:: Funny, then.. not so much ::

Earlier today, we got an e-mail into our newsroom that an elderly woman had gone missing from a seniors home. As such, we thought it best to post the bulletin on our website. Before that decision was made, however, the person tasked with writing it called into our boss's office, where I was at the time, and asked "What do you want me to do with the missing woman?"

Without hesitation, both myself and my boss blurted out the same thing: "Find her!" Then we laughed heartily because we were both so funny, and also because we'd said the same clever thing at the same time. Juvenile humour, yes, but it was still an amusing moment.

A moment, however, that I quickly ruined.

"Maybe somebody should go check the golf course," I suggested.

Earlier in the week, we'd written a story a missing eight-month-old puppy – who had run away from its home through a door that was inadvertently left open. Yesterday, the body of that poor, cute pup was found at a local golf course, having had a run in with a coyote or some other animal.

This time nobody laughed.

:: Status updates ::

"Nicole's only boyfriend was deaf. That was the only way he could put up with her." - Kristyl, talking about an acquaintance's love life.

"Matt would give you the shirt of his back. The only problem is that the shirt would be pink and nobody would want it." - Ian's neighbour, Ryan, ragging on Ian's future brother-in-law, who earlier that day arrived home from teaching golf wearing white pants and a light pink shirt.

"It's my Cola Wars slurpee." - Christene, filling up her 7-Eleven collectible Terminator cup (Yes, she really bought one) with both Pepsi and Coke.

After buying a new power drill to fix his backyard gate...

Ian: I wish I had something else to drill.

Me: You could make a birdhouse.

Ian: If I was going to make a birdhouse, I'd just go to Home Depot and buy one of those kids birdhouse kits.... Then I'd probably just call my dad and get him to build it.

"It's like knowing you are going to get your hand chopped off. You know it's going to hurt, but there's nothing you can do about it so you might as well get it over with." - Kristyl's fine take on the actual process of giving birth, which she is getting closer and closer to.

"Why isn't Jesus good at hockey? Because people kept nailing him to the boards." - Bucholtz tells a joke.

"Affirmative action is bullshit." - Bucholtz again, this time after seeing a woman officiating a men's boxing match, and having trouble separating the angry combatants.

"If I'm driving after drinking some beers, I'm never under 0.08 anyway." - Sean, on why it doesn't matter if he gets rid of his 'N' on his driver's licence. For those who aren't aware, if you are a "new driver" you can't even blow 0.01 without losing your licence.

"It almost seems like you should have B.O. to match your mustache." - Christene, commenting on my wicked facial hair.

And on that note.....

Current Funtastic Moustache Status: Barely noticeable (It's blond for some reason)

And speaking of Funtastic, and therefore of the Cannons, we have bounced out of our losing streak by winning our last two games. On Sunday, we beat a crappy team by three runs, and followed that by beating an even crappier team Monday night by a single run. It's still embarrassing, but embarrassing wins are better than embarrassing losses.

:: Bad mistakes, we've made a few ::

Right now, the illustrious Cannons - reigning champions of Langley Mixed Slo-Pitch's division E1 - are in the midst of a bit of a slide. Losers of three straight. Losers of four of the last five or so. And, in Jeremy's case two games back, losers of our cool, too. (editor's note: Jeremy recently became the second Cannon to be kicked out of a game. Kudos, good sir. You are in good company.)

However, recent mistakes aside, this current misstep is far from our worst. As such, I present to you, in no particular order, the Worst Mistakes in Cannons History:

1. "Hey Nick, welcome back. You're playing third."
The inaugural Cannons season began in early April five years ago. The team won its first two games, and was something like 3-1 after the first few weeks. Then I, our standout third-baseman-turned-first baseman-turned-outfielder-because-there's-no-other-spot-to-hide-him returned from a nine-month sabbatical in Peace River, Alberta. We lost in my debut game, then 17 more in a row, and finished the season at 3-19. I like to think I helped.

2. Bucholtz plays drunk.
Friday night game. Buch's parents - even his lovely grandma - come to watch him play. Bucholtz, who has been at the peelers with his crew from work ever since mid-afternoon, arrives drunk and beligerent. For some reason, we let him play. He strikes out looking in the first inning, questions the umpire loudly and emphatically, then is benched, and sits on the bench the rest of the game. Diana is not proud.

3. Funtastic 2007. Um, I'm sure we all remember this...




For those you don't recall. This was taken after a drunken, very-public streaking of the Canada Day fireworks in Enderby. The all-male streakathon culminated in a group slip-and-side effort into dish soap, which stung eyes and nearly blinded everyone involved. Upon photograpic review, Bucholtz came perilously close to sliding right into both Sean and Groz's naked groinal areas.

4. Dana holds at third
It was the semifinals of the playoffs, and the Cannons have made a miraculous run from the last-place seed into the Final Four. We are down by a run in the final inning, and Dana - who has wheels - is at second base. The ball is smacked into the outfield, and it looks like we're about to tie the ol' score. Except whoever is coaching third - can't remember if it was Jeremy or Bucholtz or Ian - inexplicably holds Dana at three. Oh, there were two outs, by the way.


And sure, Katie came into the game and saved the day with a swinging bunt that scored Dana which is, to this day, is among the greatest plays in team history. And sure, we won the game easily in the extra inning, but still, that was not wise coaching. I would've sent her home - but unfortunately I'd already been kicked out of the game. Also, I was banned by my own team from coaching third base. But that's not the point here.


and finally, the last great mistake (Which ironically was actually the first)....


5. "Hey Mike, want to play on the softball team we're starting?"

:: Random Text Message ::

Me: Hey, I just saw your exact double at Safeway. I had to look twice, but then I saw that he had a kid and was, you know, a responsible adult. That's how I knew it wasn't you.
Sean: Haha. He was my un-evil twin then.

Also, a new feature debuts tonight, and will appear periodically on this slice of the Interweb until late June:

Current Funtastic Moustache Status: Embarrassing.

:: How not to stay on my good side ::

This conversation – via BlackBerry Messenger – woke me up at 11:23 last night.

Friend: Hey

Friend: Hey... you there?

Friend: You got a couple minutes?

Friend: PING!!!

Me: Jesus Christ, WHAT!??

Friend: Sorry man, didn't mean to make you mad.

Me: What do you want?

Friend: What're you doing?

Me: Are you serious? It's 11:30 on Sunday night, what do you think I'm doing? I'm trying to fucking sleep. What do you want?

Friend: Oh, sorry man, I'll talk to you about it tomorrow.

Me: You already woke me up, so you might as well talk. What do you want?

Friend: Don't worry about it, it's alright. I'll talk to you about it tomorrow.

I really need to start turning my phone off before I go to bed.

:: Christene becomes a hockey fan* ::

Midway through Canucks/Blackhawks Game 3, after three months of being forced to watch games with me but not really ever caring about the outcome, this happened....

"Where's the effing defence? Get Vigneault out there - he'll take care of business!" - Christene, who by the way, likes head coach Alain Vigneault and his snappy suits better than any one player.

And just because I'm here, I might as well liquidate some old quotes from the system, too.

"Wine is not for guzzling!" - Vanessa, after doing just that, with not-so-good results, during a Canucks watching/house-warming party at Amanda and Kyle (and Maverick's) new condo.

"Dan's rad. I hope when I'm 45 I'm as awesome as him." - Bucholtz with the backhanded compliment.

"I'm gonna open a store that only sells things that I like. That way, all the other totally rad people will know where to shop." - Christene, after an unsuccessful experience at the Target in Burlington, Wash.

"I'm not drunk. But I'm... pretty drunk." - Bucholtz again.

"I want to get there and see him before he has a heart attack and dies." - Christene, talking about Big Elvis, who performs on the Vegas strip at Bill's Gambling Hall.

"I love cows - they're so cute. Too bad they're so tasty." - Christene, on Catch-22s.

After Rach got her ear pierced at the tattoo show...
Rach: I had to pay an extra $15 for the second hole.
Me: Oh, that's not too bad - I've done that plenty of times.
Rach: Uh, I was talking about the piercing.


*C'mon, it was inevitable - only a matter of time.

:: Embarassing ::

The fact that this made headlines today is Exhibit 1A of why I'm often ashamed to work in the media business.

Suddenly the president is Un-American because of his fucking mustard? We're in a recession here boss, how dare you show off your "fancy" condiments.

I also love how this has sent bloggers "out in full force." Ever wonder how the cliche about bloggers being losers who live in their parents basement came about? Because of shit like this.

You're the leader of the Free World, sir - eat whatever the crap you'd like.

Fucking America.

:: Two very different methods* (with footnotes!) ::

I got a Nintendo Wii for Christmas, along with a couple games and two controllers. Now, due to my busy, busy schedule, which is full of charity events, bottle drives for the blind, and volunteering at soup kitchens**, I have not played it as much as I would have liked.

Therefore, considering Christmas was only four months ago and also considering the system and its parts have not been overused, one would expect all parts to continue to operate in an acceptable working manner. However, as Christene and I discovered last week when trying to play Price is Right***, this is not the case with one of my controllers, which is apparently broken. We tried swapping out the batteries, re-synching it, but nothing worked.

I happened to mention this a few days later while talking with my mom, who said that she probably had the reciept still, from the department store she bought the Wii from. Even though I figured that, four months later, there would be no exchange or refund, I told my mom that some day soon I'd swing by and grab the reciept and see if I could get it exchanged for a new one.

But my mom knows me too well, and quickly ki-boshed my idea.

"Why don't I just come get the controller one day, and then the next day I'm at the mall, I'll take it and try and exchange it?" she suggested.

Never before have I been one to pass up an opportunity in which somebody will do something so that I don't have to, I agreed to this new plan.

Other than the fact that my mom is just a nice person, the following hypothetical**** example is the reason why she suggested her plan as an alternative to mine:

What would happen if I took the controller back...
Me: Hi, this controller is broken, so I'd like to exchange it. Here is the receipt.
Employee: Sure, how long ago did you purchase it?
Me: Just before Christmas.
Employee: Oh, I'm sorry, our return police is only 15 days.
Me: 15 days? That's it?! You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That's fucking pathetic.
Employee: Sir, I don't appreciate your tone. Would you like to speak to the manager?
Me: Tell your fucking manager he can eat my ass, douchebag! And fuck you and your god damn store.
Employee: I'm going to have to ask you to leave.
Then I'd probably knock over an entire display of glassware or perfume on the way out the door.

Conversely, this is how my mom handled the situation...
Mom: This controller is broken, so I'd like to exchange it. Here is the reciept.
Employee: Sure, how long ago did you purchase it?
Mom: In December.
Employee: Oh, I'm sorry, our return police is only 15 days.
Mom: Only 15 days? That's terrible. Can I please talk to the manager?
Employee: Sure, no problem.
Manager: I'm sorry, our return policy is only 15 days.
Mom: So you're telling me that if I came into your store and spent $500 on something, and then 16 days later it broke, you wouldn't replace it? That's not right - you should stand behind the products you sell. I'd like a new controller, please.
Manager: OK, you're right. I'll get you a new one. Sorry for the problem.
Manager (after a few minutes): I'm sorry, but it turns out we don't actually have any individual controllers left in stock. We only have ones that come with Wii Play.
Mom: Okay....
Manager: Here, you can just take this one. Enjoy the game.

Then, 10 minutes later, my mom calls me and tells me the story. She ends with this, before saying goodbye...

"That's why it pays to be nice, Nick, instead of being a jerk to people."

Point taken.


*one of which is successful; the other, definitely not.
**schedule actually filled with Internet porn, watching King of Queens reruns and eating nachos.
***Awesome.
****hypothetical but pretty fucking accurate.

:: Early morning revelation ::

"I'm bored. The day is actually quite long when you actually get up a decent hour and don't have anything to do." - Chris, who faced his day off bright and early, at 8:45 a.m.

:: Proud Moment ::

Me: Kristyl's having a rough morning. In the last few minutes, (somebody) tried to joke with her, and she blurted out, "Today is not the day!" and then after that, she said, pretty loudly, "Why do I even work here?!"

Christene: So, she's basically turned into you.

Me: Yeah, I guess she has. It's a proud day for me.

:: Hi, I'm Troy McClure... ::

... you may remember me from "Almost a Month Ago" and "That time that Nick had a frequently updated website."

So, I'm finally back and able to write. However, it's been three weeks since we went to Arizona and Las Vegas (even if it doesn't seem that long ago), so here's why it's taken me so long to post anything: I almost died.

It hit me on our second-to-last-night in Vegas. We'd spent the entire damn day walking about. It was about 10:30 at night when we got back to our hotel, and my legs were extremely sore. I decided to take a short breather, and head up to my room to change and relax for a couple minutes. So up the elevator I went, and almost as soon as I got to my room, I suddenly got the shakes. I'm not unfamiliar with this condition - for me, it's a sign that I'm getting sick; I used to get them when I was overtired, overstressed and overworked at the end of every semester of university.

But I did not want to get them in Vegas. Regardless, it basically ended my night at 11:30 - I made a brief attempt to pull myself together and go back to the casino floor, but I couldn't handle it. The second night was slightly better - especially considering I won a couple hundred bucks - but I still knew something bad was going to happen.

It did, when I got home. The first night, I got home from the airport at midnight, and slept fine, but after that, whatever was wrong with me - flu, plus dehydration - killed me, and I did not sleep for five straight nights. Then, I had a couple decent days, and then the second wave hit me: throat infection, ear infection, and tonsilitis.

I've been on so much medication lately that it's actually making my stomach hurt. It's the sickest I've ever been in my life, and it's just today, three weeks later, that I'm finally beginning to feel human again. Not the way I wanted to spend my birthday weekend, I'll tell you that much. I also had to take two sick days - the first sick days I've taken in nearly five years - and I don't know if that really sat well with people, but there was nothing I could do. Besides, it was two days in five years, I don't think it was too much to ask.

Regardless, I'm on the mend - sort of. Somewhere in all this mess, I've also bought a truck that I don't quite have yet, watched my washer and dryer crap out on me, requiring replacements (Yay, more debt!), and taken about 400 naps.

As for the Vegas/Arizona trip itself, it was awesome, minus the getting sick. (And also minus Carly brilliantly leaving her wallet in an A&W bathroom in Sun City, Arizona, full of all her ID, credit cards and $600). Somebody at the restaurant found her wallet - still with everything in it - and she got it FedEx'd to our hotel in Vegas, so it worked out fine in the end, but wow, was that a tense rest stop at the Wikieup Trading Post in middle-of-fucking-nowhere Wikieup, Ariz.

Phoenix was rad - we saw two Mariners games, Chris almost got sucked into a Hawaiian time share just because he wanted to enter a contest where you guessed how many baseballs were in the case ("Listen lady, I really just wanted to guess the baseballs. I'm not interested in any of this.")

We also went rattlesnake hunting (didnt find any), ate a giant freaking cheeseburger at an unlikely spot, and drank a lot of beer while playing Trivial Pursuit outside in the backyard.

Vegas was, well, Vegas. Pretty awesome - especially because of the five of us, I was the only one who had been there. And it's always cool to see people's reaction when they first hit the Strip. (Chris: "This place is surreal. Everything is fucking massive, and people are just walking around with booze!)

In the end, nobody lost too much money - I basically broke even gambling thanks to my two slot-machine wins on the last night. Most of my money was spent on beer, food, tipping, and stuff like the car rental, parking at the airport, etc... Jenna also had some good slot machine luck - she won $92 bucks on the first machine she played all week, and won about the same on the very last machine she played before we left for the airport.

Also, we saw a douchebag get kicked out of our hotel casino because he insisted he bet on red playing video roulette, but obviously is an idiot and did no such thing. So he caused a scene. It was the highlight of the day - just awesome.

And now, for some old and new quotes:

On awesome weddings...
Jenna: I'm very bitter about Welcome to the Jungle.
Me: Why?
Chris: Because I said one day when I get married I want that song playing when the wedding party walks into the reception.
Me: That's rad!
Chris: I know. It'll play right after Jeremy throws out the first pitch.

"If this was 200 years ago, all those kids would be dead by now." - Scotty, after Katie told him she wasn't allowed to fail students or dock them marks for handing in work late. (editor's note: Scott's right. This system is a joke. Fucking coddled kids get nowhere. Toughen up you pussies)

"She had purple hair. Not bad purple hair, but.... bad purple hair." - Chris, talking about this chick Shannon whom he used to know many moons ago.

"TO is like a kid in a... candy store." - Me, watching TO go nuts at the M&M Store in Vegas.

Chris, acting as Captain Science during our road trip through the Arizona desert....
Chris: See the lines between those rock layers over there? Those are called striations.
TO: Oh yeah? Well do you know what the rings on trees are called?
Chris: No, what?
TO: Birthdays!

"I've never seen so many stupid people in one place." - Chris, after watching the Canucks/Coyotes game from the upper deck with the Coyotes' educated fans. (example: "What's that plastic all around the ice? Does it ever fall down?"

"Jenna, what do your boobs look like when they're just out there? They aren't like a sock with a bunch of rocks in it, are they?" - TO, classy as ever.

"I once dated a girl who lived way out here. She was really nice, but I had to break up with her because she was geographically undesirable. I mean, 50 miles each way!" - TO's Uncle Brad, who picked us up from the airport, which was not in any way close to North Phoenix. Apparently that city is really spread out.

"Hey look - liquor and wine! That's what I do to Carly!" - TO.

Me: If I get a dog, I'm gonna name it Chaser too. That's a rad name.
Chris: Really? He doesn't even bring the stick back.
Me: His name is Chaser. Not Bring-it-back-er.

And then one more story from Brad, who works as a game-day medic for the Coyotes. One day he was at the rink, and he was showing the training staff this new blood glucose tester that he had. It was the kind where you get a pin prick in the finger and it automatically reads your blood glucose level. According to Brad, any reading between 80-120 is good. As he was showing the trainer, Wayne Gretzky walked past.

"Hey, why don't you try that out on me?" the Wayner offered.

So Brad turned it on, and tested Wayne's blood glucose level on the spot. The reading on the little digital screen?

99.

Of course it was. It's in his blood.

:: Delay ::

I know you're all waiting for stories from our trip to Arizona and Las Vegas, and I also know you're anxiously waiting for hundreds of pictures to appear on Facebook, too. And they will. But not yet.

Ever since last Tuesday - our second night in Vegas - I have been getting sick. It's a combination of the flu and some severe dehydration. As a result, I'm constantly either feverishly hot, or cold and clammy - sometimes both within minutes of each other. Also, I can't sleep, and have not slept for the last four nights. Maybe an hour, tops, but thats it.

It's terrible and I hate it. So you'll just have to wait.

"It'd be rad if I was black." - Christene

"In (high school gym class) square dancing, you basically got an A if you smiled and looked like you were having a good time. I was always good at it, because back then I was a naturally sunny person. That was back before life handed me some shitty cards." - Christene again.

:: Random Childhood Memory #58: Vacation Edition ::

Growing up, we used to go on one "family vacation" per summer. Once in awhile we'd mix it up – a big camping adventure or Puerta Vallarta (we went when I was 13) – but for the most part, we rotated between three main spots - Edmonton, to visit my uncle and go to West Edmonton Mall; Southern California, to go to Disneyland; or Northern California via the Oregon Coast, to see the sights and visit family near San Francisco.

While each vacation had its charms, as kids, we obviously like Disneyland the best (I think we went two or three times), because, well, because it's fucking Disneyland, and it's basically part of a kids' DNA to like Mickey, Space Mountain and those giant pickles they used to sell for three dollars. Any person under the age of 13 who doesn't like The Happiest Place on Earth is basically a Nazi. But I digress...

Though Disneyland was the most anticipated trip, my most memorable was a journey we took to San Francisco when I was 9 or 10. Though today I'd kill to spend some time in NorCal, back then I'm not sure my brother and I fully appreciated it. The year before we'd been to Disneyland for the first time, and it was very tough for our tiny little elementary school brains to understand why we'd come alllll the way to California again without going to see the Big Mouse and his friends. Sure, the distance between San Fran and Anaheim is 601 km (I checked) but still – WE'RE ALREADY HERE! C'MON LET'S GO!!!!

As we did in those days, we hopped in the Volkswagen camper van that we had purchased from my grandparents earlier in the year, and set out on our two-week trek. Being that I was 10 and Chris was 7, we were not the most easy-going travellers – especially when those travel days are 8-9 hours long. We would have been completely unbearable if my mom had not planned ahead for this situation.

At the time, both my brother and I collected baseball player stickers. They were great – essentially they were baseball cards that you would peel the back off and stick on the designated team page/rectangle.

Before the trip, my mom purchased an entire box of these Topps Baseball stickers, and every hour or two, when we were getting restless, she would reach into the box and toss a pack or two of these stickers at each of us. We would then be kept occupied for the next five to 10 minutes, as we found places in the book for our new Mark Langston or Hubie Brooks sticker.

It was also during the early parts of this trip that we became acquainted with the rock 'n roll stylings of Steve Miller, the Beach Boys and Bobby McFerrin (my dad purchased a Road Trip Tunes mixtape).

But things went bad around Sacramento.

The temperature was about 40 degrees celsius out (or something close) and the old VW van started to fizzle out. Eventually, it just died by the side of the road. While my dad tried to flag down some help and call a tow truck, the rest of us sat in a nearby air-conditioned McDonald's for hours, drinking orange pop and eating fries. Though the ensuing details have been glossed over by time, the end result was this: Eventually we moved out of our new home at McDonald's and into a local hotel, and the van got a new engine put into it for the low, low cost of $3,000 (USD).

Once that was finished, we carried on with our trip, visited our family and the wonderful city of San Francisco, and also ate an Earthquake Sundae at Ghirardelli Square, much to the disgust of the other diners (They were just jealous).

It was, without question, the most expensive family vacation we ever had. But they say you can't put a price on a memory, and if that is indeed the case, then it was money well spent, because to this day, every time anyone in my family (including extended family) sees a Volkswagen camper van driving down the highway, they say the same thing:

"Uh oh, they're in trouble."

I felt compelled to write this long-winded, mildly amusing (at best) story because less than 48 hours from now, I will embark on another holiday. And although it won't be a family vacation in the sense that my parents aren't coming, I will be going with my brother.

We realized today that we've never been on a vacation together since the old family vacation days. He went with Jenna to Disneyland a couple years back. I went to Cancun a couple Octobers ago, but he did not. Then Jenna and him went to the Mayan Riviera for a wedding that I did not attend, and my previous two trips to Vegas were with mom and/or dad.

So Thursday morning when we embark for our trip to Phoenix (and later, Vegas!) for some Mariners spring training baseball, it was be a first. We're gonna drink some beers in the outfield bleachers, hob-nob with minor-league players destined to spend another year with the mighty Everett Aqua Sox, and heckle opposing teams' outfielders from our seat on the stadium's grass.

And I'm gonna check if they sell baseball stickers, too.

(Hey, it's a five-hour drive from Phoenix to Las Vegas.... gotta stay entertained).

:: 411 ::

There is a gentleman I work with in my office who is, to put it lightly, old-fashioned. He's 50 years old, and very classy. Always wears a suit to work - usually a vintage suit from the '40s. Hell, I've run into him in the mall on a weekend and he's wearing a suit, decked out to the 9s. He also used to drive a big old Mercedes until it broke down last year.

So yeah, he's an old fashioned chap. Nothing wrong with that - it just makes him quirky. However, it has its drawbacks. For starters, he is utterly clueless and lost when it comes to computer technology - which is trouble considering that's a signficant part of our job. But somehow, he manages to get by.

But on Friday, he did something I could not understand. He needed to find a phone number of a local restaurant. For starters, I'm sure this number was in the phone book. However, if it wasn't, the most logical next option is to look it up online, especially considering that he's sitting there with a computer in front of him.

But no, instead he decided to pick up the phone and dial 411 for directory assistance. I didn't even know this service still existed - or that anybody used it, but knowing this guy as I do, I have to believe that using the Internet never even occurred to him.

I clued into what he was doing when I overheard him talking to the automated system.

"Business."

"White Rock."

"West Beach Bar and Grill."

"No, West Beach..."

He had to repeat himself a couple times, but eventually I heard him get through, and he got the information he was seeking. As soon as I realized what was happening - about midway through his 411 call - I thought I'd find the info for myself.

First I went to Google. Then I typed in the restaurant. Then the website came up. The phone number was listed on the main page (As was a full listing of the weekend entertainment, which is what he was calling for the in the first place).

The whole thing took, oh, maybe 11 seconds.

His phone call took five minutes. And cost 75 cents.

It was also during this debacle that I e-mailed Kristyl, whose desk is right next to our old-fashioned co-worker:

"Wait...is he actually dialing 411? What is this, 1998? Some people are just so technologically stunted it's baffling.

"To quote Garth Algar, "Live in the now, man."

:: Random Childhood Memory #42 ::

When he was a teenager, about 15 years old if I recall correctly, Ian left Walnut Grove and spent most of the summer with his cousins in St. Catherines, Ont. Why he voluntarily chose to stay for an extended period of time in Ontario I'll never know, but that's what he did.

He finally returned later in the summer - thus bringing an end to the saddest, most boring summer of Chris's life – and he brought with him a fairly expensive skateboard that he had purchased back east. I guess his cousin had got him into it or something, I don't know.

We all laughed at him because, let's face it, Ian with a skateboard is akin to me with gang tattoos. What a waste of money, we said. But Ian – who always boasts that he never gives in to peer pressure – was adamant that he was going to use his new board, "like, all the time."

For a couple weeks he'd bring it over to our house, and try channelling his inner Tony Hawk by doing ollies and kickflips at the end of the driveway.

Then the summer ended, school began, and we never saw the skateboard again.

:: The desert calls ::

I worked a 14-hour day today, in three different cities. It started at 8 a.m. at my office, doing my usual job. Now, this wasn't too bad to begin with - minus the fact that we had to skip our usual walk to get coffee because it was too fucking cold out - but it got worse.

I won't bore you with the details, but just say this: budget cuts have made a certain part of my job a living hell. I spent three-quarters of my day today talking to colleagues on the phone about said problem, trying to find a solution, dealing with complainers, then complaining myself when no solution could be found. Good times.

In between these phone calls, I did a minimal amount of real work, and also traded phone calls back-and-forth with my bank, as I am in the process of trying to secure a car loan. This was the worst part of my day, but again I won't bore you with details. I'll just break it down quick:

- I own my own place. It is assessed at $244,000. I could sell it for 260.

- My credit is perfect. So perfect, in fact, that last Saturday a car dealership approved me for financing - for an amount far greater than I needed, as a matter of fact - in less than fifteen minutes.

- I make a good annual salary, and have a second job which in theory would cover the entire cost of a monthly car payment, were I to get one.

- I have no other real debts, except for my mortgage (which many people driving nice new cars despite modest salaries have and can easily afford) and a few hundred bucks on one credit card.

- I asked for $32,000 (Whether I need this much or not is debatable, but considering all the above points, I thought it was more than a reasonable request).

- The bank said I could only have $25,000.

- Then the following things happened: I got really mad, and yelled at the bank folks, calling their offer "insulting." Then said I was taking all my money out and going to a different bank. Then I hung up. Then they called me back four times, all of which I sent straight to voicemail. In the messages they left, they said they'd "try to work something out." Their second "offer" was pretty much the exact same thing. I called back and yelled some more.

- I still have no new truck.

I don't know what else to say about this really, except that it really, really pisses me off. When I was 20-years-old and jobless, I got a $21,000 loan from the same bank with no questions asked. Why they've now decided that a stable person with a good job and a house is not to be trusted with anything more than a $400/month loan is beyond me. But whatever.

Sorry, I know I said I wasn't going to bore you with details and then went ahead and did exactly that, but I do that sometimes... stories just get away from me.

So where was I? Oh right, my stupid long day. After bitching at the bank for another little while, eventually I had to drive downtown to cover a basketball game, which just happened to overlap with two other things I normally would have covered. I watched the game, took pictures - even got hit in the side of the face by a ball on its way out of bounds. I was sitting courtside on the floor, camera to my eye.

With four minutes left in the game, I had to race back to Langley, grab some dinner en route, and then watch the Canucks game, so I could write about it and file a story by 10:15 p.m. In between stoppages in play, and in the intermission, I worked on my basketball story, and did interviews over the phone from the dining room.

Then the game went into overtime, which meant I had even less time to file a story. I made it on time though, like I always manage to do, and now I'm sitting here, way past when I should've gone to sleep, especially because I have two more nights like this between now and Saturday.

The only thing currently bringing a smile to my face is the Bud Light Lime that is sitting in front of me, ice cold and half-full. It is the last of the Lime beers I brought back from Vegas when I was there in the fall. Somehow I made 24 of them last five months.

This particular beer is making me happy because it reminds me of sitting at the Stratosphere Las Vegas, playing Super Jackpot Party for about three hours straight, getting fucking bombed off this particular beer. Then, at about 3 a.m., I stopped by the hotel gift shop/store and bought three more for the elevator ride to my room.

I woke up hungover with one unopened beer in my bed next to me, and an empty bottle still in my hand.

And in a little over a week, I'll get the chance to do that very same thing again, only this time with the addition of four days watching spring training baseball in Arizona.

Can't come quick enough.

:: I have a nautical-themed Pashmina afghan ::

For the first time Monday night, Chris viewed the SNL/The Lonely Island I'm on a Boat video. He's a little behind the times, but we'll give him a break just this once because his response to it was so awesome:

"Oh, so that's why everybody's Facebook statuses lately have said they were on a boat! I just kept thinking, 'Why the hell are so many people going on cruises?'"

"It did not get cool until I got here."

I woke up this morning to this text message from Fort McMurray:

"You posted quotes yesterday and not a word about my birthday... gone r the days of birthdays shout-outs, apparently.... Hurtful."

Jesus Christ. A person gets all this shit for her birthday - and 24th birthday, for that matter (not exactly a milestone to begin with) - and she's still fucking complaining about the lack of a mention on a crappy, 25-readers-a-day blog.

Some people are just so ungrateful.

But as I've often said - it pays to complain, so in honour of Kelsey Lundquist's 24th birthday, I will repost what is probably my favourite Kelsey quote of all-time:

"If I fold down the seats in the Cougar I could have sex with like four people at once!"

So there's your damn shout-out. Happy Birthday - you asked for it.

Just a couple quotes for ya...

"I look like Lindsay Lohan's mugshot." - Christene, the morning after a night of drinking.

"I'm trying to make it so I don't get drunk all the time." - Christene again, after the aforementioned night o' drinking.

"You know, if we hadn't broken up, we'd still be together." - this guy Joel, logical as ever.

"We should start our own gang that eats nachos and goes to the Walnut Grove Pub." - Kristyl's answer to the increasing gang presence in the Lower Mainland.

:: How to know when it's time to take a vacation ::

I just got back from a four-hour, double-overtime playoff hockey game. I am exhausted, but somehow still quite energetic and cheerful.

I don't know if it's because I just saw a very entertaining hockey game (which the good guys won, too) on an otherwise drab Monday, or if it's because I have a fantastic lede already written in my head for when I sit down at my desk early tomorrow morning and pound out the story on deadline.

I'm not exactly sure, but I think it's the second one.

That frightens me.