Prince George vs. Florida (or Bear Wrestling in PG is Totally Normal)

This sign is down the street from my parents house:

Just in case you can't read the sign I've written out the most important part for you:

"BEARS! OH MY GOD... RUN! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIIIIIIIIE!!!"

My folks live in Prince George, BC (here is a map, and yes, people DO live that far north). When I was a kid there were about the same number of bears around, but apparently no one felt the need to put up a sign. So, right after walking to school up hill both ways IN THE SNOW we wrestled bears to the ground with our BARE HANDS. When we were 6 years old. And now you know why chicks from Prince George are so tough.

I'm glad I grew up here. Behind my parents house are trees. Lots of them. They are everywhere, it's as if they've multiplied or something. AND they weren't transported here by landscapers or city planners they just GREW ON THEIR OWN NATURALLY. Who knew?

Another cool thing about Prince George: I went for a walk and a bunch of strangers said "hi" to me. I had absolutely no idea who they were. In New York or Toronto or a million other places, if someone says "hi" you check for your purse to make sure it's still there. And if they smile they are probably a pervert. Or on drugs. Or a drugged out pervert plotting to STEAL YOUR PURSE.

Don't get me wrong, there are all kinds of lame things about Prince George:

• there are pulp mills in the area so quite often it smells like flatulence (I had "fart" in there but my mom made me change it to "flatulence." Whatever.)


• there isn't a Gap. Shock. Horror.


• there is more plaid flannel roaming around than any one population can be expected to sustainably support
  

I just read an article about 3 friends from Florida who drove all the way across THE ENTIRE COUNTRY to live here in Prince George. They had never been here before. THAT IS INSANE! They used to live RIGHT BY DISNEYLAND... who in their right mind would give up Mickey Mouse for Mr. PG? (you don't think there is really a Mr. PG, do you? Oh yes there is. Here is a picture).

Moral of this post. Prince George is cool, but so is Space Mountain. If you come here you will be expected to wrestle a bear to prove you are worthy. Consider yourself warned.

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Ugly As Sin

Last night my parents and I had a gourmet meal of hotdogs and chips around the fire pit. Yes, I know that hotdogs are ridiculously bad for you.


True story: When John and I first started seeing each other John asked me what my favourite food was. When I said "hotdogs" John says he fell in love with me right then and there. Awwww.

I borrowed my mom's bright blue, fake crocs for the occasion. Look at them. If you're a croc fan you may want to avert your eyes for this next line:

Ugly. As. Sin.

Horrid, awful, strange, UGLY things.

Yes they are.

John still loves me even if I wear crocs though. AWWWWWW.

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Stuff My Dogs Have Wrecked: Cushion II

I was going through the photos on my camera and came across a whole shwack of pics (that's right, "schwack"). I've been away from the dogs now for a few days and I THOUGHT for a minute that I missed them a bit.

And then I came across this:

Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?!!!!!!

A few other reminders that my dogs are a total pain in the butt:

• Stuff My Dogs Have Wrecked: Cushion I
• Stuff My Dogs Have Wrecked: Shoes

Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... to add insult to injury Kayloo looks positively gleeful... breathe out...

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Apples & Earrings

I am up in Northern-ish British Columbia right now, visiting my folks.

Just for the record, we are NOT buried in snow. My parents do not live in an igloo, yes WE DO have electricity, and no I DON'T KNOW YOUR DAD'S FRIEND BOB.

No I don't.

That may sound like an old joke, but you would be surprised at how often I get asked some version of that question. I don't mind being asked that question, but let me assure you: I DON'T KNOW BOB (unless you mean THAT Bob. Everyone knows THAT Bob).

I took this photo last night in the front yard just as the sun was starting to set:

Look at that! PROOF that we are not buried in snow and PROOF that it rocks up here.

And here is some more proof that it rocks up here:

I got these earrings ON SALE for $5! 5 BUCKS! Just TRY to contain your excitement guys!

So, what we have here are free apples and $5 earrings, which is basically a hallmark day in my world.

See what I mean? Visiting the folks rocks.

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White in New York

This is my favourite belt:

I am conflicted. This is an Ed Hardy belt. I bought it exactly 1 year and 6 months ago in New York when I had NO IDEA who/what Ed Hardy was. I learned on the blog Stuff White People Like that I should not like Ed Hardy stuff because "white people hate these clothes unilaterally." As you can see, I AM WHITE.

YOU CAN SEE MY CONUNDRUM.

I'm not sure how much I should freak out about this.

Am I'm ok as long as I don't wear the hightops, truckers cap, t-shirt AND belt at the same time? Can I keep it if I stop making "East side, West side" signs to unsuspecting passerby? It'll be hard to quit my gang of Freaky Chicks Who Wear Too Much Ed Hardy and Snap Their Gum, but I'll do it if it means I can KEEP MY WICKED BELT.

Have MERCY on a white chick who found a cool belt on sale, people.

Who knew this would be such a minefield.

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Scary Stuff

Here are my turkeys waiting for dinner. As you can see, Kayloo is very close to perishing. Try as she might, she has not yet mastered making food magically appear (you can see her try here).

From this photo you might actually think my dogs are good. DON'T BE FOOLED! I have ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL, appetites are destroyed ALL THE TIME and there are NO REGULAR BEDTIMES IN THIS HOUSEHOLD. Ever. I've even been known to rot my mind with television. And Cosmopolitan magazines. And YouTube.

Hello, my name is Shauna. I may have been given an extra dose of crazy somewhere along the line.

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Photo Booth

If Kayloo and I were teenage girls (yes, I realize that I am not in my teens. Thanks. Fer that) and we were in a mall, and Kayloo was allowed in malls, and we went to one of those photo booth things, this is what we would look like:




Except I wouldn't be the only one making stupid faces. And we'd actually be in a photo booth.

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