Vancouver 2010 Posted by Happy Blogger , 1.3.10 at Monday, March 01, 2010, in

This year I was fortunate enough to be invited to attend the Olympics with some family. I knew it was the Olympics, and I knew it would be exciting, but I could never imagine anything going any better then it did.


I was down in the heart of Vancouver for 10 days, and had the most incredible time! It was an amazing experience, and I would like to share a journal of every day that I was in Vancouver.


So, I'm going to start a series of blogs sharing every little detail (that I can remember) and try to capture every moment of my time there. Whether it was trying new foods, watching my first hockey game, or freezing up on Cypress.


Let the blogs BEGIN!


-Happy Blogger

Tickle Me Purple Posted by Happy Blogger , 15.2.10 at Monday, February 15, 2010, in

It all started when I was five. I remember my cousin telling me her favorite colour was green. If her favorite colour is green, my favorite colour should be green too! Then she told me her favorite colour was purple. If her favorite colour is purple, my favorite colour should be purple too! Then she told me her favorite colour was blue. If her favorite colour is blue, I guess I should stick with purple. And to this date my favorite colour has been purple, and hers is still blue. I guess some things never change.

Funny enough, all my solo dresses for competitions have composed of 'green and/or purple'. My very first one was a tiny little green velvet thing, lined with gold, followed by a green velvet dress lined with silver, followed by a purple sparkly dress, followed by a green sparkly dress, followed by a green velvet lined with purple. Get the picture?

I remember watching a video of all the family's on my Dad's side of the family filming a thing for my Grandma's 70th. We all did 'spoof's' or reenactment of parts of my Grandma's life. One of the families filmed my Grandma and her obsession with the colour purple. It's one of those things, 'you know your a Kehler when you love Purple'.

Once in Gr. 9, I was wearing a purple shirt, and I had a random girl come up to me and tell me that I was 'meant for purple'. She went on some rant about how purple compliments my skin tone, and my green eyes, and my hair colour... blah blah blah. I guess we were meant to be.

This year when I was opening my birthday present, I screamed when I saw my very own pair of purple spandex leggings with a matching bandeau. My uncle exclaimed, "I think we just found out what makes the Happy Blogger happy".

My mom went to Australia for 3 weeks, and brought back my sisters and I some gifts. She told us to close our eyes and hold out our arm -(places objects)- open your eyes. I opened my eyes to a glorious pair of purple knitted uggs. At that moment, I could care less that my sisters got the same boots just different colours, and I screamed. My sisters thought I was obnoxious, but I was just too excited.

This weekend, I went to Cross Iron Mills for the first time. The only reason I really went there was to go to Forever 21. I was browsing in the store, when I came across a pair of purple cords. I swear to God it was love at first sight. My friend looked at me telling me I'm crazy. 'I'm not crazy, I'm in LOVE!' I believe are the words that I responded with. To top that day off, I bought two toques and a Star Wars shirt. I swear I could have possibly the happiest person alive.

I'm tickled purple!

-Happy Blogger

Sunday Mornings, Go For A Ride Posted by Happy Blogger , 24.1.10 at Sunday, January 24, 2010, in

Well, well, well.

As an update, I would like to inform you that I finished reading 'The Lovely Bones' and 'Dear John' (unfortunately I lended out my "Alice in Wonderland- a girl at dance who will be featured in her upcoming play as 'the Cheshire Cat' and was bursting to read it...)

Soon after reading 'The Lovely Bones'- I ventured out with a few friends to go see the movie. When it comes to seeing movies, I'm generally an 'emotional blob', and it was assumed that I would be a tearful wreck while watching this one. Unfortunately/fortunately- I did not cry. I did though, really enjoy watching 'Susie's in Between'. Stanley Tucci was wonderfully creepy- when I got home, I had to tell myself 'He's Julia's Child's husband in the movie--- he's a nice guy!' It was really late when we were driving home, and the roads had an eerie sense to them, and one of my friends blurted out 'Let's just hope we don't get murdered!' The rest of the car ride was tense. The moment I was alone in the car, I was checking around the car and observing any sight of movement. I blasted the radio, and continued home. As I was driving home, I could swear I saw at least 10 white rabbits. It was late at night, and I was growing tired, and I 'thanked' the rabbits. For some weird reason, they made me more aware. They were my little nudge.

As for Dear John, I only finished that books just a couple hours ago. I found myself tearing up at the end of this one. For a while, I didn't even want to finish the book- but I did, and thank God for that. . .

February 20th, I will be heading out to Vancouver for the Olympics. I'm staying with my uncle and my cousin in a condo, that I believe neighbours the hotel where the majority of the athletes will be staying. On Wednesday, I went out to see the Olympic Torch at COP. That morning, they would have a pancake breakfast, and the first 500 people would get a free cow-bell! So that morning, I went out with my Cousin and my older sister, and we got there early enough to only wait in the line for maybe 30-40 minutes- and I would consider us lucky. By the time we could eat our Pancakes, they were frozen (as you can imagine- pancake breakfasts are meant for warmer weather). When we went up to grab a cowbell, I sneakily took 2 cowbells, for I knew someone coming later would want one. I got a picture with the 88' torch, and a picture on the podium. I had to leave early, so I couldn't get a picture with the '10 torch- but I didn't mind. I'm going to the real thing- I seriously feel so lucky.

Have I bored you enough yet?

-Happy Blogger

Procrastination Posted by Sad Blogger , 16.1.10 at Saturday, January 16, 2010, in

We all do it. Don't lie. The following is a poem I wrote while I was procrastinating from doing my poetry homework. Yes, that is exactly how much I didn't want to do it.

pen marks on a page
scribbles, scratches, lines, and doodles
gray on white and black on gray
restrained madness. strange, unusual

water in a pot
bubbles, steam. surface chaotic
ferocity contained
the perfect storm. hypnotic

notes from a piano
out of order, out of key
twinkling follows pounding
bum bum bum then treedle tee

homework for tomorrow
doodles fill the open pages
cooked a meal and wrote a song
unformed thoughts in final stages

From my empty head to your,

- Sad Blogger

Melvin of the Refrigerator Posted by Sad Blogger , 4.1.10 at Monday, January 04, 2010, in

A friend of mine recently approached me, glum and dejected, requesting that I tell her something happy. And being as happiness is a gift I am more than willing to spread, I obliged her behest. The following is the yarn I managed to spin:

There's a man in my fridge named Melvin who smiles and hands me orange juice every time I open the door. He doesn't talk much but he like to wear buttons with little sayings on them and he changes his buttons every morning. Today he was wearing an "I Ringo" button and some rainbow suspenders so I can tell he's happy. Although, he speaks when he has to. Like when I try to put the peanut butter back in the fridge. He knows it doesn't belong there, you see. He'll twist his face up into a funny pout and yell that "NUTBUTTER B'LONGS IN THE CUBBERD" (He calls it nut butter. And he talks funny because he eats too many pickles).

Um. There was this one time, we made the mistake of letting him have a day off. And I say it was a mistake not cuz we want to keep him trapped in there or take pleasure in it or anything. He really likes it in there. He has fingerpaintings on the wall that he makes with ketchup and whipped cream. But he just really wasn't used to the outside world. He'd lived in fridges most of his life. He crawled in his parents' when he was seven and just liked it so much he decided to live in fridges the rest of his life. So he certainly wasn't used to the light. He's come somewhat accustomed to the fridge bulb when it comes on. But he hadn't experienced anything like the sun in a long time. So he kinda stumbled out that one day.

We'd just been on a big shopping trip and needed to sort out the fridge and he was kinda taking up space. And man did his bones CRACK. It sounded like a drum solo! All of them at once, different pitches and volumes. Crickity-crackalack-tick-cra-cra-cra-crackadacka! He looked kind of embarrassed as we stared at him. And then my mom burst out laughing and we all joined in, even Melvin. He tittered in his little scratchy cackle. He was wearing a big button that looked like a cloud in the shape of a bunny. So we asked him if he'd like to see a real cloud.He started nodding so enthusiastically. I've never seen someone look so silently excited. His whole body was practically shaking with glee as we led him towards the big glass doors to the patio. We slid the doors open and he stared at them in fascinated delight. He'd never seen a door that didn't open on hinges. And then finally, we got him to look up.

Up into the sky, the sun, the clouds. Clouds like he had never seen on that beautiful summer morning. The massive blue blanket of sky kissing the tops of the pine trees in the backyard and the anxious little puppy dog clouds playfully tumbling through space. Melvin looked like he'd danced with an angel. His mouth curled up into a ridiculous grin and his eyes bunched up with overwhelming joy. While Mom and Dad sorted out the fridge, we sat in the grass with Melvin and pointed out all the shapes the clouds made. Dragons and skipping children. Flying squirrels, cars, an old-fashioned telephone. Melvin pointed desperately at his button and shrugged. He wanted to know why there were no bunny clouds.

Just then, Mom appeared in the doorway and called that the fridge was stocked and it was time for Melvin to go back inside. A little tear rolled down his cheek as he stared at his pin and started shuffling towards the house. But then... "MELVIN!" my brother shouted. Melvin turned to us and sniffed. My brother was pointing emphatically at the sky. Melvin shrugged and we yelled in unison, "It's a bunnnnyyyyy!" And, man, you've never seen anyone run so fast. He zipped out the door and tumbled onto the lawn. And we laughed out loud as we pointed to the bunny and jumped around. Happy. Then Melvin gave us each a squeeze and we patted him on the back and he crawled back into the fridge with a husky chuckle. I reached out my hand for the orange juice, and with a wink Melvin placed it in my hand. He's a good friend.

And here's to you, friends,

- Sad Blogger

Orange-Cranberry Scones Posted by Happy Blogger , at Monday, January 04, 2010, in

Good morning folks! I have made a new discovery into the art of scones. Just kidding, but I did come across a great recipe.


The other day I was really craving some sort of food. Nothing too too sweet, so I decided to make scones. I prowled through numerous recipe websites, when I came across a rather easy plain scone recipe. I made my first batch and thought they were rather delicious, and so I decided to expand my horizon and put in additional ingrediants. I remember, a long time ago, I was over at my uncles house for breakfast. In my family, he was the scone king and was famous for his delicious scones. In the midst of making them, he accidentally poured orange juice into the batter. Not letting that stop them, he cooked them up and they were seriously the best scones I had ever eaten. So, I decided to do what my uncle did... but on purpose.


Recipe:


2 cups of flour
1/4 cup white sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 cup butter
1 cup of milk


This is the plain recipe. You mix the dry ingrediants in a bowl, then you cut in the butter, then you add and stir in the milk. It should have a thicker consistancy, and then you roll it out into 3/4 inch thick rectangle, and cut into sizable scones and bake for 12 minutes at 425'


Now, the Orange ones. I often times find that I need to double recipe because they get eaten up pretty quickly (at my house at least) and so what I did was instead of putting the whole amound of milk in, I put 3/4 milk and 1/4 orange juice (concentrated orange juice is better because it gives it a stronger flavouring without completely diluting the dough). Add as much cranberries as you want, and bake the same as the plain scones.


As a glaze, I like to mix together about 2 tsp of butter with 3 tsps of powdered sugar (make your own estimates- I do) then I add a bit of orange juice or range concentrate to make almost a thing orange icing. When the scones are ready from the oven, take them out and glaze them right away. Eat them while they are hot (well, not too hot or you might burn your tongue) and enjoy.


Bon Appetit
-Happy Blogger

Dan a phapy wen reya Posted by Happy Blogger , 3.1.10 at Sunday, January 03, 2010, in

Well, it's now 2010 and change has already started to take it's toll.


Since those good ole school day's where teachers would shove novel study after novel study down your throat, I developed a rather large hate into recreational reading. Oddly enough, I enjoyed reading about factual stuff. I'm sure I would take reading my mom's old psychology textbooks over Harry Potter any day. Though over time I grew more fond of books, I still don't read as often as I should. Over the summer, I splurged on all the old classics and yesterday took another splurge on books that I was just dying to read. Now, I can only hope that my $46.30 was worth it.


I went in to the book store looking for 'Lovely Bones', 'Dear John' and 'Alice in Wonderland', there were a few more that I would have liked to buy, but unfortunately my $50 gift certificate wouldn't pay for it. Anywho... My first challenge will be 'The Lovely Bones', no I'm not just reading it because the movie is coming out, (well, I guess just a little) but more because I've heard it is a strangely mesmerizing book. (Alright Alice Sebold, mesmerize me). Dear John is yet another Nicolas Sparks novel that is being turned into a movie. Seeing as I loved ' A Walk to Remember' and 'The Notebook' both movie and book, I desired to read and see this one. Now, Alice in Wonderland is a classic that I have wanted to read for 2 years now and just never got around to buying it, so when the chance came around, I couldn't let it slide.


I am now bound and determined.


As for recent movies I've seen?


2009 I was a virgin of 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show". After 12 o'clock, I cracked open the champagne, and enjoyed myself this amusing show. I had got it from my clever uncle with all sorts of props to go along (ie. water gun, rice, newspaper, plastic gloves...) So I tried my best to catch on with everything, and I even tried to snap my rubber gloves at the same time as Frank'n'Furter (failed miserably... all 3 times). It was nearing 2 am as the movie was finishing up when my sister pointed out that Tim Curry as a drag kind of looks like my mother (I told her the next morning, and she wasn't quite sure if she should be offended or not, but Tim Curry in drag was rather beautiful). 2010 and now I've seen it and I loved it in all it's weirdness.


I watched All About Steve and was thankful that it didn't end like I thought it was. Thank you to the writers for not giving us something predictable. Merci.


I also watched District 9. Even though I fell asleep, and couldn't appreciate the movie, I now have to rewatch it to full appreciate it.


I also also watched Inglourious Basterds. Yes, it was funny and Yes Quentin Tarrantino was amazing yet again, yet I was slightly disgusted by the scalping and the carving of the foreheads. Yum.


Julie& Julia followed, and it was weird cause while I was watching it and they were making her blog and all her entries I got weirdly excited (I'm not quite sure why). Anywho. I love Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. It was wonderful.


Now I'm off on my quest to plow through the books. After that? Make my way through the Mel Brookes collection. Thank you Blockbuster.


-Happy Blogger

Evolution Of My Basement Posted by Happy Blogger , 28.12.09 at Monday, December 28, 2009, in

As I sat there in my cold basment, knitting a tremendously long scarf and watching all the four hours of Lord of the Rings special features, I was trying to think of a blog that I should post. I thought of telling you about my Christmas, plans for the New Year, then it came upon me with the brilliant idea of writing about my basement. Where to begin?

I don't rememeber the earliest stages of my basement, seeing as I wasn't born, but I got to hear stories from my parents and my older sister. You see, my house has become a project for my parents. It's never completely finished, and there's alwaysy something to fix or refurnish or paint. They started when they moved in about 20 years ago, and we just put in new floors yesterday. Anywho.

As far as my earliest memories go, I know that the stairs leading down to my basment were actually curved to the left, but now it's changed to the normal 'straight down the stairs'. It's more convienient in a lot of ways. Now there is a lesser chance of me falling down the stairs, and when we want to throw laundry down the stairs, it can go right down into the basement instead of congesting the stairwell. As we would move down the stairs, I don't believe we had flooring. I believe we had cement. Cold, hard, grey cement. As child proof as you would imagine it would be, it was actually fun. My sister and I could rollerblade in the basement, and not have to worry about ruining flooring. Then there was the swing. Yes, we had a swing in our house. It was a yellow 'banana' swing that was placed in front of the TV so we could sit on whilst watching TV. As we began to move down the hallway, there was 'the wall'. You see, in the midst of my parents constant renovation, there wouldl be points when they would be getting ready to to take down ugly old 70's wall paper, to repaint and refresh the room. Well somewhere in the kafluffle of everything, we had this rather large wall that my sisters and I could draw on. Soon after it was covered up, and our games of 'x's and o's, hang man, drawing flowers and people and palm trees were all gone. That wall is now just a faint memory beneath a coat of beige paint. Last but not least, I rememeber my mother having this room. It was secluded from the rest of the house and it was dark and scary- 'the Sewing Room'. I don't even rememeber going in, and if I did, my memories had been painted with shade of blue and black. That was my least favorite.

A few years later, there was the reconstruction of rooms. The 'Sewing Room' was taken down and moved into a large hallway containg two rooms. In the midst of that, my father had to take down my pole. You know, the kind of pull that was in houses for structural reasons. Well, that was my first boyfriend. Yes Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm putting it out there. I was in love with a pole. (mind you I was about 4), though my age doesn't really do that little tale justice.

When I was about 9, I decided I wanted to move my bedroom downstairs. I had decided to paint my room a wonderful vibrant yellow colour, and it's theme would be '70's', and to this day, I still have the yellow walls, and the tye-dye comforter follwed by an old record playing cabinet that was painted bright blue with purple and pink and green circles. (During this time, my father took down the pole and was about to throw it away). I told him "NO!", and I made him to bury it in my walls. So in the back of one of my built in closests lies my first love.

So there I was, a 9 yearold living in a room that used to frighten me. At thet time, I was the only one in the basement, and it took me a few months to adjust to sleeping down there. The bed was perfectly comfortable and I had a rather large collection of my stuffies up on the bed with me, and yet there seemed to be a noise from a collaborative place in my house. I rememeber one night, I woke up in a fright from hearing a gurgling noise coming from outside my room followed by a spring noise. At that moment, I knew someone was on the computer, in MY BASEMENT, playing candy minigolf. I just knew I had heard those sounds before. I burst out of my room, not even bothering to look in the computer room, into my parents room. The next morning, I found out that it was actually the furnace that was mkaing the gurgling noise, and my older sister rolling over on a broken spring on her bed. For the next few years, I would hear those faint noises in the night.

I rememeber having an ugly bathroom. It was a tiny little hole in the basment that no one would ever bother going to. When I moved down there, my parents knew what to do. They would renovate. So I now still have 'a little hole in the basment' of a bathroom, but it looks nice.

My computer room was also just a hole in the basement. It had a very tiny window, and it was partly storage. It was painted an ugly green colour, but that seemed to be the least of our problems. That room was a place of refuge. If I were ever home alone with either of my sisters, that would be the place you'd find us. As we put it, the only little window would just show the feet of people arriving at our door, and so if foreign feet were to show up, we would be ready.

Now the basment has been completely rearranged. The computer room is new the sewing room. The old sewing room is now my sisters room, the main room/tv room is now defined the more 'nicer place' and a place my mom could have people over and drink wine, as we had moved our 'nicer' furniture that kind of looks like picasso's work on a couch. Even though the basement seemed about perfect, we just added recently added a new book case 'that simply just adds to the look of the room' and a new surround sound feature that really does impress my father, though not so much my mother.

Might I just add- The Lord of the Rings is brilliant on surround sound. Just saying.

Happy Blogger

The Twelve Perils of Christmas Posted by Sad Blogger , 24.12.09 at Thursday, December 24, 2009, in

Yes! It's been ages since our last post. But that's what happens when those nasty little buggers we call finals roll into town. But we are free at last, free at last! And being as it is Christmas Eve, I decided to take you on a little Christmas-themed tour of my recent thoughts.

Every Winter, sometime about mid- to late-November, the world trips over a candy cane and realizes...it's almost Christmas!!!! And so out come the trees, the garland, the fake snow, the little Santas and Nativity scenes, the red-and-green gift wrap, the mint-flavored Christmas coffee. But most of all, the holiday music. Pretty much every mapped square-foot of shopping space is haunted by echoes of "...bells! Jingle all the blaaaah..." or "...angels sing! Glory to the newborn blaaaah..." And especially everyone's absolute favorite shouted refrain of "FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!" That's the only part of the song anybody really cares about. I'd even hazard a guess that at least 50% of people that know the song don't remember the gifts following the fifth day and might not even know the proper order of the first four. And that's what I'd like to look at today, we're going to analyze The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Let's start with a partridge in a pear tree. Some of you may actually be wondering what a partridge even looks like. This is a partridge. Funny looking little thing, right? Would you seriously want a miniature wild turkey flapping around in your living room? Do you actually have room for one of these in your house? Let's quickly run down the next 3 days of gifts so we can get to the good stuff. By the end of the fourth day, we will have added two turtle doves, three French hens, and four calling birds to our collection. The carpet is probably 9 different colors of bird crap and smells like it too. There are feathers everywhere, the birds are always fighting and squawking, we may have taken to drinking by this point. But...

FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!!!! Yup, they came in the mail this morning. I pretend to myself that four of them are apologies for the past four days of crappy gifts. The fifth I cherish and immediately jam onto my finger. Because, yes, I'm just that greedy. Honestly, I've forgotten the other gifts already. I can hear the noise and I know they're birds of some kind, but I'm not sure of what sort they are or what order they came in. Nothing is more important than my FIVE GOLDEN RINGS! I can settle down and enjoy the rest of the Christmas season now.

But alas, it's the sixth day and as much as I thought the rest of December would peaceful, six geese showed up on my doorstep this morning. Each one of them laying eggs, too! Are you kidding me, lover? I have ten birds destroying my house and my sanity as it is! You send me six bigger birds, all stressed out and popping eggs all over the place. The other birds are scaring them and you can hardly see through the fog of feathers sifting through every room. And naturally the next day you send me seven swans. Seven swans, who need to swim for some reason. They've locked themselves in the bathroom and are hogging the tub. I'm going to smell worse than my carpets by the time Christmas rolls around. Please. Cut it out with the birds. I mean the FIVE GOLDEN RINGS are awesome, they're my favorite. But I have twenty-three birds. That's more than anyone needs, really.

Day 8: Okay so when I said I like the rings and didn't need anymore birds, I pretty much meant I didn't really need anymore anything. I woke up to find a dead cow surrounded by eight maids. They milked it dry, you psychopath. Do you think that's funny? A cow does not need to be milked by eight women at the same time. It's lunacy. Besides, I live in the city, what would I even need a single maid a'milking? That's the most useless thing you could have given me. You would have given Anne Frank a drum set, retard. Please don't send me any more women!

Listen here, woman! I love you dearly, but you're starting to try my patience. When I mocked you about the drum set, I in no way implied that I actually wanted drums. Nine freaking drummers drumming? Are you serious? Like really, the FIVE GOLDEN RINGS were amazing. But no more birds, no more women, just nothing else. Cut it out. Oh great, pipers, that's all I needed. Ohhh and they're actually piping too, awesome. Now there's a freaking punk concert on my front lawn, fabulous. They're scaring the birds, dammit! I don't know what kind of game you're playing but it really needs to stop.

December 26. Dear lover, thanks to you I spent the night in jail. After your dancing ladies and leaping lords showed up, I fired my shotgun into the air to shut everyone up. That sent all the birds into a panic and they rushed the maids, who had been getting it on with the lords. The drummers and pipers were still playing their blasted noise for the ladies dancing. So I guess one of the neighbors couldn't stand the nonsensical ruckus anymore and called the cops. They held me for questioning and forced me to stay for the night to calm down. I told them it was all your fault, lover. So they are coming for you. I feel no pity, you lunatic. Merry freaking Christmas. Oh but thanks for the FIVE GOLDEN RINGS!

No matter what you believe in these days, I wish you a happy whatever it is,

- Sad Blogger

Pasty Shoveler Posted by Happy Blogger , 27.11.09 at Friday, November 27, 2009, in

For the past few weeks, we have been blessed with the absense of snow. In the vast majority of years, snow has atleast been on the ground since October and follows through until April, like Calgary's the cake that's been iced, and throughout the seasons, we just keep adding more chilly white decorations.

It's Murphy's Law that when you say something, the exact opposite will happen. So I blame the snow on me.

The other night, I went over to my aunt's house to collect cans for my fundraiser when she asked me if I could take care of her house while they're gone. As I was bidding good night, my aunt says to me, "Well, I hope it doesn't snow", "But your going to Dominican, what does it matter?". She follows with "I know, but if it snow's, you have to shovel the walks". Cleverly, I replied "Hhaha, watch it snow tomorrow!". Ofcourse, they will go to the Dominican, get great tans and I'll be the frozen pasty kid shoveling walks.

Who'd of thunk that it would have snowed? Cause, honestly I didn't think it would. I mean, I know that Calgary's weather is always unpreditable, but I figured we had been going on a lucky stream.

So, to my fellow Calgarians whom might have forgotten their mitts today whilst walking home, caught the wrong bus and had to take an extra half hour to walk home, cursed out loud when the snow caressed their cheeks but sighed with relief when they got home. And once again, I apologize for my lack of sincerity and joke making irony.

Hope everyone got home safe.
-Happy Blogger (Pasty Shoveler)