Not Ready for the Jelly

Cowgirls of the world, unite! But I won’t join you. Because I’m not one. I’m just stuck in this horse-forsaken town. Or not stuck. Just visiting. Yay! Another day! We got up at a reasonable hour to take in some doughnuts with Sis’s friend Carlo. I like to say his name by, like, snapping my fingers and drawling it with a Spanish accent. I’ll do it for you sometime if you ask me nicely. We headed to this new joint, Jelly.







I don’t think I was ready…for this jelly. It was too bootylicious for me. I had this little breakfast box thing with a gross red delicious apple and some yogurt. The doughnut was decadent though – coconut custard. Yummo.

Sis had organized some sister time after brekkie, and so we headed out to some Winatoba-mall-like place for manicures. We couldn’t figure out how to get inside as the sign appeared above a Co-op store? Very bizarre. We just headed through the Winatoba hallway and, voila! Mani-pedi central.





This was the nicest they looked at any point. The polish, though shiny and glorious to start, refused to dry for a full 24 hours and thus I woke up the next morning with cute blanket-imprint lines. Yay.

Anyway, after the spa time, we headed to a sophisticated B lunch. We ordered requisite martinis and everything.









Our next activity came on like a Chinook. We jay-walked across the road from Sis’s house, to Chinook Centre, and tried some shopping. And then I saw more Calgary monstrosities. This city has much to learn about style.





Oi! My eyes are burning! Yeesh. See? Some girl with her pants down. Does looking at this display make you want to buy any of the items? Heavens to Murgatroyd!!

We headed out for a late dinner to Olive Garden, because it’s a classy establishment. And Sis wanted breadsticks. Turns out the Olive Garden in Calgary has some of the heavenliest goods as far as Olive Gardens go. I like that.



The next morning we decided to give 17th Ave another try. We sat on the patio at a pasta place and tried to enjoy some sun.



We then found another cat head shop. This time we went inside. It was pretty cat-heady.









A shoe store was selling United Nude shoes and I asked to try on a pair. I asked for a size and he brought out a pair. I tried to put it on my feet and it was clearly wayyy too small. I was like, ‘zugh? Why doesn’t it fit?’ And he was like, ‘ohh…I don’t actually have your size, but maybe a smaller one would fit..’ Idiot. I know how big my feet, are thx.

We parked near some hippies doing laundry.



Oh yes! Today was Easter too. Sorry, Lord. I didn’t really forget that you left the tomb. So let’s feast. Sis and I stocked up on goods at Superstore and cooked ourselves a delightful dinner to celebrate the occasion.





The night concluded with some wine swilling and the made-for-TV-movie about Will and Kate. He had soo much hair.




ilu pswilm.

Easter Monday we headed out to Kensington, where some lady told us (unprovoked) how to cross a street. Thanks.





Dinner was at a Chinese buffet since we thought we found one that wasn’t, you know, dumpy with loads of msg.





On the plane that night, I looked out the window and to my surprise, I thought another Westjet plane was flying right alongside us. YES. A BLONDE MOMENT.



Ha…ha?

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I Went Easter

Easter weekend is the slam-dunk holiday of the year! Boo-yah! I love it. Two stat holidays, back-to-back on either side of a weekend. What more can you ask for after a nearly-four month period in the desert of work? Every year I do something. And this year, I decided it was the perfect opportunity to head out to visit my sister in Calgary without taking a minute extra off work. I need those holidays for something yet-to-be-determined.

Thursday night I headed to Abbotsford airport amid the playoff series of the year: Canucks vs. Black Hawks. Of course, it was only game five and everyone knows how that series turned out, but the airport was a-buzz that night, with the guys on the PA randomly shouting, “GO CANUCKS!” lol


Almost every night is hockey night in Canada.



The flight is less than an hour so that’s a bonus. Also, they streamed the game live on the seat-back TV’s. I find it much easier to watch with no sound. Those announcers stress me out with their intonation.



Calgary arrived without delay and pretty soon Sis and I were off into the wild black (which would have been blue had it been daylight hours), whipping through the city her in Sable Buick Dynaride, stopping only to fill our bellies at Denny’s.



The next morning, I was like an eager kid to wake up and make my own breakfast – I do this at home but somehow it’s more fun when there is a Keurig at your disposal.



Sis obviously had no guilt sleeping when company’s over and I had to go get her to wake up around noon. That kid! We headed down to one of my favourite haunts, Holt Renfrew…where they ignored us and when they didn’t, were condescending ::shock::. We wandered around and fount a cat head shop.



A stint at the Bay also helped drive home the serious style of Calgarians. Please tell me no one actually wears these…



Dinner was a this pretentious place called El Sombrero on 17th for Mexican. The waitress was a massive b who might have spit in our food, though we were nothing but angels to her. Whatevs b.






Random duck





After a completely rocking trip to the Superstore where people would fart next to me in the spice aisle, we concluded the day. And so ends the first half of my adventure in the town populated by cows. Re-join the sisters tomorrow for part two as we eat donuts, get manicures, wreck them, and see a girl with her pants down in the mall. It totally happened. What.

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Dace

Things always pick up in April. Tax season. Boo. But it also means that my annual opportunity to lend my head for modeling purposes comes around. And finally, after years and years of failed attempts and no-shows, B and I managed to do it together…ish.

Prior years here, here, and here, this year was much the same as my prior two stints with KPSS (home of Goldwell and KMS) – get up at an impossible hour, get dolled up, and head into Coquitlam for the 9 AM model call.



They do the whole walk-around, talking about hair thing and when the dust settled, I was sitting pretty with Goldwell and Janelle with FI Hair. They got to work, furiously colouring and poking at our heads, mixed in with some food and copious amounts of sitting around. Ah, the glamorous life of models. lol





After seven hours, we were set free into the world with newly-coloured hair and a promise to show up at the big show the next morning at 7:30 AM for the next part. Ugh. Our next stop was downtown…and, I’m slightly embarrassed to say, a concert filled with screaming teenage girls (and some teenage guys.) Pimples, everywhere. We showed up at the box office two hours before doors opened to buy tickets and discovered a line-up of girls down the street waiting to rush inside. Right. We went off and enjoyed a leisurely dinner and headed back to the theatre five minutes before the show started. Because if there is anything I’ve learned, it’s to show up before your band plays.



Curious about the screaming girls? They were there for their hometown heroes, These Kids Wear Crows. Why was I there? Because their bassist is my boss’s son and I was showing support. Cue the dance-pop brigade.





These blurry and shadowy photos were taken with my iPhone from my plush seat in the back row. Gosh, I think I may actually like shows where I can have a comfy seat and an unobstructed view. Three cheers for the Vogue and a non-sold-out show.

Fefe Dobson was up next, but it was obvious the crowd had cleared out somewhat. I tried to stay as long as I could, but the interest simply wore off as she played on. I can’t care. Plus I gotta be up early. Later days, Fefe.

The next mornings’ wake-up call was as brutal as expected. Starbucks-less, we drove, parked, hopped onto the Skytrain, and trudged up and down the necessary escalators into the giant exhibition hall.






Where are all the bajillion Sun-Runners? Not that I’m complaining…





As with other years, there were some *ahem* annoying models who thought that being in a hair show made them real models now. There was even one lady who appeared to think she was the star of the show and proceeded to take and post photos on Facebook of her and the admittedly (and obviously) gay stylists to make her boyfriend jealous (and I quote.) Fill your boots lady.


Hat hair. Literally.


Could someone be updating their Facebook? *Ahem*

B was on stage first and was the star of her segment. Of course she was!






Chotto rock style! Yeah!

Next up was me, way upstairs in the educational theatre…did I mention this entire trade show is on the harbour in Vancouver? Gah. It’s amazing.



Before picture:





Action shot


Everyone is being educated by my head. It is always a painful experience.



Thanks to some excess chatting my stylists part, my haircut never got finished in the session and so I had to trudge back down to the trade floor with puffy, partially-styled hair. At a hair show. Embarrassing! But he finished the cut when we got downstairs. The cut was called ‘Dace’ and was explained as a helmet cut with some bang fringe coming out the front of the helmet. Here’s the pro shot:



And my version…


Um…I wish they had made it wavy like in the photo. Whatever. But I like it!

After stocking up on lots of cheap hair goods, we bid farewell to the crew and headed out into the seaside air for some dinner food. Turns out that the sweet Rogue bar in the train station had half-price pizzas on Sunday. Yesssss





So, in conclusion, I would like to say that I’m happy that they didn’t cut me a mullet. Again. They always cut me a damn mullet. Although I’m sure my hair will grow into one. It likes to look like a mullet, I think. See you next year!

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