Thursday, December 24, 2009

Christmas thoughts...


Typically Christmas is a very depressing time of year for me. Or at least it has been in the past. Well it isn't the past anymore it is the present. Am I still depressed? Not so much since I bought myself a light therapy lamp. Yes, it comes complete with a sunrise function that allows me to awake naturally with the light instead of my alarm that sounds like a missile is being launched in my bedroom. Surprising the lamp works and I have much more energy.

Regardless, of this awesome purchase, which totally has helped me beat the winter blues, I still feel kind of melancholy.
Today I was thinking about all the destruction in the world, all the dead Canadian soldiers who have died in the Afghanistan war. I can't stop thinking about their dead bodies. Yeah, I know depressing. But my heart just goes out to their families and the massive, almost paralyzing amount of grief they must be feeling right now during this holiday season.

The interesting and baffling part of the holidays is how nice people are. I have had some of the nicest conversations with people in the last few days, people I suspect who would never have spoken to me otherwise. It just makes me wonder why people cannot be this way all year round. It would likely remove the need for us to buy gifts at Christmas to alleviate our guilt for being cock suckers the entire year before. It is just plain weird. And inefficient if you ask me.

What else can I say about Christmas, it isn't a holiday I celebrate, as I am not Christian and do not partake in mass consumption, so I have to say I feel a bit alienated. But this is something I feel constantly, holidays aside, so it is my natural state of affairs, nothing to worry about. What it does, is allow me to view the outside world with some sort of detachment. This kind of sounds like someone who is on the verge of suicide, but instead, I think it makes me more committed to my idea of becoming a professional photographer. As the true photographer is completely detached and alienated from society, that is how they take such marvelous pictures. They capture society for what it really is. It is messed up and weird, and doesn't always make sense. And the true photographer doesn't filter or moralize.

And on a tangental note, the dialogue in my head goes a little something like this...


What is a society or a world that permits the killing of people; the type of killing that only war can bring.

I don't know. But it certainly does not make me want to celebrate Christmas.

Good will towards men.

I don't know if I see that. I don't know if that exists. But if it does, I would love the chance to catch it with my camera. Then I could remind myself, anytime I want, that the world is a good place and worth saving.



All my love to you and your families this holiday season,

A K Gregg

Sunday, November 15, 2009

November Novel Writing Month - week two comes to a close



Okay I have passed the half way mark (25,000 words) and I'm still sane. Likely do in part to having my sister visiting a town with no internet access (yes these towns do exist in Canada, although rare), making it impossible for her to send me her part of the pulpy detective novel we are working on.

Being sane right now is good news (especially for my partner!) and a bit surprising, I thought for sure I would be losing it by now, but instead the words keep coming. Great, as long as I don't dwell on the editing process, which will soon follow the completion of the novel.

First problem I have encountered is my novel will not be done at 50,000 words, it is looking more like 60,000 plus words. It makes me wonder if I should just aim for 60,000 by month's end. I kind of want to, if only because I have this wicked momentum going. And of course it will make the possibility of me loosing it more likely. And who doesn't like the idea of a crazy writer?

This success of mine has made me want to create a list of tips on how to make it through the November Novel Writing month, a bit premature, but hey, I can always refine later.

Andrea's Five Tips for Surviving November:

1. Do socialize with living people. Sure it is easy when you are writing to retreat into your mind, where you get to hang out with the fictional characters you have created. Fictional people are fun, you can make them do what you want, and if they start pissing you off, you can kill them off. Not like the real world at all. And one wonders if you are a writer if maybe you have given up on the real world and all its people and their flaws, why else would you be content with hanging out by yourself, drinking shit loads of coffee and typing like a mad person? But let me tell you, coming from one of the most introverted people around, real people are great, their quirks, no matter how annoying help make your writing better. And you never know you may meet someone that is cool, someone that is obsessed with Margaret Atwood as much as you are. And we all know that is hard to find!

2. Be friends with coffee again. I know you quit because you heard, likely from someone who is not credible but insists they are, that coffee is bad for you. But these are lies. Coffee will stay up with you all night, with its comforting warmth, lining your throat with its goodness, and helping you crank out that first draft in record speed. Coffee is probably the only real friend you have.

3. Write when you don't feel like writing. Get in the habit of turning your computer on and staring at the printed words on the screen, or in some cases, the blinking cursor on the screen. Even if you only type out 50 words, it gets you in the habit of writing.

4. Remember that writing is re-writing. This is a first draft people, it better not be perfect or you are doing something wrong. Get the basic ideas down, reuse that word over and over until it makes you want to puke. Just fucking write. When the month ends and your first draft is finished, then you can go back and delete the bullshit and add some awesome prose, and reword and restructure until you can no longer see straight. But just don't do that now.

5. Stop reading my awesome blog and go back to writing.

Good luck fellow writers!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Movie Review - A Serious Man or Why I love the Coen Brothers

So I think it was about a month ago, I was procrastinating from writing in my normal fashion which involves watching movie previews. I watched a preview of A Serious Man, the latest "comedy" to come from the Coen brother's collective lovely brain. Of course I'm excited because it looks weird, which is usually a good thing coming from the bros, but unfortunately I have some time to kill until its limited release in my fair city.

So what's a girl to do? I could write...but instead decide to look up the top ten movies on writers with writers block. Maybe it will inspire me? And it does but not in the predictable way of I don't know actually getting around to writing, but instead the list provides a sign, as the first movie in the top ten list is Barton Fink. Described as a comedic classic from the Coen brothers. I love to laugh so I decide to watch it and in the process remember a few things I forgot about the bros comedy movies.

They are not funny in any slap stick sort of way but funny like David Lynch is funny, which he is not, it is more like a laugh in your head because it was some of the best written witty dialogue you just experienced in fuck forever probably. And you forgot how clever the bros are. You also forgot the violence; like as if anyone can forget that woodchipper scene in Fargo; no, of course not, but ironically we all collectively remember Fargo as being funny. Maybe for the strange Minnesota accents or in David Lynch terms, like when the log lady comes on the scene and you have to laugh because everything else before this moment was kind of macabre. And lastly you forget how damn good the directing is. Joel Coen is a god when it comes to the directing (not dissin' Ethan or anything, he is godly in his own way!), but Joel, the narrow angles the music the pacing, it is right out of the textbook "how to create a suspenseful moment in film." I'm in awe of Barton Fink, and I'm glad I don't have the problems that writer does. But then I'm hooked and I need to all of sudden watch every Coen brothers movie I haven't seen yet. Which I will admit, there isn't a lot I haven't seen.

Next up Miller's Crossing and then Intolerable Cruelty. Both wonderful in their own way for mostly the same reasons mentioned above. And it is at this moment I remember I'm writing about A Serious Man.

It is about a Jewish physics professor, Larry Gopnik, who goes through a string of stressful events, that singularly probably wouldn't be so bad but of course happen all within the span of a couple of weeks. Based on the experiences of the bros growing up in a Jewish suburb in Minnesota. Not literal experiences but more like the metaphorical/symbolic kind of experiences; impressions left on the mind of the child and now portrayed in film, 50 some odd years later by the adults who lived them. Similar kind of realism as Mad Men is to the sixties.

The movie also comments considerably on religious Jewish culture. Which I can't say I'm the expert on, but know a little about, as my partner is Jewish; however, he is secular, so really I don't know a hell of a lot. But I could follow the movie and it worked.

While Larry is slowly going through the process of a breakdown he visits three rabbis to solicit advice on making sense of what is happening to him. Kind of like getting some expert opinion on why god is doing this to him. I don't want to say more than this about the plot because I don't want to detract from the full bodied viewing experience you will receive from opening scene to end credits. But suffice to say, another brilliant piece we can now add to the Coen brothers cannon.

So if you are lucky enough to live in a city that is showing this movie, go now, because god knows some awful piece of Hollywood trash is soon to take its place this coming Friday. The good ones always die so young!

Saturday, November 7, 2009

November Novel Writing Month - week one comes to a close

Yes it is November Novel Writing Month, and yes I have made the insane commitment to write 50,000 words in 30 days. How are things going you ask, well I am now at just over 9,000 words, which is a bit below my daily quota of 1,666 words.

The first week has been quite gratifying, 9,000 words in 7 days is quite the accomplishment in itself. I have no doubt in my mind that I will reach the 50,000 word mark. I have a 19 chapter novel to complete and I'm just about to wrap up chapter one. I started with an outline of all 19 chapters, and already my writing mind has taken me to places I never thought it would.

But that is the best part of writing fiction. The weird and wonderful things that reveal themselves in the process, especially if you are open to letting it. I kind of think of the writer as the archeologist, as you write your story and dig through the earth you find all sorts of treasures. I'm finding out all sorts of interesting things about my characters, more than any character bio would give me.

That being said, the fact that I am writing this blog entry when I should be writing the novel tells us another fun fact about writing - procrastination. Funny how when you sit down to write the need to clean the dishes or bathroom seems like something you need to do immediately. Hey, at least I'm getting my condo clean!

Some fun things I have whipped up in order to procrastinate from writing the novel:
1. Start writing a pulpy detective story with my sister - why focus on just one novel a month when I can do two; unfortunately the second novel cannot go towards boosting my word count.

2. Photography - yes this is an ongoing project for me, but funny how this month the need to hike out to the inner harbor in the middle of the night to take night shots of the parliament buildings seems like a must do.

3. Post a blog entry - doing that right now.

4. Emailing people my blog address - it feels super important for me to make sure that everyone in my email list adds my blog to their favourites - or at least becomes a follower - I have two now, let's see if I can get one more by the end of the month - victory is mine!

5. Brainstorm ideas for my screenplay - April is script writing month - 100 pages of screenplay in one month - apparently I like crazy deadlines...

Okay time to go back to writing the novel, I still have three hours left to meet my quota!

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Halloween...the darkness cometh

The clocks go back an hour and women dress like whores. I know you are asking yourself, "but it is always dark this time of year and the women; their choice of dress is no different than any other time of year. So what the heck is this blog entry really about??"

These are astute observations my fellow readers.

But first a disclaimer. If you are easily offended or don't have a sense of humour please stop reading. For example, for those of you who have watched Stephen Cobert and get mad instead of pissing yourself laughing, do yourself a favour, just click the x box at the top of your browser. And go the fuck away. That wasn't hard, was it now...

This blog is one part an excuse to work out my issues I have with Halloween parties, wherein I promise not to go off on a feminist rant about how disappointing it is for people when all they have accomplished in life is living up to their stereotypes (e.g., men objectifying women and women objectifying themselves); by the way, my promises regarding not going on a feminist rant are rarely if ever met.

One part an excuse to write in prep for the crazy month of November, where I have made the insane pledge to spew out a novel in 30 days, that is 50,000 words in 30 days. That averages about 1,166 words a day or something.

And one part a forum to list items that are way scarier than any Halloween type monster thing.

Let's focus on the latter: Andrea's list of scary things...

1. The torch run for the Olympics - spending a crap load of tax payer's money on an event that only brings joy to the young and semi-retarded middle-aged and is an event whose historical roots are planted in Nazi Germany is flippin' scary! Mostly because it is another "tradition" we blindly follow without really understanding the point. Which mostly just makes us look pathetic. It is kind of like wearing a white dress on your wedding day; sorry honey you are not a virgin, when someone sticks their cock up your ass or you swallow some guy's cum, you are not pure as the driven snow.

2. The celebration of birth - why are we celebrating giving birth in a world that is over-populated with morons. Do we really need more people that are mentally challenged who insist on procreating? Seriously, where is the accomplishment women, in lying on your back and having some guy blow his load in your cunt, resulting in...surprise...you're pregnant! Thousands of teenagers accomplish this every year...I guess that is cause for celebration.

3. November Novel Writing Month - Committing to 50,000 words in one month is scary insane.

4. Halloween parties and their lame-o hosts. Hetero men who invite people to their humble abode in hopes that some dim-witted women attend dressed as a sexy nurse/cop/stripper/hooker/mother, etc., is scary. Mostly because this is so the hetro man/host can wish he was fucking them rather than his homely girlfriend (who really isn't homely, she has just let herself go because she is bored with her partner's lack of sexual performance). Instead the man/host will still not get laid that night but will instead get insanely drunk and end up alone in the bathroom beating off to his stale revisionist memories of when he was a freshmen in college and he got laid lots. Scary indeed. Women beware!

5. The legal ramifications of not classifying my blog as "adult". I honestly didn't intend to get graphic on this blog, but it happens more than I would care to admit. Anyways, I can't seem to figure out how to change that rating after the fact. Sorry...

Happy Halloween!

Friday, October 9, 2009

Amsterdam photos part 4









Western canal belt - bikes and scooters everywhere!












Trying hard to get a shot of the buildings reflecting in the water.












Another attempt at reflection in the water...












Sinking buildings in the Western Canal Belt district.








If you look closely, the second awning (the one without the people seated underneath) has mattresses where you can lie down, drink and smoke. Only in Amsterdam...








Inside the "greenhouse" - coffee shop that has won numerous cannabis cups. I was the only one not smoking pot and instead opted for their humongous portion of scrambled eggs. Yummy...perfect for that hard to cure hangover.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Amsterdam photos part 3

The awesome night shot of the canal. Portrait worthy for sure...






Cathedral...again. Religion isn't just for rednecks after all!













Outside the Anne Frank house - if you want to add a dose of depression to your vacation, I recommend it. No but seriously, "those who forget the past are destined to repeat it." Even though I may have cried a bit, it was worth seeing. And definitely after seeing, you will feel inspired to visit the theater to see Inglorious Bastereds! "Nothing more gratifying then watching Nazis get scalped!"














"Strip mall" that wraps around street. We ate at Sarah's Pancakes, a little shop within the strip that gave a reasonable introduction to savory pancakes for me. Mushroom and cheese pancakes--Yummy!!












The dam. Very crowded.













Coffee in the coffee shop.










Buildings over looking the damrak -- look how close the windows are to the water. Makes me remember Casino Royal - the Daniel Craig movie...not the awesome Ian Flemming book!

Photos from Amsterdam part two

Amsterdam coffee! Which really means smoking...












Possibly the Palace, yes they have royalty where we have Harper. I think the Palace is prettier than Harper any day!












Canal in sunlight. Off to the right is this really cool cafe/place where you can buy beer, on non-wet days there is a terrace that over looks the canal where you can sit, drink & smoke!

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Pictures of Amsterdam

View from our private rooftop terrace.




















Canal view.












Cathedral (one of the many) just outside the Anne Frank House.












What a shopping centre looks like in Amsterdam.













Major intersection in Amsterdam Centre--look at all those bikes!

Monday, October 5, 2009

Amsterdam, why I love you so...

There is something very interesting about arriving in a foreign place and feeling like you have come home. Not the home where you physically live, but the home that you have idealistically constructed in your mind’s eye. It is like awakening in a dream. Vivid.

First off, it is super cool that one of the main forms of transportation here is cycling. Everyone, but tourists of course, cycle here. It is amazing. Streets with no cars but just bikes. Bikes line the streets; shimmering chromium bike fenders reflecting streetlight shine until the twilight of dawn. Beautiful.

Second - beer, gouda, and smoking. Three of my favourite things to digest and here they are reasonably priced. It is almost like the government is allowing me free will to decide what to ingest.

Third - harm reduction. Okay seriously Canada, get over the bandwagon jumping that was the American propagandist favourite: war on drugs. Best way for Canada to get over this recession, make marihuana legal, model the taxation system after the Netherlands. The influx in American tourism alone, will swing us out of this possible depression we are headed towards. [Note of disclaimer: if you didn’t understand the tangent that was point three...read a book, get educated, and then you shall be able to understand the intelligent musings of my genius.]

Fourth - it is comfortable I’m sitting here in the flat I rented, typing away on my MAC. And the weirdest feeling I am perceiving right now is, “How could I not have been born here?” The energy in this city is one of overwhelming familiarness.

Tonight we visited the Jordaan neighbourhood, where we wandered friendly brick-laden streets, hung out in bars with reasonably priced drinks, and met locals that were friendly without being overbearing. After the drinking, we mosey across the street to a coffee shop called “The Spirt”, named after the comic book hero. Coffee shops are a place in the Netherlands, where you can order caffeinated beverages made properly (strong!) and where one can purchase and engage in smoking. This particular shop also identified itself as a games room--video games, pool, air hockey, and poker. After our few games of pool we hang out with the server watching bike racing. And sharing a bonding moment over the ridiculousness of the Pope blessing the Italian biking team. We laugh over the fact that if you broke your neck bike racing you would get an automatic fast track to heaven pass because the Pope blessed your team. Then we leave and head back home, but not before stopping off at the karaoke bar, where I and the humongous titted bartender engage in a duet performance of the classics (Frank Sinatra & Tom Jones). And back home we arrive, and before headed to bed, place the garbage on the street, in piles that adorn the corners of every street. Piles of garbage for Monday,removed early Tuesday morning.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Advice to The Melting Pot

For those of you who don't know, as i am sure there are many, The Melting Pot is a chain restaurant that combines fondu and socializing for dinner. Despite the frightening website where punchy music overlays a moving picture of guests socializing and eating over massive portions of food and fondu pots. In New Orleans, the practically devoid of anything vegetarian city, we chose to go here one night. They had tofu on the menu!

http://www.meltingpot.com/ - check out the website, click on the fondu pots to see the creepy trendy people look at you!

We were greeted by our friendly waitress, Jasmine, who claimed to be Jewish, yet did not know that Ariel was a Jewish name; however, we found her to be quite sociable, yet perhaps misinformed when she claimed she had heard we would be a fun group. We assured her we would not be fun. 

First up, sharing fondu is cool unless you are vegetarian sharing fondu with meat eaters. Since we were a group of four, we only had one fondu pot to share, so we immediately asked for a larger table with two fondu pots. Jasmine obediently obliged our request. 

So far so good, until we get to the menu, which is needlessly complicated even for people with Master's degrees. However, your waitress will explain it in rabid detail and yet still it will go over your head. Besides that the food was delicious. Perhaps it was the one too many margaritas, but we came up with some lovely suggestions for the establishment.

We called poor Jasmine over and explained since it was advised upon ordering that if you are cooking meat in the pot you should leave it in at least two minutes, it would be helpful to have a clock. She thought this was a great idea, as she had heard it before, and offered to bring the owner over, as he was unfortunately working that night. 

As we waited, the drinks going to our heads, we came up with even more spectacular suggestions. The owner emerged reluctantly, and said "Jasmine tells me you all have some suggestions, I would love to hear them." Our poor Jasmine stood by supportively. 

Neil, our awesome friend (see pic below), kicked off the speech, while the rest of us looked on thoughtfully and seriously during the tirade. 

Neil begins, and I try, likely unsuccessfully, not too laugh too much.

First off, we thought you should re-name the cheese pots of fondu, as they have a kind of golden hue and resemble a pot o' gold. Re-name to pot o' gold. 

Second, you must fire all the staff and hire just little people (Jasmine's face was priceless & I'm pretty sure her manager was thinking of firing her at this point for having to hear these awesome suggestions to improve business). Trust me, Neil continues, people like themes, little people serving pots o' gold. 

And lastly, all the little people must wear shirts that say, "ye after me lucky charms!" 

We all look at the manager seriously. Despite Jasmine standing with her mouth wide open in shock, the manager surprisingly didn't flinch at the suggestions. 

Those are some interesting ideas, we will consider them. He leaves quickly, only to return moments later and says: I spoke with the district manager and he thinks there may be a trademark infringement on the "ye after me lucky charms", I believe someone like General Mills may own the rights to that. 

We all have a good laugh. Turns out the crusty manager did have a sense of humour, who would have thought. And poor Jasmine who at one time thought we would be fun guests, was just 

thankful to have a job at the end of the night.

We tipped well, as it was the least we could do for the havoc we may have caused that night and ran off to catch the St. Charles Street car home. No doubt New Orleans will remember the Canadians fondly, for being spirited fun guests!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Cottonmouths, Carpetbaggers, and Drunkards - Welcome to NOLA!

Okay, a bit late on the welcoming email, since i arrived in New Orleans five days ago, but it is a welcome nonetheless.

My sister and I arrived on Tuesday, June 30/July 1, 2009 at midnight to a relatively quiet night in the Quarter. We decide to say hello to our surrogate home for the next two weeks by doing what we do best, drink and bar hop on Bourbon street.

First off, we head to “Jean Lafitte's Old Absinthe House”, whose only redeeming quality is that it is a historical building (opened in 1807), I think it is haunted by a sour bitchy bartender who insisted on giving me my first shitty vodka tonic south of the boarder.

Next we head East down Bourbon looking for inspiration, and we find it, unfortunately in a pseudo hot spot called "Fat Catz". A bustling night club spewing out R&B and a whole host of strange and delightful characters from the 65 year-old Indian man who tried to recruit us as strippers/hookers, to the drunkard tourists shifting their eyes to the beat to the delightful woman in the red dress with long blond locks looking for some tail. Two for one drinks at this establishment, which gives you a mild incentive for visiting this place, unless of course you enjoy watching 6'2", 25 year old trashed tourist men hitting on petite middle aged women. Does not matter how much you drink there is no excuse for this behaviour! We end up leaving after watching a young man serenade his woman with some fancy hip hop moves.

Next we end up on the street engaging in a lively discussion about relationships while standing underneath the "huge ass beers sold here" sign. Naturally we make our first friend of the night in the form of Will the street poet, who gives us a poem and a recommendation for another bar, which I will refer to as "Johnny Walkers" because I fucking don’t know what it is called. Thankfully this joint was adjacent to Bourbon; however, at the door we were greeted with a sign that warned us to be on the look out for "pickpockets and loose women". Surprisingly this did little to dissuade us. It was a darkly lit cute little joint, with a handful of Quarter denizens who insisted on mocking our accents by pretending to be from Chicago. I guess they didn't understand that Canada was a country not a suburb of Chicago.

Taco, our masterful bartender, poured me the best vodka tonic that night; however, with that heat (90 degrees Fahrenheit - almost 40 degrees Celsius) and lack of sleep, piss in a bucket would have been acceptable. Okay maybe not, but you get what I'm saying. Next we engaged with an elderly man named Steve, who told us Texan style jokes (Why don't you need to buy a woman a watch? Because there is a clock on the stove) and talked to us about universal health care. The latter became a regular topic of conversation with the people we have met on this trip.

Brittany Spears' "Toxic" comes on in the bar, we take our cue and move across the street for some grub - cheese pizza slices (1/2 the size of a large Canadian pizza) - the vegetarian's delight. It's about 3:30am now, and we make friends with a patron of the pizza establishment, named Stephen. Dr Stephen (he is a doctor, I'm not making this shit up) and us have many conversations ranging from topics of spirituality to parental abandonment. And then of course I try to recruit him to BC, unsuccessfully I might add - he doesn't want to work for a socialist country. Jebus! These Americans think we are socialist, are they fucking kidding me? Okay, maybe we are comparatively speaking. Ahh whatever, we were drunk, then we all headed to a gay bar, where apparently it was Michael Jackson night, but all I heard was Rob Zombie. When DJs start confusing Michael Jackson with Rob Zombie, it is time to go home.

We stroll into our hotel room around 5 am, and are pleased to find Angel re-runs on tv. We watch about 10 minutes and pass out. What a beautiful and fitting way to say hello to New Orleans.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Sexy Advice on Sex part one

I received a comment from one of my readers; she was hoping that my blog would have a sex advice portion. Apparently I am well known in some circles for providing timely and effective advice on the "how to's" of surviving an intimate relationship with a misguided woman and/or man.

Naturally I obliged, as sex is one of my favorite topics.

Dear Andrea,

First off, I want to say you are awesome, and I so excited that you started this blog, so I can read you all the time! Anyways, back to my question, a guy that I'm seeing is a wet kisser, we are pretty honest with each other, but i don't know how to tell him this without hurting his feelings, how can i tell him tactfully?

Swimming in slobber in Kansas City

Well SSKC, sorry to disappoint you, but feelings are meant to be hurt. No but seriously, well they kind of are, okay moving on. Although i recommend good communication skills as essential to maintain any semblance of a functioning relationship (as my failed relationships can attest to), sometimes harsh news like this, just needs a good delivery. So I can assume you have tried all the passive attempts of trying to tell him, like an exaggerated wiping of your mouth after he kisses you, and he still hasn't improved his kissing technique. Naturally i would try humour as my next step. Like after he lays the next big wet one on you, say "hey Kansas city boy do you have a raincoat, it's getting wet in here". Likely, he won't get it and ask a follow up question like, "raincoat, it isn't raining, it hasn't rained in months, can you please elaborate on your statement?" And you will have to come clean at this point, and say, "actually it is kind of wet around my mouth area." And then wave your hand close to your mouth, so he understands. At this point, you are either forced to address the issue, and he becomes mortified and changes OR he dumps your ass. Either way is a bonus because he stops kissing like a dog.

Your welcome,

Andrea

Monday, June 22, 2009

Drink Recipe #1

My sister introduced me to this one, thanks sis, as it gives you a nice buzz after one drink. It comes from some bartender in Seattle. I think, and I'm pretty sure this is not the name of the drink, it is called:

The Seattle Boat Cruise

crush 1/2 slice of lemon and lime into a highball glass
add ice (preferably crushed)

next add the alcohol:
1 1/2 oz of tequila
1/2 oz of grand marnier
1/2 oz of blue curacao

Add cranberry juice to top it off - if you only have pure cranberry juice (like me!) only add a bit and add apple juice (so it is not so damn bitter tasting!)

Enjoy!

Let me introduce myself

Can't say I really thought I would start a blog; but, recent events have compelled me to do so. Mostly, my total inability to continue with my writing. Yes, I am a writer, just not a very good one at the moment. It's not writer's block or anything so cliche as that, or at least I don't want it to be as cliche as writer's block; but, I am just having some issues with getting the words out of my head and onto my computer screen. So for some reason, I thought, why not start a blog?? Yes, it is a simple as that. And perhaps, as stupid as that. I guess somewhere in the far recesses of my brain I'm thinking that if I write a blog, that should be considered writing, right? I'm sure some jerk will prove me wrong; but, whatever, I like pissing people off!

So I think for now, I will use this space as my place to write my observations of the world we live in gained from the sometimes ridiculous situations I find myself in. So for those of you reading, if you have any ideas for topics send them my way, and I will be happy to give you my perspective on the topic. I certainly love giving my opinion on things....

That all being said, I'm going back up to the beginning, the creation of the blog. When you start up a blog they (as in Google) make you pick a name for it immediately. This of course would not be a problem if "Adventures in AndreaLand" had not already been taken! I know, another Andrea out there in the blogsphere (or whatever they call it) with the same great taste as me. I guess it is not so hard to believe after all, as all Andreas are cool. I honestly have not met an Andrea I didn't like. Anyways, the dream is over and I picked "misadventure, musings & rants", I'm sure those that know me, know this is a fitting title.

Bye for now & thanks for reading,

Andrea