Friday Favorite: Sloan Sabbith

I seem to have a hard time writing as of late. Between trips to CA and Hawaii and some doggy health scares I just haven’t been in the mood. But Ramona’s on the mend and summer is ending, which probably means the great weather we’ve had over the past few months is on its way out. That means less time outside and more time for blogging (maybe . . . we’ll see how this goes).

In the meantime, here is a little snippet of the awesomeness that is Sloan Sabbith from The Newsroom. I want to be her when I grow up.


Friday Favorite: Forty Ninth Parallel

Friday Favorite: Forty Ninth Parallel

I have a major coffee addiction. I never drank it in college or even during much of my 20s, but now it is my very favorite thing in the world. One great thing about Vancouver is access to really amazing coffee and after much searching I have to say Forty Ninth Parallel ( is the best. The Kitsilano shop has this deal where you can get coffee and a donut for about $5. Their iced coffee is way better than anything else I’ve tried and there are always different flavors. This one had a hint of strawberry in it, I think. SO GOOD.

Cultural Differences

Sometimes I feel particularly American, in the most unflattering ways possible.

Case in point: last night during Canada’s crack at fireworks glory.  (Canada brought it, FYI.  Definitely better than the UK, and I wasn’t sure if that was possible.  All of a sudden I’m very into the world of competitive fireworks displays).

Right before the show started, this jerk stood up and blocked the view of about half the people gathered in the park.  People were pissed, but rather than tell this douche canoe to sit down, I noticed that they just moved around him and repositioned themselves rather than complain.  I, on the other hand, was this close to punching him the face (ok, or yelling at him to sit down).  At home, someone would have told this guy to sit down within the first few seconds of the show.  Here, it took almost 20 minutes for someone to do it (and by someone, I mean my American husband who, like me, couldn’t understand why no one had spoken up before then).  

I don’t want to generalize and say that all Canadians are way more patient or less confrontational than Americans, but this was definitely the case last night.  The general attitude was one of “I don’t want to ruin this guy’s night so I’ll just adjust” whereas mine was “this guy is ruining my experience and my happiness is all that matters.”  Sometimes I feel like an asshole here because I’m super impatient and used to things being a certain way.  I catch myself being that American.  The one who expects the world to just conform to her wishes.  It’s super unflattering.

I should probably take this opportunity to learn to chill out and not let little things like this bug me since clearly that is more the norm here.  However, if I see that guy pulling the same douche move at Thailand’s show on Saturday, we’re going to have a problem.  An American girl can only take so much.