Quick Change Artist

Based on that title, I know what you’re thinking, and no, I’m not a petty thief. Shocking, as I really seem like the type.

I am, however, changin’ shit all over the place. First change? Reinforcing my presence as one half of Kelisa. I’ve been noticeably absent on this blog for the past little while, and my partner in crime (again, not a petty thief) has been successfully taking the lead. Why the absence? In short: I’ve been doing school full-time throughout the summer. Because I am a masochist and I hate sunshine and happiness. Puppies too. And the laughter of children. Hate that shit.

On the plus side, my program finishes in less than a month, which means that I will break free from the cocoon of responsibility and emerge as a butterfly-like reincarnation of Joey Ramone. Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. But I’ll have less constraints and more time to do things like blog, read, see Kelsey, and bask in what is left of the summer sunshine. Just the kind of thing Joey Ramone was into.

Besides my upcoming freedom from school, I’m also pulling a little Emancipation of Mimi and moving out of my family home for the very first time. (From Joey Ramone to Mariah Carey in one mere sentence. Only on this blog.) As of September, I’ll be a lone wolf… with two roommates. The apartment is within walking distance to downtown, and close to important things like the grocery store and my boyfriend’s house. In that order. Aside from the concept of being independent, I’m also looking forward to decorating the apartment in my own taste, a trait that is sorely lacking from my family’s home. One of my roommates, a friend I met in my program at school, has agreed to help me revamp the apartment into a happy, friendly little home. After spending years reading design blogs for fun, I can firmly say that I am up to the task. My only fear is that I may get a little “design diva” if someone disagrees with my vision. I mean, decorating a home is literally my version of every other little girl’s dreams of what their wedding will one day be like. Forget the wedding, and let me take on the living room.

So, what I can say is that in the coming months I’ll try to blog more, learn less, and try not to freak out over window coverings. You know, run-of-the-mill things like that.

- Elisa

Kelisa Eats: Ice Cream!

Nummy nummy in my tummy

Nothing too fancy here – this was some sort of mint chocolate swirl ice cream with my usual berries in it. I thought I was some sort of culinary genius though when I added the mini chocolate chips. Feel free to use this tip yourself – a gift from me to you. (I know it’s not as innovative as I had originally thought, but oh my god, so good.)

Harvest Moon

Nope, not that lame video game that I really wanted to get into but couldn’t. I’m talking, you know, when the moon looks like it’s bleeding and the world’s going to explode. (I know those aren’t related, and that the moon can’t bleed, but they sound scary and they sound even scarier together, so you see what I did, right?)

Too scary

Eric and I ventured out Monday night to Metro for Cyclones (oh my god, too good to be true) (side note: we came back with Cyclones and chocolate chip cookies, mmm) and, when we stepped outside, that horrifying moon was staring at me. Listen, I have never known what this “harvest moon” thing is and so the following conversation occurred:

Kelsey: AHHH. What is that, and are we dying?!?!!!
Eric: Harvest moon, calm down.
Kelsey: I’m terrified.
Eric: Shut up. (Okay, he didn’t say this but this is what I imagine he wanted to say.)
Kelsey: Do you think people feel more like killing when there’s a harvest moon?
Eric: …………………….

And so a harvest moon has now been changed to “death moon.” And I have a research essay in my future studying the correlation of murders and harvest moons.

- Kelsey

Kelisa Loves: Quincy

Behold one of the cutest dogs to ever walk this great Earth – Quincy. Technically, she’s my brother’s dog but she stays with us. Like my brother, she is extra cute, cuddly, and albino. Okay, my brother isn’t albino (and neither is Quincy, really) but that would be a cool coincidence. She is about 6 months older than Molly but acts so much like the canine matriarch of the house. Anytime Molly acts out of the line at all (which is all the time), Quincy’s all up in her grill, growling and biting on her. In contrast, sometimes she humps her. Maybe trying to let her know that, even though she regularly disciplines her, she loves her. The vet says it’s a dominance thing but I like to say it’s a lesbian thing. Imagine how progressive our household would be if we had a gay dog?

Quincy loves sleeping on beds, couches, dog beds on the floor, the floor in general, a chair, maybe a hammock if she could get in it. She loves watching Pick a Puppy and she actually loves puppies in general. What Quincy loves more than anything (including us) is food. This dog is all about the food. She can sense meal time and, if we have not sensed it yet, will bark until we do. I wish I could say that I love this quality about her, but I do not.

She is also a top contender for most neurotic dog on the planet – Elisa’s dog, Reese, may win that competition though. Some of her fears include people at the door, red cowboy hats (my mom got them for me and my friend for Canada Day one year thinking Scary Spice was our fashion icon du jour), a particular green dress of mine, etc. etc. She also can’t stand when Molly’s getting attention and she’s not so she yelps as if someone just cut her tail off so we’ll go spend some time with her. I, as a drama queen myself, can appreciate this approach.

The thing that probably everyone loves most about Quincy is her howling. Whenever a fire truck passes by our house (which isn’t too rare as there’s a fire station down the street) with its sirens on, Quincy howls for at least five minutes straight. Lately, she’s perfected her howling so that she literally sounds like the siren. My dog is a fire truck. My dog saves lives. Meanwhile, Molly tries to get in on the action when she thinks no one’s home and she sounds like a dying cat. Molly will not save lives.

- Kelsey

Heard at Bluesfest

Waiting for Maria-Christina to finish peeing at Bluesfest Saturday night, a guy near me yells to his friend, “Let’s get home and smoke a rock!” And I was all, “Uhhh…” When we met up with Eric, he was like, “I just heard this guy say the funniest thing…” And I was like, “YEAH, I KNOW.” Maria and I have been texting each other since then about how we have to get together to smoke a rock. Hardcore!

Kelisa Eats: Raspberry Sorbet

A couple months ago, Elisa and I got together to watch Dazed and Confused. Now let’s stop right there for a second. Elisa had never seen that movie before! I saw it when I was 7 – my brother’s 9 years older than I am and my parents don’t believe in censorship. It was only like 8 years later that I was like, “Oh, that’s a BONG he’s making in shop class.” I pretty much just sang along with the music and laughed at parts my brother/parents would laugh at. Same thing for Wayne’s World except the music isn’t as good and there aren’t as many hotties. Long story short: Elisa’s wasn’t as charmed by the movie as I am (and everyone else ever) but that is not the point of this post!

Milla Jovovich as Michelle in Dazed and Confused. I wanted to be her when I was younger. Milla, you are too beautiful.

Every Kelisa gathering must consist of yum-yums. I’m pretty sure we had McDonald’s that night, as per usual. Then we stopped at Loblaws, checked out Joe Clothing (how much do you love it?! Because we love it a whole lot), and checked out the frozen desserts section. After some careful deliberation, we chose President’s Choice Blue Menu mango sorbet and raspberry sorbet. One flavor for each member of Kelisa. (Side note on President’s Choice: why is the food so good? I once bought President’s Choice tandoori chicken wings and ate myself into a stupor.) While the mango was pretty tasty, the raspberry sorbet is the nectar of the gods. Imagine the most delicious raspberry flavor in sorbet with the most perfect texture. It’s a shitty description so go out and buy it yourself! Every time I open it and take my first scoopful of it, I can’t help the groan of intense bliss that accompanies it. Honestly, so good.

Now a staple of every Kelisa sleepover

Raspberry sorbet, have my babies.

- Kelsey

 

Blast from the (Unfashionable) Past

Me on the left; Kina on the right

My pal, Karinna, sent me this picture a couple months ago and I couldn’t stop laughing. We’ve known each other since birth – well, her birth since she’s a little under a year younger than me. We grew up in the same neighborhood and were babysat together for a good portion of our childhood. As with most of my friendships, actually, there was a bit of a rough start. You see Karinna really liked me but I really didn’t like her because I was all jealous that she was at my babysitter’s and I wouldn’t be the centre of attention.

So I acted out in really stupid ways. I’d incessantly make fun of Karinna’s mom for her pair of gloves (yes, a pair of gloves) because they had tassels on them. I’d always “fire” my babysitter. I was generally a pretty big bitch for a 4-year-old. Karinna gained my respect one day though when she bit me HARD in retaliation of me biting her (probably the fifth time that day). (I went through a phase of biting and snapping at people when I was angry. I was charming, I know). And then I was all, “Damnnnn, girl’s got some bite to her.” (Get it?) Since then, we’ve bonded and live happily ever after as besties who love to play Mario Kart, drink vodka, and talk about boys. (Judging from the photo, our Santa also likes the vodka too.)

The reason why the picture makes me laugh so much is because it is so illustrative of our dynamic at the time. Me pretty happy and showing off, Karinna sad because I probably just tried to gnaw off her leg like the wild beast I was(/am).

- Kelsey

Kelisa Rants: Chopstick Challenge

Enthusiastic competitor

Whenever Eric and I go out to eat where chopsticks are involved (generally Ging Sing – oh my god, so good, dying), he chopstick challenges me as we wait for our food. The weird thing is, every time he initiates the challenge (“Challenge you!”), he says it as if it’s the first time he’s thought of it. This happens every time without fail and yet I never expect it and my first response is always, “Grrrrr.”

It’s not that I’m unskilled with chopsticks, it’s that the competition focuses on picking up non-food objects. In case anyone reading was unaware of this, CHOPSTICKS ARE FOR EATING. Items to be picked up (or at least attempted) included at our last visit the Kikkoman bottle (as shown above), other chopsticks, and the teapot (?!?!). It’s not that I find this practice annoying per se, but imagine waiting patiently for the most heavenly food you have ever tasted while teapots and soya sauce bottles are being dropped all over the table. (Okay, in his defense, nothing has ever dropped but know that I will update you when it inevitably does). On the other hand, Eric paid for dinner last time and so I guess he has the right to chopstick it up all he wants.

For the record, I never partake in the chopstick challenge which kind of demeans the “challenge” part of the activity. But I will have you know that Eric invariably resorts to a fork at some point in his meal to eat the rice and I NEVER DO. Thus, I always win the (real) chopstick challenge. Annnnd I always win Mario Kart Wii.

- Kelsey

Kelisa Loves: Teen Mom

Okay, I’m not so sure that Elisa likes Teen Mom - she’s more of an intellectual than I am, and I’m fairly certain that all intellectuals are sent an annual list of do’s and don’t's and watching Teen Mom is a definite don’t. I, on the other hand, love Teen Mom. Now I don’t love it in the dumb way that some teen girls do, i.e. want to have a kid myself to maybe get a TV show, although who’s going to give an almost 23-year-old a TV show for having a kid (unless I’m having 10 kids)?

Something that makes me angry though is the amount of people who HATE this show. I mean, if you hate this show, and every other insipid reality show out there, all the power to you. But people who single out this show as sole victim of their hate and yet gladly sit down to watch Jersey Shore or that dumb show about little people or The Real World or The Bachelor/Bachelorette (WAY WORSE) confuse me. One reason they’ll say is that Teen Mom glamorizes young motherhood. Jersey Shore glamorizes being a huge douchebag and getting alcohol poisoning regularly (not to be too cruel, I sadly am hooked on Jersey Shore) but that’s not as deplorable as giving birth before the age of 20, apparently.

My first instinct is to stand up for these teen moms. Maybe it’s because my mom was a young mom when she had my brother. He turned out fine. I, au contraire, now share a blog with my best friend where I regularly talk about boners – and she had me when she was 26! Honestly, I get more frustrated when I’m at a restaurant and I see a yuppie mother with a horrible, screaming child running all over the place and in her least threatening voice, she’s all, “Aidan, please sit down. Aidan, now. Aidan, I’m counting to 5. 1…………… 2……………. 3, 4, 4 and one quarter……………. 4 and a half….” WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SHIT?! Tell your brat to sit his ass down and shut up and be done with it. Middle-aged people, in general, have children because it’s a trendy accessory for their SUV’s. Next time, get a dog.

Along that line, some of these teen moms really are great moms even if they don’t have the same disposable income as the yuppie parents previously mentioned. Just because they made a dumb choice to have unprotected sex doesn’t mean every subsequent choice is wrong. And Teen Mom also has a couple who gave their kid up for adoption… aaaand they happen to be the cutest couple in the world and I want to hug them.

I was contemplating this post when I was watching the first episode of Teen Mom season 3 last night. Maci’s struggling to take care of her son while dealing with lack of child support payments; Catelynn and Tyler are getting ready to move in together; Amber is trying to make her relationship with Gary work for their daughter (we know how that one turns out); and Farrah is GETTING A BOOB JOB. Really, Farrah?! I’m trying to do you a favor with this post. The fact that you took out a bank loan to get your boobs done is not helping your case. Think about that.

- Kelsey

Kelisa Eats: Spring Rolls

These are Ging Sing spring rolls and, as you may have deduced by the number we had ordered, they are AMAZING. When I first introduced Eric to the wonder of Ging Sing, we got two orders of spring rolls (i.e. 4 spring rolls). The next time, he insisted we get three which we did for subsequent visits. Until last time when he was like, “Let’s get 20 orders” and I was like, “You know that’s 40 spring rolls, right?” We compromised and settled on six orders (12 spring rolls). We did not finish all the spring rolls at the restaurant but had four for leftovers that night and then immediately fainted from the deliciousness. Notice Eric is showing off his chopstick skills.

I promise a full Ging Sing post is coming sometime soon but I didn’t have my (real) camera last time we visited and the iPhone camera just won’t do it justice.

- Kelsey