I am a bottomless pit

I didn't eat any Peeps today (only because there weren't any handy), and yet, it was exactly that kind of day -- the kind where you know that if you wouldn't be ashamed you could just sit at home and eat, and eat, and eat all day long. Pizza and ice cream and candy and nachos and beer...my God, it's like a fantasy (well, technically it is since I don't actually have most of this stuff on hand...boo hoo!). I don't know why some days are like that, but it's ridiculous. Thank heavens I had to go to school today or I would probably be dying right now of a heart attack, or gout, or...I don't know...embarassment. They'd have to cut out my apartment wall to get me out.

I really want someone to explain to me why this happens sometimes, the insatiable hungries. And no, there's no drugs involved...sadly, I have no excuse. And also sadly, I have no more ice cream.

First thing tomorrow - the gym. I swear.

TGIT

Wow, I can't even begin to tell you how freaking happy I am it's Thursday. I ended up having to spend some time today reworking my schedule, and the one class I REALLY want to get into is super-small and I'm 8th on the waitlist...so it's not really looking good. The one I signed up for in the meantime sounds interesting though -- so at least there's that.

Other than schedule drama, there just isn't much going on. I already feel behind and it's only the first week...what a shock. I've got plans for tonight, tomorrow, tomorrow night, and Saturday night, so at least I'm not lonely or sitting around going "gee, what should I watch on TV tonight?" I still don't have a job.

Overheard in voir dire

Tonight in (mock) voir dire:

Lawyer: "Does anyone have any experience working with children?"
Juror #5 raises hand
Lawyer: "Juror #5, what do you do with children?"

I was lucky enough to be given the feedback that I should stop acting like it was an inquisition -- quit being so direct. I feel like I spent four years in the military being trained to be as direct as possible, and it's SO HARD to turn that off, besides the fact that it's sort of a natural part of my personality to be pretty straightforward and direct. I know full well it can be abrasive at times, but I REALLY thought I was doing a good job of being conversational. Perhaps this is a lesson in my "real life" as well. Note to self: drink ALOT more ALL the time...this makes you seem funny and not abrasive, at least to you!

Problem solved.

Putting the Psycho in Psychoanalyze!

I had the weirdest dream last night...well, maybe not the weirdest one ever (that was the one with the goat and the candle...oh never mind), but pretty strange nonetheless.

So, I'm going to open it up to interpretation.

First, I was living in a house with our Law School Psychologist, we'll call him Dr. B. Now, Dr. B is an attractive guy but I've met him like twice in three years and as far as I know I don't have any weird mental thing going on with him either consciously or subconsciously (which I guess I wouldn't know about, but whatever). What I'm saying is that there are a few men here, both professors and students, that I could imagine having appear in one of my dreams, and Dr. B isn't one I would expect. But, I'll leave all of that to your interpretive skillz.

Next, the whole house was filled with snakes. Like, I would try to walk across the room and a snake would go right by me on the floor and I would freak out and jump on the bed, only to realize that there were snakes all in the covers and under the sheets (mind out of gutter, NOW), and slithering out from under the bed and everything. There were big snakes and small ones, and all different colors (seriously, out of the gutter!), and I didn't have a clear sense whether they were poisonous at all, but I was scared of them.

Lastly, Dr. B and I were trying to catch the snakes and throw them out of the room using tongs. Like the kind you use to grasp a corn cob out of boiling water (for lack of a better example...why does this shit just pop into my head?). So, I would try to grab the tail of the snake as it disappeared under my pillow, and I would always miss it, and then like three more would come back out the other side. Dr. B wasn't so much a participant in all of this as he was just there and I recognized that he was also battling the snakes, but we weren't really talking much.

I had trouble falling asleep last night, so the two hours of sleep I got were totally dedicated to this nonsense.

Now, discuss.

My life, where truth is stranger than fiction....

In Trial Advocacy class we are working on voir dire this week. This is important because we have to bring an "outside person" to class so that there will be enough people on the "jury" to make it interesting. If you bring a law student, they have to either be who they were before law school or use a made-up persona. My friend and I both needed someone, so I went to hers tonight and she's coming to mine tomorrow. OK, now you have the important background.

The case we're doing for our criminal trial this quarter is a self-defense case, a woman who murdered her (maybe) abusive, (maybe) alcoholic husband and who may herself have been having a (maybe) affair. Anyway, obviously voir dire covered the following issues in depth:

Domestic violence
Guns/Attitudes about guns
Adultery

Strangely, I hadn't thought much of this when I walked in all prepared to use my "before law school" self to answer questions. I was Juror #4.

"Do any of you own a gun?" That's a yes for Juror #4!

"Have any of you been the victim of domestic violence?" Another yes for Juror #4!

"Have any of you ever been effected by adultery in your marriage or intimate relationships?" Yup, me again!

"Do any of you have strong beliefs about gun ownership?" OOOOHHHH, pick me! Pick me!

"Does anyone have experience being intimidated or abused by someone under the influence of alcohol?" Well, duh!

Soooooo, basically, using my real life from before law school, I was the Problem Juror. In some aspects though I felt like the only real person. I mean, this is the TVPNM, so I guess I expect (generally) to be the only person in any given room who's a gun owner, but it was weird to have to answer all these personal questions -- it kind of made me feel very adult or something to be the only one in the room with any apparent back history in terms of these issues.

Also, just a tip. If you are a (mock)lawyer, and you're doing voir dire, and someone tells you that their job is "Air Force officer," the appropriate response is probably not "Oh, how do you like it?" If you're going to ask every other person what their job entails, why not me? How else will you find out that my Air Force job is very much like being a prosecutor, that I impose military punishment on people who I have determined are in violation of military law, and that I'm not very defense friendly (in general)? Huh...perhaps a question or two would be in order. But, to be fair, time was very limited and everyone was ready to go. I just was sensitive to it because it happened last year too where people asked what I did and when I said "Air Force officer" they just went "Oh OK" but then asked the person who said "Student" like 400 questions about their major and coursework and stuff. I wonder how many people think that "military officer" is a COMPLETE job description? Like, all military officers just sit behind desks doing the exact same thing with no differentiation whatsoever. I know I'm overly sensitive about this because I grew up in the military and have never NOT known it, but it's always kind of shocking to me how little the general public knows about it.

Are you boys building an interociter?

As it turns out, I should be FINDING job openings and APPLYING to them. Well...good to know.

My search is over!

Well, I don't need to look for a job anymore. There's an opening for a "foaling attendant" in my parent's town. I can live at home and make $7.50/hr to stick my hand up a horse's ass and help horse babies come out in big gushy blobs of grossness. I'm crossing "buy resume paper" right off my shopping list.

UPDATE: Wait. Never mind. Someone is looking for an "Exp. Tree Climber." GAME OVER BITCH! I can climb a tree like nobody's freaking business.

UPDATE2: I could do this one, I mean, God, I FULLY have a high school diploma!!

"ADULT SHOP NOW HIRING Sales Associate Part and Full time positions available. Graveyard? High School Diploma required. Cashier experience preferred. $7.50 to start Apply at 261 E. Barnett."

First day of the last quarter of my life.

Went back to class today. Eh.

It's hard to get excited in my current mood, which is somewhere between "Utter and Total Despair" and "Complete Effing Apathy." But, so far my classes seem cool, so...ummm...cool. The only downside so far is realizing my Thursday class is going to conflict with the rowing class I signed up for -- gonna have to figure that out somehow.

I have a meeting tomorrow with my "career coach" up in Career Services. Not by choice but because I got an email today demanding that any 3L without a job (FOR SHAME!) go and see the dean of career services. I feel like I am getting called to the principle's office to explain my errant ways. "I don't know Dean! I HAVE tried to get a job! I HAVE! No I didn't staple Johnny Goodstudent to the toilet seat in the mens bathroom! NO!"

So yeah. Not much to report. Tomorrow I have time to get back in the gym and it's not a moment too soon -- mentally and physically.

File under "F" for "Fucking Unbelievable"

This article at AskMen.com suggests the six "craftiest" ways to tell your "girl" that she needs to lose some weight. They are so asinine, insulting, and ridiculous that I will go ahead and post them in their entirety (my comments in red) so we can all see what a jackass the guy that wrote these is without even having to click the link:

1- "I don't like the way that outfit looks on you anymore."
Every woman has a go-to getup (Really? God, I must not have gotten the memo, good thing this guy is so schooled in the ways of women). If you don't know it, you don't know her well enough to discuss her flabby stomach (NOBODY knows me well enough to discuss my flabby stomach. Not even my doctor. Just don't). The only thing that could ever change the way an outfit looks is the way it fits. Tell her you aren't sure why it looks odd, suggest a looser knit, and watch her forever skip the nachos with cheese (Or, alternatively, watch yourself never get laid again. Whichever).

2- "I can't get over how fat I feel."
Women have been commiserating with each other for eons about the thickness of their thighs. If you launch a pity-party of your own about how heavy you feel, and let her know at every turn, she'll become fat-obsessed by osmosis (Who doesn't want to date someone that's fat-obsessed? Doesn't that sound super-fun!?). Women have been doing it to each other since the dawn of public washrooms. It's so awesome how easy women are to figure out. Since the dawn of time, we've been exactly the same and will never, ever, ever, ever change, so why bother thinking of them as individuals?

3- "Your friend isn't nearly as attractive since she gained that weight."
Be careful. Delivery is everything. Pick her homeliest friend and let your most outrageous BS fly (Nothing says "Hey, I'm a trustworthy guy" like BS'ing your girlfriend and picking on her "homely" friends). Pick an attractive pal, and you'll be explaining your wandering eye till you give her a ring (You know how the bitches are...always angling for that ring!). Focus on the improbable target, and she'll be thinking that if you find her bookworm buddy hefty, perhaps a diet should be on her docket. Nothing makes me want to lose weight more than finding out my boyfriend is a misogynistic piece of shit who rags on any of my friends he doesn't consider to be fuck-worthy...usually, right after the breakup, I hit the gym and think about him when I've lost 10 pounds and start screwing a guy 10 times hotter than he could ever imagine being.

4- "I have a new female trainer at the gym."
She'll never suggest fewer trips to the gym, but it will drive her bonkers to think that another woman is spotting your squat thrusts. She'll sign up and show up within 24 hours just to keep an eye on you. Ahhhhh...the sweet smell of trust in a relationship. I love nothing more than a guy I have to babysit 24 hours a day because he can't be trusted to be out in public by himself without trying to bed every woman he meets...well, judging by the article, probably only the thin ones he meets. Fatties need not apply!

5- "The saleswoman said it was for smaller women."
If you want your baby to shed some baby fat, spend a couple of bucks on a nice little fashion piece a couple of sizes out of her reach ("Honey...I got you this sexy man-g-string for Christmas! Well, yeah, it's a large. I know you're not a large! I was hoping that if I got something a couple of sizes out of your reach you could work on the places you're, well, you know...lacking"). If she is thin in your eyes, and the only thing telling her otherwise is a piece of clothing, she'll work morning, noon and night to fit into that cursed thing. So, if she's thin in your eyes, still make sure to give her clothes too small so she'll spend her entire life tortured by the thought that you don't find her sexually attractive or desirable. Boy, that'll be great for your sex life!

6- "Let's help each other lose a couple of pounds?"
Let's face it. If you tell your girlfriend to lose some weight, she'll withdraw your all-access pass to her wonderful folds (WHAT THE FUCK?). But an honest commitment to work together to become fitter and shed some unwanted girth can only be met with the excitement that your investment in her is the same as what she is willing to invest in you. This is the only suggestion that is even moderately non-offensive in this entire article.

Losing weight is no small task. Make her sure you're worth it

keep her thin (And isn't this the most important thing...you don't want her ballooning up and embarassing you! If worse comes to worse, you could always tie her fat-ass up in the basement and physically restrict her eating until she loses the weight, and that would probably help with getting laid too! BONUS!)

Remember men, to influence her decision to lose weight while avoiding any sore feelings is to make everything about you (Yes men, please don't forget, for even one moment, that it's all about you!!!). How you feel, what you think, what your opinion is; these are the things that will separate you just enough from the battle that is ultimately hers. The minute you make it about what you think she's doing wrong, you're dead meat, and we're all coming after you.

Weight loss takes time, so be patient. (Yeah, be patient. Just because you've been lying and conniving and manipulating is no reason to get greedy and demand instantaneous results!)

Yeah, so this is basically some of the most ridiculous crap I've ever seen in my life. Thankfully it came from AskMen.com, a site that has no journalistic intregrity or value whatsoever, and I'm pretty sure the author was one of their caveman readers, but God. God.

Weekly Law School Roundup #12 (?)

I'm actually not sure if this is number 12, I'll have to double check that. Such a slacker...seriously.

OK, here we go.

Shooting 'em down...Walking Tort style. (Camel Nose Under the Tent)

Drunk dialing Cella Bella style. (Cella Bellum)

And a couple on my partial "theme" for the week...job hunting:

Dear Sir, I have no job. (You Can't Get Arrested For Being Awesome)

OK, now panic. (Equal Process?)

You mean I have to pay these loans back? (Ambivalent Imbroglio)

Getting used to the rejection. (Frolics and Detours...her permalinks are broken, so head about four posts down to the March 1st entry)

The lighter side of rejection. (Magic Cookie)

OK, back to the regularly scheduled program.

Taking a beer order for the boss. (The Namby Pamby)

Super Smart Valley Girl. (The Bitter Law Student)

Participate in a very valuable survey to help a deprived law student decide which classic movie she needs to see most...it's sad when someone hasn't seen Goonies! (Neutral Zone Trap...helping out Frolics and Detours)

Alright, there's always a possibility I'll add more later, but thanks to the people who emailed me, and look for it next week at Evan Schaeffer's Legal Underground.

Roundup...there's still time.

Due to my meltdown last night (see post below), I am going to spend this morning out on a restorative walk with a couple of friends. That means you have a couple of more hours to send me links for the Roundup if you'd like. I have about five or six picked out already (with no theme, as usual), but I can always use more.

Whining

OK, here's the thing. If you're one of the people that has found a job, good for you. Congrats. Seriously. You probably have better grades than me, interview better than me, and/or are just more deserving of employment than me. The thing is, I am upset that I don't have a job. I'm unhappy. I'm depressed. I'm anxious. I wonder how I will pay my bills. How will I pay my rent? How will I pay my loans? I am stressed out because Career Services seems to REFUSE to help me almost as a matter of policy, because there is never anything listed on any of the job boards to even APPLY to, and logic would dictate that if I am not applying to anything I won't get anything, and because I wasted 8 months working for Big Government Entity only to get effed in the end because they have a hiring freeze and can't hire me and every firm I interview at, big or small, says "Hey, you know what? You'd be great in the government" and then sends me packing. I'm pissed off that people with little to no professional experience, and sometimes little to no actual personality, can get jobs, and I can't, even with four years as a military officer, awesome law school jobs, great recommendations, and decent (at least above the curve) grades. And a master's degree.

So yeah. When you all feel pissed that I am upset, or I'm not letting it go, or I get all weird and angsty when everyone is sitting around talking about their post-law-school-employment, I'm just telling you. There's a reason. My stomach hurts all the time. I feel like crying every time I think of having to go back and do some stupid job that I could have done before law school to pay the bills until I can find a law job, and how I just wasted three years of my life and $100K to get NOWHERE. I don't have anything in this city. My family isn't here. My husband left me less than a year before I started school and the only guy who apparently wanted to date me in this entire craptastic city dumped me, I don't have a job, and three years of my life are gone in a haze of people who weren't nice to me, classes I didn't understand, and crushing rejection on all fronts.

Yup. I'm upset. Unhappy. Pissed off. I'm sorry more people can't seem to understand what I'm going through here, but being in a black hole of debt with no discernable way out, and getting about three rejection letters a day, and being dumped and alone and lonely and poor just fucking sucks. It just does.

Madonna sucks.

I just thought you should all know that I think the leotard DOES NOT need to come back, which means that Madonna, that dirty whore, needs to quit wearing them in her videos. I'm not sure how many of you are old enough to remember the true heinousness of the leotard, but it was pervasive and all-encompassing. My mom had an entire collection of matching leotards and legwarmers for her aerobics classes (that she taught), and I used to put them on when she wasn't home and pine for the day I'd finally be old enough for my own leotards. PINK GLITTER! That was my dream. Do you see how sick that is??

When we lived in Korea my mom would get matching leotard sets HANDMADE for her body by tailors. It's very common for American military living in Korea to get handmade goods because it's so cheap. My dad has several hand-tailored suits, we all had handmade shoes and boots, jackets, shirts, etc. But honestly, LEOTARDS? My mom loved to watch "The 20-Minute Workout"...does anyone remember that?? So, she used to get leotards made with like the top half red, the bottom half blue, and a red and blue belt, and then red and blue striped legwarmers. Etc. You get the picture. And I idolized that shit.

Anyway, now Madonna is trying to bring back the leotard and she needs to quit because it's not good. Not good.

You mean there're rules? About how to behave? For LAWYERS?

I hate it when someone steals my Professional Responsibility final exam and tries to pass it off as news.

Jazz is fun.

Last night my friend took me and Ex-Roomie to a club to see his former piano teacher play in a jazz quartet and it was AWESOME! I'm totally in love with live jazz now and my friend has promised to bring me some good CD's to help me figure out what I like and what I want to be listening to. God, it was so great. All the musicians were amazing and, as always, I'm fully jealous of people who have musical talent (or any creative talent whatsoever). I can't wait to go again!

The only downside to the night was that Ex-Roomie had been feeling not so good all day, and pretty much five minutes after we walked in to the club, she headed for the bathroom and didn't come out for about 20 minutes. And when she did come out she looked pretty green...poor thing. We felt SO bad for her! Her boyfriend came to pick her up, but she was miserable and I know from personal experience there is just no worse feeling than being sick in public...especially when it's like the flu or food poisoning or something. If you're drunk and puking, well, you might deserve it. But when it just hits you and there's nothing you can do, it's always the most miserable and helpless feeling in the world. So, I'm going to call her later today, but I hope she's OK.

The great thing about today is that I FINALLY have an appointment to "take care" of my hair. And by "take care" I mean "HOLY SHIT where did all these gray hairs come from?" Plus I'm buying new running shoes today, and I have to go to Home Depot and find a new bathtub plug thingie since I can't find mine and I have about eleventy billion dollars worth of bath products I bought in Vancouver languishing in my bathrooom, begging me to use them.

Sunday it's my turn to do the Roundup -- if you're got good posts, know of good posts, etc., just email 'em on in!!!

I'm rowing my boat bitch!

I signed up for my rowing classes today. They start in about two weeks and are three times a week for about a month. At the end you are all certified to use the rowing club and equipment that the lessons are at. Ex-Roomie is hopefully taking them with me, but she still has to sign up. I'm really excited because I've always wanted to learn to row. Go me!

I'm looking at bar loans now. Recommendations?

Jazz tonight

Tonight I'm going to a jazz club with one of my very talented law school friends who is a jazz musician (I would say "on the side" but I think it's his true love, so maybe law school is "on the side"). His old piano teacher is playing, and a couple of us are going to get together and eat and watch the show. I'm excited because usually I hang out at pubs and stuff and I rarely get outside my little rut, so this should be really fun.

Aside from that, I have been just hanging around my house reading, eating, drinking Diet Coke, and watching TV...enjoying my spring break. I have to eventually go buy books and get some reading done, and I definitely have some things to do around the house, but I'm putting all that off until the last possible moment. I have an early class three days a week next quarter and I already know I am going to regret the fact that I've been sleeping late every day and staying up until 2am every night. When I have to get up at 6am next week, life is going to SUCK!

Not much else is going on I suppose. I'm just hanging around trying to stay out of trouble and keeping busy.

ACK!!!

OH MY GOD!!!! Russell "I Throw Phones" Crowe's band is on Jay Leno right now and it's SO FREAKING AWFUL. Oh my GOD. It's just so bad. So, so, so bad. Why do actors think they can sing? Why do models think they can act? Why can't everyone stay in their place?? It's SO BAD. I knew I should have just gone to bed immediately after the last post, but NOOOOOOO, I just HAD to check my email. Idiot.

Weird wine thoughts

Tonight I drank a bottle of wine and thought about weird relationship stuff. I was having dinner with a friend, and we got to talking about all sorts of "what if" type scenarios. "What if my ex could be the person I need him to be?" "What if I don't meet someone in time to have kids?" "What if I'm being too eager with the guy I just met and he's not worth it?"

It was fun, and as always, talking with someone else forced me to think outside the box (or the bottle) a little bit. One of the things I ALWAYS do is pursue instead of being pursued, seek approval instead of waiting to see if the other person is worthy of my approval, please instead of waiting to see if I will be pleased. I tend to be so straightforward and so practical that I don't realize the games people play, I never know what I *should* be doing based on modern dating standards, and I guess I just don't understand the rules so I often feel confused and just sort of discombobulated...if you will.

So yeah. I don't have a job, I have dragged out the situation with my ex FAR FAR FAR past it's expiration date even in the face of overwhelming evidence that no matter what it will never work out, and the new guy I just met is giving me a shady feeling that I'm not sure if I can trust or not...but I think maybe I can. I think the only choice at this point is to work on E. Spat and leave all this other shit behind because, as you can see, it's a mess and I just don't think that the constant search for love and approval and affection from others is working for me...after all, it hasn't worked for the past 31 years, right?

I can't remember where I'm going with this. I ate alot of cheese and drank alot of wine and I'm feeling weird and slightly melancholy but also hopeful and amused and insightful and ready and nervous and unsure. I am trying not to call the ex, and every day is a struggle. I stand by the fact that it's much harder to break up with someone when there's no real issue, no ill will, no problem that you can point to and say "AH HA! That's why I hate you!" Instead, it's more like "Eh...you're just not exactly right but I could probably live with you for at least awhile...I'm just not going to, but I could...maybe." And the new guy might be sketchy.

I hope the rowing class has boys. Cute boys. Boys with jobs. Non-sketchy, non-crazy, non-unsuitable boys. Or maybe even some cool girls I could be friends with who would take me places and talk about non-law stuff. Yeah, that would rock.

I'm rambling. I apologize. No more wine. Bedtime.

Where in the world is E. Spat?

Ex-Roomie and I headed up to Vancouver on Monday morning, super-excited to check into our hotel and get some shopping and drinking done. I had gotten us a hotel room on Expedia.com, and we were interested/slightly scared to see what our accomodations would be like. The drive was easy, and the weather was fantastic, so when we got there we were happy to just go straight out and start wandering around.

First, the hotel. It was nice, and the beds were definitely the most comfortable hotel beds I've ever slept on, which is saying something because obviously I've done alot of traveling. It was called the Georgian Court and was located right at the end of Robson Street, which is sort of the main shopping route through the city. It is directly across the street from BC Place Stadium, and is within walking distance of Yaletown, Gastown, Robson Street and Granville Street, although the area between the hotel and Chinatown/Gastown is VERY shady and we were glad we had left for dinner before it got dark.

We spent the entire afternoon shopping on Robson Street. There are tons of boutiques, chain stores, specialty food stores, restaurants and cafes, and both high-end and funkier unique little clothing and jewelry stores. I spent a TON of money at Lush. There's no better way to justify your expensive soap tastes than to convince yourself that you're getting a deal because of the exchange rate. Even though you don't know what the exchange rate is and even if you did you're too math-phobic to figure it out. I also LOVED the MAC store, which was huge, and the salesgirl helped me pick out *literally* the perfect lipstick. We went to a store with probably every different perfume known to mankind, but I forgot the name because my friend spent money there but I didn't. We went into the Sears on Robson to use the restroom and I was thrilled to see that apparently Sears in Canada carried Make Up For Ever, a brand that I buy here at Sephora but definitely isn't carried in American Sears stores (I recently bought the Diamond Powder).

So, after a FULL day of shopping, it was time to eat and drink. During the day we stopped and had lunch on Robson, but I forget the name of the place. It was a chain type place and I thought it was probably the Chili's of Canada, so I didn't bother to keep track. We also got gelato at this little place called Mondo Gelato that was REALLY good. We noticed also that there was a restaurant/bar on Robson called "Shenanigans Bar and Grill" and almost went in, but decided it didn't look good enough to eat at, even for the funny factor.

In the evening, we decided to head over to Gastown, which was SUPPOSEDLY the place where a bunch of bars would be. On a Monday night we knew it wouldn't be super-lively, but we were disappointed to find it was DEAD and also there weren't many bars to be had. We stopped first at a bar called The Irish Heather. It had a fun atmosphere, the bartenders were actually Irish (and very cute), and the beer was good (we both had Harp...so, you know...no surprises there). We decided to skip the food and find a place with a little more variety to eat at so we could both be happy.

We passed several bars but ultimately ended up standing in front of this place, Steamworks Brewing Company. Just based on the name we decided to go in and at least have some more beer, but the menu looked great so we ended up eating there as well. They have a decent selection of their own microbrew, and I have to say that the Cascadia Cream Ale was one of the better beers I've had in a long time. It was so smooth and soft, I felt like I was drinking cream soda or something. It was fantastic. Ex-Roomie had a Nirvana Nut-Brown Ale, and then a Pink Lemonade Martini, both of which she liked. She had lamb tenderloin for dinner, and I had a pasta dish with pan-seared prawns in it.

The waiter at Steamworks was so cute, and we told him how we were on spring break and wanted to go to some bars and with our check he included a list of some fun bars to go to. So, off we went.

First we headed to the Loose Moose. The atmosphere was pretty fun, but I wasn't SO impressed with the selection of beer on tap. Of course, I'm an admitted beer snob, so when I walk into a place that tries to convince me to drink Kokanee, I'm generally not so impressed. I want the best of all worlds, dive bar atmosphere but upscale beer choices. We sat at the bar and the bartender was kind of funny, but kind of obnoxious, and the guys at the bar were, well, very obnoxious, but funny too. One guy was some dude who just finished his master's degree in Sociology and is working in the same field that Ex-Roomie's dad works in, so they talked about that stuff for awhile and he ended up coming to the next bar with us.

After the Loose Moose, we walked across the street to El Furniture Warehouse, a Mexican restaurant/bar that had kind of a strange mixture of clientele and TV's showing skateboarding bloopers. We had with us Harvey of Loose Moose fame, and (for me) a surly disposition. We all got a beer and then Harvey and I proceeded to get into a shouting match about the US Military and American foreign policy. There is probably little that pisses me off more than talking about the military with people who have never been in it. On a theoretical level, obviously, anyone can understand what it's about. But, it's not the same. And, trying to convince me that the military is actually a racist, classist, sexist, horrible, terrible thing is probably not a great idea considering my background. And also if you're Canadian and you have no idea what you're talking about. So, needless to say, Harvey left after his one beer. Thank God.

By the time we finished at Furniture Warehouse, it was time to head back to the hotel. I had REALLY wanted to go to Doolin's Pub, which was across the street, but there just wasn't time.

In the morning, the one thing we wanted to do was go to a crepe place that Ex-Roomie had discovered on her first trip to Vancouver (but which had been closed on Monday, as many places there are). We walked all the way up Robson to Bretagne Crêperie, a really cute little cafe/creperie that had the most fantastic crepes I've had since I went to Paris a few years ago. I had "The Canadian," which had eggs, bacon and cheese. Ex-Roomie had one with ham, cheese, and some kind of sauce in it. Then we split one with sugar and butter. All three together only cost us about $10 Canadian, which is NOTHING for what we got!

On the way back to the hotel, Ex-Roomie stopped at Daniel-Le Chocolat Belge to get her boyfriend a gift, and we had some fantastic chocolate. They make pralines shaped like mice and hedgehogs...so cute.

The very last thing I did was get a "Coke Diete" at 7-11, and we headed back home to the good old US of A.