Last Friday night, Shannon galliantly accompanied me to the Ghostland Observatory concert, without even knowing who they were or what their music was about. I got her to agree to go based solely on the power of dancing in this YouTube video:
Nathan has been telling me since Easter that I have to see these guys live, so I did.
The band is comprised of this dude, dancer extraordinaire:
And the Caped Keyboardist:
They were total rock stars. It was basically a Friday night dance party.
When I saw Nathan in Arizona last weekend, he kept saying about Ghostland, "Jenna, you've gotta see them! They have these LASER LIGHTS! I don't know how to explain it!" I just looked at him like, "What, was this your first concert ever? Every show has laser lights! It's called lighting design!" All of that in my attempt to raise an eyebrow.
But when we went to the show, I said, "OoooohhhhHH!!! LASER LIGHTS!!!"
Major laser.
I think the crowd generally had a rockin' good time.
As usual, the bouncer didn't seem to care one way or another.
But I do have to say, it was a fabulous show. Thanks for the recommend, Nate!
Aaah, the good trip home. It's taken me three years to get to this point, but I was excited to go to Arizona for the weekend last Thursday because I hadn't been there in almost a year, and hadn't seen my mom, stepdad, and brothers since April, hadn't seen Kerri since she moved in June, and hadn't seen my Channel 8 friends in almost a year either (and in some cases 3 years).
My cousin Douglas' wedding was a good excuse to fly home and see the peeps. Although Douglas is on my dad's side of the fam, he is close with my younger bro Greg and, by extension, my mom & Tom, so he invited them to the fête as well. That made for some interesting dynamics, let me tell you. Anyway, we got there and Nathan & I sat with Mom & Tom.
Douglas was as serious as ever as he waited for his bride, Austin, to come down the aisle.
Greg, a groomsman, escorted our Grandma Jackie to her seat.
And soon out came Austin, looking for all the world like Mae West with her classic hair, makeup, and dress.
It was just lovely.
Soon the socializing began, with Mom gabbing with Aunt Linda...
...while, of course, the men did their man thang.
.... and the women did their woman thang.
The whole family was involved in the wedding process, as my dad shot video for those two crazy kids.
Later we all enjoyed a delicious art deco cake.
Douglas & Austin looked gorgeous & happy all night.
Don't worry, we fit in some obligatory family photo time.
Nathan took the time to stop and smell the roses (groan!).
And Mom & Tom got romantic on the dance floor.
Of course, no wedding would be complete without some embarrassing dancing!
Soon the time came to accomplish those same old wedding traditions, like throwing the garter...
And catching the bouquet. Which I did, thank you very much. This is a weird photo, but I thought I put a lot less effort into achieving the honor than it looks like.
I thought, "Ha ha, whatever," and tried to give the bouquet to a little girl who wasn't tall enough to catch it. Then the DJ commanded the person who caught the garter to put it on my leg. This was an impossibility - the person is my cousin Christopher. I was like, "Hmmm, let me think about this - NO."
I passed the responsibility down to Austin's friend Rachel, who was well-dressed for just such an occasion.
Yowza!
Nevertheless, my family thought the whole situation was hilarious.
And we ended the night with more dancing.
Congratulations, D&A!
The next day was another anticipated event, as we (on my mom's side) were having our photo taken with Grandma Mickey. We met in a parking lot somewhere in Tempe.
Doesn't Grandma look beautiful?
We took a stroll to a photogenic park and the photog guided us into our positions.
While they were setting up the next shot, I took the opportunity to get a good pic of me and the bros.
While Mom & Aunt Marsha got into some kind of heated debate.
Look at my Grandma. She's the most gorgeous grandma around! I only hope I can age as well as she has.
Later, Greg and I traded fashion advice and shades.
We all had dinner at Riazzi's, our old standby Italian restaurant near my old apartment on Mill Avenue.
Unfortunately, Grandma's lasagna was not up to par. But then again, how can one expect any lasagna to be at the level of her homemade Italian dishes?
Afterward, I went out with my girls. I hadn't seen Kerri in so long, it was lovely to be back with 3/4s of our girlie quartet.
My camera ran out of battery shortly after this, but if Shannon sends me some good pics I'll put 'em up. That night we had a Channel 8 reunion of sorts, and I got to see many folks I haven't seen in months or years, such as Ashley, who is pursuing her Special Ed degree, Carrie and Justin, both in graduate school, and Jim, who just won 3 (count 'em, 3!) Emmys for his work at Channel 8. It was great to see everyone again and catch up. The next day, the girls and I just hung out at Kerri's house, making a late breakfast and watching DVDs. Sometimes that's the best kind of time to have with your friends.
A couple Sundays ago, after 15 hours of traveling (which included a tragically brief, 1-hour layover in Phoenix), I arrived in Vancouver.
I hopped in a cab...
And this is pretty much what I saw for the next 8 days:
My hotel was nice though - I really just enjoy being in a room eight times the size of my own, with my own bathroom, and maid/room services.
And the lovely sitting area.
Here's a better picture through my window on a somewhat sunny day:
I mostly worked all week with Maury and the clients in a post facility that was located in a strip mall. However, one evening I did walk around downtown, on Robson Street.
I saw a well-decorated CD store:
And a thrift shop that had some cool steps.
The best part of the trip was my day at the aquarium. While Maury was rough cutting, he told me to get out of his face and see the town, so I went to the beautiful Vancouver Aquarium. I could really spend days looking at this sort of thing.
All of these bizarre animals we never even think about existing.
And sea turtles!
This weird eel eventually dug itself out of the sand and swam around, and I, amazed at the length of it, remembered the time in my life that I wanted to be an underwater cinematographer or a marine biologist (I couldn't decide which. So I became an editor).
They had animals large...
... and small.
Even tropical birds in a simulated rainforest.
I am pretty sure this is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
This scene looked so still to me, until you get very close up and then you see a thousand things going on, including itsy-bitsy, nearly transparent fish and starfish so thin and wispy they look like spiderwebs strung across the rock. At least I think it was a rock.
Things that look so inanimate or at least plant-like, but are just slow-moving animals.
I watched this starfish move across the glass wall, each tiny tentacle suctioning and unsuctioning itself to move the whole body across, and entangle itself with the arms of another starfish on the other side.
I cannot get enough of sea anemones. They are so gorgeous and delicate and varied, they take my breath away.
Especially these "strawberry" anemones.
Don't even get me started on the jellyfish.
They had examples of each stage of life of the jellyfish, from fertilized egg spores to teeeeeeny tiny li'l jellies, all the way to these full-grown deadly beauties.
I caught the dolphin show from the underground observation window.
... and went to see some cute otters.
And my favorite sea animal of all, the beluga whale.
They had four of them in a gigantic tank, and I watched them swim around for about an hour.
They are so enormous, and so fat and blubbery, but they have the cutest faces and move themselves in this delicate, graceful way that is very calming to watch.
After that, I tried to think of other things that might be fun to do alone in a city, so I went to the top of one of the tallest buildings, the Harbor Centre. To get to the top, you ride in one of those glass elevators on the side of the building.
Right around this part, my stomach dropped and I thought in a panic, "OH MY GOD, why did I do this????? I'm afraid of elevators AND heights!!"
But I made it to the top and got a nice view of The 'Couve.
Later in the week, we drove around town with our clients, past some boats...
Across a bridge...
And got to see the city a little bit more.
The trip went well, business-wise, and I kept it all under control. Success! Although it was wonderful to get a change of scenery for a week, I have to say, I don't love Vancouver nearly as much as all of their own residents do. But then again, many people probably say the same thing as New York.
Now I'm just waitin' for Thursday night, when I get to go home to the big AZ, for family fun, weddings, time with Grandma, and the Channel 8-stravaganza! Not to mention my reunion with 2 out of my 3 best friends.
Today I had the day off from work, before I leave Canada tomorrow, and I am in need of some good black pants. Not only for a family photo being taken with my Grandma next week but also just because every girl needs a good pair of black pants, right? (I learned that on "What Not To Wear.")
Now, I, being of the female persuasion, happen to love shopping. But something funny happens when I go, especially when I am searching for a specific item. As you may know, I am quite comfortable with my body, and I appreciate it and try to take care of it and exercise when I can (or when I feel like it) and normally make it a habit to not let other people (or magazines or society in general) make me feel bad about the way I am. That being said, I have a lot of trouble finding things that fit me properly, as I apparently have very unusual proportions (as in, I am not six feet tall, nor do I have a concave stomach or wear a C-cup).
So, I had nothing else to do today, and no one to do it with, because all of the people I know in The 'Couve (as I've come to call Vancouver) are all on set. Plus it was pouring rain outside so, having grown up in the suburbs, I know there was only one thing to do: go to the mall! Two blocks from my hotel on Robson Street is the Pacific Centre, a rather upscale mall filled with expensive (to me, anyway) stores like BCBG, Guess, MaxMara, Mexx, Banana Republic, and Sears (okay, maybe Sears isn't that upscale). Ironically, half of the stores within the Centre have duplicate shops along Robson Street, many within 4 blocks of the Centre. I'm not sure what the point of this mall is, except to collect all of the shops into a one-stop shopping place for rainy days such as this.
I look on the directory and try to locate the stores I know I'll probably be able to afford. American Eagle it is! They must have black pants, right? So I stroll along towards AE and on my left is a place called Stitches. There seem to be a ton of cute clothes and pants in there, and it seems like a Canadian Old Navy, but a little edgier, as some of their jeans are dark-washed and have red seams. I pop in and start looking for some pants in my size. All I find in a pile of 100 pairs of jeans are size zeros. "What?" I think, "This can't be right." I search and search among dozens of stacks of jeans, thinking maybe the outside labels are wrong, but no. All inside labels say "0", "00", or "zero". By the way, who knew there was a size double zero?? I move on to the slacks, the capris, the corduroys, etc. All say size zero. "Am I in the anorexic twilight zone??" I think. I look around me. Nobody seems abnormally thin. Are Canadian sizes different? For some reason, I continue my search and finally find a size 1. Well, at least we're getting somewhere. I keep sifting and after going through 90% of the store's selection I find a few 3s, one 5, and one 7. I shouldn't have even tried them on, just out of principle, but the pants were really cute, only $25, and I have ALL DAY to kill here so why not?
I am guided into the fitting room and as the door shuts behind me, I realize there is only one hook, no stand to put my purse or own clothes on, and no mirror. Excuse me?? NO MIRROR?? "Where am I??" I mutter. I mean, one of my biggest pet peeves is stores that have no little stands, because who wants to put their stuff on the floor?, but a lack of mirror in the fitting room just goes beyond.
I attempt to put on the first pair of pants (a size 3, which I admit is ambitious, but at Old Navy I'm sometimes a 4, so I threw caution to the wind). I quickly learn that they are skinny jeans, and I am scarcely able to get them up to my waist, the leg areas squeezed in begrudgingly. Fine. I'm not shocked nor shaken to learn that skinny jeans aren't for me (they're not for anybody except Kate Moss). I try the other 3s on just for masochistic fun and it's the same story. I hopefully move on to the size 5. Surprisingly, the waist fits the same (which is to say they don't), the pants are just longer. Well, that doesn't help someone who's 5'4". I peel them off and try on the 7, and when the waist is still corset-tight, the leg hem gathering in bunches past my feet, I angrily put my own, comfortable clothes back on and leave everything sitting on the dusty floor of the fitting room.
I move on, still in search of the American Eagle (shouldn't they call it Canadian Eagle here? Or perhaps Generally North American Eagle?) and stop by Banana Republic. They're definitely more expensive than I prefer, but I do have a 20% Off coupon that I got with my New Yorker Festival tickets (which is this weekend, which I'm missing, so I should get something out of the deal, right?) so I wander in. Their clothes are nice, classic, with clean lines. I figure anything I get here I could wear for a long time. However, all of their pants are high-waisted and look a bit matronly on me, and even the dresses I try on make me look like Jackie O. as a mischievous elfin boy.
The next store I hit has a name that I can't even discern from the flowery font used in its sign (I later find out it's called Aritzia) and upon entering, I am bombarded with pulsating house music and wonder where I put my glowsticks. I peek at the price tag of one pair of pants and, upon seeing $250, leave immediately. It takes all my might to pass up shoe stores with sale signs in them and eventually I arrive at American Eagle. Admittedly I have never bought anything from this store because it all seems a little boring, but I just needed something basic so I thought it'd do the trick. Upon walking in, though, I suddenly became aware of how teenager-y this store is. I never really realized it, but it just smells like high school. Realizing that they only have regular jeans and everything else has "AE" stamped on it in logos large and small, I drearily leave. What's a lady who is no longer a teenager but not yet a money-making matriarch to do?
As I make my way toward Sears in defeat, I come upon The Gap. I stop outside and look at it, a major decision at hand. Can I possibly buy something from The Gap and look at myself in the mirror tomorrow morning? Should I even bother to try, with my track record this afternoon? I sigh and walk in, perusing the pants, still not confident I will find anything. I take some items into the dressing room and begin the battle. Now all of the sizes are even-numbered. The 6s are too big, the 4s too small. Frustratedly, I begin to think I should make good friends with a tailor back in the city. Then, there is one pair of pants that don't fit me too badly, but they are a pinch big. I ask the dressing room clerk to please fetch me the size down, and as I try on the new size, I am surprised to see that these pants are snug but not tight. Fitted but not squeezed. They don't make me look totally stupid. I'm delighted! I look at the tag and do a double-take at the label "Skinny Jeans." Is that even possible?
So, yes, in this land of The 'Couve, where the girls are tiny and they have expensive clothes to match, where most of the stores are chains based in America and each has a duplicate just down the avenue, I bought a pair of jeans. Skinny jeans. At The Gap.
Here I am, folks, broadcasting live from beautiful Vancouver, British Columbia! Well, as lovely as 8 straight days of rain can be. I'm here for work, assisting Maury on a Bank Of America job, and the city is.... hard to describe. It's like an amalgam of all the cities I've been to - Tempe, Austin, Seattle Philadelphia, mayyyyyybe a little New York. The buildings are not in any way ornate or sculptural, rather gray and boxy in a way, but they make for a nice skyline. The coolest building is the Science Center, which looks exactly like Epcot Center, a dome of faceted silver panels, and is lit up beautifully at night. I haven't yet gotten the chance to eat some very good food, except last night's steak, although I don't think I've ever heard anyone say, "I could go for some good Canadian food." I'm not sure what the Canadian specialty is. The people, though, are the most notable part of Vancouver. Everyone is sooooooooo nice, almost overly friendly. Every cab driver I've had here immediately launches into a full comedic routine, followed by a detailed inquisition about my day, my trip so far, etc. Even the salespeople in shops go on and on about their day, the weather, what the weather was like yesterday, and so on. The hotel is your standard business hotel - beautiful, comfortable, packed with extremely cordial employees, and overpriced but good food. Sadly, the TV in my room has no MTV, but there are several French channels and two channels each for CBS, ABC, and NBC. (By the way, has anybody watched "Bionic Woman?" It's absolutely wretched. I laughed hysterically throughout the first episode and last night's was no different. It's the corniest, silliest, most poorly-written and clichèd piece of blah on television. You'd think with their large budget for special effects they'd spring for a decent director, writers, and actors, but apparently that wasn't on the producers' minds. It's a total waste of Katee Sackhoff. But that doesn't mean I haven't watched 2 out of 2 episodes.) But anyway, there are a lot of cool shops and things to do around town, and yesterday I was lucky enough to have the day off while Maury worked on his rough cut, so I went to the aquarium and other landmarks around town. When I get back to the big city, I will blog about them (if I have time with this crazy job o'mine) with photos of gorgeous things like starfish, belugas, and sea anemones.
For now, though, I can only reflect upon how spoiled I am to live in New York City... I realized this as I walked around the shopping district and tried to only shop in places I could never find in New York, and consequently went into only four stores. (By the way, Mom, I still haven't found black pants.) I know I can't make true judgements based on being here for four days, and I know that (as usual) I'm probably being snobby about New York being the greatest city in the world, but I've never been to a place I love as much as New York.
