internet wtf of the week: incessant "lol"ing

I'm not sure what's going on these days for me to be so absent. Maybe it's the fact that as soon as I'm off work, I tend to tunnel-vision getting home, which makes my brain tunnel-vision thoughts as well. Maybe it's because the weather is so Vancouver-esque that I can't help but sleep all the time. Or maybe it's the simple fact that as soon as I get home, weed and television and eating take precedence over everything.

Anyway, regardless, I'm baaaaaack! And I promise that I will not just disappear like that again. Life gets really hectic sometimes.

So, to kick off my return (and to finally give you this week's goods), I am going to rant about today's "internet wtf of the week". Cue applause!

Everyone who knows me personally understands my deep-seeded hatred for internet acronyms (with the exception of "brb", that one seems to be my favourite and I've also somehow used it enough for it to have morphed into a word in my vocabulary). My most hated, in particular, is the eponymous "lol".

Now, I don't really give a shit if you the "lol", it IS 2013 after all and people (including myself) are becoming progressively lazier in that we refuse to use full words to describe how we feel or some kind of action we may have just made. But there's something about "lol"ing which just boils my blood.

I think what it is is not so much the "lol" in and of itself, it's the fact that people use "lol" so fucking much to the point that I want to smash my computer. Are you really laughing THAT much? Like, ALL THE TIME? And do you still "laugh out loud" when it's not appropriate? Because 80% of the time when you inject "lol" in a sentence, it doesn't make very much sense.

So, people of the internet, please stop using "lol" to point where it doesn't even fit it. Especially starting and ending the same sentence with "lol". We got the fucking point the first time you said it.

Try such interjections as "um", "like", "but", or "and" (if those are actually even interjections... I'm just making shit up at this point). Most of the time when you throw "lol" in a sentence, your brain is probably trying to think of words like the those mentioned above, but your fingers are used to "laughing out loud".

STOP IT. Please, for the love of god. It's really fucking annoying. And I know your vocabulary can extend beyond three letters. Sigh.

Happy Friday, errrbody!

(I will be inviting "contributing editors" -- yeah, I know -- to submit any internet rants they may have, so email me at voteshortee@gmail.com if you want to submit a rant cos clearly I like to disappear for long periods of time)

tales from the bong #8

so i came home tonight and reached for the bong and guess what? that shit was already packed! i'm pretty sure it was totally a fluke because i was really stoned last night and packed the bong but obviously just passed out on the couch. but it was still a really dope surprise. WINNING! i think i'm going to make that part of a bedtime ritual -- packing the bong before i send my mind to outer space so, when 24 hours later i am dying to get baked, it's ready to go. lock that one in the vault, lydia.

anyway, today's conversation is about hugs. haha how random and weird and hippie of me to start my post like that, but they are definitely more powerful than you think. observe:


hugs. they can tell you so much about a person. they can give you an idea of how compassionate that person is toward you. they can either be heart-warming or totally fake.

last night i felt like there were hugs all around. when it's been a while since you've seen a huge group of people, you're bound to be saying hello more than verbally. hugs, high-fives, head nods.

the one thing i have a hard time grasping is the fact that, regardless of how people feel about each other, they feel like it's some kind of social grace; that it's almost necessary to hug someone (whether or not it's someone that is close to them or not) when they see them.

not always so, my friends. as much as you would think that your hug is sincere and a gesture of general niceness, people can tell when you're full of shit and just doing it to be "nice".

just a heads up: your hugs are bullshit, and it shows in how intimate your hug is, how long your hug was, and the strength in which you squeezed. if i'm going to receive and genuine and authentic hug, i want it to be legit and i want you make it incredibly apparent.

so next time you're doling out hugs to everyone, maybe give that one person you're not 100% into a pound or something so they don't feel like you're just doing it because it may be the acceptable thing to do in whatever scenario.

hugs can definitely be more vicious that way.

biscuits and graaaavy and everything's crazy

Last night the lightbulb went off in my brain for "highdeas" (you know, those amazing ideas you get when your lazy, thc-filled brain can only think of the easiest, most non-labour-intensive way to make something satisfying for the stoner palette).

I decided to have an impromptu pizza party at my place that turned into copious amounts of conversation, copious amounts of booze, and an unnecessary amount of food and weed. Obviously everything was ingested and good times were had.

My bestie sarah was pretty much at the helm of this ingenious idea when we had a text conversation yesterday. I had replied to one of her texts with the word "gravy", to which she replied back "biscuits and gravy", and naturally my brain added sausage gravy to pizza dough with cheese. And thus the spawn of southern and italian cuisines was introduced to the world.

So sure enough, I decided to go to the store, buy a ridiculously large pack of bratwurst sausages (or if you make your own, that would suffice tenfold!) and some individual-sized pizza crusts and got to work.

Here's a recipe for something that I promise you will never regret everytime you put it into your body (and is so easy to make, you can do this shit in your sleep!).

- 1 pack individual-sized pizza crusts (there should be about 3 or 4 in each pack)
- 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
- half a medium yellow onion, diced finely
- 5 bratwurst sausages, casings removed
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- half teaspoon each garlic powder and onion powder
- 1 heaping tablespoon all-purpose flour
- 1.5 cups milk or half + half
- salt, pepper + paprika to taste

And here's the easiest part, putting it together!

Grab a medium-sized saucepan, turn the heat up to medium-high and once that shit gets hot, dump the oil in there. As soon as THAT gets hot, dump the sausage in the saucepan. Let that shit cook and be sure to smash the sausage up so it looks kinda ground-beefy. Once the sausage is about 80% cooked, throw in the onions and garlic and let cook until they become soft and the rest of the meat is fully cooked.

Once that's done, dump the flour into the mixture and incorporate. Once your mixture has kind of turned into a pasty-looking kinda thing,

Cook out the flour for a couple of min, then add in your milk/half + half. Turn heat up a bit higher and let mixture thicken. Once you've reached a desired consistency, add in your garlic and onion powder and salt and pepper, and you're good to go!

Once the gravy is done, scoop ladles of it onto your pizza crust, and preheat oven to 350F. When it's heated to the proper temperature, throw that shit in there and let it bake for about 20 min. Take it out, sprinkle some parmesan cheese on top and broil for 7 min.

Take out, let cool, smoke a bowl or a joint, and smash the shit back. YOU'RE WELCOME.

internet wtf of the week: bitstrips comics (UGH!)

So today is wednesday, and it feels like a lifetime since I've last shared something really annoying and possibly insightful with the world. Independent reviews of my burger weekend will follow, so don't worry about not hearing me freak out about the best food on earth.

Moving along, since I've been absent for some time, I've decided to fire off my return with a "internet wtf of the week". This week's installment will be about those stupid bitstrips cartoons everyone seems to be posting.

I'm not sure where you've all been for the past, I dunno, 100 years, but this kind of thing could have been achieved by everybody at some point. Its called "drawing". I'm guessing the reason why everyone is so into it all of a sudden is because (ta-da!) we live in a day and age when people are so fucking lazy and are only willing to do something for instant gratification.

That being said, please take note of the following as it applies to all of you bitstrips geeks: your cartoons aren't funny, so let real animators and writers take care of that shit. Also, there is zero similarity your cartoon bears of you, so please stop attempting to make yourself the equivalent of a simcity citizen. Its almost like taking a selfie and then making it into a cartoon. PLEASE, JUST STOP.

For the rest of the world that has their head on kinda straight and aren't going to dive into internet fads quite as quickly, thank you for helping make the world a mildly more productive place by not wasting precious time, energy, and paid resources to vandalize the internet with the most annoying shit possible.

You know what's way funnier? Real photos of you doing the shit you're "doing" in a bitstrip comic. At least then the internet can actually laugh at you.

Happy hump day!

thanks, friends.

this evening's post won't be anything really cerebral (not like anything that i ever write on this blog is even remotely cerebral), it won't be very funny and it won't be anything that jumps off the top of my head.

if you aren't ready for a rant that's pretty real-life and relatively intense and definitely not funny, then you should probably go here. if you are capable of dealing with a serious lydia, then continue on.

tonight i would like to touch on something that isn't exactly the easiest thing to deal with. it definitely beats divorce and getting arrested for insider trading by a thousand on the scale of worst. that thing is loss. "loss" being the people that you met and that made an impact on your life in some way. that person can be your friend, a rad acquaintance, your family, or even someone who you didn't even know that, from afar, changed your life in some way, shape or form.

last evening a massive group of friends lost their friend, a wife lost her husband, and a family lost one of their own. every day this happens and it's such a common occurrence, but it doesn't really quite hit home until it happens to you. in no way am i trying to be a finger-pointing wench, but i feel as though every time i say a permanent goodbye to someone in my life, i get a progressively harder slap in the face waking me up to the reality of how actually temporary (for lack of a better word) life is.

last evening we lost our friend. the situation was really awful, terrible and could have been completely avoided, but alas the universe makes our fateful decisions for us. my heart breaks endlessly to know that the last time i saw this friend was only a couple of weeks ago. him and his beautiful wife (whom i had the pleasure of meeting that evening) came by to visit several friends at the sugarbowl where my friend chris and i were djing.

it's so haunting to know that a situation that was so light at the time would be the last time i would have ever been able to say anything to him. maybe that's why i so firmly believe in never holding grudges, and enjoying life for what it is and to not take anything so seriously. because when you factor things like that, paired with anger, you may sometimes have very regretful final words, whether or not they are directed to anyone. those words will forever burn in your psyche.

so, i guess what i'm trying to accomplish out of this random, rambling, but somewhat coherent rant, is to take a step back and appreciate everyone that enters your life. yeah, of course you're going to run into at least 500 assholes that will essentially ruin your life in some manner (physically, emotionally, financially, etc), but if your mind isn't clouded with anger, stress and endless frustration toward trivial things, then you will learn something from these assholes and eventually capitalize off them SOMEHOW.

but then there are those golden people who make you laugh, whose faces you remember because they were so distinct and so rad -- having those people in your life makes dealing with those 500 assholes worth it. because when you both say what's up, high five, order beers and bullshit for a while, they produce dope memories in your brain. and those are the memories that make you appreciate everyone around you that much more.

so make sure that every time you say "goodbye" and "i love you" to all your friends and family, you mean it, and you say it like you mean it. because you'll never know whether or not that will be the last time.

rest in peace, brennan.

winner winner, hamburger dinner (and a side of high blood pressure)

I've always wondered what it would be like to host some kind of food show, whether it be a cooking show or a show where I just eat everyone's food and talk about how delicious it is between bypass surgeries. Either way, it would be so insane. Easily the best job ever.

I (sporadically) read this blog called "a hamburger today". As you could imagine, the only thing they do is talk about nature's most perfect and delicious food, the hamburger. One of the more major contributing editors to this blog is this guy named george motz.

You thought guy fieri's cholesterol is bordering on unmanageable? George motz crushes him by eating hamburgers across america. And george doesn't share with his crew. That guy will smash back so many hamburgers on his show that you will either be salivating profusely or will never want to look at a hamburger ever again.

Watching this show has rekindled the fire inside me to get down with the special soft spot in my heart (and belly) for ground, formed, grilled meats covered in cheese and condiments, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles + onions and stuffed between two slices of some sort of bread.

That being said, the weekend is officially upon us (well, at 5pm it will be) and I think everyone should make it some kind of mission to go somewhere and have a delicious hamburger. My suggestions to you: next act, red robin (for realz!), sugarbowl and if you feel savvy, make your own (then that means you can violate health codes and eat that shit mid-rare).

I'm going to embark on a personal burger mission this weekend and will be documenting my emotions during each and every tender bite. Stay tuned, and make sure the defibrillator is handy!

tales from the bong #7

ERMAHGERD, IT'S HALLOWEEN!!! my absolute favourite "holiday", aside from the whole reason people love it, which is dressing up. if you don't understand what the fuck i'm talking about, just read the last 4 posts. i'm sure if i bitch about it one more time i'm kicking a dead horse and i'll be forever known as "lydia, the girl who loves halloween but hates it too". not the best moniker to live with for eternity, but it definitely beats "sketchy lydia" and "lydia the lush" by close to infinity.

one thing i will definitely mention again is the fact that i am the biggest nerd for horror movies and paranormal shows (the exceptions being all shows that are ghost hunt-y, those are fucking dumb). i have this really weird sadistic part of me that likes to hear stories about how people got paralyzed with fear. i also really enjoyed being scared.

so anyway, my good friend mindy had lent me a book some time ago. now that i think about it, i should probably give it back cos i've had that shit for a while. i guess at some point during our decade-long plus friendship, we both found serious interest in reading about true crime. not that tom clancy kinda shit, but just straight up biographies of people who were shrink-tested psycho/sociopath serial killers. the thought of even fathoming that there are and were people like this that exist in society is pretty fucked up, but insanely fascinating as well.

this book was called devil in the white city and focused on this dude named h. h. holmes (which is a pseudonym of a pseudonym of a pseudonym of his actual name), this man who was apparently the united states' first serial killer and also possibly jack the ripper, according to some people. this dude slayed so many people during the 1890 chicago's world fair it was fucking insane.

now i'm currently watching a show about it and it's making me realize how fucked up this guy was. this dude had an incinerator in his house and a vault that turned into a gas chamber. oh, and he also went to medical school and knew how to clean and basically butcher a cadaver and sell the skeletons to medical faculties. WHAT!

how on earth does anyone have a twisted mind like that? why doesn't anyone make a horror movie that's "loosely based" on something like that? why are all the worst, most embellished horror movies "loosely based" on a story that could potentially be something super dope on screen?

halloween, i love you but you continually disappoint me. mostly because hollywood blows at making a rad horror flick. maybe i'll start enjoying dressing up more for halloween these days.

tales from the bong #6

halloween. i'm sure you all know my feelings regarding this north american-butchered pseudo holiday. i, for some reason, really dislike dressing up. i don't know what it is, and it's definitely nothing that has become more serious with age, but i've just never been into it. however, everything else about it is pretty fucking cool.

one of my absolute favourites in the world are horror movies. and whore horror movies. last night during our sampling of the new arcade fire album, i asked everyone what their most all-time favourite horror movie ever was. and the results were really interesting.

we got "the shining", for obvious reasons. my personal favourite is "the exorcist", which to this day still scares the living shit out of me. i think i may have heard "paranormal activity" and "blair witch project" as well, which are also definitely very valid as well, because both of those movies really scared the shit out of me the first time i watched them, and then realized that that shit wasn't for real. waaamp waaamp.

i think the reason why these types of movies scare us is because all of that can actually happen, or seem realistic and probable enough to possibly happy to someone, somewhere, at some point in time. all this "final destination" and "saw (insert number here)" bullshit is so fucking annoying because it's just gory and twisted and weird. "the human centipede"? are you fucking kidding me? i think serial killers watch and grow up on shit like that. no one should be allowed to watch that garbage. new millennium horror movies blow.

but let's talk about "the exorcist" for a second. if you can watch that movie and not be even remotely creeped out, you are a vampire or something. i am approaching my 30s and i still can't watch that movie alone by myself. i'm pretty sure i've seen that movie about 30 times and i still have to pause it like 5 times throughout. (maybe the secret is to take more bong hits?)

if you're going to watch any horror movie, you need to watch something foreign. japanese, korean, or chinese horror movies are the best and i promise you will be haunted by slanty eyes in your dreams for a while.

now i'm just rambling.

what's your favourite horror movie? please post below, i'm actually very genuinely interested!

internet wtf of the week: selfies

Today's "internet wtf of the week" are selfies.

We all know what they are. And if you try and say that you've never taken a selfie, I might have to retort and say that there's a very slim chance that I believe you. I actually think it may have made it into the oxford dictionary as an actual word. Nothing is sacred anymore.

So just a couple of housekeeping items involving taking selfies, for those of you who may need a little bit of fine-tuning in that area. First of all, let's try our best to keep the shower curtain out of the photo, or the messy room reflecting in the mirror. Nobody wants to know you took the easy way out and decided to stand in front of a mirror to take a photo of yourself. The number one strategy is to try and make the selfie look like a pro shot, so people will oooh and aaah and not make memes out of your photo instead.

The second rule to selfies is you cannot, by any means necessary, have any part of your arm showing in the photo. I know, some of you guys have "angles" and need to hold the camera above you to avoid looking like you have 3 chins. But there are definitely ways to create a pretty decent photo without looking like you're trying to take an aerial photo of yourself and all the shit that's all over your living room floor.

And finally, the last rule to selfies is try your best to ask people to take photos of you. Candid photos are always the most beautiful and sincere, and also the most hilarious. If you really, absolutely, NEED to take a selfie, then buy a mac and use photo booth, or some kinda webcam shit. It'll slow down the likelihood that your photo will become a meme.

Also, duckfaces in selfies. Sorry (actually, just kidding, NOT SORRY) ladies, but it doesn't matter what kind of setting you're in, it makes you look like a complete idiot. If you know what's good for yourself, take a second look at your photo and try your best not to barf.

Happy internetting everyone :)

tales from the bong #5

i just came home from the most lovely evening at my friends' house. we drank wine, took hits from the volcano, and listened to the new arcade fire album (which, by the way, is pretty fucking amazing). the saddest part of this entire story is the fact that my radiator fluid-less car was right out front, playing a sad violin tune.

so i had three choices for methods of getting home -- walking, calling a cab, or asking for a ride. i'm over asking for rides cos i feel like such a needy asshole, and walking is totally out of the question cos it's 1 in the morning right now, so obviously the only option was to call a cab. while we were adjusting the mood lighting during the impromptu arcade fire album release/volcano party, i decided to yelp co-op taxi here in edmonton.

i remember one time when i was in new york city, hanging out with one of my friends. he took me on an adventure to the post office in the east village and told me that his way of killing time in the most depressing building in the state of new york was to read yelp reviews of the post office. we stood in line for 45 minutes in this soviet-esque building with the most cold war propaganda-style mural paintings surrounding us. we read probably about 10 yelp reviews with descriptions like "this is the mouth of hell", "this is the darkest place for any soul", etc. pretty sad and hilarious shit. and when we finally got to the window, the lady wouldn't give him the parcel because his name didn't match the name on the package. worst.

anyway, i yelped co-op taxi and it got east village post office reviews. so i yelped yellow cab. much better. i called the cab. he shows up... and then continues to drive down the block. i walk to the taxi and then proceeded to give the guy directions to my house. it seems so strange to me that i end up giving cab drivers directions pretty much every time i take one, and i live downtown.

so really, both co-op and yellow cab are shitty. why does any form of public transportation in edmonton suck so bad? car withdrawals are the worst right now.

the end.

happy halloween from the peanut gallery

My good friend jermaine I and really enjoy watching movies together these days. It seems as though when the first snowfall occurs, everyone is entering hibernation mode and staying in. That, and the fact that I still haven't gotten my car fixed yet, seem to make me really dread being outside unless I absolutuely have to, or if the sun is at least shining.

I've been on this tip lately where I'm going to watch one or two horror movies each day leading up until halloween. I actually really dislike the "dressing up" part of halloween because it always seems to be every girl's excuse to be a slutty something. Slutty dead bride, slutty nurse, slutty hashtags. Grow up girls, it's 2013. Being slutty does not equal cool, it equals venereal diseases, so go as something hilarious. Everything else about halloween -- the haunted houses, horror movie marathons and generally just scaring the shit out of people -- is quite alright.

Anyway, jermaine and I. As you all know, I really enjoy indulging myself with the bong on a daily basis, so obviously this was highly necessary (pun intended). I had watched half of "the conjuring" at another friend's house not too long ago and had to cut out because I was way too scared and way too stoned. I decided that sunday was the day to give it another shot, took 5 massive bong rips, and then rented the movie on shaw on demand.

Then I realized something. I only get really afraid if I smoke a tiny bit of weed, but as soon as I get into bong hits, I'm not terrified anymore, I'm actually just very judgmental of peoples' acting. Not too sure why that is, and this definitely isn't the first time I've done this, but it makes watching movies really difficult for me because I can never really fully enjoy them. I'm too concerned with the quality of the acting instead.

That being said, perhaps it would be a good idea for the panel of film judges from the academy awards to hire me to scrutinize each year's nominees. No one would win; sponge bob would probably take it. I am the biggest couch peanut gallery.

So the moral to today's rant is: don't smoke weed before movies cos it might make you hate it (somehow it will ruin something if what you're watching is not a comedy) and stop dressing up like sluts.

Happy halloween!

the best advice is to take your own advice.

I feel as though 24 hours is literally never enough hours in a single day and that a full day should consist of at least 28 hours. I'm sure, that, with a longer day would come a much longer work day, but to be totally honest, I think I would be okay with that. 

The advancement of technology has left us in a position where we have collectively forgotten about how to enjoy life in the simplest form. When was the last time you said "I'm not busy", or "yeah, no problem, take your time"? Probably a while ago.

Maybe its because I've gotten myself into so many ridiculous predicaments lately that I feel like I'm digging myself into an endless grave of shit to do in life. Whatever the case is, I think it is imperative (for your own sanity and everyone else's) to take back sundays.

There should always be a day in your week where you stop giving a shit about what needs to be done and cool out. I know that sounds almost impossible, but with enough determination and giving zero fucks, you can restore normalcy in your hectic life.

...says me while I write this as I'm djing. fuck.

tales from the bong #4

i'm watching this show right now about serial killers. they are interviewing this lady and she was describing the town that she lived in as a "good place to work". WHAT THE FUCK? how is a that even a criteria for an area that you would choose to ride out a mortgage in? that's some weirdo shit. hence why she's a serial killer, i guess.

shout out!

yo, a massive shout out to indonesia, who is in third place on my blog views list by country!

thanks for being bored and slightly interested in my stoner brain, and thanks for introducing nasi goreng to the white folk out in the prairies. from asian to asian, i thank you.

a thousand bows.

tales from the bong #3

i just got back from a show. i haven't been to a show in many, many years. and i'm also, for some reason, watching "just shoot me" on tv and it's hair-pullingly distracting. the remote seems so far right now.

so anyway, yeah. i just got back from a show. and i must be some aging raver or something, because not hearing some kind of computer-generated and mastered (aka live) music seemed way less scarring on my ears. 

i'm a firm believer in respecting and understanding where your food comes from. if you're really enjoying that mcdonald's that you're eating, then you should at least have a glimpse of how that delicious, hangover-curing phenom came to be so you could make it through the day after $4 pint night. no bitching or finger-pointing going down here, and definitely not judging, just wanting everyone to understand that your daily sustenance came from something alive.

that's kind of like how today's show was for me. it made me really appreciate and respect and really understand again how good music is made. sometimes you need to visually take in all the components of a band to be able to actually dissect and absorb every different layer of a song.

and when you appreciate every layer as its own and as a whole, that shit can be as mind-blowing as a two cheeseburger meal after a heavy night.

ps: check out the nulls, they're dope. like cheeseburgers.

round up the gays, we're going to war!

Last night I was watching this show on the history network called "how sex changed the world". I'm a bit of an information junkie and much prefer watching shows about space and conspiracy theories rather than reality tv.

At some point during this show they told a story about this elite group of warriors that fought in ancient greece from 378 bc - 338 bc. This was literally a small army of about 100 men. These guys were virtually undefeated for the 40 years that they were all partners in military crime.

The name of this army was called the sacred band of thebes.

Like with all warriors, these men trained to fight. They were extremely proud of where they came from and would fight to the death to protect it and also to aid in the advancement of their army and city. These guys were MEN men.

However, there was one particular "thing" about this army that assisted in their seemingly endless victories in battle. That "thing" was that it was mandatory for all warriors in the sacred band of thebes to have a partner, or lover if you will, within their troops. Basically, they were all gay.

Now it didn't just work out that way, and not everyone was completely lost in their sexual orientation back then. It was actually all very deliberate. I guess the school of thought back in ancient times (which still makes 100% sense today) was that, if we have a band of men who are lovers go into battle together, they are willing to fight much harder and aggressively so they do not have endure the pain and sadness of 

seeing their soulmate go down.

Sounds ingenious, doesn't it? And to think that this was an idea that was manifested and put into action BEFORE jesus christ. 

So let's take a step back and do the math for a second. Open homosexuality in the military before christ, no problem. Homosexuality in virtually anything after christ, a massive problem. However, based on historical documentation, homosexuality proved to be one of ancient greece's secret weapons.

In times like today where the threat of a nuclear holocaust seems like a daily occurrence, it seems to me that the only logical way to win any battle is with tolerance.

So for those of you who are so quick to judge and hotheaded, try being indiscriminate for once. You'll find that it does wonders for both your mind and body.

tales from the bong #2

i've decided to start a series of short brain farts called "tales from the bong". these are those ADD thoughts that synapse through my head that are only really part of my memory for maybe 20 minutes.

today's thought is about social media. it can be so annoying at times when people misuse it as a diary or an outlet to post countless duckface selfies. however, when you're stuck it's a really good tool to abuse to see how if there are any potential friends that can help bail you out. i know this sounds so "OBVS!", but for some reason today i'm really pumped about social media.

there was that time when i dropped my car keys down the elevator shaft one morning. and then there's this time when i got into a car accident. both incidents were fucking tragic at the time (and now i'm realizing that maybe i should just not own a car). both times i put my plea through on facebook. and both times, the same friend came through to help me. what are the chances that the friend who is an elevator repair man also has a journeyman's ticket in auto mechanics? fist pump.

so thank you, social media, for coming to the rescue. it's almost worth looking at all the bathroom selfies in exchange for help during times like these.

tales from the bong #1

so my two good friends (both of whose names happen to be chris) and i are outside on the balcony, smoking, and looking at the moon. that was probably the weirdest way to start a story. how "twilight" of me. haha! anyway, while looking at the moon, i realized that it had a potato kind of shape. but it was so clear everywhere in the sky. how is that possible? there's only one answer: aliens.

also: camel crushers from mexico are far superior to camel crushers from america.

it's crock pot season!

and we all know what that means...

delicious food waiting for us when we get home from work, and we didn't even burn the house down!

the crock pot is like the holy grail of lazy kitchen appliances. i'm definitely not shit-talking its effectiveness, but i'm still struggling to figure out why more people don't own them. they're cheap, they make life 1000x easier, and they make even the most kitchen-illiterate person seem like an amazing cook. that's because the secret to delicious food is time. 

one of my absolute all-time favourite crock-pot recipes is one that mom used to always make (obviously). braised short ribs with carrots, onions, tomatoes, and egg noodles. i don't know what it is that she puts in there, because she has given me the recipe countless times, but i feel like i can never replicate the shit my mom makes. two words: next level.

i'm not one to really use measurements in recipes, but i'm going to try my best with this one.

- 3 lbs short ribs (bone in)
- 1 medium yellow onion, coarsely chopped
- 1 large carrot, peeled and coarsely chopped
- 2 cups water
- 1/3 cup ketchup
- 1/4 cup soy sauce
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 Tbsp flour or corn starch
- 2 Tbsp vegetable oil
- salt + pepper to taste
- 4 cups egg noodles, cooked al dente

now here's the easy part -- the part where the crock pot takes care of business for you while you slave away in front of a computer for 8 hours.

put oil in skillet over medium high heat and quickly sear all short ribs, about 2 minutes each side. set aside.

combine all ingredients (except flour/corn starch and egg noodles) into a slower cooker. adjust quantities based on how much room your slow cooker has. turn that shit on low, walk out the door, and forget about it until you get home and get slapped in the face with the most delicious scent of all time. and you know what? you've earned this.

turn off the crock pot and do your best to try and scoop out the layer of delicious beef fat sitting on top of your creation (i'm literally drooling as i type this, but in all, be careful not to burn yourself doing this). if you are more cautious than i am, and can actually wait to eat your food, then let the slow cooker cool down, throw the short ribs & marinade in the fridge overnight and scoop out the floating icebergs of fat.

once the fat has been separated, put it into a separate saucepan and turn heat on medium low. add flour/corn starch into fat in small amounts, making sure to continually stir or whisk it. basically what you want out of this is some sort of roux to thicken the remaining fatless marinade. once the fat + flour mixture becomes a doughy-looking paste, turn up the heat and start adding in tiny ladles full of the remaining marinade. do this a couple of times and then take the entire roux and dump it into the short ribs. you want to ensure that the short ribs are still relatively warm when doing this.

once your sauce has been thickened completely and to your liking (you may have to adjust the flour/corn starch ratio for this), season the stew to taste and ladle massive scoops of it on top of freshly-boiled, al dente egg noodles.

let cool, and then proceed to stuff your face until you fall into a food coma.

your finished meal should look something like the photo above, however there's a pretty good chance you won't really have much time to actually appreciate the aesthetic food-porniness of it because you'll want to inhale it.

sidenote: this meal is best enjoyed with a shit ton of cayenne pepper or crushed red pepper flakes as a seasoning. also, a nice malbec or carmenere won't hurt either.

bon appetit, mes amis!

#really?

If you know me personally (which, I'm sure most of you do), then you would understand my really weird detachment to modern technology and music. For some strange reason I am so behind on everything. Example: I just started a blog. Very recently. Yeah, exactly. Welcome to 2013, lydia.

Anyway, although I am not really completely out of the loop, there are a lot of trending (oooh, I used an internet word!) things that I just don't agree with. Today's "internet wtf of the 21st century" are hashtags.

Its not like I'm so MIA from the world that I don't understand their intentions and usefulness, but have you looked at the way people type shit out with hashtags?

In the photo that you hashtagged 1000 times, you could have written a small paragraph describing your photo. And #it #could've #been #way #less #annoying #to #read.

Or how about twitter-style hashtagging, where people write full sentences after their hashtags? #icantfuckingreadanythingwithoutspaces. And really, are people ACTUALLY running hashtag searches that long and specific? It all seems so ridiculous to me.

Modern technology has become so easy and so convenient that I think we've really just become lazy. When you are actually verbalizing "brb" at work to tell your coworkers that you'll be right back, that's the internet #winning in your life.

Hashtags seem like the ironic moustache craze of hipsterism, circa 2007. Everyone feels the need to use one, but its really all so unnecessary.

#thoughts?

one day, this will happen to me.

numero uno

I've decided to christen my blog with a first post that isn't exactly a complete rant, but rather a nice story that has a moral behind it that could possibly be misconstrued as a lydia-type megarant.

This story begins on a thursday evening. I started this interesting journey (strangely enough) at fort edmonton park. For those of you who are completely unaware as to what that is, its a heritage site in the city that is tucked beneath a freeway overpass. Its also insanely creepy. 

I was there for a work function and took off as soon as we had finished all our necessary teamwork building. I made may way through the creepy park which, at this point, was a literal ghost town and I was actually beginning to feel kind of afraid. My intention was to stop by a friend's show, say hi, and go home to my warm bed.

Instead, what happened was pretty interesting, to say the least. I ended up getting into a mild fender-bender on the way to my friend's show and it was at this point when the realization of the shittiness of the situation was fully about to sink in as soon as we had pulled over and I was rummaging through my glove box to find all my documents to exchange info.

Since the whole accident was 100% due to my negligence, I of course exited my car and was incredibly apologetic. Nine times out of ten this type of incident results in at the worst, rage, and at the very least, fake acceptance. However, this gentleman was actually genuine in that he told me that it was totally okay and that accidents are accidents for a reason -- because they are completely unintentional.

He even went as far as to inform me that my car was leaking something vicious and that I should probably find a place to leave it before it stalls in the middle of the road. Not only did he offer me correct and useful advice, but he also topped off the mysterious (and necessary) fluid that was oozing out of my car and then followed me to my friend's house where I proceeded to abandon my car. Sad face.

I felt like I had to make it up to this person in some way for being so understanding and compassionate. This kind of thing never happens in real life and I felt I needed to express my gratitude. So I asked him what he was doing at that moment. He surprisingly said he wasn't busy, so I asked him if I could take him out for a beer. And since I had already had prior engagements with a friend, this was going to work out swimmingly.

So we show up at the empress (a local watering hole), purchase a round of shots and beers, shake hands with friends, make new friends, and proceeded to have amazing conversation. I learned that my new friend had moved here 8 years ago from bc, was in graphic design, and lived really close to where I work. I know it doesn't seem like a lot of information given the amount of time we hung out, but beers can make you forget things.

To top off the night, my new buddy so kindly asked if I needed a ride home. I obviously took him up on his offer, and since then, a chance occurrence that would usually enrage and stress people out turned into making a new friend.

So, in case you were unable to pick up on the obvious moral of this story, its that there is really no real reason to be so upset over such trivial things. Life is too short to give such a massive shit about minor things like why boys are ignoring you, or why your hair looks gross or why you decided to smash back a five guys burger before you squeezed into your bridesmaid dress.

People are inherently nice and mean well. If everyone just took a step back to chill the fuck out and not take life so seriously all the time, we would look forward to getting into accidents.

That's my $1.