“Police arrested two kids yesterday, one was drinking battery acid, the other was eating fireworks. They charged one and let the other one off.”

Our friends John and Mayumi are visiting from England so we've had to put on our thinking caps about how to impress the newest visitors to our city. Enter the Celebration of Light, Vancouver's own fierce "competition" between three rival firestarters: Spain, Canada and China.

The great thing about these fireworks is that they last a half hour, are set off from a barge in the very central English Bay beach and can be seen from any one of Van's bazillion other beaches and viewpoints. And so, like dutiful non-drinking, non-partying-on-Saturday-night citizens, the whole city of Vanhattan flocks to a beach, a lookout, a bridge (you can see all from any one of our three bridges) or their front porch to watch the display.Saturday night was Canada's turn to get lit up...so it was handy that our best mates Beth and Simon invited us to their place for the festivities - right across the street from Point Grey's lookout point - a patch of grass with a view of the straight, the city and a skyful of mountains.

So after pouring all our beer into glasses, a bunch of us trundled over, plonked down our mats and joined the community for a bit of drinking under the lights.
Cue half-an-hour twinkly stars, "oohs" and "ahhs" (as you do) and commentary from our party that Canada should have ditched the big band jazz theme and gone for an all-out big bang by letting off ALL of their fireworks with one match and playing one note from the 1812 overture.

One second after grand finale (which, in my estimation, was more a whimper than a bang), the throng picked up and left, and we trundled back for more beer.

China - who invented the firework apparently - show off on Wednesday. We plan on checking out the action (we'll also be joined by our crazy mate Al who arrives Tuesday) from a different beach for variety. We'll keep you posted on whether they kick Canada's ass - Dan's expecting them to trot out some top secret uber firework that has been under lock-and-key for centuries.

I'm expecting one in the shape of a noodle box. We'll let you know.

Blo Me

So, what's a girl to do on a Tuesday night when her husband is working until 10pm and she doesn't have any cable TV at home?

Go Blo!

So, was invited to my first industry 'do tonight by my lovely colleague Joy. We gathered to celebrate the launch of the (clears throat) genre-bending "blow-dry only" salon BLO . Yup, it's a salon where they wash and style your hair. That's it. No cuts, no colour. Just hot air.

And you know, in Yaletown, that could actually fly.

Anywayyyy, their digs are near our digs and their marketing guy is the lovely Val from the social activism group Extreme Kindness who's friends with Joy...and whom I have no doubt influenced the Blo team to incorporate a charity element into the shindig, which was, conveniently, held at George (where I met Hot Guy).

Thus, a group of us girls found ourselves rubbing shoulders with Vancouver's finest airheads, all blown within an inch of their lives. But a good cause is a good cause (this one for Breast Cancer research), and so I, Queen Blackofheart, put on her pink trousers and shoes to fit in with the dress code. Yes, pink.

Highlights included George's fab pink lemonady mojito, the tiny pink cupcakes (with black "Blo" written on it in sprinkles) that had each been made by a mum of one of the Blo staff, and the three bites of tuna tartare I had, courtesy of the restaurant I practically live in, Glowbal.
Okay, so it wasn't a London media event (I half expected Jade Goody to show up) but it was good for a laugh. And I did see a guy who was the spitting image of Tom Selleck. Oh and one other highlight: we stood next to Trevor Linden - another hockey great from the Vancouver Canucks who does his own bit for cancer research when he's not busy being an Iceman.

Which brings my tally of meeting/seeing hockey's most fab players, to two... in under a month! Anybody else think this is weird? In Toronto, I had my own Fantasy Hockey league (comprised mostly of defencemen and goalies, oh and Linden) and I watched these guys on TV. But here, I've got no TV but I'm rubbing shoulders with Linden and Gretzky? Wha happen?

Is it just me or are the planets conspiring to make me properly Canadian again?

Frack me!

It's Friday night, I'm at a work 'do at our local, new and exceedingly sexy cocktail joint, George. I'm heading back from the loos and my GroupieDar (TM) goes off in my head as I pass this quiet table of four. I do a quick doubletake at a very, very hot man and waltz back to my editors and colleagues.

"F*cking hell, Joy" I say to my friend/editor. "There's a guy over there who's on one of my fave shows. I know it, I just can't place it immediately." For about 30 seconds I think it's Kyan from Queer Eye... ...but this doesn't really sit right in my brain. So while I'm fretting, our new PR and marketing guy Christopher (a smooth operator himself), gets in on the action, saunters over for a subtle peek and comes back and utters two words that make my (nerdy) head implode.

"Battlestar Galactica".

(SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen to the end of Series 3, you may want to stop reading now).

Three strong cocktails in and the planets literally align. It's HOT GUY! THE ONE WHO'S MARRIED TO STARBUCK! SAM ANDERS! THE ONE WHO I ALWAYS CHEER FOR BECAUSE HE'S WAY DIRTIER THAN APOLLO...and the one Dan likes to hate because I fancy the pants off of him. D'yer think I can remember his name? Of course not. So Christopher goes to me: "I'm going to go over and say hello". And I say, "Oh NO! You're not going to be that kind of dick are you? I mean, I've interviewed and met some huge stars but I don't like to go over and interrupt their nights out. Besides, I don't have a good opening salvo..."

Christopher simply says: "Those guys are on smaller TV shows. They LOVE the attention. I'll be polite and go round", and off he trundles. "I HATE YOU" I mouth to him, not-so-secretly pissed off that he had more cojones than I.

He comes back and tells me Michael (Trucco - for that is said Hot Guy's name) is the nicest man on earth, his friends didn't mind being interrupted and I should go over. Uncharacteristically, I demur. Until Joy says: "Mikala, you waltzed up to Liev Schrieber in New York, and besides, this will be a GREAT story for Dan at dinner."

I still demur, wondering which shy and retiring alien race has kidnapped my body.

Christopher practically grabs me by the collar and frogmarches me over there when sees that the quandary is practically eating at my cells.

I am mortified. "My god," I say, apologizing to his table first. "I am SO sorry to interrupt your night out." Girl next to Hot Guy laughs and says "Don't worry about it!". Michael leans in with a grin that melted the souls of my shoes, asks me my name and goes to shake my hand. I blurt "I am such a massive Battlestar fan".

Lord, I've now been kidnapped and taken to the planet TIT. Bless him, he trots out his best "appease the geek" line and says "no, honestly, that's so sweet of you. Without you guys watching we wouldn't have gotten this far"....

We chitchat (no, I didn't ask him if he's really a frackin' Cylon or what the deal with Starbuck is or if he could take me to Caprica, as it were, as I was literally shaking from being caught off guard and being marched over). I do ask him what he was doing up here - that I knew they'd filmed here but wasn't Season 4 finished yet? Nope, he says, they're still filming and did I know it was their last season? "Yup," I say, "So horrible. My life will be a much more depressing place once the show's gone."

Now the kidnappers have taken my body from Planet TIT to Planet Trek Convention and my body has been firmly anally probed. I am one breath away from uttering "Live Long and Prosper". I feel I am losing cool cred and gaining a pocket protector.

Meanwhile, Christopher's pulling out his phone and asks if he can take a photo of Michael WITH ME. I die a thousand deaths and wonder if I could somehow regain composure and coolness but realize that moment left when I first opened my mouth to speak to him.But lo, Michael's a saint, clears off his coat from the bench, scoots over, pats the seat and puts his arm around me. "Hmm, it's going to be a bit dark" says Christopher, so Hot Guy leans over and grabs the nearby candle. Awesome. He really is a dude. He may be a goddamn toaster, but I wouldn't kick him out of bed for dropping crumbs...

A Nice Day for Technicolour Wedding

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Happy Canada Day, Eh!

Howdy, All. Please join me in wishing the land of Canada a happy 140th birthday.

Yes, the 1st of July is, of course, Canada Day. "But, Dan, what does Canada Day entail?" I hear you ask. "Were there moose-shaped piñatas filled with Maple candy? Or strippers dressed as Mounties?" Well, my friends, read on and find out...

We decided to celebrate this awesome country by taking in one of its national parks. Mikala, Ninna and myself hopped in the Batmobile and, after a short drive arrived at Lynn Valley Park, which is an extraordinarily beautiful stretch of forest and, if the papers are to be believed, one of Canada's top ten most dangerous parks (apparently this has something to do with people getting drunk and jumping of waterfalls like lemmings - not bear attacks, or beaver maulings, thank Christ).

The entry to Lynn Valley is accessed via what can only be described as an exceedingly wonky rope-bridge. Anyone who has seen Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom will appreciate why I am looking slightly apprehensive. The hundreds of like-minded Canadians tramping up and down behind me didn't help either.


After the bridge it was, fortunately, all down-hill. Apart from the bits that were up-hill but the scenery was worth the grind. Check out the photos below...

A nice river - a bit too shallow for people to jump in but we popped our shoes off and went for a waddle. Whilst the weather may have been lovely and hot, the water was bloody freezing.

You won't be able to spot me in this picture - I am putting my SAS training to good use and blending in with the natural foliage.

A maple tree!

Me and the wife. Nice.

Oh... and what trip to the great outdoors would be complete without Dr. Doolittle going ape-shit every time we walked past something that rustled?

Ooooooh - a caterpillar!

Once we'd explored Lynn Valley we jetted off to investigate Deep Cove. Now this may sound like something out of Pirates of The Caribbean, ful of mystery and smugglers' lore but in actual fact is a failry shit village on the coast. We had crap sushi and left.

Hang on... Did I forget to mention we bumped into WAYNE GRETZKY!?!?!?!

What do you mean you've never heard of him? He's only Canada's most famous hockey player ever. Let me put this into context: bumping into Wayne "The Great One" Gretzky on Canada Day would be the Canadian equivalent of bumping into David Beckham on St George's Day (only not quite as gay). Mikala stalked him out onto the pier, where he was waiting to be ferried over to his yacht, shook him by the hand and wished him a happy Canada Day. Needless to say, she was ecstatic.

The only reason I knew who he was is because Vince Vaughn talked about making his head bleed in Swingers.


After that we went home, got juiced up on some good old Canadian beer, enjoyed a nice barbecue (the fourth one this week) and then wandered to the hill round the corner to watch all the firework displays without having to pay. All in all, not a bad day, eh?

x

Dan.