My mum was, but we lived in a really small town. She’s still best friends with my best friend’s mom and my ex-boyfriend’s mom.

It is so much harder. I have really good friends living next door now and it’s practically making me giddy. I want to shout to the world that I have friends and they like me. Ahahaha.

The kindergarten moms were the same when my daughter was in school. Fuck ‘em. They go home with sticks up their butts, I go home to my husband and my kickass neighbours and some quality beers on our front porch.

When assholes like that start talking to me, I put the mute button on and then play some fun song in my…

SAME. They ask every day. I don’t get the appeal.

Also can’t help but wonder if I already know you. Because Prince George.

omg. Let’s meet at Crossroads for a beer some time. Have you been there yet?

I live in the redneck-y city of Prince George, BC and here I think the Prince George Toss is when you dump all your excess trash in the pristine wildlife to avoid paying the two dollar charge at the transfer station.

I’m lol-ing thinking about my husband turning down a lunch meeting with his VP of finance. And I’m lol-ing harder at the thought of me being upset about such a meeting.

Oh, definitely my own. I was 80s/90s and that was definitely amazing.

More than anything, it’s this that leads me to believe we are all totally fucked. The next few years are crucial. The world is dependent on change that isn’t going to happen now. :/

Seriously. I don’t want a thank you card. Just say thank you the next time you see me. Or don’t. I don’t care. But don’t send me more recycling to sort.

We do the same. Although this year I bought him a small gift - an apparent Amazon bestseller book titled “Norwegian Wood: Chopping, Stacking, And Drying Wood The Scandinavian Way”. Yes, it’s a whole book. He loves it.

You can pry my KitchenAid and my Denby from my cold dead hands. I got married pretty young though. We didn’t have things that didn’t used to belong to our grandparents. Our tv was from the 80s and still had my husband’s grandpa’s nursing home label on it.

I wouldn’t even want to live near a coal mine, let alone work in one. My old company had a branch north of here in a coal town. I went up there for a week to do inventory and I was sneezing black dust all day.

Oh, lord. At my old company you had to work ten years to get four weeks. I got to 2.5 before I left to have kids. It was such a bummer. My family is scattered all over the place. I never had time to visit with them. If we took any time to see family, we couldn’t even take a long weekend in the summer for camping. Now…

Yeah, my cousin from Luxembourg will come over here and stay for a month visiting family and she still has plenty vacation to spare. Seems crazy. That said, my husband gets a decent amount of time off now. But if I went back to work I’d be starting from scratch again.

I have to go with long summers because I don’t work and the reason I’m okay with that is the long summers. I don’t think I’d enjoy returning to two weeks off a year.

ETA: Insert obligatory acknowledgment of privilege here.

Is this where I tell you to get off my lawn?

Unless it’s Doug.

It is a very handy work perk, but I don’t use it very often unless I know I’m going to be in Vancouver for something else. It costs about $500 bucks to fly to Vancouver and back. But the tickets are free. Ha. And there’s booze and food.