I managed to come to Canada without anything that resembles a hairbrush or comb.

I hope they sell them here.

Nope, we only used twigs as combs. We don't have any of those newfangled hair brushes.

How's Vancouver? Has anyone sold you pot yet?

Granted, I do have my hair pinned up in back with a binder clip because I forgot a hair clip this morning. Such. A. Geek.

Delightfully dorky.

I hope they sell them here.

Ask a well-groomed Canadian.

Uh, not one of those, but we have some lovely sticks and deer antlers we sometimes use for this combing ritual you folks do. They sell at the Hudson's Bay Store. $29.99 or three muskrat pelts.

I hope they sell them here.

Can't you just wait until your hair freezes in the Vancouver June blizzards and let it break off? Much more efficient in the long run.

I just made the mistake of telling my boss I haven't started my other job yet. He was like, "Why don't you do more hours here, then?" DUDE. He must not have any idea of how little I actually do when I am here. And it's not just that I'm not doing anything, I don't really have anything to do! Two days a week of that is PLENTY.

(You guys do know I was kidding, right?)

I haven't seen much of Vancouver yet, since we came straight to the hotel from the airport. Also, no pot. I think my aunt may have some anyway.

We are going to go exploring after breakfast though.

You guys do know I was kidding, right?

What? ::splutter:: Of course, we have brushes, what do you think this is, blabla!

(yeah)

Of course, we have brushes

They don't, you know. They use the mummified bodies of giant snow ants, hardened by lacquering them with moose spit.

Hooray for Quitation! Go MsBelle!

Woke up at 5:47 this morning to the sound of the BF leaping out of bed and screaming like a babyman. Then he danced around, spluttering. "Look, look, what is that?" Turns out our cat had not only puked up the world's biggest hairball right in between us on the sheet, but had done it as a stealth puke during the night withut waking us. Poor BF had rolled over and his shoulder landed right on it. "Ew, I have cat bile on me" he kept saying. My response was, well, to laugh really really hard at him.

I woke up once to my cat in the processing of hacking up a hair ball--onto the other cat. Said other cat was just staring at my cat with a look of "You're not! You wouldn't dare! Are you puking on me!!??" To which the answer was "Yes."

Now when other cat gives a look of deep, wounded reproach, we call it his "you allowed me to get thrown up on" look.

funny!

it is so disgusting outside, I can't even tell you.