Go figure – now that I’ve found a nearby source of (fucking amazing) allergy-friendly muffins, I’m obliged to move all the way across the city. So much for equilibrium ever being restored.

I missed last week’s post amidst the moving preparations, but with any luck my scanner will be accessible by next Wednesday, and all should proceed as usual from there.

Here is the unreasonable half of my birthday list. I’m aware that my lists always contain the same stuff over and over (and over) again, but when it comes down to it, there aren’t really very many things that I want. Just things that I want a lot.

I have managed a few upgrades this year, however. Like, why stop at one giant shiny? Make that shit into a whole shiny forest. And also, check out my fantasy adventure island. I feel bad for the real, live human NPCs who have to live in my fantasy town, selling fantasy stuff and giving out quests (I’m lying, I don’t feel bad at all). My sister also compounds for a Treasure Island-style hermit, marooned, with nothing better to do than move buried treasure from one location to another.

My birthday is in less than two weeks, so it’s time for our annual list. This year I’m dividing it into two parts, reasonable and unreasonable, since it always seems to fall naturally into those categories anyway.
So here is my reasonable birthday list. Very reasonable indeed, except maybe for the sunglasses, as the only ones I can ever seem to get interested in are impossibly expensive. Why are cheap sunglasses always terrible? In fact, no, here is my theory: some people just look good in glasses – whatever shitty pair they happen to pick up. And some people (I’m talking about myself, now) look terrible in glasses, and need a really exceptional pair to compensate for that. Which means, realistically, that I live in a squinting, sunglassesless limbo.

I can’t make a proper post happen this week, but I want to point out that I did some illustrations for Inventory Magazine. I’m particularly pleased about this one, partly because it’s a local production, but also because the contents are so perfectly Hchommish. So get a hold of a copy if you can.

This post is mostly for my mum, who was worried that I would “waste away” with all these new food restrictions. Which is frankly hilarious, because as long as I have a more-or-less functioning digestive system, I will be nose-deep in everything tasty I can find – and that is still many things. So here are my daily foods.

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Normally my fantasy living space would be something a little less staid and reasonable. But, for a variety of reasons, Brandon and I are having to look for new apartments, and there’s nothing like sudden nest-insecurity to make a nice, one bedroom unit of moderate size seem like the most appealing thing on earth.

So dear Vancouver, can we make this happen? Plus, I must say, I’ve never had hardwood floors before, and I think it’s time. The bathtub carved out of solid quartz crystal would be a nice touch, but I’m ready to discard that expectation if necessary. Brandon’s bathtub can be perfectly normal, even – he doesn’t care about these things.

Look, Vancouver, I’m the best tenant ever. I’m obsessively tidy, and I write rent cheques a year in advance, and I only practice my shrill wind instruments, like, once or twice a month. You want me! You want me to want you! Do we have an understanding? Two apartments, same building, nice location, decent rent, good flooring. GO.

Plus, dear mum and dad, I will trade you all the old art that you already have stored in your basement for that teak drawer unit. How can I afford to be so generous? Well, what can I say. I’m a giver.

I know my last post was a want list, so really, isn’t it time for an Impossible Jacket or the Spring 2012 line or something? But no, in my personal triage system, this want list is bleeding all over the floor from its gruesomely severed main artery. Which is to say, I’m feeling more than usually petulant and in need of everything that is tasty and awesome and expensive, and the internet at large must know.

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