I almost hulked out of my shirt*

        Just when I thought I couldn't get any more awesome, it happened.  A bunch of my fool friends drove to Vancouver, B.C. on Friday evening for a bachelorette weekend.   I needed a night to decompress because my parents and brother stayed with me last weekend,  and then I flew to the Tri-Cities for work on Thursday.  I was busy okay?  You don't know me.

My Bro and the late great Dave Niehaus (obvi.)

        One of the girls took the Bolt Bus up to Vancouver on Saturday morning, but as one of the surgeons I work with said when I mentioned I was considering joining her, "You don't take the bus."  Duh.  What was I thinking?  We all know the bus is for poor people and hippies.  You should never take the bus unless you are on tour, and your face is on the side of it.

This is an F650 (which I didn't even know existed.)  It is roughly the size of a bus, but is not for poor people or hippies.

        I considered the train.  I do enjoy a good train ride (as long as it's in business class-obvi.)  Then the train got sold out!  BLERG.  Wait for it...this is the part where I get even more awesome.  I frickin' booked a flight on Alaska Air and flew to Canada!  Boom.  It was pretty fancy- and you guys know how I like to be fancy.  The best part is, I also got to take a train.  It went straight from the airport to our hotel.  Nailed it.  

YVR to Vancouver City Center

        I got to our hotel, and changed into my running clothes.  My running buddy and bride to be, Katie, and I took a great spin around Stanley Park- one of my all time favorite runs! It was so beautiful outside, and I was really thankful that I was able to enjoy such fabulous scenery with a good friend.  

Try and tell me this doesn't make you want to lace up your running shoes!

And then we took the next logical step...

Pick your own mustache wine charm- perfect.

        There were mimosas.  There was shopping.  There was food.  It was amaze-balls.

Remember Roots?  It is heaven for people who love sweatshirts and the maple leaf.

        Oh, and there were lumberjacks, but this shouldn't surprise you.  It's Canada.  That's where lumberjacks come from.

Do you see the flannel in the background here? It happened.

       Back to the food.  We ate at a delish Lebanese restaurant called Nuba.  I was a little nervous because there were things on the menu like taboulleh salad and vegan stew.  However the prosecco was flowing,  and the hummus was smooth.  Yum.

Did I mention the prosecco was flowing?

        As per usual, the things I love about Canada stand.  My top two would be that I never worry about getting murdered while I am there, and it doesn't smell like pee.

Two things I don't love:

 1.) Roaming cell phone service makes it hard to keep a group of ten together.

 2.) Middle aged soccer moms who cut you off with no signal and then flip you off (with their kids in   the back seat) when you honk. 

        Rude.  Someone may or may not have shouted, "F@#$ you! We're from America!" in response, but said soccer mom couldn't hear the retort.  Even if she could have heard it, she was too busy trying to kill us with her mind as she zoomed past us at the stop light for these words of wisdom to have made any impact.  Really, it was probably too sophisticated of a statement for her to handle, so it's better she concentrated on giving us the super evil eye as opposed to, you know, concentrating on the ROAD.  Fools exist in every country.  Let that be a lesson to you.  If you have to be outside your motherland, make sure to travel with the fools you love. 

       Also, for the record, only a really good friend would acquiesce to a bride's request for "mug shots" to be taken the morning after a late night on the town.  Come to think of it, I am friends with some serious weirdos.  Yeah, yeah, takes one to know one. You don't have to remind me.

 Hate it.

* The title of this blog is related to a conversation regarding what my super power would be if I could have any super power.  I would have a button that I could push and instantly be 2,000 pounds.  I would stay exactly  the same size, but just be incredibly dense.  I was  trying to explain this highly desirable super power to my dining companions, and demonstrated the face I would make once I pushed my instant 2,000 pounds on.  I was all, "Raaaawr."  Someone who missed my demonstration asked what the other girls were laughing at, so I explained, "I almost hulked out of my shirt just now." I am a supreme weirdo; I know this.