Massachusetts – the State so nice, I’m going there twice!

(FYI for the Canadian readers- apparently residents of Massachusetts are often referred to as “Massholes”.  Not sure if this is derogatory or not.  My apologies if it is.)

You may remember my super awesome whirlwind trip to Boston & The Cape back in July when this happened;

(Monique, Jessalyn, Kate and me)

And this . . .

(me, CHELSEA HANDLER!, Jess & SurferWife – notice how tightly Chelsea’s hugging me?! Just sayin’)

And this . . .

(yep – me & Heather McDonald!)

Well, I’m heading to Boston again – today!  This afternoon in fact.  But sadly, there will be no blogger meet-up this time.  Nor will there be backstage fun and craziness with Chelsea or Heather McDonald.

Instead I’ll be flying down with my BFF Elle to meet up with another Canadian girlfriend who relocated to just out south of Boston a couple years ago.  This trip will include;

• some much needed girl time
• some equally needed relaxing
• LOTS of shopping.  The Canadian dollar has been kicking some US dollar’s ass lately so I’ll be getting good bang for my shopping buck  (woo hoo for that!) and I’m in desperate need of some new Fall/Winter clothes
• lots of eating – we’re 3 girls who love our grub
• fancy, fruity, girlie drinks

There is one more component to this quickie 3 day trip, however.  Our friend in Boston has spent the summer getting her private pilot’s license.  Yes – as in – to fly a plane.  A very, very, small plane.  A plane you can basically compare to a Mini Cooper with wings.  There’s only 4 seats.  And the front two lift forward to let the passengers in the back.  Elle & I will be the nauseous one’s experiencing cardiac arrest passengers in the back.

And if that isn’t bad enough, the municipal airport she flies out of basically has a grassy take-off strip in a Farmer’s field.  Is this legal in the US?  I choose to assume so.

And if you’re not already worried enough about my safety, I’ll add that we’ll be flying from south of Boston to Martha’s Vineyard. 

So just go ahead and just say it – we’re all thinking it anyway . . . “Geez Cher – isn’t that where JFK Jr., well, you know, died in a small private plane crash?”

YES!  Yes it is!

I know it, and you know it, but we’re not going to concentrate on that fact because Elle is a big scaredy cat and if might freak her out and then she’ll put the kibosh on the whole private plane flight thing.  And that would be a shame because I’ve been lead to believe that the 30-ish minute flight to Martha’s this time of year is beautiful what with the leaves turning colour and all.  AND I’ve spent the last 2 months psyching myself up for it.

So you will all send happy, lucky, positive thoughts my way on Friday when we take that flight.  Otherwise you’re all getting my boys for 1 week each on a rotating basis.

I do hope to be able to blog about it once I return.  Wish me luck.

Would you go up in such a small plane or are we crazy?  Have you ever been in such a small plane and if so, do you recommend bringing a barf-bag?  Do you have a favourite US clothing store that I should be sure to visit?

Today I feel the need to clear up some confusion.  In my last post about my trip to Ottawa, I showed you this picture.

And I mentioned that during our visit, we enjoyed eating at that establishment a few times.

And then I received many horrified comments.  Here’s what some of you said;

• Beaver tails??? Really?
• beaver tails sounds just a little bit nasty. I’m just sayin…
• Beavertails…do I even want to know?
• I’m pretty sure I’m not the first, nor the last, to ask this…but what the hell is a beaver tail?
• Like, real beaver tails?

And so you’ve left me no option.  I must respond.  I feel I need to explain myself.

First, please take a look a the word directly below “Beaver Tails” on the sign.  Here – I’ll enlarge it for you . . .

See what it says there?  Pastry!  CANADIANS DO NOT EAT REAL BEAVER TAILS!  (well, I don’t think we do. at least no one I know does)

Honestly.  What do you people take us for?!

(never-mind.  don’t answer that)

As per my friend Wiki, a Beaver Tail is:

“fried dough pastries individually hand stretched to resemble a beaver’s tail.”

And they look like this.

And they’re fresh and warm and made as you order them.  And they come with many different toppings.  Like cinnamon sugar.  Or chocolate.  Or icing sugar.  Or chocolate & bananas.  You can pretty much put anything fattening on a Beaver Tail.  Because it’s already fattening.  Because it’s FRIED DOUGH!

And just for the record, I’ll say it very clearly . . . it is NOT a REAL beaver tail! 

But it IS mighty delicious!

Sheesh – must I teach you foreigners everything?!

(speaking which . . . if you come back on Monday, there will be a celebration of sorts AND I’ll be talking about baths, butts and tongues.  Although possibly not in that order.  But still.  Who would want to miss out on all that?)

Okay, who wants a Beaver Tail now?

I’m back!  It feels like I’ve been gone for ages.  Which is actually kinda true.  Out of the past 20 working days, I’ve been on vacation for 13 of them.  I’m living the life I tell you (my desk at work, however, will tell a different tale).

First I was away at a cottage, then my trip to Boston with Jessalyn & Surferwife, and today I’m fresh back from a trip to Ottawa, Ontario (the capital city of Canada – about a 4 hour drive from me).  Okay – not a very exciting location.  True.  We went there primarily for a soccer tournament, but stayed a few extra days to do the tourist thing.  I assure you it’s a beautiful city, and we had a good time.  And ate out a lot.  Which generally helps to determine my like or dislike of a vacation.  Having to do your own cooking all week is NOT a vacation in my books.

So, in order to apologize for my extended absence, I brought you back a few pictures. 

First, we have Parliament Hill.  This building is where our Prime Minister works his “magic” and runs the country.  It’s our version of The White House and it’s really old.  Like one or two hundred years old or something.  You’d think I’d know a little more precisely, but history was never one of my strong subjects.  I just like that it looks like a castle.  Because when you’re near a castle, you get to pretend you’re a Princess.  And then the other people you are with get to be treated like your servants.  And that’s fun.  For me.

Next we have a picture of a Mountie.  Contrary to popular belief, these fine gentleman do NOT roam the streets of Canada.  They’re really more ceremonial and are typically only found at special governmental events.  Which is why I was really excited to come across this guy. 

“Great!” I said.  “I can get a picture of me the boys with him!  I’m sure the bloggy world will find that amusing!” 

To which Willie said “We’ll do it on our way out.”

As you will notice, no one in my family is posing with this gentlemen.  That’s because he was gone when we came out.  You can blame that on Willie – just like I did.

Next, I will share with you a picture I insisted be taken for no one else’s pleasure but my own.  Because I intend to have it blown up, mounted, and hung on the Family Room wall as a constant reminder to the rest of my family.

Also, we ate lots of these.  It’s what us Canadians do.  Yes, you eat them.  And they’re deee LISH!  Google them.  Go ahead.

And finally, I leave you with this little gift.  It should more than make up for my extended absence.  This guy was a street performer, and I assure you, what you are about to see on top of his head is real.  I saw him several times.  I checked thoroughly.

You’re welcome.