Guys, guys. I just had a thought and had to post about this immediately.

Moms are seriously the greatest. You know what made me think this? This sequence of events:

I stood up and thought maybe I should give my mom a call while I did the dishes or while I walked the dog. And then I thought “oh wait, it’s 8 o’clock, I wonder if that would be a bad time because maybe she’s watching a show she likes.” And then I thought about how I always just call her when it’s the most convenient for me. And guys.


My mom has never once said to me “oh, sorry, Amy. Can you call me back in a bit, I want to see how Bones figures out this case.” or “Oh, hey bud. Can you make this call fast, I want to make sure the Glee kids get to regionals”. None of that ever.

It stands to reason that I must have called before at a time that wasn’t great for my mom to take the call but she has never, ever missed the opportunity to talk to me. And guys, I don’t know. That’s making me feel a bit more teary eyed than I’d like to admit to on Facebook (hence why I’m here).

Moms, you guys. They’re the fucking best. Or, specifically my mom is the best.

Spoilers, Obviously

Guys, guys!

Okay. I know it’s been awhile. I mean, it’s been so long that someone even sweetly commented asking me to come back to the Internet. Like, guys, that is both so sweet and an indicator of how long it has been.

And guys, I haven’t really been gone from the Internet per say. Like, I’ve written on a secret blog about baby-making, I’ve been all over the Facebook, and I even started a little production company called The Pilot Projects with my home girl, Zalina. Oh! Right! And I also started a podcast with said home girl!

WHAT! Yes, you heard me. The aforementioned Zalina and I have put out a podcast every Thursday called Spoilers, Obviously. The premise of the podcast is pretty neat (if I do say so myself) and I thought I should make sure you guys knew about it too! And also maybe to pledge to post more. Maybe. I don’t know, I’m not sure how I feel about this blog anymore. Or this blog’s name. Or using my real name. Or. Or.Or.

Anywaaaaays. Spoilers, Obviously is a podcast wherein Zalina tells me the plots of all the television shows and movies that I’m too chicken to watch. This is something that Zalina and I have done for years already and frankly were conversations too funny not to be sharing with you. The episodes are typically 45 minutes long and cover whole seasons of television which is quite the little time saver.


Zalina made this poster. Zalina is 98% the brains behind everything I do.

Zalina made this poster. Zalina is 98% the brains behind everything I do.

I’m having an absolute blast with the show and the feedback we’ve been getting has been just amazing. As my wife, Cherry Beach*, describes the show “it’s like when you hear two people on the bus having a conversation that you find so interesting that you can’t stop listening to it.” Or as our friend Megan says “good job you guys, except, Zalina, you’re telling Amy everything wrong!”

Another amazing side effect of doing Spoilers Obviously is that my creative juices are starting to flow again. I have so many amazingly talented friends and I really should be utilizing their skills through collaborations. Or sweatshops. Something.

So guys, check out Spoilers, Obviously! And maybe, maybe I’ll try to write on this baby more in the future. Maybe on Thursdays when I write the blog post for the podcast. It’s not like I don’t have so many opinions that I want to share. I literally have ALL of the opinions.

*Cherry Beach!  That’s gonna be my fiancé’s blog nickname! She’s going to love it! [editor’s note – no, no she won’t at all]


It is 2014? But, but when was it 2013?

It is important to me that you read the post title in the styling of Ross Gellar in the most famous episode of Friends:

When you spend the first four months of a year planning the most important party of your life and then spend the next 8 months happily reliving that party, it makes for a short, blissful year. 2013, you were pretty good to me, sister.

2013 Highlights:

1.) Having the best wedding in the history of all weddings. I’m sorry if you think your wedding was the best wedding or are hoping your wedding will be the best wedding. But no, my wedding was the greatest wedding of all time and you just have to accept that.

You could almost say the wedding was...super!

You could almost say the wedding was…super!

2.) After having the wedding that was better than yours we went on an amazing honeymoon in Mexico. Now, I know that I’m a little bit bias here but I’m pretty sure that this was the greatest honeymoon ever in the history of the world. Okay, I know you’re now thinking I’m being a bit hyperbolic but guys, it was seriously so wonderful. All we did was hang out with one another at a beautiful beach side resort, eat fabulous meals together, and then sometimes we would go on bitchin adventures. This to me is my perfect line-up. I mean, even my pale-pale skin was happy to be in the sun and that’s pretty unusual.

When in the sun it is important to wear the most fabulous of hats.

When in the sun it is important to wear the most fabulous of hats.


3.) Before the wedding and the honeymoon though something equally amazing happened. My best friend/greatest person I know hosted for me the perfect bachelorette party ever. Don’t believe me? Well here’s four words that will convince you otherwise: Harry Potter Murder Mystery. Yeah. I bet you feel pretty bad about the people you call “friends” now, don’t you?

I obviously played Ron. Obvs.

I obviously played Ron. Obvs.


4.) Another great part of 2013 was that my wife and I have both settled into jobs that we really, really like. I started my current job in 2012 but I would say that it was in mid 2013 that I really started to see how me and my job fit together. I actually love going to work (what?!) and kind of think of it as a video game (this is totally a result of playing far too many hours of the Sims but I don’t care! I’m running with it!). My wife started a whole new job and is loving it. Anyone who has ever been married/with someone who does not like their job knows how amazing it is to not hear the constant complain– I mean, knows how amazing it is when their partner is doing something they like with people they adore.

Also my Paint skillz are really coming along.

Also my Paint skillz are really coming along.

4.) I had so many new adventures/experiences this year!

I golfed for the first time and totally loved it.

Also, I'm really good at dressing for the part.

Also, I’m really good at dressing for the part.

I volunteered at  We Day and had an amazing time! Also I cried so hard when Chris Hadfield sang with the Barenaked Ladies (who I got to see twice in concert this year!).

And I was in the same room as Darren Criss so I'm basically almost best friends with Chris Colfer. Basically. Almost.

And I was in the same room as Darren Criss so I’m basically almost best friends with Chris Colfer. Basically. Almost.

I also went to the theatre! And travelled for work! And got a ukulele! And lost 20 pounds before the wedding! And gained back 20 pounds after the wedding! And cooked a whole roast chicken dinner by myself! And got really good at volleyball! And I bought my first car! So many adventures, you guys! Adventures!

5.) 2013 also started my wife and I down the path of parenthood. No, no one’s pregnant but we’ve taken all the necessary steps that someone could potentially become pregnant. I actually started a little blog about the process that I will probably share with you all after we actually have a baby. Sharing the process while you’re in the middle of the process makes the whole thing a little too big. For now it’s just a nice space for me to share my many, many feelings.

6.) Speaking of babies! Right at the end of 2013, on December 25th, my wife’s sister had a baby! They all live in England so we probably won’t get to meet him for a little while but we’re already madly in love with our little nephew. Here he is talking to us on Skype:

I'm sorry your 8 day old nephew is not as smart as my 8 day old nephew.

I’m sorry your 8 day old nephew is not as smart as my 8 day old nephew.

7.) Oh man, I’m going to have to stop here because there were so many awesome parts of 2013 and I know you’re already fuming with jealousy. I can’t do that to you. We’re friends!

Obviously there were some rough times in 2013 as well. We lost both Spike and Zooey in 2013, bringing our household number of cats down to a measly 2. However, this is making us appreciate the heck out of our two little lady cats and so we’re giving them as much love as possible. 

With her brother gone she  has taken to following me around everywhere.

With her brother gone she has taken to following me around everywhere.

Gah the love is palpable!

Gah the love is palpable! Can’t you just palp it? Can’t you! 

All in all though, 2013 kind of rocked my socks. I know I didn’t blog as much as I did in 2012 but I’m hoping this year will be different! See what I did there? I’m not resolving to blog more I’m just hoping that 2014 will include some more blogging. Maybe. Possibly. The only way to know is to constant be checking in and probably by sending me fan mail. Or something! 

Do I have any for realz 2014 resolutions? I don’t know, really! I think the following is the closest to the things I hope to achieve:

  • Play more sports and be more active!
  • Learn how to stop on skates. This should be an easy accomplishment with skating lessons starting THIS Saturday!
  • See more of friends who I don’t usually see more of. We all have those friends that we say “we should totally hang out some time! Let’s get together!” and then never ever do. I mean, sure, some are because we’re lying and actually hate those people but some are actually terrible accidents of timing/circumstance! I’m hoping this year to make more time to see the people I love.
  • Turn 30. This is not really as resolution so much as something that is happening this year, you guys. I’m just making sure you are aware of this monumental occasion.
  • Learn some new things! I was going to say “learn to play the ukulele” because I have one and I’m going to TOTALLY learn how to play it but what if I also learn karate? What if I also learn how to dog whisper? Guys, let’s not limit ourselves with specifics, ok?

So anyways! How was your 2013? Was it awesome? Did it suck so hard? I want to hear all about it because I love you. Also, it is super stupid that new years resolutions are meant to start when the outside world is so freezing. Who’s going to go out and buy vegetables or start running when it’s -20? No one. You know what I am going to do though? I’m going to start 2014 feeling fresh and new and happy and that’s pretty much the best way to start anything.




I just really liked him

That’s what I keep saying about my cat, Zooey, who died unexpectedly on Monday night. I know that must sound like it goes without saying, of course I liked him, he was part of my family. He was soft as a bunny. He had a floppy ear. What wasn’t there to like? But, that’s just what I keep saying over and over as a justification for why I am so, so sad. I just really liked him.

He was also regal and dainty and wonderful and amazing.

He was also regal and dainty and wonderful and amazing.

Last February, right after our Dosey Doe, we had to put our cat Spike down. This was an incredibly hard thing to do. Spike was a bit of a bitey little guy and we knew that his viciousness, even if infrequent, would be a sore spot if we ever had kids. We knew that he would have to go one day, though we hated thinking about it, but knew it would maybe have to happen that he found another home. Then, we noticed that he was acting a little listless and took him to the vet. It turned out he had horrible tumours in his stomach and there was nothing the vet could do. We took him home, one last time, spent the night crying and petting him, and the next morning we watched as his light left him in the vets office. It was an incredibly hard thing to do and be a part of.

Zooey was a very different case. On Sunday night I noticed right away that he was acting a little skittish and at around midnight he started to throw-up. He proceeded to throw-up every hour on the hour until the morning. Getting ready to leave for work I pet him on the head, told him I hoped he felt better, and left, knowing my amazing wife would take him to the vet that morning and while things would probably be expensive, at least poor Zooey would feel better.

The vet visit went as expected, blood work, exams and Zooey was put on an iv and the veterinarian said Zooey would have to be kept over night. I complained all day about how he had thrown up under our bed and how much everything was surely to cost and how anxious I felt, etc., etc. At 7pm that night the vet’s office called me, asked if it would be ok if they did a urinalysis and that, while still not eating, Zooey hadn’t been sick in a several hours. I asked how he was doing and the vet said:

“Oh, you know, he doesn’t like being in the cage, so he’s tucked in the back. Otherwise he seems fine.” My heart ached at the thought of my little sucky Zooey being uncomfortable and in the back of his cage. I wished that I had gone to visit him but knew we would know more in the morning and we would probably be able to pick him up then.

The next day I had a work event that I was hosting at a school 2 hours away from home. Essentially it’s like a scholastic book fair but for professors. And there’s free food. And lots of coffee. I knew that the vet was going to call at some point with an update but otherwise I was too busy to think too much on it. A little past 11 my wife texted me asking me to call her. My heart dropped as I knew this was bad news. Good news can be texted, bad news has to be spoken.

I left the room and went to a bench nearby and called. I think I was expecting to find out that Zooey was going to, again, cost us thousands of dollars. Or that his condition was more serious than we thought and we would be faced with a hard choice. Or something. I was not expecting to hear my crying wife tell me that Zooey had passed away in the night. I think I saw black. I think I said “what?” We spoke for a bit longer and than I went into a bathroom and cried. I took a photo of myself crying.

Crying for your favourite little guy, all alone, in a campus bathroom.

Crying for your favourite little guy, all alone, in a campus bathroom.

Why did I take the photo? How self-indulgent can one person be, right? But that wasn’t really why. I knew, in that moment that I had to compartmentalize my sadness and act like I was okay in front of the professors. I couldn’t think about Zooey because I had to make it through the next 4 hours as professionally as I could. And it felt wrong, somehow, to not at least document with this one picture the sadness that I was experiencing. So, there you go.

Zooey was the softest cat in the whole world and you knew how hard he worked to keep that coat so soft if you ever had the luck to try to sleep as he cleaned himself, methodically, and so very loudly right next to your head as you tried to sleep.

Zooey also had a wonky ear because of a hematoma rupture in his ear that caused it to go “cauliflower ear”. It didn’t hurt him and he could still hear fine and honestly, we absolutely loved it about him. He was already so much like a puppy, with his sweetness and dopey personality. The flopped down ear also looked a little like a beret, and so we would often greet him with “bonjour, Zooey!”.

A rare pre-ear accident picture.

A rare pre-ear accident picture.

Zooey was the gentlest giant you ever met. For all of Spike’s random aggression, Zooey was 100% docile. He hated having his nails clipped but he never, not once, bit or scratched my wife. Even when he was playing with you, the second his paw met skin he would retract his claws and gently pat-pat-pat you. Even when he would climb on top of me in the morning and knead my belly or back or leg, if his paws touched skin he would immediately stop.

Also, he was probably the worst ninja ever.

Also, he was probably the worst ninja ever.

He was so sweet and gentle and dumb and slow that we would always laugh and say how one day our future kids would only be able to catch poor Zooey. And they would wrap themselves around him and he would stare at us helplessly. Sometimes I would imagine my kids not being able to say his name properly and how that would morph into a new name for him.

I can’t believe that is never going to happen now.

I just keep expecting to see him. I keep imaging that he’s about to run up the stairs any second, or jump down on me from his bookshelf bed, or try to lick my hair in the morning to wake me up.

And I keep thinking about how scared and sad he must have been at the vet’s office. All alone in a cage, feeling awful, missing us and I can’t even try to stop the tears. I know we can’t control how the people and pets we love will die, I know that. But, Zooey didn’t deserve to be all alone in the end. Zooey would never leave anyone alone if they were hurting or sad.

My wife and I, in our cuter moments, play this call and say game where I ask her a question, like “Who do I love?” or “Who is the best?” or “Who is my favourite?” And for any one of those questions she would call back with “Zooey!” and I would say “Yes, exaclty! Oh, and also you!” And she would say “Yay!” and it hurts my heart so much to know that we can’t ever play that game again. Because my little guy is gone .

I’ve written 1249 words already about my grief and loss and I can’t imagine anyone is still reading. If you are, you either really love cats or you really love me (or both!) or really hate your job or there’s no Rob Ford news available or you are doing a study on lesbian attachments to cats or something. For whatever reason, thank you. Thank you for letting me share this pain and for being understanding. I know so many people, people who have never had pets or who did but didn’t really “get it” will have no understanding for why or how I could be so distraught over the death of a 7 year old tuxedo cat with a floppy ear. And there’s nothing I can say that will help or make you understand. All I can do is try to write about my grief and my pain as a way to cope. That’s all anyone can really do.

I just, I just really liked him.

Goodnight, Zooey. I already miss you so much.

Goodnight, Zooey. I already miss you so much.


Today is Thanksgiving if you’re Canadian (and celebrate Thanksgiving. Otherwise, it’s a Monday where the banks are closed).

This was a particularly nice thanksgiving weekend as the wife and I hooked up both sets of in-laws and we had the first ever joint-parent holiday dinner. And it was really lovely. We are so lucky that we have the parents we have (and the brother, he’s pretty cool too).

The weekend was full of all the things you’d expect for a long weekend filled with family, food, and fun. We ate, we drank, we were generally quite merry. I love my in-laws and my parents very much and it was so nice to see the two sets of families and all the kids get more understanding of why everyone is the way they are.

It was a particularly exciting thanksgiving for us, being newly-weds, since our last name literally bridges the two families together. Such a wonderful realization that our love combines two different families, who otherwise would never have met. So amazing to think that one day, when we have kids, they’ll have a completely new last name. The love and partnership we have creates. Love, man. It’s pretty incredible.

And I’m thankful for that love. I’m thankful for my wife. I’m thankful for my family. But you know what I’m the most thankful for? On this oh, holiest of thanksgiving weekends? I’m thankful that I live in Canada and not fucking Russia.

If you’re someone who follows the news or at the very least has friends on Facebook who follows the news (or even just the Olympics, really) then you’re probably familiar with some of the shit that’s going on in Russia. You know, like that Gay Pride Parades have been banned in Moscow for 100 years. Or, hey, the new law Russia passed this summer. You know, the new law that bans any promotion of “non-traditional sexual relations” to minors. Or, basically, telling kids that it’s ok to be gay, that being gay is normal, or that hey, gay people exist and they’re not monsters is against the law.

This law was passed in June and the ramifications against gays and their allies living in Russia is already running rampant. Violence is on the rise. Kids, gay or assumed to be gay, are being kidnapped and savagely tortured. The people who attack these kids, these young innocent kids, are getting a maximum sentence of 3 months.

But wait, there’s more. Russia has banned adoptions of its orphan children from any gay couples. That makes sense, right? They probably aren’t giving a lot of rights to the gay adults living in Russia who want to provide a home for a homeless child. Oh, wait, what’s that? Oh that’s right. Russia has also banned the adoption of any of its orphan children to any gay parents from any country. Oh! But us gays, we’re tricky. Sometimes we pretend to just be “single” so that we can trick countries into allowing us to give homes to their children without. But, you guys. Russia is too smart for us family-oriented gay folk. That’s right, if you’re a single person and you live in a country that allows marriage equality you can’t adopt either. That’s right! Russia would rather see it’s orphaned children raised without families, in Russian orphanages, than see a gay person, like me, raise them.

But wait. There’s more. And this, you guys. This really is what has me gritting my teeth in anger, maybe more than anything else that Russia’s done so far. This February Russia will be debating on a new law that would take away children of gay and lesbian couples. So, okay. Let’s play pretend so that you really understand what this would look like.

Say I happened to have been born in Russia, instead of in Canada. Okay, I now speak Russian and probably whine way less about the cold. Now, fast forward to adult-Amy. I’m still gay, since homosexuality isn’t locationally based, and somehow despite all of the discrimination and hardships I’ve faced being gay, I’ve met a girl, we’ve fallen in love, and we’ve built a family. There’s no marriage equality in Russia, but let’s say this girl and I have had our own ceremony with our friends and few family members and while we have no laws protecting our relationship, let’s say we’re as married as we can be. Let’s say this girl had a child from a previous relationship and then, before the adoption ban was evoked, we adopted a baby. And you know what! We’ve EVEN gone ahead and done our own home insemination using our good friend Vlad’s “donation” and I gave birth to a baby too. Okay, you keeping track? Me and my wife have three children and we’re as happy as we can be living in this terrifying country. Now, guess which kids the Russian government could take away from us if this law is passed?

All of them.

If you’re a gay couple in Russia who has kids, the government can take your kids away from you and then place them in orphanages. They will rip children away from their mothers, their fathers. I can’t even. This can’t be real?

And so yeah. You know what I’m grateful for this thanksgiving? That I live in Canada. A country that has so many of its own issues and problems and could always be better. But you know what? I’m married and one day I’ll be a mom and no one will ever take my kids away from me. And for that I will always have so much gratitude.

This blog post won’t be enough for me when it comes to what’s going on in Russia right now. If I need to take in a refugee Russian family who’s fleeing to stay together we will. If this means talking about this to everyone I know and following it as closely as I can I will.

When I was a little kid I read everything I could about WWII. I think we all go through that stage, where you are so sickly fascinated by the gross cruelty of people. I always wondered what I would do if I had been born in that time if I would have tried to help, if I would have fought. Now I don’t have to wonder this. Russia is repeating all of atrocities I found inconceivable as a child. I have to fight.

Dear Frisky Beaver Winemakers…

The Friskiest
Dear Frisky Beaver Winemakers,

 Last night my wife and I had our first bottle of your fine product (Frisky Red, FYI) and it has filled me with great regret and added to my never-ending list of ‘Reason Why I need a Time Machine’.
You see, in April of 2013 I married the girl of my dreams in a beautiful heritage school house in Toronto that we paid for completely on our own. This, of course, means that we also outfitted the bar with a fine selection of beers, mix, spirits, and wines.
Before the wedding we had invited 6 of our best friends over, directing them to each bring 1 bottle of red and 1 bottle of white for a wine tasting extravaganza to pick the wedding wines. Only 2 of our friends had the forethought to spit out after each sip, while the rest of us drank approximately 16 glasses of wine each. The reviews of each wine, recorded in home-made wine tasting booklets, became more and more incoherent as the night went on. With one friend writing “I don’t even know what bottle I’m on. I can’t drink anymore. Someone send help.”
Needless to say, my wife and I ended up picking a generic red and a generic white. Neither that we were crazy about and the red wasn’t even from Ontario (which had been our whole dream/goal as we’re kind of the most patriotic fools you can imagine. I’m not kidding. My wife can’t make it through any commercials that have a) montages b) the Canadian anthem or c) children playing hockey).
This is all back story to explain our devastation of finding your amazing wine 5 months too late. The hilarity of serving Frisky Beaver wine at our super gay wedding would have tickled me in ways that I can never really get over. But, more importantly (than a beaver joke? Inconceivable!) your wine is fantastic. The Frisky Red is light and verbose and finishing half the bottle only made me poetic and not a Thursday morning disaster.
So, in summation: you guys rule. Your wine is now our go to bottle when hosting or gift-hosting and if you guys figure out a time machine, and you’ve already gone back and killed Hitler, please let me know so that I can right a wedding wine wrong.
Your fan,
PS – No, but seriously. You guys will destroy the lesbian wedding wine circuit and should totally try to get into the Gay Wedding Show.


This isn’t a real blog post, you guys. But I just found something on the Internet and HAD to tell you about it IMMEDIATELY. Because we’re friends. Best friends.

So, my wife and I have 3 cats (we had 4 but sadly our orange vampire had to be put down because his stomach was full of the cancer. I still miss him all the time, but thank god I have the scars he gave me to always keep him alive in spirit. One day my grandchildren will look at me, eyes full of wonder and ask where I got those 6 puncture holes in my right leg and I will look at them, smiling wistfully, and say “There once was a cat named Spike..”) and when you have 3 cats (or 1 cat I guess) you have the immeasurable pleasure of scooping out their shit from a box multiple times a week.

When I was growing up and had my amazing cat Askem (who is still alive, somehow, despite the fact that he is 19+ years old and deaf) I somehow avoided dealing with the litter box. I think I probably swindled my dad and little brother into doing it most of the time (no word yet on how my mom got out of doing it though…tricky bastard (it’s totally okay that I call my mom a bastard because you see her parents were unmarried when she was born)). So, of course when my wife and I joined forces the task of the litter box fell, poetic justification high, onto my shoulders. I mean, this also was because I was not impressed with her litter box skillz and I’m a control freak.

So, anyways, I’m the soul litter box changer in a house of 3 cats. I don’t mind it so much as you can think about it as being the most successfully disappointed archaeologist ever. I mean, cause I find something every time, but it’s always crap. However, this also means that I’m always looking for innovation and updates in the world of cat littering (well now that sounds like they’re throwing garbage out of moving cars on the interstate).

This morning, with the wife safely at work and not here to ridicule my googling, I started researching cat litter, to try to find one that is biodegradable but that also clumps super well (you don’t even want to know why that’s so important). Which leads us to the ENTIRE REASON I AM WRITING DESPITE GOING ON AND ON FOR 5 PARAGRAPHS ALREADY. This morning I found this:

self cleaning litter box image

Holy shitballs what the hell is that? Is that cat going to space? Does it spin? Is it a sentient being?! Is this how the robots win?! (Also, how great is it that they’re so proud it was made in the USA? That’s adorable! “Take that, China! We’re going to beat you where it hurts the most — Cat feces control!”)

I know you’re super impressed and want to watch the video as much as I did. So, let’s watch it together:

My favourite moment in the video was probably this totally reasonable moment:

Typical Friday Night

Oh man. Amazing! And for only $300+ US it could be mine. Although, it’s not meant to be used on cats who weigh less than 5 pounds (Janeway) or more than 15 pounds (Zooey).

Ah, you guys. The Internet and people are just so good to us. Let’s give them all of our money and time…More..more than we already do.

(Although, on a serious note while reading the FAQ on this product it mentioned that cats with diabetes create a lot more urine than usual and that is actually going on with Janeway right now so this may actually have been really helpful in figure out what’s going on with her health-wise (because while it is interesting that she seems more and more like a zombie existing only to feed on more love it’s actually quite worrisome as well).