27 Years of Wisdom (and Stamp) Collecting

When I was a kid, I used to daydream about 'future me' and what she would be like. Then I would wish that she could travel back in time and tell me everything she learned so that I wouldn't have to go through the trouble of experiencing it. Sort of like Biff in Back to the Future, except I wouldn't be a bitter old man who only wanted his past self to be rich. That's still something current me hopes that future me figures out and comes back to the present to share.

"It's *leave*, you idiot! "Make like a tree, and leave." You sound like a damn fool when you say it wrong." 

So here we are, on the eve of my birthday, while I am awaiting to turn 25 for the third time, and I'm actually proud to say that in many ways, I have become that woman I wanted to be. True, I may not be a famous musician, or actress, or writer, and until recently was best known for my wildly out of control ketchup addiction, but more importantly, I've learned some character building life lessons. I've also attained some more realistic goals, like my goal of learning how to set goals. Understandably, given this vast amount of wisdom and knowledge I have accumulated in my humble 27 years, there is much of it that I would like to go back and share with my past self, such as:

• If you leave milk out on the counter, it will go bad. I can't stress this enough. Put it in the refrigerator, or, failing that, a cool, damp sac
• Oil changes are the single most important thing you can do to extend your car's life. You've heard dad say this many times, but shake me upside down and call me Susan, he was right
• You know all that money you made at your summer jobs that you are going to blow on frivolous things? Yeah, take all of that, put it into this account called a "mutual fund", and don't touch it until early 2007.
• Stop plucking your eyebrows. I know you think you know what you are doing, but you don't. Just stop and go to a professional
• When you are travelling, you should always always pack extra socks and underwear. Just...trust me on this
• You are allergic to cats. Know this now before you move out and get a cat. But get her anyway because she is adorable and worth the dried out eyelids and hives
• "Definitely" is not spelt "definately". It took you far too long to learn this

Then to freak her out a bit, I'd tell her about Justin Bieber and the invention of crocs. 

In all seriousness, I would tell her that the real world isn't as big and scary of a place as she thought it would be, and that it's actually quite an adventure. I'd tell her that happiness is an amalgamation of the attitude you choose to have every day about the world and about yourself, the types of people you choose to associate with, and the amount of effort and action you are going to take and put behind the things in life that are truly valuable. I would tell her that sometimes the best way to get over yourself and what you're dealing with is to shift the focus off of you and onto helping someone else. 

Then I would subtly hand her the 2015 sports almanac and be on my way.

Title: Master. First Name: Is what. Last Name: You Will Address Me As.

I logged onto Westjet's website yesterday to book some flights for my upcoming vacation. When I reached the section where you enter your personal information, I saw they had a new title available in the drop down list:

My initial reaction was to wonder if people other than Jedi Knights actually hold the title of Master, and if it is imperative they are addressed as such while travelling?

"Would you like a beverage, sir?"

"I'm sorry, I do not respond to anyone who does not address me by my proper title of Master."

According to wikipedia, it was formerly common (in Anglophone Canada) for the English usage of master to be followed for boys, when addressing letters or in formal address, but use of the title Master has now largely ceased, outside of highly formal situations (such as for weddings and wedding invitations).

...wedding invitations??

You are cordially invited to the wedding of:

Master Sarah Johnson

and

Master Tom Henry

Their parents hope that the union of these two Masters will result in exponential growth of Masterdom for the family and will produce many Master sons and daughters, who will then procreate with other Masters creating a Master societal hierarchy in which they will be the sole Masters with the most Masterhood.

At least, that's how I'd write MY wedding invitation.

My second reaction was HEY...I could have some fun with this:

Once I had exhausted all my ideas for things I could be Master of, I started wondering what kind of a debacle the following would cause:

I imagine it would go something like this:

Westjet Rep: First name?

Me: Last Name.

WR: No, what is your FIRST name.

Me: Last Name...

WR: Fine, what is your LAST name then?

Me: First Name.

WR: I just asked you for your first name!

Me: I know. That's why I said Last Name.

WR: Look. Just tell me what your FIRST name is. The one that comes BEFORE your last name.

Me: Last name.

WR: *head explodes*

Sometimes The Most Effective Way To Express Your Feelings Is Through a Pie Chart

Last night started off as a pretty average night. I came home from work, ate, relaxed, tv'd, internetted, and completely ignored my plans to go to bed at a semi-decent time. I'd finally started to drift off around 12:30 a.m. when I was awoken by what I can only describe as the sound of someone stomping in big, wet, sloshy rainboots down my condo hallway.

I was immediately extremely confused. My brain struggled to push me into full consciousness while trying to comprehend why someone would be stomping in big, wet, sloshy rainboots down my hallway in the middle of the night.

Fully awake and slightly terrified, I stared wide-eyed at the ceiling and weighed what I had heard against logic. I decided there were only two distinct possibilities; either there was an angry fisherman standing outside my condo door, or something else happened that only SOUNDED like an angry fisherman stomped down the hall to my door. Which was more likely though?

Reasons it could be an angry fisherman:

-Was raining today...could account for sloshy rainboots

-Building security not very effective. Could totally see some pimply teenager holding the door open with one hand for murderous-looking angry fisherman while holding six pack of beer, video games and graphic novel with the other

Reasons it would NOT be an angry fisherman:

-Fishermen rare in Edmonton due to lack of large bodies of water

-Have you ever seen a picture of a fisherman who DOESN'T look happy? Like, really.

Although I carefully weighed each factor, I was still pretty torn:

My next step was to determine if this sound was worth getting out of bed to investigate.

I quickly made a mental list of pros and cons for getting up:

Pro - If angry fisherman is present and threatening situation ensues, can better utilize mad ninja skills if not lying down

Con - Must leave illusion of impenetrable fortress created by hiding under covers

Pro - By getting up, I will burn 7 of the 400 calories I intended to burn off before deciding to skip the gym today

Con - On a scale of "unlikely" to "extremely likely", the odds of me tripping on something in the dark are "definite"

Pro - Angry fisherman might be cute?

Con - If there is no evidence to back up strange sound, will have no choice but to determine sound was a result of a bad food dream forcing me to sacrifice my customary fruit-roll-up snack before bed

Pro - Maybe the lottery ticket I bought last week WAS a winner, and the sound I heard was actually people excitedly hiding so that when I walk out of my room they will jump out and yell "SURPRISE! YOU ARE A MILLIONAIRE! Here is your oversized cardboard cheque. We apologize for how difficult it will be to fit it into the bank machine's deposit slot. Would you like to pay someone to deposit it for you?"

It was upon realization that the safety of my cat could be in jeopardy (I don't know how fishermen feel about cats) that I finally decided to conduct a quick walk-around.

I stepped into the living room, turned on the light and was astonished by what I saw...

As it turns out, my cat was the angry fisherman!

Apparently the sound of big, wet, sloshy rainboots stomping down a hallway is identical to the sound your cat makes the first time she yaks all over your floor.

Important Warning Signs That You May Have Turned Into a Sloth

• You have a mini heart attack every time you hear someone walk outside the door of your condo because it could be your roommate, and you’re not quite sure if you have enough time in between hearing her keys jingle and sprinting to your bedroom in order to avoid her seeing you sitting on the couch eating freezer-burnt ice cream in nothing but your underwear


• You sit on the couch eating freezer-burnt ice cream in nothing but your underwear


• The vacuum was successfully retrieved from the closet, but the only function it now serves is to stand like a Greek statue in the middle of your living room. You dutifully walk around it as to not disturb its artistic stature.


• “Hey, this blog I found is so totally awesome, like I mean, wow, it’s so incredibly funny and I could read it forever and then I could read it some more and OH GOOD GAWD how has four hours past already?!”


• The only reasons you have removed yourself from the crater your ass has created in the couch is for washroom breaks and to heat up a microwave dinner.


• You feel physically incapable of turning off the tv even though you have a splitting headache from watching too much of it and it’s long past the point that anything remotely decent or entertaining would be on.

  Pretty soon you’re stuck flipping between a rerun of Hell’s Kitchen (you know, the one where Chef Ramsey loses his sh*t and shuts down dinner service) and one of the Matrix sequels where Morpheous struts around in sunglasses that are supposedly so cool they don’t even need arms.

• “I seem to have spilt some juice on the counter. I should probably clean that up. Yup. Probably should.”


• The garbage and recycling are so very full but you insist on stuffing them down some more because damn it, you’re not taking both those bags out simply because some empty milk carton has the arrogance to take up so much space.

If you identify with any of these telling signs but are still unsure if you are a sloth, it won’t hurt to take immediate corrective action just in case:

• Peel yourself off the couch and go outside for a run.
  

  If this task seems too daunting or pushes you too far out of your sloth comfort zone, at least pull yourself onto the elliptical beside your couch that has rapidly been collecting dust since you discovered one side squeaks like a squirrel that swallowed a chew toy, subsequently causing you to pull multiple muscles because you think by shifting your weight around you can trick the elliptical into not making said squeaky noise.
  

  Use earplugs to circumvent the squeaks.
  

  For motivation while you are exercising, put up some red tape between two walls or objects in front of your elliptical. This will create the illusion that you are in a race and very very close to the finish line. (For added effect, play theme song from Chariots of Fire in the background.)
  

  Once you have completed your allotted amount of exercise time, feel free to run through the red tape chest first with your arms flailing gloriously in the air. Jump up and down in slow motion. Avoid any nearby furniture. (Important note: Unfortunately, simply thinking about exercising does not burn any calories.)

• Call a friend to come over at a specified time. Choose someone you know well enough to invite over but not well enough that you wouldn’t care if they came in and saw you living like a sloth. You now have a deadline to tidy up, vacuum, do laundry, shower and make yourself look like you weren’t rescued from a bayou and raised by a pack of mangy wolves who cared little for personal hygiene.


• Trick yourself into thinking that you are the Terminator, but instead of fighting evil robots from the future, your mission is to destroy dirt and uncleanliness in all its forms. Schwarzenegger accent and catch phrases should be used sparingly.

Warning – prolonged slothen activity could be hazardous to your health. If you have been suffering from intense symptoms that have lasted for more than seven days, please consult your physician, therapist, life coach, and contact a junk removal service to remove the stack of pizza boxes that is threatening to fall over and bury your cat alive.

Spelling & Grammar Pet Peeves

I was talking with a friend today about spelling and grammar pet peeves. While I in no way claim to be the all knowing authoritative source for spelling and grammar, and do (on rare occasions, ahem) make errors myself, I cannot help but be bothered by some very common spelling and grammar mistakes. I've also discovered a definitive correlation between the type of error and my level of annoyance. If I were to chart it, it would go something like this:

C Level Errors

Annoyance Level: Mild

Annoyance Indications: furrowing of one or both eyebrows, narrowing of eyes

• then/than
• to/too
• its/it's
• effect/affect
• whose/who's
• double spaces between words

B Level Errors

Annoyance Level: Medium

Annoyance Indications: Unsuccessful suppression of eye twitches, low grunts of disapproval

• you're/your
• there/their/they're
• desert/dessert
• where/wear
• were/we're

A Level Errors

Annoyance Level: High

Annoyance Indications: Yeti-like noises and mannerisms

• using three commas instead of ellipses (,,,/...)
• apostrophes in the wrong place, such as turning "doesn't" into "does'nt". (Saw this error on a shirt in Bluenotes one day. True story.)
• spelling the word "definitely" incorrectly such as; definately, deffinatly, definatly, and ESPECIALLY defiantly, which makes it a different word all together

One of my co-workers perpetually writes "defiantly" instead of "definitely", and I've been trying for months to find a gentle way of saying AHHH STOP WRITING 'DEFIANTLY' WHEN YOU MEAN 'DEFINITELY' BECAUSE EVERY TIME YOU DO A SMALL PIECE OF ME DIES! Just remember; every time you write "defiantly" instead of "definitely", the terrorists have won.

My friend did mention that one of the only times it pleases him to see things spelt incorrectly is in a tattoo, and he sent me a link to this picture, which really just made my day:

I'm actually not incredibly surprised that someone who would want "I'm Awesome" tattooed on their back would spell it incorrectly.

Google (The Wise & Powerful)

I was in the middle of doing laundry tonight when I noticed one of my white shirts - despite having been bleached repeatedly - was still not looking quite as white as I would like it to. Being the resourceful perfectionist that I am, I immediately consulted the all-knowing Google.

Oh wise and powerful Google, the 2000's version of www.askjeeves.com, the modern-day magic 8 ball of all knowledge replacing vague, obtuse answers such as "ask again later" or "outlook not so good" with millions of answers of every colour, shape and size conveniently categorized into "results". But you are not only a provider of knowledge, oh no...you also add joy to already joyous holidays by presenting a lovely custom Google graphic logo. I always know when it's Halloween because when I google something on October 31st, I see the letter G is lookin' mighty smug in its witches hat, and those two little o's are lookin' mighty uncomfortable stewing in that cauldron. Although, I must say, even on an average day, just seeing those primary colours (plus that sneaky non-primary-coloured green 'l') softly dance around the curves of the Google letters makes me feel happy. I think because those colours subconsciously remind me of crayons. And, really, who doesn't like the thought of crayons?

So laundry...right. I log on to google (the wise and powerful), type the first three words of "how to get your shirts their whitest" and see google (the wise and powerful) - like an over-zealous student that sits at the front of the class and yips "OOOHHH OHHH! PICK ME, I KNOW, I KNOW!" while nearly falling out of his chair from pushing his hand so far in the air in an effort to answer the question before the teacher has even finished asking it - present me with its top ten guesses for what I am hoping to learn how to get. Here is the list:

Let's take a moment to examine the top ten things that people have googled "how to get".

• "How to get rid of fruit flies" is second ONLY to "How to get pregnant". We hate them so much that as soon as we conquer that challenging and highly emotional conception problem, the most prominent issue in our minds is dealing with those damn fruit flies.
• 50% of the listed items are cosmetic.
• People desperately want to know how to get a guy to like them, but not as desperately as wanting to know how to get a girl to like them.
• 'Bed bugs', despite being used for ages as a seemingly cute bedtime rhyme for children ("Goodnight...sleep tight...don't let the bed bugs bite...") actually DO exist, and, coming in at number 8, are much more prevalent than we might have thought. (Although, not as prevalent as fruit flies.)

On a google (the wise and powerful) sub-topic, have you ever googled yourself? I just did. Just now. Just for funsies. Check it out:

1,210,000 results! Google (the wise and powerful) loves me THAT much. I knew the feeling was mutual.

Chasing The Apocalypse

I feared for my life a little bit last night. Just a little bit.

My friend Peter and I were taking a stroll around the plaza where we got our ice cream (CHEESECAKE flavoured ice cream...how long has this been around and why did nobody tell me sooner?!) when we looked up at the sky and saw a huge storm front moving in complete with suspicious looking green clouds.  Peter made a comment about how he felt like we should be in Independence Day, and I agreed. I stared up at the sky and waited for some gigantic alien ship to emerge through the clouds.

We'd already changed our plans because of the weather. We were going to head down to Ed Fest to see The Arkells and Pilot Speed when the thunder made us change our minds. This was probably a good thing because apparently, according to the Sonic 102.9 twitter feed, the stage blew over, and garbage cans were flying through the air.  Not wanting to be blown over OR hit with garbage cans, Peter and I did the next most logical thing. Got food and went tornado chasing.  

Although I had my smaller, lesser quality camera with me, I still wanted to go home and grab my "good" camera, which took us in the same direction as the ominous dark clouds.  I've got my head out the window while snapping pictures with one hand and steering with the other, and Peter is torn between staring at the clouds and making sure I don't crash my car.  We came to a stop light where I could finally take some non-blurry pictures, and noted that we just may be witnessing the apocalypse.

Earlier in the evening, Peter had rolled down my passenger side window not knowing it was broken, and naturally, it refused to go back up.  This wasn't that much of a problem until a huge cloud of dust and debris came tumbling down the road at us. Peter is now manually holding my window up, and the wind decides to take some rocks - not stones, but rocks - and attack my car, leaving a nice crack in my windshield. You know, because the broken window just wasn't enough. *growl*.

We turned into my parking lot, and the street lights, as well as the lights in my building, are flickering on and off. Peter had been kind enough to hold on to the cup of my leftover ice cream until he had to put it on the dashboard to hold up the window, but since I'm driving like a maniac, it went flying through the air and landed in his lap.  I start laughing. He is not too pleased, but figures it's an equal trade off for the broken window. 

Up in my condo, Peter cleans up while I grab my camera, a few garbage bags and some packing tape.  We go back down to my car and notice that it has decided to start raining.  We frantically try to tape up my window but keep losing the end of the packing tape. Okay, *I* kept losing the end of the packing tape.  I can't do things when there is a storm to distract me!  I get all giddy and excited and ridiculous.

Peter uses the light inside my car to search for the impossible to find end of the packing tape

We finally get it taped up as much as possible and try to drive off to find a good place to watch the storm. Except for one little problem. With the passenger side window now completely covered in black garbage bags, I can't see any traffic coming from the right, and therefore cannot make any left hand turns.  So, four right hand turns later, and we'd settled in a little parking lot near my condo building. And, after years of trying, I was finally able to photograph some lightning:

This one flickered for a good few seconds and Peter said "You HAD to have gotten that!" Yes Peter...yes I did.

I call this one "Nature Doing The Splits"

Sheet lightning making my condo building look like the entrance to the abyss

We eventually decided to head back to my condo and watch the rest of the storm from my balcony.  Of course we did this when it was raining its heaviest, my parking lot was a massive river, and it was hailing.  I thought it would be a good idea to take a video of the mad dash from the car to the condo. You can't see much in the middle of the video, (it's mostly my high pitched giggles), but it was the most fun I've had in a long time.

Vacationers Beware...

...or you may come back to work and find your office decked out like one of these! Below are authentic pictures of offices from my work that have been decorated while their occupant was away on vacation.  Please note the careful attention to detail.

I wonder how many rolls of tin foil that took? It reminds me of that episode of Mr. Bean when he decides to paint and wraps his entire apartment in newspaper so he can light a stick of dynamite in a paint can. I wish I'd remembered that before I painted my living room.

 

Office camping!! Also handy if you work late and need to stay at work overnight.

The stuffed bear covered while the director was on vacation. According to the paw prints, he can defy gravity. Now that's a bear you want in charge.

Maxipads. Why? I have no idea. Also, I have no idea about the mouse or rat on the screen.

I've saved the best for last. There are a few impressive things here. Somehow (I have NO idea how) they got a real tub and toilet in the office, but not before first laying down the tile.

Michelle enjoys her newly decorated office, complete with toilet paper.  Hopefully she has hand sanitizer handy.

We're All The Stars Of Our Own TV Shows

I was accosted the other day on my way to work.

I had just stumbled off of my bus ride in my usual early morning zombie-like state and made my way to the street corner across from my work. I immediately noticed a few people standing around the corner with a tv camera aimed at them. Before I turned my head in an attempt to discretely walk by, I saw that it was two people collecting for the Salvation Army with a bell and a collection ball hanging thingy. I'm sure there is a more technical term somewhere.

Turns out it was someone from Citytv breakfast television trying to help the Salvation Army rep collect donations. I made the mistake of turning around and accidentally making eye contact which she used as her opportunity to ask me if I would like to donate anything to the Salvation Army. 50 cents, a dime, ANYTHING she says. Not wanting to be the jackass that turns down a charity, especially on tv, I dug out my wallet, faced the camera, and wished I had been a little bit more attentive with my make up that day.

When I put it in, the Citytv host asked me if there was anyone I wanted to say good morning to. Knowing that A) there would be nobody I knew who was watching that

station at that time and B) well...actually just point "A)" again, I stared terrified into the camera and said something resembling "uuuuuummmgggguhh...gooooood moooorning...uhhh....Edmonton???" to which she responded "Well said!"

I was actually able to retrieve a shot of me being on tv. Here is a screen shot of the incident:

After this, I swiftly walked into work extremely flustered and hoping nobody saw my tv debut.

Nikki wasn't in yet, so I went up and left a note on her desk saying "I was accosted this morning." but left it unsigned. She called me about 15 minutes later. Our conversation went like this:

Nikki: How were you accosted?

Lorraine: How did you know it was me?!

Nikki: Honestly Lorraine...you're the only person I know who would use the word "accosted."

She knows me too well.

Crazy Edmonton Weather

Things I have learned about Edmonton weather:

• Don't laugh at the "No parking: Snow route" sign when you are parking because the weather has been in the plus twenties lately. Surely, you will wake up to your car buried in two feet of snow the next day. (True story.)
• If it's sunny in the morning, there is probably more of a chance that you will get rained on later in the day than if it is rainy in the morning.
• 'Tornado warning' in Edmonton does not mean a huge F4 or F5 tornado like one in Kansas or Oklahoma is coming. It means 'funnel cloud might touch down in a farmer's field and whip up some corn'.
• You CAN play softball an hour after a severe thunderstorm and heavy rain and flooding so bad in one part of the city that it went over the hoods of cars.
• If it's raining and thunderstorming in one end of the city, it's probably nice and sunny in the opposite part.
• My car can stand up to hail a lot better than I thought it could.
• Apparently one time it snowed at least once during every single month of the year here.
• The day you don't bring your umbrella to work is the day you will get caught in heavy rain.
• It's a very strange feeling to be slipping on ice from large hail stones when it is +20 outside.

Yesterday Nikki and I witnessed a hail storm from her apartment. Here are some pics I took with my cell phone:

Please note the cute neon in the distance, bravely braving the weather.

Hail gathered under a tree.

How big the hailstones were.

Here are some other pictures I have randomly taken around Edmonton with my cell phone of the whacky weather:

Just getting onto the Whitemud from 159th street. My first attempt at tornado chasing.

I love this picture except for my stupid day pass at Elk Island ruining it in the reflection.

For a storm lover such as myself, I have to say...I totally moved to the right city.

Innovative Car Repairs

I don't know why it is people keep hitting my car when they are backing out of parking spaces. Is my car invisible? Because it looks silver to me. If I have been driving around with an invisible car, I would hope that someone would have told me by now. The idea that I have had an invisible car this entire time and not taken advantage of it is upsetting to me. I wish Impark personnel couldn't see my car the way these people that keep driving into me don't.

What makes me the most angry is knowing a simple glance in the rear view mirror or side view mirror would quickly indicate to them that yes, there IS indeed a car behind them and maybe, just maybe, they should attempt to avoid hitting it. Who ARE these people that slam on the gas pedal and think "Look out, I'm coming back, if you get hit, it's your fault!" Perhaps they are the same people that ride their bikes into parked cars. By the same logic, would you walk backwards without looking? No...so why would you operate a huge device made of steel worth thousands of dollars with you in it without watching where you are going? WHY!?

The inspiration for this rant came from a recent incident in the Best Buy parking lot. Here I was, driving very slowly, making my way over to an empty parking stall. I see a car backing out to my left. I see the car isn't stopping. I'm too far along to brake and avoid a collision, and cannot accelerate fast enough to get out of the way. So I slam on my horn and hold it down. The car still comes. I look around me trying to think of what other possible signal I can give to indicate "HEY YOU ARE ABOUT TO DRIVE RIGHT INTO ME YOU MORON". After a good three seconds of horn blasting, the car backs into me anyway, crunching my driver's side door. The wonderfully ironic part of the story is that the weather conditions were atrocious as it was the second day of our April blizzard. So one would think that car accidents would be more likely to happen. But this accident had nothing to do with the weather! She didn't slide...she didn't even try to brake. It had to do with stupidity instead.

She gets out of her car all distraught and apologizing. I say it's ok, these things happen, once I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. After all, it could be a lot worse. After going inside her van to get a pen, and me hearing her teenage son in the passenger side say "I TOLD you to stop!" and her replying with a polite screaming "SHUTUP!!!" she advises me she wants to pay for it herself instead of going through insurance. I'm fine with this. But upon consultation of my witness, he says I might be able to just take an ordinary hardware store plunger and pull the dent right out. Apparently this is a secret weapon to many a body shop repair man. The paint isn't scratched at all, and I figure if I can do this, I can save both of us some trouble.


There is no way you can plunger your car without having someone take pictures of it. (Thanks goes out to Nikki. Ma homegirl slice. Word.)





First, I had to try to sterilize the plunger a bit. My car is dirty enough without feces on it. This is me soaping it up and doing my best to avoid touching it. Gross.

This is me doing my very best to get the best suction against the car door as possible.



This is me losing my plunging mojo. As you probably would have guessed, it didn't work.

So...anyone know a good auto body shop in Edmonton?

Spring In Edmonton

This is a cell phone picture I took from my bus on the way to work on this lovely late-April morning. That is, after I walked to the bus stop, slipped and fell on my hands and knees, froze at the bus stop for 45 minutes waiting for a bus that was, coincidentally, 45 minutes late, and froze at my transfer bus stop for another 20 minutes. Oh, I also had the priveledge of listening to someone's crappy music while snuggled tight against strangers in the bus shelter. What is with those crappy ear phones that come with ipods that make it so that not only the listener but everyone around them has to deal with their poor taste in music? That is, unless my ipod is on. Because we all know how wonderful my taste in music is. *Lorraine hopes anyone who knows that she has a song from the movie Cinderella in her itunes is not reading this.*

Let's all try and ignore the fact that it was 24 degrees out a week and a half ago. Which just happened to be on my birthday. Being as it snowed the next day, logically, the only way to make sense of what happened is to deduct that it was a birthday miracle. And Edmonton weather is spawned by the devil.

Toronto, Kyle Wellwood, Sushi, Shoplifting, and Darrin Pfieffer. Good Weekend.

This past Thursday night, at approximately 9:38 pm, an insatiable urge to have a night out in Toronto hit me, and hit hard. So I called up my Toronto friend who lives right downtown and asked what he was doing the next night. I soon figured out he was at the pub due to how long it took him to put words together. But he assured me he wasn't drunk and we finally concluded that I would visit and we'd go out and do something. Friday night I called again to confirm and he said "I wasn't sure if I'd dreamt that conversation or not." Never make plans with a drunk person. Although the view from his condo is enough reason to forgive him:


Before I drove to Toronto, I stopped by to see Laura who was home sick in bed. She was supposed to have a roller derby bout the next day (also her birthday) but her doctor thought she had mono, so she couldn't play. Well, she could, but not without the risk of rupturing her spleen. Spleens are unpleasant enough when they are intact. Also, Kyle Wellwood, her all time favourite Maple Leafs player (who she is also in love with) was supposed to be signing autographs at the new Future Shop in Erin Mills the same day. While she was lying down, I snuck into her closet and stole her Wellwood jersey, and two pictures she had of him. Thankfully she didn't notice. The next day I got them signed and took a video clip of him wishing her a happy birthday/hoping she feels better. I burned it on a cd for her, along with some pictures I took of him. Here is the video of Wellwood: (please note his enthusiasm)

http://www.motionbox.com/video/player/359cd9b1181dbe



Now here is the video of Laura opening my present, which I enjoy much more than the previous video. I missed the part where she first figured out what I had done but got most of the surprise in:

http://www.motionbox.com/video/player/359fd7bd1a1ebe


Other notable parts of my weekend:

• Tried sushi for the first time and gagged. Although I do like sakki
• I accidentally stole a camera lens cleaner pen from Future Shop. But I felt so bad that I had mindlessly walked out of the store with it that I went back in and paid for it, after a good five minute internal moral debate
• Two words: Home Movies.
• Apparently Darrin Pfeiffer from Goldfinger thinks I'm hot. GREATEST COMPLIMENT EVER. Although I think he might need glasses...
• Dawn is working at 102.1 the Edge and I am JEALOUS. But it was awesome seeing her again. But I am JEALOUS.

You can't lose something you never had...such as my mind

It's been seven years.

I started working there the summer before high school and worked every subsequent summer.

Six months out of high school I was hired full time and stayed for a year and a half.

Now I'm back working there for a few months.

During my first summer there, I was too terrified and shy to eat with the "adults" and would eat my lunch huddled away in a corner of my dad's office. But I quickly made friends with them and started eating in the kitchen.

The cupboard containing the glasses and mugs is right next to the cupboard containing the plates and bowls.

It's been seven years.

And when I need one of these items...

...I STILL go to the opposite cupboard to retrieve it.

Every time.

Antonio Wants Some Pringles

I admit it, in the past I have met people off of the internet. But before I ever met anyone in person, I would talk to people who lived far away and just chat over the internet or phone if I felt comfortable.

Antonio is one of these people.

When I first "met" him about five years ago, he was living in New Jersey and part of a band that was on the edge of making it big. I still have their CD. They traveled around the country in a school bus that he owns, but scratched off certain letters to make it say "Cool Bus" instead. He's a bit older than me, but a big kid at heart. And he knows WAY too many people. And he cracks me up.

Today I got to catch up with him for the first time in two years, and it's always like no time has gone by since we chatted. He still lives in New Jersey, but quit the band to pursue his own stuff. Now he works for the company that distributes Pringles doing audio editing, and is soon to be the star of a television commercial. He sent them this video which they recently decided to air as an official commercial during American Idol.

(The embed version isn't working for some reason, so you'll have to click on this link to view his ridiculous pringles commercial. It's worthwhile, trust me.)

http://www.jinglesforpringles.com/jingle/8/

Whether we will see it in Canada or not, I do not know. But watching it here is more than enough for me! Oh Antonio, you silly monkey you. What will you be doing in another two years??

Friday Night Frivolity

Cambridge is only good for three things, as far as I can tell: A) My best friend Diana lives there B) Dooley's C) It is home to one of the few remaining roller rinks that seem to be quickly disappearing. (RIP Roller Gardens...we miss you.)

The plan tonight was to participate in all great three things Cambridge has to offer. Unfortunately we were only able to participate in two. Dooley's, I know your feelings are hurt, but we WILL visit next time. Yes...there will be a next time.

We met Diana at a pub (we = Laura and her new boy, Dave and Paul and myself of course) where it didn't take me long to tell Diana's fellow midwife how Laura used to mix up 'labia' and 'tibia'. Someone would kick her in the shin and she'd go "OWWWW, MY LABIA...." Laura corrected me and said it was actually the other way around...someone would kick her in the crotch and she'd say "OWWWW MY TIBIA...." I think it's equally funny either way.

Actually, Laura had a few good quotes from tonight. Must have been trying to impress her new guy:

"C'MON GUYS, we're only going to have TWO HOURS left to skate!"
"I like green tea. It has antibodies." -Laura
"...you mean antioxidants?" -Me
"...........yes. Those." -Laura

Roller skating is a scary business for me...there are always those annoying people that try to squeeze in through some tiny space between you and the person next to you and give you a heart attack. There are also these crazy old people there that are remarkable skaters. One almost killed me when I was moving to the side to see Dave and Paul. While singing The Spice Girls. Yeah, it was retro night...which pretty much translates into guilty pleasure music. Rock on.

My favourite part of the night was when we were driving home. Dave and I somehow decided to start answering every question with true or false. Then it expanded to countries. Personally, I just want to answer "penguins" to every question someone poses to me. Examples:

"How are you feeling today?" "False."
"What are you having for dinner tonight?" "Algeria."
"Where did you get your sweater?" "Penguins."

Just a heads up: these answers will be used. And whether you think they are funny or not, I will be laughing at them.

Sharing With Family

Sometimes my brother Darren and his wife Larissa will stay at our house when they are visiting in town. If I'm not home, they'll stay in my room. Such was the case the weekend I got home from Victoria. They picked me up from the airport and we all went home where my dad was throwing a birthday party for my mom and had invited lots of friends and family. (I stopped to pick up flowers for her, but they had no birthday cards to go with the flowers, so I got her a "with deepest sympathy" card instead.) After mingling for awhile, Darren, Larissa and I eventually ended up watching DVDs in my room, as is usually the case when avoiding excess people downstairs. As I started to unpack, Larissa said to me

"Oh by the way, I borrowed your deodorant while you were
gone."

"Oh. That's ok. You know, a lot of people have issues with
that but it doesn't bother me. I'm pretty sure you don't have rampant body odor or anything."

"Yeah, I didn't think you would care. If I thought you
would, I just wouldn't have told you."

Gotta love family honesty.

Random Excerpts From My Diary During My Trip To Victoria

• Holy crap, this pen is very glidey-like. Weeeeee...
• I'm going to try to write really neat. Actually that was me trying right there. And it's just as messy as my fast normal writing! Ridiculous.
• I watched The Office and Scrubs and The Simpsons on the plane. Satellite TV: God's gift to planes. And us.
• A moment from The Office: How to take off a bra according to Michael Scott: Twist until something breaks
• I keep meaning to write this and I kept forgetting: Ahem. 'Remarkably, there was an incredible lack of snakes on my plane.' I'm glad I finally got that out.
• Steve dragged himself out of bed for me so we could go swimming, even though he was tired and forgot his bathing suit. We had to invest in a disposable one. Who ever heard of disposable bathing suits!? He was very reluctant to get into the blue plasticy contraption, but he did. It wasn't long before the outer layer of the ass split, revealing some nice hidden white plastic. Thankfully we were the only people at the pool.
• Yup...I fly all the way here and now a predicted massive earthquake is going to ruin my vacation. If I was going to die out here, I thought it would at least be in a firey plane crash, or in the trunk of a car with my limbs bound in duct tape. Not by earthquake! I think it would be the understatement of the year to say that would really really REALLY suck.
• No earthquake yet. Except the tremors that vibrate through the ground when I walk because of the weight gain due to eating bacon and eggs every day.
• He put me on the radio. I was very excited. Then I got tired. The end.
• Favourite things we yelled out/commented during WWE Smackdown:
• Give him the chair!
• Have you tried talking this out?
• I like your pants
• Go back to Maine!
• I admire your passion!
• They should throw some alligators in the ring. Hungry ones. That have been poked with a stick all day.
• It almost looked like he made contact there.
• I wonder if Hallmark has a line of WWE cards? "I'm sorry I knocked you unconscious with the chair."
• Allen wanted me to bring a sign that said "kill the ref"
• "Honey, if you keep listening to this song, I'm going to start having an erection...around men." -Steve while I was listening to a Lifehouse song
• Watched the sunrise from my first flight in a semi-conscious state. Just before it broke over the horizon it illuminated a golden lining on top of the clouds. It was gorgeous. Then I closed the horrible bright morning light out and tried to sleep.
• I can't believe they made me check my make up bag. What, 'cause I might stab someone with my eyeliner?!?
• Is it weird that I like turbulence? It shakes things up...HA...*cough*
• "Can I ask you something?" "As long as it requires no thought whatsoever." "It's very serious...would you...eat...a blue canteloupe?" "Does it taste like normal cantaloupe or blue canteloupe?" "Blue. And you're starving." "Yes...yes I would."
• The remainder of this entry will be random thoughts. (Moreso.)
• "Andrea and Alan fed me." "Oh yeah? What did you have?" "A huge waffle...AND..." "...chicken?" "What? How did you know?? 'Waffle' is not usually paired with 'chicken'." "It's my mind reading abilities. And I talked to them earlier."
• I kinda want to spit out the window from way up here. (Altitude 37, 338 feet)
• We just flew over Lake Superior. Watery.
• "How long does 18 km take?" "Well, if you go 100 km/h, 18 minutes. No wait, that's not right. Let me get my calculator. 100/18=5.5 Ok. It's not five minutes." *a few minutes pass* "So what was the highlight of your trip?" "60!!" "What?" "60/18. Equals 3.3 Ok. I really have no idea."
• Solution for having to pee? Drink more water. IDIOT.
• Geez, what is this, Star Wars? Are we dodging enemy fire?? (turbulence on plane)
• This concludes Lorraine's trip to Victoria. This time. To be continued...(?) (The question mark leaves it wide open for a sequel!)
• "Goodbye Save on Foods Arena...goodbye Frank's Hardware...goodbye street I don't know the name of that we never drove or walked down..." -Me "This is going to be a long drive to the airport, isn't it?" -Steve