Creeper

I have a confession.

A confession which most of you already know.

Which most of you probably would do too. Don't judge me.

I, am a creep-a-holic.

Now - in the age of facebook and the internets and all of that fun stuff...it's not difficult.

Only thing is - I feel like a super creeper.

You see - I was all...this isn't so creepy..until I thought about it. I actively went out of my way to search for (and find - my skillz are le awesome.) the blog of the girl who took over my job last year.

Actually - it wasn't that difficult. I just like to make myself sound AWESOME.

Anyways - the first time I searched I tried to use serach engines..but when people don't want to be found..they can just click that little box that lets them be unsearchable. Boo to hindering my creeping. Boo I say.

Next - I just started typing in random URL's based on information privy to anyone on facebook.

First URL? Winnah.

Kinda scary.

KIND OF AWESOME.

It's so interesting to read about her life there and be like..OMG! SO IT WASN'T JUST ME! ITS FOR REAL LIKE THAT!

To know that the same challenges, frustrations and situations occur.

To know that I'm not the one who was crazy and ridiculous.

I want to comment. I want to be like..I've been there, I know. I know what it's like..and I'm sorry for being in a good mood, for having my rose coloured glasses on when I talked to you. As much as I know that she's enjoying the travelling and the adventures..the job part...eck...kinda sucks. But I can't comment or write..because I'm terrified that if I comment...she'll be like..WHOA! HOW ARE YOU SUCH A SUPER CREEPER?! AND then get freaked out and censor herself and the hilarity that comes from me reading her blog - lmao.

It's funny too..because as I go through her blogs..I'm like...HEY! WAIT A MINUTE! I WROTE THAT POST! I'M SURE I DID! I KNOW I DID! And I go back and find an almost identicle blog post about something that they did or said or WHATEVER and I'm like..holy CRAP! How is that possible?!

And then I get freaked out and worry that she found my blog and is just duplicating it.

Except that..well..some of the stuff she writes about didn't happen to me. And we travelled to different places with different people. But the job part? I'm pretty sure that she's probably plagarizing my old blog.

Well. Except that that one had super high security settings because I was freaked out that they'd find it or someone else would find it and be a super creeper on my life there.

You know, kind of like how I'm being right now.

Whoops.

Please Stop Taunting Me

Dear American TV;

Sometimes I watch you, when you're playing a show that is something that I think will be amusing, educational or otherwise mind-numbing after a long day. It seems like when I'm at my cousins house, I watch you more than I watch your Canadian counterparts and I'm not quite sure why this is because sometimes, you're kind of a rather big jerk.

I have to admit it - I have some beef with you.

For REAL.

Turns out I'm a little bit upset with you..because...well..

YOU'RE MAKING ME HUNGRY.

And hungry with cravings for things that I cannot have.

Why ya gotta be like that? Seriously - That's not so nice. Not so nice at all.

Every time I turn around there are commercials for restaurants that we've never had in Canada, or that no longer exist in Canada...and the excessive taunting is becoming a little over the top. When you continuously show me commercials for things like Olive Garden, I start to get a little bit annoyed...and after annoyed comes down right angry. Like fist shaking angry. And you don't want me to get fist shaking angry.

You see, I haven't been to an Olive Garden in probably 20 years...and basically forgot about their existence for a LONG time. I think that the closest one to here closed down when I was six or something crazy like that..

But now everytime I turn the tv on, and you're there...and it's all...WHA-BAHM - IN YOUR FACE! OLIVE GARDEN DELICIOUSNESS! WOOOOOOOOOT!

And my tummy is all..mmm...that looks soooooooooooo yummah.

And now, all I want, EVER, beacuse of YOU...is Olive Garden. And I have no idea whether it's actually decent or any good...because I haven't had it in six katrillion years. ACTUALLY. And who remembers whether or not something was good six katrillion years ago. Not me, that's for sure.

Now you have left my cousin and I in quite the situation. We're continuously talking about how we need to drive over the border and find ourself an Olive Garden to fulfill the craving, or at least verify whether or not it's any good. We kind of hope that it's not..so that we can come back to Canadialand and never crave it again. Just so we don't feel the need to roadtrip to the States everytime we see one of those stupid commercials because we're slaves to advertisments and giant conglomerations. That would probably become super expensive, not to mention super-duper time consuming...and generally not such a good life plan.

So long story short - I'm pretty mad at you and I don't know if our affair of mind numbing television can continue if you and your advertising continue to get the best of me.

You should probably stop being such a jerk, so that we can be friends again. There are three options I can think of so that I act can go back to watching random shows on your stations (each with their own ridiculous forms of entertainment education). You either need to build an Olive Garden nearby, deliver Olive Garden directly to my door OR stop showing mouth watering commercials 24/7

If you could get all over that, I'd really appreciate it.

Love, Erin

Literacy & Exhaustion

I am not a morning person. I'm just not. When I get in a routine and a schedule (see: going to bed at a decent hour and getting enough sleep) I can tolerate mornings..but I still don't like them. I especially don't like mornings on the weekend though..because weekends are supposed to be for sleeping and being lazy...and not for being awake and productive and a contributing member to society...nuh uh I say.

All of this is made a little bit funny sad ironic by the fact that during the summer...I'm up somewhere between 4am and 5am each and every Saturday from June --> October. Saturdays are early mornings...it's just a fact of life when you're living and working on a farm. Come November though? Saturdays are supposed to be glorious sleep in days.

Ha - at least that's what I thought.

Then I took up a job tutoring a little girl that I know and so far..it's been really fun. We've now set up a regular day and time to meet..so that's kind of nice because it just ensures continuity...but it kind of sucks that the regular time is 9am Saturday mornings. Sure it allows me to get on with my weekend right after that..but...uhh...Saturday? Saturday MORNING? Ew.

Alas...it is what it is. And that's b-r-i-g-h-t and e-a-r-l-y folks. And of course by the time I get there I feel like a zombie because my body is like...SATURDAY MORNING! SLEEP! WHY ARE YOU AWAKE AND ATTEMPTING TO FUNCTION! SLEEEEEEEP!

And the little girl is like this:
ERIN!YOU'REHERE!WHATAREWEDOINGTODAY?!DIDYOUKNOWTHATWHENYOUPUTTHE'E'ANDTHE'A'BESIDEEACHOTHERINAWORDTHEYMAKEAN'EEEEEEEEE' SOUND?!
COOLEH!
YOUTAUGHTMETHATLASTWEEK!
WHATAREYOUGOINGTOTEACHMETHISWEEK?
CANWEPLAYTHEGAMEILIKETOPLAYWITHTHEWORDS?
CANYOUCOMEOVERSOMEDAYANDWEPLAYPIRATES?
WHAT'SYOURFAVOURITECOLOUR?
ILIKEBLUE!
BLUESTARTSWITHA'BUHBUH'B!

And I'm like...Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Calm down there Peppy McPepperson...I'm excited that you're excited about learning..but FYI - It's Saturday....MORNING.

Luckily..my brain and I are on pretty good terms and it lets me stay awake for the couple of hours I'm there while we do some phonemic awareness stuff, practice stretching out some letters into words and play some games to help with vocab, phonics and a variety of dipthongs. When my brain is about ready to call it quits..it's time to go home where I can apologize to my body for waking it up early on a Saturday morning..and make up to it by having a delicious Saturday afternoon nap.

Oh - and just to confuse myself even more...this morning...I was all ready to go. I had my lesson plan and all of our activities planned..and I even had some extra stuff printed off in a couple in a few different areas on a couple of different areas (both higher and lower) in case there was a lack of concentration or some frustration happening and I needed to switch more than usual (like I had to last week..) and what loop was thrown at my tired, old Saturday morning brain? Oh yeah...just throw in an extra child for me to work with without any warning what-so-ever! No worries!

Luckily..it all worked out well..mostly because I was awesome and accidentally had double of almost activity I was going to do with her...which actually happened to be REALLY close to both of their indivdual literacy levels. I must have KNOWN on some weird deeper level that was going to happen. Even when I didn't have double the activities...I quickly converted what we were doing into a group activity that they could both manage...instead of something for one kid. I'm not sure whether flexibility is my middle name or if it's just awesome.

And yes, you may now call me 'the most awesome tutor who has ever existed and rocks the socks right off of everything'. I'd be okay with that...because...well..I even rock my own socks.

And on that note..I'm now rocking my own socks right into bed where I intend to nap for the next couple of hours. Ah delicious naps...whoever came up with the concept of you is a freakin' genius.

That should totally be somewhere in my next lesson plan....eh...I'll sleep on it.

"Someone"

You know "someone" is way too use to being the driver when:

"Someone" is at some sort of an event which requires that ve-hic-le transportation.

Probably because "someone" lives in the middle of nowhere.

This may or may not be an artsy fartsy sort of event that "someone" was attending.

(I don't know why I felt it was impertinent to this story to include what event "someone" may have been at...since where "someone" was has absolutely nothing to do with anything to do with this particular story.)

ANYWHO.

So this "someone"...was waiting around in the lobby for the friend she was with to return from the washroom. While she was waiting she did what any car driver does as they're about to leave a place and head back to their car...she got out her keys, made sure she knew where they were and put them in her coat pocket for easy access once she arrived in the general vicinity of her car. This was done to ensure that jumping in the car and getting out of the cold could be done as soon as possible.

Because nobody likes to wait around while the driver searches for their keys, especially in Canada, in the WINTER. Duh.

As the evening wound down, "someone" and her friend said their goodbyes and then left this artsy-fartsy event...walking back to the car so that they could return home.

As they walked into the car park.... "someone" pulled out her keys and clicked the 'unlock' button and watched as the headlights flashed and the car unlocked.

Then "someone" stood there staring with her mouth agape at the car...wondering how the heck she'd opened up someone ELSES car.

Then "someone" wondered where HER car was and why it wasn't unlocking.

Then "someone" started looking around the parking lot like a fool...and it was only then that "someone" remembered that she hadn't driven to said event and was merely a passenger standing in a parking lot wildly flailing about, clicking her remote unlock car thingy while "someones" friend looked on with mild curiosity, a hint of amusement and a slight nuance of worry.









PS - I don't want to give it away or anything...but I MIGHT be one of the two people talked about in this story...and I'll leave you with that...you can decide whether or not you think I'm the idiot or the person watching the idiot...the call is all yours.

Drywall Demeanor

We live out of the city - which means that when you're going INTO the city, you need to make sure you're getting everything you need, want or desire because you're not necessarily going back right away, and there is no point making extra trips when a single round trip is upwards of an hour or more round trip - just to get in and out - that's not even including the time spent doing whatever you need to be doing. Or the time spent in traffic. Or stopping for Ride programs. Or time spent behind some idiot going 20k below the speedlimit. Or you know, the other hilarities life might decide to throw your way.

So before heading into town...I always try to ask if there is anything people need me to pick up or do and remind them that I have my cellphone if there is anything that they think of that I can pick up while I'm in town doing errands or visiting friends or what have you.

Today as I was about to start heading back home, I got a phone call from my Dad, who is keeping busy working away putting the kitchen back together again. Turns out, he needed something and wanted me to pick up some more mud stuff for drywall - and of course I obliged.

Well, let me clarify.

After a few minutes of him trying to describe what he wanted me to pick up for him he eventually told me that he'd call and get them to get it all ready for me. He then gave me some very exact directions as to how to get there, which door to go in and the people I should talk to in the department I needed to go to....and THEN I was of COURSE able to oblige.

Anyway, so I showed up thanks to the precise directions and told them who I was and what I was looking for...and the man sort of looked at me, laughed and said so you're stuck doing the errands today eh? har har har. I sort of laughed a little and was like..yep..that's me..the gopher.

But then another man that worked there walked by and was like So you're the gopher doing the errands today eh?! Somebodys putting you to work eh! Har har har and I just nodded and smiled my sweet, innocent slightly confused smile and continued waiting.

After I signed some paperwork to put it on my Dad's account the guy pointed me in the direction of the warehouse I needed to go to pick up the stuff I needed.

I showed up, I showed the guys my papers and he was like....someones got you doing all the running around picking stuff up today eh! ha ha ha!

And I was like..uhh..yeah.

And then another man came out and wouldn't let me carry the stuff to my car...even though I assured him that I was quite capable of carrying a measly fifty pound box of stuff, he flat out refused to let me carry it and carried it all the way to my car for me and told me to have a good day now, and to make sure I had someone to carry that big heavy box out of my car for me at home.

It seems that they all were completely and totally convinced that I was a little incompetent girly girl and that there was no way in hell that I would be buying drywall material...for myself.

I really don't know what gave them that impression.

Okay - so I'm not a guy.

And granted, I didn't have any drywall dust and muck all over me.

And I have to admit, I'm not the most adept about all of these things - but all I had to do was ask for one thing...it wasn't rocket science. And I don't think that I messed up....but I just couldn't figure it out - why were they ALL so very convinced that I this little ditzy girl that only ran around doing errands?

After thinking about it for a little bit...I figured that it was probably the fact that I had forgotten my truck at home and was driving my car. Which subsequently was the only car in the parking lot filled with trucks.

But it's not like I was dressed in a completely impractical but oh so cute pea coat, pashmina and ballet flats in the middle of January in Ontario or anything.

Definitely not. I mean, I wouldn't do that EVER. Let alone at a building supplies store.

Yeah, it definitely MUST have been the truck thing. Oi.

Bites of Heaven

One of my Swiss girls sent me an email today.

The one who co-incidentally was from the same small town that I am from. It's funny, because despite knowing multiple people in common and frequenting similar coffee shops/restaurants/farmers markets/stores/etc. we'd never met here, back home.

Instead, she was forwarded an email from me that I'd sent to a mutual acquaintance and already knew a great deal about my life in Switzerland before she'd even arrived or ever made contact with me. We were both shocked to find that we were from the same small town when we met in Zürich (and it wasn't until later that she realized I was the same girl whose emails she had read..ha!) because we co-incidentally both happened to stumble upon and work for the same, very small, aupair agency in a small suburb outside of the city.

ANYWHO.

She rambled on about what was new, how we needed to meet up and her plans for life for the next little while.

And then she started talking about things she missed, but mostly..she was talking about the Luxembergerli.


Jenn in front of the Confiserie Sprüngli at Stadelhofen



The delish luxembergerli in the flesh.


Oh how my tummy longs for them. We'd buy the worlds smallest quantities because A) We were super poor and they were super expensive... thus we couldn't afford any more than one or two on our salaries..ha. B) If you bought more than one or two you'd end up eating them all. In a matter of a very short period...and then you'd explode. And you'd probably think that it was still worth it...because yes, they are THAT good.

At this point, I just couldn't help myself. I turned into Pavlov's dog...and basically started salivating while reading her email. She talked about how she missed them so much and how she was so tempted to order some off of the internet once she had enough money. I had tried for so long not to think about them. I'd thought about the kids, the mountains, the cheese, the trains, the views, the chocolate, the music, the 200 dollar bills that made you feel rich...but I had refused to let myself think about the luxembergerli.

So what did I do?

Your darn right I went directly to the Sprüngli website and didn't pass go.

My heart did a double take as I remembered Swiss pricing. But then I remembered the sweet delicious taste of the luxembergerli. Their light, fluffy creamy inside..with their flaky yet not pastry-like outside. The way they melted on your tongue..and the flavours. Oh the flaaaaaavours. Raspberry, Chocolate, Vanilla, Champagne...Strawberry, Lemon, Stracciatella, Mocca, Lime - DOUBLE CHOCOLATE. The list goes on and on and on and then on some more. You walk into the Confiserie and all you see spread before you is a delicious feast of multi-coloured bites of heaven. The strawberry rhubarb though? Yeah - they take the cake..or in this case..the luxembergerli. Just the right amount of sweet, just the right amount of tart...and an extra dose of awesome..just in case.

I tried to recover from the fact that they wanted 45chf (basically par with the Canadian/American dollar) for the SMALL container of the little bites of heaven. PLUS SHIPPING. But all my mind could think about was how much I loved them. How much I missed them. How just one little bite would mean I could magically take myself back there for an instant - So I recovered from my near heart attack..and I had almost stopped caring how much they would cost. I went as far as to go to the order page and fill out information. I wanted NEEDED one. And since I couldn't order ONE...a box would HAVE to do.

Until I realized that they don't ship them outside of Switzerland.

Grrr.

Stupid Switzerland.

Stupid Sprüngli

Stupid little bites of amazingly delicious bites of heaven taunting me from across the ocean with their perishable nature.

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.




..And just because I hadn't made myself swisssick enough already today..



The view from the house I lived in. The sun setting over the Zürisee..

The Opposite of Erin is...

My brother and I are complete opposites...and sometimes that's difficult.

We always have been, and I`m sure we always will be...it`s just the way that we are. Where I like reading, writing, shiny things and shopping..he`s more of a...save your pennys, i can do math, fixing things sort of guy. So far in our lives...it works out okay...we each do the things we like and since we`ve basically signed on to be business partners for life...that's kinda a good thing I think...especially since our roles in the business vary DRASTICALLY and we each need our indivudual skill sets in order to be able to prosper.

Sure, we have our differences....and I think that it makes it harder for each of us to understand the other and what they're doing sometimes...but that's life. Despite this...I think that we`re able to hang out and get along and manage to work together is because now that we`re older because...as much as we are different from one another...we are still very similar in our key foundational morals and values sort of way.

That being said...we're still very very VERY different.

I've always said that if he's good at fixing things...then well....I'm good at...breaking them. Opposites..yeah?

Need an example? Okay. I GUESS I could PROBABLY come up with one or two or a hundred gagillion.

So - last night I was all fiddling around with my laptop...when I noticed that some little piece of something had gotten lodged underneath one of the keys. Being the genius computer expert that I am...I was all...I can get this out..no worries.

So I was working away with various sophisticated tools (definitely not tweezers, a q-tip and a toothpick) to help me do this when suddenly...my ctrl key makes this weird breaking sound.

It doesn't look like that big of a deal - it's slightly askew..but nothing horrible..and then I gently nudge it to try and send it back to where it should be...and it REALLY pops RIGHT off.

Not good. Not good at all.

So I sit there for a good half hour fiddling with it and this little wire thing and these plastic bits (who knew keyboard keys had so many PARTS - they're KEYS for crying out loud.) in an attempt to put it back together..when I see my brothers fiance walk past my bedroom...she looks at me, looks at the keyboard and laughs - walks into my brothers bedroom and tells him that he needs to go help me...probably telling him what I doofus I am in the process.

He comes in, snip, snap, pop - and my computer is magically fixed and he leaves me staring after him wondering how the heck he did it.

Okay - So sometimes being opposites is just plain old awesome afterall.

Things That Go Bump In The Night

Our house is old. It's an old farmhouse.

In the summer..it's hot and sticky and there is nothing that you can really do about it.

In the winter..it's cold...and there is nothing that you can really do about it.

As we work towards re-doing the kitchen this winter...there are little bits here and there of newspaper coming out from the walls...that show you the insulation (or rather, lack thereof) which may have had some sort of impact on the flucuating temperatures of this house.

So in the summer...when people have gone to bed...if you keep your door open..there is a much better chance of air circulation happening and the room you're sleeping in cooling down.

In the winter...if you keep your down open while you're sleeping there is a much better chance of air circulation happening and the room you're sleeping in warming up.

Being winter..it makes sense that people keep their doors open when they're sleeping. Being the night owl that I am...I've sometimes stay up later than I should. This means that I go to bed long after everyone else has...and because bedroom doors are often left open so that they don't freeze to death because this is canada eh ...I feel really guilty turning on hallway lights to get to my bedroom because it usually means that the light shines into my parents bedroom and disturbs at least one of their sleep.

Sinve I've moved home...I've become a master of navigating throughout the house in the dark. It's not actually that difficult...and I usually manage without too many problems.

That is, before we started renovations.

And all of the stuff that was in the kitchen and all things christmas and basically the entire house..exploded. Everywhere. Especially onto the path on my way to my bedroom.

The other night I turn off the lights and started walking when suddenly I let out a screech and doubled over in pain. I limped back to the light and flipped it on...only to find that I walked right straight into (and almost through?) a chair that somehow got lodged in the middle of the path from the office to my bedroom.

Doh.

Next up? Eating so many carrots that my eyesight in the dark improves.

Or until I turn orange and explode.

Really...whatever comes first.

..And I said I wasn't science minded. Psh.

Definitions

On the ride home from the airport the other day..my cousin and I were discussing our degrees..or rather..the lack of use-age of our degrees.

She has a degree in Life Sciences. And after she finished this...she spent five years in South Africa getting her Veterinarian qualifications. She's now moved back to Canada and while her husband continues his education and is specializing in a specific vet practice, she's staying at home to take care of her aging father who suffers from Alzheimers.

I on the other hand have a double major in History and Psychology. Oh - and before you point out how virtually useless that degree from my perfectly respectable university is.....I also have a Bachelors degree in Education. Useful in the practical sense - I think yes.

Unless of course..you're me.

Because if you're me..then you still don't really know what you're doing with your life. You've got it generally figured out - at least until anyone asks you a question pertinant to the real world and your position in it - and then you just stare at them gasping like a fish out of water.

Now this cousin and I were discussing how completely ridiculous it is that people judge us for our choices. People who think that she should put her father in a home and get a "real" job. (I dare you to even try to spend a day doing what she does - seriously one of the most difficult and heart wrenching things to have to go through EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.) And of course...the people who ask me if I've secured a teaching position yet - and try not to gasp when I tell them I haven't even glanced at the job postings.

From the time I was a little girl...everytime I turned around..someone told me I would be a wonderful teacher. I was so good with children, I have so much patience....and on and on and on. And when I volunteered in schools, teachers would write my reference letters and tell me how I had so much potential and how wonderful I would do. Once in teachers college, my professors praised my ideas and gave me glorious feedback of my teaching abilities.

But still - I wanted more. It made me happy, I loved it..yes...and it was something I was passionate about..that I AM passionate about...but I just couldn't see myself doing that for the rest of my life...at TWENTY TWO. There were too many places, too many things that I loved and wanted to explore for me to settle down.

When I left for Zurich I thought that in a year I would come back, find myself a teaching job and settle down.

But something happened - something changed.

I realized that just because I had all of these degrees, that just because people told me it was something I was good at, that just because that's the way that I or other people had pictured my life path going...it wasn't necessarily the right reason to do something.

What it all boiled down to...was that how we each defined our lives wasn't dependant on how many degrees we have. Or what we're doing with them now..it's that we both feel GOOD about our lives and where we are..and know what we won't have regrets and that we are happy.

I've realized in the last year that maybe there are other things that I love in life MORE than teaching. That maybe there are ways to balance maintaining them all in my life...and maybe that's okay.

That it's okay to not base all of your decisions on money and society's value of success.

Because I'm happy where I am - I really am.

And nothing is worth more than that.

Chit Chats

Sometimes I talk to myself.

Wow. That came out sounding like I was a whole lotta crazy.

But I betcha just can't wait to read more and see how crazy I really am?

Can you?

Nope. That's what I thought.

You just keep on reading.

More and more and more.

Waiting and wondering when I'll ever GET TO THE POINT

But alas, I like to see you squirm.

Not that I can actually see you.

I don't have cameras in your house

I'm seriously not creepy like that.

What was I talking about again?

Oh right. Talking to myself.

Okay - confession time.

I don't have multiple personalities. But I do manage to do my best thinking when I'm in the car. And sometimes I think better when I think outloud. It helps me to unjumble my thoughts and put my ducks in a row. Ducks being my thoughts, that is.

So sometimes when I'm driving I'm sorting through things that I'm thinking..and instead of killing my own ears screeching along to the radio quietly humming along in tune to a little diddy on the radio I'm actually working out the thoughts in my head. Out loud.

So next time you happen to pass my car and it LOOKS like I'm singing out loud, or perhaps I'm using some new fangled technology to use my hands free device so that I can talk to someone on my cell phone....you can be assured that I'm not distracted by any of these things.

I'm simply having a good old chat with myself.

And I swear, it's NOT in the crazy way.

Well....not in the TOO crazy way.

I hope.

Local Idiot Award Goes To...

Reasons I Might Be AM An Idiot:

To start off...

The other day my car decided that it hated me. Or figure skating. I'm not sure. But it was definitely one of those things because you see, while *I* was driving to go see *figure skating* (see: one or the other - I'm telling ya) my car was all like...WHAAABAM - YELLOW LIGHTS OF DEATH!

And I was like....GASP! YELLOW LIGHTS OF DEATH?! NOOO!

So I did what any genius does while in gridlock traffic on the worlds smallest back street in my attempt to bypass the gridlock traffic on the main streets. I turned off my car. And then I was all like...Erin...you're AN IDIOT. Whatcha gonna do now if your car doesn't start again? Those ARE some yellow lights of death doncha know?

Lucky for me. The car started again.

Unlucky for me...so did the yellow lights of death.

I muttered under my breath. And sat there (in some lovely bumper to bumper traffic..) and damned my car. I figured that it MUST just be some little problem and it wasn't that big of a deal and no worries, we'd go into this skating event..enjoy ourselves...meet Elvis Stokjo (yeah we did.) and come back out and my car would love me and the yellow lights of death would have disappeared.

Just my luck..they didn't.

I drove home hoping that I'd survive and not have my car break down on the way to the middle of nowhere home which would mean that I'd be on the side of the road with no heat and no help and literally in the middle of NOWHERE. Luckily, I made it home safely, with no issues despite the lights of death glaring at me the entire way.

The next morning I got my Dad to make an appointment to have someone fix the lights of death and after making myself sound like a complete idiot (and having my Dad pass along my idiot-ness to the car guys), I refrained from driving my car for the next couple of days until they finally had an appointment for my poor little car.

As I went to get in it to go and take it to the car doctors, I looked at my dashboard..and were the yellow lights of death on? Nope. 'Course not. Perfect time for them to decide to play hide and seek. Right when I'm gonna go talk to all these macho car guys about my car and I'm pretty sure they ALREADY think I'm the biggest IDIOT who knows NOTHING about cars. Not that this isn't TRUE or anything..but I like to pretend.

So I'm driving to the place I get my car fixed...and I'm willing the lights to come on. It's the first time in my life that I'm like...heeeeeeey little yellow death lights...come out come out wherever you aaaaaaaaaaare! Don't make me look like a fool now! If I'm going to pay way too much money to have you fixed..you darn well better turn those lights on...OR ELSE!

Thankfully, I'm pretty good at persuasive speech..and right before I turned into the parking lot...BING.....the lights go ON. SWEEEET!

Normally...yellow lights of death..not such a good thing....but having them come on to make you not look like a fool? AWESOME.

So of course I rushed in and was like...THERE ARE YELLOW LIGHTS ON IN MY CAR! And the guy just sort of looked at me with the look that was like 'Uhh...good for you crazy lady'

And as if I didn't already make myself look like a moron? To make things better...turned out I'd mixed up the time when I was supposed to drop off my car. When I was supposed to have me ma come and pick me up and take me home. Yeah. I was an HOUR EARLY. Another genius strike in the idiot book.

Then I go to pick up my car...and the guy tells me that despite the light coming on and off..it's not really a big deal and c'est la vie...deal with it or shell out mass moola. I was all like...who doesn't love yellow lights of death?!

So I jumped in my car, and turned it on...all was good. Started driving and was like...man...it's cold. Turned on the fan for the heat. Nothing. Turned it off. Then turned it on. Still nothing. I'm at this point about a block away from the repair shop and freaking out that I've taken my car in to be fixed and now it's more broken then when I took it in. I'm starting to get all freaked out because HELLO...I live in CANADA..it's COLD and driving in a car with no heat..is no fun. Let alone if like..I breathe..and it gets all foggy..and then I can't see anything 'cause THERE IS NO HEAT. And didn't I mention that it's flippin' COLD?

Then I realize that I've turned on the fan. But did I turn on the heat? Nope. Forgot that one. Erm...I'd better stop counting the ways in which yours truly has proved herself to be an idiot.

Seriously...I don't even have to TRY. It just happens naturally.

Smashing Walls Is Fun.

For years, my family has been talking about re-doing our kitchen. Back in the day, before my father deciding to move to the country and take up farming, he was a cabinet maker. He designed peoples kitchens, made cupboards and made their kitchens lovely and beautiful.

We use to live in a cute little house on an adoreble little street in a city not too far from here. When I was little..my Dad re-did the kitchen and made it absolutely beautiful. From the little I remember, and what I've heard about it...it was their dream kitchen, absolutely perfect in every way. And shortly thereafter...we moved out to this here farm. Typical. To a farm where the kitchen hadn't been redone since sometime in the 60's and was redone poorly then. It's a typical farm house...where everything was just sort of a jumbled mess. Complete with the ugliest linoleum you ever did see on all of the floors. Oh, and when we first moved here there was a woodstove in the kitchen. It was big, black, constantly covered in sawdust. When it felt like it...it shot little burning specs out of it onto the worlds ugliest linoleum - which in turn, caused my mother to scream, run and stomp them out with her slippers. Leaving lovely little burn marks all over the already hideous floor. It was far from their dream kitchen.

So, after twenty years of maternal nagging waiting...the kitchen is finally being redone. Again.

And of course..the project that probably should have been redoing the cupboards and floor and what have you...has turned into this whole big production. Including redoing all of the wiring, moving plumbing, moving doors, windows, walls and instead of simply doing the kitchen..we're now ripping apart the entire laundry room, downstairs bathroom AND kitchen. And because we're farmers...this can't be done during the busy season (February --> October) so if it's ever going to be done....it has to be done..now. When the thermometer sometimes gets up to the single digits..on the negative side. When the wind is blowing a cold brutal wind, and there are a couple of feet of snow covering everything up. Did I mention that as of right now..you can see the outside..from inside. Where there AREN'T windows or doors? Fuuun tiiiiiiimes. Especially since we no longer have a sink. Or running water in the kitchen. And our stove and fridge are currently beside the dining room table. And our living room is filled with so much crap that you can't see the floor kitchen stuffs.

Did I mention that it was a balmy -8 today? Warmed up real nice so that my Dad could smash through yet another wall on the outside of the house!

I'm a real good helper, in case you weren't aware. I kinda like ripping things apart. And smashing. The smashing is just some plain old fashioned fun. But now that we're getting back into this whole BUILDING stuff thing..and putting things back together. Well...it's not quite my forte. Not like the smashing anyways. Unless you count smashing nails into wood to put something back together. Then I'm really good at that. Sometimes. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe. Okay, not really at all. Okay - so I'm REALLY good at putting them in on an angle. All crooked like. And bent in half. That and smashing...those are the things I excel in.

But at least I try?

And I'm sure I look mighty cute with my tongue sticking out of my mouth in concentration as I do.

Suzy Not-So-Homemaker

Tonight I got a craving...for rice krispie squares.

A craving so bad, that I had to have them...NOW. And not just now..but RIGHT now.

I have no idea why in the world I desired them so badly..but I did.

So I ran into the kitchen and dug around the kitchen cupboards hoping to find some marshmallows. There were none to be found. My heart was so sad. Then suddenly, out of the corner of my eye..in the very back of a top cupboard...I found them.

I questioned their best before date..but couldn't find one. Then, I wondered..can marshmallows even GO bad?

At this point..I just wanted some rice krispie squares...and wanted them badly..so I didn't even care...and started on my way to making them. Except that the marshmallows wouldn't really melt. They were going soft, going squishy..but just forming a giant clump of...whole marshmallows.

After a good 10 minutes of them not even coming close to melting...I was absolutely confused..and sad.

Figuring I had nothing to lose...I threw them into a bowl and into the microwave.

Did you know that microwaved marshmallows puff up like crazy..but (in this case) still don't melt?

Being my sad self still...I put the now puffy marhmallows back into the pot.

Discourage at my valiant attempt to fufil my craving...I stirred them some more.

Still..nothing. Just a giant clump of not-so-melted marshmallows.

Figuring I had nothing to lose..I dumped a couple of cups of rice krispies on top of the whole mess hoping that if I poured enough love and muscle into it..they'd still turn out.

They didn't.

Well, unless you count a block of marshallow coated on the outside with rice krispies a success.

Which, luckily..my audience of Charlie..does.

How does anyone manage to screw up rice krispies?!

...This coming from the girl who once actually burnt pasta to a BLACKENED CRISP which caused the fire alarm to go off. True story.

Wow. I'm impressive. Funny thing is...I usually can actually cook...I swear!

Nagging Nellys

If there is something that really gets under my skin more than most things..it's being nagged to do something.

To do...ANYTHING.

If it's a reminder of something I've honestly forgotten...then I have no problem doing it. If you're nagging me to do something..in all liklihood..I probably don't want to do it. I probably have reasons why I don't want to do it. And I probably won't share the reasons because I hate confrontation and sharing my true feelings. Oh, and I hate nagging.

I'm one of those people..who when nagged...I have the tendency to do the opposite of whatever it is that is asked of me.

For instance..my mother repeatedly bugs me to do something? Yeah, you can bet that it's not going to get done ANY time soon. And the more she asks, the slower it gets done. She doesn't understand that I HATE being asked to do things over and over and over again...and it seems that SO many people just don't GET that.

I have my own agenda..I have my own list of things to do that sits in my head..nagging me all day long..I don't need another person with their own personal list of things that I am supposed to be doing for them...and repeating that list every 2.5 mili-seconds.

Kind of makes me want to claw my eyes out to not see the notes, emails and 'friendly reminders', to rip off my ears just so that they'll stop mentioning it...and to procrastinate doing it even longer. Just to teach them a lesson that their nagging techniques will not work on me.

I paid attention during all of my psyc. classes..and all of my behaviour modification classes...and all of my teachers college education. I do not reward behaviour that I don't like..and thus..when people nag me, which I don't like...I don't give in. It may be me being stubborn...and it may mean that I'm a bad person..but because I'm not using my five years of university in any other way....I'll use it to flat out, without a doubt, refuse to reward this behaviour.

Even if it just means that I'm being a stubborn, mean, vindictive person.

Or, maybe it just means that I'm being a person who REALLY doesn't like being nagged.

Still Still Still

Still headachey.

Still coughing.

Still feel like a dump truck ran over me.

Still achey and painy. Oh wait, that might be from the whole mass amount of firewood carrying. That was so light it felt like feathers. And not at ALL a co-incidence that it coincides with otherwise feeling like gargabe.

ANYWAY.

Still whining and complaining.

..Still Sick.

Blah.

Woe is me.

You may now return to your regularily scheduled program while I go back to hacking up a lung and drowning my whiny sorrows in a would-be-delish-if-i-could-taste-anything homemade neocitrin.

Illness Illusions

I have been doing everything I can think of to not think of being sick. Of getting sick. Of sickness in general.

I have been drinking tea, getting lots of sleep (even if it's not necessarily as early as I should be - I am sleeping in and thus getting 8-10 hours a night) and ODing on vitamin C in the form of delicious, delicious holiday clementines. Oh how I love ODing on clementines and finding out that they're actually good for me and will keep me from getting sick. Or at least that's what I'll keep telling myself to allow my delicious addiction to continue.

ANYWAYS.

I've been telling myself that I'm not getting sick. That I refuse. I find that sometimes when I'm just really stubborn and don't give into the sick that's trying to wrap its greedy little hands around me...that eventually it tries its best..sticks around for a couple of days while I carry on my regular business and then leaves, knowing that when it finally slinks off to find another warm body to host its evil virus in I will laugh triumphantly in its face.

So I'm calmly ignoring this heavy tingling feeling in my bronchi.

Yes, in my bronchi.

Let me explain: A) Me Ma's a nurse. I grew up with entirely too many medical professionals surrounding me and thus know an odd, random amount of information about medicine and illness. No joke, this is the kid that once had a sore throat and told her mother that her esophagus hurt. and B) It's happened before.

I was perpetually sick in the winters of my highschool years with a tight feeling in my lungs and bronchi were an ever constant presence. Cold air seemed to make my chest seize up and then came the ever present seal cough. You know, the one where you sound like a sea animal barking everytime you breathe. Funtimes. My doctor gave me a puffer to use way back in the day..and although it helped a little..the effects didn't last long, and after a while..it really did...well..not a whole lot. That, and sometimes I'm a wee bit leery of a whole lotta medications and stuff. Just never have been all about popping a pill or puffer or any of that stuff..would rather let my body duke it out..and most times it works, and...so far...I can tell when it's not going to.

But, it seems to be back. And I'm coughing like a seal. And the tingly gross tight heavy feeling in my bronchi is back.

But I'm not sick.

And as long as I keep telling myself that...and of course...ODing on delicious vitamin C...I won't get sick. Right?


Edit

It's not five am. And I am not awake. I can't NOT lay down because laying down does not mean that I can't not get any air into my lungs. And no air into my lungs does not mean that I can't breathe..and not breathing means that I don't cough and not coughing means THE WORLDS HEADACHE IN THE WORLD does not return.

Bah. I hate NOT being sick.

Firewood Frenzy

Today I participated in such a Canadian stereotype.

And no, I did not use a serviette after eating poutine on my chesterfield.

Instead...I climbed into my long johns and collected wood for the evaporator.

Translation: I turned myself into a lumberjack to get some wood for the fire to make maple syrup in the spring.

After fighting off a blinding headache this morning...I was back to my normal self this afternoon, so I spent the afternoon running around the farm helping my brother to collect firewood for the spring when we make maple syrup. My brother Ben and I are what you call...umm..opposites. We're not EXACTLY a like in such obvious ways. He's good at building things and machines and fixing things. Whereas...I'm good at..uhh..breaking things for him to fix.

So, I jumped in and did my best to help. I used my massive strength to carry huge trees as if they weighed nothing. I scaled rock fences in search for more wood like it was nobodys biznaz. I stacked wood like I've been doing it since I was a baby. I even drove a MANUAL TRACTOR.

Okay, I may be slightly exagerating. I used my strength to carry huge trees as if they weighed as much as...huge trees. I huffed and puffed and pulled and tugged until I got them out of the brush and into the open where they could be cut up into smaller more manageable (but still H-E-A-V-Y) pieces. I may have also been distracted picking up what I thought could have been a-okay firewood..which I quickly got the 'Erin, we're looking for FIREWOOD, not MATCHES' look from my brother as he pointed further down the field to where some giant dead trees awaited us. I may also have not so much...SCALED...as stumbled and scrambled up, around and...uhhh..down rock fences. Where the rocks may have beaten me up like it was nobodys biznaz. I stacked wood like someone would if they had no idea what they were doing...and let Ben take over that job and took to lifting it off the trailer and handing it to him instead. Hey, it's important..if no one handed it to him..he'd like, have to do it HIMSELF or something.

But the driving the tractor thing...I did. That, I'm not exagerating. It wasn't that the particular tractor was EASY or anything..I'm just AWESOME. And maybe a little bit that the gears had picture guides on them. If all cars had gears that were 'turtle', 'person' and 'car' on them for 'slow', 'medium', 'fast' - I'd TOTALLY know what to do. For those of you who know me..you know that this is kind of a big deal. I had a hard enough time learning how to drive an automatic car...the thought that I could ever be driving a tractor..let alone a MANUAL one..that's HUGE.

It didn't hurt that I had a teacher who actually had some patience and understanding and despite the fact that this stuff doesn't come naturally to me..he sat there patiently showing me how to work the clutch and explaining it to me in lamens terms why it works and how it works and making sure that I was getting it. Those are the best kind of teachers :) It's just funny to watch as we grow up and become responsible adults who can work together, and better yet..teach each other how to better ourselves. As I watch my brother grow up..I see so many qualities in him that I admire..and I see so much of my Dad in him and it just makes me really happy to see the person that he's becoming.

It really was amazing to me how much we've grown up...that we can work together and get things done..and amazingly..still be on speaking terms when we're done. It's not often that we work so closely together in our daily lives, even though we're both here working away on the farm. Our skill sets are just so different that we're both busy doing different things that we're good at..but spend little time actually working together to get something done 'round here. So when we do work together..I think that a lot of time we're destined to clash because we ARE so different in a lot of ways that it's harder to see where the other person is coming from..but today really showed me that perhaps we are..growing up. It also showed me that I'm REAL glad we don't heat our house entirely with wood. Man, that's just crazy talk...getting enough just for the evaporator in the spring is hard work. I did one afternoon of it..and I'm pooped. I'm gonna sleep SO GOOD tonight!

So, I'm proud to say that not only did we collect a bunch of firewood to go in the woodshed..but we did made a dent in filling it up, he taught me how to drive a TRACTOR..and despite working with machinery, chainsaws and EACH OTHER...we both have all of our limbs and are alive and well.

A-Mah-ZING.

Bedtime Blather

I had a lovely little weekend.

What did I do you might ask? Well, here's a little summary:

* Got hugs & kisses * Napped on couch(es) * Ate candy * Took photos * Went for walks * Got fast food way too late at night * Had marathon chats with ones I love and miss dearly * Left my cellphone behind * Drank Timmys * Played with oh so many puppies * Went for chinese food * Forgot my camera at the END of the weekend..doh! * Went to the cinema * Ran into people I know from the past * Danced while baking pumpkin pie * Dug through the 'five dollah' movie bin at walmart * Diagnosed spider bites * Ate lollipops * Got a pup addicted to tic tacs * Giggled * Woke up to puppy dog kisses * Had rooibos tea that soothed the soul * Googled random things with others who enjoy the random * Squished way too many people (and dogs) into my car * Went grocery shopping which has turned into an adventure of its own kind * Had a shushi lunch date where the welcome is alwasy..enthusatic * Took too many pictures * Relaxed * Smiled * Loved *

I had a good weekend :) It was lovely.

But by far..one of my FAVOURITE moments of the entire weekend?

It was late and had decided to sleep over at my cousins house as I was planning on spending the next day with them anyways. So my cousin Edana generously offered to share her lovely and comfy bed with me! After we'd brushed our teeth and gotten ready for bed...we were both more awake and spent the next who-knows-how-long playing the bedtime blather game. You know, the classic girl thing. The one where the lights are off, you should be falling asleep..but instead you lie there babbling about all sorts of things. Your hopes, fears, and dreams. The things that you think are funny, sad, happy or just plain weird. When you're going to get your hair cut, why you can't bring yourself to eat liver and if we'll ever actually 'grow up' and figure life out - or whether that's a realistic possibility or just a rumour someone started to mess with our heads.

It's just so fun and I've always loved those bedtime babbles with friends and family alike....but I just love that last night it just happened so spontaneously and was just so random and silly and serious and...good. Sometimes it boggles my mind...and I can't believe how well the kids from my family, and the kids from their family get along. I guess I just find it odd because for the most part...we were raised in completely different worlds. My brother and I moved once...they moved so often. We always lived in this area, and they NEVER did. They've spend the last 6-10 years in Africa...and oddly enough..that hasn't really been optimal for us furthering the friendship that has always existed below the surface of our family relationship. Sure, if they're back in Canada we have a blast and go out and do things and get together and whatever..and when we went to South Africa to visit them it was the holiday that dreams are made of..and we spent so much time having the adventure of a lifetime.climbing up mountains and dipping our toes into oceans, eating warthog and ostrich and springbok, sliding down waterfalls, petting cheetahs, going on SAFAAAAAARI!, and of course, that pesky little wedding thing where I gained the best cousin-in-law ever known to man! I think that it was that trip that really cemented to me just how well our dynamics as a group of friends mix. Let's just say...that we put the six 'cousins' in a bar in small town rural south africa..and hilarity and laughter ensued...and I'm sure that they had no idea what in the world to think of us. This was of course followed by stuffing my brother and his girlfriend into the oh so small boot of the car so we'd all fit to drive home..while we sang along at the top of our lungs to the radio..enough to probably frighten all of the baboons living outside our cabins into hiding for the duration of our stay. It's just rather amazing that despite the years that span the oldest to the youngest in our little group of six (almost a decade! ahh!)...we all can find common ground with each other and get along wonderfully (for the most part - there are siblings involved too yanno! :P) and I've really being loving all of the time I get to spend with them recently...and even though life has been crazy busy and I wonder how it would ever be possible for it to always be QUITE this much FUN...I've been soaking it up while it lasts :)

So it was no surprise REALLY to me..that as the lights were off and our bodys were trying to wind down from a night filled with silliness and movies and sugar..one of my favourite things to do with friends just naturally happened. So until the wee hours of the morning...we giggled, shared secrets, discussed our lives and eventually fell into a deep slumber with smiles on our faces.

..Only to wake up to four eager puppies jumping on the bed telling us that it was already morning and time for us to get up and enjoy another day :)

Weekend Wonder

My childhood was a little different than most.

When I was five, we moved to the farm I now live on. This means that while my Mom continued working at her job as a nurse, my Dad spent his waking hours pouring his heart and soul into making this place what it is today. I can remember collecting sap to make maple syrup until it was too dark to see anymore, because that's what had to be done. I remember planting fruits and vegetables when we were all home. After school, weekends, after dinner..whenever there were enough hands to make it work.

Weekends to me didn't mean lounging around watching cartoons on Saturday morning, or shopping trips in the afternoon. They were filled with farmers markets and our busiest days of the week at our store in cottage country.

My summers in adolesence weren't filled with days at the mall, or even really days at the cottage. We try to make it over to the cottage (which, is luckily, close) after we're done for the day so that we can have dinner and enjoy a couple hours there....and as much as I cherish and love these memories...My summers were often filled with long days doing what needed to be done. My brother and I quickly learned from our parents how to pour our hearts and souls into this place too, each using our oh so different talents and skills to do what needed to be done.

My friends balk at my super-human strength (yes, I can lift lots of heavy fruit and vegetables at once, can't you?) I can chit chat with anyone about anything...and have an uncanny ability to remember faces and vegetables that people have bought weeks previously..and follow up with more chit chatter. I can drive big trucks and even back them up with some sort of accuracy. Sometimes. I know how to program cash registers and get them to work how I want them to work when they're being tempremental. I can multi-task like no other.

But taking weekends off? That's a kinda new one for me.

It was only last year that I got into the routine of having 'time off' and having 'weekends off'. Even though I only had four days off a month while I lived in Switzerland..those two weekends a month came to be cherished like there was no other. I counted down the days and hours until my 'weekend off' to zip off to Italy or France, Germany, Austria or Lichtenstein. (Betcha never been THERE!) I learned the value of weekends there. How lovely they REALLY are. And I learned just how much I hate hate HATE Monday mornings. I realized that while I do have days off at home..I seem to spend them running around doing things so much..that I had no idea how to do..nothing. Sitting on a beach? Who did that besides movie stars? You mean I can lie by the pool in the backyard for the ENTIRE day and there is NOTHING ELSE that needs to be done? REAllY? The art of relaxation escaped me...it scared me..and it tempted me with its laziness and generally lax attitude. And I loved it for that.

Sure, weekends have always been there...but going from school --> work and and work --> school and back again for the last 20+ years has made weekends kind of...wonky. It's made time off..a little known concept..and totally warped my mind of what weekends should be. Like the farm..there was always SOMETHING that COULD be done.

Then there was the fact that I was an arts student while I did my degrees...so I only ever had classes from Tuesday --> Thursday...which meant that I actually had more days off then I had school days. Which meant that those four days were either spent with friends wasting time and talking about how much work there was to do...or crunch time...when I had so many essays to write and exams to study for..I spent equal parts complaining about school work and equal parts actually doing it.

Now, once again...fall has come. Winter is on its way. The busy season at the farm has come and gone...and for the first time since 1988, I have not been in school come this time of the year. I'm doing some bookwork and other random things for the farm..but I'm not working very hard right now...and need to get my butt in gear. But, I do have plans for the weekend..none of which involve any sort of actual work.

Tonight I have a girls night with Rhi planned..where we will watch movies, eat junk food and play cards..and of course..chat each others ears off.

Tomorrow I am going out to lunch with the lovely Miss. Stephanie where we will enjoy good food and good company..chat about everything and all of the stuff that has been happening in our lives..and probably giggle about wedding planning for her upcoming 'do.

Saturday night I will kidnap two cousins, a cousin in law and their parents and take them out to a sort of surprise birthday dinner. They think that they're coming to our house for dinner but unbeknownst to them...we're taking them to a restaurant near our house that they've been wanting to go to since they moved back to Canada :)

Sunday we have a long walk planned..where we'll go wandering throughout all of the trails by the university campus...and then warm up with a hot beverage and a movie downtown :)

Sunday night..I'll watch some tv with my Daddio, catch him up on the weekend happenings in my life..and fall into bed...already dreaming of all of the lovely things that I might do NEXT weekend :)

Bonhomme

Even though I've been being a huge slacker around HERE, and I'm currently, for all intents and purposes..basically unemployed..it doesn't mean that I'm just sitting around doing NOTHING.

Take this morning for instance.

I was VERY productive. I watched Ellen. I ate toast..AND I let the dog out to pee.

Okay..and I did some accounting stuff. But that's boring. And frustrating. And I'm now updating here instead of pulling my hair out trying to figure out why cash register tapes from JULY don't correspond to the numbers they should and wondering how there can be so many screwed up things and why the heck asparagus was rung in as garlic. Those two things don't even come CLOSE to being the same...unless you make some garlic asparagus..mmm..yummah.

Now I'm dreaming of asparagus with a garlic butter sauce instead of doing anything productive..

Okay, I let the dog out to pee again..the productivity vs. lazy scales are balanced once again.

To be fair..I also signed up for a sweet seminar that's happening in December. All about organizing festivals and creating events...I'm such a huge dork..in the most AWESOME way.

I got super excited when reading the agenda which talked about developing networks, themes, leadership and success tips amongst other things! Life is a never ending exciting roller coaster of fun folks!

AND the email that said that while the public has to pay a grand sum of twenty-five dollahs..me, being the awesome specimen that I am...gets in free..SCORE! I'll just leave out the part where the business contributions made to the program last year by my dad MAY have had something to do with the free registration (AND LUNCH!)..and I will maintain that it's purely my awesome nature which granted me this glorious gift from the gods...I mean. Free lunch AND seminars on event planning? What more can you WANT IN LIFE?

Also. The guest speaker at the seminar? Her name is Mrs. Bonhomme. You know, kinda like the snowman at CARNIVAL. If that isn't a cherry on the cake of AWESOME..I don't know what is. Since reading the outline..I have not been able to think about the seminar without picturing a snow(wo)man being merry and jolly while speaking about events. Kind of fitting to be talking about events and festivals..when the Bonhomme de Neige is the mascott of the biggest festival in Quebec.

So you know that now..not only am I excited about a seminar for event and fesitval planning..but am basically counting down the days until I get to meet Mrs. Snowman and find out all of her insider tricks and tips.

It's going to be a holly jolly seminar. Details to follow...after I meet Mrs. Snowman herself. I just have to remind myself not to call her Mrs. Snowman to her face. Good thing I have 25 days, 14 hours and 26 minutes to prepare myself.

Not that I'm counting or anything.