Happy New Year to all my blogging buddies! You all put a smile on my face every day. May the New Year bring you love, luck, health, and peace in your hearts.

Happy 2007!!!

So, as you know, my parents took Alicia with them to Mexico before Christmas. On the second to last day, my dad had a few cocktails with some friends that were with them, and then proceeded to go outside and play some soccer with some local Mexican Kids. I think they were about 12 years old. Anyway, during the game, one of the kids stuck out his foot, and tripped my dad, sending him head first into a brick wall. He really smacked his head good...about 14 stitches good.

Like me, my dad is not a fan of going to the doctor. When I had 5 stitches in my eyebrow from a tip ball gone bad on the ball field, I opted to take those suckers out myself when they were ready. Now, Dad can't reach the top of his head, so he asked my mom to remove them. She almost passed out at the notion. However, when he asked me, I said, "sure." So today I went over there, and with some sterile household objects, I snipped and plucked until they were all out (I hope.) My poor mom in the next room, was lookin a little pail while I was doing it. My brother, who is visiting from Whitehorse with his wife, was also opposed to the idea of "home health care." It's just that it's so stinkin easy to do these things yourself!

Incidentally, the song that my sis and I wrote for Christmas had a verse that went like this:

(to the tune of Jingle bells)

Dad, he banged his crown
now he wears a frown
guess he learned that alcohol
can make a man fall down.
Hey!

So I happened to notice that all my blogging friends stopped by Alicia's blog to check her out. That was really nice of you all, thank you.

I'm having a hell of a time refueling after a busy Christmas. The mental and physical preparation is very draining. Now I have to get on the horn and return a bunch of calls from clients who didn't manage to get in before Christmas. I don't wanna. Is it too early to retire, and spend the rest of my days lounging?

Everybody I talk to is fighting off a cold or getting over one. My sis was off of work today with a soar throat and chills. Drew is complaining of tummy troubles. Hopefully, by new years, everyone will be ready to boogie.

I got a Christmas card today from my girlfriend, Donna, whose wedding I sang at. She even included a couple of pictures of me singing! I didn't know anyone took any pics of that, so it was a nice surprise. Drew was so busy watching and listening to me sing, it completely slipped his mind that I'd given him instructions to video tape it. So it's nice that there is some photographic evidence that I did, in fact, sing at her wedding. LOL. I hope you all have a wild and crazy New Years Eve, and a peaceful and happy 2007!

Happy Ho ho, everyone!!! I hope you all had a great Christmas and are now having a relaxing Boxing day. Man, that takes it out of you, eh?
Sigh. I got completely spoiled stinkin rotten yesterday, and we all had a fun, but exhausting day. We ate lots of yummy food and laughed a lot, as predicted.

I decided to just leave Drew's Susanne Summers rower in the box and let the chips fall where they may, and he surprised me with his attitude. After questioning me as to whether it was really the same one we saw, he didn't seem to care that much about the picture of Susanne all over the box. Go figure.

My sister, Sheryl and I wrote a Christmas song about our family members, to the tune of Jingle bells. It was funny, cuz Drew's Verse began with
"Hope drew doesn't mind
Susanne Summers' behind
He doesn't mind the leotard
except he finds they bind.
Hey!"

Anyway, too lazy to write a big post and upload pics, so I'll save it for another day.

By the way, if anyone's interested, my daughter Alicia started a blog of her own! She's only just started it, but she posted some of her art, so take a look if you like. She's at funkyblueeyes.blogspot.com

AAAAAAAAh, Christmas... I've always loved it and I always will. Is it busy and costly and stressful? Yes. But I'm a sucker for family and laughter and prezzies (I love getting them, but I especially love giving them.) I love beautifully wrapping my gifts in curly ribbon and glue-gunning cinnamon sticks and decorations in the middle of a big bow. I'll have to post a picture of it when I'm done. It looks so pretty under the tree, and I can't tell you how many times I've gone to someone's house and spotted one or two of these "gift decorations" somewhere on their tree. Gives me the warm and fuzzies.

This year, Christmas will be at my house, where we will start at about 10:00 in the morning. Sheryl makes one of those wife-saver breakfasts (yum-my) so we scarf on that with some bailies coffee or mimosas. Then we open prezzies one at a time (no diving in like animals, please) so we can see what everyone got and socialize. At this time I start just loading everyone up with 7 layer bean dip, and other appies. And if anyone wants a little drinkie-poo I will certainly be a good host and join them. Don't want to be rude. The funny thing is, nobody in my family are really drinkers, but I always want to have a couple on Christmas day. So usually I'm like, "C'mon, Sheryl, pull your head out and have a drink with me!" Nothing like a little peer pressure on Christmas! Fortunately, my Mom doesn't need much coaxing. She'll usually be game for a cocktail. LOL

So, anyhoo, after assembling everything that needs assembling, and a lot of laughter and talking at an extremely high volume, we all role on over to the table to try and cram in even more delicious food. And by God, every year we succeed! The de Konings are not quitters! And this year will be no exception.

I'm pooped.

Today I took a mysterious gouge out of my thumb. Then I bent down to pick up a towel and thrust my head forcefully into my cast iron shampoo sink. Then I wrapped a perm and opened the perm box to find that the activator that you mix with one of the solutions is empty. So I had to leave the lady with a stack of magazines whilst I hauled ass to the drug store to replace it. This threw me off my schedule so that the next clients, who were 10 minutes early, had to wait 20 minutes past their appointment time. While I was conditioning the lady's hair, I somehow splatter conditioner all over the salon wall, while trying to shake the last inch out of the bottle. It's a good thing my clients love me...It's a good thing that I'm so stinkin' adorable...but I digress.

I'm pooped

A wise woman (my sister) once told me, "behind every successful man........is a surprised woman."

I know, I know, that's a sexist thing to say. I'm deeply ashamed.

In other news, I'm frantically getting ready to send Alicia to Mexico with my parents on Saturday morning. Today I have to go to work, and then pick Alicia up from school so we can return the runners I bought for her and buy some that fit. Incidentally, I almost inadvertently stole them last week when I was wandering out of the store chatting with my mom with them under my arm. The alarm thingy sounded and I realized I was shoplifting. OOPS!

Then I must come home and dig in the storage for our luggage. Alicia's been putting a lot of effort into cleaning her room and doing laundry, so we know what to pack. While we're at the mall later, we'll probably finish up her Christmas shopping, too.
I've just been boogieing along with my shopping. While the girl is away, I'll be able to finish up completely. Then if I go to the mall close to Christmas day, I can point and laugh at people who are bustling around. After all, it is the season of laughter and good cheer!

Drew doesn't have a computer, so I'm not giving anything away by telling you this. We were at Canadian tire a couple of months ago, when he noticed this cool rowing machine on display that was on sale from $300.00 to $150.00. We both tried it and agreed that it was really affective. In the following months, he had mentioned a couple of times that we should have bought it when we saw it. So I filed that away until I was ready to Christmas shop, when I made my way to Canadian Tire to buy the rower for him. After some too-hoo and a trip to two different stores, I located the rower and asked the dude who works there to get one for me from the shelf. As he pulls it down, I realize that it's a Suzanne Summers rower which has her picture in a leotard covering one entire side of the box. On the other side are pictures of women using it in all different ways. Now I know for a fact that if he opens the gift on Christmas morning, it's going to put him right off if he thinks it's a "girlie-rower." Not to mention my Dad and two brothers will be there to razz him about it until he refuses to ever take it out of the box! So now I have to find time to assemble the damned thing so he doesn't have to know that it has any association with Suzanne Summers.

Sigh...anyway, better get on with it...

This is a picture of the snowman I made. LOL. It's too cold to play out in the snow for too long.

Some of my clients are so negative about Christmas. No decorations, no prezzies, no excitement about spending a great day laughing and eating with family. I know Christmas means different things to different people. In my family, some are strong Christians, who recognise the religious aspect of Christmas, while others see it as a day of family and giving in a non religious capacity. either way, it's a positive experience. That being said, I can't help but feel a little sorry for those who can only whinge about the crowded malls and the relentless carols, and the "commercialization" of the Holiday. Like, yawn, change the record already! You don't have to put yourself in debt to embrace the joy of the season. I'm a single mom, raising a teenager. It's not like I'm lighting a toasty fire in the fireplace with hundred dollar bills. Some years, when I have more, I splurge, while others that are a little tight, I'm more conservative. But do people have to poo-poo everything that's fun? To me, life would be such a bore, if we never had any Holidays to shake things up a bit. Anyway, I have the next 5 days off of work, so I'm going to shop, decorate, bake, address my envelopes, and chose to embrace the warmth of the season. Happy Ho ho, everybody!

This is the view from my bedroom window, people! Does this look like BC to you? Me neither. Can anybody tell me what all that white stuff is?!?

Very few people in our area of the world know how to drive in the snow. And out of these few people, only a small fraction have a vehicle capable of somewhat sticking to the road. No one prepares for such weather because we only get one snowfall a year, and sometimes it doesn't even stick to the ground.

Though I can certainly appreciate the delicate beauty of a snowfall, I am one of the many people who don't have access to a snow-worthy vehicle. So I'm pretty much trapped at home for as long as Mother Nature decides to blanket our land with snow and ice. Even trips down the street can prove to be a dangerous task. People drive like it's the middle of Summer. Not to mention, you get these geniuses, whose cars handle well in these conditions, who just assume everyone has control of their cars. So they don't mind cutting you off or stopping unexpectedly in front of you, because they don't have the foresight to predict the consequences. Like, say, the front of my car plunging into the back seat of theirs.

Anyway, It's a beautiful thing, as long as you don't have to go anywhere. Many schools are closed (not Alicia's, much to her disappointment.) Lots of people are home from work and in some areas there are no buses running. I really need to go grocery shopping. I guess it's Kraft dinner tonight...

So, as predicted, my mom wasn't pleased with the pics of her that I displayed in my last post, so I'm going to have to find a really nice one of her and post it. LOL.

Speaking of my mom, when I was younger, in my early teens, we went to the mall to do some shopping. We shopped often together, always stopping for a leisurely lunch full of chit chat and belly laughs. This particular day, we were crossing the busiest street in Richmond, at a crosswalk right in front of the mall. The light had turned from red to green and the little white man was displayed, so we, along with several strangers, began to cross. About halfway across, my mom's denim wrap-around skirt, unraveled, and fell loosely around her ankles exposing her silky white slip and a very red face. In the middle of the crosswalk, my mom quickly grabbed and tugged at her skirt, which had become tangled around her ankles.
Meanwhile, I being a young teen, was completely mortified! So I abandoned my own mother in the middle of the road, walking on as though I'd never seen her in my life! Bad...bad daughter!
Thank God, mom was wearing her slip! And that she happened to bring her trench coat that day. The light had changed as she was struggling, and a big semi was waiting to get moving. So to make matters worse, the semi began to make the loud bellowing hooooooonnnnnnk hooooooooonnnnnk that we are all so familiar with. Poor mom finally got the stupid skirt untangled, and off with no help from me. I was still pretending I didn't know her! Finally she had tucked the skirt under her trench coat, closed her coat, and escaped the dreaded crosswalk.
We laughed and laughed once she put her skirt back on and we went for lunch. I can't believe that, I hung her out to dry by leaving her on her own, half naked in the middle of the road, but I'm not here to sugar coat the truth. At that age, EVERYTHING your parents do is embarassing, so when your mom drops her laundry in front of everyone and a honking semi, you can't be held responsible for your (non)actions;)

I think I'm the worlds luckiest person when it comes to family. We always lived in a peaceful home growing up. My parents were more inclined to be silent than to fight in front of the kids, so we were usually blissfully unaware when they had their squabbles. My parents balanced each other out very well. I think, without my mom, Dad would have been extremely strict, where without my dad, Mom would have been extremely lax. Together, we had the soft touch as well as a healthy fear of getting into trouble.

Growing up, my brother Mike was my playmate. We would play for hours with stuffed animals, each one having a name, a voice, and specific connections and relationships with the others. Mike was both the smartest person on the planet, and the most infuriating. Sometimes I adored him, and other times I felt like I hated him, though we were never allowed to say 'I hate you' to our family members. My dad felt very strongly about that, and I'm glad he did. Some of the things I remember about Mike's personality growing up are the way he could tell you every detail of the movie he just saw, so that seeing it yourself would be a total waste of time and money. Or that, if he really wanted to get me screaming, all he had to say was, "Fat cheeks you stink" to me and I would fly into a rage! Look at how cute he was.
Gee, do you think I looked up to him at all? Mike has grown up to be a world traveler, a strong Christian, a musician, and a husband to my sister in law, Glenda. He is very passionate in his opinions, and is still just as cute now as he was with a puppet on his hand. Here he is with Alicia when she was small.

Dennis is my other brother. Ever since I can remember he has been an amazing artist. In face, I'm pretty sure my Aunt Ellen included in one of her posts, how he once used the contents of his diaper to create a 'masterpiece' on the wall when nobody was looking. He could be very hyper growing up, sometimes injuring someone with an arm that happened to be flailing around. Once, he was windmilling his arms and accidentally punched my sis, Sheryl right in the nose. I used to torment him by waiting until he was in the bathroom, picking the lock to the door with the inside of a pen, and sitting on the bathroom counter. He would sit there with a towel covering him begging me to leave so he could get up off the toilet, and I would giggle and refuse, loving the position of power I was in. Ha ha. weird, eh? Dennis was always good natured, and has turned his artistic talent into a career in animation. Here he is with my sis before I was a twinkle in my father's eye.

Now he's a hunky guy who takes an interest in healthy eating, working out, his job, and his friends. He's still good natured, funny, and like all of my family members, is genuinely a good person.


My sister Sheryl is my best friend. Though I made a pain of myself when I was small, she often entertained me with games and rides. She's seven years older than I am, so she used to do my hair, and bath me and stuff. I remember being buck naked while she was running a bath for me, running away, and delighting in the fact that she would always pretend that I cunningly escaped her. She'd chase me down the hall, grab me and carry me back to the bathroom where she would put me down and I would run away again. She would let me hang out in her room and listen to music and give me super-girl rides by laying on her back and holding my atop her hands and knees. The flight was always exciting with turbulence and the occasional crash landing that always ended in fits of giggles. We don't do that anymore. Now we have a friendship that we both cherish. It's funny how the age gap closes.

This was taken a few years ago. That's my beautiful mother between my sis and I. Sheryl has grown up to, not only be my best bud, but a strong, independent woman who I admire for her assertiveness and presence of mind. She is also hilarious and gorgeous.




My mom's gonna kill me for posting this picture because her hair is blowing in the wind and she doesn't like her forehead. I had to post it, though, because one of my favorite things in the world are my parents' smiles. It makes me want to cry to see them so happy. My mom is so sweet and gentle and has a great sense of humor. She is also one of the greatest friends anyone could ask for. My dad is strong and capable and totally lovable. If ever there was a crisis, he was who I reached for. He is super funny, too. My friends always wanted to come over when I was a teenager. They loved the atmosphere around our house.

Anyway, that's my family. They are everything to me and I love them with my whole heart.

Man it's rainy here. Grey, wet, cold in the way that you feel chilled to the bone. See, people think that living in BC is all pretty forestry and Ocean views, but lemme tell ya, it rains alot. That's why it's so darn green and pretty. Now I'm not dissin' BC. It is a beautiful place to live. But it seems like we get two seasons. three months of summer, and nine of fall.

Maybe sitting at Alicia's soccer game in the pouring rain today for two hours is still a little too fresh.
The game was at a community center with a band new beauty of a soccer pitch. The problem for me was the two grande starbucks coffees I had managed to scarf down this morning. I had to leave the comfort of my fold out chair, umbrella, hot water bottle, and blanket, to walk over to the community center to pee. Upon my arrival, I noticed that the place was closed. Duuhh, rememberance day weekend. So, Off I go in the other direction, pass my comfy chair, through the parking lot, to the gas station across the street, rain pouring, wind blowing, cars splashing through giant puddles. The little chinese dude who works there tells me someone has locked the bathroom key...you guessed it...in the bathroom. So I thanked the guy kindly, and made my way across the other street to the subway where I found what I, by this time, so desperately needed.

The journey was so stinkin' long, by the time I got back to my relatively warm, hot water bottle, I kinda had to pee again. By the time the game was over, I more than kind of had to pee. So we hopped into the car, clicked on the bum warmer seats, and went to Mcdonalds for some junky food and a bathroom break. Not in that order.



















Anyway...Long story short...Alicia's team won 3-1, and I'm asking Santa for a catheter for Christmas this year.

Went to Walmart yesterday and picked up some stocking-stuffers for the girl. She doesn't read my blog, but on the off chance she checks in, I won't divulge any privileged info.

I did treat myself to a nice, fuzzy, warm, cozy set of flannel sheets for my bed. OH! I love them. I've always wanted flannel sheets, and they are just as heavenly as I always imagined. Why can't all my clothes be made of flannel? Why can't wearing flannel come into style? I could start the trend, and when people point and stare, I'll just say, "You can laugh now, but next year EVERYONE will be wearing it!"
Kinda makes ya think...

Spoooooky Dragon Puppy ! Look at the expression on his little face. Ha ha! "Why are you torturing me?" He's such a good little dog.

Halloween has never been my favorite thing. There are aspects that I love and aspects that I hate. I have to admit, when Alicia asked one year if we could have Ernie and Bert pumpkins, I didn't think we could pull it off, but they turned out pretty good! When Alicia was small, trick-or-treating was great. She was so cute, and I knew that the number of times I would be able to take her out would be limited. However, it is usually freezing cold and raining, so we had to come up with costume ideas that she could wear a winter coat underneath. Then while she and her little friends were keeping warm running from door to door, I was trying to maintain feeling in my limbs. I have always loved putting together fun costumes for Alicia. We never went halfway, y'know. If I was gonna put in the time and effort, I was gonna come up with something great. Most of the costumes were even appropriate to wear to school...Except the one. After years of dressing her up as bunny rabbits, puppy dogs, and kitty cats, Alicia went through a phase where she wanted to be dracula and other scary stuff. I think she was in grade 7 when she decided to be a suicide victim. I wish I could find the picture, but I can't. I ran a wire through some rope and made a noose. When she put her head through it the remaining end stood straight up as though it was attached to something overhead. Then I painted her face to make it look like she's been dead for a couple of weeks, and pinned a suicide note to her sweater. It was so sweet! Sadly the principal of the school called her into the office and made her take it off. She said it was inappropriate. Why does that word keep coming up with me Anyway, I went to a party this year dressed as a disco diva. Drew was my afro wearing disco man, and our friends did the same. It was pretty funny. These are my friends Dilek and Daveen, and the next one is Drew and I. Don't ya just love his Saturday night fever ensamble? Here's Drew and Dilek's hubby, John, yucking it up. LOL! Anyhoo, I guess I'll get on with my day now. Hope you all had a happy Halloween!

The Many Shades of Alicia



This is my beautiful daughter, Alicia, who just turned 16 yesterday. I love her adventurous spirit. These pictures are of grades 8 through 11 and, as you can clearly see, she takes full advantage of having a hairdresser for a mom.

I just hooked up the new scanner that Drew and I gave her for her Birthday, which is why I am able to post these pictures. Oh yeah, I'm gonna get a lot of use out of this puppy. She also got a load of cash, some clothes, some really cool art stuff, and a stereo for her room. I still haven't planned a party for her and her friends. Usually I'm a little more on the ball and throw a great party at home, but I gotta tell ya, these kids aren't getting any smaller! The boys are freakishly big, but they are still young and sometimes get carried away. Stuff gets broken! So this year I'm going to rent a space called "The Fridge." Basically, it's a big room with ping pong, pool, foozeball, a big screen TV, video games, and other stuff to entertain them. Unfortunately, I'm not sure when it will be available. Still gotta phone and find out. Anyway, I'd better go make some dinner.

My sense of humor has sometimes been viewed as over the proverbial "line." I think I have that same impulse control mechanism malfunction that Sophia from The Golden Girls had. I think I've just always appreciated a good funny, even if it is a little inappropriate. (Especially if it's a little inappropriate)

When I was in Junior high, I think grade 9, a bunch of us were hanging out outside the school smoking and being "cool." I really can't remember why the vice principal, Mr. Scar, called me aside to lecture me on my sense of humor being inappropriate, but I'm sure he had good reason. After the "good firm talking to," he walked with me back toward my friends and, with one hand on his hip, began to address the crowd. "Okay, people! The school day is over. Let's go home!" So I, being the witty, charming, teen-aged idiot that I was, linked my arm through his, strutted beside him, and said, "Okay, Scar, let's go home!"

Mr. Scar shook me off his arm, his face instantly beet red. "That's exactly what I was talking about with inappropriate humor!" he barked, exasperated.

I can't blame the guy. I mean, hello, talk about displaying zero regard for a member of the administration, especially while he's asserting himself to a group of teen-agers. Somehow, however obvious that may seem to me now and about a tenth of a second after saying it, I still blurted it out! I didn't even call him "Mr. Scar." It was just "Scar." That's just disrespectful!

Poor bastard.

So, as I mentioned in a previous post, my parents are taking Alicia to Mexico in December. We all know that applying for a passport can be a time consuming affair. They really make you jump through hoops, what with the pictures, the guarantor, and all the documentation. I'm surprised they don't take a swab from your cheek to make sure you are, in fact, the child's mother. There is a certain satisfaction that comes with the completion of some errands. I went to the passport office last week, and after waiting only about half an hour, approached the cubicle only to find out that one of my documents was incorrect. What I thought was Alicia's father's original death certificate, which I drove all the way into Vancouver to borrow from his parents, turned out to be a copy. So I left the passport office, went home, and got on the horn to Vital Stats to order an original. Sigh. The document came in about a week, so it wasn't too bad of a wait. Every day counts, though, because for one, my Dad won't be able to stop asking me about it until he has it in his hot little hands, and for another, you just never know when some complication will extend the process. Best to get it done in a timely manner, so off I went, bright and early this morning, to get the job done. I got there before it opened, at 8:30 and there was already a line-up. Once they opened, we all filed in and took a number. I was lucky number 11. Can you believe I was walking back to my car by 9:30? It was painless! Anyway, now I just have to sit back and wait for it to arrive in the mail. Oh and I also have to write a letter authorizing my parents to travel with her, and make an appointment with a notary public to have the letter notarized. PHEW! It's good that the process protects children from being smuggled out of the country. It's just a pain in the butt.

This is a very naughty post indeed.

A few years ago, I was at one of our annual baseball icebreaker parties. I don't know why, but they scheduled the party on the same night as a very important playoff game. I, not being a sports enthusiast, was getting really bored with what was supposed to be a dance, but turned into hockey night in Richmond. All the chairs in the bar were turned toward the various TV's, and a few of my girlfriends and I were getting pretty antsy. It was starting to feel like you couldn't even stand up, for fear of blocking someone's view of the television.

After a couple of hours of what seemed like watching paint dry, one of my friends invited me and a few other chicks out to her van to have a couple of shooters and a change of scenery. We got out to the van and piled in, leaving the side door open for ventilation. The stereo cranked to capacity, and a couple of tequila shooters warming our tummies, the van party was reduced to a frenzy of giggling women acting like teen agers.

After a while, we noticed that, once in a while, a person, a couple, or a group of people would wander by our partymobile on their way to their cars. I don't know who would have started such a thing, but whenever someone walked by, we all began to violently rock the van back and forth, moaning, "ohhh. Oh, yeah! uh,uh,uh! Don't stop! Don't stop!" The reactions to our prank were priceless. The back window being tinted prevented anyone from seeing into the van, but we could see out perfectly fine. One couple shyly exchanged glances, and quickened their pace. One couple just burst out laughing. One group of guys pointed and laughed at one of the members running right up to the back window, cupping his hands around his eyes, and peering in, hoping to get a good look at some naughty behavior. It must have been such a funny sight to see the rocking van, hear the blasting music, and the moans of ecstasy reverberating through the parking lot.

Anyway, it saved our night from certain death-by-boredom, and frankly we served our fellow ball players by giving them some free entertainment on their way out!
Everybody wins.

Isn't this just the best example of the pressures on young girls to maintain a ridiculous standard of skinny? Just look at Nicole Richie, Paris Hilton, the Olsen twins, Kelly Ripa, and so many more women who fall victim to what they think society expects. admittedly, I have felt the sting of not feeling able to keep up to the Barbie's of the world. I just hope that in this day and age, Girls realize that it isn't normal to be skin and bone.


The reason this is floating around in my head is that I've been working out all week and am painfully aware of every muscle in my body. I've also started to look a little more closely at the junk I've been scarfing down at 10:00 at night lately. I won't lie and say that I'm not hoping to drop a few pounds, but I think my main objective is to feel strong and healthy. I'm 34 now, and my fitness level has dropped since I've taken up "couch sitting" and "channel surfing" rather than the excersise I used to engage in.


Surely to God I can find some happy medium between the above picture, which I would never want to look like, and the one below, which I know I don't look like, but sometimes, on a bloated day, I feel like (LOL):

I feel that this guy and I are kindred spirits. He really gets me. For some reason, I've had alot of trouble uploading pictures such as this to my blog. Also, why the hell is my side bar suddenly at the bottom of the page beside a large empty space? Also, this is the second time I've written this post. Yesterday I wrote it and it wouldn't save or publish. Instead, it disappeared forever! Anyway, the blog must go on... It was in grade ten that I was cast as "Carlotta Castanet de Santiago," an evil but flamboyant castanet dancer who used her feminine whiles to lure in unsuspecting victims of thievery. It was a fitting character... The part included singing solos, dancing, and a character I could really sink my teeth into. The only thing missing was a wide black belt that would make the costume complete. Where oh where would I find this coveted belt? I new just the place. It didn't take long to locate my sister's belt in her room, for I had been in there in the past "borrowing" her white, tasseled cheer leading boots, her sexy bathing suite, a cute shirt she made in home-ec, a kangaroo jacket, and much more. Sheryl looked everywhere for that belt. How could it just disappear, she wondered... It was closing night and we'd had a great run. The week's performances were sold out with audiences that were generous with standing ovations and laughter. I was back stage awaiting the opening of the production, freaking out about the fact that my family was in the audience and I had on the belt that I stole from my poor sister. My cast mates assured me that she would never notice from such a distance that I had her belt. Besides, I wore it backwards, so the familiar buckle was hidden conveniently at my back. All I could do was go on and hope for the best. The show went great and, after changing out of my costume, I emerged into the gymnasium to see my glowing family awaiting my arrival. They praised my and hugged me, and all the while my mind was on the belt. When it was my sister's turn, she squeezed me tight and yelled excitedly, "You were fantastic!" and then followed with, "now give me back my belt." She really could have ripped me a new one, but she didn't want to spoil my big moment, so she let me off the hook. I don't know why I didn't just ask her when I wanted to borrow something. I guess I just thought she was sooooo cool and didn't think she'd lend me anything that was cool enough to be hers. I think it's just a little sister's job to be a pain in the ass and I was very good at being a little sister.

Went to my friend Dan's Birthday party last night. It was a lot of fun, cuz my bud, Daveen, who is married to the Birthday boy, rented a karaoke machine and lots of CDs.

This is my sister, Sheryl, and I at the party. This was when everything was still dignified, before we were trying to wrestle the microphone out of each other's hands.

despite our plans to have a reasonably early evening, we ended up piling out of the cab and into our houses at about 4:00 in the morning. Sometimes time just flies when you're eating great food, drinking cocktails, sharing belly laughs with friends, and screaming shamelessly to all the timely karaoke classics! We had a variety ranging from anything from the "Grease" sound track, to the ever popular "Brittany Spears." I think I heard a rousing version of "Love Shack" and because it wasn't on any of the CDs, I entertained with a lively accapella (not sure how to spell it) rendition of "Baby got Back." There was also some very riveting, yet disturbed and angry interpretations of a few Alanis Morriset songs, sung by all the women at the same time. Powerful stuff!

So today was dedicated to having brunch with my sis, watching her tape of last week's "The Biggest Loser" and curling up on the couch with my crossword puzzle and remote. It takes a little time to recover from the aforementioned activities, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice.

After seeing Alicia off to school yesterday morning, I threw a load of laundry in, sat down with a bowl of mini wheats and my newspaper, and began doing my crossword puzzle. I had barely gotten started when I heard the cycle shift, and then the sound of water pouring onto the floor. Obviously alarmed, I rushed around the corner to find water gushing out of the machine and splashing all over the linoleum that had just been put in last November. Smoke billowed out of the back of the appliance, and I reflexively pushed the button to turn it off. I then pulled all the soaking, heavy clothes out of the washer, hoping that when it was empty, I could drain the damned thing. When I tried turning it back on to see if it would drain, it threw off large sparks! There I stood in 2 inches of water, my arms soaked to the elbows, marveling at the fact that I didn't just electrocute myself! My thoughts flashed on how close I could have been to meeting my maker for a second there. Anyway, I turned off the power from the breaker, and began the laborious job of mopping up all the water. I had to pull the fridge out, the dryer, and because of the drum full of water, I couldn't budge the washer. What a way to start the morning. This morning I took my garden hose, put one end in the washing machine, and dragged the other end outside. I then proceeded to suck on the end of the hose until the water began to drain happily out into the yard. Phew! Now I could at least move the machine and mop up the floor underneath! I had visions of my linoleum lifting and my damage deposit disappearing!
Anyway, now I have no washer, and Alicia hasn't done all the mountains of laundry she had after she cleaned her room. My sister generously offered to let me use her washer until I have the situation handled, but I hope to have a new/used one, like, yesterday.
Enough of my belly aching, now. I must go run some errends between clients. I'm working on getting Alicia a passport for this December when my parents take her to Mexico. Ola, amigos!

OOOOOH, I'm having one of those days!!! The good news is, I found my camera! The bad news is, it was buried under a pile of junk behind my daughter's bed! I must have left it on the computer table, and I guess it was in the way, so somehow, it ended up getting lost in this abyss of clothes, video games, controllers, walkmans, ipods, paper, garbage, pencil shavings...You get the idea. As I climbed over the mountains of dirty clothes, my fury rose at the realization that there were clean, still folded clothes intermingled with the dirty ones. Digging through the debris, I marveled at the ancient runes that I recognized from years passed. Clothing I forgot she had, 3 pairs of my scissors that she swore she didn't have, make up, nail polish, posters! The thing is, I've never been accused of being a neat freak, but how could I have raised a child with such low standards? How can she live in this dump? I know I shouldn't have started cleaning, because it teaches her nothing, but I couldn't help it. After shoveling a full garbage bag of trash out of there, I sorted 3 heaping baskets of laundry, and threw a bunch of stuff on her futon. The more I cleaned, the angrier I became. We just got new carpets put into our rental townhouse last November and there was make-up without lids on the floor, along with shavings from pencil crayons, nail polish with drips down the sides, dangerously close to getting on the carpet and more. Anyway, she'd kill me if she knew I was exposing her for the slob that she is, but I need to vent, dammit! So now she will come home, and I will send her to her room to finish the job that she will not thank me for starting. Until then, I think the first load of laundry just finished, so I'm going to soak in a nice bath. Though I know this doesn't need to be said, Alicia is the most beautiful thing that has ever come into my life, and I love her so much I could cry just thinking about her face. I just needed to say that since I just ranted about her throughout this post. by the way, I was going to put a picture of the city dump on the top of this post, but it keeps saying "error on the page" so I won't further frusterate myself by fighting with it.

INCH WORM


Remember these? This was like the inch worm I had when I was a little girl. I would hop on my inch worm and go down the street to my friends' houses. You don't just sit on it and push with your feet. You bounce up and down and the accordion-like middle moves you forward.
Once I was hanging out with some friends, when the boy whose house we were at suggested that we all go into the shed and pull down our pants. I must have been about 4 years old. He said that anyone who wanted to participate, should follow him to the shed. Well, we all went into the shed, where he and all the other kids, except me, dropped their drawers. "Sharon," he said, "Aren't you going to pull down your pants?" "No," I said with my arms crossed stubbornly in front of my chest. "If you're not going to pull down your pants, you can't be in the shed with us," he demanded. So I said, "WELL THEN, I'M LEAVING!" and stormed out of the shed, hopped on my inchworm and began bouncing on out of there. I don't know why, but the boy was like, "Okay, you can stay in here. Just come back!" So there I was, the only one fully clothed with all these kids standing around with their goodies hanging out.
Suddenly the door swung open and his mom was standing their horrified. She demanded that we all leave that moment and dragged her son out of the shed, up the back stairs and into his room.
As I climbed back on my inchworm and we all made our way out front to the street, all we could hear was the distinct sound of palm-to-bare-butt spanking and the roaring cries of our little friend. To this day I marvel at how parents back then handled stuff like that. I wonder what ever became of the boy. If I ever see him again, I might be tempted to remind him that my inchworm was bigger than his inchworm.

So I go to the mall today to treat myself to a few new articles of clothing. I walked out with $100.00 worth of facial cleansers and $50.00 worth of make up. For that kind of money, my skin better look like a baby's tooshie in a month! I guess I just figured, what better way to cling desperately to my quickly fading youth than to relieve shoppers drug mart of all the skin care products I can carry? I don't know if they work on commission there, but if they do, that lady has people like me to thank for her children's college education. Sadly for Alicia, it was my skin care, or her college education. I stand by my decision. Anyhoo, Big Brother is ending tonight. I am so disappointed that Janelle was eliminated, but I guess that's how the ball bounces. I can't stand how Mike Boogie is all kissy face with Erica, and then turns around in the diary room and calls her a "whore" with a "ugly long face" I would be so ashamed if I was his mother! It's one thing to play someone for the sake of the game, it's another to snuggle up in bed smooching, and then talk trash about her on TV. What a dink! It was funny, though, to see Boogie cry when Dr. Doom was voted off. Boo hoo..Sniffle sniffle... In other news, I've lost my camera. I was sitting on the couch with Drew a couple of weeks ago, and it had fallen off the coffee table onto the floor. So Drew goes, "Is that your camera? Maybe you should pick it up." I, being in a bit of a cheeky mood, just said, "naaa." Well, sure enough, now the damned thing is missing! Of course Drew is feeling pretty cocky with his "you should have picked it up when I told you" attitude, which makes it even worse! I've looked everywhere, and I don't want to accuse anyone, but Alicia's friends are always here, some of them I know, some I don't know that well. So now I have a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that someone picked it up and took it home. Now, I will probably find it and feel bad for suspecting one of them, but I can't help thinking it's possible. On a different note, why the hell is there a big space under this post? I can't delete it, so I'm just gonna publish it like this. I'm not super woman, y'know! (did I mention I'm a little premenstrual?)

BACK TO SCHOOL
You know, I've never been one of those Moms who can't wait to get their kids back to school. I think the fact that I only have one child makes it easier to enjoy having her around all Summer. People who have more than one have to listen to the kids argue and fight, so I can understand why they are so anxious for Summer Holidays to be over.
Also, I happen to be blessed with a child who allows there to be peace in our home. I see how some kids can be confrontational and defiant, where Alicia is quite easy going and so am I. Plus, she is very sociable so she's not in my back pocket all the time. It's actually a rare treat if we get a chance to do something together once in a while.
Whatever the reason, I'm quite sad that we have to get back into the chaos of school schedules and soccer schedules. I love the freedom that summer offers. Sleeping in, not always having to be somewhere at a specific time, daylight lasting past four in the afternoon. Plus, this is a very expensive time of year! We've got back to school clothes, school supplies, school fees, soccer fees, new cleats, school photos, then it's Alicia's Birthday, followed shortly after by Christmas!
If you'll excuse me, I have to go whore myself on the street now...This might take a while.

Okay, so I never said I was any good at photography. I can highlight your hair in two different colors with a plastic fork, but I can't get one good picture of a whale on a whale watching trip. All of my photos were of the splash a whale makes when disappearing into the water. Lame. I did get a little video footage on my digital camera, though. Not the best, because I couldn't zoom in enough and the whales kept their distance, but enough to prove that we did, in fact, go whale watching....We did!

In other news, Alicia went away with her boyfriend's family for a week on Monday. They rented a cabin with another family at Shuswap Lake, about a five hour drive from here. I haven't heard from her, and I hope she's having fun. I enjoy the break from responsibility on the rare occasion that she's gone from here, but at the same time I miss her, and my mind wanders to her throughout the day.

I only have one client today, which I will come in for at 6:30pm. What a drag to have to come in for a 45 minute cut and blow dry. It's a good thing I live so close to work.

Now I'm going to do some shopping for Drew's Birthday prezzy. I'm going to look for a little TV for the camper. Maybe one with a built-in DVD player so we can pop in a flick in the evenings.

I often talk about my childhood, which usually involves my older brother, Mike. He was the sibling closest to my age, so we spent a good deal of time playing together. Each play session almost always ended in a huge fight. I've posted about the joy he found in tormenting me, but I don't want to misrepresent him. He has been known to do some very loving things, too. When I turned 7, my sister got me a stuffed monkey for my Birthday. This is Joe. He has seen me through every illness, every joy, and daily playing. He had a personality, relationships with my other stuffies, and he understood me better than anyone.

One night, after having slept over at my friend's house the night before, I discovered that Joe was missing from my over night bag. After practically turning the bag inside out, I had to accept the fact that I had left him behind and would have to sleep without him. This would be a first in a long time. Joe was always tucked in under my arm. Well I cried and cried, knowing my best friend was at least a mile and a half away. There was no way I would sleep a wink!

As I lay in my bed, my mom talking to me and soothing my broken heart, my brother appeared in the doorway with Joe in his hand. He had hopped on his bike and rode all the way to my friends house to collect my most prized possession. He was my hero that night, and as I lay my tear stained cheek on my pillow that night, all was right in the world because of my big brother.

This picture was taken after I gave Joe new fir, and new eyes. Before I did this, he was grey and bald, and his eyes were torn and falling off. If I had a scanner I would include pics of before, during, and after the transformation. My family was amazed at the restoration. Today he sits on my headboard, but I will confide in you that every now and again, when I've had a really bad day, I tuck him under my arm and hug him tight when I go to sleep. He still holds a special place in my heart (My brother's not too shabby either!)

So tomorrow I'm going to the wedding of a friend I've known for 25 years. We met in grade 5, and are still friends. She asked me to sing at the reception, so I wrote her and her hubby a song, and will perform it with my guitar. I'm a little nervous. I could just see myself forgetting all the words. I'm gonna print them out and frame it, so I can give it to her when I'm finished. That way, if I get into trouble, I can glance up at the lyrics.
I did buy a hot, hot, hot, little dress to wear, so at least if I screw up the song, I'll screw it up in a smokin' dress!

When Alicia was about two, I was dating a guy named Bob,whose family always got together for Sunday dinner. Alicia was going through that fussy age, when they can't sit still at the table for five minutes, so eating out could sometimes be a little stressful. Bob and I were fairly new, but I was really enjoying getting to know his family. They were very kind, and had a great sense of humor.

One Sunday, we were all around the table, and Alicia was squirming and whining, and just making a pest of herself. So I decided to remove her from the room, where she was being overstimulated. I picked her up and walked through the doorway out into the foyer, and around the corner, when I hatched an evil plan. Peaking around the corner to see the reactions, I began clapping my hands together forcefully while saying, "don't you...ever...mis....behave...at the table...again!"

Well I almost peed my pants when I saw the horrified expressions on Bob's poor family's faces. Their forks suspended in mid-bite, their eyes darted around at each other as if to say, "Is she really beating her child in the next room?" Their mouths hung open in shock, so I couldn't even contain myself. I burst into gales of laughter, and half a second later, so did they. I think they were all so relieved that I wasn't a crazy child beater, they had to laugh.

Sometimes I don't know what gets into me...but it's sure fun when it does.

A few years ago, I was at a baseball dance with my team that took place in a sports bar. It was a nice establishment, but the ladies bathroom had only two stalls, one of them out of order. On one trip to the bathroom my girlfriend was chatting with a woman we didn't know. I didn't hear what they were saying, but I caught the lady say, "...three months" while gently rubbing her slightly swollen tummy.
Shortly after, a woman emerged from the only working stall, and I exchanged glances with the stranger who was rubbing her tummy. We weren't sure who's turn it was, so I said, "Awww, I'll let the pregnant lady go first."
"I'm not pregnant," she said with horror in her eyes.
That's when I frantically began to explain that it wasn't that she looked pregnant, it was that she was saying, "...three months" while rubbing her tummy! Of course she didn't want to hear it, did her business, and then fled the scene.
Oh, how mortified I felt. Later on, my friend and I saw the woman "dancing" in a very jerky, unusual way, and my friend commented that maybe she shouldn't be dancing like that in her "condition."
Ever since that day I made a promise to myself and the universe that, unless there is a little bald head emerging from a woman's body, I will never comment on someone's pregnancy again!

So as usual, I'm posting from work, so I don't have time to download pics from our whale watching trip (plus I don't have my camera here.) It's funny because when my Aunt Ellen and her hubby Curtis went, my aunt had said she was so captivated by the whales, she didn't manage to get many good pictures. I was so determined to get some good photos, I ended up experiencing most of the whales through the tiny screen on my camera ! Having trouble getting a good shot, I eventually just put the camera down to avoid missing all the action. We had some iffy weather on the two and a half hour boat trip through the Georgia Strait. Thank God for the big orange float suits they give you to wear to keep you warm and somewhat dry. There are a few different boats you can choose from to go on, some more covered and cushy than others, with sides that had wind screens. We chose the most basic open motor boat that seats 12 because we wanted to be more "at one with nature." We felt that we could go to the aquarium and see whales through windows. We wanted to see them up close and personal. When we finally reached the whales at the farthest point that the whale watching tour is willing to go to see them, they were headed toward our departure point, so the tour that was scheduled to go after us would have had a shorter distance to travel to see them. Also, we took so long getting there, that there was a very limited amount of time we were able to stay. They had to get back for the next group. Very unlucky for us. The whales themselves were spectacular. What a beautiful sight to see such nature in our own backyard.
The trip home was only about an two hours, since he took a shorter route. However, we did manage to run into a nasty hail storm that lasted about 15-20 minutes by my estimation. My sister and I giggled through most of it. I guess we were giddy from our adventure. By the time we got back, the sun was shining and my bladder was bursting. There was a washroom on the boat, but it was a little tricky and I have a shy bladder, so I waited. Anyway, I will go through my pics and post them soon. I've been so busy with work right now and my new sweetie, plus our computer is in Alicia's room where she and her friends seem to be hibernating for the summer, so good luck on ever getting computer time. Oh well. I've been floating around without a care in the world for the last 3 weeks, anyway. Takes a little more than that to ruffle my feathers. I'm in too good a mood;)

I'm so excited for Sunday to come. Drew is taking me, Alicia and her boyfriend, and My sis, Sheryl, whale watching! When my Aunt Ellen and her hubby Curtis came to BC for a visit, they went whale watching and raved about it. I'm sure it will be very cool. I'll be snapping lots of pics, so I'll be posting them for sure (provided I can get a hold of the computer for a few minutes. Gotta boot Alicia off of it once in a while.) Oh crap! My client is here. gotta go!

Wow, I didn't realize how long its been since my last post. I guess I must be so busy with my new boyfriend! Actually It's an old boyfriend. I've decided to start recycling, so I hooked back up with my ex fiance, Drew. If I was posting from home, I would include a pic of the 6 dozen roses that are in my living room right now. He's a keener. We were together for about 2 and a half years, broke up for 3 and a half years, and now we are back for round 2! Hopefully it works out now after we've both done some growing.
Once when we were camping together, I was feeling a little on the moody/sensitive side...if you know what I mean. It had been a hard day and we had done some bickering back and forth. That night it was very cold, and I didn't bring enough blankets, so as I reached into my bag for some track pants to slip on, I noticed that the crotch of every pair of pants I brought was soaked! They were all folded neatly, and stacked on top of each other, so that all the crotches were lined up. Well, I guess I should have emptied my water/spray bottle before I tossed it in with all my clothes, don't ya think? I managed to make it look like I peed in everything I brought! Being in the mood I was in, my head almost popped off. Poor Drew tried to keep the situation calm and suggested that I simply wear a pair of his trackies. Sounds reasonable, right? Not to a premenstrual crazy lady! I told him that I didn't want to wear his pants and started to cry! Ha ha! Thank God we can laugh at these things now.
The next day, we set out to find a store that sold blankets. We found one lap blanket the size of a beach towel for about $40 and decided to pass. We looked all morning and couldn't find one to save our lives, but we did find a drug store that sold hot water bottles. I was so toasty that night, everyone was happy. I know Drew was happy that Satan had left my body. Ever since then, I bring those same hot water bottles camping, and to every one of Alicia's soccer games. Keeps me toasty warm and happy!

Let me just start by saying, "I AM SOOOO TIRED!!!" I just got back from camping and I am pooped. Alicia and I were sharing a double site with my girlfriend, her hubby and their son. My tent happens to be very easy to set up, and with my new pump, my air mattress was a cinch to inflate. Sadly, when we stumbled through the dark with our flashlight and climbed in for a cozy sleep, my butt sunk down to the cold, lumpy earth. In a few short hours a tiny hole somewhere in our queen sized mattress had let out our only hope of a good night's sleep. My friends heard the commotion from their trailer and offered us their couches for the night. As generous as this was, the couch I was on was about a foot shorter than the length of my body, so as you can well imagine, I didn't wake up singing with the birds the next morning. In fact, at about 6:00 am, I fumbled my way outside. Shortly after, Alicia followed. She didn't sleep either. Wrapped in blankets, sitting in lounge chairs, Alicia read her book, and I tried to slip into some kind of nap-land. The problem was that I wasn't very hungry the night before, and the rye and cokes I drank didn't agree with my empty tummy. I wasn't nauseated, but every time I closed my eyes, the planet seemed to spin a lot faster than usual. Later that day, the fresh air put the spring back in my step. In all of the neighboring campsites, were several of my buddies' friends, so we all met up at the beach where we swam and floated around on inflatables. It was awesome. Alicia and I slept like angels that night after we put all of our gear in the tent and made a very comfy bed in the back of my mom's van. (she lent it to us for the trip.)

Now does that look like a happy camper, or what? My favorite part of the camping trip was seeing Alicia sit in front of thirty people she hardly knows singing and playing guitar. I was really impressed with her guts, not to mention her talent.

The pics are kind of dark, but I had to show off, anyway.

My daughter brought to my attention the ironic side of going camping. We pack up and drive at least an hour to sleep and hang out outside without all the modern technologies, but we pack everything but the kitchen sink! If we're trying to get away from technology and the comforts of home, why are we bringing all these comforts camping with us?

Because I like my comfort, that's why! I like my meats marinating in the cooler so I just have to throw them on the grill. I like my hot water bottles in case it's cold at night. I like bringing preboiled potatoes so they're ready to fry. I like my tent that goes up as easy as an umbrella, and I like my propane tent heater just in case there's a chill in the air. I like too many clothes, towels, blankets, and flotation devices. I like the weenie and marshmallow stick I bought from Canadian tire instead of having to find one on the ground. I like fire starter, air matrices, bug spray, and sun screen.

And then when it's all over, I love coming home to a real bed, a real bathroom, and 5 days of reality TV waiting for me in my VCR.

Today I took my daughter to the mall to buy her a bathing suit and a pair of shorts for when we go camping. My bikini wearing days are long gone, so I live vicariously through Alicia now. Hot bods are wasted on the young. Why is it that women like me have to worry about fat, zits, hormones, car repairs, house work, bills, rent, and much more, while kids only have to worry about grades, boys, and how to get mom to spring for a new bathing suit? With all our worries, it's women my age who should have the perk of a nice bod. If you think I'm feeling sorry for myself, you are sharp as a tack! As it is, this is my bathing suit...





And this is Alicia's...


Sigh...I might as well face it. I traded my little bikinis for a little wisdom...I think I got ripped off.

It is such a beautiful day in sunny BC! I worked until about 2:00, and then ran a few errands. I still have to go get one of my tires fixed before I go camping due to the big nail that's stuck in it, but other than that, things are just humming along. I came home and lounged on my new patio furniture, played a little guitar while singing softly in the sunshine, and now I'm just trying to work up the energy to make some kind of dinner. It's too hot to cook. I just noticed that my daughter has spilled diet coke down her bedroom wall. It's good and sticky now that it's had time to cement itself to the paint. I looked behind her curtain to find three coke cans and a fast food soda cup. Sigh. She's not even allowed to have drinks in her room anymore, for reasons such as this. Hmmm, there's another pop can behind her TV...and three glasses from my kitchen! And is that an empty two liter Mountain dew bottle? Clearly, I don't beat this child nearly often enough.

It's that time of year again. Camping time. Alicia and I will be going camping at a nearby lake from the 3rd of July to the 7th. I've started digging out all my camping gear, I've bought a new pump for my air mattress and blow up boat. This sucker blows up a queen size mattress in under a minute. Go baby, go! Not only that, but it sucks air just as fast. Usually we just roll all over the deflating mattress until it's flat enough to fold, but now we can suck so much air out, it's half the size folded. The last pump I had was to be plugged into the lighter in my truck, but this one is rechargeable. AND, if it's not charged, it has adaptors for a household outlet, AND the car lighter. I also got a new cooler, way bigger than my old one, and it claims to keep the ice unmelted for up to 5 days. That beats the 5 hours my old one keeps the ice for. We'll be going camping with a big group of people. One of my best buds invited us to go with her family and a group of their close friends. They seem like real keeners. They are planning a golf tournie at the course next to the campsite, a potluck dinner, an appetizer night, and all kinds of fun things for the kids. Usually we only go camping for 2 nights, but I find it to be a lot of work planning, packing and unpacking. You only really get one day where you can relax and enjoy. This time, there will be plenty of opportunity to kick back, have some drinks, play some games and just chill.

When I was growing up, high school was not grades 8 to 12 like it is for my daughter. We had junior high, grades 8 to 10, and then high school was grades 11 and 12. Therefore, it was very important to not only have grade 10 grad, but to have a pregrad dance. For this dance, which was held at a downtown club, we bought new outfits, and took great care doing our hair and applying our make-up just right. When I was in grade 10, my best friend Kiki and I did everything together. She was so beautiful with her long curly main of brown hair which she plastered with hair spray between every class. She was so passionate about everything, that it was sometimes hard to take her seriously. I used to tease her about the romance novels she would hide inside her English text book and get lost in during class. Once, she got our smartest friend to write her book-review for her and after presenting it to the class, she asked if there were any questions. Of course my hand went up, and I proceeded to torture her by asking her the definition of several of the multi-syllable words that were used in her presentation. Some might say that was mean, I say there's a fine line between mean and freaking hilarious! One day, in that same English class, she looked at me with big eyes and said that she had a doctor's appointment after school, due to a heart problem she was having. She described sharp shooting pain in her heart. I asked her if the pain occurred when she inhaled, and she excitedly said "yes, how did you know?" After explaining to her that it sounded suspiciously like gas to me, she indignantly denied that there was any possibility of that diagnosis. It was like gas wouldn't dare enter her body, and it had to be something much more dramatic. The next day, when I inquired about her visit with the good doctor, she solemnly reported that it wasn't her heart after all, but it was a "stomach related problem." ahem...gas. My Dad drove us to our pregrad dance, and Kiki's dad was to pick us up when it was over. Shortly after we made our grand entrance, Kiki began to complain of stomach pain. Naturally, I was like, "Shake it off, lets dance! The movement will do you good!" So I dragged my dear friend onto the dance floor, where we danced the night away. Her tummy was only getting worse throughout the evening, and I just thought, "somebody get the girl some alka seltzer before her gas problem puts a damper on the dance!" despite her tummy ache, we had a wonderful time with our friends, but when her father arrived to take us home, Kiki was relieved. She really wasn't feeling well. The next morning, Kiki called me from Richmond General Hospital, where she had her appendix removed after her dad dropped me off. I felt so bad for dismissing her complaints the night before, but she wasn't mad at me. I went to see her that day, and we spent the afternoon giggling so hard, she had to hold her stitches.

Last day of school. I love this time of year. I don't start work until ten in the morning, so I get to sleep in for the next two months!!!
Today I start at ten and finish at about seven thirty. I should be good and pooped by then. I don't have time to write any more. A hairdresser's work is never done...

By the way, to my Aunt Ellen and Curtis: Have a great weekend getaway! Lots of love to you both.

OOOOH, sweet success! I have been struggling to get a link list on my side bar for weeks! I've spent hours agonizing over advice given to me from other bloggers. I received explicit point by point instructions from fellow blogger, Herman (all the way from Holland!) I cut and pasted the entire link list section of my template in an email to my brother. I've studied every character to make sure it was right, and finally...success. Sigh. I feel so cleansed.
What you must understand, is that I am computer illiterate. That's right, I've said it and I'm not ashamed. So what if my 15 year old daughter knows more about it than I do! The point is, it's done. Now I only have to add to it, all the gems that make a link list the glorious thing that it is.
Right now, I'm off to the ball field. TTFN!

Ooooooh, my brother Dennis just reminded me of a funny/very scary incident that happened in Mexico. It must have been about seven years ago now that I was in a relationship with a guy I'll call "Coach." We had been seeing each other for only four months, when we decided to go to Cancun for a week. It was on this trip that I learned that a slight sniffle can turn into major sinus congestion once you reach certain altitudes, but that's another story.

It was the middle of the night and we were walking down a Mexican street, waiting for a bus that we could flag down to take us back to our hotel. Semi stumbling from a mixture of "vacation giddiness," and trying to get our money's worth of the "all you can drink" deal , Coach said, "Ohhh, I wish I had used the washroom before we left the restaurant."
So I, being the problem solver that I am, replied, "Well, just go into those trees and go against a tree. No one will see you."
Coach, being a rather introverted person, was unsure, but after some gentle coaxing, he glanced over each shoulder and retreated into the trees.
I think he was in there for about a tenth of a second when a police car pulled up and two Mexican cops emerged. The next thing I knew, Coach was being dragged into the car, struggling to refasten the button on his shorts. Now my Mexican isn't very strong, but I'm sure the two gentlemen were saying, "No pee-pee in the lagoon!" Over and over again.
Right before they closed the car door, I jumped into the car so as not to be left on some random street in the middle of the night. I was so freaked out, I was hugging the giant souvenir drink glass that the restaurant "gave" me.
Arriving at the Police station was intense. We walked into this small stone room, where there stood a rickety old desk with a giant prehistoric type writer and a big sweaty man sitting in a straining chair. After some interrogation, the man decided that for a small "fine" he would let us go. Apparently the alternative was to stay there as their guests for the next 48 hours. Since we were flying out the next morning, that wouldn't work with our itinerary. Unlucky for us, we hadn't any money on us but a little over bus fare. We explained that our traveler's cheques were in our hotel room and pleaded for our freedom.
It was tense while he deliberated, but in the end he let us go with this strict reminder:

"No pee-pee in the lagoon!"

THE GREEN SIDEWALK

When I was about 8 years old, we moved to Richmond, BC just outside Vancouver. At that time there were ditches of varying sizes that ran down each side of the roads, where the sidewalks would have been. Because we are below sea level, they served as resevoirs when the water levels rose. Each house would then have a bridge of some sort that allowed a car access to the driveway. Some bridges were solid and paved, others were rickety and made of old, rotting, waterlogged wood.

Before moving here, I'd never seen a ditch before. The ditch in front of our house at the time, had a solid, soft green blanket of moss that lay carefully on top of the water. In fact, unless you knew what you were looking at, you couldn't even tell that there was water under that moss covering.

One day, I was kicking a soccer ball in the front yard with my brother, Mike, when the ball went over my head and landed gently upon the mossy "green sidewalk." It didn't break the surface, it didn't bob in reaction to the impact with the water, it certainly didn't make a splash. So without giving any thought to what might be lurking under the green sidewalk, I yelled playfully, "I'll get it" as I leapt from the edge of the yard down to the moss. Imagine my surprise when I splashed through the soft green fuzz and was up to my arm pits in ditch water. We're talkin sewage, bacteria, and lots of creatures. Rats, frogs, and Lord only knows what else. To say I was shocked is an understatement, and as I began to climb out of the ditch, my brother caringly reminded me to get the ball while I was in there.

The funny thing about it was that my biggest worry at the time, was that I got my new socks dirty. My parents did not care about such things, and yet I thought I would be in trouble for staining my new socks. When they arrived home, I was standing in the shower with all my clothes on, crying my little eyes out trying to rinse some of the sludge off before I disrobed. My sister and two brothers told my mom and dad what had happened, and they both came into the bathroom laughing.

To this day my dad refers to the green sidewalk and my I always think of myself unknowingly leaping with glee into a ditch full of sewage. It's a little humbling.

Well it's Saturday, and I have only one more hair cut to do. After that I'm off to Safeway to get the ingredients for the appitizer I'm bringing to my friend's Birthday party. I also have to stop at the booze store, and the dog park to give frisky a run. The sun looks like it wants to burn through the streaky white sky. It sure would be nice if it came out. Anyway, I really have nothing to write about today, so I will sign off.

Well, It's a beautiful day today, and like most people, I've been stuck inside working. I'm one of the lucky ones, though. It's 4:00 and I'm finished. I guess I'll go to the dog park with Frisky.

A couple of months ago, I met this cute guy at the park. He was with his dog, whose ass frisky was busy sniffing. "Just checking his I.D." I always say. Anyway, after a short conversation, I was on my way back to my car, when I thought, Hmmm, he was cute, kinda charming, the right age group, I should have asked him if he was single.

Even though I had never met this guy before and for all I knew he was an axe murderer, in the next few weeks my mind would occasionally flash on him, wondering if maybe he was just my type. I vowed that if I saw him again, I would have the nerve to ask him if he was single.

Well, there I was at the park one day, when Frisky ran toward another dog and they began to sniff each other's butts like it was their last butt-sniff on earth. It was this dude's dog! So I casually wandered over to say hi to him, and he was with his MOM!! Not that there's anything wrong with a guy walking dogs with his mom, but I can't very well hit on him with his mummy watching! So we said our hellos, had a short conversation, and I went on my way. I haven't run into him since, though Frisky has been going on A LOT of walks. In fact, I think the little guy could use a walk at the park right now, unselfish as I am.

Well, after much anticipation, Taylor Hicks is the new American Idol. Apparently there were more votes on Tuesday night for American Idol, than there ever has been for a president of the United States. A sad commentary on people's priorities? Yes indeed. I was saying to my client this morning, though, that if people didn't have to get off their couches to vote, and could do it from their own telephone, there would probably be a lot more voting. A sad commentary on people's motivation to assert their power within a democracy? Uh huh.

Well I'm off to the beauty supply store. I won't buy too much, though, because after Friday, when I win the super 7, I'll be hanging up my scissors to live the rest of my life rolling around in money. A sad commentary on what I would do if I won millions of dollars? I'm afraid so.

Once when I was in the second grade, my friend Sylvia and I decided to play hookey. What we didn't click into was that it was very shortly after a horrifying news frenzy about a young girl who was savagely murdered in our town. It was so close, there was a long period where all the parents were driving their little ones to and from school(back in the days when that wasn't the norm.) Of course the attention span of a 7 year old leaves something to be desired, so though we new of the attack, it wasn't in our minds at that moment. As we were wandering through the suburban streets killing time, the school was contacting our mothers, sending them into a maternal panic!

I remember Sylvia getting upset when we walked within eye-shot of the school field. There happened to be a group of children and adults doing some activities that looked like it was sports day. I tried to reason with her, explaining that we would know if it was sports day. That's when it all began to go down hill.

There we were, two little girls wandering down the street in the middle of a school day, when we noticed a strange car slowly approaching us from the opposite direction. Our minds suddenly flashed on the recent news that our parents couldn't stop talking about. We were pretty scared. As the car got closer, the sun was hiding the face of the driver. When we finally were able to determine the driver's identity, we were even more scared than before.

I'd never driven in a principal's car before. It smelled new and leathery...and there was the distinct odor of fear. When we got to the office and sat down, I could see that Sylvia was losing it. During the interrogation, I had tried to stick to the compelling and believable story, that we were, "walking slowly and took the long way," but Sylvia was crumbling under the pressure. It wasn't long before she tearfully blurted out, "We were playing hookey!"

Y'know, I don't even remember if we were punished for what we did, though I think the good firm talking-to we received from the principal was punishment enough. I'd never been happier to be back in my desk at school than I was after leaving that office.

A few years ago, Alicia was to go on an exchange trip to Quebec. Being a single mom, I had to fundraise my ass off to get her there. One of the fundraisers was the ever-popular pub night. The pub was packed full of fellow fundraising parents and all the friends and family they could drag there. As the evening came close to an end, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. On the way, I was distracted by a friend of mine, who was sitting at another table with her posse. Of course I joined them for a few minutes, laughing and chatting, and feeling pretty cute in the new outfit I had bought that day. While I was mingling, someone had said something funny, to which I replied with a laugh, "What a ripper!" before excusing myself and heading for my original destination.

After finishing up in the ladies, I was doing the customary once over in the mirror: hair, make-up, shoes (no tp on them) and butt (how's it lookin in these new pants?) To my horror I saw that the seem of my pants had completely unraveled, revealing almost my entire behind, with the exception of the quarter inch wide g-string down the middle. What to do!?! I had nothing to cover up with, and my sister and girlfriends had only just gone to the ladies room a few moments before! So I couldn't even wait it out until someone I knew came in.

Eventually, I mustered up the courage to sneak past most of the people with my hands clasped casually but strategically behind me. Once back to my seat, I informed my friends that it was getting a little drafty for my taste, wrapped a sweater around my waste, and bolted. Phew! I made it out without anyone noticing.

The next day I emailed a few people that I thought might get a laugh out of my misfortune. Soon after, the friend whose table I joined for a while at the event called me on the phone. She said that when I said, "What a ripper!" she assumed I was referring to the large tear in my pants!
"You saw that?" I demanded in a panic.
"Everyone did!" she said.
"Are you serious!?!?" I asked in a frenzy, feeling the blood leave my face.
To which she replied through giggles and snorts, "No... I was just screwing with you."
That wasn't the only eruption of laughter over what we now call, "the incident." I took quite the ribbing from a variety of people. I laughed right along with them, though. It was damned funny!