I Gotta Feelin'

So I gotta feelin' that I should blog. I have no idea how this will end up, but I feel like I should share some random thoughts with you. While I was just writing the last sentence, my husband filled me in on a very exciting fact: Lyoto Machida will be fighting Randy Couture this evening alongside my all time favourite George St-Pierre!!!! So let's explore that, shall we?

Some of you, I'm sure, despise the UFC with a passion; however, I quite enjoy the sport. Yes, sport. It is a sport just like ice hockey, rugby, and rhythmic gymnastics are sports.

And yes, they bleed. They bleed just like hockey players, rugby players, and rhythmic gymnasts bleed. 

So, all you out there watching the PGA Golf Tournament I say to you: "That sport disgusts me! How could you sit there and watching another man carry around another man's clubs! Despicable." **Side note: I enjoy golf, I'm just trying to get my point across.

All you watching Dancing with the Stars I say to you: "You maniac! Two people chasing, lifting, and throwing each other around! Absurd." **Side note: I don't like DWTS, but I like dancing.

And all you watching the Canucks in the playoffs... wait, I think I already milked that enough.

Sincerely, Disappointed

Dear Canucks,

For once, you didn't choke. Unfortunately. However, let me just say that you'll never look as good in bright blue and bright green (which, by the way is a rather elementary combination) as Griswald does in white and red (with feathers because he like to accessorize).

But let me continue. As you are aware, your team has yet to win a SINGLE Stanley Cup, so I warn you: Don't get your hopes up.Your fans will continue to fall in and out of love with you on a whim, and those green slinky, spandex mascots will run out of money for playoff tickets.

Remember: You will never look as good as this either.











Sincerely,

Disappointed

Staying on the Surface

So I just wanted to share one of my latest experiences with you. It involves late-night Walmart shopping, child sized life jackets, an awkward stranger, my husband, and last but obviously not least: Sarah.

The Beginning:
Wal-Mart is tempting, you know? They carry pretty much anything your evening heart desires: Barbie Jeeps that were forever on your childhood Christmas List that you never got, Dr. Seuss' 'Oh! The Places You Will Go!' (very inspirational), fancy Kleenex box designs, and of course, infant sized life jackets to keeps us afloat during exam season.
So, picture this: Sarah, Ryan, and myself peruse aimlessly (having lost Kirsten in the laundry aisle at least twenty minutes prior). We come across the sporty goods section, and Ryan becomes entranced with a punching bag while Sarah and I hit up the boating aisle. Rods, line, bait, life jackets. Bingo.

The Middle:
Sarah's wanting hand reaches for the TinkleBell toddler size (14-27 kgs). She states, "I want this one" and dawns the jacket. To our astonishment, she actually gets it up past her elbows eventually reaching her shoulders. But of course, it's simply impossible to do up the front dual clips, let alone the crotch strap. 
"You try," she states.
I try. It doesn't fit :( Once again, my Disney dreams are crushed. I've outgrown my childhood! It reaches only to my elbows and then gets stuck. I mean, completely stuck! It was at this point a lovely gentleman graces our presence in aisle 17. He pretends to peruse the plastic tackle boxes as he eyes our dilemma. I try and warn her, "Sarah, there is a guy in the aisle. This aisle. Right behind you."
It doesn't matter because it's too late! He approaches. He chuckles and looks to Sarah, "You look stunning." (Obviously, I don't fit the 'stunning' category as TinkerBell's face is being contorted while it pushes up against the crook of my elbow).

The End:
We begin laughing uncontrollably as I pry the jacket off of my arms and do the same with Sarah's. But then we realized we didn't have a picture to remember this moment. Sarah dawns the jacket once again. I pick out a more sensible size for myself (28-45 kgs). Enjoy.



Kirst, aren't you bummed you missed this?

 

In Honour of a Good Job

So today I'm happy to announce that two of my besties have acquired rather desirable summer jobs that will provide them both with extraordinary experience, as well as much needed money to put them through another year of extensive studying/procrastinating. Congratulations, Miranda! I wish you well as you go on to carve out many-a-ruptured appendixes :) And Sarah, Congratulations! I wish you well as you murder many-a-mosquito (I say this because I don't really know what your new job entails other than pesticides; therefore=bugs).

I, however, will be working at the same job as I have for the past four years. I definitely would not classify reflective cover-alls and scratched safety glasses as attributes to a desirable job, but yet I am grateful--somewhat--to make enough moola to come back to this dreary city of rain for another year.

Kidding! I love my job--somewhat. Can't you tell by my terrified expression??

Don't Put All Your Eggs in the Bathtub

Hey guys! Thought I would share a little bit of my creative writing fiction that I've drafted, revised, re-drafted, and re-revised this semester. Please, unlike my classmates, don't over analyze. It's a simple story. Feel free to leave comments and suggestions; NICE suggestions :P

Don’t Put All Your Eggs in The Bathtub

They’re real. All of them.

Real.

How do you explain the magical appearance of a loonie under my pillow after I lost my first molar? You probably think my parents put it there. Little do you know that I stayed up past nine-thirty in order to prove they didn’t do it.

Those crazy designs covering my window after a cold night didn’t just appear without help. Frost isn’t the same as a snowflake; my teacher told me so. Snowflakes fall from the sky, and frost doesn’t. Someone has to paint it on there. I bet Jack got an ‘A’ in Art class.

 Every Christmas morning, I find presents under the tree, and the cookies and milk my mom and I put out on Christmas Eve are gone too. That one’s hard to explain though, because my mom’s cookies “leave something to be desired”, as my dad says. Maybe Santa eats them so she doesn’t feel bad. However, she did find a lump of coal in her stocking the year she attempted the Flax Seed Raisin recipe.

During Easter, there are eggs in the weirdest spots. You can’t tell me that bunny doesn’t exist. Who would think to hide a basket in the bathtub? Mom hates bath toys, so last year I warned the bunny with a sticky note on the shower curtain: NO Chocolate in the Bath. The note was still there the next morning; he had written ‘Thanks’ at the bottom.

Just yesterday, my brother woke up with sand in his eyes after he had the most marvelous dream of mythical dragons and fastastical fairies. I don’t care what you say, but the Sand Man is keepin’ it real. When you wake up with sand in your eyes, you know you’re back to reality.

Last week, my fourth grade class had a Valentine’s party, and Cupid was there. Sure, no one actually saw the naked baby, but Thomas gave Emily a candy that said ‘U R Mine’ right after recess when he told me girls were icky. That doesn’t happen every day. 

I spent three hours last night searching our hall closet for the Bogey-Man. I found evidence, you know? Inside my dad’s golf bag, there were six score cards, each had at least three bogey’s on it. Maybe that’s why he yells so much on the golf course; he’s probably scared. I also found boogers wiped under my brother’s desk last week. People say he only hides in closets, but I say watch your back.

            But the stork myth; that’s just crap. My baby sister weighs a lot, and there is no way a bird could carry her around.

80 is the new 40

Hey, everyone! It's Grandma's 80th birthday today! Go Grandma! Anyway, it's been a long time since I wrote...nay, rapped, so here goes.

80's the New 40
by W-Dawg

Sup? It's G-Ma's birthday today
She ain't born in the month of May
She wears great clothes:
Peach, pastel, and pink
Always accompanied by a pair of hose.
She's 80 today, but she doesn't look it!
No way!
She's still makin' a quilt
And she ain't got no flowers that wilt (ugh, that line pained my English Major-self to write)
Check it.
I bet she's knittin' up a storm
Because that's her daily norm
She's probably even bakin' a cake
Her own birthday dessert she'll make
I wish I was there
But I have nothin' to wear
So have a Happy Birthday, G-Ma
Remember: 80's the new 40.
Check it.

P.S.- If I look half as good as she does when I'm 80, I'll still be sporting a bikini. Just sayin'.