I went on a 4 day trip with my mother and she's still alive.....

I am on vacation this week-and although my job is not particularly hard or stressful, it’s always nice to have a break!

 I work at a place that has sweet benefits including very nice deals with certain hotels in the area. So, in the spirit of generosity to my darling mother, I decided to ask her if she wanted to go to Jasper since she never gets to go anywhere.

Much to my surprise she said yes.........

So, we plan it for the weekend before my week off, because quite frankly, after vacationing with my mother, I knew I’d need a holiday.

 

She arrives here Friday night and we go out for dinner. Usually mom does not drink, because she’s the cheapest drunk I’ve ever seen, but for some reason she must have felt she needed to let loose....okay fine, I can drive, not a big deal.

 

Well after her 1.5 beers, that was apparently as loose as she needed to be. I remember thinking it odd when she started giggling .....then she kept staring at the bartender.....I believe she called him “yummy”? That’s when I knew......I was having dinner with Tipsy McGee.

 

So Saturday morning we get up and get ready and head out to Jasper. We took mom’s car which is actually super uncomfortable but compared to my little tin can shaker it’s a freaking limo...

We arrive, and it’s raining...boo....but we check in and we got a free upgrade.....yaay! We go to our room and there is a screaming child in the room next to us...boo....but they left the next day...yaay!

We got cleaned up and went to dinner. Then we begin to plan our weekend....

Me: “Do you want to go hiking?”

Mom: “No”

Me: “Do you want to go walking”

Mom: “No”

Me: “ Do you know what you want to do?”

Mom: “No” (I had to put my steak knife down by this point.....)

Me: “Do you want to go shopping and to the spa?”

Mom: “Yes”

Me: “Then perhaps we should have booked an appointment....”

 After a very expensive, not that great supper we were both tired (or had too much wine) and decided to go to bed.

I always knew my mother snored but she said she had earplugs for me so I wouldn’t wake up.....

 HA!

 I fell asleep first since I sleep like a stone and I figured once I was out I wouldn’t hear her anyway. Nope, I woke up just as she was falling asleep. I have never in my life heard noises like that.  I decided, in the three hours that I laid there listening that she has many different kinds of snores. There’s the “cutesy little lady” snore with the murmur at the end, there’s the “I’m rolling onto my side “snore, the “I’m on my back sucking all the air out of the room “snore and my FAVORITE, the “chainsaw that won’t quite start....”

I was a little frightened when she actually appeared to quit breathing at one point, but am slightly ashamed to admit I briefly thought “Oh thank God, maybe NOW I can get some sleep “ but she started the chainsaw up again and was back in business.

 

I tried the earplugs, I really did.....I shoved them soo far in my ears that I swear I smelled burnt toast (inside joke for Canucks I think) and I could STILL hear her.

She wakes up Sunday morning, stretches, smiles, and says “Oh, I had a such a good sleep”

I look at her with my bloodshot eyes and say “I very much dislike you right now”

So we get up and go for breakfast. For the $14 dollars we paid for the buffet you better believe we took stuff back in our purses....

We got into the spa at the last minute which was nice, and I think I had the best facial I’ve ever had in my life!!! It was so relaxing.

We then decided to drive around and go shopping (still raining btw). I have never been to Jasper before, but apparently there is no shopping......

So we sort of just drove around and then went for supper.

Thankfully I was so exhausted by Sunday night that I actually slept through the chainsaws.

Monday morning was checkout day, and for once it wasn’t raining....it was snowing instead....

So we packed up, checked out and were on our way home.

Mom said she had fun, and she asked if I did too, I said “Yes, but I’m kind of bummed I didn’t get to go hiking”

Mom said “Oh, well it’s too dangerous Tortie, the bears would eat our brains, well first they swat you, and then they eat your brains”

Me:” How do you know that they do that?”

Mom: “I don’t know, they just do.......”

Me:” Okaaaay”

Mom:” Thank you for not smothering me with my pillow during the night”

Me: “You are welcome....”

It was all worth it for this view though

 

Is it possible to inject the caffeine directly into my veins?

I’m guessing you can tell by my title that I LOVE coffee. If I could drink it all day long I would.

I remember when I was younger, I would wake up and I could smell the coffee brewing and I knew that it was the weekend. My parents would make bacon and eggs and have coffee and it was family time. We all had our jobs; dad was in charge of the bacon, mom the eggs, and me the toast. I took my job VERY seriously. It was a lot of responsibility to put the butter on the toast without tearing it or burning the bread. (OK well not really but at the time, I thought it was super important) We even had a really embarrassing name for it based on my nickname…”Tender Toast by Tortie” I also remember the adults in my family all having coffee at our cabin in the summer mornings. If I try hard enough, I can think back and remember the smell of the coffee and the sounds of everyone waking up and chatting and making plans for the day. Sometimes they’d sit on the deck outside and I can still hear the birds and the frogs and it was simply one of the best memories I have. It really makes me miss my grammy. My grandmother, not the award……

I was always eyeing my dad’s coffee; he put in two teaspoons of sugar and a LOT of evaporated milk. I remember thinking that if it smelled that good, surely it tasted the same? I got my answer when I was around 10 or 11 and I got to have my first cup all by myself! (Yes my parents gave me coffee when I was 10.I also rode in the car with no seatbelt and ate dirt and cat food and was exposed to all sorts of germs and GASP, I turned out A.OK)

Anyway, I was very happy to say that it did taste that good!! From then on I always wanted some because I liked it (well I liked the cream and milk.) my mom made me try her black coffee but that tasted icky…

I got to have the occasional cup as a treat and then when I was in my late teens I started having it in the mornings. I used to be satisfied with a cup in the morning and that was kind it. Then as time went on, I discovered the joy of Starbucks and all the different flavors and way to prepare the coffee that they had. I could have it any time of day and the caffeine never affected me. I could have a cup and then go right to bed if I really wanted to.

When I started my “diet” last year, the book said that I could not have coffee and that was the only rule I could not bring myself to follow. I tried for a day or two but had the withdrawal headache so bad I thought my head was going to split in two. But I tried to follow it as best I could. I went from my usual two tsp of sugar and skim milk to no sugar and straight whipping cream. (that’s how the diet worked) It took a bit of getting used to but now it’s ok. But I will admit, since I couldn’t have treats on my detox phase, coffee became my treat. It was what got me through the day. 

About a month ago, I had my usual two cups during the day and had myself a latte after supper to relax (thank God someone invented the Tassimo!) I went to bed at my usual time and just laid there with my eyes wide open. I did not associate it with the coffee I had earlier that evening. I tossed and turned and rolled around most of the night. I woke up feeling like a zombie, but had my beloved coffee to wake me up.

The same thing happened for a few nights and I could not figure out what was going on.

My friend then said the obvious “Well maybe it’s the caffeine?” “NOOOOOOOOO, please God, anything but that” But I tested it. Yep, that’s what it was! I can now only have one cup in the morning and maybe one mid morning, but nothing after that or I am wide awake at night. My best friend in the whole world has turned on me! It’s been a couple weeks and I’m sticking to it, as difficult as it is. One day though I’m totally going to rebel and have a latte at night and screw you body, deal with it!!! Man, getting older sucks!



www.someecards.com



I appear to be missing the “furniture assembly” gene………..

I used to have this little teeny tiny foldout table as a night stand. It was so tiny and didn’t hold much but it was useable so I never worried about it.

Then the cats started jumping on it since it was not that far for them, knocking stuff over in the middle of the night and really annoying me.

So I decided to go buy an actual night stand…I’d so rather use the money for clothes, or shoes but being a grown up sucks, so off I went.

I got a really nice chocolate brown one, with a drawer that matched my dresser perfectly.

I get it home and in the door (thanks Dad btw) and opened the box to find tons and tons of pieces.

Rather than try to explain my frustration, I will allow you to take a peek at the inner dialogue that occurred at various points while trying to put this piece o’ _______together!

“Ok, well that looks to be a lot of pieces-no prob., I can do this. I’m a single, independent gal and I don’t need anyone to help me put together one tiny night stand.”

(So I remove the pieces one by one from the box and lay them out on the floor according to number)

“Okay well that wasn’t so hard, the instructions have numbers and it looks like they’re all here, no problem.

I wonder if the fact that I only have a hand held screwdriver will slow me down. Nah, it’s probably fine.

Hmmm, it says pre drilled hole, but I only seem to find a small indent where it says the hole should be, okay well I’ll just screw in the thing and that will be fine.

Okay why is this thing veering off to the side, I think I’m approaching it straight.

Ohhhh dear, the screw has cracked through the side, I wonder if I can cover that up. Yeah, it’s just the inside of the drawer, should be fine.

Okay, so it says there are four little gliders-two for the inside of the cabinet and two for the drawer- why do the pictures look exactly the same-how am I supposed to tell what is CL and CR and DL and DR?  Okay, well I looked at the pictures carefully; yeah I’m sure that’s right...(It wasn’t until I was done I noticed the name engraved on the side of the pieces)

Gee that hammering of the back piece is awful loud banging against the floor, I hope I’m not bothering my neighbors, better put it on my lap (even I can see how stupid that was….)

OUCH, yeah okay let’s put that back on the floor

Alright, let’s put these baby together”

I should mention by now that approximately 3 hours have passed. Yes, the handheld screwdriver did slow me down.

But I was confident in my abilities, and put the thing together and was ready stand it up and put the drawer in.

“Okay, this actually looks like the picture, except why does that bottom shelf not look like the rest…OH CRAP, I put it on upside down, now I have to look at the wood side…okay well I can fix that, I’ll just undo this and this and this…hmm why isn’t this coming apart…OH DAMMIT-I HAVE ALREADY NAILED THE BACK PIECE ON!!

“Well I am much to tired and pissed off to bother fixing it now. I’ll just cover it up with stuff. I will put the drawer in and then I’m done.

Okay, just slide it in like this….like this……like this? .c’mon, go in you little bastard-why won’t you go in?  Well I will re read the instructions again, yes that’s right and that’s right, and that’s right-. Why won’t this go in properly-you know what, screw it, I can still put stuff on the top….”

And that is how it remains currently!

I did briefly consider taking my hammer and smashing it to pieces, but I figure with my luck the claw would bounce back into my eye or something.

I will admit, with only a tiny amount of shame, that I did place a rather sniffly, whiny phone call to my dad and he will be coming in to fix it for me…...If he can -as there is a small chance that all the sideways screws and holes may affect the outcome of that.

As an aside, since I have “Grover wrists” as my dad calls them, Sunday morning I could barely move my hand without searing pain. I think I may invest in a automatic drill.

Nancy Wilson I am not...........

I decided that this is the year that I’m going to attempt all the things that I have always wanted to do but have been either too a)chicken or b)poor.

Since option b) does still play into the equation I’m going to have to maybe stretch it to a few years, but I did start with one thing. Guitar lessons…..

I have attempted this a few times before throughout my life, but have either quit because it’s too “hard,” or my teacher has been my dad who should not be allowed to teach anyone anything.

My earliest memory of this was when I was about 7 or 8 I think. There is a photo of me and my dad with our matching guitars. I should have stuck with it then, but I think I was distracted by something shiny and moved on. It made for a good photo op though.

Then when I was older I thought Well my dad plays bass-maybe I could tackle that.

So I asked dad who sat me down on the couch and popped in a Mavericks CD. Here’s how that little exchange went:

Dad: “Ok, do you hear that? Do you hear the bass?”

Me: “Yes, I have ears don’t I?”

Dad: “Ok, go ahead”

Me: “Go ahead and what?”

Dad: “Go ahead and match it”

Me: “I am outta here”

A few years ago, I thought, well I don’t need anyone to help me, I will learn it online. So I once again borrowed dad’s guitar, and sat myself down to learn. Since he hadn’t played in a while, it needed to be tuned. No problem says I because I have his handy dandy little tuner thing.

What it does not explain to you, is which way to turn the little doohickey thing. (I don’t know the proper name for it yet)

As you can probably guess, I turned it the complete wrong direction, until the string was so tight, it snapped off and nearly whipped me in the eye.

All I heard was “woooosh” and moved my face just in time.

That was the end of that.

I won't even bother trying to explain the banjo debacle of 2002.

So now at the age of 31, I have decided to try once more. But this time, I thought I’d do it properly-and as long as it wasn’t too expensive I was ready to go. So onto Kijiji I went. I was briefly concerned about ending up at the house of a psychopath, but I put the thought behind me and kept searching.

I was so happy when I saw the ad for a guitarist of a band whose name I actually recognized, and I think I even saw live once or twice like 8 years ago. I thought that surely someone like that would charge an arm and a leg for lessons. So I took a shot and sent in my request for info. Imagine my surprise when he got back to me and it was sooo reasonable. Since I’m not using anyone’s name here, I will simply refer to him as “Guitar Hero”

I started the lessons a few weeks ago, and it is NOT easy when you’re old and your fingers do NOT cooperate with your brain.

To top that off, Guitar Hero told me last week that I’m going to have to keep my nails short if I want to play. Well OK, I can wear polish, that’s not a big deal….I hate short nails but at least my hands still look girly.

Then I noticed the tip of my fingers felt a little numb. So I asked my dad about it, and he said “Oh, you’re starting to develop calluses” I said “Excuse me?”

Yep, short nails and callused fingers-man hands here I come :(

But at least as my dad so cheerfully pointed out "Well if you cut your finger you won't even feel it!"

This time, I am determined to stick with it, and practice every day. It helps that Guitar Hero is a fantastic teacher, and I actually look forward to every Thursday night!

And bonus: He is not a psychopath!



I wish!
Photo courtesy of elle.com



Is rock really the young man's game?

So Wednesday afternoon I'm sitting at my desk working when my phone rings. It was a co worker of mine and she says "Hey Courtney, do you want to go to Bon Jovi tonight?"

My first thought was "On a Wed night? Who goes out late during the work week?" My second thought was "God, you're getting old...." My third thought was "Yes, I think I do want to go"

You see, in truth I am not a "fan" of Bon Jovi. I don't own any of their albums and the only songs I know are the radio singles. But- these guys have been making music as long as I've been alive! How could I pass up the experience? Besides-tickets were only $20. Sure, the seats were in the nosebleeds, but I have ears don't I?

So, after a little juggling, I managed to rustle up a concert companion. I had to take the LRT for the first time by myself to meet her. I've always been a little leery of the LRT and seeing someone get arrested did not alleviate my fear. But there ended up being enough people heading to the concert that it was totally fine.

We get to the concert at around 7:45, get a drink and find our seats. The lights went down and I was preparing to judge the opening band (you know we all do!) So imagine my surprise when Bon Jovi themselves came out!

I thought "NICE!, They start at 8, play their 90 mins and I'm at home in bed by 10."

Nope, I was wrong. They played for nearly 3 hours! Not once did Jon Bon Jovi stop moving, dancing and shaking around. Not once did his voice strain or crack. Did I mention he is 51 years old?

It reminded me of the Pearl Jam concert I went to in 2011. They played for over 2.5 hours and when the house lights came on Eddie Vedder said "I'm not done yet" and kept playing.
Metallica in 2012 was much the same.

It's clear these people LOVE what they do. They must-they're likely rich enough to stop whenever they want.

Now-I'm not saying that all bands of today- the "young" bands are the same-I don't want to stereotype, but a lot of the ones I've seen stand static as they play their 90 min set, don't talk much except for the obligatory "Hellooo (city of the day), are you ready to rock?"

Please don't send me a bunch of comments telling me you saw Band A or Band B and they were awesome. As I said earlier, this is based on what I've seen, and I've been to a lot of concerts.

I left at the end of the night fully entertained and I definitely got my moneys worth.

But I do wonder if rock really is the young man's game? And if not, what will it be like when the Pearl Jams, Bon Jovis and Rolling Stones of the world are gone?

               My view of the concert