The Best Birthday Present Ever!

Yep.  It’s my day.  28 on the 28th!!

Oh.  Right.  I said I wasn’t going up in age this year.  “27 Forever”. 

But, as I’ve said before, I truly am a fan of birthdays.  I don’t like the “getting older” part, but presents? cake?  Seriously, how could anyone hate that?

(My dad, that’s who.)

Anyways, on Sunday I went to the Rideau Carleton Raceway with some good friends to celebrate a whole whack of July birthdays (Cowan on the 16th, Brenda on the 24th, Wayne on the 26th, and me.)  We enjoyed the 100-item buffet dinner and placed some bets on horses.  It was my first time being there for the races, and it was a great evening!

(Brenda just sent me this pic from Sunday night – my birthday wishes on the announcement board!  We cheered for each other every time our names came up. haha!)

Being at the Raceway and betting on horse #6 to win got me reminiscing about the last time I was there, also in hot pursuit of a certain #6.  Just a little over 10 years ago…

Back then, there was this guy playing for the Ottawa Senators.  You may have heard me mention him before.  Yeah, you know it.  Wade Redden.  At the time, he was the stud defenceman on the team, and a real star in the league. 

And I was in love with him.

So imagine my excitement when my friend Brenda surprised me with tickets to the 65 Roses Gala at the Rideau Carleton Raceway for my birthday.  The reason for the excitement?  Wade Redden was the local celebrity chair of the 65 Roses Club (a fundraising committee for Cystic Fibrosis), and he was going to be at the event.

This was my chance to finally meet Wade.

I’d been his biggest fan since I was twelve years old.  At the time of the 65 Roses Gala, I was almost 18 years old.  So that was six years of hard-core Wade Redden obsession.  And by “hard-core”, I mean…hard-core.  I knew his hometown, his birthday (and celebrated it), the names of his family members, where his brother went to school, his favourite food, his favourite colour, his favourite brand of cologne, his dog’s name…Pretty much any little tidbit about Redden that I could dig up, I soaked it in and stored it away.

So when Brenda told me my early birthday gift that summer would be tickets to possibly meet him at this Gala?  It was pretty much the best birthday present ever.

She warned me the whole way there, though, that she had no idea what this event was going to be like, or how many people would be there.  She couldn’t guarantee that I would get to meet Wade, or even see him up close.  Brenda made sure to warn me of all this, so that my hopes didn’t get too high.

She didn’t have to worry.  We arrived at the Raceway at least an hour before the Gala was to begin, and as we strolled into the main lobby, I spotted him.

He was going up an escalator to the second level.  I pointed.  “Brenda…Brenda…that’s him.”

She didn’t bother trying to stop me from racing towards the escalator so that I could follow him & his entourage.  She just followed along, smiling, knowing that the tickets were already made worthwhile.

We followed him into the big room where the Gala was being held, and I watched in sheer excitement as he munched snacks from the tables.  Brenda suggested we go ahead and approach him before the crowd arrived, but despite my desire to do so, I was far too nervous to actually go up to him.

Lucky for me, Brenda’s not a timid person.

She dragged me over and said hi to him, and he smiled and greeted us warmly.  She asked if it would be okay if we took some pictures with him before too many other people showed up, and he graciously agreed to do so.

So I stood next to him, and he put his arm around me.  I put my arm on his back.  I distinctly remember thinking, “Oh my God, I’m touching Wade Redden’s back.  I’m touching Wade Redden’s back!!!”

As we posed for the camera, he said to me, “So, how’s it going?”

I didn’t answer.  I couldn’t speak.  I remember trying to move my mouth, but I couldn’t.  I just kept smiling and touching his back and freaking.out.

He seemed to understand.  He just chuckled.  Then I took his picture with Brenda.  And then he took off.

That was, easily, the highlight of my night.  Right there.  The Gala hadn’t even begun, and my dream had already come true.

Later on, after the speeches and a draw for prizes, he was sitting at a table signing autographs and posing for photos.  We approached him once more, this time to get him to sign my Sens jersey.  He remembered us, smiling, saying, “You guys again!”

He signed my jersey, and posed for another photo with me:

I look at this picture now, and I’m still in awe of him.  It was, pretty much a dream come true.  (I only wish I didn’t look like a bag of crap…like, maybe try putting on some make-up, Jill?  How about doing something with your hair??  At least try to look presentable for the man of your dreams?!?)

A few weeks later, I turned 18.

I can’t believe that was 10 years ago.  I remember the details as if it was yesterday.

It was, indeed, the best birthday present ever!!

(Thanks Brenda!!)

WWTKW – On superheroes & theme songs…

We Want to Know Wednesday!  Hosted by Mamarazzi and Alicia aka Queso!  Link up and share your answers!!

Here are this week’s questions:

{1} Who would you call if you had to get bailed out of jail?
{2} If you were a superhero what would your hero name be?
{3} What do you think is one of your best qualities?
{4} What song would you pick to be your own personal theme song?
{5} What celebrity do you think is most over rated?

My answers:

{1} Who would you call if you had to get bailed out of jail?  I definitely would NOT call my parents.  They would bail me out, but they’d be PISSED.  I would also probably not call my sister, because she would also be annoyed.  My brother never answers his phone, so he’s out.  …Hmmm… Y’know, I’m gonna go with my friend Brenda.  She’s proven herself reliable in dire situations – like when a roommate slipped and hurt her elbow in the middle of the night, and I was too drunk to evaluate how bad it was.  “Does this hurt?  Does this hurt?” (while jabbing my fingers into her injured arm, then throwing a bunch of frozen fruit and vegetables on it).  I called Brenda.  (It was broken, by the way.)  So yeah.  Brenda would be my one phone call!

Oh, and did I mention she’s a second degree black belt?  She’d kick some ASS!! 

{2} If you were a superhero what would your hero name be?  I haven’t got a clue.  Super Spazz Girl?  Foot In Mouth Woman?  My hero qualities are pretty much non-existent…

{3} What do you think is one of your best qualities?  Making people laugh.  Doesn’t always work, but I can usually pull a story out of my butt that makes people laugh, even when they don’t feel like laughing.  I told you yesterday about my cousin who passed away.  At the wake, I entertained the other cousins with stories about my fish and how I had killed it.  Laughing makes me feel better, so I like to share it with others.

{4} What song would you pick to be your own personal theme song?  Currently?  (And for the past, oh, ten years?)  I think the song “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World best represents me.  Here’s a little snippet:

Hey, you know they're all the same.
You know you're doing better on your own, so don't buy in.
Live right now.
Yeah, just be yourself.
It doesn't matter if it's good enough for someone else.

It just takes some time, little girl, you're in the middle of the ride.
Everything, everything will be just fine, everything, everything will be alright, alright.

I’m ready to get out of the damn middle.  I’ve been there to friggin’ long.  But yeah.  This song speaks to me.  I’m always like, “Hey, that’s me.”

{5} What celebrity do you think is most over rated?  Paris Hilton.  I’m sorry, what exactly does she do?  She tried reality TV, she tried singing, she even tried acting in movies if I recall correctly…she failed at everything.  And yet, still, she’s in all the celeb news.  What the F is up with that?!?  Plus, I think she’s scary looking.

 

There we have it!  Another WWTK Wednesday, in the books.  Remember to link up if you haven’t already.  Happy Hump Day!! :)

One Year Ago Today (Part One)

*****

Who would’ve thought that forever could be severed by the sharp knife of a short life…

*****

One year ago today, I found out first-hand the true meaning of the word tragedy.

It’s a word that I thought I understood.  You read about tragedies in the paper, watch them on the news at night, nod sadly when a friend tells you of someone else’s bereavement.  You act like you know exactly what they’re talking about.

But you don’t know.

You don’t know until you get that call.

For me, it came early on a Sunday morning.  Not so early that I suspected something was wrong.  In fact, I figured it was my mom calling to see if I was going to church.  I was planning to tell her no, because I’d done a little too much partying the night before.

I had no idea that she was about to tell me my cousin Jeff had been in an ATV accident and wasn’t going to live.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of me.  Like I’d been punched in the gut.  I sobbed.  Cried out. Oh no!  Oh no!  And then couldn’t say anything more.  Just sobs.  Loud sobs, ripping through me.

I had never cried like that before in my whole life.

It’s a moment you hope to never experience.  Suddenly, your world is not right.  Everything is wrong.  Everything has been knocked completely off-kilter.  You simply can’t believe something like this could happen to such good people.

Grief.  It began for me that day.  That long, horrible day, which I spent, oddly enough, at the ball field in Carp, where my brother’s ball team went on to win the Gil Read Memorial Tournament.  I don’t know how he was able to play that day.  I hid behind big, dark sunglasses, hoping no one could see my swollen, red-rimmed eyes, and the tears that never really stopped filling my eyes.  I watched some ball, hoping to be distracted even just a little, but if you asked me what happened during those games, I couldn’t tell you.  I know they won.  But while my eyes were trained on the ball field, my mind was elsewhere.  Flashing on memories, praying for a miracle, thinking of family and friends gathered at a hospital not that far away.

The following day, Jeff passed away, two days before my 27th birthday.

One year ago today.

In the days that followed, it took very little for me to dissolve into tears.  But it’s funny, looking back now, how eventually, you just start moving on.  That week of mourning, I felt like nothing would ever be normal again.  I felt like I would stay in this hazy world of grief forever.

Somewhere along the way, though, it happens.  You start to smile again.  You start to laugh again.  You start going places, and doing things, and life just has this crazy way of marching on.

That doesn’t mean I don’t think of him.  I think of him every day.  Every single day.  And sometimes, when I least expect it, a whirlwind of memories will leave me absolutely breathless.  It will catch me off-guard, and leave me thinking, No…this couldn’t have really happened…

But there’s this thing called faith.  When the world crumbled all around my family, I doubted mine.  I questioned it.  I struggled to find it. 

And it was there all along, waiting for me to lean on it.  It has helped me through.  I think it has helped us all through, whether we realize it or not.

I don’t know the reason bad stuff like this happens.  I’ve spent much of this past year asking why.   And today, a whole year later, I still don’t have that answer.

But I have faith.  Faith that we will all be together again, someday.

One year ago today, I had no idea just exactly how much I was going to need that faith…

(Part Two)

I confess that I wish I was on a golf course…

Friday confessions.  Hosted by Mamarazzi.  You know the drill.

I confess…today is our MVT golf day, and I can’t wait for it to start.  The bus departs at noon, dear people.  We’re T-1 Hour and 5 Minutes.  Could a morning go any slower??

I confess…that I’m not actually a huge fan of golf.  But driving the cart?  That, I enjoy.  Also, I enjoy drinking caesars.  So there is plenty to keep this kid happy at the golf course.

I confess…I’m a little jealous that I didn’t feel the earthquake last night.  I feel left out.  Apparently, perched on a bleacher at the ball park, you can’t feel the earth rumble and shake.  Who knew.

I confess…that when I got home last night and found an unexpected early birthday present from a friend waiting on me, I was overly excited.  Like, ear-to-ear silly grin excited.  Despite telling the world that I’M NOT HAVING A BIRTHDAY THIS YEAR, I’m actually still a big fan of birthdays.  I’m just not getting older.  Okay?  Remember that.  27 forever.

I confess…that I hate mosquitoes.  They ruined my night at the ball field.

I confess…that I love the heat.  But even I didn’t think it was humane for a bunch of men to be sweating and running and swinging bats and throwing balls in our Mumbai-like temps last night.  They must really love it.  I would have cancelled last night’s doubleheader in a heartbeat.

I confess…that I seriously considered bunking at the ‘rents last night when the lady at the store told me a severe thunderstorm was coming.  Considering the heat, it wasn’t a far-fetched prediction.  Proud of myself for being a big girl and staying at my own house.  Plus, no storm, so there was nothing to be worried about.

I confess…that I was so flustered over finding my golf clubs this morning that I forgot to wish my mom & dad a happy anniversary.  39 years married today!

I confess…that when I called to wish them a happy anniversary once I got to work, and my mom told me my brother had beat me to it, I was disappointed in myself.  But when she told me she’d talked to my sister twice and she hadn’t mentioned it, I felt better.  At least I beat one of them.

Have a great weekend, tout le monde!!

Ladies and gentlemen…Welcome to the HEATWAVE

It’s hot here.  Reallllly hot.

When people from other parts of the world talk about cold, snowy Canadian winters, they tend to picture us all huddled up here in our igloos, wearing mittens and tuques, and making snowmen year-round.

Not so, my friends.  Not so.

On days like this, the song stuck in my head is Martha and the Vandellas’ “Heatwave”.

It gets pretty hot here in the summer – at least in our neck of the woods.  And today, there’s a possibility we could break records.

34 degrees Celsius, and with the humidex it should feel more like 45.  On the radio this morning, they said that’s like 119 degrees Fahrenheit.  I think we’d have to hit 37 to break the record, and reports are that’s quite possible.

It wasn’t this hot in Cuba.  Not even close.

And you know what?  You won’t catch me complaining.  I love it!

…Well…unless I have to be in my Rav for any length of time.  The AC didn’t work in it when I bought it, and I never bothered getting it fixed.  Most of the time I don’t care…until days like today.  Fortunately, I only have a five-minute drive to work.  If I was sitting in city traffic, I would definitely be getting it fixed!

I also have to watch it when I squeal about how much I love the heat around this office.  I’m one of the lucky ones, who gets to sit inside at a desk, staying completely cool in the air conditioned office.  I literally cringe when some of the guys walk in here on days like this, dripping with sweat, their shirts soaked through, grumbling about how they wish they had a job in the office.

Moments like that?  It’s very important not to say anything about lovin’ the heat…

The only thing that would make this heatwave better?  A POOL.

  

God, how I wish I had a pool!  It’s been a wish of mine since I was a little girl.  I loved/love swimming, and I used to beg my parents for a pool as a kid.  There was always an excuse, a reason not to get one.  If I could afford one now, it would be at the top of my wishlist. 

Unfortunately, word on the street is pools are a lot of work.  I would also need a pool boy to look after it.

Hmmm…that’s really not such a bad idea at all…

How’s the weather where you are?  Hot?  Really hot?  Do you enjoy the heat?  And how are you keeping cool?

It’s like a heatwave!!!  burning in my heart!!!

WWTKW…featuring a new hostess!

It’s that time of the week again.  When all those burning questions from around the blogosphere get answered.

This week’s Q&A is brought to us by Mamarazzi and her her new WWTKW co-host Queso.

This week’s questions are:

{1} What would you do with an extra $1000 a month?

{2} What category of blogger do you think you best fall under?

{3} What is your go to solution when you are having a bad hair day?

{4} If you were a Crayon, what color would you be?

{5} They say love is in the little things. What is a little thing someone does to show you love?

Here are my answers:

{1} What would you do with an extra $1000 a month?  Ooooo…that’s kind of a toughie.  Am I getting this extra $1000 every month?  Because if so, I’m probably saving the bulk of it to one day buy a new car.  (Love my Rav, but let’s face it:  It was born in 1997.  It’s friggin’ old.)  That, and paying off my line of credit.

…Oh, who the hell am I kidding.  I’m probably using it to buy more books, movies, clothes, and music.

{2} What category of blogger do you think you best fall under?  I don’t know if I really fall under a certain category.  I’m not a fashion blog, or a recipe blog, or a craft blog, or a mommy blog.  What the hell am I?  I guess I fall into the category of whiny-single-girl blogging?? ;)

{3} What is your go to solution when you are having a bad hair day?   Ha.  That’s pretty much every day.  And my solution of choice these days is to strategically place a pair of sunglasses atop my head.  This hopefully gives the illusion that my wayward hairstyle is because I’ve been at the beach, and have just driven in my convertible with the top down.  Yes, that’s why my hair is half-curly-half-not, totally frizzy, flying all over the place.  Absolutely.

{4} If you were a Crayon, what color would you be?   I never know how to answer this question.  My crayon colour has changed over the years.  I used to say yellow.  I used to say blue.  But honestly?  I think I’m pink.  Which is a colour I once professed to hate.  But you know what?  I kind of like pink now.  I think I’m pink.

{5} They say love is in the little things. What is a little thing someone does to show you love?  I WISH I had one of those romantic answers about something my man does for me.  But I don’t have a flippin’ man.  So this is probably going to sound lame, but it’s when my mom buys me a “treat”.  They used to call me Treat Young when I was a kid because I loved treats, and they were usually saved for special occasions back then.  And now, as an adult, every so often, when I’m at my parents’ place, she’ll have something stowed away that she just magically produces.  An ice cream bar.  A bag of Cheezies.  A chocolate bar.  I think that’s my mama’s way of showing me love.

Great questions again this week!  Go visit Mamarazzi or Queso and get linked up!!

A Giveaway & Tuesday Randomness

First things first - everyone head over to Mom2MemphisAndRuby to take part in a great giveaway! Lena is, once again, offering up an awesome Brittany Chavers creation. You have until midnight tonight to enter to win this beauty:

Choral Dahlia Ring

Hard to resist, am I right? I've been entering quite a few giveaways lately, and haven't won any. Fingers are crossed that I'll finally get some luck this time!! ;)

OK. Back to business. I took yesterday off from blogging because I was cranky and tired. So I have lots to yammer about today. Many different topics floating through my brain. So I'm linking up with Stacy Uncorked's RANDOM TUESDAY.

• I hate storms. We were hit with a couple of bad ones on Sunday night. The earlier one was a vicious wind storm that wreaked all kinds of havoc locally, including blowing down the mainstage at Bluesfest in Ottawa while Cheap Trick was performing on the final night. (Only a few injuries, no fatalities, thank God.) The second one had me sitting on the couch in the middle of the night for two hours, gripping my phone with white knuckles, talking myself out of calling my mom because it was thundering & lightning so bad there was no way I could make myself go out the door to my car to get to her place. I would have literally crapped my pants. We've been having a lot of weird weather lately. Gives me the creeps.



• Remember how I said I was nervous for that bachelorette on Saturday night? Turns out...nothing to be nervous about! It was a blast. Wish I could share pictures, but my camera battery died that night, and I have yet to juice it back up. You'll just have to take my word for it. Touring around the city in a giant limo-party-bus, celebrating Steph's last "single girl night", hitting up bars, sharing lots of laughs and drinks...really, how could it not be a good night?



• It's hot here. Really flippin' hot. And I love it.



• I wish I was on holidays. I took the second week of August, and it seems like it's still eons away. I'm jealous of everyone else who's on holidays now. I have to keep reminding myself that my day is coming...



• My family always teases me about how I like to stretch my birthday festivities out so that they last a long time. Days...sometimes weeks. My dad often calls it "The Queen's Jubilee". Last year, I didn't really get to have a birthday with my family, so I reminded them all of this the other night, and hinted at how they'd better be planning to do it up big to make up for it. My father (who hates - loathes - celebrations of any make, shape, or form) said this: "Oh f*ck."



• Speaking of birthdays...last Friday night at Lone Star was such a great time! I wish we could all go out for a big dinner like that every week! Because we were celebrating 3 upcoming birthdays (Ricky, Josee, and me), the fine people at Lone Star thought it was appropriate to make us wear giant blue cowboy hats and stand on our chairs. Um, excuse me, handsome cowboy waiter? Say what? I'm a very big girl, and this is a very wobbly chair. Methinks not. Thankfully, Josee and Ricky also hesitated at jumping up on their seats. So instead, we stood beside our chairs. Much safer that way.



• One of my favourite moments from the weekend: As my family gathered around the kitchen table to watch the vicious windstorm whip in on Sunday night, my 2-year-old niece Danica stood there, at first watching intently, then scanning our faces, looking quite concerned. She started whimpering, "Mommy...Mommy...Mommy..." but my oblivious sister was too busy watching the storm to notice her little one. Finally Danica shouted, desperately, dramatically, wide-eyed and panicked, "SOMEBODY!!!!"



• She was quickly scooped up and consoled.



• I'm currently in love with Jason Aldean and his Dirt Road Anthem.

Feeling a little random today? Why not get it all out. It feels good. Trust me.

Friday. Time to confess.

There’s nothing better than starting the weekend off fresh, getting all of those niggling little skeletons out of your closet.

Okay, so usually it’s just stupid stuff that I think of.  Nothing really that startling.  But I like it.  If you do too, head on over to Mamarazzi’s and link ‘er up!!

I confess…that I’m insanely excited to go out for dinner with the gang to Lone Star tonight.  We have lots to celebrate in July.  Three birthdays (including my own, wahooo!!) An anniversary.  And lots of awesome baby news.  I could even be forgetting something.

I confess…that I’m insanely nervous about the bachelorette party I’m attending Saturday night.  But I don’t know how much the bride-to-be knows about what we’re doing, so I can’t properly make this confession in case she’s reading.  Let’s just say I think I’m going to be outta my element, and I’m freaking.

I confess…sometimes a movie, my pj’s, and the couch, sound better than going out.  Ya know?

I confess…that thanks to two of my friends’ blog posts today, I’m now paranoid of snakes and earwigs.  Like I wasn’t already.

I confess…that after doing my Zumba game for the Wii religiously for a week, it has been abandoned for the past 7 days.  Life is just too busy in the summer.

I confess…I was very proud of my ladies yesterday.  I expected my car blog to have no comments because everyone found it boring.  Instead, you all impressed me – either by speaking up to join me in the “We Don’t Know Cars Club” or to flash your knowledge on the subject.  Loved it!

I confess…that I told my dad this morning he was the star of my blog yesterday and all I got was a scowl.  Mainly because he has no idea what a blog is.

Have a great weekend, everyone! :)

I don’t know anything about cars. Sorry, Dad.

Can I just ask...what is it with boys and cars?

Okay.  So maybe it's not all boys.  But most boys know cars.

I do not know cars.  I have a car fanatic for a father, but I have not absorbed any of his knowledge on the subject.  I know when I see a car I like.  And I can detect some cars upon sight without being told.  Easy ones, like a Sunfire, a Taurus, a Rav (of course).

But otherwise?  No.  I might take note of colour, and that is it.

My dad's specialty is old cars, natch.  Lately, due to health issues, there isn't much he can do.  So he sits at the head of the kitchen table and looks out the big front window.  The highlights of his day are when he spies the fox that has been running around the neighbourhood for about a year now.  Or if there are deer up on the hill across the road.  He keeps his binocs handy just for occasions such as these.

The real excitement, though, comes when someone's out tooling around in an old car.

He will literally interrupt a conversation to tell you the year and make of the car.

"That's a '63 Ford Mustang something-something-blah-blah."  (Of course, I have no idea what the car might really be called.)  Usually followed by, "That's a nice car."

Sometimes, he might even say, "I used to have a car like that."

See, by the time I came along, my dad's days of owning cool cars was over.  By then, he had graduated on to pick-up trucks.  No more Mustangs.  All I had were the illustrious tales of him and his Mustang racing my uncle and his Corvette.

For reals, people.  They did this.  Apparently in the days before there were these things called laws.

My dad's a Ford man (we are a Ford family, despite what my brother's Pontiac G5 and my Toyota Rav 4 might lead you to believe...)  And to be honest, I've had a crush on an old yellow Mustang convertible since my teen years.

But I don't know what friggin' year it is.

(This is a picture of the one I like.  It is clearly not even that old.)

I'm completely amazed when Dad can watch a car drive by the house and tell me the year, make, model, and any other detail that can be spouted off about cars.  I always have the notion to look around for some big secret guide to cars that he must keep hidden under his chair or something.

How do guys just know this stuff??  My dad doesn't even remember my name half the time.  He probably couldn't even tell you how old he is.  But a car?  That's a breeze.

They all look the same to me…

It frustrates my dad that I don't know more about cars.  Especially when I crash into them.

Like this past April, when I had a fender bender in Aylmer.  After asking the usual questions, in his not-impressed-you're-such-a-dummy voice, like "Was everyone okay?  Did you exchange information?  Why the hell were you looking back at Caden when you should have been looking forward?" - you know, the typical crusty dad questions - he then moved on to car questions.

"What damage did you do to the other car?"

"Um...well...it was crunched in a little bit.  But not much."

"What do you mean, crunched in?   How hard did you hit him?"

"Well...It felt like I hit him hard, but we were barely moving, so it couldn't have been that hard...There was no damage to my car.  So it was just crunched in a bit.  Like a ding."

"A ding or a dent?"

"Um...I don't know...a bit more like a dent, I guess.  But not a big dent."

"What kind of car was it?  Where did you hit him?"

"I hit him above the back bumper."

"What kind of car was it??"

"Umm...a silver car?  A hatchback maybe?"

You see?  These answers are not what he's looking for.  These answers frustrate the hell out of him.

But I seriously don't know cars.  I've been accused of being a snob because I do not wave to friends when I meet them on the road.  My apologies to all of you who have experienced this problem with me, but seriously, I don't know what you drive.

I've waved at people before when I did not know them.  Because I'm all like, "Okay, this looks like Lynn's car, I have to wave at her," and then I give the big friendly wave, and it turns out it is not Lynn's car, not even close.  And then I imagine that the people in the other car were looking at me funny, and laughing at me, and then I get embarrassed.

Stupid.  I know.  But so true.

So, are you a car buff?  Do you know this boy stuff?  Am I the only dunce out there who can’t rhyme off car facts?

Or please, please, please…tell me I’m not alone.

You know you want to know…

I seriously love Wednesdays.  The “We Want to Know Wednesday” link-up is one of my faves, hosted by these ladies: Mamarazzi, Impulsive Addict, Seriously Shawn, and Janette.  I love seeing what questions they have for us, pondering my answers, then posting them here.  Plus, I don’t have to think up some other topic for a post.  It’s just like, “It’s WWTK Wednesday.  DONE!”

Word on the street is that this week will be the last for Shawn and Impulsive Addict to co-host, so I hope to come up with some good answers to these questions for their farewell!  Thanks for being such great hostesses, ladies! And I’m so glad Mamarazzi and Janette are carrying on!

This week’s questions are:

{1} Which activities make you lose track of time?

{2} Is there such a thing as perfect?

{3} When do you feel most like yourself?

{4} Describe your life in a 6 word sentence.

{5} Share one of your most beloved childhood memory.

And these  are my answers…

{1} Which activities make you lose track of time? Anything interwebby.  Facebook, blogging, checking emails…then all of a sudden, WHOOPS!  Had no friggin’ clue I was farting around that long.  Also, reading.  But it has to be a damned good book.  One I can get lost it.  Then all of a sudden, look up and realize I’ve been reading for two hours.  Doesn’t happen often, but it can!

{2} Is there such a thing as perfect? I don’t know about perfection when it comes to human beings, but I do believe there are things and events that can be perfect.  When I stood on the beach in Cuba for the first time, looking out at the ocean, wind whipping my hair and salt water stinging my legs for the first time, I thought, “This is perfect.”  I’ve been at weddings before where you stand around afterwards and say, “That was just perfect.”  Or hear a song for the first time that just clicks with you…that feels pretty perfect.  So yes, I think things can be perfect.  But we, as people?  I don’t know if it’s possible to achieve perfection.  Other than newborn babies…they are pretty close, I think. ;)

{3} When do you feel most like yourself? When I’m with my family or friends, doing things I’m comfortable doing.  As long as I feel comfortable, I feel like myself.  For instance, last Friday, paintballing for Brenda’s birthday?  Didn’t feel like myself at that.  Later that night at Gavan’s, getting drunk?  Yup.  That felt right.  ;)  Also, when I’m writing.  It’s just sort of this feeling that comes over me, like, “Yes, this is what you’re supposed to be doing, Jill.”

{4} Describe your life in a 6 word sentence. Content, yet always praying for fulfillment.

{5} Share one of your most beloved childhood memories.  One of my favourite things to do as a child was go “camping” with my family.  When Mom and Dad started talking about getting ready to either go to Aunt Marion & Uncle Eric’s camp, or to Achray Station in Algonquin Park, I knew good times were on the horizon.  One summer day at the camp – I would’ve been about ten years old - Aunt Marion and I decided to go out in the canoe.  I had never been canoeing before, so she said she would teach me.  My mom told us she was sure we would flip it.  Aunt Marion scoffed (in her dry, sarcastic humour), “Oh come on!  If the Indians can do it, we can do it!”  So off we went in our canoe.  We made it out to the end of the dock before flipping it.  About twenty-five feet from shore.  I can still hear my mom laughing on the beach, shouting, “'If the Indians can do it’, eh?!” 

Another memory from the camp?  My brother and I out in the paddleboat.  It had a boat oar in it in case you got stuck on rocks, to shove yourself off.  Luke would get so mad at me because he’d be paddling away, and I’d just be dipping the oar in the water like as if I was in a real row boat, singing Pocahontas songs.  “Just around the river bend!!!!” at the top of my lungs.  Good times.

Want to join in with WWTK Wednesday?  Click any of the names above and link up!!

The Single Girl Files: "Plenty of Fish" My ASS.

I'm about to make an embarrassing confession.

But that's what The Single Girl Files is all about, right? That's why you're here. That's why you're reading. To snicker and point and make fun of the lame confessions of a lonely single girl who finds herself in ridiculous situations while looking for love. Am I right?

You know it.

So today, I'm going to tell you something that I have only told a few close friends and family members.

Last summer... I joined a dating website.

(Don't even bother going to search for me, you creeps. It's deleted now.)

Yep. I got so desperate that I joined one of those "looking for love? let's find your matches!" corn-ball websites. More and more people were starting to recommend it, suggest it, gently nudge me towards it, so I thought, "What the hell. It can't hurt, right?"

Oh, but it did.

It hurt. A lot. Deep, excruciating pain.

Not even the weirdos and creepers of the interwebs were interested in me!!!!!!

I'm not even joking.

I wrote a delightfully peppy bio, totally trying to make myself sound like the absolute perfect girlfriend (and future wife). "I love to cook! I love hanging out at the ball field or hockey rink. I watch sports on TV all the time!" Like, seriously, boys. What is there not to love about me?

I drew the line at writing, "I'll even do your laundry and clean up after you for the rest of your life!!!" (...but y'know, that's an offer that's on the table. No word of a lie.)

Then, I posted a whole bunch of pictures of me from about a year earlier, when I was a good ten pounds lighter, nicely tanned from the summer sun, and doing all kinds of fun things. Dancing at my friend's wedding. Hanging out with friends playing flip cup. Wearing a Sens jersey at Scotiabank Place. I was seriously pleased with myself. I looked at those pictures, and thought, "Wow, what a fun girl!! Who wouldn't want to date that?"

You know who wanted to date that? Middle-aged men. With big beards. And even bigger beer guts.

Joy to the friggin' world.

I knew someone who joined the same site not long before me, and she was getting all kinds of messages from possible internet boyfriend candidates. She told me what a great boost to the ego it was. "You should definitely join! They're so complimentary and sweet!"

No. No, they weren't. 85% of the few messages I received, I ignored. Part of it was definitely being shallow, and maybe I should've been more open-minded, but when many of them were listing their age as over 40, I was immediately disregarding them. Quite a few I ignored based solely on an unattractive profile picture. A few others I abandoned because they listed they had children. Some of the messages they sent were creepy. Some of the messages they sent were crude.

Nearly all of them were not what I imagined myself someday ending up with.

So that's when a friend of mine who had some experience with this site suggested I go on the attack. "Don't wait for them to message you. Start browsing profiles and send out some messages of your own to the ones you're interested in. What have you got to lose?"

This prospect frightened me a little, but I figured, hey, why not? What's the point of joining a lovematch dating site if I'm just going to hide in the corner and wait for the loser interweb creeps to hunt me down?

I started searching the pages upon pages of profile pictures, and any guy I was attracted to, or who had a witty or inviting bio, I sent them a message. Tried to keep it short and flirty, and included a question which would hopefully incite a response.

It very rarely did. The few conversations that were sparked fizzled out very quickly.

I was a complete failure at Internet dating.

There was only one profile that I came across that I was truly interested in, and it was of a guy who I already knew. Believe it or not, I didn't recognize him in his little thumbnail profile pic, so I clicked on him and started reading his profile and realized, "Holy F, I KNOW THIS GUY".

You must understand the reason for the instant panic: every registered user is able to view who has looked at their profile. I was flustered at the thought of him scanning his recent views and realizing that I was one of them.

I mean, yes, this was a guy who I had a crush on. But did I want to make that known to him on a crapola dating website?? NO WAY. But I couldn't completely pretend like it hadn't happened, right? He would SEE that I had creeped him!! So I sent him a message basically saying, "DAMMIT, I hate when I click on people I know accidentally!! Yikes!! You can't tell anyone I'm on here!!" Interspersed with plenty of nervous LOL's.

He laughed it off, and told how lame the site had become. That was it.

That brief message exchange? It was the only one that I was excited about. The only one that made the butterflies stir in my stomach.

Not long after, I deleted my profile. My forage into Internet dating was a massive fail. It did not boost my confidence or make me feel better about myself. It made me feel worse. It was no different than standing at a bar or at a ball field or at a party, and watching all the other single girls get scooped up ahead of me. In fact, it was even more depressing, knowing that there were all kinds of weirdos and cyberstalkers out there, and my profile wasn't even enticing them.

All the success stories people had thrown my way? They only magnified the fact that I wasn't having any success. At all.

Friends and family still suggest different websites that I should try. I quickly report to them that I've "been there, done that, don't think I'll bother ever again". They laugh when I tell them that not even the Interweb creepers were interested in me, and they insist I didn't give it a fair shot.

I'm telling you, I did.

And I have no interest in going back to "fish" again!!

Man Candy Monday (OLD Man Candy)

So. I kind of have a crush.  On two old men.

No, I’m not being weird and gross.  I think these two old men were hot, when they were young men. 

See, I watched both The Way We Were and Love Story last week.  Ever since I saw the episode of SATC when Carrie relates to the character of Katie (and identifies Big as Hubbell) in The Way We Were, I’ve been wanting to see it.

Then, I watched an old episode of Oprah not long ago where she was chatting with the stars of the chick flick classic Love Story, so I added it to my list of old movies I wanted to see, too.

I bought both movies and really enjoyed them.  I liked The Way We Were better than Love Story, but I was glad I saw both of them.

And that brings me to my two new old man crushes.

Robert Redford and Ryan O’Neal.  Young Robert Redford and Ryan O’Neal.  Not the 75- and 70-year-old men they are now.  That would be creepy.

Take a look:

 

Redford as Hubbell in The Way We Were

Um…yeah.  Hot.

 With co-star Barbara Streisand, who played Katie in The Way We Were

 O’Neal as Oliver Barrett IV in Love Story

Love.  Love this face.

 With co-star Ali McGraw, who played Jenny Cavalleri  in Love Story

There’s just something about black-and-white photos of old movie stars in their prime…am I right??

So.  I know I’m not the first one to discover these guys.  They’ve kind of been famous for, like, fifty years.

Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate ‘em on Man Candy Monday.

Hope you can at least understand the appreciation.

Confession Day

It’s that time of the week again…Linking up with Mamarazzi for Friday Confessional!

I confess…that this morning is taking toooo long.  I’m off at noon today.  So of course, the morning is NEVER ENDING.

I confess…that I’m extremely excited to hang out at the ball park this weekend.  The Quyon Flyers are hosting their annual 3-pitch fundraiser tourney.  Last year, two guys had a late-night base-running competition.  Naked.  I’m serious.  It’s that much fun.

I confess…that I still feel a little anger and disappointment towards my brother for not playing fastpitch tournaments this year.  Being a Flyers fan isn’t the same when you miss all the excitement of the tourneys.

I confess…that it feels like there’s been a lot of bad news floating around this week.  It makes me feel queasy.  I hope the bad stuff stays away from my family & I this summer.  I think we got our fair share of it last summer.

I confess… that I’m a little jealous of my friends who have been announcing pregnancies lately.  I hope they share their babies with me.

I confess…that when I joke around with them that I’d buy their kids off of them…I’m only half-joking.

I confess…that the musty smell that still lingers from my flooded basement is starting to creep all over the house.  Ignoring it isn’t really working.  *sigh*

I confess…I can’t believe I still have another whole HOUR before I’m done work.  UGH!!

And that’s all I’ve got this week!  Have a great weekend everyone!! :)

We Want to Know THURSDAY.

I’m a day late, but I really wanted to share my answers to yesterday’s “We Want to Know Wednesday” questions!  This linky party is hosted by Mamarazzi, Impulsive Addict, Janette, and Seriously Shawn.

 Here are this week’s questions and my answers:

1. Name five of your favorite new blogs that you're reading.  Like several others, I’m pleading the fifth here!  I don’t want to hurt feelings.  But I’ll tell you my new recent fave, which I never, ever skim over in my Google Reader (sorry, some days are busy, and I skim!) – and that is UpperBottom.  Go visit Rachel.  She’s hilarious.

2. When you were a young child or teenager, did you have an idea of how many children you wanted and what their names would be?  Did you follow through on your ideas?  Ha!  This kind of goes back to my baby name post a few weeks ago, but as a child/teen, I swore I was going to have 6 kids.  Their names were going to be Charlie, Michael, Jaime, Madelyn, Johnny, and Oliver.  I don’t have any kids yet, and of course, that number has decreased, but I still like all of those names.  I’d now settle for two kids, and my names are Charlie and Maribeth.

3. What is the silliest thing you fight with someone about?  It could be your spouse, sibling, parents, co-worker, etc.  Oh, can’t think of any recent fights (although my friend Brenda, if she’s reading this, would draw attention to the time I bit her when she tried to take my car keys one drunken night…)  I think probably my silliest fight ever was with a classmate in college.  Remember the story of The Captain of Heat?  This friend had the same crush.  He gave her a pen, and I recall us having a real drawn-out fight over who got to keep it.  Really.  Could I get any sillier??

4. What is your favorite scent that others may not find very nice? Ex. gasoline, sweat from your sweetie, etc.    I guess my strangest “favourite scent” is the country… Which, by extension, means cow manure.  It smells like that often around here, and I just love it. 

5. What are your thoughts on plastic surgery? (Have you had it? Want it? Regrets?)  I have never had plastic surgery, and while I like the idea of it (Make my boobs bigger? Please!  Liposuction?  Sure!!) – I don’t know if I could ever go through with it.  The thought of surgery scares me.  I’ve seen too many botched jobs on Grey’s. ;)

So…It’s kind of too late this week to join in the fun, since this was supposed to be done yesterday.  But stay tuned next week for the usual WWTK Wednesday post, and follow any of the links above to find it!!

My Long-Ass Canada Day Weekend, In Pictures.

Remember last week, when I bragged about how awesome Canada Day is in my town?

I didn't lie. This year, it was - once again - an amazing night of celebrations!

I took Monday off (in honour of my American friends, of course) to really extend my long weekend, and I must say, she was a beaut.

The only excitement I missed out on, it seems, was Will & Kate on Parliament Hill for Canada Day, but rest assured, I watched the news and soaked up their visit as well! What a memorable Canada Day weekend!!

Here are some pictures from the Quyon Canada Day party, good times at a friend's cottage, swimming with the niece and nephew, and at the beach with friends!


*Disclaimer: I don't want to hear anyone saying, "Hey, take that picture of me down!" (I'm lookin' at you, Ashley!!)

Brittany, Krista & I

Canada Day Committee members workin' the bar

With some of the ladies on the dance floor

Wondering why I have Canada flags wrapped around my neck? These were decorations I hung up around the bar that the guys didn't like because they couldn't see past them. They ripped them down, so I wrapped them around my neck. Super-safe, I'm sure. I told everyone all night long that I wasn't going to let the money I spent on decorations go to waste. Truth is, I got this out of a box of decorations from last year. I really think I just wanted to wear them.

The Cousin Photo...

Jello SHOTS!!

Erin, Joe, and Ashley

(Before the Great Bun Mishap of 2011...)

My bro Luke and his...er...large goblet of red wine (?!??!!??)

Saturday at the Cottage!! (Thanks again for the invite, Amanda!!)

Hot tubbin'

Sunday. My niece Danica in her he-man swim suit. And her mommy's flip flops.

You know how awesome my niece & nephew are? Hottest day of the summer yet, and they didn't want to go swimming until Mickey's Christmas Carol was over. (Clearly, Auntie needs to get some more "seasonal" kids movies...)

Perfect day for a swim!!

Danica in her he-man swim suit and two pairs of floaties. All she wanted to do was sit on the ladder. But if she fell in, we had no doubt she was going to float...

Monday = Beach Day!! The whole crew at the water's edge in Norway Bay.

Charlotte, Jessica & Kaylee...All three babes looking at the same time. Miracle!!

So yeah. I loved my long weekend. I wish it had never ended. It was such a great four days of eating, drinking, swimming, sunshine, and great friends and family.

Isn't that what it's all about??

Hope you all had a great weekend celebrating Canada Day and/or the 4th of July!! Let's hear it for summer holidays! WOO-HOO!!!! :)