I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell.

I had an odd little exchange here in the office this morning, and it’s got my wheels turning. 

Of course it does.  And I’m probably over-thinking things, but…well…that’s kind of what I do best.  Over-think things.

Anyways.  I was barely in the door this morning until my co-worker, friend, and just all-round great guy, Rolly, walked in the office.  He was doing his usual Tazmanian-Devil-spin around the office, when he suddenly ground to a halt at my desk and said, “Jilly, you know what?  This morning, I woke up to my alarm clock just blaring this great song, and I coulda swore it was you singing.”

See, Rolly is this amazing musician.  Like, uh.may.zing.  A pure and beautiful talent that I feel so fortunate and blessed to know.   While I share his absolute love for all different kinds of music, I could never in a million years hope to be as awesome as he is. 

Despite this, Rolly has always nurtured my interest in playing guitar, recommended songs for me to listen to, and offered to help me out with learning more and how to improve my playing.

The fact of the matter is, I lack the raw talent.  I love to play, I love to sing, but I happen to know I sound like a howling cat.  Or nails on a chalkboard.  Whatever.  No matter how much wisdom Rolly imparts on me, I’ll never be that good.  He knows this.  I know this.  And yet, Rolly has always – always -  encouraged me.

So when he told me I sounded like someone on the radio, all I could do was laugh, roll my eyes, and say, “Thanks, Roll – you were half asleep, but I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“No!” he said, “It really did sound like you!  Beautiful voice!”

So again, I give my awkward uncomfortable I-know-I-suck-but-thanks-anyways chuckle, and in an effort to change the subject, I say, “You know, I don’t remember the last time I picked up my guitar…”

Which is a lie.  I know exactly the last time I picked up my guitar.  It was about a month ago.  I played two songs, and my fingers felt like they were being stabbed with knives.  Because prior to that, I hadn’t picked it up since Christmas Eve.  My fingertips have gone soft, no longer calloused; so out of practice that they almost don’t even know what to do anymore…

Rolly offered me a smile, and said, “Well you should.  Pick it back up again.  It’ll make you feel better.”

And then he was gone. 

I sat down, and let the words run through my mind again. 

I frowned.

It’ll make me feel better?  What’s that supposed to mean?  Have I been giving people the impression that I’m *not* feeling well or something?

And then I gave my head a shake.  Truth be told?  I know exactly what he means. 

I’ve been doing some soul-searching lately.  Trying to get back to doing the things that make me happy; that make me me.  It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Rolly has noticed I’ve been off my game for a while now.

I know that I’ve kind of been unwell.  I try not to dwell on it.  I try to ignore it at all costs, in fact.  Sure, it’s been a rough year, but everybody goes through rough times and they survive.  You keep trudging on, you keep smiling, and you’ll be OK.  Eventually.

But I seem to have let go of a few of the things that have always nourished my soul.  I don’t write anymore, save for these blog posts.  And I don’t play guitar anymore.  At all.

How did I let this stuff go?  Why?  When did I become so wrapped up in my own self that I forgot about all of the things that once made me who I am?  The things that I looked forward to?  The things that help me unwind?

Who cares if I sound like nails on a chalkboard?  I sounded like that before and it never stopped me.  Nobody ever came up to me and said, “Just stop.  Now.  You’re horrible.”

But now, I just keep thinking, “I’m no good, why bother?”

Why bother?   Because it makes me happy.

The soul-searching has definitely turned up that realization.  And Rolly’s comment – the “pick it back up, it’ll make you feel better” – has really hit home this morning.

I’ve been unwell.  It’s time to start feeling better again.

It’s time to get back to being me.

I think I’ll start with that ol’ guitbox.

My Top 3

So.  Yesterday, I was visiting one of my favourite bloggers, Raven, and she was doing this “Top 3” thang that I thought looked like a lot of fun. 

Now, I know I’m not supposed to quote the Raven, but she said she thinks you can tell a lot about a person by their top 3 choices in life.  I totally agree.

So that’s what you’re getting today.  My Top 3.  Enjoy.

Top 3 Movies

• Top Gun
• Signs
• A Time To Kill

(Honourable mentions to go The Little Mermaid, Blue Hawaii, White Squall, Dirty Dancing, and Jerry Maguire.)

Yes.  I like me some Tom Cruise.  My older sister was a little bit obsessed with him as a teen, and she watched Top Gun.  Like, a lot.  Hence, I watched Top Gun a lot too.  And to this day, I still think it’s one of the best.movies.ever.  As for Signs, it’s my favourite of the M. Night Shyalaman (or whatever the heck his name is) flicks.  Makes me think, every time.  And gives me the creeps.  Double bonus.   A Time To Kill - it was one I shared with my dad.  Very rarely could I pick a movie that he actually liked, but that one?  He loved it.  I still do.  (And it was back when Matt McConaughey was young and sexy instead of aging and skeezy…)

Top 3 Actors

• Tom Cruise
• Bruce Willis
• Channing Tatum

(Honourable mentions go to Ryan Gosling, Josh Hartnett, Matt Damon, Heath Ledger, and Mark Wahlberg.)

I know, I know.  Tom Cruise is crazy.  Whatever.  I love him, despite the crazy.  And as I shared A Time to Kill with my dad, I share Bruce Willis with my mom.  We quite enjoy him.  (We joke that we only go to the theatre for Bruce – we once saw Armageddon, The Sixth Sense, and The Whole Nine Yards in a very short span of time.)  Now, I realize Channing Tatum might not have the years of experience behind him, but if Channing Tatum is in it… I’m going.  End of story.

Top 3 Actresses

• Sandra Bullock
• Katherine Heigl
• Connie Britton

(Honorable mention to Drew Barrymore and Michelle Pfeiffer.)

I could talk about boys all damned day, but I honestly don’t pay much attention to actresses.  However, a quick scan of my DVD shelf shows a lot of Bullock and a lot of Heigl.  (Plus, KH is my twin, so I had to  pick her. ha!)  And then, there’s Connie Britton…maybe not so famous, but I’m watching Friday Night Lights on DVD these days, and I adore her, y’all.  (I’m saying that in my Connie-Britton-as-Tami-Taylor twang, fyi.)  I know she played the same role on the big-screen version too.  Girl is awesome.

Top 3 Country Singers

• Tim McGraw
• Martina McBride
• Keith Urban

(Honourable mentions to a hundred billion others, but most especially right now, Chad Brownlee.  J’adore.)

Holy mother of pearl, that was next-to-impossible to pick.  I love me lots of different kinds of music, but country is near and dear to my heart, and choosing just 3?  Tough.  REALLY tough.  But I went back in my mind and tried to think of what CDs have got the most play out of my collection, and those three singers stand the test of time for me.  I had to do a toss-up between Keith Urban and Kenny Chesney, but what it came down to was the hair.  I prefer Keith’s.  But  I don’t hold Kenny’s baldness against him, promise.

Top 3 TV Shows

• Friends
• Grey’s Anatomy
• Sex & The City

(Honourable mentions to Friday Night Lights and The Big Bang Theory.)

Friends is always in steady rotation in my DVD player.  When Season 10 ends, we start all over again.  They still crack me up on a daily basis.  Grey’s has provided me with so much hotness over the years that I can’t help but rank it as an all-time favourite.  Plus, I just really think it’s a good combo of funny, touching, and dramatic.  And I didn’t start watching SATC until after it was all over, but I quickly became good friends with Carrie, Samantha, Miranda & Charlotte.  Love it.  They have taught me A LOT.

Top 3 Travel Destinations

• Ireland
• Hawaii
• Cuba

I have done very little travelling in my lifetime… So I’m considering it my Top 3 places I dream of going to.  The only one I’ve actually been to is Cuba, and I loved it there, I’d go back in a heartbeat.  Ireland and Hawaii?  Hopefully someday…

Top 3 Books

• The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
• Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
• The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins

(Honourable mentions to anything by Emily Giffin, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, and…yes…the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer.)

That was also really, really tough.  I went with selections that I remember not being able to put down – books I whirled through within a few days (but were of a slightly higher caliber of writing than 50 Shades…)  And also, they were stories that did not leave me immediately.  I still think about The Kite Runner.  Things that happened in that book can still make me feel sick to my stomach.  To have that kind of impact on me?  I consider that a damned good book…

Top 3 Curse Words

• Fack
• Gaddammit
• Mothertrucker

OK, those are the blog-friendly versions.  I swear a lot.  More than my mother would like.  Meh.  I work with 35 men.  What do you expect?!

Alrighty.  So what are YOUR Top 3?  And what do you think my choices say about me??  (go easy)

Random ramblings on this lovely Tuesday morn.

• I’m in a really frigging good mood today.  I have no idea why.  But I thought I should report this, since last week I was disgruntled and cranky and whiny and bitchy.  I told you guys I’d come around eventually!
• The good mood may have to do with the number of chocolate chip cookies floating around this office.  The really really good kind from Costco.  They are leftovers from the UPA Farm Tour on Sunday.  I *may* have eaten my weight in cookies in the past three days…

• This admission might have you wondering if I’ve fallen off the better-eating-and-exercising wagon.  Well, not really.  Only the cookies.  Otherwise, I’m still behaving.  Promise.
• Yesterday, I devoted my entire blog to my brother and his birthday.  I was thankful when I saw him last night at his ball game that he didn’t murder me with his eyeballs.  I did, however, know enough to keep my yap shut when the ladies in the stands decided to sing happy birthday to him post-game.  That might have been the final nail in my coffin had I joined in…
• It was a chilly night at the ball field last night – so chilly, that I did not partake in any ball park beers.  Well, that, and I couldn’t deal with another hangover like I had last Friday morning.  And also, because I didn’t have my “orangutans” with me, as one of the players remarked.   That’s right – my “orangutans” are a bad influence on me.

• I would like to spell it “orangatangs” but spell check disagrees with me.
• The boys won big last night, mercying the Ottawa Blitz 7-0 after 5 innings.  Now they can finish this off tomorrow night in Manotick, with the game going at 9 PM.  Mother and I are trying to decide if we are really dedicated enough to make the trek for such a late game… I’m still entirely undecided…
• Back to Luke’s birthday for a minute… his in-laws got him a level and a stud finder.  Us?  We got him a hockey stick.  Priorities, you know.
• I am very glad that he got a level and stud finder, though.  Now he has no excuse to not come and put up the shelves that I bought ALMOST A YEAR AGO.  I was just waiting for him to get the necessary tools to do this job for me.  Yay!
• My friend Sharon texted me on Friday night to inform me that Ryan Gosling has been cast to play Christian Grey in the 50 Shades movie.  I sulked.  I have since done some searching on the interwebs, and can’t find any hard evidence to back this casting story up.  Phewf.  No offence to Ryan Gosling, I think he’s a total hottie tottie.  But if Ian Somerhalder is not Christian Grey, I’m going to cry.

• Speaking of Ian Somerhalder… today is the day The Vampire Diaries Season 3 comes out on DVD.  Yes, my Amazon order has been placed.  I hope to be caught up by the time Season 4 begins in October.  Watching Ian Somerhalder as Damon every night for a month?  Shouldn’t be a problem…
• I feel as though I haven’t devoted an appropriate amount of blog space to Chad Brownlee yet.  Not my friend Priscilla’s husband, but the hockey-player-turned-country-star whom I fell in love with at the Shawville Fair.  I caught his performance on the CCMA’s Sunday night, and the dude can literally make me swoon.  I do believe he’s pretty much a Canadian girl’s dream.  I adore him.

• I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention 9/11 today, on the 11th anniversary.  It’s unbelievable to me that it all happened 11 years ago… the memories come back in a heartbeat, as if it was yesterday.  I was a scared college kid, not quite understanding what exactly it all meant, but knowing that the world had changed forever.  It was the first time I’d known a fear that deep.  Reflecting and remembering today, 11 years later…

Linking up today with Impulsive Addict and Shawn for Talk To Us Tuesday…

…as well as Stacy Uncorked for Random Tuesday!

To the Superstar, on his 27th birthday.

It was a fairly jam-packed weekend of fun.  To say the very least.

After kicking it all off Thursday night with those damned ball park beers (…they get me every time…), I went on a wild bus ride through the Pontiac for Lynn’s bachelorette party Friday night; I sang the Coconut Song on-stage with Gail Gavan at Community Day on Saturday night; I worked the refreshment table at Mountainview on Sunday for the UPA Farm Tour; and then went to my mom’s to join the family in celebrating my brother getting older.

As per usual, I have no pictures uploaded yet.  So instead of a “here’s my weekend in photos” post, I think I’ll take the opportunity to talk a little bit about my brother “The Superstar” on this fabulous occasion of his 27th birthday. 

He just looooves my blog - and especially likes it when I talk about him – so, yes, this should definitely make his flippin’ day.

Yesterday, as we gathered for Chinese food and cake in his honour, it was impossible not to take a look back on the past year and marvel at all that has happened – all that has changed – in the short span of one year.  Not only for my little brother, but for our whole family.

Last year, when Luke celebrated his 26th birthday, he and Amanda had just recently become home owners.  He was still about a month away from asking her to marry him. 

By the end of November, we received the blessed news that the soon-to-be-newlyweds also had a baby on the way. And by February, they said their “I do's”, a wonderful yet bittersweet event that will forever be intertwined in our hearts and memories with the passing of our dad. 

Photo courtesy of Lestanto Photography

Then of course, in June, we welcomed the newest member of our family when Luke & Amanda brought beautiful Baby Neve into the world.

People say a lot can happen in a year.  I’m pretty sure Luke is now the poster boy for that statement.  In the span of less than a year, he became both a husband and a father.  A friend of his recently joked that he’s going to be teaching a new college course:  “How to get your life together in a year or less.”

But really, could we expect anything less from The Superstar?  ;)

Photo courtesy of Lestanto Photography

I don’t often give Luke a whole lot of praise – mainly because he mocks me and teases me relentlessly, like a good brother should -  but I have to say he’s impressed me this past year.  It was kind of like watching a boy become a man, and while I’m insanely jealous that he got to have a baby BEFORE ME – I guess I’m kind of a little bit maybe proud of him.  Sorta.

He’s good peeps.

Happy 27th, Superstar.  Please win your ball game tonight. 

And I hope this redeems me for not getting you a birthday card.

Your Palm Bay is still waiting for you in the fridge.

Hungover Friday Confessions

I would rather be in bed right now.  Instead, I’m here.  Confessing.  Somebody get me a damned medal.

I confess…that I seem to be getting more reckless and irresponsible in my old age.  All week, I’ve been psyching myself up for a very busy weekend – Lynn’s bachelorette bus tour tonight, Community Day tomorrow, and working at the UPA Farm Tour at Mountainview on Sunday.  Maybe toss a birthday party for my brother in there somewhere.  So what do I do to rest up and prepare?? Get drunk at the ball field on Thursday night.  How clever of me.

I confess…that coffee is my best friend this morning.  On my second mug now.  Thoroughly enjoying the Starbucks Instant Mocha from my friend Sharon.  Mmmmm…

I confess…that I may have volunteered to work at the UPA Farm Tour on Sunday, but I have no idea what UPA stands for.  Unidentified People of Agriculture?  Ultimate Producers of Agriculture?  United Plans for Agriculture?  Really not sure, but because it’s a farm tour, I’m thinking Agriculture must be the “A”.

I confess…that this Shawville Fair Beer Tent Cold has become rather legendary this week.  I think everybody and their brother has it. Considering the events planned this coming weekend, and the fact that not much rest and relaxation time is on the schedule – I’m wondering what kind of epidemic might be next?  Scarlet Fever for everyone next week?

I confess…that I haven’t cleaned my house in a really frigging long time.  And I really don’t know when I might get around to doing it.  Maybe in October.

I confess…I’ve been really good to plug in what I eat into MyFitnessPal.  But I haven’t been so good to plug in the alcoholic beverages… Yesterday, I stayed under my calorie goal!  Yay!  (Except I didn’t enter the beers.  I think that means I’m cheating.)

I confess…I really don’t even like beer.  Like, at all.

I confess…that I truly appreciate all the comments and emails I got yesterday on my Single Girl Files post.  I swear, I write those posts mainly to entertain, not to get validation that I’m a worthy and lovable person – but it still doesn’t hurt to hear it.  Thanks, dudes. :)

I confess…that my travel mug today says “Chocolate, Men & Coffee – Some things are better RICH!”  And I couldn’t agree more.

That’s all I’ve got this morning, folks.  Have a wonderful weekend!  Pray that I survive!!!

The Single Girl Files: It’s MY damned turn!!!

Lost my place in the line again, put it back on the shelf and let the dust settle in…

You guys know that Serena Ryder song?  “All For Love”? 

It’s kind of my Single Girl Anthem.

And that lyric up there?  It’s been on my mind a lot lately.

I’ve just been kind of wondering.  You know.  When is it going to be MY turn in line?

This “find a husband” game?   It’s kind of a tricky little pain-in-the-ass game.  Granted, I’ve given myself some very tricky parameters to work with – small town, high standards, great expectations, and all that – but it’s a game that I seem to be losing at. 

Big time.

We single people?  We really are all like in a line-up, waiting our turn.  Like a bunch of goofs.  Waiting for our opportunity to get off the bench and play the game.  Just waiting for a chance, you know? 

And there’s a really big reason why I keep losing my damn place in line.

Because people who have already had a turn keep jumping back in line in front of me again.

No.frigging.fair.

When I was younger – in my late teens, early twenties – competition was tough.  All of my friends were single and, quite frankly, they were better “players” than me.  More attractive, better at flirting, more outgoing – and of course they had me beat in the self-esteem department.  Clearly. ;)

I didn’t really worry too much about it back then.  I figured if I waited my turn, eventually all of the competition would thin out.  Would the pool of options be as deep?  No, probably not.  Would there not be new, younger competitors entering the game all the time?  Absolutely. But at least with less competition in my own age bracket, I’d have more of an opportunity.  And I just hoped against hope that there would be a diamond in the rough, waiting for me.

I never factored in the possibility that by the time I was in my late-twenties, still single and looking, still waiting for my turn to play – that some of those old competitors would be returning to the game!!!

Gaddamn them.

Here’s an example – not really a situation that directly affects me, but one that opened my eyes to this problem earlier this year.

It was Quyon Canada Day Golf Tournament day, back in late May.  I was sitting at the table selling drink tickets with my friend and fellow committee member, Susie.  And then this guy – whom I shall call “D-Mack” – came and sat down with us. 

(Sidenote:  I realize, for those of you who are local, that “D-Mack” is not a very secretive “code name”.  And if D-Mack knew I was using him in a story on my blog, he’d probably be very, very pissed off at me.  So don’t any of you shitheads tell him!!!)

OK. Back to the story.

So we’re sitting there, selling booze tickets, and D-Mack is yapping away to Susie, but I was only catching bits and pieces of what he was saying.  I finally said to her, “What the heck is he talking about?”

She kind of laughed and said, “Well, he’s telling me about how badly he wants to find a woman.  And he’s asking me to think good thoughts for him, and to pray for him.  To pray that he finds a good girl.”

And then I was all like, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa…HOLD THE FLIPPING PHONE!!!  We are not going to pray for YOU to find someone!!!  You have HAD YOUR TURN.  You have grown up kids.  You have HAD YOUR CHANCES.  If we are going to be saying any prayers for anyone to find a good person to fall in love with them, we will be saying those prayers for ME!!!”

Of course, D-Mack just laughed at me. 

And then, once again, told Susie to pray for him.

Another case in point?  Earlier this summer, my sister told me about being at a party and hearing some of her single friends lamenting the lack of men in the area, and my sister thought it would be fun to have a “Bachelorette: Quyon” competition.  She was telling me about it, thinking I’d be all Wow, Kara, good idea, count me in! – when, in fact, my reply was, “Um. No.”

The reason?  All of the single girls she’d been talking to, who were complaining about being single - they all have had their turns, too.  They’ve had boyfriends, husbands, kids.  If we’re going to do “The Bachelorette: Quyon”, I think it’s only fair that a TRUE “single girl” gets all the glory.  (And the men.) 

When I’m done, they can sift through the leftovers.

I recognize that this entire post makes me sound like a very bitter, selfish girl.  And I also recognize that these attributes aren’t exactly going to endear me to any single, available men lurking around out there.

But if you were still alone at my age – having never had a really true, strong chance to play the “game”, and just yearning to hold your own babies in your arms – well, I think you might feel the same way too.

I don’t want to lose my place in line again.  I don’t want to let that dust settle in.

I want everyone else to get out of the way.

Because all I just really want is my turn.

Disgruntled.

I know, I know… I’ve been doing a lot of whining and bitching around here lately.  But grant me one more day of it, OK?  I promise it won’t last forever.

You should all know that disgruntled is one of my favourite words.  And that only makes sense, considering I often find myself feeling that way.

This morning, I’ll lay most of the blame on the Beer Tent Cold that is completely ruining my life right now.  It’s not a bad cold.  But it’s super annoying.  Not enough to really knock ya right down, but just there… a sore throat, a heavy head, a general feeling of yuckiness.

Normally, the best part about a cold?  Knock yourself out with cold medication, curl up in cozy blankets, and sleep it off.  Right?

Didn’t work last night.  I mean, it sorta did, for like half an hour – I rented a movie, and was cozied up on the couch when I drifted off into a perfect sleep.  (The movie – Friends With Kids -  was weird and boring anyways.)  But then I woke up, and ended up lying awake half the damn night, all zingy and uncomfortable and FRIGGIN WIDE AWAKE.  Thank God there was election entertainment to review on my Facebook and Twitter feeds.

Oh, speaking of which.  That also adds to my feeling of disgruntlement this morning.  The Quebec provincial elections.  Which, once again, proved that I live in a dumbass province that now has elected a Separatist party into a minority government.  Awesome. 

Even more awesome is that some lunatic opened fire during the leader’s victory speech and somebody actually died.

What the hell?  I mean, seriously…  What the hell?!

So today, I’m tired, cranky, stuffed up, sucking on Halls which make my mouth taste like crap, and kind of wishing everyone would just stop talking.  About the elections, about moving away from this province, about everything.  I’m mad that it’s so damn hot & muggy outside.  Equally pissed off that it’s freezing cold inside.  I hate that summer is ending, yet wish the weather would just change already. 

And a whole bunch of other things that I’m feeling nasty about, but really, I can’t talk about them here.  Some things… just aren’t blog material.

Disgruntled.

Forgive me.  I’ll get over it.

And if I’m looking on the up-side?  Well.  At least I didn’t fall into a sinkhole yesterday.  I’ve got that going for me.

This actually happened in Ottawa yesterday.  I’m thinking that guy probably has better reason to be disgruntled than I do…

My Weekend In the Beer Tent (also known as the breeding grounds for germs, apparently)

I feel like cruuuuuuuuuuud this morning.

Shawville Fair totally kicked my ass.

I didn’t even go as hard-core as most of ‘em, because I’m not legendary enough to go four or five rounds on the Big White Ride.  But I hit it up on Friday and Saturday night, and I can honestly say I had more fun in the beer tent this year at the fair than I’ve had in a really really long time.

We danced.  We drank beer like it was goin’ outta style.  I chased around boys who probably hope they never have a chance encounter with “Sadie” ever again.  We sang at the top of our lungs.   We lost our voices.

I think I even told a security guard I loved him

OH!  And I got I got ID’d and had to wear a lovely “Age of Majority” bracelet all weekend, too.  Awesome.  Especially when you’re 29 years old.

Kim Mitchell set the tone Friday night with hundreds of people showing up “for a soda”, and then on Saturday night I literally fell.in.love with Chad Brownlee.

 

By the time it was Terri Clarke’s turn on Sunday night, I was done in.  I didn’t even venture into the tent that night.  My feet ached.  I was beat.

Oh, and don’t be too quick to congratulate me on not eating fair food, either.  I failed in that department.  I had Billy T’s pizza – TWICE – a few bites of Cowan’s 4H burger, two of Amanda’s massive onion rings, and four or five of Brenda’s mini donuts.

Not to mention the styrofoam container filled with grease from Mae’s that I ordered up on Sunday whilst feeling like death.  (Sunday was rough.)

Yesterday was the only day that I actually stayed away from the fair, instead choosing to sit outside with the fam jam, drinking Palm Bays and having a BBQ.

This morning, I woke up with a nasty sore throat and just generally feeling like a bag of crap.  After a quick survey of my Facebook newsfeed, I can tell I’m not alone.  I can’t believe the number of peeps complaining of sore throats and colds.

So apparently the “Big White Ride” is actually just a big breeding ground for germs.  Excellent.

Meh.  I still think it was worth it.

Good times.  Good friends.  Great memories.

Hard to believe it’s all over again for another year.

***

Linking up today for Talk To Us Tuesday hosted by Impulsive Addict and Shawn.

Friday Fair Confessions

Last year, I did a Friday Confessions devoted to the Shawville Fair, so I think I’ll continue that tradition…

Linking up with Mamarazzi!

I confess…that last night, I experienced the fair as an “old lady”.  OK, my mom will kick my ass for saying that, but I took her to the fair last night, and quickly discovered that it’s not all about the beer tent for the older ladies.  It’s more about touring the exhibits and having verrrrrry lengthy chats with long-lost friends and family.  (Honestly…it wasn’t so bad.)

I confess…that I went for a long walk before going to the fair, and then because I was crunched for time, I didn’t eat supper.  The common sensical thing to do would be grab a bite to eat at the fair, but I’ve sworn off fair food again. (I know.  There’s something wrong with me.)  Hence, I did not eat anything last night.  At all.  And I woke up this morning feeling like my stomach was eating itself.

I confess…that sitting in the beer tent, where we went with my aunt & uncle “just to chat”, and listening to a well-know local wheelchair-bound character singing at the top of his drunken lungs…was pretty priceless.  I’m not sure if Mom, Aunt Marion, and Uncle Eric were entertained or horrified.  I was thoroughly entertained by it!

I confess…that I did not have one beer last night – NOT ONE – yet I woke up hurtin’ anyways.  For some reason, I have a very sore lower back and a very sore hip, to go along with my very sore heel.  Awesome.

I confess…that I’m currently making plans to get drunk at the fair for the first time in, like, five or six years.  It’s going to be a good ol’ “Jillian Show”, as my pal Robbie likes to call it.  Hopefully Linds and I can get Ryan to co-operate and play his role in this plan.  (That’s right.  He gets to play the part of DD.  Lucky him!!)

I confess…that even though I have professed to dislike Kim Mitchell for years now, I’m kind of excited to hear him play “Patio Lanterns” and “Go for a Soda” live tonight.  I really hope it doesn’t rain.

I confess…that beyond it being fair weekend, I’m so very glad it’s the Labour Day long weekend.  One extra day to sleep in.  Love it.

That’s it for today!  For the  locals…hope to see you at the fair!

Everyone else – have a great long weekend :)

It’s the end of the summer…

It's the end of the summer,
It's the end of it all,
Those days are gone, its over now, we’re moving on…

Truth be told, I hate that Theory of a Deadman song. 

It fills me with a sense of melancholy at a time of year when I’m already wistfully looking back; already starting to miss the long hazy days filled with sunshine and lawn chairs and cool drinks in hand.

And yet, it’s the song on my mind these days, as the evenings grow cooler, the days gradually become shorter, and the first bittersweet signs of autumn begin to creep in.

People laugh at me when I moan about the poor kids having to go back to school, but I’m not lying when I say there’s an ache in my heart – a heaviness, as I drive down my road on the way to work and I have to wave at the boys out waiting for their buses.  Maybe they’re actually excited to go back, and there’s no doubt their parents are clicking their heels with joy.  Yet, it takes me back to those mornings when I had to pose at the end of my laneway with my backpack on, glaring at the camera, usually tears filling my eyes.

I loved school – but I hated going back at the start of each year.  It always broke my heart having to say good-bye to the summer.

It still does.

I don’t think I could have asked for much more this summer.  Weather-wise, it was spectacular (as long as you weren’t a farmer) – record-breaking heat waves; long, dry spells perfect for sun-tanning on my mom’s patio with a Palm Bay in hand; warm nights at the ball field and those wonderfully cheap ‘ball park beers’. 

There were fun wedding festivities, a road trip, a few days of reminiscing at the camp, pool parties, and a train ride to Toronto.

I turned 29.  And it wasn’t terrible.

A satisfying summer filled with good times with family and friends.  Really, I couldn’t have asked for more.

And honestly, I’m so ready for fall. 

The thoughts of cozy sweaters and scarves, evening walks in crisp cool air, mugs of hot tea, the beautiful changing of the leaves – and yes, even the nights at the ball park, when you wonder if maybe you should have brought a pair of mittens along, because hanging on to the cold beer can with icy fingers feels like the dumbest thing you’ve ever done…

It’s impossible to forget Shawville Fair.  The official kick-off to ‘the changing of the seasons’.  And that wild ride begins tonight.

So much to look forward to.  So much excitement building for all the fun that fall brings along with it.

…Yet still, that uneasy ache. 

There’s a sadness at letting summer go that lingers, taking hold of me, making me wish we could go back and do it all over again.

I’ve never been good with good-byes.

And watching this summer fade, and slowly slip away?

Well, it feels like one of the hardest good-byes yet.

It's the end of the summer,
But we'll see it all again.
So hold on to this moment till then…

WWTKW: Another shot of “Would you rather…”

I’ve had a Single Girl Files post brewing in my mind for a while…I contemplated airing it out today, but I’ve decided to let it stew for another little while.  I’ll play along with WWTKW instead.

“Would You Rather” was so much fun last time that Mamarazzi thought we would play again for this week's We Want To Know questions...  Linking up with her & Crazymama!

This week’s questions:

{one} WYR...Never be able to look in the mirror again or always get dressed in total darkness?
{two} WYR...Receive $50 a day for the rest of your life or $50,000 right here and now?
{three} WYR...Have extreme narcolepsy or have a bad case of tourette's?
{four} WYR...Be able to rewind 24 hrs 3 times a year or consciously control your dreams?
{five} WYR...Be fluent in every language around the world or be the best in the world in a category of your choosing?

My answers:

{one} WYR...Never be able to look in the mirror again or always get dressed in total darkness?

I’m already a pro at getting dressed in total darkness. 

Well, not really… but my closet is big and terribly messy, and it’s pretty dark.  Half the time I’m in there, rooting around, pulling out items of clothing, having no idea what I’ve actually got.  Sometimes I take my phone in with me and turn the flashlight app on, but usually, I just reach in blindly, and hope and pray I pull out something I can work with.

Never being able to look in the mirror again?  That’s not even an option.  I need to be able to see my fatness and horrible hair.  Plus, I’m kind of vain, you know.  (I realize these are contradictory statements.)

{two} WYR...Receive $50 a day for the rest of your life or $50,000 right here and now?

Oooooh.  That’s kind of tough.  At $50 a day, you could save up pretty quickly for whatever you want.  But $50,000 right now could get me a new set of wheels, some new clothes, and secure those hopes of going South for a week this winter, plus a few other things…  Yeah. I’ll take the $50,000 please.

{three} WYR...Have extreme narcolepsy or have a bad case of tourette's?

Well, who knew WWTKW could be so educational.  I kind of didn’t really even know what narcolepsy was, other than a Third Eye Blind song that I used to like, so I pumped it into the ol’ google machine, and this is what Wikipedia told me:

Narcolepsy is a chronic sleep disorder, or dyssomnia, characterized by excessive sleepiness and sleep attacks at inappropriate times, such as while at work.

Whaddya know.  I think I already have narcolepsy. I guess I’ll stick with it.  I love sleeping.

{four} WYR...Be able to rewind 24 hrs 3 times a year or consciously control your dreams?

Part of me would really like to rewind 24 hours, 3 times a year, but that could get risky.  Messing with the past is a kind of scary prospect to me. 

On the other hand, being able to consciously control my dreams sounds like a fantastic idea.  My friend Lindsay told me about a Channing Tatum dream she had recently, and I was like, “Dude, I never have good dreams like that.”  I can think about Channing Tatum all I want before falling asleep, and instead dream about my brother being chased by a gingerbread man.  Or about my entire high school graduating class hanging out in my friend Sara’s playhouse and getting into a big fight, with one guy eventually whacking the other over the head with an axe.  (not even joking.)

When a good dream happens, it’s wonderful.  If I could make that happen at will, that would be awesome.

Why yes, I will take this opportunity to post a dreamy picture of Channing, thankyouverymuch.

{five} WYR...Be fluent in every language around the world or be the best in the world in a category of your choosing?

I want to be the best at something.  That would be SO cool.  I would hope it would be something I could do at the Olympics, and get like a million gold medals for it.  Like the Michael Phelps of Skeleton racing or jumping on a trampoline. 

Definitely.  That’s what I want, for sure.

Imagine that’s me.  Except I’ll probably keep my shirt on.

Randomly, Tuesday…

It’s Tuesday, and I feel random.  Let’s just go with it.

Linking up with Impulsive Addict & Shawn for Talk To Us Tuesday

…as well as Stacy Uncorked for Random Tuesday!

• I pray to the Car Gods that they grant me six more months -  just six more damned months!!! – to save some funds for new wheels.  My poor ol’ Rav is gasping for breath, and I need it to last just a liiiiiiiiiiitle while longer…
• The issue now is it’s leaking oil from somewhere.  Boys have explained to me where it is leaking and what needs to be done to fix it, but I don’t really understand.  I don’t speak car.  So I tried explaining it to my co-worker Pat yesterday, in hopes that he could help me out.  He then took the shop mechanic Denis out to look at it, and then they asked me to come out to discuss it.  Solemn-faced, Pat said to me, “We think the problem is the loose nut behind the wheel.”  I was so confused.  I was all like, “Whaaa?!?  It’s leaking oil, what the heck does that have to do with a loose nut behind the wheel?!?”  He pretty much doubled over laughing at me.  Apparently, I’m the “loose nut behind the wheel”.  God, I can be stupid sometimes…
• These car issues are quickly destroying any hopes I had of going South this winter.  :(
• So, to cheer myself up, here’s my Song of the Week:

• I love that No Doubt is back.  Love.
• As fall approaches, I’m getting the urge to re-vamp my wardrobe yet again.  I need new sweaters and new jeans and I want scarves and boots and everything… Swear to God, I haven’t bought new fall/winter clothes in two years.  *sigh*
• I think I have finally successfully hooked one of my friends on Friday Night Lights.  I’ve only been talking about it for seven frigging years.  Welcome to the FNL Club, Lindsay!!  I’m so glad you’re enjoying the eye candy. ;)

• Speaking of Friday Night Lights… I think one of the characters on the show may be inspiring me to cut my hair even shorter than it already is.  I love Tyra’s bob in Season 2.  I realize that I look nothing like Tyra, but… I really love her hair.  And I kinda want to try it.  Am I crazy?

(Along with the ‘do, I’d take Landry too…)

• I’m now in Week 3 of trying to lose weight, and I’m feeling really damned good about it.  Last night, I finally joined the group of ladies who have been working out together a couple of nights a week.  We walked the perimeter of Shelley’s yard a bunch of times, then got in the pool and did our own little version of “water aerobics”.  We laughed our asses off, and I now understand why Brenda has been bugging me to join them for weeks now.  Already looking forward to Wednesday!
• Fair Weekend is now only a few short days away, and the excitement is building.  Got my pass, and I’m all ready to go… Bring on the Kim Mitchell, the Terri Clarke, and the Chad Brownlee (whoever the heck he is!!)
• It’s a weird time of year.  I’m so looking forward to fall, yet there’s this bittersweet feeling of watching summer fade away.  It’s been a long summer – and it’s been a pretty decent summer.  It’s time to let it go.  I’m truly ready for the turn of the seasons, and yet… it still makes me sad to say good-bye to the summer.  These weeks of transition, with the kids going back to school and fall activites starting to creep up on us, kinda make me want to cry…

Well, before I go and get any more sniffly and sentimental, I think I better shut this post down.  

Have a great Tuesday, peeps.