Of all the reasons I have to dislike Facebook, this makes top 5. Pardon me? You want to CORRECT my name to one "N"? But it looks much less zen that way. Less even Steven. Or Schteven. And its preference last I checked. Big 'ol middle finger to THAT...
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
This came up on my snapchat, it could anywhere in the world they had a beauty conference thing.
That's not a beauty goal of MINE. What does this chick do for work eh? Receptionist at a nail salon. Has to be. What else could you do? I'd last 10 seconds or less before I ripped those things off in my job. Also, I don't understand the pointy nails trend. First time I saw them was near Halloween last year, and that for me was fitting, especially in black, it makes everyone look like witches. Doesn't it have a Hocus Pocus feel to it?
Why does a beauty conference have all make up, nail polish and fake eyelashes? I'd have one and just sell mirrors. I'd even write on them, "you're lovely, keep up the good work" Unless they're a jerk, then it would read, "you can be an ass again today, or you can be lovely. Choice is yours" Although bedazzling unemployed people's witchy nails might be more lucrative.
Thursday, June 23, 2016
A coworker of mine brought in a bag of teas she had from home, and in it was a bag of "Tiny Tea". The instructions say you're to drink it a half hour before you eat. My coworker tells me this is because it has appetite suppressants in it, so you don't eat so much, and become tiny I suppose.
I brewed up a cup, and took it to my wicket. When it cooled down enough, I brought it to my mouth to drink and inadvertently took in a breath at the same time and smelled it. Now to preface this, I've had some pretty gross teas. My sister gives me remedies, my other coworker gave me a tea that tasted like puffed wheat, I work next to David's Teas they bring over the extra sample teas for us. I'll usually drink it out of respect, or in inert need not to waste it. This skinny tea smelled SO BAD, I couldn't get over it. I wanted to try a small sip, because I knew I wanted to blog about it, but I couldn't bring myself to even try it. I can't even compare it to anything, it created it's entirely new and unique, awful smell. That's how is suppresses your appetite right? I have a new tea, "I'd rather be fat tea".
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
It's not very timely, as I bungee jumped on May 14th, but I can't resist the urge to blog about it. It was the second anniversary of loosing dad, last year I did tandem skydiving. My friend suggested the word "conceal" for grieving. Conceal seems fitting, as I've learned to not have expectations of my grief, how long, how often...I take things as they come, I go with the flow more. I do the best I can to prepare for days I know will hurt more, and try to honour his memory as best I can. Sometimes I find myself wondering "what would dad do?" And often he answer is outlandish, and much more fun than the regular way.
This is me right before jumping.
Two guys check the rope, tell you not to touch it on the way down.
This is my favourite picture, I made it my profile picture.
This one is ALL BUTT.
This is me grabbing the rope, petrified.
This one will give Grams heat failure.
This is me grabbing the rope on the rebound.
This is me suddenly remembering not to grab the rope.
Tears of joy I'm sure.
I was so pumped full of adrenaline, it took a good two hours for my nerves to calm down. As I was walking back along the platform back to the car, the strap on my purse broke. It hit the platform, and I grabbed the railing, like it was a gun shot. I was a shaking, terrified mess and somehow floated to the car on jelly legs.
Quick, ask me if I'll do it again. No. Absolutely not.
I'd argue it's actually scarier than skydiving. At least then I was strapped to a professional, who did the act of throwing us out the plane. And after the free fall, the gliding down to earth was calming, and you land on solid ground. Bungee jumping you have to throw yourself off the platform, and you rebound wildly a bunch of times, and when you stop you're hanging in a harness hundreds of feet above a gully.
Cross that off the bucket list. Check.
Monday, June 20, 2016
I said it in my post about showing up to a paint nite without a ticket, but I'll say it again. Maybe I wouldn't be so wildly outlandish if one of my antics blew up in my face, but again, I'd say this one swung in my favour.
My professional stylist cancelled on me, the day before my birthday dinner with family. I was craving a durastic hair change. Of the things I dislike about Facebbok flashbacks, my hair being the same way for 7 years stood out.
So I called Kristi, "Didn't your mom have a hair dressing cerificate from 30 years ago? So did mine. And Grams is supervising, she had her dog grooming one from 30 years ago too...I think we're more than qualified" A glass of wine for good measure...
She cut the bulk of the length off first, which professionals don't do, and I'm sure there's a good reason for it. As it was though, my hair was too long for ONE box of home dye, so we cut it first.
Then she dyed it for me.
Then she cut it more. And gave me bangs.
And I LOVE IT. I had professionals tell me since that it's not even and such, but I'm so strange that makes me like it more. I was so grateful to Kristi for jumping on the crazy train with me. It's just hair, it would have grown back. After you've shaved your head twice, nothing else feels too drastic. And had it gone awful, she and I would have had a great story. We still do.
Shout out to Grams too, photographer extraordinaire.
II just renewed my license, and with it in the mail came a donor registry card. Reminded me of when I was a kid, maybe 6 or 7 and the family got our new care cards. Back then you had to put a sticker on the front to designate your opting into organ donation.
I remember my parents sitting us down to have a serious conversation about how we could save lives, and how many people are waiting for organs. Of course it turned into an hour long conversation where my parents had to assure us over and over again that people weren't going to break into our rooms at night and start harvesting our organs while we slept. "So you're FOR SURE dead when this happens?" And just in case you think that's only for children...
Anyways, I'll save you the guilt trip about saving people, and their families the greif of loosing them.
On the card it says, "Live life. Pass it on." Which is a nice way of saying, "You won't need your organs when you're dead" so sign up. Hopefully you'll die of old age, long after anyone wants your organs, that's the plan right? But if not, and if I can save a family from losing a loved one, I will.
Here's the website:
So there we were driving the number one to Whislter at eight am on Saturday to do Tough Mudder. I look over to my right and who do I see, but my cousin and her kids on their way to the PNE. Despite all the money I'd spent on Tough Mudder, it was no contest between that event on my own in the rain, or Playland with my family. I was literally in all my gear, on the way there when I pitched it to Kyle, and we turned around at the next exit. People who came out for mine and Liz's birthday Friday, who saw me staggering around until 1am probably aren't surprised I didn't make it, but you should know my state of affairs had little to do with the decision. It did however come up later after a couple of the rides, but I didn't feed any of the plants, as close as it felt. It was pouring, we all drenched, but with big smiles on our faces. There's not a single doubt in my mind I made the best decision that day.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
After I ran the 5km Foam Fest in Nanaimo on Saturday, I had a giant fake tattoo on my right cheek.
All fun and games until I was rushing around Sunday morning with a bridal shower, baby shower and dance recital to go to. My #supermom cousin with two small boys helped me get others off with rubbing alcohol once. I don't own rubbing alcohol. But I do have real alocohol. I'm in the shower, "Kyle - get the vodka!" He brings it into the bathroom for me, a little puzzled, "little early isn't it?" But we dabbed some onto a make up pad and voila! Hopefully I reach a time in my life where I do have rubbing alcohol, and maybe even better, don't put tattoos on my face anymore. But until then!
Thursday, June 9, 2016
On the list of things to avoid doing while you're intoxicated - dancing, Kereokee, getting a tattoo, calling your ex, drinking more....add online shopping. It's a dangerous game, and how I almost became the proud owner of one of these:
Before you assume this is not a real thing, ask a few people, and trust me that I have, and it most certainly is. Knowing me though, my entry phone would ring, the kettle would go off, or I'd have a sudden epiphany and the mermaid blanket flop to the floor would also become a thing. Bonus points if you miss the coffee table, and the cat.
Monday, June 6, 2016
I should start a new thread called Jenn's antics, and this would make the grade. My manager came up to me a couple weeks back and said hesitantly, "...so we have this penguin outfit, and Pitt Meadows day is coming up.." And I lost it, "you'll make all my dreams come true!" Even leading up to it when it was going to be 30+ degrees, I was still so excited. I'd already decided I was wearing my camel pack underneath, but a client even suggeste I freeze it first. Brilliant.
Kyle walked around with me, keeping me hydrated like a super star. Funny thing is, no one knows who's under the suit. Most people just assumed I was a guy. Kyle got so offended when one older couple asked is he was "dad". Some kids were scared, I had to back off. Even a coworkers kids, who saw me without the outfit on were hesitant when I was fully suited up.
I had just the best time. I got to dance and frolic around, high fives, hugs all around. It's possible I missed my calling in life.
I don't feel comfortable posting pictures of random peoples kids online, but I have some cute ones of group hugs, and patty cake I'll never forget.
Everyone kept empathizing with me about how HAWT it was. I'd turn around and start shaking my back pack and Kyle would tell them it was a frozen camel pack. "Smartie pants penguin!" It's almost criminal...
Sunday, June 5, 2016
The problem is, I keep going with ridiculous and it works out for me.
If something blew up in my face, maybe I wouldn't try things like showing up to a Paint Nite ticketless.
It was pretty ballsey to show up to a sold out event, and hope for a no-show. The organizer said I should wait until 10 minutes after the event started to paint my canvas. Most nerve wracking 10 minutes of watching the door EVER! Even people walking by, I'd think, "do they look like they might be here to paint a turtle?"
But it worked out. And I had the best time, as I always do.
Painting next to my sister is its own cruel and unusual punishment. She's a wonderful aritist, with unerving talent. At one point I looked at her canvas, gasped and whispered "...damn you..."
But wouldn't you know everyone afterward was commenting on MY picture? My inability to follow the rules paid off, in a big mermaid ass kinda way, but none the less.
What if some spiteful guy worked in a puzzle making factory, and pulled a single peice out of every box before it was packaged? I bet that's happened somewhere in the world...if I owned a puzzell factory, I'd make everyone sign a disclosure "thou shall not take peices out, or take life frustrations out on innocent puzzlers..."
Thursday, June 2, 2016
I've realized lately how simple a creature I can be, and how little it takes to make me happy. My persona online sees me jumping out of planes, doing obstacle course races, triathlons, and bungee jumping, but on the day to day, I appreciate boring. Give me a good book, (I'm loving Elizabeth Gilbert - Big Magic) my cat, and a warm cup of tea on my comfy couch and I'm happy as a clam. I get happy when I'm doing dishes and a few tiny bubbles sneak out the conainer before the soap! I don't think its just me either. Yesterday I called a friend to go thrift shopping and she was in bed, napping. I heart naps. Today I asked another friend what she was up to and she said she might be at the library, understandably, as she's going to school, but I go to the library just for fun. I also see it on my snap chat. I just about peed myself watching my friends kid trying to eat a kiwi, bugger just kept slipping out his hands! Anyhow, maybe its a pre-30's stage with my birthday coming up, but bring on the boring!