Annnnd it’s back.

Sigh.

I am sad to have to admit this, but sadly, my husband’s dirty moustache is back.  Remember this?  Yeah, it’s back, in all it’s full fledged sketchy-creeper-I-want-to-steal-your-kids glory. 

I thought we were past this – he’d done it once, gotten it out of his system, and would never need to return to the realm of ugly facial hair.  But, then, along came Movember.  You may be familiar with this trend – the month of November is well known as the month when men can grow moustaches and raise money for prostate cancer, and awareness for men’s health.  A real men’s solidarity thing you know? One of our friends from church is doing it with his colleagues, and when he told me, my first reaction was “please don’t tell Ben. He’ll want to do it too”.  And alas, he found out.  Although he’s not really doing the “raising money for a good cause” part.  Just the “now I have permission to grow ugly hair on my face part”. 

So, here I am.  Right where I never thought I’d be again.  So, if you happen to run into us at the mall or somewhere else public for the next 2 weeks, and it looks like we’re not really together,  don’t worry – we’re not having marital problems – I’m just making sure I’m not associated with the thing on his face.

All’s Fair

This past weekend, I surprised Ben with tickets to the Royal Winter Fair in Toronto.  It’s a pretty big deal around these parts, and elementary school kids from far and wide all get to take a field trip there at least once in their school career.  Most people I’ve talked to, when mentioning that we went to the fair all commented “oh yeah, I went there once, in grade 4″.  That was my last experience with the Royal Winter Fair too.  Grade 4, with my class.  All I really remember was how enthralled we all were with how the cows and horses went to the bathroom.  It wasn’t uncommon to hear “there’s one! Over there! look it’s pooping!” scattered among the 9 year old conversations we were having that day.  I will forever have etched in my memory the first time I saw a cow pee, which happened to be at the fair, and very near to my head. The gallons and gallons of urine pouring out of this cow was quite hilarious to me and I’m pretty sure left me with my mouth wide open.

So, now that I’ve successfully spent an entire paragraph talking about barn animals relieving themself….perhaps we should move on hmmm? So where was I? Right. The Fair.

Ben has asked about it in the past, and since we had to be out of our place for a few hours on Saturday (another open house..booooo), I thought I’d surprise him with tickets.  I had high hopes that it would be as cool as I would remember, and I figured “hey, if it’s good enough for Charles and Camilla, it’s good enough for me.” 

So we went (with James and Christy, because anything is more fun if they’re with us).  And it didn’t disappoint.  I mean, the first thing I saw right in the parking lot (where funny enough, they were keeping some of the cows) was a big steaming pile of poop come out the rear end of a cow. Not a bad way to start the day if you ask me.

Here’s a few of the highlights for your enjoyment:

1) This little baby goat.  Seriously people.  Not much is cute than a little baby goat.  Except maybe that bulging vein coming out of my forehead.  That’s pretty cute too, I guess.

 

2) How excited Ben got about this bull. (ummm, I think it’s a bull…I’m not so much with the livestock…sorry Dad B, I try).  He weighs 2200 lbs and is Ben’s new best friend.

3) The ridiculous amount of free samples we partook in. Here we all are cheers-ing over a 1/4 ounce of maple syrup.  I’m pretty sure in my every day life, taking shots of pure syrup isn’t on my “to do” list…but there’s just something about free samples that makes you throw caution to the wind….because hey! Doesn’t get much better than free!

 

Oh what’s that? You want a list of everything we consumed that was free? OK.

• prime rib and yorkshire pudding
• goat cheese curds and spread on crackers
• copius amounts of pretzles dipped in gourmet mustards, spreads, dips
• tea
• carrots (yeah, that’s right. Some farmers were straight up handing out bags of carrots.)
• Arthur’s fruit juice
• Soy beverage drinking boxes (blech)
• Wheetabix
• Orange juice
• bread and margarine (yeah, I know right? Just pieces of bread spread with margarine.  Dont’ worry, even if that IS the most basic meal….I still felt compelled to partake)
• edited to add: a few tablespoons of  flour in a ziploc baggie…I can’t believe I almost forgot about this…

Oh, and in the category of “Things that weren’t really free samples, but my husband managed to get them for free anyway, because that’s how he rolls”:

• Beer
• Soy byproduct that you’re supposed to feed animals, but Ben asked to eat some of it anyway, so they let him.  He said it tasted like grass. 

 4) The world’s biggest squash.  (and yes, I know it looks like a pumpkin, just trust me, it’s a squash)

5) the Superdogs dog show.  I sadly have NO photo evidence of this, so you’ll just have to believe that it was a highlight.  I’m not really a “dog” person, but I’d probably pay at least $5 to see this show again.  Not so much because what the dogs did was so awesome (although it was kind of cool), but mostly because the dog trainers were hilarious.  See, they had to run alongside their dogs as they raced around these courses, doing their jumps and tricks.  And let’s just say these trainers weren’t so much what the kids are calling “in shape”.  So, it was really, really funny watching them try to keep up with their dogs. 

Also, there was this one dog, a little bull dog, who the minute he came out on to the floor, started head butting stuff and knocking it over.  (pretty sure it wasn’t part of the act).  Then when they finally calmed him down and convinced him to do the jumps, he would waddle his little butt up to each jump and barely make it over, scraping his underside on the top of each jump, and meander over the next one. 

So, all in all, a good day.  I would recommend heading down there yourself if you’re in the area.  And if you want the real in-depth experience, I’ll even loan you my husband, who will be able to tell you what you’re supposed to look for in a cow (vein-y udders people, that’s the key right there), probably score you some free samples that weren’t supposed to be free, and take cool pictures for you, like this.

An Open Letter to H1N1 (I know right? How very 2009 of me)

Dear H1,

I feel as though we’re tight enough now for me to call you by your first name. I mean, all I ever hear about anymore is H1N1 this, swine flu that. You could at least reciprocate the attention once and a while. Would it kill you to take me out for dinner?

I mean, I know you’re busy. What with all the infecting millions of people and effectively instilling fear into a culture that is hungry for something else to obsess over. (And you thought Michael Jackson would still be the talk of the town…)

Don’t get me wrong H1, I know you’re serious and all. And, if I’m being honest, I definitely don’t WANT you, but even you have to admit the incessant news reports are a bit much. We get it. You’re dangerous. You kill people. You suck to have. Did you need a gold star or something? Are you really waiting for your own version of This is it: The H1N1 Movie to hit the theatres? I’m sure we could work out a little arrangement or something. You stop infecting everyone, and we’ll promise to talk nice about you.

Unfortunately, H1N1, I don’t think we’ll ever see eye to eye. I personally think all the attention you get is ridiculous, and you seem to think that it’s your mission in life to hole people up for a week of their life fighting off your symptoms. So, I’ll do what I can to keep you at bay (well, minus getting a vaccine): multiple hand washings, I’m trying my darndest to stop chewing my fingernails, I’m coughing into my elbow, and I’m even putting on hand sanitizer from time to time. You might get me, you might not. We’ll just have to wait and see now won’t we swine?

Sanitized and affectionately yours,

 Karmyn

Saying Goodbye

My Grandma  Giesbrecht passed away on Monday.  It wasn’t a complete shock, in the middle of last week, she suffered a stroke that the doctors said she wouldn’t recover from.  So, in a way, we kind of knew it was coming (well, for 4 days anyway).

She was my step-grandma actually.  My grandma Giesbrecht (yes, that was my maiden name) died when I was eleven, and a year and a half later, my grandpa remarried. I’ve known this grandma longer than I knew my other.  I can remember when we first met her. It was Christmas of ‘94 and our family was heading out to Saskatchewan to celebrate with our families.  Grandpa had planned his wedding around the holiday, so all of us could be there.  We all knew that after the wedding, grandpa would be moving to BC, where Frieda was from, to live with her there, and I can clearly remember us cousins sitting in the basement of Grandpa’s house, probably after an injury prone round of manhunt in the dark, talking about this fact.  We were all a little bit ticked that this new lady was going to sweep in and steal grandpa away and were trying to think of what we could do to convince him to keep living in Sask.  in the house we all knew as grandpa and grandma’s.  We couldn’t come up with any quick solutions, so we all sighed, shrugged our shoulders, turned off the lights, and began one of our last rounds of manhunt in grandpa and grandma’s basement. 

(the  cousins last summer, at Amber’s wedding.  Missing my brothers and Isobel)

Those initial feelings towards “Grandma Frieda” changed as we got to know her.  She was an incredible woman of faith.  She spent years serving in Africa with SIM, and could tell you story after story after story of the people she became friends with there, and the things she did.  She didn’t marry until her 70’s, when she married grandpa.  She could cook like no one else,  and we were often the recepients of unbelievable meals.  I was always amazed at what she would seemingly “whip up”, with just a few ingredients, and no recipe in sight.  She was bound and determined to keep up with technology, and her and I would chat on MSN.  She never quite figured out how to use it properly, so our conversations never lasted long, but at least she tried.  She has friends from all over the world who she would keep up with through email. She would often comment on how if they went away for a few days, she would come home and there would be 200 emails for her to sort through.  (What can I say, she was more popular than I’ll ever be). 

Because my family is originally from out west (and we moved to ON), we didn’t see them often.  During my years of working for Redeemer, I had BC as one of my recruiting territories.  So for 2 weeks, twice a year, I got to stay with them.  I am grateful for those times.  She would always ask me meaningful questions about my life, my marriage, and my future plans to go into ministry.  She would force feed me far too much food.  I know that a lot of people can probably say that about their grandparents…that they always had food around…but this was different.  I eventually had to develop a strategy and put way smaller portions on my plate, knowing there was often another round of food coming.  At times, I’d have to get firm and absolutely refuse more food – to which she’d always reply “But Karmyn, you’re getting way too skinny – I’m worried”.  (I think her eyes were bad).  When I would leave, she and grandpa would always walk me out, waiting at the front door of their condo and watch me drive away.  I would always offer to take them out for supper (Since they were saving Redeemer so much in hotel bills), but it was usually a battle, as Grandma already had all her meals mapped out that she wanted to serve me.  She would always give me something of hers each trip, usually a momento from Africa. (although one time, it was a 1970’s casserole dish).  I would try and explain that I didn’t have a lot of extra room in my luggage, and she’d pshaw me and say, ‘oh we can make it fit’.  So we would.  My last trip out there was a month before I left Redeemer to begin my new job as a youth director at the church where we currently serve.  She was so thrilled that I was going into ministry and gave me one of her books entitled “Women in Ministry”.  I’m pretty sure it’s from the 50’s, and probably 90 % of it isn’t relevant to where I’m at, or my thoughts on the topic – but it meant a lot that in her own way, she wanted to equip me to serve. As a woman who was in ministry for decades, she, on some level knew what I would experience and did what she could to support me in that. 

So, yes, I’m sad.  Sad that she’s gone. Death is  sad.  But I am so thankful for the memories we do have, and for who she could be for my grandpa these past 15 years.  She will be mourned and celebrated by people all over the world, and that speaks volumes about her impact. (Ben and I sadly won’t be able to make the funeral, as it’s out in BC, and we can’t really afford it at this time.)  As a family, we’re so thankful for the fact that we know she’s in heaven, and although it’s not really theologically sound, Ben remarked the other night that she’s probably busy cooking up a storm. 

Goodbye Grandma.

On the Move

Well, it’s been a while eh? Didn’t mean for that one to happen, but somewhere in between this post and my last one Thanksgiving, work, getting sick and life in general, happened.  But, enough with the excuses that seem to preface every one of my blog posts lately. 

As I’ve eluded to in previous posts, there is a fairly good chance that we have to move again.  It’s not for sure yet, and we’re really praying and hoping that we get to stay, but we’re also realistic enough to realize that we should probably on some level plan on moving, just in case.

To catch you up to speed, I’ve compiled a list of FAQ’s surrounding this whole situation. So, without further ado:

Ummm, what? Didn’t you guys JUST move there?

Yes, yes we did. Well, in March.  Our landlords are needing to sell their house because a year ago, they had put a deposit on another new property and can’t get out of that agreement. 

But wait…didn’t you like JUST get settled?

Why yes, in fact we did. It took us a while to really get settled, because when we moved in March, life was more than a little bit hectic.  We didn’t even have furniture for the first 6 weeks of living here.  Actually, because we’re so on the ball, we still have stuff to unpack.  You can be assured that we sure as heck WON’T be unpacking it now.

But I’m confused.  I could have sworn because of a flood in February, that you JUST moved not that long ago….am I confusing that fact with what you’re saying now….or do you really have to move again?

(ok, so I admit, people haven’t really asked us that blatant of a question…but are you sensing my frustration with the reality of how often we seem to have to move?)

So, how’s it all going?

Well, not so great.  Ben and I waffle between being ok with things and realizing that God is in control, to being SO frustrated at the whole thing.  We DO NOT want to move again.  We DON’T like keeping our apartment clean at all times in case people want to come see it.  We get really bitter every time the real estate agent tells us there’s a showing so we have to leave our own apartment. (Especially when there are SIX HOUR SHOWINGS on a Saturday). Last time I checked, we weren’t paying our landlords $950 for them to be able to tell us when we can and can’t be in our own place.  Especially when at the end of the whole ordeal we’ll just be homeless. 

So, what I’m hearing is… you don’t want to move?

There are probably about 84 things I’d rather do than pack up my stuff, and move. 

Hey! I just had a genius idea.  Why don’t YOU just buy the whole house?

Umm, let’s do a little math here mmmmmk? 

The house we live in = $649, 900

Ben and Karmyn’s salaries combined = WAY WAY LESS than $649,900 

Is there any way you can stay?

Yes.  We are praying we get to.  The most realistic way this could happen is if the people who buy the house want to keep us.  You know, like pets.  Pets that pay them to live in their basement.  We’re doing our best to look real cute and pathetic when people come through the house.  And I’ve been sure to let everyone know that Ben is house broken, so there won’t be any “accidents”.    The other option  is if the house doesn’t sell, our landlords might try and make something work with their other place instead. 

So, there you have it.  the latest and greatest on our situation.  I realize that I need to qualify the overt grumpiness that I just spewed into this blog post:

1.  I KNOW I actually have no right to complain.  I should BE so lucky that I even have a place to complain about right? We are SO ridiculously blessed and have so much more than we need. 
2.  Our landlords are really great people. They’re stuck just as much as we are, and they have been so gracious through this whole thing.  Although we’re grumpy about everything, we’re trying really hard not to be grumpy AT them.
3.  God has, is and always will be in control. We’re praying that we get to stay -but whatever the outcome, it’s part of God’s plan for us and really is the best thing for us.

I would be lying if I said that this has been my favourite ordeal, but as of right now, we still have a place to live and no offers have been made on the house yet, so we’ll be fine for at least another couple of weeks.  I’ll keep you all posted on how things go.

 

On Sadness.

It’s no secret that we live in  broken world.  Sin has been a part of humanity since the beginning, and the result is pain, lies, discouragement, and sadness.  Not always.  Life is also filled with so much purpose, joy, peace and love. 

This weekend though, sadness seemed to prevail, yes, for me, but mostly, for people I care about deeply. 

 A good friend to many of my good friends and family took his own life on Saturday, leaving so many in shock, without answers and saying goodbye much quicker than they ever thought they’d have to. 

And my heart hurts for them.  A lot.  They lost a DEAR friend, mentor, teacher and brother.  And my heart hurts for this man, who I can only imagine experienced great loneliness and pain, and thanks to the fact that we live in a sinful world, probably chose to listen to lie after lie in his head about his lack of worth, and hopelessness.  When in reality, his worth was far greater in the eyes of those in his life (as is attested to by the pages of notes left to him on his facebook page).  And more importantly, his infinite worth in the eyes of his, and my saviour, Jesus Christ.

Later that Saturday, I had the privilege of spending time with a very old friend who is also hurting as she picks up the pieces of brokenness in her life, brokenness that was forced upon her, not of her choosing. 

And my heart hurts for her.  She is a person of incredible beauty, integrity, wisdom and strength.  A person who deserves so much more that what has been handed to her lately.  And I have hoped and prayed that she won’t listen to lie after lie about her lack of worth and hopelessness.  Because in reality, her value in the eyes of the people in her life is probably FAR greater than she could ever know.  And more importantly, she has infinite worth in the eyes of her, and your saviour, Jesus Christ. 

And so for me, yes, I am very sad.  And I have spent some time this weekend trying to reconcile God’s purpose for this world in the midst of such sadness.   But I’ve learned this weekend, that my role in this particular sadness, I think, is to care for those who are also really sad. And that right there is the beauty of community. Because God created us to be in relationship,  when one person hurts, everyone feels some degree of sadness for them.  So, I will do that.  I will pray, listen, cry and hug those who need it.  Not because I’m awesome and the Friend of the Year, but because that is what I need to do during this time of sadness.

If there’s one thing I’ve been reminded of again and again (especially this summer), it is that with Christ, things are never hopeless.  There is always hope, because, in the end, God wins.  He overcomes everything that sin brought into this world, including sadness.   We can choose to ignore that fact and be swallowed by  the sadness, or we can choose His hope.  Even in the sorrow, we can choose to see the grace, peace and hope that God brings for each of us.  And so as I watch tears fall, and as I shed many of my own, I will pray for hope and peace for each of my friends. 

Peace.

Word.

I do actually have things to say, but if I’m being completley honest, I really can’t be bothered to muster up coherent words tonight.   Life has been BIZZAY the past few weeks.  That’s to be expected considering it’s September, and in the youth ministry world, that translates into one heckuva busy month.  

So, hopefully in the next few days I’ll get some of the latest and greatest in my life down on this blog, but until then, I thought I’d leave you with a few quick  tidbits just to whet the ol’ appetite. 

1. As I eluded to in a previous post, we probably have to move again.  Trust me, there will be more on this, as I have several thoughts to vent, whine about, discuss in a mature, calm fashion.   (let’s just say there will probably be several REALLY??’s included…)
2. I may have stooped to a new low today when (because of aforementioned move) I had to shove all our dirty dishes in a shopping bag and hide it in our storage room because people were coming to see the place.  I know. Housewife of the year over here.
3. I kind of like the show Glee.  Like really.  I may or may not have watched the scene where the glee club sings Gold Digger several times.  I like to think I’m channelling my inner gangsta.  You know, the white, middle class, female gangsta.
4. Last weekend, on a whim, Ben and I called up our sr. high students and invited them over for a chill night. Without any prompting on my part, their activity of choice was to watch episodes of The Office.  They make me so proud.   Now if only we can get them quoting Dumb and Dumber and Tommy Boy, our work here will be done.
5. In the past week, Ben and I have bought 8 tires.  Have you ever really stopped to think about buying tires?  That’s like $1000 dollars worth of tires yo.  Up until 6 days ago, I kind of just took for granted that tires existed on cars.  That was before my entire life savings was spent buying new ones. Eight of them.  Awesome.  I can think of at least 12 other things I’d like to do with $1000.  One of which can be found here.
6. For a friend’s bachelorette party this past weekend we went and played Laser Tag.  Because there was only 6 of us, they grouped us with a large group of high school students for our round.  The girls from that group begged the guy on staff to let us play boys vs. girls, and because he too, was a high school student, the sway of 8 girls was too much . So, that’s what we did.  Us 6 adults, joining forces with these other 8 girls planning our assault on the boys.  I believe their primary strategy was as follows:  “*giggle*, let’s kick them in the crotch and then we can shoot them, *giggle*” Nice.  Well, we definitely destroyed the boys (And to the best of my knowledge no crotch kicking ensued…)  Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I may or may not have come in first on my team. And second overall.  That means I only lost to 1 pubescent teenage male. I think that’s worth noting, don’t you?

And considering there’s really no better way to end a blog post then the words “pubescent teenage male” (think of the google searches that will bring), I guess I’m finished here.   

Peace out.  (see, I’m 1/2 way to gangsta already)

Another Genius Idea, Brought to You By Christy and Karmyn

To cap off a great weekend, Ben and I spent some time with two of our bests, James and Christy. 

(Side note: am I suddenly 16 again? Apparently I am, since I decided to describe 2 of our friends as my “bests”.  I might as well go the whole nine yards and add the ol’ “ies” on the end of that one.  And while I’m at it, I should check with my parental units and see if I’m even allowed to be on the computer this late.  Excuse me while I go take a quiz measuring my fashion I.Q.)

So, as I was saying, we were hanging out with James and Christy, enjoying dinner, games, and as per the usual, lots of laughing.  We were catching up on our lives and got on the topic of house buying.  I actually have lots of legit thoughts on this topic, none of which will make their way into this blog. (perhaps another one, in the near future). What we DID talk about however, was how flipping expensive houses are in the area we live in.  Ben and I happen to live in one of the richest cities in Canada (trust me, we don’t exactly contribute to maintaining that status), which means that the chances of us owning a home here are slim to none.  We’re cool with that – we don’t really need a house yet – but sometimes, just for fun I’ll still peruse MLS just to see what’s out there.

As we talked about the fact that the house where Ben and I live (we rent the basement) is worth somewhere in the ballpark of $600,000, and how the house where we now live is soon going up for sale (that is ALSO a blog post in itself, because yes, we most likely have to move…again..for the third time in a year…don’t EVEN get me started), we all got talking about how the four of us should just pool our money and buy the house together.  You know, that would only be a mere $300 000 per couple.  (HA!). 

Since this idea is entirely laughable, we got thinking about how we could begin to afford it, and my previous blog post came up.  The one about 21 ways to earn $100.  Well, Christy and I decided we could just adopt that idea, but change it just a bit.  So….we would like to introduce to you:

600 Ways to Earn $1000.

Eh??? eh??

When you say it that way, it actually sounds feasible right? And really, that’s only 300 ways per couple.  So really, Ben and I only need to concentrate on earning $1000 for three hundred days of the year – leaving us 65 days to just shoot the breeze.   Sounds like a plan right?  I know. I don’t know why we didn’t think of this one YEARS ago.

We also may or may not have crunched some numbers to figure out exactly how many pop cans we’d have to collect to earn our six hundred grand that way.  Just trust me when I say it would be A. LOT.

So, if you feel so inclined, you can help us out if you like.  I’d either suggest letting us know any and all ideas of how we can earn $1000 per day, or start drinking lots of pop. It’s up to you, really.

Dear Internet, this is where you come in.

Well, it’s currently 1:37 am, and as you can see, I’m definitely not sleeping.  This isn’t a rare occurrence, which you may know, if you’ve been kicking around this blog long enough.  At the best of times, my brain doesn’t shut down, and unless I am really beyond exhuasted tired, I can’t just lay my head down and fall asleep.  Usually, it requires reading of some sorts, sometimes I’ll watch an episode of  My Name is Earl on my Mp3 player, or, if I’m really desperate (which means Ben is still awake and has vetoed the light being on, and my MP3 player is dead), I’ll just lay there and try my darndest to FALL ASLEEP ALREADY.

Anyway – this post isn’t actually about my sleeping habits, although I did feel the need to justify why I’m still awake at 1:37 am on a Wednesday night when clearly, I need to work in the morning.  I’ve been on a particularly rough streak of being awake the past week, and I think I can only chalk it up to one thing: the youth ministry season has now officially begun.  Yes, it’s that time of year again, when youth programs kick back into high gear and my life becomes full of meetings, good talks with students over iced capps, events, bible studies, planning, and reconnecting.  I LOVE IT.  But, it does mean, that for a good few weeks I have resigned myself to the fact that I won’t be sleeping as much. 

As tired as I was tonight trudging off to bed, the minute my head hit the pillow, it started swirling with my to-do’s for tomorrow, ideas for our kick-off this weekend, who I need to try and meet up with, more planning, booking things, etc, Etc, ET-freaking-CETERA.  (Someone out there PLEASE tell me you can kind of, sort of, on some sort of level understand what the heck I’m talking about).

So, anyway -there I go with the second digression of this post…(umm, can you tell it’s 1:49 in the am? yes, that’s right, it’s taken me 12 minutes to write 2 paragraphs).  So, as I was laying in bed a while ago, I was thinking about the upcoming missions trip our sr. highs are going to be taking this March Break.  We’re going to be heading down to the Dominican Republic to do some work at a school for underprivileged kids.  I’m very, very pumped about this trip, and what it all entails. I’m sure there will be more on this as the year goes on, my thoughts on the trip, all that we need to do to get ready, my thoughts on short-term missions in general, etc, so I’ll save my ramblings for those posts. But the reason I’m now 454 words into a blog post at 1:52 in the morning is because I need your help. 

As I was laying in bed thinking about the planning for this trip, I started thinking about the fundraising we’ll need to do.  The cost of the trip is $2100/person, and so, although we’ll be doing group fundraising, there will be an expectation of each student to raise some on their own.  I want to encourage and equip them the best way possible to take this on and thought it would be fun to come up with a “21 ways to earn $100″ list for them.  I think when you say a number like $2100 to a 15 yr. old, that can seem intimidating. But if I can give them 21 ideas on how to earn/raise $100, well, personally, I think that’s do-able.  (for example: Find 10 items that you don’t use anymore: movies, books, clothes, etc, and sell them on Kijiji for $10 each) 

Here’s the problem.  I currently have 8.  EIGHT.  That is not twenty-one. Not even close.  So, I’m asking you. What’s 1 way to raise $100??   I would love to hear your feedback on this! If 13 of you each leave 1 comment, well, then I’ll have enough.  (See what I did there? eh? EH? doesn’t seem like such a hard task now does it?)  

Now, it’s no secret that I average about 2 comments per post.  I’m ok with that.  I’m not in this blog world for the comments. (don’t get me wrong they’re nice, and I appreciate them when I get them)  But, see, that doesn’t really help me out here on this one.  So…here’s where I put out the shameless plug to comment.  I don’t care if you’ve been blog-stalking me for a year and you found me through some random word search on google. (I know you’re out there “ghetto butt” and “pumped puss”….although I’m sorry that you were directed to my blog, because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t what you were looking for) I also don’t care if you linked to me through someone’s blog and you don’t know me.  (Trust me, I’m totally down with with the blog-linkage…)  It would be great if you’d leave your 2 cents about earning $100.  (Get creative!)

Well, it’s now 2:08, and I’m thinking about giving the ol’ “heading to bed” another try.  For your sake, I hope I succeed, otherwise, who knows what I’ll be asking you for next.

We Really Needed Groceries OK?

A few weeks ago, after Ben and I had returned from our canoe trip, we realized we had ZERO groceries in the house.  Now, you might think zero is an exaggeration, but I would beg to differ.  Unless you can tell me what sort of meal we could create with the following ingredients: Vegetable oil, icing sugar, jam, and 1 piece of freezer-burned fishstick.  (On a side note: Does anyone want to come for dinner? We make wicked awesome food around here).  

Anyway, as I was saying, because of our comings and goings this summer, we didn’t eat at home a lot, thus the lack of groceries, and as we returned, we knew we needed to remedy the situation ASAP.  So, that night, around oh, I don’t know, 11:30, I trucked my rear end over to the nearby Sobey’s (nothing like 24 hour grocery stores…am I right people?) to get us some grub.  This was a hefty shop.  The kind where you fill your cart to the brim with all the things you need.  We knew we had a few larger dinner parties coming up, so there were boxes upon boxes of hamburgers, bags and bags of buns, and not to mention all the other things we needed to re-stock our fridge. 

Now, at this point, I must acknowledge, that usually, people who are out shopping at 11:30 at night are usually on a specific “Crap-I-forgot-to-get-milk-for-tomorrow” kind of mission . You know, the kind where they get one or two specific items, and just want to whip in and out as fast as possible.  Their spouse might even be sitting in the car with it running as they jet around the store.  (You might be able to see where this is going…) I finish my shopping and pull up to the sole cashier working that late.  There’s no one around but her and I and we being to make pleasant conversation as I load up the conveyor belt with stacks and stacks of food.  As I’m putting my last few items on the counter, I hear a voice behind me ask  (even though he was pretty sure he knew what the answer was going to be), Ma’am, are you the only register open right now?” And I turn to see a man standing there with nothing more than a loaf of bread in his hands.  I start to feel a bit guilty, wondering if I should let him go ahead of what I’m sure will be a 20 minute ordeal at the register…but as I debate this thought in my head, I look once again behind me, and apparently, at this precise moment, every.single.customer in the store is ready to make their purchase.  All of the sudden there was a line up of 9 people, all holding nothing more than 2 or 3 items, curving around the magazine rack, down through aisle 4, waiting. FOR ME.  

All of the sudden, it hits me.  I’m THAT person.  The one who doesn’t get the unspoken rules of grocery shopping.  The one who I’m sure everyone was grumbling about under their breath, thinking “who does this person think she is? Can’t she get her life organized enough to not have to do this at 12:15am? Doesn’t she realize I left my car running in the parking lot?”  (At this point, I have to confess, that I actually don’t know what they were thinking….but I’m pretty sure if I were them, that’s what I would be thinking…)

Oy, what a feeling.  So, I do what any self-respecting person would do.  I turned around (after frantically beginning to help the cashier bag my items) and just acknowledge it.  I say to everyone “well…looks like I’m THAT person.  Who does their entire grocery shop at midnight anway?”.  Everyone enjoyed a good chuckle, and I think I maybe, just maybe, I avoided being pelted with nine separate grocery items.  Crisis. Averted.