I Wanna Make a Supersonic Woman of You

Oh my. I'm booked. It's set in stone. I'M GOING!

January 16: Depart Halifax for Saskatoon. Stay with the Siemens Family for a few days.
January 20: Arrive in Calgary and visit all the bitches and ho's out there.
January 25: Arrive in Vancouver and visit the West Coast for a few days.
January 28: Depart Vancouver's International Airport for Auckland, New Zealand!

I just got off the phone with Orlando, the guy from Travel Cuts. My flights are booked and I have my travel insurance. I Leave Vancouver with a short stop in Los Angeles, then to Fiji where I have one full day of stopover, then finally to Auckland.

A year later, I have my flight back to Canada, HOWEVER, with the airline I am flying with, I am allowed a FREE stopover in Fiji for as long as I want (according to my working holiday visa ofcourse). So I'm thinking a few weeks in Fiji, may also be a nice way to say"see you later" to the South Pacifac.

If I could express the giddiness running through my bones right now it would come out in the form of a whole lot of gibberish and jumping up and down and dancing, followed by an exclaimation mark!

Dance Sister Dance

Please.

Click HERE

Hello My Baby

I knitted my first tuque. And may I dare to go this far and say, it's damn close to being absolutely flawless. I am proud. And she is pretty.

Cause I'm TNT

Honey, strap on yer chaps and buckle on yer spurs cause we're going to see us some bullriding!

That's right folks, I have finally got to see the madness that is bullriding up close and personal. A dream of mine for years. Shan and I used to sit in my basement on Sunday morning-afternoons and watch hours, upon hours, of PBR (Professional Bull Riding). Hooked we were. We had our favorite riders, (Ty Murray--hottie!) and our favorite bulls (McNasty). We were glued to the TV watching and waiting for some brutal hits and to see who could last the 8 seconds of glory on the beast.

Thanks to Breck, he and I headed down to the Red Dirt RoundUp last night to claim our seats in the VIP section. That's right...VIP. The rodeo clown shook our hands. OH yeah. Well despite the cold steel bleachers that kept our asses numb, we had a great view as we were down on the red dirt itself.

The show begins. The lights go down. The loud, heavy rock music starts blasting. Fireworks go off. Flames rush down the center of the arena. Testosterone fills the air. We get introduced to our star riders who are spotlighted and surrounded by fire. I'm loving it. Seriously, you couldn't punch the smile off my face if you tried.

Soon enough the riding began. The bulls were released from their bucking shoots ( all of which were sponsored ever-so-fittingly by Jack Daniels, Rocky Boots, Dickies, and some trailer hitch company) and riders were being bucked off left right and center. The ones that did make the 8 seconds, there was a firework set off each time. And each time it scared the living crap out of me. As I'm sure it did the bull. Oh and not to forget the man on the horse with his lasso. He was cornered in the back of the arena waiting for bulls who didn't want to go back to pen after the ride. He lassoed one bull on his first try! It was amazingly accurate. I want to be a cowgirl. As for violence, there was only one incident of the bull stomping and head butting the rider and the clowns. I loved the simultaneous sucking-in-of-air sound made by the crowd when a bull would get out of line.

The commentator of the event and the Master Rodeo Clown kept us entertained in between with all the classic jokes in the book. Back and forth banter, insulting one another, commenting on how one was sleeping with the others' wife, et cetera. All in good fun. Although when the Rodeo Clown came to shake hands we scented an aroma of Jack Daniels himself coming from his painted face. Can you blame him?

All in all it was a fantastic evening of loud man-power, where Breck noticed that the Island's collection of "finest looking" folks had made an appearance. By golly, there was a lot of cowboy hats compensating for missing teeth. Regardless, if the PBR comes back, you can count me in.

Yeehaw!

Melk and Pellows

Milk, milk. You really do do the body good. Nothing quenches my thirst more than a big glass of cold milk. Preferably, I go for the ADL light blue carton. The 1%. I find it tastes the same as 2%, so I may as well opt for the one with the less fat. Indeed, I will never turn down a glass of 2%. Even if Homo milk is the only option, I'll drink that. But that's pushing it.

Of all the different brands of milk from different provinces I've tried, ADL certainly has the best taste of them all. Baxter, Farmer's, bah...Purity is the runner up. Oh and UGH! Have you ever tried triple milk? I may be insulting you if you grew up or still drink triple milk, but triple milk is the NASTIEST tasting shit out there! It's like a carton of cream and you add 3 cups of water to it or something. Nothing tastes worst. Well maybe somethings...

Now for chocolate milk. I always liked chocolate milk but was never one of those kids who needed the chocolate in order to enjoy the milk. I used it at my own discretion. Same with the strawberry flavor. My preference for chocolate milk goes the same for my white milk. I like the 1% better. But what is different with the 1 and 2% chocolate milks is that the 2% is so much more chocolatey. Too much chocolate if you ask me. So I always go for the 1% for C-milk too. It tends to go easy on the chocolate, but even still I like it more diluted with white milk. Even a glass of white milk with just a capful of chocolate milk mixed in for a slight, slight taste of sugar is something you'll find often on my table. Same goes for the chocolate sauce. Just a little please.

Now some people, I notice, will only drink milk with certain things, or not at all. Milk is not like wine. It does go with everything. And it's good for you! I think I need to thank milk and my ginormous intake for the reason why I have never broken a bone in my body (there have been moments where I should have) and why I did not recieve my first cavity until age 19. So thanks cows, for keeping me cast-free and void of metal-mouth. Oh, and thank you for being there on those morning afters. You know, the ones where I've drank too much the night before? Yeah, you've neutralized my stomach lining more times than I can remember. Literally.

So if you can, drink your milk, love your milk, appreciate your Island dairy, and as cheesy as they are listen to those Got Milk? ads, and those Joanne and Hal tips, and those lame-ass commercials with fat men rapping about milk. It does the body good.

And tomorrow...the rodeo!

Instant Karma's Gonna Get You

So after work on Sunday, Myself, the Head Chef, the Hotel Owner, and the Dining Room Maitre'D coagulated along the ditch in search of the coins. We may as well of been Mario, Luigi, Toad and Princess. We gathered about 30 dollars by merely hand sifting. So the good news is, is it's there. Scattered about a 50 foot length of ditch. It most definitely looked like we were hunting for magical fungi.

Today I got my hands on the rolling magnet. Luckily it attracted toonies and loonies and quarters. The big ones. It even still picked up dimes and some nickels and pennies. And, and, and. I went out for about an hour rolling the magnet along the ground. I found roughly about thirty more dollars. It's no four hundred, but that's what you get for being el Tardo.

In other news, I've aquired a slight obsession. Not uncommon, I'm sure. And no, it's not the comma, but sometimes I wonder.....It's actually Tony Soprano. I'm on Season 3 of The Sopranos and quite frankly, I CANNOT get enough! I am watching the DVDs back to back to back. I want to be in the "Family." I want my last name to end in a vowel. I want the tips of my thumb and index finger touching as I nod my hands when I talk. When I talk with a slight frown on my face in my Joi-sey accent. They make it look so suave.

On the other hand, my 6-episodes-in-a-row-right-before-sleep marathon last evening may not have been a good idea. I dreamt ALL night about being in the Mob. Money laundering, gambling, murdering. You see I wasn't Made in my dreams, so I was doing a lot of the dirty work. I didn't get my stripes yet. I was driving a black Mercedes though so it wasn't too bad. BUT, I ended up waking up after every Mob related dream in a sweat and feeling as though I was going to get caught. But quickly I dozed off again into a deep sleep and a deep dream. Up until the morning where my last dream was of me trying to get a snot out of my nose that just would NOT come out! I picked and picked, and blew into the Kleenex but it would not budge!

I woke up picking my nose. Class.