Saturday, December 31, 2011
1. I started blogging again. Which has been fun. I enjoy telling stories and sharing funny things with people so that they can laugh too. Laughing is good.
2. I learned to play the violin.
3. I once again experienced time-travel and went back to 1862 where I had a great time living and working in the ever-awesome Barkerville. I continued to build meaningful relationships and friendships in Wells/Barkrville and I know my part in the story of Barkerville is not over yet.
4. I was a really good teacher. I had some awesome lessons, activities, field trips, jokes and stories. I have the craziest-wierdest-best relationship with this group of kids that I've had for two years now. I love them.
5. My dog died.
6. I had the craziest adventure floating, stomping and screaming through a bog.
7. I kept up old friendships with people I love and have loved for 10 years and I'm SO thankful that despite time, distance and new lives that I have these friends. Karmyn, Christy, Jacci, SaraBeth, Gosia.
8. I survived a year separated from my Bestie Tiersa who was living and working in Mexico.
9. I've made plans and dreams for the future.
10. I started running.
11. I lost 50 pounds.
12. I got kicked off an airplane and had the crappiest vacation ever.
13. I got up at 3am one day in April to watch the Royal Wedding.
14. I saved a life.
15. I volunteered with St.John Ambulance
16. I became a big sister.
17. I learned to draw. Well.
18. I decided I don't hate Vancouver anymore.
19. I designed, built and cared for a garden. And it was pretty neat.
20. I quit my job.
21. I took a ceramics class and made a gnome.
22. I tried out Hot Yoga and Zumba.
23. I fed a fox.
24. I went to a crazy hippie festival - and enjoyed myself.
25. I went to a masqurade ball.
26. I went to Seattle for the first time.
27. I laughed a lot.
28. I played a lot of games.
29. I discoved new tv shows like How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, Community, Road to Avonlea
30. I spent time with my family, whom I love a lot.
Wow! I just re-read that list. I did a lot of neat things - and learned a bunch too. I think if I can keep going with a list like that year after year that would be awesome. Life is awesome. God is good. I am blessed.
And because I'm culturally obligated to say this, "Happy New Year"
Monday, December 26, 2011
It's a big deal. It's not finished, but it's in progress and I've reached the point where I want to share what has been happening with my friends and family. People here in Kamloops have seen what has been happening to me, but my family and friends across Canada and the world have no idea what I have been up to.
But I got to thinking as the year draws to a close, that it's time for me to share my success in case anyone else is needing the same thrilling change that I have been experiencing. If you are, call me or e-mail me and I'll get you started down the right path.
Are you ready for the big unveiling?
What am I talking about?
I'm talking about 50 lbs.
I've lost 50lbs.
That is the equivalent to a large bag of dog food, or if you don't do dogs, about the weight of an average nine year old. Amazing!
The truth is, losing weight is hard. And discouraging. It takes so much work and so much commitment that at times I wanted to give up. But for the most part I was good to stick with my diet and my program. I did not go to the gym. I did not get a personal trainer. I did not get a nutritionist. I did not sign up for WeightWatchers, Jenny Craig or any other scheme. I changed my diet and exercised. A lot of my success has to do with the above product from Visalus Sciences. No gimmick, just healthy, nutrient-rich, protein-thick, vitamin-filled, shake mix that I added to fruit smoothies.
Despite losing 50lbs, 6 dress sizes, and 2 bra sizes, I have gained many things. Confidence, a new wardrobe, energy, great skin, health (haven't even had the slightest cold since I started this journey), joy, comfort, strength, skills that I thought I would never had. I used to blame my non-athleticism on my bum ankle - which at times is a legitimate excuse, but not always. I can now run 30 minutes without stopping. My sweat is fat crying and I hate it and like it at the same time.
If you are thinking of weight-loss as a New Years Resolution and are curious about my success, contact me! I did it. I know you can too.
Friday, December 09, 2011
Literally. ALL day and then some. It was just one of those days where there wasn't enough time to get things done and I ended up walking home from work ridiculously late. It was dark, it was cold, it was miserable, it was not a nice night to be out.
I was almost home when my sister texted me "Where are you?"
It never even occurred to me to text back, "I'm almost home, I'm walking down the street" or any other normal-boring response. Nope. I went in for the creep.
I slipped into the backyard and sat on a lawnchair, where I could see Vanessa sitting on the couch, put my feet up, and texted back, "I'm in the backyard. Where are you?"
She whipped her head around, saw me sitting in my winter coat, hat, boots, scaft, mittens, on the lawnchair, opened the back door, and laughingly told me I was a creeper.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
It all started when I was born.
That grew long.
And, lets be honest, pretty glorious. I have pretty nice hair.
The one time I decided I didn't want long, luxurious, curly hair. So in grade 10 I cut it off, whereupon people called me ugly until it grew back. Ever since then I have had long hair. And it's nice. I like it. People compliment me on it. In fact, last Sunday my hair was so nice that three (THREE!) random people (read: strangers) actually reached out and ran their fingers through my hair. I know. That's weird. Really weird. It has never happened before, but it did actually happen on Sunday and works well to illustrate my point. The point that I have nice hair.
I'll get to the point of my 'hair-raising' story (see what I did there? 'hair-raising' so clever). Because I'm a girl, with a lot of hair, I gotta tell you, I shed. Quite a lot. A LOT. And occasionally the train in my tub/shower gets clogged. With hair, and shaving cream, and product, and missing razors, toothpaste lids, all sorts of treasures. Last Thursday I realized it was just about time to unclog the drain. I'm fairly environmental, so I try to avoid products like Draino, and I have this fantastic product called the Turbo Snake that works amazingly. And it gets out EVERYTHING.
Now for the gross part. The stuff I found:
Hope you all have a good day! ;)
Monday, November 07, 2011
Visiting a friend in the hospital and getting to hold her brand-new one-day-old baby as long as I wanted and not having to share her with anyone!
Seriously. I gotta get me one of those one of these days.
The reason I was such an awesome teacher today was that I made grammar class not just fun, but absolutely roll-on-the-floor hilarious. This post might not do it justice, but I'll try.
I teach a split 5/6 class - which is a challenge, but also has it's bright spots. I try to do separate lessons as much as possible so that the curriculum and IRPs get covered. Today after setting the 6th graders to their work (wahoo subordinate clauses - bleh), I started working with the 5's on sentence types. Seriously guys, grammar is not exciting. Whenever I have a super boring grammar lesson I always apologize to my students and say, "I'm sorry guys, sometimes we just have to learn things and it's not exciting. And we have to do it cus' the government says we have to. So don't get moody with me, be mad at the government. Write Stephen Harper a letter or something to complain, don't whine to me, I can't do anything about it."
But today it was hilarious. So hilarious that most of the 6's ignored their subordinate clauses and participated with the 5's in a lesson they had already done last year. Because it was funny and they wanted to be a part of the hilarity. Why so funny? Because I used funny examples.
Declarative Sentences: State a fact.
e.g. Zac Efron is dreamy.
Then they all groaned so I crossed out Zac Efron and wrote Taylor Lautner. (More groaning)
Zane can't stop talking.
Then they all groaned so I crossed out his name and wrote Nathan. Then crossed it out and wrote Caleb, and kept doing that about 8 times going through the kids who talk all the time. It was funny. And everyone was laughing and getting all defensive (in a good funny way) so I crossed off 'can't stop talking' and wrote in 'is very smart and pretty.' (which was funny because it was mostly boys.) then as they were laughing I added more. 'But only between 7 and 8am. The rest of the time he smells. A lot.'
Interoggative Sentences: Ask a question.
e.g. Why isn't Zac Efron Miss. G's boyfriend yet?
How come people think Taylor Lautner is cool, when he clearly isn't?
Exclamatory Sentences: Express strong emotion.
I love Zac Efron! (Do you sense a theme yet?)
Imperative Sentences: State a command.
(by this time we were out of control having fun and laughing so I wrote...)
Get to work!
Do your homework!
and one of my students yelled out:
Stop being bossy! (Which made us laugh more, because I was being bossy, and it was an imperative sentence.)
So I wrote it on the board and added to the end
"Stop being bossy!" said Owen. In detention.
Oh we laughed.
It was so good to be reviewing and learning, but laughing so hard. And it's so good to have a relationship with my students where I can healthily tease them and they can tease me back. Laughter is good. Relationships are good. Being a teacher is not always about being the boss, it's about being a role model, and encourager, an entertainer, an advisor, a discipler, and a trainer.
And today I was.
Friday, November 04, 2011
It's taken me five days to calm down, and now I can look back and see that it wasn't really that terrible. It was still terrible, but not THAT terrible.
It all started when I woke up and it was still dark out. Nobody likes that.
My students were crazy.
I had to leave school right away at 2:40 beacuse I had a meeting all the way up the moutain AND across town. So I didn't get to clean up, or do marking, or leave feeling prepared.
Went to my meeting - which was good.
Drove 1/2 way down the mountain to church. Where I realized I forgot my purse at my meeting location 15 minutes away. And no one was going to be there the rest of the night.
Cooked dinner for 40 young adults at church, even though I didn't want to.
Drove back to get my purse.
Drove ALL the way home at the very bottom of the mountain on the other side of town.
The door was locked.
We NEVER lock the door.
My cell phone was dead.
The neighbours were all out trick-or-treating.
I was tired and crabby and just wanted to go to bed. I went over to my friend Gracie's house to use her phone. But do you think I have my sister's phone number memorized? No. Why would I? It's on speed dial.
Called the wrong number.
Called my mom to get my sister's number.
Called my sister. She didn't pick up.
Thought I'd call the church where I left her.
I worked at the church for 5 years. Do you think I have that number memorized? No. I ended up calling my pastors home instead.
Called the church. Talked to my sister and told her to come let me in the house.
Eventually made it home, way past my bedtime.
And just when I thought my night couldn't get worse....
My dog died.
Back inthe day when Sandy was a puppy... and alive... :(
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Take for example what happened on Monday. I told them an interactive Bible story. So whenever I said "Esther" they had to cat call, when I said "Mordecai" they had to clap and cheer. "Haaman" got boo's, and King Xerxes called for them to stand up and shout "long live the king!"
Just a new fun way to tell a story that they have heard before.
The assignment: Choose a Biblical hero and turn his/her story into an interactive one that you can share with the class.
Now, I'm not a newbie at teaching anymore. I know full well that when an open assignment such as this is given, it will lead to distractions and a few kids not doing what they are supposed to be doing. While working with another group, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that one group of boys was clearly goofing around. I storm over there.
One of the boys is holding his nose and trying not to cry. He is clearly hurt. I ask the boys what happened.
"We were working on our assignment," they replied. I gave them 'the look."
"Do NOT tell me that you were working on your assignment,"I say in my best angry teacher voice. "Do NOT tell me that is what you were doing. Clearly you were NOT working on your assignment. What is going on here?"
"Really Miss. G. We were working on our assignment!" the boys insisted. I kneel down to the boy who is hurt and ask gently,
"Bobby*, can you tell me what happened?" He looks up at me with tear filled eyes,
"We were working on our story!" I once again give him 'the look.' You know, the I-don't-believe-you-stop-tying-to-not-get-in-trouble-we-have-a-problem-here-Look. He continues. "We were doing the story, and I was being the water, and they were being Jesus and Peter and walking on me!"
First of all, I get 10 000 points for not immediately laughing at them. Secondly, I gave them my 'look' again and said, "Well boys.... didn't really think that one through did you?"
Shamefaced, and smirking a bit all four of them start giggling at what a bad idea they had followed through with.
(*Names have been changed to protect identity)
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Step Two: Drive through Bellingham and point out all the stops of interest on Me and Bethany's doomed trip to Vegas. We were so hungry by this point that we stopped at the first place that looked like it had food. It also was a bowling alley. Apparently that is a popular thing in the USA. I had no idea. I'm thinking that bowling and eating at the same time isn't particularly sanitary. Oh well.
Step Four: Your only hint for our first stop is the ever so hot Sam and Dean Winchester - from the tv show "The Adventures of Sam and Dean Winchester." aka Supernatural. Which we *never* (cough cough) watch. We ended up at a haunted corn maze in Everett WA, which was AMAZING. They hired professional actors to dress up as ghosts and sasquatches and people chasing you around with chainsaws. It was really well done. Good fun. And I don't care that some of you don't approve of my choice of Friday night activities. We laughed.
Five. Pike Place Market. Pretty good, but a bit disappointing after thinking for 3 months that it would be like Granville Island in Vancouver. Granville Island gets 100%, Pike Place Market gets a 70%. However, the singing, fish-throwing fishermen were quite cool.
Six. Tea and crumpets and a horrible rendition of an Asian tourist photo. We are so white.
Seven. This guy. Dumb. Seriously. You cover yourself in silver paint, fill your pockets with birdseed and then expect me to PAY you? No. I'm sorry. You are not contributing to society whatsoever, and your 'job' is dumb. You are a terrible street performer, you don't entertain me, and I don't care how bad the recession is - do something useful.
Eight. Laugh at the note attached to this t-shirt.
Eight. Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. Yum Yum.
Nine. Hat store. Awesome. I have so many pictures.
Ten: Blue Man Group. ahhhh maaaaze ing. So fun.
Eleven. Cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory. Seriously. To die. for. It was delicious. I'm pretty sure heaven tastes like cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
About a week and a half ago - my free, super ghetto bike - started giving me signs that perhaps it was in need of some TLC. I didn't give my bike any care and continued to ride it - although slower and more careful than normal. Something was definitely not right with my bike. It just didn't feel... solid... safe... normal...
(Me on a ride in happier days)
Yesterday my bike fell apart. Literally. As I was riding it.
I was biking to work like normal (all of 2km) and just before work, as I was peddling away, my handlebars fell off. Full out, 100% fell off my bike. That was awkward. Luckily I was going slowly around a corner and up an incline so I was able to jump off and not crash/kill myself. Then I carried my bike in one arm, and the handles in the other, the rest of the way to school. I'm sure I looked dumb, but I was alive. AND my patheticness caused our building manager to fix my bike for me! Woot Woot!
Sunday, October 09, 2011
mmmmm. bliss. Throw some turkey at me and it's pretty much heaven.
So today I present to you my top eleven list of things to do on a Holiday Weekend.
1. Sleep in.
2. Eat french toast (preferably made by someone else - high 5 to my sister Beth for this mornings breakfast deliciousness)
3. Get all dressed up - take extra time with hair and make-up.
4. Have a morning nap - and you are already looking all pretty, so pretend you are a princess at the same time and that your handsome prince charming (who BTW looks like Paul Walker) will wake you up.
5. Hug people and be nice.
6. Eat good food. Like turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, etc.
7. Do crafts.
8. Have an afternoon nap.
9. Play games.
10. Go shopping.
11. Stay up late.
Smiles. And I'm going to do it all again tomorrow!
Sunday, October 02, 2011
I have a serious problem. A conundrum if you will. A question that needs answering and a riddle to be solved. I've taken to asking my question to everyone I meet and after a brief moment of serious thought and reflection, no person has been able to give me a straight answer.
I can't sleep, I can't eat (I can't eat? Someone make me some pork - 50 000 bonus points if you can tell me where that quote is from.) I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I'm a failure because I can't solve this one life question. I'm hoping that among my wide-spread audience (all 12 of you), there is someone out there who can answer me this: If I ate myself, would I be twice as big or disappear entirely?
See - - You are thinking about the answer to that question aren't you.
Your welcome for bringing this thought provoking question to your attention.
Monday, September 19, 2011
It really hurt.
I mean, my eye was minty-fresh, but also blurry and in a lot of pain.
I often do object lessons when trying to teach a skill or a concept to a group of kids. I think object lessons are valuable, fun and really can get a point across. Yesterday my point was that we learn to do things by observing and watching other people - and that other people teach us and show us how to do things.
For the object lesson I put on a plastic bag and blindfolded a kid. I told him that there were two things on the table. He had to figure out what they were, and then use the objects - on me. He quickly figured out that it was toothpaste and a toothbrush and after building it up for a while that I had never in my life brushed my teeth, (which, BTW is a lie) I told him that he was going to have to show me how. Blindfolded. Because he was such an expert on teeth brushing.
And that's how I got toothpaste in my eye. And on my neck. And through my eyebrows. And up my nose.
It was a great object lesson for the kids. And I learned something too - don't let kids near your face with a brush and/or anything that may require an eye-wash station.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
During an interview.
Obviously not the best place to say something dumb.
The question: What makes you really sad?
I thought for approximately 0.007 seconds before I blurted out "people killing kittens."
Which, in my defense is REALLY sad.
But is also a dumb answer. Good answers would have included: child soldiers, poverty, rainy days, cancer etc.
But when I was asked the question, all I could think of was this video.
I don't know why. I haven't seen or thought of that video for 5 months, but it was the first thing that popped into my head. Watch the whole thing. It is WELL worth your time.
I also said another dumb thing. This guy was firing off, literally, a million questions about everything ranging from hobbies, to relationships, to jobs, to traffic tickets, to family etc. And it's going quick.
The question: What's your opinion on marriage?
Me: Yes please!!!
I probably should have clarified - not to him, just in general. I'm pro-marriage. I also could have said, "I support the concept of marriage. I think it's a good idea."
But I didn't say that. That would have been too normal.
But normal is boring.
Monday, September 05, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
My last night in Barkerville was a blast.
I attended the Fireman's Masqurade Ball, which is a victorian tradidition in Barkerville dating back many, many years. Everyone had to dress in formal victorian wear (or the best they could come up with), wear masks, fascinators and get formally announced at the door. There was a formal sit-down dinner and then a dance.
I had a beautiful dress all planned out, but 5 minutes before we left when I put it on, the zipper split so at the last minute I had to borrow a dress from a friend. It worked out ok, but my dress was better. Sad, sad, day.
It was an awesome event, not just because it was something random that I had never done before, but because the only people allowed to come were people that worked in Barkerville. It was great to just hang out for an entire night with all the people that make the town come alive during the day. No entertaining tourists, no strangers, just all Barkerville people. It was great.
Here's some pictures.
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Since my first day here this season, a group of friends and I have been planning on driving to a town called Stanley which is along the Cariboo Wagon Road that leads to Barkerville. Our plan was to go as soon as we had a nice evening. That nice evening came on August 5. (I kid you not, August five was the first nice evening). Because the Cariboo Wagon Road (often considered the 8th wonder of the world) is 160 years old, it is virtually impassable unless by foot, we drove around and came in from the far side instead.
Stanley was a booming town just like Richfield, Barkerville, Camerontown, Marysville and Wells, but when the gold played out, the town became abandoned and slowly rotted into the ground. Today all that is left is a dilapidated cemetery and two buildings. We walked around and explored the area for quite some time before heading back to Wells.
When I wander around these old cemeteries I often think of the people that lay beneath the rotting, moss covered headstones. Is there anyone left in the world that remembers that that person is buried there? What kind of a life did the person live? What kind of legacy did he leave?
I think when I die, I’ll have a florescent pink, twinkle and neon-lighted statue built on my grave - Las Vegas style. With my life story engraved around the bottom. Ooohhhh, OR the statue will talk and move and tell my story. It’ll be a major attraction that people will come to see from all over the world. Forget about me? Heck no!
The truth is, I’m not concerned with the legacy I leave here on earth. Obviously I want to be a decent person and have people think well of me, but my few years on this earth is so little compared to eternity that I’m living for that part of my life instead of this one.
Today, think about what legacy you are living for.
On Monday my mom and Granny came to visit me in Barkerville. My granny is out here from Ontario so I was really glad that she made the trek all the way to Barkerville to see me. We had a great time meandering though the town, visiting with all the characters, shopping, seeing a show and eating lunch. As part of the day my mom, granny and I got our picture taken at L.A. Blanc Photographic Gallery and Studio where I work. I really wanted us all to be outlaws, and I had granny in this awesome dress and buckskin jacket and cowboy hat, but she didn’t like it so she got a fancy dress instead and me and mom were outlaws.
My response? “You lived through World War Two, and THIS is the worst thing that has ever happened to you?”
That sent us into fits of laughter for the rest of the day.
Last weekend was the long awaited Arts Wells Festival. This festival is a celebration of all things art. Music, dance, crafts, painting, drawing, weaving, instruments etc. You name it and it was probably there (including a workshop on how to play the bass - not the guitar, not the cello-like instrument, but the washtub-broomstick-string combination).
Last year I didn’t attend the festival, but this year I purchased a weekend pass and had a surprisingly good time at the festival. I was impressed with the quality and quantity of bands that performed and although I had to work and couldn’t attend any of the workshops, I did wish I could have gone to a few.
The Arts Wells Festival draws in people (mostly hippies) from around Canada and the states. For 4 days around 10 000 hippies descend on the town of Wells (population 250). Tents are pitched anywhere and everywhere and despite large amounts of drinking and smoking there is very little, if any, crime. Everyone is polite and curteous and friendly.
On the first night of the festival I knew that I was in for something different. An impromptu band popped up in the middle of the street and started playing music. A crowd formed and the crowd started to dance. In the middle of the street. The entire weekend was like that.
Although I am not a hippie - far from it- I decided to use the weekend as an opportunity to observe a culture different from my own. While participating on an exchange with Canada World Youth I learned that no culture is “weird’, they are just “different.” So I bring you my list of observations and I do not state them because they are ‘weird’ I state them because they are ‘different.’
- 10,000 campers + 3 public showers in town = smelly weekend.
- Dreads are really cool. Double cool if you play the cello or violin.
- Pee wherever you want. On my front lawn, no problem.
- Camp wherever you want. The baseball field, the ditch, my back yard, the side of the road, whatever works for you.
- Dance. All the time.
- Men can wear flowery silk skirts.
- Barefeet make you 100% more hippie than the guy beside you wearing sandals.
- Clowns are the new fad. Forget vampires, it’s all about clowns now.
- Make music whenever, wherever with whatever you can find.
- You are never too old to be a hippie. (85 yr old)
- You are never too young to be a hippie. (1 month old)
I actually really enjoyed myself on the weekend. Caught up with some old friends, danced a bit, watched many, many bands and just chilled. Good Times.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
"Help! Someone help! What happened? Help!!!!"
I take a peek out the window and notice an elderly man laying on the ground. I yell for my boss to call for First Aid as I heft up my skirts and run out the door to assist the man in need. I fall to the dirt, my skirts (yes, plural, I'm also wearing petticoats), pooling in the dirt of the street around me as I assess the situation.
Friday, July 08, 2011
Wednesday, I was driving to a great couple's home for dinner. They don't really know me, but are super nice and friendly and they invited me over. I knew that we were having rice noodles as part of the meal. I've never had rice noodles. What if I had an allergic reaction in the middle of dinner! We are out in the boon-docks and it would take an hour to get to a hospital. I would die. Would my life insurance still get divvied out, or would the company deny my family the money because technically I'm not teaching during July and August? Who would pack up my room here in Wells? Who would say my eulogy? Would anyone from Ontario fly out for the funeral? Where would my ashes be spread?
Then, after that panic attack I saw a MASSIVE moose on the side of the road. What if I hit it? and died - refer to above scenario.
Thursday, what if the touron (tourist-moron) that is smoking on the boardwalk (in the town made of wood btw), drops his butt and the town lights on fire? Do I have to help put it out? I haven't been trained in historical-village-fire-putting-out. What if my skirt gets on fire! It's synthetic, it'll probably melt to my legs and I'll have these nasty plastic blue-flowered legs the rest of my life. Do I just watch as the town burns down? Do I run away? Do I help clear out the shop?
Various times during the week, I'm out walking, biking or doing something in this sleepy semi-deserted town and I wonder, what would happen if I came across the resident grizzly bear and her2 cubs? She'd swipe my leg and I'd be all bleeding. Who would save me? No one comes out of their homes before 9am when I'm usually out and about. Would I use my sweater to staunc the flow of blood? It's polyester, would that just act as a sieve and pull out more blood making me bleed more? I don't want to use my super awesome, but also inappropriate Dirty Dancing T-Shirt that I'm wearing today! That was my best V V find ever!
Those are the thoughts that go through my mind when I'm awake.
What goes through my mind while I"m asleep you ask? Well last night me and Vin Diesel saved the town of Wells from a nuclear bomb attack.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
I'm happy to be here in Wells/Barkerville.
Last nigh wa a staff BBQ at the park and it was so good to reconnect with and see some of my old aquaintences and friends. People were thrilled to see that I had come back and there were lots of hugs and smiles and jumping up in surprise.
My favourite greeting was when I saw one of the actors and as he gave me a hug, he said, "Welcome home." Not welcome back, but wecome home. It took me off guard for a miinute because home to me is Kamloops, but as I digested his words I thought to myself, "yeah, you know what, this is my summer home. This is where my heart lives during the winter, and it's where my mind and passions have lived ever sinc I was 12. History. The past. Making heritage real and living.
The following pictre is one my roomate/friend/co-worker Hayley took this morning.
That would be a fox eating from my hand.
His name is Mr. Socks ad our apartment building has adopted him.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
I just re-read that sentence and it sounds like I only shower once a year. That is a false lie. I shower regularly. But do you know what I'm talking about? You have that one super-dirty-smelly weekend (usually after camping as I was) and you go into the shower feeling like you are caked in a mixture of dirt, sweat and boogers, and you scrub and scrub and scrub and come out feeling cleaner than you've ever felt before. You soap up, lather, rinse AND repeat (as in wash your hair twice), shave, maybe shave again for good measure, scrub your feet, clean under your fingernails and then lather up again and have an extra-hot rinse. Glorious.
Deoderant, some perfume, pluckage of the eyebrows and you feel like a new person.
This new person is now off to my last movie of the summer. Wednesday I head north where the idea of going to a movie is just that - an idea that can't happen. Live theatre every night of the week? sure! Movies? No such luck.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The region I will be living is in the Cariboo, east of Quesnel BC, pretty much in the middle of nowhere and literally at the very end of a long and winding mountain road.
Wells, BC, where I'll be living is a small town with an average population of about 300 people. It is a tiny town filled with arts and culture and history. It's surprising that this town is so small and yet has three art galleries as well as a regularly attended theatre. Most of the people who live in Well's are seasonal employees at Barkerville (North America's premier heritage attraction) or work at one of the many gold mines in the area.
I will be working in Barkerville, North America's largest Heritage Village. Everyone who works in the town dresses in 1880's style (including underwear), speaks and acts Victorian 100% of the time when we are at work. We are not even permitted to speak about modern things or our regular out of work lives with eachother when the public is around. We are dedicated to bringing the past and the Cariboo Gold Rush alive to the thousands of visitors that come through the gates each season.
If you know anything about me, you know that I love history, and if you were a part of my childhood in any capacity, you know that I dressed up like Dr. Quinn more than I dressed up like Nikki Gerrits. This is the perfect job for me. I love it. I love my job at the photography studio, I love visiting the other merchants and workers in town, I love interacting with the street interpreters and actors, and I love being a part of a very small town where everyone knows everyone. Living in Wells/Barkerville is the strangest experience, it really is like going back in time, and I really enjoy it. I'll try to keep posting through the summer to let you see parts of my life there.
Keep well everyone!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Let's think about this. I am quite conservative. I have an unusual obsession with history and Barkerville, I like to wear Victorian clothes, I play violin, I have a limp and arthritis and I know every hymn in the hymn book.
So, as part of my 'being 80 years old in a 28 year old's body' issue, I took up a new hobby this spring and I want to share the final result with you. My new hobby? Ceramics.
And I rocked that class 20's style. Those old ladies didn't know what hit them when I showed up. And here is the results of my ceramics class experience: Pierpont the Gnome. He's adorable and awesome and I love him. Especially his Klompen.
That shout out to my awesome God is yes, partly a thank you that it is the end of the year, but mostly a shout out because it was a pretty fantastic year. I had a pretty great class this year. I liked them and for the most part I think they liked me. I built good relationships with them and I *think* that the might have learned a few things from me. :D
Here's my top ten from this past year at Kamloops Christian School
10. Taking my class skiing.
9. The Christmas Party.
8. The Human Body Science Experiments.
7. Heritage Fair Projects.
6. Telling stories. Me, them, whoever. We talked a lot about stuff that was not related to the curriculum.
5. Tuesday's. Every single one of them.
4. Track and Field at the school and at zones.
3. The class-nap we took on Pajama Day where everyone full out 100% slept.
2. Swimming Lessons.
1. All the staff. I like them all and we work well together and get along as colleagues and friends.
Just a few more days and we will all be parting ways. My students will be spending two weeks swimming, playing sports, vacationing and relaxing and I'll be heading north where I get to go back and time and live out my dream. Stay tuned for more information about that!
Keep Well Everyone!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Seriously, whoever owns this business has clever advertising and a sense of humor. And actually, a really good business because seriously, no one likes to pick up dog poop. And think of all the elderly and housebound people who can't pick up after their little dogs that they love. I hope the owner of this business keeps busy and makes a good living.
Friday, June 10, 2011
After calming my heart rate down after being shocked by this grotesque statue, I took a good look at it (but I didn't look directly in it's eyes, that would be too much to handle.) I decided that the cat is ugly. Not just ugly, but uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhgly. I threw up in my mouth a little bit and wondered how this uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhgly cat had gotten into my back yard.
I put on some gloves (because lets face it, would you touch it with your bare skin?) and just as I was about to smash it and burn it, I made a mistake. I looked at it again. I noticed all the chips, and the creepy paw-nails, it's devilish look of contempt, it's perky ears listening for it's master (the devil obviously) to call it back to where it belongs, and I decided that the cat was so hideous, that I was just going to have to keep it and love it. Extend it some grace if you will...
As part of keeping it and loving it I put it up on the ledge that backs onto the Rivers Trail that runs through my backyard. Probably a hundred people use that trail every day. And every day those hundred people get to see my devil cat staring at them.
A group of students walking to the pool one day noticed the devil cat (hereafter named CatKirk), and they began yelling, "Ohhhh my eyes! My eyes!!! They are burning! That cat is uuuuhhhgly!"
A few days later a pre-school class stopped, pointed, laughed and I believe some cried. I would apologize to their parents for the nightmares that most likely came as a result of meeting CatKirk, but really, it makes me laugh.
My neighbour has asked me numerous times to get rid of it because every morning it stares at her through her back window. It also makes her 3 year old cry.
But CatKirk remains. And he will remain on that ledge forever.
Friday, June 03, 2011
Tonight I gave hot yoga a whirl.
I have never felt more disgusting in my life. Disgusting in a 'good/healthy/revolting/I'm going to barf' kind of way.
The premise of hot yoga is this; shove 40 females and 3 strange (read: weird) males into a tiny room. Turn the heat on. Turn the heat up. Keep turning the heat up. Let the room fill with body heat and then, for good measure, turn the heat up a little bit more. Do yoga.
I've never really been that interested in yoga (or sweating for that matter) so what possessed me to try hot yoga I don't know. I'm not into all the other mumbo jumbo ('thank everyone for sharing their breath with you, find your inner divinity blah blah blah), my facbook brain automatically clicks *ignore* when they go into this and I think about how I can become a tiny, bendy, perfectly proportioned Asian like the girl in front of me.
But I did it. Almost all 90 minutes of it. (I had to take a break half way through because I actually thought I was going to barf and or faint - two things I rarely, if ever do). And I sweated. None of this 'girls glisten' sweating, but full on, dripping rivers down my legs and arms sweating. Droplets of sweat falling from my brow to make a satisfying splash on the linoleum. My clothing is actually wet to the point where I could wring it out.
I'm undecided. I always tell people to give everything three chances, and I'll probably do the same for sweaty-yoga. Wanna join me next time?
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I've been wanting to share with you for quite some time the following magazine cover. I *just* found my phone cord (horray for cleaning my dresser out!) so now I can share it with you.
My favourite part is the last line "A national identity is in peril"
Our National Identity - our bacon loving, red and white, maple syrup drinking, comedian producing, peacekeeping, largest coastline, second largest land mass, mountie, beaver, moose, mosaic, free, roll up the rim fanatics identity is in peril? Because 30 000 fewer kids played hockey this year?
I think not.
I never played hockey. And I already told you that I don't really care about hockey. Does that make me any less of a Canadian? To some, yes it would. But I know in my maple leaf tattooed heart and soul that I love Canada. Love it times a million - and hockey has nothing to do with my proud Canadian identity.
P.S. Lacrosse is our national sport, it should be our identity not some sport whose history begins in ancient Egypt.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Ever since I realized that I have a hat-head (aka, I can pull off hats and look cool), I've started a hat collection. Do I wear them that often? No, not really, But I do like them. It bugs my best friend Tiersa to no end, because she also loves hats, but looks like a doofus in every single one she tries on. Then inevitably, I'll try on the same hat, be awesome, and buy it. Suck-ah. I don't feel bad though because she has awesome hair and way more style than me.
A few weeks ago I was visiting with my good friend Karmyn in Vancouver and we discovered a hat. In retrospect, I probably should have bought it, because it really is awesome. AND has hundreds of uses as you will see.
That's right. A hat made from underpants. Excellent.
The best use I think, is the UN Summit Meetings. Could you imagine??? Oh I can imagine. And I laugh. Excellent.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
But I feel like today is a good day to vent to you my very strong feelings on a particular topic. And if it offends you, well you can just stop reading my blog. Because this is, after all, my blog and I can write what I want.
Today's vent topic is:
TIGHTS ARE NOT PANTS.
The only excuse for wearing tights as pants are in the following situations.
1. You are wearing a diaper underneath. This hopefully means that you are a child, a baby actually. Babies can wear tights. Or even like a super adorable 5 year old. But after that, no. No tights as pants.
2. They are underneath snowpants and you are not planning on taking off said snowpants.
3. And in SOME - note that, SOME, circumstances it is acceptable to wear tights provided that your skit, shirt or sweater covers at least your buttocks if not a little bit more.
I feel like the people of the world have not heard this message. I see tights as pants all the time and it drives me crazy. I kinda want to go up to people - even people who can pull them off and look ok, and just say, "hey, I'm not sure if you got the memo, but tights are called tights for a reason, because they are tights. They are not meant to be pants."
The worst is when people wear tights as pants but they bought a size that they thought fit - but they don't. And they are all stretched out and see-through. Ugh. I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about all the times I've seen that.
I'm hoping that the widespread audience that this blog has will spread the world that tights are not pants.
If that doesn't work, I'm declaring June 4 as "Tights aren't Pants" day and everyone in the world - especially fat people, are going to wear tights to show everyone else in the world, that tights are not attractive and should not be worn as pants.
Amen. The End.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
She, in all her wisdom, figured out why we Gerrits Girls are so incredibly healthy. Seriously, we NEVER get sick. Oh we might get the occasional cold once every two years, but for the most part, we never get ill.
Turns out, that when you laugh, the up and down movement of your chest vibrates against something (thalymus maybe? something scienc-ey) and that motion releases endorphines and all sorts of other good germ-fighting things into your blood stream - keeping you healthy.
And my sisters and I laugh a lot. A LOT A LOT. So that is why we are so healthy! Because we are happy and we laugh.
Here's a laugh for you:
We have a little neighbour girl who is three and is as round as she is tall. She's adorable and we love her. She never remembers our names even though we see her every day! So we are constantly reminding her what our names are. Anyways, one day when she asked Beth what her name was, Beth responded with "Hannah Montana." Go figure that our little neighbour girl remembered Beth's name now. Bethany, for the last 4 months, has been called on a regular basis - Hannah Montana. She actually thinks that is what Beth's name is, and it makes us laugh every time she asks 'Hannah Montana' if she can come over for a freezie.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Anyways, I was on a field trip so I got the whole 'art gallery' experience. The tour with the lady who is just a little bit too into the art pieces and analyzing them, the command to look at the abstract art and try to figure out what the artist was feeling, the overly long time spent in a white gallery with weird pictures that three year olds could have drawn. I realized that I have absolutely no appreciate for art. At all. It's not the gallery's fault, or the artists fault, or growing up in a very un-artsy culture, I just can not, for the life of me, understand or care about a bunch of random paint splatters on a neutral background. It's not interesting.
At the end of the tour we were given a post card and we were to draw an abstract picture for someone and mail it to them. I looked at my blank postcard mocking the whole process in my head, wondering what to draw. I sat there and the guide, in her most artsy voice tells us to, "draw what you are feeling."
I wasn't sure how to draw: "I feel like abstract art is boring, stupid and weird."
So I put my creative cap on and convinced myself to draw the most randomly abstract drawing that anyone has ever seen. Here is what I came up with:
Monkey Butt with a duck foot? Check.
Random Clock? Check.
Picket Fence? Check.
Dice that turns into a window? Heck yes, don't mind if I do add that.
Book coming out of a tree? Obviously.
I call this piece, "Abstract Art is Wierd" And it symbolizes how I "FEEL"Abstract Art is random and wierd and makes absolutely no sense.
You can order a print of this piece for three easy payments of $39.99. If you order today you get free shipping and handling.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
But this morning I decided to start work a little bit later. Partly because I was tired and just wanted to go later, and partly because it is that time of year again – the best time of year for teachers. The end of school. This is a season full of swimming lessons, field trips, track and field sports days, CAT testing and special guests. Which means my actual teaching/marking/projects/preparation time has significantly decreased. Which means going to work at 7:30am is no longer a necessity. Horay!
So I got to see Bethany this morning, and surprise of all surprises, she says to me, “wow, you are in a good mood this morning.”
And you know what put me in a good mood?
Nope, not seeing Bethany.
Nope, not starting work later.
America’s Funniest Home Video’s.
Seriously. That show is hilarious! I watch it every morning while I eat breakfast and it makes me laugh. I might be a jerk for saying it, but it is always funny to watch someone fall down!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
It all started at my 'awesome party' . I brought out the most awesome book I have ever seen. Dancing With Cats. It is basically a book about people who dance with their cats. It is a totally serious book, but if you are even slightly normal, it is impossible to read this book without laughing. And we laughed. Hard.
A few weeks later, a pastor friend of mine asked to borrow my Dancing With Cat's book to use as a sermon illustration. My first thought was, "That will make your sermon hilarious, but how the heck in the world can you use Dancing With Cat's as a sermon illustration?!?!?" He went on to tell me that he was going to be preaching about how people idolize things in their life that should not come before God. It's a stretch, but ok.
I was so stoked to see my book used in church, that I cheated on my own church and attended his for the morning with a few friends. This was my friends last time preaching at his church as he was moving to another job within the week. We told him we were going to support him.... but actually I wanted to see my book being used.
Then, sermon time came. And my friend started talking about idols, and then showed the book and went on quite a tangent about how ridiculous it is. And then....
And then he said this. And I quote, "Seriously people! This is ridiculous! Dancing with cats! Who does that? Do any of you do that?"
And four hands in the congregation went up.
Oh the awkwardness.
Oh the funnieness.
Oh the strangness that people in my community do this!
I'd like to tell you that my friend made a good save, that he redeemed himself. But remember, it was his last day at this job, he didn't have to impress anyone. And somehow, in his mind, it was appropriate to say, "Really? Well... you're wierd. Dancing with cats is wierd. Get a real hobby."
Oh, I'm dying laughing just thinking about it.
Monday, May 09, 2011
And if you feel the need to do any of the following, please come over on Tuesday around 4pm.
a) dig stuff
b) play in the dirt
c) build things
d) stain things
e) pull weeds
f) plant grass
g) make a bouquet of tulips
h) level patio stones
i) see me and hang out
j) watch me work with a nice cold smoothie in your hand
P.S. Tonight I'm going to paint a garden gnome for my awesome garden. It's name will be Pierpont the Gee-Nome
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Anyways, in order to make her appreciate Kamloops - and especially how she never sees me, I took her out on an earring date. Earring dates are different than regular dates because you wear earrings. This means that you put more effort into getting ready and that the person you are going out with isn't just some joe-shmoe who you couldn't care less about. I put on my earingeyest earrings and met Tiersa at White Spot where I devoured the most amazing Fajita Salad I have ever had.
I knew exactly what movie to pick for our date. I knew that in Tiersa's eyes I could not go wrong choosing the Vin Deisel, Paul Walker combo of Fast Five. Tiersa loves these types of movies. And while I can (note that word... can) enjoy them, I seriously just could not handle Fast Five.
It all started when right before the movie the phrase "Original Picture" came up, and I snideley remarked, 'uh.... call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure this movie has already been made four times already."
Now I love Paul Walker. Really I do. I think he is the most terrible actor in Hollywood, but he's super dreamy so I can ignore all the cheesy lines and his very fake angry face. Vin, Meh. The Rock? Seriously? What? I don't know what it was, but the combo of Vin and the Rock made me giggle every time I saw them together! It was like when they were in the same room their ego's (and muscles) couldn't both fit and the scenes were unbelievably cheesy! Like I laughed every time. They are in this serious angry-fight and all yelling at eachother and punching eachother and I'm thinking, "is this real? seriously? This is terribly cheesy!"
Other than the Vin/Rock combo, the movie was obviously far-fetched, filled with some 'of course that just happened' moments, and was the typical Fast and Furious type movie that I've come to expect.
Tiersa on the other hand loved every single moment of it.
It would have been a hundred times better if the Rock got rid of his sick goatee, and/or was re-cast with Shemar Moore (aka Derek Morgan of Criminal Minds) playing his role.
Excellent Fajita Salad + Paul Walker + Tiersa = Awesome
Subtract the lame-o Dwayne Johnston,
And you still get a pretty decent evening.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
The top keyword search that leas to this blog?
Yes. Deerskin pants. 29 times people have put in the phrase 'deerskin pants' and been led to Nikkiginkamloops.blogspot.com. This is hilarious. I sat and pondered this for a while. How is this possible? Do I really talk about deerskin pants all that often? I didn't think so. But after thinking about this statistic for a while I realized that in some of my earlier posts, I probably mentioned my favourite manly-man Byron Sully and his deerskin pants on more than one occassion. Because they are ridiculous. And awesome.
Next on the list (other than my name), comes 80's party, Kamloops Glee Club and Bellingham Chickens.
My first thought is that the phrase 'Bellingham Chickens' is very vague. And I'm pretty sure I have never, ever talked about chickens on my blog although I have mentioned Bellingham before. How did those two get put together and led to my blog?
Tied for third place we have: Dutch Blitz, can you get fake boobs in Kamloops, and is Titanic2 a true strory.
a. I like that game
b. I have no idea and
c. really? You are curious as to if Titanic 2 is a true story? I'm sorry, but yes, I am laughing at you.
I hope that those searches made you laugh like they made me laugh.
Have a good one all!
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
If you are a girl, you most likely saw a lot of princess movies. And in these princess movies the common girl always had a group of friendly talking animal friends. These friendly talking animal friends would usually help her out of a scrape and often help her get ready for a big banquet or ball. (Think Cinderella where the rats and birds dress her up.)
This Friday, unfortunately for me and my childhood (and adult) dreams, Prince William will marry Kate Middleton.
A common girl.
Being turned into a princess.
No doubt she will have a hoard of stylists there to help her.
And according to my knowledge of common-girls-turning-into-princesses, that means that her assistants will be little blue birds.
And they better televise that part of the wedding too!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Here are the highlights of my busy week.
1. Visiting with Aunt Chris and Uncle Steve who told me a hilarious (and true) story about how their mullet and long boarding loving son got beat up by a butch (and I quote "corn-fed country") girl.
2. Being none-too subtle for the last three weeks at staff meetings about my preference for old-school CRC-inspired hymns during the Easter Sunday service, specifically "Up From the Grave He Arose." I was pleasantly surprised, no, I was overjoyed, when it was the second song this morning. I may or may not have jiggled a little jig and almost cheered outloud. . .
3. Winning at a new card game
4. Finding my host sister from 10 years ago in Poland on Facebook.
5. Getting a free I-Pod from the coolest chick I know who once visited every 7-11 in town with me to partake/ abuse free slurpee day (July 11, every year, mark it on your calendar)
And that's my top five. Love you all.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Dagnabit. Plucking your eyebrows hurts.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but does anybody want my eyebrows to look like this?
I thought not. Why then is it not ok for my eyebrows to be au natural? Like this:
I'm not going to lie. Sometimes my eyebrows do look similar to that. If I don't have time (ahem the energy) to put make-up on in the morning, what makes you think that I have the time (ahem desire) to painfully pluck a bunch of miniature hairs out of my face so that my eyes can look like this:
Then there is always the danger that you take too much away and end up like this:
My encouragement today: If you see someone with nice eyebrows - compliment them on it. It was a painful process getting them that way. And my second encouragement is this: if God wanted caterpillars on our face, He wouldn't have created them to live on the ground. Think about it.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Earlier this year I threw a party and to everyone's shock and disappointment I did not have a theme. So I told them the them was 'awesome.' As in the party would be awesome, they were awesome, I'm awesome, life is awesome. And to gain entry into my awesome party they had to bring or share one thing that they thought was awesome. It was great. I was introduced to some things that actually were awesome, and got to share with my friends some things that I think are awesome like the book Dancing with Cats, a glow-in the dark dancing scene from Body Rock, and I think that was also the day I made strawberry-kiwi jam, but didn't plan very well - I had a severe lackage of jars and I vaguely recall making everyone eat bread and jam, because my parties are cool like that.
Anyways, I want to share with you my top ten list of awesome things for the month of April.
1. Febreeze Winter Evening & Warmth
2. Adidas Sport Fever Body Wash
3. Mary-Kay Oil Free Make-Up Remover
4. Aveeno Moistruizer
6. Ebay, Etsy, Craigslist, Kijiji, Garage Sales, Auctions
7. Sharp, new pencils
8. Digestive Cookies
9. My Jobs
10. Wearing Nailpolish again.
What do you think I should put on my next list of awesomeness?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Just think about it, you get to travel all over the country to skeezy parts of every city and dig through other people's junk until you find a treasure. Like a $1200 pair of jeans, or an antique gun worth $3000. It's amazing. Yesterday's episode solidified my desire. The guy bought a totally junk-filled, useless unit and in the back corner found a suitcase. A suitcase full of $17 000 worth of Tiffany jewlery! SEVEN. TEEN. THOUSAND. DOLLARS.
This reminds me of the time at my Young Adults Group at the church when Dave asked us to share with the people at our table what item in our home has the most value. Is it sad that it is my sisters medical textbook? I'm a grown woman and I own nothing of value... yet.... except for two ridiculously overpriced pieces of paper hanging on my wall. And even then, I won't officially own them until the end of June (woot woot!)
So, just a heads up, if you cant find me at my regular jobs next fall, look for me at an auction. I'll be the one talking really fast.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
This one time, someone I know was clipping her toenails in the living room and putting the clipped nails into a pop can.
Then later, this other person I know came into the room, said "oh! My pop! I forgot about that!" and took a swig of pop before person 1 could stop her.
And then she pulled a massive big-toe-toenail out of her mouth.
I dare you to tell me that you didn't laugh out loud at that.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
And you know what I got for it?
It was very rewarding.
Let me tell you my thoughts on donating blood.
a. You should do it.
b. 1 hour of your life can save up to four lives.
c. It's in you to give.
d. If you are healthy and don't play with monkey pee, you can donate.
e. It's very rewarding. Like today I got a sticker, and the first time you donate you get a special sticker and after 10, 15, 20, 25 etc times donating you get a tacky pin!
f. You always get free juice and cookies. So I mean, combine that with the stickers, the 30 minute nap while they suck your blood out and it's pretty much like going back to kindergarten. (Not that they suck your blood out in kindergarten - well maybe in the public school they do, but not at my Christian school - reason 87 to enroll your child(ren) in quality Christian Education)
It's really great. In the past ten years I've probably donated between 20 and 25 times, which means that I have possibly saved 100 lives!!! That pretty much makes me a hero. If any of you have ties with the Governor General, you should throw my name out there for some sort of award or something.
I know I've been really positive about donating blood and I feel like I need to be honest about a few things. Sometimes you have to wait a really long time to get through all the stations and line-ups. And sometimes the questions they ask are awkward, repetitive and strange (i.e. handling monkey pee. First of all, ew, who does that? And secondly, whaaaaat?) And truth be told it does hurt, but just a little bit. It's totally worth it.
Today after answering the awkward questions and finally making it to my elevated chaise lawn chair, I sat down with a sigh ready for my blood to be taken. About half the time I attempt to donate I get turned down (stupid pet monkey!), because my iron is too low or there's a stamp in my passport that automatically contaminates my blood. So I was pretty pleased that I made it today. Especially since usually the few days before donating I bulk up on steak and green beans but I only had one days notice this time.
I think I knew there was going to be a problem when the nurse was not only making faces while she put in the needle, but took forever and was sucking air in between her teeth and making grunting and groaning noises.
My blood would not. come. out. I told my nurse that in college we used to race to see whose blood would fill the bag and she gave me the "uh huhhhh and that's why it's taking us 40 minuts to get a unit of blood? Sure you did." Then she'd give a sweet smile to the lady across from me who lost a unit of blood in six minutes. SIX!
So my nurse tried wiggling the needle around and would ask gently, "is that ok? That doesn't hurt does it?"
To which I would reply, "nope, it's fine."
But I would really be thinking, "What do you think? There is a needle in. my. arm. Of course it hurts you nitwit."
Then she'd push it up a bit more and rotate my arm, sweetly asking, "you're fine right? Doesn't hurt eh?"
And I'd say, "naw, it's all right."
But would be thinking, "Uh... woman? What do you think you are doing? drawing me a bubble bath? Giving me a massage? Feeding me fresh marshmallows? There is a large, sharp, foreign item penetrating my vein. Of course that hurts!"
And the funny thing is, is that my blood was so attached to me (because let's face it, why wouldn't you be?), that my nurse actually gave up on me and took the needle out before the bag was full. She said it was 'full enough.' I don't know about you, but if I ever need a unit of blood, I want a full unit of blood. Not an almost full unit of blood. Whatever. I guess I saved a baby today.