Sometimes I say dumb things

Sometimes I say dumb things. My problem is that I personally think I'm hilarious, and I forget that not everyone knows me and has the same opinion. So sometimes I think of things that are really funny, so I say them out loud, and then people give me a weird look because they don't know how truly hilarious I really am.

Like today.
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.

School Supplies

I don't know about you, but not once in my childhood or adulthood did I get "back-to-school-mustard."

Masqurade

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.

Stanley

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 8^th 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.

My Granny

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.

It was hilarious. Granny was laughing and complaining the whole time.

On our way to the stage, she said, “This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me?”

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.

Arts Wells

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.’

1. 10,000 campers + 3 public showers in town = smelly weekend.
2. Dreads are really cool. Double cool if you play the cello or violin.
3. Pee wherever you want. On my front lawn, no problem.
4. Camp wherever you want. The baseball field, the ditch, my back yard, the side of the road, whatever works for you.
5. Dance. All the time.
6. Men can wear flowery silk skirts.
7. Barefeet make you 100% more hippie than the guy beside you wearing sandals.
8. Clowns are the new fad. Forget vampires, it’s all about clowns now.
9. Make music whenever, wherever with whatever you can find.
10. You are never too old to be a hippie. (85 yr old)
11. 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.

I haven't blogged for a while, and I'm always short on time these days, so here is the point form list of the happenings the last little while.

Yesterday I woke up and fox was sitting on the roof of my car.

It snowed last week.

It has rained every day since I got here.

I got told that I was a 'beauDiful prindsess' today by a little girl. That made me feel good.

There is an art/hippie festival going on right now and it is so full of BO, Dreads, random art, music, clowns and hippies. It's such a different culture and I'm actually enjoying observing it.

I had a dream that someone was trying to nuclear bomb Wells and Me and Vin Diesel had to save the town.

Flew to Vancouver last weekend for the Western-Gerrits Family Reunion. Good times.

Found my first ever Geo-Cache with my cousin.

Slept in my car for a night.

Miss my family and bestie.

Still happy and healthy.

:D

I actually AM Dr. Quinn

So...

It happened this week.

I actually became Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman.

It all started the other day while I was at work in Barkerville. I'm all dressed up 1870's style, have excellent Victorian hair that day by the way, lace up boots, the corset, the whole deal. While I'm working I hear a shout outside on the street,
"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.

Long story short, after some calming words, some help up off the ground and away from the approaching stage coach (yes, stage coach), the man and his wife went on their way.

And I realized what I had done, who I had become, and smiled.

Worst Case Scenario

I'm a 'worst-case-scenario' type of person. I constantly am thinking about what the worst possible thing could happen, and how I would react should it actually occurr. Maybe it's all my first aid training or the fact that I'm generally just a responsible person, but my mind always jumps to how I would dal with a terrible situation. Here are some from this week.

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.

Barkerville Day 1

Well I made it north safe and sound.

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.

The Best Clean

I just had the best shower ever. You know, that once a year shower where you are so filthy, dirty, sweaty and smelly that the longest, hottest, soapiest shower ever is necessary to clean the filth off your rotting with dirt-stink carcass.

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.

I'm off for the Summer!

I'll be leaving Kamloops next week to spend my second summer in the Wells/Barkerville/Bowron Lakes region of BC. I love it up there and I can't wait to be in my car driving north, even though it will take me half a day to get there.

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!

28 or 80? I'm not sure.

I recently discovered that I'm actually 80 years old. I may look 28 (or even 14 to some of you - thanks again for regularly mistaking me for a student at the school I teach at), but deep down, I am an old lady. An old, old lady.

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.

Soon and Very Soon

Soon, so very, very soon, school will be done for another year. I'm literally shouting out, "Praise the Lord!"

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!

Dr. Pooh

I saw this truck weeks ago and didn't have my camera on me. It made me laugh SO hard. Then, last week, after searching for nearly 5 weeks, this truck showed up just outside my doorstep.

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.

Awesome!

CatKirk

One time I came home from work and found this in my garden:


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.

Hot Yoga

I like to try new things. I really do. In the last five years I've picked up tennis, snowboarding, violin, manicures, sewing and ceramics. Whenever someone suggests something new, more often than not I'll give it a whirl.

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.

Gross eh?

Or awesome?

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?

No.

No.
Never.
What crazy person thought that creating this was not only a good idea, but an acceptable idea?

Co-Counuts (Go Canucks)

I am a die-hard Canadian. I really am. But when it comes to hockey, I just really don't care. Not as much as I should, and it barely even enters my radar that it exists. Oh I go to one or two games a year, and I'll watch approximately 0.4 minutes of some game, but other than that...

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"

Really?

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.

Amen.

P.S. Lacrosse is our national sport, it should be our identity not some sport whose history begins in ancient Egypt.

Hats.

I really like hats.
A Lot.

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.

EVER.

I don't really have anything funny to say. Life is just life and it's happening and it's good.

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.

Ever.

Ever.

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.

Laughter- it's good for you.

So my sister Vanessa learned something interesting the other day.

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.

Brilliant eh?

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.

Abstract Art

So yesterday I had the opportunity to visit the Kamloops Art Gallery. I'd never been there before, because frankly, I just don't really care about art. Crafts, pictures, scrapbooking, sewing, needlecrafts, those I like. Not so much with the art.

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:



Cheese? Check.
Monkey Butt with a duck foot? Check.
Random Clock? Check.
Patterns? 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.

Always Funny.

I’ve been missing my super awesome sister Bethany a lot lately. We usually spend a lot of time together and the last month we are like ships passing in the night and we never, ever, see each other. I usually work 7:30am-3:00pm, and she works 3:00-9:30pm, and I got to bed at 9pm, and she doesn’t get up till 8am, so we literally never cross paths.

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!

That Must Have Been Embarrassing.

This morning I remembered a time, about a year ago, when I felt really awkward for someone. I felt really awkward, but at the same time I was laughing so hard inside that I could barely wait until I was not in public anymore so that I could loudly - and obnoxiously - laugh out loud.

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.

Tomorrow at 4pm

I just want to tell you all that tomorrow I'm starting to dig out/plan my garden. I am so excited about it and you should be too. Especially since there is brand-spanking new patio set in my car waiting to be put together for my soon-to-be awesome garden oasis in the ghetto. And you are all welcome to come and sit on my patio and enjoy the beautiful garden view that over looks the river.

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

An Original Film.

Currently my Bestie is back in Canada for a brief one week visit. Although I think it's great that she's being all wonderful building homes for people in Tijuana Mexico, a large part of me is very selfish and I want her to stay here.

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.

Deerskin Pants

So one of my favourite things about having this blog is checking the statistics. How many people visit, how they found my blog, what countries people are from etc. But today I want to share with you some statistics that actually have made me laugh out loud about my blog. These are search key-words that people have put into google or yahoo or something and my blog has come up with a result.

The top keyword search that leas to this blog?
deerskin pants.

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!
N

Blue Birds

Think back on your childhood for a moment.

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.

Just saying.

And they better televise that part of the wedding too!

Top Five

You know, it's been one of those weeks. A good week, but a long week. Meetings every. single. night. 12 hours of volunteer work with St. John's Ambulance, family visiting from Ontario, my sister here from Pano(rama), Easter dinner, music lessons, heritage fair. Busy busy busy. A good busy, but busy.

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.

On Behalf of all Females

Tonight I want to complain about something that girls do not complain enough about. We hold it in, we pretend that it doesn't hurt, we may even deny that it happens. But tonight I want to speak up, nay, shout out, on behalf of the majority of women out there.

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.

Awesome

Quite some time ago I had a party. I often have parties, and often (99% of the time), these parties have themes and people have come to expect that. I think my best themed party was when I handed out four different party invitations - all for the same night, all with a different theme. (Under the water, Beach, Masqurade and Disco). It was a mish-mash of awesome random costumes and confusion.

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
5. Sharpies
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?

New Job Opportunities.

Due to my new addiction to "Storage Wars" and "Auction Hunters" I am currently thinking that I'd like to give up teaching and either become an auctioneer, or an auction hunter.

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.

I'm still LOLing

I actually don't have anything super interesting to say today. But I'm figuring if I want people to keep reading my blog I should keep posting things on a regular basis. And so today, a funny story that I didn't witness, but I wish I did.

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.

I saved a life today

So today, around 3pm, I saved a life.

And you know what I got for it?

A sticker.

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.

Bacon Sundae

Bacon makes a classic ice cream sundae even more awesome. We start with maple flavoured syrup and a scoop of rich, creamy vanilla ice cream and then a generous sprinkle of our diced hickory-smoked bacon And another sweet layer of syrup and vanilla ice cream topped with even more bacon and a drizzle of syrup.

Ok. Seriously. I am as Canadian as the next girl. But a Bacon Sunday? Come on! And I didn't see this crazy menu-item on any old menu at a random greasy spoon in the wilds of British Columbia, I saw it at Denny's. DENNY's. The breakfast place.

I don't know, maybe it is a good idea. Ice Cream, gooooood. Syrup, gooooood. Bacon, gooooooood. Bacon sundae, goooooooooooooooooooooood. Maybe it's the sweet-salty that people crave. Maybe Canadians pork producers are trying to expand into the desert market. Or maybe Canadians just straight-up, plain and simple, love bacon. On everything.

Canadians also love gravy on everything. Can we expect a gravy sundae next?

Ew.

If you try the Bacon Sunday will you please give me a reveiw of it. I'd love to hear what you thought about it.

Poo-Pourri

I saw something in the UhMurIca last week and it made me laugh. And it got me thinking about air fresheners. Why do we purchase them? I'd say that majority of girls buy air freshener to make things smell nice. (And while I'm talking about this topic, seriously, Febreese Winter Evening & Warmth is the BEST. SMELL. EVER.)

But then I started thinking about when you go over to other peoples house and you see a spray air freshener in the bathroom - especially when it is in plain site. It grosses me out. You wanna know why it grosses me out? Because it is a visual reminder that the person you are visiting poops. And poops on the toilet you are about to use. Call me crazy, but that is not a pleasant thought.

That is the second reason why you will never see air freshener in my bathroom. The first reason being that girl poop doesn't smell.

I wish I had purchased this product last week when I saw it in Seattle because it is brilliant!

Poo-Pourii

It's a product made from essential oils that you spray in the toilet before... you know... you put 'stuff' in it and it will create a barrier for "embarrassing odors."

Spritz the bowl
before you go
and no one else
will ever know

How To Be Hopelessly Single For The Rest Of Your Life

He offered her the world. She already had her own.

The title of this post sounds so depressing doesn't it?

I want you to click on the link to the right that says 'The Guide to Urban Singledom.'

When this blog was sent to me to pre-read before it's official release date, I fell in love. I love that there is another strong, independent, educated, funny, beautiful, Christian woman out there who lives her life not for her parents, or for what society says 20 something young women have to do, but for herself.

Here is a sampling that I found encouraging. This woman is very like me.

One day in highschool there was a young man at the front of the classroom. He was talking about our hopes and dreams for the future. What we wanted to accomplish and what goals we want to have fulfilled in 10 years time. He went around the classroom asking everyone and all their answers were fairly similar. Graduate. Own a farm and have a family. Get a bachelors degree. Be in school to become a doctor. Get married. Buy a house. YAWN! To me, all of these things sounded very boring and mundane. I couldn't imagine all these people I was going to school with would just suddenly grow up and become the adults that we now tormented. It was at that moment in my life that I decided to do things differently. I would not follow the crowd. I would not run with the herd of lemmings off the edge of the cliff and plummet to a final resting place (into adulthood.) I wanted to create my own path, and find my own direction. I wanted to clear my own way, a way that nobody else has ever gone. I will do things different then my fellow classmates of life.

It's great to be an adult. To get a job, to get married. But Jacci has reinforced for me that it is just as great to NOT do that. She's an encouragement to me. A reminder that perfectly awesome, beautiful, funny, hilarious single women still exist in this world. Not a lot of women mind you, but for now there is Me, Jacci, Tiersa, SB, and Lillian.

P.S. Make sure you watch the video where she washes her dog that was posted on March 16.

years ago playing tourist at the Sloman School on Wheels in my hometown of Clinton, Ontario.

They Made Me Laugh In The Morning!

If you have ever had the honour of sleeping over at my house, or meeting up with me for an early morning adventure or work session, you know that I am not a morning person. At. All. I hate morning so much that I actually take a 2 hour sabbatical from being a Christian each morning so that I can harp, fume, swear and throw things around because I hate morning so much.

Going back to school this week after two glorious weeks of spring break it has been not only difficult, but nearly impossible to get my carcass out of bed. Today I literally felt like I had been run over by a semi. And then backed over. And then a brick wall fell on me. It literally hurt to keep my eyes open until about 11:30 today.

In the morning it is very difficult to get me to listen to what you have to say. But today the people of 97.5 the River, a local radio station here in Kamloops did something that hasn't happened since I can remember. They made me laugh before 7:30 in the morning.

And I'm totally going to steal some of their material to make you laugh.

Today's topic: Dating Websites.

I've had a beef with dating websites for years. I don't know why, I just think they are weird. Deep down I know they are normal and people meet on them, and lah dee dah lovey mclovester they are great. But I just have a .... 'thing'.

Now that I'm pushing 30 and gloriously single people are constantly trying to get me to join one or more dating sites. I've refused up until this point. But with so many dating websites that cater to different groups of people, I've realized that there are many options that might be helpful to me. Help me choose which one you think I should sign up with.

1. Darwin Dating
"Online dating minus ugly people"
People can vote on your profile and if you don't make the cut, the site kicks you off.
I doubt I would last a day.

2. Sugar Daddie
"Where the classy, attractive, and affluent meet"
Check all that apply. Unfortunately for me, 'none-of-the-above' isn't an option.

3. Cougar Women
'nuff said

4. Meet an Inmate
"Can you imagine what it must be like for attractive men and women to be without companionship? These incarcerated female and male inmates are paying a price for crimes they have committed. These inmates are very real and are seeking you!"
Pass.

5. Trek Passions
"Live long and prosper"
Really? That's your pick up line?

6. Diaper Mates
" A forum where people interested in wearing adult-sized diapers or makeshift diapers can search for, share photos with and meet people who have similar interests."
First of all, people do that? Secondly, people admit that they do it and proclaim it online? Thirdly, no thanks.

7. Vampire Passions
"A 100% free online dating & social networking site for vampires and vampire lovers."
Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't vampires fictional? Doesn't it seem like a waste of time to make a dating website for vampires - especially since they don't exist? Call me crazy...

8. STD Match
"Connect with other singles in your area who share your STD"
N/A. AND EW.

There are so many to choose from? How can one possibly decide what website is best for them? For now I think I'll stay away from online dating....

(P.S. I hope you all got a kick out of this post because it took me an hour to write then when I went to post it it hadn't saved so I had to re-do it all because it was such 'gold' I had to share it with you! And that was the worst sentence I have ever written...)

Prank Wars

I'm most likely going to get myself into a heap of trouble for posting about this topic, but I really do appreciate a good prank.

I'm not talking about putting salt in someone's drink,
or even: let's tell her that boy she likes is waiting to meet her in the back parking lot after school
or even the: let's draw on her face with eyeliner when she's sleeping.

I'm talking about GOOD pranks. Ones that take time, energy, planning and finances to do. Pranks that are not harmful or hurtful or stupid - the ones that whether they happen to someone you know, or even to yourself, you can smirk or even laugh at the cleverness of the pranksters.

Take for the time in college when someone stole my toilets.
THAT is a clever prank.

Or the time when someone thoroughly wrapped my car in police tape.

Or even the time when all the lables on the cans in my cuboard were not just cut off, but carefully switched onto different cans. I got so frustrated one day making chili when I kept opening cans of peaches and pears that I actually went to the grocery store to tell them to mention to their suppliers that their labels were wrong. I found out later that soemone had broken into my kitchen and switched the labels. They felt great that I was so stupid. I felt... well... really stupid.

I'm talking about the time when my entire fifth grade class disappeared in the middle of the day.

Pranks like that take time, effort and planning. They are harmless and funny. (Come on - they took my toilet! Brilliant!)

Last night as I was driving the KCS Guatemala team back from the airport in Seattle I was talking with one of the chaperones and a twelfth grade leader and the topic of pranks came up, becuase I played one on a friend last week that was clever, simple and amusing. To everyone. It wasn't my best prank by far, but it was geared to the person it was played on and it hit home in a real way. I've jokingly been disowned as a friend and am, and I quote 'dead to him'. (P.S. JB, I'm specifically writing this post for you because you were whining that I haven't mentiond you on my blog lately. Here's your shout out)

Anyways JB (who I just realized now has the same initials of my boy the Biebster) LOVES his truck. When I say 'loves' I don't mean he really likes it, or is obessed with it, I mean he actually, physically, with his whole entire being, heart, mind, body and soul, LOVES his truck. We are not even allowed to talk about or mention his truck without him getting protective. We've been clearly warned, many times, that to even touch his truck would result in a big brown coiler placed strategically on our pillows. And that's a quote.

I never touched his truck.
But I did put a for sale sign on it. $500 OBO and his phone numbers.

Simple. Clever. Funny.

It was also funny when I heard that my friend played a similar prank on his brother. Only he advertised his brothers truck in the classifides and left specific instructions to call between certain hours - the hours when his brother was sleeping.

When it comes to pranks though, my all time, best prank ever occurred years ago after the excellently planned 'steal dorm 8's toilets (and all their furniture)' episode of the fall of 2002. You know when you prank someone (especially a Gerrits - and FYI they were warned before the prank about me), that retaliation is going to come. Those boys expected retaliation. They were diligent about locking doors and windows and being nice to us. Little did they know, that we were playing it cool. Waiting for the night to come (four months later in the dead of a winter night), when we would strike back.

And strike back hard we did.

We hoarded supplies for months and the night of the dastardly deed we stayed awake till 4am. There were charts, and floor plans, face masks, costumes and if I'm remembering things properly, I'm pretty sure that one member of our dorm was sleeping and we practice-pranked/rehearsed on our own dorm, including the break in.

Here is a non-exhaustive list of what was done in under 4 minutes. (And may I add that they were all sleeping in their beds. When they stole our toilets we were all home for Easter break).

Tipped buckets of water against their bedroom doors
Syrup on all doorhandles and railings
Windows frozen open, thin layer of water on all linoleum floors aka ice rink)
Jello powder mixed into the toilet bowls
And the best, most hilarious thing we ever did do: Filled the cutlery drawer with salt water and a live lobster.

In retrospect we may have gone a little overboard. And they whined like mama's boys for weeks afterwards - it really put a sour note to our friendship that they couldn't handle getting back what they gave out, but you know what? Suck it up princess.

Morals of the story:
a - if you are going to prank someone, make it fun and not harmful.
b - if you are going to prank someone, you will get pranked back.
c - well planned out pranks can be hilarious if played on the right person at the right time.
d - I dominate at prank wars, so don't even cross that line unless you can take it.

How To Be Hopelessly Single For The Rest Of Your Life

He offered her the world. She already had her own.

The title of this post sounds so depressing doesn't it?

I want you to click on the link to the right that says 'The Guide to Urban Singledom.'

When this blog was sent to me to pre-read before it's official release date, I fell in love. I love that there is another strong, independent, educated, funny, beautiful, Christian woman out there who lives her life not for her parents, or for what society says 20 something young women have to do, but for herself.

Here is a sampling that I found encouraging. This woman is very like me.

One day in highschool there was a young man at the front of the classroom. He was talking about our hopes and dreams for the future. What we wanted to accomplish and what goals we want to have fulfilled in 10 years time. He went around the classroom asking everyone and all their answers were fairly similar. Graduate. Own a farm and have a family. Get a bachelors degree. Be in school to become a doctor. Get married. Buy a house. YAWN! To me, all of these things sounded very boring and mundane. I couldn't imagine all these people I was going to school with would just suddenly grow up and become the adults that we now tormented. It was at that moment in my life that I decided to do things differently. I would not follow the crowd. I would not run with the herd of lemmings off the edge of the cliff and plummet to a final resting place (into adulthood.) I wanted to create my own path, and find my own direction. I wanted to clear my own way, a way that nobody else has ever gone. I will do things different then my fellow classmates of life.

It's great to be an adult. To get a job, to get married. But Jacci has reinforced for me that it is just as great to NOT do that. She's an encouragement to me. A reminder that perfectly awesome, beautiful, funny, hilarious single women still exist in this world. Not a lot of women mind you, but for now there is Me, Jacci, Tiersa, SB, and Lillian.

P.S. Make sure you watch the video where she washes her dog that was posted on March 16.

Me and Jacci like 10 years ago playing tourist at the Sloman School on Wheels in my hometown of Clinton, Ontario.

Always Friends

Today's post is a shout-out to my old best friends from Ontario.

It's strange to think that I met them almost 10 years ago, and despite my trampsing around the globe, and my home in beautiful British Columbia, we are still good friends. Friends that laugh, and talk and visit, and pray for each other and send love out across the miles.

I'm so blessed to have these two women in my life, and their husbands too, even though they tend to conveniently disappear whenever I visit so that we can have girl time together. I love that they still think of me and send me funny video's and packages and call me and keep me informed of their life. I'm not gonna lie, I get jealous that they get to see each other all the time, but then I think about how much sweeter our reunions are when we do get to get together.

Here are my top 10 favourite times in our friendship history.

1. the Krispy Kreme Snow Day. When school was cancelled (despite the fact that everyone lived within 200 meters of the school) and yet somehow the school's mission team made the drive from Burlington to Hamilton to deliver all the Krispy Kreme fundraiser doughnuts they had sold. We ate a lot that day. Christy ate more. Ridiculous things ensued. I remember a guitar string being turned into a certain type of hat, our mattresses in the living room, some royal rumbling, some wigs and hats from the drama department, and a few not-so-thought out impersonations of Jacob Moon.
2. Karmyn's wedding.
3. Karmyn's batchelorette party.
4. Meeting up with SB and Jacci last May for the funnest 6 hours of my life. A special thank you to Karmyn's hoarding skills and the fact that she had four years worth of Bod Books.
5. The epic prank on Mark Sinke's dorm. Included in this: staying up all night, hoarding jello for months, the lobster.
6. All the Redeemer banquets.
7. Winning the Hobbies for Hilltop auction - our limo ride and the cornish game hen dinner.
8. Fhwquhwgads, Bannana Hands and Trogdor.
9. When Christy didn't tell me and SB that she was engaged, but conveniently sat in our living room using her left hand for everything for an HOUR until we noticed the ring. And then we had conniption fits.





So this is my suggestion - nay, my challenge to you. Do you have a friend or two that you love? Keep them. Even if it is hard. Even if it is expensive. Even if distance separates you. Even if sometimes your lives are so totally different that it seems you have nothing in common. Persevere in your friendships. I have a group of people who I don't talk to often, but yet still remain my good friends. People I can call whenever, for fun, for help, for advice. It means a lot to me that they are part of my life. It means so much to me that I'm going to share their names on my blog. Because everyone know that to get a shout out on my blog is the highest honour anyone can achieve. Nobel prize? Pffft. Nikki's Blog? Hells yeah!

Dear Karmyn, Christy, SB, Jacci, Steven, Rob J.
I love you.
Thanks for being my always-friends.

Better than Waxing!

Yesterday I learned a valuable lesson:
Just because the calendar says it's spring, doesn't mean you can do spring things.

Let's say for example.... crossing a river. Barefoot. In shorts.

In retrospect, the fact that I could SEE ice chunks floating down the river, probably should have tipped me off that the water was going to be cold.

I just get so excited about ideas and goals. I was determined this spring, to walk over to Rabbit Island - which is an island in the middle of the Thompson River in Kamloops. There is no bridge there, and really there is nothing on it except grass, trees and some wildlife. It's a totally unused and inaccessible island in the middle of the city and in the spring, before the river rises from runoff, the north side of the river recedes probably close to 100m from where it is at high water. The river is so narrow, that at one point it is nearly possible to jump across a little creek (or so I thought) to dry land and then walk to the island.

The 'little' creek, was still a 7m wide chunk of river with a surprisingly swift current. It was however shallow (just above my knees), and on a glorious Sunday afternoon Bethany, Vanessa, our friend Scarlett and I climbed down the embankment, rolled up our pants and waded across what was left of the river.

At first it was like, "oh this water is cold" and then by the time we were stuck in the middle of the current in the river and still had 4 more meters to go, we were screaming "What were we thinking?!?!? This water is stinking cold! My feet. I can't feel them. No I can feel them. They BURN. Should my legs be burning?!?!?!?"

Anyways, we made it over. Explored the island and walked across it to the other side, were slightly disappointed that it really is just a boring chunk of land, and took our time heading back to the north side to walk back through the bitterly cold, ice-chunk carrying, river.

The good news is that I'm pretty sure the hair folicles in my leg are frozen, so I won't have to shave all summer.



The river generally reaches the line of trees you can see in the distance.



See. It's not even a little bit interesting.