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!