Why do I like it so much?

I love this song. To the point that it gives me shiveries and goosebumps. It's the high voice he goes into. It's gotta be.

Ladies and gentlemen: Mika and Grace Kelly.



PS- This is not the exact version of the song that I fell in love with... but I'm still in love.

OOoo that sucks...

I guess even the ones that are seemingly perfect..... aren't.



(This is a clip from last night's Miss Universe Beauty Pageant).

She still finished in the top 5. I guess that means there's still hope for the not-always-the-most-coordinated girls of the world (other girls- not me. I'm pretty coordinated).

A tribute to Zabu...

ON HIS BIRTHDAY!

I'll give you a little taste of the talent, handsomness, fun and quirkiness that is our friend Zab:








I think he comes by his quirkiness honestly. This is a garbage can from his homeland :

Zab & Lowell went to India & Kuwait last summer, and this garbage can screamed, "take my picture! (and then post me on the internet)"

Happy birthday Zabu Mafu.
Sorry about taking your roommate away in a couple months!

Highly Amusing

Mcjob: noun; an unstimulating, low-wage job with few benefits, esp. in a service industry.

McDonald's is petitioning to get the definition of 'mcjob' legally changed because the definition "is out of date, out of touch with reality and most importantly it is insulting to those talented, committed, hard-working people who serve the public every day."

PS- this is the first picture that came up when I searched for a little illustration for you all, and it is labeled "New McDonald's ad". Is McDonald's really that bad?

Seven Random Facts

I'm it! Angella tagged me.

Here are the rules… Each person tagged gives 7 random facts about themselves. Those tagged need to write in their blogs the 7 facts, as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven others and list their names on your blog. You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and to read your blog.

I could probably post 77 random facts, but I narrowed it down to 7. Here they are:

1. I pierced my own ears… 5 times. I went to the basement and started by putting ice cubes against my ears to numb them. I soon got impatient with this, so I tried jabbing a pin in my ear, then putting the earring through. The pin did nothing, so I ended up jabbing earrings directly in my ears.

I did this when I was at the tender age of 14, and I thought that pretty piercings might make up for acne.

I was wrong, and they didn’t last long.

2. My original name is Marjorie.

3. I love crossing my big toe over its neighbour toe. I find it extremely comfortable. I’ve even caught myself doing this during runs. No wonder those dang bunions came back…

4. I read Old Fashioned Christian Romance Novels.

Exclusively.

I looooove this series by Janette Oake. So classic.

Oh wait, sometimes I’ll read contemporary Christian Romance novels, but you just need more of an imagination for such things. For example, when they say, “She looked beautiful with purple pleated, tapered, high-waisted denim pants and a Mickey Mouse sweater that hung to her knees…” (I actually read something very close to that once), you have to imagine that she actually DID look beautiful and not completely ridiculous.

5. My geography skills are somewhat lacking. I just found out a couple years ago (while in University) that Alaska was part of North America. And Hawaii. That’s an Island? I’m sure I knew that.

6. Lowell and I have known each other for about 5.5 years and I can count on both of my hands the number of times I’ve shaved my legs in that time.

Folks, the hair is blonde and sparse, and the razor goes into hibernation for the winter….and for every other season. I’ve been going 6 months to a year without shaving my legs because you can’t even tell it’s there (unless the sun hits it at just the wrong angle, then it’s slightly awkward). I just shaved a couple weeks ago for the first time in 7 months. Last year when Lowell and I did the triathlon, I was the only person there (including guys) not shaved from head to toe. I thought I’d do it up right for this one, and it was a momentous occasion. Lowell and I may have even documented it. (is this inappropriate?!)

BEFORE:

Note the bunion as mentioned in #3

DURING:

STILL DURING (and slightly disturbing...):

AFTER (I bled b/c I'm not used to shaving):

(PS- I was wearing a bathing suit during this documenting)

7. Carlynne and I were paper carriers of the month in Lethbridge… while we were in University. I’m sure some grade 5 kids were really ticked off at us!

This is the real thing that was in the newspaper on that very memorable day my life.

I've never done this tagging thing before... will I be shunned by the blogging world if I don't tag 7 people? Marc & Kylie, Shareen, and Allison.

Edited to add: I'm such a doink. ELIZABETH & SHELLEY! Those would be the OBVIOUS people to tag. Okay girls...consider yourselves tagged.

My Brother's Shorn Locks

My brother is just a regular David Beckham.


Shaved head: like brother like Beckham. Now all Marc needs are tattoos up the wazoo and for Kylie (his wife) to become a Spice Girl. Perhaps Curly Spice? (Oh, and he'd need to play pro soccer and have money oozing our of every facet of his body)…

I guess the comparison ends with the buzzed locks.

Perhaps he could better be compared to Dr. Evil. The buzzed head, the dorky (i.e., evil) expression, and the fact that he’s a “Doctor”. Sorry to say, Marco, I think you have more in common with Dr. Evil!

Bridal Bouquet Toss Farewell

Shucky darn it all. In less than 75 days I will no longer be eligible to participate in bridal bouquet tosses. I will never be able to feed my *cough* obsession with winning them.

Actually, I should clarify: I don't have an obsession with winning per se, I more have an obsession with not losing. So, every time I go up, I try. And every time I try, I win (I have a strategy).

This has come back to kick me in the butt on a couple of occasions. The first time it really backfired was when I may or may not have accidentally ripped the bouquet out of a handicapped individual’s hands. (I didn’t realize she was handicapped at the time). I did this much to the embarrassment of my family, but was told later by others that it was okay because everyone always let her win. We'll pretend that made me feel less like a complete dork.

I then had to dance with the dude that caught the garter and this was a very scarring experience. I swear he had just smoked 3 packs of cigarettes and chugalugged a barrel of alcohol because he smelled revolting. He was laughing with his buddies as I attempted to dance with him (he was in his late 20s and I was like 15) and I felt like his breath shot straight down my throat. Um, ew. We were supposed to do the polka, but of course that CD was scratched and kept skipping, so they put in a dirty dancing CD. Um…I don’t think so. I left the dance floor in a hurry.

You’d think this experience would’ve deterred me from further violent bouquet catching experiences, but apparently it just made me more determined. I kept going strong, and I have several bouquets to my name. So many, in fact, that it has become a significant cause of shame for my family (my Mom, in particular). The shame results not just because I win, but because when I’m in this sort of a competitive situation, I completely let loose and lose all control over my vocal folds as well as my limbs. I don’t think twice about lunging myself and tackling any competitor whilst my limbs flail about as though independent from my body. At weddings, my Mom now approaches me and specifically asks me not to catch the bouquet. Since I can’t go up and not try (and therefore win), I haven’t been going up at all. I guess I've retired a little early. So let this be my official farewell to bridal bouquet toss eligibility. *sniff sniff*

This is me post-lunge at Jill & Randy's wedding a few years ago. (I'm the hippie looking one with the bouquet).

Splash, Pedal and Gasp (Mother's Day 2007)

Today, on MOTHER'S day (which was cold and wet), Lowell and I did a triathlon....with MOMMY! It was her first triathlon ever and she did smokin!

Results:
Julie: 1st in category; 1st overall (for females in my distance)
Lowell: 2nd in category; 4th overall (for males in his distance)
Mom: 1st in her category. WAHOOOOOOOGA!!!!!

Now I will tell you the story of the day mostly using pictures:

Lowell, Mom and I setting up our transition zones bright and early.


The G girls and soon-to-be G boy pre-race. This is when the nerves go bonkers and you need to make a trip to the bathroom every 2 seconds. L to R: Me, cousin Margriet, Mom, & Lowell.


Here's the first event: the swim. Mom is the top right young lady, and Lowell is the dude on the bottom with the white swim cap.


Here's my Mom getting ready to go for the bike ride in the cool weather and rain.


Ready to go...


And she's off! (She's saying, "My seat is slipping down!" & immediately after this picture was taken, she dismounted and adjusted her seat.)


Lowell and I just finished the bike and are ready for the run. Did our legs feel like jelly? Yep. Were our feet so sopping wet and numb that we couldn't feel them? Yessiree. Did we still have some gas left in the tank? You betcha!


Here's Mom ready to cross the finish line. WAHOOOOOOOO!


Here we are post - race.


And here we are post-race with the cuz.


Lowell getting his medal:


MOM GETTING HER MEDAL!!!


Me getting my 'first overall' prize (a killer back pack).


Here we are showing off our medals.


We had to do a shot like this showing off the permanent marker on our arms (clearly this is one of the perks of participating in such a race)!


Here's my Mama and our proud Papa who was also our diligent photographer.


And last but certainly not least: here we are relaxin in the hot tub.


And the best part is: We're DONE! And Mom did amazing and we're so very proud. Happy Mother's Day Mommio!

Joyeux Anniversaire Tessiekins!

Today would be Tessie’s 15th birthday. She was a German Shepherd/Collie cross that our family got when Carlynne and I were in grade 5. We weren’t looking for a dog for ourselves, but we were looking for our grandparents. They lived on a farm in Saskatchewan and were in the market for a dog, so we said we’d keep an eye out. They really liked golden retrievers, so we called the Humane Society and asked them to let us know if they got any in. When Grandma and Grandpa were visiting, we got a call, so we headed to the Humane Society. The girl who called actually made a mistake. She thought Tessie looked like she had golden retriever in her, when really she didn’t. Oops. Best mistake she could ever make! Grandma and Grandpa fell in love with her right away, so we brought her home with the intention of driving her to the farm next time we visited.

That never happened.

As soon as Grandma saw us with Tess, she knew she’d only ever see Tessie on the farm for visits. Us kids fell for her hard and fast. She was such a beautiful dog and so much fun! She loved snuggling up on chairs/couches/beds...

...she would do tricks for a blade of grass (SO cute), she loved laying on the living room floor with her head resting on the windowsill as she watched what was going on outside...


...she heard our school bus come from blocks away and would race around the house in anticipation of us coming home, she always had a thing with tall men and barked incessantly at them, she LOVED joining Carlynne and I on our paper route (for all of the 10 years!), her tail never stopped wagging, she looked so cute snuggled in her dog house...

...she let me cry against her neck many times, she would lick away my tears, she loved peanut butter, she drank out of the toilet (when it was clean)...


...she hated lightening, she saved our house from being burned down, she wasn’t a fan of baths, she was so patient with kids, she was super cooperative, she had her hyper moments and her calm moments, every year she would shed like crazy on a random schedule, she looked SO cute when wet...

...she would knock (perhaps it was more of a scratch) on the basement window when she wanted to come inside...


...and she was generally an incredibly awesome dog.

We had to put her down last August because her age was catching up with her. This was VERY hard, but at the same time, we were happy that she was no longer in pain.

She was my Buddy and my Boo-Boo and I miss her!!!!!!!

The nose ring that was no more

My (former) nosering. *sigh*

In grade 12 I got my nose pierced (with the blessing of both my parents of course). It was fine-o dine-o until randomly about 4 years later, nasty infections started flaring up. Even after switching to gold noserings, things still weren’t great. Now in the last couple years, I’ve had a darker ring around the stud which very much resembles that of a scar. Grrrr. In February I decided to take the plunge and ask a dermatologist what could be done about such scarring. His response to me was, “That’s not scarring.”

Oh? Well, then what pray tell is it?

“It’s tattooing. The nickel from your jewelry bled into your skin and tattooed it.”

Great. So I have a tattoo on my nose? What can be done about that? Well, apparently, none other than… laser tattoo removal.

Dermatologist says, “Do you want to do your first session right now?”

Uh… I didn’t really have a chance to think about it because I knew that if I didn’t go right then, and later I decided I wanted to do it, I’d have to wait 17 years to get in again. So I did it. I had laser treatment #1. That was quite possibly the most painful 10 seconds of my young life.

He said I could’ve put a nose ring back in after 10 days, but it would have to be at least 18 karat gold. By 10 days, the inside of my nose was grown in, I didn’t want to pay for yet another nose ring, and I didn’t want to flirt with potential narshty scarring issues.

So, I had taken my nose ring out for the last time. *sniff sniff* I didn’t even get to say good bye!

What followed the laser session was a little treat: A big pussy pimple-like horrifying lump of grossness. And it was like that for a week (and this was my first week of my hospital placement). I apologized to my supervisor for the disgusting state of my nose. I said, “Sorry my nose is so disgusting, it’s just…” That’s as far as I got before she interrupted and said, “It’s just a pimple with puss coming out of it.” She said it as though it wasn’t gross or repulsive at all—maybe even a little attractive. I immediately defended my precious nose, “No it’s NOT a pimple with puss coming out of it!” And straightened her out ASAP. At the end of the week, I said that I hoped my nose didn’t look so disgusting on Monday, and to this she replied, “It doesn’t look disgusting. It just looks like a pimple with puss coming out of it!”

Um, and THAT’S not gross? SICK! (But I appreciated her support:)

Post first treatment (and this is toned down!)


A few weeks post second treatment.

So, a part of my identity is now gone. I just had my 3rd and hopefully last laser treatment. My nose looks better, but nowhere near great. I'm really hoping time will do its magically healing thing!

PS

I know I posted like 2 seconds ago, but...

My brother is pretty much amazing. If you haven't read his blog lately (i.e. today), do so now.

I miss these two. A lot. And I really wish they could come to our wedding, but they're committed to their wonderful work in Kenya (which I'm super proud of)... but it still makes me sad. *sigh*

Over and out.

Rain rain go away!

Well, now the rain is gone, but it was sure there in all it's incredibly soppy splendor on Friday!

This weekend my Mom had a Ladies Retreat at our house, so my Dad and I got the boot. We took the opportunity to go to Edmonton to check up on Carlynne and the boys (Lowell and Dan). The trip there was a wet mess, but that was nothing compared to the disaster in Carlynne's yard. It was a lake. Literally. A ridiculously wet lake.





The first evening that we were there, we had a nice sup sup with Carlynne, Dan, Marc, Tara, Dad, Lowell, and I. After that we had planned on going out for lattes and dessert, but plans were altered a tad when Tara went to her room downstairs and noticed the giant puddle of water pooling on her floor. Great. So my Dad promptly went outside to dig a trench to help the water flow away from the house. So intent was he on this work, he passed on the latte and dessert. We tried our darndest to convince Dad to come, but he insisted on finishing the job. That's my Daddio!

So we had fun without Dad *sniff sniff*.

Note the coordinating (and not to mention stylish) rain jackets.

The trench did help...a little. But there was just too much water! (P.S. The pictures above of the lake were even taken post trench and after the rain had stopped). In the morning it was even more ridiculous, so Dad went out and bought and shop vac and rented a thingermabob to put in the yard, attach a hose to, and spit the water out on the road where there are drains. This worked well... but the water came back with a vengeance.


Irritating, yes. Then on Saturday, Dad used his detective skills to figure out the source of all this water since it had stopped raining. He discovered that the neighbour lady had her sump pump spewing the water from her yard directly into ours. WHAT?! Well, that explains things a little better.

So Dad and Carlynne had a little chat with her, and I think that situation is cleared up.

We still had time for fun even though the water situation stole hours from our lives that we'll never get back. On Sunday we went to the Gleddie's farm (my Aunt & Uncle). They have a sheep ranch and it's lambing season, so we got to hold and bottle-feed a cute little lamb. After treating Dan's nose like a nipple, Stacey (our cousin/tour guide) handed over the bottle.

Having an intense conversation, no doubt, over lunch. :)

Farmer Carlynne.

Stacey!

Dan's nose = a nipple

And here we are at Carlynne's place just before heading back South...

*Note Dad's incredible exhaustion after working his buns off on his entire weekend off. What a Dad!