Can't Buy Me Love (And Happy Mother's Day!!)

It's been a good nine hours since the words were uttered, but I am still appalled. Today I attended a conference with prominent speakers from the Canadian business world. They discussed integrity, passion, motivation, self confidence. The things that would make you a great entrepreneur. My intention of attending was to gain some insights into networking. A little study I'm doing. Understanding the nuances of relationship building, of networking, of remembering things about a gazillion people. You know the stuff I'm talking about.

It seemed like a good place to be. These people in the room were network hungry. And apparently, many of them were money hungry. I understand that the point of the business world is to generate money, to get a little green in your pocket to make your life a little easier. I know there are people out there who think money really makes the world go 'round and that money makes you a better person. I just didn't expect to hear one of the presenters say that. That's right, SAY THAT. Not insinuate that. He actually said that having wealth made him a better parent.

Excuse me!?!?!?!?

It was the most ignorant, asinine, self inflated thing I have ever heard someone say. To over two thousand people in an audience. I mean, yes, I agree that having money can alleviate certain hard situations and open the door of some opportunity. But make you a better parent? I don't think so. Life is what you make it, with or without money. Would I say that if my mother had been rich she'd have been a better mother? Of course not. I think the fact that she experienced hardships and struggled made her a strong woman who set an excellent example of integrity for her children.

Money shmoney. What does he know? I bet his mother didn't raise him to think that. Mine certainly didn't. The audacity to actually say that money makes you a better person. Pfft.

Mom, I think you are a better parent for not having money. Thank you for instilling good morals into my being!

Rise and Shine!

I nearly spit out my cereal this morning when my grandma talked about my brother at my sister's baby shower they day before...

Grandma: "Oh Mike had a nice time. He enjoys things like that doesn't he?"

Me: "Yeah, Mike likes a good crowd."

Grandma: "But he kept asking me if I was ok. Ugh, he wouldn't stop 'Are you ok? Are you ok?' He wouldn't leave me alone!" (Said with a face of annoyance)

Me ~ waving my spoon in front of me, biting my tongue, and putting my spoon back in my bowl of cereal.

Grandpa ~ sees me struggling to keep the explosion of WFT inside of me

Me: (thoughts properly gathered) "Ha ha Grandma, maybe he's just getting you back for when you keep asking him if he's ok!!"

Grandma ~ not impressed.

Grandpa ~ laughing quietly at the end of the table....

Everything I need to know…I didn't learn in Kindergarten

I’m 28. Soon to be 29. What I am about admit to you, you would not expect to hear from someone my age. If a 12 year old girl told you this, I think you’d shrug it off. But this…this is, completely and utterly nonsensical.

This past weekend, my little three year old niece Olivia came up for a visit. After supper time, she and I went on a hunt for the missing flashlight (ahem, the flashlight that I had hid in the cupboard before dinner because she was flashing it in everyone’s eyes…shhhh). We went upstairs and looked in every room. When we got to my room, I sat down, and she looked at all my stuff. I showed her my stuffed animals (yes, I still have some on my bed), and then I picked up this lovely fluffy dog and asked her if she would like to sleep with it.

She said yes.

My heart began to race and my hands started to shake.

Inside my head there was this panicked voice screaming at me ARE YOU CRAZY!?!?! YOU’RE GIVING YOUR TOY TO HER!?!??! I then answered the voice and told myself I was silly. She’s my niece who I love love love to pieces, and this dog was only a toy.

But still. I couldn’t believe I had even offered this.

So what did I do? Well…I gingerly took back my stuffed animal, hugged him, and promptly put him back on my bed where he belongs and shooed Olivia out of the room.

Phew, this explosive sharing situation was avoided!!

Bend this!!

Bah!!! Just found an article on msn sympatico that reads Beckham will likely not be playing at the TO-LA game this coming weekend due to his ankle injury.

Not to say that the only reason I want to go the game is to see the beautiful Beckham, but really. Soccer really is one of the only sports I like. So yes, I am happily--and willingly--going to a match. Which I am paying too much for. I'm not an advocate of paying insane amounts of money to see sporting events, concerts, what have you.... But when my sister rang up and asked if I wanted to go with her and Brian, I said yes.

Reason number One: My brother-in-law Brian loves soccer more than what is normal. It has become something we bond over since I started playing and watching soccer on tv. So it would be great to actually do something with them outside of a pub or a family function.

Reason number Two: TO SEE DAVID BECKHAM!!!!!!!!!!!! Hehehehe...not just for his fine looks, but I think it would be pretty cool to see one of soccer's great men in action. Who knows if I'll get the chance again. And who knows if I'll ever agree to pay that much money to watch a game again!

Poor David. Fair enough to step aside with an ankle injury. I've been skipping out of my soccer practises and last game because I fell down the stairs at work and mucked up my shins. Cause you know, that's the same. My swollen and bruised shin prevents me from rec league where I pay to play, versus his ankle injury prevents him from playing a game he's being paid millions to play. That's totally the same.

Keeping my fingers crossed his ankle is better by Sunday.

Presents for who?

This coming weekend is my soon to be sister-in-law's wedding shower. I've already picked up their gift--some swank 460 threat count sheets (hello, they will be sleeping on heaven, it was hard not to buy any for myself), extra pillowcases in a different shade, and a throw that matches the extra cases. All done up pretty in a linen basket. Done and done, perfect present I say.

But here is my dilemma. I know it's a celebration of Mike and Jen. But do I buy Olivia a present too?? I mean, how is sweet little Olivia going to feel watching her mommy open present after present and know that not one of those is for her?? Blenders and babies, not a good mix. Negligees and babies, not a--oh wait, that is how the baby got there in the first place.

So while I know that I can buy little Livvy a present any time I want, would I be a bit much to shower her with gifts at her mom's shower?? I just might have to.

Then again, she might be satisfied with the ribbons and bows from all the presents. Maybe I'll just get an extra fancy bow and give that to her.....

Huntin' Season

Buck n' Doe Season is midway through. And I haven't really been to all that many of them yet this year. Which is a shame, because really, throwing a few dollars towards someone's wedding instead of lining the pocket of a bar owner isn't all that bad of thing to do.

And those Bucks usually have at least one fine looking friend or family member who has come out to show support too. Another reason why it's a shame to miss out on them, haha!!

Last weekend I was in Walkerton, and my friends and I went out to a Buck n' Doe, held at the Knights of Columbus centre. And you know that musty smell you often associate with old folks?? Well, that is how it smelled. Kinda gross. Just made us drink up faster so our olfactory senses would be lessened.

But in all sincerity, it was a great time. Lots of room to sit around and chat with friends, lots of room on the dance floor to bust a move, and never ending bowls of popcorn~and not the microwave kind, SmartFood popcorn!! And of course, relatively cheap drinks. I didn't win any of the door prizes and such, but I didn't know the couple, so really, I would feel bad for taking a prize.

My brother and Jen have set their buck n' doe (or as they call it, their Stag n' Doe) for August. Should be a good time. I don't really know what kinds of games and prizes they have organized for it yet, but I'm in the midst of convincing them to have a Rock-Paper-Scissor tournament, and call it the Five Knuckle Shuffle!! Haha!! I hope they do it!

I took this picture of them this past weekend, and I am also trying to convince them to use it for the Buck n' Doe. It's so sweet. This is probably the only time my brother will don a cowboy hat, even if it is only a straw one.

My brother says that his buck n' doe will be so great, that from now on, they will be called Mike n' Jens.....hahaha, we'll see!!

When Doors Open

Last week, my grandfather had a stroke. He's doing quite well now--back at home, shuffling around the house as he usually does. My grandmother was quite upset, as to be expected. She kept telling me the story of how she and my grandfather met. Though I've heard it dozens of times, I always like to hear it again. Stories from my grandmother's life in Scotland are rarely heard. She mostly tells about life after meeting my grandfather and moving to England to be with him. Every now and then, a secret comes out that just breaks my heart.

This weekend, she told me about how her father died. I had always assumed he had lived a ripe life, and died of natural causes. He lived long enough that he reached an age to have 12 children, and to be receiving a pension of sort from the government. His cheque had come in the mail, and he left the house to go to the bank to cash it. The milkman had just delivered the milk, and he offered my great-grandfather a drive down the road. He gratefully accepted the ride. As they were coming around a bend, a delivery truck of bottles was headed towards them, and it lost control. In an attempt to avoid the collision, the milkman spun the steering wheel away from the delivery truck. In doing so, the passenger side of the truck was hit, and the crates of bottles crashed down, directly on my great-grandfather. My grandma skipped the story to her and her sisters arriving home to find bloody clothes on the floor, and my great-grandmother crying. Either before they got home, or after, the milkman came to the front door, and said to my great-grandmother that she had better get to the hospital. My grandma didn't say if he has passed away before any of them could see him or not.

I am always amazed at the life that my grandma had. The hardships that she struggled through, and how she put it all behind her and kept moving forward. I think that if I ended up being like her, it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Sweet Auntie!!

Olivia Elizabeth Lynn was born on October 5th, 2005. At first, I thought, so what....it's just a baby. No big deal. Why is everyone making such a big deal?

Now I beg to differ....such a big deal, and I am going to gush about this kid. She is the first baby to be had by any of my siblings. My brother beat my sister to the line, but made up for it by asking her and her husband to be the God parents. She was delighted to say yes. So now I get to have the role of favourite aunt. Well, I can try for it anyways. And this is how I intend to do so...

1. I will teach her the meaning of humour and wit. I have begun this already by teaching her to say "redrum" in a scratchy voice and to wiggle her index finger. While she is just learning to talk right now, I feel that in no time, she will grasp this act. My brother and Jen are getting married in September, and my goal is to have her say this to the wedding guests. The good news is that my mother finds this funny. The bad news is that it creeps out Jen. (Mission accomplished then.) I am also teaching her the use of 'Spirit Fingers', and will one day watch Bring it On with her.

3. Ok. I am at a loss of what else I will specifically do, other than bestow her with copious amounts of love. When she is eating Cheese Nips and offers one to me, regardless that she just put it in her own mouth and dropped it on the floor, I will accept it with smiles and gratitude. (Then gingerly put it behind me so she doesn't see that I haven't eaten it).

And when the time comes, I'll introduce her to the good beer, not that crap her parents drink. Hehehee.....

All Hail the Queen

Canada's favourite long weekend is fast approaching.

Ok, I don't really know if it's Canada's favourite long weekend, but it's the first long weekend of the summer, so maybe it should be!! It is a time that we spend with our family and friends, where we act all crazy as if summer has actually arrived.


We head out to camping sites, pitch tents, set up coolers, perhaps fish. Some of us are foolish enough to think that the lake will be warm enough to swim in, and take a dive, only to quickly find out that is not so. But they all say it was a refreshing dip in the lake~I don't believe them. I've tried the May 2-4 camping on several occasions. If you knew me, you would know I love a good camping weekend. But I don't enjoy freezing off my butt. So this kid would rather stay in town, and hit the patios to enjoy my beer :)


As a side note, I would like express the following confusion....I just googled images for "camping" and so many nudie pics came up!!! Why do naked people and camping fall under the same category???? Aahhhh....they must be the folks who have jumped in the lake, came out all freezing, and in the process of changing out of their swimsuits (assuming they were not skinny dipping) to their sweatsuits, their prankster friends must have taken a pic. Yes, I am sure that is the situation. Otherwise Google has a situation on their hands. I just saw too much T&A for 10:30 on a Monday morning....


I don't really have any solid plans yet for this long weekend. Other than having to take a trip to Grandma's~as her birthday is this weekend. Ahhhh....she and the queen have so much in common, hahaha!! Besides that festive moment, I have a potential plan of going to Molly Bloom's. And I'm not sure what my dear roomie is up to. I would like to have a BBQ in the

backyard and kick back a few beers with my landlords though. And I'm sure there will be some fireworks to enjoy Monday night at a nearby park. Can't pass the May 2-4 weekend without fireworks (and screaming kids, and barking dogs, and high teenagers...)

I will revel with the rest of the nation in the bliss of a 3 day weekend, and look forward to the impending summer season, when camping is more reasonable.

And on the 7th day....there was still one more left

I have always known that I am the kind of person who draws from my "well of energy" by being alone~I crave time alone, where I come out rejuvenated and ready to keep moving forward. These past eight days with my mom, where I barely could take a pee by myself, have been a bit of a strain for me. And I felt like such a jerk, because I could feel my temper rising, my annoyance increasing. I had to bit my tongue sooooooooo many times...a few times I didn't....I'm a bad daughter.

Utter irony is that I've been noticing that the qualities that I don't like about myself, have come straight from my mother. I feel at the stage I am at now, I am not too annoying, and have the ability to curb them from getting worse. She, on the other hand, seems to have these qualities magnified over the years. For example, I have a bad habit of repeating myself, I am forgetful of what I tell people, and get excited when I think I have something new to say. Turns out, it's usually not news to them. My mother will tell me the same thing numerous times over a non-specific period of time. On the drive home, for example, she told me the same sentence 7 times in the span of a couple hours. Yes, I will acknowledge that she was incredibly tired, and was likely telling me this for the sake of talking. But still....I already know mom, stop talking. Hmmm....I don't think I want to list off the things I find annoying about myself, and even more so of my mother. After all, she might come to bloggerland one day and read this (eek!!!!).

So let me sum up the trip. We stayed at The Domaine Bourget Inn & Spa, in Bourget, Ontario. It is such a quaint, beautiful place out in the country, it really was peaceful and relaxing. Bourget is a small French community about half an hour outside of Ottawa (Who know it was French...imagine our suprise....!) My mother has a different idea of experiencing a city than I do. Her idea is shopping. And while I love shopping, it is something that I can do at home, anytime I want. And it's not even like we went shopping downtown in boutiques, or in markets. No, we hit up the outlet stores. Yes, I found a coolio purse from Winners (hehehe....you should have heard the debate in my head--do I buy the amazing pink puma's or the awsome matt & nat purse....), and yes, I scored at La Senza with a free sports bra, it just wouldn't have been my first choice.

Thankfully, we took a day and went all the way into Ottawa (all shopping was in the suburbs), and went to the Canadian Museum of Civilization. It is one of my favourite museums, and I was delighted to share it with my mom, as she had never been there. Very cool. We spent a day and got facials at the spa (very relaxing), drank wine and enjoyed the ambiance. We spent a day and drove to Montreal, where we (suprise) spent the day shopping in the Eaton Centre (where it would have been cool to buy the matt & nat purse, but alas, Winners it was in Cornwall). We had intended on visiting a specific church, but time went too fast and we had to leave. So now I have pictures of buildings in Montreal taken from the drivers seat while sitting at red lights. So spectacular.

But don't get me wrong, I had a great time! We got a lot of work accomplished (the intent of the trip was to work on the development of the business we are starting!), and spent good mother-daughter time together. However, I think that if we arrange to take a trip again together, it should either not be for as long, or I need to take a day in the middle of it to do my own thing. That way, I won't be tempted to strangle her.

Donkey, shut up!

On the road again, On the road again

Just can't wait to get on the road again

The life I love is makin' music with my friends

And I can't wait to get on the road again

In just over 24 hours, my mom and I are taking roadtrip to Ottawa. One full week of Melissa and mom time. While I think back to trips of my youth (cause I'm old now???) that we used to go on, I seem to recall my patience for my mother was a lot better. I also seem to recall that she did not repeat herself us much, nor was she so vocal of the things that bother her. Yikes, is this a good idea?? Oh my god, she was not like my Grandmother...

If I never post another blog again, you'll know that I went crazy and was sent to the loony bin.

Please keep your fingers crossed for me.

Sorry, what tradition is that?

With Easter just around the corner, I am faced yet again with the facts that A) I am the only single child left in my family, which lead to B) I am the only child in my family who is always available to show up for holiday weekend dinners. And with the smaller turn out, my family has become less concerned with the traditions of the meal and such things that go around it.

While they express the solid point that as long as we are together, it should not matter what we do or eat (hello....holiday dinners without stuffing should be a crime), I still feel gypped. Just because I am the youngest kid, the single kid, I get the shaft! This Easter, my brother and Jen are not joining us for Easter due to the crazy assault on him, they are just laying low. Fair enough. My sister and Brian can not join us because they are working, can't argue that....ok I can, it's called book it off. So what are we doing? My mother, my grandparents and I are all meeting up at the restaurant where my sister and Brian work for an early dinner~so that we can see them. I say, if they can't bother to take the time to come and share in family dinner, I should not have to eat pub grub on Easter Sunday as a consequence!!

This means no delicious homemade pie, no custard, no little Easter eggs around the table. No belated birthday cake for me and my brother. No turkey, no stuffing, no green beans or creamy mashed potatoes. No gravy. I imagine I'll have a club sandwich and fries. Mmmmm. My mouth is watering.

What have I learned from this? That my siblings suck. If I were to call my parents or grandparents and tell them that I was not able to come home for a holiday weekend, they would be mad at me!!! Just because I am single, I am expected to be at their back and call!! Yet Nicole and Mike can get away with it cause they are married....jerks. So now I have learned that I need to be in a committed relationship so that when I dick off and don't attend a family dinner, I'll won't get guilt tripped.

Grrr.....the life of a single girl is not all it's cracked up to be. Damn family holidays.

Two feet and a heartbeat

I have been the owner of compact car for 2 years now. And when I say owner, I mean the driver of a leased vehicle that plays all my favourite cd's. It's new, it's shiny, it's good on gas and it gets me everywhere I need to go.

I can't imagine life without it.

Before life with Roxy--yes, I named my car Roxy....she's a Pontiac Wave, Roxy was a natural name selection--I drove an old clunker, lovingly named Hot Donna. She was a 1993 Chev Cavalier; she was red, she was fast...she was great....I thought she was about to die and carelessly gave her away to the mechanic neighbour who then sold her to some kid up the road who can be seen flying down the back roads to this day. How foolish of me to give away the gem of a car my parents bought for me for $500. Woops. (I could sound spoiled to say 'my parents bought me a car' but really....it was $500, and the original reason for purchase was not for me...just for my dad to mess around with it....and then it all worked out in my favour....so I'm not that spoiled, just lucky.)

Essentially, my entire life of independence, now officially spanning 3 1/4 years, (I count the 'official' time period as being when I finally stopped messing around with having fun and moved out of my parents home for good...my year in Australia was a drinking and laughing binge...doesn't count as real independence since I left Oz early cause I ran out of moolah...) I have had in my possession a car. I have had the freedom that a car provides. It has been great.

My brother and sister, along with their spouses, are all carless. Furthermore, they are all driver's licenceless. Have I mentioned before that I am the youngest in the family? So it's not like they are young and haven't gotten around to it. They all depend on public transport to get around. On the one hand, I must give them props for the benefit to the environment they are providing. Though I know this is not a factor in why they don't drive. But on the other hand, I can't imagine how they survive!! Even the task of grocery shopping seems crazy to me without a car to bring it all home in. I guess that is why they both live in places near amenities. I live in an almost-suburbia area.

Being that I am the only kid with a car, a lot of responsibility and expecation falls on me. It is expected I will drive an hour to pick up my sister and her husband to attend family functions. It is expected that I will drive my brother and his wife and his kid home after family functions, even though he lives two hours from me. Simply because I am nice, I am responsible, I am a good sister, I am dependable.

I didn't know having a car made me dependable.

I guess it does. Should any family crisis occur big or small, I show up in my cute little car to aid my mother in her dire straits. Or any other family member for the matter.

I debate leaving the city where I live to move closer to my family members. Save my mileage--I do lease my car, let's get real. I could move to where my sister lives. But then I realise I would become her instant taxi driver. I can hear the requests now "Can we go shopping? Will you take me to the bank to pay some bills? Will you pick me up after work tomorrow?" This is not a pleasant thought for me. And she never gives me gas money, no matter how many times I ask. (I'm too diplomatic to demand the money....damn). So then I am left with moving more east of where she is, towards where my brother lives. To the midst of the hustle and bustle. It is where I grew up, but I'm not too sure I can handle it now. He would not take advantage of me living nearby (he always give me gas money) and would be delighted should I offer to take him somewhere. I should flip a coin on that one.

Perhaps I can just live out of my car. It might be compact, but it is pretty roomy. And with all my belongings in it, I would have a great excuse to never drive them anywhere: "I haven't any room!! Sorry!"

Or maybe they can all just get their driver's licences and rent vehicles for family functions and leave me alone.

Now that's a novel idea.