My Addiction

Well. I found myself at Chapters again today. I really should not be allowed to go in there. I just can't help it though. Chapters is to me what an opiate dealer is to Keith Richards. Ok, maybe that was mean and a little extreme. But you get the gist. I am a bibliophile. After an hour and a half of browsing and sipping on my Starbucks, I had four books tucked under my arm and a few funny little clearance rack items.

A little too much. I needed to reconsider.

You know those people who wander around a public space in their own little word and act like no one else is around? Well, that can be me. In this moment, it was me. Like a seven year old trying to make a decision, I found a clear space on the floor and laid out all the items in front of me. Crouching down, I put my coffee aside and gently touched each book, each item. As if a simple touch was going to determine it's worth. I picked each one up and read the relevant information.

Sigh. Michael Ondaatje. I adore his writing. Goes in the purchase list.

Ella. Good ol' Ella. I don't own any Ella. 50 songs for $10. Now that's a deal.

Velveteen Rabbit for James. Well, it's an Easter present, so of course I should get it now. I mean, if I don't buy it now, I'll buy him something else later. Might as well be this.

The Glass Castle. I've been itching to read this for months!!

Are you there God? It's me, Margaret. I mean, c'mon. How could I not? It will be a youthful inspiration.

I hummed and hawed with my final decisions. Nothing went back on the shelves.

As I walked towards the bank of cashiers, I claimed ownership of my addiction. I thought about how much this was going to cost me. I thought about how many times I have been in Chapters over the past few months. I kept telling myself in the past that I didn't have a problem. That I should not sign up for an iRewards card, it wasn't worth it. For a fleeting moment a light shone down on me that sang a heavenly tune confirming that this addiction is ok, and an iRewards card is something useful, not something to scoff at every time the cashier asks me if I want one. I approached the till, and like an AA member, I said, "I'm Melissa, and I buy too many books. I'd like an iRewards card, please."

After saving a nice $18, I arrived at home and pulled my goodies out of the bag. I thought about which one I was going to read next. I am currently working my way through Doctor Zhivago. I sat in front of my bookshelf and pulled out the book I've already designated as my next read. I skimmed over other titles and realized I had others on there that I had forgotten about. Huh. Interesting. Including the new ones, there are seven. Oy. I have a problem. My goal now is to read them all and get them taken care of. I will not sweep them under the rug.

I am not a speedy reader. I want to absorb each word, get caught in the beauty of the scene of the author has painted with lyrical words. I want to connect to the characters and know them inside out. I like to curl up in bed with my book and have a relaxing moment. I am, however, pretty excited about these seven books, so I just might pick up the pace...excuse me now, if you will, I must go and read.

Nice = Nice

Last summer I had the pleasure of attending the Dirt Pigs beer tent. (Yes, I AM a classy gal.) As happens to many a beer tent patron, the end of the evening was approaching and I had too many beer tokens left. What is a girl to do??

Give them away.

Dirt Pigs beer tent is in Walkerton. And how many people do I know who live in Walkerton? Not too many. My friends that I was with (aka, the few Walkerton-folk I know) had similar situations -- already had too many drinks, and too many tokens left. So it just did not make sense to pass my tokens to them.

I looked around, and my sights fell on the young man who either owns or manages the cafe in town, The White Rose. I'm not really sure just what his position is there, but I have two main thoughts about him: 1. He is always the person who serves me there, and 2. he makes the finest Americano I've ever had.

So it just made sense. I strolled over to him, and in both of our intoxicated states, I handed him a token, as a token of my appreciation. He was stunned for a moment and then gleefully accepted.

I am not lying here when I say they make the most amazing Americano I've ever had in my life. This beats the cafes in Australia (where I discovered the Americano), Starbucks (seriously, that place gets more hype than it's worth!), Second Cup, and dare I say it....Balzac's.

*Depending on my reader here, I just committed blasphemy, yikes!*

In any case, I take the opportunity whenever I am in Walkerton to go and have one of these delicious coffees. I'd say I go in there about once or twice a month. Not really too often.

Imagine my surprise when this past weekend, I drop into The White Rose for a cuppa joe, and the owner/manager/guy who takes too many shifts turns around to make my coffee, then turns back around and asks:

"Was that you who bought me a beer token at beer tent last summer?"

I was taken a little off guard, but I quickly, and happily, answered that yes, in fact that was me, because I think he makes the best coffee anywhere.

He smiled wide and said a gracious thank you. Then we spurred into a weird conversation about chemical additives to food and the wave of health conscious groups demanding healthy food.

I left the cafe feeling pretty calm and happy. It's nice to know that my silly little gesture stood out and was remembered almost a whole year later.

Tools and Meat

First point in order: 16 days of work left.

Now for the rest.

Struck in a moment of genius, my roommate suggests an outing for last night. Why not take a tour over to Home Depot, and look at men. Not at cordless drills, not siding, not at lumber. But men. Hopefully good looking, strapping men with rippling biceps.

So we prettied ourselves up in a casual 'I belong at Home Depot' sort of way, and hopped in the car. The plan also involved grabbing dinner there, as many Home Depot's have a Harvey's built right in them. With grumbling bellies and wander lusting eyes, we pulled into the parking lot. Hmmmm....good looking guy pulling out of the parking lot. Should have gotten ready faster.

Once we quelled our case of the giggles, we emerged from the car and made our fake reason for coming. Checking out paint swatches and looking at bath fixtures. Right. And in all sincerity, I wanted to buy a new little tropical fern since mine died way back in February, and I had yet to replace it.

So enter we did. A quick scan of the front of the store revealed no Harvey's. To my utter disappointment and increasing hunger, dinner was put off. My opportunity of hilarity to order a nice piece of meat and a burger at the same time was gone.

We looked at paint samples. We looked at kitchen models. We strolled down the bathroom fixture aisle. And right there, our plan came to fruition. Insanely good looking guy coming down the aisle right for us. I'm pointing to a shower head asking Erin a random question about it, and stop mid question. He breezes past us, and I am at a loss for words. I feel the giggles coming back. I suppress them. Erin is watching him walk away with look of adoration on her face. Neither of us thought so far ahead as to how to get the attention of the good looking men we find at Home Depot. We've been foiled by our own lack of proactive planning.

And then he's gone. We blink at each other, smile, express how nice his arms were, and carry on to the next aisle. After making our way back to the garden area, and not finding any more men to admire, I find the plant I wanted and head to the check out.

Shining glory, there he is. His items are being swiped, he's reaching for his wallet. We pick up the pace and decide that if I go through the self-check out aisle we'll match him for time and can accost him in the parking lot. But the check out girl at his counter must have had a plan of her own. She was chatting him up, slowing him down. I swiped my item, inserted my five dollar bill. I slowly reached for my receipt. Check out girl is still holding him captive.

We realise we would look like idiots if we hang around the exit, so we walk out into the parking lot. Stop and look for traffic--a girl can't be too safe walking to her car. Or, stop and look for traffic to stall even more and wait for the man of our dreams to follow us out. Not working. We get to the car, Erin fumbles for the keys, we both keep looking back at the exit way. He's not coming out.

We look at each other and decide that next week, we are going to the Home Depot in the north end of town where there is a Harvey's and surely, there will be more than one good looking guy.

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!!

He said he was a cowboy, but his Sean John shirt said otherwise.

If you might recall, I love beer. But what I love more than plain ol' beer, is drinking beer outside at a Beer Tent.

This past weekend was the Milverton Rodeo. It's part of the Dodge Rodeo Tour. I love going to the rodeo, but not to see the buckin' bronco's or the enormous bulls. I never make it in time to see the competitions, to hear the whinnies in the background, to see those men try for 8 seconds.

No. I'm a poser. I go to the rodeo after 9pm to go to the after parties. I go for the beer and to look for strapping men whose muscles might ripple along their shirt sleeves. To look for a man who might want to show me how to two-step.

(I'm not a very coordinated dancer....I bow my head with shame.)

There is just something about the dusty ground and cement floor of a pavilion, the sea of cowboy hats, and the semi-warm beer that makes me want to drive an hour out of town. There is something about drunk guys who tip their hat and flash a wicked grin my way. There is something amusing in creating fake names for myself and my friends, and telling these lies to perfect strangers with a big grin on my face (I'm kind of like that.).

Really, who would believe that my name is Betty, and my brunette friend is Veronica, and that we come from Riverdale? Who would believe that I have a kind-of-boyfriend named Archie, though I think he has the hots for Veronica, and we fight about it sometimes? Who would believe my tall friend over there is Moose, and that is his girlfriend Midge? You would not believe how many guys fall for this story. And those who say, "if he's you're kind-of-boyfriend, does that mean we can dance?" Just kidding, they don't say that.... But they don't always clue in. So then I walk away laughing and they don't know why. But I stick around and chat to those who say "Betty? Really??? I'm Archie!!!"

Enough of my lies. Back to my point. Milverton Rodeo. This was my first Milverton Rodeo. I've been to other rodeos in the past, but I have to say, this was the best one. My roomie Erin was right, it was as good as Christmas. Maybe even better.

I'm sad to announce I will not be attending the Exeter Rodeo. It's the same day as my brother's buck'n'doe down in Mississauga. Sigh.....those city kids better know what a buck'n'doe is all about, or this kid is gonna cause a ruckus. But I'm hoping to make it to St Marys Beer Tent next month...anyone want to come????

Nectar of the Gods

I like beer. There is no two ways around it. Good beer, bad beer~premium brands, bottom of the barrel brands. Sweet golden brew.

I usually choose buy cases of Moosehead or Alexander Keith's. Show my Canadian pride. But when the funds are low...you've just gotta swing that way. Lucky for me, I find some of those bottom brands a tasty treat.

One snowy afternoon a few years ago, when my university roommate Mary Jane was lucky enough to have her parents car for the day, we took a trip to the Beer Store. Somewhere in the past school year, we had come across Molson Stock Ale. Now this really is the scrapings at the bottom. And just like me, Mary Jane appreciates a fine, bad beer. (Some of you might call it Old Man Beer.) We place our order: one 2-4 of Molson Stock Ale. The Beer Store guy looked at us funny, paused, then turned around and disappeared into the store room.

He returned, several minutes later. Evidently, cases of Molson Stock are not at the front of the store room. Those spots are reserved for beers like Canadian, Blue and Coors Light (all of which, I ironically despise). He placed the case on the counter. He looked us in the eye, bent over the case and blew on it. Dust scattered towards us.

He stood back up and said "Here you go ladies, enjoy...."

One might think to themselves that a dusty case of beer is a bad situation. Not us. It was still delicious and refreshing. Still did the job.

So be adventurous. Try those cheap beers, try every kind you can.