Mother F!@#%&

I hit the ditch. On the way to a class that was cancelled. With a dead cell phone. On a snowy May day.

Right after I talked about how blessed and wonderful my life is.

I think it might be karma from "miscalculating" some numbers on my return from the US.

But I took care of it myself. I am proud that I was able to get out of my vehicle, walk back to the highway in flip flops (I had shoes in the back, but it made sense to get my feet wet and dry them off rather than wet the shoes) in a snow/mud covered ditch and flag down a car so I could call CAA, while holding it together and not bawling. The logical problem solver was there before the traumatized mess.

The positive part of me did have the internal dialogue that said: you didn't flip, you didn't fly into oncoming traffic, you didn't land in a dugout, you're physically fine, you have CAA Gold, there were no coyotes around to eat me, I had heat and a radio, there was no significant damage done to my vehicle and I had 5 vehicles stop to offer help.

That internal dialogue lasted 5 seconds before I started crying. I was traumatized. I have been driving for 10 years and have never once hit the ditch. But that fricking ice/slush patch did me in. I had just slowed down because a semi infront of me was going slow and spraying mist, so because I wasn't in a huge rush, I just backed off. But I was still going between 90 and 100km/h. Combine that with the momentum of an out of control car and a girl who knew not to hit the brakes and make things worse, I spun around twice in the opposite lane and ditch before flying through the snow bank and heading through thick mud towards a dug out. I stopped fifty feet short of the dugout.

I had forty five minutes before the tow truck arrived to go over the details in my head, three of which I used to watch the grader come and clean the icy slushy patch I slipped on. So when the crabby CAA tow truck driver showed up, I was thankful, until he opened his mouth. "You need to slow down". I just stared. He repeated himself. The rage that consumed me in the moment could have physically torn his arms and legs off so I could beat him with them. I didn't need a lecture. I'm a grown up. I know I should have slowed down more when hitting a patch of slushy ice. But I was by no means speeding. He said I was the 4th person to hit the ditch here. Second today. I wondered if they got the lecture or if it was just the young, blonde haired, 2 door car driving female. I guarantee an older looking male counterpart wouldn't have... which makes me even madder.

I'm blessed it was minor. It could have been much worse. I controlled my emotions and solved the problem first. But that doesn't make it suck any less. Did I mention I had to pee?

At least I wasn't late for class. (SCREAM) Or allergic to my pants... Haha!

Some people are allergic to cheese. I am allergic to my pants.

Okay, this isn't even a joke. I went to the doctor twice.

First time I had an actual rash in the exact shape of my bra line. I was pretty sure I would be able to sue La Senza. That doctor said "it's an allergy...put this cream on it, it will go away".

It went away.

Then, a different kind of rash showed up on my upper thighs, and part of my back, and part of my calves. My regular doctor was busy, so I saw the walk-in dude. He says "it's an allergy...did you try new soap? New pants? Seafood?"...I could tell he really wanted me to say "Oh yeah, I have new soap, with new pants and I ate octupus for dinner." But none of that was true!

So what I've concluded is, I am allergic to pants. And bras. This could have a significant impact on my social life, not to mention my career.

I actually have photos, but although I pretty muhc share all details here, I draw the line at posting rash photos. I mean, I do have SOME online boundaries.

So, wish me well as I try to figure out what the hell is causing my itchy, rashy redness!! ARGH!

Sin City meet Jennifer

Las Vegas is like another planet. It's slow all day long, but once night hits, it's complete mayhem.

Every skinny person has fake boobs. Boys wear purple crocs. Yeah, that's plural. I saw more than one boy wearing purple crocs. But that's better than the people who don't wear shoes at all.

I also got some insight into the obesity problems. Instead of stairs and ramps, they have escalators and walkways, some even lead directly to McDonald's.

Tipping on this planet has to be second nature. They won't let you do anything yourself, because that would be free and you wouldn't have to shell money out to anyone. I F$%^ING HATE TIPPING. I spent more money on tipping than I did on booze and gambling combined.

Also, the planet of Las Vegas smells like old lady glade plug-ins. It causes instant headaches. I'm not sure how anyone can stand it.

Anyway, Las Vegas is pretty awesome despite its quirks. But Canada is better. Way less loud obnoxious people here.

Life is Good

I'm having the best year of my life. Things could not possibly go any better.

I've gone on incredible trips to Maui and Las Vegas. I loved my job at the Chamber. I won scholarships. I met a very nice, cute and respectful guy. I enjoy my classes including a new scary one, which has two assignments I've done before!! I love the World Gym so much, I go for hours a day. I have a wonderful family that I love despite their issues. My friends are amazing. I'm truly blessed that this is the life I get to live.

I just feel guilty. I feel guilty that things are wonderful for me and that I'm so happy when other people have lives filled with pain and hurt. I feel guilty saying how truly happy I am because I feel like I'm rubbing it in other people's faces. I feel bad that they aren't as happy as I am. It's not like crappy stuff doesn't happen to me. It does. It just seems like the happy stuff is so much bigger.

So I just needed to vent about how deliriously happy I am and not feel like I was rubbing it in anyone's face.