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.

Jen on Fire

So, my best friend Krista has an adorable baby, Brooklyn. Brooklyn is 7 months and about 17lbs. I love her. A lot. So, knowing that I'm going to Las Vegas next week, I decided I was going to hog her... Bad decision.

So I held her throughout the grocery stores. I held her in the Pizza place. I held her at the park.

That night my arm was so sore it was keeping me from falling asleep. Finally, 2 am hits, and I know I have an interview in the morning and need to be well rested. I put on the Arbonne version of A535. It works AWESOME!!! I love the stuff. One of its best features is that it will reactivate the heat when its warm.

I woke up, jumped in the shower and the water is hot. Normal right?? It was my arm that was begin reheating that caused some discomfort. It was on fire. It was warm to touch, My blood was boiling. It was sooo hot. I thought I was going to die throughout my entire job interview.

But I forgot about the muscle pain...

Drunk People are Funny!

If you are in need of a smile or laugh, click below:

http://perezhilton.com/2010-04-20-drunk-people-are-funny

I really laughed out loud. It reminded me of Craven.

84 days til Craven!!

In case you haven't noticed...

I've been saving up blogs. I make a list and write them when I want to procrastinate doing something else. Like studying.

It also makes me weed out the ones that are crappy.

So I'll leave you with this thought, it's my current favorite:

May the hair on your lip grow upside down and get tangled in the hair coming out of your nose

Lap N Snack

So, there is this commercial for the Lap and Snack. A bowl that fits on your leg so you don't need to balance, you don't have to hold the bowl and it makes it easier to share. I always get so excited when it comes on because of course, I want one. Badly. As bad as I want bandaids that have pickles on them.

Half way through the commercial, the screen and my dream of lap 'n' snack ownership is ripped away to reveal an SUV. And then the commercial has the audacity to tell me to get out more. Pfff. Whatever. I want the lap 'n' snack more than the SUV.

I love my old school cell phone but...

My phone has Alzheimer’s. No, not really. However, my texts are no longer being received in the manner I prefer – promptly! But I have a theory. It is because of stupid people (probably girls, sorry I'm a chick and I even think that young girls are getting stupider by the minute, ex. TV show 16 and pregnant, I dare you to watch it for an enitre episode and not purchase a gun immediately after).

Anyway, they are tying up the text magic signal land because their bored and think texting makes them look cool, when it really makes you look self absorbed. And these girls, I have ideas on what they could be doing.

They could be writing a dictionary full of words that don’t exist, kape!

VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

I just want to throw this out there, but there are way too many bald guys walking around with long hair.

Growing your hair longer does not compensate for only having it on the sides or back or middle of your head.

Looking at your nasty Bret Michaels inspired hair makes me get a headache. It causes my retinas to become confused and not understand how to synapse, improperly sending messages through my optic nerve to the occipital lobe, so please stop! Or at least do as Bret Michaels, at least he covers the bald part with a bandana and hat.

Oh, and Flava Fav, I'm gunning for you next. I still don't understand why you are on you 4th reality tv show. And how there can be that many trashtastic ho's who want to be with you. You're like 50. Have 10 kids. And are 5'1". No one wants to be with you. Except maybe the prostitute from Borat.

Good Lord, when will it end...

So, I've been in Saskatoon since Sunday.

Sunday night, I vacuumed all the carpet in the house. Standing at the end of the hallway, I decided to use an attachment around the edges. I pulled the handle attached to the hose and dust exploded everywhere. I had to ask Angela how to use the vacuum, which I'm still not convinced I have the skill to do.

Yesterday, I decided to have toast. I put the bread in the toaster. And all I see are button and dials. Frozen, Fresh, Bagel, 1-8 darkness settings, and a cancel button. But I can't get the toaster to start. There was no start button, so I pushed on the bread. Nothing! Finally, as I was about to give up, I noticed the lever that is on every toaster made in Canada since 1973. Apparently, toaster usage isn't easy for me either.

But what really takes the cake was tonight when I was making pasta. I thought to check the jar of pasta sauce to make sure it was mold free first. So I grabbed the jar, twisted the lid and cut my finger open on pasta sauce. I was bleeding profusely, similar to a paper cut. I had cut myself opening a jar. I mean, the pasta sauce was dried, hard, and apparently sharp but still... Is this what my life is going to be.

Am I really going to be the klutz who hurts herself on pasta sauce??

I guess I don't really care because I have 5 coupons for Booster Juice, and those coupons made my day, and possibly week. They are the International Symbol of "everything's going to be ok". Ange said she was going notify the UN so they can prepare for world peace.

Fate screws with Jennifer.

I had plans. Wonderful, glorious plans for the last summer that I will be a student.

Social Services called. Oh, no, not in that way! They want to hire me, well, at least interview me.

I talked to Angela, and that helped. But I want to talk to my Dad. And he’s not currently in the country. I know he’ll be home tomorrow but I’m thinking about this now!!! So in his place, I’ve made lists... Reasons to take the job and reasons not to

Reasons why: money, experience, good for resumes, I’ll be busier, do both if SS will accommodate classes, closer to Brooklyn

Reasons why not: It’s Melfort, I can’t live with Mom, SS is not a division I’m interested in, classes are registered for May, better health in Saskatoon/happier.

Then my Aunty Shannon played the “what’s more important game” which really helped. What’s more important having the experience (in a field and town where I don’t want to work) and money (which is nice, but isn’t a motivating factor) or finishing your degree sooner (which if I don’t take summer classes, I will have to get permission to take extra classes one semester or add one on at the end and that’s not appealing)

I feel like I have some clarity, and a lot of questions for my interviewers...

I shouldn't complain that too many good things happen at once and ruin my other great plans. I'm such a lucky girl!

Quarter of a Century!

I turned 25 last Monday. I had a great day. I received so many beautiful birthday wishes that at one point during the day I actually cried.

But the best part of the day is when Dad took me out for supper. I ordered a Peach Bellini. The waitress then asked for my ID!

I sure hope that happens when I turn 35!

Thanks God for making two celebrity Wahlbergs

You know about my minor obsession with the New Kids, which has one Wahlberg in it, but did I ever mention my other Wahlberg love - as in Mark? I saw Date Night tonight and thank God he is shirtless in it the whole time.

Now, as I reminisce, I thought it was important to dig out this ad from 1992. Which I totally had on my bedroom wall. Which I think I actually kept in my souvenir box somewhere. But thankfully since 1992 the Internet has become mainstream and I could just find it on Google Images.

So, here ya go. And let me just ask, who still looks that good after 18 years!?!

It's Your Birthday, Happy Birthday...

Happy Quarter Century to Jen! Have a wonderful birthday.
Love your co-blogging author and sister,
Ange

(To review my favorite baby Jen story, make sure and read last year's April 5th post.)

Boys. Not Men.

I joined Jen and her friends the other night at a Saskatoon country music bar. (Where else would we go?) This was a first. Other than Craven, I am quite sure the bar is not a place we frequent together. I wasn't much of a bar hopper when I was 21 and I am definitely not now that I am 31.

Anyway, other than the reduction in tobacco smoke, not much has changed since I was 21. At this particular bar they still play country music from 1995, so that was fantastic. Oh, and people have cell phones now. So that has changed too. I am sure people had cell phones when I was 19, 20 and 21, but let's think back to 1997 shall we? Do you remember what your phone looked like? Not pretty. It probably didn't fit in your pocket. If you even had one. Other than that, it's a bunch of drunk guys slobbering over girls who spent too much time on themselves getting ready.

So, the other thing I couldn't quite figure out was why people look so ... different? Boys in particular. It wasn't until I was chatting at one point with Laurie (shout out to you hun!), who lives in the age range of 27-ish, when she said, "Y'know, the boys are cute here, but they're all, like, 22."

That's when it occured to me.
The boys are 10 years younger than me. Really, they are ... boys. Not men.
I stayed the same, but THEY got younger.

What I did not realize about aging is that you stay the same on the inside, but everyone else around you gets younger! WTF?! It wasn't until the two cops walked in when I realized THE COPS WERE MY AGE! What kind of Twilight Zone place is this?! Sure, there were some older people there. Like the bartender. But the age range went from 20's to 40's, with not alot of 30's in between.

So, shortly after, I called Dad, he picked us up, and I went back to being surrounded by my family and not by boys by brother's age.

Blogging Insight!

Blogs are kinda like song writing, you have to write a lot to get a hit. I’ve written a lot of blogs, but sometimes its the situation where you have to be there. For example, Grandma Nelson is so much funnier in person. Hence, why I need the TV show!!!

Karma, Faith and Signs

So, I believe things happen for a reason. I believe that for most bad things too. They only seem bad, and could’ve been worse. And the bad things are what make the wonderful things so wonderful. I have faith that things will work out the way they are supposed to. I believe in karma, do good and you’ll receive good, do bad and you’ll receive bad. I also believe in signs. That some moments in life you’ll see something and it’ll shock you.

Well that’s what happened to me this past weekend. I was thinking about a cute boy, who will remain nameless. Later that night when I looked at the chalk board in the hall that said “Happy Birthday Janice”, I notice some writing inside the balloons drawn on the board. It said “Jen” and then below to the left it had this nameless boy’s initials. No one in Biggar would possibly know that. So I think it’s a sign. That and my subconscious is super obsessed with him. He’s reoccurring in way too many dreams.

I’m doing nothing. Well, I guess I’m writing this blog about. But that’s all the action I’m taking. I’m not a crazy stalker.

Could you imagine, “Hi, Cute Boy! I saw our names on a chalk board in Biggar and I dream about you a lot. Wanna hang out??” May as well tattoo CRAZY on my forehead!

Ugh! My shoes...

I was in Biggar on the weekend for a cabaret. During the cabaret, about 6 drinks in (so I was still sober enough to realize what was happening), I went to buy another drink. In line, at the bar I could feel wetness in my socks. I looked down and there was water, two inches deep, everywhere!!!

A toilet in the boy’s bathroom was overflowing. Into the bar. And onto the dance floor. GROSS

Needless to say, this was point I knew that I wouldn’t be forgetting this night. The next day, I didn’t want to put my shoes on. After I touched them to put them on, I sanitized my hands. When I got home, my Mom threw them in the washing machine.

I still can’t wear them though. There’s toilet water stigma on them.

Brotherly Love

Yesterday night I decided to finish my Christmas baking. I had everything I needed to make toffee! The most wonderful delicious incredible toffee. So at 10:30, I started stirring the butter, sugar, eagle brand and corn syrup, it was ready to sit overnight!

Today, Mom, Corey and I all had a few peices, but it was Grandma and Grandpa, mostly Grandpa who ate HALF the pan. So I was a little shocked when I got home from work at 4:30.

After supper I went to have another peice, and this is what I saw:

Thanks Corey. I love you too.