Jen's First Kitchen Fire

Today I was making one of Ange's great recipes that she gets from Kraft Canada. In one pan I was cooking the chicken and in a pot on the other burner, I was boiling water. Since I believe in multi-tasking, I was also on facebook and youtube.

All of a sudden I could smell burning. Bad burning. I looked my chicken, swirled it around, it was fine. I look to the other burner and there are flames! Actual 6 inch flames coming from underneath my pot of water.

So what do I do? I know you're wondering! While remaing calm, I try and blow it out. It got bigger. I said to my dad who was on the couch in the other room, "Uhhhh Dad, Help! Help! It's a fire." He thought I was joking. I said "No really, the stove is on fire, should I pour the water on it?" (Please note I know not to throw water on grease fires thanks to volunteering at the babysitters course in 2008). He shot that idea down. So I did what I do: I took a picture, to remember my first kitchen fire by. And maybe to scrapbook, blog or put on facebook.

The fire burnt itself out. Dad didn't have to get off the couch and I survived.

Men Vs Women in the Headlines!

Not that its really hard to argue women are smarter, I have come up with irrefutable proof as found in the headlines! I looked at over a year of 2009's random headlines, here were the most disturbing:

MEN

1. Man had to be rushed to ER after trying to circumsize himself with nail clippers
2. Racoon bites off penis of pervert (man) as he was trying to rape it
3. Man cuts off penis in name of love
4. Man almost loses penis while humping steel bench
5. Man's penis bitten off in car accident by women (It was his secretary, so this goes in the Boss is a loser category. Also with this news story was a photo of what "two people having an affair might look like")

WOMEN:

1. Women freed after days trapped in recycling bin (In her defense, she was 74 and knocked over by her dog)

So, I analyzed these headlines, can you find a common similiarity of men's stupidity?

It's currently -9 and I'm okay with that.

I never thought I'd be happy to be in the cold instead of say... Florida. But I am.

I'm glad I'm not in Tampa Bay. There's a feces throwing monkey on the loose.

I'm dead serious. Not joking or lying. There is truly a feces throwing monkey on the loose.

For Alicia:

I took Alicia to Arborfeild once. I didn't take her home. I think I should apologize, but I'm sure she made the best of it.

She asked me to write her a blog today since I was texting while being slightly underwork at the office today.

This blog isn't the best (since I'm being forced and the creative juices are frozen), so one day when I'm famous, I'll give her a fake credit at the end of my tv show for being in my entourage and a shout out in the liner notes of my sure to be smash-hit multi-platnium CD.

Actually... she confessed she has a video camera and her life is like an episode of The Office. Maybe she can tape our reality show!

Cha-Ching

I uplifted my grandma's heart today, what did you do?

I told her about receiving a scholarship from the City of Melfort awarded to me by Cumberland College. She's very proud. It sounded like she was tearing up.

So, while I'm being all mushy and feeling-sy, I have to say I know my Grandma and Grandpa Hill would be proud too.

They think it's hard to win a scholarship though. My little secret, just being me. I wrote a write up about being a banker and wanting to go to school this time and being "passionate" about it and being financially responsible, being a Nipawin Kinette and world wide do-gooder. Then I threw in my transcripts from the exams I write for the classes I don't go to. I'm thinking maybe they didn't have the highest standards! Haha.

Please note: this is all in jest, please don't take away the money!

Blog Abuse?

Angela and I went to Maui. It was friggin' awesome.

We have neglected our blog since our trip. We know. But it's not considered abuse like neglecting elder. If it was you probably would have heard from us.

We've been gone a long time, and A LOT has happened. So it's just overwhelming to start rethinking it all. Like when you don't go to class all semester, then have to write the final.

Wait... Ange wouldn't do that. So I don't know what her excuse is.

Anyway, we have lots of stories from trip -- lesbos from Oregon to the near death of Dr Pepper. Yes, we have lots of stories.

We will share them, we promise.

Finally, someone who'll listen!

... and there he was right before my very own eyes in Chapters,

Jordan Knight, in the flesh...

Toothbrush holders, panty liners and other items of interest to national security

As I write this, I'm enduring some turbulence on West Jet flight 1852 to Kaluhui. I can't even pronounce that, but that is my destination. I am actually not blogging this at all. I'm writing on the back of my BelAir Travel itinerary with my SaskPower promotional pen - (thanks EnerAction!).

It's 11:15 pm Sask time, and I'd kill to brush my teeth, have a glass of water and a hot meal! But who's complaining? This is what going to Hawaii entails. The day started with delays. Grant dropped me off at YQR (makes Regina airport sound exotic, doesn't it?) at 12:50, two hours and ten minutes before I was supposed to leave. Make that three hours...a 4:00 departure instead of 3:00, says the super-chipper-WestJet-check-in girl with thick eyeliner. After a record fast check in and security clearance, I`m waiting. Jen texted me for awhile, I called my oldest BFF Jeri, and paced the airport to keep my hip pain from flaring from the excessive sitting. I`m sure the airport cameras caught me wandering like some kind of mental, anxious flyer, but really, it`s just an inflamed joint.

Finally at 3:58, I board.
CHECK DOCS.
My boarding pass gets scanned again.
CHECK DOCS.
The WestJet guy can`t get the message to go away, but there is a green check mark, so I am clear to board. Whew.

Go to Calgary. Stop. Go to Vancouver. Transfer. With the hour delay, we just make it through customs in time. Lucky me, the same crew flying me to Vancouver also flys us to Hawaii, but on a different plane, so no worries about missing the flight! They are just as delayed as the passengers.

Anyway, the point of this blog....the drill with CATSA: remove your shoes, belt, jacket, purse. Put them in a plastic tote to be scanned. Guess what. CATSA staff have never seen my rocking Tupperware toothbrush holder. I threw it in my purse because we can`t have carry on bags. It holds your toothbrush upright, with a little weight at the bottom. It scans, they don`t recognize it, and want to go through my items. Fine. I particularly enjoyed watching the big burly security man fumbling and putting panty liners back into my make-up kit. I tried not to laugh. They finally found the offensive item and determine it is not a weapon. Uh no. I probably could throw it at someone`s head and leave a good dent. Might be a possibility in the case of the parents behind me in line with the pair of four-year-olds carrying on and laughing about poop and bums.

Then came the CSI moment.

A swipe of your hands to determine if you have `material that could be detrimental to the operation of the aircraft`, is how they put it. (Not a test for H1N1 as the elderly gentleman in front of me suggested). Apparently he`s never seen Horatio and Grissom in action on CSI.

Did I mention the turbulence! Wooo!!

I broke the law, but it was worth it!

You're shocked that a straight-laced girl like me would break the law right? Even a silly law like 'no using a cell phone while driving'...well, I did it. But I swear it was worth it. Here's the scenario:

Monday. Lunch time. Leave work. Go shopping.
Put purse on front seat. Blackberry goes in purse. Other cell goes in purse.
Shop.
Head back to work. Blackberry rings. Still driving. Answer Blackberry. Recognize sister's number.
"This better be important, 'cause I'm breaking the law right now."
Sister: "It is if you want to go to Maui!"
Briefly consider that something terrible has happened to your father who's in Maui.
Realize that what is being proposed is going to Maui! On your father's dime! Like, now!
Act calm.
Tell sister you will check your work schedule when you get back to office. (Checking the calendar feature on the Blackberry while driving is definitely a bad idea.)
Schedule is good.

Tuesday. Boss gets back from Mexico.
Holidays get approved.
Flights get booked.
Tanning begins! (Thanks Tera and the MasterSun 360 at Tropicana Tan!)

Wednesday. Passports come out of security box.
Bathing suit shopping commences at Wal-Mart.
Find two $3 bathing suits! (Love January clearance on summer items!)
Thursday. Start rubbing it in at work that you get to go to Hawaii. Wait, that was happening since Monday....
Husband asks, "Have you left yet?"
Get a painful, but necessary, waxing job.
Tell husband that no, he can't see the waxing job.
Do more laundry.

The End

Maui

I sleep with my phone on 'silence'. That way it doesn't wake me up when I get texts at god awful hours like 8:30am. I will never do this again.

I woke up this morning and reached for me phone and it was ringing. It was some strange (808) number. I answered. It was Glen (my dad). Saying to get my butt to MAUI asap. Yes a surprise trip to MAUI.

Yeah, I jumped outta bed so fast, I got whiplash. I was shaking and couldn't think straight.

For some reason in my just-woken haze, I started throwing stuff in my book bag and thinking I had to get home to pack. I must be leaving immediately.

I phone Dad's travel agent and she got me a flight for the weekend. Yeah I leave Sunday for MAUI.

I can hear it playing in my head "I'm in Maui, trick, Drink all day, play all night, let's get it poppin', I'm in Maui trick"

I won't drink much cuz I want to enjoy my trip and I have no idea what "let's get it poppin'" means. But as of Sunday, I'm in MAUI trick.

Happy Holidays

Although, it is belated, Angela and I hope that you enjoyed your seasonal festivites whatever they might have been.

We had a wonderful christmas in Regina. We even got to go shopping with our Gayle (Heather) on her birthday, Dec 27.

We've been so busy doing real people things, we have sort of neglected the blog. I'm certain in the new year Angela and I can try and devote more time to creating blogs.

You'd be suprised how many times a day one of us says "That should be a blog"!

Hope you all have a Happy New Year!

Rules for Partying with Jen

With New Years coming up, I've compiled a list of things mandatory of my peeps when partying with me. Here it goes...

· When peeing outside, always pee downhill, and be mindful of wind direction. I don’t party with people who piss on themselves.

· Do not puke in vehicles. Puke outside. If you’re with Krista you’ll have to use a gas receipt to wipe your mouth and nose

· Do not eat celery after a night of drinking because if you barf it up, it looks like boogers.

· It’s your job to cock block me from leprechauns, mullet men and old ugly guys or anyone wearing Ed Hardy clothing because that makes them a tool.

· If my song is on, we can not go to the bathroom or get a drink or clean any blood or cuts. We MUST dance.

· If my song comes on and we’re talking, talking will cease so singing can commence but continue talking during the instrumental breaks.

· Vodka and Music trump blood. I don’t care I’m bleeding, I’m need a drink! I don’t care I’m bleeding, I need to dance.

· Remind me I’m old everytime I try to order a screwdriver or vodka special. They give me heartburn.

· When I hug a guy on crutches, fall, pull him down to and then pull the table on top, it’s time to leave even though I’m protesting. .

· If the beer tub girl isn’t looking at the money in your hand and flirting with some guy, just take the beer and walk away. Try and grab two beers. The only thing that tastes better than free liquor is stolen liquor.

· If a guy you dance with twirls you around his arm and your feet never touch the ground, you’ve met Mark or Kevin. I can’t remember.

· If a chick hits on the guy you like, get her name and start telling people she has genital warts. Take a page from Pat Benetar, Love is a battlefield.

· Remain hangover free by drinking water and eating crackers before passing out

· If you can’t two step, Krista will teach you. It is a necessary skill

· If I am drunk, and say “let me handle this”. Don’t be fooled I am not in control of the situation and will do the opposite of what should be done.

· If I say I’m not drunk, seriously... I’m loaded. Take my wallet. And my phone. Turn it off and tell me it died. I will need to be tricked to be prevented from drunktexting.

· When someone says its their birthday, If you think they look young or possibly related to you, ask for ID, do it just because you want to creep them later on facebook. It’s acceptable because I do it too.

· Chicks before Dicks unless it’s Hot Patrick or someone of equal hotness

Alright, now let's go party!!!

Managing Your Holiday Shopping

Being the strategic organizer I am (and bossy), it really frustrates me to see people going out shopping three million times and paying for gas and parking all those times and fighting crowds. You know why it's frustrating for me, cuz then they get bitchy and I have to put up with it. Or they get bitchy and accuse me of being bitchy!!! So, here's how you effectively christmas shop:

On Rememberance Day, since you have the day off...

1. Make a chart. Name, Dollar Amount, Gift, and Store should all be titles.
2. Write down the names, then how much you want to spend and ideas for gift in the respective columns next to the name.
3. Once that's done, write down the store where you will find that gift.

Well, look at that, all the places you need to go in a list and all the items you need to buy are there too!!! Perfect.

My secret tip -- color code your list to the malls that each store is in. Purple for Southland, Yellow for Cornwall, Pink for Victoria, Blue for Walmart.

Now, go to those malls the same week as Rememberance day. Buy everything you need.

See your done. Now, you should also notice how you aren't bitchy.

Or, you can do like me, buy everything online and wait for it to come to you. Parking is always available, I can fight the crowds at the post office, my advantage - I'm younger than the people who loiter there by 50 years and I don't need to stop and read the obituaries.

I'm just a small town girl...

So when my cousin Megan and I went to the big city it didn't take us long to find a "weirdo".

We hadn't been in the city for more than three minutes when a guy in a car pulled up in the lane next to us. He was normal looking. But I noticed that he was wearing blue latex gloves. That's strange.

So now I'm thinking of all the reasons he would be wearning those:

• his car was so dirty he didn't want to touch anything
• he's scared of H1N1
• he forgot to take them off after doing a pap exam
• he's late for giving a prostate exam
• fucked-up fashion
• he has OCD and its just not logical
• he was cutting up meat and didn't want the germs on his hands or under his nails
• he couldn't afford real mitts... (maybe he shouldn't be driving such a nice car then)

Don't google 'why people wear latex gloves'. It's more disgusting and disturbing than anything I could think of.

Seriously, What the hell is wrong with people?

By people, I mean boys.

No, I’m sorry don’t like you enough to let you kiss or touch me in anyway...

Yes, I liked (past tense) your friend. He is very goodlooking and charming. But he’s a manwhore.

You bet I told my friends about kissing your hot friend. They care about me and when they ask, “What did you do this weekend?” I answer them honestly. Plus, I want to brag.

You can be mad that I liked him more than you. You think no girl has been passed up for her hotter friend. Have you met my friends? They are all hotter than me. But I don’t raise hell about it. I accept it gracefully with a little dignity and a moderate amount of vodka.

I think it is fine you’re jealous that I kissed him and not you. I’m a good kisser. You should be jealous.

You know what, be pissed off I told my friends. I don’t care. We’ll all laugh about this later anyway.

But please keep your reactions to youself or take a page from integrity and act like a man when you feel jealousy and rejection. I know they are tough emotions to deal with however, this does not mean you can cause shit. Verbally attacking me will really get you no where. Well, unless my brother finds out and then drags your sorry ass to the middle of the no where to beat 'respect for women' into you.

So, I’m refusing to get worked up, which I’m sure pisses you off even more. It’s funny because I’d probably care if you were cute. But I’ve already wasted too much time trying to figure out whats wrong with you. I haven't taken enough abnormal psych classes I guess. I'm actually so disturbed that this makes me feel so powerful that I can make you jealous. Hahaha (evil laugh)

So please take your jealousy, hostility and rejection and hold it tight tonight when you’re in bed alone. Alone because you act like a cross between a douche bag Jon Gosselin and his 8 yr old daughter Maddy.

We could be friends...

Dear Jordan,

It was 24 hours ago that I was getting my hourly gossip dose on people.com and I saw on the twitter ticker that you were advertising your facebook and wanting to add friends.

So I added you. I called my sister immediately from my cell phone even though I was in the house because it was the phone closest to me to tell her too. I think she was disappointed that you weren't in Saskatoon. She was ready to start the car and drive three hours to Saskatoon to find you like a real stalker would.

So, I guess I'm just really pissed off that you haven't accepted my friend request. Like what's the hold up. Don't you remember when we met in Chapters. Nov 18 -13 months ago at approx. 3:00 pm when you were buying the Ted Turner biography. I smiled, shook your hand and told you I had your doll. We're practically REAL friends.

Thanks,
Your soon to be friend Jennifer

"Any whisky in there?"

Today as I was about to throw out an old 2009 daytimer, I came across an interesting list. Not your usual 'milk, bread, fruit', or 'laundry, mail letter, call SaskTel' kind of list.

Written in the back are a few bullet points, which I must have made during one of Grandma Nelson's visits. Now, we've already mentioned a few times on the blog what a riot she is, even when she's not trying. I must have made a list so that I could scrapbook about her visit -- and not forget about the little gems she was spouting off.

So, because I have NO idea what I was going to scrapbook, or if there are any photos at all, or when this even happened (presumably sometime in 2009), I will share with you this list.

Ah-hem. (This is verbatim. Hope you can read my notes and bad spelling.)

-g'ma is going to give Mom a licking for dumping out coffee
-can't retire from gardening 'cuz they can still walk
-Grandma's enjoying herself immensely 1115AM - day 1
-bathroom does everything except pee for you
-getting ice tea in cooler "Any whisky in there?"

I don't know why my list ends there. Or where we were. Or what we were doing. But I am sure glad I took notes.

Renovations Suck.

I live with my Mom and brother. We have one bathroom. Three weeks ago, we tore the old tub surround out. We ran into disaster below the tub surround and have actually taken the circular saw to the walls. This house is cursed by the Voo Doo Priestess of Insomnia. It's because in 1977 she left her sleeping pills behind the plumbing. I found them, but that hasn't stopped the ever persistent problems.

So, for three weeks, I've been bumming showers from friends and family (Thanks Dad, Connie and, of course, Megan and her heated bathroom floors). I would like to take this opportunity to extend my sincerest appreciation.

But I'm Jennifer. So naturally I've created a devious plan to manipulate this project into completion. However, I will share some advice first. NEVER pay your brother and his buddy BEFORE the job is done, and you can avoid this whole mess.

Back to my plan... I am hereby no longer bathing or participating in any form of hygiene. It will take 24 hours for my skin cells to rebalance to their normal pH level. This is also when my stink will start. My hair will get greasy, the b.o. will be overwhelming and my teeth will grow fur. After day 3, when I will be judged for going out in public, I will follow Corey or Lane around. To work, to restaurants, to liquor stores. I will use all my resources to stalk them. And my unbelievably disgusting self will force them into submission where they will put up the last 5 tiles, apply the grout and sealant.

Pretty awesome right...

1985 called. They want their Christmas backdrop back.

I was looking for a picture tonight to go into one of those photo-frame Christmas ornaments. I didn't find anything that would work, but I did find the photo we are now using on this blog to celebrate the holiday season.

I remember this photo. I think it was taken at McLeod's, or some other now extinct department store, gone the way of Woolco and Eatons and Richardsons. Maybe it was a SAAN photo? Either way, that background is totally fake. It's one of those rollout vinyl backdrops that appears in every Christmas family photo in the mid-80's.

Check out those rings! Yup, I thought they were da bomb. One was purple and one was diamond. As in SAAN store diamond. Maybe it was still the Met. That shirt might have come from Stylerite --there was no WalMart in 1985 in Canada. Jen's outfit probably came from the same place. It's too bad her shirt and overalls don't match. It's one of those 'kinda almost matches good enough for this photo' matches; but still not an actual two-piece set. Who cares anyway, because she's probably pooping her pants at the moment.

Check out my hair cut. Or, what passed for a haircut in those days. Judging by the way my bangs have been gnawed off, I am guessing Mom did that herself. But I think that hairband really helps pull the look off.

This is our first professional photo together at the tender age of 7 for me, 7 months for Jen. I'm gonna find the "matching white angel dress" one next!

This is NOT 7th Heaven

And we do NOT resemble the Camden family so I have no idea why there is a homeless kid living in the basement.

Grandpa called him a drifter, using more colorful language. Not to his face. That I know of... I can't actually be sure about Grandpa and Grandma anymore.

Maybe just for one second we can recall the incident where the guy got his head cut off on the bus. So maybe all drifters with guitars aren't safe. This isn't 1960.

He spilt wine on the floor, smells like dog food, looked at porn on the computer, left the toilet unflushed and the cupboard doors open. I guess I should be thankful I do still have my head.

He left after 3 days. He even left behind his brick of cheese and 4 boxes of KD. He must have left fast... I wonder if we are really crazy enough that we scared away the homeless kid

I'm no longer bleeding green, I'm crying green.

First of all, I kinda feel like a lot of my blogs should be called this. But this is important and truly vomit inducing.

I just started watching the CFL for really last month when my dad explained how downs and all that junk works, not just pretend watching to pick up boys. Anyway, I am very very disappointed.

Tonight the Roughriders lost by 1 point. Montreal won because we had an extra man on feild and they got to re-kick. Their first kick, the one they did with our extra man on the field didn't make it through the goal post. They got a second kick and of course made the ball go through the prongs.

So many things were racing through my mind. At first I was happy because they ball didn't go through, what kind of sucky ass team can't do that from the 30 yard line. I could do that and I can't kick anything without falling down!! Then I was baffled because they were kicking again. Only in the movies does shit like that happen.

Maybe the Riders can't count. They were probably pushed through math class so they could play football.

Maybe they didn't know the 13th man was not a real player.

Ange says this is why she supports the arts. Jann Arden never loses by one point. I agree and will no longer watch sports. I'm gonna enjoy empty stores and block out Rider nonsense as white noise.

And FYI Montreal, bragging about this win is like bragging about screwing a girl you roofied.

If I Could Just Rewind

If you could rewind and go back in time, what would you do?
Tell yourself that one day it won't matter that Lesley always played with the better My Little Ponies?
That one day you would actually be friends with your sister instead of trying to send her back upstairs?
Maybe you would tell your younger self that your science project is not the end of the world; that you SHOULD go to bed earlier, or that you should definitely not let that greasy loser into your heart, or your pants.
Maybe you would go back and relive your engagement, your promotion, your wedding, your kid's birth?

If I could rewind time, I would go back One Year Ago.

That was the fateful day my life intertwined with my teen idol by only the most coincidental of chances.

I was looking for Dolly Parton.
He was looking for Ted Turner.
I was with my mom and sister.
He was with his bodyguards.
I was in town for a New Kids concert.
He WAS a New Kid.



Yes, Jordan Knight was standing in the same Chapters bookstore, in the same Edmonton mall, at the EXACT SAME TIME as me. Do you know what the chances of that are? You couldn't duplicate that if you wanted to. (And believe me, we tried.)

It's a moment I have relived a million times since then. His Boston accent. His slight frame and shortness. His dark hair. His politeness at the radio interview I am pretty sure I was giving him, if only in my own mind.

If I could rewind, I would ask to get a photo. If I could rewind, I would have said "Thank you for being the first boy I really fell in love with. Thank you for giving me something my 12-year-old friends and I could bond over. Thank you for not thinking I am entirely crazy for stalking you in this store."

The jarring reality is that the very event that started my idea for a blog and my re-obsession with my favorite boy band is a moment I can only relive online, here with you.

But there is always the possibility he might read this...I can always hope for that.

But then it got worse...

The only logical reason I can think of that this would exist, is because this company is ran by 12 year old boys.

Please Note: I DO NOT WANT this soap. Yes, this is poop soap. And can be yours for $9.98

But the ad warns: Soaps can vary slightly in shape and color--just like real ones...

OMG.

Another sign I spend too much time on the internet!

I'd always kinda thought, yeah I've seen it all. Like the type of mentality where not much should shock me anymore.

I mean I've seen everything from people having sex in the wide open feild next to the Craven exit to Jehovah Witness scrapbooking stickers to Jordan Knight in real life up close.

I thought I'd seen it all. Then I saw this:

Yes, those are pickle band-aids. You can buy them for $4.99. You can also get Bacon & Egg, Jesus, Scabs, Beef, and Kissy Lips...

I almost want to buy them and use them. Well, not just use them, but show them off. Like put one on my forehead, think of all the people who'd stare. It'd give them something to talk about when they got home. Or something to text while they stare!

Yeah, I'm gonna definitely put these on my Christmas Wish List!

WARNING: DISTURBING MATERIAL BELOW

So,you know how when you walk you keep your eyes open so you don't walk into wall, or trip??

Well, I was walking with my eyes open, I pushed open the women's bathroom door in the Watson gas station. With my eyes open because I don't want fall onto the gross bathroom floor.

I see an aboriginal women in her 50's. She is in the handicap stall, which is closest to the door (and in my immediate eyeline). She is standing there with the stall door wide open. She is almost standing up straight and pulling up her pants. Her national geographic vajayjay exposed.

I made a beeline for the other stall. I closed and locked the door while listening to her wash her hands. I was so shocked, I did what I do best: share too much information! So I whipped my cell phone out of my pocket, logged onto facebook and updated my status all before peeing! It said:

"Jennifer Hill Is so shocked by what she just saw in the watson bathroom i'm updating my status to tell everyone while i'm still in the stall! Gross"

It was so gross. So gross, I'm gonna start walking with my eyes closed.

Tropicana Adventures

One of my closest friends, Tera, and her boytoy Jay, own a chain of tanning salons. Tropicana Tans to be exact. And not only do they offer premium tanning with no stupid strings attached, they give me a deal!!!

They have a "Master Sun 360". It's the cadillac of tanning beds. 4-6 times the tan in one session!!! And it has less UVB rays, the ones that burn you, so you can stay in longer without the burn.

The tanning bed and I don't always get along. Laying flat on my back for ten minutes caused me some anguish. When the bed shut down and I went to push the lid open, I realized I could move my back. I'm naked and I can't move. Tera talked me into not wearing my underwear (even though I did wear my panties the first time, she assured me that my nipples wouldn't burn, plus being naked in public is weird). And now I can't friggin' move. And I can't reach anything to cover myself up, and even if I could all they have in the room is those stupid tiny hand towels. Like what the hell am I supposed to do with those?? I'm naked and I can't move. Slowly but surely, I got off the bed with enough groaning to make Tera think I was putting on a solo show. But don't worry, it's all worth it!

So after two sessions in their spaceship tanning bed, I'm sitting in Angela and Grant's kitchen in their half renovated curtainless house at the table playing on facebook, neglecting the dog's whine's for some of my delicious ribs and lifting up my shirt to look at how brown my once white belly has become.

I have become mesmorized at how tan I have become after only 20 minutes. I'm in awe of how this machine hasn't made them billions of dollars...yet! I just sit there and keep lifting up my shirt and rubbing my stomach. I didn't see anyone looking in the windows, but I'm sure someone saw. And I would bet my care bear purple penguin that every time they pass Ange and Grant's house now they look for the girl who lifts up her shirt and rubs her belly like some sort of buddha.

Anyway, the point of the story, my zebra boobies. So when a chesty girl like myself lays down, my boobs fall back and try to choke me. This also causes them to have a little roll of their own. So when I'm standing in the mirror admiring my brown boobs, I notice two white stripes on the outside edge of my boobs. From the stupid boob roll.

I have striped zebra style boobies. But I don't care. I love Tera, Jay and the MasterSun 360!

Banff. Through the Eyes of Grant's Cell Phone

Okay. Who are we kidding. It's MY cell phone, but Grant does use it occasionally. One such occasion was our trip to Banff. I was at a conference and he had some time to kill. Here's what he saw fit to photograph:

He tells me this guy was wearing shorts.

This was the bundle of sticks that was $30 at a craft store. He LOVED that.

This is why it's a National Park!

Parks Canada building.

Another beautiful mountain.

Yes Jen, there is a Booster Juice and a Louis Vutton in the same mall. (click to enlarge)

You can ALWAYS find a place to drink.

Grant was pretty sure the Bay went bankrupt. I said that was Eatons and Woolco.

Downtown.

Even the alleys are nicer in the mountains.

Our hotel.

Outside our hotel.

What was surprising to me is that there is NO Tim Hortons in Banff. Not one. I found this unusual considering the nauseating amount of Canadian-isms all over the place.

In fact, I had no idea that Canada was so full of dreamcatchers, stuffed polar bears/grizzly bears/foxes/moose/elk, RCMP in red serges, log cabins, bacon and maple leaves. All that and not ONE Tim Hortons? Second Cup and Starbucks are clearly not Canadian enough to fit into this scene.

The other interesting note is that there were very few "Canadians" in sight. Now, before you paint me as a racist, I realize "we are all immigrants" blah-blah-blah, but really, every single person we talked to had a distinct accent! Australians? Check. Swedes? Check. Japanese? Check. Brits? Check. Americans? Yup - check!

Excuse me, but where is my maple-leaf-waving-bacon-eating-Canadian-accented-red-serge-wearing-RCMP? Is he snuggled with the stuffed moose on his mantle in his log cabin with the bear rug under the watch of a dreamcatcher? Must be. He doesn't have any Timmies to keep him going.

As in Jolie and Aniston?

I have been learning all about social media and blogs. I was at a conference in Banff for the International Association of Business Communicators, and the topic of social media was a hot one.

Anyway, it got me wondering how easy it would be to stumble upon our blog if you searched "Ange and Jen" on Google.

Well, you don't get our blog.

You get hundreds of references to Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston though. The funny thing is, several of them could be totally applicable to sibling relationships.

For example:
"Ange and Jen. It's war." (We don't go to war too often, if ever, but there is always potential.)

"Ange's fury - Jen's secret meeting with Brad's mum." (Okay, maybe not this one.)

"Ange - another Jen dig." (Yup, I totally pick on her.)

"Jen on Ange, finally." (Is this as dirty as it sounds??)

"Ange and Jen send mags into a frenzy" (We wish!!)

If you want to find us, Google 'Ange and Jen have a blog'...then it comes up second. Jen and Ange--the OTHER famous Jen and Ange--still get the top spot.

It's hard being not-quite-famous. But I can live with that.

Mmmm Moxie's

I hate hot waiters.

You know when you go to Moxie's, order an appetizer, a "Moxie-sized" Peach Bellini, supper, and then have dessert, and while you know you're being a pig by eating a weeks worth of calories in a week, you don't want to be judged by the waiter you're pretty sure used to be an actor on Bold and the Beautiful.

Want the half order? No, the full order... Would you like the sample size? No, the full size... And I would like another refill.

I hate hot waiters, I hate thinking about what they are thinking while they check on me "to see if everything's ok" and I have a mouthful of food. Yeah, I have a mouthful of food, where else do think I would put food. You'd really be judging me if I was eating it through my ears.

I hate wondering if they are betting with the other waiters if I can really eat it all. I hate hot waiters and how they smile with their hotness for a good tip and how they smell almost as good as the food.

I feel like I should eat half my burger and take the other half home... and by home, I mean eating it in the car in the parking lot.

Dear Moxie's, I'd like you to hire an ugly waiter, with acne scars, bald spots, yellow crooked teeth and twenty five extra pounds. Thanks, Jen

Jen's Bucket List

I'm almost 25 years old, it's time I really get living and start crossing things off my bucket list. It's not too long though, this is what my Bucket List consists of:

1. Learning to Surf

2. Being on the Ellen Degeneress Show

3. Visiting every state in the US for at least a week to see all the cool tourist attractions

4. To spend my 60th Birthday on a nude beach in Europe

5. Keep a secret and only tell it to postsecret.com

6. Climb a Mountain, like a real one.

7. Sing on the opry stage where Reba, Dolly, Garth and George have sang. Even if it's during my week in Tennessee and I have to pull a weapon on a security guard.

8. Deliver a baby or perform a surgery on someone other than myself

9. Scubadive with dolphins, whales and sharks

10. Get a tv show with my sister, of course!

When I went back and read the top ten, I realized that my freak flag might be waving a little too high, but who cares!

A Big Dose of Adorable!

This is Brooklyn Holm. The world's cutest and happiest baby. Also, Jennifer's new obsession. Oh, and that's Brooklyn's puppy.

There is so much sweet in this picture, I have a tooth ache.

Halloween 2009 - Year of the Mini Wheat

Yeah, you heard that sound too?? I guess, it was pretty loud.

It was me reaching a new level of awesome.

My name is ... Lisa?

So Jennifer has started calling me Agnes, because she can't type Ange, and she thinks it suits me as an "old" person (hmpf...that's 24 year olds for ya...) ...sometimes I get Michele because I guess I inherited some of my mom's appearance...sometimes Amanda or Andrea instead of Angela. But never, EVER Lisa.

Yes --"Lisa."

Today we were out car shopping. Well, actually truck shopping that turned into truck AND car shopping. Anyway, we went into pretty well all the dealerships, and at one particular one, we introduced ourselves to the saleman, and then went for a test drive.

As we were getting in, my husband whispers to me, "He thinks you're Lisa." I hadn't noticed yet, but sure enough, not once, but twice, on the test drive, he called me Lisa! I didn't have the heart to correct him because he was quite nice and courteous, and well, I wasn't going to buy that car anyway.

When we bought our current car, I started calling it Fanny. It just suits it. It started because we bought the same car as Auntie Faye. I didn't want to insult sweet Auntie Faye by naming my car after her, so I settled for Fanny. And it stuck.

When I signed my life away on the car I bought today (not with the Lisa salesman, but that had nothing to do with that), I decided it needed a suitable name too. Not too flashy, not too granny-ish. Something nice and normal. Maybe even sophisticated.

Like, maybe...Lisa.

10 things you (maybe) didn't know about Jen

1. I copy good ideas from people and never give them credit if I don't think they'll find out.

2. I love haunted houses but hate being scared. I scream the whole way through one.

3. I love reliving the past with stupid movies like "Off to Grandma's House We Go" or "Double Double Toil and Trouble" or just story telling with Angela, or Erika and Krista (my BFF's)

4. Maya Angelou has incredible quotes that can cheer me up or give me new perspective

5. I can remember specific dates even when nothing in particular happened on them

6. When I moved out on my own I had to stop watching scary movies. I still can't watch them by my self.

7. I used to share my birthday with my Grandpa Hill. He was April 4 and I was April 5. That was the only thing I ever like sharing.

8. I can't get the pictures on my phone off. I'm still baffled to this day and my phone is 2 years old.

9. I have kissed more than one boy on the same night.

10. Equality and Justice are most important to me. So, it really pisses me off that Aboriginal people and Inmates are getting the H1N1 vaccine before the public who actually PAY the taxes.

**This was originally supposed to be 5 things, but I'm really really interesting!

Before we blogged ...

... we sat in the laundry basket.

Zeke

I realize I talk about Zeke in our 'About Us' profile, but I don't blog about him nearly enough. Here's my latest favorite picture.

Organizer Ange

Wow! We have passed the 100th blog! I can't believe we have found that much to say. Well, actually I can. We can both talk alot, and blogs are free --except the cost of computers and the internet, of course.

Since we're talking about superpowers, the other half of Encyclopedia Jen would be Organizer Ange. It's a gift. I have had it since birth. I thought for a long time that all people had perfectly organized things, but I found out at about age 7 or 8 going over to Bonnie's and Gaylene's to play that this was not true (no offense - your houses were fun, they just weren't organized).

So what does that mean?
My CDs are alphabetical.
My scrapbook paper is separated into the ROY G BIV color scheme.
My photos are all in albums or scrapbooks, chronologically.
My clothes (and Grants) are hung up short-sleeved, long-sleeved, t-shirts, dress shirts, darkest to lightest in each section.
Papers and bills are read, dealt with and put into my alphabetical filing cabinet - one drawer for me, one drawer for Grant. Or, they go into the recycle bin in the kitchen or office.
Everything I have to do is written in a daytimer, and/or added to the kitchen calendar and/or added to my work BlackBerry.

I sort, label, categorize and organize EVERYTHING. I am not sure if this is a superpower or an illness that would make for a good episode of an A&E reality show.

Encyclopedia Jen

Yeah, the title, that's what my super hero name would be.

The retrieval system in my brain works really really well and coupled with my photographic memory, I pretty much know everything. And if I don't, I can fake it unbelievably well.

This is a great super power. I can recall details from the 1929 Famous 5 "Person's Case", the Universal Declaration of BullShit this and Legal Policy Tort law-that, The history of Britney Spears, Reba, Lindsanity Lohan and, of course, every Halloween costume I've worn since birth.

But like all super powers, there's always a downside. People constantly ask me stuff. All the time, non stop, and it's so inconvenient, especially since I'm becoming an Ogre.

Can people not see, I'm busy and working on one of the hundred essays I have due??

Are they so consumed with their selfish questions that I can't have 5 minutes interrupted??

When I don't look at you or initiate conversation, that means that maybe I want some "quiet time". If I say "Hi "and then turn back to my work, it's because I want to work!!!!

What classes are you taking next semester? Do they offer Human Development, SW 420 here? When does the H1N1 vaccine come out? What are the qualifications for Pogey? What's that movie called with that voice? What are you being for Halloween? How do make a dirty hooker? What's the box number for the Journal?

I'm taking NS 101, SW 347, SW 421, SW 417. I don't work here, so I don't know if SW 420 is offered. There is no set date yet for the vaccinations and I'm not a health care provider, so I only know what's on the news. I don't work for EI, so I don't know if you can get pogey. That movie is House Bunny. I'm being a Mini Wheat for Halloween. 1/2 red sour puss, 1/2 creme de banane. Box 1300.

Okay, anything else you need to know?

#100

This our 100th Post!

Wow, it's been quite a year. And reflecting on past posts, I'm so happy my sister created this blog for us. I know I'm too lazy to have ever started this, and now it's Ange who seems to be less inspired to write new blogs... HINT HINT.

Thank to our 2 readers - Mom and Heather (aka the Gayle to our Oprah). We love your feedback!

Stay Tuned for more Rants, Lists and Stories!!

Wanted: Someone to live with

I think I could live with anyone. I am a very clean person. I'm happy, easy going and tend to be very independent. I spend most of my time with the Staff of Seattle Grace hospital and my friends on Wisteria Lane. I also have a lot of nice things that I could possibly let you use, if I deem you responsible enough (ex. SlapChop and Graty).

What I can't live with are everyone's friggin' mental disorders. I don't want to live with all the voices in your head!!

For a little while, I can repeat my mantra to my self "They can't help it, they are mentally challenged. It's not their fault, it's the disease talking". I've tested this tactic, and after 6 months, it runs out.

I need a roomie who doesn't have any mental or emotional health problems.

If you fit this description, please email me.

Quick Question --

Do you still have to repay your loans when you're in jail?

I'm scared to research this because on a bad day, this answer could push me over the edge.

I worked in a bank for two years, you think I'd know. I have tens of thousands of dollars of debt, and next to no income.

So jail, getting my sweet revenge against the rampantly stupid, could have an upside. I don't have to clean a big house. I don't have to live with any gross boys. I get meals provided. I don't have to pay rent.

Really, I just have to worry about the jail yard throwdown to earn my ranks. And bitch better step off 'cuz I have been know to create mental warfare.

So now the big question -- What should my crime be??

I don't have any priors, I could probably commit a few crimes before I have to serve time...

**Please note, I am not a criminal and do not seriously plan to become one. But if you rat on me, I will mess you up. Got it?**

If I Was On Intervention...

...it would be because I am addicted to sugar.
I can't get enough.
I even use it's related cousins: glucose, fructose, and corn syrup.

Yup, I think it started at a young age when Grandma Nelson had the candy drawer. I think really it was just the drawer she threw gum and other junk in, but to me it was definitely the candy drawer. Even now, she always has candies of some kind on the table. And Grandpa Hill always gave me Juicy Fruit gum. I mean, c'mon, that's just sugar in a stick!

Today was a pretty good day actually. I only had sugar in my coffee, a butter tart, and brown sugar fudge from the craft fair. But that's because I am buying groceries tomorrow and I will stock up on my supply of chocolate and gummy-sugary jujubes of some sort, and I will have to eat that last piece of rhubarb crisp too.

I'm Angela. A-N-G-E-L-A.
I'm addicted to sugar.
I would snort it, shoot it, and smoke it, but mainly I just eat it everyday.

Wanted: Mental Health Therapist.

Okay, for the past week I've been getting phone calls from random friends. And I don't always feel its mandatory to answer them.

I think I'm kinda becoming introverted. Which isn't really like me. I have a very bubbly, happy personality.

Why am I becoming introverted?? Because it's too much damn work to be nice to people and try and force conversation. I'd rather not put forth the effort.

So instead of having to be nice, I'm lazy and don't answer the phone. I don't want to resent my friends because they called, I felt obligated to answer it and it pissed me off.

I'd actually like it if I wasn't interrupted at all. Send a text or an email and I'll deal with it in my own sweet time when I feel like it, ok?!

If I was on Intervention...

it would be because I'm a gossip whore.

I can't get enough celebrity gossip.

I once mistakenly refered to a conversation between Madonna and Oprah as "I was just talking with someone about that". No, I hadn't it, I saw it on Oprah...

I love Perez. I think he and I could be best friends. He's mean out of truthfulness, like me. He's honest, like me. He's funny, like me. We both stand up for what we believe in. We could totally be besties.

If you add in a little TMZ and people magazine, you get what the first hour of my day looks like. I'm a complete know it all in regards to Britney, Lindsay, Jon and Kate, and pretty much everyone else.

I'm Jennifer. J E N N I F E R and I'm addicted to gossip. I would snort it, shoot it, smoke it and swallow it up everyday, but luckily, I can save my nostrils, veins, throat and stomach 'cuz I can just read it.

Our Brother - Corey

Corey has the "Hill Charm" as it has affectionately been dubbed by his ex-girlfriends. Corey is smart and very charasmatic, and by this picture, he's not ugly (although, I did tell him he was for the 15 years of his life).

So tonight when we were interogating him we shouldn't have been surprised with how the conversation went.

It starts with Mom asking "Where are you going?"

"The bar" (Isn't this obvious on a Saturday night??)

"Well how do you afford to buy drinks at the bar?"

Corey said, "I know both bartenders" (Yep, the big Melfort bar, we have 2 bartenders!)

Mom countered with "Well, but who pays for those?"

Corey answered, "I pay for it in the morning!"

I love Hannah Montana.

I'm not ashamed. It's a really good tv show and Miley Cyrus is very talented.

This morning after I woke up, I tuned into the family channel to catch an episode. My grandma sat out on the couch and after about 10 minutes of this childrens television show, she asks "Is this Guiding Light?"

"No Grandma, it's Hannah Montana", I replied.

I don't think Guiding Light, an adult's soap opera, which is off the air now, should get confused with Hannah Montana. Whatever.

She probably just thinks they are the same because they have big necklaces.

Grandma really like those stylish big necklaces. She wants to get one when she turns 80.

We told her she didn't have to wait 5 years.

No, I didn't murder anyone so close your mouth.

So, I don't plan on having kids, for lots of reasons people want to argue with. This is not a debate, it's my decision. However, it's been proven that they make your life miserable.

• They drain your money.
• They steal your freedom.
• They ruin your relationships, especially your marriage.
• They are non-stop work. Who wants a 24/7 job?? With no PAY??
• Children are loud and do not come with Mute buttons.
• They touch things.
• They can not be controlled 100%.
• They will mess up my whole life which I love.

Now now, before you get your panties knot, I know kids are wonderful, they are a blessing. I love kids, they say funny things and are adorable with a clean face, but I also love giving them back to their parents. Apparently once you have them all the other stuff doesn't matter.

Except, I don't have them, so all those other things really DO matter.

Maybe in 10 years I'll change my mind.

But for now, I am requesting when people inquire about my fertility or desire to pop out mini monsters, when I reply "I don't plan to have kids" that they please stop looking at me like I've just confessed to a mass slaughtering.

Thanks, I'd appreciate that.

To The Rude Bike Dude

Dear Rude Bike Dude,
I know that because the law says you can ride on the street that you feel entitled to do so.
I also know that I am in a car and can run your ass over at any time.

So, until you can go 80 km/h turning from the Lewvan onto Parliament Ave, you might want to reconsider calling me "Lady!" and informing me that I can't pull up next to you.

In fact, I can. There are two lanes. And I ain't waiting for your eco-cycling hippie ass to cross the street just because YOU think I should.

So, for next time, please be prepared for me to run you over. Fannie is a force to be reckoned with.

Thank you,
Angela

I think we're getting closer...

to getting our tv show!! The Penguins of Madagascar are getting their own show, so I'm sure it'll be a short jump to us!

Angela and I have been compared to the Penguins from the Madagascar movies. And, well, if you've ever met us or been on a trip with us, it is fair to say it's an accurate comparison.

We always have a plan. And when the plan breaks, we find a creative alternative. We use what we have, (like tongs and a flashlight to open a locked car door) for a quick fix. We do what is nessessary to get things done, even if it isn't pleasant (walking around and digging in the mud for car keys). Just like the penguins, everything we do is a mission, or maybe an adventure. Also, like the penguins, we are constantly opposed by people who are plagued by rampant stupidity, (even if the penguins case, it's just a trio of lemurs).

Together Angela and I form tactis and act as strategists and gadgeteers (I have a slap-chop). We both have different skill sets too. I'm more cool headed and calculating. Angela is the emotional one. I'm sometimes prone to accidents. I'm also appointing myself as the weapons and explosives specialist. I have a knife. I found it in my car. I used to keep it in my purse, but my Mom took it away. Angela is the communicator and unlike some of the penguins, she uses more than just grunts and squeals. Neither of us, is a "Rico" (my favorite penguin) who swallows useful tools, such as dynamite, and regurgitates them when needed.

We are a little different from the penguins too. Obviously, Angela and I are humans and not cartoon. The Penguins have 4 characters, while Angela and I, can get everything done with only 2 of us!

So, now we just have to wait for some tv network to want to find people who are like the penguins! I know I'll be waiting for casting call...

The Bat Cave

Whenever Grant and I went to see a new listing, he always looked for some oddball feature - a hallway that didn't go anywhere, a hidden room, a haunted toolshed, that sorta thing.

When we saw the house we bought, this is what we saw in the basement:









But don't let your eyes deceive you.
Look closer:














Wait for it....

The

Secret

Room!!



Hence, "the bat cave"!














Our realtor wanted to buy him a sign that said "No girls allowed!" Funny or what?!!

And yes, eventually we will tear this out!

This. Is. Teeny. Turner.

Okay, so my first housewarming gift came from Grant's co-worker. She bought this for me.

It's the Cutest. Thing. Ever.

It's a teeny screwdriver. Hence, Teeny Turner. Trust me, it's on there.

The real Tina Turner.

I figured it out!

How to get Angela and I a tv show, I mean. It just kinda hit me (like all my genuis ideas).

The key to getting a tv show is Oprah.

I'm not sure, if we just ask, if she can work her magic. Or if we need to befriend her. Perhaps we can use our hilarity and wisdom to impress her. Who knows, once I get my helicopter, maybe I can bribe with a free ride!

I mean, lets face it O was behind Dr. Phil, and now Gayle and Dr Oz are both getting shows too.

This really seems like the most logical and efficient way to go about getting a tv show.

And I mean if she says No, we can always ask her to get us elected as Co-Prime Ministers. I know Ange and I could sort that shit out!

Floral Curtain Count

One.
Okay, technically it's a lacy-butterfly motif, but close enough.




Two.
Master bedroom. Complete with wallpaper that I have NO idea how to remove.

Three.
And a throw rug. It's not covering anything; it's just in the middle of the room. Note the '60s decorative entry thingy. Like, WTF. And when Dad took the fake plant down, it pretty much blew into smithereens. Good times.

Did I mention the "Bat Cave?"
That's next. Maybe for tomorrow's blog entries. I think Jen and I have done enough blogging for one night!

Just in case you have a breastfeeding emergency

Okay, so, my grandparents do this too: if there is an important paper they want to save, they tape it to the inside of the cupboard door.


Imagine my surprise (well, not, really), when I was checking the cupboards for junk, and I found two papers; one was emergency contact numbers. The other was information on breastfeeding.


Yup. Breastfeeding. In MY new kitchen. Kinda ironic for a childless-by-choice 31-year-old, don't 'cha think? Like, is God saying "You MUST have babies, and when they need breastfeeding, here is the nearest La Leche meeting?"


I know the former owners had teenage boys, so I presume this had been up there awhile!

Craven 2009 After Thought

Jen: I feel like one of those dolls where you press the stomach and it lights up.

Ange: A glo-worm?

Jen: Yeah

I'm wearing the sleeping bag that luckily, for the past three years I've been to lazy to remove from the trunk of my car. I zipped myself right in there thinking it'd be warm. Turns out the Bargain Shop isn't big on wind resistant quality.

Our new house. Or, all the stuff I took to the dump today.

Yes, this is our new home.

It's a fixer upper, for sure.

I am looking forward to renovating it, although I know it will be an endless money pit.

Note the cutesy folk-art mailbox. I was going to tear it off until I learned from the neighbor that it was hand-crafted by the former owner's wife who died of cancer. How can I take it down now??

See the sign that says "Every birdy welcome"?

Well, excuse me, not every one is welcome actually, so we took the sign down.

Hubby and dad at the dump - a 1/2 ton full!

Still to come, the "bat cave", the adventures of "what's-in-the-compost-bin", and "how many types of floral curtains ARE there?"

Growing Up Jennifer (its not easy, but it sure was fun)

As a kid, I was always mesmorized and jealous of the other kids who could draw the five point star with one line. I spent so much time trying to figure it out. When one night lying in my bed in my room covered with pink and white polka dots and Minnie Mouse, it hit me. I got out of bed, grabbed a pencil and paper, while my mom watched in confusion. I proceeded to draw a star. I was so proud of myself I finally fell asleep when I went back to bed.

I was scared to fall asleep because I was worried. I was worried that there were ghosts under my bed. I thought it was because my bed was on a frame with a metal headboard that there were obviously ghosts underneath it. And I also worried about a robber climbing in my bedroom window and stepping on my bed. I eventually lined up all my stuff animals along the wall on my bed underneath the window, and left the stuffed dog on the floor and convince myself, that they would all come to life if I was in danger.

Another strong memory I have growing up is learning to tie my shoes. My parents, of course, tried and tried to teach me, but it wasn't until I wanted to ditch kindergarten sharing time on the rug (because my sharing time was done and I was the only person my 5 year old self cared about), I actually learned. I went to the bathroom to kill some time while ditching class and while sitting on the toilet, it just hit me, completely out of the blue. And I've been able to tie my shoes ever since.

Anyway, there's some insight into my childhood!

Somebody stop me...

from online shopping.

Dear Lord, if I don't cut up my credit cards I'm going to have start trafficking Tim Horton's XL double doubles and start a Taco In A Bag stand to pay for tuition.

Please help me control myself from wanting to indulge in book that only cost a penny online at amazon.ca.

Do not let me create any more excuses to buy television offered products. I'm sure my slap chop will be great, and I'll love the free graty. However, I will survive without the windsheild wonder. Right?? It's just that it would be so helpful and convenient... I can not buy one, even if I have the toll free number memorized.

Thank you for your help, Jennifer

This is how we roll...

Meet Fannie, the Chevrolet Impala. She's clean, roomy, carries us on crazy concert chasing adventures and never breaks down, especially not anywhere near Davidson.

Angela doesn't blog much...

because we don't have New Kids related concerts or cruises to attend.

It's ok. I get it.

I can't believe it's almost been a year since we met Jordan that fateful day in Chapters...

brought together in the biography section, by Dolly Parton and Ted Turner.

Thanks Dolly.

Craven 2009

Well, it's been quite a few weeks since Craven and neither Angela nor I, have updated our blog. The feeling has returned to my fingers since freezing at Craven and I thought I would share our experience.

Friday: Angela and I drove around for an hour trying to find Mike, Lori and Dwayne. By the time we find them, Angela gets a call and has to go back into town... Yeah, so by the time we get back out to Craven from Regina, we heard the last of the Bellamy Bros. But Kellie Pickler and Taylor Swift made the night worth it. Taylor Swift put on a show that was similar to Reba during the 90's. It wasn't a concert, it was a show. It was also a show in the mud, in freezing cold weather with very cool winds. We tried to stay warm by dancing, but it didn't help.
Angela also got hit on. When he asked her name, she told him her REAL name!! But then lied about where she lived. (The next day we both discussed our alter egos in case anyone asked: Janelle and Amanda)

Saturday: More rain... which makes for more mud! Thank god for $1 ponchos and rubber boots. Joe Diffie, Joe Nichols, and Clint Black were also worth wearing a sleeping bag. Angela and I also wore our matching Dolly tank tops!
This was night that Angela wanted to have baileys and coffee to warm up. So at Lori and Dwayne's camper, we had a drink... and made a new friend. Although, I don't recall his name, he was a teacher/councellor/psychic from Meadow Lake. He asked Lori and Dwayne if I was there daughter (they said No since I'm not, and Lori and I are only 7 years in age difference), then he asked if I was single... (And they said YES... geez don't say that). And knowing I was out of his league, he had to check to see if I was "lonely", to which Dwayne replied "Oh Yeah, and Horny too". Thanks Dwayne.
Some of things he said included: looking at Ange and saying "Oh she's cute too", "Let him go, once you let go, you'll just say WOW" , "Am I right or am I wrong, I'm right" to me, even though he just found out I was single. And trying to say goodnight after an hour conversation of him standing in the door way of the camper, he started up with "I haven't slept yet... I'm 43 and I look better than this guy (Dwayne)". He definitely gave us a laugh!

Sunday: and God said "Let there be warmth on Craven, SK". I had McDonalds on Sunday, but they didn't have ketchup, so Ange went back home and got some, because after six months with no McD's, sh'e want some friggin' ketchup too. Jason Blaine, Jake Owen (my new boyfriend), Billy Ray, and George Strait were all great in their own way. Meaning, I would be embarassed to be Billy Ray and be such a tool. I much prefer Robby Ray Stewart on Hannah Montana. Yeah, I like Hannah Montana.

Overall, Craven was great (although, I don't know if Angela remembers through all the rum she drank). It was the best Craven ever, even though it really wasn't. Angela and I have our tickets for next year, Kenny Chesney and Taco In A Bag...

But one thing is for sure, I will not work at 9 am the Monday morning after Craven.