Well, we've had quite a bit of snow fall around here the last few days. No snow today, but is bitterly cold. We're supposed to be getting more snow tomorrow. You have to keep in mind that while snow is common around here on the mountains and more into the Interior, it's not something we usually get a lot of in the Lower Mainland. Naturally, I couldn't help myself, so I've taken some pictures of our winter wonderland.
This is a picture of the younger boys playing in the snow in the front yard the night it started falling.
Here younger boys and dad have just come home from school on Monday. I didn't quite get the van completely cleared of snow.
This is a photo taken from the front of our house looking down the street. I just happened to catch a truck sliding sideways on the icy road.
This picture was taken from the little bridge we have to walk over to get to the kids' school. The slough looked so pretty.
And this picture is taken from our livingroom window looking out across the street.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Ho Ho Holiday Parade
So the boys and I went downtown today to march in the 3rd Annual Santa Claus Parade in Vancouver. We were invited to march with the Children's Wish Foundation. The weather was supposed to be terrible [a storm warning with strong winds and rain], but we decided that we'd dress for bad weather and go anyway. Well, a couple of minutes before the parade started, the clouds parted and the sun began shining. It actually turned out to be a gorgeous day. My favorite part of the day was being able to get a couple of pictures of the boys with some Jaffa from Stargate [filmed here in BC; they had a float in the parade].
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Crusts and Spam
My youngest son has an aversion to crusts. He won't eat the crust on bread or toast. Lots of kids don't; they'll ask a parent to trim off the crusts. My youngest son, however, has taken this dislike of crusts to a bizzare extreme. The other day I made some pizza bagels. Cut a bagel in half, spread pizza sauce on it, smother in cheese and then bake. Below is a picture of my son's plate after he had finished eating.
So just how does one determine what the "crust" is on a bagel half? Isn't it all crust?
On a different topic, have you ever received that nonsense spam? When you open it up there is some weird and strange message/story in there? Incomplete sentences and general linguistic oddities? Normally, folks would just trash that kind of stuff. Well, someone has decided to take those spam messages and turn them into works of art. Check out "Spamland#1" on YouTube. This is the best use of spam that I have ever seen.
So just how does one determine what the "crust" is on a bagel half? Isn't it all crust?
On a different topic, have you ever received that nonsense spam? When you open it up there is some weird and strange message/story in there? Incomplete sentences and general linguistic oddities? Normally, folks would just trash that kind of stuff. Well, someone has decided to take those spam messages and turn them into works of art. Check out "Spamland#1" on YouTube. This is the best use of spam that I have ever seen.
Monday, October 02, 2006
It's Not Fair
Today's been a hard day for me. I learned that Jon David [5-year-old] passed away this morning. He had been diagnosed and was battling the same type of cancer that my Luke had fought. Jon's mom had sent me an old laptop of hers a couple of months back. She'd read my post about how difficult it is for Luke to write and how it was thought that a laptop would really help him in his school work. Without hesitation, she sent me hers. I carry it to and from school every day. I set it up in the classroom. Today, I was thankful that there weren't too many people around because I couldn't stop the tears from flowing as I packed it up to take it home. It's not fair. No child, no family, should ever have to go through this. I try and find comfort in picturing Jon in his Superman pajamas and Diego in his Spiderman pajamas playing together with laughter in the eternal light. But then my heart aches for the families left behind. It's not fair.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
SC in September
Fun night on the 9th. Went to SC with DH.
Had a friend, Sue, come over to do my makeup for the evening. She works in the film industry, so I let her do whatever she wanted. I think she did a smashing job. There was lots of glitter that made everything sparkle. I felt like a Fairy Queen.
We had a great time at SC. We always do. Love meeting new people. It's also great running into folks that we already know (kiss kiss to you if you're reading this).
Below is a pic of DH and I at SC. This is after a couple of hours and you'll notice that my makeup is still holding up. You rock, Sue! Now, if I could only get my regular makeup to last as well ...
Had a friend, Sue, come over to do my makeup for the evening. She works in the film industry, so I let her do whatever she wanted. I think she did a smashing job. There was lots of glitter that made everything sparkle. I felt like a Fairy Queen.
We had a great time at SC. We always do. Love meeting new people. It's also great running into folks that we already know (kiss kiss to you if you're reading this).
Below is a pic of DH and I at SC. This is after a couple of hours and you'll notice that my makeup is still holding up. You rock, Sue! Now, if I could only get my regular makeup to last as well ...
Saturday, September 02, 2006
What Happens in Vegas…
Supposedly stays in Vegas. However, that would be a shame. I don’t mind letting everyone I know about how much fun I had. There’s something to be said about the destination, but I have no doubt that my traveling companion had a lot to do with it. I don’t think there was a day that went by in Vegas that didn’t come with me laughing so hard that I was crying. I also can’t say enough good things about all the people we met. Such a welcoming and friendly bunch of folks. While the rooms at Treasure Island were really nice [I swear the bathtubs are small pools], it’s actually the staff [housecleaning in particular] that will have me coming back. Them and those perfect drinks. *laughs*
August 24th, 2006 - Last Day in Vegas
We get up around 8:30 a.m. After we showered and dressed, made sure that our bags were properly packed. Headed down to the front desk and checked out. We had the hotel hold our bags because we still had a few hours to kill before our shuttle bus was coming to pick us up. So we went for breakfast in some restaurant off of the Kahuna Lounge. After that, we went back to the Venetian where I bought a couple of tank tops that I had taken a liking to. Then we went back to TI and Dawna and I played some slots. Not sure if it was because it was Dawna’s birthday that day or if it was just a chemistry thing, but Dawna found a nice slot machine that just wanted to keep paying her money.
She gets enough points on her player’s card [never mind how much money she won] to get a free t-shirt.
Finally, it’s time to go and catch the shuttle bus. Off to the airport.
When we get to the airport we have to wait in a long line to get our tickets. We talked with the other folks waiting in line. After that, it’s off to go through airport security. Not sure if it was because it was Dawna’s birthday that day or if it was just a chemistry thing, but Dawna was the lucky recipient of a random search. Which was probably a good thing, because it distracted her from getting too worked up when her carry-on luggage was also being flagged at that moment for a more thorough search too.
The airport security person went through everything until we finally came down to a small plastic bag in which Dawna had accidentally left a very small lip gloss. She was heart broken. A brand new lip gloss [MAC make-up]. The thought of it going in the garbage made her feel sick so she was asking the security person if she wanted it. She politely explained that she couldn’t [against regulations]. Then the security person went above and beyond the scope of her duties and gave us an option of Dawna being able to mail the lip gloss back to herself. She pointed us to a machine where we could buy stamps and address an envelope and then drop it in the mail box right there. She helped us get that all together and mailed off. She made an embarrassing and frustrating situation so much more bearable [dare I even say “almost pleasant”?]. I have to remember to write to her employers and tell them to give her a pat on the back.
We found the smoking room and sat down. We encountered a gentleman who had come in to Vegas at the same time as us. He told us that he had come to Vegas with $5,000 and that he had gambled all but $25 away. That morning, he figures he might as well finish it all off so he plays his last $25 on the slots and ends up winning over $4,000. While he was still down, at least it wasn’t as bad of a loss as it was shaping up to be.
On the way to our boarding gate we pass a police officer stationed in the hall. I ask him if he’d mind if we took pictures of ourselves with him. You know, a tourist thing. So I take a picture of Dawna with him. Then Dawna takes a picture of me with him. Next thing I know, an airport security guard is marching over to us quickly. I’m thinking “Oh, crap. We’re doing something wrong; we’re going to get in trouble.”
Security guard stops in front of us. Stands there for a minute, then says “Don’t you want a picture with both of you in it? I’ll take it for you.”
So we were able to get a photo of us both with the officer.
We board our plane. It takes off and we head home. I don’t actually get to my front door until around 1:00 a.m., where two oldest boys and my husband are there to greet me with great big hugs.
She gets enough points on her player’s card [never mind how much money she won] to get a free t-shirt.
Finally, it’s time to go and catch the shuttle bus. Off to the airport.
When we get to the airport we have to wait in a long line to get our tickets. We talked with the other folks waiting in line. After that, it’s off to go through airport security. Not sure if it was because it was Dawna’s birthday that day or if it was just a chemistry thing, but Dawna was the lucky recipient of a random search. Which was probably a good thing, because it distracted her from getting too worked up when her carry-on luggage was also being flagged at that moment for a more thorough search too.
The airport security person went through everything until we finally came down to a small plastic bag in which Dawna had accidentally left a very small lip gloss. She was heart broken. A brand new lip gloss [MAC make-up]. The thought of it going in the garbage made her feel sick so she was asking the security person if she wanted it. She politely explained that she couldn’t [against regulations]. Then the security person went above and beyond the scope of her duties and gave us an option of Dawna being able to mail the lip gloss back to herself. She pointed us to a machine where we could buy stamps and address an envelope and then drop it in the mail box right there. She helped us get that all together and mailed off. She made an embarrassing and frustrating situation so much more bearable [dare I even say “almost pleasant”?]. I have to remember to write to her employers and tell them to give her a pat on the back.
We found the smoking room and sat down. We encountered a gentleman who had come in to Vegas at the same time as us. He told us that he had come to Vegas with $5,000 and that he had gambled all but $25 away. That morning, he figures he might as well finish it all off so he plays his last $25 on the slots and ends up winning over $4,000. While he was still down, at least it wasn’t as bad of a loss as it was shaping up to be.
On the way to our boarding gate we pass a police officer stationed in the hall. I ask him if he’d mind if we took pictures of ourselves with him. You know, a tourist thing. So I take a picture of Dawna with him. Then Dawna takes a picture of me with him. Next thing I know, an airport security guard is marching over to us quickly. I’m thinking “Oh, crap. We’re doing something wrong; we’re going to get in trouble.”
Security guard stops in front of us. Stands there for a minute, then says “Don’t you want a picture with both of you in it? I’ll take it for you.”
So we were able to get a photo of us both with the officer.
We board our plane. It takes off and we head home. I don’t actually get to my front door until around 1:00 a.m., where two oldest boys and my husband are there to greet me with great big hugs.
August 23rd, 2006 - Fourth Day in Vegas
Today we got up around 9:00 a.m. after having our first real good night’s sleep since arriving in Las Vegas. We had to be at Bally’s for the Price is Right show by 2:00 p.m. as the show started at 2:30. So we left TI around 11:00 a.m. and caught a cab over to Bally’s.
We found a nice little restaurant to grab something to eat. Met a very sweet server named Michelle who was in a lot of pain [passing kidney stones]. She showed us a picture of her husband who had recently graduated school to become a radiation technologist and that they’d both soon be moving to Phoenix. I hope she has a smooth transition to her new home [and free from pain]. Dawna and I joked around with her that she could moonlight as a tour guide in Vegas. Such a funny lady.
After lunch, we went and got our seats for the Price is Right show. It was an absolute riot. Laughed at the “I’ve got crabs” t-shirt. Was a bit creeped out by the cemetery worker. Cheered on the young man from Long Island who won a trip. By the time the show was over, my throat was sore and I had pretty much lost my voice from shouting such memorable lines as “higher” and/or “lower.” Out in the lobby, Dawna and I got our picture taken with the “cast.”
After that, we took a shuttle bus over to Rio. Neither of us cared much for that hotel. I did find the girl dancing on the slot machines to be quite humorous. Although, I felt bad that no one [except for Dawna and I] seemed to notice that she was there.
From Rio, we caught a cab over to the Palms hotel.
We signed up for a player’s card and then went over to the Hart & Huntington Tattoo Company in the hotel. I sign up to get a tattoo done. You can’t make an appointment; it’s done on a first come first serve basis. This is at around 7:00 p.m. and the wait looks like I won’t get in until around 11:00 p.m. Dawna and I buy some t-shirts. Dawna gets an autograph by Dizzle for her husband [he spells the name wrong]. We go and play some slots. Then we get something to eat. We wander through the Playboy store [not much there]. We play some more slots. Dawna sees someone wearing a t-shirt that she thinks her husband would love to have. Finds out that she can get the shirt at Mandalay Bay. I tell her that she should go to Mandalay Bay to get the shirt as the stores will all be closing by 11:00 p.m. and that I can just meet her back at the hotel room afterwards. She was reluctant to leave me on my own to get tattooed, but I assured her that I would be fine. Finally she agreed to go.
I get in shortly after 11:00 p.m. to get my tattoo from Joey. He’s pictured first below:
Even at that time of night, it was still pretty busy in there. I have to say that the shop is so much smaller in “real life” than it is on TV. I think the shop would run a whole bunch more smoothly if they had two counters: one dealing strictly with tattoos and the other dealing just with merchandise. Otherwise, that front counter gets impossibly crowded.
I recognized Dizzle and Twig there in the shop that night. I never spoke to Dizzle, but Twig commented on the fact that I looked so relaxed [I was falling asleep while the tattoo was being done].
Joey did a really nice job of my tattoo. It’s my husband’s name [stylized] in a “bracelet” around my arm.
Here are some pics of it:
It was shortly after midnight when they bandaged up my new tat and sent me on my way. I caught a cab back to TI. I’m not 100% sure, but I think the cab driver might have been hitting on me. The conversation went as follows:
Cabbie “You must have had lots of guys hitting on you while in Vegas.”
Me “Thankfully, no.”
Cabbie “Why do you say ‘thankfully’?”
Me “Because then I didn’t have to get mean.”
Cabbie “You’d get mean?”
Me “It depends. Depends on how well the person understood and took the word ‘no.’ If they accepted it the first time, no problems. If they got pushy and aggressive, I’d have to resort to violence and punch them in the face.”
Cabbie “What if a guy tactfully asked you to sleep with him?”
Me “Then I would tactfully have to tell him ‘no.’”
Cabbie “Oh.”
At this point we’re pulling into the front entrance of the hotel and I pay him the fare; the conversation ends. Judge for yourself.
I find Dawna in the hotel room. It’s 1:00 a.m. and I’m completely wired [running on an adrenaline high from just getting tattooed]. I know that we have to be up and checked out of the room by 11:00 a.m. the next morning [or later the same day], so I force myself to lie down and get to sleep. I actually fall asleep a lot faster than I thought I would.
We found a nice little restaurant to grab something to eat. Met a very sweet server named Michelle who was in a lot of pain [passing kidney stones]. She showed us a picture of her husband who had recently graduated school to become a radiation technologist and that they’d both soon be moving to Phoenix. I hope she has a smooth transition to her new home [and free from pain]. Dawna and I joked around with her that she could moonlight as a tour guide in Vegas. Such a funny lady.
After lunch, we went and got our seats for the Price is Right show. It was an absolute riot. Laughed at the “I’ve got crabs” t-shirt. Was a bit creeped out by the cemetery worker. Cheered on the young man from Long Island who won a trip. By the time the show was over, my throat was sore and I had pretty much lost my voice from shouting such memorable lines as “higher” and/or “lower.” Out in the lobby, Dawna and I got our picture taken with the “cast.”
After that, we took a shuttle bus over to Rio. Neither of us cared much for that hotel. I did find the girl dancing on the slot machines to be quite humorous. Although, I felt bad that no one [except for Dawna and I] seemed to notice that she was there.
From Rio, we caught a cab over to the Palms hotel.
We signed up for a player’s card and then went over to the Hart & Huntington Tattoo Company in the hotel. I sign up to get a tattoo done. You can’t make an appointment; it’s done on a first come first serve basis. This is at around 7:00 p.m. and the wait looks like I won’t get in until around 11:00 p.m. Dawna and I buy some t-shirts. Dawna gets an autograph by Dizzle for her husband [he spells the name wrong]. We go and play some slots. Then we get something to eat. We wander through the Playboy store [not much there]. We play some more slots. Dawna sees someone wearing a t-shirt that she thinks her husband would love to have. Finds out that she can get the shirt at Mandalay Bay. I tell her that she should go to Mandalay Bay to get the shirt as the stores will all be closing by 11:00 p.m. and that I can just meet her back at the hotel room afterwards. She was reluctant to leave me on my own to get tattooed, but I assured her that I would be fine. Finally she agreed to go.
I get in shortly after 11:00 p.m. to get my tattoo from Joey. He’s pictured first below:
Even at that time of night, it was still pretty busy in there. I have to say that the shop is so much smaller in “real life” than it is on TV. I think the shop would run a whole bunch more smoothly if they had two counters: one dealing strictly with tattoos and the other dealing just with merchandise. Otherwise, that front counter gets impossibly crowded.
I recognized Dizzle and Twig there in the shop that night. I never spoke to Dizzle, but Twig commented on the fact that I looked so relaxed [I was falling asleep while the tattoo was being done].
Joey did a really nice job of my tattoo. It’s my husband’s name [stylized] in a “bracelet” around my arm.
Here are some pics of it:
It was shortly after midnight when they bandaged up my new tat and sent me on my way. I caught a cab back to TI. I’m not 100% sure, but I think the cab driver might have been hitting on me. The conversation went as follows:
Cabbie “You must have had lots of guys hitting on you while in Vegas.”
Me “Thankfully, no.”
Cabbie “Why do you say ‘thankfully’?”
Me “Because then I didn’t have to get mean.”
Cabbie “You’d get mean?”
Me “It depends. Depends on how well the person understood and took the word ‘no.’ If they accepted it the first time, no problems. If they got pushy and aggressive, I’d have to resort to violence and punch them in the face.”
Cabbie “What if a guy tactfully asked you to sleep with him?”
Me “Then I would tactfully have to tell him ‘no.’”
Cabbie “Oh.”
At this point we’re pulling into the front entrance of the hotel and I pay him the fare; the conversation ends. Judge for yourself.
I find Dawna in the hotel room. It’s 1:00 a.m. and I’m completely wired [running on an adrenaline high from just getting tattooed]. I know that we have to be up and checked out of the room by 11:00 a.m. the next morning [or later the same day], so I force myself to lie down and get to sleep. I actually fall asleep a lot faster than I thought I would.
August 22nd, 2006 - Third Day in Vegas
This day, we get up around 10:00 a.m. Go through our usual caffeine and shower/dress routine. Go grab something to eat and decide what we’re going to do that day. We know that we’re going to head over to Bally’s to pick up our tickets. We ordered tickets by phone the day before to go and see The Price is Right Wednesday afternoon.
We figure this will be a day that we explore some of the hotels on the strip.
We go to Bally’s and pick up our tickets for the show the next day. Both of us get the giggles as they are writing out our names on the price tag name tags.
We sign up for a player’s card at Bally’s and get a free t-shirt [the card also entitles us to a 10% discount at various shops in the co-operation of hotels].
We do some shopping and browsing at stores in Bally’s before we head over into the Paris hotel.
We spend a long time in there. Then we catch a cab over to the Luxor. We wanted to get a good look at all the Egyptian themed stuff there.
Dawna tries to get me excited about making a Las Vegas DVD at this booth that is there where it looks like you’re flying around Las Vegas on a magic carpet. We go and buy tickets to Tut’s museum and a simulation ride about finding some lost obelisk. We go on the ride and enjoyed the elevator part of it. The second part of the ride just made us both feel really ill and gave us headaches. We had to go and sit and eat/drink something to see if that would make us feel a bit better. It did, but only just a tiny bit better.
We go through the “museum,” which was so not worth the money we spent. Oh, well, live and learn.
We were both too queasy from the stupid ride to even entertain the possibility of getting on some spinning magic carpet to make a DVD, so that was a definite pass.
We walked over to the Excalibur hotel and did some shopping again. Dawna dared me to have my weight guessed. If they couldn’t guess within 3 pounds, we’d win a prize. I went up. They guessed wrong. Won a stuffed dragon. Then Dawna gave it a go. She also won a stuffed dragon.
From Excalibur, we took the walkway over to the New York New York hotel. I was able to get a nice picture of the MGM Grand hotel.
Dawna was thinking that she’d like to try the roller coaster at the NY NY, but we both agreed that today was not the day as we still felt really icky from the Luxor ride. Instead, we went shopping [spent a bit of time in the Harley Davidson shop there] and ate some pretzels [very yummy].
By this time, it was around 9:00 p.m. We went back to TI and hung out in the hotel room [ordered room service].
An expression had grown over the last few days that we used quite a bit. It started the first night when we were tired, giddy and slightly tipsy. We kept saying “F-awww-k.” We’d kind of squawk it out like a drawn out chicken cluck.
We used that word a lot to describe the simulation ride.
We made an early night of that night and got to bed around midnight.
We figure this will be a day that we explore some of the hotels on the strip.
We go to Bally’s and pick up our tickets for the show the next day. Both of us get the giggles as they are writing out our names on the price tag name tags.
We sign up for a player’s card at Bally’s and get a free t-shirt [the card also entitles us to a 10% discount at various shops in the co-operation of hotels].
We do some shopping and browsing at stores in Bally’s before we head over into the Paris hotel.
We spend a long time in there. Then we catch a cab over to the Luxor. We wanted to get a good look at all the Egyptian themed stuff there.
Dawna tries to get me excited about making a Las Vegas DVD at this booth that is there where it looks like you’re flying around Las Vegas on a magic carpet. We go and buy tickets to Tut’s museum and a simulation ride about finding some lost obelisk. We go on the ride and enjoyed the elevator part of it. The second part of the ride just made us both feel really ill and gave us headaches. We had to go and sit and eat/drink something to see if that would make us feel a bit better. It did, but only just a tiny bit better.
We go through the “museum,” which was so not worth the money we spent. Oh, well, live and learn.
We were both too queasy from the stupid ride to even entertain the possibility of getting on some spinning magic carpet to make a DVD, so that was a definite pass.
We walked over to the Excalibur hotel and did some shopping again. Dawna dared me to have my weight guessed. If they couldn’t guess within 3 pounds, we’d win a prize. I went up. They guessed wrong. Won a stuffed dragon. Then Dawna gave it a go. She also won a stuffed dragon.
From Excalibur, we took the walkway over to the New York New York hotel. I was able to get a nice picture of the MGM Grand hotel.
Dawna was thinking that she’d like to try the roller coaster at the NY NY, but we both agreed that today was not the day as we still felt really icky from the Luxor ride. Instead, we went shopping [spent a bit of time in the Harley Davidson shop there] and ate some pretzels [very yummy].
By this time, it was around 9:00 p.m. We went back to TI and hung out in the hotel room [ordered room service].
An expression had grown over the last few days that we used quite a bit. It started the first night when we were tired, giddy and slightly tipsy. We kept saying “F-awww-k.” We’d kind of squawk it out like a drawn out chicken cluck.
We used that word a lot to describe the simulation ride.
We made an early night of that night and got to bed around midnight.
August 21st, 2006 - Second Day in Vegas
Dawna and I wake up after noon. I take a shower and get dressed. While Dawna is taking a shower, I head down to Starbucks to grab a latte and a tea. In the elevator I encounter a large and very friendly Italian family. They seemed fascinated with my arm tattoo and pierced nose. Approximately ten floors down in the elevator trip, I find myself being hugged and cheeks being pinched by these very happy tourists. A nice way to start the day.
After we got our fill of caffeine, we headed down to The Coffee Shop for a late breakfast. We eventually left the hotel sometime after 3:00 p.m. and decide to go over to the Venetian hotel and see what’s there.
As we were walking down the sidewalk, there was a family ahead of us with a young girl [probably five years old] who was skipping along. As we tried to pass them, the little girl took hold of her father’s hand then reached out to me with her other hand [she obviously wasn’t looking]. Because I am around young children most of the time, it didn’t faze me at all to just take hold of her hand. Her dad started laughing [as did Dawna and the rest of the family] while we strode a few more steps down the side walk hand in hand before the girl looked up and realized that I wasn’t her mother [or anyone she knew]. She snatched her hand away and stood there in shock for a few seconds before she looked around and saw that her family was all still there laughing and smiling. Then she started laughing too.
[Dawna and I had encountered a young man, possibly three years old, the night before when we had stopped to get something to eat. As he marched past our table, he stopped and turned to us and said “Evening, ladies.” Then he turned and continued on his way.]
We found a store called The Stupid Factory in the Venetian and spent quite a bit of time in there. I take a few pictures of the painted ceilings in the entrance of the hotel. The pictures really don’t do justice to the scale of just how enormous these paintings are.
Dawna and I find some statues of the Blue Man Group and figure we simply have to take some pictures. See, Dawna’s husband, Alan, absolutely hates the Blue Man Group. He says that if he ever met them in person, they’d have to change the name to Black and Blue Man Group. I personally don’t share his irritation with this group. I understand it, though, as my husband has told me in the past that “listening to Perry Como’s music makes me angry.”
Dawna and I spend quite a bit of time browsing through all the various shops at the Venetian. We stop and watch some performers sing some operatic songs.
After the Venetian, we go back to TI to get something to eat. We sign up for our player’s cards in the casino. We find a stall by the Kahuna Lounge for temporary tattoos and Dawna considers getting her husband’s name done. We approach the stall and see a woman in loud flower print clam diggers, frilly ankle socks in sandals, chatting loudly on a pink fuzzy cell phone. She whispers very loudly to whomever was on the other end that she’s “gotta go, gotta go, there’s someone here.” After she hangs up, she turns to us and says “that was my lover; not my boyfriend.”
Neither Dawna nor I knew exactly how to respond to that revelation, but the woman then started laughing heartily and we just laughed as well. She spent a long time going through her file folders trying to find the lettering for Dawna’s husband’s name. She managed to find an A and an L, but no luck with the N. We told her to go ahead and deal with the other people that had started to line up for tattoos and that we might come back later.
We take a cab downtown to take in the Fremont Experience.
We sign up for some player’s cards in the Four Queens and the Golden Nugget. We wander up and down Fremont and smile at the Elvis impersonator and the show girls that are there having pictures taken with tourists. We go into a small New Orleans style casino and are given some free beads. This is the first casino that we played slots in that we were actually approached by servers and asked if we wanted a drink.
We checked out the various vendors’ stalls along the street. I have a conversation with Dawna about how many people have made comments about my arm tattoo since we arrived. I wondered if women in Vegas simply didn’t have tattoos. I had more comments in less than 24 hours in Vegas than I have in all the time I’ve lived with the tattoo in Vancouver. Dawna said she was surprised that no one had commented on my chest. Well, about 15 minutes later, a local approaches us on the street, takes one look at me, looks at my arm, then my chest and exclaims “nice tits.” I look over at Dawna and say “there it is.” We both laughed.
We spent a few hours down there before heading back to TI and crawling into bed at around 3:00 a.m. Just how do people get any sleep in a city that never sleeps?
After we got our fill of caffeine, we headed down to The Coffee Shop for a late breakfast. We eventually left the hotel sometime after 3:00 p.m. and decide to go over to the Venetian hotel and see what’s there.
As we were walking down the sidewalk, there was a family ahead of us with a young girl [probably five years old] who was skipping along. As we tried to pass them, the little girl took hold of her father’s hand then reached out to me with her other hand [she obviously wasn’t looking]. Because I am around young children most of the time, it didn’t faze me at all to just take hold of her hand. Her dad started laughing [as did Dawna and the rest of the family] while we strode a few more steps down the side walk hand in hand before the girl looked up and realized that I wasn’t her mother [or anyone she knew]. She snatched her hand away and stood there in shock for a few seconds before she looked around and saw that her family was all still there laughing and smiling. Then she started laughing too.
[Dawna and I had encountered a young man, possibly three years old, the night before when we had stopped to get something to eat. As he marched past our table, he stopped and turned to us and said “Evening, ladies.” Then he turned and continued on his way.]
We found a store called The Stupid Factory in the Venetian and spent quite a bit of time in there. I take a few pictures of the painted ceilings in the entrance of the hotel. The pictures really don’t do justice to the scale of just how enormous these paintings are.
Dawna and I find some statues of the Blue Man Group and figure we simply have to take some pictures. See, Dawna’s husband, Alan, absolutely hates the Blue Man Group. He says that if he ever met them in person, they’d have to change the name to Black and Blue Man Group. I personally don’t share his irritation with this group. I understand it, though, as my husband has told me in the past that “listening to Perry Como’s music makes me angry.”
Dawna and I spend quite a bit of time browsing through all the various shops at the Venetian. We stop and watch some performers sing some operatic songs.
After the Venetian, we go back to TI to get something to eat. We sign up for our player’s cards in the casino. We find a stall by the Kahuna Lounge for temporary tattoos and Dawna considers getting her husband’s name done. We approach the stall and see a woman in loud flower print clam diggers, frilly ankle socks in sandals, chatting loudly on a pink fuzzy cell phone. She whispers very loudly to whomever was on the other end that she’s “gotta go, gotta go, there’s someone here.” After she hangs up, she turns to us and says “that was my lover; not my boyfriend.”
Neither Dawna nor I knew exactly how to respond to that revelation, but the woman then started laughing heartily and we just laughed as well. She spent a long time going through her file folders trying to find the lettering for Dawna’s husband’s name. She managed to find an A and an L, but no luck with the N. We told her to go ahead and deal with the other people that had started to line up for tattoos and that we might come back later.
We take a cab downtown to take in the Fremont Experience.
We sign up for some player’s cards in the Four Queens and the Golden Nugget. We wander up and down Fremont and smile at the Elvis impersonator and the show girls that are there having pictures taken with tourists. We go into a small New Orleans style casino and are given some free beads. This is the first casino that we played slots in that we were actually approached by servers and asked if we wanted a drink.
We checked out the various vendors’ stalls along the street. I have a conversation with Dawna about how many people have made comments about my arm tattoo since we arrived. I wondered if women in Vegas simply didn’t have tattoos. I had more comments in less than 24 hours in Vegas than I have in all the time I’ve lived with the tattoo in Vancouver. Dawna said she was surprised that no one had commented on my chest. Well, about 15 minutes later, a local approaches us on the street, takes one look at me, looks at my arm, then my chest and exclaims “nice tits.” I look over at Dawna and say “there it is.” We both laughed.
We spent a few hours down there before heading back to TI and crawling into bed at around 3:00 a.m. Just how do people get any sleep in a city that never sleeps?
Friday, September 01, 2006
August 20th, 2006 - First Day in Vegas
Dawna and I were given a ride to the airport by her husband. We arrived shortly after noon. Neither of us slept very well the night before. We were too darned excited. I mean, after all, we were headed for Las Vegas, baby! I was nervous and skeptical. I kept expecting the whole thing to fall flat at the last minute. I tried to convince myself that I wouldn’t get too excited about the trip until I was actually seated in a plane seat. I was excited despite my reservations that something unexpected might pop up to ruin the plans.
So we get our tickets, say our good-byes and head off to get in a very long line for US Customs. The nearer we got to the border guards, the worse our giggles became. We were definitely giddy. It crossed my mind that the guards may not be in the best of moods given the events in the preceding week regarding liquids and gels being carried onto an airplane. But we had been very careful packing our carry-on bags and made sure we didn’t even have chapstick with us. There was a US Customs agent wandering around that looked too much like Samuel L. Jackson, and because his movie had just opened that weekend, I kept thinking about “mother effin snakes on the mother effin plane,” which didn’t help to kill the giggles.
Somehow, we managed to get through customs without incident. We also managed to check our luggage and get through security without any problems. [FYI, my nipple piercings didn’t set off any alarms, thank goodness].
We wandered into the smoking lounge and struck up some conversations with other folks sitting in there. We met one woman from the Island who was also on her way to Las Vegas to celebrate her birthday and her daughter’s birthday [we were going down to celebrate Dawna’s birthday]. It had been five years since she was last in Vegas. She had been scheduled to fly home in the morning of September 11th, 2001. Obviously, she wasn’t able to come home that day. She had to stay in Las Vegas an extra five days [and the hotel wouldn’t comp their stay] and then take a bus.
We finally board our Harmony Airways plane and it takes off. Not sure if Dawna and I amused or irritated our fellow passengers during take-off as we stuck our arms up in the air and exclaimed “weeeeeeeeeeee!!!” as we’re heading down the runway.
“Oh, Mandy,
Well, you showed me the exits and seat belt signs
And handed out headphones today.
Oh, Mandy,
Well, you came and you gave me a pizza bagel,
And I ate it anyway.
Oh, Mandy.”
[Our flight attendant was named Mandy; she was very nice – had to concoct bad song lyrics for her, just because].
Terrible's Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas
We land in Vegas around 7:30 pm. Leave the airport to catch our shuttle bus to our hotel. Holy Heatwave, Batman!! As soon as I left the air-conditioned building and was confronted with that desert heat, my immediate thought and reaction was to start yelling at all the drivers in the cars and buses and tell them to turn off their bloody engines. I felt like I was in a small parking garage with a hundred cars, all of them running their engines hot. It took me a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t the cars creating this heat; this was the actual temperature. I glanced up and read the sign which said that it was 41 C [106 F] and this was at night, AFTER the sun had gone down. Vancouver had been a comfortable 21 C [70 F] when we left. I didn’t know how I was going to survive the heat over the next few days.
We get to our hotel [we’re staying at Treasure Island] and check in. We go to check out our room. Dawna had requested a smoking room, a view of the strip, with a small bar fridge and a coffee maker. What we got was a room on a non-smoking floor, a view of a construction site across the street [not strip], no fridge and no coffee maker. So we head back down to the front desk to see about getting something closer to what we had wanted. We do end up with a smoking room, a view of the north side of the strip and they have a small bar fridge sent in. However, we were not going to get a coffee maker. We were told the same story repeatedly about how it’s a liability and folks could burn themselves, so no coffee makers or kettles in any of the rooms. We tried to assure them that, as Canadians, if we foolishly burnt ourselves with hot water, that we wouldn’t sue the hotel. They didn’t buy it. We also pointed out that the rooms come equipped with an iron; weren’t they concerned that someone might burn themselves on the iron and sue? Still no coffee maker.
Hotel Room View at Night
Hotel Room View by Day
After we settled ourselves into our new room and made ourselves aware of our immediate surroundings, we decided to head out onto the street and wander around. We crossed over to the Venetian side and strode up the sidewalk. There was a band playing on an outside stage in front of the Imperial Palace and we got closer to have a listen and see if we could get a drink. It was pretty crowded around the bar. Folks were enjoying the performances of the flare bartenders [it was awesome to watch them flip and toss and juggle the various bottles and glasses]. We weren’t aggressive enough to force our way right up and order a drink, so we decided to leave and see if we could find something somewhere else.
And that’s when we found it: the world’s most perfect drink. Both of us got a strawberry margarita from Beacher’s Rockhouse Bar. It didn’t seem all that fantastic at first. A margarita is a margarita; right? This was deliciously refreshing. A Slurpee for adults. It was sweet, but not sickeningly so. I know I will go back to Las Vegas one day for no other reason than to get another one of those margaritas.
With margarita in hand, we walked around some more. Crossing the street again, we spent a while meandering through Caesar’s Palace. We sipped, we giggled, we strode through the mall. After a couple of hours, we ended up back in our hotel room. Neither Dawna nor myself can be sure if it was the excitement, the lack of sleep, the effect of the drink or a combination of all three that made us sit in that hotel room and laugh until our sides ached.
Eventually we got ourselves ready for sleep and crawled into bed, intending to get a better night’s sleep for the next day. This was around 3:00 am. By 3:05, Dawna was asking me if I could sleep. Nope. I was still wide awake and full of good humour. So we got up, got dressed and headed down to the casino. Played some electronic black jack and a few slot machines before finally going back to our room to sleep after 5:30 am.
So we get our tickets, say our good-byes and head off to get in a very long line for US Customs. The nearer we got to the border guards, the worse our giggles became. We were definitely giddy. It crossed my mind that the guards may not be in the best of moods given the events in the preceding week regarding liquids and gels being carried onto an airplane. But we had been very careful packing our carry-on bags and made sure we didn’t even have chapstick with us. There was a US Customs agent wandering around that looked too much like Samuel L. Jackson, and because his movie had just opened that weekend, I kept thinking about “mother effin snakes on the mother effin plane,” which didn’t help to kill the giggles.
Somehow, we managed to get through customs without incident. We also managed to check our luggage and get through security without any problems. [FYI, my nipple piercings didn’t set off any alarms, thank goodness].
We wandered into the smoking lounge and struck up some conversations with other folks sitting in there. We met one woman from the Island who was also on her way to Las Vegas to celebrate her birthday and her daughter’s birthday [we were going down to celebrate Dawna’s birthday]. It had been five years since she was last in Vegas. She had been scheduled to fly home in the morning of September 11th, 2001. Obviously, she wasn’t able to come home that day. She had to stay in Las Vegas an extra five days [and the hotel wouldn’t comp their stay] and then take a bus.
We finally board our Harmony Airways plane and it takes off. Not sure if Dawna and I amused or irritated our fellow passengers during take-off as we stuck our arms up in the air and exclaimed “weeeeeeeeeeee!!!” as we’re heading down the runway.
“Oh, Mandy,
Well, you showed me the exits and seat belt signs
And handed out headphones today.
Oh, Mandy,
Well, you came and you gave me a pizza bagel,
And I ate it anyway.
Oh, Mandy.”
[Our flight attendant was named Mandy; she was very nice – had to concoct bad song lyrics for her, just because].
Terrible's Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas
We land in Vegas around 7:30 pm. Leave the airport to catch our shuttle bus to our hotel. Holy Heatwave, Batman!! As soon as I left the air-conditioned building and was confronted with that desert heat, my immediate thought and reaction was to start yelling at all the drivers in the cars and buses and tell them to turn off their bloody engines. I felt like I was in a small parking garage with a hundred cars, all of them running their engines hot. It took me a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t the cars creating this heat; this was the actual temperature. I glanced up and read the sign which said that it was 41 C [106 F] and this was at night, AFTER the sun had gone down. Vancouver had been a comfortable 21 C [70 F] when we left. I didn’t know how I was going to survive the heat over the next few days.
We get to our hotel [we’re staying at Treasure Island] and check in. We go to check out our room. Dawna had requested a smoking room, a view of the strip, with a small bar fridge and a coffee maker. What we got was a room on a non-smoking floor, a view of a construction site across the street [not strip], no fridge and no coffee maker. So we head back down to the front desk to see about getting something closer to what we had wanted. We do end up with a smoking room, a view of the north side of the strip and they have a small bar fridge sent in. However, we were not going to get a coffee maker. We were told the same story repeatedly about how it’s a liability and folks could burn themselves, so no coffee makers or kettles in any of the rooms. We tried to assure them that, as Canadians, if we foolishly burnt ourselves with hot water, that we wouldn’t sue the hotel. They didn’t buy it. We also pointed out that the rooms come equipped with an iron; weren’t they concerned that someone might burn themselves on the iron and sue? Still no coffee maker.
Hotel Room View at Night
Hotel Room View by Day
After we settled ourselves into our new room and made ourselves aware of our immediate surroundings, we decided to head out onto the street and wander around. We crossed over to the Venetian side and strode up the sidewalk. There was a band playing on an outside stage in front of the Imperial Palace and we got closer to have a listen and see if we could get a drink. It was pretty crowded around the bar. Folks were enjoying the performances of the flare bartenders [it was awesome to watch them flip and toss and juggle the various bottles and glasses]. We weren’t aggressive enough to force our way right up and order a drink, so we decided to leave and see if we could find something somewhere else.
And that’s when we found it: the world’s most perfect drink. Both of us got a strawberry margarita from Beacher’s Rockhouse Bar. It didn’t seem all that fantastic at first. A margarita is a margarita; right? This was deliciously refreshing. A Slurpee for adults. It was sweet, but not sickeningly so. I know I will go back to Las Vegas one day for no other reason than to get another one of those margaritas.
With margarita in hand, we walked around some more. Crossing the street again, we spent a while meandering through Caesar’s Palace. We sipped, we giggled, we strode through the mall. After a couple of hours, we ended up back in our hotel room. Neither Dawna nor myself can be sure if it was the excitement, the lack of sleep, the effect of the drink or a combination of all three that made us sit in that hotel room and laugh until our sides ached.
Eventually we got ourselves ready for sleep and crawled into bed, intending to get a better night’s sleep for the next day. This was around 3:00 am. By 3:05, Dawna was asking me if I could sleep. Nope. I was still wide awake and full of good humour. So we got up, got dressed and headed down to the casino. Played some electronic black jack and a few slot machines before finally going back to our room to sleep after 5:30 am.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Things are looking up, up in the air
Well, August has been shaping up to be a much better month than July was. Okay, I am still broke; but I’m having a lot of fun anyway.
Went downtown and spent last Saturday night at a good friend’s house. She had invited a few people over to watch the finale of the fireworks competition. We could peek between the buildings and see the wonderful colour explosions of Mexico’s entry. Simulcast music on the radio. I danced and oohed and aahed on her rooftop patio surrounded by truly great people that I’m blessed to know [and honoured to call friends].
Sunday, we were all quite tired [and a bit hung over] from the night before. But that didn’t stop us from dragging our asses down to the beach to watch the Pride Parade. This was the first parade that I’ve been able to attend [usually out of town when it happens]. I had a blast! Again, I danced and oohed and aahed at all the floats and participants. The only downside was that I ended up with a wicked headache from smiling and laughing so much. Can’t wait to go back again next year.
In two weeks I’m supposed to be heading down to Las Vegas with another girlfriend of mine [it’s her birthday] and I’ll be sure to pack lots of Tylenol because, again, I know I’ll be smiling and laughing way too much. I’m a bit nervous about flying after today’s events. No, I’m not afraid of the plane being hijacked or blown up; I’m afraid of what it’s going to be like trying to go through the various security checks.
I’m afraid my fairly new nipple piercings are going to set off the alarms when I pass through the metal detectors. I’ve had them less than six months so I don’t want to take them out [they are still in the healing stage]. Oh, well, I don’t mind if they want to see them. Just hope I won’t get into any trouble by “flashing” them.
I’m also not looking forward to having to buy beverages in the airport instead of being able to take my own bottled water. I somehow doubt they’ll be letting anyone through with any kind of liquid beverage. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures when I’m there.
Went downtown and spent last Saturday night at a good friend’s house. She had invited a few people over to watch the finale of the fireworks competition. We could peek between the buildings and see the wonderful colour explosions of Mexico’s entry. Simulcast music on the radio. I danced and oohed and aahed on her rooftop patio surrounded by truly great people that I’m blessed to know [and honoured to call friends].
Sunday, we were all quite tired [and a bit hung over] from the night before. But that didn’t stop us from dragging our asses down to the beach to watch the Pride Parade. This was the first parade that I’ve been able to attend [usually out of town when it happens]. I had a blast! Again, I danced and oohed and aahed at all the floats and participants. The only downside was that I ended up with a wicked headache from smiling and laughing so much. Can’t wait to go back again next year.
In two weeks I’m supposed to be heading down to Las Vegas with another girlfriend of mine [it’s her birthday] and I’ll be sure to pack lots of Tylenol because, again, I know I’ll be smiling and laughing way too much. I’m a bit nervous about flying after today’s events. No, I’m not afraid of the plane being hijacked or blown up; I’m afraid of what it’s going to be like trying to go through the various security checks.
I’m afraid my fairly new nipple piercings are going to set off the alarms when I pass through the metal detectors. I’ve had them less than six months so I don’t want to take them out [they are still in the healing stage]. Oh, well, I don’t mind if they want to see them. Just hope I won’t get into any trouble by “flashing” them.
I’m also not looking forward to having to buy beverages in the airport instead of being able to take my own bottled water. I somehow doubt they’ll be letting anyone through with any kind of liquid beverage. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures when I’m there.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Buds Blooming in the Rain
I had to go out last night to get some gas and some milk. Problem was that someone had parked their truck across the end of our driveway in the alley and there was no way for me to get the van out of the garage. I knew the truck belonged to a guest of the house right behind us. I’ve meant for some time to let the neighbours know that they can have a guest park to the one side of our driveway if they want to [because they often just park in the alley blocking off through access].
I walked over there with my youngest boy to speak with the young 20-somethings that live there. I wasn’t aggressive or mean. I politely asked if they could move the truck and that, if they wanted, they could park in the driveway along the one side and they could do that whenever they came to visit. The young men were extremely apologetic and the friends of the driver gave him a hard time about completely blocking in the driveway.
I mentioned that we had an old dishwasher at the end of the driveway that needed to be taken to the dump but we hadn’t had time yet to do that, so I wanted them to be careful, not because I was worried about damage to the dishwasher, but I didn’t want them to damage any of their vehicles.
The young men asked “Do you want us to take it to the dump for you?”
I stood there kind of dumbfounded for a moment.
They continued “We have to make a run to the dump in the morning anyway, so if you want, we can throw it in the back of the truck and take it with us.”
I said that would be wonderful and thanked them profusely.
So they threw the dishwasher in the truck, pulled off to the side of the driveway and off I went to do my errands.
A simple event. But after the week I’ve had, it was so nice to have practical strangers [young people at that] who were so polite and considerate and downright helpful.
I walked over there with my youngest boy to speak with the young 20-somethings that live there. I wasn’t aggressive or mean. I politely asked if they could move the truck and that, if they wanted, they could park in the driveway along the one side and they could do that whenever they came to visit. The young men were extremely apologetic and the friends of the driver gave him a hard time about completely blocking in the driveway.
I mentioned that we had an old dishwasher at the end of the driveway that needed to be taken to the dump but we hadn’t had time yet to do that, so I wanted them to be careful, not because I was worried about damage to the dishwasher, but I didn’t want them to damage any of their vehicles.
The young men asked “Do you want us to take it to the dump for you?”
I stood there kind of dumbfounded for a moment.
They continued “We have to make a run to the dump in the morning anyway, so if you want, we can throw it in the back of the truck and take it with us.”
I said that would be wonderful and thanked them profusely.
So they threw the dishwasher in the truck, pulled off to the side of the driveway and off I went to do my errands.
A simple event. But after the week I’ve had, it was so nice to have practical strangers [young people at that] who were so polite and considerate and downright helpful.
Storms
My husband and I went out on Saturday night leaving oldest son at home alone. Instructions were given to “don’t go anywhere; don’t have anyone over.” Well, the next morning, my husband and I discover that both of those rules were broken. Oldest son not only went out and met a few friends, he also invited them back to the house for about an hour. How did we discover this fact? Several smaller electronic items were missing from our house. So one or more of these kids helped themselves to two iPods and a digital camera [to name a few of the items stolen].
I called the police and filed a report. The constable that was here filled me in on the fact that one of these kids is a suspected drug dealer [dealing marijuana, cocaine, crystal meth] and chances are very good that our items are long gone in that chain of criminal activity.
You can all imagine my emotional state. Not only was I dealing with a theft, but also the sick realization that my son had associations with a drug dealer and I was completely oblivious to that fact.
I started thinking that if I didn’t know this kid was a dealer, perhaps other parents didn’t know as well. So I got on the phone and called the parents of every teenager I knew and told them what had happened to us and what I had learned about one of the kids.
I am angry, still. I’m also concerned about my oldest son. His girlfriend broke up with him a month ago [he was VERY attached to her – she’s a nice girl], he had been living with his father but that household was given an eviction notice and very abruptly [in a matter of days] he had to move everything out of there and back into my home [everyone had to move out of that residence], and now this situation happened where my son realizes that one or more of who he thought were his “friends” has screwed him over without a second thought. So oldest is feeling *betrayed* by the world at large. He’s spent the last few days holed up in his room and not wanting to talk to anyone [he doesn’t want anyone to call him on the phone nor does he want to see anyone face to face]. He doesn’t want to leave the house. Consequences can be a bitch of a teacher.
So if you’re a parent of an older child, talk to them. Find out not only who their friends are, but who the friends are friends with [this drug dealer isn’t directly a friend of my son, he’s a friend of a friend]. Network with other parents in your community. Many parents I spoke to had no idea, and then went and talked to their children and were shocked to hear the stories of things that have gone on. Also an eye-opener is the rationalizations that some have had. An example, one child stated that they “felt safe hanging around these drug dealers because they are the bad-asses in town.” Many children are afraid of this kid [his influence and the fact that he seems to know *everyone*] and didn’t/don’t know exactly what to do to get away from him entirely.
Storms can help relieve the muggy tension that hangs in the air. I'm hoping the rain will wash away that fine layer of filth that has been building up.
I called the police and filed a report. The constable that was here filled me in on the fact that one of these kids is a suspected drug dealer [dealing marijuana, cocaine, crystal meth] and chances are very good that our items are long gone in that chain of criminal activity.
You can all imagine my emotional state. Not only was I dealing with a theft, but also the sick realization that my son had associations with a drug dealer and I was completely oblivious to that fact.
I started thinking that if I didn’t know this kid was a dealer, perhaps other parents didn’t know as well. So I got on the phone and called the parents of every teenager I knew and told them what had happened to us and what I had learned about one of the kids.
I am angry, still. I’m also concerned about my oldest son. His girlfriend broke up with him a month ago [he was VERY attached to her – she’s a nice girl], he had been living with his father but that household was given an eviction notice and very abruptly [in a matter of days] he had to move everything out of there and back into my home [everyone had to move out of that residence], and now this situation happened where my son realizes that one or more of who he thought were his “friends” has screwed him over without a second thought. So oldest is feeling *betrayed* by the world at large. He’s spent the last few days holed up in his room and not wanting to talk to anyone [he doesn’t want anyone to call him on the phone nor does he want to see anyone face to face]. He doesn’t want to leave the house. Consequences can be a bitch of a teacher.
So if you’re a parent of an older child, talk to them. Find out not only who their friends are, but who the friends are friends with [this drug dealer isn’t directly a friend of my son, he’s a friend of a friend]. Network with other parents in your community. Many parents I spoke to had no idea, and then went and talked to their children and were shocked to hear the stories of things that have gone on. Also an eye-opener is the rationalizations that some have had. An example, one child stated that they “felt safe hanging around these drug dealers because they are the bad-asses in town.” Many children are afraid of this kid [his influence and the fact that he seems to know *everyone*] and didn’t/don’t know exactly what to do to get away from him entirely.
Storms can help relieve the muggy tension that hangs in the air. I'm hoping the rain will wash away that fine layer of filth that has been building up.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Wadda This That?
My youngest son is a budding film director. He's only 6 and already has created two classic short films.
First film is "Wadda This That."
And the sequel, "Wadda This That 2."
First film is "Wadda This That."
And the sequel, "Wadda This That 2."
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
One of those fantasy things
I think everyone has a "fantasy" career.
For some, they want to be famous rock stars.
Me? I'd love to be a burlesque performer.
Check out the Chaz Royal Burleque on myspace.com for a list of upcoming shows happening around beautiful BC.
To the left is a pic of the beautiful Bettina, one of several of the talented performers.
And y'all thought BC just had mountains and ocean views to oggle.
For some, they want to be famous rock stars.
Me? I'd love to be a burlesque performer.
Check out the Chaz Royal Burleque on myspace.com for a list of upcoming shows happening around beautiful BC.
To the left is a pic of the beautiful Bettina, one of several of the talented performers.
And y'all thought BC just had mountains and ocean views to oggle.
Namesake
My first name means "harvester."
My middle name means "one who sows."
Put them both together and you get "one who reaps what one sows."
I don't think my parents ever knew the meanings of the names. Both names are the middle names of my grandmothers and I was to be named after them. It was happenstance that I should be called what I am.
When I was younger and looked up the meaning of my names, I thought that I had been cursed. "One who reaps what one sows" sounds like a threat. It reminds me of "you made your own bed; now lie in it" or "what goes around, comes around." Was I doomed, then, to never "sow the seeds of discontent" or "sow my wild oats"?
I'm older now, perhaps wiser, perhaps not. The meaning of my name no longer fearful to me. I have learned that some of the best things in life to get are actually things that you give away [i.e., love, friendship, compassion, wisdom, et cetera]. Like the dandelion wishes of youth, you set them free into the world and hope that they will eventually take root in the minds and hearts of others, that they will germinate and blossom. And in so doing, I am able to savour those fruits or simply admire their beauty.
My middle name means "one who sows."
Put them both together and you get "one who reaps what one sows."
I don't think my parents ever knew the meanings of the names. Both names are the middle names of my grandmothers and I was to be named after them. It was happenstance that I should be called what I am.
When I was younger and looked up the meaning of my names, I thought that I had been cursed. "One who reaps what one sows" sounds like a threat. It reminds me of "you made your own bed; now lie in it" or "what goes around, comes around." Was I doomed, then, to never "sow the seeds of discontent" or "sow my wild oats"?
I'm older now, perhaps wiser, perhaps not. The meaning of my name no longer fearful to me. I have learned that some of the best things in life to get are actually things that you give away [i.e., love, friendship, compassion, wisdom, et cetera]. Like the dandelion wishes of youth, you set them free into the world and hope that they will eventually take root in the minds and hearts of others, that they will germinate and blossom. And in so doing, I am able to savour those fruits or simply admire their beauty.
In the beginning ...
Starting up anything new on the internet these days always reminds me of a sketch I saw on Saturday Night Live a few years back. It was one of those "fake" commercials about a conservative financial company that advertises in a deadpan tone that they are finally on the internet, with the only web address left by the time they got around to it being clownpenis.fart.
I thought about using that for the name of my blog, but, wouldn't you know it, the name is already taken!
I thought about using that for the name of my blog, but, wouldn't you know it, the name is already taken!
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