*

on sunday morning i wake up early.
i prepare myself for the day ahead of me. its going to be strange.
i arrange a ride to the same small town i grew up in, escaped, all those years ago.
i need to get ready.
in the bathroom i look in the mirror. my normal self looks back. i don't look tired. my eyes are not red. i do not look distressed or distraught.
i look detached.
i frown at the mirror. Sometimes i worry that my "professional detachment" has metastasized too far into the margins of my personal life. this is definitely one of those times.

i shower. wash my hair. brush my teeth. curl my lashes. dress myself in black.

i'm excited to wear my new dress.
don't be dumb.

my legs are pasty and fish belly white, marked with too many bruises and scratches for normal wear and tear.

courtney love.

thank you, wrestling dogs and cats for a living.
i will need pantyhose, which i don't have.
i put on my shoes and my coat and so does Richard. we'll go for coffee and hosiery before we split up for the afternoon.

by the time we sit for coffee my feet are already sore and a bit red across the top where the leather edge has bitten into them. they won't rub so much once the pantyhose are on, but i'm glad to have something to focus on if things get weird.

"its just so weird", i tell Richard.

today i'm going to the wake of a girl nine years younger than me. we grew up together and our parent would go out and i'd babysit. we'd catch bullfrogs in the creek and snakes sunning on the stone walkway. we'd build forts in the woods and watch cartoons.
her name was "minnow" back then and she was the kind of kid you could tell straight away would grow up to be someone amazing.
and then she did grow up, and our families drifted and she got away from me, and now its been years and she's gone; died.
gotten away from all of us.

she was at university. told her mum she wasn't feeling well, went to bed...that was it.
she was twenty years old.

i'm the only one in our family who can make it to the wake.

"it IS going to be weird", Richard nods, "death is a pretty fucked up thing"

you happy now

Ok, so,
My shift at the Good Food Company today might best be described as "Nighmarish", or perhaps "a harrowing ordeal"....(it was CRAZY busy, people were weird, people were cranky and then the cash register completely broke and half of the transactions that DID get put through were done on 'void' with no paper trail to track the numbers....wheeeee!)

I was dead tired and ready to drop by the end of the day, so i was completely surprised when one of my tables wanted to make a donation to the "Send April to Africa" fund. I said it was very nice of him and thank you very much, and please help yourself to any of the Photo prints if they should happen to please your eye.... as he left a rather large tip for the table, and i assumed that that was that.

Needless to say i was completely stunned when he wanted to make another transaction for a 250.00 donation for the trip. (!!!!)
I protested that it was too much, and he said, no, I'd been serving him and his family for years, and he strongly believes in helping out people within the community and he thought it was a good cause, and that was that. !

so yeah! pretty awesome!

then at the end of the shift i ended up with a huge wad of tips from the crazy busy day...and when i got home and checked the mail - expecting a huge cell phone bill and not much else- there was a government cheque for 600 bucks in outstanding GST credits. So all told, Travel fund is up a cool 1000 bucks in one amazing day.

awesome,
awesome,
awesome,

*squee!*

you happy now

You know those days that are kind of great, but for no good reason?

Today was one of those.

I got to sleep in and gently drift to consciousness without the assistance of a screeching alarm clock, have breakfast at a sugar shack with McKenna and Simon, Dig out my bike and go for a tour (albeit a tiny one) with Shawn and Mikey, and then have drinks and eats with my cuz Shianne and Auntie Chris and her friend Sue.
The sun was shining, the conversation was good and i didn't do a SINGLE productive thing, all day. Plus i got invites to play Road Hockey, Go Hot Tubbing, and go Whitewater rafting. (yes, yes and YES! )

And somebody said my skin looks nice, and not in the creepy, 'are you about a size twelve?' silence of the lambs kind of way either.

The only parts that sucked were trying on bathing suits ( I've decided that i look better naked than in spandex, by the way, and that skinny dipping is definitely the way to go - i've known that since i was about 3, actually - and i will only ever wear a bathing suit again if its a choice between that or fines for public indecency - "*sigh* Tuttle's naked again...better call the cops...." )

AND i never DID find anyone to play frisbee with! Not a single, solitary throw...TSK! So be forewarned...I have now given up on asking, pestering, pleading, begging, wheedling, trying to subliminally mind rape, coax, cajole, or blandish anyone into playing with me.

The new rules are as follows:

1. It shall be understood that any time i am speaking with you, hanging out with you, in the same postal code, or in an upright position and or breathing between now and November 1st, that i am likely to have a frisbee on my person.

2. The frisbee does NOT have to be in plain sight for a game to be initiated.

3. At any point during said ' hang out' , i may launch the Frisbee towards your face, provided that i shout your name before it actually gets there.

4. You will simply be obliged to catch it in some manner.

(hands or teeth, its your choice...*shrugs*)

5. In the event that a player elects to not have fun, and catches the frisbee with their face, a game of Tag may be substituted at said injured player's discretion, depending of their degree of eye watering and desire to throttle me.

6. Although slightly less fun, it shall be agreed upon that a player may preemptively thwart surprise frisbee attacks by directly asking to play, and participating in at least five tosses - even if they suck. This will be sufficient effort on your part to humor me until next we meet.