3,000

I had a great post planned. It was going to be funny and discuss really loud grade 2 children and how they are learning about numbers in math.

However.

I can't write about it because I'm still freaking physically exhausted and emotionally bankrupt a tiny bit weepy from damn American Idol. It was the "Idol gives back" episode and I should have known to crack open a new box of kleenex when Ryan first appeared wearing his 'serious face'.

Let's recap...

Carrie Underwood singing "I'll stand by you", while taking African children to put flowers on a grave? Sob

Simon and Ryan watching 13 kids lay down on a dirt floor getting ready for bed? Sob

Being told that a baby that the camera crew picked up on the way to a clinic who had malaria (which is CURABLE, people) died before getting treatment? Sob

Every picture they showed of HIV orphans crying big fat alligator tears? Sob

Annie Lennox singing "Bridge over Troubled Water"? Sob

Because I'm working on not worrying, I decided the only way I would feel better about all of this is if I did something. So, I ordered another Gap t-shirt and another package of one bracelets. I've also decided that instead of buying 5 fat and glossy fashion magazines each month, I'll buy 2 (it's the same stuff in each one anyway), and donate the difference. It's not a lot, but it makes me feel better.

Upset that kids are dying from CURABLE disesases? Go here. As for a post about numbers, I will leave you with one I'm not soon to forget: according to Malaria No More, this CURABLE disease kills 3,000 children everyday. 3,000 doesn't sound like a lot until you start thinking of everyone you know. Do you know 3,000 people total? Imagine all of them gone tomorrow.

3,000 kids a DAY

And it's CURABLE.

I'm going to get off my soapbox now.

20/20 Talk

What I wish I would have known 5 years ago, at age 20

- Dude, your house is going to burn down. So when you go away for that one weekend to visit your brother, take your journals with you.

- You know how you pride yourself on holding on to grudges? You shouldn't. Because you aren't holding on to the grudge anymore, it's holding on to you, like a shackle. And every year you continue being angry, sweet girl, it just gets harder to remember why you are so angry in the first place. So back down, grow up and move on.

- Sunscreen. Wear it.

- You will meet a boy and he will be everything you didn't realize you wanted. But, you will break up. You'll contemplate a breakdown on the side of the highway and then much later, it will be the cause of a breakthrough. You will realize that sometimes, what someone will do to you- will have nothing to do with you. That their mistake doesn't have to be your fault.

- If a guy tells you he's a jerk, he's a jerk. If he tells you he's interested, he's interested. If he tells you he has a girlfriend but that he loves you, - run.

- Getting your degree with be the easy part. It's what you do AFTER you have it, that's challenging.

- You are smarter than you think you are.

What I wish I would have known 10 years ago, at age 15

- You know that girl in your highschool that you think is perfect? The one who always wears the Calvin Klein jeans and looks like she's just walked out of a toothpaste ad with her ever smiling grin? Yeah, she doesn't know what the hell she's doing with her life either.

- Don't worry. You will fall in love. I promise.

- Boys have feelings actually. And treating them poorly is bad form, and your mom raised you better than that. Plus, karma is going kick your ass in a few years with a string of bad dates and boys who think the word "tits" is a completely respectable term to throw out upon meeting. Be nice.

- Being rebellious doesn't make someone more interesting. Don't feel bad for not sneaking out and driving around town sipping strawberry wine with girls who have secret tattoos and hate their parents.

- Step away from the hairspray. Your bangs are now officially a fire hazard.

- He's not being mean to you, he's flirting with you. Flirt back.

- You are prettier than what you think you are.

What I wish I would have known 20 years ago, at age 5

-Listen sweetheart, you're mom has something called a 'hobo' purse. In fact, because your mom is a shopaholic she has a ton of them. And they are just going out of fashion so she's going to donate them to Goodwill. DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN. One day in your future, those bags will become insanely popular again and you and your mom will reminisce over them. Save the bags!

- That's it. You are pretty much perfect.

Love means big screen tvs

So I've been reading a lot of posts about love. I suspect it's spring. There's something about not wearing 18 layers of fleece and thermal each time you leave the house that gets the libido going. Suddenly, the removal of hats and scarves and lumpy coats prove that we are not all cousins of the Michelin man. Instead, we are well-dressed people with curves, and smiles and hair that hasn't been flattened by a toque. And such discoveries can lead to love, or at the very least, a well developed case of like.

But spring and love is another story. This is about love, and love alone.

Apparently love means never having to say you're sorry. That phrase is like the 'get out of jail free' card in regards to apologizing. The phrase is everywhere and has been said so many times, it's now taken as fact. It's embroidered on pillows, agreed with on Oprah and referenced *328 times every minute in the North America when a couple fights over a missed anniversary.

And the truth is, I think it's bunk.

My experiences have taught me that love means saying sorry. Frequently. And usually with gifts that require extensive assembly or jewellery cleaner. I'm kidding, sort of. But I do believe it's the people who love you, and who you love who deserve your sorry's even more than the stranger you never see again. The people you love the most, deserve your best. So when you screw up, slip up or are just trying to make up, say sorry. And when words are not enough, say it with a big screen tv.

* I made this up. I felt my post was lacking statistics.

Lessons on a Tuesday

1. Never trust a man who has a fridge stocked with pesto but no ketchup.

2. Sometimes prayer works when your truck doesn't start. Sometimes a new battery works better.

3. Never take a cart when you go to Costco. Or else your bill will be so high you will have to sign off on your first born. Seriously, who NEEDS a 5 gallon jar of pickles?

4. My grandmother had something called a "dinner ring" and wore it after she had changed into something 'appropriate' for dinner. I have something called "sweatpants" and I wear them while I eat my dinner that comes from the microwave.

5. A hair straightener can become an excellent clothes iron in a pinch. (I like to think MacGuyver would be proud of me)

6. Some things just don't translate. Like explaining how funny a phone conversation I had today with my friend about how I plan on trying out for the Amazing Race with an imaginary partner. Needless to say, it would be me, not Hank, who would be performing all the tasks but I would be yelling at him to "hurry up!", endlessly. See? Not so funny typed, but at the time it was hysterical.

7. There is a man in Texas who thinks Canada is in Utah. This should make me sad but it just makes me giggle.

8. It's impossible for me to listen to "Brown Eyed Girl" without wishing I had brown eyes. And a boyfriend who loved layering his clothes and playing that song on the guitar and singing it to me every morning immediately after he serving me breakfast in bed. Oh, and he has a dog too. And nieces he lets braid his hair. And he's always saying things like "how did I ever manage without you!?". And he has parents who marvel at my brain and hug me everytime they see me (which is usually once a month when the whole gang meets for brunch at the estate). And- okay I need to stop.

9. When you start trying to figure out chords, it's time to take a step back and reconsider your love for the air guitar.

10. March Madness makes me happier than Christmas. (I started a pool!)

Bush League

Life Lesson #139: It's probably not the best idea to alienate yourself at work because you strongly disagree with a lot of George W. Bush's policies and all the narrow-minded people you work with who like him only because their parents live in Phoenix. (I know. It doen't make sense) Stony silences and dirty looks due to arguing over a president who rules a country you don't live in is never the path to upper management.

Minus the Papercuts

"The Perfect Saturday"- (n): a extended period of time following a 'madcap Friday' but before a 'lazy Sunday'. "The Perfect Saturday" consists of sleeping in late (and therefore missing the marmalade smear of morning sky- that's a Sunday activity), followed by reading the paper in bed (it's vital that newsprint gets on you) and eating fruit you can catch in your mouth ( I suggest grapes- pineapple gets messy) while trying to get comfortable laying on hardwood floor. When enough food has been caught to satisfy, "The Perfect Saturday" turns to it's main event- reading by a fireplace, or any other indoor heat source that has comfortable seating near it. If no fireplace is available, I suggest turning on a blowdryer and lighting a candle (for atmosphere), or turning on the stove- furnace room reading gets claustrophobic. (Reading selection is a matter of choice, but "Special Topics in Calamity Physics" left my heart full and beating quickly.)

After reading till full of envy and similes, "The Perfect Saturday" must include something outside. I suggest snowshoeing, pc snowgroup making or (if your 'boots are feeling heavy') a lay down in the snow while you search a blank sky for answers to questions that keep you up at night (such as "how old is Vanna White?" or "will I always make bad choices or am I just on some 'bad choice making streak' that is sure to end soon with much fanfare and applause?"). After you have built the politically correct snowfamily complete with 2.3 children, or have become soaked from snow (and have begrudgingly realized that the answer to life's small questions are not going to be found in the lone cumulus cloud hanging like a chandelier directly above you), it's time to return inside and drink apple cider tartier than your cousin who used to be a hooker (I do not kid). For reasons unknown to me, it's imperative that your favourite toque stays on while you burn your throat drinking your favourite beverage in a mug that says " Everybody loves a friendly cheetah".

After you've consumed your little mug of heaven, a movie needs to be watched. I suggest forgoing anything heartbreaking (Andre, Shindler's List, Little Man Tate), extremely violent (No Tarantino) or any moving picture that includes Jessica Biel (oh wait, I can't even remember a movie she's been in). The perfect movie for "The Perfect Saturday" needs to be one you've seen before (the why of this will soon be explained). Perhaps "Good Will Hunting" or "Bottle Rocket" or "Casablanca" (the last has an astounding number of funny lines). After settling into the movie with a blanket, kleenex (if it's Casablanca) and Sunkist Vitamin C tablets (better than candy), it's important that you promptly fall asleep. (A good sleep while movie watching is only acceptable when it's a movie you've already seen, otherwise you should feel full of guilt sleeping through someones lifelong dream on screen).

Upon waking, it's imperative that you play, watch or coach something that involves cheering. A good cheer revitalizes the senses and gets the blood flowing (in a way that watching Shindler's List clearly cannot). In March I find this task especially exhausting but rewarding (staring at the creepy facial hair of Adam Morrison always gives me shivers), but one must find something to cheer for each Saturday in order for it to reach 'perfection'. I suggest college basketball, street hockey with illegal sticks and/or gluten free bake-offs. (Feel free to send the completed baking results to me).

What happens next is undecided and fully determined by personal choice, attitude and color of parachute. (Because clearly everything else is determined by fact). "The Pefect Saturday evening" is up for debate. Dinner, dancing, smoking cigars. Boardgames, cold drinks and victory dances. Cow-tipping, running and aliases. The rest is up to you, like a "choose your own adventure" minus the papercuts.

10 Lessons Learned From the Chicks I Know

It seems people read blogs, but instead of leaving comments, they email you directly to complain about what they don't like. Or better yet, they call you. (The 'better yet' isn't sarcasm, I'm bored out of my tree at work.) I have decided that in the fairness of all the lovely chicks I know to give them their own list...

1. How to chug a beer (classy, I know)
2. When to stop talking.
3. Two words: false eyelashes.
4. How to catch a gopher.
5. Soccer moms are hot.
6. How to run in high heels.
7. "It's difficult to do anything but love someone when that's exactly how you feel"
8. I could not date a man named Destiny.
9. Nothing happens if you don't show up.
10. Tequila makes me want to dance.

Everything else I learned from Mr. Dressup, National Geographic magazines, Martha Stewart, late night tv, or through the painful experience of trial and error.