Murphy and I travel to Montreal

Apparently international travel is much simpler than domestic flights. I had absolutely no line at security. The TSA employee seemed to have forgotten why he was standing there before he remembered his responsibility to systematically violate my rights. Not only was security incredibly simple but it took me longer to put my shoes back on than it did to walk to my gate. Airports truly are the worst case of “hurry up and wait” that one can experience, except for maybe the ER. Nothing like feeling like you’re dying and being told someone else is dying just a bit more quickly than you so you’ll have to wait your turn – but I digress. All in all, the beginnings of my first foray into international travel have been stress free.  I did manage to embarrass myself by noticeably eaves dropping on a cute little old couple quietly speaking French to each other. The older man noticed and came over and talked to me since I was so obviously curious. He was kind and well-meaning but I kept my eyes firmly on my laptop screen throughout the rest of my wait. Nothing like a bit of embarrassment to round out your day.

I’m probably more excited than I should be about this but MY PLANE HAS PROPELLERS! I know, I’m a child but come on. It is cool. Of course there is a part of me, the part that is scared of things like death and that monster that lives in the basement that finds a propeller plane frightening. No one wants to fall out of the sky. Okay, maybe some people do but those people are crazy and usually have parachutes. I am not crazy nor do I have a parachute so I will stay firmly in the not-falling-out of-the-sky camp.

I don’t have a single plan for when I get there. I’m not even 100% sure how I’m getting from the airport to Nikki’s and frankly, I’m terrible excited about that. I’ve craved adventure and there is nothing like navigating public transit in a city where they don’t speak your native language. I rather look forward to putting my French skills to the test. I’ve never used it in a practical situation so we’ll see how that goes. I’ll either make a complete fool of myself or just embarrass myself a bit. It’s a toss-up.

It feels strange to travel without Professor. I love our adventures. He is surprisingly easy to travel with and has a fearless nature. I feel a bit guilty leaving him for the weekend but he will have a ton of fun with my parents. Besides, I consider this my test run. Learning to manage this on my own is the beginning of vacations and adventures with him down the road.

Of course, I forgot to run to the bathroom before I got on my flight. Murphy’s law  - When you have a window seat, you will have to pee. I didn’t eat lunch so of course I accepted the pretzels I was offered which then required I also have water but it is impossible to eat pretzels without something to drink. I sipped the water so as not to explode my bladder until turbulence hit. If you know anything about me, and you must since you’ve read this far, you’ll know that I am a walking accident waiting to happen. I watched as the water sloshed in my cup with each pocket of air we hit. My choices were immediately apparent. I could either watch my water inevitably spill on me and to the full effect of embarrassment, likely the person sitting next to me OR I could punish my bladder further and hope to God that I can hold it to Toronto. I’ve now made a bad situation even worse and my bladder will seek revenge (hopefully when I’m old and don’t give a damn that I’ve pissed myself).

On a giggle-worthy note I only just now realized that my calendar reminder that pops up on my phone at 5pm every day reminding me to not be a lazy student is abbreviated. So instead of “Read Assignments” my phone kindly reminds me, every day at 5pm to “READ ASS”. Thanks, phone.

I’d like to add that I consider it barbaric that there is no Wifi on my flight. Get with it, Air Canada. Mama needs to get her fix. I mean I’ve resorted to offline blogging to get by. There are better methods to put off the reading on Islamic history I’m supposed to be doing and I’m absolutely disappointed at Air Canada but not better supporting my internet addiction. 

My life is a little different from the usual

Today:

Professor excitedly put together water molecules with his new model kit.

I discussed the progression and perceived passage of time in relation to technology, wars and generations referencing personal genealogy, and two of my favorite doctors - Suess and "Who".

I read an assigned article for a presentation due next week. I enjoyed the hell out of it.

Professor asked to be taught math with negative numbers.

I took a nap, which is not unusual for most people but something I usually only do when I'm very sick.

Normal is boring.

The Happiness Project - Part 2

The day after my last post I started my day with the will and determination to make my dreams came true. Nothing could harsh my buzz as it were. That was until the first true challenge to the Happiness Project took me down a peg or five. I discovered I don't meet the requirements for my top pick school. All of the dreams I had built around it came crashing down around me. True to my nature, I cried. I yelled. I was angry, at myself, at how fucking hard everything always seems to be. It isn't easy to give up a dream or even delay it for a more practical route. I did the whole self-pity bullshit for the day. OK and a little the next day too...BUT the point is, the goal of the Happiness Project is to not just make myself happy through action but to learn how to be happy while I wait for the results. Patience is not a virtue that comes to me naturally.

So I've reevaluated. I'm going to go the path of least resistance - however boring it may be. I'm going to attend a nearby college which will give me the Bachelor's in History I want and also allow me to complete my French minor, something I need if I want to pursue a Master's in History -which I do.

In addition to enrolling in school, I have decided to love my space. This isn't like the decluttering I mentioned previously. This is about taking a room that I despise - I mean really fucking resent - and turning it into my little piece of the world. What that really comes down to is spending a lot of time on Pinterest. I haven't picked out anything final but I'm pretty sure it is going to involve lots of Doctor Who inspired artwork. I'm a huge nerd, what can I say.

I've also treated myself to a new desktop computer. I haven't had my own computer for years so this is a real treat for myself. The intention is that my own computer will enable me to focus better on school work. It also functions as motivation. I have to earn this computer. This isn't a gift, this is a reward for things yet to come. Side note: When the hell did they start putting 2 terabyte hard drives in the average computer?!

Now, I just have to get my dad to install my closet. My clothes are currently EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE!

The Happiness Project: Because Being Sad is Bullshit - Part One

I've been floating along the river of life with a hole in the bottom of my boat. It isn't that I didn't know it was there. I just couldn't find the time or energy to care, let alone fix it. So I'd take a bucket to it every once in a while, cursing life and telling the universe it can go fuck itself as I scooped out just enough to stay afloat. Eventually you just let the water level rise because what's the point, it'll just refill anyway.

So I'm slowly sinking. My boat is filled with all of the things I haven't dealt with and I'm about to drown. Not literally of course. This is a metaphorical drowning. Just as I feel like I'm headed towards the intersection of "Woe-is-me" and "Pittyville", I have an epiphany. Being sad is BULLSHIT! I don't have to be sad! I can do something about this! I know how to fucking swim!

I've decided to build a new boat, one that doesn't have a hole this time, maybe even with a jacuzzi or a ferris wheel. The point is, I'm not going to just let life happen. I've decided to start my own happiness project because dammit, I deserve it.

The Happiness Project is a multifaceted effort. The first part is about cutting the crap. This means a few things, like decluttering my room. Decluttering my room is much more difficult than it sounds because I share my space with Professor. I've had to make decisions on whether to keep the Batman or the T-rex. These are hard decisions people! I probably would have gotten more done if I didn't have to stop every 20 minutes to deal with a slight panic attack over how overwhelming this whole thing really is. After all, hitting the reset on your life isn't a small thing. Cutting the crap also means no more excuses, no more negative thought patterns. If being sad is bullshit, then continually making myself sad is the bull who produces said shit.

The second part of The Happiness Project is creating new habits. Did you know it only takes 20 minutes to do the dishes and put a load of laundry in the washing machine?! My lazy ass had no fucking clue. So now I have a reminder set every day to actually get up and be useful for 20 minutes. Gotta love those high expectations.

The other new habit I'm working on is being more put together with the way I dress. Mind you, you'll very rarely see me looking like a slob. It is one of my endearing psychotic tendencies that I must be presentable at all times. However, if I want to feel collected and polished I need to actually do more than brush my hair and put on make-up. For girls this usually means *accessories!*. I love accessories but I'm so damn disorganized that by the time I have the basics done in the morning - like deodorant and shoes - it is time for me to be out the door. It may seem silly but knowing that my shoes match my outfit and that I took the extra ten minutes to put on jewelry - Clasps are hard. Don't judge me.- really makes a different in how I feel and function throughout the day.

The final phase I'll discuss in my next post. Until then enjoy this clip from one of my favorite musicals "Starship Ranger" by Starkid Productions. The song seemed fitting.

Ice Cream Man Turf Battle

I heard this story on the radio this morning and I couldn't resist sharing it for Funny Friday. Two ice cream men have a turf war and amazing puns ensue.

The Real Disaster Wednesday

The real disaster Wednesday began in the quiet of early morning. It began like so many natural disasters do, with an eruption. I will spare you the details but I will say this; You know you truly love your child when you run towards the spewing and sputtering rather than away from it. After a shower Professor seemed fine but tired. I sent him off to bed where he played video games and lounged for a few hours.

Around noon he came to me and said the most beautiful phrase I have ever heard him utter, "Mom, I'm tired." I asked him if he wanted to take a nap and when he replied "Yes." the clouds parted and the angelic Hallelujah chorus rang out. It was a Disaster Wednesday miracle.

He slept and seemed better when he woke up. I gave him toast late in the evening after he complained of being hungry. I should have known better. Professor has a sensitive stomach. Once the eruptions begin you need to wait 24 hours before it is safe to return to our usual routine. That isn't to say he doesn't eat but I know that eating is a dangerous venture. However, ten hours had passed since the last incident so I felt a false sense of security. The second piece of toast should have had my brain screaming **DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!** but alas, it did not.

He went to bed and when I checked him my motherly instinct was to cuddle the poor kid. My instincts could not have been more wrong. A gentle rocking was all it took to set him off again. I bathed him and changed my blankets decided I should probably turn in early myself since this was likely to continue. I was just starting to relax with Professor snuggled up beside me when I heard him cough and then gag a little. I asked him if he was going to throw up. He said no and the moment I was relaxed again he proceeded to prove himself wrong. Not only was he wrong but he made sure it landed both on the bed and between the bed and the wall. So again, I cleaned him up and changed the sheets. And that was the end of Disaster Wednesday, thankfully.

During the second half of this venture I also learned that my Dad, a regular victim of Murphy and his twice damned law, had been suffering through a Disaster Wednesday of his own. Having picked up his utility trailer from a family member, he was driving down the road when the entire wheel just fell off. He thinks someone may have purposefully loosened the bolts. Not only was the trailer damaged but it also took four hours for the right tow truck to show up. First, they sent a regular tow truck but a whole new company had to be contacted since a flatbed was necessary.

All in all, it was a typical Disaster Wednesday. What can go wrong will.

Disaster Wednesday: The Hair Disaster

Every girl has had a bad hair day at some point. I've been having a bad hair year. You see, I grew up with straight hair. It was never great but it was predictable. I knew how much conditioner to use and what hair cut  looked best. Over the past year my hair has betrayed me. My trust was broken when I awoke one morning to find that my straight, boring hair was wavy. Not only has my hair become wavy but it has become progressively more wavy over the past few months.

At first I was overjoyed. I had always been envious of those curly haired folk with their lustrous locks. But my happiness quickly soured. I had, and still have, no idea how to take care of my new mane. I've done the research and it is dizzying. I used to use whatever cheap shampoo smelled nice and conditioned every other day (at most). Now I must attempt to be sulfate and silicone free while learning exactly how much conditioner I need for my suddenly dry and frizzy hair. I've learned about co-washing (washing only the scalp with shampoo and the rest with conditioner). I've also learned I shouldn't brush my hair, a habit which is incredibly difficult to break.

After all of this research one would think that I had found the solution to taming my now wavy/curly hair but that would be wrong, very very wrong. I still have no idea how to style my hair and every day is a crapshoot  ending in a combination of curly/wavy/straight hair.