Kids Are Trading Cards, Right?

For most people, the decision to move is a major one. It requires thought, planning, and money. It means leaving everything behind and starting a new life. There are good reasons to move. It could be for a new job, health concerns, or because a fortune cookie dared you. People move all the time. But don't fool yourself. While it doesn’t change who you are, it does change you.

Someone who shall remain nameless, let’s call him “Dad”, had the bright idea to move this weekend. What was his reasoning? Three out of four of his kids don’t live here. He didn’t see the sense of staying in Racine for one kid. No other considerations crossed his mind. Apparently you can snap your fingers and be in another city. (If only it were that simple.) It’s possible I’m jealous; his whole life would move with him. How's that possible? Hint: it’s his television.

I should be happy he considered me at all. Traditionally he hasn’t. Sorry Dad, I’m too horrified that you pitted your kids against each other.

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it's a small world

This week we have a foreign exchange student job shadowing at our company. Since she is studying for Administrative Assistant, she has been working with us in the front office. Whenever you’re showing someone your job, you realise how dreadfully boring everything is. Yes, it keeps me occupied, but no one cares to hear about it. When people ask about your day, they don’t care about the tasks you completed, they’re interested in the drama or human interactions you had. “How was your day at the office honey?” “Great! I collated paper!”

She plays along nicely though and I shouldn’t be embarrassed. She works in her office herself and can relate to boring work. The biggest different she pointed out was the amount of meetings. She said her company only had meeting when they "had something new to talk about". Clever!

We bounced her around the company and hopefully the day wasn't too long for her. If nothing else, I imagine the language barrier and culture differences kept her interested.

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Your Dog Freaks Me Out

I don’t believe in luck. Sure people or happenstances can seem lucky, but so what? It comes down to odds. It's why I don’t like gambling; they're against you. On Monday, they were working overtime.

While flying back from Florida, we were in a giant line to get through security. Thousands of people were trying to get through to hundreds of airport terminals. The only thing we had in common? The fact we were trying to leave Florida that morning. We could be traveling to anywhere in the world. The couple behind us was returning home to Japan. Directly in front of us, a girl had a carry-on with a puppy inside. This fascinated me. You can take live pets on a plane? Does it go through the metal detector? Where does it go on the plane? I took pictures.

We board our flight and I’m still talking about the crazy dog. At this time, it’s pointed out to me: She’s sitting in the seat directly behind me. How is that even possible? If beating the odds equals being lucky, I want a lottery ticket.

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The Eighty Dollar Nap

Last weekend was Racine’s Brewfest. It’s a fundraiser for the Kilties and my favourite event of the year. If you’ve never gone, you walk around, sample amazing microbeers, and see the Kilties perform. We go every year and drool over the VIP perks (early admission, t-shirts, beer stein, etc). This year we decided to pay extra to be VIP. (It seemed like a good idea when we bought the tickets in May.)

The first hour of Brewfest was perfect. The VIP crowd was manageable, lines were nonexistent, and the beer tasted amazing. After they opened the gates for general admission I decided I needed to slow down. I had another four hours to drink tasty beers. Long story short, after mixing as many samples as I did, slowing down didn’t help. I was done drinking after the first two hours. Not waiting to miss the Kilties perform, I decided to sit and wait for them. As brilliant as this was, it backfired. I slept through the entire performance. In a crowd of 1500 drunks, I took a nap. How cool am I?

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Horror Drama

I have contempt for the Final Destination movies. I saw the first one and it still strikes fear into me. I know it’s a horror movie and it’s supposed to have that effect. Unlike other horror flicks, Final Destination has two major differences for me: 1) Horror movies don’t normally scare me. I love gore and believe every film needs a proper decapitation. 2) The fear should dissipate after the movie ends. Final Destination created new idiosyncrasies for me. On every flight, I check my tray table to make sure the latch isn’t broken. One day, it will break and it will be extremely difficult to stay on the plane.

Good movies should shock you and make you question what you know. I admit that I have a strange sense of humour and a twisted definition of morality. My tastes in movies reflect that. It’s possible Final Destination struck too close to my pre-existing fear of flying. I hear the other two movies don't involve a fatal plane crash. I could watch them, but I doubt it’s worth my time.

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I Need To Know

Our company is located in a... decent area. I don’t recommend walking down the street but it’s fine to drive down. With an emphasis on manufacturing, rather than retail or residential, there’s little reason for foot traffic. Yet this doesn’t seem to stop people. They appear out of nowhere with strange requests. I’ve had people want water, a phone book, or directions on how to get across the street (the building is literally as large as a city block, yet somehow invisible).

I try to accommodate most of the requests. I’ve looked up phone numbers or let some visitors take my entire candy jar. I figure if they’re desperate enough to ask, I don’t mind helping them out. Today a lady pushing a baby stroller came in. I guess she was out for a lovely stroll in the (neighbour)hood. I was more fascinated that she was around 7 months pregnant and desperate for a bathroom. I obliged (what other bathroom was she going to find?) but I’m left wondering; where the heck was she going, on a scenic tour?

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The Little Blue Can

There comes a point when being tired isn’t solved by caffeine. On our marathon road trip we drove 28 hours straight. My driving was minimal but there’s something about being in a car for that long. After hour 20, I decided to drink a Red Bull. (I adore that little blue can. So much so that it’s a special treat.) It didn't help. I was still seeing the back of my eyelids more than I care to admit.

Here’s where I get a bright idea. I stopped at the nearest gas station and picked up a 5-Hour Energy Shot. It guaranteed no crash and sounded like a good idea. Obviously there were two flaws with this idea. The first was I had never had one before and didn’t know how I would react. The second was I had forgotten about the Red Bull. All I knew was the bottle was tiny and I was tired. What I didn’t know is instead of being awake and productive, I would be jittery and suffering chest pain. The next few hours were interesting if nothing else. I’m happy I only spent $3 to simulate a heart attack.

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