"You Got Me Begging For Mercy, Why Won't You Release Me"

Last year I had made a bet with my cousin Marc. We had been sitting around the kitchen as usual, and it had been weeks of watching and listening to him cockily strut around that he just knew exactly what he was getting for his birthday. One for surprises, I'd had enough of his prodding and guessing, to shut the little punk up I blurted that I'd got him underwear. And they were pink. I figured hah, that'll show him. His face slowly morphed like a Looney Toons Cartoon, the elated smile he'd been wearing was turned down sharply at its sides. And then, just to show me, he perked right up, "No, you're not". Well I'm sure everyone here can imagine the childish teeter totter of arguing that ensued.

Even though I knew he was right, I did something next that perhaps turned the tables and made me into the cocky strutter. I bet him that I did, and he'd be sorry when he opened them up come January 18th. My Aunt wasn't much for children wagering any real money, so we bet something much much worse.

Two full minutes of non-stop tickling.

I knew I was in for it, but I couldn't help it with how ridiculously hilarious the two of us had become. Weeks passed, and of course I didn't subject the poor eleven year old to pink underwear. The day happened to fall after my first trip out on the ski hill, and in stiff movements I bowed my head. We had agreed to the terms, the commencement would take place in the upstairs jacuzzi tub, you know, in case accidents happened (Hey! Two minutes is a long time). Since I figured I'd be in for some thrashing, and to get an extra giggle from the kids I strapped on my snowboard helmet, complete with goggles and hopped in.

And you know the little bugger tickled me for nearly two whole minutes straight without a breath. It was truly one of the most overwhelmingly pricelessly hilarious moments of my entire life. I hope as he grows up I'll never forget the hoarse sound of his laugh as his hands jabbed mercilessly at my sides. This weekend I snuck up on him in a much quieter moment, at the piano his concentration was endearing, reminding me of the littler rotters sweeter side. (For a quick laugh there's an old snapshot of the ticklement of death at the bottom ;)












Haha!

"Tell Me You'll Open Your Eyes"

I have these moments, and I’m sure in an attempt to explain them I nearly always sound like I’m trying to take the academy from Jack Nicholson’s R.P. McMurphy.  But nonetheless I still have them.  Like warped intuition or a really distinctive gut feeling.  Only it’s not in my gut, it’s in my heart. It sneaks up on me quietly and then out of nowhere in the most remarkably ordinary moments of my life my heart clenches.  Again it’s a weird mix, almost like a slight stroke I’d imagine, very close to wicked heart burn; this throbbing like a flickering warning sign not of an impending heart attack, but rather to slow down, and just open your eyes.

.......The sea-doo tube knocking sluggishly against the dock, knees stickily stuck to Layne and Braye, my voice a steady whisper of Cullen History, warm hands curled into the sides of my arms.

.......Marwa's incredulous wide eyes over the bag of popcorn, the comfort in thinking the same thought, smiling the same smile, drooling the same drool.

.......The kitchen echoing with choking laughter, Aunty Pam's glowing eyes filled to the brim with my latest telling disaster.

.......My IPOD Shuffle skidding to a halt on The Plumb Song, "Feel I can Touch The Sky" down to the ends of my fingertips.

The pit of your happiness is in those simple moments, and if you breath in deep you can hold it carefully in your palm. I hope my heart never stops kicking me in the tush in reminder to cherish all that is so easily overlooked.

Here's a peek at my next happiness explosion blog post: **Fun Cabin Times** :)

"Trouble is her only friend, and he's back again"

There are few things in this life that I love more than live music.

Nearly twenty one years ago I attended my first, an amazing concert I'm told: Blue Rodeo live in the park. My Mum a music lover herself had brought me along, sharpied my name and address to my diaper and thus began my life long devotion to concerts and Jim Cuddy.

Last night James Blunt hit the Saddledome, and in two hours made me fall even more in love with his dreamy crooning. Here's some snapshots from the night:










**I had to include this next picture, at one point James ran around the arena and in my most heroic effort to capture a close up shot for Amanda, I stood precariously on the tip of my foldable chair, note: BAD IDEA! About 4.2 seconds after this shot was taken, the chair flipped and I want ass over face into the next row. Needless to say I didn't get the picture.



1973



The only thing better than James Blunt? James Blunt and confetti!





PS. I am going to the Twilight opening tonight, I will return tomorrow with amazing pictures of my obsessive fandom :)

"Oh Baby, Give me One More Chance, Won't You Please Let Me, Back In Your Heart"

Each Wednesday after my photoshop class, I plunk onto the bench outside of SAIT and wait for my bus. Route #19, its an accursed route I tell you, you've got to spin three times, while hopping on one leg, with one eye closed to even wildly hope that it might come on time. So when it came time for me to take up my usual seat, I thought twice, I was feeling invigorated, my newly snazzed up sharpening and dodging skills were pumping through my blood, heck why couldn't I just walk with all this pent up energy?

Fourteen blocks later, and my sixth patch of black ice later, I wasn't so invigorated. The cold had weaseled into the toes of my boots, and my scarf was frayed frozen at the ends, how on earth was I going to keep going for eight more blocks? And then I did what I do everytime I'm feeling sad or low...I took my Ipod off Shuffle, scrolled to J, and hit play to the perfect Motown Remedy, that's right: The Jackson 5: more specifically, "I Want You Back". I bounced, bopped and boogied the rest of the way, and managed to make it all in one piece, and in a perfectly decent mood. Feeling as bumpin' as I am I feel like dabbling with all my new mad photoshop skills, but I fear my pillow is hollering my name quite loudly.

Instead I'll leave you with this awesome picture of my desk, a shock indeed that it is somewhat clean. I think that's why I even took this shot, it's one in a series of several to show that I do sometimes actually clean my room, thank you very much! It's got several of my most favorite things in it: Finished scrapbook pages, Jim, BFF Photobooth Shots, and one of my favorite xmax frames of my family.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."

Calgary has been plowed over with several inches of snow and I've spent the last several days frolicking around and joyfully pulling out my Christmas stuff. My fingers are crossed tight, hoping that it'll all last till December 25th, I figured in between wrapping presents I could hop on here and answer a cute litle quick survey Catie tagged me in :)

Rules

- Link to the person who tagged me
- Mention the rules
- Reveal seven quirky and/or weird facts about yourself
- Tag seven other bloggers by linking to them
- Go to each of their blogs and leave a message letting them know they’ve been tagged!

You asked for it...well, actually you didn't, but here it is anyways:
- On my days off, I wear odd shoes.
- I hate when food touches on my plate.
- Baking sweets is one of my favorite things to do on days off.
- I watch White Christmas to solve any problem.
- The hum of dirtbikes at the ten second board is one of my favorite sounds in the whole world.
- I think Digital Scrapbooking is lazy, and nothing will ever replace flipping through a touchable album.
- My family attracts such disasters, that most now refer to us as "The Griswolds"...thank you Chevy Chase!

And I'm tagging: Marwa, Marissa, Caitlin, Michelle, Shelley, Mary, and Jason.

And since I am in such a fantastically Christmas-ey mood here's a shot of me and my and Layney Bugfy with our favorite pot-bellied man :)

"How Did We Get Here, I Think I Know How"

This morning I rode my bike to work, not as a heroic healthy choice in our below zero weather, but as the only alternative remaining in my losing battle with the snooze button. I clicked the horrifically unstylish helmet to my head, wiped the sleep out of my eyes and eased onto the cooly uncomfortable seat.

It took only five minutes before I questioned my very sanity. As someone who generally loves winter in it entirety I found myself grumbling obscenities to Jack Frost himself wishing for another layer, a sunny beach vacation, or even just a drop in the wind chill. Though I did manage to cruise into work, fly-aways absolutely everywhere and red-faced, I spent the next three hours drifting in and out of focused concentration and that longing for warmth.

I got home a little while ago, and in digging up on my old hard drive found these pics of us goofballs at the Cabin. While it's no Hawaii, I can definitely feel warmth when I look at them.

"What you feel is what you are, and what you are is beautiful"

Secrets. They’re everywhere.

Tenderly tucked into the pockets of our greatest hopes, whispered softly into the ears of loved ones, bellowed to empty fields, printed in the lines of a journals—they’re like magic, rarely touchable and nearly always invisible to even the most dedicated eye. And maybe that’s what makes them so special; they bypass our entire sensory system, we can’t see them, smell them, taste them, none of this, all we can do is feel them, and let them fill up our entire chest with that indescribable weighty delightfulness.

On Sundays, I pull up to my computer, my Jack Skellington mug full with tea, milk and two sugars, and for ten minutes I devour everyone’s postcard, their anonymous bravery to write to the universe their own secret. Whoever hasn’t heart of it, here’s the link:

I’ve posted a few below that have stuck with me: PostSecret














Had to throw this hilarious one in for good measure!

"Yes We Can"

Goosebumps. From the curves of my ears, to the tips of my toes.

The passionate realism that rang in the deep tones of his voice had those goosebumps tugging at the edges of my tears. His politics are so real, so passionate, so heart stoppingly human. I think the United States has a far way to come to rebuild their nation, but I think the choice that was made tonight is the first brick among many.

I am so proud to be part of a lifetime that gets to witness such a moment.

"They Say Home Is Where The Heart Is"

In one of the most defining moments of my life, I stood in the middle of a cabin, toes covered in dirt, hair knotted with lake water, eyes clouded with the jaggededness of old wounds, staring disbelievingly at Layne. I had just spent the last half hour wearing a patch in the hardwood with my incessant pace and grumbled insecurities, my disparing hope for a family had spread to every corner in the room, and in a heartbeat with the simplicity only an eleven year old could muster she had declared she would be my fubbubly. What a fubbubly is I'm still not sure we've fully defined, but in that moment, and every moment after it's been an inbetween line of more than family, more than cousin and sister and friend, so much so that I'm sure I'll never find that perfect word to describe the hooking of our elbows and twining of our hearts.

It's with a breath of utter contentment that I sit here, toes polished in 'it's up to you' blue, hair conditioned and combed, eyes mended with the patch of a good sewer that I can say Layne is part of the best family I could have ever wished for myself. I hope she always giggles from under my funny bone, and always catches in my throat with her surprising softness.

And it's because of all this, that despite my dreadful fear of horses, saddles and ponies that I followed her out to the barn and one of her great loves to document the sun on her face on a beautiful Sunday.









She likes to pretend sometimes I'm not the funniest person ever...


But really we all know better ;)