Need-To-Know Basis

So I haven't written anything in ages—I've been 'busy.' Watching Bones. So far I'm done up to Season Four, Episode Ten. One and a half seasons left until I'm done all that Netflix has to offer! I have to say, I love this show. Zack Addy is one of my favourites, and so is Brennan, of course. I love her wardrobe…! Plus the music on the show is fantastically perfect for me. So, I'm using my baby blanket as an excuse to sit in front of the computer for hours, 'embroidering' and watching TV.

The real reason I got spurred to write today, though…slightly odder.

I'm the sort of person that always has to know. Tell me to do something, first thing I'll ask is 'Why?' It's not me being offensive, or insubordinate (mostly!), I simply need to know. I don't trust  without proof, I suppose.

So, more to the point of the story—I received a Secret Santa this year for the holiday I don't celebrate. (Atheist!) It was apparently put into the backyard, by the back door. So, it's someone that knows me, where I live…and was present for or around a certain conversation I had about a month ago.

During my November Book Club, I talked with someone about our local holiday festival, and what she had purchased for the silent auction to bid on. It was a 2012 Holiday Barbie, and I mentioned that (despite how much I disagree with Barbie now that I can actually look at evidence) I had always wanted one, with the pretty dress and fancy presentation.

So, today I unwrapped the mystery gift…and it was a 2012 Holiday Barbie, with these tags.

To Mahara from Santa.

Dear Mahara—Santa says "once in a lifetime" —Wishing you a wonderful Christmas—Santa

The thing is, I don't recognize the writing. I thought it might be my 'Mom,' but it's not hers. And it's not my mother's writing, either. Not her ex's, not the kids', not anyone I know. 

The weird thing? The signature on the small tag is almost exactly like the ones I remember from the 'Santa' letters that used to be left at our house after 'he' visited. So…I don't know. The writing doesn't look forced to me, like someone's trying to mask their patterns. It looks genuine.

One thing is for sure, it's genuinely confusing!

What's the most surprising, and pleasant, gift you've received? How did you react?

Well Okay Then

I had the weirdest dream last night…I was a detective-type, working with my mother (who wasn't my mother in the dream), to solve a crime that a friend of mine had done. Then his partner in crime, a client of mine (whaaa?) told us where to find him…and that four eight years she had pretended to be his young daughter, as that made it easier to panhandle. I guess they lived on the street—but now they were lovers.

So then when we found my friend, he told us about his 'school' days, and we walked up this impossible long staircase to the top, where his art class had laid all their projects (I think the only class was art).

It was a really slippery mountain thingy, so I kept slipping and sliding off the ramp the art was on—I ended up practically laying on the art to stay up.

My friend's art was really good—it told stories relevant to the conversation we'd had on the stairs, about bacteria in rubbing alcohol, and how it would kill you. Then on the flip side, it looked good at start, but when the teacher came over, we started critiquing it and it was lousy (but still the best ever, I think).

One of the mediums used was my makeup…my powder foundation was used a lot…I think that was it.

Then, we started talking about the lines of the drawing, and suddenly the teacher and I are altering the art, and he's asking my how far I want the letters to go down, do I want them to block the_____?

That's when my alarm rang.

Can anyone analyse dreams? What does this one mean…??

Deck The STRESS With Boughs Of HEAD-DESK!

Today, the only thing that's really sticking out for me is how much I hate this time of year. Rather, I hate the stress that permeates it. The whole 'feel good, peace love and joy' stuff is great, but throw on some 'I've got to find gifts!' to some 'When does this need to be shipped by—yesterday?!' and a dash of 'Now I have to have "family time!"' and it sucks.

I honestly can say that my favourite part of the season is after the big holiday (that I don't even celebrate!) and before New Year's Eve. I can do New Year's, though usually with a very dear friend/cousin/sister/mind-mate of mine. (Unfortunately, seeing as neither of us are going to visit family down South, we won't get to have our holiday together, second year in a row!)

Other than New Year's, I'm really not into this whole holiday stuff. I shudder to think of how I'd incorporate that into child raising, should that be an option. Dear heavens, my child would be messed in the head!

What about you—what do, or don't, you celebrate? Why? How does your family act around that …occasion…?

What A Rush!

This weekend has been both hectic and oddly relaxed. Actually, I suppose the hectic started Thursday—I found out I'm eligible for a French exchange this summer, and I desperately want to go. I'd be spending July with a family in France, then someone in that family, my exchange partner, would come back to Canada with me in August. Wow. 

It's fairly expensive, for eight weeks, but wouldn't it be worth it? It's about four thousand dollars, plus spending money…and I'd be taking a sever loss of pay. So really, the financial cost is huuuuuge. Almost, if not more, than next year's tuition.

Speaking of tuition…Friday, I got a letter from my second choice school, saying they've offered me early/conditional acceptance to the program! Then Saturday (…yesterday!) I checked online for my first choice's decision, to see if they'd started processing my application.

Guess what?

Early Acceptance, baby!

Oh sweet mother of toasters. This is fabulous! The only things missing in my application are A) my final transcripts, which will be sent in June; and B) an application/ approval for residence. (At this school, any first-year under twenty-one is required to live in res. Fine with me!)

So wait, what does this mean? It means next year, I don't have to go to my third-choice school and stay out here in Asscrack, Alberta. (My school is is Lower Back, Alberta—slightly less stinky!) And while this means I am unable to go to my true fist choice, U of Stirling, I'm okay with that. I doubt I'd be able to handle the distance right away, anyway. And the price…one hundred thousand for my Undergrad degree. I'll go there for a Master's in a few years.

Now that that's all out of the way…I've been baking! My pudding for Book Club went well, and the author we had visit wants to read my stuff for when she does her Writer in Residence in March. Very exciting. 

As for today, I'm in the middle of baking right now!

The recipe is taking a lot longer to cook than expected, but that's normal for this elevation. I'm making White Chocolate-Orange-Cranberry Blondies. 

YUM.

Well, I suppose I should head off, make sure these goodies are all right. I'm so excited to eat one!

What's your favourite winter baking? Can you make it yourself or does it come from another's kitchen?

Centurion

So I went to check my visitor stats today…I've had exactly one hundred visitors. Amazingly, to me, almost half of those visitors are from Russia…the Canada, then the US.

It was a bit odd for me. Also, I have to say I didn't expect this many people to read my blog—one oro two hits at most!

I really don't know where I'm going with this…but I wanted to celebrate!

H-2-Outstanding

So, everyone always says that the water here sucks—I an usually smile and nod along. After nearly six years, I don't notice it unless it gets really bad.

Then today, I forgot my water bottle—filled with Town water—at home, so my Zumba teacher let me use her spare.

Ohmigoodness.

What a difference! It was like…I dunno, bottled water? Maybe she uses bottled water, in the giant jugs, and transfers it into the reusable bottles, or maybe the water where she is is really that good. Whatever it is, I'm dreading making my bag up for tomorrow—the water will taste horrid in comparison!

Awesomely Spread Out

I've been told to, and I quote, "write about how awesome you are [I am]." Well, I don't think I'll fulfill that, not tonight. 

I'm writing about how thinly spread I am—and how I keep finding new pieces of bread to cover. You'd think I'd learn. And I know I've done lots of the 'look how busy I am,' but the truth is that I don't know how to do anything else. I hardly even notice most of the time—it's simply what I do. 

When I do notice it, it's when I get tired all the time—then I sleep a bit extra on the weekend (when I can find one…!) and it's more or less better. Something that always makes me think, then quickly stop thinking, is a little happening from earlier this year.

I was in the preliminary process of applying to a Rotary exchange two and a half months ago (turns out, I'm too close to being your Granny's age to go), but I asked a question that set this off:

"Will I be able to work while overseas?"

The answer?

"No."

I was shocked. Then…lost. What would I do without my work? I've worked almost non-stop since I was thirteen—that's when I got my first 'real' summer job. (There was one when I was eleven , but it only lasted two months, and no one likes to acknowledge it.) Since then, I've only ever not worked when I got laid off a few months before summer, when I was fifteen—and I got hired back on for the summer, anyway. That summer I actually worked two jobs…the most I've ever done at once is three. (Though I can't recall what the third was, I simply remember that there were three.)

Now, I suppose I will give in and write yet another list of what I do—but this, instead of being actual paid work, is wholly volunteer.

Monday/Wednesday—Grade Two helper for 1.5 hours or so each day

Tuesday/Thursday—Kindergarten helper for 1.5 hours or so each day

Friday/Saturday/Sunday—One or more hockey games, 2+ hours a game, on semi-regular weekends. For these, I do the announcing, when the mic works. 

As a side note, that last might not be valid any more…turns out there's been some turmoil within the Hockey club/team. I may be out of a gig!

To get the full picture as to what it is I'm doing during the workweek, take into account that I have classes from 0900-1020. I volunteer from 1030-1145/1200. Then classes 1230-1515. After that, I work and such.

And as of next Monday (IknowIcanIkowIcanIknowIcan), I will be a certified, trained, High School First Responder. Meaning I'm the step between 'you're hurt/sick' and the ambulance—highly simplified, of course.

The issue? While I'm on duty, I cannot leave my high school.

Yeah. Minor problem there, eh?

But hopefully to fix it, I've filled in this lovely chart.

Think I'll get this figured out? Yeah, me too. 

So, here's the question: Have you ever overbooked or double booked yourself? When? How'd you get out of it? 

I realize, looking back, that this is far from the first time….