My boyfriend scares me sometimes.

This post is a short preamble to the longer post with pictures that I have planned, that i may or may not get around to writing, of our adventures in the Bruce Peninsula.  Now that Blogger's iPad page has an actual editor, I may get around to posting more.  Also, it's my birthday today, so feel free to fawn accordingly in the comments.

So, this weekend The Guy For Whom I Have Not Come Up With A Good Blog Alias™ who for the purposes of this post, I shall refer to as My Navigator and I took a trip up to Tobermory, Ontario.  One of the stops was to the Bruce Caves, just outside of Wiarton, Ontario.  This conversation happened.

Approximately 1.5 hours before getting to Wiarton, we're looking at the map.  Navigator claims he has never been to these caves before. I'm a little skeptical, since he is one who has Been Many Places, but he insists so I believe him.

Navigator:  So, we have to turn onto Grey Road 1, but since it's in town, it'll probably be called something different.  I dunno, something like "Frank Street".
Me:  It'd be funny if it was actually called Frank Street.

1.5 hours later, we are in Wiarton, driving around getting gas, food and Tim Hortons coffee.  We turn onto a side street.  It's Frank Street.

Me: Whoa, there actually is a Frank street here.
Navigator: weird.
Me:  Heh.  I wonder if that's the road we have to take? That'd be freaky.

We go get coffee and he goes to check the directions to Grey Road one.  He gets back in the car.

Navigator: Okay, so we have to take a right out of the parking lot and another right at the lights. 

So, following his instructions, I take a right out of the parking lot, and a right at the lights.  The street we turn onto, which we have been told is Grey Road 1, looks familiar.

Navigator:  Look.
Me:  Holy shit.  Frank Street? 

Navigator: yup.
Me:  *blinks*  You're fucking scary.

700km, an Off-Roading PT Cruiser and the Faint Sound of Banjos, part 3 (the not-so-dramatic conclusion)

Part One

Part Two

So it looks like this, the third part in my "What I Did A Few Weeks Ago" trilogy will likely be the shortest of the series, as my memory is getting increasingly fuzzy. But, hey, I don't want to leave anyone hanging. In other news, holy crap! TWO posts in one week. How about that??

So Sunday we woke up by the faint light of the sun rising over the blueberry stand across the highway, groggy and stiff from trying to stay comfortable in the back of the Cruiser. Not an easy feat, as he's not one to be scrunched up to sleep and although i generally tend to curl up in the fetal position to sleep, I was trying to remain somewhat conscious of not kicking or hitting the poor man in my sleep. Which I am told, I have a tendency to do.  Sleeping me is quite violent.

This is possibly the shittiest sunrise picture ever taken.  I took this one.

Watching the condensation slowly evaporate, we had a pre-breakfast breakfast of coffee from the Tim Hortons in whose parking lot we spent the night and glorious sweet chelsea buns from the bakery in Bancroft we had visited the previous day. Finishing up, I got tired of watching condensation evaporate (because yes, that IS as boring as it sounds) and rather unsuccessfully tried to dry it up with my t-shirt.

Pre-Breakfast Breakfast.  Tim Hortons, I want some royalties for this.

After getting on the road, our first stop for the Morning was at Cordova Falls, which is just outside of the little mining town of Cordova Mines. Cordova Falls, to date, has probably been the least Impressive of our waterfall hunting excursions, but that may be a result of it being both a dammed (as opposed to damned) waterfall and it being later in the season. I will say I was impressed seeing the pennstock for the dam. Impressed that it had not burst, as this old wooden contraption looked about 60years old and was sprouting leaks all over, some of which had been lovingly and not-at-all-half-assedly patched up with various bits of wood, some of which were jammed right into the leaky spots.

That's Reassuring.

Once we had fully explored the Upper and Middle Falls, we decided to skip the Lower Falls and head to town to see if we could actually locate THE Cordova mine. The town of Cordova Mines, Ontario is a fairly small one, almost a ghost town now. We knew the mine had to be about 4km from the dam we had just visited, as that was what the sign at the dam had told us.

If you can't trust a historical plaque, who can you trust?

One trail that we found almost took us all the way there, we discovered upon checking the maps at home. It started out near a small community hall, the type with a park and picnic benches and tables under shady trees, the type of place one could envision town picnics being held generations before. We braved the path as far as Petey would take us, at one point traversing a ground level river crossing. But beyond this we found a heavy gate with a variety of "No Tresspassing" signs. Later we would find out that what we were looking for was just on the other side.

Those aren't puddles.. that's the river creeping across the path.

...Just in case you didn't believe me.

Giving up on finding the mine, we headed to Peterborough for Actual-Breakfast and to see the Peterborough lift locks.  I can't remember all the ins and outs of how these locks actually work.. it has something to do with water displacement is all I recall.  I'm going to let the wonder that is Wikipedia fill all the dirty details in for you and just say that they were impressive and cool to watch.. we got there just as the first boat of the day was crossing.

See? Impressive.

Breakfast was had at one of GFWIHNCUWAGBA's (okay, acronyms clearly aren't an option here) favoured establishments.  Good potatoes, good eggs.. toast was a little too dark, bacon too crispy.  Good coffee and I got to find out just what in the hell 'Beaver Balls' were.

Turns out, they're basically like Beaver Tails (which I think may be known to people in other countries as Elephant Ears) but in ball form.  The More You Know.  At least they aren't some bizarre Fear-Factor inspired delicacy.  Although I still say that eating bull testicles would have been child's play had Joe Rogan just battered and deep-fried them.

However, I digress.

This was my first ever visit to Peterborough (with the possible exception of visiting my grandfather in hospital shortly before his passing, but that may have been Bancroft hospital) so he took me on a bit of a tour around the downtown and through some of the riverfront parks.  Having been up since about 6am we had made fantastic time to get to Peterborough, look around and still have time to visit my Nanny on the way home.  We got hit with the rain about 40 minutes before Nanny's house, after a weekend of otherwise lovely weather.  So that was lucky.

**************************************

In other news, I'm making a concerted effort to post more.  I've missed it.  I kind of put myself on hiatus writing at Different Paths, Same Destinations when I ran out of fucks to give in regards to my weight-loss efforts. I get the feeling I'm not the only one on a break.  Hopefully the other girls will come back and start posting again.  But we all have lives, and busy ones at that.

My posts here will probably focusing on my day-to-day stuff for the next little bit as I will be saving some of my social-issues ranty type stuff for a two-week guest blogging stint at Feministe (*geekyfangirlsquee*).

Say it with me, Sally Field.  "THEY LIKE ME!"

I'm ridiculously honored to have been asked to submit.  Like, stupidly so.  Like being asked to the cool girls house for a sleepover.  Except I get to write a lot.  So look for my posts over there during the last two weeks of July.

700km, an off-roading PT Cruiser and the faint sound of banjos part 2 (NOW WITH PICTURES!)

Wow. I'm really sucking out at this regular-blogging thing. Looking at part two of my mini-road trip post and it's been two weeks already.

I've been trying like hell to get some stuff done today and it's just not happening so I figure I'll blog a bit and completely unapologetic in my utter laziness today and then stress later when I don't have shit for time to get stuff done.

Sound like a plan? Thought so.

So after leaving Musky Bay, we got back in the car and headed for Egan Chute, which is a collection of falls in an inactive provincial park surrounded with old mines and quarries.

The area is known for a wide array of mineral deposits and the Rock Jamboree is a big thing every year. Funnily enough, tourist sites encourage rock collectors to the area but The parks department really really don't want you to do that, because of the eventual degradation of the area from people chipping away at the cliffs and caves and whatnot. It's not cool.

Oh, here's the road we had to go down to get to the chute.  Original 100 series highway.. this is proof positive that 'Paved Road' and 'Sketchy as Fuck Road' are not mutually exclusive.

"Do you hear banjos? I hear banjos."

I had made previous allusions to my vague fear of heights. I can stand at the top of the CN Tower and look straight down withougt blinking an eye, but I'm not so hot with climbing.. Especially climbing DOWN stuff. So Guy For Whom I Have Not Come Up With A Good Blog Alias™ got to be witness to me having a full on panic attack trying to scale down a loose dirt path with a steep drop on one side after stupidly trying to follow after he says "I'm going down here, you don't have to follow me.".

Because, you know, I'm a sport.

Harrowing, but totally worth it.  This is me getting my heart rate back to normal.

Got down eventually, with much whimpering and crying and shaking. Thankfully, the scenery was well worth my sheer terror and the climb back up after looking around was much easier an quicker. At the end of the chute was a pond and a small sandy beach so I was inclined to get the kit off and go for a swim. It was glorious, although I decided to come in when it was pointed out that the current was still strong enough to carry me off my path. The sand in the water was flecked with bits of what may have been fools gold but it sparkled amazingly when you stirred up the dirt.

Glittery.

We made a few attempts to locate some of the old mines in the area, but since we were losing light and the bugs were coming out (after I pulled about six dead deer flies from my hair) it was time to press on and find somewhere to sleep for the night. Somewhere came in the form of a Tim Horton's parking lot in Madoc. We had originally stopped for coffee in Kaladar but the only coffee we found was a gas station Country Style with a self serve carafe that looked a safe bet to have been sitting there since morning. So on to Madoc we went, drinking coffee and discussing the best part of the parking lot set Petey for for the night while we slept in the back, unnoticed by passers-by.

Jacques Cartier, right this way...

So last Friday I booked the day off,  booked and hotel for the girls and I, and embarked on the roughly 1000km road from our little dollhouse to Quebec City.  The girls had gotten the bug after I had told them of the trip I took out there a few years ago.  At the time I had taken five days with plans to hit Ottawa, Montreal and if time allowed, Quebec City.  My itinerary was pretty loose, in fact, I really didn't know where I was staying each night until I got there.  I guess it sounded like a pretty fun adventure, so they got on a thing about going to Quebec City as well, and I had said maybe this summer, if we can find the time and the money.

It so happened I had one last vacation day left for this year, and the ex-hub's current wife was going to be laid up due to surgery, so instead of trying to scramble for daycare for two days I figured I'd get daycare for the one day and book the friday off.  It then dawned on me that this was the Friday before Labour day so there was our 'time'.   Still didn't *really* have the money but I DID have the available credit.

I'm usually loathe to put ANYTHING on my credit cards, but with saving for a house I've been scrimping and saving to death and sometimes it feels like I'm missing out on a lot with the kids because I'm always having to say no.

So I said yes (well, actually I probably said "fuck it!") and we were off.

The basic plan was this:

• Drive to Ottawa Friday.  Stay with friends.  Visit Ottawa either Friday night upon arrival, or Saturday morning before pushing on to Quebec
• Stay two nights in Quebec city, having the full day Sunday to explore the city.
• Get up stupidly early Monday morning and book it all the way home in time for dinner.

You'll note that I didn't leave room to visit Montreal.  That is because I don't care much for Montreal.  As someone rather directionally challenged, the roundabouts and one-way streets disagreed with me.

Anyway, a few days beforehand I contacted a friend of mine in Ottawa who I hadn't seen in some time and asked if they would be around.  In an ironic twist of fate, her response was "No, we're not home that night and I really hope you're not telling me you're going to be in Ottawa because we're going to be in the Harbour.  I was going to come see you."

I am the QUEEN of lousy timing.

So via the Facebook, I put out word that the kiddies and I were seeking accomodations for the night in the Ottawa area.  A friend and former co-worker extended an invitation for us to stay with her and her boyfriend so that was set.  I booked a room at a Super 8 in QC (a pretty cool family suite with bunk beds for the kids, and an XBox 360 in-room that we never ended up using) and we were off.

On the way, we stopped in this awesome hippie store in Sebright, ON.  I just spent about fifteen minutes trying to find out what the place is called, with no luck.

There was a giant Betty Boop statue out front and the front doors and windows were covered with tons of pro-choice, pro-gay, pro-pagan, left-wing slogans and bumper stickers.  An old-fashioned triangle hung near the wooden screen door.

Inside was even cooler though.  They sold imported and old-fashion type pop in glass bottles.  The ceiling was covered in old vintage LP covers, and there was a wall dedicated to practical jokes and novelty items.  The front counter was a display of homemade cheeses and meats.

After spending a good 25 minutes looking around, we moved on, stopping in Bancroft.  My grandparents had retired to Bancroft so I spent many summers there before my grandmother eventually sold their house and moved to Orillia to be closer to family.  We visited Nanny and Grandpa's old house and I was a little sad and nostalgic to see that the current owners have kind of let it go.  The gardens out front have been allowed to grow wild only to eventually starve themselves.  I wanted to take some pictures but I saw a curtain move in an upstairs window and felt that perhaps we were being watched.

There's an amazing lookout in Bancroft called the Eagles Nest where you can look out over the entire town.  When I was a kid I used to write scary stores about ghosts that lived the graveyard beneath the Eagles nest.

Yes, we did interrupt some couple having a moment.

We got to Tasha's about 8pm, so really not much time to explore Ottawa once we got there.  Tash left the company where I work to pursue her dream of running a dog kennel, which means that at any given time, they have a good amount of dogs on the property.  During our stay there were about five in the house.  Given that I am not much of a dog person (I respect their right to exist, and don't wish harm upon them but otherwise, leave me alone) I thought this had the potential to be pretty interesting, but considering the number of them, they were well trained and well behaved, and I almost kind of sort of started to like one of them (god help me if I can remember her name though).

This one.

Saturday morning we took the dogs out for a run on the property and Tasha's boyfriend Dave took both the girls on an ATV ride which they enjoyed immensely.  I was really glad she had extended the invite, because I had a really nice time visiting with them, and they were both good hosts.  Thanks again if you're reading this :-)

After saying our goodbyes, we backtracked to Ottawa proper and visited the Museum of Civilization and the Parliament buildings.  It was ridiculously hot that day so after visiting Parliament and getting some ice cream it was unanimously decided that the best option was to get back on the road and try to get to Quebec City before night fall.  Basically it's about six hours to Ottawa, and another four or five to Quebec.

We reached our hotel about 8:30pm and decided to go for a swim and settle for the night, as we would have the entire day to look around.  The Super 8 hot tub could better be described as a 'kinda-warm tub' but at least I didn't feel bad staying in longer than the required fifteen minutes.

Next morning we woke up and it was raining, which put a bit of a damper on plans to park downtown and explore the walled in area that is Old Quebec.  So we had some breakfast, had another swim and got in the car to brave the rain.

Driving down Wilfrid Laurier Boulevard we kept seeing groups of pirates on the sidewalks, waiting in bus shelters.  As we passed the entrance to Laval University I came to the conclusion that this must be some kind of Frosh week activity.

Upon finding ourselves downtown, I tried to find parking and somehow managed to get ourselves on to the Autoroute 40 by taking a wrong turn.  Know what happened then?

You guessed it, we got horribly, horribly lost.

And those Google maps that you print out when you get directions somewhere, don't do shit when it comes to navigation, since they only name about four roads.  Oh yeah.

EVENTUALLY I made it back downtown and found a place for us to park.  We came upon an outdoor Zumba display and looked in a few stores while we looked for a place to eat lunch that wasn't ridiculously expensive, and wasn't McDonalds.  Because yes, even Old Quebec has a McDonalds.  It's a neat looking McDonalds in an old stone building with wood shutters on the upper levels, and possibly even turrets, but it's still a McDonalds nonetheless.

One place got vetoed because the hostess wouldn't let me in with my coffee even though I made it clear we were definitely buying food.  For all three of us.  So congratulations, pub-whose-name-escapes-me, you lost out on what would have probably been a 40 dollar meal, easy.

Eventually we stopped at a place called Buffet D'Antiquiare, which was a neat kind of place with exposed brick, dark wood, framed black and white prints, and large menus written in vibrantly colored chalk.  The waitress met my helpless shrug and inquiry as to whether she spoke English with a bit of impatience.  I had been holding my own okay up until then, very stiltedly making efforts to communicate in French whenever possible, but at that point, the thought of having to order three breakfasts in french was overwhelming so for that little amount of time, I gave up.

After lunch, we continued on foot.  I was trying to get us to the boardwalk that runs between the Chateau Frontenac and the St. Lawrence River.  I had spotted what I thought was the Frontenac's green-copper roof and told the girls to follow it.  However as we drew closer, it because evident that this building was NOT near a boardwalk OR water.

Not the Chateau Frontenac

This, however is. (from 2005)

I approached a young woman and in my stilted French I gestured towards the building and asked "C'est la Chateau Frontenac?"  to which the woman responded by saying no and pointing to a tall peaked roof well off in the distance to which I responded by swearing in English, saying "merci" and saying to the girls "Okay, so remember how I said my sense of direction is better on foot than by car?  It's better, but not by much."  I pointed out the same roof and said "See that roof? That's where we need to be."

Have I mentioned Quebec is a city of many many steep inclines?  Oh yes.  We wandered through the little shops of lower town and took Le Funicular which is kind of like a Wonka-esque Great Glass Elevator that takes you up the hill to the Upper Town where the Frontenac and the boardwalk is located.
While wandering the boardwalk, we spotted another flight of stairs that appeared to go up another level of town.  After walking up these damn stairs for a good 20 minutes or so, I asked another tourist couple "Umm.. where are we?"

Where, was apparently the top of the Citadelle, which are some of the military fortifications that were built in the mid-1700s for the protection of the city.  It's pretty freaking high up.  Funnily enough, where it took about 20 minutes to walk up the 8 million stairs to get to the top, there's a trail on the other side that brings you back downtown in oh.. say 10 minutes.  Yessir.  well, 25 if you have an eight year old child who leaves her sweater at the top of the Citadelle and doesn't realize until you are halfway back to downtown.  And of COURSE it's the really nice sweater that she really likes and that I really like that her Great Grandmother got her for CHRISTMAS so of course we can't just leave it and call it a loss.  I went up the hill just to the point where I could see the lookout where she left, collapsed on the grass and said "Okay, go get it and come back here."  So with eye peeking over the arm I had flung over my face, I saw the little yellow t-shirt sprint across the wide green field, disappear for a few moments and reappear as a yellow and purple blur bobbing and weaving back across the field.

We made our way back to the car (with the kids naysaying my ability to actually navigate us back to the car.. but I made it there!) and we had dinner at the Chinese buffet next to the hotel.  Next morning we got up at six, we're on the road by 7:20 and did a straight out burn down Autoroute 40 to Highway 401, making small stops for gas and to pee, and managed to make it home around 6pm, in time to get ready for school the next day.

Some random pics of Quebec:

View from the Funiculaire

Dirty old man table art

Lower Town

Probably my favourite shot from the whole trip.

Funny story about that last picture.  I saw the guy in the wheel chair kind of struggling to get up the hill, before I saw him turn around and head back down.  A few minutes later, two kids go zooming past, each hanging onto a handle bar, just motoring this guy up the hill.  I think they were his kids.  They were yelling stuff as they shot past, and the three of them just looked like they were having a lot of fun.

Cue the Go-Gos Day three.

Saturday morning I expected a rental car to be showing up at the apartment around 9ish. The others had made plans to go to home depot to get supplies for the making of the chuppah for the ceremony. Myself I had plans to drive myself up to Riverside for a visit with MySpaces own Chris aka AvantPunk, or the 'notaninja' and the lovely Sarah. There had been calls back and forth all weekend to nail down a time, but frankly, I never knew what I was doing. So the plan was saturday for lunch as Chris and Sarah had places to be later that afternoon, and this would be the last chance before I got home. So friday night after dinner I had gotten on the comp and made myself a reservation for the cheapest compact I could rent in all of San Diego. On the site, there was a section to fill in asking where you wanted to be picked up. So I assumed that they would be picking me up.

Imagine my suprise when at 9:30 there was still no car. So I call the 'wrong' rental place to see if my reservation was on file. Now, since I called the wrong place, of course it wasn't. I ended up having to wake sammi and anthony up so I could hop on the comp and figure out what the hell company had my car.

Now, my plan had been to leave around 9:30 so as to get there for 11ish. But since they didn't pick me up, I had to get a ride to the rental place when everyone else left to go home depoting. So I didn't end up leaving SD until about 10:30. I had my directions and whatnot and I was off. Incidentally, the guy in the rental place recognized my drivers licence and mentioned that he used to live in Toronto. Small world.

About halfway there, I see a sign on the I-15 that tells me the highway is going to split. According to the sign, 1-15 heads to Los Angeles, and the I-215 heads to Riverside. The Google map had said to keep taking I-15 to CA-91 or some such thing like that. I think to myself, oh the google map must be wrong. I don't want to go to LA, I want to go to Riverside. It only makes sense to take the sign that says Riverside. Now think back to day one, and the important lesson I learned then, as it applies here.

ALWAYS TRUST THE GOOGLEMAP. NEVER PRESUME TO THINK YOURSELF SMARTER THAN THE GOOGLE MAP. YOU ARE NOT.

I find the cut off to the CA-91, but I think it was one of those 'exit up ahead' signs, because the cut off I took did NOT take me to another freeway, but to a residential area. I drive down the residential area, thinking that maybe I can rely on my natural sense of direction to take me where I want to go *snickers*. As I notice the residential becoming progressively more industrial and sketchy looking, I also notice I'm getting low on gas, so I pull over at a gas station and try to pump some gas. I can't seem to get my gas tank open. I pry with my fingers, I pry with my keys. Not something I recommend doing to a rental car. Giving up, I move the car and with one bar left on my phone battery I call Chris. The gist of the conversation:

Me: Chris, the inevitable has happened.
Chris: you're lost?
Me: oh, you betcha.
Chris: Where are you?

I look. Me: I'm at a gas station on the corner of Riverside Ave and Agua Mana (something like that) Blvd.
Chris: *silence* Where?
Me: Riverside Ave and Agua Mana Blvd.
Chris: Heh. I don't know where that is. Wanna spell that for me?
Me: R...I...V...E...

OKay, I never said that, but it always makes the story sound funnier.

So, we figure out where I am, and Chris tells me to go back where I came from and to keep the mountains behind and to the left of me. I look. The mountains are in front of me and to my left. Buh? I say. How does THAT work. How that works is that what I was looking at weren't mountains, but mere hills. It was too hazy that day to see the actual mountains.

Anyway Chris directs me to the highway, and helps out with the gas tank problem by suggesting a looking for a button release. Durr. You see, driving my piece of shit Sunbird, I don't have all these fancy gadgets and buttons. You wanna roll down your window? You turn the crank thing. You wanna pop the trunk? you stick your key in the trunk lock. Wanna open your gas tank? you use your finger to flip the little door open. Simple. I faced further frustration when I couldn't get the pump to work. Apparently the petrol industry is not so trusting in the U.S. and you have to pay first, THEN pump.

So back on the highway. Chris had told me to get off at Van Buren Street. The google map told me to get off at Arlington/Van Buren st. I see an exit for Arlington street and figure THAT must be what they meant.

DO NOT PRESUME TO THINK YOURSELF SMARTER THAN THE GOOGLEMAP OR THE GUY GIVING YOU DIRECTIONS WHO HAS LIVED IN THE AREA FOREVER. YOU ARE NOT.

Adding insult to injury, I kept missing this exit that I thought was the right one, so I had to keep turning around, thus going around and around in circles. Cell rings. Chris. "Where are you?"

"I'm going around and around in circles." Explaining to the spatial-retard that I am, that I still have to go another four exits before I get to the REAL exit. By this time, it's getting late, and we all have about 35 minutes to have lunch and chat and what not. When I finally got there, I was euphorically happy to be the fuck out of the crappy rental car and into the hot hot continental California sun. 100F baby. We piled into Chris's truck and took in a quick lunch at Del Taco, and chatted and their daughters bought me stickers! Family guy stickers, that are currently on my guitar. Sweet girls :-)

Despite the shortness of the visit, it was pretty cool meeting them. I had a great time, and when we came back to the house, there were pictures taken and whatnot, and if I make it back down to CA next year, I'd totally make the trip again, esp. since I know how to get there now :-P

We said goodbyes and I followed them out to the highway and headed back to SD for the 'rehearsal dinner' I guess you could call it, at the Cheesecake factory. I got back to sammi's place just as everyone was leaving, then they found out there was going to be a huge wait to get in (well I guess a table for 23 approx is gonna take quite a while). So I was able to lounge for a bit and take my time getting dressed and finishing harry potter 7. When we got the call that we were going to be seated, Amy (who had also stayed behind to get ready) and I headed down to the restaurant. I had a fantastic but ridiculously filling four cheese pasta, and spent much of the dinner flirting with one of the married groomsmen who's wife was conspicuously absent all weekend. Felt kind of bad about the flirting, but I had NO* actual intentions on following through. It was just hard NOT to flirt. Although it was funny, because he asked me if Amy and I were 'Together' I guess because of the showing up together, and being from the same area. I dunno, who knows how people's minds work.

Dessert was Oreo cheesecake (surprised?) and it was scrumptious, and huge portion so I shared with those around me. I tried to get some pictures of hot Brian eating strawberries provocatively, but none of them turned out well. He kept giggle when I said 'Eat that berry like you MEAN it.'

After dinner, the girls all went back to the apartment to work on all the last minute wedding details, centrepieces, playlist, looking for Tiara's gone AWOL. Passed out sometime around 1 I think. Maybe earlier.


Chris, Me and Sarah.


One of the Family Guy stickers, the other one is on the other side of the guitar.



* talk about the WORST TYPO EVER. Way to make yourself look like a big homewrecking whore with nothing more than one missing word, Andie.

Vacation - Cue the Go-Gos. Day One.

So, this week was the week of my big old trip to San Diego for Sammi and Anthony's wedding. I'm going to try and do a run down of the week, but it's late, and I'm remembering why I never ended up blogging my vacation last year. There's so much to SAY. So let's go Chronologically.

THURSDAY: I wake up to the phone ringing at 2 in the morning. It's Sammi with my wake-up call so I can get dressed and get to the airport for 5ish. I've gotten a decent amount of sleep, although my plan to go to bed at 7:30 had been thwarted by my need to be on the phone for an extra hour. I regret nothing :-)

I had printed out my directions to get to the Pearson International, but for some reason I decided I knew better than Google maps, which had told me to go down to 401 and take it over to Dixon Road. Well, the map showed the airport parking place to be just off the 427. So I figured, why not take 7 over to the 427 instead?

ALWAYS LISTEN TO THE GOOGLE MAP. DO NOT PRESUME TO THINK YOURSELF SMARTER THAN THE GOOGLE MAP.

After winding up in Brampton, I stop and ask for directions to Dixon road. The woman in the Tim Hortons actually directed me to Dixie Road, which is actually fairly near, but still not where I need to go. It's at this time that my parents answering machine got a frantic call from me for directions because my Dad professes to know every road in Southern Ontario. I forget that they are camping, and not home to recieve my call. After finding myself out by that giant bad omen known as Woodbine Racetrack (for some reason, I always end up there when lost in Toronto) I get some more competent directions and get to the airport.

While in line for customs, I give a dirty look to this woman who seems to be staring at me for no reason. Turns out, it's Sammi's mom. Gah, stupid me. Sammi's parents are at the same flight as me. Going through customs, the lady starts questioning me.

Customs: What is your reason for flying to the U.S.?
Me: Oh, I'm going to my friends wedding.
Customs: Is your friend American?
Me: well, sort of, I guess. Maybe. Well, she lives there.
Customs: Well living there doesn't MAKE you an American.
Me: Well, her husband is. Soon to be husband, I mean.

She asks me a bunch of questions about sammi's state of employment and what I do for a living. I guess they don't get a lot of terrorists in Data Entry, because she dismissed me soon after that.

I went and had some breakfast in the airport bar, but wasn't terribly hungry so I wandered around a bit -- I had time to kill, since going through customs took much less time that the three hours they say to give yourself.

I finally mosey over to the gate, and Sammi's mom rushes up and proceeds to tell me how worried they were when they didn't see me coming out of customs. I guess it's happened before where people they travelled with got detained. I just got breakfast. I felt kind of bad for that.

The flight was an interesting experience, although I snagged my earphones going to the bathroom and ripped one right off. Then I proceeded to leave my MP3 player on the plane when we de-planed.

Sammi and Ans came and greeted us all at the airport, and they gave me a ride to the apt while Sammi's parents waited for her sister Tara. Once they were all back at the apt, we went out to a fantastic italian restaurant, Phillipe's Pizza Grotto, and stuffed ourselves silly, taking home the mass amount of leftovers. I swear by the end of the weekend, there was no room in the fridge for all the leftovers. At dinner we also met anthonys' family, as well Wendy, Ian and Amy were all there as well.

After dinner/lunch (we ate around 3 PST) we went back to the apt and I decided to have a nap, that turned into a pretty big sleep, and I didn't get up until about 9:30. By that time, everyone else went to Target, left me on the couch. I apparently slept through that, Sammi's family returning, one of the groomsmen coming over and all manner of chaos.

After I got up, FINALLY, me, sammi, anthony, wendy and Ian went out for ice cream and hot dogs at the Weinershnitzel. I'd never been to one before, this was a trip of many firsts. I liked that it was a kind of a walk up place, with outdoor tables. Something like that would never fly here. What with the snow and all.

Oh yeah, Sammi gave me my birthday present the first day there too. Straight from San Diego Comicon, a special edition X-men comic, and a WICKED cool Wolverine glass. I'm thinking it might become my party glass. Its that cool.


There's something on the wing!!

WOLVERINE! FUCK YEAH!

Superhero girl.

The girls are sick. Pinkeye and a cough. We watched 6 hours of Sailor moon today.

Yesterday, before they got sick, we managed to get down to the Ontario Science Centre for the Marvel Comics exhibit, and man, that was some good times. I totally forgot to bring any and all directions I had, both the directions to Sammi's workplace, as well as the directions to the Science centre from there. I managed to get to Sam's work pretty easily as I had memorized the directions before I left.

-- by the way, I might mention that I friggin hate the fact that MapQuest and Google Maps will always give you a route that puts you on the 407 whenever possible. The 407 is a toll road, so I avoid it like the plague. --

There were some pretty cool things to see at the exhibit, it was all science-y things that were associated with various marvel superheros, eg. a Daredevil based display about the senses, with a little cave that you had to try to navigate through by clicking your tongue and gauging your location by sound; a magnet display (GUess who); a room where you yelled into a void to test your decibel level (Banshee); Using Lightening measure distance (Storm)... you get the picture.

The girls ran around and we're generally pretty good. Sammi and I took turns taking racy pictures with the giant wall cut outs - Will post some later, we have yet to exchange our pics with each other... half of them are on her camera, half on mine, and the ones I want to post are on her camera. Go fig.

Took a detour to the gift shop where I bought the most wonderful mug ever. Okay, so it's nothing compared to Ninja Chris' Spider-Man Cocoa mug, but it's still pretty darn neat. It may even beat out my Dubble Bubble mug for most favored coffee mug.


This is my secret identity. You can tell by the glasses

I also got the girls a magnet play set and some tattoos and stickers. Reagan is obsessed with fake tattoos. For those of you who know The Boy, are we surprised by this?

Oh, I forgot to mention, there was a hot security guard following us around, we took our picture with him (On sammi's camera again... grrr.) At one point he walked by and tried getting the kids attention by singing the Dora theme. Twas quite humorous.

McDonalds for dinner (at like 9pm no less) and I like I said, considering how late they ate, the girls were really well-behaved.

Got ridiculously lost trying to get back to Sammi's house, or just out of Toronto for that matter. Shouldn't have been that hard, just a matter of getting on one of the major North/South roads, but when we got to them, we couldn't remember if we HAD been going East or West, so without that, it's difficult to decide in the dark in the city if you are going North or South, especially when you know nothing of landmarks, like I do.

Fortunately we are neither of us the type to get freaked out by being lost, we just drove around and laughed at how lost we were. On the bright side, I found a gas station sell for .78 per L. Not too shabby.

Okay I lied, I am going to post some pictures, but I will update this when I have the other pics as well.

Or... maybe not. I hate you Photobucket.