Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Watch out - your cheese has a label on it!!!

I've been given the challenge of writing: Best. Post. Ever. and even though it was stipulated in said challenge that I should feel no pressure, the overwhelming feeling of pressure is ever present. I can't even think of a story, let alone, write the best one. Shit.

Here goes... I can only hope that the lack of substance in this post is overshadowed by illustrative goodness. No pressure EliseArt.

When I was around 6 or 7, my mom had a boyfriend and he had a daughter my age. Naturally, we became best friends. One summer, Mom's beau, Bo, was going to Alberta to visit family. He thought it might be a good idea if I went along and kept his daughter company. We ended up going three times altogether, one time after him and Mom broke up.

The first time I went there, I was a bit out of my element. We stayed with his family; they had a farm with horses and chickens and a pond and everything. Although, in theory, I liked all those things, in reality, I had no idea what I was doing. I had 'city kid' written all over me.

Heather - City Kid

The very first thing I learned about horses was to never approach them from behind. If they don't see you coming, they'll get spooked and kick you. I also learned to feed them with a flat hand, so they couldn't bite off your fingers. Both are very good lessons to learn.

Horse Chomp

Then I learned to ride them. I only ever rode them with an experienced rider in front of me. I'd sit behind the saddle and hold on for dear life. I was told I was a natural, which made me feel better about the city kid beacon emblazoned on my forehead.

I became very paranoid about these two lessons I learned. Every time I'd see someone feeding a horse I'd want yell and warn them about getting bit.

Horse Chomp - stopped

Anytime I saw anyone walking behind a horse, I'd want to yell out for them to keep back.

Heather - Watch the horse

I didn't want to see anyone get hurt. But then I'd remember that they'd been around horses a lot more than I had, so they probably knew already. Afterall, these were the people that taught me these lessons.

Fearing that I would live up to the city kid stereotype even more if I vocalized my concerns, I kept them to myself. However, I confided in my friend about my internal battle. She mocked me every chance she got. She would constantly remind me that she 'goes there every year' and 'rides horses all by herself'. So I definitely would never have corrected her for fear of her mocking me until her voice was hoarse.

So one day we were playing in the field with the horses. And by 'we were playing', I mean, I was standing at a safe distance observing the horseplay. I see my friend walking across the field behind this horse. She was at a safe distance so I didn't fear for her safety.

Horse Kick 1

Her path was directly behind the horse and at a diagonal, so she progressively got closer and closer to the horse.

Horse Kick 2

I started getting a bit nervous.

Horse Kick 3

At one point she was standing directly behind the horse.

Horse Kick 4

I got really nervous, but didn't call out, out of fear of ridicule. But because I was keeping it in, really, I was just flailing my arms, looking terrified in the middle of a field with nothing at all around me. (Let alone something scary nearby).

Heather - Worried

I was fairly certain my friend was safe. The horse was completely unaware that she was behind him. And then my friend did the stupidest thing ever.

Horse Kick 5

She literally gave it a pat on the ass. Naturally, the horse spooked and bucked.

Horse Kick 6

Horse Kick 7

Horse Kick 8


She seriously flew through the air at least 4 feet* and smashed into a fence.

(*memory says it's more like 8ft, but that seems unrealistic, so I'm cutting it in half for conservatism)

She got up. I ran over to her and asked if she was okay. When she said yes; I burst out laughing and told her that I totally saw it coming. She was really mad (for some reason) and questioned (nearly hysterically) why-oh-why hadn't I called out to her? Why!? Because Karma's a bitch, that's why!



Big thanks to EliseArt for providing the illustrations.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Worst. Date. Ever.

Dear Gorm,

I would like to apologize for sucking. I attempted to write the post for: Worst. Date. Ever. But failed miserably. Actually, the draft post is a surprisingly accurate protrayal of said date. I'm just incapable of posting it; it is just far too embarrassing. More embarrassing than stories about syphilis? Yes... because I don't have syphilis. But I did have that date and immortalizing it in print is just too much for me to endure. I'm truly sorry.

Sincerely Yours,


Sunday, December 5, 2010

It feels like 5 mins when I'm alone... 20 mins when I'm car-pooling

I've been single for some time now. Rather than doing math and becoming depressed, I'll leave the actual number out and stick with 'some time'.

The first while, it was fine, interesting actually. 'Finding yourself' and having 'me time'. But it all gets very old, very fast. Over the last while I've found myself wanting someone, anyone, more than before. Not because I'm unhappy or unfulfilled or anything... I'm just tired of being alone. Also, I need to get some.

So despite my better judgment, I decided to embark upon the internet to help me find a match. After a 'bad experience' on a free-dating website, I quickly thrust my credit card into my computer, shrieking "Take my money, just so that doesn't happen again!!!!!!!!"

For the past 5 days, I've been living the paid-dating-site lifestyle. It's really not that much different than the lifestyle I was previously living except that now my credit card is being billed and I have something less interesting to look at on the internet.

So, a couple days ago, I get a 'match'; it's a guy named "CJ", he's 25 and lives in Vancouver. I immediately thought of this guy I went to school with last year that has the same name.

Side story: Me & CJ had a class for 15 weeks together this time last year. During the first few weeks of class, our preferred seats got closer and closer together, until we sat next to each other every class, no matter what. Eventually, people wouldn't even take that seat beside me because they knew that CJ was going to want to sit there. But because I'm a moron, I wasn't really sure if we were into each other. I asked him out for a drink, he accepted, we went out, but it all seemed buddy-buddy. We emailed, talked on the phone, went and watched a movie together and that's about where it ended. Every so often he'll call me or email me and we'll talk and then it ends. Very mind-gamey. But because I liked him, I've always kinda held out hope; this hope is rekindled every time I get the email or the phone call from him.

So anyways, I get matched up with CJ, 25, Vancouver. I immediately think of CJ from class. Even though I know CJ from class is 8 years older than me (I'm not 17) and he lives in PoMo. I was disappointed when I opened CJ's profile and, alas, it wasn't him.

So yesterday, I get an email announcing that I have a new match "CJ, 39, PoCo"... Immediately, I thought, hey, maybe it's CJ... ya right... he doesn't live in PoCo and he's only 8 years older than me. But when I logged on and looked at his profile it was him. I burst out laughing. I didn't know what to do. So I logged off and went out, as planned, barely thinking about him all day.

Like most dating sites, "who viewed you" is an option on this site, so I knew that he would know that I looked. I was expecting something. I get home late after volunteering all day, check my email and nothing. Log onto the site and he hasn't viewed my profile. I was slightly disappointed.

This morning, I wake up, check my email and I have a notification. This site has a way of 'sending a match a message', without having to 'send a match a message'. It's a way of 'saying I'm interested' without having to 'say I'm interested' and worry about what they'll say in return. It's basically a drop-down menu and you select the message you want to send. Wink! I like your pics. We live close, let's chat. I like you, let's meet up. Let's get to know each other, slowly.

So I log in and the message is one of these drop-down messages and it's from CJ and it's the "let's get to know each other slowly" option.

I think he's fucking with me.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

What's your head's excuse?

Despite being an absolute sweetheart, Sab was notoriously aggressive towards other dogs. As a result, he didn't know how to play like a normal dog (since he had never played with one before). Thus, I had to create games for him to keep in occupied and stimulated. This may be one of many installments on this subject.

One game we played (let's call it "Run & Chase"), was a 3-player game (i.e. 2 people; 1 dog). We usually only played this game when K was around. Basically, I would get him all riled up and ready to play; getting him riled up usually consisted of me smacking him in the face and goading him on.

Sab and Heather - smack

Once he figured out what was happening, he'd get excited and start playing (i.e. biting); at which point, "Run & Chase" would start. K would hold him down while I started running (and goading him all the while).

Heather - running away from Sab

I would run clear across the field. When K decided that I'd run far enough, she would let him go and he'd run after me. She'd give me an ominous warning of "He's coming!!!". At which point, I'd start looking over my shoulder for the impending doom; once he got close, I'd turn around and stop; bracing myself for impact.

The game always played out the same way; he would barrel towards me and at the last minute he would deke out of the way, slow down and then attack me.

Heather - Sab please don't hit me

Sabastian deek

We'd play and then I would hold him and K would run across the field calling to him; when she'd get far enough away, I'd let him go. He'd run, chase her, attack her. Then she'd hold him; I'd run, call for him, he'd chase. You get the idea.

The first few times we played this game, while I watched him run directly at me, I would consider the possibility that he wouldn't deke. I would lose confidence and would side-step him. On more than one occasion, I side-stepped and he deked in the same direction; one of us ended up hurt. Eventually, I learned, and began to trust, that he would deke and wouldn't hit me.

This one time, we were playing and, as per usual, Sab was barreling towards me.

Sabastian running1

Sabastian running2

Sabastian running3

Sabastian running4

Sabastian running5

Sabastian running6

I mentally coached myself not to sidestep him, as I did every time we played the game. At one point I realized that he wasn't going to stop or deke out of the way. Unfortunately, it was milliseconds before impact.

Sab's head/chest height was roughly mid-thigh level, so when he hit me (and ran right through me) he literally swept me off my feet.

Sabastian run over

After that I had to contend with a 100lb dog licking my face and jumping all over me while I tried desperately to regain my breath after having the wind knocked out of me. Meanwhile, K was on the other side of the field laughing her ass off.

Big thanks to EliseArt for providing the illustrations!