Incorrect Jenn

Of all the reasons I have to dislike Facebook, this makes top 5. Pardon me? You want to CORRECT my name to one "N"? But it looks much less zen that way. Less even Steven. Or Schteven. And its preference last I checked. Big 'ol middle finger to THAT...

Bedazzled nails

This came up on my snapchat, it could anywhere in the world they had a beauty conference thing. 

That's not a beauty goal of MINE. What does this chick do for work eh? Receptionist at a nail salon. Has to be. What else could you do? I'd last 10 seconds or less before I ripped those things off in my job. Also, I don't understand the pointy nails trend. First time I saw them was near Halloween last year, and that for me was fitting, especially in black, it makes everyone look like witches. Doesn't it have a Hocus Pocus feel to it? 

Why does a beauty conference have all make up, nail polish and fake eyelashes? I'd have one and just sell mirrors. I'd even write on them, "you're lovely, keep up the good work" Unless they're a jerk, then it would read, "you can be an ass again today, or you can be lovely. Choice is yours" Although bedazzling unemployed people's witchy nails might be more lucrative.

Fat tea

A coworker of mine brought in a bag of teas she had from home, and in it was a bag of "Tiny Tea". The instructions say you're to drink it a half hour before you eat. My coworker tells me this is because it has appetite suppressants in it, so you don't eat so much, and become tiny I suppose. 

I brewed up a cup, and took it to my wicket. When it cooled down enough, I brought it to my mouth to drink and inadvertently took in a breath at the same time and smelled it. Now to preface this, I've had some pretty gross teas. My sister gives me remedies, my other coworker gave me a tea that tasted like puffed wheat, I work next to David's Teas they bring over the extra sample teas for us. I'll usually drink it out of respect, or in inert need not to waste it. This skinny tea smelled SO BAD, I couldn't get over it. I wanted to try a small sip, because I knew I wanted to blog about it, but I couldn't bring myself to even try it. I can't even compare it to anything, it created it's entirely new and unique, awful smell. That's how is suppresses your appetite right? I have a new tea, "I'd rather be fat tea". 

I jumped

It's not very timely, as I bungee jumped on May 14th, but I can't resist the urge to blog about it. It was the second anniversary of loosing dad, last year I did tandem skydiving. My friend suggested the word "conceal" for grieving. Conceal seems fitting, as I've learned to not have expectations of my grief, how long, how often...I take things as they come, I go with the flow more. I do the best I can to prepare for days I know will hurt more, and try to honour his memory as best I can. Sometimes I find myself wondering "what would dad do?" And often he answer is outlandish, and much more fun than the regular way. 

This is me right before jumping.

Two guys check the rope, tell you not to touch it on the way down. 

This is my favourite picture, I made it my profile picture. 

This one is ALL BUTT. 

This is me grabbing the rope, petrified.

This one will give Grams heat failure. 

This is me grabbing the rope on the rebound.

This is me suddenly remembering not to grab the rope.

Tears of joy I'm sure. 

I was so pumped full of adrenaline, it took a good two hours for my nerves to calm down. As I was walking back along the platform back to the car, the strap on my purse broke. It hit the platform, and I grabbed the railing, like it was a gun shot. I was a shaking, terrified mess and somehow floated to the car on jelly legs. 

Quick, ask me if I'll do it again. No. Absolutely not. 

I'd argue it's actually scarier than skydiving. At least then I was strapped to a professional, who did the act of throwing us out the plane. And after the free fall, the gliding down to earth was calming, and you land on solid ground. Bungee jumping you have to throw yourself off the platform, and you rebound wildly a bunch of times, and when you stop you're hanging in a harness hundreds of feet above a gully. 

Cross that off the bucket list. Check. 

Jenn's antics #1007: the haircut

I said it in my post about showing up to a paint nite without a ticket, but I'll say it again. Maybe I wouldn't be so wildly outlandish if one of my antics blew up in my face, but again, I'd say this one swung in my favour. 

My professional stylist cancelled on me, the day before my birthday dinner with family. I was craving a durastic hair change. Of the things I dislike about Facebbok flashbacks, my hair being the same way for 7 years stood out. 

So I called Kristi, "Didn't your mom have a hair dressing cerificate from 30 years ago? So did mine. And Grams is supervising, she had her dog grooming one from 30 years ago too...I think we're more than qualified" A glass of wine for good measure...

She cut the bulk of the length off first, which professionals don't do, and I'm sure there's a good reason for it. As it was though, my hair was too long for ONE box of home dye, so we cut it first. 

Then she dyed it for me. 

Then she cut it more. And gave me bangs. 

And I LOVE IT. I had professionals tell me since that it's not even and such, but I'm so strange that makes me like it more. I was so grateful to Kristi for jumping on the crazy train with me. It's just hair, it would have grown back. After you've shaved your head twice, nothing else feels too drastic. And had it gone awful, she and I would have had a great story. We still do.

Shout out to Grams too, photographer extraordinaire. 

Organ on

II just renewed my license, and with it in the mail came a donor registry card. Reminded me of when I was a kid, maybe 6 or 7 and the family got our new care cards. Back then you had to put a sticker on the front to designate your opting into organ donation. 

I remember my parents sitting us down to have a serious conversation about how we could save lives, and how many people are waiting for organs. Of course it turned into an hour long conversation where my parents had to assure us over and over again that people weren't going to break into our rooms at night and start harvesting our organs while we slept. "So you're FOR SURE dead when this happens?" And just in case you think that's only for children...

Anyways, I'll save you the guilt trip about saving people, and their families the greif of loosing them. 

On the card it says, "Live life. Pass it on." Which is a nice way of saying, "You won't need your organs when you're dead" so sign up. Hopefully you'll die of old age, long after anyone wants your organs, that's the plan right? But if not, and if I can save a family from losing a loved one, I will. 

Here's the website:

transplant.bc.ca 

Mudderless

So there we were driving the number one to Whislter at eight am on Saturday to do Tough Mudder. I look over to my right and who do I see, but my cousin and her kids on their way to the PNE. Despite all the money I'd spent on Tough Mudder, it was no contest between that event on my own in the rain, or Playland with my family. I was literally in all my gear, on the way there when I pitched it to Kyle, and we turned around at the next exit. People who came out for mine and Liz's birthday Friday, who saw me staggering around until 1am probably aren't surprised I didn't make it, but you should know my state of affairs had little to do with the decision. It did however come up later after a couple of the rides, but I didn't feed any of the plants, as close as it felt. It was pouring, we all drenched, but with big smiles on our faces. There's not a single doubt in my mind I made the best decision that day.