My Trip to Montréal

I don’t often have as much fun as I did this past weekend.

I had planned a weekend trip to Montréal to officially get my season pass to La Ronde and to use that pass. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let some rain ruin my fun.

I left work at 2:30, and headed back to my place where I quickly packed up my things, took a shower, and hit the road. I made a pit stop in St Albert to pick up some cheese for everyone I was going to be seeing, and headed back to Casselman and filled up the tank with gas (I’ve been living in Ottawa for a year and have yet to fill my car up IN Ottawa – I wonder how long I can continue this). I had a brief Chrysler moment when another Cirrus pulled up behind me at the gas station, and when I crossed the road to stop at McDonald’s to use the washroom and grab some fries I ended up parking next to a Dodge Stratus.

Good omens abound when you see more than one Cirrus/Stratus/Breese in a 1 kilometre radius.

Unfortunately the wait in the McDonald’s washroom was horrible. It took ten minutes for me to just be able to pee. I bought a medium fry after I was finished emptying my screaming bladder, and then I was finally on my way to Montréal.

The drive was completely uneventful, and in fact there was less traffic this time than there was when I drove up in March to see Great Big Sea. I made it to Chantal’s, where she came out and parked my car in her itty-bitty overgrown driveway. We then proceeded to get ready, and then headed out.

Chantal introduced me to a pub called Hurley’s. It’s an Irish pub downtown, where the majority of the people seemed to be English-speaking customers. The band playing that night was Salty Dog, a Celtic/Newfoundland folk rock band. Apparently Celtic rock brings out the Newfies, for there was a table full of ‘em! And not just any Newfies. Newfies in the army! *sighs*

I knew they were army guys, but y’know… I’m certainly not going to go over there and try and weasel my way into any conversations. Not to mention I was with Chantal. We had a big supper together (I had steak, she had chicken) and both had half-pints of black velvet. After the supper, we stuck to coke, and clapping along and singing to the music Salty Dog was playing. We knew it all, of course.

During the break between sets, two of the band members came over and hung out with us. Awesomesauce!

They eventually went to talk to a few more people, and during that time two of the army guys decided to play fight or something across the room and almost fall into our table. My radar was up. This was no accident – the two of them had done this on purpose! So I smiled at them and said, “Having fun, are ya?” and they immediately sat down at our table and the cuter one started flirting with me! Yay for army boys (no, scratch that… army MEN!) flirting with Kogo! He bought me a drink, we talked for a bit, but the guys eventually left, dragging him with them. And I didn’t even manage to give him my phone number. Oh, poo! But it was fun, nonetheless, and I felt great having flirted with a soldier. Haven’t done that in a few months!

We made it home after midnight, and were both falling asleep before one. I awoke at 7:30 and got dressed and packed my things and folded blankets neatly, and read for a bit until Chantal awoke at 8:00. She got ready to go and we skipped out the door to find ourselves a big hearty breakfast. After breakfast, we stopped and bought a postcard which I sent off to an X-Files friend in New Zealand.

She then dropped me off at the Metro station, and I made my way down to wait for James who showed up at exactly 10:00am. Which means the subway system in Montreal is freaking fantastic. We hopped on the Metro and made our way to La Ronde! Mind you, we also had to grab a bus for a short 3 minute bus ride that takes you straight to the front gates.

We were at La Ronde by ten-thirty. James bought his season pass while there, and we headed over to the gates in the pouring rain to wait with what seemed like hundreds of teenagers. I felt quite old, really, I did.

At eleven, the gates were rolled up, and James and I made our way to the line where we would set up our season pass cards. I got to skip the line as I already filled out my information online and all I needed was my picture to be taken.

While waiting for James I got to watch three baby starlings waiting for their mother to return to the nest with food. They were noisy little brats, but they were so adorable to watch. The wait finally over, we turn to the park before us and find that the rain has stopped, it’s warmed up, and the water is drying up quickly. Hurrah!

We hit the pavement, and the first ride we go on is the Toboggan Nordique, which is a baby rollercoaster. And it sucked. Horribly. I don’t think we’ll ever go on that ride again.

While waiting in line for the Orbite, James embarrassed the hell out of me. A sign basically said not to touch other people while on the ride. James turned to me and said, “Lynne, this means you can’t molest any gingers on this ride.”

Thanks, James.

Funny how you didn’t notice the ginger wigger standing in front of us, eh James? Because guess what? He certainly heard you say that! He immediately turned around and caught himself a glimpse of me. I didn’t mention to James that this guy was a ginger (hat covered his hair) until we were finally out of earshot. And then James thought it was great. And he had plans for the day. Find the ginger wigger again.

The ginger wigger is an almost ginger. He most certainly was a ginger for most of his adolescent life, no doubt. But as he grew older his hair grew darker until it became almost a shade of brown. But upon removing his white wigger hat, you will notice that it is indeed a deep red. And this white wigger hat? It’s placed crookedly upon his wigger head in the wigger fashion of 10 years ago. He is wearing white wigger shoes and oddly enough a white belt which most probably came from Moore’s. He is wearing wigger jeans, and they seem oddly new. And his wigger shirt seems to have a wigger vest over it. Interesting. The ginger wigger is very intrigued by me. Because apparently I like to molest gingers – or so my fellow “ride warrior” says. This intrigues him very much. He might have a chance to be molested!

We run into him in line yet again – on The Vampire. I see him first, and immediately spit out, “Ah fuck,” to which James says, “What?” and I clam up. Unfortunately, this display of disappointment and resentment was proof enough that the ginger wigger (or gigger for short) was nearby. James sees him, he finally sees us and James begins to jump up and down pointing at me. The ginger wigger eyes me once more. I feel a cold chill down my spine, as I realize he is probably undressing me with his wigger eyes. We end up getting on the ride the same time as gigger and his friends. I am three rows back and directly behind gigger. We ride the ride, we have fun, and finally get off. Upon getting off, James magically turns to the left instead of exiting the ride. As I get off, he yells, “Lynne, over here!” and as I turn back, the ginger wigger is directly behind me! We make eye contact and I know precisely that he knows I like gingers. I shudder, because while I do like gingers, I detest wiggers.

We both seem to walk across the park in the same general direction, but I finally am able to steer James in a different direction. And for some time we are safe from the gigger. Until later, after getting off the Monster. As we walk away from the coaster, James looks back at the line waiting to get on and sees him. I run away before the gigger can spot me (while James is shouting and pointing me out).

For the rest of the day the gigger blessedly keeps his distance from us. We hit up the Goliath (the best rollercoaster in the park) about four times. We went on the Vampire twice, the Cobra once (it huuurts), the Monstre twice, the Boomerang, and yes, even the teacups. The teacups sound like dying whales.

We went on le Pitoune and Le Splash. If you want to be soaked to the bone, I suggest getting on Le Splash. Not only do you get a Le Splash, but people can pay 2 bucks to fire waterguns at you.

We rode the coasters up until closing then got on the bus to take us back to the subway station. The lines inside were huge, so we decided to wait for a bit at a very interesting park. The park had these water fountains that would sporadically burst out, and during the warmer months I think it will be a lot of fun to run through them. But in late May, it is still a bit too cold. Didn’t stop us from having fun, however. There was trance/dance/techno music being played a bit away, and we figure this place would be great to have a party. We danced through the fountains, took some silly pictures, and then finally got on the subway and had the fun of stopping at Chantal’s to get my stuff and then heading to James’ place where Sarah was waiting for us. We had an extremely late supper, and then I passed out on their recliner. We awoke the next day, went to Tim Hortons for breakfast, and then we all piled onto the subway. Sarah left us to head downtown while James and I continued on to our favourite pastime – hitting the rollercoasters.

Ginger Wigger was nowhere to be found that day. However, we did see one ginger getting on the Goliath was epically excited. And when I say epically excited, I’m serious. He was front row on the Goliath, and when he sat down and got settled in, he turned to his friends with this huge smile on his face and clapped his hands excitedly. Now, he would have been a gorgeous ginger, except he had a faux-hawk. That sort of ruined his look. But otherwise… very beautiful for a ginger.

On Sunday we recorded the Goliath twice. Once from midway down the train, and once from the front. I plan on making a video of it. We also recorded the monstre, and also a few other things. Around four o’clock it began to rain. While a lot of the rides began to close down, we still made our way to the Vampire, and managed to get on. Going on the Vampire in the rain may have been a bit extreme, but it was still worth it. By the end of that, we bought some Goliath sweaters, and headed in the direction of Le Dragon, one of the most lame coasters in the park.

While Le Dragon still remains to be one of our least favourites, it still is an indoor coaster. That being the reason we were heading toward it, we tramped through puddles and finally got into the very short line for Le Dragon. There was a reason the line was so short, despite it being one of the few rides that got you out of the rain. While the sound was working, the lights weren’t! So James and I went through the very short ride inside in the pitch black, listening to creepy music. We have determined that this ride is much better when you don’t get to see then dragons and creepy eyes blinking at you. We went on Le Dragon twice before we decided to go get some food.

We stopped at Rolopan and bought food wrapped in crepes. I had blueberry and custard while James decided to try a cheeseburger crepe. Mine was delicious, but I also got to try some of his. The cheeseburger crepe is amazing! We have determined that Rolopan will be our food of choice when we go to La Ronde in the following few months. Why spend ridiculous amounts of money on poutines and burgers when you can spend that same ridiculous amount of money on something you can’t get anywhere else? If I’m going to be frivolous with my earnings, the least I can do is be frivolous with rare things.

After finishing our crepes, we headed onto the Goliath again, twice in a row! There were no lines at all, so why not take advantage of the situation? After getting our Goliath fix, we headed off to play a few games and win a few toys. I ended up winning a stuffed elephant, a tiger Taz, and a bunch of flowers. James won a Batman for Sarah, a pink whale, and a penguin.

We bought some cotton candy for Sarah and headed back to the subway station, where we once again stopped in the park. Only this time, James decided to be evil and risk the poor pink whale’s life. I can only describe what happened next in a series of photos.

Ooh, a fountain!


Tehehe! Die, whale, die!


He looks so lonely and helpless!


Little whale refuses to be blown away by the water.


I am whale, hear me roar!


Right before I ran in to save him:


This is what happens when you run through a fountain to save a little pink whale.


Poor little guy is now in my hands after James traded it for one of my many flowers. All of my newly acquired stuffed animals are sitting on my recliner in my living room. After we had fun in the fountains, and I was soaked down my side, we made it back to Chantal’s where we got my car and I drove James home. And the rest is a very uneventful car ride home, although I did find someone like me who understands what cruise-control is, and we ended up driving all the way to Ottawa one behind the other. I enjoy smart drivers!

I shall now leave you with two videos I have made from the footage James got.

Sealhunt Musings Galore

You can help end Canada's annual war on seals by boycotting a product that is vital to the country's economy: maple syrup.
Canada produces approximately 85 percent of the world's maple syrup, with the U.S. as its largest consumer, and by buying this Canadian product, you are supporting Canadian cruelty. By pledging to boycott Canadian maple syrup, you'll be speaking up for baby seals in Canada, for whom life isn't so sweet, and telling Canada that you won't support its product until you can support its practices.

Does PETA honestly think that maple syrup, something that comes from trees and is harvested by regular entrepreneurs, will affect the sealhunt, something regulated by the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, a department of the federal government?

PETA seems to think that the US of A is not in an economic crisis, and that we rely only on the United States for our income. Would it not make more sense that if we lost economic gain in maple syrups sales, that we should just up the sales in furs from the seals?

I don't know... this... boycott seems mighty flawed and pointless.

One Small Blog

You know what I can't stand?

People who are against abortion but for the death penalty.

Make up your minds.

Musings on Healthy Eating

I have a diet Pepsi sitting in front of me. It’s the first bottle of pop I’ve had in over two weeks.

I’m trying to eat healthy, and I find it damn hard to do on the weekends I’m busy with friends – which seems to be almost every weekend. This past weekend I had second helpings of my mother’s chicken and potatoes. And then on Sunday we went to the Works for lunch/supper (only two meals that day) and I pigged out on a huge Sk8er Boy burger (it had peanut butter, jack cheese and bacon – and it was surprisingly good!) and sweet potato fries. On Monday we did another lunch/supper by going to Sushi Kan, an all-you-can-eat Sushi bar. Now, I don’t feel AS bad about Monday’s meal, since sushi is good for you and all… but I REALLY stuffed myself that day.

However, I have been doing better. The only junk food I have in my house right now is a small bag of Bits and Bites, and a bag of pretzels (which could be considered healthier than any other chips). I went to Farm Boys to get my groceries yesterday – and everything was healthy products except maybe the mock chicken. I bought a ready-made salad for today – it comes with a few small slices of cheese and ham and a hardboiled egg, and some ranch dressing.

It’s hard eating healthy in today’s society. For one, it seems like every other day my workplace is having some sort of party (going away, retirement, baby shower), and with a government party comes wine and food. Last week was bad as it was a baby shower – loads of cookies. Yesterday, however, was not so bad. They had chips, veggies, and various dips and things. I stuck to the veggies (mmmmCelery), but did have a few baked Lays.

But when I went to the theatre last night I ordered a small low-fat frozen yogurt (banana and strawberry) which was quite a lot of ice cream for only 110 calories AND it was healthy for me.

I find another reason it’s hard to eat healthy is socializing. When going out with friends, it’s to a theatre or for supper and it’s so easy to forget your goal to lose that 20 pounds and live a healthier lifestyle. If I become a recluse and stay at home I can stick to my meal plans.

I suppose I’m excited for the rollercoaster season. While I will be hitting up La Ronde quite a lot, it will help with my goal – I hope. I will be outside all day, possibly for a whole weekend each time. That would include walking, getting my adrenaline pumping, and quite a bit of exercise. Mind you, I will also be subjected to many a food stall selling things like poutines, nachos, and burgers. However, in an attempt to save money, I probably won’t be eating all that much. Plus I’ll be too busy standing in line for rollercoasters.

Another thing in my get-fit program. Walking. Yes. Walking. I love to walk, so it’s no hardship. But I need to walk MORE. And possibly get my bike. I tend to walk to Blockbuster and back – which is quite a long hike, even my mother said so. Last night I also did some sit-ups. OH MY! It’s not so hard on my stomach as it is on my back. I’ve got a back problem, so… yah… it’s not much of a problem, but I definitely was straining my back last night. Oh well. All in the name of being healthy, right?

I’m thankful that my new breakfast of choice is something I can enjoy. I used to eat two Eggo waffles for breakfast (strawberry flavour) each morning. Sometimes with maple syrup, sometimes without. It always depended, as strawberry waffles taste good without it. However, now I’ve started eating Special K Five Grain. It’s really good, very healthy for you, and a high source of fibre. It’s the taste I like, and the crunch. For the past week I was eating it with milk, however I’ve stopped putting milk in it as I’ve mentioned – I like the crunch.

I’m addicted to crunchy things. I love chips, the crunchier and crisper the better. And it’s hard to find a replacement for them. Pretzels are great and all, but nothing can compare to Sun Chips or Baked Lays. I also try things like rice crackers, and other low-calorie crackers and wafers. Nothing compares, but it’ll do for now.

Sigh.

I miss my junk food.

Life Musings

Life can pass you by if you aren’t looking.

In less than two months I will be getting on a plane and heading to Newark, New Jersey where I shall roam the airport and wonder which seats Jason and Grant have sat in, where they have twittered and complained about the planes constantly being late, and where they may have gotten coffee.

It’s only a short pit stop before I gather my bags and sanity, and head onto a much larger plane, and stare out over a dark, black seascape over which we shall be travelling. Even still, that small stop in Newark is incredibly exciting for me. I will only be there for two hours, but for those two hours I get to spend there, I shall reflect over these days in May where I sat at my computer and avidly watched my two favourite docu-soap stars entertain their fans in a new and personal way.

It’s been very interesting watching them twitter, and I can assure you that it’s them, and not some pretend Jay and Grant. It really is them. They take photos of each other, complain about Continental airlines, and let us know what is happening on their investigations. We get to know intimate details of the investigation months before it will ever air on tv. It’s quite exciting really.

I’ve been a fan of the show Ghost Hunters since it first debuted in the United States, on the American channel SciFi. I used to watch that channel religiously when we were able to order it (before they went digital and we lost our feed). They had all the best shows – X-Files, Sliders, Star Trek, Outer Limits, Quantum Leap, Mad Mad House. Gosh, how I loved that channel.

My whole family took an hour off of their own schedules to sit and watch the premiere of Ghost Hunters. We had all been interested in the show after watching the commercials, but I was the only one who became a fan after watching the first episode. In the end, I spent every Wednesday evening sitting in front of the tv upstairs while everyone else was in the basement watching tv on the regular dish. But not me. No, I needed to get my Grant, and later Tango fix. I loved these guys. They were real people doing something real, and catching so much unexplained evidence on tape!

I eventually had to stop watching the show when our feed got cancelled and SciFi went strictly digital. Here in Canada, we are two seasons late, so even still if I went to watch the show, I’d be watching reruns. I tried watching Ghost Hunters International but it just isn’t as good as the original show. I want to see Jay and Grant – and yes, even Tango.

So while I don’t get to watch the show anymore (although soon I shall be ordering the seasons on DVD), I am now following my two favourite plumbers/ghost hunters on Twitter. And it’s been so much fun!

So there I will be, getting off a plane in Newark, NJ and staring at everything and wondering, “Which gates have they waited at for each of their late planes?” And I will wonder, “Will my plane be late?” and I will walk the floors, and look around me, and think to myself, “They’ve done this, too.” And I will be a sort of squeeing fangirl, as I consider all the other celebrities that have probably been through this airport as well.

I don’t know what I’m going to do to pass the time while I’m on my second flight. It’s going to be a long one, I have no doubt of this. And lucky for me, I’ll be bringing my laptop in my carry-on. Perhaps I’ll be able to write some of my latest story. Or perhaps I shall read a book, take a nap, plot world domination.

And to think I have less than two months to go before I hop the pond and touch down in Glasgow. I will set foot on Scottish soil. I will, in essence, be returning to the “home land”. I am half Scottish on my mother’s side, and I embrace this heritage. I go to the Highland Games in Maxville every year, I have a kilt that I wear on special occasions, and overall, I am just so addicted to the folklore and history.

I am taking my dream vacation at the age of 23. Can you believe it? Oh sure, there are dozens of other places I wish to visit – Australia, Ireland, Germany, British Columbia, Newfoundland – but Scotland is the place I wish to go. So what are the odds that I personally know someone who lives there? Not only do I know someone who lives there, but I’ve worked with her, I know her from real life! And we have heaps in common.

To say I’m excited for this vacation is an understatement. But, you know, the thing is… time is passing by very quickly. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve booked this year full of exciting plans, I bet the next two months would crawl by. But as it is, I’m excitedly awaiting the last weekend of May, because I will be heading off to Montreal to spend a weekend riding the rollercoasters, and getting an adrenaline buzz. And it won’t be the only weekend I do it. I have myself a season’s pass to La Ronde. So for every weekend I am free, I will be dragging my arse up to Montreal and letting the wind blow through my hair.

And that’s just one of the many things I plan on doing!

This year is so full of fun things, exciting things, once-in-a-lifetime things. It’s only May and I’ve already met George Takei, had a pick thrown to me by Bob Hallett, seen dozens butterflies fluttering around me, received well over two dozen postcards, and made loose plans to take more small and large trips for this coming year.

If you don’t make your life exciting, who will?

Musings on People Who Complain

I can’t stand people being bitter. It’s like they want us to share in their misery, and I don’t find that very fair at all.

I’m the type of person that keeps the pain and hurt locked up inside. True enough, my blogs show a lot of venting (heartache being a key subject), but overall, I rarely whine and bitch and cry. That’s what I have my one blog for. To be able to complain, to cry, to take it all back, to wish away the hours on a thing that will never be. That way, I am able to release the pent up emotions that sometimes boil over.

But it’s to have those friends that only come to you when they aren’t happy. They come to you, and complain. About this, about that, about how unfair life is. Life is only as unfair as you make it out to be. If you choose to whine about your life instead of trying to fix it, of course it’s going to suck.

Stop wallowing in your self-pity and go out there and do something! You are stuck in Cornwall only because you choose to be stuck. Don’t give me excuses about car payments, and that the only way you can afford to live in Ottawa is if you are getting paid 25 bucks an hour. Wtf? Even I don’t get paid that much money, and I work for the goddamned government! If that’s how you see it, then you’re never going to get out of Cornwall, because you’ve set your bar much too high. And I think the only reason you’ve truly set it so high is because you’re afraid to leave that town. It’s quicksand, and it’s already got a firm grip on your ankles, and you feel as if it would be too much effort to pull yourself out. So you gripe and complain that you’re still stuck in Cornwall, but it all comes down to the same thing: Only you are stopping yourself from leaving.

Complaining about not having a relationship is a complete waste of a) my time and b) your breath. Why? Because guess what. I’m single too. I don’t give a damn if you’re older than me and still single. Perhaps it is your negative personality that scares men away. Or perhaps you believe that only men can approach women when interested in a relationship. Go out there, be active, and try to find something. That is exactly what I am doing. If someone as young as me can actively search for someone to date, why can’t someone with more years experience do that as well?

You have to be able to cope with the world, and if you can’t then you’re fucked. Stop living in the past. It’s nice to have a few pieces of the past to stick to (chivalry is indeed a nice thing to see on occasion – like when a man opens the door for me, or pays for my meal), but I certainly don’t want to see the past all the time. I agree, having to make the first move sucks ass. But I’m not puling and whining. I’m toughing up and making first moves, goddamnit. Why? Because I have to. There’s no other way to get anywhere in this society unless you go out, grab the bull by the horns (or the balls) and actually make an effort.

And I realize the redundancy of this post. After all, I’m complaining about complaining. Kind of makes no sense, right? Perhaps I’m just so sick of being the one you all come to with your problems… and then never expect to hear about mine. Well, you can certainly expect that, because only a FEW people will ever hear about my problems, and that’s because I know they’re actually there for me!

Agh!

This rant is bothering the hell out of me.

Whack fall the day!

Valentine's Day Musings

I am sick and tired of people complaining about Valentine’s Day. Jesus Christ. Suck it up, you whiny little emo kids. Seriously.

What the hell is wrong with picking a day to show the person you love that “By the way, in case you forgot… I love you.”?

There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Nothing!

Oh, but it’s not fair to the single people.

Whine whine whine. Sob sob sob. Sniffle sniffle sniffle. I’m single, poor me.

Okay, yes. I agree, it’s much too over-marketed, and that it’s mainly about spending tons of money on the one you love. But to me, that’s not what it’s supposed to be about. It’s supposed to be about love, and showing the person that you care. Whether you cook them a nice meal or buy them a diamond ring, it’s all the same. It’s doing something out of the ordinary to say, “Hey, you’re very special to me… and I don’t ever want that to change.”

And here the single people are getting their panties in a bunch because they can’t share in those feelings. And so they feel the day is more about singling out the people without a loved one. I think it’s a very childish attitude. You know the attitude. “Well, if I can’t have fun, then I won’t let anyone else have fun.”

And the damndest thing is they’ll deny, deny, deny that this has anything to do with the true meaning of Valentine’s Day, but that it has everything to do with the propaganda and the spending of money. And I swear, I’ve seen those same people turn around and become all lovey-dovey and spend money on their loved one the next time this fateful day comes rolling around and they’re finally in a relationship.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Jesus.

I can’t stand it anymore!

I am single. I’ve got no one for Valentine’s Day. Do you see me whining and complaining that it’s such a horrible and over-rated day? NO! I’m standing up for it, for chrissakes! Why? Because when I am in a relationship I enjoy celebrating it with a nice home cooked meal, perhaps a single rose, a nice movie, curled up on the couch in my lover’s arms.

Sound so bad?

Sounds pretty damn romantic to me.

And even if I’ve got no one to do that with, I at least have faith that one day in the future I will!

So stop your belly-aching. Please.