It’s Tortilla Time

• I am a pushy drunk.
• I will most likely die alone and unloved.
• I am a badass mother fucker who runs down pyramids.
• Eating shark surprisingly makes you less afraid of them.
• Consuming salt-water makes me sick.
• I feel an immense emptiness when there is no dog sleeping at the foot of my bed.
• I should probably never take psychology in university.
• I have an aversion to Wisconsin. Like, seriously.
• I hate the fucking humidity to the depths of my very soul.
• Airline food is fake. Very, very fake.
• I am incapable of tanning.
• Waterproof mascara is a mere marketing ploy.

Mexico was the shit.

It was excellent. Fantastic. Superb.

I’ll elaborate later, when a mere 1.5 hours of sleep isn’t my sole energy factor.

It is now Cam’s birthday. Unfortunately the morning will be spent at the vet clinic, observing an eye surgery. I must be awake in six hours to attend said occasion.

I’m beginning to sense a sleep-deprived theme to this blog.

…to Mexico.

I am so tired that I could drop at any second. I must force myself to soldier on. In a few hours it will be well worth it.

Please oh please don’t let me sit wedged between two fat people on the plane.

And please oh please don’t let Bee Movie be the in-flight movie.

…..

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ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ………

It’s difficult to believe that our Mexican adventure commences tomorrow morning. In fact, nineteen hours will find me on the white sand beach, tanning to my heart’s content. This is an especially pleasing concept to a Canadian buried in heaps of snow at the moment.

We are supposed to be at the airport at three AM tomorrow morning. It’s at that awkward hour where it’s unclear whether or not sleep should even be attempted. If I do decide to get some shut-eye I’ll be forced to awaken at around two AM which, unfortunately enough, is my typical bedtime. I’ll most likely stay up. I’m constantly told that I can nap on the plane, but this is near impossible for me. Excitement always trumps sleepiness, no matter how knackered I find myself.

My Redbull will be most handy tonight.

Packing is nearly completed. I purchased a new backpack today which will serve as my carry-on.

I was pleased that I found my Canada pin. This will be particularly useful when travelling to Greece, as Canadians are highly regarded in Europe. I don’t want to be mistaken for a yank, you see.

Packing lightly is a foreign concept to me.

The dense one is still disheartened that we will be leaving him.

Today brought the dawn of the much dreaded annual music festival. In other words a slow, most painful death for all of us innocent beings involved.

The entire day, from dawn until dusk, consisted of our high school band performing and observing other performances. It was dull, to be quite generous. There were a series of performances and breaks situated between them, which gave us barely enough time to consume meals and tune before we were thrust on stage again and expected to perform.

During one of our intermittent breaks, a friend wished to show me her mother’s graduation picture, as we were at the high school that her mother attended. I agreed solely out of boredom, not because I particularly desired to view the picture. We ascended the staircase to the upper level of the school, only to discover that the upstairs was locked. We shrugged and then descended the staircase to return to our band room, as we had a performance very soon following. As we attempted to enter the main floor, we discovered that that door was locked too. Oh. My. Gawd.

I could FEEL the oxygen supply slowly perish into the ether. The walls started to close in. I began to hyperventilate, anxious that we were going to miss our performance… if we were even lucky enough to escape with our lives. I WAS IN SURVIVAL MODE.

And then I soon realized that I was supposed to pull the door, not push.

Yesterday found Tammy and I accompanying her little sister on the road to Girl Guide camp. We opted to spend our Friday night in the car, because believe it or not, at one point Tammy and I were both Girl Guides. Yes, the kind that harasses the public to purchase their damn cookies. Her little sister belongs to the same troop that Tammy and I antagonized for a year. We were undoubtedly the Girl Guides from hell. And yesterday we had hopes of re-visiting our former Guide leaders. Inevitably, none of them were still Girl Guide leaders. I cannot help but feel partially responsible.

The stunts that we pulled were endless, some of the most notable included the shining of flashlights in the eyes of our fellow Girl Guides whilst they were in a shallow state of sleep. When the leader scolded us and demanded our flashlights, Tammy went off on a tirade about how they accused her only because she was black. The leaders, unsure of exactly how to diffuse the situation, then chose to confiscate everyones flashlight. Awakening those that were asleep.

Another noteworthy instance was the time that we went tobogganing at winter camp. Tammy and I squeezed ourselves onto a single sled and descended the hill together, at the same time another little girl (that we disliked) was descending the hill on her tobaggon. All three of us ended up crashing, but the other little girl was legitimately injured. We started crying and yelling that we were hurt, despite the fact that we weren’t. When the leaders rushed to our aid first, we burst out in laughter. It was then that we were subject to yelling like we were the Antichrist. DO NOT EVER FAKE BEING INJURED, IT IS VERY SERIOUS!!! This eruption from our seemingly easy-going Guide leader made it that much more comical, and we proceeded to burst out in another fit of laughter.

The other little girl was understandably pissed.

Moments ago I was informed that I am going to Mexico on March 3rd.

Then I go to Greece on March 31. My life rocks.

An official veterinary co-op student.

My placement was confirmed today. I am beyond ecstatic. Really.

My soccer game on Wednesday went very well and I ended up having… fun? I, however, did pay the hefty price which was a shit load of pain. Pain that still lingers into today, three days later. C’est la vie.

My mum and dad were all standing together and chatting at my game, which was the furthest thing I ever expected. It proved extremely difficult to keep my attention focused on the game when I could watch the two of them interfacing together. It was very fortunate that she-who-shall-not-be-named wasn’t there, because she surely would not have stood for conversing with my mother in the least, or even attending my game at that.

The next day my father even allowed us to park at his house when we went to the CNE. I am simply astonished that he is getting mature and that my parents can finally talk civilly. It’s been six years since that has ever happened!

I had an absolute ball at Darien Lake, my friends somehow convinced me to go on every single roller coaster in the theme park.