Another year. another job

I walked out of Treasury today. I turned my back on a decent job for a dream. I made myself damn happy.

This job was a god sent. Actually, that is incorrect. This job was a best friend sent. Because Jason found me the job. Who walks off a plane after living abroad for 2 1/2 years and 2 weeks later has a job?

I'm a lucky girl.

Because without this job I don't know where I would have been. I recklessly spent most of my savings in Europe. I refused to live with family. It could have gotten bad. But soon the money was coming in and there was enough to save.

The job was boring and made me want to shoot staples into my eyeballs some days. But the people were fun. And that does make all the difference.

I sure don't regret the year I spent at this job. I learned some thing. Mostly I learned, that despite my saying in a loud voice for 3 months in Japan about how I really really really wanted to work a "corporate job", it is soooo not me. I'm not a corporate girl. I'm not a repetitive girl.

Nothing tried, nothing learned.

I walked out of Treasury and into the next step of my life.

Yay.
S.

Pop

All my life I’ve had weird dreams about teeth. Usually it involves my teeth just popping out like nobody’s business. Pop. Out they fly. I’ve read on the meaning of dream sites that losing your teeth means that someone close to you is going to die. But I don’t believe that because if there was a direct correlation between my dream teeth popping out and family members dying, I would be so very alone in this world right now.

Which I’m not.

Anyways, because of these dreams and because of my mother’s horrific dislocating jaw whilst getting her wisdom teeth pulled, I have never wanted to have any teeth pulled. My old dentist told me I didn’t need to have them pulled and I clung to that belief for years. Course, he also put huge ugly veneers on the front of my teeth, so what did he know? I went to my mom’s dentist a few years ago, and he was so gung ho to get my wisdom teeth pulled out he wanted to make an appointment right away.

Me: I can’t. I’m moving to Japan.

Dentist: Well, maybe we can fit you in tomorrow.

Me: I’m moving to Japan tomorrow.

He looked at me skeptically. Probably he had heard every excuse under the sun and figured that this was just that. But it was the truth. I boarded a plane to Japan the very next day. And with all my teeth intact.

In Japan, I had dental. However, if you have ever seen the state of some Japanese people’s teeth, you would understand why I never used my dental. That is a country seriously in need of braces. The whole country. They should just round them up and install mandatory braces on each and every one of them. And teach the children how to brush. I’ve never seen so many black teeth on 5 year olds before. Yick.

So I came home and got myself a job that had dental. I finally hauled myself to the dentist’s office (that first day he removed my ugly and cracked veneers, so basically I love him now). And low and behold, he wanted to take out my wisdom teeth. Sure, there were good reasons, impacting, infection, blah, blah, blah. Then he said the magic words “what if something happens while you are in school and you aren’t covered?” Me, in all my cheap glory, panicked a little at that thought. I told him that I had 3 weeks left on my dental before I quit my good job and if he could do it before then, well, have at her.

Turns out he had time.

Since I didn’t have to miss any days of work, we decided to do one at a time. It’s easier on the body, you can still eat and you heal faster. Good idea. So one Thursday afternoon I made my way to the dentist’s office. He pumped me full of freeze. The feel of the needle going into my gums sent me into a total panic. I had to seriously focus and get my breathing back to normal. Dr. McAnn said I was quite white in the face. Me. Who has 3 tattoos, freaking from a freezing needle.

After I was numb, Dr. McAnn leaned over me. I figured he was putting more freezing in. Then he kind of rocked something a little and then he was asking for the forcept and pulling out my tooth. Shocking how easy it came out. I wasn’t even swollen.

The next week I went back for the other side. Got my freezing done and kept myself much calmer this time.

Dr. McAnn tried to sit down and pop my tooth out, however, the angle wasn’t good.

So he stood up, leaned over me, braced and

POP.

There went my tooth. Flying over my head and across the dental office. FLYING!

The assistant picked it up and offered it to me to take home. Ew.

So after years of dreaming that my teeth just pop out, it turns out, that my teeth do in fact, just… pop…. out.

S.

"For a girl with delusions and a bit of imagination, becoming a fag hag was the only way to go." ~Simon Doonan

My boys got married!

I arrived with Grant and Lola in Ladysmith on Friday, ready to set up for the big day. What we met were boys with a tad bit of nerves. I don't understand how it can be nerve racking to marry someone you've been with for 5 years, but most people don't understand how I think if I ever was to get married, city hall would do. Different strokes you know.

Jason had secretly flown out from London (UK, not Ontario), Stephen's best friend to be at the big day. It was shocking because secrets are impossible to keep for those two, because, well, Stephen is naturally suspicious and Jason naturally has a big mouth. Having Dean there made the event. Mostly because he organized that wedding party. Without him, I suppose, I would have had to do it.

There was only one major freak out. Which in the grand scheme of weddings is pretty decent. That involved the buckets that the white wine was supposed to go in. They had decals on them. They needed to be covered. So at the last possible minute, just moments before we had to jet to dress, the wedding party was covering the buckets in napkins and tulle. Except me. I was re-doing the place setting because one sister had done them like you would do the family dinner table and the chef sister wasn't having any of that.

We headed back to the B&B and set about purtying ourselves up. Grant and I sat and wrote our speeches. He went with sappy. I went with as funny as this girl could muster in the circumstances.

Hair was done by Lola whilst I sat on the toilet. Make up done. Dress on. Let's jet peeps.

We arrived in the house and then it all began. We were supposed to do the ceremony in the neighbour's yard but the weather did not want to cooperate. It started to pour. The guests were ushered into the dinner tent and we did it all on the dance floor. Matt played Across the Universe as we walked in through the rain.

I cried.

Just a little. Mostly because I've never seen my best friend looking so freakin' happy.

The ceremony was over in moments but was exactly as I would have pictured Jason's wedding, moving with just a touch of humour. Lovely.

Just as the ceremony ended the rain let up and a big gay rainbow filled the sky. If there was a god, I'd say that this wedding was blessed. As it was, I'd say it was ready to party!



We sat at the head table for maybe 5 minutes. Then it was on to mingling, drinking, mingling, drinking. I don't think I ever filled up my glass but it was never empty.

Speeches came next. I prephased mine by "I'm Shari, and I'm a tad drunk". Not bad huh? Never did claim to be a classy girl. I talked about how Jason had made each other do things. He got me drunk for the first time. I made him break up with his first girlfriend. (I may have even called her a skank). Then I told them how Stephen had come into Jason's life when he was probably at his lowest and when I returned, Jason was at his best, most productive, most happy. And that makes this girl happy in return.

Then it was onto busting a move. I may or may not have bailed on the dance floor. No one seems to remember it but me, so I'm not sure.

Then it was 2 in the morning and I was outside waiting for a car with Dean. We just looked at each other happily and drunkenly. Our best friends had gotten married.

The next day I was the only member of the wedding party left. I had to suck up my hangover and perform the opening the gift ritual of cleaning away paper and writing down who had given what.

Then the boys dropped me off at the bus stop and they were off on their honeymoon. I went home to drop. Weddings. Exhausting.

Exhausting but wonderful.

S.

Tams got hitched

"Shhhhaaaarrrriiii, my bridesmaid has the flu, my dad tore his Achilles and it looks like it's going to rain on my wedding day."

Every bride freaks out I'm told, even those who are cool, calm and collected. That was a phone call a few days before the big day.

But the day was lovely. Alina, the bridesmaid sucked it up. And Tamara's dad walked her up the aisle with crutches. We make due.

Tamara and James. Ah. So many years ago, Tamara and I were in the same situation. We both had best friends who were guys. Tamara loved to tell me how Jason and I were perfect for each other and we should just get on with it. I would always respond with how she and James would be a perfect couple. She would always scrunch up her nose and say "eww".

James, after bouncing from University to University, was in Toronto doing his undergrad in music. Tamara went to visit him as best friends are bound to do. But something happened on that trip and Tamara came home best friendless in a sense. In the best possible sense.

After about 6 years, living together, living in different countries, living separated in different countries, they finally tied the knot. Which is wonderful, because I've never seen a guy look at a girl the way that James looks at Tamara. You know, the doopey smile and puppy dog eyes.

They got married on the beach at Piper's Lagoon Park. They got married under a driftwood arch that Tamara's dad had made. They got married in a ceremony that was wonderful and a little bit dorky. They got married to music that James had written for Tamara. They got married in a ceremony that was exactly them.

I admit it. I'm a tough girl (or I was in the past), but I cried during the ceremony. I also cried during the speeches at the reception. People are so touching at the big moments in our lives. At the ceremonies that mark our transition from one life to the next.

I drank too much as I do so often (hey, the bartender was very hot) but the night was so fun. We danced far into the night.

Wedding. Who knew. And I'm pleased to say that I was the first one to call the James and Tamara show, all those years ago.

S.

Ahhhh

I’m tired.

What a month it has been. Stag, stagette, wedding, wedding. Ah, what’s a girl to do?

Drink.

Definitely drink.

The girls came down to Victoria for Tamara’s stag on the July 26^th weekend. Oh wait, the girls and one blow up doll came down on the July 26^th weekend. We dressed him up and after playing a round of throw the ring on the penis, we promptly stuffed the penis down the blow up dolls tighties. Well, Rina did. Being pregnant sure makes her eager to caress plastic phallic things.

We started by renting scooters and parading around town on them. Tamara’s sister had glued a veil to one of the helmets which is a good thing otherwise the entire city would have thought we were lunatics. Which is all well and good for them seeing as they all live in Nanaimo or Vancouver but this is my city. I have to live in the aftermath haha. And after Sierra had laid on the horn for about 7/8 of the hour we were on the scooters, I was worried we were going to be run out of town. I had Rina on the back on my bike because she was too scared to ride her own. Sure, she’s too scared to ride by herself. Now I have a pregnant lady on my bike that I’m responsible for, not to mention that she keeps hitting my head with her helmet and squeezing my waste just a little too tight.

After the bike extravaganza we went back to the hotel to pretty ourselves up. That meant pink and red wigs. And wouldn’t you know it, I get the carrot top wig. Oh yes, bright red and curly, curly, curly. So to make up for the travesty that was my wig, I wore my lowest cut shirt. I figured maybe my tits would distract people from the hair. Maybe.

People react strangely to girls on a stagette. Granted, they are usually dressed ridiculously. And are acting drunkenly. We made Tamara conduct a band of Japanese tourists (complete with dollar store instruments), and get behind the bar at Big Bad Johns to make us shots. Then we took her to the bar to dance with a stag party.

To be honest, it could have been a crazier night. Sure, we took over a bus to take us back home because we thought it was a hotel bus. Yes, it turned out to be a chartered stag bus. Whatever. We headed back to the hotel to party more which involved going to bed. We are all far too old.

The next morning they made us go to Smitty’s. I would like to say right now, that I went under protest.

Oh well, anything for my girls.

S.

Ahhhh

One Wedding down, one to go.

I'll have pictures next week. Once I have time to catch my breath.

S.