The Damn Stuff STILL Tastes Like Soap!

Do you remember Thrills gum?

From when you were a kid?

Cause honestly, I don't think any sane human being would eat this crap as an adult.

Then again, to each his own crap I guess.

I'm sure you tried this gum when you were a kid.

Either because of its pretty purple colour, or because you were hoping that each time you popped one of those suckers into your mouth, the godawful taste outcome would be different.

Or you just enjoyed putting yourself through that punishment.


A couple of weeks ago, I was at a friend's place, and there it was on the table.

A package of Thrills gum.

I hadn't really looked at one in years.

And you know what?

Look veeeeeerrrryyy closely at the fine print ...

Click on image to enlarge

The damn stuff STILL tastes like soap!

And they're proud of it!

HOW has this gum managed to stand the test of chewing time?

No idea.

Guess one man's crap is another man's Juicyfruit.

Now, where did I put that pack of Bubbalicious ... BELLE ... NO!!!!

K.

Basement Basketball It Is

I have a question for you.

What do you do with a basement, that is:

... completely empty of contents (except for one desk, with this computer, and a chair with my butt on it at the moment).

... in between flood and renovation stage, so it's really only the cement floor, and crappy drywall left.

Huh? So? What do you do?

You let your kids call 'The Boys' over for a little game of Basement Basketball!

Multiple boys, over multiple days.

That's multiple balls bouncing. Repeatedly. In my basement.

I'm ready for renos to start.

Due to forces beyond my control, renos aren't quite ready to be started.

Long story, don't get ME started!

So, in the meantime ...

Basement Basketball it is.

I must REALLY need my head examined!

K.

StageIt - Where Stars And Staff Shine

Remember awhile back, I mentioned my Ex was moving to Australia?

He's gone.

Left last week.


Back then, I wasn't sure how to post about it without sounding like a bitch, so I turned to music.

And humour.

Specifically, to the group Jaron and the Long Road To Love, and I came up with You're Moving To Australia? I'll Pray For You!

Jaron's song, 'Pray For You' definitely got my attention when I first heard it on my favourite station, FX101.9, last summer. **side note ... come BACK, Russell!

In the last 24hrs, Pray For You made their play list THREE times! (and played on my way to work the morning the Ex left. HA! Coincidence much?)

WooHoo!

Go JaTLRTL!!

See! NEVER doubt Mama's taste in country music, People!

Never.


After that post, I checked him out on Facebook.

Sure enough, he has a page!

And of course, I joined!

Occasionally I'll throw in my two cents on one of his status' but mostly ... I just creep.



It was here that I first heard him mention a venue he likes to perform in, called StageIt.

The man not only can sing, he's a damn good promoter too!

I checked it out.



Turns out, StageIt is 'a virtual stage that allows artists to make money from LIVE, interactive experiences while offering their fans a front row seat to a backstage experience.' - taken from their FAQ

Kind of like a live, youtube experience, I figured.

The artist can play anywhere from 5-30 min, with an automatic ten minute encore, and a SECOND ten minute encore after that.

So, potentially, FIFTY minutes of one on one time with what could be one of your favourite artists.

That could be interesting ...


I decided to look into Jaron's next show.

I clicked the little Buy Ticket button, and found out that tickets are purchased with 'notes', which are the site's form of currency.

10 Notes = $1 (with a minimum purchase of 50 notes ($5) at at a time)


Now, let's put this into perspective ...

When the tickets for Jaron's show, last night, first went on sale last week, they were 10 notes for a 15 min show (plus two encores = 35min!).

For $1.

ONE dollar, people!

HELLO! I LIKE this guy! I'd spend my Tues night watching/listening to him for a dollar!

HELL YEAH!


So I create my StageIt account and attempt to buy my first set of notes.

At least, that was the plan, until I saw it was payment through credit card only.

No paypal.

I'm a paypal only girl :-(


No paypal? No StageIt.

No StageIt? No Jaron.

No Jaron? Damn.


I logged out, thinking that was pretty much the end of that.

I'd stick to creeping him on facebook and youtube, and just hope he made his way this far north someday ;-)

Then noticed I had an email.

It was my 'welcome' letter from StageIt.

Among other things, it welcomed my feedback.

Oh yeah?

I had some feedback for them!


Uh ... can anyone guess where this might be going?

Yes, once again, I just couldn't help myself, when someone said 'we'd like to hear your opinion'.

And invited me to do so?

I gave it to them.


I sent a polite and simple reply to the link they provided, and said my feedback was to suggest paypal as a payment alternative, for those of us who don't necessarily want to go the credit route.

A few hours later, I received a reply.

The Artist Relations Dude thanked me for my feedback, agreed with me, and said that soon they would be offering this feature.

Well then. I'd be back.


He also made the comment 'enjoy the show'.

I, of course, simply couldn't let that one go.

I promised that I would enjoy a show, as soon as they had that paypal up and running ;-)

He then came back, and asked who I had hoped to see, and I told him about Jaron.

That was the end of the conversation.


Or so I thought.


A couple of hours later, I get a message.

The Artist Relations Dude informed me the StageIt people were going ahead and putting the notes into my account anyway.

I was going to see Jaron!

On them!!! For now. WOW!


By the time I read that email, the tickets had gone up to 40 notes, but once the paypal system was online, I would only be charged the 1 note for the show.

Now that, I thought, was pretty awesome.

See now, pay later, at original retail price.

DAMN FINE customer service, StageIt!


When I first fired off that feedback email, I was NOT expecting a 'real person' reply. Let alone the full out email thread that followed.

That in itself was pretty cool.

But allowing me to view the show anyway, because they weren't yet able to offer the service I'd prefer, THAT was an unexpected surprise.

And ALSO very cool!

Way to win over the Feedback Chick, StageIt People!


So last night, 9:58pm (or so), I logged in.

WooHoo! My first internet 'concert'!

The top half of the screen is a blank video window, and in the bottom, a scrolling chat window filled with Jaron's FRANS (Friends + Fans = Frans).

I don't chat. I creep. And wait.


I wonder how 'it's' going to happen.

Do I have to click something, or will he just automagically appear.

Where will he be playing from?

A living room? Band room? Hotel Room?

I'm guessing they can play anywhere they have a webcam.

'LIVE, from the room with the BEST acoustics ... my shower!!!!'


Oh ... wait ... nevermind ... wrong website ...


At 10pm, my question was answered, when Jaron just appeared in the video screen.

And it was on, Baby!

Thirty five minutes of songs, laughter; both his and mine, and just an all around good time.


Seventy(+) viewers got to experience the show.

And I was one of them :-)

Yay Me!


There was even a celebrity visitor.

Debbie Gibson!

MAN! Didn't I just think I was the hottest little thing, shaking my 15yr old ass to HER music back in the day!

Yes, I just said back in the day. Shut up!


Overall, I think StageIt is a GREAT concept, that should even be looked into more closely by more 'mainstream' artists.

However, there are all genres of performers out there using it, and people want to see them!

And the cost?

Right ...

Um ... did I mention 'ONE DOLLAR for thirty five minutes, people!'

For someone who is getting national airplay.

Yeah. I'll definitely buy THAT!


I had JARON for over half an hour, for ONE DOLLAR!

Sigh.

And that's probably the only time in my life I'll ever get to say THAT out loud!


Thank you StageIt people, for making it possible for me to see my first show.

On you.

You really didn't have to do that, but I REALLY did appreciate it.


And thank you Jaron Lowenstein, for putting on a great show, making me laugh, being a shit at times, and such great eye candy to boot. *smooches*

Give it a try, people.

StageIt. Where stars and staff shine.


Well ... they do in MY world ;-)

K.

P.S. Do you think I could actually leave, without giving a plug for JaTLRTL?

Check out a version of the latest single below.

Do it.

Now.

Go click that little play button.

You're gonna like it. I said so ;-)

* Not the official video. When I tried to link the code, CMT informed me it was 'unable to offer the video to users in my region'.


Since I wasn't sure if your region would be my region, or a different region, I played it safe, and gave you this one instead.


Enjoy!

It's Not Always The Pit Hair And Pecs That Define The Man, Ya Know?

Adam has a new friend over for a sleepover this evening.

Alec has a friend over as well.


Around 9:30pm, both sets of boys were in their rooms, and I was tidying the bathroom.

All of a sudden, Belle started going nuts.

Letting loose with that particular bark, that lets me know someone is at the door.

I figured it was someone I didn't know, because when she knows who it is, she throws more of a whiny freakout than an out and out straight bark.


I came out of the bathroom to meet Alec, and he followed me down the stairs with a, 'Gonna get the door, Mom?'

For some reason, just the way he asked that question made me think it was his buddy, from a few doors down, standing on the other side of the door.

I looked through the peephole, but couldn't make out who it was.

For some strange reason, all I could see was ... white.

'What the ...?'


From behind me I heard, 'Are you gonna get it?'

I turned around and looked at Alec, then back at the door.

What if it wasn't Johnny From Down The Street? I wasn't expecting anyone else.


With one hand on Belle's collar, and Alec on the stairs, I reached my other hand out to answer the door.

As I'm reaching towards it, my mom instinct is going 'BACK AWAY from the FREAKIN' door, Kim!'

But instead, I open it.

And HOLY CRAP!

I wasn't quite sure WHAT was standing in front of me.


She looked ... hard. And ... scary.

Jet black hair. Snow white, haggard skin. Blood red, clown-like lips, and ... the teeth. Let's just say she could have used a bit of dental restructuring.

The blinding white light I had seen through the peephole, had been her bright white leather jacket.

She had a bunch of open bags/red purse hanging off one arm, and a cell phone in her other hand.


To be brutally honest? Which we all know I can sometimes be ... ahem ...

I thought it was a guy, in drag.

Bad drag.


She wouldn't make eye contact with me. She was playing with her phone.

SPEAKING to me, or more so mumbling at me, but looking at and playing with her phone, and fidgeting.

THAT'S when I slooooowly started to close the door with an, 'I don't think so.'


She wanted to come in the house.

Use the phone.

Something was off. She wasn't acting 'right'.

Was she drunk? On drugs? Meds? Off her meds?

Regardless, I have no idea what was wrong with the lady, I'm just telling you something was 'off'.


I'm alone with four kids, and out of the blue some ... strange, random chick shows up at my door, wanting to come in my house.

So I closed the door.

And I turn around to look for Alec.

There he is, at the bottom of the stairs. Baseball bat in hand.

He'd gotten a look at her.

Apparently, he hadn't liked what he'd seen either.


I looked at him. I looked at the bat. I looked at him. I shook my head, no.



Please don't think it was just that I won't help people in need.

I do try to help others, when I can.

Hell, I've offered my bathroom to the road workers in front of my house.

But this particular chick?

No.


So, from the other side of the door comes, 'Well ... would you call someone for me, and see if they'll come and pick me up?'

I yelled back, 'Why don't you just use your cell phone, in your hand.'

'Cause I need to use yours,' she said.

Once again, my mom senses are tingling.

Not a FREAKIN' chance, Chickie!

And once again I throw back, 'Nope, you're not going to use it. I'll make the call, but you're not coming in.'

Without missing a beat, she yells, 'OK! Call D* (can't remember what name she said, but started with a D) and tell her it's Jeanie, and to come pick me up, and that I have gas money! Her number is 111-11xx.'


By now, I have a living room full of boys, watching my every move.

I call.

I get voicemail.

I leave a message, explaining I have some chick on my doorstep who wanted me to call her, here was my number, feel free to call me back.

Then, she asked me to call some guy named Clarence.

I did.

No answer. Left the same message.


After that, Chickie thanked me, and said she was leaving.

Walking.

I asked her which direction she would be going, in case one of her friends called back.

She told me.


No sooner had she left, and the boys were sitting around, recapping the last fifteen minute's events, and we were discussing the fact that perhaps I should call the police, than the phone rang.

It was the first friend I'd called for Random Crazy Chick.

She told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was too bad she was on my step, but that SHE wouldn't be coming to get her.

Also? That I had been smart not to let her in my house.


Alrighty then!

That confirmed those tingling mom senses.

I hung up from her, and called the non-emergency policy line.



I did this for a few reasons.

I was worried about her wandering along the dark, non-pedestrian friendly street on her own.

I didn't know if she'd keep trying other neighbours along the street. Some of which are in their late 50's/60's.

You just NEVER KNOW about people!

Maybe she was perfectly fine. Maybe not.


Less than five minutes later, a cruiser was sitting on the side of the road, about three houses away, lights flashing.

He sat there for quite a few minutes.

Then he left.

I'm not sure if he took her with him/them, but she didn't come back.

Of course, even if she had, she STILL wasn't gettin' in!


After the excitement of 'police car watching from the window' had finished, I turned to the new kid and said, 'Well, Johnny, welcome to just another boring old night at Adam's house!' ;-)

Cause ya know ... out of ALL the houses on that LOOOOOOONNNNNGGGG street, she would knock on MY door.

Right? Right.



Although I'm now dragging my sorry butt to bed, confident in the fact we've seen the last of Random Crazy Chick, for tonight ... Alec? Him?

How much you want a bet that bat's under his bed at this very moment?


My boy.

Stepping up to protect his clan, when he sensed his mama's unease.

Not necessarily a role I want him to play.

But one in which, once he had stepped, very clearly reminded me that ...


It's not always the pit hair and pecs that define the man, ya know?


Stay safe, all! Don't answer those doors and follow your instincts!

K.

Little Lucy Clare

Today, I have a special surprise for you.

We have a Special Guest Blogger in the Korner!

A former co-worker and friend of mine has a very important message to share with you all, and I am happy to give her the forum to do so.

In the hallway, lunchroom, elevator, snack shop, and yes, even the bathroom, she would be asked, 'How's Lucy Clare doing?'

Not because any of us was making idle bathroom chit chat, but because those of us who asked, cared.

But ... I'll let Taryn tell you the story of Little Lucy Clare ...


Four years ago I would not have paid attention to an event like Prematurity Awareness Month and I likely would not have even known about the work of the March of Dimes.

Today I am proud to be a supporter of the March of Dimes and their important work.

On March 8, 2007, my niece, Lucy Clare entered this world after my brother, Jonathan and sister-in-law, Mary, made the difficult decision to have an emergency c-section at 25 weeks gestation.

In the weeks leading up to Lucy’s arrival, Jonathan and Mary knew that there was a chance Lucy would have to arrive early. She wasn’t growing and the doctors said that if she didn’t reach 500 grams there would be very little they could do.

We all held our breath as Mary went to each ultra-sound appointment, hoping that this baby (gender unknown to all but them) would grow – just a little bit more, just a few more grams. They were briefed by the ob-gyn on what outcomes to expect if she was born at 32, 30 or 28 weeks.

A few weeks prior to Lucy’s birth they were given a tour of the NICU so that they would be prepared for what they may encounter.

At their last appointment, on March 8, they were told they had to make the difficult decision – wait another week and risk that she wouldn’t survive in utero or deliver that day knowing that the hospital had never had a baby that small survive.

Wanting to just give Lucy a chance, they opted for the c-section.

25 days old: Dad’s wedding band on her arm

Lucy was a micro-preemie in every sense of the word. She weighed only 400 grams (14 ounces) and was just 10 inches in length.

At her lowest, she dropped down to 290 grams.

She was given surfactant therapy – its research was funded by the March of Dimes – for her lungs. She breathed with the help of a ventilator for five weeks before being switched to CPAP for two months and then on nasal canula until she was discharged.

Lucy’s time in the hospital was filled with ups and downs – it often seemed like one step forward and two steps back. She faced many of the challenges that preemies in the NICU face: infection, retinopathy, the struggle to breathe on her own, a heart condition and feeding challenges.

Lucy spent 182 days in the hospital – six long months – before she joined her family at home.

Today Lucy is a happy, funny, easy-going 3 ½ year old who adores her big sister Stella and is starting to enjoy her baby sister Mallory.

She loves books, colouring, watching Yo Gabba Gabba and dancing.

But she still faces many challenges: she takes medication for pulmonary hypertension, she relies on a feeding tube for 100% of her nutrition and she has deteriorating eyesight. She has therapy appointments with a feeding specialist, physiotherapist, and attends weekly sensory motor sessions.

The work that the March of Dimes does through education, Prematurity Awareness Month, March for Babies and so much more, is crucial to helping all babies have a healthy start.

Our family considers itself lucky that Lucy is here today and we want to do everything we can do to raise awareness for prematurity-related issues. It’s our chance to give back just a little bit.

Visit www.marchofdimes.com to find out how you can help!

Thank you, Taryn. Thank you, March of Dimes.

But most of all, thank you Lucy Clare, for being the fighter you were, and continue to be.

You GO, Girl!

This post is proud to be part of the Bloggers Unite: Fight For Preemies initiative!

K.

Not Quite 'Suck It, Martha!' Status, But Give Me Time!

The first year the ex and I separated, I was NOT looking forward to Thanksgiving.

In the 14 years we were together, I never really had to cook 'The Turkey.'

Either we had gone to Mom & Dads, or to the Mother In Laws, or the ex cooked it himself.

Don't get me wrong, I always helped with the preparation of the meal, but I was simply the sidekick to the chef. Whoever that may be.


My mother? Awesome cook! Really wish I had inherited that trait from her.

Didn't happen.

And bake? There was ALWAYS fresh baked treats in my house growing up.

When I think back to when I was a kid, the place in the house I remember my mom the MOST, was in the kitchen, hands covered in flour, baking something(s).

Me? I can do a Betty Crocker box or package, and a half decent Kitty Litter cake. That's it. I know my limits.


So that first Thanksgiving, the boys were only 4 & 8 and not really caught up into the whole 'festive meal' thing.

For me, the idea of being responsible for the WHOLE Thanksgiving event seemed very daunting.

Since it would only be the three of us, I played it safe and instead of a full fledged turkey, I bought a ...

Cornish hen.


I explained to the boys that since it would be only us for dinner, I simply got a smaller turkey.

Oh yeah. I went there.

They really didn't care. They were having turkey, and mashed potatoes!

The mashed potatoes being a special treat, as it's not something I make on a regular basis, because growing up, we had it almost on a NIGHTLY basis.

My dad was very much a meat and potatoes man lol.


That first year wasn't perfect, but it was our first as a newer version of 'the family', and we still had lots to be thankful for.


This year, having had surgery less than a week before, I didn't exactly feel like standing at the counter peeling potatoes, carrots, and dealing with the bird.

Yes, I have progressed since the year of the Cornish hen.


However, Thanksgiving and children wait for no recovery.

And just because I didn't necessarily feel like putting the work into it, didn't mean the boys didn't deserve a real Thanksgiving meal.

And we still had/have lots to be thankful for.


So, not only did I mash those potatoes, glaze the carrots, add sweet corn, and cook that turkey to a state of tender perfection, I ALSO did something else that day.

Something I had never attempted before.

I baked my FIRST EVER apple pie!

That's cinnamon on top, not burnt crust ;-p

I definitely didn't have enough dough, and even though Adam was impressed with the 'fancy top, Mom!', I sort of ran out over there on the right.

That's OK though, lesson learned for next time.

Yes, there WILL be a next time, because the filling? OH YEAH! Jackpot, Baby!

Not quite 'Suck It, Martha!' status, but give me time!

The boys didn't care it was a little crust-less, they had it gone by the next day!

Alec's comment after his 2nd bite, 'This is the first time you've made this?'

Me, 'Yup'

Alec, 'Won't be the last ... '

Well then, I guess the child has spoken.

And so, by the way, did the Psychic. About apples.

But that's another post, for another day, soon.

It IS however, one of the reasons I DID bring up the apple pie. Remember that.

Hope all my Canadian friends had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I hope my American ones enjoy a great day with their family and friends next month as well!

K.

Renovations Of Body, Mind And Home

You know how you run into someone you haven't seen for awhile, and they say, 'Hey! How have ya been?'

There's one type of person who will always answer 'Oh GREAT! How 'bout you?'

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Then, there's another type of person who will reply with, 'OMIGOD! You wouldn't believe it if I told you! There was this, then that, and of course the other thing, and then that strange rash that came out of NOWHERE ...'

You know.

More information that you expected, or maybe even wanted.


Usually, I try to be the first person.

However, since I seem to have been neglecting the Korner for the past month, I'm about to turn into the second one.

Without the rash.


Things are in the midst of change around the Korner.

Renovations of sorts.

Renovations of the body, mind, and ... home!

Definitely a good thing, but all of which have taken me away from blogging this past month.



I had surgery almost three weeks ago. Nothing serious. Nothing lung related.

But something that would have to be done eventually, and with the possibility of the whole lung thing eventually getting worse as I get older, which in turn could potentially interfere with any type of surgery requiring anesthesia, it was simply best to get it done now, while I'm still (for at least most of the year) healthy.

End result was a 7-10 day recovery, stitches, pain, pain meds and a whole lot of discomfort.

I understand everyone heals differently, but holy crap! One particular side effect of the procedure stayed with me until day 10.

My body didn't return to 'normal' until the 12th day. And even then, it still wasn't 100%.


Add the duties of Mom to the recovery, and needless to say, I had NO interest in spending any amount of time at the computer.

Blogging or otherwise.


I'm fine. Things went well.

They let me go the same day, just before dinner.

A little altered, physically and mentally, but they released me to my mom, nonetheless.


Here's what I don't get though.

Why would the hospital provide CLEAR plastic puke bags for the drive home?

Do they REALLY think people on one of the busiest streets in Halifax WANT to look over and see what's going on in that bag?

I'm thinking ... ummm ... NO!

Thankfully I didn't have to use it ... much ;-)

And thanks Mom, for coming to take care of me for a couple of days! Once again, don't know what I would have done without you!


Renovation of the body.



Before I went in for the procedure, the nights leading up to it were spent on the computer, but once again, away from the Korner.

After six years, I went down to Family Court one day at lunchtime and bought the CD that contained the forms I need to file for divorce.

After six years, I'm getting a divorce, and I'm doing it myself.

No lawyer.

Nobody is better capable to describe to a judge the way the past six years have been, and the way they should have been, than me.

I've lived it. I can tell it best.


However, I'm not about to dump all the dirty details here.

Sorry People, if you were looking for a train wreck of nastiness, you're not going to find it in this Korner.

And if that WAS what you were hoping to read, please let me refer you to Rules #1 & #3 of this Korner;

I will not use my words to intentionally hurt my kids
I will not bash the ex. (as rule #3 inevitably breaks #1 also)


What I WILL say, is that filling out your own divorce papers is alot of work.

Especially if you want to do it right, and well.

It all takes time.

Unfortunately, time I've had to take away from the Korner, but again, something that needed to be done.

Especially with the ex planning a move to Australia in the near future.


And after six years, it was simply time.


Renovation of the mind.


Now. The house.

And I'm not talking ONLY the (w)rec(ked) room here, People!

I mean, the house.


If you know me, or have spent any amount of time in the Korner you know I hate my house.

Yes, I know, that's a harsh thing to say.

I shouldn't use the word hate.

But you tell me, when you walk through the door every day, put that foot over the threshold, and the first thought that comes to mind is, 'UGH! I hate this house!'

Does that sound like love to you?

No.

I don't want to hate my house. Especially since the boys love it so much.

But this house has been my nemesis since the day we moved in, seven years ago.


So, WHY, you may ask, did we ever buy a house I didn't like?

Ahhhh, well that's easy.

It was available at the right time, for the right price, in the right location, and came full of promises.

Namely, 'oh don't worry about the unfinished basement (etc.), I'll be able to finish that off no problem.'

And it might have been.

Had the ex and I stayed together.

But we didn't.

And the (w)rec(ked) room stayed as it was. Unfinished.


The rest of the house has it's good qualities.

When we moved in, the kitchen and bathroom were brand new. Nice ceramic tile, new counters.

Other parts of the house however, were missing things like baseboards and trim.

No closet doors.


And all of it has stayed as it was. Unfinished.

I won't go into all the whys of that, as I'm sure you can find it easily enough peppered throughout the 'My Opinion On Stuff' category, over there on your left.


Suffice it to say, after trying to simply sell and move on, a couple of times, without success, one day I finally took the blinders off, turned off tunnel vision on the selling, talked to the bank and ...

Renovations start NEXT WEEK!!!

WOOHOO!

Finally finishing the basement and the rest of the house will get a face lift!

Baseboards, closets, and paint ... OH MY!


Seriously though, it's nice to be EXCITED about my house for a change.

CAN'T WAIT... to start!

And again, to those of you wondering WHY I didn't just finish off the (w)rec(ked) room before now?

Lots of reasons.

Money always being a factor. Especially considering this isn't going to be a small project.

Like I've said before, when I'm looking at $600 for the boys to play basketball, or drywall and flooring ... basketball or drywall and flooring ...

Basketball and everything else THEY need wins out every time.

Now, I have enough to at least make it functional, and livable and dare I say, maybe even ... NICE.


And another huge factor?

See this guy?

He's the contractor (yes, that's the wrecked room).

He's also a friend of mine, who, although I've known since I was 19, and even was roommates with for awhile before moving in with the ex (platonicly, People!), I hadn't been really in contact with him up until last year.

HE is a factor that now makes a difference.

Not only a contractor, but someone I trust to do the work.

THIS has all kept me away from the Korner because I've been trying to find 'renovation items' on Kijiji in the evenings, after the boys go to bed.

Like the new-to-me $1500 wood stove I found for the new rec room, for $250.

YES! Thank you, Kijiji! Love you! *Smooches!*

Renovation of the home.

And in other news ...

If all that wasn't enough, there were other events and adventures throughout the month that I will be posting about here soon, but I thought they simply deserved their own entries.

Such as ...

this year's Thanksgiving
the cool new stuff I've been given and asked to blog about
another potential giveaway
the Psychic I saw recently and what she had to say

and of course, Bret Hart Day!

Bret definitely gets his own post!


But for now, I'll leave you with this ...

OH. YEAH. BABY!

K.

No VIP? NO Hitman!

Bret Hart is coming to town!

I'm going to MEET Bret Hart!!! Uh ... I mean ... The BOYS are going to MEET Bret Hart!

Or at least I thought we were going to.


One night last week, around 2am when I couldn't sleep, I caught a commercial that pushed thoughts of sleep right out of my head, and replaced those zzzzzz with visions of black leather jackets, aviator shades, and pink leotard.

It was an advertisement for the Maritime Wrestling Expo, featuring WWE Superstar and Hall of Famer, the legendary Bret "Hitman" Hart!


So anyone who's been around the Korner awhile, knows the boys are HUGE WWE fans.

Mama, on the other hand, despite a 15 yr hiatus, is old school, and was a HUGE Bret Hart fan, back in the day.

Yes. I just said, 'back in the day.'

And now that he's buried the hatchet with McMahon, and has been making a comeback on the WWE, he's become a FAMILY favourite.

Oh yeah, this good Canadian girl still has a small thing for Canada's first son of wrestling!

Just a small one ...

Did I mention ... Bret Hart! In MY back yard! WooHoo!


The Promoter for this event is Mainstream Wrestling Entertainment.

It's the organization's 10th anniversary, so to commemorate the event, they have organized a Wrestling Expo which will feature merchandise, matches with worldwide competitors, nostalgia, and of course, the picture and autograph session with Bret Hart, as well as the 'salutation and ceremony' honouring him.


The day after seeing the commercial, I checked out Ticketatlantic.com

Compared the prices, and decided for this particular event, I'd go for the floor seats.

Usually I go for the cheaper lower bowl seats, but I wasn't sure what security was like at this venue, and at the Metro Centre, they won't let the kids down on the floor when the wrestlers are coming in and out, unless you have a seat ON the floor.

So ... for this particular event, a possible 'once in a lifetime' view of Bret Hart. I wanted the floor.

The website divided tickets into VIP (first 5 rows on floor), floor, (row 6 to bowl) and bowl/bench.

I figured for the sake of five rows, I'd save myself a few bucks, and the boys would still have the opportunity to get close enough to the Hitman and the other wrestlers.

At lunchtime, I went to one of the ticket outlets, and got our tickets.

Oh yeah, Baby!!! Happy Dance!!!

Row 6! SIX people!!!!

Seats 6, 7 & 8.

WOOHOO!!!

After I picked up the tickets, I then emailed the guy I met back in May, Armband Dude, who I had purchased the Jeff Hardy Armbands, and Rey Mysterio masks from.

Remember, the guy who let the boys go into the wrestling ring for their birthdays?

I was curious if his organization had anything to do with this expo.

Wasn't long before I got a reply back, letting me know that, 'YUP!' it was HIS show!

At dinner that evening, I had the boys close their eyes, and placed the tickets next to their plates.

They opened.

They saw the word WRESTLING.

They freaked.

They saw the name Bret Hart.

They freaked even more.

Then ... THEN I told them about the autograph session.

The Meet & Greet.

Adam looks at me, and says, 'You mean ... I'm going to be RIGHT next to him, and I can say Hi Bret Hart, my name is Adam!'

I'm not sure which one of us was more excited when I replied, 'YUP!!!'

Now, when I first purchased the tickets, seeing the only difference listed between VIP and the rest of the floor, was that it was the first five rows, I just ASSUMED that the autograph session was included in the 'overall' ticket price.

Imagine my surprise, when later that evening, I'm on the website for Mainstream Wrestling Entertainment and it jumped out at me, NO VIP ticket, no admission into the autograph lineup.

No VIP? No Hitman!

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

You're KIDDING ME!

Don't get me wrong, as much as I'm sure the boys would enjoy any LIVE wrestling match, it was Bret Hart, and the possibility of them being 'that close' to him, that was the reason we were going.

Well DAMN!

Mama screwed up!

BIG TIME!

Now ... how was I going to fix it?

I couldn't bring the tickets back and exchange them for VIP. The vendor wouldn't allow me to do that.

Should I go out and buy three more tickets? And try to sell the regular floor ones I had?

Maybe if I had that kind of extra cash.

Or ...

Or ...

OR ...

If there was ONE person in the world who might be able to swap my tickets for me, it was the promoter!!!!

Suddenly, I could hear my mother in my head.

'Kimberly, you never know unless you ASK! All they can say is NO!'

And so, I asked.

I emailed the guy from Mainstream Wrestling Entertainment, who had given the boys so much fun for their birthday, and I asked.

I asked if he'd be willing to swap my tickets for VIP ones.

I explained how I hadn't realize that the regular floor did NOT include the meet and greet, and now I was going to have a VERY unhappy couple of boys on my hands when I had to tell them the difference.

Before I contacted the promoter, I mentioned my Operation Ticket Swap to a couple of people at the office.

They weren't very optimistic I'd be successful.

I believe one quote was 'He won't do that!'

I had to try.

I have a little boys who asked me 'You mean ... I'm going to be RIGHT next to him, and I can say Hi Bret Hart, my name is Adam!'

To which *I* had replied, 'YUP!'

I asked.

And you know what he said?

'No sweat.'

NO SWEAT!!!!

Oh believe me my friends, this mama was SWEATIN'!!!!!

And so, we did the swap.

Before we met, I wasn't really concerned WHERE our seats would be.

I figured anywhere in the first five rows would be VERY cool!

The whole point of upgrading the tickets was to make sure we got into the Meet & Greet, however, an inevitable seat upgrade in the process would be an added bonus too!

I gave him my tickets, he opened his envelope and asked, 'Do you think the boys are going to mind these seats?'

Later, I asked the boys, 'OK, so would you be really upset if we got to meet Bret Hart, but ended up getting kind of crappy seats instead?'

Adam gave me a full out, 'Yes!'

Alec was trying to be more understanding, but I could see the disappointment already registering on his face.

That's when I pulled out the new tickets, and said,'Sorry, this was the best he could do. But remember, we STILL get to see and MEET Bret Hart ... OK?'

I then handed this to Alec ...

UM ... YEAH ... that's row ONE!!!!!

ONE!!!!

Row one, seats 1,2 & 3!

OH. YEAH. BABY!

(If you're REALLY interested where that is, you can view the Seating Plan.)


I couldn't believe it!

Something in the first five rows, I expected.

Row ONE?

Knocked me flat!


Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Devin!!!!!

You came to my rescue and saved the day, and my butt!


AND put it in the FIRST row!

Now, the ONLY thing that might make that day/night any better, is if Mr Bret Hart says YES, when Adam invites him to come out for pizza with us after the show.

Cause ya KNOW he's gonna ask him!

Oh ... and Mr Co-worker, remember ... NEVER doubt a woman when she says she really wants something, and more importantly, the power of asking nicely ;-p

K.

P.S. Due to my latest 'adventure', the Ticketatlantic.com has since updated their info on what's included with the VIP tickets. Yeah. That me. Changing the world, one website at a time! ;-p

Freakin’ Ghosts! Messin’ With My Head! AND My Clock!

Remember awhile back, I told you about (what I considered to be) the paranormal activity going on in my basement one night?

Remember, I also mentioned that sometimes strange things happen around my house?

Yeah?

Good! Cause I have ANOTHER tale for ya!


There seems to be ‘someone’ in my house who likes to mess with my alarm clock.

At first, I thought it was me.

Sleepclocking.

Since the ex and I split, I have been known to turn my alarm off in my sleep, and jump up in panic mode on more than one morning.

However, lately, I’ve had a few alarm clock related incidents that now have me thinking it’s NOT me … AT ALL!


Last night before going to sleep, I checked the clock. I KNOW I did, because I’ve become somewhat OCD the past six years about the alarm clock.

I don’t wake up easily, so I NEED to make sure the clock is set, and LOUD so I’ll hear it in the morning.

This morning, I opened my eyes and was already facing the clock.

The display read 9:07am


GROAN! Roll over. Snuggle down into the warm blankets.

Wait a minute …

WHAT?!??! WHAT?!?!? Did that say 9:07am?!?!??! HOLY CRAP!!!!


I usually get up at 6:30am.


I shot out of bed, taking note that it didn’t seem light enough outside for 9:07am yet … but that means nothing, when you’re stumbling out of a dark room with only one eye open, focusing on trying not to trip over the dog, as opposed to actually looking out the window.

Made it to the kitchen to see that it was actually only 7:03am.

7:03am! PHEW!!!!!


Once I had Adam up and out of the house for the bus, I went back to my room and checked out the clock, to see what the heck was up with it.


Not only was the time ‘off’ by two hours … the alarm was turned off, AND the volume had been turned all the way down.

OK, I can work with the fact that most likely … maybe … *I* was the one who turned it off in my sleep.



However … there’s not a chance in hell I changed the time by two hours, AND turned the volume all the way down, AND turned the alarm off in my sleep.

JUST. DIDN’T. HAPPEN.

And as I said … this is NOT the first time I’ve woken up to a messed up clock.

Not fun!

Knock it OFF, Ghosts! If I’m late for work, or the kids are late for school, I don’t think the boss or teachers are going to accept ‘my ghost messed with my clock’ as an acceptable excuse.

Yeah.

Not so much.


Freakin’ Ghosts! Messin’ with my head! AND my clock!

But ... according to my co-worker … I just need a new clock ... ;-)

K.