Okay, first off, my birthday was 3 days before I left for New Zealand. So I was sent on my merry way in style. Since it was recently discovered that I'm suddenly allergic to kiwifruit, the theme of this birthday was 'laughing at Amber's expense'. And they did. But it was more than fun. I was picked up by my friends dressed as kiwifruits, which of course induced a dramatic scene of "Amber Goes Into Anaphylaxis" in the car.
I was soon adorned with pink headdress (that, incidentally, I had made for a friend for HER birthday. Complete with antennas that say "I'm The Birthday Girl!" and "Get Me Drunk, I'm Worth It"), and a Booze Xylophone (which was a make up for my lack of Booze Guitar). And soon I was also wearing a shirt that was made for me that said, "WARNING: I'm allergic to hairy kiwis!" Of course, Burt Reynolds came to the party, and soon thereafter, things got even more fun. Let's run through what I can remember:
1. I was permitted to hit drunk Brits over the head with drink trays while they sang Alouette. Made the waitress laugh.
2. Assaulted a man passed out at the urinal in the men's bathroom. Had his buddy take pictures for us.
3. My birthday cake? A zombie head My Little Pony. Yup. Pony head. Complete with tongue out, blood, dislocated eyeball and a spinal column. My friends rock.
4. Friend nearly knocked herself out and broke my brother's new phone. Playing a fishing game.
5. Friend and I drank most of our booze through a rubber hose.
6. Another gentleman friend, the whitest human I know, showed up dressed as a white guy impersonating a Maori bodybuilder. HYSTERICAL
7. One question... kinda personal... umm.... dyadouche?
Honorable mentions: Paper Facebook page, the Morals Pool.
Now, I'm in the middle of moving.
Getting out of the basement of loud noises and cold showers, and into a condo. My friend's roommate conveniently moved out last month, which is great because we had already been talking about me getting the hell out of the dungeon before I went postal and went on a homicidal rampage.And, as life returned to the half-norm, soon it was time to clean my little bird's cage, my weekly responsible duty to take care of the little feather plucker. I remove the soiled Medicine Hat News (which is basically all that rag is good for most of the time), and... wait. What's this? Is it... yes... it is... the tray is lined with bright green Post-It Notes.
Uh Oh. This isn't good.. I decide to begin packing, by taking down the posters and pictures my little living room was adorned with. Imagine my surprise when I removed the first poster, "Fiddler On The Roof", and discovered little sticky sheets of 3x3 yellow paper hidden underneath. Oh my. Let me guess. I slowly walk towards my whiteboard, and, squeezing one eye shut, lift it by a corner away from the wall.... Yup. She's Post-It Noted underneath EVERYTHING in my house. Well done. Well done. I know you bitches were in on it. I can feel it. Not like I didn't deserve my comeuppance one way or another.I also had a moment, starting Friday, when I began searching for two of each animal. Because the skies opened, and the rain came. And boy, did it come. And with the rain, came the flooding. So my humble city and surrounding area became submerged in water.
State of Emergency, evacuations, bridges being swept away, towns being buried, boat and helicopter rescues, houses and barns being swept away, and even a portion of the major highway across Canada soon was gone, and resembled a mini Niagra Falls rather than a stretch of prairie highway. Thankfully, I have heeded the advice of Stevie Wonder and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and have an affinity for "Higher Ground". So there was no worry of being in the flood plane for this land dweller. I did keep my water wings handy though.I went to dinner theater, which led to going to their cast party, which led to a sewing needle in my foot, which led to me going home. Cut to my home: I headed up the porch stairs, and immediately heard the loud piercing noise of a smoke alarm. I ran as fast as my legs could take me to the basement,
(I even did the pre door-opening doorknob touch test to see if it was hot.... see fire safety classes in elementary school? You weren't just talking to dumb drool-faced kids with zero attention span. It was actually retained. Well, maybe not by the kid trying to lick his own elbow, but I apparently learned something), and slowly opened the door. The only alarm going off IN my basement was poor Sawyer-bird, who was flipping out and squacking like I was watching a Discovery Special on The Sounds of the Parakeet. So I ran upstairs and started knocking on the doors.... no one home... looking in windows... I don't SEE any smoke or flames...So after my phonecall to 911, the fire engine shows up. (Fire Engines are even cooler when they pull up to YOUR house: Fact). They inform me that this is the second time they've had to come, and that they think there's possibly water in the electrical system, which is effecting the smoke detector wiring. Good. It's now 1:30am, my heel is throbbing, and myself, and old fireman and two burly young firemen are hanging out on the porch, waiting for them to rouse the wee tenant from her slumber party down the street to get in the house without them having to wreck shit. The older, really friendly fireman who's jacket says, "Kellogg" on it and I are talking.
Amber: "So, I bet 98% of your calls are not infernos, probably a general waste of your time, huh?"Cereal Box Fireman: "Yeah, that's about right, most are something like this. False alarms."
Amber: "Huh. That's a bummer. (looking at young firemen) Well, at least false alarms keep you boys... um... limber, eh?"
Cereal Box Fireman: (hiding his obvious chortling) "Yup, gets us out and about at least."
Amber: "That's nice."
Hey. It's not every day you get visited by the fire department and get to be a creeper. I can check something off my bucket list now.
And for right now, I'm just packing, working, coffee-ing with friends, etc. That's about it that I can think of. Huh. Blogging eh? I didn't know my life was interesting enough to blog about. I guess time will tell.
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