The Junk Drawer

I’m back home from my whirlwind trip to Toronto, where I met three of my good bloggy friends, Jeff, Jaffer, and JD, a trip that will now be referred to as “The Three J Tour.”

Our goal wasn’t so much to sight-see when we got there. The crappy picture to the left is the best one I took, which proves how little I worked at pointing and clicking. Could I have possibly shot a bigger structure out of alignment?

Didn’t really matter because, for me, this trip was all about meeting my friends.

I’m left with an intense feeling of gratitude for everyone who made it a success and gave me memories to last a lifetime.

And so instead of a lousy photo travelogue, I give you The Three J Tour “Thanks a Whole Lot” Award Ceremony:

Thank you, adventure-seeking sister Ann, for taking off work and driving 1,000 miles to get me there and back. Thank you for dealing with the stress of driving to an unfamiliar place and for not making me feel it was an imposition.

You’re a skilled and steady driver who knew exactly when the GPS lady had her head up her butt. You remained calm under pressure, even when the third street car driver in as many days honked his horn at you. “Have mercy! We’re from Pennsylvania!” For this and more, you get instant membership to the Sister Hall of Fame.

Thank you, easy-going niece Regan, for surviving two 8-hour car trips without complaint. I know in kid time, that’s an eternity. Thank you also for snagging that cab for us after we walked non-stop for six hours the first night. With my newly developed blister, you saved my pinky toe from further damage. You rock.

Thank you Jeff and your three delightful children, Brandon, Austin and Roseanna, for entertaining us while we walked approximately 23 miles exploring the city. Yes, I got a blister. Yes, my legs were lead the next morning. But I forgot all the pain because that night was a jam-packed, Amazing Race-like funfest I’ll never forget.

Additional kudos for not mocking me too much when it was clearly me who messed up the meeting time. You said in your blog last week, and I quote: “But the best part is, Kathy is sure to screw something up big time…” All I can say is you know me too well.

To Jeff’s wife, Charli, I’m sorry I sounded like such a goofus on the phone. I had just seconds earlier met your husband, had a dripping chicken wrap in my hands and a soda can wedged under my armpit. Forgive me?

Thank you Jaffer, for taking a bus 50 miles to meet us in the city. I don’t know anyone else who would do that for me. Hell, I wouldn’t do that for me. Thank you for our Sunday morning coffee klatch, entertaining me with your interesting life stories and being our personal tour guide. But what am I supposed to do now that you treated us to the world’s best gelato and I can’t find it around here?

Our relaxing and delicious lunch was one of the highlights of the trip. I’m so sorry you were the victim of that loose-stool pigeon who had you in his sights. I believe in my heart it was because you were sitting next to me, since wherever I go, trouble follows. Please accept my apologies.

Thank you JD and your husband Dave for letting us glom a day from your vacation to meet with us. I don’t think the hotel staff thought we were too weird for screaming and jumping up and down like fools right there in the lobby when we first met, do you? Thank you for agreeing not to walk 20 miles that day, because I’m quite sure some of my piddies would have fallen off otherwise.

Dinner that night was a blast and I felt warm and cozy, surrounded by friends and family, despite the torrential rain and lightning going on outside. You are exactly the fun and hilarious woman I knew you would be from your blog and our countless emails over this last year. I’m so thankful I had the chance to finally meet you (and your dear, charming husband!)

Thank you nice lady at the border crossing, who let us in the country even though you got suspicious when we said we were only there to meet people instead of truly vacationing. Thank you for not detaining us, even though you rightly questioned why Ann didn’t even know the full names of the people she drove there to meet. We know it sounded a little terrorist-y.

I suppose when you asked what we were bringing into the country, and we answered “Oh, just some whoopie cushions,” (gifts for JD) you realized we were only harmless idiots. Thanks for not probing any further.

Thank you Earth, for putting a small jutting ledge out beyond the railing on the U.S. side of the Niagara Falls, so that I could get close enough to take video. That ledge meant that if I did slip and fall, I would drop only five feet instead of hundreds, straight down to a skull-crushing, body-splattering death.

And one more thanks, while I’m at it, goes to my local newspaper for picking me up for a new feature they call Blogger Tuesdays, where they spotlight posts from “local bloggers of note.”  They published my John Deere gift bag story while I was still in Canada. You hear that? I’m a Blogger of Note! Drinks all around!

I’m off now to bask in the afterglow of my Three J Tour and to figure out how I can meet the rest of you guys. What do you say? Junk Drawer Blog-A-Palooza in 2009?

Out shopping today, I came across this inexplicable gift bag among a wide selection of pretty and colorful bags I’d rather get. I cannot think of any occasion where anyone would want to receive this bag or anything in it.

Except perhaps Happy Birthday …. You’re old enough to mow the lawn now!

Or Congratulations on moving that big pile of mulch from here to over there!

How ’bout Wishing you the best at your tractor pull. Here’s mud in your eye!

If you’re a guy who likes to haul stuff around your yard, maybe you’d be happy if the bag contained keys to a Gator HPX 4×4 utility vehicle with an 854cc, three-cylinder, liquid-cooled, 4-cycle Yanmar diesel engine delivering 33 ft. lbs. of torque @ 2500 RPMs.

If you understand any of that and it excites you, your significant other has my sympathies.

While waiting for my car to be serviced today, I had the pleasure of listening in on a meeting between two elderly gentlemen sitting next to me. Complete strangers, I might add.

Since I had my laptop with me, I decided to take minutes.

Old Guy 1: I went to my doctor for stomach problems and he wound up finding I had polyps on my prostate.

Old Guy 2: I have arthritis. Have to get shots every three months.

Old Guy 1: Oh, I have it, too. My feet really bother me.

Old Guy 2: You better believe it.

Old Guy 1: Man, I can’t wear certain shoes. I got rid of the shoes I couldn’t even wear.

Old Guy 2: I like work boots. Can’t wear those either. I wear these (points to sneakers).

Old Guy 1: My feet are killing me. Especially this one (lifts and points to right foot).

Old Guy 2: Unintelligible rambling about pain in another body part.

Old Guy 1: Yeah, probably all that hard work outdoors. My dad died in his 70s.

Old Guy 2: Yeah, but hard work’s supposed to keep you young.

Old Guy 1: I had a dead tree in my back yard. Made my son help me with it. Let me tell you. I was beat for two days.

Old Guy 2: I have a hard time mowing.

Old Guy 1: On Wednesdays, I mow.

Old Guy 2: More unintelligible complaints.

Old Guy 1: My back hurts every day.

Old Guy 2: You ain’t kiddin’.

Old Guy 1: I have such a hard time losing weight (Me, to myself: I hear ya brotha!)

Old Guy 2: I can’t eat bread. If I eat bread, I gain weight right away.

Old Guy 1: That’s my problem, too.

Old Guy 2: I gave it up.

Old Guy 1: I eat a lot of fruits and vegetables. Try to eat lean. My blood pressure’s always been a problem, but my cholesterol is great. 170.

Old Guy 2: Eh, but whatdya gonna do? I figure as long as I don’t have the Alzheimer’s gene, I’m good.

Old Guy 1: Yep. I hear that.

And then my laptop battery died. They went on like this for another ten minutes until Old Guy 1’s car was ready and the duel for the title of  Who’s Got It Worse ended.

God help me. I don’t want to get old.

Shopping for jeans is not for sissies. I spent one and a half hours yesterday trying on thirty pairs of jeans to find one that fit. Yes, thir-TEE!

If jeans shopping were an Olympic event, I’d have won a gold medal.

I beat everyone into the dressing rooms, was able to ignore a screaming child in the store for more than 30 minutes and scored an extra 15% off my purchases because I made a pouty face for not having a coupon. I also lost two pounds by the time I was done trying them on. I was a one-woman Dream Team.

Some facts about jeans shopping:

FACT 1. Jeans advertised as “instantly slimming” are not slimming if your legs are shaped like tree trunks. Nothing can be done about tree trunks. There is no magical pair of pants out there to turn hulking logs into toothpicks. Believe me, I looked.

FACT 2. There are more women over size 10 than under size 10 in the world. Please stack folded jeans top down from largest to smallest, instead of the other way around, so I don’t have to crawl around on the floor looking for my size. My size has a hard time standing up from a squat, sweaty, exhausted position.

FACT 3. Also not for my size? Low rise jeans. Normally, I prefer covering my entire crotch. Thanks.

FACT 4. Jeans are heavy when you’re carrying ten of them at a time. Please provide wheel barrows.

FACT 5. Five-way mirrors are cruel and unusual punishment. I wanted to cry at every angle. I prefer to think if I can’t see my ass, no one else can.

FACT 6. That is not me in the picture.

If you’re the type of woman who can grab a single-digit-sized pair of jeans from the rack and have them fit perfectly, please refrain from telling me so. I might have to hurt you. And I could snap you like a twig.

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Laugh your pants off at Humor-Blogs.com

Maybe my Canadian friends could help me?

UPDATE: It’s a Junk Drawer miracle! My sister, Ann of the Shampoo Bag, was able to take a couple days off work so she could join me on a DRIVE to Toronto! No trains, no planes!

And by “join me,” I mean she can do all the driving and I won’t have to help much because she has a GPS and even if it doesn’t work, we’ll have maps. I have lots of trouble with those, too, but thankfully, her daughter is coming with us, so I’m putting her on map duty. If she was old enough to drive, we’d let her do that too.

Thanks everyone for your advice and offers of help! We’re crazy excited for this trip! I’ll catch up with comments later tonight.