My upcoming tropical vacation.

I know I've had a lot of time off work in the past two years, but I told my husband I needed a tropical vacation on an island that has nothing to do with cancer clinics and operating rooms. The solution: I get a 2-week vacation away from Tropical Pool & Spa (my employer) on Vancouver Island. Technically that's a "Tropical vacation" and it's on an island. Hey, I'll take what I can get.

Our ocean side cabin is booked in Ucluelet and our hotel in Victoria is in place as is the Washington/Schultz B&B.  Jim and Barbee will be on Salt Spring Island about the same time and they are going to join us for 4 days in the cabin.

My first thoughts were that I just wanted to lounge around in the sand, drink wine and watch the waves crash in. And I still plan for that to consume much of my time. However I decided we should also do something active. Something out of the ordinary. Something show-stopper. Something to talk about when we get home.

I did some research and found out there's a recently opened Zipline Eco Tour on the island. ZipTrekking at Whistler is on my bucket list, so this piqued my interest. However, I'm not sure I am ready to start checking items off my bucket list just yet. Besides, Barbee is recovering from surgery and there is no way she'd be up for it.

My next option was the Sea to Sky adventure. You charter a whale watching boat to take you up to the north end of the island where you hike in a kilometer or so to natural hot springs whose rock pools overlook the ocean. Ahhh! And then your private float plane comes to pick you up for the return trip. Yes! This is the adventure I was looking for.

I sent an email brochure to Alb, Jim and Barbee saying Please, please, can we do it. Huh huh, can we, can we?

Barbee's response was short with lots of exclamation marks. I can only surmise that the 3-letter answer she gave stood for Who's This For?!!! She's not all that into boats nor planes.

I figure, what's the worst that can happen? They dump us in the ocean and we drown. At least we'd be together. We'd be happy. And a little bit scared. And then we'd go to heaven. It's all good.

But if they don't dump us in the ocean, I'm sure we'll have something to talk about.

iResisted. iPondered. iCaved.

Back in May I dragged my hubby off to the mall to check into getting iPhones. After spending rediculous amounts of time in line-ups and in discussions with both Bell and Telus reps I decided I really couldn't justify them. I really don't use the cellphone I have all that much, and I was off work at the time while Jed was in the hospital.

"We can't afford them. Who knows how long I'm gonna end up being off work." I told my husband as we left the mall. And in a totally unplanned act of impulse we drove directly from the phone store to the Kia dealer and bought my brand new Soul. Okay, I admit financial prowess was never one of my strengths.

Then over the course of the summer, everywhere I turned, something else was pointing to the usefulness of having a smart phone. I began to realize "phone" really has nothing to do with it - people don't TALK on these things! As a matter of fact they use them to AVOID talking ... now we're talkin' my language.

Need a guitar tuner? A flashlight? A GPS? An automatic fart sound generator? Suddenly the six hundred dollar device that comes with a hundred-dollar-a-month user fee is starting to look a little more justifiable. It's no wonder when Apple announced the new 4G iPhone this summer they had 600,000 pre-ordered phones within 24 hours of the announcement. And when the phones hit the shelves in July they sold 1.7 million in the first three days.

It didn't take long once I began feeling flush with Jetta money burning a hole in my pocket for me to put my name on the 3-week waiting list for my very own fart sound generating guitar tuner.

...and I STILL haven't bought any new shoes.  

Here I am!

Here I am!

You probably would not believe the number of times I have logged into this site and sat and stared at a blank blog in the past 6 weeks thinking, "Nothing is funny," then closing the window and walking away.

I recall saying during past discussions centered around blogging that every event in life is a potential story - it's all in the telling. Even with my slack-ass blog entries in the last few months, I'm still getting an average of 25-30 hits per day on the site. This shocks, amazes and shames me.  And so here I go with yet another attempt to become consistent at exercising my exhibitionism while allowing you to practice your voyeurism...

The Jetta finally sold on Tuesday. I say "finally" like I'd been trying hard for months to get rid of it, when in fact I did nothing more than throw an ad in the free Buy-and-Sell and post an album on Facebook about a month ago.

I got enough for it to make me happy - although I sold it cheap enough that the buyer is even happier. My chequing account went into a state of shock when it posted a five-digit balance - however I managed to make short work of that. But I am doing pretty good. I've had the money for 48 hours and I still haven't bought a pair of shoes.

My Soul is Synced

I know I've mentioned it here before that drivers talking on phones, especially in parking lots, is one of my pet peeves. I was quite happy when I learned our province was going to be counted among those who outlaw such activity.

Enter Bluetooth.

As a side note, being somewhat of an etymologist, I had to find out where the heck the word bluetooth came from:

Bluetooth was named after Harald Bluetooth, the tenth century king of Denmark and Norway. He is known for uniting warring tribes of Denmark and Norway. Bluetooth technology was invented in Denmark and like the king, the technology is intended to unite several devices such as Mobiles, Computers.

My new Kia Soul came with built-in Bluetooth. This is a good thing, since even though drivers talking on the phone is one of my pet peeves, it's other drivers talking on the phone that bothers me and I'm occasionally guilty of such action.

My first encounter with having to answer an incoming call had me scrambling to find the 'receive call' button on my steering wheel amongst the stereo buttons, cruise control and horn which also adorn the wheel. I think I managed to stay within the lines of my lane of traffic, but I'll promise you more than one person would have suspected I was drunk as I yelled "Hello!" at the top of my lungs with my face pointed upwards towards the little speaker built in to the roof above my head.

How I managed to have that conversation and make it home safe I'll never know.

Then a few days later we headed out on our road trip to the Kelowna hospital with Suzy, Albert's GPS, securely mounted to the front windshield, and my phone all synced to my Soul.

An hour or so into the trip I got a phone call. Since Albert was driving the procedure went a little smoother and the two of us chatted with Jay, Jed's lifeskills worker. While we were chatting, Suzy declares there is an incoming call and I can see the hospital phone number on the screen. This sets me off scrambling once more (again, thank God Alb was driving) as I start telling Jay to hang up, just hang up, the hospital is trying to get through on the phone. He wasn't understanding me and kept on talking - to which I kept on freaking out.

Alb turns to me and calmly says, "That's Suzy, not the Soul, with an incoming call."

Aaaarrrrrgh!

I'm fairly certain simply picking up a phone and saying, "Hello" would by far be the safe choice.

Bringin' back the 80s.

It was one of those "what were you thinking" moments. I seem to be getting them with increasing regularity. I often blame it on the drugs. It's probably just the natural aging process. While I am not a "senior" like my husband, I am edging closer and I seem to be caught in that period where I'll do something that definitely qualifies me as old - but then I realize it.

Sometimes I can catch myself in time to rectify the situation. Take for example a while ago I was clothes shopping and I actually held in my hand a pair of elastic waist pants. I know! Thank God the senior moment passed before I followed through.

Other times I don't catch myself quite so quickly. Take for example last week when I got home and looked in the mirror after making a last minute appointment to get a perm. I know! What was I thinking?

I think I was thinking about the last time I had a perm, 20 years ago when my hair was all one length and half way down my back. But somehow when your hair barely covers your ears and you perm it, it just shrinks up and sits on your head like an SOS pad, it doesn't miraculously flow softly down your back.

She told me not to wash it for 2-3 days so the curl would last longer. I washed it immediately upon getting home hoping it would 'relax' a little. It didn't. I'm hoping it does while knowing it won't.

Meanwhile, I just tell people I'm single-handedly bringing back the 80s. Next year it'll be shoulder pads ... mark my words.

Funny. But hey, it's money.

I've always said age is just a number - however somehow it just seems funnier when it's someone elses number.

We received our home insurance renewal notice while we were away in Kelowna. It had gone up a bit and came with the usual explanation of inflation and the cost of doing business.

Then the other day I got a phone call from our insurance agent.

"Don't pay the invoice you received in the mail," she said. "I've just realized Albert qualifies for a senior's discount this year. Your premiums will be less."

After I caught my breath and changed my pants after peeing them I laughed so hard, I thanked her. "Fifty" doesn't sound all that funny to me, but "senior"? Now THATs funny!

But hey, it saved me nearly a hundred bucks.

We now return to our real life...

Ok, this is where we pick up and carry on like six weeks of my life didn't just vanish into thin air ...

I may or may not blog more about Jed's adventures with lung cancer. Truly there were moments of hilarity amongst the stress, shock and seriousness but for now I don't feel like recalling the details. But ask me about the catheter sometime...