An explosively good time.

I love living in Canada. I would not trade it for the world. However, I'm actually a dual citizen because my mom is a landed immigrant from the States. She moved up here to be with my dad, but all of her family is spread out more or less between South Dakota and California. Every once in a while we go down to catch up with these relatives. The family in California we visit for Christmas, but there's no better time to go visit the rest of the family than during the yearly get-together for Independence Day. Not only do we get to hang out with relatives we rarely get to see, but we get to blow up some fireworks.

After this year we're not sure when we'll be able to come back, so my parents brought down a bigger budget for explosives to make sure we got as much enjoyment out of it as we could. This year also ended up being quite eventful. On Sunday we all packed into the rental car, realizing for the first time that we had NO idea where the seatbelt was for the middle seat in the back. My mom eventually bit the bullet and just told my dad to drive safe as the store wasn't very far away. Thankfully the drive was perfectly boring.

Walking into the fireworks store is kind of like walking into a candy shop when you're a kid. There's so much choice, and you want to get as much bang for your buck as possible. Last year we got a "power pack" and really liked it, so I made sure to grab one. It's a fairly large pack, so the owner came over and tried to take it and put it behind the counter. I quickly declined, I didn't want to pass up one of my few chances to carry large amounts of fireworks just because I could. After some deliberation, we managed to agree on a sizeable number of packages and individual pieces that should put on a good show. After loading them all into the back of the car we climbed back in, and my younger brother reassured my mom that not having a seatbelt was a good thing because in a crash she "would be safely ejected from the vehicle...BEFORE it explodes."

The next day we not-so-patiently waited for the sun to set so we could put start blowing things up. We used the excuse of  "getting rid of the lame stuff" to set off a few spinners and bottle rockets in the middle of the day. As night approached though, we noticed some storm clouds forming just north of us. We had a beautiful sunset as a backdrop, and soon enough lighting started up off in the distance to add a little something extra to our display. We decided to just get started, and my family, along with a few other relatives who had bought some fireworks of their own, got down to business.

At first it was fantastic. The next-door neighbour, on the opposite side from us at the thunderstorm, was setting off some impressive fireworks that added to our own show. The lightning to the other side sometimes made it hard to focus, but also gave us something to look at in those lulls when we were waiting for the next one to go off. The clouds in the background were turning shades of pink, accented by rays from the setting sun. The view couldn't have been more perfect. About halfway through though we realized the lightning was getting a little closer, and saw a tornado trying to form off in the distance. A few people got nervous, but most of us didn't give it much thought. When we were about 2/3 of the way through our supplies the wind picked up. Then the wind got cold. Everyone there knew this meant that the storm was coming towards us, and suddenly it was a rush against time to set off all of our fireworks before the rain hit. Safety was tossed out the window as we set our fireworks as far away as we could and watched nervously as the sparks were blown over our heads. Just as the rain started to pick up, my brothers and I managed to set off our last firework. Not long afterwards, the rain was coming down so hard that you couldn't set foot outside without getting drenched. The drive back to the house we were staying at was exciting, surrounded by pounding rain and constant lightning. Arriving there was less exciting, as we realized the power was out. A few candles solved the problem though, and gave a surprisingly peaceful ending to a crazy night.

I'm not sure when I'll get back to South Dakota. I do know that, as cool and exciting as this was, I hope next time Mother Nature calms down a bit and lets us blow stuff up at our own pace.

Bad timing

Back in high school, I had 4 friends that I was really tight with. Even when we first graduated, we made a lot of effort to keep hanging out and seeing each other as much as possible. Slowly but surely though, we started drifting apart. We got involved in new friend circles, matured, our interests changed...of the original fabulous fivesome, I've only stayed really close to one person. As a group though we still hang out from time to time, and it's always a blast to catch up with everyone.

This weekend one of my old friends decided to have a barbecue at her house so everyone could get together and see each other again. I was really excited as it had been quite some time since we last hung out. I marked it on my calendar weeks in advance so I didn't miss it. The only issue was that they planned it for 4:30pm on a Friday. I work until 3:00pm, so I knew that by the time I got home, had a shower, and checked my emails I'd probably end up being late. Not a huge deal as I was sure people would still be there, but I was curious as to what possessed them to think that was a good time for a barbecue.

When Friday rolled around, I rode home as fast as I could so I would have as much time as possible to relax and get ready before I had to leave. I still ended up heading out about half an hour late, touting a half-full bottle of wine my mom had given me on my way out the door. I stopped quickly at the grocery store to pick up my contribution to the potluck and then headed over. I arrived at her house, and immediately knew something was wrong. Not only were there no cars parked on the road, but my friend's car was not parked in her driveway. Suspicious. I called my friend. No answer. I called two of her closest friends that I knew where helping organize the whole thing. No answer. Finally I called one of my other old friends who I knew was attending and she picked up. We exchanged a few pleasantries and some small talk, but eventually the question had to be asked. "So," I said as casually as possible, "is _______'s barbecue today, or...?" After a brief silence, my friend laughed and informed me that the barbecue was, in fact, tomorrow.

We've all done it, it's not that bad. However, my attempts to contact people meant that not only did I have to explain the whole thing to my mom when I arrived home so quickly, but also to two of the friends I had called who noticed the missed phone calls and wanted to know what was up. I got to re-live the embarrassment 3 times as people laughed at my mistake. But hey, days like this are the reason I learned to laugh at myself, and I had an awesome story when I showed up to the actual barbecue the next day.

Why the people who design bike lanes are cruel

This summer, I am trying to bike to and from work every day as a means of saving money and getting a bit of exercise. When I first made this decision, I looked up the best bike route that would keep me from having to share the road with cars as much as possible. Off-road bike paths are obviously the prime choice, but they are few and far between. While things such as wide lanes and back roads with little traffic work well, the best option is bike lanes on the side of the road. 90% of the time, these are great. However, occasionally it seems the people designing these bike lanes decide to mess with my head. There can't be any other reason.

I have one particular road that I bike down on my way to work that is indicated as a bike route on any map that you can look at. For the most part, they've done a good job of keeping this road bike-friendly. However, there is an unfortunate number of places that I run into some very frustrating issues.

The Disappearing Lane

On the top of this photo, I've indicated the bike lane I ride down. Up until this point this lane is well-marked and puts lots of space between me and the scary drivers who sometimes like to pass by a little too close for comfort. About a block after this intersection, the bike lane is there, ready and waiting for me. However, as I have indicated at the bottom of this photo, the bike lane just...disappears. Sure, there's a sign that says "Share The Road". And sure, there's a mark on the road that indicates that bicycles are supposed to go there. But the actual bike lane? Nowhere to be seen. Not to mention this happens to be the busiest segment of the entire road, and I'm stuck blocking traffic with nowhere else to go.

A word of advice to anyone designing bike lanes: a painting of a bicycle on the road does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to make room for cyclists, or make drivers more receptive to sharing the road.

The Bike Route That REALLY Shouldn't Be A Bike Route

There's one particular intersection on this road that should not exist, period. It should be a nice, normal intersection with one road going east-west and one road going north-south. Someone managed to screw it up. Cars going through it are presented with a confusing mess of directions, turns, and lights. It would not surprise me if multiple times a day a car ended up going the wrong way in the wrong lane. For bikes, this presents an interesting problem. Going North, getting through the intersection is a simple process involving one light with a bike lane waiting for you on the other side. Going South is a nightmare. First you have to go from your nice, friendly bike lane on the right side of the road and cross two lanes of traffic to get into the left turn lane. On a quiet Sunday when there's no cars on the road? Sure. During rush hour traffic? In your dreams. After getting into the turn lane, you likely have to wait squished between stopped cars that don't want you near them and moving cars zipping past you at 60 km/h. When the light turns green you have to squeeze through two different turning points and try not to get hit, only to come out on the other side and discover that you have been deposited in the left hand lane instead of the right! Now you have to try and navigate your way to the safer part of the road while avoiding getting hit by a car from both sides. Again, during rush hour traffic there's no way I would even think of attempting this manoeuvre. Seeing as I bike home right as the roads are starting to fill up, I choose to go a bit further east in favour of a road that may lack bike lanes, but makes up for it with wide lanes and lower levels of traffic.

The Right Turn Lane

Now, I should start off by clarifying that I have nothing against right turn lanes. Most of the time, they're a very useful addition to busy roads. Even bikes can navigate them with ease, if they're dealt with properly. My favourite method that is used to seamlessly deal with cars that want to turn and bicycles that don't is having the turn lane branch off of the bike lane. This setup ensures that cars know that there's going to be bicycles that want to go straight. The drivers are going to be more aware of the intentions of nearby cyclists, and are less likely to cut them off thinking the cyclists are turning too. Should the cyclists be turning right as well, all they have to do is follow the right turn lane and the problem is solved! Everyone is happy (more or less) and the cyclists are as safe as they can be.

Sometimes, having the turn lane branch off of the bike lane isn't really an option. In the picture on the right, the right lane becomes the turn lane, so there's no way to get the cyclists wanting to go straight over to the other side. Now, most days I'm heading out early enough that there's not much traffic and I can just cut across to the lanes going straight, as indicated by the red arrow. However, should I find myself faced with an onslaught of vehicles that are not going to kindly let me cross over, the city has given me an alternative! As the green arrow indicates, there's a fork off the side of the road that takes me onto a separate path intended just for bikes. It gets me around the corner without forcing me to play chicken with cars, and lines me up with a crosswalk to get me back on track. Two equally good options, both getting me exactly where I want to go.

Occasionally, though I come across a little gem like this one on the left. I'll be bicycling along, minding my own business and enjoying life in the bike lane. I see the turn lane up ahead but I'm not too worried because I know there's lots of wonderful ways of dealing with this situation. All of the sudden I find myself heading straight into the turn lane and running out of bike lane fast. I see there's a crosswalk that'll get me where I need to go, but a quick survey tells me that there's no easy way for me to get onto the sidewalk so I'm not stopping in the middle of the road to cross it. I start slowing down and shoulder-checking like mad as I realize my only option is to cut across the turn lane. Unfortunately for me, there's loads of cars coming my way and it's nearly impossible to figure out who's turning and who isn't. Thankfully a kind driver noticed my panicky demeanor and stopped so I could safely make my way over to the lane going straight through. The worst part? The bike lane continues after the intersection. You are clearly intended to go straight through, whoever designed this lane just decided the cyclists were going to magic themselves over to the other side. Seriously, who does stuff like this?

I have a dream. A dream that one day, cyclists and drivers can share the road in peace, with clear indications of where people are going and lots of bike lanes so no one's blocking anyone.

One day, my friends, one day.

Drag queens are my heros

I mean, really. How could you NOT love that?

I think I was in high school when I first discovered drag queens. There's just something about them that calls to me. Maybe it's the flamboyance, the outrageous outfits, the crazy wigs and make up. Most likely, it's the fact that they aren't afraid to be themselves. These are men that have decided that they'd enjoy dressing up like a woman, and said screw the critics and did it! Of course, me being a female, and a straight one at that, I'm not really drag queen material.

Last night I went to see a show called "Fit for a Queen", which had performances from 10 different drag queens. Some were better, some were worse, and one did an absolutely FANTASTIC impression of Ella Fitzgerald (if I remember correctly) that brought the house down. It was beyond entertaining, and some of those queens were more gorgeous than most of the women I know. Of course, all of this just served to re-kindle my desire to be a drag queen. A totally unsatisfied desire.

When I got home I made a quick post on facebook about going to the show. As soon as I posted it facebook was recommending a fan page for drag queens, because it's stalkerish like that. I decided to check it out. When I read the description of the page, it talked about faux queens, or biologically-challenged queens, which are girls who perform as drag queens. THEY EXIST! Though they only seem to exist in the states. I live in Canada. Hmmm.

I have a feeling the next month or so will involve a lot of looking for faux queens where I live. My dream may yet come true.

I heart germs.

Okay, not really. But I am a subscriber to the belief that being a germaphobe does more harm than good. For one, preventing yourself from being exposed to germs weakens your immune system, making you more susceptible to getting sick when you do finally meet with one. But worse is that the overuse of antibacterial products helps create superbugs that are hard to kill because they're immune to everything.

I get it though. There are some pretty nasty bugs out there that you REALLY don't want to get. However, I've seen some commercials that are the epitome of taking things too far when it comes to avoiding germs.

A little while back I saw an ad where the actors made a big deal about not touching anything with their hands. It ended up being an ad for portable hand sanitizers that you can carry around in your purse. The message: you never know what your touching, so HAVE HAND SANITIZER AT ALL TIMES!!!! Well, how about you just wash your hands before you eat? Problem solved!

My all time favourite, though, has to be a new commercial out for automatic hand soap dispensers. They actually say that "you'll never have to touch a germy soap pump again!" Okay, boys and girls, let me explain this to you. When you touch the germy soap pump? You're doing it to get soap. Guess what you do right afterwards? YOU WASH YOUR HANDS! What does it matter if the soap pump is germy or not, anything you happen to pick up will soon be gone without a trace.

Like I said, if you want to avoid germs I won't begrudge you. To each his own. But really, advertisers? Really? I'm disappointed.

Birthdays gone wrong

My family went through a phase where we were really into using funny candles on birthdays. You know, the ones with multi-coloured flames or that play music when you light them up. I loved those candles, they added some flair to your everyday, average birthday cake. Recently, my uncle reminded me why we stopped using them.

Situation 1: The Best of Intentions

One year for my birthday, my grandma found a trick candle that wouldn't go out. Excited to have a laugh at my expense, she snuck one onto my birthday cake. After it was presented to me with a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday, she watched in glee as I skillfully blew out every candle with one breath. As I sat up, feeling smug about my achievement, one of the candles sputtered and came back to life. No problem, I simply bent over and blew it out a second time. Again, it sputtered back to life. At this point most of my family members had caught on to what my grandma had done and were snickering quietly. Except my uncle. Seeing that I was struggling, he licked his fingers, reached over, and put the candle out for me. The uproar afterwards was impressive, and my uncle was in the doghouse for the rest of the afternoon for ruining my grandma's fun.

Situation 2: The Zombie Candle

It was my younger brother's birthday. My mom found a candle that, when you lit it, would play Happy Birthday. After much eye-rolling and groaning when she got it going, my brother was eager to make it stop so he blew it out. The music kept playing. Then he tried the lick-and-snuff manoeuvre. The music kept playing. Next, he actually removed the candle from the base. The music kept playing. Houston, we have a problem.

At this point we were at a loss. How could we make it stop? As much as it was amusing at first, the tinny, overly-cheerful music was starting to get on our nerves. Finally we decided to submerge it in water and short out it electrical bits. I kid you not, the base not only continued playing but changed its tune and started playing This Old Man. We stood there, baffled, and started considering the possibility that this candle base may be haunted. We tried tons of different ways to kill it, I think we even found a battery in it and removed it, and nothing worked. Eventually we buried it in a bag of garbage and left the room to wait it out. It took hours for it to finally give up the ghost.

I believe that was the last time we used a funny candle. Somehow I'm not surprised.

It's the little things

Remotes are rather simple devices. You point it at something. You press buttons. It does stuff. But I never realized how under-appreciated my remote was until it decided to stop working.

The whole ordeal started off fairly simply. One day I went to use my remote, and even though it went through the motions my TV refused to wake up. I looked up how to program my remote, and eventually figured out I had to get the remote into program mode, press codes for the television until the button in the corner started flashing, take out the batteries, put them back in, and voila! The remote worked. Until the next day. So I tried changing the batteries and repeating the process all over again. Once again, the remote worked for a day before losing it again. And then it quit all together. Finally I resigned myself to the fact I had to get a new one. During the two weeks it took for me to actually get out and buy one, I simply went without. Never have I missed an inanimate object so much.

The biggest issue was that my TV doesn't actually go to all the channels on it's own. It can count to 15, and then skips to 70. Suddenly my show selection was limited, and I found myself watching lovely programs such as the Tyra Banks show *shudder*. You think I would just stop watching, but I like to have background noise when I'm hanging out around the house. Then I'd try and find out what else was on, but I'd look away for a couple seconds and miss the few channels I could actually watch. Eventually I just left my TV on one channel and watched it regardless of what was on. Ever heard of "Day of the Triffids?" Neither had I. It's weird.

Yesterday I finally got a new remote. Today I didn't like what was on, and the glee I got from being able to just flip around and see what was on was a little scary, to be honest.

On a completely unrelated note, I've decided it might be time for me to get out of the house more.