And breathe

I usually try to pace my blog posts, but there's just so much to say and I've actually got time, so here goes...

The weekend that should've knocked me out in actuality just winded me a bit. As I wrote the earlier post about all the commitments and engagements coming up in the next month I realized I should pace myself a bit. So, if you can believe it, I passed off some of the social activities to others to save my strength. Weird Kid took Baby Sis to the Stampede this morning and it sounds like they had a great time. I, too, enjoyed myself, sleeping in for the first time in a little while. I passed on yesterday's Family Day at the Stampede with Lana, Posie et al in exchange for working my retail job as they were understaffed. It being Family Day, the mall was not all that hectic. Easy money.

But Friday and Saturday??? Hooo boy, it was manic. Dare I say I'm getting too old for all this excitement.

Let's talk about Friday. We weren't even at the Stampede until 3:30/4 pm. Mind you, Daisy had attended the Parade in the morning and squeezed in a hair highlighting appointment after that. So really, that girl had not been home in over 19 hours (we got home around 2:30am.) My day wasn't as brutal as all I did was help my brother talk with the celly salesmen (really, they're only one shade below car dealers when it comes to promoting a certain phone, downplaying another, selling you crap you don't need on it, etc.) and did a bit of vintage shopping. Nope didn't buy anything, nothing seems to be striking me these days.

So yes, the Stampede on its first day of operations. Initially I had purchased a pass for 20 rides assuming Daisy would have bought the same. Unfortunately, she missed the deadline. It was actually a blessing in disguise that we split the pass giving us only 10 rides each (though it became 11 rides due to a glitch in the system.) For starters, Daisy is more into the traditional carnival rides while I'm more game for the thrill action-type rides. We are talking about Tilt-A-Whirl and Big Wheel (a huge ferris wheel) versus the Fireball and Drop of Fear. Very difficult to find a happy medium between us two, but we managed. After several years of avoidance on her part, she had no choice but to accompany me on the Drop of Fear. But more on that later.

You know your system is slightly askew when you feel slightly ill from spinning around on the Tilt-A-Whirl. Who gets sick on such a tame ride? *raises hand sheepishly* It's a recent development. I can't explain it. Drop me, whip me around in big circles around and upside down...just don't spin me in a tight circle. Oi vay.

One of the best moments of the day was dragging Daisy onto the Drop of Fear. She always had an excuse not to go on that ride for the longest time, but seeing as it was only her and I this year, she had to submit. I had no idea just how much she was dreading the ride until I got us bumped up the line to pair up with another pair of riders to fill the ride car.

"What??? Leah, where are you going? Already?! I'm not ready yet! We're next??? Why?"

She was a true sport about it. And really the ride is quite painless. They strap you in, they hoist you up, they drop you, they set you free, next! I mean, I'm terrified of heights when I'm standing...and although you're sitting in this ride it still wrings my stomach when I'm waaaaaay up there above the trees, overlooking the city skyline. You wait and you wait, never knowing when the random timer is going to let you go. And that's the part that kills you the most, the anticipation...the not-knowing. There is just no way to prepare. I hate what that ride does to me, but I love the fact that it does accomplish that. Does that make any sense? Chalk it up to another thing that I love to hate.

We took a little breather in the casino killing time until the Sloan concert. I doubled my money. I'm not a big gambler so I only changed up 5 dollars in quarters. But you see, they had Playboy quarter slots. Goodness me I love that bunny. Drop a quarter, drop a quarter, more quarters drop in your favor, drop another quarter, more quarters drop for you. I came out with 10 dollars. Thank you, bunnyman. I always knew you were my lucky charm.

In Daisy's defense, Sloan was quite enjoyable. Never mind that I only knew 3 songs out of their whole set, and that they made me wait almost until the end of the show to hear the only song that I love.

"'cuz I'm the other man, noone's rooting for me. Now I'm the other man, nature will abhor me."

Ah yes, and the queen of Whack-A-Mole still reigns supreme. Bow down! This year I got a Scooby-Doo from bopping those dayglo colored critters on their robotic heads. Absent from the midway this year was the Roller Racers game. A shame, really. Perhaps they clued into the fact that we had found the secret to winning. (A hint for those who ever encounter the Roller Racers game: Roll the ball into the "slow" hole. The ball gets back to you quicker and so you squeeze in 2-3 paces ahead of the guy who always aims for the "fastest" hole. Keep it up and you can't go wrong. I swear.)

We did observe that the Carnies (midway workers) are not as scary these days. Unsure if this is due to the fact that we are getting older...but I don't think that's quite it. There are more lady Carnies lately, and a majority of them (from both genders) are clean-cut.

Another sign we're getting too old: An older, though fairly hot, Carnie was flirting with us as we went on a spin on his Scrambler. He kept calling us "gorgeous," "young ladies," or the all-out "gorgeous young ladies." I realize he was only making his job/day more fun and enjoyable, but I appreciated his under-the-breath comments that it was a shame we were dateless for the Stampede. Daisy on the other hand, missing the sincerity/playfulness of his remarks, thought he was being sarcastic when he called us "young ladies." That girl, I tell ya. She's going to cause the two of us more grey hairs than we ought to have at our age.

And yet, some things never change. I was once again hounded by an icky older man. This time it was a drunk First Nations guy (that's PC for Native American here in Canada). During our midnight snacks before heading home this guy came shuffling up to me.

"Hey!"

I ignored him and went to throw my wrapper in the garbage can. But maybe he just wasn't close enough for me to hear him. *sarcastic*

"Hey!"

There was no escaping him now. He was right in front of my face, eating his hot dog.

"Let's go on the merry-go-round together."

"There is no merry-go-round here." *walking away*

"Hey! Hey! I'm from Japan!"

Despite that, it was another great day at the Stampede. I may be getting a bit old for some of the rides now, but I'll always love the carnival games. And all those junky foods that kill you? Love them, too. Thank goodness it only happens once a year.