Ketchup Catsup Catch-Up
omg there's a lot of this to be done...

The End Of An Era

No, contrary to popular belief, that theatre is NOT closing down to lack of attendance. I quit my job. Yup. February 26th was my last day at my beloved, first-ever legitimate job at the theatre. 5 and a half years I lived, breathed, ate, slept, grew-up, matured, and experienced the working life with all the others there. There are only a handful of the original staff left but we always had fun.

They bought me a day at the spa along with a huge card as a farewell, and took me out for sushi lunch at KEN'S (my fave) where we had some good times involving pictures, sampling, reminiscing, and too much wasabi (bwahahaha!)

Quote of the day: "..ooOOooHhhh..." --TK, after stepping up the the challenge, and not quite making it...

I confess, I already miss the guys--literally, they're all guys there--and am kind actually looking forward to going to pick up my last paycheque this Thursday, just so I can have an excuse to drop in and say 'hi'. Don't tell, but I'm planning on baking them cookies to munch on during their Thursday night goof-offs...ah, the memories. Thanks guys.
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Strawfairy Who???
That's right, those who know, know. I was moved to tears the other night when this particular magical being walked up my side-porch to appear at my door wielding a volleyball. For me. A Tachikara. My very own Tachikara volleyball. *sigh* He said it was his thank-you gift to me for all the free movies I snuck him and the gf into. I wish I hadn't so hastily quit now that I know what my generousity gets me. ;) But really, THANK YOU L---- MOFO!!! (you're not really a mofo--I just like the fact that the guys called you that) *sniff* I really was going to cry when you handed that over to me...you really didn't have to. You needn't have thanked me. But thank-YOU!!! Now let us have a moment to admire the beauty that is the volleyball.

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It's A Bird...It's A Plane...It's Super-Mel!!! No, Wait, It's A Plane...
I think sometime last year or the year before, my parents bought my brother gift certificates for a flying lesson for his birthday. For the duration of time since that birthday until 2 weeks ago, my brother left those gift certificates clipped to the fridge, saving them for the day hell froze over. Unfortunately for him, my parents thwarted his patient plans and booked not only him, but myself as well, into a flying lesson two Sundays ago.

At first, I admit, I was reluctant to go. Not because I was afraid of flying or anything, but more or less because my parents wanted me to do this and so I felt it was my daughterly-duty to put up some resistance. I had better things to do, like pretending to do homework, preparing the Wheels section of the Star for Squig, or holding the phone to my ear while there was a silent person on the other line doing the same sort of thing. But two o'clock rolled around and there Brodder and I were, in the car with Dad up to the airport. And then we were being ushered out onto a barren and windy airstrip, each of us armed with our own pilot, mini-briefcase, and headsets.

My instructor/pilot was Ellie; she took me out to the plane and literally gave me a crash course on what to look for before take-off. Then she threw me and my mini-briefcase--containing important flight/plane ownership documents--into the plane (which was a cessna and really no bigger than my Civic) plugged my headset in and continued my crash course in there.
    "When we're on the ground, you steer with your feet, when we're in the air, you steer with your hands. Ever riden a roller coaster before?"
    "Yup. I love'em."
    "Good, cuz that's what it's going to feel like up there. This plane is small so you'll feel every little bump. It may seem kinda scary, but don't worry, it's not going to fall apart--it's supposed to be shaky."

And she wasn't kidding. After getting the hang of taxiing on the ground, Ellie let me send the plane down the runway and pull the throttle to take-off on my own. And I did...and my stomach hit the base of my spine--what a rush!!! It was awesome from there on in. We were in the air for at least half an hour; we headed north towards Lake Simcoe while Brodder's pilot, Chris, took them south towards TO. It was definitely an experience to have control over a plane like that, seeing the horizton dip, rise, or tilt left and right in front of me at my will.

Ellie landed the plane later and as soon as we got back into the hangar, I called Hun-Gee and Vin to tell them all about it. I knew Vin would appreciate it the most since we'd already discussed his notion of one day becoming a pilot. About half an hour later, after Dad came back to pick us up and my stomach had finally calmed itself (I wasn't going to be sick, but for sure I had yet to grow air-legs), I had already arranged with Hun-Gee to send Vin on one of these flights for his upcoming birthday. Go Vin!!!

And as a sidenote, I think Chris, Brodder's pilot-dude, is also the super-awesome volleyball player that I think looks like the Coldplay guy that I blocked in that tournament ever-so-long ago. Not terribly important but adds to the coolness just the same.

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Not A Fan Of The Fans, Are They?
On the leap year day, myself and nine other of those dearest to me, trekked off to the Raptors Game. How was a feat of such organization possible, you ask? It was possible through the incredible generousity and kindness (and promotional raise) of Squiggly's over-priced, yet simultaneously priceless Christmas gift to the Boobies. The togetherness was awesome. The game was...just slightly disappointing. Raptors versus Celtics. Not only were all the key players from BOTH teams injured, but both teams were scoring incredibly slowly and lowly. Not only did we lose after holding the lead for quite some time, but we didn't even score enough points to get a free slice of pizza.

The Raps only needed to score 84 points in order for all the fans to get a free slice of pizza after the game. That's not even that high of a score--it USED to be 100 points before you got fed. But nOOoOoooOo. At 82 points and 7 seconds left on the clock, the Raptors, with their last possession of the ball decided to shoot for a three and MISS!!! Why would you shoot for a three when you haven't scored a single three-pointer ALL GAME?!?!?! I mean, we weren't really upset that they lost, but to keep us from getting FREE FOOD by throwing away TWO POINTS? That was just mean of them. Nevertheless, the majority of us Boobies wandered to Marché for some munchies where we were later graced with the presence of three of the Raptors: What's-his-name, Who's-his-face, and Whojamacallit*. (*Dion Glover, Michael Curry, and Jannero Pargo, respectively) No autographs were hounded for.

Sure our team lost. Sure we didn't get free pizza. But the fact that we all had an excuse to be in each other's presence outside of our Christmas ritual was more than enough to smooth those facts over. Plus, we got free Goldfish crackers to maturely munch on and throw at each other all the way to Marché. What more could we have asked for?