And She Swears There’s Nothing Wrong

A happy Friday the 13th to everyone. Didn’t we just have one? Yup, back in April. I don’t know that I am that superstitious…okay, I am not that superstitious about a certain day. Today seems to be going just fine, thus far. Knock on wood, of course.

There really isn’t anything to report. There really hasn’t been anything going on this week. I did not get sucked into all the Harry Potter hoopla that seems to be surrounding everywhere I go, and everyone I talk to. I am sorry. I have no interest in reading your books, nor watching you movies. Maybe if you were a little older and there was less magic and wizards then I might indulge. But until then, I will remain firmly rooted in my realist life, and leave the fantasy nonsense for everyone else.

We are beginning our summer fun with a road trip to Calgary this weekend. To tell you the truth, I am nervous. (But don’t tell the others.) I really don’t know my way around Calgary. Actually, not at all. Combined that with my lack of a sense of direction, and to be honest, I think we are in trouble.

I know what you are all thinking, “But Denise, you were the queen driver last summer, and you took everyone all the way to Salt Lake. It shouldn’t be so bad, should it?” I can get you around Waterton and the Crownsnest Pass, no problem. But a large city is another thing. Just ask the girls about my navigating in Utah. I basically just made it up as I went along.

So get ready for more cat noises, (Which apparently, unknown to me, I make when I am stressed.) and hopefully we aren’t eating lunch in Red Deer. Good luck and definitely God speed.

Here’s to:

The Rock—Please get a new song to listen to during our morning meetings, I am really not a fan of Fergie.

T minus 30 minutes and counting—Weekend freedom is within our grasp! And it really was payday!

Google Maps—I am thinking they will be our best friend this weekend.

Jenny and Flick—You guys are funny and entertaining. I have enjoyed our impromptu girl’s week, even if we all just fall asleep in our hot living room.

Me—“Sick of being jerked around”