Friday, 17 February 2012

What/Who is/are the fubs? Part 3

While talking on the phone to my twin sister (the other fub) we started talking about this post.  I asked her what she thought defined a 'fub'.  We discussed it for a while and Amy came up with this:
'fubs have good common sense'.


For instance, the time I went carolling as a teenager in the snow, wearing naught but platform sandals.

This night ended in me crying in the van and refusing to budge because of the pain.  My sister and her friend ended up carrying me and my frozen feet to and from the van. It was a rough night.

Oh, and on the same note of inappropriate foot wear, there was the time Amy and I got lost in down town Vancouver.  We HAD been riding a tandem bike in Stanley Park, but somehow we scooted right on out of that park into the city and had no idea until a few hours had passed.  Did I mention I was wearing (had brought nothing but) a pair of flimsy dollar store flip-flops?  Oh and it was April.  On the West Coast of BC. (interpretation: it was raining).

By the time we passed the Science building it dawned on us that we had most definitely left Stanley Park.  Long story short, a little over three hours later we managed to find our way back.  But the hours of excruciating pain in stumbling through the wet streets in numb, wet feet and slippery flip-flops has taught me a lesson I never have forgot.  (As I'm writing this I'm realizing obviously I'M the fub without common sense).

Other fub was really nice and we traded every 15 minutes or so (she'd take off her shoes and socks and let me wear them and she would don the flip flops).

That is what being a 'fub is all about.

I can't resist one more story on the line of common sense.  Or better put, a time when common sense regrettably left us suddenly.

I'll set the scene.  We were teenagers, on the ferry, late at night, by ourselves.  We'd consumed by that time an entire bag of wine gums and sour skittles.  We were outside on the deck, giggling about something.

Suddenly we noticed that the mountains weren't moving.  Had the boat stopped?  All at once we were convinced that something was terribly wrong...we couldn't feel the engine...the boat had stopped...THE MOUNTAINS WEREN'T MOVING.  We were so distressed that we approached a stranger (a friendly bearded man--there are a lot of those on the West Coast).  We voiced our concerns about the boat being stopped, and pointed out how the mountains weren't moving.

He was really nice and didn't treat us like we were stupid.

He reminded us that all we had to do was look over the side of the boat to see the water moving to realize how fast we were going.  He reminded us that the mountains didn't appear to move because they were so big and far away.

It was not our proudest moment.

After writing this though I have realized that maybe we DIDN'T  have common sense at once point--but those experiences definitely cultivated a stronger common sense in us.   Or maybe it's just me.  Maybe fub always had it and I just had to catch up.  You never know.  But I DO know that I ALWAYS wear appropriate shoes now.  In fact, I make it a priority to have the right shoes/sandals for my feet where ever I am going.  So at least I learned something.

The next thing we discussed was how we like to think we are accepting of all and any types of people.  Some of our best friends have been huge geeks or social outcasts at some point in their lives.  My husband's a little geeky.  Just saying. (I'm NOT saying that we were really popular and special and deigned to condescend to be friends with people below us...because that is kind of how this sounds).  Maybe just that we have always tried to ignore social boundaries.

So yeah, we think we try to be pretty nice to people in general.

Unless, of course, you don't like something that we like.  Like the guy who said that Victoria, BC wasn't that great and he didn't see any beauty in it.


Excuse me, but that is not acceptable.  Victoria has basically a ridiculous amount of beauty--an EXCESS of beauty!  Anyone who can't see that is wrong in the head and that is our final word on the subject.

The final defining thing about us?

We were cadets.  Air cadets.

And we loved it.  (it was the highlight of our week).

We know it's weird to like cadets.  There were a few kids there whose parents forced them to come.  We had to BEG our parents to let us go.

We're not sure what this says about us, but we're going to leave it at that.

What/Who Is/Are The Fubs Part One

What/Who Is/Are The Fubs Part Two

Wednesday, 15 February 2012

in the works

I haven't posted in a while and I'm sorry.  But Mom and Dad were visiting, and I revamped my blog design, so those are my excuses.  I finally have a what/who is/are the fubs part three in the works.  The final chapter.  so stay tuned!

Saturday, 4 February 2012

There is Only Perfection

Last night was Ben's last shift.  Now he has four days off, and even better, today is his birthday.  My husband is THIRTY-ONE years old!  weeee!  In another five years that'll be me, but no matter.  I'll make 31 look young n hip.  just you wait.

When he goes to work sometimes we have a conversation that goes a little something like this.

Me: 'Are you going to have a good night?'

Hun: 'Yeah...I'll miss you though.'

Me: 'That's OK, I packed pocket-sized hun.  She's in your laptop case.'

Hun: 'But she's out of battery.'

Me: 'The charger's in there too.'

Pocket-sized hun is our little joke.  We muse that the smaller the hun, the more cheek you get, so pocket-sized hun is a real handful.  But Ben is happy to have a piece of me, no matter how small, while he braves the smoke stacks and sawdust of his work.  My husband loves me.  *smug*.

Here is a collage of how the desert scene I'm working on is going.  I'm rather pleased with it.

And this one too.  I think this one is about ready.

In other news, as many of you already know, my etsy shop is up!