Have a Good Day!

I drove the section of the 401 that I used to take back and forth to university over the holidays, and although I drive that section often, I think because it was Christmas time, it made me a little bit nostalgic.  I was thinking about my family, and about how quickly time passes as you get older, and a fun little memory popped into my head.

One winter - probably around 1995 - my brother and I were driving home to our parents' house.  At least I am fairly certain Marcus was there with me.  If he wasn't, he'll at least be proud and pleased to know that I think he would be the perfect passenger to have there with me - a perfect blend of "let's keep Kirsten from freaking out" and "let's mock Kirsten mercilessly until she can laugh about this".  My sister's good at that too, but where my brother excels at supporting/mocking siblings in the confines of a car, my sister's canvas of choice is the complete darkness of a hotel room at 2am on a girls' overnight trip after an evening of fancy drinks at East Side Mario's.  

Ok...where was I?  Oh yes... it was a winter's day in 1995, and my brother and I were driving to our parents' house.  It was a sunny day - a sparkle was on the snowy fields, and my brother and I were carefree and listening to music and and enjoying the ride.

As was often the case, my gas tank was almost empty, so we pulled into a gas station to fill up.  Full Serve!!!  Yes!  Do you ever notice how there are hardly any full serve gas stations around any more?  Growing up, all of the gas stations in my small home town were full serve.  There was something fun about going to fill up with gas with my parents as a kid.  In small towns, everyone knows everyone, and I loved listening to my dad chat with my friend Christa's dad at the Petro Canada.  My dad would say, "Filler up!" and Bob would put the nozzle in the tank and then clean our windows and catch up with dad about the goings on in town.  As I got older and had to buy my own gas, it was fun to see the look on Christa's dad's face and hear him laugh when I would ask for $2.00 worth of gas - budgeting was never my strength.  Or there was the time when we went to go pick up one of the McKeon girls, and my mom honked the horn when we pulled up outside of her house and the horn sound stuck - it just kept on honking and honking and honking!  One loud, long embarassing honk!  Thankfully, all it took was what felt like an excruciatingly long and scenic drive through our town (scenic in that we got to admire all the people who were stopping and staring at us as we drove by) to the gas station, where Bob rescued us, made a few jokes and then cut the line to the horn.  Now THAT is full service - knowing you'll always be greeted with a smile.

I think it was at full service stations that I also developed my widely acknowledged intolerance for streaks.  There are few things that make the hair on the back of my neck stand up more than watching someone wash the windshield with a squeegie and seeing a little line of washer fluid left behind.  I am itchy even thinking about it!  Ken used to drive me crazy by purposely leaving a line of fluid on the windshield and then just smiling mischievously at me through the glass - triumphant.  :-)  I have to get out of the car and fix it, or I just can't go on.  For the record, teachers wiping off the chalkboard and leaving a little bit of writing showing would also make me crazy.  The WORST, though, is hearing people say "Feb-yoo-ary" instead of "Feb-roo-ary".  That makes me want to scream.  It's the reason I can't listen to the Killers anymore.  

I'm off on a tangent again.

So, my brother and I pulled into the station, and the attendant came up to the window.  Feeling happy and nostalgic, I chipperly said, "Filler up with regular, please!"  Marcus and I chatted away as the attendant washed the windows and filled the tank.  I am certain he must have done a good job, because if he hadn't, I would have got out of the car and fixed it, and what happened next could have been prevented.

Once the attendant was finished, he came back to the window and gave me my total.  I gave him my credit card, he ran the card and gave it back to me.  I signed it, handed it back to him, he tore off the receipt for me, handed it to me and said, "Thank you, ma'am.  Have a good day!"  I said, "Thanks!  You too!" and we waved goodbye, and I started the car, put it in drive and pulled away.

As I was pulling away, I happened to look in the rear view mirror, and this was what I saw:

Three completely panicked gas station attendants chasing my car and waving at me frantically.

So, I of course stopped the car and rolled down my window.  The attendants were all trying to explain to me that I had driven away with the hose.  I wasn't computing what they were trying to tell me, so I got out of the car, and to my surprise, I looked and saw that I had, in fact, driven away with the hose.  The nozzle was still resting comfortably in the opening to my gas tank, and the hose was trailed out behind it for about 10 feet!  I guess the guy had forgotten to remove the nozzle from the gas tank, but to be honest, if they hadn't noticed, I don't think I would have noticed either!  I'd have to check with my brother, but I don't even recall feeling anything different in the car as we drove away.  I can only imagine how hilarious that would have been - being pulled over by the police a few kilometres down the highway and rolling down my window to say, "What seems to be the problem, officer?"

Anyway, the staff at the gas station simply retrieved their nozzle and hose, and sent us on our way.  This makes me wonder whether the little stunt I had just pulled was an all too common occurence!  Nevertheless, you can only imagine the car ride home after that!  We must have laughed until our stomachs hurt. And then we got to tell Mom and Dad!  LOL

I am - now that I have put 15+ years between me and that day - happy to report that although I miss the days of full service, since the advent of self-serve stations I have not once ripped out another gas hose and nozzle that I am aware of.  Yay me!

Greatest Husband Ever, Greatest Song Ever, Greatest Night Ever!

Seven months can pass you by pretty fast.  How I've managed to let seven months come and go without having a full night out to myself isn't so much of a mystery (I've only recently been successful in training our son to go to sleep without me as his personal assistant) as it is astonishing that I've survived without one!  Ken and I did manage to go out for coffee one night after a parents' meeting at Kaycie's pre-school thanks to my mom, but aside from that it's basically been night after night of trying to convince a baby to sleep - apparently against his "better" judgement.

But tonight... tonight I tasted freedom.  Sweet freedom!

Don't misunderstand.  I love my kids more than anything.  I would throw myself in front of a moving bus to save them.  Same goes for my husband... love him to bits and would do pretty much anything for him.  But every once in a while there is no better pick-me-up than a night to call your own. 

As far as nights out go, it was a really nice evening.  Had a fun time with some girlfriends out for my friend Tracey's birthday... dinner and a movie.  We gabbed over sushi and caught a chick flick.  We all agreed that it wasn't the greatest movie ever made, but I must say... it was soooo great to see a movie in a theatre again!  I really miss going to the movies.

One major contributing factor to this being the greatest night ever was that my husband didn't bat an eyelash when I asked him if he'd mind staying home with the kids so I could go out - even with Knolan being so irritable these days.  He seemed genuinely interested in me having a stress-free, enjoyable night out.  Greatest husband ever!  I can't tell you how much easier it is to relax when you don't feel like you're "on the clock".

But I have to say, the one thing that I did learn tonight is that it's not possible to hear the song "More Than a Feeling" by Boston too many times!  Take a listen:

The moment I hit the road and put this song on repeat and turned up the volume, I was insanely happy.  I may be getting old, but I love this song... and darn it, it was my night out!  If I wanted to hear this song 50 times in a row it was my prerogative!  I sang out loud with unbridled verve... lyrical accuracy be damned!  And that was just on the way to meeting my friends.

(Incidentally, that reminds me of the time I was living in residence in university, and my friend Irene's cute guy friend needed to borrow a computer to type an essay and came by to see if he could type it out in my room.  I happily obliged, forgetting - and apparently not noticing at all - that I had put "Beds Are Burning" by Midnight Oil on repeat.  After about an hour he turns to me and says, "I guess you really like this song, huh?"  I was mortified.)

My trip home still had an unending loop of "More Than a Feeling" on the agenda, but this time it was fueled by caffeine and a renewed sense of self!  After a pit-stop at Timmies to grab a coffee to warm/wake me up for the trip home, my rock-star air-clutches were 10x more passionate!  I held that high note longer and stronger than ever before ("she slipped awwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!")!  My steering wheel drumming was poetry in motion!

There is just something about a dark night, a long stretch of road, and a really great song that is completely liberating!

The by-product of listening to this song so many times in a row, however, was that I slowly realized that I have been - for many years - singing a seriously butchered version of this song.  To illustrate just how far off I was, here are just a few comparisons of my version vs. Boston's version of this rock classic:

What Boston wrote:  

"It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play."

What Kirsten has been singing:  

"It's more than a feeling, and I'm here by my sooooomething."

What Boston wrote:  

"I see my Marianne walkin' away."

What Kirsten has been singing:  

"I see my variant walkin' away."

What Boston wrote:  

"As clear as the sun in the summer sky."

What Kirsten has been singing:  

"I clean up my eyes in the summer sky."

Don't ask me how I ended up singing lyrics that make absolutely no sense... when I'm engrossed in a song, it's got nothing to do with lyrics... it's all about the nostalgia and the melody.  Apparently most of the population strives to hear the lyrics, but as you may be starting to figure out, I sometimes find myself off the beaten path.  :-)

Anyway, this may be nerdy, but the best part was that I pulled into our driveway in perfect timing with the end of the song.  I love it when that happens!  It was a perfect night with a soundtrack-to-your-life kind of ending.  Fistpump!

Having said all this, I just got up to feed Knolan and it was sooo great to have him cuddled up in my arms again.  I think there may be something to this "going out" business, as I feel like I can tackle the world again tomorrow.  :-)