one fine day

Things I would like to do before I'm....well, let's say 30 (it only seems far away, I know).

1. Bike down the California coast

2. Host a Radio Show

3. Enter a Baking Contest

4. Build Wine Crate shelves

5. Visit all the Major League Baseball Stadiums (3 down)

6. Write a short-story book

7. Sail in Mexico

8. Photograph a wedding

9. Brew my own beer (and not drink it)

10. Park-hop in Disneyland with Jalen

11. Visit Garnish, Newfoundland - where my GramBea was born

12. Record a Christmas CD with my family

13. Send my husband to watch spring training in AZ.

14. Travel somewhere by horseback

15. Stay at a Bed and Breakfast in Oregon

16. Learn to Swing Dance

17. See Elton John live

18. Return to the ChickenBurger in Bedford, NS

19. Crochet my own Monkey

20. Swim at Big Beach, Wailea (again)

21. Host Christmas Dinner

22. Perfect the Spanish Language

23. Return to Cuba and tour the entire country

24. Have kids and embarrass them daily

25. Sit on my Aunt Suzie’s porch in Nova Scotia and eat fresh cooked Lobster with my family

I auditioned for moose jaw idol just over a year ago today.

Here is an email I sent to my sister the day after it happened. Brace yourself.

I auditioned for a competition here called Moose Jaw Idol. Don't tell anyone. The prize is 500 bucks and you only have to sing twice…
Here's the greasy story:
It was an absolutely dreadful day - the rain was coming down in sheets, and we could barely see the house numbers as we approached one of the shadiest homes I'd ever been to. "This can't be it." I said. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
I dashed up the mini-mountain of dirt that was the side lawn, only to enter a smaller atrium-type enclosure through a tarp door. My hesitations grew. A confident yet disheveled woman opened the door before I could knock, and told me to "hurry up and come inside" for my 'audition'. It was in that moment I knew: I might never come out of here alive…or atleast the same.

Chantelle had to come in to sign my paper as a witness (yes, I needed a witness - it was THAT legit). Noticing the less-than ideal smoke-infested quarters, Chantelle opted to wait for me in the car. I probably should have joined her, but the chance of winning 500 dollars (and a trip back to the home I missed so terribly) was too tempting.

I then had to stand in her kitchen/entryway (a room of all sorts, really) while she rummaged through her karaoke machine to find something suitable for me to perform. I can't stress to you how incredibly awkward I felt. The house was probably the shadiest -animal-infested place I've ever been. She was bragging to me about being a singing coach and smoking right in my face while doing so (how's that for an oxymoron?). Her cats and dogs were all over the place and she had 3 huge fish tanks right at the entrance on top of a beach towel. There were picture frames on the wall with no pictures in them (you could see the cardboard the frame came with). I then noticed one humongous picture of her - in a sparkly sleeveless turtleneck complete with shaded glasses on - sitting in front of a blue-sky-and-clouds background.

Her husband sat on the computer right infront of me and didn't turn around once, even as I sang "How Do I Live"(Trisha Yearwood - the selection was somewhat limited to country) right behind him. We were no more than 3 feet apart.

So there I am, in a wet rain jacket, belting out this song about questioning my own survival if I have to live without love ("if you ever go...baby it would take away everything good in my life"), and he's continuing to look up random videos on YouTube. Once again, awkward.

So I finish the number, and she starts crying and says "You are the Competition". She then goes on to explain to me the history of "Moose Jaw Idol" and that she has the most Karaoke Cd's of all 4 judges. She then begins to rant about the 'Director', and said if she decided to leave that the other two judges would definitely follow her and so would all the contestants because the guy in charge is an idiot..... (at this point I once again questioned how in the world I had come to this) but that it should be a good turn-out.

I was trying to sympathize with her but in doing so could barely breathe with the smoke-factory running directly in front of my face. To top the whole experience off, I was made to stand in front of a red velvet curtain she had draped across her kitchen door, hold up number 27, and smile through the smoke and awkwardness for a picture. I left feeling almost violated.

The whole experience was very napolean dynamite-ish.

So there's CHAPTER ONE.

I'll tell you the actual competition story soon....yikes.