If only I had something funny for my first blog...

Note to readers: one should be much more specific when making such abstract wishes. After this weekend my blog material is set for awhile.

Sunday was the culmination of the whole weekend so we'll start there.

My wonderful friend Emiko and I were getting together in Canmore (where she lives) for a long overdue catch up breakfast. My plan was to leave my place by 0900, stop for gas and coffee and then hit the open highway. Well I slept in, no worries really - when don't I sleep in? Sent Emiko a text to say I'd be a little bit late and got on my way. It was a beautiful, bright day; a day perfect for a long drive then lingering over coffee and reminiscing. I didn't really expect what was to come.

From my place in Calgary the best route to the Trans-Canada Highway is via Stoney Trail. Great! There is a Petro-Can just before the on ramp; the perfect place for gas and a highway coffee. So with gas in the tank and a coffee in hand I hopped back into Lilo (my jeep) and was ready to drive.

"Hold on little lady," I told myself (Sometimes I talk to my self like there's a cowboy in my head. It makes me happy, OK?) I should clean the windows; they're super grimy and with the super sunshine it's kinda of hard to see. So I hopped back out sans keys, checking of course the locks. I'm a bit of a perfectionist so after thoroughly cleaning ALL the windows I put the cool squeegee brush (I love those things) back in the bucket and... you can see where this is going right?

Right? When my inner cowboy boyfriend said check the locks, I did - they were locked! Yeppers, stranded with my keys locked inside my jeep along with my purse, my wallet and my cell phone. Perfect time to throw a temper tantrum, so I did.

Then with my wits collected and my tail between my legs I sucked up my feminism pride and began asking a few of the men at the other bays if they could help me break into my jeep.  OK I've heard Calgary men are the creme de la creme of gentlemen but apparently la creme do not purchase gas on sunny, Saturday mornings. "Ah, no" was the general consensus and men really? Did you need to use up your disdain quota all at once? Harsh.

So striking out with the cotton-twill creeps, I thought to ask the friendly young man at the cash register for help. "All I need is a clothes hanger please, I am going to try and get in my jeep. I locked my keys in it." After a painful "whaaat?" stare he asked me what a "cloths aanger" was. Man, really? I returned his "whaaat?" stare until he offered to ask his boss for help. "No, no we don't have the cloths aanger but there is cleaner store over there, maybe you can ask there? Please, if you need to use phone to find help, pay phone is outside." Said with much sweetness and little understanding.

I made an elaborate leap of faith and assumed he meant a dry cleaner store. To the dry cleaners I go! Yeah, closed on Sundays, figures. Not like I really believed I could break in to the jeep myself, but a girl's gotta try right?

OK pay phone, check. Found it no worries, unfortunately it is a pay phone minus its phone book. Come on really? I need a phone book! This is the 21st Century for crying out loud - as if I have anyones' telephone number memorized. My cell in locked deep in the bowels of my jeep remember? And even if I did have a number to call I have no money; wallet is nestled up next to the cell phone.

Alright, it's only a 3 minute drive to my house so what, that'll be a 20 minute walk? 25 at the most? I quickly popped into the store to let the friendly man know that I'd be back for my red jeep, "you know the one in bay 2? I locked my keys in it?" Another "whaaat?" stare. God he's good at that.

Did I mention that it's been awhile since I've seen Emiko and I wanted to look my best? Yeah me looking good includes high heels. So I'm wearing 'em now. So happy I can drive a manual in heels, that little bit of talent is making me feel sooooo good at this moment, it's a warm fuzzy moment I will never forget... My good walking boots are in the back of the jeep though, ready for any emergency! Well of course not the locking oneself out of the jeep emergency but hey, they're there! So a bit of a walk in heels, easy peasy.

So one tells oneself at the onset of an unforeseen 45 minute trek through calf high snow drifts and poopy (yeah I said poopy!) dog parks. But I made it home, grabbed the spare key (thank God I knew where it was), threw on a pair of walking shoes and headed back out the door for the return trek.

Huh, just FYI walking in flat shoes is much more expedient than in heels. Did you know that? I didn't. It only took me 20 minutes to get back to the Petro-Can. Yeah so what if my right foot got really wet because the shoes I choose had a hole. Or that I could have called a cab when I got home. I was delusional from the 45 minute walk, OK?

Perhaps the return walk was so quick because I was visualizing all the horrid things that could still go wrong with this whole story. What if they towed the jeep away? What if someone broke in and took my purse? What if they took my COFFEE!!!! (yes at this point I am still un-caffeinated, I KNOW!) And what about Emiko? I should be at her house by now. She is going to think I stood her up; she'll call and call and not get an answer than her brain will start to wander off into all the horrible reasons why...... Whoa! Reign yourself in little lady ( oh I love my inner cowboy boyfriend!). It'll all be OK. You only wished for blogging material not a novella. He was right. All was good with the jeep when I got back.

Confident that I was ready to finally hit on the road; I called Emiko to explain all (and to see if she was available for lunch), put my flat shoe foot to the accelerator and began my long sought after drive to the mountains. Ah, nothing like a serene, Saturday spin.

Sunrise over the Trans-Canada Highway in Canmore

Must add to the to-do list:
1) Purchase CAA membership
2) Memorize at least one useful telephone number
3) Sew quarters into all my jackets (maybe)
4) wear good (flat) walking shoes while driving, no matter how they mess with the look of my outfit