Wynton & Maggie - The Great Divine

Wynton shpeeping

We have two cats.  Well, we have one sleek, energetic cat and a cat-like speed bump for our second pet.

Wynton was our first addition to the Ferrett fold.  A young, very skiddish, very acrobatic lad who "greeted" us from behind a carpet roll at Animal Aide in St. Thomas.  He is not the cuddly lap cat I anticipated, but he is an amazing animal.  He fell ill about 6 weeks ago and seeing his personality do a 180 was shocking.  From a happy go lucky Usain Bolt like speed demon to barely being able to walk absolutely broke our hearts, and after one week, we feared the worst for our handsome tuxedo clad man.  However, not to cause too much concern, after a week under great care with Dr. Lucas, Wynton has made a full recovery from his mysterious affliction, and is back in full force.  Jumping around and maintaining his tradition of greeting Adam at 6am by laying by his shouler, butt to Adam's face and laying his tail across Adam like a mustache.  He must be a huge fan of Movember.

Maggie came to us as somewhat of an unexpected blessing.  While purchasing food at Pet Valu I wandered by the cage where they have cats for adoption.  I must admit they are usually laden with kittens, and while I do love a tiny ball of fur, I have a soft spot for adult cats yet to find a home.  Maggie was sleeping, barely fitting on her perch due to her...bootylicious-ness, and I fell in love.  We both had the same figure!  Not only that, but she had an extra toe (if not two) on each paw.  I didn't say anything to Adam, and we left the store. 
The following day I sent Adam a text from work (which if anyone from Patterson is reading this I did that on my designated break period) saying "just call the store and see if she is still there".  After a few emoticons back and forth including a sad face, blushing face and airplane (for no reason) I got "She's there" on my phone.  I insisted we go and see her and really see if she would be a good match for our Wynton.  I felt like Wynton needed a playmate, someone to grow with and bond with.  He had come to Animal Aide as a kitten with his sister, but she was adopted without him, so surely he was missing a sisterly figure.

Needless to say, with a simple lick of Adam's nose...from the cat...we brought Maggie home and neither cat was thrilled with the other.  We were told to keep them separated for a good week, but after 24 hours we grew impatient and wanted to see the brawl 

ensue.  A few swipes, lots of hissing and snorting, but nothing major.  They are now good friends, fighting as much as they love each other, and Maggie was an amazing nurse to Wynton when he was ill, bathing him and checking on him constantly. 

Maggie is my lovey dovey chunky cuddly cat, and Wynton is my scared yet daredevil-ish boy who can leap to heights I couldn't imagine any other animal attempting.  I can sneak in a cuddle when he's sleepy, but he's no Mama's boy. 

I love my animals, I love all animals, (well except Iguana's, but that's in another blog) but seeing these two come together and bond makes me smile.  Even through the swipes and hissing, it's the times I catch them licking each others heads that shows we made the right decision.

Now then, if we could just find that mouse I bought them to play with as a third friend we would be all set!   Squeakers...where are you?

South of the Border...I Found My Queso

WOW!  It has been a while since I taunted you with my mental babblings, so I thought "wow, what else to do on a crazy Saturday night but add a little something to my blog page?"  So here we are together again.

What has happened since March you ask?  Great question.

Since we last spoke I quit 2 other jobs, for good reasons, that aren't fit to type.  I now work for an amazing Dental Supply company as a Customer Service Rep which keeps me busy 40 hours a week, but my true passion lies in my thriving home based business with Arbonne.  Yes, I'm still doing that.  I have an amazing little, but soon to be huge team of freight trains that chug along with me in this business in 3 different countries.  It's unbelievable to me and I truly am blessed to have met the people I have thanks to this company.

Now then, the true news you've all been waiting for.  It's official.  I can once again shop freely at Target.  Yes, after a long year of waiting for paperwork and meetings and documents, I ventured across the Blue Water Bridge in Sarnia, ON to the litter laden town of Port Huron, MI.  We anticipated being pulled over because of my "issues" with immigration, but ended up being pulled over because Adam needed an I-94.  20 minutes in all, it wasn't bad, and I met the second nicest CBP officer ever after the gent in Vancouver who denied me entry into the US.  So, 12 US dollars later, we were in!

My initial thought was to bust right into an Olive Garden for unlimited soup, salad and breadsticks (and now that you read that YOU want it too!) but my traveling companion, who shall remain nameless, didn't feel like that.  So I told Adam we could go to my next favourite American eatery...Chili's.  One skillet Queso dip later I was taken right back to the days of 6 hour shopping bonanzas on turnaround days whilst on ships.  Not looking at my watch while wandering the aisles of TJ Maxx today was maybe the best feeling ever.  I then set my sights on the mecca of any trip to the States for me...Target.

I poured through the racks keeping my $0 limit in mind, but always knowing a few purchases won't hurt when coming home, I kept hope alive that a bathing suit or pajama shorts would be on clearance for 79 cents like I have found so many times before.  So, off I went, searching for something I could hoist as a trophy to crush my year long absence on the US shopping circuit.  And then, after 30 minutes, I had it.  I claimed my prize.  Two tins of Altoids.

Yes folks, the only purchases made today were that of my husband, and if you know him at all his one American vice is Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Cornflakes that thanks to everyone with an allergy are not sold here any longer.  So 2 boxes later, we were heading back north.

I do love my trips to shop, but today was a great let down.  The red spot boutique is usually the quencher for any retail thirst I may have, but today I remained parched, and with money.  So I guess it wasn't terrible.

So my journey to cross the border is done, and with it I have found out 2 things.  

1- There are a few Custom's officers in this world that actually have the human capacity to smile

2- Altoids do not take away Skillet Queso heartburn, they only make it worse.

Olé.

Closing My Lemonade Stand

It was a sad yet freeing day this Saturday when I bid farewell to yet another employer.  I was proud of this one.  Coming home from ships job-less left me a little nervous, but to the rescue was a small Canadian company providing people with any stretchy garment they desired.  Yes, it's true, I worked at lululemon athletica.  

Pre-luon, or pre-oming as the folks would say, I would stroll through the stores as a consumer in Toronto, Miami, New York or Vancouver oo-ing and ah-ing at the latest things I would justify using as a singer/dancer.  When I would go to try something on I would always get the "and what are you using this for?" question, and I would never be gutsy enough to just say, "Watching re-runs of Will & Grace on a jimmy-rigged DVD player while eating Nutella right out of the jar".  So I always went with "Well I'm going to work on a cruise ship and I'll be dancing, well, not dancing but moving a lot and I may decide to go the gym on that ship and if I do I need something for Alaskan cool nights and hot Caribbean days so..." and the person would just write NUTELLA on my door.  They were on to me.

For those of you that don't work under the guise of Dennis Wilson, the founder and creator of Chip Wilson, know this;  lululemon is a great company to work for.  They treat you well, you get to basically wear pajamas's to work, and the spirit of community and fun is ever-present, even with a line of over 100 waiting out in the hall on boxing day.  I was only there for a short 7 months, but really got a glimpse into what a little company can accomplish with a dream, no capital letters, and a logo that no one really knows what it is, but that everyone wants on the nape of their neck or the back of their leg.  Now that's big business.  I met some pretty fantastic people (except Aaron) and was exposed to things I was too chicken to try, but ended up doing in public.  Downward dog in Victoria Park?  Off my bucket list.

One of lululemon's biggest beliefs is that of goals.  It's all over their website, it's an integral part of being an employee, but best of all, it's just an integral part of what they do.  When you are forced to sit and write out your goals, and really be held accountable for them, you really way dreams vs. goals, and start to imagine how the two can ultimately merge together to become a reality.  With setting my goals within my time at the store, I realized I had to leave the job to accomplish them.  I was so relieved when my team celebrated my decision to leave (wait, should I take that personally?) to achieve my goals.  It was a refreshing experience to walk away from a job with no regrets, and no ill-will.

So, I move onto the next stage of my employment life and will continue to be held accountable for my goals.  I will continue to keep community and a fun spirit within my life, and I will refuse to use capital letters at the beginning of sentences.  see?  Nope, it's too weird.  

Now all I can do is hang onto the memories I've stash-taya'd in my mind. 

Namaste lulu.  Peace. 

http://www.lululemon.com/education/goalsetting?sli=1

Absence makes my heart hurt and dishes pile up...

Alright folks, major CHEESE alert here.  This is going to be a quick and painful post about how much I love my husband.  If you're saying "But Andrea, blogs are best served with cynicism and conflict!", I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it just isn't going to happen that way.  Not here, not today.

Adam goes away sometimes.  Be it for a ship contract, or a family event that I am not able to attend, and when this happens, my body goes into a high state of sleep-alert.  This means my body is aware Adam is not around, so I get very tired and try to sleep through as much of him being gone as possible.  Last night for instance, I got home from work at 5:30, made some delicious perogies courtesy of Costco (might I suggest a few drops of Sriracha sauce to your sour cream?  It makes a tasty treat to dip them in) and then promptly passed out on the couch watching Storage Wars at approximately 6:57pm.  I woke up at 10:09 to a text from my friend Mark who was supposed to visit, and then apparently texted him back with Can't keep eyes open...see you tomorrow, when my eyes are open, or something of that nature, which I don't remember doing, and  I then explained to Wynton that I had to go to bed, and did, for 12 hours.

Don't get me wrong, I'm an independent confident woman, but Adam being gone is not good for me.  I end up talking way more to my cat than is socially acceptable, and magically the dishes pile up.  I have no clue how they normally get cleaned and put away, so I've resorted to using paper towels, and let me tell you that makes eating soupy very tricky.

So, all I'm wanting to say here is that Adam here = Andrea awake and happy.  Adam gone = Andrea eyesies closey and dirty dishes.

Come home Adam.  Wynton misses you.

Role Reversal

I think everyone anticipates that time in your life when some of the roles between parent and child shift and take on new life.  You realize what paying a bill is like, so you become a provider, you start to teach your parents about new technology and fads, a parent becomes ill and you become care-taker, and sometimes you take on the role of protector when events happen to a parent.

Recently, and without going into crazy detail, someone insulted my Mom and attacked her character as a friend, as a Christian, as a Mom and wife.  This person was considered a "friend", and it made me think...what in all honesty is the definition of a friend?  Who better to answer that than freedictionary.com?

friend  (frnd)n.

1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.

2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.

3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement

5. Friend A member of the Society of Friends; a Quaker.

I can safely say that my Mom's so-called "friend" may only fit one of these criteria, and that is that she may possibly be a Quaker.  

I only write this to say that, and since she used the tool of Facebook and the internet to attack her, I am here doing the same in my Mom's defense (and without her knowledge), that no one, NO ONE messes with my Mom, and thinks they can get away with it.

My Mother is the strongest woman I know.  My Mom is the most caring, devoted, loving and selfless woman that I am lucky to be able to look up to as an example and hope to follow in her footsteps.  She puts her family first, and her friends a very close second, if not on the same level.  Always putting herself, and especially her health last, she will drop everything to help.  She will loan money, lend support, or offer advice, (sometimes unsolicited God love her) only with the hope that she is helping.  

And now that I am older, I can confidently say that if you attack my Mom, you also attack me, and if my Mom isn't bad enough...well guess what, than you've got the former Miss Dlouhy on your case now too.  My Dad always jokes that now that I'm a Ferrett I've lost the Dlouhy charm, and that may be.  But the Dlouhy fight is still in me, and I will never back down when it comes to any member of my family or a friend.  (Laurie, it's steel boots time!)

So, please read that definition and look at those people in your life that are lucky enough to have you give them that label.  

Is it real?  

Is it petty?  

Is it worth fighting for?  

Are they a Quaker?  

So, as you put it, "former friend" of my Mom, thank you for inspiring me to really look at who is in my life and appreciate the fact that I have honest and true people who support and love me for who I am.  All of my crazy, all of my belting, all of my Arbonne-ing.

But most of all, thank you for reminding me how wonderful my Mom is, and how lucky I am to be able to call her my friend.  You on the other hand, don't deserve that honour.

Now then, is it just me or does anyone else feel like some Quaker Harvest Crunch?

Ship to Shore

In the wake of the tragedy on board the Costa Concordia, I feel the need to return to my dear blog of which I have slightly abandoned, and will take on one of my favourite roles, the devil's advocate.  While I am in no way dismissing many of the rumours that navigational error was to blame for this incident (several of us entertainers know that cruise ships are ridiculously safe, almost to a fault with all of those cameras!) we need to look at the other side of the coin, or from another perspective, that of the lowly crew member.

When you join a ship for your first time, and I will preface this by saying I had the pleasure of working for two US and one Norwegian based cruise line so every line is different, you as a crew member are put through approximately 5-7 days of safety training within 2 hours of boarding the ship.  I remember pulling myself out of bed to attend countless seminars, video sessions and personal tests teaching me about safety at sea, and how when you're out on the water, all you have is you and your fellow crew members to keep things calm and orderly.  Some of the best first aid and safety training I've received was at sea.

On all of my ships, boat drill was always held before we even left the dock in our home port, and from that first cheerful announcement by the Cruise Director informing everyone to get their life jackets and start heading to their muster stations for the 20 minute drill, all you can hear are complaints from the passengers.

"I've done a drill on another ship.  Do I have to do this again?"

"What happens if I don't go?  Can I just not go?"

"Do I have to wear my life jacket?"

"When will this be over?"

Funny thing is, 9 out of 10 passengers cannot properly place their life jacket on the first time they try, and if after the drill you were to ask a passenger what muster station they should go to in an emergency, they can't answer you.  (It's on their stateroom key, and the door of their stateroom.)   Some show up with a cigarette or an alcoholic beverage in their hand, and when you instruct them they can't have them, they lash out saying they're "on vacation" and "I paid for this cruise and this drink!"  Guess what, when the ship hits a rock and starts to tilt, the last thing you're going to worry about is your bar tab, because that too is going down with the ship.

Yes, the safety information is a dark reminder that even a luxury cruise liner is no match for a strong wind, a rogue wave or a pirate attack, (seriously, ask my friend Annabelle who cruised near Somalia.)   But the crew are well trained, and even though english may not be their strong suit, in an emergency or not, they are instructed that passengers come first, and getting them to safety is the first priority.   

A crew member can only do as they are instructed, and as they are trained.  When I worked for NCL, not only did I have to jump from deck 4 into the waters below in a life jacket, (no, the ship was not moving) we all had to put on full fire gear including respirator and enter a smoke filled room searching for "passengers" which were puzzle pieces in a room you couldn't even see your hand in front of your face.  Until we found all the pieces, we had to keep going to understand the severity of a real fire at sea.  We are all taught how to use fire extinguishers and keep a large crowd under control, launch a lifeboat and life raft, but most importantly we are told that we only do so when the abandon ship signal is sounded.  If that signal does not sound, we are to keep passengers calm (which is hard to do at the buffet when the shrimp runs low let alone during an emergency) and to follow instructions.  I couldn't stand safety training, but no matter what, I knew I was prepared in the event that alarm went off.

I am so happy to say that in almost 8 years of travel and working at sea, the only time the emergency signal sounded was during a scheduled boat drill, and one night by mistake when an officer inadvertently hit the wrong button.  (That was not a nice way to wake up.)  While we are on the ship to entertain, host, serve or clean up after passengers, we know our #1 job is to be safety leaders.  The main issue is that the passenger forgets that vital role, and I can only imagine what the situation was like on that cold Friday January 13th night in Italy with almost double the number of passengers to crew members were screaming orders at the crew.  

Yes, there wasn't a drill the night before, and yes, mistakes were clearly made, but over 4,000 lives were saved because someone must have been doing something right.  Be it a passenger or a crew member, someone decided to help put on life jackets and maintain order among chaos.

I pray the rumours are not true, that the lost are found, and those who survived really stop to look at how lucky they are.  May everyone find order among the chaos, and the ability to appreciate that so many people from so many countries around the world were able to help, save and rescue each other.