My Bro in Flames!

After the big fuss I've been making, it's only fair to post some photos, dontcha think?





Well my little letter made it into the Terrace Daily and Merv kindly pointed me to their video footage of the relay! Wooohooo! (CTV's is still not up). So not only did we get some great photos courtesy of my bro's wife and his friends, but some video too!

Oh and in addition to LostinTranslation pointing me to some coverage, a stranger offered to send me his coverage of the event. Man, I love the Internet.

Dear CTV...Hope you enjoyed your lunch in Terrace!

Dear CTV (Canadian Television),
My very large family spread out all over the world and myself were so excited to watch my brother carry the Olympic torch through Terrace, British Columbia today. You can imagine how proud we all were. In fact, see my earlier post on the subject. We were even more excited that you have a "Live website feed" for all of us relatives and friends to watch this special moment from so far away.

We've been counting down the days, sharing emails, tweets, FB messages, etc...all waiting anxiously for the moment when my brother would carry the torch those 300 meters.

We all logged onto the site well in advance, watching the truck make its way into Terrace and getting used to the on and off again camera, sure that once it made its way into town, you'd get set up and we'd be off to the races. We were on Skype together, calling each other by phone, Facebooking, Tweeting, etc.

And then at 4:37pm EST, you tell us via your Twitter feed that you're breaking for lunch and the feed will return shortly. Actually first you told us you were entering some local community celebration and the camera, which is mounted to the truck, wouldn't be "on". How long is lunch? Define shortly. Some of us are also waiting to eat and others in EUROPE are waiting for bed. You quite obviously have the technology, it's just the communication that seems to be lacking.

Not a word. For almost two hours we waited. Noone knows if people are running while the camera crew is breaking or if EVERYONE is off for lunch. The emails, the calls, the FB/Tweets, etc. Everyone wondering and waiting. But there does seem to be one little piece of technology functional on your site. The little running man is indeed moving. Our hearts collectively sank as the reality set in: Looks like they might be running after all.

But no word from you. Not a peep. A stranger on the Facebook feed finally gives up in frustration and calls you to find out that there was some problem and apparently you'll be showing the missing runners at 4pm. Much later you've obviously finished what must have been a delicious, 5-course lunch and decide to tell us all that "Unfortunately, due to complications with the power source on Media 1, there will be no more coverage of the Relay for the rest of Day 95."

I think my husband said it best really, "In this age of communication, it's unfortunate that we can't get word to those waiting... I feel like I'm at the airport."

And yes, I've seen that YouTube video with the guy who remarks rather hilariously that we're all so spoiled and ungrateful with modern technology. This is not about that. This is about basic communication. Tell people what's going on! I managed to update my FB status second by second. And you mean to tell me noone in the whole of CTV couldn't update ANYTHING for almost 2 whole hours?

Guess noone's brother/sister/mother/father/aunt/uncle/cousin/co-worker/butcher/baker/candle stick maker at CTV was running today.

My Bro the Olympic Torch Bearer

My little brother, ok, he's not so little..29 to be exact, was chosen to carry the Olympic Torch in his current hometown of Terrace, British Columbia.

Terrace is far, far north...about a 3 hour drive from Alaska. My bro and his bride moved there around the same time hubby and I moved to Montenegro. We are ridiculously far away from each other. Luckily, bro has made countless efforts over the years to surprise me while I'm home in Nova Scotia visiting the folks.

My bro is great. He is almost the polar opposite of me. Me: Chaotic, loud, ADHD, hotel guest. Him: Calm, reserved, anal about organization, winter camper. But man I love him. He has two jobs. One with the federal government as a probation office and the other as a volunteer firefighter. I don't know how he does it, dealing with the scum of the earth on a daily basis and saving lives on his down time. He's my hero.

So it was no surprise that he was nominated by both workplaces to be an Olympic torch bearer. See, different communities have different rules concerning how one receives the honour of carrying the flame. In his, you have to be nominated. And he was.

Tomorrow, February 1st at 1:50pm PST, my little brother will run a few miles all aglow. And his big sister, 9 hours ahead, will be glowing too.

Murphy's Law

or whatever that law is that says shit happens when there's already a shitload of other shit waiting to be flushed. Sorry, that was an early morning, 1/4 cup coffee attempt at a witty analogy.

Before I begin today's rant, check out my very first guest post over at Hyacynth's. Feeling all humbled and honoured and such.

Rushed home from Swedish lessons, started wolfing down some lunch meat, shared a few half sentences with the hubby, phone rang and got invited out to lunch by my only Swedish friend's sister (this was kind of a big deal but I couldn't go because I had a bellyful of lunch meat so we decided on tomorrow). Did I mention I work from home and that I was all pumped up to hit my to-do list hard. I hung up the phone. Ran over to the ringing house phone while giggling at how popular I had suddenly become. It was the call I had expected.

"Hi. It's Carin from the school. Joseph is not feeling very well. He seems to have a pretty bad cold. His nose is running and his eyes are very watery. I think it's best if you come pick him up before we go outside...blah, blah, blah".

Yes, I had wiped his nose a few times that morning on our rush out the door. But I reasoned, we're only supposed to keep them home if they have a fever. No fever. All clear.

Dang it. Funny how I feel perfectly comfortable using the word "shit" in a blog post but am extremely uncomfortable using the word "damn". Anyhoo, picked up my little booger and spent the afternoon wiping on command. "Mummy, my nose. Mummy my eyes." Repeat.

So my to-do list is expanding and I have a sick boy at home. But here's the rainbow: He's such a happy flem-filled booger. With the exception of leaking body fluids, nothing seems to stop my little man from smiling and carrying on with his day. God love him. I know I sure do. Now excuse me while I pop some Vitamin C and immerse my hands in sanitizer. I see a very miserable and sick Mommy in my future.

So.Much.To.Do

But instead, here I am venting about how much I have to do instead of well, actually doing something about it, like DOING.IT. Oh and I'm also waiting for the latest episode of Jersey Shore to download. Don't even bother. Guilty pleasure. Nuf divulged.

- We're moving in less than a month. I have nothing packed.
- Our son needs his Visa renewed. I've gotten as far as filling out the application.
- My passport expires in March. Guess.
- I have a website to write.
- I have Swedish lessons tomorrow morning. I should be studying.
- There's this check type thing that came in the mail. I need to get to the bank to figure out how to deposit it. Gotta get on that.
- I need a Swedish driver's license. You would NOT believe the hoops you have to go through to get one: written test, classes, some crazy ass obstacle course in the snow type thing, driving test, eye test, and a shitload of money. All because you can only use the one from your own country for a year. I think I'll drive illegally.
- Car needs servicing. Damn service light has been on since November.
- Some other appt. with the car that needs rescheduling.
- Gotta call to find out if boy has swimming lessons tomorrow of if they start up again next week.
- General cleaning of the house.
- Gotta call the current tenant of the new house to find out when we can move in.
- Boxes. Need boxes.
I am the worst procrastinator like ever. Ok, I'm sure there are worse and I have gotten better with age but still. When it all piles up like this, I can't see the forest through the trees. Will someone, preferably with like 5 kids, a husband and two dogs, take pity on me and provide me with some ingenious system that will ensure I get this stuff checked off? Or at least hold the virtual paper bag while I breathe deeply and hold my head between my legs? Oh and try NOT to suggest getting my husband to help, m k?
Oh, Jersey Shore is 94.5% complete. Gotta run and get THAT done. I'm laughing but not really...

And the award goes to....

ME! Yup, got my first blog award today. And you're thinking..."uh, yeah, so?" And I'm thinking, I won something! I can't even remember what it's called I'm so delirious with excitement. And now with all the publicity sure to come out of this (interviews, calls from Perez Hilton for blogging tips, the Ellen Show) , I'm freaking out because, well, my blog sucks. I mean, I don't have a cool design, I write about no one subject in particular and I'm so unpredictable with the type and frequency of my posts.

Dang...I'm certainly no MckMama (Queen of the Mommy Bloggers) or Hairy Swede (my personal favourite expat in Sweden blog).

The song "Under Pressure" by Queen is playing as background music in my head now. Or maybe it's the version with Vanilla Ice and those twins, Jedward?, from Britain's Got Talent or X-Factor or some show with Simon Cowell.

While I try to figure out where to go from here, here's a copy of my acceptance speech, which can be found in its original form on September Mom's blog, My Voice My View (the bestower of the honour):

This is my very first ever blog award. I'm so humbled and so unprepared. "You like me. You REALLY like me!" Ok, here goes..off the cuff:
I would like to thank:
- God and Jesus, because well, those are the first guys you thank when you win awards.
- My darling husband, who cleaned the garbage out of the car this morning when I asked him to.
- My deliciously beautiful 3-year old son, who has so much joie de vivre in his compact littleness and gives me so many reasons to smile everyday.
- The blogosphere: I discovered you not that long ago and I thank you for sharing your lives and inspiring mine.
- My extremely small group of blog followers, or perhaps I should term you, "Tight Knit". Thanks for putting up with the ADHD that is my "blog".
- September Mom for graciously bestowing this award upon undeserving me, for commenting on my blog and for her the posts that keep me coming back for more.
Cue music...

The Sorel Boot Saga Continued...

You might recall my last post on the horribly blistered feet I got as a direct result of buying a cool-looking pair of winter boots back in Canada.

Well, dear blog readers, all 5 of you: Within 24 hours of my rant in the blogosphere, a PR rep from Sorel commented on my post. In addition to asking me not to burn the boots, she offered to help me find a solution to my boot problem.

Now I'm in PR, have been for all of my adult life. And I'll tell you: This here is some good PR. She then proceeded to send me an email apologizing on behalf of her team for me sore feet and asked me to take a photo of the boot culprits. Before I had a chance to figure out how to hook my camera up to my computer and all that jazz, I received another email from a rep at Columbia, whom I assume owns the Sorel brand.

She asked me to jot down all the info on my boots and offered to send me a new pair! Stop. I do NOT want a new pair. I have tried, in vain, to befriend these boots but we just can't seem to get along. So instead, I have asked for a gift certificate of some form so that I may continue to patronage their fine brand but with a set of boots that adore me and my big ole feet.

I even figured out my new scanner (whose software is all in Swedish thank you very much) and sent her a receipt. This may seem like "whatever" to you all, but I am not one of these award-winning Mommy bloggers with thousands of followers so the fact that all this fuss is being made over little ole' me and my big ole' feet, well this is monumental and deserves a worthy enough post. We bitch and moan about bad customer service all the time (human nature) so when we get treated like royalty, we need to shout it from the rooftops. It's only fair.

I will keep you posted on the resolution. In the meantime, I gotta stop wearing my rain boots and get my tired feet into a store. Thank you Sorel and thank you Columbia for listening to a lonely customer in Sweden.