Thursday, December 15, 2016


I scheduled a magazine interview for 10:30 Wednesday morning, which was a ridiculous thing to do because we flew in from Texas on Tuesday night, landed at 10 something, got home around 11. Spent a full 90 minutes Googling - or trying unsuccessfully to Google - something. Slept in, didn't remember I even had an interview until 10. Freaked out.

But then, at 10:30, I remembered the person I was going to be interviewing lives in Denver - so the interview was actually at 11:30, my time. Bless that Daylight Savings thing everyone else does. And bless Saskatchewan for not doing it.

So anyway, that worked out. I had a little spare time to actually get prepared. Important. Phew. Sometimes I think to myself, "Who's in charge of scheduling around here?" And then I remember it's me. And that most other grown-ups actually have much more intense schedules than me and I'm just a wuss. And not great at time management. 

Example: my deadline for turning in that interview is today...and I'm here blogging about the interview instead of actually writing it up and sending it off. 

What to do about that...


So the one person here who isn't on Instagram (you know who you are, don't you?), is like, wait, Texas? But you were in Nevada on Friday? 

I mean, maybe you're not. But this is my blog, my supremely detailed account of my riveting life, so I'll explain the whole thing to you anyway. 

Vegas was a work trip, which Sullivan and I tagged along on. It didn't really count as a family vacation because Barclay was in a classroom the whole time. It was more of a mother/son vacation (which was a blast and is, absolutely, something I'm super grateful to have had). 

Because Barclay's conference ended on a Thursday, and his boss flew home on Friday, we figured we'd just stay an extra couple of days and fly home on Sunday. Then we'd have had a little family vacation for super cheap, and Barclay wouldn't even have to take a single day off work. 

But then, I found out that flying to Austin, TX from Vegas is a quick and painless thing to do, and can be as cheap as $60 a ticket. And I found a seat sale home from Austin, which made it about the same price to fly to Austin for a few days and then go home from there as it would've been to just hang out for the rest of the week in Vegas - which, to be honest, is a draining city to be in for any extended length of time (as a tourist, anyway). And I've always wanted to go to Austin - it's the Live Music Capital of the World, after all. They have concerts in the airport there. And I'd heard all about their killer food truck scene - barbecue! Tacos! Fried chicken! And the town motto is Keep Austin Weird. 

What part of this doesn't sound like my natural habitat?

So it felt like a no-brainer. And Barclay's boss, the ever-benevolent guy that he is, was like, "It's the slow season. You have vacation time. Take Monday and Tuesday off." 

Twist my rubber arm. 

Anyway. On Friday morning Barclay, Sullivan and I took one last trip down the strip to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe (because you have to if it's an option) (this was, by the way, Sullivan's favourite dining experience to date. They gave him a music-themed sticker/colouring book to play with while he waited for his food, which was a stack of blueberry pancakes delivered on a plate shaped like a guitar. He grinned at it for a full three minutes before taking a single bite). 

Then, happy and stuffed, we hopped on a plane to the city self-described as "Willie Weird" (because Willie Nelson).

We knew we'd made the right decision when we walked off the plane and a cowboy asked us where we were from and I said Canada and he said why the heck are you here and I said for fun and he guffawed and said, "There's nothin about Austin!" like we were crazy. 

I gave a big sigh of relief when he said that. I wanted, very desperately, to be somewhere that had nothing about it. It was like the neon lights of Vegas had sunburned my soul and Austin was the gentle, soothing leaves of an aloe vera plant. 

I hope you pictured me saying that with my eyes half closed and a serene smile on my face. 

And then we made friends with a super sweet woman named Melissa, who came over to talk to us because Barclay was wearing his Blue Jays hat (her son is Ryan Goins, of said baseball team). Barclay felt like that was his sign that we'd chosen the right city, and then we strolled through the airport hand-in-hand and ate at the first taco stand we found. 

Of course, of course, I'll be back to bombard you with pictures of Austin - which does actually have a lot "about it," it's just a bit more chill about what's about it.

But for now, I have a thing I gotta go write. Happy...whatever day it is. I actually don't know.