The World Must Hate Me

Woohoo! Now that I am finally back at rez I can continue to post pictures of my adorable face and my adorable life (because I know you all missed them!)

But first, a story, before I get to the picture.

I hate Air Canada. I was actually going to make a blog entry about how much I hate Air Canada, but I decided that they are not that special and do not deserve THAT much blog room. But they have, every time I can conciously remember flying with them, lost my luggage. When I went to France (Edmonton to Montreal to Paris) they left my luggage in Montreal for a few days. On my way from Toronto to Saint John going home this holiday they left my luggage in Toronto and I eventually had to go the airport and track it down because they didn't deliver it when they said they would. Coming home (Saint John to Montreal to Toronto) guess what happened? THEY LEFT MY BLOODY LUGGAGE IN MONTREAL! Every other freakin' airline I've been on can get my luggage to me, transfer or not. WHAT THE FRIG IS AIR CANADA'S PROBLEM?!?!?! And other airlines actually treat their customers with dignity and respect, and feed them. Even on a WestJet flight from Edmonton to Calgary (grand total = 30 minutes) they throw you a pack of cookies and a juice. On the flight from Toronto to Saint John you had to pay if you wanted anything to eat or drink. This is just wrong. Plus every Air Canada employee I have ever encountered either does not have enough time for you, or just should have not gotten out of bed because they are lazy and rude. I had to make transfer and they wouldn't tell me where to connect...they just pointed in the general direction I was to walk in. The lady at the counter (when I did find my gate) kept snapping at everyone who went to ask her a question, and got to a point where she was yelling at customers to leave her alone. This is not good customer service. This actually isn't customer service. This is Air Canada being a lousy company.

Well, I finally got back to rez, and I have my luggage. At least the ordeal is over.

They (although I'm not totally certain who 'they' is) say that you learn something new every day. I have learned not to use my mini fridge as a footstool any longer.

The first time I did this I bumped some juice that was sitting on it all over my bed and had to wash the sheets before I went to sleep, so I didn't get to bed until like 2:00 A.M. Another time I slipped and fell. The last time I ever used it has a much more interesting story. Here is where the picture comes into play.

All I can say is "Thank God for the wonders of makeup." Here I look happy and injury free. My fridge is directly behind me in this pic. Check out what I have on the wall RIGHT beside my face (my left eye, the one to your right.) Not the Ocean's Twelve poster (as lovely as it is)...the speaker. I didn't have the speaker up, but the little thing that holds it up was in place. Needless to say as I crawled onto the fridge and stood up, my face met the speaker thingy. It hit me in the eye and gashed my forehead, leaving an incredibly attractive RED scratch. Sometimes I think it doesn't pay to even wake up in the morning (I had such a good sleep last night, I wish I hadn't gotten up!) Oh well.

C'est la vie!