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My Life in a Nutshell
11 shifts.

50 plus hours.

One amazing time.

I don't know if I can properly re-cap my volunteer experience at the World Junior Hockey Championships except to say it was awesome.

I split my time fairly equally between the Fan Information booths and selling 50/50 tickets.  My original duties were for Fan Information, but the call went out late in the tournament that they were short 50/50 salespeople, and since I'd done the job before at the Saddledome, I jumped at the opportunity.

Especially when the pots for the 50/50 were expected to top $100,000.  That's take home.  $100,000 tax free to the winner (this is Canada... we don't pay takes on lottery winning up here... yet another reason y'all should move here).

My first couple of shifts were actually before the event officially started.  The teams were starting to arrive in Alberta in the third week of December, and were centralized to either Edmonton or Calgary by the 23rd.  My first two shifts were at one of the host hotels - and Team Slovakia was at my hotel (I can say that now that there aren't numerous puck fucks bunnies trying to track them down to spread their legs for the players... I'm dead serious.  It was embarrassing.), and they were a good group of kids - and they REALLY liked Subway.  I think they ate a combined 100 feet of subs just in the couple of days I saw them!

I worked Christmas day... mostly because I knew I wasn't going home to BC for the holidays because of the tournament, and I wanted something to do that day - but also to allow those volunteers with families the ability to stay home and enjoy the day with their loved ones.  The bonus - the hotel allowed me to indulge (for free!) their normally $100 a plate Christmas brunch.  It was mighty tasty!

My next few shifts were at the Saddledome.  During the round robin play, I volunteered at the Fan Information booth on the concourse... we answered questions... I wowed men with my knowledge of the tournament (winners, where it has/will be held - that sort of stuff)... handed out pins... watched kids puke.

Yes... throughout the tournament I watched no less than four kids barf right by me.  It's no wonder I caught the plague the day after the tournament was done and spent the better part of the day bowing to the porcelain god.

As soon as the medal round started, I pretty much focussed my attention on 50/50 ticket sales.  I worked the Sweden/Finland semi-final game, and unfortunately the system couldn't keep up with the number of people wanting to buy tickets, and we had to shut the system down when we hit about a $120,000 pot (that's $240,000 in sales).  Apparently the 50/50 coordinators weren't so happy with me carrying around $10,000 in cash myself (we didn't run into the same ticket limits as they did in Edmonton - check out Lisa's blog for her volunteer experience - so I just kept selling and selling) and I got the stink eye when I turned my money in.  I never felt unsafe, so it didn't bother me in the least but I can see their issues.  I made sure for the next games that I turned in my money regularly.

I may have used my accreditation to see the Canada/Russia game for "free" (as volunteers we weren't given tickets - or parking - and we really weren't supposed to be in the Saddledome unless we were working... oops!). I stood in the standing room only section with a couple of other volunteers, and honestly enjoyed watching that game (even though Canada lost in a heartbreaker) more than any other game I've watched live in my entire life.  The three of us went through the lows (being down 6-1) and the highs (coming back to only lose 6-5) together.  I think they gave me the best compliments ever (as a girl hockey fan sometimes they are few and far between) - I knew when to swear, when to cheer and when to jump around and hug people.  We became friends for the last couple of days... they were a good couple of (older) guys.

They finally got the 50/50 system working better for the bronze and gold medal games.  The pot for the bronze game (that Canada won!) was about $134,000 and smaller, but still ridiculously high for the gold medal game.  As you stop selling 50/50 tickets at the end of the second intermission, I was able to watch the end of both games - and they were both excellent.  The gold medal game went into overtime, with Sweden claiming the title.  For them it was kind of like a home game with all the support (Canada lost to Russia in 2011 so there were few people cheering for them) and they thanked the fans over and over at the end of the game.  I was proud for them.

I also watched a few games as a fan.  The tournament website had this buy/sell ticket feature whereby people could buy tickets from those that had tournament passes (the tournament was technically sold out in advance).  I picked up pairs of tickets to three games for less than $40 total.  Yup... that's an average of $13 a game.  And I also managed to pick up a set of tickets while I was volunteering at the booth from a guy that just couldn't make it.  For free!

The tournament did not disappoint in the least - it was top-notch hockey, and every single player wore their hearts on their jersey sleeves every single night (even if I did think I was watching the Russian diving team and not their hockey team for awhile there).  For many of the international players, this may be the highlight of their career - while many of the Canadians, Russians, and Americans will surely be at least drafted into the NHL, very few of players from Denmark, Latvia and Switzerland will ever see the big show in North America.

We had a volunteer appreciation party last night.  I don't think I've ever been thanked so much for the work that I did as I have by the people organizing this tournament.  Not only did I get a handwritten thank-you note from my coordinator, we were treated to an evening of food (although I did manage to lose my front tooth veneer eating some chicken... nothing like an emergency weekend trip to the dentist), an open bar, and numerous door prizes (even though I didn't win one).  We were able to pick up some left-over souvenir merchandise at rock-bottom prices (and I mean totally rock-bottom - all the apparel for the tournament was by Nike), and by the end of the evening they were just giving stuff away free.  We were also given a thank-you gift on the way out the door - a set of tournament coasters, an official microfibre cleaning cloth, program, and Edge Advantage band (one of those bands that is supposed to help you with your balance), a pair of tickets to either the Calgary Hitmen or Calgary Roughnecks (I chose the Roughnecks), and a bag of chips (yes... a bag of chips).

This really was the experience of a lifetime.  If you ever have the chance to volunteer for something you love and are passionate about, I highly recommend it.

The memories are forever.
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If you have been following me for the past week, you know I have been volunteering my ass off at the Canadian Men's Curling Championships - also known as the Tim Horton's Brier...

I have had a freaking amazing time (and yes, I actually like curling, so that helps). The other volunteers have been great, and really - if there were any money to be made in it I would sell 50/50 tickets for a living.

You see? I have all of the small talk down pat. You would be hard-pressed to know that I am kind of a shy person when it comes to those $2 tickets. I can sweet-talk the old men (I may be known to give out the odd hug), I can outwit the younger people, I can dazzle grandmas with my mathematical abilities, and I can talk $20 out of just about any drunk person coming from "The Patch"*.

I have been selling about $800 worth of tickets a night - which means I am contributing to a good 5-7% of revenue on average... considering there are usually 40 of us, I am doing more than my share.

Which means that I have time to focus on my other task at hand. And for that task I gave myself two choices... either make out with the guy from Team NS (since I knew dating him is totally out of the question), or get a date with a guy that I had been flirting with since day one that works at the Saddledome.

You see, volunteering for me is so much more than selling 50/50 tickets. It is about meeting people. And as cool as the rest of the volunteers are, I am young enough to be the majority of theirs granddaughter. So it isn't like I am going to be 'hanging' with these people after the event.

Well, unfortunately I didn't score with Mr. Nova Scotia (who may I say is even finer in his civvies than he is in curling gear... now that his team is out of it, when I have the fortune of seeing him in his regular clothes)... I think I managed the date.

And I almost fucked that up.

BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW MY OWN CELL PHONE NUMBER!

I must have fumbled giving him my number so many times he probably thought I was faking it and making up something. I am such a retard sometimes... I think I am going to get that baby tattooed on my freaking arm for future reference. That being said, I mean - how many times do I actually call myself?? Like never.

So, after all that... I am certain he has my number, since I have gotten a text... but unfortunately I haven't gotten a reply to the one I sent, so we will see if this actually pans out into anything.

Trust me, you all will be the first to know.

* This is the beer garden. Although if they knew I called it a beer garden they'd probably stone me with curling rocks... but basically it is an upscale beer garden - really only because it is inside and isn't surrounded by that orange fencing many people are used to.
** I am going out on a limb here and post this even though I may get in trouble... my phrase "This is a beer garden" has been picked up by the plagiarism checker... so I may get in trouble. And no, I can't quite let the accusations go yet. I am still thinking of changing my other post back to the original words. Heh.
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I have been accused of plagiarism.

Apparently my last post, in which I explain curling in my own terms, in my post-Brier-volunteering catatonic state, has ticked off someone. And now they are apparently reporting me to Google.

I am deciding to fight this, since really... is what rolls around in my head and then gets typed plagiarism?

I sure as hell don't think so.

I explained curling. I used some curling terminology, since really - there are only so many words to use. A rock is a rock, a skip is a skip... well... you get it...

And I added hot guys. Which really - makes the blog post what it is.

As one of my Twitter friends put it (and I will quote it so I don't get in trouble again - and the only reason I am doing this is because I know this person has a public Twitter profile - and I am not even naming the person either, and I wouldn't ever do this if someone was private)...
@carmenincalgary That girl is nuts. That's like saying explaining baseball ='they run around the bases' is plagiarizing. MJ = dumb
Exactly!

And to top it all off, when I put my entire blog post into one of the many plagiarizing software programs available online... you know who I am plagiarizing?

MYSELF!

That of course means that only my blog post is listed...

With one exception (well... two - my other reference to red rocks came up with a match to Leonard Cohen - which I can assure you has nothing to do with the red rocks I am talking about). We both called curling a gentlemanly (actually, she calls it gentleman's game... but we both use the words "curling is a very" - which I am sure nobody else in the history of talking about/writing about curling has ever used those exact four words in succession before... yeah, right...) sport. Seriously... that constitutes plagiarism? Well, then according to my search, she also plagiarized (according to the 2000 article written by the Granite Curling club)... here is the result from Google Advanced (from articlechecker.com) search when I put my ENTIRE blog post in the search engine...And here is the search when I type in "curling gentlemanly game" into Google... over 26,700 results - honestly... I am not the first person to use the phrase, and neither was she!Needless to say, I have told her to go ahead and report me to Google all she wants. I will fight this one!

I made it through FIVE years of University without ever plagiarizing... does someone seriously think that I would start now on a blog post about curling?

PS... I am going to turn on comment moderation for a bit in case my accuser shows up... I'll turn it off in a couple of days when I am not so freaking pissed off.
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Sorry about the curling post people, but seriously - other than work that is what I will be doing for a week. Here is my weekend recap...

- I have sold more 50/50 tickets than anyone else. And unlike when selling tickets for the Calgary Flames, we are encouraged to stay and watch. Take that Flames! Fire code my ass.
- Curling fans wear dumb hats. There were three boys with moose antlers yesterday... I think they were cheering for Newfoundland/Labrador. There are curling sponge hats (imagine the cheese heads of Green Bay - but with curling rocks). There are a number of yellow rain hats, and Scottish tartan hats with pom poms on the top (I thought that was a golfing thing???).
- Curling fans have dumb cheers. Like "Onnnnttttaaaariiiooooo" and "Allllbbeeerrtttaaa". Boring!
- There is one old man that is cheering for Ontario that runs around with a flag (ala the Stampeder on a horse at the Stamps CFL games). This man is probably going to have a heart attack or give himself a hernia running up and down the stairs because he is damn old. But people love him.
- I talked strategy with the Northern Ontario fifth today. He is cute, and caught on very quickly that everything I know about curling I learned from Vic, Ray and Linda (the TSN commentators). He appeased me anyways and talked to me for a couple of ends.
- I am pretty sure that one of the Team Nova Scotia boys is hot on me. How do I know this you may ask? Well, it is the kindergarten test - every time I look at him he just about gives himself whiplash looking the other way. Today I got a smile out of him.
- I also got a smile from Russ Howard, the skip from team New Brunswick, and 2006 Olympic gold medalist. If he weren't so old I would have swooned. Okay... maybe I swooned anyways. Because I am a curling geek.
- I am still in love with John Morris from Team Alberta. He is hot.
- Curlers are abnormally flexible. Take an NHL goalies flexibility and multiply it by... lots. One guy from Team Ontario had his foot behind his head. I thought only hookers could stretch like that.
- I have been on TSN more times than I can count (including the time I was putting on chapstick - oh so very sexy) in the past two days. I hate though that my hair looks red. Or at least it does on the jumbo tron at the arena. I hope it looks blonde on regular TV because I pay a lot of money for blonde hair.
- I think I have a date at the end of the Brier. Seems that one of the guys that works in the Club seats has taken a liking to me. Who woulda thought? This volunteering thing seems to work for me.

I am now going to have a hot bath, since my legs feel like jello after walking the stairs of the Saddledome a bazillion times this weekend. Only seven days of stairs to go. Bring on the buns of steel!
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The Canuck's Prayer*

Our Father, who art in GM Place
Hockey be thy name.
Thy will be done, the cup be won
On ice, as well as in the stands.
Give us this day, our hockey sticks,
And forgive us our penalties,
As we forgive those who cross-check against us,
Lead us not into elimination,
But deliver us to victory.
In the name of the fans, Lord Stanley,
In the name of the Canuck's

Amen

* Stolen from a friends Facebook wall...
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Dear Magnus Svensson Pääjärvi,

Remember when you said something along the lines of "If we [Sweden] face them [Canada] in the final again, we will beat them." (or maybe you said those exact words)?

Well... take this...Yeah... that would be us* with gold medals around our necks...

Eat them apples.

*I am totally allowed to say "us" since hockey is Canada's game and all... even if I played little or no part in the actual winning of the GOLD MEDAL!
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Ben over at No Ordinary Rollercoaster has put up a challenge to share with the world our worst drinking stories... now... growing up in Canada we are blessed with a lower-than-USA drinking age, meaning that I am pretty sure that it is a given that we Canadians have a shorter time in which to engage in what can be known as a good drinking story (you know... the ones that basically happen because you are using fake ID and you may just never get back into the bars again so you drink until you can drink no more, and then drink again)...

Here is my story (and yes... for some reason when I say that I have the voice of the guy who speaks at the beginning of Law and Order episode in my head, complete with the 'duh, duh' at the end)... and yes... there is a picture at the end.

It was the Winter of 1996... my older (of-age) roommate came home from Christmas with her sisters expired out-of-province ID for me to use... only a few problems - the least of which was that the license had expired. She was 5'1"... I am 5'11". She had short dyed blonde hair... mine is long - and I am a natural blonde. She was wearing giant hoop earrings... I wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything like that... but I digress.

I spent many a night practicing her signature, memorizing her zodiac sign and reciting her address (down to the postal code) in case I ever got questioned by a bouncer. I probably spent more time studying that ID than I did studying for midterms...

Then came The Night. The night that we were going to try this ID out. Until then, my drunken experiences came in university residence... pub crawls, yukaflux... it was all good. But now I was venturing into the unknown... the actual bar.

We pile in my car (I drove down, and smartly handed over my keys as soon as we had parked) and head into the bar. We stand in line for an extraordinarily long period of time, all the while I was freaking out that the bouncer would call the cops after one look at my ID and I would be dragged away in handcuffs...

We get to the front of the line, and I pull out my ID... she glances at it, glances at me... then takes my $3.00 and stamps me on the hand.

I. Am. In.

Let the drunken debauchery begin.

Now... if only I could really remember the evening. I remember up to ordering what I think must have been my last drink (a triple rum and Coke... remember... I may never get in to the bar again until my 19th birthday!)... and the rest is only re-capped to me from my friends. Here are some of the stories they tell me...

I threw up. On the dance floor. Well actually... on my friend Phil who was standing on the dance floor. Apparently I had good enough aim only to hit Phil and not the actual floor itself.

I couldn't/wouldn't get out of my car upon my return to campus. My friends learned after trying to haul my sorry ass out of the backseat of my car for 10 minutes that my garbled ramblings were actually me saying "my seat belt is still on"... but not until they almost dislocated my shoulder trying to extricate me.

After laying in the parking lot for awhile, unable to move myself and unwilling to let my friends help, two security guards dragged me to my room... one had both hands and one both feet. I can only imagine the classiness of this event.

After getting to my room my wonderful roommates gave the guys across the hall a tube of lipstick, with which they started writing all over me. They also took this opportunity to climb in bed with me and take pictures of this whole event. Thankfully my clothes remained on.

That is all they tell me happened... I mean really - how long can you continue to have fun drawing on a drunk and passed out girl in her dorm room?

The next morning I felt what I can only describe as the human equivalent to a Booster Juice blender without a lid on. And by that I puked with every move, at every smell and even the thought of food.
For over 24 hours.

In the end... I am most thankful that I went to university before the advent of the digital camera because to my knowledge I have the only hard copies of the pictures taken that night. I also have the negatives.

And... I had to buy Phil a new shirt... 'cause he left my barf-soaked one in his bathroom sink for two days festering and the puke smell never could or did get washed out.

And without further ado... proof of drunkenness, lipstick and the fact that my friends don't know how to spell. I am taking a page out of SO @ 24's book with the bar over my face... quite catchy don't you think? And I think I did pretty good with the picture considering I had to take a picture of it with my digital camera...
I would like to thank Ben for allowing me to relive my youth... and don't be a Jonze.
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Or not to remember... seven years ago today I watched in disbelief as the events of 9/11 unfolded on the news... I stood in the hallways at work trying to figure out what was going on... I distinctly remember watching the second plane hit the World Trade Centre and then the towers collapsing.

Today I reflect upon what has happened in the seven years since. I do not agree with the war being fought in the Middle East right now, but I do support the troops that are over there... as Canadians we are now at 97 lives lost in Afganistan and I hate for that number to reach 100.

As a tribute to the Canadians that perished in the 9/11 terrorist attacks, please take a look at this, and remember that those people were someones mother, father, brother, sister and child... Canadians may only make up a small percentage of the 2974 lives lost, but they should never be forgotten.
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About me

40-something. curmudgeon. thornback. tea drinker. hockey fanatic. introvert. world traveller. triple citizen. proud Canadian. mini donut connoisseur. Canucks fan. taller than average. #1 Trevor Linden fan.

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