may or may-not monday

A few more pictures from the Canada weekend.  Outfit to come tomorrow.... husband might have taken the computer that attaches to my camera.  But that is okay.  It is his computer after all.

top L-->R: steam clock + our hostel.
bottom L-->R: the Cambie coffee shop + free breakfast and coffee every morning.
I can't wait to show you all the sweater and shoes I found for an extremeeee deal this weekend in BC.  Seriously.

May or may-not Monday.... where you can divulge in life's mishaps without feeling like a failure.

I may or may-not be the worst traveller of all time.  I get so anxious to be away from home, so anxious to not be doing my homework every minute of every day, and so anxious that I am going to be anxious (what the heck. seriously) that I am literally just quiet and uptight the whole time we drive anywhere.  Worrying about worrying.  So. Dumb.  
And of course I am just a bundle of bubbly on the way home.  Giddier than all giddup.  My husband says to me, "Whenever you're in a bad mood I'm just going to drive you somewhere like we're going on a trip, and then turn around and start driving home to make you happy."  That's how bad it is.

I may or may-not have worn my Danskos to every bar we went to in Canada.  Pretty sure I was the only girl in the country who was wearing Danskos at a club that night, judging by the plethora of uncomfortably mini mini-skirts that we saw, accompanied by just as uncomfortable high heels.  Those girls.  What are they thinking?

I may or may-not have NOT done my reading for a class I had today..... dun dun dun.  Not telling which one because I don't want to get in trouble.  But it was a pretty good feeling.  

I may or may-not have accidentally stolen Tara's free-breakfast card one morning.  It was in my shoe.  How was I supposed to know?  I only found out once I started trying things on at H&M Canada.  Breakfast was long gone at that point.

I may or may-not have had the two sweetest old men come in to Govcup today while I was working and go on and on about how great my glasses were.  I was thoroughly ashamed to tell them that they were fake, and that I bought them for $3.50 at a clothing store.  They were amazed.  One proceeded to explain that my glasses are of a particular style called "Stanley", and that he has to order his from somewhere in Europe.  Who woulda thunk!

Happy Monday to you all!
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