Momma Froc: Do you remember when you made me breakfast in bed for Mother's Day one year when you were little?
Me: Not really....
Momma Froc: You were about nine, and you made me an omelette and brought it in to my room and announced, "I made you an omelette! I even burnt it a little on the outside just like you do!" Hahahahahahahahaha
Me: ...I want to go back and hug the younger me.

So... whoever hangs out with me on a regular basis will know I have a thing with "adventures".

Growing up, while all the other little girls were watching Lizzie McGuire and other preteen garbage, I was watching Indiana Jones and The Mask of Zorro. I've wanted to go to India since I was five. I paid particularly close attention in Social Studies during the maps units so that on the off chance Momma Froc accepted piracy as a reliable career choice, I'd be good to go. (Little Chantelle = adventure hungry.)
Eventually, it dawned on me that my life was not going to be like a storybook. And it didn't help that I moved away from the city to a little town. Yep. I was hopelessly destined for a life of boredom and mediocrity. Insert big sigh here. (Teenage Chantelle = dramatic.)

Enter University year.

I keep in touch with one of my youth leaders from back home. We're basically BFFs. No big. Anyways, whenever I called or emailed her, and told her about my horribly normal life, she would respond with "Oh Chantelle.... What an adventure!".  For the longest time, I thought she was crazy. My life was the farthest thing from exciting. But I kept hearing her in my head saying "What an adventure!".  So I decided back in the fall that I was going to have fun this year. You only get one life after all. Might as well make the most of it. That, my friends, is why I call everything an adventure, even if I'm just going to get groceries. It makes life more fun.

I might not ever go to India. I might not ever sing in front of thousands of people on some massive stage. It's highly unlikely that I'll become a pirate or Zorro (I don't do horses). But then again, maybe I will. This is my life and I can do whatever I like with it! Y'know, because I'm a big grown-up adult and stuff. Ha.

Dear Chantelle,

Right now your life seems pretty unbearable. I know that you feel like things will stay this way forever. I know how hard it is to get up in the morning and go to school sometimes. I know that you are disappointed that Mom and Dad have stopped coming to check on you at night because you've cried yourself to sleep so many times that now it's become commonplace. Right now, you don't think anyone loves you. You feel uncomfortable wherever you go. You have no idea what your life will be like in highschool, or even next year, and that scares you.

I have news. You survive this year. It is so, so hard, but you do. You may think that this year will ruin your life, but actually, it blesses it. You will learn and grow in so many ways. This year will suck, but it gives you something pretty awesome in return- empathy and compassion. In time, you'll be able to use what's happening to you right now to help other people.

There's something else I should tell you. You know how sometimes you sit in your room alone, and you imagine that your life is like those movies where the main character has lots of friends and they hang out and borrow clothes and have parties all the time? It will take a lot of waiting, but you are going to have that. You will get hurt too, but you'll make friends that will stay with you for a long time. You are going to meet some of the most incredible people in the next few years. I promise. And, you're going to learn that people love you. You're going to learn that not everyone is like the kids you go to school with now. You will learn to trust again. You're going to become a person that people like to be around, although it will take awhile for you to believe that.

Everything works out in the end. Believe me. Hang in there!
Love, Chantelle

P.S. You should probs learn to sew. It might come in handy with avoiding a certain pajama pants disaster in your ninth grade Home Ec class.

Today I decided that I was a strange child. Let's examine the evidence:

-When I was six years old, my favourite toy was this cat. Not a stuffed cat. It was a plastic lawn ornament. Serious. His name was Scatters. He had green eyes.
-I used to wake up REALLY early to watch cartoons. What? That's normal? Well, I would only tolerate the cartoons because after cartoons came the Adaams Family, and I was OBSESSED with Wednesday Adaams. She was basically the shiz. Her booby-traps were genius, and I may have modelled some of my "Evil Babysitter Booby-traps" after hers...
-My dad used to have this huge rice jar in his closet full of pennies. One day I stole it, and we dumped ALL the pennies in the sandbox outside and buried them and then ran the garden hose over it. Why? We wanted to dig for "Underwater Buried Treasure". Duh.
-I once lost my skipping rope, so I made one out of bread bags.
-I'm pretty sure there was one summer where I wore my homemade toga everyday. That was during my Ancient Egypt phase.
-When I was nine, I directed a small play about two babies that we made up at recess for our teacher's birthday. Complete with music and props. We performed it in class instead of doing math.
-One day my mum came home and I had constructed a geodesic dome out of newspaper in my livingroom.
-I learned to forge my little brother's writing perfectly, so if he ever made me mad, I would just write on the walls and say it was him. Worked every time. (Sorry Logan.)


No wonder my parents were worried....  haha.

Someone suggested I switch to a math major today. I shuddered with disgust. I'm pretty competent at math. I mean, I never failed at it or anything in school. But math word problems always irritated me. ALWAYS.