My little lost makeup bag has been found, and the world is a slightly happier place. I, at least, am very relieved! I hate not having essential equipment like that, and I hate feeling unprepared. Turns out that I did leave it at my friend's house in TC (now why did I do that?), and she will mail it to San Diego for me. I will meet it there on Wednesday, then we will vacation together for 10 blissful days.
This evening I completed my last synchro practice in Michigan. (Last this year, and possibly last ever!) We were supposed to have practice a tomorrow also, but since we did well today, our coach gave us the evening off. We'll have three practices in SD before we compete Saturday, and she doesn't want us to burn out. Now we have an extra evening to pack and get ready. This is good, because I have a lot I still need to accomplish!
I'm leaving in three days. eeeee! (excited squeal)
I went to Sarnia last night for a birthday party. I bought the birthday boy a nice bonsai tree, without even thinking about my need to cross the border. It wasn't until I was approaching the bridge that it occurred to me: bringing a living plant into Canada might be frowned upon. So I hoped the matter wouldn't come up, or that I could gloss over the truth if necessary.
The border guard asked me where I was going, and I said I was attending a party at a friend's house. Then he asked me, "Are you bringing any gifts, alcohol, or firearms with you?" Gifts, he asked! Why did he ask that? That's not common. Why did he have to specifically ask if I had any gifts?? I hate to lie, and I (almost) never do. I do not have a problem with misdirecting the truth when the situation calls for it, but I don't lie.
But this was a special case. I had a birthday gift to deliver. I had a little tree to smuggle. I met his eyes calmly and said, "No." This was no half-truth, it was an outright lie. I felt a little badly about it. He waved me on through.
The trip out of the foreign land was easier. I told the guard I'd been at a friend's house for the evening, and he asked me cheerfully, "So what are you bringing back from Canada?"
I reached into my cupholder and lifted up my half-finished can of pop. His eyes followed my hand with interest as I said grandly, "Just this diet coke!"
He laughed. "No alcohol or firearms?" I shook my head, we wished one another pleasant evenings, and off I went.