With a sigh of relief, I fully completed all my Christmas shopping last night. I even wrapped some presents. I was feeling a slight weight lifted from my shoulders as I started thinking about lounging in my parents hot tub and drinking copious amounts of red wine.
But then, my mom suddenly decides that she'd like me to "pick up a few things in the city" before I come home. Fabulous. Out to brave the masses once again. And it's not just regular items she wants. She decides today, five days before Christmas, that she'd like a marine barometer. Whaaaaat?
Since my parents bought their boat in the summer, they've decided to join marine life in full force, buying every boating accessory they can find. Although they claim they aren't quite snotty enough yet to join the yacht club.
So my hunt for a marine barometer begins with a quick search for "marine" and "boating" in the Yellow Pages. I called a couple stores but they didn't have one. On my third attempt I reached a store in Cambridge that claimed he could have one for me by the end of the week if I talked to his receptionist. They were "moving" he said and it was noisy. So my conversation with the oh so intelligent receptionist goes like this:
Me: "Hi. I was told to give you my contact information so you could order me a marine barometer."
Receptionist: "What's a marine barometer?"
Me: "Uh... I'm not sure actually. My mom wants one for their boat."
Receptionist: "Oh, is it like a regualar barometer?"
Me: "I really don't know." (Shouldn't YOU know? You're the marine store!)
She takes my contact info, spelling my name MEranda. I don't bother correcting her. She has no idea how much this item costs nor when it might be in. The conversation continues as such:
Me: "Okay, so where is your store located?"
Receptionist: "I'm not sure exactly. In Cambridge I think."
Me: "Uh... can you give me directions?"
Receptionist: "I'll have someone call you back." (Seriously, how does this woman not know where she works??)
Me: "Alright. So I want to come pick it up on Saturday morning. Are you open on Saturdays?"
Receptionist: "Uh... I'm actually not sure."
Me: "Right." (At this point, I'm seriously contemplating hanging up but the receptionist beats me to the punch)
Receptionist: "Thanks a lot for calling. Buh-bye!"
Seriously, wtf. Some help she was.
I wouldn't get your hopes up for a barometer under the tree this year.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
So...
I've apparently become entirely delinquent at updating this blog. I think it's because the only things I've been thinking about lately are angst-ridden uncertainty and anxiety about my future. However, I think things have figured themselves out and I can probably chill.
I got a new job. My dream job in fact. Perhaps not with my dream company but it's the job. An investment in "the future Miranda" as Graham says. I am the new Media Relations Specialist for Nortel and aside from the 45% pay increase, I'm totally thrilled to be heading to Toronto and starting my REAL career. It is refreshing to know I'll have a career, not just some job I work at for the pay cheque. Money only sustains you for so long.
I also found an apartment AND a roommate which is exciting :) It'll be strange to go from a two bedroom apartment all my own to one room in a place that isn't mine at all...but it will be a nice change. I'm looking forward to moving. I'm looking forward to purging all my old stuff and clutter and starting over somewhere new.
I've been looking back over 2006 and thinking smugly about how fabulous it was. I knew on New Year's Eve 2005 that '06 was gonna be a great year. I said it over and over... I remember. I was like my new years mantra. And I'm not sure if it was merely the power of suggestion, but 2006 was pretty much the best year of my life.
With all the change coming up in early 2007, I'm excited to see what the new year has in store for me. I'm no longer dreading it.
Bring it on :)
I got a new job. My dream job in fact. Perhaps not with my dream company but it's the job. An investment in "the future Miranda" as Graham says. I am the new Media Relations Specialist for Nortel and aside from the 45% pay increase, I'm totally thrilled to be heading to Toronto and starting my REAL career. It is refreshing to know I'll have a career, not just some job I work at for the pay cheque. Money only sustains you for so long.
I also found an apartment AND a roommate which is exciting :) It'll be strange to go from a two bedroom apartment all my own to one room in a place that isn't mine at all...but it will be a nice change. I'm looking forward to moving. I'm looking forward to purging all my old stuff and clutter and starting over somewhere new.
I've been looking back over 2006 and thinking smugly about how fabulous it was. I knew on New Year's Eve 2005 that '06 was gonna be a great year. I said it over and over... I remember. I was like my new years mantra. And I'm not sure if it was merely the power of suggestion, but 2006 was pretty much the best year of my life.
With all the change coming up in early 2007, I'm excited to see what the new year has in store for me. I'm no longer dreading it.
Bring it on :)
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
You know you're Canadian when....
...The item obstructing the intersection and causing a minor traffic jam is a hockey stick.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Change
"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power."
- Alan Cohen
I would love if I had this attitude about change but I've realized lately that I'm pretty averse to any drastic adjustments in my life. The thought of changing jobs, moving and starting something new, is intimidating and terrifying to me. I know I should embrace change and get excited about it, but my overwhelming feeling these days is that of anxiety and dread. As much as I dislike my current job, I often wonder if uprooting my life and moving somewhere else for a new job will be any better? Will I regret it? Will I wish I stayed in my secure position in my comfortable, roomy apartment in Waterloo? Does the grass just seem greener on the other side?
I'm afraid that my fear is going to paralyze me into inactivity. I seem to be really good at coming up with 700 negative reasons to turn down every opportunity that comes my way. I have a great potential job offer for a position I often dream about but somehow, I've practically dimissed it as an option before I've even had an interview.
I really need an attitude adjustment. My fear is irrational.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
I LOVE Halloween!
I seriously love Halloween. I wish there were more occassions during the year to put a costume on. I will never be too old for dressing silly and eating candy till my tongue hurts. Fantastic time! More pics are posted at my Photos link for any interested parties ;)
Friday, October 27, 2006
T's and C's are BS
So I'm at work, procrastinating because the task before me is about as appealing as eating shit for breakfast. I have to write a Terms and Conditions document. You know, those microprinted Legal-looking documents that no one ever reads and just clicks "I Accept." Yeah, that's my job. For someone who considers themselves a moderatley creative human being, this is a good way to suck the soul out of you.
However, I have to keep my rage muted; carry on complacently pretending I don't want to rip my eyeballs out and chuck my keyboard out the window.
I keep having these cruel fantasies about adding something offensive to the copy to see if anyone catches it... something like:
2. ELIGIBILITY: You are eligible to participate in the Promotion if you are: (a) a legal resident of the Qualifying Countries and have reached the age of majority in the province, state or district in which you reside; (b) you are a closet child molester for a full launch carrier with a slight tendency to remove your clothing in public; (c) you are employed as a Support Representative during the Promotion Period....
Maybe I would have more motivation for this on a Monday. Maybe my other tasks will be more appealing... or maybe I will just get a whole new job altogether. I've restarted my rigorous job search looking for something that allows to me to make use of that mult-thousand dollar degree I recently obtained. Honestly, somedays all I can think is that "I am SO much better than this!"
They've recently moved me to a new cube. Yes, a luxary 3-wall semi-enclosed space with my very own file cabinet and built-in white board. Sadly, this actually made me a little bit excited to come to work. If this is as good as it gets, I need to get out. Fast.
Tonight, I will be drinking copious amounts of booze to help me forget about all this. I will look forward to those job offers in the near future for something that actually resembles a career rather than the monotonous monkey work that is my job.
However, I have to keep my rage muted; carry on complacently pretending I don't want to rip my eyeballs out and chuck my keyboard out the window.
I keep having these cruel fantasies about adding something offensive to the copy to see if anyone catches it... something like:
2. ELIGIBILITY: You are eligible to participate in the Promotion if you are: (a) a legal resident of the Qualifying Countries and have reached the age of majority in the province, state or district in which you reside; (b) you are a closet child molester for a full launch carrier with a slight tendency to remove your clothing in public; (c) you are employed as a Support Representative during the Promotion Period....
Maybe I would have more motivation for this on a Monday. Maybe my other tasks will be more appealing... or maybe I will just get a whole new job altogether. I've restarted my rigorous job search looking for something that allows to me to make use of that mult-thousand dollar degree I recently obtained. Honestly, somedays all I can think is that "I am SO much better than this!"
They've recently moved me to a new cube. Yes, a luxary 3-wall semi-enclosed space with my very own file cabinet and built-in white board. Sadly, this actually made me a little bit excited to come to work. If this is as good as it gets, I need to get out. Fast.
Tonight, I will be drinking copious amounts of booze to help me forget about all this. I will look forward to those job offers in the near future for something that actually resembles a career rather than the monotonous monkey work that is my job.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Tis the Season
...for a ghost story :) Here's one I wrote...because my mom begged me to for this Halloween event she's hosting in Kincardine. Since this is the first peice of creative writing I've done in a terribly long time, I thought I'd unleash it onto the world.
Enjoy!
************************************
It was an unseasonably cold day for October, the kind of day you can almost smell winter approaching. The wind howled menacingly outside, creating a high-pitched whistle as it traveled between the weathered window panes.
Hilda MacLean sat up in her chair and peered out of the darkened windows onto a dimly lit Durham Street. The creases around her eyes deepened as she squinted at the night sky. Just the hint of a smile crept across her face as she watched, with interest, the slow and eerie rise of a grinning full moon. “A perfect night for All Hallow’s Eve,” she thought to herself.
The loud purring which reached the old woman’s ears came from the black cat that had leapt up on the table next to the rocking chair she was sitting in.
“Yes, my sweet,” she said to the cat. “Isn’t this a pretty night we have in store for us?”
As if comprehending every word Hilda said, the cat’s piercing green eyes stared deep into the old woman’s wrinkled orbs.
“You know what this means, don’t you my pretty?” The cat meowed softly in response. “It is the passing of an age, is what it is. A transition. Many long years I’ve seen, my pretty, but there is an ending to every story, and Hilda has seen it all, yes indeed.”
Hilda shifted uncomfortably in her rocking chair, and pushed herself up with a groan. She stood, awkwardly, stroking the cat’s fur with one gnarled finger. Coughing loudly, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare some tea.
“Oh, this ol’ gal ain’t what she used to be,” she said gruffly. More coughing. Hilda weakly cleared her throat. She reached for her teacup, but suddenly froze mid-reach. A deep pain attacked her chest. Her eyes bulged, and she stopped dead in her tracks. The teacup fell to the ground with a smash. The cat’s ears perked in the other room; its eyes widened, knowingly.
Hilda died suddenly, her dilapidated body now crumpled in a heap on the kitchen floor.
Trick-or-treaters came knocking, but left empty handed. Mail arrived and piled up outside her door. Days passed and, sadly, no one noticed her absence.
One afternoon, many days later, the mailman arrived, and noting that the mail from the previous week had not been collected, became suspicious. He knocked loudly on the door. “Mrs. MacLean,” he called. “Are you there?” Nothing. He knocked again, longer and louder. Still nothing, although he swore he could hear soft purring coming from inside. But he couldn’t be sure.
Concerned at the old woman’s apparent disappearance, he decided to call the OPP. It was not like Hilda to have left her home. After all, she hadn’t left it in over 20 years.
Later that evening, the police arrived and went inside, fearing the worst. They had seen this type of tragedy before. However, nothing could have prepared them for what was about to happen.
The door was unlocked, and the house was alarmingly hot and quiet. More alarming however, was the horrific stench, a smell the officers knew all too well. They slowly crept around, shining flashlights in dark corners, looking for the source of the odour, or for any clue as to Hilda’s whereabouts.
“Hey, come have a look at this!” shouted one of the officers. He pointed at the several clocks around Hilda’s living room. All of them were stopped at the same time: 11:59.
Then they saw it: Hilda’s horribly decomposed body in the middle of the kitchen floor. Her skin, a rotten grey colour, hung in clumps from her face and arms. Her eyes were sunken in, the sockets hollow and dried out. Her hair hung in grey, tangled clumps around her grotesque and ghoulish head. The smell was nauseating.
Then they heard something: a soft purring was coming from…Hilda’s body! The officer’s exchanged quizzical glances, leaned forward, and shone their flashlights. On the other side of the corpse - to their absolute horror - they could see Hilda’s black cat, now mangy and thin, gnawing on the old woman’s right hand. The cat had chewed off several fingers and was working its way through the knuckles.
Annoyed by the interruption, the cat let out a hideous screech, and lifting its blood-covered face into the light, leapt over the corpse, and under the kitchen table, safe from the intruders.
“Lord have mercy,” muttered Constable Jim Martin.
Just as he was turning his face away from the horrifying sight, their eyes met. The cat instantly arched its back, hissed, and stared menacingly at the officer, its piercing green eyes wide and wicked. Constable Martin recoiled backwards, as if shot in the chest by some unseen bullet, and smashed heavily into the opposite wall of the kitchen. His eyes were on fire! He clawed frantically at the afflicted orbs; his terrible screams sending shivers down the other officer’s backs.
Momentarily confused by what had just happened, the other officers gathered their wits about them, and quickly tended to their colleague.
“I can’t see!” he wailed. “I can’t see anything! I’m blind!” Constable Martin, a 10-year veteran of the Ontario Provincial Police, collapsed into a slump on the floor and began sobbing like a frightened child.
Constable Jim Martin had been instantly struck blind. No doctor could offer any rational explanation as to the cause.
Later, Hilda’s body was removed and buried. Her cat, however, was never found.
Enjoy!
************************************
It was an unseasonably cold day for October, the kind of day you can almost smell winter approaching. The wind howled menacingly outside, creating a high-pitched whistle as it traveled between the weathered window panes.
Hilda MacLean sat up in her chair and peered out of the darkened windows onto a dimly lit Durham Street. The creases around her eyes deepened as she squinted at the night sky. Just the hint of a smile crept across her face as she watched, with interest, the slow and eerie rise of a grinning full moon. “A perfect night for All Hallow’s Eve,” she thought to herself.
The loud purring which reached the old woman’s ears came from the black cat that had leapt up on the table next to the rocking chair she was sitting in.
“Yes, my sweet,” she said to the cat. “Isn’t this a pretty night we have in store for us?”
As if comprehending every word Hilda said, the cat’s piercing green eyes stared deep into the old woman’s wrinkled orbs.
“You know what this means, don’t you my pretty?” The cat meowed softly in response. “It is the passing of an age, is what it is. A transition. Many long years I’ve seen, my pretty, but there is an ending to every story, and Hilda has seen it all, yes indeed.”
Hilda shifted uncomfortably in her rocking chair, and pushed herself up with a groan. She stood, awkwardly, stroking the cat’s fur with one gnarled finger. Coughing loudly, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare some tea.
“Oh, this ol’ gal ain’t what she used to be,” she said gruffly. More coughing. Hilda weakly cleared her throat. She reached for her teacup, but suddenly froze mid-reach. A deep pain attacked her chest. Her eyes bulged, and she stopped dead in her tracks. The teacup fell to the ground with a smash. The cat’s ears perked in the other room; its eyes widened, knowingly.
Hilda died suddenly, her dilapidated body now crumpled in a heap on the kitchen floor.
Trick-or-treaters came knocking, but left empty handed. Mail arrived and piled up outside her door. Days passed and, sadly, no one noticed her absence.
One afternoon, many days later, the mailman arrived, and noting that the mail from the previous week had not been collected, became suspicious. He knocked loudly on the door. “Mrs. MacLean,” he called. “Are you there?” Nothing. He knocked again, longer and louder. Still nothing, although he swore he could hear soft purring coming from inside. But he couldn’t be sure.
Concerned at the old woman’s apparent disappearance, he decided to call the OPP. It was not like Hilda to have left her home. After all, she hadn’t left it in over 20 years.
Later that evening, the police arrived and went inside, fearing the worst. They had seen this type of tragedy before. However, nothing could have prepared them for what was about to happen.
The door was unlocked, and the house was alarmingly hot and quiet. More alarming however, was the horrific stench, a smell the officers knew all too well. They slowly crept around, shining flashlights in dark corners, looking for the source of the odour, or for any clue as to Hilda’s whereabouts.
“Hey, come have a look at this!” shouted one of the officers. He pointed at the several clocks around Hilda’s living room. All of them were stopped at the same time: 11:59.
Then they saw it: Hilda’s horribly decomposed body in the middle of the kitchen floor. Her skin, a rotten grey colour, hung in clumps from her face and arms. Her eyes were sunken in, the sockets hollow and dried out. Her hair hung in grey, tangled clumps around her grotesque and ghoulish head. The smell was nauseating.
Then they heard something: a soft purring was coming from…Hilda’s body! The officer’s exchanged quizzical glances, leaned forward, and shone their flashlights. On the other side of the corpse - to their absolute horror - they could see Hilda’s black cat, now mangy and thin, gnawing on the old woman’s right hand. The cat had chewed off several fingers and was working its way through the knuckles.
Annoyed by the interruption, the cat let out a hideous screech, and lifting its blood-covered face into the light, leapt over the corpse, and under the kitchen table, safe from the intruders.
“Lord have mercy,” muttered Constable Jim Martin.
Just as he was turning his face away from the horrifying sight, their eyes met. The cat instantly arched its back, hissed, and stared menacingly at the officer, its piercing green eyes wide and wicked. Constable Martin recoiled backwards, as if shot in the chest by some unseen bullet, and smashed heavily into the opposite wall of the kitchen. His eyes were on fire! He clawed frantically at the afflicted orbs; his terrible screams sending shivers down the other officer’s backs.
Momentarily confused by what had just happened, the other officers gathered their wits about them, and quickly tended to their colleague.
“I can’t see!” he wailed. “I can’t see anything! I’m blind!” Constable Martin, a 10-year veteran of the Ontario Provincial Police, collapsed into a slump on the floor and began sobbing like a frightened child.
Constable Jim Martin had been instantly struck blind. No doctor could offer any rational explanation as to the cause.
Later, Hilda’s body was removed and buried. Her cat, however, was never found.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Live Large
When I told my Dad that I was going to England for the Thanksgiving weekend, he said, with a tone of absolute audacity, "Who on earth goes to England for a weekend?" Why not, I asked? If you have the opportunity, do it. He also posed a similar question when I told him I was headed to Miami for the August long weekend: "Who goes to Florida in the middle of summer?" he asked. Apparently my Dad is much too conservative to understand the excitement that accompanies these short but sweet adventures. Gearing up for retirement, he's the kind of guy who books his 2-week long resort vacation in Cuba two months in advance. He finds spontaneity stressful rather than thrilling.
I'm glad I didn't inherit this limiting attitude. Maybe my dad was more of a thrill-seeker back in the day. Although, I have a feeling he was always this conventional and unadventurous.
I think Mark Twain says it best:
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
I'm glad I didn't inherit this limiting attitude. Maybe my dad was more of a thrill-seeker back in the day. Although, I have a feeling he was always this conventional and unadventurous.
I think Mark Twain says it best:
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
All the best on your birthday
Today I got a birthday card in the mail. It was from the owners of the pilates studio that I go to once a week so I assumed that it would be some boring, "wishing you all the best on your special day" bullshit that's normally in those stock cards you get from places you give money to. At Christmas, I received a total of 2 cards in the mail... from my insurance company and my cat sitter (Yes, I have a cat sitter) and they were both one-sentence Hallmark style messages accompanied by a signature. I could practically re-use them. I do appreciate the effort but there's nothing heartfelt about a message like that... not that I really expect anything heartfelt from an insurance company....anyways....
This card, though simple, was a little different. In the owner's handwriting it said:
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away. Happy Birthday."
I liked it. I've heard the quote before but the fact that it was handwritten seemed to make it more personal. It's a nice feel-good kind of quote. In fact, everything about that pilates studio is feel-good. And maybe I'm deluded, but I actually think I'm seeing results.
****************************************
Speaking of my birthday, I can't help but mention what I now have planned. Graham asked me to go to England with him!! ENGLAND! I'm basically still recovering from shock. So on Oct. 5, we're leaving for the Thanksgiving weekend on an overseas adventure! Honestly, could this guy be any more incredible? I have a feeling this is going to be a good birthday. :)
This card, though simple, was a little different. In the owner's handwriting it said:
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away. Happy Birthday."
I liked it. I've heard the quote before but the fact that it was handwritten seemed to make it more personal. It's a nice feel-good kind of quote. In fact, everything about that pilates studio is feel-good. And maybe I'm deluded, but I actually think I'm seeing results.
****************************************
Speaking of my birthday, I can't help but mention what I now have planned. Graham asked me to go to England with him!! ENGLAND! I'm basically still recovering from shock. So on Oct. 5, we're leaving for the Thanksgiving weekend on an overseas adventure! Honestly, could this guy be any more incredible? I have a feeling this is going to be a good birthday. :)
Monday, September 25, 2006
Reality Check
I sometimes have these moments where I convince myself that I can sing. These moments normally occur in my car when the volume is cranked and mostly drowning out my voice. This happened today and as a test, I turned the volume down and sang some more only to be convinced once again that I am in fact, a terrible singer. Damn you genetics. Where were you on this one?!
**************************
Today I finally got a new driver's license picture. The first one since my original, day-I-turned-16, deer-in-the-headlights shot back in 2000. According to a coworker, I "look like a baby" in that photo. Strangely though, I've never had any trouble with it at the bar. Nor have the two 18 year olds I gave my old licenses to as far as I know ;) Two - three weeks till I see what will be the next photo to last the next 6 years.
***************************
So homecoming came and went in a blur of drunken partying. I have patchy memories of the whole day. I guess that's what happens when you attend breakfast keggers and start your day off with a large Tim Horton's coffee that's heavy on the Baileys, low on the coffee. Great day though. I saw pretty much every single person I've ever met in university, saw a football game (by saw, I mean drank in the beer tents), and got drunk three seperate times in one day. Highlights include a beer-filled water gun, Graham and I unofficially winning "The drunkest couple" award, Patillo nipping at Cathy's breakfast sausage on a fork and countless games of flip cup. I was having a hard time adjusting to this new life as a non-student. I was feeling old and sad. But with weekends like this, it seems like being an alumni isn't so bad afterall ;)
**************************
Today I finally got a new driver's license picture. The first one since my original, day-I-turned-16, deer-in-the-headlights shot back in 2000. According to a coworker, I "look like a baby" in that photo. Strangely though, I've never had any trouble with it at the bar. Nor have the two 18 year olds I gave my old licenses to as far as I know ;) Two - three weeks till I see what will be the next photo to last the next 6 years.
***************************
So homecoming came and went in a blur of drunken partying. I have patchy memories of the whole day. I guess that's what happens when you attend breakfast keggers and start your day off with a large Tim Horton's coffee that's heavy on the Baileys, low on the coffee. Great day though. I saw pretty much every single person I've ever met in university, saw a football game (by saw, I mean drank in the beer tents), and got drunk three seperate times in one day. Highlights include a beer-filled water gun, Graham and I unofficially winning "The drunkest couple" award, Patillo nipping at Cathy's breakfast sausage on a fork and countless games of flip cup. I was having a hard time adjusting to this new life as a non-student. I was feeling old and sad. But with weekends like this, it seems like being an alumni isn't so bad afterall ;)
Friday, September 22, 2006
You know you're old when...
Your two options for Friday night are:
1) A Wine and Cheese party
2) Attending the K/W Symphony
1) A Wine and Cheese party
2) Attending the K/W Symphony
Thursday, September 21, 2006
My world turned upside down
Time has literally dissapeared since I returned from my Costa Rican adventure. I've had a draft post saved that's a long winded play-by-play about what a wonderful, life changing experience it was but I deleted it. I realized that nothing I say, no pictures I show anyone or anything I write will ever do it justice. That trip was incredible. Life changing, eye-opening and inspirational. To see a sucessful experiment in sustainable living and witness a community living and working in complete harmony with nature was absolutley refreshing. Sometimes I feel like this world is doomed but being there really instilled new hope in me.While I was on the trip I kept a trip journal of sorts - well, more like some scrawlings of random thoughts and substandard poetry but there was one entry in particular that I'd like to post because it makes me remember the incredible people that live in the Durika Biological Reserve in Costa Rica. I titled it "Knowledge"
"The people here have a lot of knowledge to share. No matter how many times they must have shared their stories, their eyes still sparkle when they talk. They're not self righteous or condescending; they're just eager to share what they know. It's reassuring to know that they weren't always like this. They grew up in urban areas, went to university, and lived much like I do today. Coming here wasn't easy. It was a journey, a sacrifice, a challenge. I will really try to take even a small peice of this knowledge back home with me. I can't change the world but I can change myself. It's a start"
I met some incredible people, saw some of the most diverse, interesting landscapes I've ever seen, ate some fabulous food and learned a lot - about work, life and myself. I couldn't have asked for a better way to end the summer.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Costa Rican jitters
So I depart on my much anticipated Costa Rican adventure in 5 days and I'm nervous. I've been gearing up for this trip for more than 6 months and for some reason, I feel moderatley stressed about it. It could be a combination of my other irrational stressing these days but I feel strangely worried. I'm trying to ignore it and focus in on my excitment.
On Tuesday, I went and bought a hiking backpack and some hiking boots. I've never done anything like this before but dammit, I'm going to look the part ;) Maybe backpacking will become a new hobby of mine. For the cost of the accessories, it should.
I'm mostly nervous about the fact that I'm going on this trip with a group of total strangers. The first time I meet them will be in the airport a few hours before departure. I'm sure they'll be great but the thought of meeting 15 people i'll be spending the next week and half of my life with intimidates me a bit.
Really, despite all my nervous tension, I know this is going to be the trip of a lifetime. I complain about the cost and all the things I have to buy that I may never use again but in the end, I really don't care. What good is money if you don't spend it? And this is certainly a worthwhile investment.
I'll get my stuff together over the weekend, chill out and see Dave Chappelle on Monday and gear up for this serious adventure on Tuesday. Screw my nervousness. It's going to be great. I know it.
On Tuesday, I went and bought a hiking backpack and some hiking boots. I've never done anything like this before but dammit, I'm going to look the part ;) Maybe backpacking will become a new hobby of mine. For the cost of the accessories, it should.
I'm mostly nervous about the fact that I'm going on this trip with a group of total strangers. The first time I meet them will be in the airport a few hours before departure. I'm sure they'll be great but the thought of meeting 15 people i'll be spending the next week and half of my life with intimidates me a bit.
Really, despite all my nervous tension, I know this is going to be the trip of a lifetime. I complain about the cost and all the things I have to buy that I may never use again but in the end, I really don't care. What good is money if you don't spend it? And this is certainly a worthwhile investment.
I'll get my stuff together over the weekend, chill out and see Dave Chappelle on Monday and gear up for this serious adventure on Tuesday. Screw my nervousness. It's going to be great. I know it.
Monday, August 14, 2006
In the afterglow of reflection
It was perfect. I wouldn't have changed a thing. April and Jake's wedding was just... wonderful. April looked stunning. I could barely hold back tears when I looked at her. She was so calm and collected. So happy. It was beautiful.
The ceremony was short and sweet. Alicia and Joel's rendition of "Baby I love your way" was unforgetable. It was a perfect day. Warm and pleasant. Everyone looked fabulous. I barely recognized myself in the pictures I saw yesterday.
Despite being a nervous wreck, moreso even than the bride herself, I pulled it together enough to walk down the aisle smiling ear-to-ear rather than with that look of nervous panic that I envisioned on the drive to the church. I didn't cough. But I cried. I thought I'd be a rock, April's voice of reason but there was so much emotion I couldn't help it. It's funny how things that are so happy bring people to tears. It's strange to smile and cry at the same time.
The reception was also unforgetable. I couldn't have imagined it any other way. The speeches were amusing, heartfelt and honest and I even managed to get through mine without sobbing uncontrollably.
Everyone was so happy.
The food was fantastic and the band was great. It was so nice to see so many different generations of couples out on the dance floor having a great time together. It was a great party.
I'm having trouble concentrating at work today. I keep staring off into the distance of my computer screen with a silly grin on my face remembering the whole weekend.
I couldn't be happier for April and Jake. You two are really some kind of wonderful :)
The ceremony was short and sweet. Alicia and Joel's rendition of "Baby I love your way" was unforgetable. It was a perfect day. Warm and pleasant. Everyone looked fabulous. I barely recognized myself in the pictures I saw yesterday.
Despite being a nervous wreck, moreso even than the bride herself, I pulled it together enough to walk down the aisle smiling ear-to-ear rather than with that look of nervous panic that I envisioned on the drive to the church. I didn't cough. But I cried. I thought I'd be a rock, April's voice of reason but there was so much emotion I couldn't help it. It's funny how things that are so happy bring people to tears. It's strange to smile and cry at the same time.
The reception was also unforgetable. I couldn't have imagined it any other way. The speeches were amusing, heartfelt and honest and I even managed to get through mine without sobbing uncontrollably.
Everyone was so happy.
The food was fantastic and the band was great. It was so nice to see so many different generations of couples out on the dance floor having a great time together. It was a great party.
I'm having trouble concentrating at work today. I keep staring off into the distance of my computer screen with a silly grin on my face remembering the whole weekend.
I couldn't be happier for April and Jake. You two are really some kind of wonderful :)
Friday, August 11, 2006
On the anniversary of the Green Day concert...
Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of the Green Day concert that April and Tina and I went to last year. I loved that concert. Definitley the highlight of last summer. But what is more noteworthy about tomorrow is that it is the day that my dear friend April gets married! MARRIED!! I joked at the concert that Green Day was their one-year pre-anniversary to which Jake curtly informed me was not a "real thing." Nevertheless, tomorrow is the big day and I can hardly beleive it. This is a big day for me too. My first friend to get married and my first time as a bridesmaid. I actually feel a little nervous about it.
I have this stupid cold still and I'm worried i'll cough through their ceremony. I'm worried i'll be sniffing and sneezing while they're trying to say their vows and everyone will remember me as that girl that ruined the serenity of the nuptials. I'm worried I won't feel well enough to enjoy myself and that the drugs i'm taking to mask the pain of this wretched sinus cold will make me loopy and dilirious.
I'm worried about my speech. I'm worried its too sappy and too short and that it doesn't do justice to how awesome April and Jake are.
I'm worried about the bruises and random cuts on my legs and if they'll show up in the wedding photos and I'll look like some moronic clutz or abused woman. I'm worried that my tan lines from too many days at the beach are going to look silly with my strapless dress.
I'm worried that I'll cry like an emotional basketcase at this wedding and make a big jerk of myself. I'm worried my gift isn't good enough.
If I'm this worried, I can hardly imagine how April must feel.
But I'll do the best I can despite my overall trivial concerns. I'm really looking forward to this wedding. It's been a big build up and I can't wait to see it all come together.
Congratulations April and Jake! "I always knew there was a hint of forever about you two!"
I have this stupid cold still and I'm worried i'll cough through their ceremony. I'm worried i'll be sniffing and sneezing while they're trying to say their vows and everyone will remember me as that girl that ruined the serenity of the nuptials. I'm worried I won't feel well enough to enjoy myself and that the drugs i'm taking to mask the pain of this wretched sinus cold will make me loopy and dilirious.
I'm worried about my speech. I'm worried its too sappy and too short and that it doesn't do justice to how awesome April and Jake are.
I'm worried about the bruises and random cuts on my legs and if they'll show up in the wedding photos and I'll look like some moronic clutz or abused woman. I'm worried that my tan lines from too many days at the beach are going to look silly with my strapless dress.
I'm worried that I'll cry like an emotional basketcase at this wedding and make a big jerk of myself. I'm worried my gift isn't good enough.
If I'm this worried, I can hardly imagine how April must feel.
But I'll do the best I can despite my overall trivial concerns. I'm really looking forward to this wedding. It's been a big build up and I can't wait to see it all come together.
Congratulations April and Jake! "I always knew there was a hint of forever about you two!"
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
If you think you're hot, go to Miami
Miami is fantastic. Great beaches, great places to eat, hot cars, hot people and bars that literally stay open all night. But if there's one place on earth that can make you feel like a poor, lowly nobody, Miami is it.
The amount of money in that city is insane. Millions is like pocket change. The cars are nicer than anything I could ever imagine owning, the houses are too good to even beleive and if you ever think you're an attractive person, Miami is a nice place to go for a wake-up call. I've never felt like such an unattractive nobody in my whole life walking around on Ocean Drive on a Friday night. The people are absolutley stunning and dressed to impress. Tourists stick out like a sore thumb. Any attempt to blend in was entirely futile.
That being said, I certainly had a nice time pretending. Graham and I creeped around in Loews, an absolutley gorgeous hotel on Miami Beach and lurked around in the conference rooms at the Ritz Carleton. His friend Kishore gave us a driving tour of the city and we got to see some multi-million dollar homes belonging to the rich and famous. His absolute nonchalance at his friend's $8-million dollar home is mind boggling. Any of his friends would likely scoff in disgust at the welfare-esque style housing I call my apartment.
We also got to see the ocean-front mansion of the late Gianni Versace which looked rather vampire-like and creepy at night. Our big plan to hang around outside and wait for our invitation to party with some supermodels certainly never came to fruition.
Overall though, an absolutley fantastic place to visit. It's a great place for a reality check for anyone experiencing a temporary bout of arrogance.
I'd go back in a second, even if I could never hope to blend in with the impressive crowds that live there.
The amount of money in that city is insane. Millions is like pocket change. The cars are nicer than anything I could ever imagine owning, the houses are too good to even beleive and if you ever think you're an attractive person, Miami is a nice place to go for a wake-up call. I've never felt like such an unattractive nobody in my whole life walking around on Ocean Drive on a Friday night. The people are absolutley stunning and dressed to impress. Tourists stick out like a sore thumb. Any attempt to blend in was entirely futile.
That being said, I certainly had a nice time pretending. Graham and I creeped around in Loews, an absolutley gorgeous hotel on Miami Beach and lurked around in the conference rooms at the Ritz Carleton. His friend Kishore gave us a driving tour of the city and we got to see some multi-million dollar homes belonging to the rich and famous. His absolute nonchalance at his friend's $8-million dollar home is mind boggling. Any of his friends would likely scoff in disgust at the welfare-esque style housing I call my apartment.
We also got to see the ocean-front mansion of the late Gianni Versace which looked rather vampire-like and creepy at night. Our big plan to hang around outside and wait for our invitation to party with some supermodels certainly never came to fruition.
Overall though, an absolutley fantastic place to visit. It's a great place for a reality check for anyone experiencing a temporary bout of arrogance.
I'd go back in a second, even if I could never hope to blend in with the impressive crowds that live there.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
It's so hot I have a cold
Does that make any sense? I was quite convinced yesterday that my allergy-like symptoms were the fault of an overused air conditioning system at work and the super contrast between the sauna-like outdoors and the sweater-worthy temperatures in the office. But no, it's just as I feared: I have a cold.
Its been months since I've had so much as a sniffle and now, days before a long anticipated trip to Miami, I have that annoying runny nose, watery eyes, sneezing, coughing, muscle aching common cold.
But I won't let it get me down. I'll will it out of my body with a good attitude and only kind, healthy activities. I'll eat apples and get lots of sleep. I'll drink water not coffee and read a book instead of going to the bar.
Ugh. Colds. There's always a glimmer of hope though because if you can't beat 'em, drug 'em :)
Its been months since I've had so much as a sniffle and now, days before a long anticipated trip to Miami, I have that annoying runny nose, watery eyes, sneezing, coughing, muscle aching common cold.
But I won't let it get me down. I'll will it out of my body with a good attitude and only kind, healthy activities. I'll eat apples and get lots of sleep. I'll drink water not coffee and read a book instead of going to the bar.
Ugh. Colds. There's always a glimmer of hope though because if you can't beat 'em, drug 'em :)
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Monday, July 31, 2006
So much awesomeness
The amount of awesomeness of this summer is well.... awesome :) I just got back from a great time in Grand Bend with Jocelyn. We drank a lot of cheap wine and bar hopped around including a stop on the Virgin Mobile party bus to drink a pile of free RedBull and make long distance calls on their free-to-use phones. We also used our charm and stunning good looks to enter all three bars free of charge and smuggled in our own booze to avoid paying $6 for watered down drinks. Total amount spent: $10. Fabulous.
I can hardly contain my excitement for this Friday! Graham and I are heading to Miami for the long weekend. We've got a great hotel near South Beach and a list of exciting possible agenda items. Sun, sand, great bars, duty free booze... i'm eagerly anticipating a fabulous long weekend :)
Following what should be a debaucherous weekend of serious partying will be something a little more wholesome but certainly not any less anticipated: APRIL'S WEDDING! I can't even beleive it's so soon. She's been counting down the days for months and I can't wait to be a part of this wedding. I couldn't think of two people I'd rather see married :)
And shortly after this, I'm off to Costa Rica on my half pleasure trip, half humanitarian effort for the long anticipated Eco-Adventure Tour. 11-days of sightseeing, hiking in the rainforest, and helping the people that live in the self sustaining community of the Durika Village is bound to be amoung the highlights of my summer.
And I certainly can't forget the newest upcoming event of this summer: Dave Chappelle on Aug. 21 in Toronto. Tickets were purchased this morning :) Incredible.
Oh and perhaps this sounds trivial to add to the list but my new cell phone is also included in the awesomeness. The old Siemans C61 and I had a great time together but I think the beer bath and the sandstorm put it over the edge... It's officially retired. I had the pleasure of welcoming a new Samsung P207 into my possession on Saturday. I think we'll be very happy together.
In a word, this summer is.... awesome. :)
I can hardly contain my excitement for this Friday! Graham and I are heading to Miami for the long weekend. We've got a great hotel near South Beach and a list of exciting possible agenda items. Sun, sand, great bars, duty free booze... i'm eagerly anticipating a fabulous long weekend :)
Following what should be a debaucherous weekend of serious partying will be something a little more wholesome but certainly not any less anticipated: APRIL'S WEDDING! I can't even beleive it's so soon. She's been counting down the days for months and I can't wait to be a part of this wedding. I couldn't think of two people I'd rather see married :)
And shortly after this, I'm off to Costa Rica on my half pleasure trip, half humanitarian effort for the long anticipated Eco-Adventure Tour. 11-days of sightseeing, hiking in the rainforest, and helping the people that live in the self sustaining community of the Durika Village is bound to be amoung the highlights of my summer.
And I certainly can't forget the newest upcoming event of this summer: Dave Chappelle on Aug. 21 in Toronto. Tickets were purchased this morning :) Incredible.
Oh and perhaps this sounds trivial to add to the list but my new cell phone is also included in the awesomeness. The old Siemans C61 and I had a great time together but I think the beer bath and the sandstorm put it over the edge... It's officially retired. I had the pleasure of welcoming a new Samsung P207 into my possession on Saturday. I think we'll be very happy together.
In a word, this summer is.... awesome. :)
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Busy vs. Bored
After only 2 months, i'm already becoming delinquent at updating this blog. And my excuse: i've been really busy. Yes, that old cliche. But its very true, I assure you.
After a 6 day "business trip" to England involving two days of sightseeing in London and Windsor and a lot of wine consumption on the company's dime, I came back home to more non-stop activity. After being home less than 24 hours, I left for the weekend with Tina and headed up to Rondeau for our annual road trip to see nature-boy Scott. And it's been a rather chaotic week with long days at work, fun parties at night, shopping trips to spend other people's money and a small pile of interviews and job offers!
A wise friend once told me that she'd rather be busy than bored. I couldn't agree more. I would much rather live my life bouncing around from one thing to the next rather than sitting around idly twiddling my thumbs. But after any period of excess activity, that only-child symdome in me kicks in and demands some time to just relax.
8:00 a.m. has come far too early everyday this week. I'd love to sleep in. I'd love a nap. I'd like to finish the book I started on the plane. Tonight's agenda: nothing :) And for once, I'm actually kind of happy about that.
After a 6 day "business trip" to England involving two days of sightseeing in London and Windsor and a lot of wine consumption on the company's dime, I came back home to more non-stop activity. After being home less than 24 hours, I left for the weekend with Tina and headed up to Rondeau for our annual road trip to see nature-boy Scott. And it's been a rather chaotic week with long days at work, fun parties at night, shopping trips to spend other people's money and a small pile of interviews and job offers!
A wise friend once told me that she'd rather be busy than bored. I couldn't agree more. I would much rather live my life bouncing around from one thing to the next rather than sitting around idly twiddling my thumbs. But after any period of excess activity, that only-child symdome in me kicks in and demands some time to just relax.
8:00 a.m. has come far too early everyday this week. I'd love to sleep in. I'd love a nap. I'd like to finish the book I started on the plane. Tonight's agenda: nothing :) And for once, I'm actually kind of happy about that.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Life is Goooooooooooood
Normally I'm a pretty bitter and cynical person. I'm usually the one to add that hint of pessimism to a conversation and make gagging noises if anyone talks about anything too warm and fuzzy. I rarely look on the bright side of things and I've lived my life with an "expect the worst, hope for the best" sort of attitude.
But lately, things have changed a little bit. I think I made Shank nauseous with my excessive use of the word "fantastic" in our msn conversation earlier tonight. And today, I found myself humming on my walk into work. HUMMING!
Yes, its official: I'm happy :)
But lately, things have changed a little bit. I think I made Shank nauseous with my excessive use of the word "fantastic" in our msn conversation earlier tonight. And today, I found myself humming on my walk into work. HUMMING!
Yes, its official: I'm happy :)
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
A Proud F*cking Canadian
Canada Day passed with the regular drunken shenanigans this year. Despite a rampage of post-its covered in swearing and sexual inuendos with distinctly Canadian references, we didn't do anything that was terribly Canadian this year. But the weather held true to tradition - black skies, hurriance winds and a raging thunderstorm. Oooooh Canada.
An online poll last week asked the question: "Do you think Canadians are patriotic enough?" My initial response was a resounding "YES!" but when I actually started thinking about it, I wondered if that was really true. If wearing a post-it that says "I love Moose Cock" or "Jack Layton is hot" and drinking copious amounts of rye and ginger is Canadian, then I'm the most patriotic girl this country has ever seen.
I really am proud to be Canadian though even if I didn't show it in a very significant way this weekend. Every time I see Peter Mansbridge on The National or I hear the Hockey Night in Canada theme song, I want to stand up and break into a lively a cappella version of "Oh Canada!" Okay, maybe not.
In any event, Canada Day at least makes me feel patriotic. And if nothing else, it gave me an excuse to raise a glass and say "Happy F*cking Canada Day!" over and over and over....
An online poll last week asked the question: "Do you think Canadians are patriotic enough?" My initial response was a resounding "YES!" but when I actually started thinking about it, I wondered if that was really true. If wearing a post-it that says "I love Moose Cock" or "Jack Layton is hot" and drinking copious amounts of rye and ginger is Canadian, then I'm the most patriotic girl this country has ever seen.
I really am proud to be Canadian though even if I didn't show it in a very significant way this weekend. Every time I see Peter Mansbridge on The National or I hear the Hockey Night in Canada theme song, I want to stand up and break into a lively a cappella version of "Oh Canada!" Okay, maybe not.
In any event, Canada Day at least makes me feel patriotic. And if nothing else, it gave me an excuse to raise a glass and say "Happy F*cking Canada Day!" over and over and over....
Thursday, June 29, 2006
"Pickles are Destroying my Life"
If you ever think you're fucked up, just watch this. Guaranteed, you'll feel better immediatley.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2S89Y4shxtE&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Eedge102%2Ecom%2Fstation%2Fblog%5Fwtf%2Ecfm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2S89Y4shxtE&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Eedge102%2Ecom%2Fstation%2Fblog%5Fwtf%2Ecfm
An Obituary for my Favourite Lube Shop
It's a sad day. My favourite Oil and Lube Shop in Waterloo has been permanently closed. It was the only place I ever went to to have my oil changed in my car. I liked it. It was familiar and nice. They always had pots of coffee there for you to drink while you waited. I'm sure the coffee was about 9 hours old and it usually tasted like shit but I thought it was a nice gesture.
The staff was always nice to me. They never treated me like some dumb girl who knew nothing about cars. They gave me updates on my cars filters and things and showed me the new oil on the stick. They never ripped me off or tried to up-sell me. We had nice chats about the regular cliche small-talk topics like the weather or current events in the area.
Once one of the grease monkeys that worked there asked me out. I had to decline though. I had a boyfriend. But I felt special after that. Pretty ballsy move to ask out a girl who's name you don't even know.
The saddest part about all this is that there's no reason for the closure. The sign says "due to uncontrollable circumstances." WTF does that mean? It seems suspicious to me. Maybe after 20 years of changing oil, you just need a drastic change of life. Who knows?
I'm sad it's gone. Because that means I'll need to find a new place to have my oil changed. And maybe they won't be nice there or have free coffee or boys that ask me out.
Yes, it's a sad day. RIP Fast Oil and Lube. I'll always remember the efficient and caring way you changed my car's oil. The old 1996 Cavalier thanks you. From the bottom of her rusty heart.
The staff was always nice to me. They never treated me like some dumb girl who knew nothing about cars. They gave me updates on my cars filters and things and showed me the new oil on the stick. They never ripped me off or tried to up-sell me. We had nice chats about the regular cliche small-talk topics like the weather or current events in the area.
Once one of the grease monkeys that worked there asked me out. I had to decline though. I had a boyfriend. But I felt special after that. Pretty ballsy move to ask out a girl who's name you don't even know.
The saddest part about all this is that there's no reason for the closure. The sign says "due to uncontrollable circumstances." WTF does that mean? It seems suspicious to me. Maybe after 20 years of changing oil, you just need a drastic change of life. Who knows?
I'm sad it's gone. Because that means I'll need to find a new place to have my oil changed. And maybe they won't be nice there or have free coffee or boys that ask me out.
Yes, it's a sad day. RIP Fast Oil and Lube. I'll always remember the efficient and caring way you changed my car's oil. The old 1996 Cavalier thanks you. From the bottom of her rusty heart.
I'd rather write when I'm happy
Today I spent a lot of time reading some other people's blogs. I noticed a trend. People post a lot of stuff about heartache and angst, stress and boyfriend/life related issues. And I don't know if I'm some wierd freak, but I really enjoy reading it. Even tales of heartache seem to inspire me somehow. They make me want to write more. I guess it has something to do with the way people are able to capture emotions so accuratley through words. It's interesting, and brave, what people are willing to put out there in public about themselves.
Certainly when I was dealing with my breakup (aka divorce without marriage), I wrote I lot of horrifyingly depressing poetry. But I wrote it by hand and hid it away. It was cathartic. It seemed to help somehow. But I would never unleash that angst onto the world. I don't even want to remember I ever felt that low.
I'd rather write when I'm happy. Maybe that makes me a coward.
Certainly when I was dealing with my breakup (aka divorce without marriage), I wrote I lot of horrifyingly depressing poetry. But I wrote it by hand and hid it away. It was cathartic. It seemed to help somehow. But I would never unleash that angst onto the world. I don't even want to remember I ever felt that low.
I'd rather write when I'm happy. Maybe that makes me a coward.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Never Underestimate the Stupidity of the General Public
...and by general public, I mean me. After much angst and serious soul searching yesterday, I posted a public apology for thoughtlessly making fun of a variety of foreign names I considered funny. This apology was provoked by a rather hateful comment posted by a certain Jaffar Ali Jaffar. Turns out, it was actually Graham.
Now if you read this comment, you might wonder how the hell I became so gullible. You might call me a sucker and wonder how I naively beleived this to be from the real Jaffar and not be skeptical, for at least a few seconds, and consider that this post might be from someone I know playing a mean trick. Well, I have no rationale for my stupidity.
It really caused me serious anxiety. I actually spent a significant portion of last night feeling like a cold, insensitive bitch. Anyways, I have a sense of humour about it all and definitley laughed when I found out that Jaffar was not actually going to seek me out slay me with his blade of mercy. Jesus. How did I actually think that was from the real guy?
And once again, I perpetuate that dumb blonde stereotype quite nicely.
Graham, you're a jerk. :)
Now if you read this comment, you might wonder how the hell I became so gullible. You might call me a sucker and wonder how I naively beleived this to be from the real Jaffar and not be skeptical, for at least a few seconds, and consider that this post might be from someone I know playing a mean trick. Well, I have no rationale for my stupidity.
It really caused me serious anxiety. I actually spent a significant portion of last night feeling like a cold, insensitive bitch. Anyways, I have a sense of humour about it all and definitley laughed when I found out that Jaffar was not actually going to seek me out slay me with his blade of mercy. Jesus. How did I actually think that was from the real guy?
And once again, I perpetuate that dumb blonde stereotype quite nicely.
Graham, you're a jerk. :)
Monday, June 26, 2006
Reconnecting With My Artistic Side
This was my attempt to create some sort of anti-consumerism message through photography. I'm not sure I suceeded but I do like the way the pavement looks.
I miss being artistic. This technical job of mine is killing my creativity. I think it's time I reunited with a little friend I call the 35 mm SLR :)
Laugh More Now
I was randomly reading some of my old poetry I wrote and in amongst a lot of angsty, depressing stuff about losing faith in human beings and feeling hopelessly depressed and dejected, I found this little statistic:
"The average child laughs 400 times a day.
The average adult? 15."
400 times a day? Wow. If only I laughed 400 times a day. I'd even estimate that 15 is on the high end... unless we count the "pee-your-pants" hilariousness of Saturday night.
Finding this made me feel old. I've been feeling old a lot lately. It seems like fun is going to come to a grinding halt any moment now as I enter into what's supposed to be "adulthood" and "responisbility." Ugh. I hate those words. Being a child and laughing 400 times a day certainly sounds more enjoyable.
This also reminds me of a quote I heard once that said something like, "You don't stop playing because you grow old, you grow old because you stop playing."
Screw full time jobs and responsibility. I'm just going play and laugh... maybe i'll shoot for 410 times a day.
"The average child laughs 400 times a day.
The average adult? 15."
400 times a day? Wow. If only I laughed 400 times a day. I'd even estimate that 15 is on the high end... unless we count the "pee-your-pants" hilariousness of Saturday night.
Finding this made me feel old. I've been feeling old a lot lately. It seems like fun is going to come to a grinding halt any moment now as I enter into what's supposed to be "adulthood" and "responisbility." Ugh. I hate those words. Being a child and laughing 400 times a day certainly sounds more enjoyable.
This also reminds me of a quote I heard once that said something like, "You don't stop playing because you grow old, you grow old because you stop playing."
Screw full time jobs and responsibility. I'm just going play and laugh... maybe i'll shoot for 410 times a day.
I should really be more sensitive
Just wanted to post a public apology for my insenstive post "My name is not Randy." I have since edited it and removed reference to anyone's names "I consider funny." I really meant no offense to anyone. Fahd, I'm keeping your name up there as the winner though. Prize is TBD ;)
Apparently a lot more people than I thought Google search their own name. And I thought I was being unique. hahaha
Anyways, feel free to post insensitive jokes about Miranda or any variation of MacDonald. Hell, why don't we toss in some blonde jokes too?
Apparently a lot more people than I thought Google search their own name. And I thought I was being unique. hahaha
Anyways, feel free to post insensitive jokes about Miranda or any variation of MacDonald. Hell, why don't we toss in some blonde jokes too?
Sunday, June 25, 2006
The night's I'll never remember
It's good we take friends out with us when we drink. Otherwise, there would be a whole pile of stories and circumstances we'd never remember. There's nothing quite like the post-party discussions of what exactly did occur the night previous and peicing together everyone's blurry, fragmented memories.
Take Pub Golf night for instance: wtf actually happened that night? We may never know. Cathy, how you ended up with my entire purse of belongings with my keys around your neck, will remain a mystery. I'm still recovering from a variety of drinking related injuries to this day.
There's a large gap in my memories of last night even. However, I'm sure some stories will be surfacing soon...along with the worst picture of me of all time. (Coming soon to a website near you)
In the end though, even if half of these great times are lost somewhere in the drunken oblivion of my subconcious, there's one thing I do always remember: That was a grrrrrrrrreat night.
Thanks for a great party last night guys :)
Take Pub Golf night for instance: wtf actually happened that night? We may never know. Cathy, how you ended up with my entire purse of belongings with my keys around your neck, will remain a mystery. I'm still recovering from a variety of drinking related injuries to this day.
There's a large gap in my memories of last night even. However, I'm sure some stories will be surfacing soon...along with the worst picture of me of all time. (Coming soon to a website near you)
In the end though, even if half of these great times are lost somewhere in the drunken oblivion of my subconcious, there's one thing I do always remember: That was a grrrrrrrrreat night.
Thanks for a great party last night guys :)
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Sitting
A degree of nothingness
is important:
to sit emptily
in the sun
recieving fire
That is the way to mend
An extraordinary world
sitting perfectly still
and only
remotely human.
is important:
to sit emptily
in the sun
recieving fire
That is the way to mend
An extraordinary world
sitting perfectly still
and only
remotely human.
Grand Bender
Boats. Oh, how I love them. Especially 31 foot yachts in Grand Bend. It was a perfect weekend to spend in Grand Bend. Saturday was apparently the nicest day of the summer and I couldn't agree more. Waking up, eating a giant bowl of Cheerios and then proceeding to lay in the sun with a drink in my hand till mid-afternoon is better than anything I could ask for.
It was a perfect beach day for my first official swim in the lake. Despite the fact that I was expecting beyond freezing temperatures with possible ice chunks still adrift in the lake, it was actually quite pleasant. Sharing my one beach towel with Graham was not.
I ate a cheeseburger and fries. For some reason that seems all the more acceptable in a beach town like Grand Bend.
I'm unshowered and feeling the filth of two days sweat on my skin, but I feel gloriously relaxed.
Great weather, fabulous boat, good company... I couldn't be happier.
It was a perfect beach day for my first official swim in the lake. Despite the fact that I was expecting beyond freezing temperatures with possible ice chunks still adrift in the lake, it was actually quite pleasant. Sharing my one beach towel with Graham was not.
I ate a cheeseburger and fries. For some reason that seems all the more acceptable in a beach town like Grand Bend.
I'm unshowered and feeling the filth of two days sweat on my skin, but I feel gloriously relaxed.
Great weather, fabulous boat, good company... I couldn't be happier.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Glorious Green
Love this picture I took in Cuba this year. Makes decent desktop background - if anyone wants it, it'll cost ya $10 :)
Miranda's Mirandafest
The other day I thought to myself, "Self, you haven't google-searched your name in a while." Usually searches for "Miranda MacDonald" don't yield anything too exciting. In fact, half the time, I just find real stuff about the real me: my name listed on the Dean's Honour Roll, old news stories I wrote, etc. Nothing of interest.
However, this time, I found something fun. I found ANOTHER Miranda MacDonald! She's a radio host from Scotland! And on her website there was a section where you could send her a comment. So naturally, I jumped at this opportunity.
I didn't expect her to reply really. But she did and encouraged me to listen to her radio show online (which, incidentally, plays all Celtic music) and call her radio show and say hi should I ever be in Scotland.
Its weird to think there's another person in this world with the same name as me. I liked to think I was unique. Guess not.
My search also came up with something else interesting: Miranda's Mirandafest page. This rather boring looking site actually contained some really interesting information about Miranda and every variation of the name. I learned about:
The Miranda Rights
Miranda as the Fifth Moon of Uranus (I don't want to hear any jokes about this one!)
The origin of the name Miranda
The town of Miranda in Spain
Nicknames and variations of the name Miranda
Etc, etc, etc.
I encourage everyone to search their own name. If nothing else, it was a good way to kill some time at work.
However, this time, I found something fun. I found ANOTHER Miranda MacDonald! She's a radio host from Scotland! And on her website there was a section where you could send her a comment. So naturally, I jumped at this opportunity.
I didn't expect her to reply really. But she did and encouraged me to listen to her radio show online (which, incidentally, plays all Celtic music) and call her radio show and say hi should I ever be in Scotland.
Its weird to think there's another person in this world with the same name as me. I liked to think I was unique. Guess not.
My search also came up with something else interesting: Miranda's Mirandafest page. This rather boring looking site actually contained some really interesting information about Miranda and every variation of the name. I learned about:
The Miranda Rights
Miranda as the Fifth Moon of Uranus (I don't want to hear any jokes about this one!)
The origin of the name Miranda
The town of Miranda in Spain
Nicknames and variations of the name Miranda
Etc, etc, etc.
I encourage everyone to search their own name. If nothing else, it was a good way to kill some time at work.
My Name is Not Randy
I've always wanted a nickname. I keep hoping that one of my friends will create one that sticks. Cathy sometimes calls me Mir, but she's the only one. Tina and I had some creative nicknames for each other when we were kids but we're likely to threaten violence should either of us bring up these names in public.
Lately, Graham and the rest of the guys from 21 Ezra have taken to calling me Randy. I made the unfortunate mistake one day of telling them that the actual abbreviation of Miranda is Randy. Of course, they all found this quite amusing and i've been unable to convince them to stop calling me that. However, it's kind of grown on me.
I also recently started calling myself Miranda Wackdonald. This is something I made up while intoxicated no doubt. I thought I was really clever. It only took me 22 years to discover that Mac and Wack rhyme.
I like to play this game at bars sometimes. It's a name game. When I have no desire to meet anyone, I just make up a different name every time someone asks me. Once, I actually told someone my name was Randy-Rae and they beleived me. I've even tried such names as Winter, Lauralee, Polina, Ariel and Mary-Jane. Most people never believe my name is Mary-Jane... probably because I can't say it with a straight face.
Really though, Miranda is a nice name. I've never hated it.
Lately, Graham and the rest of the guys from 21 Ezra have taken to calling me Randy. I made the unfortunate mistake one day of telling them that the actual abbreviation of Miranda is Randy. Of course, they all found this quite amusing and i've been unable to convince them to stop calling me that. However, it's kind of grown on me.
I also recently started calling myself Miranda Wackdonald. This is something I made up while intoxicated no doubt. I thought I was really clever. It only took me 22 years to discover that Mac and Wack rhyme.
I like to play this game at bars sometimes. It's a name game. When I have no desire to meet anyone, I just make up a different name every time someone asks me. Once, I actually told someone my name was Randy-Rae and they beleived me. I've even tried such names as Winter, Lauralee, Polina, Ariel and Mary-Jane. Most people never believe my name is Mary-Jane... probably because I can't say it with a straight face.
Really though, Miranda is a nice name. I've never hated it.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Am I a Hyper-Optimist?
Absolutley not. So why did I call this blog Some Kind of Wonderful?
It's the title of this moderatley lame Huey Lewis song (as I'm sure you're aware) and it happened to be playing at the time this blog was created.
I know it's lame but I like this song. It's happy and fun. Simple and honest.
Yeah.... it's a great title. It makes me smile.
It's the title of this moderatley lame Huey Lewis song (as I'm sure you're aware) and it happened to be playing at the time this blog was created.
I know it's lame but I like this song. It's happy and fun. Simple and honest.
Yeah.... it's a great title. It makes me smile.
Finally.
Finally. After much delay and procrastination, I've started a blog. High fives for my stellar initiative. Its been a mere 12 months in the making.
Lots of people think blogs are stupid, my mother included. But I don't care. I want a place to just write again. I forget what its like to just write for the sake of writing. I've actually sort of lost touch with my own handwriting. Spending countless hours each day typing on a keyboard and staring at a computer screen has seriously destroyed my ability to write with a pen and paper. Sometimes I actually forget how to form certain letters. Yes folks, it's that bad.
And its not about just writing, its about writing what I WANT to write. For four years now, I've been writing stale, academic essays in strict and relatively uncreative styles. I forget what it's like to just write freely again. I miss it.
So here it is ladies and gentlemen, my first blog entry.
Lots of people think blogs are stupid, my mother included. But I don't care. I want a place to just write again. I forget what its like to just write for the sake of writing. I've actually sort of lost touch with my own handwriting. Spending countless hours each day typing on a keyboard and staring at a computer screen has seriously destroyed my ability to write with a pen and paper. Sometimes I actually forget how to form certain letters. Yes folks, it's that bad.
And its not about just writing, its about writing what I WANT to write. For four years now, I've been writing stale, academic essays in strict and relatively uncreative styles. I forget what it's like to just write freely again. I miss it.
So here it is ladies and gentlemen, my first blog entry.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
