It's Not Easy Being Green

In honour of Earth Day - or Earth Week as we're calling it - a committee I'm on in my company is posting an earth-related article every day on an internal blog. Today, we had a great post from an employee and passionate environmentalist about Community Right to Know legislation. I wanted to link to her post but unfortunatley, it's internal-only so I stole the content and have posted it here for your reading pleasure. She tells a real personal and moving story about how toxins have affected her life..... definitely worth reading. So in honour of Earth Day, I bring you... someone elses' writing.

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Last year I turned forty-eight. That birthday is more significant than forty was, or fifty will be. Why? My Mom died of cancer at forty-eight years of age. Four years later, my Dad died of cancer. Two years later the dog died of cancer. I said to the vet, “I didn’t know dogs could get cancer.” He replied – “We’re seeing more and more of it.”

Eight years later I found out that the industrial land behind my home was being cleaned because it was contaminated. There is a chain link fence separating my backyard from the industrial property. We always had a small vegetable garden. I stopped eating the vegetables and I never planted another one.

My grandparents on both sides of the family lived to their 80’s and 90’s. My Dad’s siblings lived into their 80’s, my Mom’s are in their 70’s and going strong. Both sets of grandparents smoked, as did my aunts and uncles. The most obvious difference – my parents lived in the Town of New Toronto. It is in South Etobicoke, a neighbourhood located along the shores of Lake Ontario between Kipling Avenue and Royal York Road.

In New Toronto, our near neighbours were CIL, Gilbey’s Gin, Goodyear, Continental Can, Anaconda Steel, Dominion Colour, Pittsburgh Paints, National Silicates, Cognis/Henkel, CN Rail and Campbell Soup. We lived three doors down from the rail line and just south of the Gardiner highway. To this day, I have no idea what they emit. Community Right to Know legislation would change that.

I once said to my Dad, “You’re a smart man – why did you start smoking?” He said, “It was a healthful pursuit, the pass time of gentlemen. The Duke of Windsor smoked, so did Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. We didn’t know any better.”

Now we know better, and we have the right to know. We have the right to know what is in the air we breathe, the water we drink, bathe and play in, and in the soil we grow our food in, build our homes on and use for recreation. We have the right to know when we are exposed to toxic substances that harm our health.

Currently, that right is not protected by industry or government in our cities, provincially or federally. Toronto Public Health is considering a Community Right to Know Bylaw, also called the Environmental Reporting and Disclosure Program. http://www.toronto.ca/health/hphe/enviro_info.htm

Toronto Public Health has identified twenty-five toxic chemicals that are released into Toronto’s air at levels that are a risk to health. http://www.toronto.ca/health/hphe/enviro_info_1.htm

Nine high-risk carcinogens (cancer –causing substances) are in our air at unhealthy levels. Annually, approximately 7,000 tonnes of toxic chemicals are released into Toronto’s air land and water.

Under current legislation less than 3% of companies are required report the substances they emit to the National Pollution Registry, information the public has access to. http://www.secrecyistoxic.ca/adPDF/Accessing%20Pollution%20Release%20Reports.pdf

There are approximately 11,000 businesses in the City of Toronto that release toxins. Across Ontario and Canada polluters are not required to tell their neighbours who live and work beside them what harmful substances they are exposing them to. Over 80% of emissions into Toronto’s air are not reported to the National Pollution Registry.

A Community Right to Know bylaw would ensure public access to environmental information that is user-friendly, relevant, reliable and available in layman’s terms. The public would be able to access and understand information on the use, storage, transportation, and disposal of hazardous substances, quantities being released into the environment (air, water and soil), and the potential adverse effects of each substance on health and the environment.

You may ask yourself, “ How will it help my family and me if the City of Toronto passes a Community Right to Know bylaw, when I don’t live in Toronto?” Good question. Remember a little program that started in Etobicoke in 1977 called “Reduced Impaired Driving in Etobicoke”? Today it’s called R.I.D.E. – Reduced Impaired Driving Everywhere, and it operates province-wide, all year long. Eugene, Oregon and New York City, Massachusetts and New Jersey have Community Right to Know legislation in place, and that started with one community.

In May 2006 the provincial Smoke-Free Ontario Act prohibited smoking in enclosed workplaces and public places to protect workers and the public from the “pollution” of second-hand smoke. The laws for companies who pollute the air we breathe, water we drink and the soil we live on do not ensure we know about emissions like lead, mercury and formaldehyde. Why aren’t industries that emit harmful toxins, which pollute our environment, held to the same standards and laws that a neighbour, friend or family member lighting a cigarette is governed by?

Industries are concerned Community Right to Know legislation is an attack on them. That is not true. They are worried it will cost them money and profit. If your workers and consumers are getting sick – that will not increase your profits. Industries that are leaving North America, are not leaving because of the threat of a Community Right to Know bylaw. Everyone understands we need industry – we all need and want jobs.

No one wants to shut industry down or force them to move. My Dad worked at Goodyear, they put food on our table for forty-two years, and I try to buy Goodyear products whenever I can.

Did working at Goodyear contribute to my Dad’s cancer and death? I’ll never know. Government, industry and the public have adversarial relationships. We need to change the way we interact. The Community Right to Know bylaw is the future. A future where government, industry and communities partner and work together to make changes for the better of everyone.

It won’t be easy but it is necessary. The future needs to begin now. Please support Toronto Public Health’s Community Right to Know – it is a small step to make the world a healthier place for all of us. If you want to take action by reducing toxins and chemicals in your home, find guides to safe alternatives or learn how to support Community Right to Know. Check out this link: http://www.secrecyistoxic.ca/right_to_know.php

'Tis the Season...

... the patio season that is! Ahhh, yes. The sweet smell of Spring and patio season is upon us and I couldn't be happier. The pub across the street recently set up their outdoor patio set and it was like I'd just received a birthday present....only this present will last until September... maybe even October if we're lucky. The weather is hovering around the 10 degree mark these days but I could still be convinced to go for a pint on a patio - even if I have to wear my winter coat. :)

Too Much of a Good Thing

The meaning of my name is, "to be admired" so I suppose it's somehow in my nature to draw people to me. This is not to say that I have throngs of desperate admirers, chasing me around like the paparazzi but I do certainly seem to have a knack for easily attracting people. This of course, is not a problem. The problem, I think, is when this attraction - or admiration as the case may be - stops being flattering and becomes totally creepy. Of course, it's wonderful when people appreciate you and admire the things you do but I think this is one case where too much of a good thing can produce the total opposite of the intended effect.

It's kind of like that saying: "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." I disagree. I think imitation is kind of creepy. There are better ways of showing someone you like them than copying them. I would also say there are better ways of showing admiration for someone than drowning them with over-the-top compliments. Yes, it's true. You can actually love too much. The Beatles may say, "all you need is love," but I say you need to spread it around, not lay it on so thick - otherwise, you may come off as obsessive and weird and although not intended, you may actually drive people away.

This was perhaps a little too deep for a Saturday afternoon post. Perhaps I've been dipping a little too heavily into the cold and flu drugs today.

Canada-land

I've said it a million times: "Remind me again WHY I live in Canada?!" I'm especially vocal about this when I've just come back from some idyllic tropical vacation or I catch a glimpse of some southern weather forecast. It's a balmy -15 today here in Toronto with a windchill of up to -30 and as I walked through the windtunnel that is the parking lot of my building, I cursed Canada for being so bitter and ugly outside in the winter time.

Recently though, I had this real moment of patriotism. This moment where I thought, yes, THIS is why I live in Canada.

It was Family Day weekend, the first of a wonderful new winter long weekend in Ontario. We were at a friend's cottage in Muskoka. We were with a big group of friends decked out in winter gear, wearing snowshoes and trodding along a frozen Bass Lake. We had beer. We had a fire pit. We made an igloo and it was one of those perfect winter days - no wind, a quite tolerable -8 and so sunny you need sunglasses to see through the glare on the mountains of white snow. As I stood there in my snoeshoes on the frozen lake, beer in hand, I looked around and thought, wow, we really couldn't be more Canadian, could we? And funny as it was to me at the time, I also realized that nowhere else in the world, could we play on top of the lake and in it all in the same year.

This is why I like living in Canada.

So next time my face is burning in pain from a 4o below blast of arctic wind and my lips are so numb I can barely speak, I'm going to try really hard to remember that moment.

And besides, only 2 more months till Spring ;)

Alone

Let me just state it for the record: I hate being alone.

I get to work from home occasionally, which I realize, sounds awesome. People who don't have this option probably think it sounds like a pretty cushy luxury. I did too and I especially hated when I "wasn't allowed" to work from home when I first started this job. Being given the freedom to stay home on days where the weather is bad or I have an appointment downtown is great, don't get me wrong. But what isn't great, is being completley and utterly alone all day. Just me and my computer. Not one human interaction all day. It's lonely and the day drags forever. I literally cannot work from home more than two days in a row or I go nuts. I have a typical case of cabin fever or something.

It's funny actually, you'd think I'd be better at being alone. I'm an only child and spent countless hours alone growing up. I lived alone for over a year as I was finishing my degree and that never seemed terribly depressing. But now it seems, more than 24 hours of nothing but my own self and my own thoughts is enough to turn me into a lunatic.

I saw this ad in a magazine about elder abuse. It showed this sad looking elderly woman sitting alone at her kitchen table drinking tea and looking thoughtfully off into the distance. The caption read something like, "She can't remember the last time she had company." How sad. I don't know why I brought that up actually. It's not like I, in any way, bear any similarities to a poor, lonely elderly woman. I guess lonliness is just really sad to me.... or something.

Bottom line: I like people.

Nothing But a Good Time

I have four weeks vacation this year and I'm trying to figure out the best way to maximize this time off.

Should I take it all as a chunk and do something awesome? Like travel to Australia? OR should I take it in bits and have four mini vacations? If I take it all at once and something cool pops up later, will I regret it?

Hmmm....

Suggestions welcome.

We're All Human

Sometimes we get caught up in this machine-like productivity we call work. We relentlessly plough toward a goal, often treating our fellow coworkers as means to an end. But then, when something like a medical emergency or death occurs, it suddenly becomes clear: we're all human. We're all alarmingly alike. Just people. I think I forget this on a regular basis.

I've been powering through reviews and edits to put together a big announcement for next week. I was getting increasingly frustrated when my contact was not returning my email or voicemails. Late last night I received an email from him saying he was rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night for immediate surgery. It was a total reality check. Really puts your priorities in order.

This guy must have sent this email via BlackBerry from his hospital bed and claimed he'd be back in the office today. A bit overly optimistic I think but his dedication was impressive.

Clearly his health is more important than our collaboration on this announcement. The world will not stop turning if this has to wait a week or two.

Delinquent Blogger...

It's funny - with so much talk in my line of work about the importance of new social media tools like blogs and podcasts, you'd think I'd realize that if I don't update this thing every now and again, the very few dedicated readers I have are going to lose interest. We have several blogs at work, some internal, some external. We're starting a new one in a couple weeks that will be maintained by the PR team and since the brainstorming stages, we talk at nauseum about the importance of regular updates to maintain reader interest. Anyways....

So, I said I'd post an update on my study. Well, hypothesis was partly correct. Although I didn't acheive any enormously noticeable results physically, I feel better overall. I have more energy, I sleep better and I generally feel healthier. I must have toned up some areas or moved weight around because even though my overall weight remained the same, my clothes fit differently. Definitley more room in the middle! And most amazingly, my mom actually commented on some muscle definition in my arms while we were lounging pool-side in Mexico last week. :) So there you have it folks, 8 weeks of exercise really does do something.

I do plan to continue this into the new year but with a new goal. I think that I may, after much procrastination, attempt to train for a triathlon with Tina this summer. Tina, are you reading this?? I'm serious here.

On an unrelated note, I'd like to pay my respects to 2007. Although I'm not sure it compares to 2006, I'd say overall, it was pretty good. Got some travelling in - Dominican Republic, NYC, Manitoulin Island and Mexico. I moved twice, finally establishing myself in the once-terrifying downtown Toronto. And probably most importantly, I think I found my niche, career-wise and that in itself is a big, giant accomplishment. Cathy and I had a nice trip down memory lane the other night checking out the Facebook pictures we've posted or been tagged in over the last 12 months and it was a great way to focus on all the great times of the past year. Thanks 2007 :) You were good to me.
And with that, I leave you with my favourite picture from New Years Eve in Ixtapa, Mexico.
Nothing says, "Happy New Year," like the YMCA!!

'Tis the Season

(I started this post on Dec. 14 and never finished it. I decided today (Jan. 8/08), I'll post it anyways)

I love all the festive gatherings this time of year. I love the Christmas inspired pub crawls and parties and I love the more formal company holiday parties.

I love the smell of pine needles outside the grocery store where all the Christmas trees are waiting to be bought. If my apartment were bigger, I'd have a tree.

Exercise and the Human Body: A Preliminary Study

So I'm trying this new thing: exercising regularly. I'm determined to stick to it this time and so far, three weeks in to "Operation: Get Fit," all is rolling along nicely. I attend several classes at the gym per week, each of which is different and good in it's own way. I basically go as much as my schedule will allow and I'm also making a concerted effort to eat healthier and drinking loads of water.

My goal in all of this is not to lose weight as one might predict. No, it's simply to see if this continued, regular exercise has an detectable results; either internal or external.

Typically, I exercise sporatically. Randomly and irregularly. I'm interested to see what an 8 week period of regular, consistent exercise does to me. This is an experiment in myself.

My hypothesis is that despite this new trend in activity, I will not notice any real results either in the way I look or feel. Perhaps a slight to moderate improvement in stamina and strength but nothing perceptible to anyone but me. I hope to be proven wrong. I hope that the results will be so wonderfully dramatic that I'll relinquish a life of sloth and bad eating and be a master of health. We'll see...

I'm determined to stay on track for the sake of the experiment.

I have determined the end date of this experiment as the day I depart for a week of sloth and excessive drinking at a resort in a TBD location. I do however, plan to continue exercising at this gym into the new year.

I'll post a conclusion on the results, if any, prior to my departure.

I Love Halloween

I hope I never feel too old/cool/unmotivated to dress up on Halloween. I stand by my recent claim that I think I like Halloween more than Christmas. It really should be a holiday.

Homecoming

I was in such a hurry to finish school and get a real job. And now that I've been done for over a year and working, all I can think about is how much I'd love to do it all over again.

Laurier Homecoming over the weekend definitley left me feeling a little nostalgic for those days gone by. Man, I miss being a student. I felt like a bitter, middle-aged woman berrating Graham's little brother at the bar about how he should stay in school as long as possible. "Don't be in a rush to graduate," I remember practically yelling in his face. With a pang of jealousy, we all went on and on about how the next four years were going to be the best of his life. "Yeah, I guess it'll be fun..." he replied nodding. He has absolutley no idea. He probably thought we were all insane! Oh to be 18 again. There's so much I'd do differently and about an equal amount I'd do just the same. Wow, I really sound old don't I?

This is not to say that I look back on the weekend with any sadness. Quite the opposite actually. It was really great getting together with everyone in Waterloo. It was great knowing that no matter where I went, I was bound to bump into someone I hadn't talked to in ages. We rocked out to the live band at the Fox, just like it was first year and I was there drinking for the 10th consecutive Thursday in a row. Graham performed a stunning rendition of Monster Mash two nights in a row entertaining an eclectic crowd of Silver Spur clientele. We went to the football game and saw about 7 mins of football, focusing our efforts on drinking as many cans of beer as we could successfully carry at one time. We ate breakfast at Bennys, we had a drink at Morty's and probably most amusing, we went back to 22 Hickory and had a drink with the new people that live there. A penguin lawn ornament was borrowed and defaced, people were "asked" to leave a campus drinking establishment, the Moses Springer pool had some end-of-season, late-night swimmers and the Comfort Inn is left busy cleaning up the area outside our rooms that looks more like a trailer park than a hotel.

So maybe we've all grown up a bit but certainly, if the weekend proved anything at all, it's that we can all still party like it's frosh week!

Till next year...

My 15 minutes of fame

Our building is having the Designer Guys from HGTV renovate our lobby and party room. As part of the renovation, they've planned wall of black and white photography and have asked tenants to contribute prints for consideration. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity and submitted 18 photos. The flower above was one of them. I'm hoping they select some for the wall. It would be like some sort of validation that I maybe do have an ounce of photographic talent. If not, I'll actually be terribly dissapointed.

Comments welcome. But be nice.

Hurry Up and Wait

This has become my tagline today. I've done all I can do. I've crossed the T's, dotted the I's, hell I even had these things done early but all for naught. Whenever I'm proactive, there's always got to be someone else dragging their heels. The worst part is, I'm the one that ends up looking like the screw-up. Hey folks, I'm just the middle man here. It's not my fault someone else is an idiot.

Someone once told me, the problem with the world is people. Usually, I'd disagree. Generally, I like people. But today, I couldn't agree more. Today, people suck.

To remedy my frustration, I'm going to go to the mall to buy something shiny... Yes, I realize how trivial and materialistic this makes me seem but tomorrow's pay-day and I don't care.

In other news, I won an award at Toastmasters yesterday. I won the "Most Enthusiastic Club Member" aka "Biggest Keener in the Club" Award. As if being in Toastmasters alone doesn't make me nerdy enough already! Anyways, that's one of those corny claims-to-fame I can put on my resume and I got a nice ribbon and Starbucks gift card out of the deal so I can't complain.

I’m sad summer’s over. It went by too quickly and I don’t have near enough cool stories about fun things I did. A small handful, but nothing compared to last year. Anyone reading my blog on any sort of semi-regular basis would probably think my life has slowed down a lot since last year. That makes me sad. Is that what happens when we get older? Time speeds up and fun slows down? This is a pretty bleak outlook on things.

This is a totally random post. I make no apologies.

Lost

I hate being lost. In fact, several years ago I had an almost a paralyzing fear of going anywhere I was unfamiliar with because the fear of getting lost was just too great. I missed out on a lot of opportunities to visit friends in other cities simply because I was too scared to venture off to anywhere I'd never been before. I've since gotten over much of that fear but even now, I am really uncomfortable not knowing where I'm going, particularly when I'm by myself.

Living in Toronto, I find myself lost on a very regular basis but I really try not to let it restrict me from doing fun things. Last night I had an opportunity to visit a local drinking establishment and not surprisingly, I found myself lost in some area of the city I'd never been before while trying to make my way to the bar. I asked several people for directions. All were unhelpful.

While standing at an intersection looking quizzically around me for some indication of the direction of my destination, a older man, in his late 50's or early 60's, approached me and asked where I was going. I told him the street name and he told me I was going the wrong way. He told me directions and I must have looked confused because he said, "Actually, let me just walk you there. It's not far." Oh terrific, I thought. I'm probably going to get raped and mugged by some old creep in an alley somewhere. I found myself instinctively feeling around my purse for the location of my pepper spray. I told him it was not necessary to walk with me. I was sure he had somewhere he must be going and far be it for me to cause him to go out of his way. But he insisted.

As we walked, he began telling me that he was a retired hotel concierge and cab driver. He said he knew the city well and liked helping people find things. That's exactly what I'd tell some young, blonde girl lost on the street corner if I were a psychopath, I thought. As he walked next to me, I listened uncomfortably as he rattled on about his favourite areas of the city and the places that used to be popular when he was my age. He asked my name and where I was from. I reluctantly told him while plotting an escape route in my head should things turn sour. We continued walking. I blindly followed him thinking that he could be leading me anywhere and here I was following like some naive child being lured away by the temptation of a bag of candy.

We reached the destination which to be honest, I likely wouldn't have easily found without his direction. He extended his arm in a friendly handshake to part ways and I awkwardly thanked him for his help. Turns out he really was just some guy with nothing to do who just genuinely wanted to help. I immediatley felt bad for judging him so harshly. But you never know. We're programmed to be suspicious of strangers, and not without good reason.

At least I'll know how to get to this place next time.

Canada Day in the Nation's Capital

What better way to spend a first time visit in Ottawa than on Canada Day? I knew the trip would be a lot of fun but it greatly exceeded my expectations.

Boy was I obnoxious. Get me in a group of fun girls, with no obligations and a ton of booze and it's like a whole new me - one that lacks those moments of internal monologue where you ask yourself whether what you're doing is okay, or illegal... ;)

So I'd like to document the weekend with some stats:

- 10+ hours of driving
- 2 great road trip companions
- 100's of fun songs on the iPod
- 1 visit with Lucky Ron
- 3 VERY hot boys

- 1 severely damaged ego (not ours)
- 2 stolen Canada Day flags
- 1 foiled dine and dash
- 4+ lost friends

- 1 temper tantrum
- 1 illegal entry into the bar
- 3 injuries
- 1 shoulder ride atop a random tall guy
- 1 bottle of expensive champagne
- 2 emergency washroom situations
- 1 experience of local art and culture
- 1 revelation about plaid
- 5 very unhealthy meals
- 1 broken camera
- Many games of in-the-bar flip cup

- 1 lost bottle of gin (later found)
- 0 parking tickets
- 2 brutal hangovers

...and countless fun memories :)

Special thanks to the hostess Danielle for letting us invade her home and make rude comments about her roommates we never met.

Till next year.....

Signs

On my drive along the Gardiner every morning, I notice this Inglis Home Appliance sign that has a digital marquee scrolling along the bottom of it. The message on this sign changes daily and is usually some inspirational quote or thought of the day about wisdom, positive thinking, forgiveness or justice. I like looking at this sign as I creep by in the morning traffic.

But for some reason yesterday the sign said: "Wishing Everyone a Happy Easter."

What the hell? I was confused and dissapointed.

I think the sign operator had a few too many the night before. I think someone probably got fired today.

Delusions of Grandeur

The CEO's of large companies are often these elusive figures you never get a chance to meet. You see them in the news, hear their voices on webcasts or read emails they may have written but a face-to-face meeting is not something an entry level employee like myself ever gets to do.

So imagine my delight when I found myself sharing an elevator with the CEO of my company the other day. I had just returned from purchasing some sushi for lunch and as I travelled up to the fourth floor of my building, the door of the elevator opened up on the second floor to reveal the big man himself. I recognized him instantly. I see his face in the media almost daily. He was taller than I imagined and looked friendly and approachable. As he stepped into the elevator, I felt comfortable saying hello and introducing myself. He asked where I worked and how long I'd been with the company and as we shook hands, I had a glimpse of my future as some ultra important C-level business woman shaking hands with men and women of his status on a daily basis. As I got off the elevator, I felt pleased about the meeting. When I got back to my desk, I bragged about my random encounter like a kid who'd just met Santa Claus. :) I'm sure it's not a sign of great things to come but being able to have the undivided attention of your company's CEO, even for a mere 15 seconds, definitley can't be a bad thing.

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I'd also like to wish my blog a belated happy 1st birthday. My blog celebrated it's one year anniverary on June 14. I'm pleased to have stayed (semi) committed to maintaining this thing for a whole year.

Can You Smell What the Mac is Cookin'?

I received the following email from a former RIM coworker after he asked if I had seen the new BlackBerry. I said no adding that all the people here have these old school ones and walk around thinking they're so tech savvy. It's ridiculous. I responded that I felt like taking their vintage BlackBerry's and shooting them around the office like hockey pucks to which he responded with the following dialogue:


Miranda: "Ooooo, a 7250... aren't you the clever clogs!"

"Get a grip, man! The 7250 is, like, 4 years old! Maybe 5! If you can't keep up, get out! And if you want your piece of crap device back, check the dumpster after work. 'Course, I'm nuking it while I rant, so you might wanna just let it go. 'Specially after I get finished playing ringette down the West Mall with the thing. And stop crying! God, you're pathetic!"

Miranda, upon noticing that everyone's staring with eyes as big as dinner plates and their chins on the floor: "And what are you all looking at? Get back to work! And clean up that coffee spill, Gus, you look like a slob."


Hilarious. (Thanks Ian)

Ode to Lou

For some reason, I always called her Granny. You know how kids all have different names for Grandma and Grandpa? Like Oma and Opa, Gramma and Grandad or like one person I knew, Baba and Gigi. Well, for some reason, they were always Granny and Gramps to me.

She died on Monday night at the age of 85. This wasn't terribly shocking to me. She'd been in the hospital for a month prior after a near heart failure and that experience really sucked out whatever life was left in her. She had advanced stages of Alzheimer's or some other form of dementia. Last time I visited her, I doubt she even knew who I was.

We're not having a funeral and being rational, I understand why. But this really unsettles me. Someone lives for 85 years and there's absolutley nothing to acknowledge this? She just dies alone in a nursing home and that's it? I feel like there should be some closure.

Despite the fact that even in her earlier years, she was a very odd lady, I always remember her being a decent grandmother when I was a kid. She used to steal those jam or honey packets from McDonald's and then give them to me out in the yard or in the car to eat when my parents would never let me eat them. Not sure what the allure was in eating plain jam but for some reason I thought it was some awesome and delicious act of rebellion coordinated by my grandmother.

Her and my grandfather spoiled me rotten. For Christmas, I'd pick out anything I wanted and it was mine, no questions asked. I'd shop around in the mall selecting all the items I liked and then drag along my poor grandparents to each store to make the purchase. They always seemed happy to do it and my grandma really got no greater joy than pleasing me with presents.

She used to make these shortbread cookies that I loved as a kid. She knew I loved them and every time we'd visit, she'd have one of those old-school cookie tins filled with them.

They used to spend their winters in Victoria and I loved visiting as a kid. Every morning we'd walk around a giant pond and feed swans and geese with bread crusts. She always complained that the walk was too exhausting but came anyways because she needed her "exercises."

She had a real sweet tooth. Her Christmas presents always consisted of several boxes of chocolate that she would polish off before noon. When we'd question her gluttony, she'd lie and say there were still some left. We knew better. The evidence was usually all over her hands and in her false teeth.

She had a very scattered mind which was probably an early indication of her later ailments but it often caused us much amusement. Once I found her out in our front yard holding a coffee cup in one hand, a metal coat hanger in the other and staring up at the sky. When I asked her what she was doing, she replied casually "Oh, just looking for my purse."

Her passing is not entirely sad. She was not really living a life anymore anyways. In fact, she really hadn't been living anything resembling life since my grandfather passed away 5 years ago. I know my mom and her never got along so there likely won't be any fond reminiscing about her next time I see my parents. I imagine we won't even talk about it. For me though, it's important that I acknowledge her life because she was the only grandmother I knew.

So to Granny - May she rest in peace :)
xoxoxox

Feedback

It seems like the harder I work, the more I screw stuff up. I keep telling myself it's because I'm still new at this PR stuff and I'm bound to make mistakes. It's really the only way to learn around here. I did something really dumb today and got a nice "you really fucked up" phone call on my cell all the way from Vegas. I hate feeling stupid and i'm feeling stupid a lot at work these days. I have really been busting my butt and the majority of the feedback I get is when i've screwed something up. I need to learn to have thicker skin. Criticism really gets to me. That's why I could never be a journalist. Turns out PR's not a hell of a lot different. Anyways, none of this is the end of the world and really, despite how many "you're an idiot" emails I get in a day, it's ones like this that motivate me to keep going:

"Thanks. They [my reports on our news coverage from the conference] are VERY helpful. While I have seen some of the news you capture, I haven't seen all of it ... and I truly appreciate it.

Thank you for adding me and keeping me posted.

Have a nice afternoon.

Colleen

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I've moved again and now have a nice sense of permanence and stability. Cathy is a super roommate. We get along great, laugh a lot and have the same irresistible attraction to wine. Shout out to Cathy for her 22nd bday yesterday and heads up for the housewarming set for June 16! Let the good times roll!

Miranda vs. The Landlord

I'm really starting to wonder if you have to be an asshole to be a landlord or if that's just a symptom of the job. Maybe it's a bit of both. In any event, I have had the absolute worst experiences with every landlord, property manager and superintendent I've had contact with since I started renting in 2003. I'm actually starting to wonder if it's me.

Take this week for instance. The super at my current building decides that he should restrict tenants access to the laundry room past 10 pm. I had three loads of laundry going around 9:30 and when I went to retreive them at 10:15, the door was locked. It wouldn't be a huge problem except it doesn't open again till 8:00 am and I leave for work at 7:30. I'm sure as hell not about to leave my literal entire wardrobe unattended all day long for any creep to come steal a nice bunch of second-hand, newly washed clothes. So I called him. Big mistake. He yelled and swore at me saying things like "Do you know how to read a f*cking sign?" "I make allowances for all my tenants why the f*ck should i make allowances for you?" etc, etc, etc... so after much begging and pleading, he agreed to open the laundry room with the guarantee that he is not to ever hear from me again. No problem!

You make stupid rules, expect to get stupid phone calls.

Or how about the ongoing Grand River Property Management issue I had with my friend PH after my basement apartment flooded twice, soaking the carpet with toilet water and ruining the contents of my closets. After several formal letters and zero reimbursement, I'm to take his rationale that "because I live in a basement apartment, I should expect that it floods periodically." What a dick.

And then there was my all time favourite place at 98 Bridegport with Eleanor and Graeme; the sweet old British couple who turned out to be the biggest jerks of my renting experience. My car was blocked in daily in a parking spot that I paid for, they entered our house without permission on a regular basis, the basement also flooded several times and they refused to do any sort of maintenance including fixing the leaking roof or removing the squirrels that lived in the ceiling. That experience nearly ended in a court case. In the end, I left a month early and lost a month's rent just to avoid the constant bullshit.

And most recently, before I even move into my new home, I have problems with the super intendent. I called to proactively inform my new super of our move-in dates to which she informed me "were out of the question." Apparently, you can only move in on the dates and times that she approves. Well, that's fabulous. I have a very small window of opportunity where I can get time off work and people to help me move and she tells me it's not possible. Before i've even moved into this new place, we've already had three rather hostile phone conversations. In the end, I managed to smooth things over with my superiour negotiation skills and endearing personality and the conversation ended with her making some accomodations to suit my needs and her telling me to "remember around Christmas time that she likes red wine."

If you're a super, you should expect to have tenants calling you regularly about issues. Why do they act like it's the biggest bloody inconvenience to have to do their job?! It's not like they didn't know what they were signing up for when they applied.

Clearly, my frustration is evident. I can't beleive I've had this neverevending landlord/tenant drama for almost 5 years. I'm really starting to wonder if maybe it's not them, it's me...

Time

It must be a sign that I'm getting older when the years start to seem shorter and shorter. Someone asked me at work the other day about school and I said "I just graduated last April..." Just? I suddenly realized that I graduated a year ago! I've been working full-time for the past year! A working adult for 12 months, working 9-5 every day of every week for an entire year. It was actually sort of shocking. I am definitley not a student anymore. Has it really not sunk in yet?

So as time creeps by quicker and quicker, I can't help but wonder if one day, I'll wake up elderly and reminisce fondly about "the good 'ol days" or a more frightening thought: maybe not be able to reminisce at all. Seeing my ailing grandmother in the hospital over Easter weekend was a really depressing indication of time. After 85 years on earth, her life is reduced to a chair with a table tray that holds her hostage because "she wanders." She is a literal shell of a human being with no awareneness of where she is or who's around her. It's terribly sad to see her like this. I like the vision of the elderly as old and wise with some innate knowledge about the world and a million stories and life lessons to tell. To live to 85 only to die like this is an awful tragedy. It comforts me some to know that she really lacks the mental capacity to feel sorry for herself. Her life is reduced to sleeping and eating.

In any event, I shouldn't be depressed about time at 23. Someone who's advice I greatly value once said: If you can't be happy now, you never will be - A simple but astute oberservation. I still have a lot of great years ahead. I'd like to continue with my rationale that I just keep getting better with age; like a fine wine.

Spring

No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. ~Proverb

The Many Faces of Yours Truly

Church Secretary

Yes, this woman and I likely share nothing in common except our name. She seems like a very wholesome, noble woman though.

Scottish Radio Host

The resemblance is uncanny. haha

And my all time favourite...

Fairy Princess

Yikes! I think the scariest thing about this is that she LIVES in the Toronto area. Imagine I ran into her?! Although I doubt that Snow White and I attend the same gatherings. She seems to frequent the 4-6 year old crowd ;)

There was in fact, a real reason I was google searching my name today. There's been a barrage of email and phone calls from random reporters pitching stories directly to me and my team lead wondered where they were getting my contact information. He suggested I search on Google. Turns out among my many talents, i'm also listed as a media relations contact on our company website. hah. News to me. ;)

On Coaching

Alas, my experience as an assistant coach of the Kitchener Wildcats has come to an end... and not without a high-stress, incredibly close, nail-biter of a final game. For that incredible effort, those kids deserved gold, but we'll have to settle for bronze. Even waking up at 6 am after less than 2 hours of sleep and semi-consciously speeding to Elora after missing my ride was worth it to see that win.

As much as I whined about the long drives and the often thankless effort on my part, I really did enjoy this experience. In retrospect, it was definitley worth it. I'm not sure that my presence on this team will have any lasting impact on these kid's lives, but they've certainly made a mark in mine.

Here's a copy of the speech I said at the appreciation dinner.

******************************

I've let Joe do most of the talking this season so I wanted to take this opportunity to share my experience coaching this team. I played ringette for 11 years and I'll never forget a coach who, at the end of the year during our appreciation dinner, would stand up and give this long-winded, hour-long speech about the team, going girl by girl and highlighting everything from unforgettable goals to unfair penalties to injuries. We all hated it. And ironically, when I sat down to write something about this team, I started doing the same thing. It's hard not to when you have such great memories about each player on this team. You'll all be pleased to know that I tossed that speech out the window and I promise to keep this short and sweet.

First let me just say what an incredible bunch of girls these are. I feel lucky to have had the privelege to get to know each of them over the past 8 months. It's pretty amazing to look back and remember what their first game was like after watching them win the bronze in that fantastic final game against Guelph on Sunday. I couldn't be more proud. This team had several first time players and huge variety of skill levels. I'll never forget the first game where I told one of the girls, "Okay, you're left wing" and she looked back at me with utter confusion and asked: "What's a wing?" It's been a really satisfying experience for me to watch this group of girls go from a disorganized bunch of skaters to a really sucessful ringette team.

One thing I noticed right away about this team is their sportsmanlike attitude which is incredibly admirable. There was never any animosity or fighting between the girls. They played as a team and helped each other do well and it paid off. They're a happy, energetic and genuinely nice group of girls that were never discouraged with a loss.

Having moved to Toronto mid-season for a job opportunity I really put this team in a tough position and I'd like to thank everyone for bearing with me in the last four months. Thanks to the moms that stood in for me when I couldn't make it, thanks to Frank for dealing with the paperwork and the administrative stuff and thanks to Joe and Jay for keeping me in the loop on tournaments and games. Thanks also to the girls for welcoming me back after a mysterious 4-week absence as I got my self settled in Toronto.

Being a part of this team has been an absolutley unforgettable experience. I wouldn't have made weekly trips from Toronto and gotten up at the crack of dawn to attend their games if I didn't totally love being there. Beleive me, there's not a lot of things in this world that can get me out of bed before 6:00 am. You've inspired me to seek out a Toronto local team and play again. As much as I loved being a coach, I think i'm a player at heart.

So thank you for this opportunity. It's been fun. Best of luck in your future ringette seasons!!

Retiring Early

Historically, I haven't been very good with money. I frivolously spent what little money I had, I did a really poor job of tracking my finances and the words "RRSP" and "investing" likely never entered my vocabulary. Consequently, I became a really easy target for theft. And it cost me.

Now you'd think having gone through something like that would have motivated me to get a handle on my finances and start changing some bad practices into wiser, financial choices. But no. I really didn't change much. I was quite willing to live pay cheque to pay cheque and continue poor spending habits as long as when I hit OK on that debit keypad, it came back saying "Approved."

It really wasn't until this guy named Graham came into my life that I actually started to realize that I needed to make some changes. Making some small changes was by no means easy. It was hard to start distributing my money around into different accounts without feeling like i'd somehow lost some. i liked the feeling of seeing that lump sum all in one account. And of course, i'm pretty risk averse so the mere mention of some potential loss through investing scared me to death. I'm by no means an expert, nor am I anywhere close to a perfectly set financial future but I think the most important thing is that I'm thinking about it and trying to learn. I started an RRSP, I'm attending a Basic Retirement and Savings investment Course through work and I am much more dilligent about tracking my money through online banking.

I recently read this article in BusinessWeek about a couple who were able to retire in their late 30's after several years of smart saving and investing. Although this is rather unusual, its definitley been inspirational. Before i really cared about money, I thought that thinking about retirement when you're 23 was an utterly ludicrous idea. When Graham asked me where I saw myself in 30 years, I nearly burst out laughing. I have a hard time deciding what to wear in the morning let alone what my life might look like at 50. Anyways, turns out thinking about retirement in your early twenties really isn't a stupid idea at all. It's actually quite smart.

So when I'm a rich old lady, floating around on my yacht off the coast of some idyllic setting and sipping vintage wine out of fancy glasses, writing my memoirs, I'll remember to thank Graham. Without him, my financial future future might be in shambles. I'd likely need to hire some financial advisor and waste more money rather than saving any. At least Graham's advice comes for free ;)

Sleep

I've often said that bed time is my favourite time of day. Bed time, nap time, they're both great times... But lately, I haven't been getting very much sleep. Not by choice, just for various reasons of having to get up early and go places or for the simple fact that I just stay up too late. So last night, being the ultra cool person that I am, I decided to go to bed at 10:00 pm because I had nothing better to do and I figured a solid 9 hours would be good for me. So much for that theory. This afternoon, I feel more tired than I have in a long time. I just caught myself staring blankly at this complicaetd spreadsheet I'm creating. I'm attempting Graham's tried-and-true time wasting strategy of pretending to work while you're really just sleeping with your eyes open. The trick is to appear like you're really struggling to analyze the data in a spreadsheet, when in reality, you're really spacing out or pretty much alseep.

I mentioned my drowsiness to a coworker and she said that it's possible to actually be "over-slept." Apparently having too much sleep is just as bad as not enough. Go figure. What a fickle, silly thing sleep is. Ironically, I also heard on the radio on my commute to work this morning that a lack of sleep is cited as one of the major contributing causes in such disasters as Chernobyl and the Hubble space shuttle disaster. I heard this while driving on the 401 struggling to keep my eyes open... wishing I had a coffee.

****************

In other news, it's my dear cat Harley's 4th birthday today. I bought her some decadent cat food and some new treats and I made her a little birthday sign for above her cat bowls. I realize she neither notices nor cares and that this looks like the beginnings of insane-cat-lady-syndrome, but she's a cool cat and her birthday deserves to be recognized. I'm hoping Graham will come over later and sing "Happy Birthday" to her. :)

Moral Dilemma

Usually I like to limit the posts in this blog to my cheerful musings on my life or just light, fluffy writing about nothing in particular. When I was in the writer's club in high school, I used to roll my eyes at those girls that wrote nothing but angst-y, heart-wrenching poems about heartbreak and sadness. Arguably though, expressing these sadder emotions through writing is cathartic; an effective form of therapy I suppose. Often, these more intense emotions are the motivation to write.

So with that as an introduction, I feel compelled to write about my current moral dilemma.

My grandmother is sick. Well, sick is an understatement. She's dieing. She's in the hospital in the palliative care ward being treated for heart problems. Problems, they say, she will not recover from without an invasive surgery to install a pacemaker. The nurses actually told my mom that the humane thing to do is to "let her go." My first reaction upon hearing this news was to go home and see her at the first opportunity. However, my mom insists that I "don't bother." My grandmother has symptoms of a more advanced stage of Alzheimer's (or some form of dementia) and likely wouldn't recognize me or if she did, even remember that I had been there at all. I insisted that this isn't really the point. If I know she's dieing and I make no effort to go see her, what sort of human being am I? Yes, it's inconvenient to go all the way there and know that my effort won't even be recognized but does that matter?

My mom has an unusually callous attitude about the whole thing. The way she talks about the approaching death of her mother is so nonchalant, it's creepy. I realize that their relationship has never been good and in terms of love, there's not a lot there but again, I'm not sure this is the point.

So I'm torn.

But I'll need to make a decision soon because this is a seriously time sensitive issue. The thought of her dieing alone and confused in the hospital is awfully sad. It's hard to follow your gut and do what you think is right when your parents, the people you've looked to for guidance and advice all your life, are telling you to do the opposite. Ultimately, this isn't something I'd be doing for my grandmother, it's something I'd be doing for me

Random funnies from the Dominican...

We met some interesting characters in the Dominican, most notably, our friend from the market who seemed to think he was some ultra trendy hip-hop fan. He was hard to miss, with his oversized Eminem tshirt and his sideways black hat with enormous sequined letters on it. As we approached him, we noticed something odd about his attire. My cousin approached him and asked:

"Hey, what does your hat say?"

"Rrrrap-eh," he said proudly and began immitating some drum beats and dancing.

We tried to suppress our laughter as we looked at his hat that clearly said RAPE in huge sparkly letters.

"No," my cousin said. "Your hat says 'rape.' Do you know what that means?" She then explains that his hat is actually an English word that means forcing someone to have sex with you. I chuckle in the background the entire time.

Unphased, he continues his sales pitches to various tourists as they hurry past his booth. Evidently, his English was not all that great. We saw him the next day wearing the same hat. Hilarious.

***********

At the resort we stayed at, some of the staff would routinely bring around exotic animals for tourists to hold and have their pictures taken with. Later you were to seek out your photo and purchase it for some outrageous price. There were parrots and iguanas and a snake but most exciting was a tiny monkey! So naturally, when the monkey came around, my cousins and I decided we needed our photos taken. Being mature and patient, we let the little cousins go first - Shevonne who's 5 and Christianne, 10. Shevonne holds out her hands and they place the monkey in her arms. Adorable. The monkey looks as if it's nuzzling up to her face when, all of a sudden, it lashes out angrily and bites her near her eye! They grab the monkey out of her hands and apologize as she tries not to cry.

We should have known to stop there but Christianne steps up.

They place the monkey in her arms and same thing. The monkey bites her in the ear. They grab the monkey out of her arms claiming the monkey is "loco crazy, needs rest." We immediatley assume it has rabies.

Okay, we should have been concerned over our cousins saftey but it was utterly hilarious. Maybe it was the rum. Maybe you had to be there. I still chuckle about it when I think of the rabid monkey bites.

Needless to say, I never held the monkey

A blog post about... blogs

Between moving to Toronto and starting a new job, I somehow lost interest in this blog, as I'm sure anyone who ever read it also has. Maybe I've been too busy. Maybe I just don't have anything interesting to say.

At work lately, I've been doing a lot of blog tracking as a form of media analysis. Apparently blogs are much more influential in mainstream media than I give them credit for. We had a training session the other day on how PR can work with bloggers and it was evident that working with bloggers is becoming as important as working with reporters. However, one common thread running through all this was that it seems that both reporters and bloggers need to be spoon-fed a packaged story complete with quotes, pictures and all the information they need to start writing. They don't want to have to follow-up or confirm information. They don't want to have to call you or dig for the news element in a story. They want a one-stop shop or they're not interested. Their time, they say, is far too valuable to be wasted on pursuing vague story pitches or clarifying incomplete information.

Whatever happened to chasing the story? There seems to have been a serious shift in media since my days as a reporter. You have to give reporters the whole story, complete with catchy headline and hard-hitting quotes or they won't even bother.

While I'm on the topic of blogs, the main reason I was inspired to write anything at all today was because I came across an interesting quote in one of the more prominent blogs we monitor. The blogger was commenting on the new blog written by the CTO and was chastising him for not posting more regularly. Being a sporadic blogger myself, the following quote stuck with me:

"You can’t be afraid of making a commitment when you launch a blog. You’ve got to nurture it, tend to it, give it some love and attention and, most important, write on a fairly regular basis. Otherwise, it loses some of its energy and people will stop visiting. So, let’s get writing."

To be honest though, I didn't create this blog with the intention that it would have profound influence on the masses. I don't even really care if anyone ever reads it. I created it as a motivation for me to write. So far, I guess it hasn't been that successful. Apparently, in one month, the only thing I'm capable of producing is a blog post about...blogs.

Moving

I hate moving. Of all the change that just occurred, the actual move to Toronto was not something I was dreading terribly. In fact, I was excited to reorganize and purge all my junk I accumulated at my old place. I'd like to think I'm not a pack-rat but last week's move certainly proved otherwise. "How many mugs does one girl need?!" my new roommate asked as she unpacked strange mug #27 from the tenth box marked "Kitchen Stuff." I bombarded her home and filled it with my stuff and even breaking several things en route didn't seem to help control the clutter. 15 hours and many strained muscles later, it's become crystal clear to me: I have way too much stuff.

The move was long, arduous and much more exhausting than I ever anticipated. It was one of those days where everything takes 7 times longer than you anticipate. Everytime I looked at the moving truck, the boxes seemed endless and the more we brought into the apartment, the less convinced I was that I was ever going to fit it all in here. But somehow, everything found it's place... just don't look under my bed...or in the closet.

I have to give a huge shout-out to my moving team: my parents, Lindsay, Graham and especially Tina and Alicia. These girls gave up their entire day, strained their muscles, entertained my mom and basically kept me sane when my patience was wearing very thin. We learned that Tina basically has superhuman strength and can lift pretty much anything. We also learned that tropical fish can survive in a bucket for over 6 hours in the winter and I think Alicia and my mom are now BFF's (haha). I appreciate your help more than you know!

PS - I'm moving again May 1. ;)

Quote of the day

I was lamenting to a friend about my anxiety over all the upcoming change in my life and in an attempt to console me he said: "Just put your faith in the enthralling beauty of your soul." How ridiculous I thought. But a nice thing to say nonetheless.

He claimed that the quote spawned from a day-time cold medicine induced high so the sentiment was more from drugs rather than poetic genius. Nevertheless, I wrote the quote on a sticky note and smile every time I look at it.

2006: One hell of a year

Unlike 2005, I'm sad to put 2006 to rest. It was an absolutley great year for so many reasons.

I graduated, I travelled all over the world, I had a fabulous summer full of great parties and memories and I'm in a great relationship with someone who makes me happy. I also landed a job as a Media Relations Specialist which seemed like a total impossibility six months ago. Unlike 2005, I think I spent over 90% of 2006 being delightfully happy.

2007 scares me a little. Within the first few weeks of this year I'll have a new home, a new job, live in a new city with a new roommate. I'm pretty averse to change so all of this at once is pretty intimidating. Overall though, I'm excited. It's time to start my real career... but that also means I have to grow up. I was talking to a friend yesterday and he asked:

"So, is the year of the party over?"

No, I said, it will just be classier, more expensive parties.

"Oh," he said. "So no more keggers in the garage?"

"I guess not," I said and I was actually sort of sad about this.

Maybe we don't have to grow up just yet. I'm sure we can still go out, drink too much, act silly and abuse our bodies for a little while longer. Maybe we'll just buy more expensive beer. ;)

Christmas Chaos

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.

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 :)

You know you're Canadian when....

...The item obstructing the intersection and causing a minor traffic jam is a hockey stick.

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.

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 ;)

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.

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.

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 heart Fall

"Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn."

- Elizabeth Lawrence

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.

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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. :)

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?!

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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.

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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 ;)

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

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.

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.

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 :)

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 did not buy this shirt!

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.

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 :)

"What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance."

- Jane Austen

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. :)

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.

florescence

I like Photoshop :)

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 :)

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....