Me and Meanderings

Out with the Old

2011-10-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my 28th birthday.

For most people a birthday is a time of celebration, and while I have had celebratory birthdays, my birthdays have been first and foremost a time of contemplation. It's another year gone, the startling realization that I am now one year older, and a checkpoint in my life.

I wrote a blog entry years ago about my birthday.

Birthdays are:

1) An inventory of all your "real" friends vs. your "fake" friends. It's funny how a guy you dated 5 years ago sends you a MSN at midnight and says "Is it too early to wish you a Happy Birthday?" while people that enthusiastically claim to 'love me' don't even send me a Good Morning.

2) A status report on your current place in life, and if you've done everything youre supposed to do by such and such age, and then seeing a disturbing amount of checks in the "nope" column.

3) The sad resignation that you have no control over the events of this day in your life, and must meekly nod and smile when everyone assumes they know what you REALLY want to do.

4) The unsettling social commentary that most of your "gifts" are in bottles

Birthdays suck.

And I realized something. I am in complete control of these things. I don't need to surround myself by "fake friends". I need to start making more of an effort to check boxes in my "Yep" column.

So I did something I've often wanted to do, but never had the guts to. I purged my Facebook friends list last night, aided by a bottle of wine and the knowledge that most of these people wouldn't even notice.

It was the most liberating thing I've ever done on a birthday and I feel 50 friends lighter.

All Apologies

2010-03-11T12:57:00.000-08:00

For various reasons I've been slacking about keeping my blog up to date, and it's generally just because I've been busy doing all the stuff that's not fit to write about.

As a brief update, I put down my love of 9 years on February 8, 2010 - my beloved cat, Onye. She was suffering from liver failure, and as much as I wanted to justify dishing out the $1000+ it would take to stabilize her, I realized it was a selfish move on my part to prolong her anguish to serve my own companionship needs. The past month has proven to be especially difficult in regards to me emotions, but I feel like I see light on the other end of the tunnel.

On a plus note, I met a wonderful man who has been a great support system through the loss of my constant companion, as well as much of the work anguish I've been dealing with. It's also helpful that he's employed by the same company as me, so all the stories about "my day at the office" don't involve the anonymous, faceless subjects that they usually do.

I'm also happy to say I've switched departments and hope that despite the cut in hours, it does more to improve my attitude towards waking up every morning and making the trek to work. I wouldn't be lying if I said it hadn't been turning into a daily struggle, and the days that I did make it in were usually full of frustrations and headaches which was demotivating me more daily.

I do also have to make an effort at censoring more things about what I write here, because I have again had a reminder that people often take things more seriously than they should. While I view my blog as an outlet for my thoughts and a way of keeping in touch with those I (unfortunately) don't get to talk to enough, many people seem to view it as a way to keep tabs on me. It's unfortunate when things come to that, but I guess in a public forum you can't complain when people read what you write.

I promise to think of something more entertaining to talk about next time, but long-term readers know my patterns, and those are the people I care about.

I think the common thread is "Boys" and "texting" which means I am really 16, not 26

2010-01-28T13:56:00.000-08:00

Apparently there's this thing called Wordle where you can type in your blog url and they give you an artistic rendering of what your blog is all about.

Mine is (not surprisingly) boring.

I think it's mildly humorous that the first thing that stood out to me is that repercussions is spelled wrong. And yet, I bet given the opportunity I would type it repurcussions again and again.

In the absence of my two favorite EHOs or my friendly neighbourhood IT guy to email, I felt the need to blog to pass time, because I just finished a job interview and now feel like I have an adrenaline/nerve hangover.

And then there was lightly whipped mascarpone...

2010-01-19T10:17:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I dig it a little. But sometimes I wonder if people who get ironic tattoos ever think of the future and the potential repurcussions of getting something like, Oh, I don't know, the Flying Spaghetti Monster tattoed on the back of their leg. 9 out of 10 people I've made a reference to don't get it NOW, who is going to get it in 10 years?

Oh, noodly appendages.

Adventures in Dating Sites

2010-01-15T08:48:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to re-create a profile on a dating website. Not because I genuinely want to date anyone after the last 'relationship' but because it's always an easy way to meet new people. And I am still holding out hope that I am going to meet "someone cool" on one of these websites. Apparently I am still delusional.

My roommate created one a month or so ago and she's been having nominal success, but last night her sister and I sat down with her to browse through profiles and find men who seemed 1) hot, 2) reasonably intelligent and 3) sane. We found a few hits, but my personal favorite was one man who listed "sleeping" as one of his hobbies.

"Mmm, mine too", I replied, "followed a close second by a great bowel movement".

Her sister looks at me for a second to gauge whether or not I'm kidding and sensing no change in expression starts laughing hysterically.

I was so not joking, and I guess that's why I will never meet "someone cool" on a dating site. I'm far too honest.

Give up Your Latte Today

2010-01-15T07:20:00.001-08:00

And donate the $5 you would have spent to the Canadian Red Cross for the Haitian relief efforts.

It's so easy that I just did it from my desk at work. Canadians can donate $5 from any Rogers Wireless, Telus or Bell Mobility phone by texting HAITI to shortcode 45678. Donors receive a reply message asking them to confirm the donation with a YES reply. It is automatically added to your next bill with no service charges or added fees, although standard text messaging rates will apply.

Rogers wireless subscribers can also text the word "Help" to 1291 to donate $5 to Haitian relief efforts. One-hundred per cent of the donation will go to Partners in Health: Haiti and other relief organizations.

Americans can make $10 donations to the American Red Cross Society by texting "Haiti" to 90999. That code does not work in Canada.

Full Story Here, Here and Here for all the skeptics out there.

Do I Believe in Horoscopes?

2010-01-11T15:27:00.000-08:00

Darn tootin'!

Reading Fridays horoscopes for the weekend cemented this. For someone who felt like everyone's energy was off to read that on this past weekend not one star sign was exempt from a serious case of the grouchies, that was all I needed.

But today's kicker was this...

Cancer: Do you really want to punish someone for deeds they committed in the past? It may not be your right to judge others if no real harm was done. Try to show your empathic and sensitive side.

You know who you are.

Pee Your Pants

2010-01-08T12:34:00.000-08:00

I'm doing a short list of all the funny books I want to have opportunity to read (or re-read in some instances) over the next few months.

I feel like my life needs more laughter in it, and books by humorists definitely have the ability make you look at your life in a different, laugh-like-you're-stoned light.

Plus it gives me great fodder for further blog entries, because hey, the fact that you walked around all afternoon with a wad of gum stick to your leg is actually pretty hilarious.

Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea - Chelsea Handler

Lamb - Christopher Moore

Why Do Men Have Nipples?: Hundreds of Questions You'd Only Ask a Doctor After Your Third Martini - Mark Leyner and Billy Goldberg, M.D.

High Fidelity - Nick Hornby

Beauty Tips from Moose Jaw: Travels in Search of Canada - Will Ferguson

Not Tonight, Honey: Wait 'Til I'm a Size 6 - Susan Reinhardt

The Losers' Club: Complete Restored Edition! - Richard Perez

Sand in My Bra and Other Misadventures: Funny Women Write From the Road - Jennifer Leo

The Risks Of Sunbathing Topless: And Other Funny Stories From the Road - Kate Chynoweth

I Was Told There'd Be Cake - Sloane Crosley

Straight Up And Dirty: A Memoir - Stephanie Klein

I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence - Amy Sedaris

Stuff White People Like: A Definitive Guide to the Unique Taste of Millions - Christian Lander

I'm currently reading The End of the Alphabet by C.S. Richardson, and while it does nothing to curb the wanderlust, is an excellent book and highly recommended. So it begs the question -- what are YOU reading? AND since this is just a short list, I'm open to suggestions on what I should look into. Have I mentioned I ♥ Books?

Fighting the Battle of Who could care less

2010-01-07T13:45:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder why people even bother to get into relationships. Sure, there's the initial glow during the honeymoon phase, which all too quickly turns into obsessing over all-those-little-things-that-drive-you-batshit-crazy, which morphs into "What did I even see in you in the first place?" which crashes into the period I am in now -- "Who Cares Less?"

The basic premise of "Who Cares Less?" is that it's one giant game where you both pretend nothing the other person says or does bothers you, when in actuality everytime you talk you end up walking away uneasy about one thing or another. Not that the other person will ever (EVER) know until you decide to do what I'm doing now and just outright tell them. It's all the dumb little games where you send a text message to establish contact and then stop responding without saying goodbye. Where you call them up just to cut them off because you're so in demand you can't possibly take five minutes to hear what they have to say. Where you pretend you're both so nonchalant about everything, that everything in your world is so copacetic this is just the most minor of speedbumps in your road of life.

These are the games people play.

So why bother jumping into anything? Why not just date casually and see where things go and then maybe one day down the road you realize the person you've been seeing is everything you'd ever wanted in a mate and THEN (and only then) pursue a relationship? But why does everything need to be so reminiscent of high school, where the girl you like needs to become your steady girlfriend if she returns your affections? And then when it doesn't work out after a few months you both need to beat a dead horse in order to demonstrate to the other party how hurt you were, because the other option of shaking hands, sharing a quick hug and saying "Gee sorry it didn't work out, shall we just try being friends again?" seems like such a ridiculous one?

And all I keep thinking is that I was so looking forward to a reprieve after the craziness of the holiday season, and here I am so exhausted and indifferent I want to just zone out watching all 3 seasons of Arrested Development with a box of fudgecicles and a dog in my lap.

StealthSwitch

2010-01-06T12:43:00.000-08:00

Check it Out.

I would give up energy drinks forever for one of these bad boys.

Baby, it's COLD outside

2010-01-06T12:05:00.000-08:00

So cold you can feel the tiny hairs on your face frosting up.
So cold that you dash in front of cars wondering WHY THE HELL they think they get to go before allowing (poor, pitiful, climate control-less) you to cross the street.
So cold that halfway through a walk equivalent to roughly 6 city blocks you consider whether it's still worth your while to turn back.
So cold that $17 for a fuzzy scarf seems like an awesome deal.

Obviously I went for a walk today and did some impromptu shopping. I've been back in my office for roughly 6 minutes and the feeling is just starting to come back into my extremities.

I often wonder why I'm still living in the north, and the dream of stealing my roommate's dog and living happily ever after in Bali begins to seem less and less like one of the pipe variety.

Brrr.

Transference

2010-01-05T10:20:00.000-08:00

I was reading this particularly interesting study this morning about transference in interpersonal relationships, and specifically in a romantic relationship.

The basic concept is that oftentimes in traumatic circumstances people will transfer details about the situation or person(s) involved and carry it forward. In a romantic relationship, the victim becomes involved with someone new and instead of attempting to understand the person they are with, the victims will choose instead to make the assumption that they are just like another person (in many instances, the aggressor in the past relationship) and consequently believe their new partner will feel and behave in ways that are similar to how that other person would feel/behave.

I wasn't aware of this term or theory, but I've often wondered about whether it's possible. Especially exiting a relationship where I often felt like I was being compared to someone else, or reacted to in a way that didn't seem entirely appropriate to the situation. There's so much comfort in knowing you aren't alone, that there's a perfect black and white term to describe it, and that it's not me or him -- it's just the human brain.

New Year, New.. Me?

2010-01-04T07:16:00.000-08:00

2009 came and went, and 4 days ago we entered the year 2010 (or "Twenty Ten" for the douchy among us). It doesn't seem like a whole year has passed, and yet, it did -- quickly and chock full of events.

In the past year I felt like I was getting more of a grip on who I am. I've ended relationships that while perfectly fine, felt unfulfilling, because I know I can't sacrifice who I am to be with someone else. I've had the opportunity to be free, to take off for a week on a moment's notice and enjoy being me and being young. I've fallen asleep in the arm's of a lover, and fallen asleep after angry words with a friend. I've met people, lost people, regained bonds formerly broken and written off people who I knew just weren't worth the effort anymore.

Nearing the end of the year I learned more lessons than I did for the other 10 months.

I re-learned that if things look too good to be true, they probably are.

That talk is cheap, and actions do speak louder than words.

That you must ALWAYS trust your instincts first, and your heart second, but to allow your mind to make the final call.

That like, curious little Alice, "I give myself very good advice, But I very seldom follow it", and that is something that should change.

That slow and steady does win the race, because things that go too quickly are always destined to crash and burn.

So while I've already mentioned that two of my new year's resolutions are to dance like there's no one watching and to not put up with toxic people in my life, the third is that I will listen to my instincts and not settle for anything less than what is best for me. And that I'm worth it, and I need to start realizing that.

I'm Looking Through You

2009-12-23T06:58:00.000-08:00

I'm looking through you,
where did you go?
I thought I knew you,
what did I know?

You don't look different,
but you have changed
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same.

Your lips are moving,
I cannot hear
Your voice is soothing,
but the words aren't clear.

You don't sound different,
I've learned the game.
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same.

Why, tell me why,
did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit
of disappearing overnight

You're thinking of me,
the same old way
You were above me,
but not today.

The only difference
is you're down there
I'm looking through you,
and you're nowhere.

Why, tell me why,
did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit
of disappearing overnight.

1965 Lennon/McCartney

Dashing through the... water?

2009-12-17T14:24:00.000-08:00

Mondays are epically crappy enough, but when you combine them with no heat in your office on a day with temperatures nearing -40°C, it doesn't really entice you to be at your best.

By Tuesday morning I had woke up with what felt like a really bad chest infection so I called in sick and opted to lay in bed and moan to myself. A visit to the doctors resulted in her telling me what she normally does -- stop smoking so much in the blistering cold.

Thankfully because I called in sick, I missed what eventually turned out to be an even cooler day. Both boilers in the office broke down and left the ambient temperature in the office at around 6°C. For those unaware, most household refrigerators run at between 4-5°C.

It should have been no surprise to us when we walked in the doors on Wednesday morning to discover pools of water absolutely everywhere. A pipe had burst and left well over half the office under water, so like a bunch of refugees we grabbed what we could and tramped over to the hospital where they stuck us wherever they had room.

Since most of my job entails me to be in the office filing and generally organizing things, I am feeling particularly displaced. It means I have a lot of time to write long, pointless, rambling letters to my nearest and dearest (watch your mailboxes!), wander around looking for messages to deliver and generally to feel useless.

With all my free time I look forward to 'coffee breaks' even more, which is obviously contrary to Tuesday's doctor's orders and makes me feel especially awkward when I have to go stand on the sidewalk in front of the hospital and be leered at by old men driving their Crown Vics around town.

I cannot wait to be back at my desk in my own office.

The Death Knell of the Postage Era

2009-12-10T13:49:00.000-08:00

Every New Year we make our resolutions, nurse our hangovers, bemoan all the things we meant to do in the year prior (but never got around to), but as of late we have a new tradition -- many of us go stock up on stamps.

Not because we are all pictures of ettiquette who feel the need to write endearing thank you notes to everyone for their thoughtful gifts and invitations, but because every year as of late, our wonderfully unreliable mail service provider -- the bumbling Canada Post -- feels the need to raise the price of a postage stamp by a few MORE cents.

In fact, at the beginning of this year Canada Post even scrapped the idea of selling postage stamps with denominations on them simply because they were changing their prices every single year, which made it necessary for them to print large numbers of the extraneous 1 cent stamp to make up the difference.

By January 11, 2010, the price of stamps will have gone up 11 cents per stamp in 10 years. Granted that 11 cents isn't much if you're just after a single stamp, but these things do add up.

Combine this with my frustration that it literally costs less for me to ship something to France, than it does for me to ship something across my own province and this fun Crown Corporation ONCE AGAIN ranks high in my shit list.

Oh, Canada Post -- From anywhere, to anyone -- for a price.

*DISCLAIMER*

This rant is not against all those front-line Canada Post employees who genuinely do give a crap -- like the lady who took the time to find my misplaced parcel from New Jersey today despite me not having a tracking number or parcel card. My uncle is a retired mail carrier and I know that for every bad apple there are several good ones. Besides, let's not delude ourselves that they have even a modicum of control over their employer and it's policies.

I've been a corporate drone and I know the score.

And then there are the bad apples -- like the mailman who felt the need to cram every single bit of my mail (including mail order DVDs and paperback novels) in my tiny apartment sized box, but left me a handy dandy parcel card for the manila envelope full of PeTA propaganda that was clearly marked "Addressed Admail". Or the person who botched up my birthday delivery years ago -- how a parcel sent from High Level, AB to Edmonton, AB ended up in St. Albert, AB after a month is beyond my comprehension, but it happened.

Goodbyes

2009-11-13T10:45:00.000-08:00

My dear friend,

A little over a year ago I met you at a hostel in Madrid, Spain waiting for a walking tour. I'll never forget your smile when I introduced myself and asked where your accent was from, or the pure joy that lit up your face when you saw the perfect picture. I even smile when I remember how frustrated you were trying to find the perfect place to eat that night, and how torn you were between being concerned with how queasy I was at the bullfight and how enthusiastic you were to be experiencing it. You and I shared the same enthusiasm for the idea of a good Spanish meal, even if we didn't share the same idea of what was a good budget for said meal. I will always remember Patatas Brava and cheap Spanish wine while you told me all about South Africa and the Antarctic. I had no idea what a profound impact you were ultimately going to make on my life.

We missed each other in Seville by mere hours, and remet again in Granada. I remember being terrified I was going to run into my terrible former hostel-mates, but I wanted so badly for you to get the perfect picture of the Alhambra, and the best view I had seen was from the terrace below the hostel.

You took forever.

And when you came back I was so upset with you, and you just laughed because it really wasn't a big deal. I'm always going to remember the excitement I felt the first time I dipped my foot into the mediterranean and you didn't judge me, because you were just as excited. You swam out way farther than I would have dared. For the next few weeks we would correspond and then run into each other by 'coincidence' -- once in Pisa, again in Rome. I think the universe knew that we were fated to be friends, and that it knew I had much to learn from you.

You wanted so much to find the love of your life and to spend the rest of your days with her. Sometimes you seemed so sad while remaining so hopeful. I remember long talks on even longer train rides, eating chocolate biscuits while you listened to me pour my heart out over all those mistakes I had made with the love of my life. You listened so patiently and while you could offer no personal advice, were always quick to tell me to follow my own heart, but to never take those matters lightly.

Among the things I already missed about you, I will miss receiving your emails describing all the wonderful things you are experiencing, the SANAE newsletters and your fantastic pictures. I'm going to miss having you pop online to chat with me at 3 in the morning, asking me about the snow in Canada -- it always made me wonder why you cared about our snow when you saw so much of it. I know now that it was just because you cared. Because you had such a wonderfully infectious child-like curiousity about the world around you.

I'm never going to forget the day I found out that this planet had lost one of the best souls I've ever met in my life. It's been almost a week since that day, and still I'm shocked.

More than anything, Mr. Jamneck, I am never going to forget my crazy, wonderful South African friend.

Totsiens.

Office Nicknames

2009-11-05T14:36:00.000-08:00

Up until a few weeks ago I had a screen-name on MSN Messenger that puzzled many people and when questioned about it, I would usually respond with "It's a long story". The truth is, it's not really a long story as much as it is a complicated one. I've decided to tell that story now as I recently changed my screen-name back to my boring old REAL moniker to avoid the questions.

Several years ago I was employed by a company, under the supervision of 2 gentleman I will refer to as "M" and "J".

M was my regional director, and J was indirectly my supervisor in that he often stepped in during M's absences. These two wonderful men taught me the basis of what I now know to be 'business acumen' and what a solid foundation it was.

They often referred to me as their "Little Protégé", and attempted to teach me everything they knew about the business world, our corporate platform and how to be a self-made success story.

Unfortunately, after several months of working my buns off to get as near the top as I could, our company was bought out by a much larger corporation in a takeover, which of course, I had been briefed on by both M and J who were familiar with the terms of the deal. As these things usually happen, the takeover became hostile, and very abruptly the larger corporation began laying off our people in favor of placing their own in those positions. M was laid off, and shortly thereafter, so was J. I was demoted back to the position I had started at, fortunately with no loss in pay, but with huge losses to my self esteem and worth.

I kept in contact with both M and J as frequently as I could, and they continued referring to me as their Little Protégé -- bolstering my self esteem as much as they could while starting new positions elsewhere.

It was no surprise that I felt extremely lost during the process -- not only had I been replaced by someone who knew nothing of our customer base, but I had lost two of the strongest professional mentors I'd ever had, and was dealing with the stress and de-motivation that comes with being put into a role I was unhappy in.

I suppose in retrospect I could have worked my way up again, but the loss of enthusiasm I felt was so overwhelming, and besides, there was the issue of morality that came into play. My standards for morals are high, but right where I believe they need to be, and I was not assured that those higher ups in the "corporate cult" had the same standards. While the almightly bottom line should never be ignored, our customer base shouldn't have been either, but frequently was. In a business like that one -- the customer was never right.

Therefore I had no enthusiasm for the company, for my coworkers, for my position or for our purpose, and I left. They got their perfunctory 2 weeks notice, and shortly after Christmas that year I joined the unwashed masses of the unemployed and was the happiest I had been in a long time. Even if I was "The Little Lost Protégé".

So almost 5 years after I gained this little nickname, I have gained a new one -- "Little Miss Type A".

I'm unsure if it's because I'm admired for my take-charge attitude, or if it's because 3/4 of the people I work with are Type Bs and they don't like me.

One More Breakup Song

2009-10-29T08:24:00.000-07:00

Just because I can't believe I forgot about it...

Thrift Store Chair - Everclear

I can't tell you how many times I listened to this song last winter. It was excessive.

My Bucket List

2009-10-28T23:06:00.000-07:00

After having a lovely conversation with my lovely Rossy tonight, I was reminded of this list that I started many years ago and began compiling again around a month ago. Since it is the eve of my 26th year, I'm going to post it and hope it motivates me to start doing what I want to do starting now.

Set foot on every continent on Earth.
Get a tattoo on my ankle or foot.
Get a degree.
Watch a soccer game in Brazil.
Fly first class.
See Our Lady Peace in concert.
Restore a car.
Visit Boston in the fall.
Take a comedy class.
Go backcountry camping.
Take a self defense class.
Visit Australia (and watch the sunset at Uluru).
Ride a real rollercoaster.
Visit NYC.
Join the Mile High club.
Inspire someone to do something great.
Bake cookies for my neighbours.
Fly in a hot air balloon.
Take voice lessons.
See the Grand Canyon.
Go wine tasting at a vineyard.
Start a dance in a public place.
Take my CFSC exam and get my firearm Possession and Acquisition Licence -- just because.
"Flip" a house.
Visit the East Side Gallery in Berlin.
Ask for a raise.
See U2 live in concert in Dublin.
Go to Charleston, SC and drive across the Arthur Ravenal, Jr. Bridge.
Drive across the Golden Gate bridge.
Get down to a single digit clothing size.
Help build a Habitat for Humanity Home.
Ride a camel in the desert.
Learn to play the piano.
Give a stranger a $100 bill.
Play a song on a guitar.
Have a salt water aquarium.
Be "at sea" on Christmas Day.
Swim with a dolphin.
Buy and display a piece of art that I love.
Rescue a dog and give it a forever home.
Go skydiving.
Make love on a moving train.
Drink beer at Oktoberfest in Munich.
Perfect my poker face.
Send a message in a bottle.
Learn to actually shuffle a deck of cards -- properly.
Ride in a private plane.
Pay for someone else's groceries.
Drive a Lamborghini Diablo.
Visit a former concentration camp.
Learn how to invest intelligently.
Ride a mechanical bull.
Visit Japan (and the Aokigahara Forest).
Make a real difference in someone's life.
Ride through the Panama Canal.
Visit Easter Island.
Write a will.
Live abroad for a year.
Audition for a play.
See a play on Broadway.
Quit smoking.
Attend Mardi Gras.
Play tennis passably well.
Take a computer free vacation for at least 2 weeks.
Throw a classy dinner party.
Kiss the Blarney Stone.
Safari in Africa.
Help sail a yacht.
Learn to say the alphabet backwards.
Hitchhike.
Convincingly adopt an accent for an entire day.
Take salsa dancing lessons.
Take tango lessons.
Have whiskey at a pub in Ireland.
Go wild at Carnival in Rio.
Have my teeth professionally whitened.
Learn how to surf.
Spend New Year's in an exotic location.
Participate in a Marathon.
Go on a cruise.
Write and submit a script for a TV show.
Speak in front of a large crowd.
Feel weightlessness.
Live in a beach house.
Heal my past.
Donate blood.
Gamble in Monte Carlo.
Take a bellydancing class.
Own a Clydesdale Horse.
Whale Watch.
Go Scuba Diving.
Buy a round for everyone in a bar.
Visit the other 48 US States.
See every Wonder of the World still in existence (and in addition, experience them at their grittiest -- like walking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu).
Go to Hawaii.
See a tornado.
Take a Flair Bartending class.
Go to the Kentucky Derby and wear a great hat.
Make love under a waterfall.
Break a plate at a Greek restaurant while yelling "Oppa!"
Learn how to ice skate without killing/maiming someone.
Learn the basics of ASL.
Become fluent in another language.
Become conversational in at least 4.
Meet the Dalai Lama.
Get married.
Stay in a 5 star hotel.
Learn to sculpt.
Own a canoe (and use it).
Be an extra in a movie (or a TV show).
Go whale watching.
Speed date.
Live in a house with a window seat.
Ride in a gondola with the love of my life in Venice.
Go on a road trip down the Pan-American Highway (it doesn't have to be all the way).
Show a dog at Westminster and Crufts the same year.
Make something to be proud of.
Write a novel.

I did this before, but you'll notice there are MANY new things on the new list, and I'm sure I'll keep adding things as they come to me.

Man, I have a lot to do.

BREAKING NEWS!

2009-10-28T15:48:00.000-07:00

According to MSN News this afternoon:

Hills star Lauren Conrad has revealed her costume idea for Halloween this year and said she wants to go as a 'pretty girl clown'

Wow.

Sometimes I'm so ashamed to admit I kind of like The Hills -- or entertainment news.

Random Songs #2

2009-10-28T14:37:00.001-07:00

Sorry to be getting out of actually blogging by just posting songs lately, but since the vast majority of the traffic I get to my blog is routed from Google searches for the term "Random Songs" (after this 30 Random Songs entry from March), it seems like that's all my blog is really good for.

Well, that and being my therapeutic outlet for 'ranting' whenever I've been over-utilizing my dear friends for that purpose. So here I will post another bunch of random songs playing on my MP3 player for all those seeking 'new' music. You'll have to forgive me, but under the guise of actually working, I am going to save my commentary this time, and only post songs as they come on. Not that I'm sure everyone would mind taking a pass on my lame commentary anyway.

Johnny Come Lately - Steve Earle & the Pogues

Burning in the Sun - Blue Merle

California Girls - The Beach Boys

Dramamine - Modest Mouse

The Boys are Back in Town - Everclear

Combat Baby - Metric

The Pretender - Foo Fighters

Shake It - Metro Station

50 Ways to Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon (can't resist commenting, because this SHOULD have been on the Breakup Songs post yesterday, no?)

Lovefool - The Cardigans

I Want You Now - Big Sugar

Wish You Were Here - Ryan Adams

Let the Good Times Roll - The Cars

The Long Way Around - The Dixie Chicks

While my Guitar Gently Weeps - The Beatles

The Good Witch of the North - Everclear

Rico - Matthew Good Band

Otherside - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Freebird - Lynard Skynard

Pony - Ginuwine

23 - Jimmy Eat World

Easy like Sunday Morning - Faith No More

Everything - Lifehouse

Feels like Home - Chantal Kreviazuk

Feel - Robbie Williams

Days Go By - Keith Urban

Sweet and Low - Augustana

Fidelity - Regina Spektor

Stay - Maurice Williams & The Zodiacs

Superman's Dead - Our Lady Peace

I'm not even going to apologize for the utter randomness of the genres and song types, the title should have been disclaimer enough.

Great Breakup Songs

2009-10-27T09:53:00.000-07:00

Not because I broke up with anyone, but just because one gets sick of only listening to them while filling a pint of Haagen Daz with your own tears. I want to enjoy them when I'm happy for once.

As follows, my picks for the top 10 breakup songs.

10. I Will Survive - CAKE
Yes, the Gloria Gaynor version is infinitely more popular, especially among karaoke circles, but I think I enjoy the CAKE cover much more. It's not as upbeat as the timeless disco tune, but John McCrea's Sprechgesang style makes it seem a lot more real and gritty to me.

9. Back in Your Head - Tegan and Sara
Not as much a breakup song, as an "about to breakup" song, I think the lyrics wonderfully demonstrate the separation 2 people feel when they go from becoming a royal "us" back to "me and You".

8. Yesterday - The Beatles
Sort of a melancholic song, but anyone who has ever split up with someone who they really enjoyed in a short period of time will understand the words McCartney is singing:

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play/Now I need a place to hide away/Oh, I believe in yesterday.

7. You Oughta Know - Alanis Morissette
If I recieved just a nickel for everytime I belted that song after having someone stomp on my heart, I could afford to buy another pint of Haagen Daz. Seriously, I love Alanis. And I don't even care who knows. Angry chick music rocks.

6. What Hurts the Most - Rascal Flatts
While I should by all rights be incredibly sick of this song after listening to an ex roommate blast it for almost a week straight after having his heart broken, I still think it's a particularly poignant breakup song.

5. With or Without You - U2
I love this song, but even now, 9 years after it made me sob uncontrollably, I still get a little choked up when I hear it. I even wrote a short story where the girl crashes her car after listening to this song and crying so hard she doesn't see she's swerved out of her lane into oncoming traffic. Woah. Dark. Tough period of my life.

4. Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) - Green Day
I love that this song was fought over to be used as a graduation song for almost 3 years in my high school. Yes, it's a song about leaving, being done with something, but it's always hit me as a really optimistic tune about trying to amicably split with someone. I would have had a hard time walking down the stage to receive my diploma while every ex boyfriend I'd ever had was flashing through my mind. Actually, that happened anyway. Half of them were there.

3. You Were Meant for Me - Jewel
I've had one or two breakups where I felt like this. I was so hopeful and optimistic that things would ultimately work out for us that I didn't even view it as a breakup -- we were simply taking a breather from being in a relationship. It's such a sweet, naive little song. And I can definitely be naive.

2. In the End - Linkin Park
Yeah, I will probably receive a lot of flak for this bad boy, but I do recall a time in my life when I belted this out in the shower trying really hard not to cry over someone who, as it turns out, wasn't even worth crying over (isn't that always the way?). Huh. I guess the lyrics were true -- in the end, it doesn't even matter.

1. Nothing Compares 2 U - Sinead O'Connor
I would be incredibly surprised if every person who hasn't had their heart broken since 1990 has not shed a tear or felt all choked up when they hear this song. It's so honest and relatable.

A few more goodies..

Three favorite guilty pleasure "I-dumped-YOU-Jackass" songs I'm almost ashamed to admit I know every lyric to :
3. Hole in the Head - Sugababes
2. Leave (Get Out) - Jojo
1. Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

A few songs that got me through the toughest split of my life with a smile on my face:
Look Who's Crying Now - Jacynthe
Kerosene - Miranda Lambert
Goodnight, Goodnight - Hot Hot Heat

People are Time Bombs

2009-10-26T14:30:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

Since most of you know I work in a healthcare related field, it shouldn't come as any big surprise that (mostly due to the media outlets) everyone is concerned and wanting answers about big, bad ol' H1N1. Since all I am truly qualified to say is that it's important during flu season (but really always) to practice diligent personal hygiene by washing your hands frequently and well, to cough or sneeze into your sleeve, and to avoid going out in public if you're sick (or alternately to avoid sick people if you're well), I'll pass on BC's Ministry of Healthy Living and Sport's webpage on H1N1 which can be found at http://www.gov.bc.ca/h1n1/ to answer any further questions.

But for that bag who called here this morning while I was covering reception to tear a strip off of me because you had a whole bunch of questions I was not qualified to answer, and you refused to believe that the person operating the switchboard actually was REQUIRED to answer all those other calls coming in -- grow up, lady.

If you honestly think you are the only person out there who watched the news this morning and thought it was a brilliant idea to start calling healthcare providers for more questions, think again. During the one hour prior to your call, I fielded over 100 calls all wanting the same answers you did, and I am NOT qualified to give them as I pointed out several times during your call. Receptionists are not personally responsible for answering the plethora of questions posed to us on a daily basis, we are only responsible for re-directing you to someone who can, so if you refuse to be directed to them, follow these directions carefully:

1) Take a deep breath
2) Understand that just because you are frustrated and we are the first voice on the phone, we are, in all likelihood NOT responsible for your problems and it is unfair to project your frustration on us.
3) Hang up the phone
4) Go for a walk
5) Never call again.

I am going to be SO happy when flu season is over.

Nights Out

2009-10-26T08:09:00.000-07:00

I'm all done moving. Between the help I got from my new roommates and their compadres on Friday night, and the help my momma and little bro gave me Saturday, all of my stuff is either deposited in my new room or upstairs in my parent's attic.

So after 2 long days of hiking up and down stairs with boxes and furniture, I was very ready to have a night to let loose and thankfully people actually had a plan for Saturday -- to go bowling.

I texted a guy I've been seeing and asked him along, and when he got there we all headed to the bowling alley to start our night. After 2 quick games (of which I won both), we got unceremoniously booted out of the bowling alley (not because we were being rowdy or anything fun like that -- but because they were having a private function), and then decided to head elsewhere. Someone had the idea that we should all visit the strip club (because we had two 'peeler virgins' in our midst), but upon arrival we discovered that the club was lacking naked women and instead showing Saturday's UFC fight, we headed to a pub to have a few more drinks.

After a round or two there, we headed back to the strip club just in time to catch the tail end of the first show, so the boy, both roommates and I grabbed seats on perv row and settled in for the next show. The stripper and I made eyes at each other and she tried coaxing me into showing off the goodies, but I was only just drunk enough to be fake flirting with a stripper -- not drunk enough for half of DC's male population to get to know what "Bessie and Bossie" looked like in the buff. Afterwards we pooled our pocket change and had enough money to win her little games and most of us came away with a prize. The boy got a poster. I got a lighter.

And then, in the words of Dane Cook -- I just needed to dance. I just want to stand in a circle around our pocketbooks and shoes and just -- I just want to dance. I just want to dance it out. Not on stage like the boy and a few others suggested, but somewhere. So we headed to what passes for a club in this town, and as per usual, with a few more highballs in me, I turned into the long repressed club kid. I'm pretty certain that from the moment I walked onto the dance floor, I missed only 2 songs, both of which were country tunes.

At some point in the evening, both roommates, the boy and I made it back to the house and fell asleep, and for most of yesterday, I would have been shot through the head in the event of Zombie Apocalypse. By 9 pm I was starting to rejoin the land of the living, and all I can think was "God, what a great night!". Today is Monday, on the other hand.

"Penelope"

2009-10-23T23:32:00.001-07:00

Tonight is my last night in the apartment Miss Rose and I dubbed "Penelope the Palatial Pink Palace".

I'm sitting here alone, surrounded by my belongings in boxes, remembering the good times and the bad and thinking that although it doesn't seem like that long ago that I was waiting on bated breath for the phone call confirming she was ours, it was actually 9 long months ago.

In 9 months, she has changed appearance, gained occupants, hosted sleepovers (of both the PG and not so varieties), granted hospitality to drunken bar goers and been the venue for a few crazy get togethers.

This morning I left for work and took one last look back through the door to savor what will be my last morning leaving at 7:57 for my 8am shift. Wednesday was the last time I could walk home on lunch and still have an hour left. Tonight will be the last night that Miss Onye and I will get to sleep in the "Bed that Hugs Back" in "Penelope the Palatial Palace".

I'm such a nostalgic sap, but, God, I am going to miss this apartment.

How I Would Love To

2009-10-23T20:23:00.000-07:00

That really bummed me out tonight.

These are a few of my favorite things...

2009-10-21T13:29:00.000-07:00

Many people who know me know that I am undeniably addicted to pretty smelling things. Even after developing a mild fragrance intolerance, I still live to walk into a place and smell something beautiful, whether it's someone's perfume, hand lotion or candles.

So as follows, here are a few of my favorite 'stink pretties':

LOL Candles

Last Christmas my brother's girlfriend turned me onto a company that I now endorse 110% -- LOLCandles out of Pennsylvania. They specialize in scented wax tarts, and with a scent list of 300+ I know I'll never get a chance to try every one out (although I try my hardest). Since smelling the first LOL tart that Robyn gave us (Cinnamon Buns, which for those who love the smell is WELL worth it), I was in love and have now ordered from them 3 times with no plans to stop. If the owners, Allison & Achilles, were willing to allow me to distribute for them I would in a heartbeat. I have 6 tart burners in my apartment, and am having a hard time paring down to move into just one room this weekend.

My favorite LOL scents are Magnolia & Orange Blossom, Cucumber Lettuce (extremely clean!), Avabathe, and my own creation - Island Plumeria - which won me a LOL gift certificate this spring after being voted third best scent creation.

The shipping gets a little steep, but between me, mom and my roommate, we combine orders and make it worth our while to order from them. Plus they are always so awesome about throwing in some samples and extras.

The Body Shop

I joined the Love Your Body club this summer when I was visiting in Edmonton and it has been fantastic for the amount of Body Shop stuff I get! Not only do I get 10% off all my purchases during that year, I also get $10 worth of free product during my birthday month (ie. this one!), and free gifts after my fourth and eighth purchases. I am utterly ADDICTED to their Satsuma scent, and have owned almost everything in the line at some point. I just ran out of Satsuma body butter, so I ordered some more, plus some of the Moringa which the casual receptionist here uses and always smells glorious with. My roommate loves the Grapefruit line, and admittedly I am pretty into it, too. Warren bought me several things from their Coconut line last year for Christmas, and I've just now run out of the Coconut Milk Body Lotion which was the last thing left. The Milk Body Lotions are fantastically moisturizing and sort of fun to boot.. I love spraying my lotion on!

Other scents I adore:

Fruits and Passion Grapefruit-Guava line: This was my summer scent. After smelling it for the first time in a flower shop while helping a guy friend pick out a bouquet for his mom, I had to buy the body spray and the hand lotion.

Zen Garden Tea and Oranges line: The first time I ever smelled this was working at Rafter's back in the day. We had a whole display of it set up and despite having a paltry $20 to my name to last until payday, I splurged and bought a bottle of the Eau de Parfum. It was heaven.

Lush's Sakura Line: I started out with the bath bomb years ago and it's a constant repurchase to have for a relaxing bath-time. Now I have the solid perfume for my purse, too.

Nature's Little Therapists

2009-10-20T16:04:00.000-07:00

I've had a really frustrating morning at work with a combination of stress including the logistical nightmare of my current task at hand, the non-stop questions about H1N1 and the seasonal flu vaccine, a brand new computer requiring fresh installations of EVERYTHING, frustration about men and killer PMS to top it all off.

By the time noon rolled around I was well overdue for a break, but I traded reception relief with a coworker yesterday, so had to cover her's today. By the time 1 pm rolled around, I would have gladly ripped off anyone's head and shoved it up their rear.

When I finally made it out of the office I was past the point of being simply frustrated, and was simply just ready to sit down and have an hour long cry, so when I got in front of my apartment complex I sat down and lit a cigarette to calm down.

This little orange and white cat pops his head around the corner of the complex, and starts towards me. Like most cats, he plays aloof and skittish, and when I turn to actually look at him, he starts and changes direction. I picked up a little bundle of grass and started idly twirling it between my fingers and within 5 minutes he was rubbing himself all over me, climbing into my lap, purring happily. At that point, it's hard to be mad at pretty much anything.

I checked him out for a tattoo or a collar, and saw nothing identifying except protruding ribs, hips and spine and a few scars around his face and ears. He was maybe all of 8 or 9 months, clearly going through his gangly 'teenager' stage, and back in my memory I recalled a little orange and white kitten hanging with the dumpster cats of last winter. Most of them seem to have moved on or passed on, but periodically I still see this little survivor hanging out on top of the dumpster cleaning himself off after a filling meal of garbage and rotting leftovers.

My heart broke for him so I picked him up and carried him upstairs to my apartment. He cried and his pupils grew 3 times their normal size -- it was so apparent that this cat had never seen the interior of a people occupied building, and the noises, smells and acoustics seemed to unnerve him to his very core.

When I got him inside the apartment, I set him down in the living room so he could familiarize himself and filled up a bowl full of food and another full of fresh water.

While he was still pretty timid and unsure of me moving quickly, he ate 3/4 of the bowl of food, drank half the water, laid down for a snooze and then shortly before I had to leave to go back to work, went and stood by the patio door looking outside, which I took to mean he was ready to leave, too. I let him outside, said my goodbye and went back to work, but I'm sure I'll see him again soon.

So just in case anyone is looking for a young male cat -- keep it in mind.

Dating Don'ts

2009-10-20T10:36:00.001-07:00

Probably the single biggest don't in regards to dating is bringing up or trying to discuss other people you are dating, unless the story you are bringing up is gut-roaringly hilarious or bizarre enough to spark further conversation.

I learned something last night...

Never again will I inform someone I have just met why I want to pursue my Psych degree. Somehow mentioning you want to be a relationship therapist opens the floodgates and you go from being on a really great date to pulling out your proverbial "couch" and patiently listening to someone lament about the OTHER person they are seeing and all the issues and confusion that surround that particular relationship.

Let it be clear -- I am all for playing the field and dating around before settling into a relationship with one single person, but I do not condone asking one date for advice on dating another.

When you have reached that point you can generally use any excuse in the book but even 2 Doubles with dinner does not excuse people from that type of "verbal vomit".

So I am now 3/3 on bad dates/dudes recently and I often wonder why I even bother trying to get to know anyone. Especially since not one of those three are someone I could remotely consider being the special someone I blissfully fall in love with into the happily ever after.

Yeah. I am single and it's about time I just embrace it.

I also resolve to...

2009-10-17T20:41:00.000-07:00

I know I just posted a future New Year's resolution the other day, but I've made another resolution with myself that I am not going to put off until then...

I resolve to not surround myself with people who belittle me or make me feel bad about myself because they are too insecure to deal with who I am as a whole. If people genuinely feel the need to put me down in order to feel superior, I need to start realizing that my time is simply too valuable to be spent on them. These people, as a whole, are those that have not evolved to a maturity level befitting their age, nor do they seem to have any ambition or motivation to be decent and respectful people.

Someone once said "Never respect the opinions of those people whom you don't respect yourself", but since I am a fairly respectful person as a whole, I seem to respect everyone's opinions. Life is just too short for that, though. My bitch face is out of storage, armed and ready to go for the next person who needs to see it.

And so it goes -- bad people in my life, you're on notice!

Movin' Out

2009-10-15T09:35:00.000-07:00

I've been procrastinating big time on packing up my life and preparing it to spend the next few months in boxes. I had warned a friend visiting last week that my apartment was completely torn apart, and most things were in boxes, and it wasn't without a certain amount of humor that he remarked that it did not appear to be packed in the least.

Mostly because it's not. I'm so unprepared.

While I had planned to move, it was intended to be one big, long-term, long-distance move, not one short, one mid range and one long distance move within a 3 month span. I have to pack 3 different types of boxes -- those things essential to my comfort and well-being over the next few months, those things which are needed close at hand just in case, and those things that can be thrown in the back of a kind friend's pickup to save space in the U-Haul when the time comes.

And I'm terrible at it. It took me over a month and a half to whittle down enough crap out of my backpack prior to Europe that I could comfortably wear the damn thing for more than an hour. And the rest of the stuff I could leave at home. Packing your life up and trying to decide what is worthwhile to bring FOREVER? I really hate this part of moving.

I love moving into a new place: Unpacking boxes, cleaning the area to make it yours, rearranging, decorating to suit your tastes.. it's a glorious time. However 6 months of packing people's possessions for a living has made me jaded about my own possessions. There are things I am very fond of or dearly attached to, but these things are all such a hair-splitting pain in the arse to pack that often I think I should not be attached to one single thing I own (besides the cat, because I am still a responsible pet owner, and besides, she's easy to pack). I hate getting ready to move -- labeling the boxes; making brief lists of what else needs to be done; donating things; throwing things out; giving things away; ; collecting boxes; newsprint on your hands, on your cupboards, on your face; sleepless nights and headache filled days. And then moving them. One box at a time, tetris'd into the back of a truck/van or car, trying to remember not to put the books on top of the glassware.

Wow. What a joke.

One day I endeavour to be able to fit everything I own into a bindle and then I'm going vagabonding. Swear to God.

I wish I could..

2009-10-13T10:13:00.001-07:00

.. dance like no one is watching.

I know it's a little early to be making a New Year's resolution, but if I do in 2010, it's going to be this.

We're going through a pretty harsh cold snap right now in Northern BC, and on my smoke break I bundle up, pop in my earphones and listen to tunes, often moving self consciously but wishing I could dance with abandon -- not only to keep warm but to enjoy the music I'm listening to.

I have no problem dancing like this in the privacy of my home, and more than one of my roommates has come home to me gyrating and doing some hilarious rendition of dancing not unlike that of the infamous "Elaine" of Seinfeld fame.

I went out dancing with a friend a few weeks ago, and after a few minutes of watching the people on the dance floor, she commented on a few people dancing who were obviously trying, but not succeeding. While I agreed that most of them seemed graceless, just the pure joy they exuded from dancing in this manner, unaware of the judgements of those surrounding the dance floor, I also admired them for their loss of inhibition. I don't enjoy drinking to excess, but this seems to be the only way I can dance in such a manner here.

I cared less in the relative anonymity of a European nightclub. I think it only took me a week or so to understand that the vast majority of the people I met on that trip would never see, hear or speak to me ever again. I would be a fleeting memory in their mind, and I would prefer to be remembered as the "Canadian girl who was having a good time" than the "Canadian girl who sat morose in the corner downing beer and being too self conscious to have a good time".

The trouble is that people do judge, and I am all too aware of this fact. This gives me even more incentive to move back to the city where I am just a nameless face, possibly recognized by a friend of a friend or acquaintance of an acquaintance, but still anonymous enough to dance with the abandon I crave.

Good Cop? Bad Cop?

2009-10-11T12:35:00.000-07:00

My 2 week vow of (semi) silence has rung to a close. I can now openly admit I was dating a cop, because this morning it came to an end.

As it turns out, I am not capable of dating someone who overthinks things more than I do (see also, my incapability of dating men who are bigger drama queens than me, and men who take longer to get ready than me). We gave it a shot, but after a ridiculous argument that lasted 8+ hours via text message, and then another hour this morning when we woke up, we've both decided enough is enough.

Evidently, I'm a 'good woman, but not a good fit', and I was already harbouring enough misgivings and apprehensions about dating a cop that I should have walked home post-haste after discovering his chosen profession. In any case, I'm mad, but I'm ok with the situation. I just think it would have been really hilarious to bring him home for Thanksgiving dinner 3 weeks after he arrested my little brother for theft.

Things I Learned Today:

2009-10-09T13:26:00.000-07:00

- Salt water taffy contains absolutely ZERO salt water. No kidding.
Recipe here. Why is it called SALT WATER taffy? Because people in Joisey are dumb, obviously. No, I really don't know the answer to that.

- It is approximately 197 steps from my desk to my apartment door. We got pedometers given to us at work for the Workplace Walks challenge the other day, and I have thus far logged a paltry 5,790 steps in that time. Well, according to the pedometer. I hit reset while handing out information yesterday and lost the few thousand steps I'm sure I walked around downtown DC. The best part about this is that my coworkers and I have now discovered a new way to shirk responsibility -- we chat via the Workplace Walks website.

A few things have come about in the past few weeks since my last entry: Both roommates gave me their notice, I found another place to live, started packing possessions, lost 5 pounds, potentially severed a friendship, met some new people, found a place to live in the city, got a part-time job, went on a few great dates, gained 5 pounds back, watched the first snowfall of the year and gave away a bunch of furniture. This month has been crazy already, but after the complete misery of September, it's a nice change of pace.

I can't work here anymore..

2009-09-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

.. because if I continue to, I will be fat forever.

I started off my day sensibly enough with a breakfast drink and a yogurt, and it's all been downhill from there.

It's late September which means school is in session, and that equals school fundraising. I'm sitting at my desk minding my own business when my coworker comes by with a box.

Chocolate covered almonds.

Or rather -- "Roasted almonds with a HINT of chocolate".

She's quite good at romanticizing.

I resisted for about 3.2 seconds and then bought a box which the Public health nursing clerk and I scarfed down before 10. I left two in the box for the office manager, and then applauded myself for my apparent self control.

At my first coffee break someone left a bundt cake in the staff room with a post-it on it: "Help yourself". I didn't even bother trying to resist. I just had a piece. A small one.

I'm housesitting for my folks this weekend as well as getting a visit from my good friend Rick, and since both he and my brother are of the carnivorous variety and my mom is of the non-grocery-shopping variety, I picked up some meat for them. Since I've also been shunning carbs and know there is not one bread product in my house for Rick to eat the meat on, I picked up some buns, too. It took my entire lunch break to do the running around and shopping, and I scarcely had any time to eat anything, so I wolfed down a bun in the stead of an actual meal.

By 2 I was ravenous. The jujubes and Nibs in the candy dish began to look immensely appealing, so I grabbed a few each and every time I walked by. By 2:30, the new health inspector came by bearing gifts of the chocolate cupcake variety. I guess someone told her we're easier to deal with when we're not starving. I was hesitant but they looked yummy, so I took one.

I covered reception again at 3, which was just in time for the PHN clerk and I to get into a detailed and animated conversation about the differences between food in the UK and Canada.

Great, guess who wants poutine now?

I ♥ Puppies

2009-09-21T11:07:00.000-07:00

After a tough week of dealing with plenty of pain and frustration, I decided to head to my folks' place for the weekend to partake in some puppy goodness since this is the last weekend before they go off to their new homes.

They got their ear tattoos last week, and they were all still sporting green left ears, so I spent Friday night bathing them and then getting reacquainted with my old friend "Beer" to reward myself for a job, well, done.

Saturday I washed mom's truck in preparation for her trip down south to drop the pups off, and then spent the rest of the day walking dogs. I am absolutely determined to drop this excess 30 pounds I'm carrying before I move back to Edmonton. Now if only the people at work would cooperate and stop bringing cake into the staff room!

Now it's Monday again, and I'm doing my favorite at-work activity -- looking up cheap trips. Don't tell my boss.

PS. Last night I woke myself up at 5 am after having a particularly vivid dream about Zombies. I'm blaming the Zombieland trailers on TV. I did not go back to sleep. Especially since SOMEONE felt the need to text me at 6 making plans for next GD Friday. Ugh.

How's this for fun?

2009-09-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

I'm hoping this is the end of my epically bad month. On Tuesday afternoon, I went to the dentist and he cranked out the tooth that was bugging me and it's buddy upstairs. I'm on even better painkillers that I am not allergic to, and I can honestly say I don't care about very much when they're in action. Except my thirst. I'm thirsty just about all the time.

So I was reviewing some old blog entries trying to get a rough timeline on events of 2006 (my blog is so handy for that) when I came across this old entry about birthdays. Since my 26th is 42 days away (yes, I'm counting), I figured it was bordering on timely, and worthy of a repost.

Birthdays are:

1) An inventory of all your "real" friends vs. your "fake" friends. It's funny how a guy you dated 5 years ago sends you a MSN at midnight and says "Is it too early to wish you a Happy Birthday?" while people that enthusiastically claim to 'love me' don't even send me a Good Morning.

2) A status report on your current place in life, and if you've done everything youre supposed to do by such and such age, and then seeing a disturbing amount of checks in the "nope" column.

3) The sad resignation that you have no control over the events of this day in your life, and must meekly nod and smile when everyone assumes they know what you REALLY want to do.

4) The unsettling social commentary that most of your "gifts" are in bottles

Birthdays suck.

I'm betting dollars to donuts that 26 is pretty well the same as 23.

Facecrack Problems

2009-09-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

I logged onto Facebook tonight to discover the above.

Right.

Like I don't have ANY new updates in the past 2 hours since I got home from work.

Has anyone else noticed that Facebook has been doing some supremely weird things lately? I seem to get random status updates from yesterday mixed in with ones from 10 minutes ago that somehow ended up on my home screen below one from an hour ago.

On another note, I would LOVE to sleep, but crazy lady below me has her music cranked so loud I can literally feel the vibration when I lay on the couch. Normally I don't mind John Mellencamp, but listening to "Small Town" this loud on practically no sleep is akin to torture.

Since I'm truly not anal-retentive enough to complain about loud music at quarter to 7 on a Friday night, I will seethe in silence. For now. But if she doesn't let up within the hour she will discover the glory that is GWAR.

Random Thoughts for Today

2009-09-11T14:56:00.000-07:00

I kind of get a weird kick out of seeing a pregnant woman ready to pop climbing out of her car with a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. Like, Really?

I had a "bajingo sister" sighting today at Safeway. In case you're unaware, a bajingo sister is someone with whom you share a past sexual encounter. I often wonder if they recognize me as quickly as I recognize them. I hope not. I looked fat today.

I have decided to swear off men for this week. This is big news. I probably won't even succeed.

Is it real Green Tea in Starbucks Green Tea drinks? If not, what is it? Do I even want to know?

I had my own little mini drama play out in the alley behind my apartment last night at 3 am while I was up nursing my poor wreck of a body. I was outside smoking, and drinking juice and contemplating whether or not to go to the ER when it broke out. I'm still a little unsure of whether or not the TV being on would have disturbed my roommates more or less than this did. In any case, apparently someone was making "everything all about her" and someone else needs to "stop acting like a slut" around someone's else man. It was all very entertaining and kind of Springer-esque. However, I personally think several someone's need to stop inbibing alcohol if they can't handle it.

Yeah, I went to the ER. They gave me some weak ass painkillers and sent me home with instructions to come back at 7:30. I laid in bed until 6:30 whispering sweet nothings to my cat, and went over again at 7:15. I swear I'm going to smother myself in ketchup the next time I go in there. Maybe then someone will pay attention to me in under 45 minutes. As it turns out, yes, my wisdom tooth is impacted, and abscessing and has grown so quickly it has broken off a piece of the molar in front of it. Uber pain. Tattoo pain was a cakewalk in comparison.

Everyone keeps trying to send me home from work today, and I don't understand why. I'm fine as long as I have something stable to prop me up -- like a wall, or a desk, or my boss.

Yeah, I'm still on some pretty good painkillers. They're doing almost nothing for the pain, but I do sort of feel like I'm on a cloud.

A Canadian Cigarette

2009-09-10T10:16:00.002-07:00

I smoked my first Canadian cigarette in almost a week today.

American cigarettes typically taste much stronger, and have a much harsher effect on my throat, so I chose to go with lightest, most filtered cigarette the US can offer:

The Virginia Slim Luxury Ultra Light 120's

That's 120 mm, and around 15 minutes per cigarette in case you've never had the chance to partake. Or you're just naturally sane and think cigarettes are disgusting.

In any case, my Canadian cigarette (John Player's Standard Silver Regular, FYI) is just under half as long as the VS is, and in the time I typically smoke one 120, I smoked 2 JPS and ended up with one heckuva head rush.

I wandered back inside the office after partaking, feeling woozy and dopey and sporting a huge smile on my face. It felt kind of nice.

Our receptionist was on her coffee break and sitting inside the break room with our Tobacco Reduction Coordinator, and after she remarked on my goofy look, I had the poor sense to discuss how much better my Canadian smoke tasted in front of him, because currently tact and knowing my audience is NOT my strong suit.

I feel it's fair to mention that my left bottom wisdom tooth seems to be impacted and I am on some heavy dose painkillers, so writing a blog entry about my smoking habits makes sense to me on some level right now. I'll understand if it doesn't make sense to you.

"Stephy"

2009-09-09T10:16:00.000-07:00

On August 29, 2009, my cousin took her life.

Today would have been her 18th birthday.

In the 11 days since her passing, I've cried more tears, asked more questions and felt more pain and doubt than I could wish on anyone.

I flew over 3000 km to say my goodbyes and offer what solace I could to all those she left behind.

On one hand I'm extremely saddened by her passing, and no amount of questions I have will ever help me make sense of her death. For all the information I've acquired regarding her final days, one part of me can understand how things could seem so incredibly overwhelming as to draw that ultimate, sad conclusion. Another part knows that no heartache or confusion is worth ending it all over. I suppose at 17, things seem as if they'll never get better.

However, I'm also angry with her. I'm angry because I know the pain and sadness she has left behind. I'm angry because she failed to see how many people loved her, cared about her, and would miss her deeply. I'm also angry because I have been there myself, and I know how temporary the pain truly is. All the things she could have done, seen and experienced. She was a beautiful, creative and intelligent girl with a capacity for great things, and who knows whether or not she could have changed the world. She certainly changed the worlds of those many people she touched.

Maybe the truth is that some people aren't strong enough to survive in this world. I wish she would have.

Stephanie Elizabeth Pappas

September 9, 1991 - August 29, 2009

This entry is more than just my goodbye to Stephanie though.

It's meant as an eye-opener for every person out there who has said something intentionally cruel to someone, who has ostracized someone for little or no reason, who went along with something they knew was hurtful just because they feared ostracism themselves.

One of the priests at Stephanie's funeral gave the most real, heartfelt and informative eulogy I had ever heard in my life.

The gist of it was that as human beings we have the ability to be COMPASSIONATE beings, but so many of us choose not to because our ability to be compassionate often interferes with our ability to remain part of the so-called status quo. We all need to RESPECT each other more, and to feel empathy for people in pain instead of choosing them as an easy target to solder our own egos.

It's also meant as a source of strength for all those who have felt the sting of rejection, the pain of betrayal and the loneliness that accompanies being outcast. It's meant for those who have looked at a vial of sleeping pills or a handgun and thought "What if?".

There are people who love you, who care about you, and who will do everything they can to help you get through this. Find them. Talk to them.

Maybe it'll be a quick fix. Maybe it won't.

You'd be amazed at how much you discover people care once you're gone, but wouldn't it be better to know how much they all cared while you were still alive?

The thing is that we forget what suicide really is. It's not an end to itself, and it doesn't really relieve us of our pain. Instead it just transfers the pain to all your friends and your family.

Remember, suicide is a temporary feeling and reaction to overwhelming pain. Suicide is a very permanent solution to this temporary question. Imagine destroying an entire city to rid it of a single cockroach. When we decide to actually take our own life, that is the equivalent of what we're doing. We are taking all the potential, the hope, the possible future achievements (both great and small), the creativity, the history and the life, and destroying it to rid ourselves of one feeling, pain.

Talk about overkill.

National Suicide Hotline (USA): 1-800-784-2433 or
1-800-273-8255

In Canada: 1-800-448-3000

Yep...

2009-08-12T14:23:00.000-07:00

PS.

2009-08-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

I forgot a puppy update.

Lacey had 3 boys whom we have dubbed Clint (Black), Alan (Jackson) and Paul (Brandt).

Years ago we had a female country singers litter (which my beloved Reba was from). The night these 3 boys were born was the night my parents went to the Clint Black concert, so it seemed fitting that we work that into the litter theme somehow. Plus Clint, Paul AND Alan have all had the (dubious) honor of playing Dawson in 2009.

Jaguar had one girl. So she really was just kind of fat like we figured, since we estimated 4-6 puppies. Her name is Uno. I shouldn't have to explain that.

Lifestyle Changes

2009-08-08T15:51:00.000-07:00

I'm on this new diet. And before you start jumping all over me because diets are the devil and all that, let me explain:

It's called the Conscious Diet.

Ever heard of it?

Well, that's because it doesn't exist. Technically.

Although the basis of it is well documented and is preached by all dietitians and doctors who really give a rat's ass about their patients' health.

Basically, you just have to be conscious about what you eat. Reading the labels, approximating calorie counts and ensuring you get enough exercise to be running a caloric deficit on a daily basis. It also means paying attention to the things your body tells you. If things aren't digesting well, you should not be consuming them. After years of ignoring what my body is telling me in regards to dairy, I've finally decided to stop just dabbling in soy and give up (most of) my beloved dairy and Lactaid pills in favor of it. And my body is thanking me. When I say most of, things like cheese (in moderation) and yogurt have never been an issue for me. Plus yogurt is extremely beneficial and vegan cheese is disgusting.

You have to make smarter choices. You have to think about everything that passes between your lips. I used to be under the impression that the 1-3 steeped teas (with 3 creams and sugars) I consumed daily with friends at Timmy's weren't doing me THAT much harm. They were. Since giving those up, I have not only lost weight, but feel more energetic without and know that I can depend on caffeine as a pick-me-up when I desperately need it.

Yes, this diet is part of the reason that I've given up meat. It had more to do with me finally realizing I needed to start respecting my body than it did with any sort of heartache for the suffering animals in slaughterhouses.

Although I can't deny that it played a role, too. Being friends with someone who works on the 'kill floor' of the biggest slaughterhouse in town means I was often subjected to long stories about running out of ammo and needing to slaughter pigs with dull knives (yes, this is actually not legal, but you are naive if you believe it doesn't happen). Or having to endure the stench of bloody boots in the car on a hot day for after-work coffee.

Since I was young, red meat has been pretty well indigestible for me. However, I grew up in a very meat-and-potatoes household, and not eating meat as a child was not an option. My parents did the best they could by trying to provide poultry options whenever available, but ours was a household where money was often tight and other options were often not available due to budgetary constraints.

By the time I'd moved out on my own, I'd just grown accustomed to the cramps and other digestion problems, consuming red meat resulted in. Plus having to cook a meal for one on an even tighter budget than I'd grown up with, often meant that I would buy whatever was on sale -- usually ground beef.

In my early twenties I started developing a plethora of digestion and gastro-intestinal problems -- irritable bowel syndrome, lactose intolerance, a gastric ulcer and several other things. For one year I followed the strictest diet I could muster in order to heal my stomach and GI tracts, and afterward felt better than I had in a long time.

Old habits die hard, though.

Although I avoided heavy meats like steak, roast and chops, I still liked burgers, sandwich meat, sausage, ground beef and chicken. Even though the majority of those things made me pay the price later.

I've since replaced them with super affordable vegetarian-friendly options like tofu, faux meats (Yves makes an awesome ground beef sub called Veggie Ground Round which works great) and just plain old vegetables. Cooking has become something of a passion for me again. Tonight's dinner is whole wheat lasagna with spinach, the aforementioned Veggie Ground Round, Grilled Eggplant, peppers and cottage cheese. And it's fantastic. And cheap. It takes me probably twice the time to shop (reading labels, even when just skimming for pertinent details, is time consuming) and costs me half of what it used to.

But if you're pressed for time, nothing beats some sliced cucumber, celery, red peppers and carrots as a snack. If you think it's not filling, I beg to differ. It's a lunchtime standby for me when I'm pressed for time on my break.

Just in case you still have your doubts, I just did my daily weigh-in, and I have dropped...

11 pounds in a month.

No kidding.

This in addition to increased energy, clearer skin and a more positive outlook on life. Plus, the kicker -- no more stomach pain. I could also tell you about the ease with which I... But I won't. Use your imagination.

But I'm not telling you to do as I've done. If you can stomach dairy and meat, and enjoy them both, continue enjoying, but in moderation.

Like everything in life, eating should be done in moderation. You can still enjoy pizza, but enjoy a SLICE of pizza, as opposed to HALF the pizza (as I've been guilty of doing in the past).

Contemplate and enjoy your food.

I know many people tell you to stop eating in front of the TV and if I have learned anything, it's that they're right. If you have to focus on your food instead of on the pictures flashing on the screen in front of you, it takes longer to eat, and consequently you fill fuller faster than if you were eating like a madman while catching old Fresh Prince reruns. As someone who HAS been guilty of eating half (or more) of a pizza while watching a movie, I've now realized that one piece is perfectly sufficient if I eat it while standing in my kitchen, or sitting at my table.

Get outside. All across Canada we're experiencing this wonderful season known as SUMMER. It's a great time of year and only lasts for a few short months. Go for a jog. Walk to the store to get groceries. Take your dog outside for a romp in the park and a game of frisbee.

I am extremely fortunate (and a lot of you are going to snicker at this, but it's TRUE) that I've never owned a car and despise driving with a passion I normally only reserve for slow moving Japanese tourists with big cameras, so I've ALWAYS had to walk anywhere I want to go. Except where a friend could drive me. And in a town this size, driving usually meant going for dinner/coffee/drinks or groceries. Because I don't have my own wheels, I've never been dependent on them (unless I need to go to my parents' place, since 40 minutes by car would mean about 2.5 hours on foot), so I AM fortunate that I can't just decide to drive for groceries instead of walking and getting 15-20 minutes of exercise that way.

One of the only things I'll miss when I leave is the relatively short distances almost anywhere I need to go in this town. 15 minutes of a moderate walk can put me at the library, grocery store, post office, bar or (unfortunately) Tim Hortons. Finding a place that is central enough to walk to get groceries in the city might be a little easier said than done.

Don't let you get away with anything! If you think that your body is unaware of that piece of cake you're cramming down your gullet, think again. But adversely, don't worry so much about it that you turn to food to feel good about the world again. Food is a wonderful, wonderful thing, that should be treasured and enjoyed, not viewed as an enemy. A piece of cake if you are CONSCIOUS about it can still be enjoyed. Just remember that you had it. Walk a little longer tomorrow.

In any case, I'm far from perfect, too, otherwise I wouldn't have found myself in the pickle I did a month ago when I weighed myself and discovered I had packed on *gulp* 30 pounds since this time last year. View this entry not as a lecture, but motivation that really simple changes CAN change your life and how you view yourself.

An Addendum

2009-08-04T19:16:00.000-07:00

2 minutes after I posted my last entry, my office phone rang and it was my mom. Turns out that in a fit of sleep deprivation I may have volunteered to whelp the puppies while she went to the Clint Black concert with dad tonight.

Since this is my first time delivering a litter completely solo, I was a little nervous but things seem to be going well so far. *knock wood*

Puppy #1, a big grey male made his appearance shortly before my arrival.

Puppy #2, a black male just made his entrance around 20 minutes ago.

And here I sit, just me, 2 pregnant dogs in labour and my computer.. waiting.

How to Fill Your Workday...

2009-08-04T16:20:00.000-07:00

I challenge you to find your own creative way to stretch 15 minutes of work into a 7.5 hour work day.

I knew today was going to be slow for me since the people I require to be in the office to give me paperwork to work with are all out of town today.

7 times today I asked my boss if there was something I could be doing. Finally she gave me an Excel spreadsheet to format, and asked me to pull some staples out of some old information brochures. 5 minutes later, I was bored again.

Don't get me wrong, I feel awful for having shirked away the entire working day, but I'm at wit's end as to what to do with myself.

Things I did with my work day:

Discovered the difference between 'pastries' and 'pasties'. I thought Bill Bryson just had a slacker editor in "Notes from a Small Island", but it turns out a 'pasty' is actually a Cornish pastry, which makes it different from a regular 'pastry'.. well, I'm not really sure how. Except the kinds of pastries we're accustomed to generally aren't filled with turnip, potato and steak, and pasties are.

Paid bills.

Worked on my budget for the next few months, including color-coding and highlighting all un-necessary costs on my bank statement (ie., cigarettes, daily tea at Timmie's, cutesie earrings, cases of beer and concert tickets).

Discovered I have spent over $1100 this past month on entertainment and cigarettes.

Tried to justify that over $600 was spent on a week away in Edmonton.

Pilfered beautiful pictures of places I hope to one day see, but will for now be satisfied seeing as a screensaver on my work computer. See Maldives.

Talked to my mom twice. And was disappointed by a lack of puppy news both times.

Made lists of things I need to: do, sell, give away, buy and throw out.

Made lists of people I need to call.

Ate over half my coworker's jellybeans.

Google Earthed all 6 of the prospective places I have to live in the city.

Had Google Earth map out the exact distance and directions from home to work (0.4 km, which the program figures to be about a 45 second walk).

Wondered why I'm consistently late coming back from lunch if I only live 45 seconds away from work.

Shredded old bank and credit card statements (which I brought from home after lunch, when I was late).

Looked at pictures of people's European vacations, and instantly wished I were there again, instead of here.

Played with 'Milton', my red Swingline.

Hydrated my cuticles (The Body Shop Almond Oil Nail & Cuticle Treatment)

Called 2 people on my list of people to call.

Texted some friends/coworkers who may be in town over the next few days to figure out a rendezvous.

Stared at the clock.

At the time of writing, it is currently 4:20 (fantastic, right?) and I have exactly 10 minutes left.

I think I need to pee.

A Great Big Ugly Fork in my Road

2009-08-02T21:02:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it. For the past 6 months I have been depressed beyond belief. Most people close to me are already well aware, since my good days are met with extreme enthusiasm and my bad days are met with offers to go for coffee for the 17th time that day (pretty well the only social activity I seem to enjoy lately).

I made this absolutely HUGE decision back in January for all of the wrong reasons and not once in making that decision did I stop and think "Are you being realistic?".

I wasn't.

I had this idea that in sticking around, everything would pan out just as it should, and that I'd eventually grow accustomed to life in my hometown and everything it entailed. I'd develop a stronger relationship with my family, better bonds with my friends here, take my degree without distraction and try life in town as opposed to a 40 minute drive outside. Plus I met my apartment and fell in love.

But now, 6 months later I've realized how not myself I've been feeling. How lonely I am almost all the time. How much I miss the people and experiences I've had away from here. How hot a South facing apartment gets in the heat of the summer.

I'm tired of feeling reliant and of not being able to do or experience the things I love because of distance or time constraints.

Granted, I have an awesome job with fantastic coworkers and I get paid well to do what I do, but it's not perfect and ultimately I need to have an awesome personal life, too, in order to feel happy.

This town is not where I will find the man/the job/the home of my dreams, and I've always known that, but have remained eternally optimistic that the tide would turn and somehow one of those things would appear here. I think I let my optimism get in the way of my more realistic side.

So here I stand -- not at a crossroads -- but at a fork going in 3 different directions.

One loops back here, and I know that's the road I can only take in the direst of circumstances. The other 2 lead off into directions both familiar and unfamiliar. I'm leaning towards walking down the one path without a second thought, but something about the other seems to beckon and isn't altogether discounted. It's a difficult decision, and I've been standing here for almost the entirety of this past half-year debating.

I know many people in my life believe I've made the decision to go down the one path due to a man, and while a man -- and the distance between us -- plays a minor role, rest assured he was not the catalyst for the decision. He came along months after the thought first crossed my mind and besides I've learned my lesson about staying or going based on the whims of someone special in your life, and have made the decision that where I choose to go should be dependent on how happy I believe I will be there.

Yes, there's a man of interest. And it's no surprise that trying to get to (re)know one another over a distance of 500+ kms is no small task.

It doesn't alleviate the situation when things like touchy satellite internet and no cellphone reception hinder your ability to communicate with each other effectively through the long distance.

Anyway, back to the point...

Although there is a person of interest, he's still just that and not the love of my life or rather even someone I am in love with. He just has the capacity to make my new life elsewhere more enjoyable than the one I have here, and things like fun are weighing heavily in my decision based on the trace quantities available here.

I wish I knew what the future held and which one of the two decisions I'm debating was the road to success. I'd hate to discover that a year from now, I'm just making the same mistake over again, instead of trying something a different way in hopes of obtaining a different result.

On another note, I will be abandoning this blog shortly in favour of starting another less public blog (see "Fishbowl" if you're confused). Those wonderful readers who have been with me over the past 5 years here are welcome to contact me privately for the new address.

PS. I dropped all meat from my diet about a week ago now. There's been a gradual lead up where I was cutting out most meat, but the transition is pretty well complete now after one quickie McD's binge. My roommate is going to hate me when he comes home and sees all the tofu and fake meat in the freezer.

Hotel for Dogs

2009-06-12T00:55:00.000-07:00

While I'm a little ashamed to admit I spent the evening watching a kid's movie, I will admit that I DID in fact watch the movie "Hotel for Dogs" tonight and thought it was immensely cute. Anyway who knows me would understand why a movie starring so many dogs would appeal, even if the acting was atrocious and the plot line was pretty contrived.

I do, however, hate it when breeds don't get credited correctly, so I did a little bit of research on the dogs and I think I've credited all those named correctly.

In alphabetical order:

Angela - Longhaired Chihuahua
Bix - Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier (possibly a cross)
Chelsea - Pitbull
Coco - Spinone Italiano
Cooper - Bulldog
Elsa - German Shepherd Dog
Frick and Frack - Pugs
Friday - Wirehaired Jack Russell Terrier
Georgia - Boston Terrier
Gus - Border Terrier
Harley - Beagle
Henry - Beauceron
Jessica - Siberian Husky
Juliet - Miniature Poodle
Lenny - Mastiff (English)
Madison - Crossbreed
Ralphie - Bearded Collie
Rocky - Bullmastiff
Romeo - Chinese Crested
Shep - Border Collie
Snicker - Yorkshire Terrier
Tyson - Pitbull Mix (But I'm almost inclined to say Canaan Dog -- too bad he didn't get more face time)
Viola and Sebastian - Standard Wirehaired Dachshund

Un-named and uncredited breeds include: Afghan Hound, Alaskan Malamute, Australian Shepherd, Basset Hound, Bichon Frise, Bloodhound, Boxer, Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Chinese Sharpei, English Cocker Spaniel, English Springer Spaniel, German Shorthaired Pointer, Great Dane, Golden Retriever, Japanese Chin, Labrador Retriever, Lhasa Apso, Papillon, Rat Terrier, Rough Collie, Shih Tzu, Standard Poodle

While I can understand that many of the dog breeds are probably unidentified (or misidentified) due to the fact that many of the stars were shelter rescue dogs, I know I'm not the only one who wants to know which dog is which breed.

Hooray Apathy!

2009-06-05T18:55:00.000-07:00

I'm not even sure what I did when I was angry about something prior to blogging. Sometimes I feel like I rant far too much on here.

Anyway...

I am tired of feeling like someone's enabler.

An old friend of mine clearly has an alcohol abuse problem and after declaring that I would no longer spend time with him unless he started admitting that he had a problem, and making an effort to get help for it, he decided he was going to quit drinking altogether.

While not believing this was the wisest course of action (has cold turkey ever REALLY worked for anyone?), I fully supported his decision, and decided I would plan some sober nights in so he could have social interaction but still steer clear of alcohol.

Tonight was supposed to be the first night, so I declined all other offers of plans and set to work trying to come up with ideas to keep him entertained and happy all night.

Other mutual friends doubted his sincerity in this quest for sobriety, but like a sucker, I believed every word he said.

Surprise!

He got off work, called me and told me he had some errands to run before he came over.

Turns out those errands consisted of going to his going to a buddy's house to drink. Apparently he has a 'reason' for drinking tonight, but can't tell me over the phone what it is. Methinks it likely has something to do with some error in judgment he made WHEN he was drinking, but regardless, I'm done with being the supportive friend to someone who hasn't been much of a friend, period.

Fishbowl

2009-05-27T00:21:00.000-07:00

One of the things I used to enjoy the most about blogging was that my posts didn't necessarily have to make sense or to have a point. They were just an amalgamation of random thoughts popping into my head at various points in my life. More than anything -- even more than further proof to my nearest and dearest that I am clearly insane -- it has served as a sort of time capsule for me. I love the fact that I have been blogging since 2004 and can look back at various points and relive certain moments. Suffice it to say I am a very nostalgic person.

The past few days I have been very disappointed in (at, about) people in general. I am disappointed in the lack of honesty, the lack of understanding and the lack of tolerance in many of the people I've met or know. It's not necessarily a good point for a prospective psych major to reach, but I suppose being interested in people means that sometimes one becomes emotionally involved in people, and thus has the capacity to be disappointed by them.

I don't honestly recall being disappointed like this anywhere else but here, in my hometown. Way back in 2001 I graduated from high school and decided I would prefer to be anywhere but here. I sent my boyfriend off to college in Edmonton, and made my way to the small town of Jasper, where I set to work carving out my own niche and life.

Eventually I moved on, finding Jasper too small still, and over the past 8 years, I floated from place to place like a good little gypsy, but invariably found myself back here for some reason or another. Every time I came back I felt like I was in a time warp. People here still acted the same, still bickered and gossiped over the same things, and were still just as intolerant of anyone different as they always were.

I envy people who grew up in cities for this very reason.

When I made the decision to stay here, back in February (granted, for a lot of the wrong reasons) I made a promise to myself that I would stay out the soap opera that is life in a small town. I would throw myself 100% into school, focus on the good friendships I had, spend more time with my family and separate myself from situations where the potential to become gossip fodder was likely.

Sadly, focusing on at least one friendship in particular has brought me back into public focus, and I should not have been so naive to believe that I was capable of blending in enough to avoid scrutiny again. It was a regrettable decision, and one I hope to never have the poor judgment to repeat.

Facebook has also played a huge role in creating bad situations. I have to be more aware that life in a fishbowl is intensified when you narrate it yourself via status messages (or in some cases, have it narrated for you via bogus status messages typed by dumb friends). It's also put me in touch with some people who prove that, 1) Some people take high school and the situations it presented FAR too seriously, 2) People will always claim to 'know' you, but invariably they know NOTHING about you, and 3) You can take 'em out of their small town, but you can't take the small town out of them.

I heard a good quote once, and I sometimes have to remind myself of it:

"Never respect the opinions of those people you don't respect yourself"

But as easy as it is to pretend like you're impervious to harsh criticism, and to act like you're indifferent to what others think of you, I know very few people that can follow through with that line of thinking. I wish I were one.

My Type

2009-05-25T01:58:00.000-07:00

"What is your type?"

This seems to be a popular question posed to me lately, so I figured why not fill in a blogging void with my own personal boy wishlist? I kind of feel like a female version of Gary and Wyatt from Weird Science, except I'm not actually creating my dream man, just dreaming.

Most people that know me well know I am a sucker for a guy with glasses and dark, curly hair. I think I'm probably meant to end up with a Jewish guy, but considering my dismal past experiences with invasive parentals, it could be a recipe for disaster.

That's not to say that a blonde or a redhead might not eventually steal my heart, but a guy with dark hair is far more likely to turn my head.

While, I don't like to focus on physical attributes, tall men with beautiful eyes and strong arms are also personal head-turners.

Intelligent men are a must. As are honest ones, funny ones, naughty ones, and REAL ones. A reasonable libido is also helpful.

Other favored qualities include being:

-Flexible (and I don't mean that I value doublejointed men -- I can't stand rigid people who are stubborn and completely set in their ways and refuse to entertain an idea that they didn't think of themselves).
-A good conversationalist.
-Spontaneous.
-Good with animals.
-Supportive.
-Caring.
-FUN.
-Goal Oriented.
-Independent.
-Humble (boys need to learn to ask for directions).

Considering the only man I've ever loved was a WOW playing, Star Wars figurine collecting Mac-Cult member with a DeLorean, I'd say it's safe to say I kind of have a thing for geeks, too. Corina understands.

That was fun.

I should dream up Mr. Right more often.

Bah -- Weekends

2009-05-16T00:17:00.001-07:00

Ha Ha -- fooled ya. Three posts in April and it looked like I might be back to blogging regularly, until almost a month blows by with not even a random picture to let everyone know I'm alive. It's a good thing my followers are also my Facebook friends and my blog isn't the only "Is she alive?" gauge I have, otherwise I'd like to think I'm important enough to SOME people that someone somewhere would be worried.

I'm giving up on weekends. I know that was my FB status last weekend, but I really truly tried to focus on the fact that it's Victoria Day on Monday, and ignoring the Saturday/Sunday combo just prior to it so I could be true to my word.

See, for anyone who wasn't paying attention, 2 weekends ago, things were going swimmingly until I got a frantic phone call from Mom asking me to meet her at the vet clinic ASAP. Kristy and I disengaged from our coffee/suntanning and dutifully went.

As it turns out, Sugar (my mom's current superstar) was very lethargic, vomiting and convulsing, so after an hour of mopping up vast amounts of drool, watching her have a seizure and listening to the results from the battery of tests she underwent, we finally had a result. Oddly enough, Sugar was suffering from acute WATER intoxication resulting in a potassium deficiency or 'hypokalemia'. Turns out (as crazy as it may sound), drinking large amounts of water can actually be very detrimental to your health (check this out if you're in doubt). Fast forward 4 very boring hours of sitting on the vet office floor while Sugar was rigged to an IV and we eventually had our maniac back, but it was still extremely scary. I can safely say if I go the rest of my life without ever seeing another dog have a seizure, I'd be fine with it. The scariest part was that she was a little less than an hour from her internal organs shutting down. A little food for thought for pet owners as we approach the hot summer months -- monitor your pet's water intake.

After averting crisis #1, I went home, exhausted and promptly fell asleep. The next day as Kristy and I were grocery shopping, I got a phone call from mom who mentioned the neighbours down the road had started a substantial brush fire. She was nonchalant about it since the volunteer fire department was already on the scene working to put it out, and she had a full cistern of water at her disposal in case it spread. An hour later, I receive an increasingly more frantic phone call that her power is now out, rendering her cistern water inaccessible without the use of the electric pump. Within half an hour, I receive the third phone call of the night informing me she may have to evacuate soon as the fire had spread.

To a normal household, evacuation might be a stressful experience, but in her situation, it was beyond that. 13 dogs and a horse make it no easy task.

So Kristy and I fuel up and head out to the farm to go lend a hand and prevent mom from having a total breakdown.

By the time we got there things were pretty much under control, though, so we helped make coffee for the firefighters and checked out the damage so far. At about 9, we were tired, so we headed back to town, leaving the fire crew to their work and mom in considerably better spirits.

Then last weekend, as per usual, Kristy and I were chilling out having a coffee and people watching when my phone rings with a call from Home. Since I know full well my mom is on the plane home from Vancouver, I'm puzzled but I pick up. It's my dad, wondering if I can come pick up my brother who has evidently broke his shoulder in a dirt biking accident.

We meet him outside of town, and he rushes back to Grande Prairie to pick up mom. We take Garhett to the hospital, where they diagnose him with a fractured clavicle. Garhett whines that it might prevent him from going out again the next day -- as if that's the worst of his worries.

Amazingly, Mother's Day went off without a hitch.

All this week, I've been excited about camping. While a few friends have bailed already, Kristy, my friend Rick, and I were still very gungho about going. Rick had taken Friday off to drive here from Edmonton, and despite the warnings about snow, we still decided we'd make the most of May Long.

Last night I receive a phone call from Rick. His fuel pump in his car appears to be shot, so he'll be delayed by a day while he gets it fixed. I remain optimistic.

This morning another call: it's not the fuel pump, it's something BEHIND the fuel pump, and probably won't be fixed until Tuesday. I'm bummed about not getting to hang with him, but remain optimistic that Ms. K and I can still do something this weekend in order to salvage it.

Tonight we decide to go for coffee and on our way to Tim Hortons we hear something every car owner fears... a loud Kah-thunk sound, followed by rattling, followed by hissing air. Something punctured the tire of the car.

So here I sit at 10 to 1 in the morning, hoping a tire shop is open in the morning in order to replace the tire and thinking our w.e.e.k.e.n.d. plans are pretty much shot if not.

Oh boy.

If you're the one who placed the weekend curse on me, let me know. We can work out our differences some other way.

Melaleuca

2009-04-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

Kristy got into Melaleuca a few months ago, and rather than me signing up myself (and thus taking on the responsibility of trying to find 35 points or $75 worth of product myself every month to keep my membership active -- you can apparently buy without a membership, but at a substantially more expensive price), I've been combining orders with her to help her make her quota. I'm always pretty skeptical about signing up for anything that requires a large commitment out of me (except university, for obvious reasons), and it helps her out, too. Thus far, I haven't been disappointed with any of the products, but there have only been a few that have really impressed me. That combined with the high price tags attached to many of their products leads me to believe that it probably won't be a long term thing for either of us.

The thing that really irks me is that I literally cannot find any reviews on how the products actually work before I try them myself. I'm kind of apprehensive about buying any health or cleaning product unless I know someone who has tried it, or have heard what a wonder product it is via blogs or the like, but a search for "Melaleuca Product Reviews" on Google, results in a lot of websites about what a wonderful (or horrible) company Melaleuca is, and nothing on the individual products themselves. Many of the webpages are from someone posting a complaint about the website with a billion comments following from Melaleuca reps defending the company and writing testimonials on how the company and it's products have changed people's lives. Which products though? And why?

So I figured I'd write a few brief reviews on the products I have used thus far in case people are going through the same hesitation I am. Keep in mind, all prices are Canadian, and all opinions are my own. I should also mention that the biggest appeal behind Melaleuca products is that they are diluted with water (in the case of most cleaners listed), so they are meant to be mixed and last longer than their diminutive size would suggest.

The Gold Bar® 127 g Bar
Regular Price: $7.50
Member Price: $4.99

A Better Way to Clean.
Only The Gold Bar combines unparalleled cleansing benefits with Melaleuca Oil and natural skin-softening conditioners to leave skin revitalized, refreshed, and naturally soft. You´ll love its generous lather and light citrus scent. Plus, it is french-milled to last up to three times longer than ordinary soap.

The Gold Bar was one of the few products I did find a review on, and although I hesitated about paying $5 for a bar of soap when a 4 pack of my Jergens costs me around $3, the review was glowing about it's disinfecting and deodorizing properties. Figuring summer is just around the corner, and like any person who walks a lot, and has a penchant for flip flops, my feet could probably use a little more deodorizing. My first impression of the soap is that it smells strongly of tea tree oil (Melaleuca alternifolia, which is obviously the inspiration behind the company's name and is quite a distinctive scent) and not at all citrus-y. The ugly yellow of the bar is kind of offputting, and it does leave ugly yellow residue wherever it has been set to rest (in my case, on the roommate's shower caddy -- sorry Shaun!). While it does seem to work wonderfully at deodorizing, it also leaves my skin with a strong tea tree scent, and tends to dry me out, which is contrary to their so called exclusive 3-in-1 moisturizing complex included in the soap. I try using it sparingly on parts of my body that people don't normally cozy up to (like the aforementioned feet), and for that, it does the trick. Elsewhere, I could happily pass. I don't think I would purchase it again. Although I am a little intrigued by the Melaleuca Platinum Bar™ as it's glycerine and apricot scented. If I purchase it, I may write a brief review on that, as well.

Dermatin™ Antifungal Cream 14 g tube
Regular Price: $15.50
Member Price: $10.73

Powerful clotrimazole kills most fungal infections. To be used for athlete's foot, ringworm and jock itch.

I'm probably getting far more personal than I want to, but I think most people suffer from a mild case of athlete's foot, especially in this climate where we bundle our extremities up for 6+ months of the year to stay warm. Feet very rarely get a chance to breath, and consequently by the time summer rolls around, our feet need some TLC. I figured some Antifungal cream would probably be in order to get my tootsies ready for summer, so I ordered a tube of cream for the pre-summer pedis I am starting. The tube is very small. I suppose I probably should have paid greater attention to the size, but suffice it to say I was not expecting to spend $11 for such a tiny tube of cream. Like the Gold Bar it smells strongly of tea tree oil, and I recommend applying it with cotton balls so your hands don't reek like the stuff afterwards. I've mentioned it has a distinctive odor, somewhat similar to lavender, but not entirely different from turpentine, either. If you aren't a big fan of those scents, the smell of this product will be extremely offputting to you, since it smells strongly. It does stop itchy feet though, and I will admit my feet even feel healthier after application. Plus, tea tree oil leaves sort of a tingly sensation, similar to mint, which is pretty refreshing. I'm not 100% sold on it, yet, but by the end of the tube, I will have made up my mind, one way or another.

Zap-it!® Pack includes Zap-it!® Facial Wash (177 mL bottle), Zap-it!® Deep Cleaning Astringent (237 mL bottle), Zap-it!® Acne Treatment Cream (30 mL tube) and Zap-it!® Quick Stick (8.9 mL bottle)

Regular Price: $33.50
Member Price: $23.41

All four Zap-it! products in a convenient acne-fighting pack.

This was another product(s) that I found online reviews for, and many people were touting it as a healthier, less invasive alternative to the dreaded Proactiv. Figuring the price was right for 4 products, I bit. All of the products can be purchased individually, as well.

First off I will say the Acne Treatment cream must be applied VERY lightly. It is not a very absorbent cream, and will leave a telltale white residue on your skin, in addition to also smelling very strongly of melaleuca. I am not a fan.

My favorite product in the pack is the Quick Stick which contains salicylic acid in addition to the melaleuca oil. It is the best product that I have found for clearing up painful cystic pimples, and does a number on the little spots, drying them up in the matter of a night. Apply lightly though, and only on pimples -- the drying effect is quite strong.

The facial wash isn't bad. I use it daily in the shower and find it a light, mildly refreshing face wash. I can't say my skin looks more glorious than it did a month ago when I first started using it, but it tends to keep oil at bay. Rinse well, though. I find a cursory rinse is not enough to rid your face of all residue.

Finally, the astringent works well in my opinion. It is strong, though, and I wouldn't recommend it for sensitive skin. Since I have an olive complexion and tend to have oily/combination skin, I find it refreshes and closes up pores nicely. On some of the more sensitive parts of my face (around my lips and eyes), it leaves light redness, so again, apply lightly. It does have a fairly strong drying effect.

I'm not sure I'd purchase the entire pack again. I do like how mild the face wash is, and might purchase that again soon, especially since used daily for a month, it's dwindling rapidly. The astringent goes a long way, and since it's the only astringent I'm using currently, is good for the price. The Quick Stick is a definite repurchase, although like the astringent will last me several months at least. I will pass on the cream. I found it much too drying, the strong smell off-putting and the effects of using it very minimal with the rest of the regime.

MelaBrite® 6x Color-Safe Brightener 946 mL or 2.8 L bottles

Regular Price: $50.50 or $20.00 for 946 mL
Member Price: $35.32 or $13.85

Introducing super concentrated MelaBrite 6x! EcoSense now gives you the power to have a cleaner, safer home, help the environment, save money and make a difference.

Operating much like a color-safe bleach, the idea behind this is that it's a safer, more biodegradable option to regular chlorine bleach.

It has a nice, fresh scent and doesn't wash out or lighten darks (I accidentally dumped a capful into a dark load when I was doing laundry the last time), but that being said I'm still not 100% certain it whitens whites as much as regular Javex does. Melaleuca sells a laundry stain remover that I haven't purchased yet (although Kristy has and says it works like a charm) since I bought a brand new bottle of Shout just before I moved in. Since I'm sort of mix and matching regular name brands with Melaleuca products, I'm on the fence about it's effectiveness until I have the opportunity to use both Melaleuca products at the same time. I already know Shout works great on stains.

The fresh scent is a nice touch with my clothes, although I don't know that the hefty price tag is worth it. Yes, bleach probably breaks down my clothing fibres like there's no tomorrow, but stains are gone and a bottle of Javex costs me less than $3. Wish this were a little more affordable.

No Work® Daily Shower Cleaner 473 mL bottle

Regular Price: $11.50
Member Price: $7.76

A spray a day is all you need to maintain a sparkling clean shower.

I am a huge advocate of daily shower cleaners since I HATE scrubbing bathtubs and showers with disgusting soap scum (but unfortunately also hate dirty showers and bathtubs). This product already seems to be an excellent value, since you dilute it with water, and each 473 mL bottle turns into three 24-ounce bottles. The biggest drawback is that you either have to have a spare spray bottle or buy theirs for $1.99 (which gives you no points towards your 25 point quota) in order to mix it. Since I'm thrifty (or cheap, whatever) I hung onto my Tilex bottle once it was done, cleaned it well and mixed the No Work in that. It has a nice, fresh scent and seems to be keeping the soap scum and mineral stains at bay. You can also buy this product in a "Pantry Pack" (sort of like buying in bulk) of 2 for a bit more in the way of savings. That was actually the route I took, figuring I use shower cleaner at least once a day and will probably easily use up both bottles in the next few months. So far, I'm impressed.

MelaGel® 14 g gel tube OR 12 g balm disc

Regular Price: $15.00
Member Price: $10.19

Topical gel/balm with melaleuca oil that helps heal cuts, scrapes and insect bites.

This was another product that I had found online reviews for. Figuring this would likely be a good substitute for Polysporin (which I try to always keep on hand, but was oddly out of), I bought the gel tube. I've already had 2 occasions to use it -- once for a badly stubbed toe, and once for a cat scratch (my cat abhors being brushed), and both times it worked pretty well at healing the wound nicely, without leaving a scar. It's supposed to work well on burns, as well, so I'll be packing it in my first aid kit to take camping on May Long weekend, since I historically always get burned making campfires. For now, I'm happy, although again, the price could be a touch lower.

Fresh Mint Tooth Polish 108 g tube

Regular Price: $7.00
Member Price: $4.67

Gently brighten with the power of pure papain enzymes— minus the harsh abrasives of other formulas.

I'm pretty sold on my regular brand of toothpaste -- Sensodyne-F Brilliant Whitening. I have pretty big problems with tooth sensitivity, as well as stains from my daily tea and nicotine habits. That being said, I was open to the idea of trying something new, and we were a few bucks short on our order last month.

The Melaleuca brand doesn't promise to help sensitive teeth, but since they're always touting melaleuca oil as the miracle cure to everything, I thought I'd give it a shot.

They say the papain enzymes (extracted from papayas) in this tooth polish help naturally break down and eliminate stains on your teeth, as opposed to just bleaching them. No word yet on whether my teeth are actually whiter, but they aren't sore yet. I may come back and do a re-edit after another few weeks of using this.

So in conclusion, the definite re-purchases from Melaleuca are the Zap-it!® Quick Stick, MelaGel® and the No Work® Daily Shower Cleaner. The rest I'm either too uncertain about yet to give a definite yes to, or wouldn't purchase again. I'm sure I'll encounter more products that I love, hate and feel indifferent about, and I'll attempt to do my best to post a few more reviews. Also, I feel I should mention that Kristy has tried several products not mentioned here and been satisfied with several. The above are only the products I have personally tried, thus far.

My biggest wish is that Melaleuca would rethink their Sun Valley™ Home & Linen Mist packaging. They state that most home fragrances come in aerosols containing CFCs, but a glance at the back of my bottle of Febreze Air Effects (the limited edition Moroccan Bazaar scent, which I HIGHLY recommend if you like spicy amber-like scents) confirms what most people already knew... CFCs are illegal to import into Canada, and thus NO home fragrances contain CFCs. The easy to use plastic spray nozzle on the Air Effects is a lot easier to use than the pump spray bottle on the Home & Linen Mist. That kind of irks me since it seems like they're capitalizing on a consumer's ignorance in order to make cheaper packaging in the name of being more 'green'. That being said, I'd still like to try the Cucumber and Green Tea scented Home & Linen Mist, because I'm a sucker for those light, refreshing sort of scents, but I think their choice of packaging just sort of sucks.

Back Before I Blogged

2009-04-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

I was cleaning out my hope chest today and came across something that gave me a chuckle.

Someone is going to recognize the book in the picture immediately, but for the rest of you I'll give a bit of backstory:

Way back in 2001, I moved to the mountain resort town of Jasper, AB and in with one of the most fantastic people I've ever known -- my honorary big sister, Corina.

I got this journal shortly after I moved there and it became a collaborative effort between Corina and I at chronicling our daily movements back before websites like Blogger, Facebook and Twitter allowed you to share the same with the world at large.

We'd write little snippets about people we'd met, our job (we both worked front desk at the Athabasca Hotel), boys we were into, and other notable things (like the day the lounge manager gave me a lemon and a lime, that we immediately Sharpie'd and turned into Lemonhead and Limeface, our citrus-y lovebirds).

After Corina moved back home to Ontario, I tried to keep up the tradition, writing a short 1-4 sentence entry about what I was doing that day. I ended the journal tradition on the very day I left Jasper, since it didn't seem right to continue.

I've been viewing the journal as a bit of a time capsule all afternoon. Kristy and I have been talking a lot recently about how much we've changed and matured over the past 8 years since graduating, and this book seems like a pretty accurate gauge of my 17/18 year old mindset.

I was naive enough to believe a relatively new relationship with a considerably older man would result in a happy engagement and marriage, and naive enough to believe that sleeping with your ex resulted in a reconciliation. I hopped from one relationship to the next, sometimes with scant days between, and was never more than 2 weeks without a male companion of some sort.

I'm still a little boy crazy (although definitely not to the extent that I was there), but I'm not as big of a social butterfly (there are very few entries in there where I was not hosting guests, visiting people, doing coffee/dinner or bar hopping), nor do I view drinking culture with the same excitement I once did. I would never rebound as quickly from a relationship as I did then, and if I can recall, my work ethic has improved exponentially.

The biggest difference, though, is how humbled I feel now in comparison to then. I thought I had the world by it's short-n-curlies and there was nothing I didn't know about anything. If I knew then what I know now, I wonder if I would have been more or less insufferable.

PS. It's my brother Trinity's 22nd birthday today -- Happy Birthday! In the journal on this date in 2002 I wished him a Happy 15th and ate strawberries and chocolate with my friend, Meghan, while we complained about men. Replace 'Meghan' with 'Kristy' and 'strawberries and chocolate' with 'mass amounts of caffeine' and some things never change.

Hey You,

2009-04-08T23:14:00.000-07:00

Person who profoundly impacted my life.

I've been thinking a lot about you and the things you've said, and it occurred to me what a large role you played in shaping who I am today and making me a stronger person.

Thanks.

Contemplating Going Veggie (but not PeTA crazy veggie)

2009-03-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

I watched Fast Food Nation last night, and if you've seen it, I'm sure you were much like me and couldn't stomach the idea of eating cow for several days afterwards.

The thing is that lately I've been supplementing my diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables and I just feel -- better. All around. I bought some ground beef and frozen chicken breasts at the beginning of the month, but the chicken seems to be impossible to cook without getting rubbery and it's been frustrating, so I've pretty well passed on most meat based dishes in the past few weeks.

And yes, I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I heart McDonalds, and even partake in late night binges when I can be sure that no one I know is around to see me (except my Mickey D's cohort, who shall remain anonymous). Things like that, pepperoni and beef jerky (my meat avoidance kryptonite) are going to be tough for me to give up.

The biggest drawback -- besides my guilty pleasures, of course -- is that I hate being a burden on people when I'm a dinner guest, since I was always just taught to eat what was in front of you (except seafood, fish and organ meats -- serve me those if you want to be guaranteed that I'll always hesitate at your dinner invite). Having to make unnecessary restrictions on what your host is serving seems like kind of a pain in the ass move to me. I don't want to be the lone guest at a wedding who can't have the Chicken Kiev.

So I guess for the moment, I'm not going to be all gung ho and convert to a completely vegetarian diet, but it has been something I've contemplated a lot lately. Do they have a term for someone who eats primarily vegetarian options, but has been known to eat, and enjoy, chicken fingers? If there is, I'm dying to know.

More Wanderlust

2009-03-17T22:27:00.000-07:00

Kristy and I caught the much hyped "Slumdog Millionaire" at the theatre tonight. After coming away from it, I wonder if as many people are suddenly as enthusiastic about visiting India as I am. Granted, the concept of Indian slums would be a turn off to many people, but I have to think that for many more, the idea that there is a world just a scant 20 hour flight away so vastly different from our own probably excites more than just me.

Ever since getting back from Europe and meeting several people who had already visited India on their round-the-world tours, I was inspired to do the trip myself.

Now that I've tied myself down to staying in Canada for the next few years, and becoming the cliche 'starving student', I can't see the trip forthcoming for years, but even then, a girl can dream.

Especially about her very own jet-setting sugar daddy. I know for certain I am not the only one with THAT dream.

Feeling Blah

2009-03-11T15:19:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling very blah and lethargic the past few days. I'm having trouble going to sleep at a regular time, or waking up at one for that matter. The past few days I've been waking up at close to noon and then laying in bed and reading until I'm ready to go back to sleep. I'm currently indulging in Freakonomics, which although enlightening and some terrific food for thought (I'm about a third of the way through after starting it 2 days ago), is obviously not the best material for keeping oneself awake.

I'm puzzled, too, because although I had the brief KD lapse on Saturday after going out, I've been eating loads better: having fruit as a snack and vegetables with all my meals, going completely soy if I must have dairy and almost eliminating all red meat, but still I feel like junk. I guess the next step is to get back on my vitamin regime that I was so gungho about after moving in with Mr. V (and which I let lapse in light of all the arguing).

I also made a commitment with myself to get more exercise. The weather has been crap the past week and a bit, but prior to that I went out for a walk to run errands every morning. Lately though, the only time I leave the house is for my nightly coffee 'date' with K.

So I woke up this morning (to the sound of the S.T.A.R.S. chopper delivering some poor soul to the hospital across the street), pushed myself into the shower (and away from this fascinating book) and decided to walk down to the mall to get some cotton balls and some Naan bread for dinner (Mmm, butter chicken!). It's just nice enough that the walk was comfortable and I wasn't frozen, but still cold enough to put some speed in my step. I feel a little better in light of the exercise, and the Green Tea Latte from Starbucks helped a bit, too. Leave it to me to feel blah when the weather finally starts picking up.

I hate to admit that I feel a little lonesome, and maybe that plays a role. One huge part of me wants to call it all off, back down and just apologize for everything I did wrong, and for everything I didn't (but am accused of), so that I have someone to spend every night with, but I know that's not being true to myself. Nor is it going to make me feel better in the long run.

Our laundry room has been out of commission for 6 days now, so the pile of laundry is adding up in my room, which also gets to me since I hate my room being cluttered and dirty. I keep crossing my fingers and checking the door 2-3 times a day hoping it'll be open so I can busy myself folding laundry.

30 Random Songs

2009-03-10T12:51:00.000-07:00

It's been a heckuva (almost) week since my last post, but see? I am getting better about updating, and I promise to as long as I can think of words to put down here.

Things are still remaining complicated on the romantic front -- even more so now that they're supposed to be simplified. This is apparently my fault, but I fail to see how, and am really starting to realize that when it comes to this one, everything will just become my fault, as I play the role of scapegoat far too well.

In any case, I was all revved up for a night out to play a little bit of poker and to watch two testosterone (and likely steroid) fueled men kick the crap out of each other on Saturday night, but seeing as I agreed to allow him to pick me up and give me a lift home afterwards so we could talk, only one of those happened. No worries, though -- if I can convince just one more person to partake, I plan to host a semi regular poker night here at Casa de Penelope the Pink Palatial Palace, or whatever we're calling the apartment today.

Other than that, I guess the reason I wait far too long to post anything is because not much is happening in my life, however I got tagged to do a 30 Random songs on my iPod meme, and because I don't really have a life, can do this from the comfort of the 'bed that hugs back', I adore memes and I don't actually have an iPod but what I affectionately refer to as my iPod Killer, I'll leave you with 30 random songs (I even tried to include the official music video if it was available):

Blue Monday - Orgy
If one song reminds me more of driving around Dawson Creek (without our driver's licenses) in a Volvo, I can't think of it. Granted, it's a niche thing to be reminded of, but I recall Ola and I listening to it -- excessively.

Good Times - Finger Eleven
Sadly this song only reminds me of He-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless, since this song was receiving a decent amount of modrock radio airplay around the time I discovered him cheating. Definitely not because we really had many 'Good Times'.

If I Could Be Like That - 3 Doors Down
I just remember Des Oulette listening to this quietly in South Peace's library computer lab, and whenever the chorus played I sat there quizically wondering why such a sweet sounding song had such an abrupt chorus. This was of course because I was mishearing the lyrics and believing it to be "Fuck me like that" instead of the vastly more appropriate song title. Ask me what I thought CCR was singing instead of "Bad Moon Rising" or Golden Earring instead of "Radar Love". I need to get my hearing checked.

Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap
Rossy was pretty into Imogen shortly before he moved out, and he downloaded several of her songs for my listening pleasure. This is one of my favorites thus far.

World on Fire - Sarah McLachlan
I think this song is beautiful. I literally get goosebumps every time I hear it. The first time I heard it on the radio, I ran home, downloaded it and listening to it 5 times in a row just to keep the goosebumps.

All I Want is You - U2
I actually played this song very recently for someone to set a mood. It didn't work. He doesn't pay attention. Hey guy, all I wanted was you.

Clumsy - Our Lady Peace
I had to listen to this one twice to write my thoughts on it. The first time I was too busy turning up the volume and belting it out, reliving teenage angst in my bedroom like the rocker chick I knew I was really meant to be. Then I checked to make sure Shaun hadn't come home and was listening to me embarrass myself. I heart OLP. They are the last of my 'favorites' that I need to see in concert, and I am psyched to see that they have another release pending, which generally means a tour.

Brick - Ben Folds Five
I was floored to hear that Mr. V had never heard of these guys. I played this song, sure he would recognize it, but to no avail. Seriously, I never thought I would love a song about abortion as much as I love this song. What happened to Ben Folds Five? They inspired me to learn to play the piano. Not that I did or anything...

They also made me want to name my first daughter Kate. And well, obviously that also hasn't happened since I no longer want kids, but for a brief moment, I contemplated calling the cat, Kate before she became Xenia Onatopp (ex boyfriend's influence), so hey, the thought really was there.

Gel - Collective Soul
Are we starting to see a trend with all the 90s Alt-rock on here? You have to love any song that has a chorus that goes:

Let's mingle
And make it well.
Come together now.
Yeah, let's gel.

It kind of makes it like the ultimate party song, dontchathink?

The Perfect Drug - Nine Inch Nails
Back when I was an aspiring music video director, this was the first song that I visualized recreating a video for. I remember buying the "Lost Highway" soundtrack just because this song was on it. Back in late December when Mr. V's sister was hosting a Rock Band night, this song was featured and I surprised myself by knowing every last word to the song -- still.

Ready to Go - Republica
When I quit smoking and was out jogging every morning, this was BAR NONE the best song to motivate me to move my ass. Others might remember it better as the song from a late 90s Mitsubishi ad campaign.

I'm Still Here - John Rzeznik
Although I never saw the Disney movie this was written for ("Treasure Planet"), this song written by the Goo Goo Dolls frontman was played frequently enough on the radio to catch my ear.

Weapon of Choice - Fatboy Slim
Christopher Walken scares the crap out of me. That being said, it's pretty difficult to take him seriously in the music video for this catchy piece of tunage. I also want to tap dance on tables and dance on escalators after watching it.

Summer Romance - Incubus
Makes me want to make love in the grass. Nuff said.

Rock the Casbah - The Clash
Speaking of mishearing lyrics (see If I Could be Like That), my ex coworker at my first job in Edmonton wanted to name her first son 'Sharif' because she assumed that's what they were saying. I still snicker when I hear the song because she would be inadvertently naming her son 'Sheriff', although in this age of 'Apples', 'Cocos' and 'Deacons', 'Sheriff' would probably be very cutting edge. It also brings to mind a very funny Cingular commercial regarding this song. The sheep don't like it. Stop the Catbox!

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic - The Police
This was one of the best concerts I've ever been to, and this is one of my favorite Police songs. I'll always remember hearing this at Commonwealth in the warm summer air. One of the best days of my life.

Banditos - The Refreshments
Several years ago Mr. Roberts turned me onto this radio website where you could look up lesser known artists that sounded like or resembled some of your favorites. The results for 'Green Day' turned these guys up.

Be Yourself - Audioslave
Way back in 2004, Edmonton introduced a Modern Rock radio station called SonicFM. One of my clients excitedly told me about it one morning, and when I tuned into the frequency, this was the very first song I heard. It still reminds me of good ol' Sonic back in their first days. If you're ever in E-town, tune into 102.9 fm and prepare for some cool music.

Walk of Life - Dire Straits
Who doesn't recognize that organ line as soon as this song starts and immediately want to get up and dance? Or do the Walk of Life?

The Kid is Hot Tonight - Loverboy
Right before I left Edmonton I was cleaning a coworker's house for extra cash to pay off my bills after the holidays. One day they were out furniture shopping, and I was cleaning and listening to one of his 80's CDs and this little gem came on. So there I am rocking out with a Swiffer in my best impression of an eighties hair band frontman when I hear giggling from behind me and his wife standing there with their incredibly hot son. They saw everything. This is why I check to make sure my roommate isn't home before I get really involved in my music. My cat is used to the insanity.

Mr. Tambourine Man - The Byrds
I've never really liked the Dylan version of this song, preferring the Brit-folk version instead. It reminds me of when CJDC used to play Oldies late at night. I fell asleep to the classics every night.

A Whiter Shade of Pale - Procol Harum
This song is hauntingly beautiful. And iconic. And I can't say that it really reminds me of anything except maybe the same thing as the song above.

SHE - Green Day
It goes without saying that if I found The Refreshments while searching for Green Day, I should have at least one of their songs on my thirty randoms list. This song reminds me of, well, me. Listen to the lyrics and see if you can figure out why.

Marsh Lagoon - Twiztid
My broski turned me onto this song at a point in my life where I darkly dreamed of dumping my ex's body into a Marsh Lagoon myself. Bastard. It was a good release.

Crazy - Seal
We're never gonna survive, unless we get a little -- crazy. Right? Still one of my favorite songs after all these years.

Follow you Down - Gin Blossoms
Again with the 90s rock, right? I think anyone who liked Alternative Rock in the 90s had a soft spot for these guys. Following "Hey Jealousy", this is my second favorite song by the Gin Blossoms.

Take My Breathe Away - Berlin
I hated Tom Cruise before it was cool to do so, but yet I have a soft spot for the Top Gun soundtrack. While I was unemployed in 2003 you would have discovered me in my boyfriend's room singing this plus both Kenny Loggins tracks at the top of my lungs while working on padding my resume.

Don't Wanna Go - Crowned King
I made out with their bassist when I lived in Jasper and they were just a cover band. Yep, I guess that was my big brush with fame. I knew someone 'before they were famous'.

Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind
I think this was probably the first modern rock song I knew every single word to. I studied the lyrics and listened to it at least once a day, since it appeared on my favorite MuchMusic Big Shiny Tunes compilation (that'd be #2) that I owned on both tape and CD (for easy listening at home or in the truck). I wore both out.

Thrift Store Chair - Everclear
I've been listening to this song a lot lately. It's kind of the epitome of a break-up song for me. And you knew there had to be an Everclear song on here. :)

Catsup/Ketchup/Catch Up

2009-03-04T12:26:00.000-08:00

I know I have the worst habit of forgetting to update my blog for months and months at a time, but honestly most of the time it stems down to two really simple reasons:

a) Nothing of consequence or note is happening in my life

OR

b) It's drama central and I just can't really talk about it for fear of creating even MORE drama

In this case, it's falling squarely under the umbrella of the "B" definition, but honestly.. I just don't give a shit anymore.

I'm really tired of having to pretend like everything is A-Ok or that none of this complete and utter KaKa is getting to me, but it is. It really is.

I'm not going to go into the mundane, boring details, but suffice it to say that I've done absolutely nothing wrong or out of the ordinary, but the small minded people who are viewing me through this small town fishbowl seem bent on demonizing me or roasting me at the proverbial stake.

I don't know that I've ever been the target of a witch-hunt -- I suppose not if a memory doesn't immediately spring to mind -- but evidently I am right now. And it sucks.

So I did what I had to do. I dumped him, kids. He's all yours now.

Have a shiny happy life together. Leave me the hell alone. Me and my life are of no concern to you any longer.

And just to clarify -- it wasn't me that dragged it on for the past several weeks. You talk to him about that. Perhaps he'll even tell you the truth. Probably not, though.

As for me, I snagged a great apartment with a cool roommate, and the cat and spend each and every glorious night smiling at each other before drifting off to sleep in 'the bed that hugs back'.

I'm stumbling through the admissions process through Thompson Rivers, so that I can get my degree on the go now that I have a stable place to live.

Life is going pretty well.

Granted, Kristy and I have made 'going for coffee' our single biggest hobby and all that caffeine consumption probably isn't the BEST way to be treating 'the temple', but I am enjoying my life right now aside from the pettiness which will hopefully just disappear.

I'm almost completely caught up on Lost, and must make that completely caught up by tonight when it plays at it's usual time.

Things between mom and I are less strained now. She just found out she lost her contract and it's been tough on her, so I think with both of us having a lot on our plates right now, we don't even have a chance to snipe at each other which makes for semi peaceful coexistence.

Aside from all that, it's really the same old. Somedays I kick myself for staying here, and wonder how many pizza places one town needs, but for the most part, I think staying here is going to mean I'm more focused and have less chances of distraction.

Breaking and Entering 101

2009-01-12T11:08:00.000-08:00

I know I've been lax about updating again (Big Surprise!), but I figured I would do a quick rehash of everything I've been up to since -- HOLY CRAP -- before Christmas.

I can't even blame it on my damn head cold because that's a recent (albeit horrible) development. Please note, I am looking for sympathy and chicken noodle soup. In lieu of those I will accept lavish bouquets of flowers or trips to a tropical locale. Your choice.

On to business:

I had a pretty low-key holiday. Dad got a call a few days before Christmas that both the mine that he works at and the other one in the area (owned by same company) were overproducing, so they were giving most employees time off during Christmas.

To the tune of 2 weeks.

While not excited about the prospect of 2 weeks off work unpaid, it definitely beat our original plan of having Christmas as a family on the 23rd. I don't even need to explain how lame that would have been, and I was not excited about spending all day Christmas at home with just mom, since I'm well aware that Garhett would be off spending the day sledding if given the chance. I had the offer to spend Christmas Day with Mr. V and his family, and although I appreciated it, felt like I would be too much of an imposition. That's all moot, however, since it all worked out and we spent the day as a foursome (Trin spent it down South with Robyn's family) and after all the presents were unwrapped, turkey was served, games were played and mass amounts of creamy liqueurs were consumed, Mr. V drove out to get me so we could spend Christmas Day night together.

A few days later, we drove to GP where I met up with Rossy for a few hours at the Prairie Mall. We caught up, got our hair done and just had a fun day together. The kind of day I've grown increasingly more reminiscent about since I left the city and most of my friends behind.

I had made a bargain with mom that I would work for her during her recovery until January (the doctor advised she take 6-10 weeks off) and then I was going to do my own thing (originally was planned to be my degree, but for reasons I can't entirely get into now, is no longer. Soon, though.) , and so on my last day of working for her, the day before New Years, I excitedly backed out of the driveway to head to work, and backed right into her brand new fucking truck. Shit.

Well, suffice it to say that those closest to me know what's been going on for the past few months,and if there was finally a valid reason for her to be angry with me, this was it. So I left, and have been crashing (with the cat) at Mr. V's house until I can find a place within my budget. I'm hoping February brings good fortune in that respect. Thank God for his understanding nature, since I completely feel like I'm intruding on his newly claimed space.

We went back there last week to get a few things when I knew she'd be out at work, and therefore not around to start a bunch of drama, and the next day I received a nasty email from her accusing me of sneaking around like a thief. To get my own things!

Since I know this has less to do with her being upset I came there when they weren't there (which honestly, she has no reason to be, since I didn't do anything other than pack up some things I knew I would need), and more upset at the fact that she was literally powerless to do or say anything about it, I'm choosing to ignore, since the doctor has been noticing some irregular things about my health, and attributes most of them to an increasingly alarming stress level.

In any case, now that almost a week has passed since the email, I find it more humorous and less stressful. After talking to a few people about the situation, I'm finally drawing the conclusion that the behavior isn't normal, and am finally beginning to feel comfortable and happy in my skin again.

I watched a movie called "Americano" a few weeks ago, that I wouldn't recommend except for the fact that it is a backpacking movie based in Spain (indisputably one of my favorite countries on earth). The point is that in one scene, one of the characters is speaking to the Spanish girl the group befriends, and she has a short monologue about Crazymakers, meaning the people who just have the innate ability to drive you absolutely crazy. I found a website that describes it fairly well and can be located here. My mom has always been this for me. She's always known exactly what to say to put me over the edge, to make me doubt myself or my situation in life, and the only way I can foresee getting through my life is to ignore her for the most part. That's as much of a plan as I've formulated thus far. Well, that and fixing the dent in her goddamn truck of course. But I'm happy that I've put into motion the steps needed to distance myself from her and the situation, however hastily they were put together.

So in any case, because I'm not working and not going to school, I spent a vast majority of my day cleaning the house, 'window shopping' online, baking cupcakes, reading books and drinking Chai in bed with the cat. For now, it's good, but I know I'll need more shortly. I'm toying with the idea of volunteering at a few places as long as I have money in the bank, since it's something I've always wanted to do, and never had the time to commit. The SPCA is high on my list, as is the woman's shelter in town. Beyond getting me out of the house and socializing (something I've fallen out of practice with since getting back from my trip), it'll give me a new sense of purpose, which I'm also lacking. Well, besides making supper every night and doing laundry, of course.

Mr. V isn't totally moved in yet either. Yesterday, after weeks of procrastinating, he finally managed to get his friend to bring a generator and saw that he had on loan from his job at PNG to cut the lock off Mr. V's storage unit. The key for the lock went delinquent months ago, and despite my expert attempts at amateur lock-picking and a failed attempt with a blot cutter, we hadn't been able to access any of his things. The saw did the trick and after 30 seconds of it being in action, we had liberated his possessions. We brought back a few carloads of things, but sometime this week, have to make a real attempt at getting people with trucks together to get the rest.

Other than that, I'm boring as usual. I wish I had some source of inspiration to draw on and I could at least write some stories for freelance work, but am afraid no will want to read my stories about the stain fighting goodness of Gain laundry detergent or how to get you (formerly well trained) cat to stay off the counters after not having counters for close to a year.

A quick Rant

2008-12-12T15:27:00.000-08:00

I HATE (Hate, Hate, Hate) working for my mom's company.

Not only do I get to scrub toilets to make my money, but my month leading up to receiving an actual paycheque is an arduous, hellish experience, especially on this month of much commercialism and cash grabbing when I am completely Mastercard bound.

And beyond that.. every Friday night I get to sit around and wait until my 16 year old brother is finished having his fun so I can drag him off to work moaning and whining the entire way so that he, too, can partake in the money making toilet scrubbing.

And on nights like tonight, where he promises to be home at the crack of 6:30 (when I am normally leaving) when I had a perfectly good night last night to go and clean completely solo, it makes me even more mad. Not only because he is chronically late, and not only because I get to feed the dogs (yet again), and not only because of aforementioned whining and moaning, but because contrary to popular belief around this casa-de-parental-control, I DO have better things to be doing on a Friday night.

And honestly, they don't involve toilets.

Seacrest out.

Why I may soon be 300 Lbs

2008-12-12T01:38:00.000-08:00

I have now decided that each time I hear a Christmas carol it is really the death knell of my waistline.

I'm lying in bed just now, flipping through my blogs of interest and having a staring contest with my incessantly purring cat, wishing I was normal and sleeping at 2 am, and it hits me.. "The Little Drummer Boy" and this insatiable craving for another cookie bar. I spent the day baking Christmas cookies.

I should be clear. When I bake cookies, I don't bake run of the mill cookies. Sugar cookies with candy cane insets melted to look like stained glass windows, two toned butter cookies with chocolate almond insides and delectable 500,000 calorie chocolate toffee topped butter cookie bars.

And really, who am I to resist temptation?

So I went downstairs and ate another cookie bar. I figure climbing 20 stairs back up to my room burned up about 1/100th of the calories consumed.

Wow, I need to get back into yoga.

PS. I did not die on my Edmonton trip. I consider this a good omen.

Happy Anniversary!

2008-12-06T00:37:00.000-08:00

4 years ago was a momentous day for me, for it was the first time I sat at my computer and wrote my first 'sounds-like-it-should-be-a-term-for-what-the-dog-yakked-up' entry.

What initially started out as a way to vent/keep Cori and Corey up to date on my life has now turned into a love/hate affair that I can't seem to leave well enough alone. Like a toddler, this blog has given me it's fair share of headaches, but vast amounts of joy, too.

It's been with me through a toxic relationship, a pseudo relationship and a relationship that everyone figured would end in happily ever after. It's been there through happy, sad, and jacked up on caffeine. It's hosted loads of pictures of dumb things my roommates and I did, dumb things I did to my dogs and generally just dumb things.

So as my long term readers will know, at this time of year I like to cop out on writing a Christmas letter, and do a blog entry summing up my year instead. My nana is the only one who rates a personalized letter.. everyone else gets this entry.

January started out pleasant enough. Mr. Roberts and I had a lowkey New Years on the couch watching Arrested Development and drinking pink champagne.

In mid January, by the time my company holiday party (yes, in January) rolled around , things seemed off between us, but we kept working on making a go of it.

In late January, he and I went to a Romane Stop Smoking Seminar which was effective. We both quit, and while my boss was really understanding about my bursting into tears without provocation, it wasn't as easy as Karrlee said it was going to be.

In early February, Mr. Roberts, star of many blog entries, and I called it quits for good. He still remains a damn good man, and will make some woman very happy one day. If his friends like her (sorry W).

A few days later, Charlotte, my roommate tells me she's moving back home with her parents to save for a trip to Australia before she joins the armed forces in the spring. This news, combined with my recent breakup with both Mr. Roberts and an 11 year habit turns me into a wailing banshee who doesn't leave her room for several hours. I'm certain Charlotte called Mental Health.

Around the same time, my mom suggests that I move home to help her with her new cleaning company. The workload is growing to be too much for her, and is only going to grow as time goes on. I suggest only moving home temporarily. I am told that is the stupidest idea ever.

I debate what to do for around a week, but ultimately, end up packing up most of my wordly possessions, giving my house up to my other roommate, putting in my notice at work and moving back into my parent's attic with the cat, who is not happy about the sudden turn of events. I spend a lot of time watching movies, trying not to be depressed.

13 days on, 4 days off is my life from March until late July. Nothing of consequence happened, except I decided that I had nothing better to do with all the money I was making than to blow it on something.

I always wanted to travel, but never really had the means to, so I debate on whether to hike through the Yucatan Peninsula looking at Mayan ruins or to be cliche and backpack around Europe. Cliche wins when mom reads an article on Canadians getting caught in gang crossfire in Mexico. Even cliche sounds sketchy to her (note: I'm dying to see how she reacts when I go to India).

I save around $16K to buy a round trip ticket to London, a one month Eurail pass, a damn good backpack and other travel essentials.

Head off to Edmonton, and then Calgary in late July and catch my flight to the land of bobbies, bangers and mash, where I fell in love.

With London. Seriously, awesome city. Go.

One night in Paris and a few days in Portugal (sadly, I suggested to a friend that she go and she was largely unimpressed, but still, it is a beautiful country and I do suggest it -- just not in November) where I started to finally come into my own as a traveler.

By Madrid, Spain, I was into a groove, and Spain was a blast. A big part of me still wants to move to Seville and finish my degree there, but another thinks something quite different is going to happen.

I skipped over the French Riviera, not on purpose, but only because I chose one of the busiest weekends of the year to try to travel there. Knowing now from the misfortunes of several of my traveling buddies what a hassle it was, I'm happier that I missed it. One day, when I don't have to depend on my overdraft to get me by a few days before payday, I'll go back, and it'll be great.

Into Italy where I got dreadfully lost in Turin, avoided stepping on a sea urchin at Vernazza in the Cinque Terre, saw the famous Leaning Tower of Pisa, fell in lust with 2 beautiful Albanians in Florence, partied in Rome, almost got accosted in Naples and then headed over to Bari to catch a ferry over to Greece.

I drank the entire ferry ride, assuming that my childhood bouts with seasickness may still be prevalent. My logic was that if I was going to be sick, at least I wanted a good story to tell.

If drinking until the sun rises with a group of rowdy Aussies is a good story, then mission accomplished.

One rotten and hungover day in Athens and then off to the Cycladic islands of Santorini, Ios, Naxos and Paros.

Setting off from Paros back to Piraeus (the port outside of Athens), I was convinced we were going to die when the gale force winds forced our boat to capsize. In actuality, our boat didn't even come close to capsizing, since they have good captains in Greece.

Since mass amounts of wine were consumed on that journey back to the mainland, it goes without saying that I not only had the bad judgment to almost sleep outside a Starbucks upon arrival, but that I also had a vicious hangover again in Athens.

I can't shake the feeling that maybe my bad feelings toward that city base more around the fact that I was hungover both times I was there, or that it just wasn't what I expected. If you're wondering what I was expecting, think Gods and Goddesses hanging out on the rocks having cocktails while nymphs played around their feet.

A quick flight back to London from there where the lovely Ania put up with me for a few days, hanging around her flat, monopolizing her laptop and eating all her Jaffa Cakes.

Headed to Gatwick on September 11th for my flight back to Canada, and was surprised by the vast amounts of armed guards everywhere. Had the bad fortune to have not one, but 2 dead camera batteries in my case and was unable to take a photo for posterity. Honestly. They were everywhere.

One long, but uneventful flight back home. Greenland looks beautiful from above. Met a lovely couple whose daughter is living in Hong Kong after spending 4 years teaching in Egypt. Decide I want my mom to have the opportunity to chat up random strangers about her jet-setting daughter on long journeys places. Make a mental note to add Hong Kong to my already extensive list of places I want to travel.

Arrive back in Canada. Begin buying every recent Lonely Planet guide I can find in used book stores.

Research options for earning my degree in Spain.

Go to The Beach Boys concert with Mama and Papa. Enjoy myself immensely. Spot someone cute.

Begin dating someone cute. Fall in love with someone cute.

I think Spain is on a hiatus. Maybe for good. Unless someone cute wants to come with.

Hopes everyone out there doesn't mind that the last 8 paragraphs are mildly abbreviated since someone cute is taking up a lot of my time (not that I'd complain).

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Saturday's Suckage

2008-11-30T19:58:00.000-08:00

What a weekend. I truly wish I'd taken Allison up on her suggestion of a GP martini dance party on Saturday instead of what I did instead.

If bad luck comes in threes, I think I've maxed out my bad luck quotient plus more. I'm ready for the good karma to roll in. Or if you're the bastard sticking pins in the voodoo effigy of me, I kindly ask that you stop.

My weekend started out well enough. Late Friday after work, Mr. V picked me up and we spent the night chilling out with some pizza and a copy of Hancock.

Woke up early on Saturday morning, ran some errands around town and almost got caught in a difficult and potentially embarrassing predicament outside of Wally World. Crisis averted we went out for lunch and discovered that we are indeed becoming White Spot regulars, since our server commented on how we 'always seem to have fun together'. I'm still not sure how I feel about this.

Drove out to Mr. V's graveyard of forgotten automobiles and then stopped at his parents for a few things. Then he talked me into coming out to the thriving Metropolis of Bonanza to look at a Studebaker that he talked to a guy about years ago. After looking at the car and grabbing some drinks at the Bonanza store we headed back to Dawson. About 5 minutes outside of town, we rounded a corner, came down a hill (pickup truck with stock trailer in full pursuit, hot on our trail) and spot a deer trying to cross the road ahead of us.

Now, I'm not entirely certain why deer are so braindead, but what I do know is that they are, and this was no exception. After leisurely crossing the opposite lane it bounded right into the front driver's side of his Cavalier, putting a nice sized bulls-eye in the windshield, some dents in the fender and doors and exploding the driver's side window all over Mr. V and I.

Scary shit.

Years ago, my family was driving to Salmon Arm for my grandpa's funeral and we smucked a wolf outside of Kamloops, but since everyone but dad was asleep when it happened, our memories were pretty foggy. Since, every member of my household has been inside a vehicle that has hit a good sized animal -- except me.

My record is now tarnished, and I'm not that pleased about it.

We stopped to check out the damage and the yahoos in the pickup stopped to make sure we were ok. Thankfully in spite of the highway speed and the close proximity of their front to our back bumper, they had managed to swerve into the ditch avoiding us and the deer.

So off to town we went to show off the car to his parents, pick up some plastic for the window and to vacuum the glass shards out of the car and our hair.

Damage minimized as much as possible, we went out for chinese at the Orion, and after dinner on the way back to his place, I was just starting to feel more optimistic about the night when we saw the unmistakable flash of red and blue lights behind the car. Assuming we were being pulled over for having a smashed windshield, but still realizing my seatbelt was off, I quickly did it up and we sat back and waited for the cop to finish his donut and approach the car.

He did. Straight to my window. Where he proceeded to write me a $167 ticket for failure to properly wear a seatbelt.

Now, you know you have to be nearing the end of the month when you get a bloody seatbelt ticket.

In any case, I'm hoping it was a savvy move on my part when I gave him my Alberta ID instead of my Alberta Driver's license, since the ticket states that number and not my DL's. It might mean I never have to pay that $167. It might mean I'll have a warrant out for my arrest in a few months. I'm willing to take that chance, and Mr. V is going to pay my bail if it turns out badly.

Aside from an incident with a nail and a foot, a sharp plastic piece and a knuckle and a computer that did not want to do it's tasks properly, the rest of our night was reasonably decent.

We bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate the most supremely sucky day of our relationship thus far, and passed out before we'd even polished off a third of it. I guess it was time for Saturday to come to an end.

As for today -- nothing of consequence. We did dog chores and had lunch at my place, looked at a few more Studebakers and I went shopping with mom in the afternoon.

We're off to Edmonton on Thursday for a few days to pick up the remainder of my possessions from Dear Matt's garage and to drop Xaskaa aka. Pain-in-the-Ass-ka off at home. I'm crossing my fingers that it will be a fun filled and mildly uneventful trip. Please do the same.

After 2.5 weeks..

2008-11-14T14:28:00.000-08:00

First things first:

To my sister, it's not an allergy just a bit of an intolerance. :) I don't feel any older or any wiser, but sometimes I catch myself referring to my situation as 'someone in her early twenties' and realize that's technically no longer accurate. I am not officially in my mid twenties. Tres depressing.

I've been going E-Bay crazy the past few weeks. It started out as a well meaning way to get some early Christmas presents (although technically Christmas was only a little over 2 months away, so it can't really be considered early gifts, can it?) but it turned into a full flung obsession after a few days. Pressing the 'Bid Now' button became automatic, and the next thing I know I was bidding on 36 items, watching 15 while paying for a few 'Buy It Now's.

Long story short I have a grand total of 2 actual Christmas gifts, a really cool vintage handbag and a Nokia N800 on the way.

I fell in love with that last device while I was in Paris at a hostel. One of my American roommates had one, and since the 2 working computers they had in the lobby were almost always occupied, he allowed us all to check our Facebook before we went to bed. Since WiFi hotspots are so commonplace now that I even see signs advertising them in good ol' Dawson Creek, I decided it was time to bite the bullet and give in to my increasing dependency on the interweb.

I thought long and hard about getting an iPhone, but if I plan on staying in Dawson for awhile, it seems a little silly to buy a phone that runs on a network that doesn't reach anywhere near my folks' place and I certainly have no need for an iPod Touch with my kickass 30 GB Zen Vision:M still rocking my world, so I thought having a portable internet tablet would be the way to go.

Sadly, I did not get the job I was in line for. I would go into detail, but after checking my blog traffic, I realize that I should keep things a little more PC especially when referring to goings-on at EnCana Steeprock. Oh well, life goes on.

Mr. V is still great. He mentioned on a whim the other day that we should look into getting working holiday Visa's to take a trip to Australia next winter, and that was all it took.. I was posing for cheesy pictures in front of Uluru and the Sydney Opera House, taking helicopter rides over the 12 Apostles, diving in the Great Barrier Reef and getting drunk in a sweet Melbourne nightclub. Now to make all my dreams a reality...

His house is almost completed. His dad is doing his flooring tomorrow morning, while he finishes drywalling the bathroom and getting the flooring for the kitchen, bath and porch. I'm extremely excited to have a place to hang out where parents don't pay the mortgage.

Mom went in for a partial hysterectomy last week and is home and in pain now. I am playing nursemaid and Go-For for the next 2 weeks at least.

Other than that, things are well. The snow has landed and not left, which although sad means that dogsledding is in the cards in the next few weeks. The dogs and I both need the exercise and I need more photo ops in my life.

T minus 2 days until.. ugh. 25

2008-10-27T11:41:00.000-07:00

I hate starting out blog entries like this, but unfortunately life doesn't always give you pleasant things to talk about.

I just found out today that, Kelly Birch, an old coworker of mine from the Rafter Six Ranch died in a boating accident last week.

Way back in 2002 when I started at the ranch, Kelly and his commonlaw wife Donna, took me under their wing as they were newly arrived and so was I. They invited me over to their house for dinner and drinks, and got me away from the ranch when the drama that comes with living with most of your coworkers got to be too much. In the fall, when several coworkers and I decided to move out and into a place together, we selected a house just down from Kelly and Donna's and we all migrated in and out of each other's houses as if they weren't seperate residences.

Kelly loved to bug people, and I was a favorite target, not only because I was an almost constant fixture at the ranch, but because I refused to pay any attention when he instructed me not to date Donna's son, Jay. Of course, I did anyway, and it ended on sort of a down note, to which Kelly liked pointing out that he had told me all along not to go that route.

In the fall, when I left, I fell out of touch with them.

RIP Kelly.

On a brighter note, as I mentioned back on the 12th, I have someone new in my life. I haven't figured out a clever moniker for him yet, so we'll just settle with Mr. V for now.

Things are still going well. He bought a house the day before our first date, so this entire month has been a flurry of house related activity. Saturday, we took the afternoon almost completely off, and went out for dinner and a drive. We passed the Inland dealership, and he saw a new Dodge Challenger sitting there that he had to go check out quickly. Somehow I think one of their employees is going to get severely reprimanded today, since the car was completely unlocked, so he got to sit in it. Had we been less honest (and in possession of a car trailer), I might not be able to write this as I'd be on the lam with a really cool stolen set of wheels. Thank God for honesty.

Yesterday, his mom and his sister came over to prep and paint his walls, while we did yard work. We've decided that whoever owned his house prior to him must not have done proper yard work in at least the last decade. We managed to acrue an enormous pile of garbage from the house, garage and yard, and an even larger pile of wood that his neighbour has kindly offered to haul off and use in a massive bonfire. We were dirty, tired and cold but extremely pleased with ourselves, and hope that white shite stays away until next weekend so we continue on getting the yard up to par.

In any case, the house is a vast improvement to the handyman's special I first saw a few weeks ago, and the yard looks much better than the landing pad of broken gyprock, dead trees and broken down fences that it was, and with any luck, he should be able to take up residence in the next few weeks.

As for me, no word on the interview yet, which means I'm still not sleeping well. My entire life (and my family's lives) are all in limbo until we figure out what to do. If I don't get this job, then I can apply for school, dad needs to go find a local job (we can't afford to have him work in Tumbler any longer) and I can work for mom while she's out of commission the next 6 weeks following her surgery. If I do, then dad can take over for mom. I don't mind either of the options, since I'm feeling fairly optimistic about everything in my life right now, but I hate not knowing.

And yeah, I'll be 25 in 2 days. Bring on the walkers.

That White Shite

2008-10-22T07:48:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 6 this morning, which prompted the cat to assume cuddling was on the agenda. By the time I had rolled her off of me, I was wide awake, so I rolled over and stared outside my window to see the bane of my existence covering the edges of my yard like crappy white lace.

Folks, it appears winter is here. The dreaded S word is all over my lawn despite my best efforts not to utter the word itself.

On a side note, I had my interview yesterday. It went well, and now I play the anxious waiting game -- quite likely why I only slept for 4 hours last night.

I'll be a quarter of a century old in a week, too. It's possible that's the cause of my insomnia, as well.

Life in a War Zone

2008-10-16T12:40:00.000-07:00

The biggest local headline on October 14th:

RCMP say bomb placed along EnCana pipeline
JOSH WINGROVE
Globe and Mail Update

A hunter discovered a two-metre-wide crater underneath a British Columbia pipeline Sunday that RCMP believe was caused by a bomb.

The blast was discovered early Sunday morning under an EnCana sour gas pipeline in Northeastern B.C., east of Dawson Creek near the Alberta border, RCMP said yesterday. The blast damaged the pipeline, ripping insulation from the 30-centimetre pipe, but didn't rupture it. No gas leaked into the remote area.

The bomb was planted right in an area where the pipeline emerges from the ground at a 45-degree angle, RCMP Sergeant Tim Shields said. RCMP believe the suspected device was deliberately planted, meant to damage the pipeline.

The blast appears to have come just after a threatening note was delivered to a small town newspaper in Chetwynd, B.C., west of Dawson Creek. The letter, delivered Saturday, urged local energy companies to pack up and leave the area. Though the affected area was sparsely populated and the damage limited, RCMP are taking the explosion seriously.

"This is a very remote area. There are no people around. Having said that, it is still serious because of the type of gas in the pipe," Sgt. Shields said.

Police don't know who might have planted the device, but there is a "significant sentiment" opposing gas and oil developments among the long-tenured members of the rural community, Sgt. Shields said. Dawson Creek Mayor Calvin Kruk said he wasn't aware of any opposition in his community.

The hunter said he'd passed through the same area a day earlier, and there'd been no crater then, leading police to believe the blast happened late Saturday evening or early Sunday morning.

Several RCMP units are investigating, including the Integrated National Security Enforcement Team. They're appealing for any witnesses to come forward, and urging workers in the region's booming oil and gas sector to keep an eye out for potential saboteurs. RCMP investigators will continue to work to figure out what type of device was planted.

"All we have is the crater and we don't know what type of explosion caused it," Sgt. Shields said.

And then today...

RCMP probes second B.C. pipeline blast
THE CANADIAN PRESS

DAWSON CREEK, B.C. – RCMP are investigating a second explosion targeting a gas pipeline near Dawson Creek, on the B.C.-Alberta border.

The natural gas pipeline is owned by Encana (TSX: ECA).

"The explosion appears to be a deliberate act that left a crater in the ground under the pipeline which was damaged but did not rupture," Sgt. Tim Shields says in a statement.

"It appears the explosion was likely detonated some time overnight."

The blast site was discovered by pipeline workers at about 9 a.m. Thursday morning along the pipeline off Highway 2, about half a kilometre from the Alberta border.

RCMP say the incident seems to be related to one earlier this week when a sour gas pipeline owned by Encana was hit.

Another bomb exploded overnight last Saturday beside a sour gas line owned by EnCana, about 50 kilometres east of Dawson Creek, B.C.

The explosion left a small crater under the line but EnCana said the line didn't rupture and no gas was released.

No one has taken responsibility for the bombing, although the RCMP believe it may be related to a letter sent to local media outlets, which demanded oil and gas projects be shut down by Saturday.

"We will no longer negotiate with terrorists which you are as you keep endangering our families with crazy expansion of deadly gas wells in our home lands," said the anonymous letter, parts of which were published by the Dawson Creek Daily News.

Many critics of sour gas development fear the gas – which contains hydrogen sulphide and can be fatal if inhaled – poses a danger to people nearby.

Police are asking oil and gas workers in the area to remain extra vigilant and make note of anyone who seems suspicious.

I guess it's an understatement when I say that most people out in my area are feeling pretty unnerved about all the recent anti-oil and gas activity. Especially people who make their living off the plant they seem to be targetting. Being that my mom is their contract janitor and I'm currently in the running for Steeprock's administrative assistant position, we're both a little pissed off.

I love the fact that the anonymous letter writer refers to the oil and gas companies as 'terrorists' but has no qualms about setting explosives off aimed to rupture a sour gas pipeline that could either blow out a 20 sq km area (complete with all occupants -- man, bird or deer) or could cause deadly H2S releases into the atmosphere and all over the outlying community. What a brilliant way to object to something -- put all your neighbours' lives in jeopardy.

Then this morning when farmer Tom called and let us know about the second explosion (less than 10 km from our front doorstep) and subsequent evacuation alert it got even more personal.

If you are the illiterate moron who is so selfish enough to take the lives of all your neighbours, friends and community members (that is, if you're even a TOMSLAKE -- that's right, one word -- resident) into your hands and play God with them, then I pray that a local father of young children finds you before the authorities do.

I refuse to live in fear of you, but I also refuse to accept this without comment.

This is not the way to get what you want.

Back on the Horse

2008-10-12T17:34:00.000-07:00

I met someone. I know it seems odd to have met someone when my tentative plan involves leaving Dawson for destinations unknown (again), but things usually happen this way.

In any case, it's going well, and I just wanted to briefly update since I haven't since the devastation of discovering Ryan and Scarlett tied the knot.

No word on the job yet, but keep those fingers crossed anyway. It appears I'll be staying here for awhile. It's generally handy to be able to afford things.

Saddest Day of my Life..

2008-10-01T23:59:00.000-07:00

.. was September 29th. While I was off being a drunken moron at Randy's going away party my future ex husband went off and got hitched.

Seriously, saddest day of my life. Well, maybe. Or I could just be being overly dramatic again.

Still, though. Bastard.

PS. Happy Birthday, Daddy!

I may never drink again

2008-09-28T19:45:00.000-07:00

And not because I have an awful hangover or anything cliche like that.

Let's put it this way.. what do bocce, comparing breast sizes with a man and not remembering what it was you said to the guy you liked to make him attempt to drive drunk have in common?

If you guessed that these are all things I did last night while I was drunk, you win a painfully sober night out with me. I'm not taking my chances on that happening again.

No, in all seriousness it was a great keg party -- I'm sure. My recollections of the night fade in and out a lot, although from what I remember, it was fab.

I do have 2 reasons to be proud of myself for maintaining some semblance of self control -- my clothes stayed on the entire night (even my pants!) and I didn't once dance on a table -- I'm pretty sure.

Opportunities

2008-09-25T21:38:00.001-07:00

Mom just called and mentioned that the admin assistant at the plant we work at has just put her notice in.

As much as I'm really apprehensive about staying put in the area, I still think I'm going to apply for the position since it's a great company and a good opportunity.

Wish me luck.

Random Thoughts on Wanderlust

2008-09-24T19:57:00.000-07:00

I'm having a tough time being back in Canada currently.

Not in the sense that Canada is a terrible place to be (although the weather sucks currently), but just because the part of my brain that switched on when I landed in London hasn't switched off yet.

For example, I'm still on high alert for the maple leaf. I'm at the Beach Boys concert last night at the EnCana Events Centre in Dawson, and I see this guy sitting in front of me with a Canadian flag on the back of his hat. I stood up, paused for a second and sat back down. Mom gives me an odd look and I explain, "I was just about to ask him where he was from". She laughs, but it's the truth. Every time I see a Maple Leaf, a Canadian flag, an Oilers jersey, I have to pause and then remember that I'm back in Canada now, and seeing those things is completely normal and does not give me a reason to approach the wearer and introduce myself. Just imagine how popular I would be if I did?

Ditto for hearing English, recognizing someone I know or hearing a reference to something intrinsically North American (bonus points if it's actually a Canadian reference). I think I'm actually having a harder time making the adjustment here than I did away just because I prepared so much for leaving. I definitely wasn't ready to come home.

There's this huge part of me that stares at my cat with such love, and is pissed off at the part of me that feels a little contempt for her for being the lone thing holding me back from strapping on my pack and doing a Round the World trip, ASAP.

Just to further torture myself, I ordered the movie "A Map for Saturday" today. You can view the trailer here, but from what I've heard, if you have as bad a case of wanderlust as I do (or you think I'm insane, and would like to laugh at other crazy people), you should probably order your own copy.

I like how they introduce the documentary:

On a trip around the world, every day feels like a Saturday.

Because traveling is like that. It could be Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday or Arbor Day and you wouldn't have a clue because unless you have a plane/train/boat to catch on a specific day, it just doesn't matter.

Traveling, if done well, is about being there, in that moment. I can't bring the Roman forum back to Canada with me, but if I try really hard, I can remember being there and experiencing it.

Travel is the single-most freeing thing I've ever experienced in my life.

Maybe I'm an escapist, maybe I'm afraid of responsibility, but ultimately, it's my life, and I want it to be a good one.

NEW 20 Things to do before I Die

2008-09-22T22:41:00.000-07:00

I blogged this list way back in August of 2007, and I'm happy to have a few more things to cross off my list now.

Visit Australia.
Ride a (REAL) rollercoaster. (not the little kiddy ones at the Dawson Creek Fall Fair)
Learn to play the piano.
~~Fly in a Helicopter.~~
~~Ride in a limousine on a happy occasion.~~
~~Go skinny dipping.~~
Go skydiving.
~~Meet Art Alexakis.~~
Drive a Lamborghini Diablo.
~~Fly in a plane.~~
~~Visit Spain.~~
Visit Japan.
Visit the Pyramids and the Mayan Ruins.
Learn how to surf (properly).
Own a Clydesdale Horse.
Go to Hawaii.
Get married.
~~Play in a fountain.~~
Learn to Levitate (I was like 16!).
Show a dog at Westminster and Crufts the same year.

Since that's 7 things crossed off the list, I decided to ammend it a little to fill the gaps:

Set foot on every continent on Earth.
Visit Australia.
Ride a real rollercoaster.
Go to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
Learn to play the piano.
Go skydiving.
Drive a Lamborghini Diablo.
Visit Japan.
Visit Easter Island.
Learn how to surf.
Run a Marathon.
Own a Clydesdale Horse.
Go Scuba Diving.
See every Wonder of the World still in existence.
Go to Hawaii.
Become fluent in another language.
Meet the Dalai Lama.
Get married.
Show a dog at Westminster and Crufts the same year.
Write a novel.

You'll notice I took 'Learn to Levitate' out of my list... my faith in my own abilities has limits.

Hostel Reviews

2008-09-19T21:10:00.000-07:00

I promised a few people that if I got the chance when I got back, I would post reviews of some of the things I saw and places I stayed. Tonight is (obviously) a slow night for me, and taking a break from overhauling mom's website means I have nothing but time.

I figured I would start with hostel reviews, and hopefully I can help some future traveller out with their accomodation decisions.

London: Ashlee House 261-265 Grays Inn Road (King's Cross)
The french girl running the front desk ignored me a lot, but all in all it wasn't a terrible hostel. No A/C which isn't normally an issue in London, except that I was there during the (famous, completely unexpected) heatwave this year, and I just about melted. Try to request a room facing the back of the building -- you lack the view (whatever view you get on a side street in King's Cross) but you miss the traffic noise and the sun shining in during the day.
The bathrooms were decent, although sort of a strange setup since the ladies' is on one floor, and the men's on another. If you're lucky, you'll be staying on the right floor for your loo.
Doors are all coded (and codes are changed frequently) which is great for security. A small social room with a TV, and computers (£1.50 per hour, I believe) provide some opportunities to meet your fellow travellers.
Free breakfast of a few different cereals, bread, tea, coffee and juice. The guy who owns the place is boisterous and good for a laugh, which makes breakfast with strangers a lot less awkward.
The exchange rate is going to suck for any North American or Aussie traveller, but otherwise, it's pretty decent for the price (around £17 per night when I booked).
3 out of 5

Paris: Square Caulaincourt 2 Square Caulaincourt 75018
When I met fellow Canuck, Nathan, in Rome and he told me he was unimpressed with his stay at the Square, I was quite frankly a little surprised. Granted, part of my great experience at this hostel had to do with awesome roommates and a hot french front desk guy, but still.. this is a seriously cute hostel.
The directions for it given on Hostelworld suck (you come off the metro, go up the stairs and.. Keep Walking - 2 Blocks), it's not really central to anything (except the Sacré Cœur , but I'll get to that), but that's part of the joy. It's situated on this quiet little street, and is totally away from all the Parisian hustle and bustle.
The rooms were very sweet and the place had a ton of character (no lift though, just a winding staircase up and down), although the bathroom setup is kind of strange (you walk through the loo to get into the room).
The breakfast was awesome (croissants, brioche, 4 different cereals, hot chocolate, tea, coffee, orange juice, etc), the staff were very accomodating, there are 3 computers with 1/2 an hour free access per day and the only pitfall was the 1am curfew, which didn't affect me in the least since I was in bed already. It is worth a mention however, that the Montmartre and neighbouring Pigalle districts do become red light districts after dark -- Pigalle being mainly straight prostitutes while trannies work the church scene near the Sacré Cœur, so the curfew isn't arbitrary.
It's located about 5 minutes from the Sacré Cœur which is a Cathedral on the butte Montmartre or the highest point on land in Paris (distinguishing itself from the Eiffel Tower's highest point status). I've also read (since staying at the Square) that the famous Moulin Rouge cabaret is located in nearby Pigalle and would be worth a look.
4 out of 5

Lisbon: Lisbon Easy Hostel Rua de São Nicolau, 13, 2E
One of the best hostels I stayed in my entire trip. The staff, the owner and his wife were all wonderful. They offer a free pub crawl (starting with complimentary homemade sangria) if there's enough call for it, which was a great time. Big living room area with movies, satellite and games made it really easy to meet people. Free laundry service (the only drawback is that you have to find your clothing in the pile, since it's communal laundry), free breakfast (typical hostel breakfast of bread, juice, coffee and tea) and free internet. The rooms were nice, airy and had free lockers, and the bathrooms were some of the nicest I saw, although are co-ed.
5 out of 5

Lisbon (third and fourth nights, the Easy was booked solid): Golden Residence Rua de Santa Marta, n.º 45, 4.º Dto
Cute hostel, and the girl working the front desk was just about the nicest person on the planet. The rooms aren't very secure though (small lockers available for valuables), and it's sort of a strange setup. If you ask at the ground floor, they adamantly tell you it's an illegal setup (I didn't ask for specifics), and you don't get a front door key (you knock, or ring the bell when you want in). Free internet (although only one computer), satellite television, and the kitchen is spacious with 2 large fridges and all the kitchenware you could possibly need. Really clean, too!
I think there was a breakfast offered, but I didn't wake up in time either morning.
It is kind of hard to find though. The directions on Hostelworld sort of allude to it being close to the metro stop, but it's actually several blocks down, and the building is not marked at all. I walked past it 5 or 6 times and finally just broke down and found an internet cafe to double check the address before I went inside.
3.5 out of 5

Madrid: Albergue Juvenil Madrid C/ Mejía Lequerica, 21
It's a large youth hostel (under 25), so it's efficient but kind of sterile and impersonal. No kitchen area.. you can use the microwave, but there's nothing else to offer in there. Free internet, but Facebook seemed to blocked on most of them, and the ones that did offer it were almost never free. The laundry facilities were awful -- 2 washers and 2 dryers (in poor repair) and you have to wait forever for the key, and then discover that someone else is still using all the machines. I was up until almost 2 am doing laundry and missed out on sightseeing since I was waiting for the laundry room to free up. There is a common room with DVDs and a pool table, but it's small and there always seemed to be groups of people who already knew each other in there. Also a few stationary bikes if you're into fitness. Ensuite bathrooms in all the rooms were a definite plus, with seperate shower and toilet stalls, so people could use the loo while someone else was showering while someone else was putting on their makeup. They require deposits for EVERYTHING there -- room keys, kitchen keys, common area keys, even locker keys.
2 out of 5

Seville: Friends Backpackers C/ Sanchez Bedoya 13
The front desk girl came across as a bit surly, but I think that's just because english isn't her first (or even second, possibly third) language, so there is a lot of miscommunication.
A really cute hostel with pretty tapestries, curtains and wall hangings -- very Bohemian. It's on the smaller end of the scale, but it's very clean and the rooms are nice and cool. There are lockers for both your luggage, as well as small lockers for passports, cash and jewelry which I thought was a great idea. Very nice bathrooms.
The breakfast was a little sparce with some bread, milk, juice and sometimes ham on offer, but get there quick because about 1/2 an hour before breakfast ends, if the food is gone (and it probably will be) you're shit out of luck because they won't restock any of it.
The biggest drawback was that although there was a computer on every floor, only one was actually working and online, so the wait time for that got to be a bit much. It wasn't unusual to come home from the clubs at 3 am and still have people waiting to check their emails or book their next hostel.
Cool roof terrace, and I met some great people at this hostel.
3 out of 5

Granada: Rambutan Guesthouse Verea Enmedio Baja 28
Y'know I hate to write a bad review about this place because it has a ton of potential -- I just had a crappy experience. It's very personal and very close knit, but if you don't jive with the rest of the guests well your stay will be hell because there's nowhere to escape to. The room I was staying in was enroute to another room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the laundry, so I always had people going through there. Plus the common area was right outside my door so in order to leave you have to step over and around everyone sitting outside mingling. Awesome view of the Alhambra though.. you couldn't ask for better. Beer and wine on offer for a nominal price, cheap breakfast and dinner, free internet (only one PC though). All I saw were 2 bathrooms, and although I had no problem, that's not to say that there wouldn't be long lineups in the morning or after a day of sightseeing.
I really don't feel comfortable giving this hostel a rating though. Give it a try if you'd like.

Granada: Oasis Backpacker's Hostel Placeta Correo Viejo, 3
Oasis is a chain of 3 hostels (Lisbon, Seville and Granada) and they do hostels well! There is a large kitchen, several common areas (roof terrace, ground floor terrace with ping pong table, dining room area, sitting room and bar) and the rooms were great! They all had little mini fridges, counter areas, windows with window seats and ensuite bathrooms. There are 3 computers for guest use, a great little bar where you claim your free welcome drink and all the information on Granada you could ask for.
It's a little difficult to find though, since it's literally up a tiny Arabic tea street (essentially a small uphill alley with vendors and tea shops on either side). There's signage but be alert! I walked past the signs a few times without even being aware and probably missed my chance to stay there instead of the Rambutan my first night in Granada.
It's nice and central to the Plaza Nueva, shopping areas and about 15 minutes on foot to the Alhambra.
Just a quick note that evidently the Oasis in Sevilla even has a pool! Wish I'd known about that, although I would have missed meeting some great people at Friends.
4 out of 5

Almeria: Instalacion Juvenil Almeria C/ Isla De Fuerteventura S/N
I bought a Hostelling International membership before my trip because I knew that I would gain the purchase price of it back just booking my Greyhound trip to Calgary (the big Grey dog offers hostelling discounts), and this was the first time I really used it for it's purpose. Needless to say, you either need to have an HI membership, or they charge you a fee (If I remember correctly, it was in the area of €4).
I do NOT recommend this hostel. I'm sure there are others in Almeria, but unfortunately Johann (my South African compadre) and I did this trip completely spur of the moment, and I just managed to grab the address and phone number of this hostel on my way out the door in Granada.
There were little bugs (I think they were ants) in our bathroom, the AC was on the fritz (which made the room unbearably hot), weird people (some guy walked around moaning in the lobby almost everytime we were there), and the grouchy front desk guy actually told us they were booked initially until we managed to break out the small bit of Spanish we had between the 2 of us. No pity for the poor, tired, sweaty travellers.
It's not a social hostel(there was a small social area with one tiny TV and some uncomfortable looking couches) and was very sterile and lacking character.
The only saving grace was the big complimentary continental breakfast. It went above and beyond typical hostel fare, although not by enough to rescue it completely.
If you're going to Almeria and can't find another hostel besides this one, I'd suggest splurging on a hotel room instead.
1 out of 5

Barcelona: Alberg Pere Tarres Numancia 149-151
Another HI hostel, although strangely not really, since they don't seem to offer a discount with the card. That being said, though, I sort of get the impression that all HI hostels are on the large and impersonal side, since this was very much that.
It's clean (although admittedly the shower took on a funny smell after use) and offers a lovely open air terrace and free internet, but it wasn't quite enough to sell me on it.
Ensuite bathrooms, personal lockers and good central air, although the rooms are sort of dark and gloomy. No knives in the kitchen unless you brought your own (luckily the lovely Maeve was more prepared than I) and just 2 burners makes it difficult to prepare a meal. There is a restaurant inside the hostel, but I didn't take the opportunity to try it, so I can't comment.
Free breakfast is offered, with 2 types of cereal, bread, lots of drink options, some sandwich meat and your choice of either a croissant or a brioche (not both!).
I can't say I was terribly impressed, but I wasn't UNimpressed either. It's decent and only about a 15 minute walk from Sants station, so is a good option if you have a train to catch out of BCN from there, with connections to all the metro lines.
3 out of 5

Biassa, Italy (Cinque Terre): Ostello Tramonti Via Fabio Filzi 110
First and foremost, the biggest pain in the ass about this hostel is the fact that it's way up in the mountains in Biassa overlooking the La Spezia townsite. You HAVE to take a bus going up to Biassa (or taxi if you're feeling affluent) because the walk might kill you. This is not a pleasant little trek, it's seriously all the way uphill with switchbacks and crazy Italians in Peugots and on Vespas whipping by at death defying speeds. You can buy tickets at the tobacco shop in the train station. Do it.. Don't be a hero.
Secondly, don't stay in Biassa. I was told not to stay at the hostel in Cinque Terre listed on Hostelworld (that would be the Ostello Cinque Terre in Manarola, which I can't vouch for at all) for various reasons, and this hostel was given as another choice by someone who stayed there.
The hostel itself isn't bad. It's quiet, clean, the bathrooms only had lines first thing in the morning and the owner, although surly to me at first, can be quite warm and helpful.
Remember the old adage, "Location, Location, Location"? It's never been more true than with Ostello Tramonti. Biassa is a cute picturesque Italian village. Biassa also has the world's most annoying clock tower which chimes to indicate the time (thus 7 chimes for 7 and so on) and then proceeds to chime every 15 minutes to indicate quarter and half hours. This is fine in the evening, it's actually almost sort of romantic, but at 6, 7, 8 in the morning... given a gun, I would have killed that clock.
Biassa is also a sleepy little town. All day Sunday you will find exactly 2 businesses open -- rival pizzerias. If I was still a smoker, I would have cried since my nearest source of tobacco on a Sunday is a €1.20 bus ticket away in La Spezia.
The buses from the villages of Cinque Terre only run to Biassa until 10:30pm, and the bus from La Spezia to Biassa stops at 8:30pm, so you're stranded in those places after those times. Make sure you get back before 1, because that's the curfew and you'll be locked out if you arrive after that.
You'll also find that the lockout period, which runs from 11 to 3, means you will be stuck in Biassa for an hour until the next bus comes if you leave right as it begins.
My recommendation would be to find accomodation in one of the 5 villages via an online search, or to get into La Spezia at a decent time of day, and to take the train to one of the 5 villages and look for accomodation there if you're not arriving right in the middle of high season.
2 out of 5

Florence: Florence Youth Hostel Via XXVII Aprile 4
Magdalena, the Polish front desk girl, was awesome here. She's so friendly and so helpful that I would recommend this hostel based on her alone. When you claim your free drink upon arrival, sit and chat with her for a few to get some ideas about what to see and do in Florence.
The hostel itself is located about a 15 minute walk from the SMN station in Florence, and close to a wide array of restaurants, cybercafes, shops and espresso places. It's located in an apartment building, but all the residents seemed quite nice and didn't mind all the crazy young people running in and out at all hours of the night.
The rooms are simple (and no central air unfortunately), but sufficient and the view is quite nice from the window.
The bathrooms are a little small and there's no breakfast on offer (free tea or coffee though). No computer terminal either, although there is WiFi throughout. No real common area, which kind of sucks, but Magdalena was again very helpful to solo travellers looking to make connections.
There is a lockout period from 10:30 to 2.
3 out 5

Rome: Freestyle Hostel Via Principe Amadeo 132
Freestyle... In my Pants. Sorry, temporary lapse.
When I read the reviews for this hostel on Hostelworld, I got the impression it wasn't a party hostel at all. I was fine with that, because often you don't feel like joining the hedonism crowd EVERY night anyway, so I booked it. Oh dear.
To be fair, I totally initiated the craziness the first night. After 3 nights of almost no sleep in Florence, I suggested to my new roommates at Freestyle that we join the Spanish Steps Pub Crawl. After drinking contests with Irishmen, playing in fountains and losing my pants and following the air traffic controller from Fort Nelson around Rome in my t-shirt and panties, I needed some rest the following night.
No dice. One night we came home to 30 people playing drinking games in our room, and every night beyond that ended in people taking cheap wine to this plaza or that plaza.
As for the hostel itself.. great air-conditioning, free internet (2 terminals), very cozy and easy to meet people, but 2 bathrooms for 25+ people is a bit overkill. The lineup can take FOREVER, and you MUST request hot water ahead of time for a shower, otherwise be prepared to feel like a polar bear.
It's less than 10 minutes from Termini, which means you're in sort of a dodgy neighbourhood, but are uber close to the train station for connections, or just to catch the Metro around Rome.
The owner Kumar is hilarious and will totally crack you up when he comes in around dinnertime. Tito, the night guy, is super sweet and puts up with far too much. He's a great guy though, so if you stay here, try to cut him some slack.
Free breakfast (toast, cereal, drinks, etc) and FREE pasta, salad and wine for dinner which is great for the budget, especially since everyone always drinks and spends far too much in Roma.
Just a word to the wise.. do not hang out outside of the hostel making noise past 11. You will either be peed on or have an egg thrown at you. Nothing personal, but Romans like their sleep, too.
There is a lockout from 11 to 4.
3 out of 5

Athens: Pagration Youth Hostel 75 Damareos Str. (Pagrati)
It's always nice to chat with fellow Canucks on the road, so imagine my happiness when I discovered that Scott, the guy running the hostel, is from Vancouver. We caught up on all things Canadian, had a really strange chat about penile implants and ate figs. Sadly, Scott is just there temporarily, so you might end up with someone less funny and welcoming, but hopefully whoever replaces him will be as easygoing as he was.
You DO have to pay for hot water here, though, which was a major drawback. It's 50 cents for 7 minutes, and you NEED hot water unless you're ok with arctic temperatures to shower in.
Not a party hostel at all, since the neighbourhood has strict noise bylaws, but it's a quiet place and great to get caught up on sleep (I was horribly hungover when I got there).
For the price (€15 a night), it's a bargain.
2.5 out of 5

Fira, Santorini Santorini Hostel Kykladonisia Fira Traditional Settlement
Andreas, the manager here, was awesome! If it weren't for him I think my stay in Santorini would have been crap since I got there after high season, and my pickings for people to socialize with were slim.
That being said, this hostel had it's merits.. a cute kitten to cuddle with, a decent pool, sundeck, open air terrace, free internet (only one terminal, although Wi-Fi on the terrace), bar fridges in all the rooms and huge bathrooms. However, the rooms were kind of cramped, especially in my 6 person dorm.
Breakfast CAN be included in the price (mine was, because I'm apparently a 'nice girl'), but as a rule it generally wasn't, and there's no way I would have paid the extra $5 each morning for the tea, coffee, juice, bread and cake.
The biggest downfall is the lack of transfers to and from Fira. While most other hotels are clamboring for your business at the port, Kykladonisia is nowhere to be found leaving you to fend for yourself. You can catch a bus up to Fira (costs €1.50 and takes about 10 minutes), or you could try hitching a ride with another hotel on the premise of going to 'see' the rooms they are offering (not sure if they would charge you for the ride if you declined, though). Getting back is about the same, although be sure to check the bus schedules ahead of time. I didn't, discovered the bus stopped running to port 1/2 an hour prior and found myself paying €15 for a SHARED taxi to the port, all the while worried about my bag that the driver had nonchalantly strapped to the roof of the cab.
3.5 out of 5

Chora, Ios: Francesco's
Now THIS is a party hostel. Not only do they welcome you with a complimentary shot, but there's a fully functioning bar right off the terrace where everybody starts drinking around 8 or so (or all day, whatever you want to do). About midnight they corral all the guests on the terrace and take you out to the club that Francesco owns, called the Bluenote where the cocktails are 2 for 1 and the music is loud.
Breakfast isn't free, but items on the menu aren't too badly priced and are good portion sizes. Pass on the fresh squeezed orange juice though.. it's overpriced, unsweetened and tasted like bitter grapefruit juice.
The rooms are no great shakes, but optimally you won't be spending much time in yours anyway. The village is just down the stairs, view of the sunset from the terrace can't be beat, and the pool, which opens at 4 pm, is right down the hall.
I wish they had free internet, though. Internet is uber expensive on Ios, and it's no exception here.. €1 per 15 minutes.
Free transfers to and from the port, just email ahead for pickup from, and let them know a day in advance for transport to.
3.5 out of 5

Naxos: Soula Hotel St. Georgios Beach
For €10 a night I got a bed in a 4 person dorm with a small terrace, ensuite bathroom and kitchenette (2 burners, bar fridge, sink, dishes and cookware). It was by no means extravagant, but I could cook my own meals in peace, have a nice long shower and a decent sleep. The biggest drawback is that you have to pay €6 a night for AC. My roommates apparently didn't feel like splurging and neither did I, so we went without, but our room was in the basement anyway, so it stayed pretty cool.
Literally 60 feet from the beach.
Free transfers from the port -- you can email ahead or take your chances and hope the bus to the hotel is there (it probably will be).
Free internet in the lobby, breakfast is €5 extra, but I didn't stick around for it so can't comment.
A bargain for the price. Was nice and quiet, but not very social. I had a few guys in my room, but we all came back late and slept instead of socializing.
3 out of 5.

Naoussa, Paros: Camping Naoussa Near Naoussa Town
This place is going to make a killing someday. For €9 a night, you get your own tent, sleeping bag and mat in this neat little campground. It's about a minute walk to the beach, there's always hot water in the showers, a little kitchen area with a fridge, a dining area, a restaurant, a mini market and a bar. It was the off season when I got there, but the owner was friendly as all get out (even invited me to join his family for some wine and conversation later) and it made my night there a lot easier.
There is a shuttle that can pick you up from the port and bring you here, and it usually greets every boat coming in, so that's a good option. I rented a little 50cc quad from a rental agency in Parikia (the port town on Paros) and drove myself there, which took about 15 minutes. There's a bus that goes to Naoussa, too, but I wouldn't recommend it, since the campground is a bit of a walk from the townsite.
No breakfast on offer, but for less than €10, who cares?
4 out of 5.

Athens: Athen Style Hostel Agias Theklas N°10 (Monastiraki)
Thank God for Aussies with a sense of humor. Since I already posted a blog about my debacle the second time I was in Athens, I won't repeat myself, but suffice it to say that the Aussie front desk guy earned his paycheque the night I checked in and I'm happy with the service I recieved and grateful for help out of the lift.
That being said, the lift is screwed here.. you get in one side and out the other.. it makes about as much sense as, well, something that makes no sense at all (metaphors and I are not friends tonight). It's tiny, too. My backpack and I learned several things about each other that I've sworn I will keep private, but the point is, if you have a massive suitcase, have fun.
The roof terrace has an amazing view of the Acropolis, and is enjoyed just that bit more with a cheap bottle of Mythos from the terrace bar.
Being that it has an amazing view, you should also be aware that the Acropolis is completely within walking distance. In fact, across the main street and just down from the Applebees (yes, seriously, an Applebees in Athens) you will see a wall, and that is the start of the Ancient Agora at the foot of the hill.. it's that close.
Unfortunately, Monastiraki IS kind of a sketchy neighbourhood. Although I had no problems, my lovely Greek savior, Zaous, felt it was unsafe enough to walk me to the door of the hostel. And no, he wasn't just propping me up.
We were also warned about pickpockets and muggers at night, so be cautious.
The rooms are pretty standard, however mine hosted something of an unusual (and yet convenient) addition in the form of an extra shower outside of the bathroom (there's one in the bathroom, too). Very handy.
4.5 out of 5

It should be noted that without the use of websites like Hostelworld, Gomio and Hostelbookers, my reviews would be much more like:

The ambience outside the Starbucks in XYZ city left much to be desired. There was a funky smell (probably the garbage of decaying Blondies and old coffee in the dumpster beside me) that permeated the air, and my bed of old newspapers definitely could have been cushier.

Viva La Internet!

Canada -- is it REALLY better on Top... eh?

2008-09-15T11:49:00.000-07:00

Sorry that I've lapsed and not updated in a few days, but dealing with, 1) Jet Lag, 2) Building Dad's ginormous shop and 3) The loss of a family pet, has taken a lot out of me.

In any case, a quick update...

I made it into Calgary at about 4:30 in the afternoon on Thursday.

Was seated next to a lovely couple from Rocky Mountain House and talked about the merits of being a young, female solo traveller with the female half. She has a daughter who is teaching in Egypt right now, and if anything, it has made me even more driven to live abroad. The world outside your door is such a fascinating place.

Caught a city bus, then another city bus, and then another city bus in downtown Calgary and made it to the Greyhound depot at about quarter to 7, which was perfect since my bus left at 8.

I know I said I was really apprehensive about taking the bus after the beheading incident back in July, but honestly, I was too broke to care anymore.

In any case, Greyhound now does a cursory search of your hand luggage before you board the bus, so it did a little more my sense of security, although admittedly, I was too tired to really care.

I set my duffel up like a body pillow and fell dead asleep until Edmonton.

We switched buses there, and I got off and went out into the terminal.

I spent 4 and a half years living in E-town, taking the Greyhound about twice a year to numerous destinations and the last 2 months in Western Europe, and I can say that honestly, in the Greyhound station in downtown Edmonton, was one of the only times on this trip I seriously felt insecure and a little scared for my life.

Whatever happened to the Rent-a-Cops in that depot, I may never know, but I do know that around a quarter of the passengers in there were under the influence of something, and than I got hit up for change/cigarettes 3 times, and cursed at for not supplying one of the above once in a scant 15 minutes.

When the fuck did Edmonton become that dodgy?

Went back to sleep on the bus headed for Dawson, and one of the plus points of having many people too afraid to travel on the Greyhound is that buses are now half empty, which means that not once did I have to relinquish my seat space to someone else.

Got another few hours of (almost) uninterrupted sleep until Grande Prairie, called dad to wake him up, and pulled into the Demmit Fas Gas at 10 to 6 local time.

Spent the day unpacking, handing out gifts and picked up the cat from the boarding kennel. She pretty well hasn't left my side since. Her doing, not mine.

Now, I'm busy coping with a case of mystery hives and researching moving to Spain, because I'm serious about this for once.

A Good Dog

2008-09-13T10:41:00.000-07:00

I took this picture 7 years ago in a Photography course. If I remember correctly, it was one of my first 'test' shots with my camera. Our 'Golden Girls' were both such hams that it makes sense that they'd have starring roles in that roll of film. 'Dandy' in particular appears in over 50% of the pictures I took in that course, and actually earned me an 'A' with one particularly poignant shot (which I'm sure is still hiding in a box upstairs somewhere).

It is with a heavy heart that I announce her passing today.

'Dandy'
June 6, 2000 - September 13, 2008

I guess in some respects it makes me glad that I was home in order to say my goodbyes, and in others...

Goodbye, Sweetie.

Flight Delays

2008-09-11T01:24:00.000-07:00

I know I laugh and joke about the fact that I'm flying home on September 11th, but I didn't even take into consideration that Gatwick would be absolutely swarming with armed guards today.

Yep, big burly men with automatic weapons are literally every 6 feet as you enter the airport. Bomb detection dogs are sniffing everyone's luggage as they come in and I feel a little nervous and out of sorts...

Especially since my flight is delayed by 3 hours and 20 minutes currently, so I'm entertaining myself by whatever means possible until I can board, and figured I would write a quick update.

FYI, Gatwick is quite boring.

The next time I update I'll be jetlagged. I apologize in advance since I'll probably forget at the time.

London Forecast: Rain.. Surprised?

2008-09-10T04:25:00.000-07:00

Well, being hungover in Athens was a good lesson for me.

I spent the entire day in the hot sun with vast amounts of water and I sweated it out.

Saw the Acropolis, and then wandered down the Ancient Agora where a Greek guy followed me around for about an hour, pretending he wasn't following me around.

Finally he called out to me, told me his name was Yannis (aren't they all? Anglicized it would be similar to John) and asked if I wanted to go out for coffee.

Since I wasn't feeling up to coffee and wondered why he followed me around the Agora for an hour before he bothered asking me out, I made some long drawn out story about how I was meeting friends and didn't know Athens well enough to commit to anything and since I was mobile-less... well, he got the idea.

I didn't ever admit to being a good liar, and everyone knows I have trouble getting to the point, so he stopped me, shook my hand and went and stared at me from behind a tree while I walked away.

Bizarre.

Since it was getting later (and darker), the Agora was becoming more secluded and stalker boy didn't appear to be moving from his perch, I decided to cut my losses and wander back to the hostel to pack up my things for my flight the next day.

Stopped on a little market street and picked up some Ouzo, Metaxa and Halva for gifts, and then packed up everything as best I could and decided to go find some food.

Grabbed a smoothie and a turkey sandwich from the supermarket, and people watched for bit.

When I got back to the hostel, the Aussie who had been ever so patient with drunken and disorderly me the night prior was waiting for the lift.. the one he rescued me from.

I hid my face and muttered, "I am so sorry", and he turned and started laughing.

"No worries", he says.

"Are you feeling any better?"

I shake my head and explain my theory on why Athens is the worst city in the world to be hungover in, and he laughs and talks me into coming upstairs to have a beer in the terrace bar for happy hour.

So I went, because the concept of 'hair of the dog' seemed mildly appealing, and amazingly it worked.

Hung out with 3 Americans who were all traveling solo, and an Aussie couple joined us after a few.

In case you're interested, the name of my hostel is Athens Style and I highly recommend it, if for nothing else than the awesome view of the Acropolis lit up at night from the terrace bar. (I do intend to review all the hostels I stayed at when I get home and have a chance to)

I got into a conversation about my pending trip to South America next year, and Josh, one of the Americans started telling me about Peruvian food. The conversation became so animated that we literally talked ourselves into being hungry, so we went out and found ourselves Gyros and more beer.

Got back at near midnight and passed out cold.

My alarm went off at nine the next morning, so I had a shower, found a computer and confirmed the phone number of Ania, the lovely Australian girl I met in Florence who offered me a place to stay in London, and hopped the train to the airport.

The concept of public transport to the airport is something I wish Edmonton would look into already. It cost me 6 Euros and 45 minutes of my time to travel 20km outside of the city to the airport. This, as opposed to $50 and AN HOUR of my time spent with a cabbie who doesn't speak much English to travel 17km. Think about it city council?

In any case, I got to the airport in one piece, checked in, and then sat for almost 2 hours as my flight to London was extremely delayed.

Nodded in and out of consciousness for most of the flight, coming to for long enough to smile and ooh at the Austrian alps, and then struggled with ears that wouldn't quite pop on the descent into the UK.

My flight was supposed to arrive at Gatwick at quarter past 2, but it didn't actually arrive until quarter to 4, so by the time I had got my luggage sorted, made me way through another inquisitive customs agent (they are SO tough getting into the UK) and got myself a train ticket to London Victoria, it was after 4, and I was due to meet Ania at King's Cross/St. Pancras at 5.

Ahh. Run.

Made it to St. Pancras at quarter past 5 and looked everywhere for Ania, who was nowhere to be found.

Found a payphone and finally got through to her mobile and hopped the tube to Liverpool Street to meet up with her.

Dropped my bags at her place and we went out to get a cocktail and a burger so we could catch each other up on what happened after we left each other in Florence, especially since the last time we saw each other, I was going for a walk with 2 cute Albanians and she was sitting with 4 cute Americans. Teehee.

As a side-note, the last time I was in London it was beautiful, sunny and warm. This time.. well, typical London. I was happy when the pilot told us the forecast was for overcast but warm when we were leaving Athens, but it turns out meteorologists around the world are just playing the guessing game because it was pouring here and I got to use my rainjacket for the second time since I hit Europe.

Called mom to quickly let her know I'm ok, and that I'll call more from Calgary when I get in, and we went back to Ania's flat to sleep.

Ania's at work today and I've been bumming around her flat all morning eating Jaffa Cakes and drinking tea. Need to go hop in the shower and then head to the Tate, since that's one of the only things I missed last turn in London.

I fly out tomorrow, and I'm having mixed feelings. On one hand, I'm so broke I can hardly pay attention (Hello Mastercard!) and on the other, I really wish I had just stayed and worked in the Cyclades for a few weeks just so I had the money to extend my stay for a little bit.

This trip has been the single best experience of my life up to date. Fuck, I'm going to miss Europe.

In Greece they have Good Captains

2008-09-08T03:29:00.000-07:00

Why the hell am I always hungover in Athens?

I know you're thinking to yourself, "Probably because you drink too much, you GD lush!", but the reality is that on this trip I have only been hungover twice.

Both times in noisy, dirty, chaotic and VERY HOT Athens - my vote for worst city in the world to be hungover in.

Right now, I should be on top of the Acropolis snapping pictures in the midday heat, but the idea of sitting in a cool basement writing a blog entry seemed like a much better option. Go figure, right?

My last day of news is as follows:

Had a brilliant stroke of good luck when I got back to Parikía from Dryos where I was using the computer yesterday... turned down a random street and ended up right back at the rental place. No problems.

The guy at the rental place was trying to talk me into the idea of taking home a "Greek Souvenir". Little did I know the souvenir he had in mind was his 25 year old nephew Dimitri.

The guy wanted Dimitri to take me out for a drink before my ferry sailed, but since Dimitri spoke very limited English and wasn't really my type, I thanked him for his offer and headed to the middle of Parikía to sit on my backpack for a few hours instead.

Got on the ferry at 5 pm and set out towards Piraeus, with an extimated time of arrival of about 11:30 at night.

Mother Nature obviously had other ideas. About an hour off the shore of Paros, the winds started to kick up and waves started to crash into the side of the boat.

I continued reading my book, oblivious to the weather.

It wasn't until my book got ripped out of my hands and flew right into the back of a Greek guy's head in the row ahead of me that I chose to look around at the mayhem of scared looking tourists and swirling garbage.

The Greek brought my book back to me, introduced himself as Zaous and explained that the wind is completely natural going back to Piraeus, because we're travelling against the strong north wind.

Feeling better, but not sufficiently ok, I cracked my bottle of cheap Santorini wine, mixed it with some orange Fanta and settled in for a long ride.

Tried 7 times to land on the island of Tinos due to the almost gale force winds hitting us by that point, and we resigned ourselves to a very delayed landing in Piraeus.

Which bring me back to the title of this entry... the captain could have moored on the dock, but it would have knocked everyone not sitting in a secured seat on their hind ends. Since I was almost completely pissed by that point, I wish I could have thanked him for not doing that, since I probably would have been tossed overboard.

My Greek compadre explains all this to me, and I smile while thinking about the thoughtful ferryboat captain.

"In Greece they have good Captains", I smile dreamily.

Zaous just about wets himself, he's laughing so hard.

We finally land, drop some people, pick some people up and set sail for our final destination.. the mainland.

A voice comes on the loudspeaker, and Zaous strains to hear the words.

"They expect us to arrive in Athens at about 2, maybe 2:30", he says with a scowl.

"Oh well", I say, emptying the last of my cheap wine into my cup.

"Fuck It", Zaous says to me. "Do you ever use that phrase in Canada?"

"Hell yes", I say, "I think we might have invented it.

He goes downstairs and comes back with 2 of the small bottles of wine that they sell on ferries, and a few glasses.

We talk a cute little gay Greek into joining us, and we all proceed to get tanked and have the best conversation that 3 total strangers can have on a boat in the middle of the Aegean.

We arrived in Piraeus at 2:30, and Zaous says goodbye, as does Ioannis, the little gay Greek.

I stumble out with the enormous backpack from hell and realize.. I don't have a fucking clue where I'm going.

It's nearing 3 in the morning, and I have a hostel booked in Monasteraki, the name and address of which I cannot recall, and the metro lines are all closed. Shit.

So I cried for a bit because, hey, it's really scary being in a foreign country with no idea of where to go, and this young scruffy looking guy wanders over and asks me in broken English if I'm ok.

I pour my heart out to him, and he mentions something about going to a Starbucks.

In retrospect, I realize he was probably homeless and he was probably telling me we could go SLEEP outside the Starbucks, but lacking for a better plan, I followed him until I hear someone calling my name.

Zaous is standing on the side of the road looking completely confused to see this drunken Canadian wandering along having an involving conversation with a bum, so he wanders over, leads me gently back to the car where his wife is waiting, and they drive me to my hostel. I can't even explain how we found it except that I recalled a few landmarks mentioned in the directions from when I booked it, and I have a horseshoe up my ass.

Got stuck in the lift and the Aussie receptionist at the hostel had to rescue me, so I'm happy I've made a good impression on him at least.

Passed out and that brings me to the present.

I love the Greeks.

Paros and the Bumblebee

2008-09-07T02:04:00.000-07:00

I realize that I completely skipped over Naxos, but internet cafes are becoming a bit of a rarity lately so I'll do a quick rehash.

Naxos was very low-key, I checked into my hostel and went to the beach for a quick swim and some sun time.

Grabbed some groceries from the market and went back to my hostel to make a quick dinner (one cannot live on Gyros alone.. even at 2 Euros each), then I walked downtown and caught sight of a sign that was a sign.

That sounds bizarre, I know, but the truth is I've been talking about doing just what this sign was telling me to do since at least Barcelona, maybe before. Although I distinctly remember talking with Maeve about this in BCN.

So I went and saw Mamma Mia in Greece. In an open air theatre.

And I drank my watermelon Breezers and I sang along with all the ABBA goodness and I reflected on the fact that right now, my life is too fucking cool.

Onto Paros, so I caught the noon ferry and ran into 2 couples from Vernon. We passed the time by reminiscing about home, since they'd been on the road just about as long as I had. The one lady had worked in Fort Nelson and Dawson Creek for years, and had just sold her second home in Dawson, so we chatted about life in the north country and the sad fact that I am very soon returning to it. Of course this conversation was done in the warm Greek sunshine on the Aegean, so I was doubly depressed.

Landed on Paros, said my goodbyes and hauled my butt and my enormous backpack (which may explode before I arrive home) down the street to grab some lunch. Gyros, of course. As if there was any other option.

I was standing there, attempting not to get the juice all over me (have already tossed one pair of shorts and 2 shirts due to the dreaded "Gyro's Juice", or grease as it's known in other parts of the world) and I saw this girl drive by on one of the thousands of little quads rented out in the Cyclades every year.

So I found myself a quad. She's yellow, and she's not very fast and she sort of sounds like a bumblebee.. and thus I named her the Bumblebee.

The Greek owner hit on me for a bit, even going so far as shoving his mobile in my hand so he could call me to show me around, so I tied my luggage on and made my escape as fast as I could to Naoussa (which is about 10 km from Paroikia, the port town) where I had decided I was going to look for a place to stay.

Cruised down the main drag and then followed the signs up to Naoussa, where I saw a sign for "Naoussa Camping".

Score.

I've been bitching about not getting to camp all summer (despite the fact that I am backpacking around Europe, which I'm sure most of you are ready to growl at me as you bludgeon me with your tent pegs), so I pulled in, paid the paltry €9 to rent my spot, a tent, sleeping bag and pad, and set up camp.

Which took about a minute.

So I pulled on my swimsuit, drove up to Santa Maria - which is just about as far north as you can get on Paros - and drank a Corona while I stared at the beautiful people cavorting on the sand.

Yeah, despite my gorgeous tan, I still don't feel confident enough to play on a the beach like a sandy Playboy Bunny.

I kept driving and found my own little private beach, much like horny Cal the New Yorker, told me I was likely to.

Went for a swim, snapped some photos (which will be uploading soon, I promise!!!) and then drove back to Naoussa to have a shower and put on something a little more presentable.

Long story short, I drove a lot last night in search of an internet cafe or just fellow tourists who might know of one, and no dice on either front.

I did however loop ALL the way around the island on the highway, just about felt the Bumblebee fly (around Dryos on the south of the island, the winds kick up a lot, especially on the crests of the hill), and made it back about 11, where I had a glass of wine, tried my hand at my french with the french couple playing chess, and then went to bed so I could have an early start today.

Today, I strapped my bag on my bike, checked out and have been wandering aimlessly all day just checking things out, and playing tacky tourist. I even paid €2 to go see the Valley of the Butterflies.

I also got yelled at in Greek for signalling to turn into the Valley of the Butterflies. Greeks don't like it when you obey road rules. It makes them nervous.

I, lacking for a better idea, gave him a disgusted wave and yelled the one Greek word I know that suited the situation: "Malaka!"

Although, I'm sure I've spelled it wrong, from what I gather, the sound of the word can mean anything from "You're stupid" to "Your Mother!", so it seemed suitable enough.

In any case, My ferry leaves at 5 for Piraeus, and hopefully I make it there before midnight (ferries are notoriously hard to count on around these parts) so I can get to Athens before the metro stops running, check into my hostel, get some sleep and then go to the Acropolis tomorrow.

5 days until my feet hit Canadian soil. Would y'all miss me if I just didn't come back? Honestly?

Last Night in Ios

2008-09-05T00:27:00.000-07:00

I hate that I'm leaving Ios today.

I love that my last night was so beautiful and so memorable that I'll never forget it.

I adore the fact that my best night in Ios thus far was spent almost stone cold sober.

It started out pretty lame, since I was sleeping from 8 until 3, but when Gavin (the Cali wine major, remember?) came stumbling in at 3 and admonished me for not going out, I went.

I decided to hit the Coo Club, where I was the night before with Kiki the Aussie and Cal the horny New Yorker, grabbed a drink and scoped the place out.

I recognized NO ONE, so I grooved by myself for a bit until a cute Iranian/Austrian (I know, bizarre mix, right? He was beautiful, trust me, and best accent ever!) that I had met and briefly danced with the night before came in.

We hugged and then almost immediately started dancing with one another.

For like 3 hours.

It was great.

I had a few more drinks, but since my cash stopped at 20 Euros, 3 was my limit, and so we grabbed a few waters and checked out another club where we danced for another 1/2 hour.

He was almost completely sober, too, but he didn't have the benefit of a few hours of sleep like I did, so I drove his quad up to the top of the island where we checked out the sunrise from an old marble amphitheatre.

The sunrises on the Cyclades islands are beautiful. Actually, beautiful isn't even the word. I see God every morning in the sunrises here. And the sunsets to be honest.

It was utterly the most romantic, most beautiful night/morning I've had so far on this trip, and today I leave my beautiful man and my beautiful island with only my beautiful memories.

Onto Naxos. *sigh*

Night #2

2008-09-04T03:19:00.000-07:00

Spent much of yesterday on the beach sleeping off my hangover.

Didn't know which beach to go to so I ended up just following the handpainted signs all the way down the side of a mountain on a treacherous goat path until I ended up on a beach with the word "Nude" spray painted on the side of the mountain.

Didn't think much of it at first. I'm in Europe and therefore see topless women on the beaches all the time, but it wasn't until I saw my first penis that it hit me.

I found a nude beach.

No, I did not strip down and bare all, nor did I blatantly stare at naked bodies like an ignorant North American.

I went to sleep.

Woke up when the sun started to disappear down the side of the mountain beside me, and a young Greek guy with a very obvious boner showing through his tight Speedo style swimmers came over and asked if I had a lighter.

Well, not that I knew that he was asking for a lighter since he asked me in Greek and I was still in the process of joining the land of the living, but the flicking motions and the cigarette dangling out of his mouth spoke volumes.

He sat by me the entire time he smoked his cigarette, and I didn't encourage conversation, so I decided to just pack up my things and head back to the hostel to avoid any further awkwardness.

I went back there today, and had a few hours of blissful solitude until 20 kayaks with party hardy Aussies showed up, complete with beers coolers and volleyballs, and since my head couldn't take that, I left.

As for last night, I can't put my finger on it, but the vibe seemed really off. I mean, that didn't stop me from downing 5 Sangria, 6 Sex on the Beach and at least 4 (all free!) Malibu and Pineapple Juice, but it wasn't nearly as much fun as the night before. Hung out with my roommate, Cal, the horny New Yorker, for most of the night, crawled to a few different places, got horribly lost and then made it back home in time to say goodnight to my other roommate, Gavin, the Californian Wine Studies Major (what a cool major, right?).

Cal left this morning for Santorini, and Gavin and I slept until 1:30, which was awesome.

Tonight, I'm going to ditch the hostel crowd and do my own thing. I saw a lot of pseudo-locals that looked like fun, and since a few really cute ones were buying me drinks last night, I want to explore that option rather than hang out with a bunch of Canadians, Americans and Aussies that I have to face the next morning.

Plus, I really want to go out for an awesome Greek dinner now that I'm here, so sitting and socializing on the hostel terrace would simply take too much time.

On the homefront, Mom got Xplornet yesterday and I am very excited that my folks are joining the 21st century, and that I don't have to go back home to the headaches of dialup.

Could have done without the emails from the beekeeper in Ontario who is mistakingly getting my embarrassingly personal messages home. Apparently Mom didn't check the availability of her new email address before sending out a mass email alerting everyone to her future email address.

One more night in Ios and then I'm off to Naxos tomorrow morning. Haven't yet decided if I will stay there for one night and then try Paros, or stay there for a few nights, or just the one and then back to Athens for some culture (Yeah, culture).

Ios.. to Summarize.. Thus far

2008-09-03T01:54:00.000-07:00

I'm hungover so I'm allowed to make punctuation mistakes.

Why are all the cute Aussies only 19-22????

I met up with these 2 when I got to my hostel last night and it wasn't until the 4th or 5th bar that I finally realized I didn't know how old they were. 18 and 19.

Damn it.

In any case, horseback riding was only alright. I think the slow season has been felt in very profession in Greece as the horses we rode apparently hadn't been out since the beginning of summer.

They were all a little spunky, not that I minded, and the surly Greek guide refused to let us do anything faster than a trot, which for all those who know me, know I think is beyond lame.

We did go on the beach briefly though.

Almost missed my ferry to Ios last night. It took the surly Greek forever to tack up the horses, so by the time everything was done it was quarter to 6. Being in Kamari, with my luggage in Fira and my ferry leaving from Port Athinios was not making me feel comfortable, so we took a taxi back to Fira, and then I caught one to Port where the cabbie ripped me off in typical Greek fashion.

My head hurts.

Stop the Sandwich

2008-09-02T00:11:00.001-07:00

I'm a little sleepy still and I was sick of serious titles, so I decided to use my Santorini catch phrase for the name of this one.

Basically, Andreas, the front desk guy at the hostel I'm staying at was speaking to me in 5 or 6 of the different languages he's picked up (he's Albanian by descent, but has been a Greek citizen for 17 years) and one mixed phrase he used sounds exactly like "Stop" in French and "The Sandwich" in Spanish. I'm sure that's not what he meant but I laugh at him all the time, since those are 2 words I HAVE picked up on this trip (when you don't eat shellfish or fish, Bocadillas/Sandwiches are one of the safest bets in Spain).

In any case, my past few days in a nutshell:

Checked out of the cute room Sunday morning after 12 glorious hours of straight sleep. I fell asleep to "The Bachelor" with Chris O'Donnell (amazingly, I had never seen it, and was not surprised why I hadn't, since it's not the greatest movie I've ever seen) and woke up to some strange guy frozen on my screen.

Woke up to church bells (oh no! Biassa, Italy all over again!), and decided it was time to move on to someplace a little more, uhh, social, so I walked over to a hostel nearby and got a room there.

Unfortunately, only in Santorini is a hostel actually more expensive than a small private room, but I get breakfast, a pool and conversation out of the deal so I can't really fault it.

Met a few girls that were staying in my room -- 2 from Australia, 1 from Calgary (Bula) and one from Chicago (Cara), and went out for breakfast with them.

Afterwards, my 2 fellow North Americans and I went for frappes (yeah, I do drink coffee now and again, again. Most notably super potent espressos before the club.) and then I came back to the hostel to hang out with Andreas and Angela (the Bulgarian chambermaid).

Made myself a Calimocho from the cheap red from Fira's major supermarket (would have made Jasper's main supermarket crack up into hysterics) and the Coke Zero the girls in the room left for me and headed to Kamari Beach with Andreas and Angela for a late afternoon swim. Grabbed some gyros and caught the bus back to Fira, where I met up with Bula and Cara again, where we chatted and I discovered Cara has, literally, the coolest job ever.

She is the American contestant on an online reality TV show called "The Gap Year" where 6 young people from the 5 English speaking areas of the world (Canada, Ireland, USA, New Zealand, Australia and the UK) travel around the world for 6 months competing in challenges and seeing places they'd formerly only dreamed of seeing. From what I can gather, they don't really win anything at the end (although sponsorship deals seem to score them some pretty sweet SWAG), but what an experience.

I have decided I must become the most interesting person possible in the next year in the off chance that this show becomes a HUGE HIT and I can be the Canadian representative next year.

Went out clubbing with Andreas on Sunday night, which was probably ill-advised since I had been up since 6 that morning and he's really into giving neck rubs when you look sad. That left me in an almost comatose state, slumped over my Malibu and Pineapple Juice, and we left shortly before 3 in the morning (a short night when you only leave at 1).

Yesterday I had a pretty relaxed day in. Went swimming in the pool, sunbathed, read my book, picked up more booze, played with Andreas' kitten (cutest kitten in the world, FYI) and then went with Andreas and an Australian girl named Siobhan to Kamari again for the afternoon.

Went out for dinner, had some AWESOME moussaka and retsina and have made plans to go horseback riding today with Siobhan.

I'm going to miss Santorini like crazy. If you ever have the opportunity to come here, please do. If you have the opportunity to move here and work for the summer, I will literally kill you if you turn it down. Seriously. My envy would asphyxiate you.

Ode to a Sandal/Flip-Flop/Thong/Whatever

2008-09-01T00:37:00.000-07:00

Over 5 weeks ago I spotted you in a little shop in Lisbon. You sparkled in the window like the cheery optimism that sparkled inside me, and I knew that I wanted you to adorn my feet to remind me of the happiness I was then feeling.

After a wonderful night in a wonderful city, I didn't even care how much you would set me back, but was so happy when the shopgirl looked at you, looked at me pointing at you and smiled and struggled with the words, "Three Euro Ninety". For only €4 you became mine.

You became my footwear back to the hostel, and when I experienced my first (minor) setback in the trip and felt dejected, I looked down at you and I remembered that only mere hours before, I was overjoyed, and I smiled.

You became my club footwear in Sevilla, my beach sandals in Almeria, my dinner shoes in Barcelona. I slipped you on whenever I struggled to the hostel's dining room for a piece of bread before breakfast ended for the morning, hungover and not feeling up to doing up the velcro or laces in my other pairs.

I wore you whenever I wanted to set off my tan, whenever I wanted to feel sexy or pretty, and you never once failed me.

Last night I wore you for my last time. From the moment I set foot on the cobblestones and heard Andreas tell me how happy he was we were going clubbing, I knew you had a limited life.

I just about cried when you broke on the dancefloor, in mid twirl with the coked out Slovakian girl who was trying desperately to engage me in something.

I stopped, looked down at you and back at Andreas and I left the club to be alone with you for one last moment.

Then I went across to the only shoe shop open at 1:30 in the morning on Santorini, bought a pair of red sandals and I threw you out.

I will miss you. I should have bought 2 pairs of you.

I am slowly growing sleepy...

2008-08-30T01:09:00.000-07:00

Well, I didn't sleep really.

I had a catnap right after we set off, but the sun was beating down on me the entire time and there was a Greek guy across from me with the most obnoxious laugh, so it was a no go.

I tried after the sun went down again, but it went the opposite extreme. Between the moist air and the breeze over the deck, I was actually freezing, so I drifted in and out of consciousness for a bit.

I bet that if I tallied up the total number of hours I've slept in the past 5 weeks, it would boggle one's mind.

I'd wager a guess that it would average out to less than 5 hours a night.

Considering that many of my days couldn't really be considered sedentary (covering large cities on foot, scaling volcanoes and walking up thousands of stairs just for a great picture aren't my regular activities back in Canada amazingly), I'm actually pretty impressed with myself.

I suppose it is a little easier to wake up when your day consists of seeing some of the most beautiful places on the planet, sometimes followed by a refreshing dip in a blue-green sea.

I can't imagine why answering phones and filing paperwork doesn't illicit the same sort of enthusiasm from me.

So when I got off the bus from Athinios Port at Santorini's capital of Fira today, I didn't even hesitate to ask how much a PRIVATE room was from one of the many people offering rooms to let.

For 20 Euros a night I have hot water (oh, how I've missed you), a queen sized bed and central air in a cute room with a nice view on a beautiful island in a beautiful city.

Jealous yet?

Wait one second.. in my sleep deprived state I wrote just what I was feeling last night:

My definition of peace:

Watching the twinkling lights of beautiful little greek island towns greeting you across the water as you lounge on the deck of a ferry bound for your idea of heaven on earth accompanied by a paper, pen and good music on your MP3 player.

It's allowed to be a run-on sentence when it describes something that idyllic. It also didn't hurt to have a cute Aussie guy across from me.

Really. Mop up your drool.

Ferry Parties and Pseudo-Hangovers

2008-08-29T01:06:00.000-07:00

Got on the ferry to Patras with only small issues.

I wasn't sure how to get into the port since the only entrance was manned by a surly looking armed guard, so I walked all the way around the port until I spotted a couple of Aussies speaking English. Turns out they were on their way to Patras, too, albeit on different boats from one another.

I got in, bought my ticket (on the deck, there was a HUGE difference between deck seats and 6 bed sleepers), and made my way up to the top to scope out my 'camping spot'.

It was empty since there were about 3 and a half hours until the boat departed, so I grabbed a Corona and a bottle of water from the deck bar and sat on a seat to people watch a read some of my book.

A few minutes later a couple sitting a few tables away from me asked where in Canada I was from, and I found out they were both going to school in London, Ontario, so we sat and started chatting. Ryan and Cheryl are both going to law school, and are taking a few weeks off to see the sights on southern Europe until cracking down and hitting the books this year.

Lisa, the Aussie girl I met outside the port, passed me about then, and said she was going to find a place to sleep and would be right back, so after she dropped her luggage and set up her bed, she sat down and the 4 of us started talking about everything under the sun.

The boat left at about 9:30 and we were already feeling pretty tipsy. Between me and an Aussie girl across the deck we drank the bar out of Coronas, so I switched to skunky German beer until Ryan suggested we go down to the bar on the next deck, so I dropped my luggage in their room for safe-keeping and he bought 2 rounds of Jaeger-Bombs and a few bottles of wine to get us started there.

Lisa had went to sleep, but since I was almost completely pissed by that point, I woke her up and convinced her to come join us.

The bar was almost completely empty except for us and a large group of what we speculated were either Aussies or Kiwis, so I approached them to find out and discovered they were Aussies and all together on a Contiki tour. As a former front desk agent from resort town, Alberta, I know Contiki is almost another word for "Tour full of Crazies who like to party" so I chatted them up and convinced them to start dancing with Cheryl and I despite the fact that there was really no dance floor and "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones can never really be considered a dance song.

Cheryl was starting to get a little tired so she went off to bed, I grabbed my luggage and stowed it beside Lisa's and we sent Ryan off to join Cheryl.

Started talking to one of the guest services guys and one of the bartenders from the bar, and the next thing you know we ended up in the (now completely abandoned bar) talking about relationships.

Guest Services guy kissed me and mentioned that he could give us a private room if we wanted one, but since I know that those things don't come without a 'price', I left and found the group of Contiki Aussies to hang out with.

Things get foggy at that point, but I think we spent most of the night drinking Screwdrivers since the bar was open all night, and ended up hanging on the back deck by where our camping spot was.

We docked at Corfu for about 1/2 an hour, and a guy named Clayton and I had a spitting contest to see who could actually hit Corfu.

I hit a truck destined for Corfu and since the rules of the contest weren't clearly defined, I was deemed the winner.

Watched the sun rise over the Ionian islands and realized that my chance to sleep was over, so I sucked it up and had a 20 minute nap in one of the Aussie dorm rooms in a tiny cramped little bed with Clayton.

Lisa woke up at around 8, so we got our swimsuits on and went for a swim in the ferry pool and then packed our bags and got ready to disembark.

I am 100% certain I was still completely drunk, so once we docked and established that there was a 2 hour wait for the train to Athens, Lisa and I opted to catch a bus at the station for 17 Euros.

Slept the entire way to Athens, and got there feeling the effects of the alcohol.

In retrospect, drinking and not sleeping enroute to Athens, of all places in the world was a poorly thought out decision, since Athenians can't even stand the summer heat in August. Imagine one exhausted, hungover Canadian girl wandering around the bus station in Athens with no idea of where her hostel is and you get a picture of what hell is like.

A really nice guy at the bus station ended up showing us almost the entire way to the hostel, and I am so thankful he did, because there's no way we could have navigated the streets and public transportation system in Athens without his help.

Made it, checked in, chatted to the guy named Scott from Vancouver who works there, showered and then decided to go check out the area and find an internet cafe.

We found a kebab place, grabbed a bite to eat and checked out the stadium where the first modern Olympics were held in 1896. Then we wandered down the street and took a few pictures of the Arch of Hadrian and Olympieion at night.

Went back to the hostel, talked to Scott and a girl named Kristen from Seattle, and went to grab some sleep.

Woke up at 8 this morning, hopped on a bus, and then another bus and then the Metro and finally found my way to Piraeus, where I bought my ticket to Santori.

I leave at 3 this afternoon and arrive at 6 tomorrow morning.

Here's to hoping I actually sleep on this boat.

Ciao, Roma

2008-08-27T06:21:00.000-07:00

A quick note, because I forgot to mention it in my last post on Pompeii -- discovered yesterday that Sunday, the day we hiked up Vesuvius and toured Pompeii was actually the 1929th anniversary of the day Vesuvius buried Pompeii. Uncanny and completely unintentional but a hella cool story, nonetheless.

Anyway, onto current events:

The Vatican is seriously overwhelming.

I can't think of anything else to describe it.

The night before I went, I was at the hostel and not into getting up to trouble with the party crowd, so I hung out with the quiet stoners and chatted about life. About one or so, 2 girls from Ontario showed up, and one of them started talking to me about her trip to Rome, so far. We were talking about travelling, and she mentioned that she didn't know that she'd ever make it back to Rome with so many other places on her list.

I asked whether she had thrown her coin into the Trevi, and she gave me a blank look.

"Trevi?", she asked.

The newest Canadian guy to reside in the 'Canadian guy bed' (so named because it seems to always be occupied by fellow Canucks, obviously) gave her a look.

"The fountain?", he asked.

"You haven't been to the fountain yet? I've been here for half a day and I've already seen the fountain."

She looked a little embarrassed, and admitted she hadn't even heard of the Trevi Fountain.

And that is how we ended up walking across Rome to the Trevi fountain at 2 in the morning, and ending up lost until about 4.

It was, however, one of the best things I did in Rome. That fountain is awe-inspiring by day surrounded by hundreds of tourists. By night, it is the most romantic place on earth.

Needless to say, after getting lost in the eternal city until the wee hours, waking up at 7 for the Vatican took everything I had, but I made it, wandered around St. Peter's Basilica for a bit and then went into the square to make my way to the museum.

I passed a large group of people and a woman holding a sign that said "Free Tour" so I merged into the group and followed them for a much more informative tour of the Basilica and then into the museums, for a brief (2 hour) tour of the highlights of the museums and then into the Sistine Chapel.

I've been told by so many people that the Sistine underwhelmed them, and I can understand that if only because you spend several hours walking around seeing artifacts and exhibits that are amazing, beautiful and rare, and after the lavish display of the Catholic Church's vast riches, who cares about a ceiling, right?

I did, actually.

Michelangelo took 4 years out of his life, painting and fresco'd that ceiling by hand, and couldn't ever hold his head up correctly for the rest of his life.

I can appreciate that dedication, and I can appreciate how utterly magnificent that ceiling truly is.

Getting my funny tour guide's take on the secrets inside "The Last Judgement" and her information on the restoration work of the ceiling itself was fascinating, as well and really added to my experience.

We ended the tour by visiting the Vatican Grotto, and I was starving so I grabbed some souvenirs, some pizza and then made my way to the nearest Metro station.

I felt really ill and overheated by that point, but attributed it to having my first meal at 3 pm, so I found an internet cafe and by the time 1/2 an hour was up on my computer I was so ill I couldn't even sit up straight.

Went back to my hostel, had a cold shower and a lie down, and when I woke up with a headache, decided it was too ambitious to go celebrate my last night in Rome with Harriet, so prepared myself for a quiet night in.

It didn't really happen since all the people in my hostel were ready for night #5 of drunken debauchery and drinking card games, but Tito, the night guy, kicked them out at 11, and I had a nice chill glass of wine with a couple for Australia and went to bed so I could get up early this morning.

Caught my train just before 9 to Bari, the port where I will be crossing over to Greece. I will miss Rome, but I didn't have the love affair with it that I did Florence. Rome is just a very fun city.

Got off the train at Foggia for a stretch to go grab some food from a vending machine, but since they were all broken, I sucked it up and went to the lone fast food place in the small station -- McDonalds.

Ordered a Big Mac, which seemed to take FOREVER, almost missed the train (had one minute to spare and got on the wrong carriage just so I was on the train) and then on the train, discovered I was missing my pass and ticket.

Hyperventilated while frantically digging through all my luggage, while the nice conductor patiently waited and the 2 sweet Italian guys helped me look all through the carriage for it. One of them finally located it in the book I was reading, so crisis averted. My need for a cigarette was pretty strong though.

Damn stress.

In any case, I made it to Bari in one piece and am currently enroute to the Ferryport to reserve my seat for tonight at 8pm. I should be in Patras, Greece by afternoon tomorrow and if not, I'm at the bottom of the Adriatic.

If that should happen, burn the wooden box in my room without opening it and split my books and DVDs amongst yourselves.

At best, here's to hoping I don't get too seasick.

Cheers!

Pub Crawls, Fountains and Volcanoes

2008-08-25T02:24:00.000-07:00

Rome is great fun.

I got in early Friday afternoon, found my hostel, introduced myself to my roommates and TRIED to have a nap. No dice.

Finally decided by 7 - after wandering around bleary eyed looking for a cash machine - that sleep was an impossibility, but a pub crawl was DEFINITELY in the cards.

After a quick shower and application of makeup, 4 of my roommates and I made our way on the Metro to the Spanish Steps for one of the bigger Roman pub crawls.

We established when we got there, that there were at least 200 people for the crawl, possibly as many as 300, so we crowded our way to the first bar, stood in line for what seemed like forever, watched half of the group wander off on a seperate pub crawl, then finally paid our twenty and made our way in to consume as much free alcohol as we could before going to the next bar and, ugh, paying for booze.

Became an official University of Toronto alum when a girl from the UofT group gave me an extra green VIP bracelet.

I'm still not clear what it entitled me to but I do know I was the only person there with both green and pink bracelets which makes me, by definition, awesome.

I may have bought a packet of cigarettes.

No, disappointingly I really did.

They were Lucky Strikes and they came with an awesome lighter shaped like a hockey puck. What Canadian could resist?

I did lose them at some point during the night and wasn't smoking the next morning, although I still claim ownership of the cooler-than-you-are lighter.

This does not mean that I am a smoker again.

The last bar of the night was on a boat, so Nathan from Fort Nelson (how random that I meet someone from my neck of the woods in Rome, Italy?) and I snagged a table at the top of the boat where I proceeded to get tanked on Malibu and Pineapple juice.

Harriet from England found a group of Irishmen to challenge to drinking competitions, and did our fair sex proud when she won hands down. We sat with them anyway, despite them being disappointing competitors, and I almost convinced one of them to jump in the (very polluted, very green) Tiber, but since all I had was €20 and my Mastercard, it was a no go. Sadly plastic still isn't accepted in dares, despite the year being 2008.

Was really growing concerned about one of the boys, as he kept looking like he might be in danger of nodding off. We kept him alert by handing him the camera to take pictures, but it turns out he was just saving his energy for the dance floor. He turned into a machine. I went into (long dormant) club kid mode, which I'm sure was terrifying and ran into a group of BC-ites I'd met in Florence at JJ Cathedral. The world grows smaller and smaller.

We left at some point, and after hearing the story of how Harriet went fountain diving with the 3 Aussie girls that preceeded me in the room, and knowing firsthand just how easy to convince she was ("Pompeii on a Saturday morning? But then you can't drink tonight! Go Sunday Instead."), I pointed out the fountain enroute to the Kebab shop (that we never actually located), and although there was no attempted swimming in the 3 inches of water, we did run through the jets of water, reminiscent of running through sprinklers as a child.

Great fun.

On the walk back to the hostel (which due to Nathan, we DID locate), I realized just how uncomfortable it is to walk around in wet, soggy slacks. So I did what any drunk person would do. I stripped them off and walked in only my t-shirt, which thankfully was only JUST long enough to be a decent dress. Barely. If one squinted while looking at me.

Drinking does tend to make you less discretionary about things like modesty and dress length.

Couldn't find my pants the next morning, which made me sad, and a little confused since I almost distinctly remembered putting them back on in the Metro stairwell across from the McDonalds (in case McDonalds has implemented some sort of 'no pants, no service' rule in Rome).

Turns out they were under Harriet's bed and my day instantly brightened.

After the McDonalds incident, I assume we made it back to the hostel, since I woke up in bed, and Nathan and I took off to go see the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon and the the Mausoleum of Hadrian. It was a relief to hand off the responsibilities of getting from A to C while stopping to check out B to someone else for a change. I do enjoy getting lost in cities, just not while tired and a bit hungover.

Got back to the hostel at about 4, and I had a wonderful nap until 6. Enjoyed the free pasta dinner at the hostel (Freestyle Hostel in Rome.. FREE DINNER!), and then Harriet, Nathan and I went to have a glass of sangria and checked out the night market on the river.

When we got back, I went to try to find an internet cafe/International Call Centre to upload some photos and to call mom, but I had no luck.

Rome is this really substantial city where almost nothing is open on Sunday, Monday or past 11. It's kind of surreal.

Walking back to the hostel, I was so frustrated with not getting to call home, and the dirty old men/sleazy groups of black men making comments and catcalls after the lone white girl wandering around after dark, that I ended up flipping one guy off after he kept following me asking where I was from. How dare he, right?

Let's just say that if you are a moderately attractive, young woman wandering the streets of Italy alone, you get a lot of it, and after the thousandth time in a week, you're bound to reach a breaking point.

I'm still not sure why Algerian/Italian/Moroccan/Tunisian/Whatever else I missed men seem to think catcalls, wolf whistles and pestering pretty girls is the best way to meet women, but they do.

God help us all.

Harriet, Nathan and I woke up really early yesterday morning and hopped on a train bound for Naples to see Pompeii and Mt. Vesuvius.

We weren't sitting together, so I was stuck with 4 Italian men who all looked up hopefully when I walked into our carriage.

Now I know what strippers must feel like when they walk into bachelor parties.

I put on my headphones so I wouldn't have to make awkward conversation, and tried my hardest to sleep all the way there.

We got the Vesuvio Express bus to the starting point of Mt Vesuvius, and while Nathan happily skipped his way to the top of the volcano, Harriet and I dragged ourselves with every last ounce of strength to the top, hating the fact that we had both given years of our lives to cigarettes.

Vesuvius is very cool, and well worth the (excruciatingly painfully steep and slippery) 15 minute walk. Good Times.

We had lunch, and then caught the Naples train to Pompeii where we took crap loads of pictures and stared at the erotic paintings on a brothel wall and giggled like little kids.

Tried to find a pizza place, since Napoli is the birthplace of the pizza, but again, no luck since almost everything seems to be closed on Sundays in Italy.

Instead we walked around a really sketchy area of town searching for the train station, avoiding massive piles of garbage and stray dogs, and trying desperately not to get mugged.

Happily, no mugging, dog attacks or plague outbreaks, but Naples is definitely not on my "Will Return To" list of cities. It is dirty, huge and really scary.

Made it back to the train station, and then resigned ourselves to Kebabs and beans for dinner. I think I'm more sad about not getting pizza in Naples than I am about missing the French Riviera, as a whole.

We were very worried that by the time we made it back to Rome, and then hostel at past 11, we would wake everyone up.

Turns out we were worried for nothing.. there was a massive party going on in our room, and so we drank cheap wine and stood around near a bar until about 2 this morning.

My liver hates me.

I'm off to the Colisseum today and the Vatican tomorrow because I am SERIOUSLY lacking culture.

Arrivederci, Florence.

2008-08-22T01:45:00.001-07:00

I kind of feel like shedding a tear about that.

I really enjoyed Florence. I think it's funny that I've had my most active nightlife in a small city that offers almost no weekday nightlife (unlike the rest of Europe), but it has been a really good time.

FYI -- I ended up going for a walk with a cute boy.

Off to Rome.

Under the Tuscan Sun (and moon)

2008-08-21T10:03:00.000-07:00

Went to Lucca yesterday which is this small city about 2 hours by train from Florence.

Was having a great time on the train listening to music (I think I listened to Metro Station's "Shake It" about 20 times.. it's like my new theme song after nights out), eating my lunch kebab, smiling like a moron, and smiling at the hot Italian guy across the aisle.

The hot Italian got off at a station about 20 minutes down the line, and was replaced by this other young guy that wasn't half as cute, but was twice as determined to make conversation.

If, of course, you can consider anything between an Algerian who speaks about 6 words of English, 30 words of French and a billion words of Italian, and me, a conversation.

I didn't. It took him almost an hour for him to get through to me that he is a house painter by trade. It took another 1/2 an hour for him to tell me that his parents and siblings were gunned down in Algeria when he was only a few years old, and then it took him another 15 minutes to ask me if I had a boyfriend or not, and if not, would I like to go for coffee.

By chance, I did have a boyfriend at that moment, because I can't imagine anything more painful than coffee with someone that I can't talk to, or what the conversation would consist of since the only thing I know about him is that he has a sad past and he smells a lot of paint fumes.

Lucca is pretty, but unfortunately, not special enough to have made the 2 hour train ride for.

There is, however, something sort of funny about walking down an ancient street of an old fortified town centre in Tuscany and hearing the strains of "Sweet Home Alabama" as someone practices on their acoustic. Not very authentic, but funny.

Got back to the hostel at about 6, had a shower and decided to have a nap.

Was just entering an R.E.M. cycle when a knock on my door woke me up. I waited for a second to see if anyone else was awake and coherent enough to get there quicker than me (all in vain since I was like six feet from the door, and my other roommates were in the loft upstairs) and figured I would suck it up and just answer the door.

There was this cute little blonde American girl standing there, and she asks if I'm Bridgit, and if so, if I'm still planning to go out tonight?

Since I'm half asleep still, I wasn't sure what she was talking about, or how she knew that I was planning to go out, so I probably swayed and stared for a minute or so to let everything process, and then remembered telling the girl at the front desk about my plans earlier in the day.

I am, if nothing else, the queen of wonderful first impressions.

Turns out it wasn't held against me. The American girl, Jackie, came in and we chatted candidly for 45 minutes or so, and then made plans to head out at about 11.

A few minutes later I had convinced my roommate from Argentina, Mary Sue, to put on her heels and to join us, and at about quarter to 11, I went to make sure Jackie was almost ready.

She wasn't, but then being that she's female and I am too, I understand, and she's forgiven.

We discovered that I am the worst tour guide in the world, since I only manage to navigate around Florence based on how far or how close I am to the Duomo or the river. With it being dark outside, I didn't really have either reference point to begin with, so we may have gone in the wrong direction for a bit, and we made it to the bar at about 11:30.

Neither of my Albanians were there (likely because I told them I would meet them at 11 if I was feeling up to it), but there was a group of much older, much uglier Albanians there that scared the crap out of Mary-Sue, so we walked her back to the hostel and then went looking for fun in Florence.

Again, it was a trial. We went in the direction of the train station, since one of the bouncers at the pub recommended it to us as a place that MIGHT be happening, but we were having a tough time finding it.

Resourceful Jackie decided to ask a newsagent where the nearest nightclub was.

"Right Here", he says, and cranks up his radio.

She dances and I try hard not to pee myself.

We were sort of being stalked by these 2 creepy guys, so we decided we'd pretend we spoke some really obscure, nonsensical language and nothing else, and came up with Icelandic because we couldn't remember Bjork ever making sense, and you rarely meet people from Iceland, so no one would know the difference. (If you are reading this and you are from Iceland, I truly am sorry)

We walked right past them as they started catcalling and following us, and talked gibberish for about 2 blocks, until I told her to stop so we could confront them.

Sure enough, as soon as we stopped they stopped, too, and tried to initiate conversation.

We looked confused and spoke back and forth, and then finally looked at them, shrugged and said, "No English".

It didn't really work, since I assume they figured we were hot enough that a language barrier was a non-issue, and they tried, but we just waved and walked away.

This guy, handing out flyers for a club of sorts, managed to convince us that it was happening place with food (Jackie hadn't had supper), so we followed him for what seemed like a millenia (especially when I was being pursued by an Italian who smelled like body odor and figured my grunting "Si" or "No" was a sign of interest) and when we finally arrived. We looked at the 6 people there, Jackie got a sandwich, I got the loo, we ate and then left.

I managed to get us horribly, horribly lost. I'm so used to cities being set up on an axis, that when I'm confronted with these confusing circular streets, well, I go in circles.

So we walked through a plaza 3 times before I discovered we were lost. Jackie pretended to have faith in my abilities, and I pretended to, as well.

It didn't work.

If I hear the words Regazza, Bellisima or Bella one more time from a guy over 40, I might end up in an Italian prison. At first I took it all in stride, but walking around in a micro mini with a pretty blonde girl at 2 in the morning means that every Italian man - be he fat, thin, young, old, pretty, ugly or pretty ugly - figured that gave him reason to catcall us last night as we wandered around lost, and pretending not to be.

We did, however find the pub again, and proceeded to discover that Iceland in Italian is "Islanda", and pretended to chatter back and forth in Icelandic with the excitement of our discovery, while also pretending not to know what a "beer" is.

There were a few cute boys there, but there was also enough undesirable interest from non-cute boys that we deemed it unworthwhile and headed back to the hostel.

I went to the Italian Giardino di Boboli this afternoon to blow a few hours, and enjoyed myself. Then I did laundry this afternoon, went and had a great dinner and now I'm debating what to do tonight.

I kind of feel like drinking a lot of red wine and dancing in the streets without shoes. I also feel like seeing a cute boy and going for a walk.

Sleep feels like a priority, too, but I'll be in Rome tomorrow night and can make it up there.

I guess we'll see where the night leads.

Florence: A city of Romance

2008-08-20T02:44:00.001-07:00

Went out shopping and seeing the sights in Florence yesterday morning, and had an all around great day.

In the heat of the afternoon I hung out in my room with a beer and The Economist until my roommate, Ania got back from her sightseeing, and then we went and grabbed supper, gelato and walked around looking for the young people.

I'm not sure why we had so much trouble finding a good place to go out, but Florence is obviously not a city catering to the young club going crowd. So we wandered around in vain for a few hours, inobtrusively following young Italians who looked like they had someplace cool to be. No luck.

At about 10:30, Ania finally decided to take me back to the little Irish pub she was at a few nights ago and the moment we walked in the door, this big, blonde, friendly looking American guy envelopes her in a bear hug like a long lost sister, and we knew we had made the right decision.

Hung out with an Italian named Giuseppe who wanted to practice his english, and checked out the local fauna, and all the other hot tourists who came to what turned out to be, a local hotspot.

It's funny that in a city the size of Florence, the hotspot is smaller than most quiet Irish pubs back home, but we had a good time, the bartenders were funny, the drinks were strong and the conversation was flowing in Italian, English, drunken Australian and gibberish.

I left Ania talking to Giuseppe and an American and started chatting up these 2 very hot Albanian boys who had been checking me out for a good hour or so, and at about 2 or so, all 4 of us headed back to our hostel.

Ania met this group of 4 American boys while she was sitting on the curb out front of our hostel saying "Ciao" to everyone who walked past, and I left her happily chatting away to them, and went for a walk with the Albanians to check out Firenze by night.

I do really like this city.

Off to see the city of Lucca this afternoon, and then plans to meet up with the Albanian boys tonight at the pub again when I should probably be sleeping.

Holidays rock.

It's a Small World, After All...

2008-08-19T01:21:00.000-07:00

It really is.

Got on the train heading to Pisa at about 1 yesterday afternoon.

Was making eyes at this one cute guy sitting behind me, but he was with a group of his buddies, so it's hard to approach someone in that situation. I mainly just listened to my MP3 player and updated my journal and map.

Coming into the first station in Pisa, I stood up to collect all my bags and to reorganize, and cute boy piped up and asked me in accented english if there was only one station in Pisa.

Never having been to Pisa, I wasn't sure, so we asked around until someone assured us that the Centrale, or Main, station in Pisa is the second stop.

They had been spying on me, and saw that I had been to Portugal, and since they were all from a small village in Northern Portugal, we started chatting about my thoughts on the country, and where I would go when I go back.

We all got off at the main station, and the 4 of us headed to the Leaning Tower to take the typical "Look Mom, I'm the only thing stopping the Tower of Pisa from becoming the Pile of Pisa" shot.

We decided to head into the shade, and as we were walking and talking I swore I heard someone call my name.

Realizing that I am, in fact, in Pisa, Italy, it seemed highly unlikely that anyone would know me, but I glanced around casually in case I recognized anyone, or saw anyone frantically waving at me, kind of like Johann was doing from his perch in the shade.

Since the last time I saw him was on the platform in Atocha Renfe, and the last email I got from him stated he was in Marseille, France, he was the last person I expected to see a week, and 2 countries later, but amazingly, there he was.

We hugged, dragged all his crap (some men are much worse overpackers than women) over to where the Portuguese boys were waiting and then caught up.

Like the Portuguese boys, he had a helluva time in France, which just made me feel a lot happier that I didn't make it to the French Riviera after all. Since I was planning to spend the weekend there, and they were all stuck there at the end of the weekend due to the large crowds who all had the same idea I did, I guess heading onto Torino, and taking a miss on Nice and Monte Carlo was really a stroke of genius.

Sent him back to Cinque Terre for the photo ops, and then the Portis and I hopped on a train heading for Florence, so they could catch their connection to Ancona (and then onto Greece) and so I could check into my hostel room before it got too late.

Got into Florence at about 7-ish, sent the Portis on their way with a quick exchange of contact details and kisses, and then found my hostel room in no time.

Checked in, chatted to the lovely Polish girl at the front desk for a bit, then met my friendly roommates, where we chatted about Cinque Terre (the South African in my room was at the same hostel in Biassa on my first night there), Florence and our travels, and then I found an internet cafe that was open late where I proceeded to spent almost 7 Euros on a phone call home to mom.

I think I'm really going to like Florence.

Cinque Terre

2008-08-18T01:53:00.000-07:00

I got to La Spezia a few days back after leaving rainy Torino behind, and made my way to the hostel I had booked in Biassa, just on the outskirts.

Biassa is this cool little village nestled up in the hill above La Spezia, with an awesome view of the townsite. It's also the kind of place that has 2 competing pizzerias and not much else.

The group of 4 Aussie girls I had arrived with and I were floored to discover that the hostel has a lock-out period from 11-3 and being that it was shortly before 2, we settled in for a long rest in the hot sun outside the hostel doors waiting to get in.

Finally got in, settled in and I went over to the closest pizzeria for a late lunch, before heading to La Spezia for some wine and fruit for breakfast.

When I got back to the hostel, 2 of the Aussies were outside with another Aussie guy from Perth who was staying at the hostel, so we cracked the bottle of wine, and got a little tipsy before deciding to try the second pizza place on for size.

The first one was much better.

We bought a bottle of cheap red from the pizzeria, went for a little walk, and then ended up on the cathedral steps where we proceeded to drink and talk about odd topics ranging from bowel movements to strap-ons, until shortly before one, where we headed back to the hostel for a good night's sleep so we could attempt the hike through the 5 villages the next day.

The next morning, I groggily turned off my alarm at shortly past 8, hopped in the shower, downed a Red Bull and a banana and then went and met the Aussie guy at the bus stop. The 2 girls weren't feeling up to it, and I can't say that I blamed them considering how crap I felt, and how much I wouldn't be able to do anything without the aid of Taurine and Guarana.

We took the bus to La Spezia, and then the train to Riomaggiore, and then onto Monterosso, the last in the 5 Cinque Terre villages, and on the train met up with a group of Aussies that were heading in the same direction.

One guy convinced us to come hang out at the beach and go for a swim before we started the hike, so we went and played beach bums for about 3 hours.

The Aussie that I came with spotted this cave across the water, so he swam over to check it out, and then came back to drag me along, which was honestly, a terrifying experience for me.

I'm a decent swimmer, but I'm also a swimmer accustomed to the still waters of lakes and pools, so having waves crash over me as I swim across dark water, with heart palpitations, sure that any moment, sharp teeth are going to crunch my pale ass legs into shrapnel, was VERY unnerving. I made it though.

We explored the cave for a bit, and then I mustered enough courage to tentatively breaststroke all the way back to shore.

After playing in the water and laying in the sun for an hour, it was all we could do to muster the enthusiasm to start the hike, but we finally did at about 3pm.

Let me warn you in advance... The villages of Cinque Terre are breathtakingly beautiful and the photo ops are numerous. It's a terrific workout, and it's an experience I won't soon forget. I could happily never see another fucking stair in my life now.

There are literally about 1000 stairs going up the mountain from Monterosso, heading towards Vernazza (the second last village).

When I hear the word hiking, I think backcountry trails, pulling yourself up sharp inclines by holding trees and roots, and trying not to trip and fall on exposed rocks. I don't think 1000+ natural rock stairs jutting far up into the blue expanse of sky.

Stairs are MUCH harder than pulling yourself up inclines using tree branches. Much.

So by the time we got to Vernazza (a little over an hour after we started), we were starving, thirsty and ready for another swim. We grabbed a pizza to share, a huge bottle of water and 2 beers, and we headed over to the marina/beach to swim.

Aussie guy saw yet ANOTHER cave, and this time I decided to do sentry duty on the bags and play with the fish in the marina, thinking I had toyed enough with my life for one day.

Probably a smart idea, since he had trouble making it through, and there was a riptide that almost threatened to pull him out to sea. If that wasn't good enough, at some point he managed to kick a sea urchin, and limped out of the water 15 minutes later with tiny little black barbs stuck in his foot.

It's times like that, that I'm happy I'm cautious.

So we limped onto Corniglia, which took about another hour and a half. Stopped for some pictures of the sunset, and then headed onto the next village, Manarola.

By this point, it was pretty dark, but by the time we reached Manarola, we knew that the Via Dell'Amore, or Lover's Walk, is an easy walk of under a half hour, so we made our way to the first village, Riomaggiore, where we promptly found an Italian restaurant for some comforting carbs and beer.

We met up with the Aussies from earlier while we were grabbing gelato, and the group of us went and sat on the rocks at the marina, and chatted while the few of us heading back into Biassa waited for our bus.

Got back to Manarola, and we proceeded to feed the Aussie guy I spent the day with copious amounts of wine, and did surgery on all the little barbs in his foot while catching up on the Georgia/Russia situation, and the Olympics via BBC news. I heart the BBC.

You may think it's a little funny that I keep referring to everyone by their Nationality instead of their name, but the truth is, I felt like such an arse after asking for names (and then promptly) forgetting them, twice, that I didn't bother to ask again.

Off to Pisa, and then Firenze.

Torino

2008-08-15T12:54:00.000-07:00

I've been hauling around this uber cool souvenir hoodie I bought in London on my 2nd day in Europe for almost 3 weeks now and doubted my wisdom every step of the way. Especially when it came to cramming everything into my (as it turns out MUCH smaller than everyone else's) pack. Space is dear to me, but I loved the shirt and it stayed.

Turns out, I might have actually been wise.. Torino/Turin, Italy is a really pretty city, but the climate currently is on par with a Northern BC spring -- rainy, windy and highs of about 15°C. Guess what I wore today?

So between the shirt with LONDON ENGLAND written across it in bright red letters and my newly acquired Maple Leaf pin (because I was a moron who thought the Canadian flag patch on the daypack I almost never wear during the day would be sufficient to warn everyone) I am now spoken to in English everywhere I go. Turns out in Italy, I might need that a little more than in Spain.

Although I seem to know about as much conversational Italian as I do Spanish after 2 weeks spent in Spain, I was optimistic about my chances of being understood (and thus treated better) in Italy.

I managed to fumble through a conversation with a gentleman at the ticket office today in pure Italian (well, and hand gesturing because I am NOT perfect), but I got a reality check when I went to the Porta Nuova station to buy my ticket to La Spezia tomorrow. I tried Italian, but when the ticket guy just smiled and started speaking in broken English, I sucked it up and stopped the authenticity. He was really nice, even drawing me a map of Cinque Terre, La Spezia and 2 other coastal towns he recommended, and I just assumed that all Italians were really nice, until he started stroking my hand, telling me I had beautiful eyes and asking if I was busy later.

He was a good looking guy, but I'm also not stupid enough to believe that his intentions are completely honorable when he asked me out after finding out that I'm a female solo Canadian traveller who knows no one in Torino.

Well, as we continued talking, and I told him thanks, but no, and arrivederci, he got more and more excited and nervous and started speaking in almost completely Italian which was very frustrating for me, because I wasn't even sure what we were talking about anymore.

I ended up just waving and saying Ciao, and hopefully I didn't offend too much, but if he's that forward with every attractive traveller that comes through his line, I don't think I'll be on his mind for much longer anyway.

I should probably stop being so candid with everyone.. even when you assume the questions are related to a professional transaction.

Anyway, off to La Spezia and Biassa, and then either tomorrow or Sunday, I plan to hike through the five villages of Cinque Terre and hang out on the beach again, because I really miss my Med.

Tonight I hung out in my room (which FYI, is a dorm room that I am solo in! SCORE!), did laundry and watched MTV because I am just that cool, and admittedly, you miss chilling out by yourself, painting your toenails and watching English TV, even if there are hot Italian men out there just ripe for the picking.

BCN

2008-08-14T02:59:00.000-07:00

I love Barcelona. The nightlife, the architecture (Barcelona was the chosen home of renowned modernist architect Antoni Gaudí), the close proximity to the Med and amazing beaches.. yes, again, this is another place I could quite happily live in despite it's noted high cost of living.

I met up with an Australian girl named Maeve my first night here and we went out for dinner and cocktails and then down La Ramblas to check out the waterfront. They ended up closing the bridge back to Las Ramblas, so we walked around, and caught a nightbus to what we assumed was the direction of our hostel.

No such luck.

At about 3 am we finally sucked it up, hailed a taxi and made it back to the hostel where I fell into bed fully clothed and deeply asleep until the next morning.

We caught the metro over to check out Casa Batlló and La Pedrera, 2 of Gaudí´s more well-known structures (besides the Sagrada Familia, of course) and then up to Park Güell and spent the morning there taking pictures and generally playing tourist and then made the decision to head off to the beach for the afternoon.

Maeve picked a beautiful beach and so we spent the afternoon playing in the water (yes, again, I braved 'shark infested waters' for a swim), sun-tanning and even getting a €5 massage from a little Asian lady in the sand. In fact, I was so relaxed that I even sort of took off my top. But not really, since I was lying face down. I'm still not that brave.

Anyway, Hedonism at it's best. That, my friends, is what is generally known as The Good Life.

We picked up some veggies and fruits for dinner and generally just had a really laid back day.

Today on the other hand has been one cock-up after another. Woke up at 6:30 to head to the train station to book my ticket to Nice. Unfortunately that train is all full, and my only option is to catch 4 connections there and to arrive at near midnight tonight. Not all that bad if you can find a reasonably priced place to stay for the next few nights.

Unfortunately, I've thought through very little of this section of the trip and didn't realize how difficult it would be to book a hostel room in the French Riviera in mid August. Near impossible, in case you were wondering.

So I debated all morning, trying to decide where I should go instead. Maybe just on to Cannes? Or all the way to Italy?

Had breakfast with Maeve and made my decision... I'll be in Torino, Italy in the morning after spending over 70 Euros on a sleeper berth on the train leaving Barcelona tonight.

I'm only planning to spend a brief period of time there, and then onto La Spezia and the 5 villages of Cinque Terre as soon as possible.

I'm the TINIEST bit disappointed that I'm missing Southern France this trip, but I assume that my good paying career working as a multi-lingual design consultant in a architectural firm in Southern Spain will allow enough flexibility and money to do it in style in a few years time, anyway, so I can't be TOO sad.

Maybe I'll even have acquired a latin lover by that time. Ooh La La.

*sigh*

Back to reality.

Barcelona

2008-08-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

I finally got out of Madrid.

Got the crappiest seat selection on the train getting to Barcelona. Normally I specifically ask for a window seat, but the guy that sold me my reservation was really cute, and mundane details like that slip my mind when I'm around cute boys.

Anyway, 3 seperate people got the window seat that I didn't ask for and so at Zaragoza, Lleida and Camp Tarragona I had to turn down my music, smile, pretend I understood Spanish (I am DEFINITELY taking Spanish lessons when I get home) and shuffle into the aisle so they could take the seat I coveted.

I ended up watching Alvin and the Chipmunks, which was on the on-train entertainment. Unlike my Madrid to Sevilla trip, this time it actually had English subtitles and so as long as I watched the TV and not the Spanish countryside whipping past at 300 Km/hr I got the gist of the movie.

I left Johann in Madrid. Actually, I left Johann standing on the platform at the Atocha Renfe metro station while the doors of the Metro train refused to open for me, and the 2 Boulder hippies just laughed about how I was fated to remain in Madrid forever.

He just shrugged and watched the train pull away while I wrestled with the door.

Bonne Chance, my South African friend!

(PS. Stop talking to yourself in Afrikaans, you silly boy.. the Scots in the dorm last night thought you were maybe a little soft in the head.)

The absolutely coolest thing about the train to Barcelona is that you're flying at this ridiculously fast land speed, and you come barrelling through a tunnel, exit, glance to your left and see whitewashed houses lining the shore of the Med and a dozen yachts floating around. Then another tunnel. Repeat.

It's such a tease, but my breath still caught a little everytime that it happened.

2 days here and then onto Nice, Cannes and Monte Carlo, Monaco. Now doesn't that sound like fun?