The City Life

Good News!!

2007-02-07T12:08:00.000-05:00

So, my devoted readers are likely long gone. Yet, I must fore-tell of a great future event. I will be getting internet at home (as a Valentines Day gift to myself) and will therefore be back on the blogging circuit. Yay!

Talk to you all again soon.

"Let's Sing a Song

2006-10-19T15:18:00.000-04:00

For Hazey Jane." II

I'm back. I remembered this morning that the joy in starting over again is that I get to take all the best parts of the past with me. I get to keep the best parts of city_girl and leave the pips behind.

"Take a little while to find your way in here... Take a little while to make your story clear."

I think I may have found my way. Or clues to that way, if nothing else. I think I may have found what I need to make this law school experience what I would like it to be. I need to study hard and play hard. I need to enjoy the Northern Lights and the crunch of snow under my boots at the beginning of October.

I have a bit of ground to make up. A few mistakes to rectify.

"And what will happen in the evening in the forest with the weasel with the teeth that bite so sharp when you're not looking in the evening."

So, I didn't realize that a weasel would have such sharp teeth, but I get to decide what will happen because of them. I get to weave that choice into part of my story...

by myself...

"And all the friends that you once knew are left behind they kept you safe and so secure amongst the books and all the records of your lifetime."

I miss you guys.

Obeying the Law is Freedom

2006-07-06T16:43:00.000-04:00

Last night I went to the Bloor Cinema in Toronto. It's one of those cute little theatres that makes me feel like life is still simple. The screen is small, the bathrooms are upstairs behind the balcony and popcorn and a drink will set you back only $5.

They were showing "Sir No Sir" about the Vietnam War deserters, particularly the G.I.s who were fighting against the war from within.

After the film there was a Q&A session with Vietnam deserters (and draft dodgers), as well as current American military deserters from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The discussion centered around the current Canadian government attitude to these men, and how it is an about face from the attitude of Trudeau during Vietnam.

The legality of Iraq and morality of war aside, I was shocked that Canada was making it so difficult for these men to seek asylum in Canada. Shocked and disappointed. I encourage those of you who still check into this blog to take a gander at the War Resisters Support Campaign (by clicking here) and consider signing their petition.

Last night was nice. It was great. It was one of those nights that I didn't want to end. Where J and I bought coffee after just to keep talking, to keep figuring things out. Frankly, it was the first time in ages that I've been turned on by anything, tuned in to anything. Thanks for a great night J!

Wanting to Rip My Heart Out

2006-05-02T18:22:00.000-04:00

This heart that betrays me. Keeps me attached when no attachment is warranted. How I wish I could control my own emotions better. *sigh*

In lighter news, I have met up w/ J (the Canadian guy I hung out with in SA -- who worked for the NM Foundation). He's back in Canada, and it is so nice to have an intellectual conversation with him.

I may start back to work on Monday. Somehow, I think I will miss being free as a bird. Well, with time, if not with money.

Hope you are all well.

Women: Go Team Go!

2006-04-05T11:57:00.000-04:00

During the last month I've realized something about women: We are NOT each others biggest cheerleaders. We just don't do it. Behind almost every "best wish" about a fellow woman's plans for growth is a hint of disdain. A thinly veiled hope for failure. (And in my case, apparently whispered (ridiculously infuriating) conversations about inappropriate driving forces for my late bloom).

Are today's women so insecure that they have to secretly wish that their friends fail? Are women so afraid of their own shortcomings that they have to embrace the short comings of other women, thus warding off growth?

I'm not asking for blind, over-the-top, smile and best-wishes for everything sentiments. Tree-hugging for women is not my goal. But come on ladies, if the goals are admirable, attainable and honest, let's root for each other!

Let's start accepting that a girlfriend finding love isn't an insult to our own single status. That a career move for one is not an indication of the inferiority of others. Let's start realizing that as one of us grows and develops, it creates more opportunities and positive space for all of us.

And lastly, let's stop treating our female friends like the envied highschool cheerleader. Let's stop talking about each other behind backs. Gossiping and making rude and preposterous assumptions without ever stopping to ask our friend for the real story.

A friend is defined as a person whom one knows, likes and trusts; a person with whom one is allied with; one who supports and sympathizes with.

With our fellow women with whom we wish to maintain friendships, let's make sure that we truly know each other. That we like and trust one another. Let's become fierce allies in the battles the world throws us and that we create for ourselves. Let's support each other in our struggles to grow and sympathize with each other when that struggle gets tough.

Let's start cheering for each other.

SAVE YOUR MONEY!!

2006-04-05T11:56:00.000-04:00

Okay Ladies,

Here it is, the end of my contract upon me, and I'm freaking out about money. How do I save money for school and the future and still live a life? Low and behold, MSN has all these articles (click here) this morning about saving on a shoe string, and how to earn a million.

Interestingly, these articles (at least the ones I've read so far) are written by women. Yet, actual financial stability is something I have rarely (if ever) talked to my girlfriends about. As women in 2006 though, I think it's important to develop our own financial strategies, and stop waiting for the white knight to swoop into our lives with a heftyy pension.

So take a look, start saving, and let's all retire together with enough money to finally be ladies who lunch!

A Zimbabwean Wedding

2006-02-16T07:03:00.000-05:00

I went to Zimbabwe this past weekend. I had a great time. I saw the sights in Victoria Falls and met lots of great people.
One person that I met was D. He was a Zimbabwean, one of the guides on my white water rafting trip. He was pleasant. Nice enough. When he asked me to go for a beer, I figured the company would be nice. We had a good chat. I picked his brain about the political situation in Zimbabwe.

When it became clear that I was footing the bill for the beer, I had to insist that he walk me home, as I wouldn't have enough for both our beers and a cab. (Vic Falls is really expensive).

On the way home, he said that the whole town would have seen him walking with a white woman, and that by the morning, they would all be talking about his foreign girlfriend.

Menh, whatever, was all I had thought. People talk a lot of sh*t, the world over. As long as he doesn't believe it.

He said that we should be pen pals, which seemed harmless and a good opportunity to ask the rest of my political questions. We exchanged addresses.

As we neared my hostel he said that if we married he would move to Canada to be with me. Then he asked to kiss me.

What the f*ck?!? Sorry. Not going to happen.

He asked that I go visit him the next morning before I go to the airport. I said I would see what I could do, and slipped through the gate and to my bed. And away from the whole mess.

I woke up in the middle of the night worried about this situation. He had obviously misunderstood me and was thinking that he actually had a foreign girlfriend. Realizing I was not going to fix the situation by worrying about it, I decided to forget the fact that he had my contact info in Joburg, and go back to sleep.

I went to visit the Falls the next morning, and then flew back to civilization (otherwise known as Johannesburg) without stopping to say goodbye. I really didn't want to deal with the situation and hoped that not stopping by would be a huge hint.

Days went by and I eventually forgot about D and the whole fiasco. Until my phone rang last night. He was calling and he wanted me to call him back. I really didn't have enough air time for a long distance call to Zimbabwe, and I had hoped that in refusing to call him back he would understand that I was 'just not that into him'.

Nope, he said to give him 10 minutes and he would call me.

Sh*t! So, I brainstormed with my housemate (who appeared a bit freaked out that this guy had her address -- which I told her he had taken from my liability waiver, which he could have had I not given it to him... ).

When the phone rang again, I wove a tale to D about my ex-boyfriend having invited me out for Valentine's day to ask me to forgive him and take him back. So, we were giving it another shot and I was moving into his house in Pretoria at that moment. I had hoped this would be enough to finish things.

"Won't you email me tomorrow?" he asked.

Jesus!!

Not sure if he had understood what I had said to him (the connection was REALLY bad), I told him I would email.

This morning I sent another email explaining about this boyfriend "Joe" and how I was terribly sorry for him getting caught in the middle of this but I really loved Joe and had to give this a try. And that I didn't think it was appropriate for me to be in contact with another man while I was working things out with Joe. Who lives in Pretoria. (Please let the Pretoria comment sink in... don't try to contact me at the house or my housemate will freak!).

Anyway, I feel like a cross between of a b*tch and an idiot now. I assume this guy was just wanting a way out of Zim, but please: I'm not the way. And how was I to know that walking with someone, or having a beer with them, or being pen pals meant that you were romantically interested in that person in Zimbabwe?!? When did an exchange of address equal an exchange of intent to marry?

Bah! That's it. I'm going to start wearing a Burqa and stop talking to men altogether!! I really hope this guy stops contacting me. I don't want to hurt his feelings. I do feel bad about the whole situation, but I really didn't think he was going to misinterpret the situation. In fact, I do remember saying (when he asked if I was seeing anyone in SA) that I wasn't interested in starting a relationship because I was returning to Canada soon.

[Ah, can hear his thought process now -- she wants to be in Canada, so I will go with her, and then we can be together.]

Yup, okay, it's official. Burqa it is. No more conversations with men. There is just no getting through to them verbally, so I will have to cut all ties!!!

This is my Canada

2006-02-02T02:21:00.000-05:00

This is what I grew up with. This is winter. Home. This is Canada. This is my Canada.

How I love these days. Waking up to a white world. Nothing moves, but the blowing snow. Families are nestled at home together. The world is quiet.

At least for the morning.

The afternoon, when the snow has stopped, neighbours greet each other as they shovel their driveways. Kids play together in the snow. The Atlantic Canada Community is built on snow.

A New Day, A New Canada?

2006-01-24T09:19:00.000-05:00

Today, everything has changed.

It started off normal enough: woke Dizzy and David at 6:30 on my way to gym, had a great workout, traffic was brutal, sat down at my desk, fired up the laptop and clicked on Internet Explorer to my homepage CBC.ca. But that's when things changed.

Apparently everything has changed.

The first thing I saw this morning was a picture of Stephen Harper giving me and the rest of Canada the thumbs up above a caption claiming Conservative Victory.

I ask you, is nothing sacred? Aren't some things supposed to be constant, like the tides and the setting of the sun? As long as I have been politically aware (by which I mean as long as I have been able to distinguish our Prime Minister from Jay Leno, which wasn't until Chretien took the reins), I've been the citizen of Canada's Liberal Wonderland. I like that.

I like being a citizen of a country that elects centrists time and again. I like that the Liberals have legalized gay marriage and are against healthcare privatisation. I like that the Liberals didn't sign Canada up to fight in Iraq. Hell, I can even like that they blew millions (billions?) of Canadian dollars in Quebec, in a misguided attempt to preserve national unity.

How can we now have a Conservative government in Canada? How can we have elected a group of men who believe in protecting only the rights of the religious right, minorities in the process?

Despite my wishes for Canada to remain the same after January 23, I will apparently return home to a new Canada. That is, if I'm allowed to return to the country at all; my current boss is considered a terrorist by the likes of Conservative Rob Anders. That could garner much suspicion at the border once the pro-Washington Conservatives accept a joint security perimeter with the Americans. Let's hope Harper is as slow to get going as he looks, and the new government won't have time to work on border control before my contract with Mandela expire

Some Things I Like About SA

2006-01-20T07:24:00.000-05:00

So, despite some of the safety concerns, there is enough going on in SA that really turns my crank to keep me coming back. Here is a list of things that I like about living here.

1. I can eat lunch at a really nice cafe for less than $5. (Think most restaurants or cafes on Danforth, Queen W or Beaches).

2. I can eat dinner at a swank restaurant for less than $15. (I tried to think of an equivalent Toronto restaurant for comparison purposes, but let's face it, I can't afford swank in Toronto so I'm at a loss...).

3. I can buy a bottle of GREAT wine for less than $4.

4. I have a maid. (Her name is Julia and she is the daughter of the maid that worked for Jack and Dizzy when I lived there. I've always liked her, so it's nice to have her around again).

a) I haven't had to do my own laundry since I moved in with Dizzy. It is so nice to come home from a vacation with a suitcase full of dirty clothes and just toss it in the hamper and forget about it. Poof! It's suddenly all back in my room, cleaned, ironed and put away in the cupboards.

b) I haven't had to do my own dishes since I moved in with Dizzy. I don't even have to bring them to the sink. I can just leave them on the coffee table and *poof* they're suddenly clean and in the cupboard.

c) I haven't had to clean my own bathroom since I moved in with Dizzy.

d) I haven't had to make my own bed since I moved in with Dizzy.

e) I haven't had to vacuum or wash the floors since I moved in with Dizzy.

(To be fair, I haven't had to do any of these things, but I still have. I find dish washing relaxing. I could never leave my dishes around for Julia to pick up. I sometimes want an item of clothing cleaned before Julia is coming in. Etc. Etc. But when it's all said and done, it is so worth paying for these services, especially when the daily charge is about the same as a swank restaurant dinner.).

5. There's a second economy. By this I mean, there's always some 'entrepreneur' who will provide a service or sell an item at a SEVERELY reduced rate. For example, I lost a hub cap while on vacation. I could go into Toyota and buy one, but instead I will go to Soweto and buy one from a stall on the side of the road at a much cheaper price. Often, one doesn't even have to go anywhere to find a second economy alternative. Every street corner has someone selling something.

The street corner outside my office for example: Oxford Rd. and Eastwald Way. This is a VERY nice neighbourhood, but on my corner there are people selling fruit, newspapers, homeless talk, and purses or sunglasses every day.

6. 99% of the time, the sun is shining, it's a perfect humidity (as in next to no humidity) and the sky is blue.

7. People will flash their hazard lights to say 'thank you' when you let them in in traffic or you move onto the shoulder to let them pass (on two lane highways).

8. People drive in the emergency lane of the highway when the traffic is blocked up, yet, no one will make a left hand turn (equivalent to our right hand turn) at a red light b/c it's against the rules. (Okay, this is one of those baffling South African contradictions that I find interesting, more than like, but it's got to get into my blog somehow).

9. 80% of cars (give or take, I roughly counted while on vacation) will flash their headlights to you to warn of an upcoming traffic cop.

10. The maid at the office brings the tea, roiboos and coffee from the kitchen to our department floor three times a day: 9am, 11am and 3pm. This comes complete with hot milk, white and brown sugar. It makes me smile every time she does it, so I end up grinning at her like a child, but she grins right back. She also knows which mug belongs to who, so if I am out of the office she leaves my mug in the kitchen, or if I'm having a meeting downstairs, she will bring my coffee to me in the board room.

11. The country has a fascinating geography for such a small place (driving one side to the other is about 12 hours) semi-desert, dessert, tropical forests, coastal/ocean, mountain, bushveld (typical african savanna).

12. The security guards at the office and at the house (it's a housing cluster, kind of like a gated community w/ guards at the gate and milling around the cluster) laugh at me when I smile and wave at them. But then they smile and wave right back. It feels so... friendly and warm.

13. News Cafe. I've been going to the one in Rivonia since I was a student here. It was the only one in SA then, but it is now a chain. It's got great coffee (anything you would find at starbucks), juice, beer/wine/spirits, great food and every newspaper you would ever want to read is brought in every day. It's more edgy and sophisticated than a Second Cup or Starbucks. I would love to open one on the Danforth.

14. The owners/managers of News Cafe. They all know me by name and know what I order. It's pleasant and efficient. :)

Alright, that's all I've got for now. I"m sure I will add on later. And then I will edit it and post it on the blog that is read by the people who employ me (and those that gave me life). I can't let people think that I've become completely pampered by my maid, and spend all of my time eating out in restaurants and shopping on street corners!

Blood Donations Continued

2006-01-17T08:44:00.000-05:00

Continued from previous post.

So, what the fuck? Apparently, when the SA Blood Donor Services (SABDS) said this was an international standard, they were right. The Canadian Blood Services does not accept blood from any man who has had sex w/ another man at any time since 1977. ?!?

In 2006, how can this still happen. Blanket discrimination against gay men does not account for behaviour. A gay man who practices safe sex would have a lower rate of infection than a heterosexual female who does not practice safe sex, no? And if the higher risk of transmission from anal sex is the issue, well, welcome to heterosexual sex in 2006 -- two practices are highly popular with heterosexual men: threesomes and anal sex.

And statistically, I'm keen to discover what the gay male infection rate is versus the female 20-35 category in South Africa (which is hovering around 35% here).

Assuming that gay male stats are near that female stat, why then do we discriminate against gay men and not women of a certain age? I assume that to cut all females b/t the ages of 20 and 35 out of the donor pool would remove more donors than removing gay males.

Bah, anyway, I find this frustrating and infinitely fascinating. I was just talking to Saki about all of this (he's our health specialist and quite a nice guy if I do say so myself). He's going to look into the gay male stats for me so we can do a comparison of other high risk groups. I'll keep you posted on what we find. According to a Mail and Guardian report, there aren't any statistics on gay rates in SA though. Check out the article here.

SA Blood Donor Services: No Gays Need Donate

2006-01-13T08:24:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, the South African Broadcasting System reported that the South African National Blood Service (SANBS) does not allow blood donations from gay males who have had sex with another male in the last five years (see article here). The head of the SANBS, Dr. Robert Cookes, is quoted saying "A man who has had sex with another man within the last five years, whether oral or anal sex, with or without a condom... is not permitted to donate blood and must please not do so."

Two years ago it was revealed that blood donations from black or coloured donors were incinerated or otherwise destroyed by the SANBS because black and coloured blood was considered to have too great a risk of HIV/AIDs. (See article here).

It's Getting Better All the Time

2005-12-12T02:26:00.000-05:00

So, the move has done wonders. I feel MUCH better about life in general since the move. I feel liberated at Dizzy's. The house of doom and gloom was really weighing on me. Everything has picked up since the move: work, social life, my dedication to the gym ;)

Anyway, just wanted to let you know that I'm doing much better than I was at the time of my last post.

Many thanks to Lee for making me see that moving out was the only option.

This Time Around

2005-11-30T09:13:00.000-05:00

This time around, it has been difficult.

Today, I miss a lot from home. I miss having my own life and being in control of it. I miss going to Jen's for dinner or to the gym with Krista. I miss my green couch. I miss meeting Bob and Harumi for Sunday morning coffee. I miss being able to visit my family. I miss Aidan. I miss music and walking in the snow and those five rooms that were my home for two years. I miss messenging w/ Jenn. I miss wine on the balcony with Jane and lunch at Jack's with Tash. I miss Toronto.

I miss being in a place where I am accepted for who I am.

I went to the Sangoma on Saturday (Sangoma's are frequently called witch doctors). She told me that I don't know what's going on, what's happening around me. She told me that certain people here are talking about me too much b/c they don't like that I am quiet.

But she also told me that my maternal Granfather is praying for me. He is praying that I will be strong. She said that he is so happy when he gets to talk to me on the phone or when I send him a letter. She told me he is very proud of me. My God, I miss Papa so much.

Though I may not feel happy, I'm still so happy to be here, to be able to do the work that I've craved for so long. I didn't realize how much I would miss my Toronto life though. I also didn't realize how much of my Toronto self I would have to give up to come back to Jo'burg. It's not a city where one can be independent, and my host-family works as a group, not as individuals. Over the last few weeks, I've been trying to assert my independence where I can. I've started cooking my own meals, meeting my friends in the evenings and on the weekends, and travelling w/ other interns when I can. It helps, but I think it will definitely be another three months before I will be able to be myself again.

And I hope that you guys will welcome me back when I return.

In a Moment

2005-10-27T15:29:00.000-04:00

I believe that the choice I have made to move and travel are similar to buying new shoes. I may love the way they look in the store, but when I bring them home and put them on, they often give me blisters or are painful. While I've wanted every move I've made since I was 12, they have each caused me pain in some way. Whether to the farm for the summer, 1/2 way across Canada to live, or to South Africa, I've always had a bit of breaking in to do.

This trip is no different. I'm now beginning to feel like everything is okay, and that the shoe is fitting.

But my old shoes don't fit so well. Not surprising, b/c it's been more than 2 months since I've worn them.

I was emailing with the lawyer yesterday. Approaching our relationship as I would South Africa. Questioning things, analyzing the way it worked, looking at it from the extremes.

But now I feel like I may have broken things.

I don't know, maybe it doesn't matter. With what I've seen and heard here, I'm proud of myself for living through each day. So to make it back home seems like a feat in itself. Maybe I shouldn't be so concerned with one man that I met for a moment.

Rant and Ramble

2005-10-11T15:07:00.001-04:00

I've had a tad too much to drink. There is much wine in this country, and I tend to drink much of the dry white variety with dinner.

Today, I was in Witbank again. Well, not Witbank itself, but a township outside of Witbank. Townships were black only areas from the apartheid era, generally on the outskirts of a white area for ecnomic/working purposes. They are often squatter type settlements, or shanty towns. The majority of my work takes place in townships.

The last two days I was at PSA S.A. I'm working closely with F, an M and E specialist (Monitoring and Evaluation). While I know that M & E is not the area that I want to go into, I am eager to learn what F has to teach me, and know that this sort of knowledge will help me to better assess development programs in the future.

The programs that I'm working with (which we refer to as projects) are dealing with OVC in South Africa. OVC (orphans and vulnerable children) remain in households in SA and are not institutionalized. It is believed by my organization in particular, but by many South Africans in general, that the family structure must be maintained. The belief is that moving OVC into institutions destroys the social fabric of society as children are not taught the ways of their parents. I daresay these beliefs could be correct.

One thing that I find so interesting about being out in the townships is the food. I am fed WELL in the townships. My weight is up and it is starting to stress me out!! (I'm not paid enough to buy many clothes!!). Tea is served at about 10:30/11:00. Tea includes coffee, tea, and sandwhiches or scones. Of course, I eat what is put in front of me. Not only out of a lack of self-control when it comes to food, but also out of respect. I am often watched here to see how I will react to things, to see if I will accept the ways of the people, and I find it important to do so.

Lunch, served at 1pm, poses its own problems. Like many African cultures, many South African blacks eat mealie meal/pap/samp with their meals. This is a ground corn meal, that is cooked like a porridge. It has little nutritional value, yet, it contributes to the weight issue (being the overweight issue) in rural South Africa. The body doesn't know how to deal with this mealie meal, so it stores it as fat. Today's lunch, while unbareably delicious as a curried type beef/veggie stew, included about 4 cups of mealie meal. 4 CUPS OF MEALIE MEAL. I wouldn't eat four cups of rice, let alone mealie meal!! I politely told one of the ladies in the kitchen that I would never be able to eat that much mealie meal, so she said to give her half. 2 CUPS OF MEALIE MEAL and I ate every bite. Such traditional food causes much supervision (as people are curious to see if this white Canadian will eat their traditional foods), so I feel obliged to eat it out of respect.

It is delicious, and I am grateful that the people I am visiting are feeding me (it is SO kind of them, saves me money, is a sign of love, etc.), but I can't help but miss the control I used to excercise over my own diet (and the size four pants I can no longer fit into!!).

Hahah!! Please don't take this the wrong way. I realize I shouldn't complain about such abundant generosity (and this is why I eat what is given me), but I REALLY would like to leave the country the size I was when I arrived, and not 12 sizes larger!! :)

In other news, I'm feeling good. It is nice to have a purpose here, to know what I will be doing for the next few weeks. I'm applying to law schools, though I need to spend more time on that aspect... . I am also planning on seeing friends more. I think it's important that I get out more.

But, I've rambled on enough. It is almost 9:30, and seeing as the alarm rings very early here (so I can go to the gym to try to work off some of the mealie meal I'm force fed), I must be getting to bed.

I realize I don't write enough. I feel bad about this. Not only for a lack of communication with loved ones, but also for the simple fact that I need to keep a record of what I'm working on here. I need a day to day journal, so that I will remember events when I am old and gray.

Ramble Ramble Ramble.

I hope this finds you well. I lift my glass of white wine to all of you :)

Rant and Ramble

2005-10-11T15:07:00.000-04:00

Thanksgiving in South Africa

2005-10-09T21:26:00.000-04:00

I've always viewed Thanksgiving as a religious holiday. A day to give thanks for what I have. In Canada, I'm always reminded on Thanksgiving of how lucky I am to have such a lovely family with whom to spend the holiday.

In South Africa, I was reminded on Thanksgiving of how lucky I am to have my life.

I went to a very chic mall today to watch the Merchante of Venice. Upon leaving the theatre, there was a commotion. People were running and shouting. We waited for calm and then went up to the restaurants. On the way, we learned that the Pick'n Pay grocery store had been robbed by armed men.

We went and ate a lovely meal anyway.

Upon leaving the mall we drove by what the robbers had left in their wake. A dead body. A man. His legs and feet lay so still, like he was sleeping with his shoes on. There was a pool of blood around him.

Such a bizarre place, this. Contradictions everywhere. Death all the time.

So, I am thankful, first and foremost, for my life:

1. My life
2. The opportunity to advance my career by working with NMCF
3. My family. Though they are far away, they are so truly lovely. My parents have allowed me my independence, have taught me to be practical, and always loved me dearly. My aunts, uncles, grandparents: they too love me. They read my blog and send me little notes. I couldn't have a better family.
4. The luxuries of the first world. I may not be from the upper crust, but I have so much. A computer to write on, the luxury of buying clothes, the ability to go out for a meal now and again.

*sigh*

I cannot write on the south african blog about what happened today. It is the sort of thing that makes people worry. But yet, how can they truly understand what goes on here if it is sheltered. How can they understand these people who simply move around a body, if I am unable to tell them of the body?

To bed, I think that is the only solution!!

2005-10-03T09:19:00.000-04:00

I've been feeling smoothered lately, and decided this morning that I needed to go out more. The perfect solution, I decided, was to date. Dating means that I can go out without spending any money (it's *that* kind of society, and who am I to argue), and be under no obligation to invite my host brother and sister.

Of course, this would be the day that I get hit on at the mall. Yes, I was asked out by a man who called me Cinderella. A man wearing sweatpants. Named Otto.

And I said yes.

After telling myself that dating would be the perfect solution, I couldn't say no. *sigh*

To the Gods of Rock'n Roll

2005-09-13T15:18:00.000-04:00

My sincerest apologies for defiling the radio by listening to Destiny's Child this afternoon. In my
defense, I simply had no choice. The radio here is simply atrocious. It was Destiny's Child or
listening to the DJ on Five FM discuss his inability to keep a secret. Truly, were you to really know, there isn't much music on the radio here. There is 40 minutes of talk to every 20 minutes of music. I'm not exaggerating. The music they do play is repeated over and over again. Which has allowed me to figure out Avril Lavigne's popularity; South African radio has one of her songs and they play it over and over and over again.

I suppose I could always listen to the Afrikaner Christian sermon on channel 2...

In other news, I think I have typhoid. Well, not really, but I've definitely caught some bug. And there is a typhoid outbreak... So I figure I might as well go for the dramatic.

2005-09-11T06:22:00.000-04:00

With few street lights off the main roads, and the reflective paint arrows and lines on the roads covered in that lovely red African dust, it is a tad of a terror driving at night without knowing ones route. Add to this the high number of people walking on the roads (there are very few, if any, sidewalks in South Africa) and I've become convinced that I'm going to hit someone with my car before my six months are up. This sounds bizarre, but really, these people aren't wearing relfective tape, they don't have the newest Nikes with reflective strips on them, they basically blend into the black night. There aren't any street lights to illuminate pedestrians as they walk on the sides of very narrow roads. If I go into hiding, it's because I've killed someone with my car and am afraid of being put in a South African prison.

Interestingly, I did hit a bird with my car. It just kind of fell from the sky. No! Really, it did. It did a spiral downfall into the front of my car. Thunk! was the last I heard before my insane nervous giggle died away. I couldn't tell my host family. They would have made me go back in the dark to make sure 'the poor baby' was okay. Jesus!!

Anyway, my writing has been scant. In all honesty, I've joined a gym to combat the large quantities of food I've been eating, so my nights aren't as free as they once were. I do have some pieces in the works though, so stay tuned!

Yawn

2005-09-04T15:12:00.000-04:00

I'm exhausted. Yesterday was hectic. I had a birthday brunch for Shirley, Richard's ex-girlfriend, which lasted well into the afternoon. In the evening, I had a ari-ya party (moving to Israel party) for one of Jane's friends which lasted well into the morning.

I love the different scenarios and characters I meet here in RSA, but it can get tiring. Having to chat endlessly with strangers can be draining.

While I would love to sleep, the rest of this afternoon, I'm going to go take a look at the local gym, and then meet Vuyo and some highschool friends for coffee. And tomorrow, it's back to work.

Yawn

2005-09-04T09:12:00.000-04:00

It Begins Again

2005-08-26T21:02:00.000-04:00

Funny, I didn't realize that it is just as difficult to adjust to the heaviness of life in South Africa as it is to return to the ease of life in Canada. I spent a good day feeling a bit anxious about being back in Joburg. After a good sleep (I slept until half past noon today!!) I'm feeling much better about things. Once my car is arranged tomorrow, I'm certain that I will feel even better; it will be nice to have my freedom!

Since my arrival, I have managed to unpack, visit the health food shop to pick up some supplements, and become thoroughly pissed off by the Standard Bank! Bloody crooks!! They closed my account, and after making me wait an hour to talk to someone, explained that I will need to fill out a form to have my money returned to me, but they don't have a copy of the form. Jeeze! When I left the bank, I was ready to tear a strip off of anyone who dared cross me!

Bah! I managed to calm down, and spent a plesant afternoon with Patty. We caught up on our goings on over the last few years. And I managed to through in a load of laundry. It's hanging on the line as I write this, and I can't help but worry that it will be nicked out of our yard!

In all, it's nice to be back. I will be glad to start work on Monday and start feeling like a contributing member of society. Tomorrow I'm watching the rugby test with some members of my hosting Rotary club before dealing with the car.

I best fetch my laundry and head back to bed.

Let's Go Already!

2005-08-22T16:30:00.000-04:00

I'm getting anxious. I just need to get the hell out of Toronto. It's been enough already.

I've been 'running errands' today. A lot of it has been completely useless activity that merely serves as a time filler. I would love to be doing an LSAT practice exam right now, but unfortunately, I can't seem to bring myself to ignore my mother for 2 and a half hours. Escaping to check my email is as good as it gets.

Yep, Mom is in town. She wanted to be useful, and I could honestly use the distraction. We're staying at a downtown hotel together. I got in a good swim this morning, and I think I will go back for another tonight. Tomorrow, my Dad and little bro are fetching me at about 10, and we'll head off to the airport. I'm hoping to talk them into waiting until about 10:45. I can't stand just sitting around the airport. What a waste of time!!

I had a great dinner with T last night. I could have stayed all night, chatting and eating great food, but the knowledge that my mother was waiting began to nag at me, so we had to leave. Either way, it was nice to know that I have such a caring friend. She didn't bat an eyelash when she arrived to pick me up and I had 3 gigantic suitcases waiting with me! Ha!!

Well, I'm going back to the incessant verification of my email account. Mr. S might have written. ;-)

*sigh*

(too lazy to spell check)

The End is Near: Random Thoughts

2005-08-11T22:02:00.000-04:00

1. Before things can begin, they must end. I know the end of my Toronto adventure is near simply because I know my home internet access will expire in exactly 2 hours. And Jana wept.

2. Tonight, I used all of the products that I can't take with me, in large quantities. I am buffed and polished and sqeaky clean. *ah*

3. It is fucking scary to have so much responsibility. This is my situation, to make of what I want, and it is going to take all of my energy to make this everything I can possibly imagining. Here I FUCKING come world!!

What University Clique Do You Belong To?

2005-08-10T22:16:00.000-04:00

As seen on Jenn's blog, I just did a quiz. It was supposed to be what high school clique do you belong to, but I answered w/ university in mind.

Try it. It's a great way to relax. Eat a freezie or two while you do it; I promise you'll enjoy it!

Anyway, my results are mildly surprising. At least that some cliques scored so low! Like Geek/Nerd! And, FYI, I was a geek/nerd all by my loner-ish self. ;)

(FYI, I can't take a test seriously when the conjunction for 'you are' is spelled 'your'.)

You scored as Prep.
Your a prep. I am so sorry.

Prep:54%
Loner:53%
Geek/Nerd:47%
Hot:40%
Jock:40%
Punk:33%
Emo Kid:33%
Stoner:20%
Goth:7%
"Ghetto":0%

What's Emo Kid??

El Testigo Silencioso

2005-08-04T21:29:00.000-04:00

While I can't make out all of what Michelle is saying here in her 8/4/2005 post, the picture is definitely worth looking at!

Happy Happy Joy Joy

2005-08-03T12:26:00.000-04:00

Secret Society of Happy People. It exists. Really!

Their webiste says:

The Secret Society of Happy People was formed in August 1998 to encourage the expression happiness and discourage parade raining. (Parade-rainers are those people who don't want to hear your happy news).

Hahah! I just had to pass on this delightful piece of news to make your day a little happier!

These Things First

2005-07-31T14:48:00.000-04:00

I have been writing. A lot. The bulk of it seems to personal to publish.

Today, I've had to put some of my personal info on paper though. I filled out my VISA applications for South Africa (henceforth RSA). The most striking question/answer on RSA's VISA application was occupation. For the first time I wrote something that I was completely proud of. I wasn't an auditor or a student, I didn't write telecommunications industry. It was "International Development Intern". :D

That said, I'm so glad that I was those other things first. I'm so relieved that I have a varied perspective on life. I was at an inter-cultural training session this past week. I felt... old. I couldn't relate to my peers b/c there was a shared desire among them to put everyone into a box and label accordingly. (Yes, I see the laugh in me labeling my peers in the same way). A large proportion of them have also had a high number of international development positions in the past. Yet, they seemed unaware of the larger Canadian reality. Of 9-5 and raising a family and paying taxes. I felt very much a part from them.

And so it begins. My journey in International Development.

On the Nelson Mandela Children's Fund (Canada) front (henceforth NMCFCan), I've been enjoying reading "Canada's International Policy Statement: A Role of Pride and Influence in the World: Development". I'm particularly interested in Canada's desire to focus on failed and fragile states. This is the area I would most like to explore for potential careers upon my return to NMCFCan. Part of M's mandate as CEO of a CIDA intern, is that he will help me find employment in my field when I return. I'm hoping that he will have connections in this arena. Just to make sure, I'm going to explain to him my interests in working w/ failed and fragile states, so that he will be aware and be able to do some prep work while I'm away.

I'm also still planning on writing the LSATs (much to my parents' dismay), and am very keen in the McGill program, and to a lesser extent U Ottawa (though, I'd rather not share a city w/ the witch of the west -- sharing a car w/ her will be enough today -- though nothing a little Sal and the Ipod can't alleviate...).

Miss you guys!

After the Tears

2005-07-26T21:27:00.000-04:00

I couldn't have worked in my field that last 2 years, b/c working in my field is far too emotion-evoking for me. I couldn't hadle that much emotion in my life then. It's only now that I'm ready to accept the bad with the good.

Called J tonight. Terrified of getting caught in the trap of running. Terrified of being responsible for my parents in South Africa. Fucking isolated in the metaphoric airport lounge somewhere between here and there.

I feel better. Having Jenn listen just helps. Getting the feelings out of me, and having someone check in on them is a comfort. But I worry that it must be draining to see the raw emotion come out of me. I know the way that emotion made the Halford's panic and know that it can't be a pretty sight. I assume that J will tell me it's too much though. Correct?

Character Building

2005-07-18T22:38:00.000-04:00

"I don't think anorexics wear big clothes to "hide themselves under them" as the experts like to say. I think it's just too damn expensive to have to buy smaller clothes all the time!"

BTW, Crystal Light Orange Tangerine is great. And fuck, yes, I will get cancer from drinking this shit, but I'm destined to get throat and tongue cancer anyway, and if we live long enough we're all getting it. So shut up and drink your fucking aspartame!! ;-)

Hold on to Your Hope my Friend

2005-07-17T20:18:00.000-04:00

Is this the spring-time of my life? Or maybe a spring-time of my life?

Sleeping with Harry Potter

2005-07-11T20:52:00.000-04:00

I slept with Harry Potter last night. I crawled into bed with the fourth book, and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm one day down in the count to the release of book 6. I best get reading!!

I'm excited for Saturday, 12 am, and desperate to have S here. When the fifth book was released, we went to Chapters at midnight with all of the children who were in costume and excited. We walked back to my Huron apartment where we curled on the couch reading for hours. When we finally slept, awake couldn't come soon enough. We were quickly back up and at Tim Horton's for a coffee and another hour of reading. By Sunday night, we were together again, dissecting the novel, the characters and the very epic itself.

This year, I want to go to the Slytherin House Party. S, were you here, it would be a date for sure! As it is, I'm mentally reviewing my friends to see who would be best suited to this adventure. Does J's daughter read the books? Could I enjoy myself taking the neighbour's children? Does SB love Harry as much as I do?

That this is my biggest concern tonight is lovely. I had a great dinner with N and GC after work tonight (thanks guys!). I'm only mildly concerned with my love life, my job situation is great and my medication dilemma is on my mind, but only in the slightest. As things stand, I'm quite content that life will work out despite its current lack of perfection and that I only need concern myself with who to take on Friday night.

So, if you're in Toronto and eager for the book, let me know, and we'll make a plan for Friday.

The Country Life

2005-07-10T22:49:00.000-04:00

It was time. I hadn't visited with my relatives since Christmas, so it was time to take the show to Ridgetown and Blenheim.

First was the S family at Uncle G and Aunt KA's. We had burgers and salad and cake. There were so many children. Some I knew existed, others that were a total surprise. They needed "hello my name is" stickers.

It was difficult to say goodbye. Part of the difficulty with visiting family is opening myself up to these people whom I deeply love yet I cannot live near by enough to maintain a relationship with. Seeing them lets them in a bit more, so it's harder when I live at a time like this, knowing that I won't be back for another 7 months.

Part of the difficulty are all the ghosts there.

Today, I went to the beach with D. We soaked up some sun and swam in the lake. It was pleasant. I quite enjoy my cousin and it's fun to hang out with her. It feels like a bond from highschool. A bond of the purest sort.

She's wanting to come to Toronto with C before I go. I hope they do. We could have such fun together in the city. I think they could both enjoy a night out at the club and also a night in with a great mix of my friends. They could enjoy a trip away from their Country Life. I'm sure they will love it as much as I enjoy leaving the City Life...

Ah, well, that was my weekend away. Tonight, I'm starting to re-read the Harry Potter series in preparation for the 16th!! Eeee!

Love for One, Please

2005-07-09T14:00:00.000-04:00

We were meant to love only one because loving two causes pain. Whether two men or two cities or two flavours of ice cream, we can't be happy in love unless we love only one, b/c you can't ever have two at the same time.

I'm looking forward to finally tearing myself away from the city. I'm going to Ridgetown/Blenheim. A bbq with Dad's side of the family this afternoon. Tomorrow, I've asked my cousins Dana and Christine to the beach. I think the three of us could have a great time.

In all, I've decided to just be relaxed about this trip. I can't be in Toronto this weekend, and it sucks that I can't see B and H, and that I can't go to the beach here, but I'll be happy with what I have.

And I'm just downright excited now!

Midnight Pumpkins

2005-07-08T09:50:00.000-04:00

It's one of those mornings where I have too much going on in my head. It began Monday:

At 9am I went into N's office (the big boss man). He had been asking me last month if I would trade cell phones w/ him b/c my model gets better reception. At the time, I had declined. On this Monday morning, I asked if he was still interested.

"If you can wait 2 weeks, you can have my phone," I told him as I slid a piece of paper across his desk to him.

"What is this all about?" he asked, obviously pissed off at seeing my letter of resignation.

That's when I broke into the smile that has been on my face ever since.

"I've been offered an internship with Nelson Mandela Children's Fund. I will be working on an AIDS initiative for young children. I will begin the post here in Toronto for one month, and then spend 6 month working out of the Johannesburg offices."

"I don't know what to say about this. I have never seen you this happy before."

Ain't that the truth. I'm so happy. I talked to Newton about the experience for 20 minutes or so. I was beaming the whole time. When it came down to it, I think he was happy for me. He knows this is what I want for my life, and while it is a pain for him to have to hire someone new when I'm at the top of my game here, it's definitely the best step for my life right now.

The rest of my Monday was exhausting. Everyone was so excited for me. GC was great (I had to tell him the second I left Newton's office; he had been charting my progress on career moves for some time now). B, the VP, went onto NMCF's website and made a donation. She's very excited. N cried and said she would miss me; "you're like one of my daughters". Everyone who knows me well, knows this is perfect. They're pleased.

I emailed G soon after the excitement died down, and he was great too. *sigh*

*****

Wednesday:

I left the office a tad early, and went for a check up. The woman I've been dealing w/ is brilliant. Just like she had the week before, she made me feel that having minor health issues wasn't so bad. And in light of the job I'm going to take, I know she's right. There are worse things than what I have to deal with.

I had worn these new-ish brown pants I had bought from the Gap. I love these pants. But they were obviously too big for me. Being close to the Eaton's Centre, I figured I might as well nip in to the 2 Gap stores there and see if they had them in a size smaller (a size 4, if you can believe it!!). First, I called G to see if I could meet him for a coffee when I was done shopping. As
I'm beginning to think is usual for him, he was great about it. He said to call when I finished my pant hunt.

After finding no size 4 brown pants at either Gap, I walked through to the fountain in the middle of the mall to call G. As his phone was ringing, I ran into A from my University days. It was just lovely to see A again. He is someone who had made me feel so comfortable. Always comfortable. He was a genuinely good person, and it was nice to have 15 minutes to talk to him.

A and I were still chatting when G arrived. I introduced the two of them, and A left. G and I walked in the other direction. Using his talents for talking, he put me at ease immediately by disusing an articling student from his office who was taking a position in South Africa w/ Nelson Mandela Foundation (or possibly NMCF). We went to that Irish pub on the West side of the Eaton's Centre, chatting the entire way.

We shared a few beers and some great conversation. Nervous as I was, I was unable to eat.
Things were great though. I gave him my bad news, which he handled very well (he is an adult after all). We discussed South Africa and law school and our pasts and futures. It was lovely.
When we left, he said that we will have to go for dinner again before I leave. I think I sounded less than enthused. I think I was less than enthused when he suggested it.

Now, thinking about who he is and the way he treats me, I think it's just an awesome idea. I don't expect anything from this man, but I do like having him in my life.

*****

Thursday:

Knowing that I'm not going to have very many moments to myself as my departure date nears, I spent the night in. I cooked a decent meal, watched Sex and the City, and gave myself a pedicure. It was perfect.

*****

Friday:

Tonight, I am meeting the girls at Shmooze and later going to Matador (the after hours bar). The Cinderella in me is a bit nervous about the late night, but I think I want to drink in every moment that Toronto has to offer right now. I will suffer through the pumpkin stage.

The Religion of Sunday Morning Coffee

2005-07-03T16:39:00.000-04:00

I've been a bit teary-eyed all day. Maybe it was just too much sun and sal at Live 8 yesterday.

Though, if the truth be told, I think I'm just very happy. Things are beginning to begin. Life is full of promise. I have a specific task at hand, and I know I can do it. Years of work are coming to a peak.

Today, I just reveled in it. The religion of Sunday morning coffee was alive and well; I met B and H at about 11. Our conversations were often intense, largely focused on Africa and (as always) stimulating. I know I am lucky to have them both in my life.

I went for an avocado salad at Mocha Mocha. Delish. I read the paper and enjoyed the shade. Leaving, I picked up a reed mat and an iced coffee and trekked to the park. There, I wrote emails in my journal (I'll type them out later), and chatted to my family on the phone. I tried working on my tan as well, but I fear that I'm just getting darker arms and cheeks while the rest of me remains white.

Groceries were bought (lots of salad and hummos and avo) and I crashed on the couch for an afternoon nap.

It was one of those perfect Sundays on the Danforth.

Now, I have my strawberries soaking in the sink, the Beatles playing on the stereo, and a pile of ironing awaiting me for this evening. And I have a sense of purpose far greater than myself or this time.

*tear*

Live 8 Was Great

2005-07-02T23:39:00.000-04:00

It was powerful. I want to remember the documentary of the two little boys who were caring for their ill father. I need to keep that image in the forefront of my mind as I tackle my upcoming endeavors (to be blogged Monday).

At one point, K looked at me and said, "you look like you're in love." I suppose I was. It was a lovely day. The sun, the music, the totally supportive and positive people. It's exactly what I needed. And more than anything I could ever have wanted.

Live 8 Live

2005-07-01T21:14:00.000-04:00

Well, tomorrow is the big day. After complaining for months that no good bands were playing Toronto this summer, we have a great line-up for tomorrow's Live 8. (To be fair, Toronto still doesn't actually have any good bands playing; Live 8 is in Barrie of all places!).

So, bright and early, I will meet K at the subway station and we will start our trek to Barrie. I don't really mind, but honestly, what a silly move. Just do it in Toronto already!!

Alas, I will take the bus north in order to see (among others) The Hip, Blue Rodeo, Great Big Sea, Sam Roberts, Gordon Lightfoot and Neil Young. I'm excited. Sal/Zoe's present are ready to go, I've got my bikini top packed (it is the summer of sun, after all) and a list of transportation options.

So, wish me luck, and keep your fingers crossed that I get in early enough tonight to be functioning tomorrow!!

Nick Drake is as Haunting as People Say

2005-06-25T22:25:00.000-04:00

I'm listening to Nick Drake and stretching all of the parts of my body that are sore from dancing and running.

Tonight is one of those nights where I'm finally getting to do what I've "always" wanted to do. Whether that "always" started last night or 6 years ago, it feels good to cross things off my list.

Nick Drake: I've wanted to know for the last 4 years about Nick Drake. I had listened to a bit of his music, heard him discussed in passing, and knew that he generally fit into the music and era that I love. Everything I've heard and read about him describes him as haunting. As I sit in the warm June evening, with the sounds of the train charging across the city floating in the background, it is haunting. The very notion of the man is haunting, and his vocals atop such intricate and beautiful guitar are mesmerizing and melancholic.

Stretching: I ran this week. Instead of the gym and at Wonderland (playing the amazing race on a team-building outing) wearing flip flops. I need to stretch out the kinks. It feels amazing! I think I will awake early tomorrow and get a good yoga session in before the sun heats the city.

The sun: I enjoyed the sun today. For one of the first time since the move from Moncton to Elmira, I've enjoyed being in the sun this summer. Being sweaty and hot. I walked to the beach w/ Krista today where we lied in the sun for hours, eating strawberries and chatting. It was a perfect afternoon.

Being Home: I was a bit worried this afternoon when I left Krista that I would feel uneasy being at home. I haven't been home alone for such a long time that I thought I might be upset or anxious alone. I wasn't. I remembered instantly why I love being by myself. Why I craved it so desperately in high school and sought it in University. Tonight has been a wonderful end to today.

Bat-Shit Crazy

2005-06-21T09:07:00.000-04:00

From Jenn's blog http://j_spot.blogspot.com :

"It's Spring! Two of my friends have entered into passionate love affairs. It's very exciting to watch from a distance! It nevertheless reaffirms my belief that women are bat-shit crazy - myself included - when it comes to relationships. We have no confidence. We are women, they are men. Advantage: us. Really, it's that simple. Seriously. Relax."

I find this infinitely funny. It's true. I am bat-shit crazy when it comes to relationships. I can go from hot to cold in one email or less. I'm preoccupied and stressed and blissful all at the same time. *sigh* It's lovely.

I'm Not That Trusting

2005-06-17T22:51:00.000-04:00

On my first night w/ G, he sent several text messages. "My mother," he'd said. Of course, I had assumed that it was another woman.

Well, it was. It was D, the woman who had set us up.

I was at a bbq tonight for K's graduation. D told me how G had texted her a couple of times on that first night to say that I was with him and everything was okay.

*sigh*

The Best Summers of My Life

2005-06-16T22:21:00.000-04:00

G and I were at Hemmingway's last night. It was the perfect place to be. It was great to talk and laugh and to simply get to know him.

The topic of 'summer-time' was brought up on several occasions. I asked him which was the best summer of his life. He said he had too many and couldn't decide.

I recalled my 17th summer. It was the summer before I went to South Africa. Everything was important and significant and terribly exciting. I loved it. I felt that my relationships were on amazingly intimate psychological plains, and it made me feel high. Life and I were both so intense. Ah, it was amazing!

Doing dishes tonight, I realized that there were other summers. Like, the summer after grade 6, when the monkey bars were finally put in at Birchmount and Sondra and I spent the entire summer doing flips in the school yard. Or the summer after grade 2 when all of the neighbourhood kids were playing this game they had invented: 'war'. We drew the "globe" on the road in chalk, and divided it amongst ourselves. There was a stick thrown and war declared on one of the other countries, and you tried to "bomb" them by hitting them with the stick. In all it was exciting and breath-taking and just a whole lot of fun.

I want this summer to be fun. *so be it*

;)

Sweet Dreams

2005-06-12T03:53:00.000-04:00

The downstairs neighbour is driving me nuts. She just moved in. She's Jen's hairdresser, so I happen to know that she recently divorced and is on a mission to enjoy life.

She doesn't seem to be enjoying it too much tonight. At a wee bit passed 3 am, I was woken to yelling on her balcony below mine. "I should have took him with me. I should have took David with me. He was fucking on my arm, I should have took him with me and he wouldn't have fought with the bouncer. I should have took him with me. I don't care that Emma's in jail, she fights and she deserves it, but I had him on my arm should have took him with me."

And she's shrieking this. Her male companions continue to talk about how they should have taken care of things with a "boom!".

Jeeze! Go to bed already. It's now ten to four, and they're still going at it.

"Okay, you should have took David with you, we get that. Please stop yelling on your balcony in the wee hours of the morning!!!"

I can't wait to move!

Some thoughts and G

2005-06-09T10:03:00.000-04:00

Why do perfect strangers feel it is okay to give me career advice? Personally, I think it's rude.

I was on a first date on Friday w/ G. The man felt it was okay on our first encounter to continually tell me that I should go to law school. Without truly knowing what I do for TM, he felt that it was appropriate to dismiss my current job. This bothers me on several levels.

First, most men whom I've told that I work for TM have assumed one of two jobs: secretary or call centre. I'm totally not exaggerating!! Granted, these are men that I've chatted to in bars (not the highest calibre of men in Toronto who were probably assuming that the bulk of the women present weren't all that intelligent), however, I do feel that sort of stereotyping prevails. And while I did tell G that I work as an auditor, there was nothing else discussed and he immediately assumed that my present career is insufficient. Therefore, on one level I'm bothered that he wouldn't pause to find out what is worthwhile in what I'm doing before telling me to get out of it.

Secondly, it bothers me that he would have the gall to try to take control of my career path. Don't get me wrong, G was perfectly lovely, but please! I'm sure his law career is wondrously rewarding, but to attempt to push me into law is inane!! It's a baseless argument to tell a stranger that she should go into law. What could he have known about me in those few hours before getting on me about my career? At most, that I'm articulate, intelligent and drop dead gorgeous ;) -- but that is not a criteria for investing $25,000 a year in tuition! This seems to be a control issue...

In related news, I had the most wonderful conversation with the CEO of Nelson Mandela Children's Fund (Canada). Have I blogged this before? Forgive me if I have.

I volunteer for the fund here in T.O. It's one of the most rewarding things I do right now. It's not that I feel that I'm making a direct impact on the issues facing children in South Africa, it's just that I'm doing a little bit to make the fund better able to impact those issues. There are great people volunteering with me, and I come into contact with many South Africans, as well as Canadians involved in Southern Africa. In all, it feels like the right thing to be doing with my time.

To the conversation though: I made a comment to M about having developed the skills and experience necessary to have a fruitful finance career, but that I may have difficulty moving these skills and experience into the international relations based careers that I would like to move in to. M stopped me immediately and said that NGOs in particular are looking for people with a business background. He said that with money being tight these days (what w/ Canada not making any move to reach the 0.7% of GDP pledge -- Jeeze Martin -- get w/ it!!), NGOs have to be highly accountable for each penny spent. He said that in a South African context, someone with an internal auditing background is highly prized with the history of misallocated funds (damn, that is such a politically correct way of saying things!). He's rather excited about my background.

Thus, I'm getting really excited about my background. I had always thought that an MBA could be an interesting distinction to achieve. Now, I'm seeing that as an even more desirable piece of paper to add to my resume.

In the time between these possibilities and their fruition, I'm excited about being in Toronto for the summer. There is a lot going on with NMCF. My friends and I are actively experiencing the city. There are lots of good books to read and great parks and cafes to read them in. There are dates to go on, and festivals to attend. *sigh*

(at work -- no time to proof, sorry!)

Nice, eh?

2005-05-31T22:48:00.000-04:00

Do you like the new format? Thoughts?

(I needed a change. And I still have 1/2 bottle of shampoo, so new product was out of the question!)

Silence is Golden

2005-05-31T22:07:00.000-04:00

I am trying to teach myself to keep my mouth shut. It's not easy, I tend to be an open book. I guess I used to figure that anyone could just see what is going on inside of me, so I might as well discuss it with them. But now, I realize that some things are better left unsaid.

Take this weekend, for instance. I really shouldn't have told LL that I've yet to tell many friends from University that I've seen him again a couple of times. I mean, it's just been coffee and steak, so why should I tell them? Especially after they've gone on a gazillion dates with me since breaking up w/ LL (not actually with me, but I've told them everything and brought them in on each guy, and then watched them screw their faces up when things fell through. I just don't want to bring them in on this one. Considering the gruesomeness of the break up, can anyone blame me?) But really, why on earth did I tell him that? It just made him feel like a jackass. I mean, he's not exactly A; he actually cares so much that he's living a good life and being good to the people around him. Yikes.

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I went out w/ J and K and S tonight for J's birthday. It was a mini girls' night and in fine form we worked our way through men, bras, tampons and the teenage years. It was lovely. And a bit draining.

Nothing like this weekend w/ S, the volunteer co-ordinator and volunteer J. It was so invigorating to talk about anti-retrovirals in South Africa, Mugabe and the razing of squatter camps over the weekend in Zim, and Black solidarity. I really miss African politics... . I really miss want that internship. *sigh*

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Do you know that print in my apartment of Ubu? The one w/ the big round man with his eyes closed, lips pursed, head tilted back and the swirl on his tummy? Well, that's Ubu. Ubu is from a French play from the turn of the last century. Ubu was evil and his image has been used in painting ever since. Recently, he has been applied to South African culture to represent the evil of apartheid; both in a fine art form (such as the print) and in the form of a play ('Ubu and the Truth Commission').

Anyway, I bought copy of Alfred Jarry's Ubu Roi. It's a mid-century play based on 'Ubu roi ou les polonais'. Wah!! :O

Yeah, I'm nerdy, but come on, you knew that from day one!!

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That's about it for tonight. I had a great day; the work day flew with the flurry of everyone's stress from working on a large audit. I wrote my article. It flew out of me. I had planned on a couple of hours to work on it, but the program I wrote about was so inspiring that I couldn't get the words out fast enough: Vukani-Ubuntu. I will post my article when it's published.

I'm off to shower.

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Btw, the downstairs neighbours are really loud. I guess Jane and I were loud like that last year, but still, I don't think it was ever this late!!

You're a Hero Mike!

2005-05-23T23:01:00.000-04:00

"You saved your Mother and Father."

Or that's how I remember it from James and the Giant Peach.

Anyway -- 3 cheers for Mikey! He fixed my computer. I can blog again!! I am whole!!

:D

Really though, it feels so good to be able to write! I know I need to move past my dependency on blogging as a means of getting my writing out of myself, but I'm just not into the pen right now, and I am scared to lose words; they have a tendency to disappear from my hard drive. At least on the internet, I'm relatively soothed by the thought that a computer nerd with a far more astute sense of computers is going to keep blogger running and my words safe.

Fuck, I'm one jay away from turning into a bloody paranoid "end-of-days" Jack Kerouac.

Speaking of Kerouac, I'm convinced that that man really just needed a hug. A true hug. One that let him know that his soul was okay. That he could handle what was happening. And that even if everything just fell apart, he would still be loved and still be okay.

But I guess one can get to the point where there is no way you are allowing anyone to give you that hug and reassurance. You're frozen, and there's no way of reaching you, even with the warmest of intentions... *sigh*

In other good news, Mike has also brought my computer back to the year 2001. I can now use spell check from G-Mail at home. So, to those that I tend to send private ramblings to, you might actually enjoy reading them again as I will be correcting the inevitable concieved's and tha tflower's. ;)

Things are certainly coming up Jana these days. Really, I have horse shoes coming out of my ass. The Ipod, the travel certificate, WOW successes, Blogger-bilities, happiness, good people and a bright sunshine... . Things are lovely.

Alas, I must go to bed. I'm still terribly dependent on good sleep (and healthy foods and the periodic trip to country side with its clean air).

*mwah*

PS. Someone in my neighbourhood is setting off fireworks. It's 11 o'clock!! I am this close to calling the cops!! ;-)

While I still can't post from home, I have no problem writing titles. So long as there isn't a cap on the length of my titles, I'm good, right?

2005-05-15T00:12:00.000-04:00

Infrequent Posts

2005-04-29T12:19:00.000-04:00

I am presently unable to access blogger from home. Thus, the current trend of infrequent posts will continue. (The fluorescent lights and constant chatter from the new guy at work do not create a positive blogging environment).

Summer Plans

2005-04-15T15:13:00.000-04:00

(the postable ones: read censored)

1. Enjoy Summer in Toronto: Beaches, Queen, Danforth, Casa Loma, Toronto Island, Shakespeare in High Park, Amphitheatre, Beer Fest, Harbour Front, Fort York
2. Spend spare time on J's patio
3. Get comfortable wearing my bikini
4. Spend whole days at the beach
5. Throw more parties at my apartment
6. Enjoy the sun and heat
7. Determine, once and for all, if I can actually get a tan
8. Have fun! (I can revert to adulthood in the fall)

You Know It Don't Come Easy

2005-04-15T10:28:00.000-04:00

So, I listen to a classic rock station at work (well, and at home, in the car…). They've been playing Bruce Springstein's "Devils and Dust" and several lines from the second verse really touch on a lot of the issues I've been dealing w/ in the recent past:

I'm just trying to survive
What if what you do to survive
Kills the things you love
Fear's a powerful thing
It can turn your heart black you can trust

I feel like I was just trying to survive for so many years and it did, within myself, kill the things that I love. I've lost so much of my passion. I've been left living in fear.

Obviously, I will get out of this predicament, like I've gotten out of all the rest. But what a strange place to find myself in. Passions are born without effort or a plan. The difficulty is therefore regaining something that alludes seeking. The more one tries to find or force a passion, the more illusive it becomes.

So I must wait. Trust.

To Be Blogged... Sometime

2005-04-12T22:22:00.000-04:00

1. Coffee with LL: LLovely
2. The new desires and the new fears
3. How does one intertwine a relationship with a firm sense of independence?
4. Contentness: can I ever be content with where I am?
5. "Blog" is not in Blogger's spell check!

A Robust Red

2005-04-12T21:50:00.000-04:00

No! Not me!! The wine, silly!

It's a Tuesday evening, and since quitting time I've worked out, caught up w/ K and had a pedicure. Now, it's me and the keyboard and a glass of robust red wine. Some nights, I think this could be all I need to be happy.

It seems partially Mennonite to me. (Except for the wine part, of course). It's akin to being happy with the simple things in life. Were I to be truly content with my life's own simplicity, I would create so much less unhappiness.

For truly, were I to allow myself, I could be so unhappy with some of the results of my constant push to find something more. Something better. I've slept with men I never should have, drugged myself in unnecessary ways and traveled solo into dangerous situations, just to know what was on the other side of a fence.

In doing so, I've wound up here: 25 and scared to death of my own dreams.

It's all a bizarre cycle though. In this fear of what I want, I consistently push myself into these obscure, un-desired situations simply because they lack any pressure to succeed. I don't fear failure with someone like '39', so I can become completely wed to the idea of him. (Well, no fear of failure and he was damn hot!).

LL and I spoke of something similar on Sunday. Apparently, we both share this desire to bag off work for months on end to write or travel Africa or pursue our other non-traditional dreams. But we were both raised by practical people who instilled in us the value of 9-5 and that inherent stability.

*sigh*

It could be a no-win situation. But knowing this roadblock is there must be a fraction of the battle. So, while I focus on the current desires (salsa with Jane, getting healthy w/ the ND, FYI apps), I will continue to work on myself, so that, just maybe, a year from now, I will be publishing this from Q's or a comically run-down internet cafe in Harare.

(And G is looking out for me -- he's threatened to kick my ass if I'm still sitting where I am come December. There's nothing like the fear of a gentle giant to trump the fear of failure!)

'39' Revisited or J. The Strangler

2005-04-07T23:09:00.000-04:00

39 didn't work out. It started off with a refusal to wear a condom and ended with a demonstration of how he wanted to strangle me while we were having sex. I'm assuming that even Dan Savage wouldn't be okay with this guy's first date demands, so I cut all ties.

Back to the drawing board.

(And don't worry, the (now) humourous details are all preserved in my own journal for future writing activities).

I hope everyone is doing well, and I promise to write more soon.
Love you guys!!

Bikini Season Approaches

2005-03-26T20:11:00.000-05:00

In preparation for the coming warm weather, I bought 2 bikinis today. Completely unnecessary? Yup, probably. But my goal is to spend much more time in the beaches this summer. In fact, K and I have a standing pledge to spend our weekends picnicking on the beach.

Anyway, the $50 I spend on bikinis is nothing compared to the money I plunked down for my 'first date w/ 39' outfit. And I might still add a pair of brown boots to the total.

The funny thing is, I don't see this outfit purchase as all that unreasonable. I started with an AWESOME dark-green silk blouse/tank top from Old Navy. Reasonably priced, drop dead sexy. I realized I just HAD to create an outfit based on this shirt for the date. The trouble is, I am going directly from work to date -- no time to change. So this has to be a multiple functional outfit.

Solution? I added a nice pair of tan/brown pants and a feminine wrap-cardigan in white. The top has a deep V-neck, so I'm thinking of jewelry to go w/ it too. There is this really cute silver flower that would look great w/ the outfit. But I do have a lot of green amber jewelry in my jewelry box that I could just as easily use. Also, I have those brown high heels from the wedding that would look good w/ the dress pants; I just think that we're merely on the cusp of weather that would be practical to wear the shoes out in, and it could look foolish being out in those low-cut shoes on a cold night. However, would I be the greater fool for buying a whole new pair of boots for the date???

Interestingly, for a girl who was so opposed to these wondrous questions of contemporary girlhood not so long ago, I think it could be quite practical to buy a pair of boots for this outfit. I need a pair of brown boots for work. I can get a style that will still be in style next winter, and wear them for the rest of this winter. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be that much around. There is a pair of midlength boots for sale at a store in the STC (next to the office) that are at a decent price point. While they look good on, they aren't all that comfortable (not bad, but not good either). And they seem yucky to me for some reason. Probably that they are that cheap vinyl stuff at the top, and while it doesn't look any different to the average eye, I know that it's not leather, and would just rather pay a bit more for it.

It's a good thing I've nothing but cleaning on the agenda for the rest of this weekend -- cleaning will give me enough time to ponder the economics of this shopping issue.

I can't wait for Monday!!!

Glad '39' isn't in Town After All

2005-03-22T21:49:00.000-05:00

While I should be disappointed, maybe even a little upset w/ him, I'm really glad that 39 isn't in town this week. He was supposed to arrive either Monday or Tuesday, staying until Easter Friday. But when 39 called Sunday night to tell me that he wasn't going to make it, I was just downright relieved.

I couldn't talk for long though. I was in the hospital and TOTALLY should not have answered my phone, let alone have talked on it. (You aren't supposed to use cells in hospitals b/c of possible interference w/ equipment). But a girl in lust will do many dangerous things!!

As it was, just hearing that he wouldn't be around was a relief. This vomiting/diarrhea that has been plaguing me for nearly 2 weeks now, resulted in a high fever, sore neck and rash on Sunday. Totally unattractive! I, of course, assumed meningitis at worst, and choking on my vomit at best. When Mom (who NEVER over-reacts) told me I should call R and have him take me to the walk in clinic to have a doctor take a look at me, I thought she could have a good idea going.

As it is, I don't think Western medicine is for me. The only clinic open was at the Women's Hospital. It wasn't an emergency room, just an urgent care clinic that happened to be at a hospital. I prefer a family doctor's once-over and being sent home w/ instructions to bathe in Baking Soda and drink fluids. The hospital-clinic experience was a tad different, and far more like an emergency room than I had anticipated. I was immediately seen by a nurse and admitted to the hospiatl. After being put in isolation for an hour, and not having been allowed to take my mask off for the duration of my stay, I was a tad worried. The doctor didn't look me in the eye, and didn't tell me anything about what was going on with me, other than, "I am hoping this is just a viral infection. You will have to come back tomorrow morning to see a specialist." Two mornings later, after being looked over by a doctor and his 3 male med-students (not as sexy as it sounds), I was told that they still didn't know what caused the rash/vomiting combo, but that I could go back to work as soon as I felt strong enough.

Umm, okay.

So, after a nap this afternoon, I'm feeling quite a bit better. Other than the stiff neck and diarrhea, I'm feeling pretty much back to normal. I've heard from Jenn's blog (j_spot.blogspot.com -- you should go), that there is a "weird recurring flu" that has been going around. So, I'm hoping my last two weeks can be chalked up to the 'flu' and I'll be rash-free and fancy footed when 39 does actually make it up to the city.

I Killed Ralph!

2005-03-15T21:09:00.000-05:00

I killed Ralph S. Mouse today. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!

Still fighting off this stomach bug, I came home, allowed all of my innards to spill from my body and napped. When I awoke, I went under the sink and there he was!!!! EW!!!

So, the trap was upside down, and all I could see was the brown mouse body lying next to it. I almost ralphed again right there!!

Instead, I flung the cupboard door shut and dashed to the couch. My feet curled under me, I called home to talk to Mom. Dad answered. "Christ, just throw the thing out!!" He obviously doesn't understand how these rodents bother me.

I finally got Mom on the phone and suggested that I wait for JP to come over tomorrow night. JP actually likes the bastards. While she would be upset at Ralph being dead, she would at least be able to throw him out w/out a flinch. Mom didn't go for that idea. "It'll start to stink as it decomposes!!" I personally don't think it would start to stink by tomorrow night, but alas, I knew I wouldn't be able to stay in this apartment with... the body.

My other thoughts of rescue went to my neighbours, T or N from work, or R. Not wanting to invite the neighbours in and knowing that T and N live too far away to be of service in this sitch, I was left wondering about my brother R. Realizing that R would be even more squeemish about the rodent than I, I realized it was up to me.

So, the question became, how to dispose of it. I had previously bought a long handled tong to pick up the mouse traps w/. I didn't expect the mouse to not be in the trap though. I did NOT want to touch the corpse. Furthermore, I didn't even want to look at it. I decided that (in the absense of sun glasses) turning the kitchen light out was the way to go. I luckily had been to the drug store on my way home from work, so I had a plastic bag handy. (I keep my plastic bags under the sink, along w/ the long rubber gloves I bought for mouse disposal. I wll have to move them into a more convenient location!!!).

I half filled the bag w/ garbage, got my tongs and approached the cupboard from the side. I moved some cleaning supplies out of the way (w/ the tonges of course -- everything in that cupboard is now officially contaminated) and moved in. I clasped the trap the tongs and began to pull it towards my stratigically placed bag. The trap apparently got the mouse on the head, as his lifeless body dangled from wood and metal. Then it fell!!!

FUCK!!!

(EWEWEWEWEWEW)

One deep breath later, I moved in, got a firm hold of the trap and dumped the bugger in the bag. Holding the handles with the tongs, I carefully and swiftly moved down the hall to the garbage shoot. I put the bag in and closed the door. Nothing. The garbage in the bag (mostly tissues and some paper) was not heavy enough to push through the swinging door! Christ! What part of the bag could I push w/out coming into contact w/ the corpse?

Luckily, and old tissue box was visible through the plastic, and provided a good hold. One shove later and I ran back to my apartment. I sprayed down the cupboard w/ Lysol and thought writing would calm my nerves.

Nope. Writing has forsaken me.

I think it's up to Jack to calm my nerves. Jack Daniel that is. I think I will pour myself a stiff drink and head to the shower to scrub myself down w/ a brillo pad. I think some sort of positive affirmations will also help calm the nerves: "There is only one mouse. No others will come. It was only Ralph who ventured to the 11th floor. There are no other mice on my floor. I will not have to do this again."

And uh-oh, either my affirmations aren't working on my nerves or that stomach bug is still here, but here comes dinner!! No time to spell check...

Thirty Nine

2005-03-11T22:29:00.000-05:00

He's 39. J is.

Does that change anything? Should it?

Well, yeah, I guess it does change things. It shifts the balance somehow. Maybe I think that age shouldn't shift the balance, but I do think that it does here.

Regardless, there's something there. There's something about this man and how we met that means that I have to follow this through.

FYI: Toronto hits J's itinerary next week. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!

PS

2005-02-26T00:32:00.000-05:00

The TM bitches have totally crossed the line, and sweet-as-pie, I'm going to win this war. :D

In the Green

2005-02-26T00:14:00.000-05:00

And by that, dear readers, I mean that I've balanced my outstanding debts and am celebrating the high life!

That said, I still have my student loan outstanding. I might potentially return to school in September which would put the balance back into interest protection, so I'm not sure I want to bother paying that off right now. I have just enough funds to cover the balance of my student loan, but I think that I want to hang on to that; this is the first tax return I've filed as a non-student, and I am worried that I might owe money. This fear is based solely on the fact that my brother had to pay taxes one year soon after he had finished university. I have some other background worries surrounding my non-student status, but none that are based on any cold, hard facts. Honestly, I have no real understand of Canada's tax system.

Taxes are just one of those things that I haven't bothered to learn about. Partly, I know nothing about taxes because I haven't yet had the time to figure it out. Now that I'm not in school (and therefore have much more free time on my hands), I think it's time to learn.

That, and now that my parents can't claim part of my tuition on their own taxes, I can't rightfully have mom calculate my tax return. Canada's Tax system is the the last vestige of my pre-adult life. The only remnant of having been dependent on my parents. Since learning to walk, I began moving away from my parents. By the time I was 15, I was working and paying for all of my expenses. By the time I was 17, I was half way around the world living with strangers. By the time I was 23, I was living in my own apartment, educated and financially stable. Sure, I had my debts (Visa LOVES me, and I love shopping), but I wasn't out of control.

So, now I'm both paid up and independent of my parents. Doing my own taxes is the last bit of attached umbilical cord that I need to cut. After that, I'm a grown up...

Grown-up? On second thought, I think I will do my own taxes next year.

Making it Through Midnight

2005-02-24T00:24:00.000-05:00

There was just a thud against the door and I'm certain that it was the mouse running into it. Or, rather hoping that it was...

This 4pm to midnight shift is finally doing me in. I've had to get up at a decent time for appointments the last two mornings, and now I'm beat. I've eaten more junk food in the last week and a half than I have in the last year. And I haven't had as much contact with others as I would like. Really though, I'm used to seeing my friends and talking to my family in the evenings. Having my time monopolized from 4 to midnight is simply unhealthy.

That said, I'm generally enjoying training. My instructor is comical, a lot of my class mates are fun, and I'm not having to do any reporting for Marketing. Really, the Trade Marketing issue itself is enough to be singing from the hilltops!! Those women were really just running me ragged with their constant demands and completely panicked attitudes to life. His manager told me that it was this TM reporting that was the deciding factor in R's decision to leave, and I don't doubt it for a moment. It should be a full-time job in and of itself. I shall leave it at that, lest I launch into a tirade.

In an attempt to counter some of the ill effects of the training, I've set up a lunch date with my brother for tomorrow. I will meet him at a restaurant near his office for lunch. I'm looking forward to it, knowing that I always enjoy being around my family, and am taking it as a simple lunch as opposed to any grand gesture of good faith. And that feels comfortable.

I guess that is what I love about being with my family; it is so comfortable. The way everyone is, and the ways in which we interact with each other are comfortable. M grabbing me into a head lock (even in the middle of the mall), is comfortable. My Dad's humour, mom's prattling. The way R and I know everything about each other's histories. I love all of that.

I've really enjoyed watching M grow up. Being almost 9 when he was born meant that I was able to watch every part of his life. And I was often a part of his life. To know how he was at 2 and how he is now at 16 is very interesting to me. I'm sure it is similar to the way a parent feels. Yet I know that I have the unusual benefit of being a sibling, and getting access to even more of his life. As open as my brothers and I are with our parents, every 16 year old has his or her secrets from Mom and Dad that aren't as taboo for a sibling.

It's magical really. It was like watching G grow up. Babysitting him for his first two years was a hell of an experience. I miss not having the almost daily contact with him now, but it is comical to see such vast changes in him over month long periods! We're currently arguing over the pronunciation of Lesotho. (G isn't exactly the average 3 year old...).

But I should hit the hay; it has been a long day. I'll be free of the midnight shift in 2 days!!! So by next Monday (after a weekend of sleeping), I should be able to see/talk to you guys again!!!

(Keep your fingers crossed that I make it!).

Laud to the Lakeview Lunch

2005-02-22T00:21:00.000-05:00

The Lakeview Lunch has been closed down. Eye magazine reports that it was shut down by the owner, who was refusing to rent out the space any longer. To those of us who have eaten there, we all know that it was more likely to have been shut down by the health inspector. As disgusting as that is, I'm still deeply saddened by this news.

Frankly, the Lakeview Lunch is a part of my history -- a part of OUR history! S and I had several breakfasts there; T, K and myself ate there many nights. I was there with R and his roomates. Even New-Brunswick Jenn and I had beers there after a Haunted House and before a Hip concert.

It was dirty, we all knew this, and it was highly overpriced for the poor food and even worse service. But it was an extension of my home on Dundas. I studied there many nights over omelets and beer. And I loved knowing that this restaurant was a piece of Canadian film history. Scenes from that great Monkees film were shot there, more commercials than I can count and even Cocktail shot a bar scene there. The old movie posters on the wall added to the feeling that the place was something more than our lives in Toronto.

B/c the Lakeview Lunch was big.

Watching the crowds pour in on a Saturday morning proved that.

While I haven't been the Lakeview since moving into these digs, I am saddened to know that I won't ever be able to visit again. Goodbye.

The Mouse and The Motorcycle

2005-02-17T00:31:00.000-05:00

Each time I've been to Colorado, I've thought about how much my father would enjoy it. Strutting around in his cowboy boots, I think Bryan would get a kick out of the culture, the scenery and the mining. Dad seemed to take us to a lot of mines when we were growing up. At the time, I didn't think much of it, but during my stay in South Africa, each mine I went down made me feel comfortable and safe, like being w/ Dad.

While I had grand visions of giving Gose and Anneke this same type of trip and memories, I quickly realized that Gose just wanted to relive his old memories of Jana: someone who would make him laugh and share music with him. So that is what I gave him. While I won't go into the details of our giggles (body humour just can't be as funny to a Mom I'm afraid), I will say that Gose and I had many laughs and sang many songs during my stay. Not knowing what stereo equipment would greet me in Vail, I decided against bringing my CDs. Instead, I had Gose teach me all of the songs he had learned at school and we sang those together. I've had
"The More We Get Together" in my head for nearly a week!

Consequently, I've been wondering about the validity of being around friends and family as a means of creating happiness. Obviously, I am perfectly pleased both with people and alone. But there are times when I know that I really need people around.

Today was definitely one of those days. There was a mouse. In my apartment. IN MY APARTMENT THERE WAS A MOUSE!! Jeeze. I hate that. It makes my skin crawl and I end up getting cramps in my legs from sitting with my feet curled under me! I'm trying to calm down about it. Realistically, this was the first one I've seen and it took one look at me and dashed back up into the heater and back to my neighbours apartment (or I assume that is where it went). And I haven't seen any "evidence" of mice in my apartment (I look... I'm mildly paranoid). But where there is smoke there is fire. And I really don't want this little bastard going back next door and telling his disease ridden friends that there is a really clean apartment next door with a great library! Mice. *Ick*.

So this is a call to arms! I'm sounding the trumpets! HELP!!

This is just one of those things that I don't want to deal with. I will do almost anything for myself. I will clean, I will paint, I will shovel horse shit from the Mennonite horse pad, but I will not deal with this mouse. I want help for that. I want someone else to take care of it. Please!

This is also an email in lieu of a phone call. I've started my 4pm to midnight training and really haven't figured out how to rearrange my life to fit into those hours.
So, to those I have yet to call since my return; I'm alive and well (though mildly terrified) and Vail and my flight were great!

PS. SEND HELP QUICK!

The Recent Happenings in Point Form

2005-02-15T11:22:00.000-05:00

- I had an awesome night in Denver w/ K and C. Tequila is the strangest drug I've ever ingested.

- Vail was lovely. I was so pleased to have been able to spend some time w/ Gose and Anneke.

- Gose had a nightmare on Friday; it was the most terrifying thing I've ever witnessed. I've never seen someone so upset and inconsolable.

- Somewhere between Denver and Chicago, I fell head over heals for J. I've had a silly grin on my face ever since.

- Somewhere between Denver and Chicago, I regained my beliefs in Fate.

- The University found my transcripts which were sitting in the wrong office. In a vast departure from U of T, everyone I spoke to on the phone was polite and downright pleasant to me. How lovely.

- My 4pm to midnight training started last night. *Yawn*.

- T did give me a BIG box filled with Lindt chocolate (and I mean filled, with everything from those Lindor truffles to whole chocolate bars) and a movie pass for two. This was to make up for forcing me into training on Valentine's Day.

- J sent a cute V day message. Ahhh.

- I'm now going to have to do a killer workout to combat the ill effects to my waistline of eating so much chocolate. Surprisingly, I've been rather conservative on this chocolate intake.

Insignificant Confessions and Beliefs or Die You Fucking Pigeons, Die!

2005-02-06T17:04:00.000-05:00

1. My polite and significantly firm demands for pigeon netting has finally got the job done; my balcony is now free of pigeons!! I still have to clean up the lovely mess they left behind, but they can no longer grow the mess, nor make disturbing cooing noises outside my window at 4am. Those fucking birds were god-damned annoying!!! They irritated the bejesus out of me! Now they fly up to my balcony, thinking they will be able to land on their favourite crap pile. No, instead they are suddenly greeted by black netting! BWAHAHA!! You may have won some battles you fuckers, but you surely have lost the war!!

2. I've been writing a fair bit of fiction lately, and I can't help but continue the with the dramatic art.

3. Tea keeps me from Freaking Out.

4. I was completely exhausted by my work week. TM needs to back the fuck off. I can't take it -- they are completely insane and over determined and over dramatic -- they fucking exhaust me.

5. I've decided not to answer my phone when TM calls. Nor check the bizillion messages they leave when they call and I don't answer. And I will read their emails once a day, at the end of my day, and will schedule their requests in a free spot in my calendar.

6. I need to write more. Put more of my time and efforts into something that I really want to do, as opposed to something that I think people should do.

7. I will accumulate back-ups in life, because my personality renders me prone to being emotional because I get worn down by the insignificant pettiness of mankind.

8. I don't want to switch to humankind, I was raised on mankind.

9. We can know what mankind means and also know that women are equal to and different from men.

10. I do not get bothered by the big things that happen in life.

11. I handle natural and man-made disastrous well.

12. I expect war and cruelty on an international scale and expect that I will be able to handle it.

13. I want to work in policy making in situations of internationally war and cruelty.

14. I'm a poor speller.

15. In working to get better at spelling, I lost some of my creativity as a writer.

16. Flow is directly linked to creativity.

For All That I've Become, What Am I Willing to Risk for Love?

2005-01-30T20:52:00.000-05:00

Isn't it written in the female handbook that a girl should never rekindle an old flame? Doesn't it say somewhere that getting back together with an ex is a guaranteed failure? Then why do I want to try this?

To those of you who have been tracking my romantic failures, there can be no doubt that I'm referring to the notorious Latin Lover who appeared in the early university days.

And Jesus! It's been a while since the early university days. There have been so many twists and turns that I don't think he would recognize me. Maybe then, I should think of the gracious words he wrote to me as nothing more than a nice way to finally put away our relationship. Or, merely as good romantic breeding.

The problem is, I know I can't be that cynical. I know that I'm truly an optimist and that I can't help but hope that each day will bring something to the world that will make it more lovely than the way it was yesterday. The yesterdays with LL, for all their troubles, were so lovely. He was lovely and he truly wanted the best for me. He also knew the intimate and secret places of myself and didn't love me in spite of them, but loved me because of them. How sad that I only since discovered just how rare a beauty that sort of love is.

But, for all that I've become, what am I willing to risk for love?

Tiffany & Co

2005-01-23T19:36:00.000-05:00

Some things I like:

1. Giving myself a pedicure while watching Breakfast at Tiffany's.
2. Enjoying girly things -- it's great to be a girl and I'm going to enjoy all the perks it allows me!
3. Knowing that all of my ironing is done and hung neatly in my closet.
4. Having a neat closet.
5. That a perk of technology is being able to live an invisible life. *
6. Swiss Chalet.
7. Dancing in the shower to Sarah Harmer.
8. Zulu culture.
9. African politics and history.
10. Being self-sufficient.
11. Last Sunday's Simpsons: Aboo crossing the border is almost comparable to Smither's computer boot up message.
12. Using tools to be creative.**
13. Using my time wisely.

-- in the spirit of using my time wisely, I'm not going to check this post for spelling/grammar -- I'm going to finish my washing the dishes.

*I can pump my gas, get cash from a bank, buy and pay for groceries without ever having to see people. I truly believe that the 'surveillance' that we have today is no more than on par with the level of surveillance pre-computer era. Think about it, you had to deal with people. Everywhere. You didn't talk to "Dorothy" (or whatever the hell her name is at Bell), you spoke with an actual operator. You didn't get money from a machine, but had to ask the teller to help you. You didn't get your boarding pass from a computer in the terminal, but from an actual airline representative. Everyone new your business and everyone had access to you. The camera at the gas pump (which tapes probably aren't reviewed unless there's an "incident") doesn't seem to be such a big issue now, does it? At least the guy pumping your gas isn't smelling the weed in your car and calling the cops on you while he puts your Visa threw... I guess if you aren't doing anything wrong, then why would it matter if Jim at the gas bar is keeping tabs on you? Hey, isn't that the same argument for surveillance?

**I think this summer, I will finally perfect my bed frame. I'm going to move it out to the balcony (hopefully w/ Jane), and strip off the paint and stain it a rich brown colour. I also want to find some nice tin boxes from the flea markets so that I can strip them down off all their paint and rust and finally organize this apartment!

Perfect Pictures

2005-01-14T16:22:00.000-05:00

THANK YOU JENN!!! The birthday present was just perfect. The photos you chose were both fitting and beautiful. YAY!

Is Life Worth Living on this Side of the Atlantic?

2004-12-20T23:03:00.000-05:00

All that I can do for my friends is let them know that I will support them in their decisions. Unless I am certain that said decision will end up hurting my friend, who am I to step in? I have no answers. I too am just struggling to find my best way in life. And while I believe in some grand commonalties in life, I realize that every situation is unique. So, I will revel in your unique experiences, and share mine w/ you.

Let’s dig everything as we go along.

Blockbuster Doesn't Ask for my Health Card

2004-12-18T23:03:00.000-05:00

I can't rent movies at the convenience store on my block anymore. The woman who works there was completely ridiculous a month ago, telling me that b/c my address varied from my health card to my driver's license, I would have to leave a monetary deposit or my allow them to keep my health card until I returned the movies. PLEASE! So I told her, "thank you, but I think I will take my business to Blockbuster" and left. (This description misses the 20 minute debate that included me explaining to the woman that I had rented videos from them on two other occasions and she had helped me during one of those visits, and that I have, on both occasions, returned my videos on time and that I also shop at their store at least once a week).

Anyway, yeah, so now I go to Blockbuster. Blockbuster too is rather annoying, but at least the corporation has one intelligent worker on staff who realizes that having my DL and my health card numbers means that they could not only track me down if I didn't return their movie, they could also impersonate me if they felt like it. Furthermore, I do like that I can rent "favourites", or older movies for the splendid price of 8 DVDs or videos for $10.99. It's nice to know that in cable-free-land, I can still watch some really interesting entertainment.

That, and I don't get harassed by old women when renting movies.

----

I rent a few movies every month. But I'm at a loss. I didn't really watch movies until 1997 (when I met the Halfords). So I have a lot of catching up to do.

So this is what I would like. Consider it a birthday present, b/c let's face it, you have all forgotten again (which is why I feel no guilt at never celebrating any of your birthdays).

I would like each and every one of you to "comment" on this blog (yes, you techno-phobes, click on the word that says "Comment" below my post and you can enter your name (or not), and tell me 3 movies that you think I should watch. Feel free to tell me more than 3 movies. But at least 3, from each of you. I know you're reading this. Just click the button, type your name and list 3 movies. It will bring us closer together, I promise.

Summer in the City and Other Songs

2004-12-17T18:24:00.000-05:00

I’ve had a slight wobble this week. Well, not so much slight as short. It felt intense and I worried that such blue feelings would completely overcome me. While my past has trained me w/ many ‘negative’ reactions (like eating chocolate, b/c hell, that will surely make everything better and other more extreme tendencies), I think I did pick up many ‘positive’ reactions.

Wednesday was brutal. Everything poured out of me (in such a bad place - why can’t I have my melt downs when no one is watching?). I started to worry and know that I was emotional beyond my control. And what I know (now) that I have to do when I’m feeling like that is be w/ someone. If I’m distracted, I can find the good in life again. I can always see the good in someone else, and having something to smile about makes everything else brighter.

So, off to J’s I went, tears and all. A brief explanation later, and we were ordering Swiss Chalet and watching LOST. Man, the festive special really can make everything better.

Thursday wasn’t so hot. Then I got really scared. A (my chiropractor - yeah, I’m old, and the chiro is just the beginning of it! HA!) suggested a book for me to read. Some cheesy make-the-best-of-your-life read that a Ph.D. published to make some extra cash. But she also listened and encouraged me to change what needed changing. Then she cracked my bones, told me that my alignment was really good, and sent me back to work w/ a truffle. Life wasn’t better, but I was seeing the positive again.

Anyway, today was Friday and things were good. I’m glad that I’ve learned to get what I need and make use of my friends’ kindness.

Besides, work was beautiful, so how could I not think that all was right w/ the world?

This morning I made a few calls to make sure that the reports that I submitted were accurate (and that I had pulled the right info - I am still not feeling too confident in my SQL skills, but so far things have been okay). Then NDA sent out an email on my behalf and we pulled all the presents and food into the kitchen. T wore a lovely Christmas-themed plastic bag on her head (not her face, just on her head like a dunce cap). The Christmas tunes were put on and the wrapping began.

The commissions’ team was sponsoring a family for part of our Xmas event. Our family had two girls (age 5 and 9) and one boy (age 7) and a mother. Every team member drew a slip of paper (just like we did last year for the Secret Santa). Instead of the name of a co-worker, the papers gave an item or group of items to buy for our family. And our team brought in everything from coffee and pasta to Bratz and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

For one hour, we wrapped and decorated all of the bins for our family. It was festive and fun.
We drove to another part of Scarborough (which was lovely, looking out onto the lake). We dropped everything off at one appreciative mother’s house. She said that her kids would think that Santa had come during the day while they were at school, and they would never want to leave home again. We told her where to find the turkey and the gift certificates and we were off.

Back at the office there was a sandwich lunch and then off again to a play at the Bad Dog Theatre on the Danforth. For those of you in Toronto, "A Twisted Christmas Carol" is playing now until Xmas (I think) and would be a nice way to enjoy an evening (potential date??). It is a mix of improv/audience participation part "A Christmas Carol".

Tonight, my night has been quite perfect. I spent the afternoon writing my Christmas cards in Second Cup Later I mailed them, did a bit of shopping (figured it wouldn’t hurt to read A’s book, so I bought it) and am now back at home catching up here and listening to music. I’m really digging Blood Sweat and Tears and by Kris Kistopherson right now.

Also, I’m back on the tofu. I missed it and am feeling quite pleasant having it back in my life. Hmmm, detailed tofu descriptions... it must be super time.

It’s summer in the city.

City Girl Goes to her Work Xmas Party

2004-12-12T01:46:00.000-05:00

8 hours ago, a few of my colleagues came over for a pre-Xmas-party party. We had coffee and Amarula and chatted. It was rather pleasant. I now have a slew of wine and coolers and cookies and love for my co-workers.

The T Xmas party was so lovely. The theme was "les nuits des masques". I brought home my own mask, and a lot of smiles. The food was sufficient, and I had enough white wine to make a French man nod in approval (wow, that will piss off all of my PC friends :P).

Anyway, I danced up a storm, chatted freely w/ my close co-workers, and ogled my more distant co-workers. (No old, rich men w/ heart conditions, so I came home alone) ;)

I hope all of my friends, the world round, are feeling well and are happy. I love so many of you, and I know that I wouldn't be the woman that I was w/out you. I hope that you are all enjoying the Xmas season and are content in your current paths.

(Were it not so late, I would call many of you; I miss so many people in my life, but I feel it inappropriate to wake you for my own emotional (possibly drunken) silliness. N: thanks for a wonderful evening and for doing my hair, and for those that I love around the world -- enjoy your holidays and know that I love you though I may not be able/willing to see you.)

AM Ironing Session

2004-12-03T01:22:00.000-05:00

Lovely. It's 1am, and I'm just waking up from passing out after work.

I think my body is fighting off some virus, and I've therefore been unbearably tired for the last couple of weeks. Tonight, I came home from work, went for a 20 minute walk and mailed Jenn's xmas card/present. I came home, ate some soup and curled up on the couch and promptly fell asleep. Now, at 1am, I'm torn: go back to bed, or iron my shirt for tomorrow, wash the dishes and take a shower?

Yeah, so instead of deciding, I'm blogging. Rational thought escapes me at 1am, it appears.

That, and due to my anti-social state (which does continue on), I feel obliged to somehow convey to the people in my life that I am alive and well and still living in Toronto. Oh, and as far as the anti-socialism goes, I have been getting out more, so do not fear. I continue to despise the phone though. So, for whomever continues to call me at a 694 interchange: FUCK OFF!! I am not going to answer the phone, and unless you leave a god damn message, I will never call you back. GOT IT??

(Wow, such hostility for so early in the am. But really, bombarding me w/ phone calls and NEVER leaving a message is really annoying.)

If the truth be told, I'm largely avoiding Aunt J's calls. It's not that I don't want to talk to her, it's that I don't want to talk to her for 2 hours. That, and I still don't have an answer from K about Vail, and, not wanting to talk on the phone, I would rather continue to wait for an email than pick up the phone and get an instant answer.

Anyway... I think I will iron, shower and to bed. My dishes are not at the point of growing legs and walking away (yet), so I think I am safe leaving them for another night.

And I think we might have a new visitor. HELLO SLICK!! Thanks for the email, and as per my response, know that I didn't mean to imply that anything SHOULD be changed (nor that anything could be changed), just that I believe that there are only two choices: change or accept the current state. I love you just the way you are!! Kisses: mwah, mwah, mwah!!

Iron Iron Iron...

Stating the Obvious

2004-11-24T22:44:00.000-05:00

On www.cbc.ca this evening was the following story:

"Refit of HMCS Chicoutimi didn't catch all problems".

Duh!

Thanks for stating the obvious cbc.

Sunday Morning Sidewalk

2004-11-21T21:15:00.000-05:00

If I were to promise to not have a wedding, would the people I treasure in life all meet me in Halifax for one big razzle?

I had forgotten how sensitive I am. I had forgotten how I would leave K&J's house from a day of babysitting, and just sob on the subway knowing that even though I was returning to my rat infested apartment, I was returning to a place that was so much more than where I was leaving. I was returning to T and R, some of the most quietly caring people I've ever known and a house filled with people who truly wanted something good for the world.

I miss being surrounded by that. I really miss people who are nice to me and to whom I am nice. I am sensitive to mean words from those I love. There seems to be a lot of that being passed around right now. I'm also sensitive to the harshness of life. I know I've been around it enough to know how to detach myself from it, but I could never not notice it. It is the fundamental difference between the townships of Soshangowe and Alexandria: it's the difference between singing children and the sheer terror of caspers. The contrast is jarring.

I think, for a while, I would like to return to being in a soft life. To padding myself with good people and soulfulness.

I guess that's what it is for me about the Maritimes; it's filled with good people and soulfulness so that even the parts of life that I will give up for now in the search of the soft life in Toronto, can be enjoyed out East because they themselves are filled with good people and soulfulness. They become soft in and of themselves.

Maybe one day we will have that celebration in Halifax. A celebration of my union to the Maritimes to the exclusion of all other places.

(This could be my heaven. Just add a few key people and Johnny Cash, sprinkle with chocolate and stir.)

Laughter and Altitude Sickness

2004-11-18T16:37:00.000-05:00

One of the most enjoyable parts of my trip to Vail was meeting the bride's brother.

Let me take a step back. I was in Vail for the wedding of K whom I went to highschool w/ when we were both Rotary Exchange Students in Johannesburg, South Africa. While at Redhill, K and I became rather close. We ran together most evenings after school. We both joined our house drama clubs and acted in the festival. And when school or the country or our host families became too much to handle, we were there for each other.

So, when K asked me to do a reading in her wedding, I was thrilled. I had been down to Colorado to visit K while we were in uni, but it had been several years since we had seen each other. In all, I was so glad that I was able to witness her wedding. I knew going down that I wouldn't have much time to catch up w/ K, but being witness to one of the most important events in her life is important to me.

And there were many other people there to entertain me. She had arranged a "set up" w/ one of her single friends. W was a rather polite Texan who kept me company during dinner. After his departure, I went back to the condos w/ K's cousin and waited for the others to arrive. We partied in the maid of honour's condo until the wee hours of the morning. It was fun, and I felt rather comfortable w/ the people who were there, both K's family and her new husband's family.

The highlight was definitely K's brother though. He was absolutely hilarious. When we returned to our condo we stood in the kitchen chatting about life and nonsense and laughing until tears came out of our eyes and K's dad came out of his room to tell us to "keep it down". (This, of course, brought on more cries of laughter).

The next morning, horribly hung over (and rather displeased at having forgotten to turn my clock back the night before and thus having missed an hours sleep), I spent a couple of hours over brunch mingling w/ K's friends and family before her brother and I left for the airport. The original plan had been for me to return to Denver w/ the best man, but as it was, it just seemed more practical and enjoyable to travel back w/ K's bro (another K (henceforth BK-- in fact, all of the 3 children in the family have K names which is rather cute). Anyway, I hope no feelings were hurt in "our" decision -- it wasn't even really a question -- BK and I were flying out of Denver at about the same time (him to San Francisco) and it wasn't even discussed: we would drive together.

Anyway, the drive down the mountain is about 2 hours, and BK cleverly announced just before the clean up was to begin that we were leaving. In the car, both of us severely hung over, we laughed. I had tears down my face and by the end of the drive my sides ached. Maybe it was b/c he was K's brother, or because we shared a few key common interests, but I was so comfortable w/ BK and was honestly sad to say goodbye to him. I still chuckle when I think about our topics of conversation that day. I assume that I will never see BK again, but I think very highly of him and wish him the best in life.

(Conversations of note: morally defunct doctor for chemical regulation, dandruff and hotel rooms, green physics)

The Gap

2004-11-17T16:01:00.000-05:00

I've been feeling particularity anti-social since returning from Colorado. I am in a faze of picture taking and album making and cleaning and reading. All completely enjoyable activities, but anti-social ones none-the-less.

Looking up 'anti-social' on dictionary thesaurus produces an interesting list of terms:

"insane person, lunatic, madman, maniac, mental case, nutcase, psycho, psychotic, schizo, schizoid, section 8, sociopath, unstable personality, wrong number"

I can't help but feel that society largely agrees w/ these ideas. (Well, other than 'section 8', b/c really, what the hell does that mean??). I feel that it is somehow viewed as suspect to be spending so much time alone, but when the work day is over, I have no desire to be around others.

R tries to tell me that I am being silly, and that I am in fact very social. But he sees me mainly at work where it is to my benefit to be outgoing and I therefore put a smile on my face and interact w/ my colleagues. I mean, it's not all done in the spirit of getting ahead, I do genuinely enjoy the company of these people and think that we are all more productive when we've laughed together, but I do know that if I were to come into the office every day and hide behind my computer screen I would never get ahead here or gain the references I need to break into the field that I want to be in.

I suppose the true test of my character is my subway ride (and that is an event R doesn't see). As a rule, I am rather silent on my commutes. There are times when that is not possible (when I've happened to make eye contact w/ a fellow T employee on the train and can therefore not ignore their existence or when someone happens to catch my eye and we end up chattering through to Broadview station). But 9 times out of 10, I'm absorbed in a book or people watching and am relieved to be able to refrain from human interaction.

Anyway, this entire argument is rather insignificant. My point is merely that I'm not currently seeking human interaction and have therefore not wanted to blog or email or chat on the phone (though, I never really like talking on the phone, so don't expect that to change). Things are going well, and when I snap out of my "lunatic", "wrong number", "schizoid" faze, I'm sure you will all know. ;)

Hope you are all well, and if nothing else, I will try to update my blog more frequently. "Try".

Candles and Sea Salt

2004-11-11T20:01:00.000-05:00

There is something so beautiful about my washroom by candle light. Something that makes me so happy to be living in my 20s, discovering my adult self and what life is about in a new time. The way the plaster shadows in the flicker has me so thrilled to be living in my own place. This place. It's so beautiful all by itself. The funky tiles in the shower, the wooden floors and my stuff scattered about. The plants and the bookshelf, and everything hanging slightly off centre in the washroom. Everything is in that washroom. All pieces of me. Of my personality and how I live my life at 24. Of how I love making pizza for dinner and singing while I bath. By candle light.

Wheat Kings

2004-11-09T16:47:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite memories of first year of uni:

Around 3:30-4pm I would often be in my dorm room decompressing from the day. As it happened, this was about the time that the sun would begin to set in the late autumn Toronto. For about 20 minutes every afternoon, the sunlight would be able to pass between the two buildings that backed onto my dorm, and my entire room would be bathed in calm, yellow light. I would throw on the hip's "Wheat Kings", lie on my bed and feel truly happy.

I don't know if it was the sunlight or the idea that tomorrow brings infinite possibilities, but those afternoons in my dorm room were some of the most comfortable and wonderful moments of my uni career.

Let's just see what tomorrow brings.

Saturday Night and Ramblings

2004-11-06T23:47:00.000-05:00

My Thoughts this Evening.

I wrote to A today, and realized that I had too much going on in my head. Too many words that needed out. It’s no wonder that my apartment is a pig sty; that whole ‘sign of a cluttered mind’ bullshit and all.

I’m wondering who reads this. (And why they don’t have anything better to do with their time... ha! Kidding... sort of). I mean, does NIS read this? If I were to publish what I just did after getting home this evening, would my immigration request be refused? And does NIS still exist, or were they abandoned w/ apartheid?

I was supposed to meet up w/ K today for tofu at the Red Room, and later a coffee at Moonbeam (where I’ve still yet to go). We’ve been promising each other that we would go to Moonbean since fourth year’s "The Holocaust in Film and Literature" class w/ Prof Kraemer. He was an unbelievably sexy academic who gave me a little intellectualism twice a week. It was a lovely break from my inherent practicability (is that the word..... yeah, you know what I did when I got home tonight now!). I mean, I was raised by the children of farmers. I truly believe in the farmer’s creed (which I will publish here later). I was never given the opportunity to dissect the role of photography in the Holocaust before. It was so fucking amazing that it still makes my skin crawl.

Yet, I no longer want to talk about the role of photography (in anything) any longer. I’ve been there and made my mind up about it and to rehash those arguments just for the sake of entertaining someone else’s analytical addiction is not the least bit interesting to me. Jesus, how pretentious and well... snobby. But there you have it. When it all boils down, I need a genius or a really well traveled, alert and talkative 80 year old. (Otherwise, I will look either unenlightened or just plain bitchy. I’d rather the latter, but without one of the above, what do I care?).

What’s funny about this blogging culture is the role of tone. (And yes, here is a space where I will
review my prior beliefs: when those debates and beliefs can be applied to a new scenario, like the relatively new blogging experience. Obviously, this makes me a rather selfish person. I mean, let’s break this argument down:

If I’ve already come to a conclusion about an issue, I no longer want to talk about said issue. I don’t really give a shit if you want to talk about it. However, that said, if you were just to tell me that you were gathering opinions and ideas on the subject so that you could make a decision on it for yourself, well, that’s a whole other story. I will give you my views, my knowledge and experience and run through the whole argument with you, in your journey to come to a conclusion. That’s cool. Otherwise, I think you just like to argue and I don’t have enough time in my limited waking hours for that (by which I mean that I like to sleep a lot).
I assume that as I go through the journey of understanding myself, that yee, my audience really gives a fuck and wants to listen to me ramble and therefore I post my blogs instead of saving to my journal in Microsoft Word. (Though, to my credit, this is why I try to get this shit out in a format other than the conversation format. I find there something inherently healthy about having these sorts of conversations (confessions?). However, in this format, you have the option to stop reading. It’s really up to you. However, it is much more difficult to duck a face-to-face conversation, which also comes along with the whole problem of proper reaction which can be really hard for an emotional-type friend/listener to do. So, I may be selfish, but at least I’m courteous about it.). ;)
I really do want your feedback. I want to know what you guys are thinking about... stuff. About life and technology and the role of incense in daily life. If I’m trying to make up my mind about something, I will ask for your opinion. And if you are honestly thinking about something, why not share it w/ me; I might not have gotten around to that topic yet. All of you are in my life b/c I respect a certain aspect of you. Some of you have so many interests, mannerisms, senses of humour and fashion that I love about you. And when I hit an aspect that taps into what I value in you, I’m going to try to figure things out with your input. You know?

Maybe this argument has come full circle. The key might be honesty. Tell people what you want of them, and explain your actions. Just like I worry about my humour coming across as TOTAL BITCHINESS in my blog and emails, I worry that there is just as much possibility of what I say and how I behave around you that will be misinterpreted. Honestly, I generally don’t have any bad intentions. And if ever in doubt, just assume that I’m being lazy, b/c hell, it’s generally the case!! ;)

And wow, I’m really "off track" here. Going down a road that I don’t want to be on tonight. :) I guess, in some manner of thinking, if it came out of me, now, there must be some reason for it. Well, maybe not. Maybe it’s all fucking random and none of it matters... where’s AD when you need him ;)

AD was my physics TA when I was in first year. He was a total mind fuck too. And incredibly giving. He knew why I would email and ask him random questions at 3:37am. And he was usually around then too, w/ an incredible answer at hand. It’s too bad/sad/not surprising that while so many of these people and experiences at uni were so great, that the entire experience is overshadowed by a series of really shitty events. I mean, it does suck, and it’s too bad that I can’t just say there were some really awesome people at this place, and I learned some unbelievable stuff while I was there.

It’s just that, unfortunately I called attention to myself and to a side of the uni itself that was crumbling and dangerous and in need of repair at a time when no one (including myself) was ready to make those changes. And it’s too bad that so many people fought me so hard and were so downright cruel about it. And it’s too bad that so many people don’t understand the fundamental realities of this form of assault. And that the old-boys-club is far more important to many in it than the rights of women and the safety of the uni population. And that people whom I was close to decided that protecting this old-boys-club was more important than our friendships and than me as a human being.

Bah. I mean, who the hell am I to complain about this. I’m alive, over most of the debilitating effects of those three years, and have a wealth of experience under my belt. It sucked, and I had a right to feel what I felt, but now I just want to feel normal and healthy. (And by normal, I do mean that I want to feel the way that I used to feel before life took that sharp turn. I want to feel my normal. I realize that might be chemically impossible due to the effects of trauma on the human chemical make-up, but with so little knowledge about the human brain, I have to try.).

Funny, I often have this one dream where I’m on a toy train w/ lots of midgets and small children wearing costumes and staring at me (think Dorothy landing in a passively unfriendly Munchkin land), and I walk along beside it, and then up ahead of it, taking the turns through the bad parts of towns, and feeling that fear but knowing that I can work my way out of that place. Funny further that I’ve never managed to actually work my way out of that bad part of town in my dream before waking up. Maybe it’s not even possible, and I should just get on that train and stare people down with the little-people (that one was for P).

Well, hopefully I can meet up w/ K tomorrow. I realize I could have gone out after, but I really wanted to be in bed early tonight so that I can go out w/ B tomorrow morning for coffee. He may not be my 80 year old, but he’s lived a lot more life than I have and is rather adept at putting a firm yet gentle hand on my back and guiding me through some of the sticky parts of life. That said, I would benefit from his touch more were I to be more honest w/ him. Hmmm, that is one to ponder tonight for sure....

(And, if anyone is still reading by this point: GO TO A MOVIE!! If you’re wasting hours of your life reading my journal, you need to get out more!! Go see the Incredibles and tell me what you think.)

I've got Georgia on my mind...

To be Blogged upon my Recuperation from Vail

2004-10-31T23:30:00.000-05:00

1. The wedding: friendship, new acquaintances, and laughter.

2. Waking up to Johnny Cash.

3. Staying Home: the Respite from the Incessant travel.

To be Blogged upon my Return from Vail

2004-10-28T22:55:00.000-04:00

1. Life as a series of blog posts.

2. Canadian commercials: visual and auditive clips.

3. The dress: my first art purchase.

Good Luck M

2004-10-26T09:56:00.000-04:00

My collegue M has accepted a position as Senior Finanacial Analyst at BMO. Today, his last day as a member of the commissions team here at T, M brought some donuts in to suck up to the big guy... oops, I mean, as a gesture of goodwill toward his fellow employees ;)

Anyway, I sent old M a little email regarding his donuts, and his response has reminded me of the sadness of his departure:

"City Girl": So, um, donuts eh. Was that your final revenge on team "t"? Get us all fat before you go ;)

"M": Nope my final revenge is tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. everybody's screen saver will turn into a dancing naked M…..
"I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…..so sexy it hurts"

I'LL MISS YOU M!! Good luck!!

Fear and Loathing

2004-10-25T21:37:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I know nothing other than what I can sense in each moment: the pain in my back, the itch of my left wrist, the musky scent of my hair.

I know that I would like to be able to talk to A tonight. To just be able to call and listen like the days when I just couldn't talk w/ my coffee.

I fear what that means, how I will feel tomorrow and even that tonight may become too heady and stressful.

Coffee for One

2004-10-24T14:01:00.000-04:00

Funny how I’ve removed from my life the person who taught me about unconditional love. I remember the shock of realizing that while he completely disagreed with me over what was probably some trivial matter, he loved me anyway. It was the most amazing feeling knowing that someone loved me despite our differences. It was a feeling I had never known before. Don’t get me wrong, I know now and have always known that my parents will love me no matter what, but that’s different; I think the government pays parents for that sort of thing. And there was always a certain lack of respect from my folks for my differences: a disappointment in me for not eating animal derivatives, a sad acceptance that I would not always be around, a shake of the head as I ran away from yet another disaster.

And then there was that one afternoon in my favorite Toronto apartment w/ A. I can no longer remember what was being discussed or how A reacted, but I knew two things:

1. he thought I was completely ridiculous and downright wrong for my beliefs
2. he loved me anyway

Not any sort of romantic love: just the simple love of another human being. It felt so true and simple that I found myself giving pieces of who I was to this man who would never just promise me that he would be there for me the following day.

Yes, obviously those sorts of promises are "invalid" in many ways. But I don’t believe there is anything wrong in being given something to believe in, or a reason to believe it. I know Santa Clause probably doesn’t exist, but I believe it is fundamentally beneficial to the human psyche to believe that there is something better, something good. I believe that it is beneficial to myself to put my stocking out every year, and wish a Happy Holiday to strangers in the street.

Obviously, in the A friendship situation, we could both be hit by a bus tomorrow, and all promises of forever would be a "lie". But I need to hear that should we both be alive, we will be connected in some meaningful way. Otherwise, I become vulnerable. I feel that I am letting pieces of myself escape into a potential void. I become scared that I am accepting help in my life that might not be there when I need it.

Like Jenn. Where are you man? I need to be told to stay off the phone today. Isn’t that your job? I mean, what am I paying you for? Shouldn’t you carry a beeper or something? ;)

Yeah, so I’m kidding about the Jenn thing. While I would love to be able to talk to her this weekend, I assume she is in Moncton, and thus unreachable. But there is a fundamental understanding that she will be there for me, and that she is not hiding from me or tired of me in any meaningful, long term way. I know that she reads this blog, and digests it and adds my words to her ever changing picture of me, as I do w/ her blog (http://j_spot.blogspot.com) and my picture of Jenn. (Though, I assume that A does not read this b/c he just doesn’t really dig the internet *gasp* and I’m rather certain that given the blatant opportunity to ‘comment’ on my opinions, he would.)

I know that Jenn and I don’t think that the other is perfect (I know that Jenn sees how obsessive-worried I can become, and she will listen to the worry of the moment for a while before politely changing the topic. I in turn know that Jenn is destined for global sexual domination, and wish she would take the reigns from Sue now). Regardless, we love each other (in that lovely, nonromantical way), and I feel secure in giving myself to Jenn. Hell, I feel secure enough to allow my conversations w/ Jenn to be recorded for the comedic value, b/c whatever happens, Jenn will be in my corner and that tape will remain in her pocket.

Whatever happens, I know that I’ve learned a lot from A. I know that he is a wonderful person who has been generally pleasant to me. He can be adorable and gentle and fun and giving. But in being unwilling (unable?) to give me the one thing that I truly need right now (a sense of security) I am unable to function properly within the boundries of our frienship. It’s sad, and maybe I’m completely unreasonable to run away in this situation, but I can only assume that an unwillingness to say 6 little words (‘I'll be here for you tomorrow’) point to a lack of desire to actually be there for me tomorrow.

And if it’s only the coffee for two that is at risk, I would prefer to continue meeting amicable strangers at Starbucks.

2004-10-22T10:46:00.000-04:00

"city girl"

Shell this ASIR

2004-10-22T09:51:00.000-04:00

One of my favourite pastimes since I began my undergrad (and thus stopped researching undergrad degrees) has been to research grad programs. I love it. I love looking at the possibilities and course offerings.

Lately, on T's encouragement, I have been looking at journalism degrees (most of them aren't actually graduate degrees, so much as post-grad undergrad degrees, but I'm interested never the less, having always been someone who can identify problems but not always fix them).

However, today, I was back to my old love: International Relations. There are certain schools that I tend to go back to over and over again, but today, I thought I should see what else is out there. So I did a yahoo search and found a page of IR post-grad offerings. At the top of the list was the Amsterdam School of International Relations.

Brilliant. I mean, Holland would both please myself (as it is far enough away to feel like I've broken history again), and please my family (as I'm from Dutch heritage, and it has always pained my Grandfather to know that I have yet to learn his language or visit his land). Furthermore, my Mom and Dad would be so chuffed to know that I was visiting a place that held so many great memories for themselves and their dating days. And there's the added bonus of being able to stay w/ family. Much of my Grandfather's family still lives in Holland, and while I have met them all at various times at my parent's or grandparent's homes, I don't really know any of them that well, so it would be an exchange-type living arrangement were I to stay with them. All in all, I was pretty excited to open up the possibility of the Amsterdam School of IR.

Until I looked at their website.

Not only is the ASIR not for someone of my education/career level, there seems to be a fundamental error in their philosophy:

http://www.asir.nl/partners.html

JESUS!!! What reputable IR program can accept sponsorship from SHELL!!! Or does this school just overlook the tragedy of Nigeria! I realize that universities do rely on sponsorships to fund themselves, but Shell and IR. Please!!

(Or is it okay, b/c this is IR and not Peace and Conflict studies?)

Suggested Reading:
Wiwa, Ken. IN THE SHADOW OF A SAINT
Wiwa, Saro K. MONTH AND A DAY

The Big Bang

2004-10-21T15:46:00.000-04:00

I'm getting very close to believing in the Big Bang Theory. Nothing seems as logical and organized as it did yesterday. Look at the automobile. Humans created a haphazard car decades ago, and by the 70s, quantities of people were being killed by their own creation. So back to the drawing board. Decades later, we've vastly improved the safety of our cars, but alas, we're having another oil crisis, and our automobiles will evolve again, I'm sure.

(And while that was a rather sloppy argument put together between major work projects and oral injections of coffee, there are other aspects of humanity that lead me to believe that we might not necessarily be the creations I had always assumed that we were).

Look at the chemical make up of human beings. Experiencing a traumatic event can drastically change the chemical balance in a human's brain to the point where they are unrecognizable to themselves. And look at love and attraction; while we may tell ourselves over and over again of the impracticality of loving someone, just being in their presence can set off fireworks and have one's hair standing on end. It all seems so primal and so much like the scientific portrayal of the world that I'm beginning to lose my belief in grand fates and what is supposed to be.

Maybe there really isn't any judgment or right and wrong, and I should be as free to live as any other chemical creation in the universe. In turn, I should give up all notions of soul mates and fated encounters, and realize that the chemical high will be present again and again and again, so long as I'm open to it and willing to expand with the universe.

Tears: Beginning to End.

2004-10-20T22:09:00.000-04:00

Did you watch The West Wing tonight? How lovely that there is something good on television again. And how lovely that I can cry over frivolous script writing again. I guess I’m back to parts of myself. YAY!

Once Burnt, Twice Shy.

2004-10-17T21:38:00.000-04:00

You know, I am a city girl. There's no question about it, at 24 years old, I am a city girl. I know I haven't always been one, and I might not always be one, and right now there's still a part of me that is a 'townie'. In fact, I think that overall I would prefer to live in a quaint, little town surrounded by white picket fences, trees and fresh air; I see genuine value in a rural existence. But even if I were able to live in that town right now my spirit would remain a city city spirit, at least for a while. While I might someday adopt this rural lifestyle, today I have city beliefs and live a city lifestyle. I attend concerts, and covet good and different restaurants, and I thrive on change, stress, noise .

And, I don’t want to get married. I think that even if I were to meet my Mister Wonderful, I still wouldn’t want to marry him at this stage in my life. I would want to simply share our individual lives, and enjoy his company and be comfortable in knowing that he was in love with me and we were together to the exclusion of all others.

Yet, I know that marriage is something I will do in the future and would do now if I thought that it would make a relationship that I thought worth being in... better(?)... different(?)... work (?)...

But I don’t want to talk about marriage. I’m sick of hearing about it, and being confronted by it. Mainly, I’m sick of being asked about it: "When are you getting married?" STOP PRESSURING ME!!! "I don’t want your drug man!!" ;)

I want to indulge in this wonderful city life that I have. I am blessed. I have a comfortable apartment, food, music, independence, companionship, sex, sexuality, laughter. And I can go out my front door every morning with a purpose. I am able to support myself. There are people to talk to. New people with new perspectives every day. I can make acquaintances at the bus stop or at Starbucks, and be thoroughly entertained without having to become 'life long buddies' or even see them again if we have learned what we wanted to learn from each other in the first place. (How lovely and diversifying is that?!?)

I hate being in someone else’s control and having to pander to their every desire. I don’t expect or want someone to pander to all or even most of my desires. I just want someone who will be lovely to me all by himself. I don’t want someone to change for me – only be who he is. If I keep you in my life it means that I fell in love with you the second I looked into your eyes and in just being yourself I find you to be respectful of me and gentle with me.

Just please don’t burn me.

Garbage Picking Blond

2004-10-08T10:54:00.000-04:00

So, I was sitting at Scarborough Town Centre having lunch w/ T this week. Eating and chatting away. Subway -- 6 inch roast beef on harvest wheat, baked ruffles and a diet coke.

This woman passes by our table on her way to the garbage bin. She seemed pretty average: cardigan, backpack, bottle blond hair (growing out black, but no worse than Sarah Jessica Parker in Season Six of Sex in the City). As she pushed the bin open and started digging through the trash, I assumed she was looking for a retainer, so I turned away from my typical lunch-time entertainment (people watching) and went back to my sub and conversation w/ T.

Then, mid-sentence, T stops and hisses, "she just licked her fingers."

What?

"She just LICKED her fingers. She closed the bin and walked away licking her fingers."

No!

"Yes, I don't think she was looking for a retainer."

Turns out, she was looking for a meal.

She then moved to the garbage bin that was in my line of sight. Again, she pushed the door open, and started digging through the trash. She came out w/ a Styrofoam container which she opened. Once she finished chowing down on its contents, she went back in for more.

Well, at this point, I was totally turned off my own meal. But really, what is there to be done?

Obviously, the woman hadn't died her hair in a while, possibly so that she could feed herself (?). And apparently, she was rather hungry (when she left the bin in front of me, she moved to the other side of the food court to search for treasure in those bins). I felt bad. It's not like I am not aware that a large portion of the global population (not to mention the population of Toronto) is going hungry, but to watch someone dig through trash was a bit much. Especially when there was table after table w/ half eaten food sitting on it.

So, I got to thinking, were I unable to support myself, and completely hungry, how would I feed myself. I assume that I would skip the garbage route, and eat the food that hadn't yet been tossed into the filthy bins. And being the champagne liberal that I am, I currently make my donations to the united way, and purchase my homeless talk newspapers regularly. I assume that I would seek help from these organizations were I unable to fend for myself.

So, what brings someone to a level where they are unable to ask for help from non-profits, and are unable to see that there is "cleaner" food sitting out at tables all around them? What happened in the life of this woman that she would stop dying her hair and start garbage picking? And sadly, why doesn't she have someone in her life who would pick her up and sort her out?

I guess, with Thanksgiving just around the corner here in Canada, I'm grateful that I have a family that will never let me fall, a headstart in life that has brought me to a point where I will never go hungry, and a hair colour that never has to be died.

Praise be to God. ;)

Autumn to Winter

2004-10-04T18:36:00.000-04:00

I came home to the sound of someone peeing in my apartment.

No, the local rif-raff hadn't broken into my place for a pee break. And no, I wasn't "hearing things" (why do we use that expression?? I WAS hearing things, but there was something to hear. One of you, my faithful readers, has to explain that saying to me...).

It was the sound of the heater. Krikey! The heat has been turned on.

I don't know if I can deal with that this year. I don't want winter to come this year. I want to continue to wear my sandals, and flaunt my perfectly pedicured feet (I finally broke down and bought a professional foot file -- I can't seem to get out of the shower). I want to wear skirst w/out panty hose. I want the worry of sunscreen, not chapstick.

I'm wondering if there are jobs available in California.

However, that said, I must admit that most years I'm so terribly thrilled when autumn settles in on the city, and I know that the quiet nights of snowfall are just around the corner. I love the escape from the desperate heat. I love wearing sweaters and scarfs (scarves? that sounds like a silk scarve -- not a wool scarf). I suppose Toronto's mild summer has me in love with the idea of summer and in fear of colder weather. It will only be a matter of time before the coloured leaves and the sight of my breath have me once again in love with the Canadian seasons.

So, despite my heating (peeing) woes, I'm going to tighten the belt on my jacket, throw a scarf around my neck and walk through my neighbourhood until I'm convinced that autumn is okay.

"Crazies" is Politically Incorrect (I Get It). Now Read my Post

2004-09-30T13:59:00.000-04:00

The thing with living in a relatively large city, is that there seems to be more of every type of person. I mean, statistically, every city probably has the same percentage of crazies, but in a city like Toronto, this means that if 1% of the population is crazy, there are 30,000 crazies running around. As such, a Torontonian happens to come into contact with crazy people far more often than someone from a smaller community.

This means that I have a multitude of seemingly unbelievable stories in my repertoire. And not all to do with the mentally defunct members of society.

So, I was waiting in line at the pharmacy counter of my local Shoppers Drug Mart the other day. In front of me, a woman was just livid. She was upset about the recommendation the pharmacist had previously made for her. Supposedly, 6 days prior to this incident, the woman in question had told the pharmacist that she had a yeast infection and had asked what she should take. Armed with a 7 day course of Monistat, the woman went home.

6 days later she started abusing the pharmacist. "The Monistat that you gave me doesn't work!!" was her claim. "I've been using this medication for 6 days now, and I'm no better than I was before I started."

(Personally, at this point, I began to think that this woman probably had bacterial vaginosis, or some other down-there ailment. I was wrong.).

The woman continued on her with her verbal abuse of the pharmacist: "This is bullshit! I paid $20 for 7 days worth of useless pills."

(Pills?)

"I have choked down those damn horse pills for 6 days and I'm still itchy as hell."

BWAHAHAHAH!!!!! While stupidity must abound everywhere, I am so glad that I live in a city where I get to watch its manifestations on a daily basis.

(For the boys: Monistat is a vaginal insert. They are rather large tablets that are supposed to be put into a plunger-like apparatus and inserted into the vagina.)

Sex and the City is Soft Porn

2004-09-28T14:20:00.000-04:00

Or, that's what Ruth Ann thinks at least.

I on the other hand, believe that if there's an actual story line, it can't be considered porn, no matter how much sex is involved.

Blockbuster is my Drug Dealer

2004-09-27T12:22:00.000-04:00

It can't be more than 18 degrees Celsius in my office. I have put on an extra sweater and a pair of socks to try to keep warm. What I really need is a touque. And maybe a scarf.

What I really want is a nap. Flip! I'm tired. I have to make a concentrated effort to keep myself from nodding off. If I allow myself to close my eyes for even a moment, I find it unbelievably difficult to open them again.

I think I must take my lunch outside today. Sit in the sun and allow myself to doze. Perhaps such a lunch break will make the afternoon worth while. I am tempted to take the afternoon off, make up my hours another day. Yet, I fear that this desire stems more from my addiction than from my tiredness.

Yes, I am addicted to Sex in the City. It has surpassed my love of sleep as my greatest time passer. How I would love to lie on the couch this afternoon, wrapped in a blanket in front of the television. I will start the work week tomorrow, if only I could get one more dose, one more hit of Sex in the City.

Maybe then the chills and exhaustion would diminish...

When You Wish Upon a Falling Star

2004-09-26T20:40:00.000-04:00

I drove to Elmira Saturday night from Chatham. I had been to my cousin Kerry's wedding. I left at 8pm -- there was only so much "fun" that I wanted to have, I guess. It's not that I wasn't having fun, or that I didn't think that I would have more fun were I to stay -- I just wanted to be alone, and have a good sleep and a shower and be sober.

On the way home I saw the most amazing shooting star. It fell in a line that seemed to be perpendicular to the earth (is that even possible??). Straight down in front of me. It was bright and it seemed unreal. When it finally died out, I quickly wished to be "happy, safe and healthy." It was the best I could do under the circumstances. I was dumbfounded by its intensity and had to scramble to find words.

I guess I think my wish is telling though. I often feel that life isn't worth living. That this pursuit is hollow and endless and insignificant. Until that point in my drive, I had been craving cigarettes (which I am again desperate for tonight), death (either by a quick car accident or a drawn out case of cervical cancer) and a large sum of money to be dropped in my lap. And not necessarily in that order. How did I wind up suddenly demanding that the fates give me happiness, safety and health??

And how could I, at 24 years of age, still believe that happiness can come from someone/thing other than myself. I am well aware, I have been for years, that I am the only person who can find my own happiness. I know that it is a choice to be happy. Thinking about it now, I guess I think that health and safety are largely choices as well, at least to a point. I know that choosing to smoke or eat junk food or not exercise lead to ill health. And I know that wearing a seatbelt and locking my doors keep me safe. Obviously there are vast outside factors that can affect health and safety (like rapists and MS), but even in the event of ill health and safety, happiness can still be chosen.

Yet, believing all this, I still wished for happiness upon a shooting star.

I went out for dinner with my family tonight (sans Rob, but is he really family to me at this point?). My father was pissy and I was aggressive. Somehow, I managed to cram in all of my thoughts on grad schools, job searching and fleeing to South Africa over one salad. Those are the options now. I think I have to apply myself to all three of these areas and see where the fates take me.

Today, I feel poised to start beginning my life. I want to start gathering references for grad school, filling out applications to American, Canadian and South African Universities. I want to start sending out resumes on a daily basis to jobs that would fulfill me spiritually and intellectually (as well as financially). I want to make sure that if all else fails, I can create a space for myself in a country where I am challenged and content. One thing is for sure: I won't be happy until I make a move from where I am now. I suddenly seem to have the energy to put myself out there and make a change for the better.

Maybe the fates can read between the lines. And if they're reading this: thanks for the energy -- thanks for the push towards the happiness I asked for.

Needing to Want

2004-09-21T20:18:00.000-04:00

This evening, I started thinking about what I would do with my life if I didn't have to work. I wondered if what it is we would do, is what we should do for a living. Mom, for instance, would garden day in and day out if she didn't have to go to work every day (and clean b/c, let's face it, mom is a Naughta through and through) . I can't help but wonder if maybe that is what mom should do with her days, what she should make a living at. Wouldn't that make her truly happy as well as cared for?

As I pondered Mom's garden, I also wondered if that is what Mom truly was. Was Mom a gardner? If that was how she wanted to live her life, doesn't that say more about her spirit than what she was actually doing with it? If that's the case, should we be judged more by the contents of our souls than by our actions? And do we, in our legal system, in some sense enforce this idea? That a murderer, who shows remorse, and acknowldges the immorality of his actions and displays disgust for them, is given a lesser sentence (or shown leniency) as compared to a murder who does not display that same remorse?

But isn't that a dangerous path to go down? The only eyes through which to judge are our senses. While imperfect, yes, by basing reality on the sight, sound, smell, feel and taste of an event, is this not the closest to correct that we have? We have no viable means of measuring the contents of one's thoughts or soul, b/c the only ways available at this time in history to measure one's thoughts is by having the subject as an interpretor of the evidence, thus able to filter and change the evidence in question...

It's now 8:18 PM, and I've already contemplated myself into a tire... I fear I am getting old and may have spent too much time living the life that I needed to instead of the life that I have wanted.

It's Just Bad Timing, That's All

2004-09-19T12:21:00.000-04:00

I look bruised this morning. I guess I feel it too. Sometimes I think that I need to get out of this city. The life I lead here is not really for me. It's not healthy, and neither am I.

I'm brushing my hair, trying to coax myself to life. My eyeshadow this morning is dark, in hopes that it will somehow hide the dark bags under my eyes. Sleep was very heady last night. All dreams between waking.

I did dream of a new Tim Horton's beverage. It was a green juice (kiwi?) with big strawberries floating in it. (Jesus. I don't have coffee just one day, and I start dreaming of Timmy's). The rest of my dreams were of running (through a museum, from someone I didn't ever see) and moving too fast (on a bike with brakes that I just couldn't figure out). Funny -- when I'm awake I feel that I'm moving too slow.

I scoured the government websites this morning. Trying to find a comfortable solution to my career dilemmas. Really, going back to T did seem like such a great solution at the end of school. It involved a small move and returning to a comfortable work environment. It seemed to mean that I could get healthy and deal with the hell that was Trinity. Now I just feel trapped and uninspired. I desperately need to fill my life with something more than what I have been. So many empty relationships and a fruitless job seem to perpetuate this outlandish Toronto lifestyle which inevitably leads to these feelings of standing still, feelings of uselessness.

My friends try to tell me that I'm young. That 24 is not the time when anyone needs to be on the right path, or at the end point. But I do need to find something more. Perhaps it will soon be time to really break out and stop being so fucking lazy. Maybe it will soon be time to broaden the search internationally or academically and suck up the work that will result. Maybe it will soon be time to stop punishing myself for S's sins and start living the life I was born to.