More Than a Few of My Favourite Things

Sleeping with the Enemy

2010-10-16T14:21:00.005-06:00

Kyle and I have a big spoon/little spoon arrangement that requires both of us to sleep on our right sides. Last week, Kyle hurt his ribs at soccer and asked if we could switch sides of the bed so that he could lay on his uninjured left side.

Me nattering away:
Okay.
We can switch.
But I don't want to be close to the alarm clock. The light keeps me awake.
You know what I read? Most people sleep on their right sides and scientists think that it's because sleeping on your right puts less strain on your heart.
Also, you know how people have a "good side" and a "bad side" of their face? I heard somewhere that the bad or ugly side of your face is the one that you squish all night while sleeping on your side.

Kyle interrupting:
So you mainly sleep on your stomach?

Me continuing to natter:
No actually, I prefer to sleep on my side....

HEY!

Kyle kills himself laughing while Iadminister the beats.

Weird Science

2010-08-05T10:25:00.008-06:00

While I was doing my master's degree, I spent a lot of time searching for articles and books in various university libraries. One day in the medical library, I was delighted to find a whole three-foot shelf filled with bound copies of the academic journal "Diseases in Poultry". It blew my mind that there are people out there who devote their working lives to the research of chicken sickness.

My experience in graduate school is that there are a lot of people in academia who become fascinated with a very specific topic and dive deeply into it. More deeply than anyone else could possibly care to go. At research presentations, I usually followed for the first five minutes after which time I blanked out and began hatching various escape plans.

Some people sneer at academics and their whole-hearted pursuit of one microscopic corner of the world. Others resent government money devoted to research, especially research that seems impractical or disconnected from daily life. While I understand these reactions, I love to know that there people who are passionately pursuing knowledge. I appreciate that our society supports the love of learning and diving deeply. And I especially love the ridiculous outcomes...

Each year, Harvard gives out Ig Nobel Prizes, awards for bizarre and funny research. In 2009, prizes were awarded for the following:
Veterinary medicine prize - cows with names give more milk than cows without names
Peace prize - empty beer bottles make better weapons than full ones, being more likely to fracture skulls in bar brawls
Chemistry prize - researchers found a way to make diamonds from tequila
Physics prize - physicists outlined the reasons that pregnant women don't tip over
Biology prize - researchers discovered that kitchen waste can be reduced to 90% of it's weight by exposing it to the bacteria in panda poop
Public health prize - the invention of a bra that in case of emergency, can be converted into two protective face masks, one for the now braless woman and another for a needy bystander. Below is a photo of the inventor accepting her Ig Nobel prize.

At least one wish came true

2010-01-11T19:51:00.000-07:00

Someone at work asked me to describe Kyle. Among with many positive adjectives, I used the word "unsentimental" to describe him.

This past summer, we attended the wedding of a lovely couple. After signing the guest book, we were directed to a table that was covered in rocks and sparkly pens. The couple wanted every guest to be involved in the ceremony and had requested that each person write a wish or prayer for the couple on a stone. At a later point in the ceremony, every guest would walk toward the blissful couple and place his or her rock in a vase.

I felt some pressure as considered how I would distill my hopes for them into one power-house of a word. I wanted my word to be unique, meaningful, and not cheesy. I can't remember now but I think that after much deliberation, I settled on "laughter". My choice was disappointingly cheesy and not very unique, considering the fact that a person can buy stones with gold etching of this word in any new-agey bookstore or card shop.

Throughout my agonizing search for the prefect word that would express my soul, I couldn't help but notice that Kyle had quickly finished writing on his stone. Had he had some kind of epiphany? Was writing on rocks the secret key to Kyle's self-expression?

I asked to see his stone and when he handed it over, read the following:

Many rocks

Year of the manatee

2010-01-01T13:21:00.014-07:00

I hope all of you had a peace and joy-filled holiday. Kyle and I had a variety of delicious Christmas dinners with many lovely people - Dec 23 stew with Kyle's family, Christmas-eve goose with Kyle's cousins, Christmas day turkey with my clan, and another fabulous boxing day pizza party/80s dance-off at Murray's house.

My family has become very laid-back about presents, which I appreciate immensely. The new rule is that you don't have to buy anybody a present unless you see something that you really want to get for them. And if you get a present from somebody you don't need to reciprocate.

This year my present from my parents was this -

Rosa the Manatee - An Undersea Adventure: a plush Manatee with cassette tape. It totally cracks me up.The box has a very 1990s liberal feel - allowing consumers to sleep well at night knowing that in addition to buying a plush toy, they have donated money that will "directly help in protecting a manatee and his habitat from endangerment". I haven't listened to the tape yet but I assume it outlines Rosa's idyllic aquatic life as it is interrupted by heinous motor boat propellers. My mom says she found it in a bargain bin somewhere a few years ago.

This morning I stumbled upon a funny post outlining "Ten Words You Need to Stop Misspelling" . What better way is there to start the New Year than with a little grammatical self-improvement? And much to my delight, the author used a manatee to illustrate proper use of it's/its. (click on the picture to enlarge)

Is it over before it begins?

2009-12-13T11:51:00.005-07:00

December 6-18, 2009, world leaders and celebrities alike will be meeting in Denmark for the Copenhagen Climate Summit. The goal is to get together to create the Copenhagen protocol - a statement of intent about climate change. Unlike Kyoto, this will not be a "binding agreement".

In my eyes, it's probably a good thing that Canada won't be making any promises that will go unkept. However, after reading this article in the London Telegraph, I think the arrival in Copenhagen makes a more powerful statement of intent than will any document produced at this summit.

The Copenhagen airport is expecting up to 140 private jets during the peak arrival period alone. The airport is so far over its capacity that these planes will have to drop off their passengers and then go park at other Danish and Swedish airports before returning to pick up their VIP passengers.

Car rental companies are having a difficult time supplying enough limousines to meet the demand of those attending the climate summit. There will be over 1200 limos rented over the week. According to rental company manager Majken Friss Jorgensen, "We haven't got enough limos in the country to fulfil the demand. We're having to drive them in hundreds of miles from Germany and Sweden."

Yikes.

Let's give this another go...

2009-12-06T21:58:00.003-07:00

Over the past months, I've often wondered if I should resurrect the old blog. I miss having a creative outlet and connecting with people this way.

Last week, I dreamt that an old acquaintance angrily told me I should keep blogging. That has motivated me to give it a shot. That same night, I also dreamt that I had pooped in a snow globe...which goes to say that I probably shouldn't take this whole dream-messages thing too seriously.

For those of you who still have links to this blog on your own websites, thanks for your faithful optimism.

Stay tuned...

Confession

2009-03-24T22:00:00.005-06:00

Last Thursday, I wore another new shirt without washing it. But don't despair. Even though I don't heed my own advice, I do have the capacity to learn. I sniffed the armpits before I put it on.

Last night I saw a TV news clip about how people should always wash new garments because some of them have been treated with the chemical formaldehyde. Formaldehyde is connected with increased risk of cancer. Shoot.

In non-grubbiness-related news, I spotted some Canada geese hanging out on the river today. Even though they terrify me, Canada geese are a hopeful indicator of spring. Beside the geese there was a flock of smaller birds sleeping on the ice. At first I thought they were ducks and I was super pumped. However, upon closer inspection they turned out to be seagulls...which are not associated with spring but are just a sign of near-by dumpsters.

Open Letter 2

2009-03-17T18:11:00.006-06:00

Dear Person Who Tried on My Shirt Before I Bought It,
Even without meeting you, I know we share some things in common. We both shop at Ricki's and we were both drawn to the fun bright-green work shirt. We both tried on the shirt but for some reason, you didn't buy it. Too big? Too green? Too awesome?

Unlike you, I decided to buy the shirt and take it home. Today is St. Patrick's Day. I wanted to get into the spirit of the day by wearing my new green shirt. Unfortunately, I hadn't taken the time to wash it. I know I should have washed it. I know I am gross.

As I was putting on the shirt, I thought about the creepy factory chemicals and dyes that would be riding around on my skin all day. What I didn't think about was the other thing that we now have in common - smelling of your body odour.

At work, when I lifted my elbow to pour my cup of coffee, I caught a whiff of B. O. I quickly looked around to spot the offender. Little did I know, the offender was not in the room. A few smelly wafts later, I figured out that the smell was coming from me. I was confused, as I distinctly remembered applying antiperspirant only an hour earlier.

After some covert underarm investigation, I realized that the offending odour was not emanating from my armpits but from my shirt. My awesome new green shirt. Ugh! All day I have walked around smelling of your B.O.. I spent my working hours holding my arms close to my body to prevent your essence from ascending into the nostrils of my coworkers.

Person Who Tried on My Shirt Before I Bought It, you made me keenly aware of the value of lesson I learned as a young child. I should always, ALWAYS wash my clothes before wearing them.

The Lady

2009-01-18T12:44:00.016-07:00

I celebrated my birthday last week. I turned 28 and had a lovely day. Kyle and I went out for dinner at La Chaumiere, a french restaurant on 17th ave. I have trouble with high-class dining experiences. My trouble is that I am not very classy and consequently, quite awkward.

Awkward moment number one:
We enter the restaurant and are greeted by the Parisian maitre d'. Let's call him Jacques. Jacques consistently addresses me as "the lady".
Jacques reaches for my coat but I quickly wriggle out of it by my own power. Not missing a beat, Jacques extends his right hand to receive my coat and give me my coat check ticket. Not understanding what's going on, I reach for the coat hanger in Jacques' left hand. After an awkward tussle, I realize that a lady lets a gentleman hang her coat for her.

Awkward moment number two:
Jacques leads us into the dining room. He pulls out Kyle's chair for him. Seeing an opportunity to avoid having my chair managed for me, I quickly pull mine out and poise myself to sit down. Jacques panics (in a very calm, classy way). He abandons Kyle mid-sit and quickly turns to my chair, pushing it into my legs as I flop down. Our timing is poor and my chair is about 12 inches away from the table. Without standing up, I shuffle my chair toward my plate. A lady does not stand up to move her own chair.

Awkward moment number three:
Before we see our menus, Jacques asks if we would like an "aperitif".
I request a glass of wine. Does that even count as an aperitif? He asks me what kind of wine I would like. Flustered, I ask, "Do you have a house red?". I know they probably don't, but I can't remember the names of any wines. I'm buying time. Jacques asks, "What type of grapes do you like?". I'm tempted to say, "red ones" but hold myself back. A lady does not engage in smart-assery. I flash him a plebian smile and ask him to choose for me.

Awkward moment number four:
The meal consists of a beautiful blue cheese/strawberry salad and beef tenderloin. We finish with a gorgeous creme brulee. As we exit the restaurant, I find my coat ticket and hand it to Jacques. This round, I know what's coming. The lady is prepared. I have always hated having a man hold my coat open for me but Jacques and his fine manners have won me over. Jacques holds out my coat. I twist my head behind me so that I can find my coat sleeves without groping Jacques. After a few misses, I successfully guide my arms through the arm holes and exit the building, biding Jacques a good night.

Some final Christmas cheer

2008-12-26T00:50:00.003-07:00

Merry Christmas

2008-12-24T11:32:00.006-07:00

I am in an Advent state of mind. I'm in a season of waiting, a season of longing, a season of wondering when Jesus will show up. One of my most loved Christmas songs has always been "O Come O Come Emmanuel" and I have been resonating with it these past weeks.

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

I feel alone as I mourn my old faith - a faith that was more certain, more well-defined, more at home in the church. I feel captive to my uncertainty as I wait on my new faith to take shape and grow roots. I have been waiting for Jesus and looking for him, fearing that he might never appear in the ways he used to.

At the entrance to my work, there is an agency sign sheltered by a tall peaked wooden structure. To decorate for Christmas, a large star was placed on top of the shelter, making it reminiscent of a manger. Over the past month, I have been mindful of this symbol every morning when I drive into work - pointing me to where Jesus can be found. The God of the broken-hearted is with the struggling kids I work with. When I join with them, I find Jesus.

In places and situations that cause me to wonder where God is, I am privileged to be able to make him apparent as I bring my own compassion, humour and help. I've found that God feels nearer when I am thankful. I have many things to be thankful for.

My hope for myself and for you is that this will be a season in which we can hold the tension between longing and expectant rejoicing. A season in which we can hope for something greater, take delight in the good in our lives, and bring blessing to the lives of others.

re⋅joice

1.	to be glad; take delight (often fol. by in): to rejoice in another's happiness.

2.	to make joyful; gladden: a song to rejoice the heart.

Fifiths and Fourths

2008-12-21T16:40:00.007-07:00

I've been tagged by Avey to put up the fifth photo in my fifth folder. Here it is:

This photo was taken on my 26th birthday. Kyle and I were attending the wedding reception of one of my co-workers. It was the most expensive event I have ever attended. The wedding was held on four different levels of an art gallery. We started at the top level with drinks and hors d'oeuvres, third for dinner, and second for cappuccino and chocolate fountain. It was one of those events where I'm unsure as to which fork I should use at what time. Thankfully, the people we sat with were funny and laid back Newfies. When served a lime sorbet to cleanse our palates between courses, Newfie Man complained that his ice cream was just a "limey ice ball".

Just for fun, here is the fourth photo in our fourth folder. It's pretty out of focus:

This was taken two Christmases ago in Florida. There was a lizard hiding behind the washing machine in our condo. Kent's girlfriend and I chased it out, trapped it in an ice bucket and put it outside. This photo was taken as we were trying to build a sort of gateway to force him into the bucket. I loved him.

If they'll play along, I'm tagging my sisters Amisha and Heather.

For those hard to reach places

2008-12-20T20:08:00.007-07:00

After a long hiatus in blogging I often feel like I need something spectacular to share. I don't have any crazy adventures to write of but I did recently receive a very quirky gift.

When I was in England, my friend told me about pope-soap-on-a-rope. From the moment I learned of the product, I wished for one. A couple of weeks ago, Karen and Greg left their dog Lhotse (or as Kyle calls her, Bleeder) with us again for a weekend. When they returned from Seattle, they brought me this hand-shaped soap-on-a-rope.

Awesome.

The Rules

2008-11-24T21:33:00.014-07:00

Last week I stumbled upon a website that I have been enjoying tremendously. It's called 1001 rules for my unborn son. It's an ongoing project filled with great advice that made me pause, smile, and read until I'd gone through them all (304 as of today).

I even employed one of the rules this last week at my company Christmas party- "Rule 243. There is no need to tell anyone you are leaving the bar (or in my case, the party). It's called an Irish Goodbye. And it comes in handy."

Here are a few more of my favourites:

258. No vanity license plates.

245. Look people in the eye when you thank the m, especially waiters.

242. Hang artwork at eye-level.

235. When singing karaoke, choose a song within your range.

232. There is exactly one place where it is acceptable to wear gym clothes.

168. Be cool to the younger kids. Reputations are built over a lifetime.

148. When handling a frog, be gentle.

125. A t-shirt is neither a philosophy nor an advertisement. It’s a shirt. Wear it plain.

86. Never criticize a book, play, or film unless you have read or seen it yourself.

14. Men with facial hair have something to hide.

One of my not-so-favourite things

2008-11-20T20:16:00.004-07:00

When people ask me what I do, I usually tell them I'm a psychologist. This isn't technically true yet but it's the easiest way to explain what I do.

My least favourite response is: Are you analyzing me right now?

What am I supposed to say to that? That's just awkward.

I have two requests, internet.
First - give me some funny one-liners I could respond with.
Second - write a comment about the most frequent/funny/annoying response when people learn your vocation or hobby.

Trouble from above

2008-11-12T20:07:00.004-07:00

Monday night I was sitting at my desk writing a court report when I heard a strange tapping noise above my head. I looked up, praying there weren't mice in the ceiling. In an instant, water was dripping like crazy onto my desk.

I ran up to the staff suite and found a spare garbage can to catch the water. While I waited for the on-call maintenance guy, I climbed atop my desk with the intent of removing the already water-stained ceiling tile before it was completely soaked. As I was pushing the tile, an object started slipping toward me from inside the ceiling. I scrambled to get out of the way as a giant blue mop bucket plummeted toward my head. Hm...I'm guessing that the ceiling leak might be an on-going problem.

Nun Watch Update: After a very long dry spell, I saw three nuns this evening while walking to the University with Kyle. They were all wearing white winter jackets to match their habits.

Adventures in dog sitting

2008-11-02T09:38:00.011-07:00

Saturday 12 pm
Lhotse is the lovely dog of our friends Karen and Greg, who are in Europe for two weeks. We are taking care of her for the second week of their trip. Kyle and I drive to Taco Time to pick up Lhotse from her first set of dog-sitters.
Jamie: Is there anything we should know before we take her home?
Other dog sitters: No. Not really. She will pretend to be chewing her bone on the floor while sneakily destroying your carpet. Watch out.
Jamie: Okay. I can handle that.

Saturday 2 pm
Kyle and I are in the off-leash park, walking Lhotse and our dog Chaz.
Jamie: Lhotse's butt looks weird.
Kyle: Yeah?
Jamie: It looks like she has balls. Is that normal?
Kyle: I don't know. I've never had a girl dog.
Jamie: Me neither.

Saturday 5 pm
Kyle and I are looking out the kitchen window, watching the dogs in the back yard.
Kyle: Chaz is still humping Lhotse. Why is he being such a tool?
Jamie: They've been going at it forever. They need to take a break.
Kyle: Maybe I should take Chaz back to my parents' house.
Jamie: Yeah, he can't keep this up. He's an old man and needs to rest.

Sunday 2 am
I'm awoken in the middle of the night. I hear Lhotse making weird noises.
Jamie: Kyle, get up. Somethings going on with the dog.
Kyle stumbles out of bed and into the kitchen. From bed I can hear him.
Kyle: Lhotse, are you okay? You're hurt. Where are you bleeding from?
Kyle: *!$^&*
Jamie: What? What's wrong?
Kyle: Come check this out. See where she's bleeding from.
I wander into the kitchen to see blood all over the kitchen floor, emanating the area of Lhotse that had earlier appeared to be her balls. She's in heat.

Sunday 1pm
Kyle returns from walking Lhotse.
Kyle: I had her in the off-leash park but we came to a big group of dogs and three of them started coming after her, sniffing aggressively. I had to put her on her leash and take off.
Jamie: Yeah, maybe we shouldn't take her to the off-leash park anymore. The last thing I want to tell Karen and Greg when they get back is that their dog was gang-banged at the park.

Sunday, 3pm
Lhotse is desperately lonely and crying on the back porch.
Jamie: Maybe we should let her in. She's really sad. What if we block off the kitchen and let her stay in there?
Lhotse runs in, leaping with joy as we're reunited after two long hours apart. Her tail is wagging like crazy, acting acting much like a propeller and spraying drops of blood everywhere.

After cleaning up the mess, we become the Macgyvers of dog sitting. Our problems are solved with the creative use of simple household objects - an old pair of underwear, a pad, some scissors (for a tail hole), a safety pin, and some duct tape.

Hammacher Time!

2008-10-21T20:12:00.012-06:00

Hammacher Schlemmer came in the mail last week. Last year, I was angered by all of the catalogues we receive now that Kyle's contact information has been "rented". This year I got excited when I saw Hammacher Schlemmer because I knew that I could use it to get Kyle going. I laid in bed one night reading aloud to Kyle the descriptions of my favourite Hammacher Schelmmer treasures. I laughed out loud when Kyle rewarded me with an emphatic, "I wish there was some way I could punish that company!"

One of my favourites was the Only Stainless Steel Wallet. This beauty is woven with 25,000 steel threads. Thankfully, it is resistant to corrosive materials such as salts, acids, and seawater. It is the perfect gift for your elderly loved-one who fears identity theft - "the tightly woven steel also passively resists radio-frequency hacking--the latest identity theft technique that attempts to scan newer credit cards." Identity thieves are now scanning people's pockets? Whoa! The problem of identity thievery is much worse than I thought. Peace of mind for only $89.99

With the Keep your Distance Bug Vacuum, you too can kill bugs from a distance of up to two feet. "The lightweight plastic design allows complete control while chasing flying insects." It's only $49.99! If I had this little lovely, I could avoid picking up crunchy bug bodies without making Chaz eat them off the floor.

One of the most impressive items was the 14 M.P.H. Cooler. For those of us who live and think metric, that's the 22.53 km/h cooler. It is the world's only rideable three-wheeled cooler. You can travel almost 25km on a single charge, carrying up to 24 pop cans and 9 pounds of ice. Apparently, it handles similarly to a golf cart but has a handy cup-holder located between the drivers' knees. This can be yours for the low, low price of 499.95 US.

Just in time for Christmas, Hammacher Schlemmer sends out the catalogue in which you can find the gift for the person who has everything. Kyle and I are people who have everything...more than everything we want and need. Though it's easy to laugh at the useless Hammacher Schlemmer gifts, my consumption is only a shade less ridiculous. I find Christmas gifts stressful - I get anxious about giving people things they like and feel guilty when I receive things I don't want. For the past few years, our families have gone Grinch-style and decided not to do gifts. Avey has included some great alternatives from World Vision on her blog. Oxfam and Samaritan's Purse have other fun Christmas donation catalogues you may enjoy.

PB Slices

2008-10-05T19:40:00.005-06:00

A friend of mine once told me that the secret to successfully marketing a new product is to appeal to the customer's laziness. All you have to do is create a product that will eliminate a simple but mildly annoying task. People will be all over that.

Example: bags of shredded cheese. Is it really that hard to shred your own cheese? No... But I'm still occasionally tempted to lay down six dollars so that I can just pull shredded taco-spiced cheddar out of my fridge on a whim.

The inventor of this product has gone too far. Much too far. The P. B. Slices web site actually says "PB Slices makes peanut butter easy to eat."Hmm...what a conundrum. Easy to eat but difficult to peel. I'm also guessing it's difficult to digest and eliminate from the body. I think I'll choose to go to the massive effort of fighting open a jar, wrestling the peanut butter out with a knife and tearing up my bread as I try to spread it.

Taking it to the streets!

2008-09-30T19:15:00.004-06:00

I have noticed an alarming trend on Calgary roads. Fewer people are giving the wave.

People, don't give up the wave! It's a friendly necessity of the road. I make sure to wave extra enthusiastically whenever someone lets me in front of them. I even give a wave when the person might not have intended to let me in.

The sinster side of my love of the wave is that it makes me smoulder with anger when I let someone in and they don't acknolwedge me. I have a friend who used to honk at people, tailgate them, and give them the finger when they didn't wave after being let in. It sounds crazy but I can totally understand that reaction.

Fiscal management

2008-09-14T13:38:00.013-06:00

Yesterday I was cleaning our room. Behind my dresser I happened upon a grocery bag filled with about a hundred receipts from several years ago.

...

There are lots of things to love about Kyle but one thing that drives me crazy is his habit of squirreling away EVERY RECEIPT HE'S EVER GOTTEN. (Conversely, it drives Kyle crazy that I never keep my receipts and have no idea what happens to them.)

.....

Kyle's receipt collection is not just limited to the grocery bag behind my dresser. There are surprise receipt stashes all over the house - stuffed into bowls, hiding in envelopes, crammed into cupboards.

In his defense, that grocery bag of receipts could come in handy should we ever decide to return those bananas we bought in April 2003.

Hasidic Rain

2008-09-09T21:29:00.009-06:00

On my way home from work, I drive past the Calgary Jewish Centre. Twice now, I have been very excited to see an Orthodox Jewish man standing at the corner waiting to cross the street. That's right. It's not just about nuns anymore. I have expanded my sectarian excitement.

When Kyle and I went to New York in the spring, I was really interested in the Orthodox Jews we saw. On our flight back from Rome to New York, our plane was filled with Orthodox Jews returning home from Jerusalem for Passover. I sat beside one young Jewish guy on the plane and wanted to ask him a million questions. He, however, just wanted to sit with his lap top and read a million of his old emails so I left him alone. Okay - truthfully, I also read his old emails.

Orthodox Judaism is unlike many cultures and faiths in which women bear the burden of maintaining culture with their appearance. In Orthodox Judaism, it is men whose appearance is more distinctive. Women are expected to dress modestly and married women often cover their heads for modesty. Many women wear a scarf to cover their hair. However, less conservative married women cover their heads with a sheitel , or a wig. I was delighted to learn that there is such a thing as a kosher wig - one that is guaranteed to not be made with hair originating from idolatrous rituals.

On the plane and in the airport, I was looking all around me to spot women wearing sheitels. It wasn't an easy game because their wigs were such good quality. I have to admit that as I played my sheitel spotting game, I felt a bit puzzled by the use of a wig as a head covering. The women's sheitels were often very stylish and looked just like natural hair. Actually, after two days in transit their sheitels looked much better than my dirty mop. I was eventually informed that the purpose of covering a married Jewish woman's hair is to keep her natural hair private and reserved for her husband's eyes only.

So there you have it - some info about Orthodox Judaism inspired by my commute in Calgary.

Love that Thom York!

2008-08-24T22:53:00.012-06:00

I got my first Radiohead album when I was sixteen, having asked for it as an Easter gift. When I got the album, I had just broken my leg skiing and was in a cast up to my hip. Because I couldn't climb the stairs, my dad moved my mattress and stereo into the living room. I spent a couple of weeks in bed in the living room, doped up on Tylenol 3, listening to Radiohead's album The Bends and reading every Margaret Atwood book my mom found in the Grande Prairie Public Library. I couldn't shower and my mom had to wash my hair in the kitchen sink.

It was a weird time but the music was fantastic.

Even since then, I have been hooked on Radiohead. Their tunes are the soundtrack to a lot of wonderful (and of course, angst-ridden) memories. Last week, Kyle and I went to Vancouver to see them play live. I have wanted to see them for ages and was not disappointed. They were incredible live and even though we were soaked with rain, I was absolutely over the moon at the concert.

A few months ago when I was planning this trip, I booked a "hotel room" at UBC. Our plan was to splurge on a hotel room after a few days of camping on the way to Vancouver. The photos I saw on the internet looked pretty good. Spartan, but good. In person, it was a horrible, tiny, sweltering dorm room. It was 20 degrees outside and the thermostat in the room had maxed out at 30. When we walked in, Kyle said, "This is why you should do more research into these things."

Figuring we'd be better off sleeping in our car, we turned on our heels and got our money back. After phoning five hotels with no vacancy, we decided to drive down Broadway and stop at the first hotel we saw.

Inside the hotel, the receptionist asked, "What's your budget? We have one room left but it's the Executive Suite". While Kyle and I paused and looked at each other, she must have been moved to pity by our post camping greasiness and backpacks. She offered us the best room in the hotel for only $80 dollars more than we would have paid for our awful dorm room. It was beautiful with two bathrooms, kitchen, living room, and a lovely view of downtown.

Aside from when we locked our keys in the car in Golden on the 10-hour trip home, we had an absolutely fantastic trip.

Patriotic scrunchies = gold!

2008-08-13T22:56:00.020-06:00

I've spent more than a few hours this week watching the Olympics and have been left with some burning questions regarding women's gymnastics.

1. Did the Olympic Committee proclaim an edict requiring female gymnasts wear a scrunchy?

2. Must regulation scrunchies be co-ordinated with said gymnast's national flag?

3. Is there a relationship between bringin' it scrunchy style and Olympic glory?

I've done some intensive on-line research and found compelling evidence indicating that the answer to these questions is yes.

I Heart Bowness

2008-08-07T19:42:00.006-06:00

Kyle and I live not too far from the neighbourhood Bowness. I like Bowness. Bowness has a dodgy small town feel - with a lovely park along the river, a cool bike shop, a trendy breakfast joint, cute little houses from the 1950s, and a plethora of seedy apartment buildings with old mattresses on the balconies.

Sometimes Kyle and I drive to the Safeway in Bowness to do our grocery shopping (where guys in the parking lot sometimes try to sell you art made with sharpie pen). Outside Safeway, there is a tiny patch of spruce trees dividing the parking lot from busy 16th ave. Last week as I was hauling the groceries back to our car, I spotted a pregnancy test mixed in with the wood chips beneath the trees. Yikes. I didn't get close enough to the test to see the result but I sure am crossing my fingers and hoping the best for the woman who took a pregnancy test in the Safeway parking lot.

And we're back!

2008-08-03T22:13:00.008-06:00

As you may have noticed, I took a bit of a hiatus from blogging. This whole employment thing has really been cutting into my internet exploring.

I've been enjoying my job very much. I have always had the blessing of finding wonderful mentors wherever I go and my new workplace is no exception. The psychologists there are brilliant, passionate, and have been teaching me tons. I could say that I love learning but that wouldn't be entirely true. What I really love is being awesome at things. Unfortunately for my ego, there is a lot of learning that must take place before I can be anywhere near awesome at my job. So in the mean time, I'll endure the awkwardness of feeling fraudulent, bumbling my way through daily tasks and asking obvious questions.

Aside from working, I've been walking barefoot, eating ice cream, hanging out with family, going to barbecues, sleeping without blankets, having slushy drinks on patios, playing with our dog at the river, and taking in local festivals. Last weekend we had a great time at the Folk Fest. I'm posting the song Imitosis by Andrew Bird who played on Friday night. He was absolutely wonderful.

Love languages - as learned in a Romanian orphanage

2008-07-07T19:06:00.021-06:00

Kyle is drying his hands in the kitchen after preparing supper. I walk toward him with my arms outstretched for a hug. Kyle runs away into the living room.

Me: Hey, I want a hug.
Kyle: No.
Me: I need loving touch.
Kyle: Okay, fine. (pokes my calf with his socked foot) There you go.
Me: That is not loving touch.
Kyle: If I'm willing to touch you, that means it's loving.

Because the Highland Fling doesn't count

2008-06-28T20:14:00.011-06:00

A while ago, Kyle's mom asked me which sport I would most like to be good at. Honestly, if I could choose another talent to have in this life, it would have nothing to do with conventional sports. I would choose to dance.

Each summer, I watch "So You Think You Can Dance." In past years, I have taken great joy in the amazing talent on this show. When I watch, I sit on the couch smiling, twitching, and wishing I could express myself and create something meaningful with the movement of my body. Unfortunately, I cannot. Once, while dancing at a wedding, Kyle informed me that partnering with me was like pushing a side of beef around on the dance floor.

Oh yeah? Is that so? Would a side of beef keep trying to take the lead? No, I didn't think so!

Below is a clip of a contestant who can do a fantastic robot.

Moving Along

2008-06-18T20:46:00.008-06:00

There has been a lot going on the past little while. Kyle and I both convocated last week. Even though the ceremonies can be painfully long, I really enjoyed my convocation. In addition to having my parents in town, I was able to convocate with two dear friends from my programme and I got to wear a Master's robe with crazy bat sleeves. Even though I'll miss being a student and was sorry to say goodbye to the UofC, it feels great to be finished. Convocation was significant for me because it marked the accomplishment of something I have wanted since high school and have worked hard for.

The morning of my convocation, I received a job offer from a local agency. After taking the weekend to think and pray about the position, I accepted it and threw myself headlong into my new grown-up life. With only two days under my belt, I think I made the right decision. The staff seem fantastic and I'm learning a ton from the man who is training me. The change feels really sudden but good. It's hard to believe that I'm allowed to be in charge of someone's treatment or be their therapist. Despite the weirdness, I'm excited and confident that I will be able to do good and fulfilling things in this new role.

I'm learning and you can too!

2008-06-09T09:55:00.011-06:00

Lately I've been reading about how the type of banana we eat (the Cavendish) is under threat of Panama disease, a soil fungus. Apparently, until the 1960s, North Americans ate a different type of banana that was wiped out by this same fungus. Reportedly, the old bananas were much tastier than the Cavendish. However, I've also heard that these bananas used to walk 15 miles to school in the deep winter snow, uphill both ways.

I'm not too worried about the banana situation as there are a few hundred other varieties being cultivated around the world. If the Cavendish is wiped out, different types of bananas can be grown and imported. Don't worry. There is no impending banana dooms day.

What's interesting about this story is how bananas are grown and the reason they can be wiped out. Unlike wild bananas, which are full of giant hard seeds, domestic bananas are seedless mutants. Sometimes, banana plants in the jungle spontaneously produce new plants with two full sets of sex chromosomes, making them delicious but uanble to reproduce. People take cuttings from these plants and cultivate them for food. The result is fields full of carefully-cultivated clones of the original plant. Being genetically identical, the whole crop is susceptible to the same diseases. Consequently, if one plant is taken out by a certain pesticide-resistant fungus, the other plants are likely to follow.

Who knew?

On Bird Love and Things you Can Buy

2008-05-28T09:53:00.014-06:00

Now that I read it again, my sassy spring rant was mostly just mean. Sorry to any and all who either live in High River, have a flooding basement, or are shocked each year by the return of Stampede. To turn the tide of negativity I decided to post about some things that I have been enjoying.

1. It's no surprise that I am enjoying spring. I savour the slowness of rainy days, the freshness of green grass, the change of pace when the sun comes out, and the scent of blossoms. The view into our backyard is fantastic. The only downside is that every time I look up from writing resumes or working on papers at the computer, there are birds doing it in our lilac tree. I don't know if they also enjoy the scent of blossoms, but in the sparrow community, there is something very sexy about our lilac. A few days ago, two birds created this crazy little flapping ball and then, in the throws of passion, fell out of the tree. Worried, I got up from the computer and ran to the window to see if they hit the ground. No sign of hurt birds. They're probably making tiny sparrows in a less thrilling location.

2. The Hippy Report: I finally found an environmentally friendly liquid dish soap that works! After trying many that didn't sud, my friend Karen recommended Seventh Generation. Their lavender scent is gorgeous and it works as well as conventional dish soap. I love it so much, I have to hold myself back from climbing into the sink with my dishes. The second update in the hippy report is a recommendation for a delicious fair trade organic coffee. It's called Oso Negro and it's roasted in Nelson, BC. What's not to love?

3. While it was raining, Kyle and I made great use of the DVD machines at Safeway. If you haven't tried them yet, you should. The selection is a bit limited but a new release costs $1.53 per day. That's a crazy good deal! A couple of weeks ago we rented a beautiful film, "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly". Its based on the true story of Jean-Dominique Bauby, a French man who was paralyzed after having a massive stroke. With only the ability to blink one eye, he wrote a memoir.

Inspired to read his memoir, I looked for it at the public library. There were 47 people who had requested the English translation and 3 for the French. Although I'm pretty sure that I'll be constantly looking up words, I'm going to try reading a French book for the first time in 10 years. Wish me luck!

Spring Rant

2008-05-26T11:55:00.007-06:00

Every year around this time it rains. When it rains, the rivers run high. And when the rivers run high, there is flooding south of Calgary. Invariably, Global News is on scene each spring to capture this story.

Last night, I watched an interview with an unfortunate man from High River whose basement has flooded. In his interview he said, "You never expect this to happen to your house." What?! You own a house in a town called HIGH RIVER, a town that is built on a FLOODPLAIN!

I feel badly for people whose houses flood, I do. It sucks when your things get ruined and you have to pay to clean up the mess. Also, the High River area is beautiful and I understand why people choose to live there. But honestly, being surprised by spring flooding in High River is like me being shocked by all the drunken, pancake-eating professionals in cowboy hats that innundate downtown Calgary each July.

Family photo

2008-05-21T12:03:00.009-06:00

I didn't get either of those jobs I interviewed for and am starting a new round of applications. Even though I was a bit bummed out, one of the employers managed to be very encouraging while telling me that I didn't get the job. I'm mostly over my unemployment grumples and enjoying my freedom again.

Last night, I decided that Kyle and I needed to take a "family photo" to send to a friend in India. I chose a spot in the back yard and Kyle set up our camera on the fence. As we waited for the timer to go off, Chaz kept wandering into the photo and dropping balls at our feet. We decided that rather than having tiny basket balls in front of us and a fuzzy black streak in the picture, we'd just get him to sit down in front of us. Kyle came up with a brilliant plan. He commanded Chaz to sit before placing his ball on the fence so that our obsessive dog would be looking into the camera. It worked really well the first time.In the second photo, Kyle again got the dog to look forward by saying, "Chaz, where's your ball?" Unlike the time before where he stared longingly at his ball, Chaz ran forward and jumped up against the fence, reaching up to get it. As our camera wobbled on the fence, Kyle took off running. I just wish you could see Chaz's snout in the frame, then it would be the perfect depiction of life at our house - Chaz doing something bad, me laughing, and Kyle trying to avert disaster.

The Waiting Game

2008-05-13T08:42:00.004-06:00

I was at a party the other week when someone asked me what I did for a living. I had to answer: "Well I used to be a grad student but now I'm unemployed." The guy I was talking to said the average unemployment lasts four months. Still enjoying my joblessness, I gave him a high five.

If I were to have that conversation today, I'd probably give him a fierce backhand. As I head into my second month of unemployment, I'm starting to feel anxious and bored. I've had a couple of interviews, one of which I thought went really well. But even though I was my shiniest, most professional self, neither potential employer has phoned me back yet.

I know that after a week of work I'll be craving the days when I slept in, read books in patches of sunshine on the living room floor, took afternoon walks, met friends for coffee, and shopped for groceries down luxuriously quiet aisles. So for the next days and weeks (hopefully not three months as predicted by party guy), my task is to enjoy my freedom and trust that the right job will come along. My other task is to stop lying around in patches of sun and turn my thesis into a journal article.

Spring again!

2008-05-08T13:11:00.006-06:00

Things around here are better than they were a couple of weeks ago. Kyle is feeling better and we're having some gorgeous spring rain. One of the most fantastic things about spring is the puddles. Ever since I got my driver's license, I have LOVED to drive through puddles. In high school, I used to cruise around town with the intent of finding massive puddles and splashing through them. Due to the awful roads in Grande Prairie, this was almost always a successful mission. A particularly good spot for finding humongous puddles was the Co-op parking lot.

When I was in high school I worked part time at the Co-op deli. The Co-op, especially the cafeteria, was where all of the cool senior citizens hung out. Once, my friend Jamie and I were taking our lunch break in the cafeteria with my sister Amisha when an old man wowed us with an array of denture-related tricks. It was pretty awesome/unsettling.

Anyway, back to the puddles. One lovely spring day I happened upon a gorgeous puddle in the Co-op parking lot. I took a few rounds with my mom's escort wagon, laughing to myself as the water splashed up and over my car. The puddle was so awesome that I picked up my friend Roxanne to show it off. After driving back with her to the Co-op, I excitedly looked both ways before gunning it down the parking lot toward the store entrance. According to Roxanne, an elderly gentleman stepped out from between two cars just in time to be caught in my tidal wave of muddy parking lot water. I couldn't see him in my rear-view mirror but Roxanne swears that I drenched him. In my embarrassment and uncertainty, I just drove away. I still feel awful.

Please enjoy the spring and it's puddles but do so responsibly!

Making the best of a bad situation

2008-04-30T16:57:00.003-06:00

Overheard in the ER waiting room:
"Could whoever ordered Chinese food please come to triage?"

Some photos from Egypt

2008-04-23T14:06:00.007-06:00

Here are some of our photos from Egypt. If you're on facebook, you may have already seen these and others. But for those of you who aren't (ahem, Paige), here they are.

Here we are on our first day in front of the Sphinx and the Pyramids in Cairo. It was crazy hot when we landed, 40C. Typical for March is between 25-30. The pyramids are right in Cairo, which is strange. In this photo we are standing right across the street from a jewelry shop, a Pizza Hut, and some souvenir stores.

After Cairo, we traveled to the south of Egypt where we took a Nile cruise. I was very surprised by how incredibly beautiful the Nile was. Here's a shot from the boat. We would typically sail in the afternoons and evenings. Most of our sight-seeing took place in the early morning before it got really hot.

Here is the ceiling of the one of the temples we visited. The black marks are from the torches of Christians who hid in the abandoned temples to escape Roman persecution. Unfortunately, they also defaced many of the temples. I was so impressed with how well-preserved the temples were after 4000 years. We don't have any photos but in the Valley of the Kings where the Pharaohs were buried, the paint on the walls is so vibrant it looks as though it was painted yesterday.

We traveled a bit by bus. We usually travelled in convoys and were always accompanied by guards with AK47s. They even checked under our buses with mirrors to check for bombs. Anyway, at one truck stop, there was a Bedouin woman who stood there with a baby goat riding on top of a donkey. I LOVE IT WHEN ANIMALS CATCH A RIDE ON OTHER ANIMALS! When I spotted her, I almost lost it. I think this was the most excited I was all trip. The donkey didn't like me and kept trying to walk away with its goat. The Bedouin woman also had an albino son, which was interesting. I wondered how they kept him from getting sun burnt.

Here we are riding our donkeys into the valley of the Kings. It was a very bumpy ride and as I wrote earlier, mine was crazy and ran off into traffic. It was a lot of fun and I giggled most of the way.

Our really enjoyed the end of our trip when we went to the Red Sea and Sinai peninsula. We did some snorkeling in the Red Sea, which was incredible. I got stung by a jellyfish while we were snorkeling. Kyle valiantly offered to pee on the sting but I declined.

On our last day we woke up at 1am to climb Mt. Sinai. We started from an ancient (but still working) monastery at the base of the mountain and climbed for three hours. The paths were filled with tourists, camels, and chanting pilgrims. We climbed in the dark with the help of Bedouin guides and flashlights. There were tea houses along the path where you could pull over for a cup of tea or a snack. We got to the top while it was still dark and watched an amazing sun rise. It was a fantastic way to end our time in Egypt.

Not feeling so well

2008-04-13T20:03:00.005-06:00

Jamie: Oh you're burning up. Can I get you something?

Kyle: No. I want to take a bath. A bath would be soothing.

Jamie: So why don't you? Do you want me to run you a bath?

Kyle: No, I don't like our bath. It's sketchy and dirty.

Jamie: No it's not.

Kyle: It has chips in the porcelain and there's that brown stain...

Jamie (interrupting): Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's dirty.

Kyle: ... and I pee in it.

Home For a Rest

2008-04-08T09:20:00.006-06:00

As we touched down into Calgary yesterday afternoon after 46 hours in transit, my heart warmed as I gazed at the Rocky mountains and the city's skyline. As we taxied down the runway, I squeeled with joy when I spotted a gopher skittering around in the grass. That sealed it...for the first time in the seven years I've lived here, Calgary felt like home.

Last night I considered downloading some photos from our new camera so that I could post them on here. But as I toyed with the idea, I was incapacitated by the fear that I would somehow delete all 600 of the photos that Kyle took on our trip. If that happened, Kyle would sneakily sew a kilogram of cocaine into the lining of my jacket, send me on an errand to his mom's elementary school and then call the cops on me. That way, I would never be able to leave the country again.

Egypt

2008-04-01T09:50:00.002-06:00

Just wanted to post to say that Kyle and I are still alive and enjoying our trip. Today we are in Luxor and took a donkey ride into the Valley of the Kings to see the tombs of the Pharoahs. It was pretty incredible. The donkey ride was hilarious but my donkey ran into traffic and Kyle' s also tried to get him killed. What Kyle calls his "deft donkey handling skills" spared him from certain doom while I was saved by a motorcyclist's swerving skills.

Tomorrow we set off to the Red Sea to do some snorkeling and then on to climb Mt. Sinai. More later!

Chicago

2008-03-16T18:53:00.006-06:00

Part one of our holiday is nearly over as we leave Chicago tomorrow afternoon and fly to New York. Chicago is an insanely friendly city and much more beautiful than I had expected. We've had a great time here with two of Kyle's co-workers and their spouses. This weekend was a big deal in Chicago because it's St. Patrick's Day weekend. We headed out early on Saturday morning with about 10 000 other people to watch the annual dyeing of the river. It was insane to see how they were able to colour the river lime-green. The streets were filled with people of all ages and ethnicities wearing green clothing with slogans like "Irish drinking team" or "Kiss me, I'm drunk". I just love how people of different backgrounds can get past their differences and unite in a celebration of Irish stereotypes. We joined in the celebration, wearing green beaded necklaces and enjoying some green beer at an Irish Pub.

It's time for a new scene

2008-03-12T00:27:00.005-06:00

For those of you who are wondering, my thesis defense went really well... aside the part where I tripped over a power chord and unplugged the projector before starting my presentation. The committee asked me questions for an hour and a half before sending me out and deciding on my mark. As they deliberated, I stood in the hall with a dear friend who sat outside waiting for the full two hours. After about five minutes, they called me in and told me that I had passed. It feels great to be finished.

To celebrate, Kyle and I are heading out on a three-week trip. We're going to Chicago, New York, and then to Egypt. The past few days have been filled with preparations for our trip.

This week we were due to get our second Hepatitis vaccine, which will allow us to eat ice cubes and borrow other people's nail clippers while we're in Egypt. When I went to the university clinic to get my injection, I was told that I would have to wait at least 90 minutes to see a doctor. Not wanting to wait, I took my vaccine home with me. When I got home, Kyle and I made a list of people we knew who could administer the vaccine, which came conveniently packaged in a ready-to-use syringe.

As we made our way down our list of medical professionals who might inject us in exchange for a bottle of wine, we called a friend of Kyle's whose wife is a nurse. Kyle's friend told us that although his wife wouldn't be able to help us, he was going out for wings with a buddy who also happened to be a nurse. On their way to the pub, Kyle's friend and Nurse Buddy popped by to give us our needles. It was a bit awkward to invite a stranger into our home, shake his hand, and then roll up our sleeves for the injection. He did an awesome job and the injection was painless. He was so good I almost wanted to check the floor to make sure he hadn't missed my arm and spilled my $57 vaccine all over the floor.

Problem solved! We were injected and ready to take on the world. However, because Nurse Buddy didn't want to take our used needles with him to the pub, Kyle and I were left with two syringes to dispose of. Not wanting to throw them in the garbage, we wondered how we could get rid of them. In a stroke of genius, we decided to drive downtown and dispose of the needles in the safe boxes intended for drug users on the street. Under the cover or darkness we crossed town, walked through the seediest park we could find, and dropped our needles in the bright yellow safe box. I did feel a bit uncomfortable using services intended for addicts and homeless people. However, I figure that the government resources used to dispose of our Twinrix needles are much less than what would have been required for a more legitimate vaccination experience.

We'll be gone until early April. I'm not sure how often I'll be accessing the internet but I hope to post a few times while we're away.

The best policy?

2008-03-09T17:52:00.003-06:00

Friday as I was walking on 17th Ave, a guy held out a baseball cap full of coins and asked, "Spare some change for marijuana?"

I kept my money but I sure did appreciate his honesty.

T minus 46 hours

2008-03-03T16:49:00.004-07:00

Things have been quiet on the blog front this week. I will excuse myself because the oral defense of my thesis is on Wednesday afternoon. However, the truth is that I haven't been studying all that much. I'm a smidge nervous but mostly I feel ready and excited. I can't wait to be finished!

Strays

2008-02-22T19:46:00.012-07:00

Today I spent a train-ride visiting with a lovely elderly woman. She was very well dressed and wore a sparkly clip in her coiffed hair. As we chatted, I couldn't help but notice the crop of three-inch curly hairs sprouting from her chin. It was as though I was staring into the grey-haired face of my future.

I myself grow pretty mean crop of random face hairs. And they seem to increase every year. I'm a bit self-conscious about these dark, wiry buggers and try to keep them plucked. However, I will occasionally be mortified to find a long straggler on my chin and wonder who has noticed it.

I once tried to make Kyle promise that if I was ever in a coma, he would keep on top of the plucking regime. But even after I threatened to haunt him to avenge my hairy death, he only agreed to do it once. After that first time, I would be on my own. That was when I tried to enlist my sister to the task.

This afternoon, as I spoke with the elderly woman on the train, I found her chin hairs refreshing. There's nothing more liberated than a woman whose face says "Screw it. I'm not modifying my body any more." I really do believe that hairiness is just part of being alive and human. I also believe women should be more comfortable and open with the natural processes of their bodies.

Nevertheless, it's much easier to promote these values when the tufts of liberation are declaring freedom on someone else's face.

Urban Outdoorsmen

2008-02-15T16:57:00.008-07:00

Last night I celebrated Valentine's Day by going on a ride-along with two of my friends who are outreach workers for CUPS (Calgary Urban Projects Society). We drove around the inner-city looking for people who might need condoms, food, or clothes. It was a pretty slow night but I enjoyed learning more about what my friends do at CUPS and how they interact with people living on the streets.

A lot of the people have really fun nicknames. For example, there's "Survivor Man" who when asked how he is, always says "I'm surving!" and rants to the workers about how they don't have what it takes to "survive" on the street. Or my favourite, Caveman, who loved to talk about his role as a Caveman extra in a 1980s Darryl Hannah movie.

I was reminded last night of when I worked with homeless people in England. Before I left for England I needed a rain coat. Because I didn't have much money, I bought one of those bright yellow plastic rain-coats. In addition to being cheap, I thought it was cool in an ironic, fisherman kind of way. However, when I got to England, it was more ridiculous than cool and one homeless man called me Paddington. In addition to having a weird coat, I had neglected to bring a hat, mittens, or a scarf. I borrowed these from friends and ended up with a very "eclectic" outfit.

One night, I approached a group of young homeless people and struck up a conversation. My intent was to see if they needed any food or referral to local shelters. But before I could ask, they asked me where I was sleeping that night and welcomed me to stay with them at a nearby parking garage. I was humbled by their honest generosity and their willingness to help a stranger. It was much more generous than my offer of tuna sandwhiches and hot chocolate that I hadn't prepared or paid for. But even so, I was a little taken aback at being mistaken for a homeless person by homeless people.

Anyway, after last night I have lots of thoughts about homelessness, which I'm still mulling over.

Hierarchy of Needs

2008-02-07T08:57:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spent much of my morning at the medical clinic at the UofC, getting some immunizations. I brought along an article with the intent of studying while I waited but ended up people watching the whole time.

At one point, a cute little first-year wandered in. She looked fairly ill with her hair swept up into a really messy pony tail and outfitted in her pajamas and a hoodie. She wasn't wearing shoes but cushy slippers, which led me to believe that she must have walked from rez to the clinic through the underground tunnels. However, what made me smile was when I noticed that despite not being well enough to put on shoes, sickly first-year had taken the time to apply eye make-up.

Burned

2008-01-30T11:14:00.000-07:00

I just sent an email to the manager of an organization where I worked for two years. In my email, I asked if they were hiring and said that I'd love to come back if they were. This is the response I got.

Jamie- I am sorry- please remind me who you are-I know your
name but that is where it ends.

Ow. My Spirit. It's crushed.

Maybe this job search is going to be more challenging than I had anticipated...

Time's up!

2008-01-25T12:21:00.001-07:00

Things have been a quiet on the blogging front this week because today was my deadline to hand in my completed master's thesis to my supervisor. I just emailed it to her and am sitting here at my computer feeling a bit sick to my stomach. After having spent so much time writing, reading, and editing the same paper, I feel as though I have no idea if my thesis is what it should be. We'll see.

I've really enjoyed the process of writing my thesis and I'm trying to savour the last weeks before I defend and then move onto the next phase of life. Full-time work will definitely be a shock to my system!

Even though there is quite a bit more work to do before I'm entirely finished, I've resolved to celebrate steps along the way. So today, I'm posting a commemorative photo of the local where the magic has been happening for the past eight months.

This corner of our dining room is where I spend my days - staring out the window, drinking coffee, and listening to CBC Radio 3. And with the constant help of www.thesaurus.com, I also do some writing.

Together at last

2008-01-20T13:37:00.000-07:00

Maybe this is following too closely on the heels of the "Pee and Poo post" but I couldn't resist putting up a photo of the product I stumbled upon while killing time in London Drugs yesterday.

And the prize for weirdest birthday present goes to...

2008-01-14T21:50:00.001-07:00

Amisha - with Pee and Poo, my new plush friends.

Baby Girl!

2008-01-14T21:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my 27th birthday. I had a wonderful weekend with my friend Roxanne who drove down from Edmonton. My birthday was made even better by the addition of my new niece, who shall remain nameless (but hopefully not for long!). My brother and his lovely wife Sarah are still settling on a name. She was born at 9pm on the 12th, just three hours shy of sharing my birthday. I guess my birthday present to her will be not to hold that against her.

Kyle's right. They are Evil.

2008-01-09T10:17:00.001-07:00

Kyle and I bought really good travel mugs, which I try to bring with me whenever I meet someone for coffee. Last week at Starbucks, I handed the woman at the till my travel mug and ordered a drink. Then, like a good customer, I walked to the bar to wait quietly for my coffee. I watched in stunned silence as the barrista made my drink in a cardboard cup, poured the drink from disposable cup into my travel mug, and tossed the cup in the garbage.

I understand that she probably wants to make sure I get the same amount of drink as I ordered. But it's a Starbucks mug, which I figure must be a standard size. Or maybe she was confused and didn't notice the mug until after she started making my drink.

Regardless of the reason, I was a bit irritated. The sad thing is that my irritation wasn't because of the environmental impact of such waste. It was because of my deep love of disposable coffee cups. When I drink from a cardboard cup, I savour the warm feeling of heat transfering from the drink to my hands. I relish the rough texture of the paper. I delight in the colourful cheer of left-over Christmas cups. For me, the cardboard cup is a big part of the experience of going out for a five-dollar coffee.

It was all I could do to not launch myself over the counter, intercept the cup before it hit the garbage can, and fill it again with my lactaid latte. Instead, I watched in slow-motion horror as that beautiful cup sailed through the air, ricocheted off the side of the giant garbage can and fell on top of a cold pile of coffee grounds.

All that beauty... wasted.

Why Starbucks, why!? I try to do the right thing by bringing my own cup and you just taunt me!

ps. For fun, you coffee drinkers should check out the Oracle of Starbucks.

Wardrobe Dysfunction

2008-01-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

I'm going to a bar downtown tonight to see a show. I'm excited about seeing the band and I'm pumped to hang out with some friends who are in town for the holidays.

On Friday I was out for lunch with these same friends, worrying aloud about what I should wear to the show. My anxiety stems from the fact that I'm just not cool enough for indie shows (or any other shows) and neither is my wardrobe.

To illustrate my lack of coolness, I told the girls about the time a bunch of kids from my bible school drove up to Edmonton to watch Grandmaster Flash dj. Not knowing that Grandmaster Flash was playing a rave, I put on my "coolest" sweater, which I had picked up from Value Village. The sweater was chocolate brown with a small gold lion embroidered on the chest.

At the rave, I felt okay in my brown sweater amidst all of the kids with their loofahs, glow sticks, soothers, and neon spandex dresses. And then I went to the bathroom. While I waited in line, one of the tiny raver girls asked me if I was a security guard. A security guard. That's how cool I was in my awesome brown sweater.

So tonight I'm heading downtown wearing jeans and my current coolest shirt. I have a good feeling about this one. But then again, I also felt pretty hot in my security guard sweater so it's hard to know how things will turn out.

Christmas 2007

2008-01-04T09:56:00.001-07:00

We had a fantastic couple of weeks cruising around the province enjoying the generous hospitality of friends and family. In Camrose we got to visit some of our dear friends and meet Soren, a fantastic new addition to our family.

Aside from the arrival of a beautiful new baby, there was another Christmas miracle. Every year, my family practices the British tradition opening of Christmas crackers before dinner. For the first time ever, Amisha received a paper Christmas crown in her cracker that was big enough to fit over her massive head. She was so excited that she kept it in her pocket and brought it out periodically over the holidays.

Another highlight of our holiday was Murray's Ho Ho Hold the Turkey event, which Amisha has accurately described on her blog while skillfully mocking our host. I think this is my favourite party ever, not only because of the delicious forno pizza but because of Murray's mad dancing skills.
Click on the photo to check out the intensity on his face. He wasn't messing around...

The night before we left Grande Prairie I laid awake in my bed, overflowing with thankfulness for a holiday filled with the sweetness of new life, connection, good food, and laughter.

Happy 2008!

Oh Christmas Tree!

2007-12-23T15:57:00.000-07:00

Last summer, my sister Amisha advised me that we needed to cut the spruce tree that was trying to grow its way through the front of our house. In a stroke of brilliance, I decided to wait until December to cut it own. That way, I could get my yard work done and not have to pay for a Christmas tree.

So a few weeks ago I decided it was time to get out and do a little Christmas yard work. I grabbed some mittens and a saw and got down to work. After I sawed/kicked the tree down, our roommate Alanna helped me drag it into the house while our neighbour laughed at us.

It even came pre-decorated with lots of dried leaves, a tin yogurt lid and some construction tape. Ours might not be the most shapely Christmas tree but I think it's gorgeous. Of all the unruly trees I've cut down in our yard, it's by far my favourite. I'll even miss it come January.

When Kyle puts away the groceries

2007-12-17T22:21:00.001-07:00

I'm not sure what his logic was here. Maybe alphabetical order - panty liners, pasta...

TV for blind people

2007-12-16T19:10:00.000-07:00

Tonight Kyle's Christmas wish came true... our TV finally broke. A month ago the sound went really strange and he fixed it by rigging something up through the VCR. This evening, our TV has inexplicably started broadcasting voice-over services for the visually impaired. On every station, the same woman's voice describes the action on screen.

"Homer opens the door, crosses the room and looks in Maggie's crib. Homer runs across the hall to Lisa's room."

At first I thought this new "feature" might make TV watching even easier than it already is. You know, sometimes I just can't keep up with the fast-paced action on the screen or don't want to put in the effort of keeping my eyes focused. But instead of improving my television experience, the voice-over lady has ruined it. Having her describe everything happening on screen is incredibly irritating when you're not visually impaired. And because we did nothing to activate the voice over, we are absolutely baffled as to how to turn it off.

The power of the mind

2007-12-11T08:44:00.000-07:00

This morning, just after I woke up, I was standing in the bathroom with the door open. All of the sudden I thought, "Hm...maybe I should make a cup of tea."

The thought was weird because I never drink tea in the morning and I was incredibly thirsty for a cold glass of water.

As I shuffled down the hallway, I heard an odd noise. A boiling noise. I walked into the kitchen to see that our insanely crappy electric kettle (which is supposed to shut off automatically) was going full boil. Its white plastic outside was quite hot and feeling a bit soft. Quickly, I came to realize that the kettle had been boiling for over an hour while I slept.

Thanks brain, for alerting me to the possibility of "tea", rather than "kitchen fire".

Full-on Winter

2007-11-28T09:04:00.000-07:00

Last night on the news, the newscasters spent five minutes talking about world events and about 20 talking about the recent change in the weather. That drives me crazy. It reminds me of the Grande Prairie Herald Tribune, which would have one page of Canadian news, another of world events and a whole sports section each day. Of two sections to the paper, one was sports. "What? There was a conflict in Rwanda? Um, I'm not sure about that but I could tell you which of our two high schools had the best curling team."

Anyway, back to winter. To stave off the winter blues, I've decided to write about the things I've been enjoying this fall/winter.

1) Mittens: I just love mittens and my sister Heather has made me two fantastic pairs. Not only are they cute but they also make it so that I don't have to touch doorknobs all winter. My mittens are a fashion-conscious germaphobe's dream!

2)Pomegranates: I am having such a great time eating pomegranates. Kyle thinks that they're too much work but that's part of what I love. Picking out the seeds is like some sort of meditation for me.

3)Puffy birds: I love waking up and looking out our kitchen window to see the round little birds puffing up their feathers to stay warm.

4)Less time for playground zones: We have a playground zone down the street from our house. I don't really mind slowing down during the day but I relish being able to whip through there at 5:30pm. Take that, kids trying to play at the park before supper!

5)Mandarin oranges: Everytime I break the peel of a mandarin orange, the Ghost of Christmas Past bursts out and flies up my nose.

Does not follow directions well

2007-11-26T20:10:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Kyle noticed that there are instructions on his underwear tag.

New and Improved Stereotypes

2007-11-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

These are taken from http://newstereotypes.blogspot.com/

Black people can extinguish a fire just by dissing it.

During the great Chicago fire of 1871, it took nearly 100 men implying the inferno's mother was promiscuous to smother the blaze

Germans can get pregnant from the sound of David Hasselhoff's Voice

And yet they just can't resist his dulcet tones. Which must be why one in three German women are impregnated by him at any given time. (Watch out Kristina)

Indians lose their nipples every full moon...

But on the bright side, when they reappear they smell exactly like fresh-baked sugar cookies.

Repeat, repeat, repeat

2007-11-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

Today's soundtrack Weighty Ghost by Wintersleep

Code Yellow!

2007-11-09T17:17:00.000-07:00

This afternoon my friend Cherie and I were on our way to the Farmer's market. As we were stopped across from the hospital, I noticed an odd looking guy jaywalking near Cherie's car. He looked sneaky and was walking strangely so I watched him for a minute while we waited for traffic to clear. Suddenly, I realized that he was wearing only wool socks on his feet and was furiously tucking a blue hospital gown into his coat.

An escapee from the hospital!

Cherie pulled out her cell phone and called the hospital switchboard to tell them that a patient was on the lam. We stealthily tried to follow him in Cherie's car but he quickly vanished. Cherie and I drove through my neighbourhood looking down streets and alleys for a while before giving up. We'd totally been out-sneaked. Two hours later we returned from the Farmer's market and the cops were still trolling the area.

When I worked at the hospital, they would call Code Yellow over the intercom when a patient went missing. Upon hearing the call, I was supposed to stop and look around my office to make sure that nobody was hiding behind my filing cabinet or taking refuge under my desk. As we were phoning the switchboard, I could just imagine the code-yellow going out. Maybe I should go check our garage...

What? I didn't like the pair with the Wayans brothers on them

2007-11-03T18:37:00.000-06:00

Last weekend my sister Amisha's husband Andy stayed at our house. Somehow, a pair of my underwear left with him, hitching a ride from the dryer to Edmonton inside Andy and Amisha's laundry hamper. Or at least that's what my panty-stealing creep of a brother-in-law would have you believe.

Anyway, Amisha blogged about my underwear, making fun of the fact that they say "Sammy's Snack Shack" on the butt. Sadly, almost all of my underwear have something lame written on the back. I don't buy them because I actually want underwear that says "Twin Kitties", or "Valet Girl - Who me, park? " or "Boy Scout - Scouting for Cute Boys." It's just that the cheesy underpants that Wal Mart markets to 14 year old girls happen to be insanely comfortable.

The last underwear I bought was on clearance. Strangely, most of the ones on sale said "Everyone Loves an Asian Girl" on the butt and had a picture of a Chinese take-out box with chop sticks. Apparently, there isn't a huge market for mildly racist panties at Wal Mart. Despite their obvious flaws, the price tag called out to me - $1.39 (1.39!). In response, I picked up two pairs and tossed them in the cart. I also bought some that say "Everyone loves an Italian girl" with a picture of spaghetti and meatballs. Now I could probably get away with telling people I'm Italian. However, nobody would ever, ever believe that I, a giant, blue-eyed, translucent woman am even remotely Asian.

I bought the underwear thinking the "design" wouldn't matter because nobody would ever see them. However, more than once I have been struck with horror when I suddenly realize that I'm wearing my Asian Girl underwear when changing at the gym. There are only a couple of conclusions a person could draw upon seeing me in them.

a) I'm a creep who is slyly hitting on the Asian ladies at the gym
b) I've beaten up some poor proud Asian girl and stolen her underwear
c) I buy second-hand skivvies
d) I'm mocking any and all Asian people who dare look at my bum
e) I'm just a weirdo who either doesn't care, or has no idea what she's wearing (correct!)

Lesson learned: Sometimes it is just best to let a bargain pass you by.

The Real Reason UNICEF Discontinued the Halloween Program

2007-10-29T16:20:00.000-06:00

The Wisdom of Children
by Simon Rich

A Day at UNICEF Headquarters, as I Imagined It in Third Grade
.
(UNICEF sits on a throne. He is wearing a cape and holding a sceptre. A servant enters, on his knees.)
.
UNICEF: Halloween is fast approaching! Have the third graders been given their little orange boxes?
.
SERVANT: Yes, your majesty!
.
UNICEF: Perfect. Did you tell them what the money was for?
.
SERVANT: No, sir, of course not! We just gave them the boxes and told them to collect for UNICEF. We said it was for “a good cause,” but we didn’t get any more specific than that.
.
UNICEF: Ha ha ha! Those fools! Soon I will have all the money in the world. For I am UNICEF, evil king of Halloween!
.
SERVANT: Sir . . . don’t you think you’ve stolen enough from the children? Maybe you should let them keep the money this year.
.
UNICEF: Never! The children shall toil forever to serve my greed!
(He tears open a little orange box full of coins and rubs them all over his fat stomach.)
.
UNICEF: Yes! Oh, yes!
.
SERVANT: Wait! Your majesty! Look at this! Our records indicate that there’s a kid out there—Simon—who’s planning to keep his UNICEF money this year.
.
UNICEF: What?! But what about my evil plans? I was going to give that money to the Russians so they could build a bomb!
.
SERVANT: (aside) I guess there’s still one hero left in this world.
.
UNICEF: No! (He runs out of the castle, sobbing.)
.
SERVANT: Thank God Simon is keeping his UNICEF money.
.
SECOND SERVANT: Yes, it’s good that he’s keeping the money.
.
THIRD SERVANT: I agree. Simon is doing a good thing by keeping the money from the UNICEF box.
.
SERVANT: Then we’re all in agreement. Simon should keep the money.

We Cut Down Old Growth Forests for This?

2007-10-27T09:52:00.000-06:00

One of the best parts of the day is when the mail comes. It's particularly enjoyable lately because it's Christmas catalogue time. Last year, Kyle bought some fly fishing stuff from a company that sold his information and is responsible for the deluge of crap we receive from October to December.

I secretly love to tell Kyle when a catalogue has come. He rages about wasted paper and swears that he will never buy anything from said fishing company again...no matter how awesome their product is. Even better is when he phones the companies to get off their mailing lists and they refuse to remove his name.

Hands down, the best/worst is America's longest running catalogue - Hammacher Schlemmer (even the name is wasteful. Those crazy Germans with all their consonants!). Need ideas for Christmas gifts? Hammacher Schlemmer has the most ridiculous products you could ever dream of giving that hard-to-buy-for person.

Would you like a jumpless jump rope that allows you to engage in the training regimen enjoyed by Olympic boxers without interrupting the flow of your workout routine by getting the rope caught in your feet?

No? How about the 6-foot tall classic animatronic fortune teller, Zoltar? Only $8,999.99 (plus $500 shipping).

Maybe you'd be interested in a mechanical core muscle trainer for the low low price of $1,499.95. The gentle swaying of the saddle forces the core muscles of the body to expand and contract.

Okay. Perhaps an alarm clock that rolls away and hides when you hit the snooze button would be more to your liking. Wait...that actually is kind of awesome.

Oh evil Hammacher Schlemmer, despite all my mockery you got me... You got me.

Nun Update

2007-10-12T12:28:00.000-06:00

I've had a long dry spell when it comes to seeing the neighbourhood nuns... maybe they're getting their groceries delivered.

When I was a kid, we had this wonderful Catholic sister who lived in an apartment building down the street from my house. Her name was Sister Aquinas. She drove a tiny car the colour of an orange tic tac, which she would pull over at a moment's notice to chat with neighbourhood kids and hand out pieces of juicy fruit. She also had a watch with a disciple at every hour.

Today I was looking online and saw a site featuring photographs of an order of French Nuns who run a soup kitchen in Harlem. Some of the women started taking tae kwon do lessons for exercise. Of course, they don't go around drop-kicking New Yorkers but apparently, five-foot tall Sister Mary (pictured above) is pretty awesome. Look at that air and those furious fists! I'll bet the next photograph was of the tae kwon do teacher crumpled against the far wall.

Sometimes it's best to buy new

2007-09-29T10:17:00.001-06:00

Recently, I was in a used book store where I saw a whole shelf of second-hand Bathroom Readers.

Just like me - exquisitely delicate

2007-09-25T16:56:00.000-06:00

Yesterday my lovely friend Paige sent me an email telling me about her weekend:

"In our boredom, we stumbled across The Shopping Channel and there was a doll on there that Paul thought looked like you at our wedding. So here you are, in doll form (you're the one in pink, by the way. Not the homely midget girl)."

I was a little afraid to open up the attachment. But when I did, I was surprised to see that Paul was right. The doll kind of does look like I did at their wedding. Brown flippy hair, pink strapless dress, and skin the colour of Elmer's Glue.

Sweet! Now I know exactly what to get Paige and Paul for their anniversary. Not only is it a gift they'll treasure for a lifetime but it can also be purchased in just three easy payments.

It ain't easy being greazy

2007-09-20T15:21:00.000-06:00

Kyle comes home for lunch. I am typing away at the computer, still in my pajamas.

Kyle: You showered and put on dirty clothes?
Me: No...
Kyle: But your hair is wet
Me: No it's not
Kyle: Oh ... Sorry

Silence

They are as dangerous as they are delicious

2007-09-17T19:03:00.000-06:00

Today was filling day. My dentist was fantastic and I was very cool and collected. I think it's because of the stress-reducing fish tank that my dentist uses to create a calming atmosphere. Maybe the fish absorb patients' anxiety, in which case, one of them will probably be belly-up by tomorrow morning.

As I was paying my bill and talking to the receptionist, I tried to put on some lip gloss. But because my mouth was frozen, my top lip disappeared mid-application and I shmeared it all over my front teeth. That was awkward.

And now just for fun...a lobster knife fight. Poor guy on the left. His knife is backwards.

Shameless plug!

2007-09-15T18:19:00.000-06:00

I just got back from the library where I picked up a book I have been waiting on for weeks. I am so excited about this book that I can barely contain myself! The author provides information about environmentally friendly products and services in Canada. While some of the contents are a bit frightening, I felt hopeful after reading some her practical solutions and tips. For those of us who can't spend tons of money, it's nice to know that IKEA has a good reputation for using less toxic materials. For example, unlike many manufacturers, IKEA doesn't bind the pressed wood used to make cribs, beds, and shelves with formaldehyde (a cancer-causing chemical).

I also bought a new mop today. Kyle thinks our current mop is "creepy and dirty" just because a moth flew out of it and it's tangled with a multicoloured tapestry of hair...

The mop I chose is made by Method, a company that I absolutely adore. Not only are their products naturally-derived, they also smell fantastic and look great...which caters nicely to my weakness for good packaging. We use tons of their stuff - from body wash to leather cleaner.

Move over Kyle. Tonight your spot in our bed will be occupied by our new mop and my library book.

What time is it?

2007-09-13T18:18:00.000-06:00

I really like going to medical appointments and talking about my health. So much so that I'm afraid that my doctor will sense my weird enthusiasm and think I have Munchhausen syndrome. Dental appointments, I love a bit less. Actually a lot less. But I have this strange pride about my teeth and want to show up with the cleanest, whitest, most cavity-free teeth my dentist has ever had the privilege to examine. But despite my faithful brushing and flossing, that does not seem to be my dental destiny.

At my last dental cleaning, I was flinching a bit while the hygienist scraped off hunks of my gums. Noticing my discomfort she looked at me without a trace of compassion and said, "It hurts, hey? Well that's because you have gingivitis."
...
Gingivitis? Nooooo!

I laid in the chair, blinded with shame. I felt like someone had caught me eating my boogers. Or that my dentist and his staff were discussing the secret joy I took from reading Hollywood gossip in the waiting room.

Anyway, this time the dentist was dictating to his assistant and said "staining minimal" yes!, tartar minimal, yes! , and that my gums were looking very healthy. YES!!

I was feeling very proud of having aced my dental report card until he looked at my x-rays and told me I have four cavities - one that needs filling and three that we should "keep an eye on". Booo. That requires needles, drooling, and that weird burny tooth smell. There's also the potential for me to get so tense that tears well up in (and spill out of) my eyes while they're working on me. That's much more embarassing than gingivitis.

Amnesty International - "Signature"

2007-08-28T20:48:00.001-06:00

I almost lose it at the last part with the child soldiers. This brilliant ad convinced me to finally write a letter for amnesty international. But then I lost the letter and I think it probably ended up in the recycling pile.

Blogging isn't the only thing that isn't getting done around here

2007-08-22T21:22:00.000-06:00

Kyle and I have an understanding about certain tasks that need to be done around the house. For example, because putting sheets on the bed makes me want to poke my eyes out, Kyle has agreed to do that job. And I put the clean dishes away to spare Kyle the frustration of handling the dishes that he swears must have been loaded into the dishwasher by a blind monkey.
...
But organizing and dropping off the recycling is something that we both hate equally and nobody is willing to take one for the team when it comes to this household task. Consequently, a massive pile of junk piles up until we can no longer close the pantry door and our food becomes nearly inaccessible. Any time we want some mini wheats or Kahlua (or both), we have to take the risk of being swept across the kitchen floor in an avalanche of refuse. We've learned to remain calm, swim with the flow of recyclables and try to grab onto the fridge door handle if we can.
..
Even though we do have a serious recycling problem, our habit of letting the stuff accumulate did save me from some marital strife last March when we were doing our taxes. After having searched the house high and low for an important letter from my bank, I came to the agonizing conclusion that I had to dig through our mountain of recycling. It was no small task but thankfully, just as Kyle was preparing to give me a flying head-butt, I produced the tax form from the bottom of one of the bins. Hooray! It took me ages to shove everything back into the pantry but we did get our taxes in on time.

Who knows what treasures are hidden down there this time?

Ouch

2007-08-07T17:49:00.000-06:00

Me: "Oh Chaz, come here. You're so cute. Let's snuggle."
....
I lay down on the floor beside the dog and start scratching his head.
.....
Kyle: "You want to snuggle with that grubber?"
.....
Chaz looks at me blankly, gets up, and walks away, leaving me alone on the cold floor.
.....
Kyle: "I was talking to the dog."

I get off the floor and chase Kyle down the hall.

Petunia

2007-08-03T08:16:00.000-06:00

Tuesday night, Kyle and I are out for a late walk in our neighbourhood. On our way home, I hear a cat meowing and call it over so that I can pet it.

.....

We pause on the sidewalk to hear more meowing and a weird rustling noise. But no cat. Then, all of a sudden, the cat appears and Kyle and I nervously take a step backward. The cat is not walking toward us but dragging herself furiously in our direction with her front paws. Her back legs and tail are motionless, trailing in the dirt behind her. She scooches up to me and starts dragging herself around my legs, meowing and waiting for some love.

...

"Oh crap. I think this cat has been hit by a car or something."

....

"What should we do?"

....
"I don't know. We could take her to an emergency clinic. But I'm afraid to pick her up. I might hurt her."

.....

Meanwhile, the cat is still meowing and trying to get some affection. I nervously lean down to pet her. She definitely doesn't seem in pain and keeps scraping herself along the sidewalk between Kyle and myself. As we look down at her in the dark, we see something smooth discoloured on her back end. Kyle and I both think it must be road rash.

....

"I could go home and get a box while you wait with the cat."

.....

"Hey! She's wearing a diaper. A little purple plastic cat diaper!"

......

"Weird...So she's probably okay."

.......

"Yeah, but who would leave her outside if her back legs are paralyzed? She can't run away from anything and would get herself worked in a cat fight. She must have escaped."

.......

It's eleven o'clock. Kyle starts looking toward the nearby houses to see if any have lights on. He notices a woman standing in the window of one, watching us. By this time we've probably been standing around for five minutes discussing what we should do with the cat. Kyle walks up to the house and knocks on the door. I can overhear their conversation from where I stand petting the cat.

.........

Friendly Woman: Oh you scared me!

.....

Kyle: Um...do you have a cat that doesn't walk so well?

......

Woman: Oh yeah. That's Petunia! She's a paraplegic. She's been like that for three years. Most people clue in when they see the diaper.

......

Kyle: Oh okay. We thought maybe she'd escaped.

......

Woman: No. She loves to run around outside. She doesn't know she's challenged and she's not in any pain. We built a ramp for her at the back door.

......

Kyle: Okay. I just thought I'd check.

....

Meanwhile Petunia is still happily dragging herself in circles on the sidewalk beside me. Shaking our heads and laughing, we head home in the dark with Petunia following us for a few metres before we outpace her.

Whoever Said They Were Gentle Giants?

2007-07-24T15:34:00.000-06:00

I was browsing through files on my computer today when I spotted this fantastic image. For a while, Kyle and I made a game of changing each other's backgrounds on the computer (on our PC, as with the bank, Kyle and I have separate accounts). This image of the manatee/Hindenburg disaster is one that I set as Kyle's background, using it to creatively remind him of my love for the sea cow.
..........

One evening after Kyle had sneakily changed my background, I logged onto the computer and let out a huge scream when this guy popped up unexpectedly, filling the whole screen.

He is Li'l Sam, three-time winner of the World's Ugliest Dog competition. No, that isn't a chicken bone he's gnawing on. It is his own foot. Sadly, Li'l Sam died last year but he sure did deserve his title. I can't be certain but I think this picture was taken before he died.

Where Did They Get the Halter Top?

2007-07-20T11:58:00.000-06:00

This video is of over 1500 prisoners at a Detention and Rehabilitation Centre in the Philippines practicing "Thriller". The video quality isn't great but the concept is awesome and the dancing - oh so good! Somebody on You Tube has posted a bunch of videos of these guys dancing and marching. Oddly enough, a lot of them are to songs from "Sister Act."

Speaking of Sister Act, Kyle and I saw two of our neighbourhood nuns at Safeway last night. They bought a cantaloupe.

Possibly My Worst Idea Ever

2007-07-13T08:19:00.000-06:00

Recently I saw something on TV about how keeping anything plugged into the wall, even when it's not being used, consumes electricity. Consequently, I've been trying to unplug kettles, lamps, the toaster oven, etc. Last week I was ironing some clothes in the basement and noticed how many of our outlets were filled with plugs. In the name of environmentalism, I happily wandered around unplugging everything.
..

Two days later, we were planning to go to Kyle's parent's for a barbeque. After Kyle went downstairs to get some hamburger from the freezer, I heard him call my name. I went down, thinking that my sister Kristed's lovely dog might have left a dookie in a dark corner of our basement. However, when I got to the bottom of the stairs I saw Kyle standing in a puddle in front of our darkened freezer, looking confused.

....
"Jamie, something is wrong with the freezer. It's not working"

......

My stomach dropped between my feet and for a fleeting moment, I considered blaming it on Kristed...or her dog. Anybody...

.....

"Ah... ... I... unplugged it."
...

"WHAT?!"

Needless to say, Kyle was pretty upset. He grabbed a giant rubber bin and started whipping melting objects out of our freezer. When he asked to be left alone with my puddly disaster, I skulked upstairs and waited quietly.

. ..

Thankfully, our freezer is really new and most of the meat was still half-frozen. Oh man, I can't imagine how much trouble I would have been in if it had sat there for a couple more days. In my defense, the freezer was plugged into an extension cord, and attached to a distant wall. It's not as though I walked behind the freezer and yanked on it.
....

Kyle did get over his quiet rage after about an hour, although he did threaten to resurrect his blog again. The last time he did that was when I didn't quite kill a fly before putting it in the garbage and it buzzed/dragged itself onto his hand while he was throwing something out.

But You Complete Me

2007-07-11T10:11:00.000-06:00

Link

I've been a blog slacker. A new post will be coming very soon.

Polish Festival

2007-06-25T14:49:00.000-06:00

On my walk home from school I pass a Polish Orthodox Catholic church. Last week there was a homemade sign out front advertising a Polish Festival with cultural entertainment, food, and merchandise. So this Saturday, I convinced Kyle that we should head on over to the Polish festival for some sweet post-workout perogy action.

I have to say that the sign was a bit misleading and the event was fairly low key. So much so that it was a bit awkward. In the parking lot that served as a venue, there was one table of used books and another displaying ceramic figurines for sale. The entertainment was one guy with an accordion (in defense of the Polish festival, I think there were dancers earlier in the day). Regardless, the food was good and the people were very friendly, so I was content. As I sat eating my delicious perogies and trying to look Polish, I wondered if everyone else at the festival could tell that Kyle and I weren't part of the Polish Posse.

Hands down, the highlight of the Festival was seeing the nuns who live down the street. They were just hanging out in their habits, doing whatever it is that Polish nuns do at festivals. I got super pumped when I saw them and told Kyle for the millionth time about how much I love these old-style nuns who live in our neighbourhood. Whenever I see them, it makes my day.

...

I especially love it when they mow their lawn in full habit. That reminds me that I haven't happened to see them mowing the lawn yet this year. Maybe I should go on an undercover midnight fertilizing operation to increase my chances...

....

The image above is from a calendar called "Nuns Having Fun". How great is that? The only calendar I can imagine appreciating more would be Nuns Doing Yard Work.

Oh the Suspense

2007-06-21T14:29:00.000-06:00

This morning I was looking at my friend Paul's blog, which I enjoy immensely. On it he had posted this video which has made me laugh all day. I was even giggling to myself about it as I mowed the lawn.

I wonder how someone managed to record this gopher at the very moment it learned that Dave was driving in the vicinity.

Introducing My New Purple and Green Cankle

2007-06-17T21:29:00.001-06:00

Last weekend I was invited to go hiking at Yamnuska with one of my good friends and her husband. We had a fantastic time just being out in the mountains and appreciating the scenery. My favourite part of the hike was when we ran/slid down a giant skree field, which is a long slope of loose gravel. I felt very hardcore.

Unfortunately, I felt much less hardcore when I tripped over a rock in the middle of a flat path about 15 minutes from the parking lot, twisting my ankle. (Hi Mom and Dad. I hurt myself again. Aren't you glad you don't have to pick me up and take me to the hospital anymore?)

,,,,,

My hiking buddies were lovely, lending me their shoulders to lean on and even giving me a piggy back ride when we encountered a particularly steep hill. I have to say that after someone carries my sweaty self on their back down a mountain, we share a very special kind of bond. ,,,,,,,,,,,

My friends lovingly brought me home and supplied me with Advil and a frozen bag of peas. They fussed over me and left only when I promised that Kyle would come home right away. I phoned Kyle at work and requested that he bring me some Indian take-out, which is well-known for its healing properties.

Kyle came home to see his wife laying in front of the TV with a puffy leg, unsuccessfully trying to gnaw the cork out of an unfinished bottle of wine that had been left on the coffee table.

.............

My foot really has not been very sore but it sure does look gross. That's definitely the best kind of injury. I've decided to follow Kyle's lead and take a photo of my wound. Please enjoy Cankle 2007.

More Cowbell

2007-06-09T10:05:00.000-06:00

Everyday on my bus ride home from my practicum, I would pass this sign. It's just down the hill from our house marking a playground zone (for a distant ghost-town of a park that's surrounded by a chain-link fence).

It always made my day to pass this sign. I imagined that some tagging punk had sprayed a little Grim Reaper onto the sign to give extra warning to anyone who might be tempted to speed.

"Hey you, in the pimped-out Tempo with the $4000 stereo. You'd better fear the Reaper... Yeah that's right. It's 30 km/h!"

Sadly, upon closer inspection the black figure looks more like a wizard. And I've seen him spray-painted in much less perilous places onto things like mail boxes and walls. But that's okay. It still makes me happy when I pass it.

More Meow Mix

2007-06-02T15:01:00.000-06:00

Check out this link to see what comes up first if you google
"i want chicken i want liver"

You'll be glad you did.

Oh It Delivers

2007-05-31T21:03:00.000-06:00

This evening, I felt particularly happy as I walked across campus. The grounds were a lushy green, the blossoms smelled gorgeous and the temperature was perfect.

Suddenly I became aware that in the midst of great beauty, I was whistling the tune from a 1990s Meow Mix commercial.

I understand myself to be the type of person who always has a song running through her head. But not until this evening did I realize how often I whistle/sing/hum that particular "melody". It's as though the Meow Mix commercial is the theme song of my personal soundtrack.

I sometimes sing it around supper time when Kyle asks me what I want to eat. Tonight after a heartfelt pre-dinner solo, I got specific and requested chicken livers...but instead we had an uninspired meal of asparagus, salad, and honey nut cheerios.

Chiseled

2007-05-27T15:17:00.000-06:00

On Thursday I had my first class of "Chiseled", a weight training class offered through the university. Yes, it's called chiseled...which is what I will be in just six short weeks.

Even though I kept up with the rest of the class, I had to cheat my way through more than a few of the exercises and shook so much that I nearly fell over several times. Meanwhile, fifty-year-old women floated gracefully beside me, effortlessly lifting one another into the air with one arm.

By the end of the class, I was feeling very sweaty and humble despite being more chiseled than I was a mere 50 minutes before. As I bent over to pick up my equipment, I was so tired that I somehow lost control of my jaw. Time slowed as chewing gum fell from my mouth and landed on top of one of the weights. I was too mortified to look around and see if anyone noticed as I peeled my gum from the free weight.

......

Hopefully nobody was looking but still...why do I have to be the gross kid at Chiseled?

How to Make Coffee that Could be Considered a Crime Against Humanity

2007-05-21T13:10:00.000-06:00

Step 1: Start off by purchasing the cheapest coffee you can find. Buy 3 containers of it to "earn" 15 Air miles at Safeway.

Step 2: As you put the coffee into the machine, activate Bleeding Heart. Feel guilty about the fact that this is probably the least fair-trade coffee you could have bought. Contemplate the tiny youthful fingers that spend their days picking low-quality coffee beans rather than holding pencils.

Step 3: Don't measure the amount of tepid tap water you're putting into the machine. Avoid using a proper tablespoon to measure the grinds. Lose track of how many you've put in.

Step 4: Be impatient. Pour the coffee into your cup before it's finished brewing.

Step 5: Consider the black hole you've poured into your cup.

Step 6: After pouring in all of the cream you could find in the fridge, taste your brew. Because it's so horribly strong, pour the coffee with cream back into the coffee pot. Add an unknown quantity of water to the top of the machine.

Step 7: Notice that you put in way too much water. Lift the top of the coffee machine, getting steam burns while rapidly tossing in wildly inappropriate amounts of coffee grinds.

Step 8: Pour coffee with cooked cream back into cup. Taste coffee so strong that it probably could have poured itself for you.

Step 9: Boil water in the kettle. Add hot water to your cup in an attempt to make the coffee less tarry and chewy.

........

Step 10: Give up on the "brewing" process.

Step 11: Add some milk (as all of the cream is gone) and a boatload of sugar.

.............

Step 12: Drink the coffee. Feel it pummel your digestive system and consider your wicked stomach ache punishment for

a) being a nard who doesn't measure things

b) buying Nabob and assisting "The Man" in his never-ending quest to keep the little guy down

Spring!

2007-05-08T11:37:00.000-06:00

I am loving spring, taking joy from fresh blossoms and warmer days. Last week I stopped to look at the new crocuses on the hillside and thought of how this will be the first spring that my Grandma Pope won't be alive to enjoy them. Crocuses always remind me of her.

As usual, I've had my eyes peeled for ducklings and goslings on the river near our house. Yesterday while running by the river I spotted the first goslings of spring. They were insanely cute and I wanted to walk down the bank for a closer look. Unfortunately, they were guarded by their freaky, hissing Canadian Goose parents whose beady little eyes are constantly calculating how much force it would take to break my forearm. I can't wait for baby ducks!

30 Days to Decide

2007-05-04T14:44:00.000-06:00

Last week I bought a little rug to put on our front step. I got it in the morning and put it out before Kyle came home for lunch. The first thing he said when he walked through the door was: "Yuck! Who gave us that ugly thing at front of the door?"

Like a good man, he quickly back-peddled when I told him that I had in fact made a conscious decision to bring this hideous object into our lives. According to Kyle's second appraisal of the rug, it isn't so bad, especially considering that it's just for people to wipe their feet on. He just hasn't really liked "that colour" since he went through a teal phase grade six. I guess teal is so 1992.

Then our friend Bjorn came over for dinner and I asked him to vote on whether I should return the rug. According to Bjorn, "it looks like something you would throw away after finding it in your grandma's basement." That sparked a bunch more jokes about my other old lady loves such as prune-flavoured yogurt and lentils.

But I still like the rug. And I bought it at Urban Barn, so it must be cool. What do you think? Should it go back from whence it came?

Where Have All the Underwears Gone?

2007-05-01T10:13:00.000-06:00

I have a very bad habit of not putting my underwear and socks away after they're washed. Instead, I just bring the hamper into our room and use it like a wonderfully portable sixth drawer. Kyle lives in a constant state of confusion as to which of my clothes are clean and which are dirty.

Recently, I've felt unsettled by the fact that I seem to have much less underwear than I used to. I swear that I could go for at least three weeks without running out of underwear but now, one week after doing laundry, it's slim pickin's in the sixth drawer/hamper. I've searched high and low and can't figure out where they've gone.

I had a friend whose chihuahua used to steal the dirty underwear from her hamper and eat it. But Chaz hasn't been here in a few weeks and I've never found any evidence of munched undies.

And then you always hear about socks vanishing in the dryer but never whole pairs of underwear...

Very strange.

If I comment on your blog before 5pm, write me a mean message in CAPS

2007-04-24T09:21:00.000-06:00

Okay, that's it. No more messing around on the Internet today. Instead, I will endure a mild depression as I rework (for the 12455th time) a paper that I wrote over a year ago and am loving less by the minute.

I'm trying to think of school as my job and so far this week, I'm a terrible employee. Yesterday I did nothing school-related. And today, I showed up to work at 8:45 in my pajamas without my hair brushed and then proceeded to write emails and bother my sisters over facebook for 45 minutes. But now I will be a model employee (aside from the continued wardrobe problems) and get to work.

The Life and Times of Creep Toe

2007-04-19T20:55:00.000-06:00

A few summers ago, Kyle's toe got stomped by some cleat-wearing guy on an opposing slow pitch team. I think that was the first time Kyle dropped an F-bomb at his Christian slow pitch league.

Anyway, Kyle's toe was hurt pretty bad. It got all puffy and bruised with a sick blood blister. The nail was a real trooper, hanging on for days and days after it blackened. One afternoon, when Kyle wore sandals to take the dog for a walk, Chaz got excited and started jumping around. Somehow, his sharp little nail collided with Creep Toe and the blood blister exploded. Kyle came home looking like something from CSI, with a deflated toe and blood splatter all over him and the dog. Not long after, the nail fell off, the bruises went away, and Creep Toe matured to become a fairly normal looking toe aside from his thick bumpy nail.

Thankfully, we were left with more than just our memories of young Creep Toe. Before the incident with Chaz, Kyle took a whole bunch of pictures of his toe in all it's bruisy glory. As a result of Kyle's quest for the perfect image to capture the nuances of his injury, we have shots of Creep Toe in a variety of locations, angles, and lighting conditions.

Our screen saver is set to scroll through our uploaded photos, which now include about 247 images of Creep Toe. As our computer is visible from the living room, lots of guests have commented on how frequently a photo of Kyle's disgusting toe scrolls by. It's as though Creep Toe is our beloved child and our guests are treated to a slideshow of his greatest moments.

"Oh look! There he is on the bathroom counter. Look at how much he'd grown..."

"And there he is sliding around on the hardwood. How sweet!"

"Ah Creep Toe, just chillin on the front steps with his nail hanging half off."

On Being a Lazy Turd

2007-04-14T21:46:00.000-06:00

On my 25 minute walk to school, I walk up University Drive past the football Stadium where lots of students park their cars. Invariably, there are at least ten students waiting there to catch a bus that will spare them the five minute walk to campus. Typically, I walk past them self-righteously, muttering inwardly about how these lazy turds won't walk the 500m from car to class.

Anyway, this Monday I was rushing to school to meet my friend Sanni. After having already walked 20 minutes, I was passing the stadium when I noticed an approaching bus. Because I was on the verge of being late, I decided to hop on the bus, ride it to the University, and impress Sanni with my timeliness. Two minutes after embarking I rang the bell, approached the bus door, and thanked the driver. He turned to me and said without smiling, "Tomorrow you will walk the whole way to school." It was not a request but a command. Since when do bus drivers order their passengers to walk? I guess he also dislikes lazy turds. And in his world, I was one of them.

I wanted to defend myself and explain my situation. But as usual, I had nothing to say in the moment so I laughed uncomfortably and hopped off the bus. I guess now I'll have more compassion for the lazy turds of my world...but not for grouchy bus drivers.

Chaz: 3... Jamie and Kyle: 0

2007-04-07T13:18:00.000-06:00

This morning when Kyle got out of bed he was greeted with a pile of dog puke in the middle of our area rug. And we were just getting used to the pea-green stain left by the larger pile of dog vomit I found on Wednesday.

Our house is entirely floored in hardwood and tile except for the 4X6 area rug in our living room. There are a million places that Chaz could barf without leaving permanent scars. I'm beginning to think that selective puking is his only means of revenge for all the injustice and indignity he suffers at our hands: listening to my songs about how much he stinks, not being allowed to sleep in our bed, insufficient belly rubbing...

And the time before the two carpet puking incidents? He barfed on our bed, soaking through the duvet cover, down duvet, sheets, and matress cover. As I write this he's probably skulking around, trying to figure out how to unzip the garment bag that holds my wedding dress.

And Now for Something Completely Different

2007-04-07T10:47:00.000-06:00

I've had enough of snow and cold. It's time for Spring and I'm willing it into existence!

Good Friday

2007-04-06T13:38:00.000-06:00

Typically Good Friday has just been another long-weekend holiday for me but as I lay in bed this morning, I found myself thinking about how I might mark this day and make meaning of it for myself.

Unfortunately, I'll be spending much of the day writing a paper. But sitting at the computer, I've let my mind wander around the idea of the crucifixion, wondering how Good Friday fits into my faith.

A few years ago, I read about a controversial photograph taken by Andreas Serrano. The photograph is called "Piss Christ" and it depicts a crucifix submerged in a jar of the artist's urine. While many touted this piece as important to freedom of expression, others were offended, hurt, and angered by it.

But I am moved by this image. It cuts to the heart of what Christianity and Good Friday are about - an unsanitized God who joins with humanity in our vulnerability to dirtiness, pain, suffering, and abuse. And a God who responds to the ugly parts of humanness with love, compassion, and grace.

In his poem about the piece, Andrew Hudgins describes Piss Christ as depicting:
"the whole irreducible point of the faith,
God thrown in human waste, submerged and shining."

And so I am taking time today to meditate on Jesus ... submerged and shining.

How to Disgust Me

2007-03-31T00:07:00.000-06:00

Ask me to smell your hand after it's been in your ranky old hockey glove for two hours. And then gaze at me innocently, as though you haven't made this request a dozen times over the past five years.

More Than a Few of My Favourite Things

Sleeping with the Enemy

Weird Science

At least one wish came true

Year of the manatee

Is it over before it begins?

Let's give this another go...

Confession

Open Letter 2

The Lady

Some final Christmas cheer

Merry Christmas

O come, O come, EmmanuelAnd ransom captive IsraelThat mourns in lonely exile hereUntil the Son of God appearRejoice! Rejoice! EmmanuelShall come to thee, O Israel.

re⋅joice

Fifiths and Fourths

For those hard to reach places

The Rules

One of my not-so-favourite things

Trouble from above

Adventures in dog sitting

Hammacher Time!

PB Slices

Taking it to the streets!

Fiscal management

Hasidic Rain

Love that Thom York!

Patriotic scrunchies = gold!

I Heart Bowness

And we're back!

Love languages - as learned in a Romanian orphanage

Because the Highland Fling doesn't count

Moving Along

I'm learning and you can too!

On Bird Love and Things you Can Buy

Spring Rant

Family photo

The Waiting Game

Spring again!

Making the best of a bad situation

Some photos from Egypt

Not feeling so well

Home For a Rest

Egypt

Chicago

It's time for a new scene

The best policy?

T minus 46 hours

Strays

Urban Outdoorsmen

Hierarchy of Needs

Burned

Time's up!

Together at last

And the prize for weirdest birthday present goes to...

Baby Girl!

Kyle's right. They are Evil.

Wardrobe Dysfunction

Christmas 2007

Oh Christmas Tree!

When Kyle puts away the groceries

TV for blind people

The power of the mind

Full-on Winter

Does not follow directions well

New and Improved Stereotypes

Repeat, repeat, repeat

Code Yellow!

What? I didn't like the pair with the Wayans brothers on them

The Real Reason UNICEF Discontinued the Halloween Program

We Cut Down Old Growth Forests for This?

Nun Update

Sometimes it's best to buy new

Just like me - exquisitely delicate

It ain't easy being greazy

They are as dangerous as they are delicious

Shameless plug!

What time is it?

Amnesty International - "Signature"

Blogging isn't the only thing that isn't getting done around here

Ouch

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.