Confessions of an Oenophile

RIP Nyac

2008-09-27T12:22:00.000-07:00

Nyac was made famous by being rescued from the Exon Valdez oil spill in 1989, giving birth at the aquarium and of course for the YouTube video of her and Milo rafting.

When Brent and I got memberships to the Vancouver Aquarium for a year we immediately fell in love with the otters. They are so adorable and I think what I like about them the most is that they do things that are so "human-like" in their little furry cute way! Sometimes for fun (go ahead and laugh), we pretend to 'raft'!

Unfortunately, Nyac was already sick and was being monitored behind the scenes so we never got to see her. Brent surprised me one day with an "Animal Encounter" with the otters where we went behind the scenes and learned more about them, prepared the gucky seafood gut meal, and fed Milo. I just loved how he held his food in his little hands and ate off his chest! Brent's favourite are the Sea Lions. Their barks sound "burpy".

Brent's concerned rant over Milo:

"Poor Milo! What is he going to do? He is going to be so lonely now with no one to raft with. He can't go in with the other two otters because he doesn't get along well with other males. They need to find another Nyac for Milo! He is still young... so that would be a lot of time alone without her."

This part was kind of poignant as there is a little parallel between Milo and I. Nyac was sick and away from Milo for most of the summer and on September 23, she passed away. Tonight, (because it is a weekend night) some girlfriends and I are doing our annual (and goofy) 'tribute' in an undisclosed body of water at an undisclosed time doing one thing by which every man (and otter) wishes he were remembered. This one is for you two!

Happy Birthday, David!

2008-08-13T09:23:00.000-07:00

I still miss you.

My Acceptance Speech

2008-03-28T07:39:00.000-07:00

First, and foremost, I would like to express my gratitude to Tim. After weeks of pleading for a chance to win, he finally saw it fit to grant me my wish. At first, I joked about winning a chance to try again, but the humour wore off quite quickly. It took a lot of coffees, and a lot of trips to the bathroom, but after 3 weeks of buying a coffee almost every single day, I rolled up the rim and saw not "PLEASE TRY AGAIN/SVP ESSAYER ENCORE", but "WIN/GAGNE UN BEIGNE/DONUT"! Mr. Horton: you may have been an alright hockey player, but you are a champion in my books.

On another note, I wonder how he would feel about having donut holes names after him? Bits of Tim? I am not sure how I would like to be remembered: pieces of Karen? I might be uncomfortable with that. I would just like to say that the "widow dip" was a tremendous commemorative gesture wasn't it, Krista? Next September we should eat Timbits afterwards with our hot chocolate/tea. It sounds almost sacramental....

Goofy Smiles

2008-03-27T07:44:00.000-07:00

This morning on the bus, I noticed a woman with an incredibly goofy smile on her face while and in between checking her phone for text messages. It was the kind of smile that can only be brought on by a "boy". It made me smile right back (it is really contagious) and think of all of the times I find myself curling the corners of my mouth in a rather goofy smile.

1. When I get a flirty text message (preferably from a boy-- sorry, Krista.)

2. When I smell fresh baking, a BBQ, or just about anything foodish.

3. When I see a toddler trying to run, swaggering and stomping their feet.

4. When I catch myself having done something rather clumsy and foolish and I figure that no one caught me.

5. Just about any song on my ipod, especially a Jimmy Buffet song about a smart woman in real short skirt.

6. Bubbles and balloons.

7. Cookies. Duh.

8. When I remember something funny or sweet. Usually something said to me (my love language), or done for me (my secondary love language).

9. When I finally get the punch line to a joke.

Oh, there are probably a gazillion reasons why I would smile goofy and slightly mischievious... I am always thinking of something.

Things that I Have Learned This Week

2008-03-16T16:50:00.000-07:00

1. The act of potting plants takes about 10-20 minutes. THINKING about potting the plants, can take much longer.

2. Sometimes the transplant is not successful and the new pot rejects the plant. This made me very sad.

3. Sometimes being a designated driver means that one can end up with jiffy marker "henna" on their right hand while driving said drunk home.

4. Permanent marker means it is hard to completely wash off one's hand, but it can still transfer to the face while sleeping.

5. Designated drivers can look like they are recovering from a rowdy drinking binge, even after staying quite sober all evening.

6. Craigslist is AWESOME.

Cat and Rats and Coffee-- OH MY!

2008-02-28T07:44:00.000-08:00

When I let the cats in last night, they brought with them a mouse. ACK! Not in either of their mouths, though. He just scooted in! Aries got right on it and started chasing him. Cyan just sat in the middle of the floor and started cleaning himself. It all happened so fast, I couldn't be sure if the mouse ran into one of the shoes on the shoe rack, or if it ran back outside. I grabbed the mop and started poking and Aries got in there and sniffed and searched. Really. I was amazed that this cat who runs away from me, was actively seeking out this vermin! I cheered him on from my perch on the couch to KILL HIM DEAD! Cyan looked up once or twice to see what all the fuss was about and went back to cleaning himself.

I never did find out if the mouse had escaped out the door again, or if it is still hiding somewhere. I nearly took all of A's shoes and threw them outside. Nearly. The thought of the mouse jumping out of one of the shoes and crawling down my shirt held me back. Not that I don't think A would mind having his shoes thrown outside.... Besides... I wasn't feeling too well yesterday.

I was trying to figure out why my head felt so fuzzy and I felt so off in the morning, and then it occurred to me that I drank a bottle of wine the night before. I may have been hungover. BUT. I started feeling worse as the day wore on and I began to fear that I have contracted the flu bug that my office has been incubating. I seem to feel OK this morning, and I am hoping that it stays that way until Saturday and I am all moved into my place.

On another note: on my way to work today I counted 1 Tim Horton's, 2 Artigiano's, 3 Blenz, and 7 Starbucks. There may have been 8, but I wasn't sure if I should count the one in Pacific Center because I couldn't actually see it.

Over the last week...

2008-02-20T07:59:00.000-08:00

I know... MORE about cats. I am a little fascinated by these four legged fur balls. Like why do they crap on the floor next to the litter box? (OK, maybe it needs to be cleaned) AND why do they cover it up with a receipt?

Why are they OK with me waking up at 6 am every other day of the week, but on SATURDAYS they wake me up at 4:30 or 5:00??

For someone who isn't a cat person I am loving these guys anyways. When I get home, Aries runs to the bedroom, hops on the bed, and meows until I come to cuddle with him.
At night, both of them curl up by my feet.

Krista and I had our RTE (Retail Therapy Expedition) to Bellingham on Saturday night. SO FUN. We had burgers at Bob's and absconded with a few jam packages from the table cuz they looked cool. We karaoked, found some new candies, took pictures, and made each other gag. GOOD TIMES. Made it through the border with over $300 worth of Hershey's kisses, jeans, tops, bottle of wine, and gifts for her nephews. AND we actually CLAIMED it all ('cept maybe the wine, but they didn't ask)and they let us through without paying duty!!!

Monday, I had my Marketing class and our group got together after class to do some "research" for our project at the pub. Our project is on the marketing strategy of Granville Island Brewery. Since the BCIT pub doesn't serve Granville Island, we had to do a comparison analysis. My group ROCKS.

Yesterday, I set off the smoke detector doing my hair. I felt so bad, that I called upstairs to apologize and tell them that everything was OK. But, I woke them up a second time by calling them. YAY ME.

Got some help packing last night and that made me happy. There just seems to be too much too much to do and so little time to do it. So I bought J some pizza and he showed me his new dance moves while he packed. I scraped my magnetic poetry off my fridge-- SO weird that it STUCK to the fridge the way it did. I have to figure out how to get the black marks off.

I think that about wraps it up.

Happy Vomit Day!

2008-02-14T11:07:00.000-08:00

I woke up a few times last night to Cyan wretching and then hopping on the bed to stick his nose to mine (UGH!)... so it came as NO SURPRISE that I had to make a few leaps to the bathroom in the morning to avoid stepping in the puke ALL. OVER. THE. FLOOR.

Happy Valentines Day from the cats.

I feel a little responsible, though... I mean, I ran out of the good cat food so as a backup I fed them the cheap back-up stuff until I could get some the next morning. I think I remember Cyan puking last time A fed them that. NOW I know. SO poor cat. POOR ME.

THEN

There was a "police incident" up Hastings today so the buses were redirected and my bus conveniently didn't stop at my bus stop. So I had to take a different bus that got me as close as the Courthouse. I had a walk a ways to work. It was OK.

A is away for another week and won't be home until NEXT weekend now, so I will get my valentines day on another day. I am OK with that. I bought a case of beer on my way to my accounting mid-term last night. I only made it half way there, and then turned back and decided that I have taken on too much this semester and I want to succeed at my Marketing course so Accounting will have to wait until next semester. I am burnt.

The beer was good.

I went upstairs last night and enjoyed watching Isabel (A's niece) make valentines day cards for her classmates. That is what the day should be about. Homemade valentines day cards and cookies. Why did it get so complicated?

Adventures in Feline-Sitting

2008-02-13T21:00:00.000-08:00

I have never been a cat person. I like dogs. Chocolate labs especially. Maybe I have never cared much for cats because they make me not breathe well. I am so allergic. Since lately I have been around two hairballs a lot, I went to see my doctor about what I can do about it. She shook her head when I told her what happens after a few hours with cats and prescribed me antihistamines, steroid nasal spray, and an inhaler. It has certainly made it easier to cope. Especially since I volunteered to sit on the cats for A while he took off to film a movie up the coast. It was really a scratch my post and I'll scratch yours kind of arrangement. I am only a 15 minute bus ride to work from his place, so I live here during the week while he is gone, and then I go home for the weekend to pack up my house (oh yeah, I am renting a place in Vancouver starting March 1st).

Cyan is a Burmese cat who TALKS, and TALKS, AND TALKS.... Aries is a VERY timid tabby who runs if you come too close to him. He will come to you when he wants to be pet. Cyan misses A the most. He loves being mauled-- and I don't do that. Probably why Aries loves me so much. Last weekend, when A was back he noticed that Aries runs to the door when I come over-- he says that Aries has NEVER done that before.

So every night, I hear a rustling paper noise when I turn out the lights. It stops when I turn them back on again, so I couldn't figure out WHAT THE HECK Cyan was up to! So one night, when I heard it I managed to catch him in the art room where he had crawled into a paper bag on the futon. Weird cat.

THEN

On SATURDAY MORNING, when I was looking forward to getting a little extra sleep, they start taking turns walking on my bladder. Cyan walks around me on the bed in circles: head to toe. Oh yeah, did I mention that this was at 5 AM?! GEEZ.

They crap on the carpet, too. UGH. I refuse to touch the litter. That is A's job when he is back.

But here is the weird part: I have fallen into a bit of a routine every day after work. I take my antihistamine, and lie down for a little *ahem* cat nap. Aries comes as soon as I lie down and curls up next to me and I scratch his face, belly, and behind his ears. It is so CUTE! When he naps, he curls up and twists his head so that he is resting the TOP of his head on the blanket.

I didn't think that I was becoming a cat person until I went to a movie last night and I couldn't WAIT to come home to cuddle with Aries.... Maybe I just miss A.

Lil' Country Girl in a Big 'Ol City

2008-01-29T17:38:00.000-08:00

Day 2

Prologue (cuz some 'splainin is needed):

In December, my face broke out something fierce. Yes, at 28 I found myself battling an upward unrelenting battle with acne. Blame it on the stress, environmental factor, or maybe stupid 'ol hormones... either way it was getting harder and harder to cover up. I tried a skin care product recommended by a friend (it worked great for her!) but it aggravated my skin even more. Finally I went to my doctor and said uncle about the whole situation. He stuck a prescription for two creams in my relinquished hands. I was advised that I would experience a little redness and a slight burning sensation immediately following application-- no problem. Oh, and it would dry my skin out and might peel a little-- no problem. NO PROBLEM. But after two days, the peeling was out of control, the redness was accompanied with a little swelling, and the burning! The stinging! OH MY GAWD. Monday night, I applied the night time gel and with a shriek I promptly washed it off. Like acid. My poor face. My poor INSANE face (THANKS, Sarah...!).

On with it...

So this morning, I gingerly washed my burning face and sucked back the tears as I tried to apply makeup to cover up the redness. It felt so good to walk outside in the cold. Oh yes. And it snowed. A lot. And it was still snowing. I didn't have my boots with me so I walked to the bus stop in my little loafers. By the time I boarded GBD's (Grumpy Bus Driver's) bus my hair was soaked and a mess, With a flourish, I showed him my new-found skill of inserting my bus ticket into the reader/stamper thing.

His bus was so hot, I wanted to cry. But no. I decided that I would smile. Did you see that? That was a smile. Did you miss it? Here, let me smile again for you.

GBD was in fine form today. I guess the snow added to his standard grumpiness. At one point, he opened his door to give someone the finger and he colourfully gave the unsuspecting driver feedback on his left-hand turning skills.

On my way to the nearest coffee shop (and I had the pick of three, so I chose the one with the shortest line), I learned the importance of keeping away from the curb (common sense maybe, but sometimes a little reminder of HOW deep those slush puddles get helps). Oh, and on the corner we have our very own fatalistic-sandwich-board-toting-conspiracy-theory-chicken little. He is concerned about the CIA stealing his mind and he is beseeching assistance from the general public of the downtown Vancouver core.

After work (Left to the bus stop), I made it back, popped an antihistamine, took a puff from my inhaler, and curled up on the bed with the cats.

Lil' Country Girl in a Big 'Ol City

2008-01-28T17:31:00.000-08:00

Day 1

I survived my first experience of commuting into downtown Vancouver. What for? For my *new* job, of course!

The day started off being introduced to GBD (Grumpy Bus Driver). I couldn't figure out which way to insert the fare ticket into the reader/stamper thing. After a couple of tries, the driver says, "NO. follow the picture!". So I try again. And again. And, ever so irritated, he says, "There are only two ways it could go in." (Four, actually). Flustered, I say desperately, "I'm SORRY!!! I'm trying!!" Finally, I get it and I make it to the back with the standing commuter hostages and grab a pole. Hmmmm... Dancing was the farthest thing from my mind... but I will surely think of it tomorrow now that it just came to me.

I got a little turned around once I got off the bus. I walked one way for a few minutes, and then turned and walked the other direction until I saw something familiar but I forgot the address because I figured that I would recognize the building when I saw it. I *always* remember places after I have been there once before... but it became slightly different when I found that all of the buildings looked a lot like the others: Big, tall, and architecturally non-descript buildings.

I, no doubt, found a coffee place for my break. There are a lot of choices here! And after work, I had memorized the directions given to me by my co-workers. Right to buy bus tickets, and left to get to the bus stop, Right to buy bus tickets, and left to get to the bus stop, right.... to the bus stop? I walked left to buy the bus tickets. After a minute or two, I thought better of it and started in the other direction; I sheepishly ran into a co-worker. "I know, I know... RIGHT to buy the bus tickets."

I am more comfortable stopping people to ask for directions than they are at giving them. But, most of the people I stopped turned out to be tourists and no more lost than I. They were probably reciting in their heads, "Right at the Starbucks, Left at the pizza place...." and I messed them up.

By the time I got off the bus and stood at the cross walk, I wished I had a hat to fling in the air while I sang that I was "going to make it after all!"

(Oh yeah, and I like my job so far-- but it is not nearly as exciting as the adventures of commuting down town!)

Three Tiers of Diapers

2008-01-27T15:58:00.000-08:00

A Picture Story

Our dear friend Cory has a dinner roll in the oven so Chrissy and I decided to do something different for her baby shower: roll up some diapers and make a cake! Here is the picture story about our creation from ex-nihilo to three tiers of environmentally- unsound- landfill- bound- absorbent- garments.

Chrissy rolled the diapers.

I stuck them in the elastic. The bottle will make sure that the layers won't shift.

We rolled blankets to wrap around each layer as the "icing".

....And I mixed it all together....
(But we used the wooden spoon to hold the top layer on... Cory can also use the spoon next time she puts one of hers through the blender)

We found a duck that says a prayer as a cake topper. He needed a diaper so we gave him one.

The finished product!!!

Taa-daa!!!

Please, baby? One little kick???

A little caffeine will help.

There it is!!!!

The three and 8/9ths friends!

**THE END**

PS..... I Love You

2008-01-23T01:38:00.000-08:00

I was going to go to see "27 Dresses" tonight. Every once in a while, I like to go on dates with myself. At first, I will admit, that wasn't the intention and I sought for someone to come with me. But I am so glad that I had this little date with myself.

In fact, I didn't go to see "27 Dresses"-- I saw "PS. I Love You" instead. *sigh* I should have known to bring a big box of tissue because I ran out of napkins from my poutine half way through and my sleeve was getting pretty disgusting.

I walked into the theater for the late show and it was empty. I actually laughed out loud, feeling slightly loser-ish. I had the pick of the theater for a seat. A couple people trickled in before the movie started, and wouldn't you know it: these three girls come in just as the movie was starting and sat. right. behind. me. This would have been okay if they weren't occasionally kicking my seat, talking really loudly, sucking on candy loudly, and THEN. Oh MY gosh, one girl's phone rings-- and she ANSWERS IT.

"hey.... how are you?.... I'm just in a movie right now....yeah....Really?! She said that?....."

ARGH. Having a personal moment here with my poutine, soggy sleeve, and BASEBALL BAT.

Singing (loudly) Anyway

2008-01-22T14:01:00.000-08:00

I rediscovered a favourite way of regrouping: turning up the radio in my car and singing at the top of my lungs and sometimes --if the music moves me to do so, bust a move or two.

It clears my head.

Yesterday I needed some good head clearing, so I had a slightly embarrassing session of yelling the lyrics to some 80's song. I don't even remember which song it was, and likely couldn't remember half the lyrics, but dang, it felt supah good.

Why hang your head, when you can let your hair down and shake it?!

Just a rhetoric question (I think I know the answer to it): Why do hurting people hurt people? I won't deny my own guilt (having been no stranger to pain, myself), but when I was ready to wave the white flag, the hammer got dropped on my foot. I hate being misunderstood, and accused for things that I never had a chance to do or not do.

Bottom line: Regardless of how long I was married and whatever struggles we had, we had a life planned together. We loved each other deeply. His heart weighed a solid 490g and he gave it to me on May 14, 2005. We vowed to follow each other to the ends of the earth. That just happened to be sooner than we had expected. I don't care anymore whether my in-laws supported the marriage or not (apparently they didn't), and I won't try to defend myself any longer. I give up. And I pray God's blessings on them. And I offer nothing but forgiveness.

Romans 12:14-21
14Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.^[c] Do not be conceited.

17Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. 18If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,"^[d]says the Lord. 20On the contrary:
"If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head."^[e] 21Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Now, all of that aside. I am going over to my stereo to gonna bust several moves and raise my voice:

POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME.....!!!!! C'mon fire me up!!!!

Suggestions Schmuggeschtions...

2008-01-15T16:14:00.000-08:00

So Gmail is a web-based email provider that you can only have if you get an invitation from a current user. Quite elite, eh? So I am a member of the unlimited sized inbox club, which means that I never have to clean up my inbox. It's kind of like my closet.

Anyways, I am introducing Gmail (TA-DAH!) to explain a feature that daily baffles me. It picks up on certain words in my emails, and using a suggestive advertising marketing approach (see? I am learning stuff) it lists some web site suggestions. I get most of these-- they make sense... but SOME... seriously? What have I been SAYING?

These ones I get:

Dragon Boat Net - www.dragonboatnet.com - The ultimate web site for paddlers New Movie: When the Dragons sleep DUH.

Hawaii Airfares Sale - www.CheapoAir.com - Very Cheap Tickets to Hawaii Save 65% on Next Trip, All Airlines If you know that I went to Maui on my last vacation, then this one makes sense.

Sofa Slipcovers - www.TheSofaSite.com - Free Sofa Slipcovers info Find what you're looking for!
Not sure about which email this one came from, but I am a furniture geek.

Baby Gender: Boy or Girl? - www.choosethesexofyourbaby.com - Conceive a Baby Boy or Girl at Will in 3 Simple Steps with 94% Accuracy I have pregnant friends, OK?

Red Lion Hotel - www.redlion.com - Don't Miss This Red Hot Deal! Stay At Red Lion Hotel & get 15% off! My FAVOURITE US hotel chain. They have Bath and Body Works toiletries!!!

Apple pie recipe - www.canadianliving.com/recipes - Tested Till Perfect recipes Fast, easy and delicious! Angela, you will understand this one. We like apple pie, don't we?

These ones, I really don't get:

Photos: That's in my Gut? - www.BlessedHerbs.com - This site guarantees to remove really gross stuff from your gut. I only eat pretty stuff. Right.

Blackheads Removal Guide - Blackheads-Removal-Guide-web.com - Get Rid of Blackheads and Have Shiny Healthy Skin OK, OK, my skin isn't as clear as it could be... Let's not make a big deal about it. (Maybe it is from the stuff that is or isn't in my gut?)

www.DateACougar.com - Female Cougars On The Prowl. 100% Free. Join Now
Mm-hm.

www.peterpotty.com - The only flushable toddler urinal. Easiest way to train boys!
This one and the one above wouldn't have anything to do with the little boy who feeds me brownies, would it?

Funny Redhead Tee Shirts - www.realmofredheads.com/store - Funny, sassy t-shirts for redheads. Cool unique gift for any redhead. Hello! Cute brunette, here.

The Answer For Tall Girls - www.longlegs.ca - In Style Fashions For Tall Women The Latest Trends In Longer Lengths *Ahem* Cute, short, brunette.

Debbie Does Dalls tees - 80sTees.com - Check out great tees from classic Debbie Does Dallas!
No idea.

Free Fart Videos - AmazingFartVideos.com - 10 Farts That Shook The World Captured On Video! Really. Haven't a clue. (Krista, shush)

Update 01/18/08:

Dangerous Kissing Tips - DoubleYourDating.com - Powerful Kissing Tips To Make Him/Her Melt In Your Mouth & In Your Hands! I LOVE THIS ONE!!! Watch out!!!

Kissing the Boys and Making them Cry

2008-01-13T12:31:00.000-08:00

Now that I am back in school, I am back to procrastinating doing my homework. I have some marketing reading to do, and some accounting to hit myself over the head with. Why, oh why, does it not BALANCE???

I have to tell you about the cute guy I met! He is blond, has blue eyes, is about 2 and a half feet tall, and at the ripe age of three. His name is Kade and he is my friend's youngest son. We really bonded in the summer at Ambleside, and I didn't realise how much of an impression I made on him, until I went over to his place for a game's night and he sat down beside me, put his arm around me, and said, "I missed you, you know!". He makes such a great date! He fed me his brownie, and gave me a kiss goodnight-- boys, take notes. Apparently, after I left, he cried. I have asked his parents if I can take him out on dates, and they (happy to get the kid off their hands for a few hours) agreed.

I am pleased to be his first crush! This little guy will break many hearts once he gets over the fact that I have a boyfriend. :-)

New Years Goals: She shoots! She....

2008-01-05T14:36:00.000-08:00

This is the year that Karen loses 30 lbs. And apparently talks about herself in the third person. So there. I said it. You can all hold me to it, and I can tell you my excuses of why I am not there yet. To actually help me stay accountable, I have a contest going with a couple of friends. Every time we lose a pound we drop a loonie into the jar and whoever has the highest percentage of weight loss after *blank* amount of time wins the pot. Starting Monday.

So yesterday I decided that my first shopping of the new year should reflect my resolve. So I filled my basket with fruits and vegetables. And soy milk. And two bars of dark chocolate. Hey, I need a reward. I found these little mini rice cakes with a little chocolate drizzled on it that would make great little snacks. AND it said in BIG. BOLD. LETTERS. that they are only 90 calories each little bag! Suffice it to say that this morning when I went to grab a snack, I noticed that there was only one left. Out of the 6 that were in the box. But they are only 90 calories each right?

I don't like to set resolutions... no one keeps them longer than a week, and it is unmeasureable. Immeasureable? Whatever. Gyms get their most business in January, so I don't really want to go to one until February when most people have broken their resolutions and are lamenting at home with a bucket of Ben and Jerry's. Or Light Ice Cream. Or 6 90 calorie bags of mini chocolate drizzled rice cakes.

I think goals set more of a target to shoot for. Like I want to read more. I want to get A's and B's in my classes-- oof! I want to drink 8 glasses of water a day-- so back to having a post-it by my monitor to count the glasses of water I drink. We know about the 30 lbs.... I should probably weigh myself sometime soon, but I don't keep a scale in my house. For obvious reasons. It is a household hazard. I used to always stub my toe on it. And my excersize ball! Don't get me started!

Most importantly, I want to get my life right with God. He gave me life-- twice. I owe him more than I can give him. This year I have been doing my own thing and it clearly hasn't sit right with me given my last few really deep and thoughtful posts.... So here we go!

Merry Christmas from the geek in me to the geek in you!

2007-12-24T18:37:00.000-08:00

(You can find more geeky stuff here)

Promises and Memories

2007-12-10T18:02:00.000-08:00

Willow tree figurines have been special to me from the moment I first saw them, and now they are even more precious.

I started collecting them when I first met my husband. He got me the "Together" figurine for my birthday and proposed to me later that year. My family started to catch on that I liked Willow Tree so I started getting and giving the angels as gifts.

For our first Christmas after we were married, Dave gave me the first installment to my nativity set (the leading roles of the Christmas story) with the promise that each year he would add to it until I had the whole Nativity collection. We never had a second Christmas together. In September of 2005 we were in a car accident together and he didn't make it. We were moving up to Fort St. John where he had started a new job and had been working for the two and a half months prior. I stayed behind to pack up our place and get things ready for the move and he came down a couple days before the moving day. When he arrived, he presented me with a final Willow Tree figurine called "Promise". Two days later, my life changed. I hold on the promises he gave me. Promises that he will never leave me, that he will go to the ends of the earth for me, and that he will always take care of me. In such a way, God makes us promises as a husband just as He is a Father, King, Friend, Comforter....

Nothing is the same as it once was. Nothing except the promises and the memories. I often wonder what he would think of all that has happened over the last year. To some things, he would be shocked and appalled. To other things he would simply be saddened that he can't fix them. But I hope that if he were to see me, and how I have managed through it all, he would be proud. He would rejoice over the strengthened relationships with my family. He would remind me of the choice that he made when he married me while other people have forgotten them.

I just opened up my box of Christmas decorations for the first time since the accident (everything was in storage last year while I recovered), and I was flooded with memories. Christmas does that. Every year, I still try to find the Christmas tree farm with the Winnie-the-Pooh house where we went as kids. I watch "A Christmas Story", "The Snowman", "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas", and occasionally the animated "Rudolph". Come to think of it, TV holds far too many memories of Christmas that it should! I remember how on our first Christmas together we made such a huge breakfast that we invited our landlords to come and help us eat it, and there were still leftovers and other baked goodies that I made! I had bought a Christmas tree that year from the back of some guy's truck in a Wal-Mart parking lot. It was the perfect size, but for reasons that may have been obvious had we checked (like the tree was sitting flush in the stand) the tree was as dry and as brittle as Dennis Rodman's hair. A fire hazard for sure. Dave chopped it up for tinder with his circular saw.

In the box of Christmas ornaments, there was the "First Christmas Together" ornament with our engagement picture that was given to us by my mother, a piece of that first Christmas tree with the year 2005 written on it, but most poignant was my nativity set. I hope to keep adding to it as the years go on because it isn't just memories that I am holding on to; I am holding on to the promise that my life is not yet fulfilled and to every other promise God has for my life. There is more yet to come.

Thank you all for being a part of past, present, and future chapters of my life.

Fear of Missing Something

2007-11-08T07:30:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the things that at first seem to be the most benign, can turn out to be the antonym. And like a cancer it grows and it never just hurts the one with the problem. We make excuses, we justify, we ignore it, but soon (and what better time than now) it becomes unavoidable.

Sunday, I went to my old church in Edmonton. Pastor D delivered a message that angered me. I wished that I hadn't heard it not because I didn't agree with it, but because I did. It was about integrity, and how we live out what we believe so that we can live in the world, but not of it. I tried to ignore it, and the truth is that once one is reminded of what they believe, the lessons get tougher the more it is ignored. And now the pieces fall.

I am trying to understand who I am and who I have become. When the reset button was pressed and nothing was the same, I started building haphazardly and blindly. I forgot about the cornerstones and the blueprints. Now as I stand back, I don't recognize what I built and structurally it is not sound. It is hurting people as things fall.

Near death can make one feel invincible-- I have wanted to live carefree and escape the darkness of the fallout from the tragedy. So I have been running, making it look like dancing with a smile on my face and ignoring until my carefree turned into careless.

What now? In the wake of my errors, I can be thankful that I have been learned. I may not be able to fix or get back what I have lost, but I have a knowledge in my custody with which I must do something. And wisdom is what one does with knowledge. I am aware, and forbid that I miss this lesson.

A Widow Dip

2007-09-30T02:30:00.000-07:00

How Karen Got Her Groove Back

2007-09-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

Have I left you all hanging long enough? My off-season cross training activity is... drum roll, please... hip-shaking, chest-rolling, belly dancing! I stand in front of a mirror and make peace with my jelly, and hopefully as we become friends we can do a each other little favour: I show it off and it shall tighten up. There are muscles to whom I havn't spoken in a while, and I am challenged by making them move in new ways.

It's amazing how reserved and stiff we can be until we are moving our bodies with other women, showing off our bellies, and jingling scarves around our waists. We learn how to loosen up and giggle while we jiggle... Bill Cosby, eat your heart out! I seriously need to loosen up, though. I will be practicing in the car, doing dishes, taking out the trash, talking on the phone.... I hope that by Christmas I will be jingling my bells around my hips.

I'm fall-ing in love...

2007-09-25T17:50:00.000-07:00

...with the most WONderful season of the year! The air is crisp and full of more smells than a high school, and the trees are as colourful as the well clad folk walking under them. I love the knit sweaters, the knee high boots, the scarves, the wool jackets, the hats.... Apples taste better than in any other season, wineries reveal their latest vintages, and a homemade stew warms the heart, soul, and body.

Fall prepares us for the cleansing of the winter in order to bring us the new birth of spring, an even though the leaves and the grass seem almost dead at my feet, I feel most alive knowing the fall marks change for me. Death brings new life, and grief should stir change and hope in us. The end of a year is approaching and I feel a confidence and motivation stirring in me to begin setting the table to voraciously take in the possibilities laid out for me. I shall raise a glass of a 2005 Sumac Ridge Cabernet/Merlot and with a tear toast the past with all of its memories of joys and sorrows, and drink to the year to come.

Now, if you will excuse me.... I am going to make myself a cup of tea, dust off my TV for the first of a few long anticipated season premieres.

Let it Ride....

2007-09-24T21:47:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I hang up my paddle and PFD after a glorious season of dragon boating. We paddled up and down the river tonight, as normal, but it felt so final when we pulled the 6-16 (type of dragon boat we use) out of the water, portaged it up to the boathouse, and parallel parked it next to the other boats. I reminisced how we paddled through the then high and raging waters, then to the low and calm waters now. We paddled through clouds of mosquitoes and waves created by careless boaters. We paddled through rain, hail, and heat.

Memories of the teammates, beer, burgers, chants, belches, and so much more will stir me to smile. Not to forget the accomplishments of five regattas, three medals, and one ribbon! I am unsure whether I will be paddling with this team next year as I start to plan for the rest of my life, but there is no doubt that dragon boating will be part of those plans!

There IS one more practice on Thursday as there is one boat still in the river for winter training, but I will not be attending. I have other plans. Should I share? Or should I just leave you all hanging until Thursday night? I will give you a hint: It focuses on core strength which is a great cross training exercise for the off-season. Oh yes, and it requires some... rhythm.

I will miss my team, pub nights, and yes, I will continue to miss my cute hat. I still keep an eye out with the hopes that one day it will find its way back to me. Like a message in a bottle, it drifts with my heart to some far off land where it shall rest, and frolic with other cute hats. I digress...

FINISH! IT! NOW!......Let it ride.... Cheers!

Huli Happens - A lesson in leaning

2007-09-19T17:30:00.000-07:00

The Fraser River might have been a little chilly and icky, but some conditions just don't stop us paddlers! Take this weekend, for instance: we had our final regatta in Kelowna and while Saturday was gorgeous, Sunday was treacherous with 2 foot swells-- and we paddled anyways. We accept that dragon boating, canoeing, kayaking, and doing dishes are all water sports.

The Fort Langley Canoe Club just bought an OC6 (an Outrigger Canoe that seats 6 paddlers), and we have all been excited about paddling Hawaiian style in the Bedford Channel. An OC6 is a much skinnier canoe with a beam on one side and consequently has a propensity to flip, or "huli". So in order to have permission to take this new toy out, we must attend a huli clinic.

The anatomy of an Outrigger Canoe:

Yesterday, we portaged the OC6 down a few blocks and launched it into the river. We stood in the rain while we learned the what's-its and who's-thats of the vessel and then we piled into the canoe and paddled out to the middle of the river to huli and recover. Brrr! We leaned to the right, grabbed the left gunwal, and over we went! Seat 1 collects the paddles, seats 2 and 5 straddle the bottom of the boat, seats 3 and 4 hang onto the ama while 2 and 5 flip their legs around and stand on the mukus. They reach over the gunwal and grab the iakos and as 3 & 4 give the ama a push, the weight redistributes, the ama flips around and hits the water with a loud THWACK, and Bob's your uncle. We climbed in, we bailed, and paddled like hell. Just to make sure we had the technique down, we rinsed and repeated 4 times. OK, it was a shivering good time! Exhilarating! Some of us couldn't get enough of it! In fact, I hope to catch the next clinic just so that I can do it again! I plan on having my personal photographer, Krista, there to document it.

To learn more about Outrigger Canoes and hulis visit Pogue Sports Canoe Club. There are pictures of the huli, and the canoe in the pictures is identical to the one that we flipped.

Happy Birthday, Dave.

2007-08-13T11:05:00.001-07:00

I miss you.

"Well, life on the farm is kinda laid back..."

2007-08-08T15:15:00.000-07:00

I just returned from the land of "Simpsons" skies and Saskatoon berry pies. Oh, how I love going back to my genealogical roots! One would think that a girl who was raised amongst traffic jams would feel so out of place on a rural farm with home made jams, but home is where the food is.

I was visiting my old college buddy Bonnie, and stayed with her, her fiance, and his family on their farm. With nine mouths to feed, I was impressed by how effortlessly everyone was fed until we all rolled home on Monday vowing to return to our diets. Meals went like this: The men shovelled manure outside, and the women congregated in the kitchen picking up various tasks to efficiently assemble the consumable goods. I was pleased that I had the opportunity to contribute by making a gravy for the Sunday night turkey supper. I loved being a part of this "tradition", and my heart was at peace with the fellowship and camaraderie in that kitchen.

Saturday was a wedding planning day, so Bonnie, her mom, and I drove around to four dress shops to discover that they were all closed the WHOLE weekend because Monday was a holiday! Our last stop was the only bridal store in Saskatoon making money that weekend, and Bonnie fell in love-- again. I had to choke back and conceal a tear that formed at my eye when I saw her in her dress. After meeting Pat at their engagement party, I can honestly say that she has chosen well on both counts.

The mineral spa in Watrous has "golden" waters. At least that is what they call it so that we don't feel so bad for spending $12.75 to brine in a murky, salty pool for a few hours. The salt in the water gives a weightless buoyancy and it is a challenge to try to sink. Of course, that would mean risking putting one's head in the water, and I was getting enough of a taste as it was. The minerals in the water are said to benefit the skin, nervous system, and lymphatic system. Primarily the skin. Which means that it gently exfoliates the skin. While relaxing in the water. What happens to the skin? You betcha. Like a filmy layer on top of gravy. I was reminded of this as I was fixing the gravy for that night's supper. I may have lost a lot of dead skin, but I may have gained it back proportionately. Here is a link to the website, and there are some pictures that make the water appear less than "golden": http://www.manitousprings.ca/. It DOES look "golden"... like Grey Poupon. Pardon me....

We stopped at a few of the fields to inspect the canola crops for worms. I got to taste a ripe pod of canola (tastes oily) and a green pod (tastes like greasy peas). I asked about the "yield" and apparently I sounded more like a city girl. So I asked if Pat used "genetically modified canola seed, that was genetically modified for controlling the weeds and for big old yields and margarine oil".... He did. There were wheat fields, flax fields, and barley fields all around and it was so beautiful. I considered how I would re-invent Settlers of Cataan. It would include Alpacas (of course) with whom I made acquaintance at Bonnie's mom's, and cows (from Pat and Bonnie's pasture). Oh, the cows. Holy cow, they like to poop. They were making me giggle and blush and look away because when one stopped pooping, another started. I never said that I was a farm girl, but I like that the Alpacas poop in one spot and they seem to have better control of their bodily functions.

As my plane rose above the fluffy clouds (Okay, I will be honest, it was raining on Monday...) I dreamt of one day day getting my acreage-- not necessarily a farm. I would raise Alpacas (of course), have my own sustainable vegetable garden, grow a big 'punkin patch, and farm Christmas trees. Okay, well farming Christmas trees is not much like farming cows and canola.
Hopefully I can return again before the wedding next year but for now, I will miss the golden fields, "golden" waters, and golden friendships in Saskatchewan.

Uh-Oh...

2007-08-01T13:32:00.000-07:00

I just shattered a Corell plate at work. Aren't those supposed to be unbreakable?

It is an alarming trend.

I have put together a list of things that I need:

- A pocket-sized broom
- A plastic set of dishes
- Crazy glue (either for my hands as Hillary suggested, or to repair the less-shattered things)
- A lesson or two on (un)break dancing
- A Kit-Kat
- 15 mins
- A jar of vitamins
- A rubber room
- A sign from the back of a bus: "Thanks for the Brake"
- A roll of "Fragile" stickers
- A new jar of Chili sauce (actually, I think I am done with the chili sauce for a while)
- A "mocha swirl" martini glass from Pier 1 Imports
- A night light
- A puppy

To Be Adored

2007-07-31T16:40:00.000-07:00

I lack nothing, but I miss much; when so much is lost, so much is given. I still marvel at how the tangible can be replaced with that which is impalpable: peace, joy, comfort, love, hope.

I had forgotten until this weekend who I was, who I am, and who I am created to be. I fell asleep last fall knowing where I was, who I was, and where I was going; I woke up and everything had changed. All that I had known and planned for was irrevocably altered. I think back to that moment, when a hand was on my forehead and my emptiness was filled with comfort.

I still grieve. I will continue to grieve as I go from strength to strength. I grieve the love we shared and the plans we had. Most recently, I grieve because I am not alone. The emotions flood back, but this time, I feel the sadness through the wisdom and joy that I have had added unto me over almost a year now. My sense of "normal" is fluid: it ebbs and flows, and I am faced with a "new normal" again.

As I have tried in my own strength to rebuild all that I had lost, I have (by the grace of God) come a long way. The lessons learned are invaluable and I cannot take credit for what God has done inspite of me. So far, I have made it through birthdays, holidays, an anniversary, travelling alone, living alone, legal battles (two more to go...), and more losses. The healing process is constant but not predictable. I have another anniversary coming up.... Please pray for myself and Dave's family especially this month and September.

Since Dave's death, I have known God as more than Friend, Father, and King; I have known Him to be a Husband. For where I was once so adored by Dave, I am now acutely aware of how He has moved in so softly and so completely to adore me in Dave's place for which only He could be worthy.

"I set my face as flint before you now,

My life I recommit here as I bow,

I love it when you gently kiss my brow,

And whisper, 'it's all right'."

Like You - Rita Springer

I remember now. I have stopped running. I am waiting. Listening. I am learning every day what it is like to be adored. May I prove myself to be worthy.

El vino / Wine by Pablo Neruda

2007-07-25T09:56:00.000-07:00

Esta es mi copa, ¿ves

brillar la sangre

detrás del filo del cristal?

Esta es mi copa, brindo

por la unidad

del vino,

por la luz desgranada,

por mi destino y por otros

destinos,

por lo que tuve y por lo que no

tuve,

y por la espada de color de sangre

que canta con la copa transparente.

Pablo Neruda, "Las manos del día"

This is my glass, you see

the blood

shinning behind the sharp edges of

the crystal?

This is my glass, I toast

for the unity

of the wine, for the dispersed light,

for my destiny and for other

destinies,

for what I had and for what I didn't

have,

and for the red-colored sword

that sings together with the

transparent glass.
(Translation by Jorge W Suazo)

Like a Bull in a China Shop

2007-07-25T08:59:00.000-07:00

The events of this past week and a half begs the allegation: if it ain't broke, Karen hasn't touched it yet. Let me explain: It all started with a brand new jar of Heinz chili sauce; not even out of the grocery bag (thank goodness!). I guess I had set the bag down with a little less care than I should.

It may have been a day or two later when I opened my microwave door and a glass vitamin bottle that was perched atop somewhat precariously tumbled and shattered on the floor. Glass and vitamins everywhere.

I can't exactly be sure of the time that had passed until I was washing my dishes. I mean this to be from the time the last vitreous object fell victim to my blunderous hands; not necassarily the last time that the dishes were washed. One of my drinking glasses broke-- in my hands. In case you are concerned, my hands were just fine.

Lastly, (and I hope it is the last for while) I came home late Friday night and as I fumbled for the light switch, another explosion of glass fell at my feet. Sleepily, I may have said a word or two about one of my favourite martini glasses and then left it for morning.

With all of the glass that has been befallen my floor, it is no wonder that although I have swept and vacuumed (several times over), I am still getting little cuts on my feet when I don't wear my slippers!

Cute Hat

2007-07-25T08:45:00.000-07:00

Cute Hat (May 11,2007 - July 16, 2007)

On July 16 during a race pace at a dragon boating practice,

Cute Hat met its untimely end into the trenchant waters of the

Fraser River. In its short time as Karen's possession, it travelled to Maui,

Stave Lake, Diez Vistas, Kent, WA., and kept Karen's hair out of her face

at numerous dragon boating practices, her first regatta, and convertibles.

It will be sadly missed by Karen and everyone else who

thought that it lived up to its name perched atop Karen's head.

Khaki and pink in colour, it will be succeeded but never

fully replaced.

You Know What They Say About Good Intentions...

2007-07-23T14:24:00.000-07:00

So I was reading my book tonight. One of them. I have several on the go at the moment. It's called "Why I Hate Canadians" by Will Ferguson which is a tongue and cheek look at one devoutly patriotic man's disillusionment of our beloved country's reputation. He likens the title to naming the book "Why I Hate Bambi's Mother". Don't get me wrong, here. I love our country and I am sure that Bambi's mother was a good and kind doe. Anyways. I read this little paragraph and laughed out loud. Without further ado:

"....And we are brimming with potential energy....Potential energy exists in springs compressed, in rocks poised at the edge of a cliff, and even in someone slouched in front of a television set who intends to get up and do something. They all contain potential energy. Whether anything comes from it is another thing entirely.
"Being described as having "potential" is the booby prize of compliments. It's like being told you're a lousy poet but you have good penmanship. It doesn't stir the blood. Dreams deferred to a later date never do.
"What an impotent battle cry: Rah Rah Canada! We could probably do a lot more if we really tried!
"....At times it seems Canada has the potential energy not of a spring, nor a body at rest, but of a boulder at the edge of a cliff. And the best we can hope for is that the ledge doesn't crumble too quickly."

*chuckle here*

The book only gets better. If you like wit and want to hear a different perspective on being Canadian, then I would recommend it. There are also many other good books that I have half read that I could recommend. I even finished one that was so good that I couldn't set it down. I was also confined to an armchair for two months, so it was much easier to sit still long enough to finish it. What else was I going to do? Crochet? That was around the same time that I tried to teach myself to crochet. Again. I made my sister a "scarf" for Christmas. I gave it to her in a gift bag and said, "OK, now give it back. It's not done yet." To which she replies, "So, this is the gift that I will never see again?" I think it is tucked away in my closet. In that same gift bag.

This brings me to the two big flat boxes lying on my living room floor. (How does she DO it?! From a book on "hating" Canadians to boxes on the floor?!) A couple of weeks ago, I spent a Friday night doing what most 'normal' single people do. I went for wine and dinner at Ikea with a friend. I was on a mission for some storage solutions for my little home. Wouldn't you know it? The 'As-Is' section came through for me again! The headboard which I have been ogling was 57% off! We wrestled and wrangled the awkward boxes into the back of his brand-spanking-new Mazda Speed-- and I could just see the sweat forming on his brow as he considered how we were going to tie the hatch closed!

We brought them to my place, cleared a spot on my living room floor, and laid them to rest. They are very flat and very heavy. I intend to take a whole day sometime 'soon' to assemble this brilliant solution for my bedroom, but it must be the WHOLE. DAY. Otherwise, I fear that I will have a semi-assembled headboard in my living room, and that would not be as easy to walk around as it is to simply walk on and over the boxes.

I wonder if I can attribute my squirrel-like attention span to an adult-like ADD? Maybe I watched too much TV as a kid. Maybe I have some potential energy like a wound up Jack Russell that needs to be released from its kennel after hours of watching other dogs running and playing in a large park near a sausage factory. I digress, and conclude....

.....They stay in the box.

Karen's Book List:

Red, White, and Drunk All Over by Natalie McLean (Finished)
Bacchus and Me by Jay McInnerney (2nd chapter)
Blue Like Jazz (Intro)
Night by Elie Wiesel (Finished)
Why I Hate Canadians (2nd or 3rd chapter)

A Tale of Two Regattas

2007-07-16T11:55:00.000-07:00

Just me, and my paaaa-ddle,

Strolling down the avenue;

Just me, and my paaa-ddle,

Not a soul to tell our troubles to-oo;

And when it's 12 o'clock, we climb the stair,

We never knock, 'cuz nobody's there...

Just me, and my paaaa-dle,

All alone and feeling blue!

I just got my first paddle and had it cut to suit my proportionately short arms. Just in time for the Kent regatta. Oh, it is beautiful. Sleek, smooth, short, and sexy. I almost slept with it that night, but I forgot it in my car. Side note: I don't usually leave my objects of affection in the car.

My first regatta (July 14) was a thrilling experience-- all 12 minutes of paddling! My day started at 4 am and we drove for two hours and thirty five minutes down to Kent, Washington. This is noteable as the mapquest instructions said that it would take us a whopping two hours and thirty EIGHT minutes. We made good time. Our first heat (race, that is) was at 9:10 and we came in second. The second was considerably later and we came in 2nd, again. The third (and consequently, our final) heat finished very close. Although it appeared that we came in 2nd, we actually came in 4th. We paddled hard, and we were all heart.

If you have ever been to a regatta, you would know that there is a lot of waiting and standing around for a 3 minute race but the day was gorgeous and hot and we were all in good spirits. Someone brought some water guns and we had a great time soaking each other.

In a stark contrast to that first regatta, this past saturday was my second regatta at Harrison. This was a day of confusion. The weather was about as confounding as the organization of this event. The day started off drizzley, and by the time we arrived, the sun started peaking through the clouds. By our first race, the sun shone gloriously and we were basking in the warmth and excitement of the day. However, this is when things started to get unzipped. Our first race finished, we were panting, sweating, patting each other on the backs, and thirsting for our water back at the tent. We were met at the dock by an official who announced that the race would have to be redone. The timer malfunctioned, or just didn't function at all. Reluctantly, we gave it our best a second time in less than 20 minutes. We are thankful that during our practices Cheryl inflicts on us two race pieces in 10 minutes. Time: 2 mins and 34 seconds. Place: 3

The second race resulted in our best time. Time: 2 mins and 25 seconds. Place: 2 Now, I should mention that coming in second was 3/10ths of a second away from coming in first! By the third race we were getting frustrated by all of the waiting. This waiting was exceptional. We were already 2 hours behind schedule now. Another race was redone for the same reason as ours and grumblings were heard over some race times that were clearly errant. So we paddle out to the starting line. We hold hard. The wind picks up and moves each boat into the wrong lane. We realign. The wind starts to move us again. After realigning the second time, the horn is blown and we pretty much have to do a running start. Half way through the race, the horn is blown again. We stop. We have to start again. A drum fell off of one of the boats. Time: 2 minutes and 45 seconds. Place: 4.

The sun disappeared and it started to rain. It rained HARD. We waited and waited for our 4th and final race. We were told that we were placed in the top of the "C" division and we would be competing for a consolidation ribbon. We stood in Marshalling in the rain for a total of two hours. In those two hours, we were told that we were bumped up to the "B" division and would be completing for a medal. And then we were told that we were in fact going to stay in the "C" division race. Our last race finally arrived and we paddled hard in the torrential rain. (Good thing I had that Stave Lake experience to which I could compare this, and it really wasn't THAT bad) Time: TBA Place: 2!

http://www.dragonboatwest.net/ will definately have something to say about this-- and it has!

Momma told me there'd be days like these...

2007-07-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

Subtitle: Ramblings and cryptic disclosures

Back in college, my favourite teacher was Mr. Heaney. Not because he made me feel good about myself, but because he didn't. In fact, I think we all left his classroom with our heads hung in shame over our fallen nature. One of the more poignant lessons was about "blocked lousy goals". Let me explain: With every situation, we have an expectation of how it should turn out. Since so often, our scripted outcome fails to make the final cut, we get angry, sad, and pass out blame. The goal we had was blocked. We didn't get what we wanted. Who knew Mick Jagger was that insightful? So, if our goal was to satisfy our desires and if that goal was intended to give us "life", then our goal was lousy. Blocked. Lousy. Goal.

This brings me to a conversation I had today about expectations. It was pointed out that we need to learn how to manage our expectations. Manage? What about killing them? They are lousy and no good and seldom does anything positive come out of them. Expectations, as I was taught, put a responsibility on things and people beyond our control to bring us our idea of happiness. I have thought about this, and I have not yet come up with any concrete way to manage them. What a pointless blog, so far. I hope you weren't expecting something good.

I will say this: I am glad that today I can pound the water as we practice our race pace. I am also glad that needlepoint isn't a full contact sport. When the concrete starts to set, hopefully some good habits and coping skills are embedded in the mix. I shouldn't even try to compare losses when one isn't personal, it is final, and has left me with joy. The other wasn't, isn't, and hasn't. Oh yes, and voo-doo dolls as gestalt therapy might not be such a bad idea.

Bailing and Flailing in Fort Langley

2007-07-06T15:32:00.000-07:00

Probably the saddest thing you'll ever see is a mosquito sucking on a mummy. Forget it, little friend.
-Jack Handy

People who claim they don't let little things bother them have never slept in a room with a mosquito.
-Anonymous

The flood has been averted and the time of rejoicing has passed. Was it only a month ago when I went down to the swelling river at lunch and stood somberly with concerned and nail biting town folk? We stared at the path that was no longer fit for walking and stood in silence. Even though no one was speaking, it seemed eerily quieter still with the water so near our feet. A block away from the river the stores, post office, and sidewalks were buzzing with speculation over, "how high do you think the water will actually get?", "are you prepared?", and "I heard that we will be evacuated in less than a week!".

The current was strong. It wasn't "safe" to leave the dragon boats in the water, so we portaged the voyageur canoes to and from the boat house twice a week. But we still paddled. I managed to get some of my finer belongings over to my storage locker, and every day I stared out my window at the green field and imagined it submersed in murky, silty, water.

I took pictures of the river on the day it reached its highest level. Since then, it has been slowly receding leaving a patterned baldness where the banks fell victim to erosion and a dirty trail of silt marking the water level which once made us tremble. How soon we forget when another nuisance comes along.

Vancouver might be resting under a cloud of smog during this (dare I say) heatwave, but here in Fort Langley we have a cloud of mosquitoes much like T.S. Eliot's "...yellow [black] fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes...Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains...Curled once about the house, and fell asleep." But I don't believe they DO sleep. I have been sleeping with one eye open and my hand on the fly swatter lately. In fact, there is nothing romantic about this. Checking each other for ticks is likely more fanciful than slapping each other because "you had a mosquito there."

Today at the grocery store, post office, and on the side walk the talk was a-buzz about the bloody-thirsty pests that have invaded our sleepy town: "How about these mosquitoes!", "I heard that it is only going to get worse as the water recedes", "Did you know that vitamin B1 and apple cider vinegar will keep them from biting you?", and "Sorry. Mosquito".

Being the object of one's desire is the finest flattery, and with this warm summer weather some of us are searching for a hot summer romance to sweep us off of our feet. However, being followed by this particular entourage who are trying to get into my pants and suck on my neck was not what I had in mind.

For now, I wonder what will soon (I am really hoping it will be soon) replace this nuisance so that it too is also forgotten?

Paddles Up!

2007-06-20T10:08:00.000-07:00

Last summer, I did bootcamp. Five mornings a week for two months. Wait. Saying "mornings" puts it too mildly. I was up at 5am to be in Mission for 6 am. Rain or shine. After an hour of beating our chunky, lethargic, bodies into submission, I typically went for a 2 - 6 km walk. By September, I started running-- shocking, I know. Running was never optional for me. Run to the bus. Run away from the scary man with the knife. Run in my nylons. But for the first time in my life, I ENJOYED it. I had the pumping tunes on my ipod, new running shoes, bladder backpack... I was rolling. Running. Pounding that pavement. I lost about 15 inches during that season, and I felt and looked great! We all know the rest of the story.... Now, I DID lose about 10 lbs in the hospital, but I won't endorse that diet. Regardless, I had to find a new outlet for activity.

My physiotherapist was all about how biking would be great for me, and to that, I snort. How boring. I don't care much for biking. Besides, I need to expand my social horizon. The Orchid Society of Fort Langley sounded interesting, but I needed to sweat. My once svelte body was suffering from the lack of athletic beatings. I needed to challenge myself-- and quick! So my dear friend, Krista (who gets the credit for the photo above) suggested that I join dragon boating. Kudos to Krista! I am once again challenged but now in a non-impact, not-as-early, kind of way.

Twice a week, I congregate with my fellow teamates and we move some murky Fraser River water. We usually wear a lot of it by the time we head to the pub for burgers and brew after practice. On our last stretch, we collectively salivate and chant: ICE! COLD! BEER! Then we change out of our soggy clothes and drag our smelly waterlogged arses to the where the beers and meat pattys are.

Endurance has been the biggest challenge for me and when we do this brutal anaerobic excersise set, I have typically pulled my paddle out a few times near the end out of shear exhaustion. 20 reps at 100% strength, 20 at 75%, 20 at 50%, rinse, and repeat eight times. SO... last practice I did two of these endurance sets (one on each side of the boat) without pulling my paddle out even once. My coach congratulated me on my achievement-- I threw up over the side of the boat.

Chez Fehr

2007-06-17T15:57:00.000-07:00

Table for three here Chez Fehr, as I visit my dear old friends Jim and Chrissy Fehr. They were married two months ago, and I experienced being an honoured bridesmaid for the first time.
Now as life settles for them, I get to visit as they whip up something that smells amazing in the kitchen. I am reminded of the many times that Dave and I would have Jim over for dinner and a game of Settlers, and of the crafty time that I brought Chrissy over to sample the brownies that Dave and Jim were burning. We have discussed how my old world and new world have yet to collide and perhaps that will come about in the near future. In the meantime, I am treasuring the moments that I share with my dear old friends, and I am enjoying also the memories that I will make with my new ones. At Chrissy's request, this has been composed in their humble and cozy love shack.

Have a heart?

2007-06-13T20:41:00.000-07:00

I have always said that I would want to my organs to be donated if I passed away. Dave had even said the same. It just occured to me that my good intentions won't pave the way on their own. I can't say that I am prepared. So I am registering to be an organ donor, and I encourage everyone else to do it. Piece of cake. No sweat. 1, 2, 3. We fill out a form, and leave the rest to the professionals. So when you are done with them, pass them on to someone who isn't. SO DO IT. Have a heart. And a liver. And a lung or two. And don't even get me started on how you should be looking after those organs! Seriously. Be responsible for what you leave behind. For now, just make sure you are leaving something behind.

https://www.transplant.bc.ca/onlinereg/bcts.asp

A Little Whine Snobbery

2007-06-12T14:30:00.000-07:00

I can't help but impart you with some great wine writing by my favourite oenophile and writer, Natalie McLean. This is a great article about wine snobbery that will make some of you laugh out loud. Her wit is unmatched. I am linking her website, simply because I fear the copyright powers that be. I will also pass on a strong recommendation to receive her newsletter. I get it, and it is infrequent enough that I don't feel inundated and I wait with bated breath to learn such new things as botrytis cineria, carbonic maceration, and how global warming has and will impact the vineyards and wine producers. It may not interest some, but it never hurts to attend a social function armed with some vinous fodder to impress.

http://www.nataliemaclean.com/articles/snobbery.asp

I would add my own personal note on wine snobbery, but I believe that Nat has already said it best. My encouragement is to simply venture out from the colour of wine, and the region in which you are most familiar, and explore wines that you wrote off. You may miss out on some liquid gold and an opportunity to learn about the nuances and history of a region.

Cheers to expanding your palate!

High school reunion or museum/zoo exhibition?

2007-06-12T08:16:00.000-07:00

Marcella: You know, when you start getting invited to your ten year high school reunion, time is catching up.
Martin Q. Blank: Are you talking about a sense of my own mortality or a fear of death?
Marcella: Well, I never really thought about it quite like that.
Martin Q. Blank: Did you go to yours?
Marcella: Yes, I did. It was just as if everyone had swelled.

[Talking to his psychiatrist about going to his high school reunion] Marty: They all have husbands and wives and children and houses and dogs, and, you know, they've all made themselves a part of something and they can talk about what they do. What am I gonna say? "I killed the president of Paraguay with a fork. How've you been?"

(From Grosse Pointe Blank)

The reunion just crept up on me. I hated high school. I was a nerd. I had no intentions of going. Why would I want to relive the experience? I didn't stay in touch with anyone, nor do I remember them fondly. But, at the last minute, I decided to go. What the heck. I didn't have any other plans for Saturday night. I figured that I could pay the $40 and consider it as admission to a zoo or museum exhibit. A study on a cross section of people my age-- static or dynamic? Maybe I could get a sense of how refined I have become in comparison-- or not.

When I arrived, the hostess informed me that I might be the first one there. Not cool. I was just about to go walk around the block a few times when she returned with the news that there were 5 other awkward people standing around. At least we could be awkward together.
As others arrived, I felt like I was on display as much as they were on display. We sized each other up and down and squinted to find recognizable features. I was thinking that it might be an early night, if this what it would be like. The ice was broken when one guy whom I remember from elementary school walked in and started hugging us. We were all new at this at unsure of the proper reunion etiquette.

It was amazing how "down we forgot as up we grew". I feared the presuppositions based on who we were 10 years ago. I feared that after 10 years, all of my adolescent insecurities would come rushing back. But it wasn't so. If one held the belief that I hadn't changed, that would establish their own inability to change. I believe that I have become an emancipated nerd. Freed from the bondage of pubescent social oppression and metamorphosed into a social butterfly in my own right. I saw, through the thickening jowls and waists to the thinning hair and waists, a community in which we share our birth year and, for some, 5 years of our lives. At least we came together with a common ground to stand on, considering how we have moved on to such a variety of walks of life. And we all knew how to party like it was 1997.

I was most shocked to catch up with some classmates whom I hadn't seen since elementary school. Since I was only at this high school for 2 years, somehow I hadn't run into them during that epoch. I learned that a school yard bully had become an RCMP. I learned that although they grew out of their sweatpants, they would still chase the girls around the playground if given a chance. I learned (albeit, from an inebriated classmate) that I am hot. I learned that I did, in fact, have an old high school flame. Even though it is partly true that I didn't date anyone with whom I went to school. We hooked up on grad night, you see. He got his absolution for showing up on my front lawn drunk after we broke up.

At 1 am, we were kicked out of the restaurant, and the amnesty came to a close as we all formed cliques and went our separate ways to after-parties and clubs. In another 10 years, I wonder what will have transpired? I was the only widow this time around, but sadly, in another 10 years there will likely be another. There may be some more missing faces, and there may be some new ones that couldn't make it this time around. There will be wallets of more pictures, there will be more accomplished professionals, and probably some who haven't done much.

I went expecting nothing more than a study of observation. I left realising that I have become something. It is something intangible and gradual, but I have grown more into me. I can't say that the insecurities have completely dissolved, but they have evolved. As I overcome each one, I find that I am more of the hot person yet to be than the nerd that was.

Cheers to another ten years!

I Karened this blog

2007-06-11T11:21:00.000-07:00

Blog. I just looked it up on dictionary.com, because I was curious about how many of these post-modern terms are recognised by the literary powers that be. Of course a web-based dictionary would have a suitable definition.

Blog (blŏg) Pronunciation Key n. A weblog. intr.v. blogged, blog·ging, blogs To write entries in, add material to, or maintain a weblog. [(we)blog.] blog·ger n.
1998, short for weblog (which is attested from 1994, though not in the sense 'online journal'), from (World Wide) Web + log. Joe Bloggs (c.1969) was British slang for "any hypothetical person" (cf. U.S. equivalent Joe Blow).

Even "Google" has a definition after infiltrating our common language with web-based terminology. It is a new day when proper names and nouns become abnormal verbs. An Ab-verb, if you will.

Goo·gle (gōō'gəl) Pronunciation Key A trademark used for an Internet search engine. This trademark often occurs in print as a verb, sometimes in lowercase: "A high school English teacher ... recently Googled a phrase in one student's paper and found it had been taken from a sample essay of an online editing service" (Chris Berdik).

Blog you! Kiss my blog! Yo momma is a blog. Could you pass the blog? This needs some more blog. You could use a really good blogging. My blog is broken. I like big blogs, and I cannot lie....

I am really impressed with this new uber-social tool. On a blog, people who SHOULD write are finally published, and people who SHOULDN'T can keep their day jobs. On a blog, peoples' creativity is released (some to the dogs, some to the grand masses) and one writes with the purest desire to share their thoughts out of their own free will (No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers...). On a blog, modesty, humility, and privacy is shed. I love this blog concept. At first, I saw it as a burden to find things of interest to write about, now, I lie awake thinking about all the things that I wish to impart to all you grasshoppers!

Now that I have joined the ranks of bloggers (look at that usage of a proper noun!), I am officially inducted into the world of web-expression. This new outlet of mine will house the thoughts that once were wasted on only a select few and now broadcast them to the WORLD! Muah-hahahahahaha. And THAT is what we are doing tonight, Pinky.