Free Day

Yesterday was free day in Edmonton. This means some local attractions had free admission. So myself and a couple of friends took advantage. After a delightful feast at Dim Sum (I not only missed a turn while picking up my friend Carol, but got lost on the way to the restaurant), we headed off to Fort Edmonton Park.

Jillian, being born outside of Alberta, had never been so we escorted her into our city's past. Unlike when I was younger, they now have people that are in period dress that engage you in conversation about the house/tent/area they are in. It was pretty rad.


Here are my friends Des and Mikey. They are crouched by the railway tracks as I had instructed. I had just finished making a very bad joke about how their forefathers helped build the railway (Yes, I said it was a bad joke... but they laughed AND posed, and I didn't really mean it anyways, so no being offended!). Once inside one of the buildings, the pretend telephone operator rang the phone in the booth for us and Des answered. They had a short conversation about long distance calls in the year 1905 and Des let the operator know that he and a friend had just finished building the railroad, outside. I cracked up and wound up curled up and laughing on a bench.


Here are all of us sans Jillian, outside the fort part. We had been waiting for Jillian to take the picture and we had all been standing awkwardly beside each other, like a bunch of strangers at a family reunion. I had just made a face to crack Jillian up and everyone wound up seeing it, which made us all laugh. The properly posed pic, taken after this one, isn't nearly as good. As a side note, Carol has described herself as, "kinda simple, actually. Like this is the kind of picture where you'd have to talk slow to me." She describes me as doing the "Bobbie gives up laugh", which makes me smile to hear. I like that I have a pose for when laughter overcomes me, and that it happens so often, that pose has a title.



Jillian and I found an outhouse... it was roped off, otherwise we would be squatting inside, instead of on the perimeter.

So that was Free Day... it was also my first day off in months. I really cannot think of a better way to spend the free time I was granted. I was in the company of people I thoroughly enjoy, that I've missed lately, as I've been busy with work and the clutter of my brain.

To Heather

To Heather:

You may never read this, for I may never let you know it's been written. It will be enough that my thoughts will be out there, in the universe at large. Here I will get to say that I am sorry, and that the universe is wrong and unfair, and that I hate it for what is happening to you, for what is happeing to your body. I will get to say that you are seventeen! And that you should only be concerned with social studies homework, meeting me for soup, dumb boys and which of those dumb boy will be lucky enough to escort you to grad. I will use this medium to say that my heart broke when I heard you cry on the phone, because I knew why you were calling; that when you sobbed that you were a fighter, my heart, two pieces that used to be whole, shattered altogehter, so that it would never be the same again. I will allow myself to say that I wanted to cry, but wouldn't allow it, for even before you told me about your aversion to the head-tilt/shoulder-rub combo, I knew that I could only look upon you with the same smile on my face and joy in my heart, that I've always had for you.

You will not have to worry about one more person crying for you, over you or because of you. I will not be one more, in an unending line, of consoling pharses and apologies. You will not hear me whisper to others about you and your health, two ideas seemingly intertwined into one entity forever more. You will not see a fake smile plastered upon my face, or me veil my eyes when you are around.

I will be here for you always. I will make stupid jokes, I will tell rambling stories, I will entice you with soup and salty plum soda. I will answer my phone at all hours, to listen, to talk, to be silent... just to be. You will make stupid jokes, tell rambling stories, entice me with pie and tea. You will call at all hours, to talk, to listen, to be silent... just to be. Or you will not.

You will beat this and be healthy. Or you will not.

And I will love you, never will I not.

I came home tonight from a long day. A hard day, as well. I find it harder and harder to enjoy my job, and feel secure in what I am doing. Part of it is the person above me. Little faith is shown in my ability (the credit, it seems, should be his... either he taught me right or he was the brains or action behind a good thing), little thanks (wait, strike that and replace with "no thanks") is shown for my effort or the long hours I put in (both at work and at home). He is severly absorbed with himself and his world. Hey, isn't everyone? But he has no compassion, no empathy, no thought for anyone he doesn't like (which, it is sad to report, I believe I am in that catagory).

Anyways, my soul was tired when I came home this evening, and even forcing my cat to cuddle did nothing to soothe it. I was feeling very alone and lonely. Very much like if I went on a trip (which I am to open a store in BC), there would be no one who would truly miss my company; I see people at such an irregular basis that I would hardly be missed. Yes, I was wallowing, but I've not indulged in that for so very long, that I wrapped those hurt bunny feelings around me like a blanket and let myself feel like the smallest, most unloved wretched creature in existance. Then, two things happened: An old friend (the same galant man from my chivalry post) messaged me and I found he was having a rough time at work. Sometimes it is good to know that even while wallowing, we can find company. More importantly, I was told that I am thought of everyday, and that I will, indeed, be missed for the months I will be away; that I am someone who is called upon, always in his thoughts, if not always, in person, to be a comfort when things get too big for him. My heart lightened. Yet again, I found a dragon slain and laid at my feet; his gift to me, with nothing but my smile as his reward.

Another friend furthered in lightening my spirits. When asked what he was doing, while we were chatting, he said he was trying to find a teachers list for Hogwart's. To determine the staff size. To determine the number of students who attend there (He figures that with the number of classes, it should be around 1000). This was completely random and warmed my heart, as it is these little things that I truly love about my friends. Little tidbits that lurk about in their heads and manifest themselves, somehow, in reality. I love each of them for their unique ways in which they think, and, invariably, entertain themselves and others. As I hope they love me too. Hearing about his little mission, I was struck by a wave of happiness to simply know this person and to be privvy to his inner workings.

These two things have made me smile, when I thought I only wanted to cry. These two people (like so many others I call friends) gave a little piece of themselves and, in turn, made my world better. Thanks... everyone.

At least I remembered his smile

My life has been filled with people who have, in some way or another, changed it. Always for the better as change can only be a good thing, if you are in the right mind set. One such person made a re-appearance a few days ago. He walked up to me, at my store, and said hi. Unfortunately, I didn't recognize him... which he saw too. So, he smiled at my ignorance. Ah! Simon! A smile I could never forget, even should I live to be 103.

Simon and his beautiful fiance Michele were both introduced to me about two and a half years ago. A friend of a friend (Carol, of Gladys and Millie fame, for anyone keeping up with the characters that colour my life). We all went to a poetry reading at Steeps Tea House. Carol had a few other friends in attendance, I brought one. Well, a bit of caffeine, combined with the near manic personality I was sporting at the time, resulted in an unforgettable night. For everyone. I had been sitting with Simon and Michele and we three got a case of the giggles part way through the reading. I was doing my best to keep silent, which resulted in my vibrating and physically pushing myself into the two of them, while they tittered. My friend and the other friend of Carol's were mortified. They barely acknowledged our presence afterwards. It was pretty great!

It was an odd time for many of us in the group. We now refer to it as "the unhealthy" time: breakups and too many changes in friendships. We hung out and made ourselves a family of sorts. Perhaps I clung a bit. I can admit to being needy then. I tried to fill my time with these people as it was a good distraction to the sadness that seemed to be ever present. They made me laugh, feel loved and even pretty (something that I definately did not see in myself at the time). Simon was part of this. He always seemed to sense what I needed to hear and when I needed someone to flash a smile my way.

He also was there to bear witness to one of my stupidest (and apparently, most alluring) moments in history. And bless the boy, he never thought less of me... or at least he was gentleman enough to keep it to himself. This particular incident had to do with my birth control pill. I'd been single for like five months and wasn't doing anything fun with anyone, so when I was too late to pick up my prescription (the pharmacy closed well before I thought to go), I didn't think too much about it. It could definately wait a day with no harm done. Well, the next day, when I went to get my pill, they were out. Then I forgot to pick it up the next day. When I finally did get it on the fourth day, I popped four of the stinkin' pills before I gave myself a chance to think about it! I popped a whole gram of whatever little hormonal cocktail the pills contained. Never did I think of the warning "if you miss more than two days, start your pill cycle over". Nope, just opened my mouth and swallowed. Oops.

I started to feel a bit funky as the evening progressed. I got ready and met friends at Boston Pizza for a late, late supper. I sat next to Simon, who kept staring at me, telling me there was something different about me. He just couldn't put his finger on it. A little time passed and Simon was still adamant that I was giving off some sort of sexy vibe. Finally, I cracked and blurted out what I had done. Ahhh! I was giving off something... pheremones. Simon picked up on the higher level of estrogen in my body! My goodness, how could I not hold someone like that in the highest regard?

It was such a joy to see him again, as I've really seen little of him this past year and then some. We had a little visit, chatted about school, songs on my ipod, and just how radical Michele is (she broke some flasher-pervert's nose while at work!). He left me with another of his charming smiles and the warmth of friendship and shared history glowing in my heart.

Chivalry should not be a lesson in history

Chivalry is not dead. Though it certainly is on the endagered list.

For two days I've been trying to sort through what defines chivalry in this modern age. In days long past, a knight would pledge to be a maiden's champion, to show her honour and to defend her, should the need arise. She, in turn, would give him small token of her favour: a glove, a handkerchief, her heart... whatever, I suppose, was handy. But what of today? I've asked friends and family and found the examples not only sparse in numbers, but decidely less substantial in thought and sentiment than I was hoping for. I heard more of what men hadn't done, than what they had: not waiting for his girlfriend to walk through the front door of her house before driving off; not bothering to lighten the load by carrying packages and groceries in; not putting her reputation before his own.

There were exceptions: the gentleman that waited until the woman in line behind him was finished buying her groceries, he placed all the bags in her cart and walked away without ever saying a word, not requiring recognition for his deed; my own ex boyfriend, when we first started dating, took over my car payments so that I could give that money and then some to my family who was experiencing financial difficulties at the time... he did it because he knew it upset me to not be able to see my responsibilties through, both in paying for my car and in helping my family out; a friend that took my uttering of "I miss how it was in university, when we did such and such" online, and asked if I wanted to hang out. He arranged it so that he would pick me up at my parents (I no longer live there, but it fit with the theme of the night), we drove to the beaver dam, where we hiked and laughed and talked and took pictures. This was good enough for me, he listened to a small hope but made it better. When our walk was done, he surprised me with the makings of a fire and a marshmallow roast. We sat in the wavering light of the flames, the night still holding on to it's springtime chill. Besides his time and his unwavering friendship, he gave me what I most needed: to have my meaning be heard beneath my words, to have the effort of my desire not be held against me, to, in fact, be shown that I did have a champion in my life.

Take up the challenge, my good men. Your forefathers have slain all the dragons and we ask not for you to take up a broadsword and cut down our enemies; what we desire is far less dangerous. Have the courage to simply share a piece of yourself, no matter how small it may seem. It could mean the difference to whomever you offer it to.

"I don't know what it is, but it seems to be migrating towards my butt!"

I suppose one could say it's been a stressful couple of weeks, wait, make that months. But it's ok, I'm no worse for it. Wait, wait, if that's true, then why do I have the start of what feels like an extra head coming out of my neck muscles? It's true. Not just a knot of tension, a full scale, perfectly round bump where only flat relaxed muscle should be.

I made my friend Julie feel it at work today. She was highly grossed out and was taken by a fit of awkward laughing. What could it be, we both asked. Obviously, the start to an extra head, we decided. For what girl doesn't require a second noggin? Brains before beauty and all that jazz. Assuming, that is, that my little appendage will have an I.Q. that will put Einstein to shame. What else could we do but name the little darling, in honour of a mutual friend's father (Happy Birthday, Bruce!). That is when we discovered that it wasn't where I had left it... apparently it is migrating south, towards my butt. It has a way to go, but really, why rush a good thing?

My list

I found this list on my old livejournal site. It made me smile for the person I was, and the times that made me that way. This list is about 20 months old, but I can still feel the smile on my face as when I was writing it. Every point has a story attached, and as you know, I am all about the stories. I like finding stuff like this, because it gives me a chance to think back to all those moments and to roll the details around in my head, and savour the experiences again.

1. My workplace did not fall apart when I left, the funny thing is, when I came back, I couldn't have cared if I found out it did (who knew?).

2. Australian boys are VERY, VERY selfish. I tossed around the idea of actually writing an eitiquette book for them, I still may, you never know.

3. I CAN dance. I have wasted a lot of time watching the coats and purses on the sidelines.

4. I found out I can drink 20 ounces of alcohol in about four hours and not only will I not go blind, but if I get to have a little nap in a Greek parking lot, I can actually take care of other drunk people.

5. I intimidate other females. I don't understand it, I thought I was only scared of them.

6. I don't require sleep, or at least my body doesn't think I do. Which is fine, because sometimes it's funner to go when you're sick and deal with feeling crappy sometime later in the next day.

7. A true friend will pack your bags for you while you are out having fun with the Aussies. (God, I love Brandy!).

8. There comes a time when a person will pay any amount of money to wear clean clothes.

9. I am completely oblivious when it comes to my own life. I actually require people I know and sometimes even random strangers to let me in on things that are going on around me.

10. A wee walk in Scotland actually entails climbing up a damn mountain.

11. Tiffany's really does make a girl smile.

12. Having fancy high tea at the Ritz can include being bad and randomly stalking weird old ladies, that later turn out to be famous.

13. If you look at the Mcbackpackers website, you will see the corner that changed everything.

14. Canadian girls really do have a thing for kilts and accents.

15. If you don't take care of yourself on vacation, you tend not to remember the flight home.

16. You can try to kill the germs with beer, but I don't think it really works.

17. I know what's under a Scot's kilt.

18. Birthdays are better spent overseas (especially if you have a piper playing you happy birthday and a tour guide that makes the day truly worthwhile).

19. I am an attention whore. Seriously!

20. I have A.D.D. much too often when I am too happy or too sad.

21. A guy who assumes too much, not only sleeps alone, but will do so as his tour mates mock him outside his window.

22. Cleavage is not only a way to get attention, it can provide an impromptu drink holder (I never said it was pretty!).

23. Even the best whiskey in the world (Oban) is still whiskey and therefore tastes like crap, regardless of whether it's mixed with a litre of pop or not.

24. Guys can be horrible to each other when there is a girl involved.

25. When spying on friends, it is always best to not only stifle the giggles, but to remain hidden after until both parties retire to the bedroom.

26. Sometimes a profound moment in your life can be caught on film.

27. Sometimes there are more documented moments than you ever thought possible.

28. Plans will always work out for the best, so try to handle each situation with poise.

29. It's easier to project irrational feelings on to inanimate objects than it is to deal with them (I don't pretend to think it's healthy).

30. Boys are dumb, girls are confusing (what about becoming a nun?).

31. Boys will do random things if you tell them to, especially if they are drunk and you can convince them it's what a real life pirate would do.

32. There are moments in your life that seem mundane... but someone will see beyond that and get a glimpse of just how special you are.

33. The wine of Naxos does less for a broken heart than I was lead to believe.

34. My navel is also the vortex of confusion. It is the source of many confused feelings and uncomfortable situations. When you cover it, the world is more in control.

35. Keeping a sleeping friend's head propped up on your shoulder, while flying budget, is a difficult experience, but it does both hearts good.

36. The tower of London tastes worse than you could ever imagine and the aftertaste lasts for days and days and days.

37. It is easier to tell your bunkmate that she has mosquito bites than to deal with the aftermath of letting her know they were bedbug bites.

38. Getting to speak to your tour guide's mom on the phone is an awkward, but enlightening experience...Having him grab the phone while you are chatting to your best friend back home only leads to more questions.

39. A good friend will anticipate the problem you may have sharing sun status with a new girl... and while he doesn't let you hog his affections, he lets you and everyone else know just how bright your light shines.

40. Curling up with a friend is a favoured way to spend an evening.

41. Anger and hurt can resurface and complicate your life and heart, especially when you think you should be better than this.

42. A good friend can do much for restoring joy to your world when number 41 comes around.

Emptying out the clutter

I would like to say that it is my home that is getting the overhaul, things getting packed up to be given away or thrown out, but I've decided that another space of mine needs attention first. My mind, it seems, is overcrowded. Like a cupboard that has had items shoved, again and again, haphazzardly in to it, it is now crammed to capacity. That is until someone opens it up and things spill out and pile up around me. This happens when I am too neglectful to remember to only venture in through a crack tiny enough not to let anything fall out.

The past few weeks, maybe longer (who knows when it all becomes part of your everyday) my poor head has been a victim overcrowding. Too many thoughts and emotions, many, if not all, had been left unchecked and stored away for a time when I could devote a few moments to ponder them. I either never had the time, or more likely, squandered it away on doing something else more fun.

So now I am left with the junk stuff of my head and my heart, laying in heaps around me. I know I should sort through them, as some may be worthwhile to hang on to. But I am more inclinced to sweep the lot of them up, and toss them in the garbage, not caring to look back at what had seemed so important to elevate me to fits of giggling, or reduce me to tears in the presence of staff, customers and reps alike.

That being said, I know that every piece that sits at my feet crumpled and neglected, has changed me and the way I look at the world. I don't know why this accumulation should have such a profound affect upon me, and yet it has. As I sit here and think that trying to answer the "why?" of it would prove to be too difficult to even attempt, I find myself with the answer, at least in part. These things are not mine, they are what others have given to me (in good conscience or bad), they have been shoved at me with either a lack of explanaition or with words chosen to make a point about where I rank in the general order of that person's universe. They are other people's problems and expectations, and I wordlessly accepted them.

I've had a great many things become clear this past little while. Not many were expected, in fact, some were completely out of the blue. But what can you do? Sweep out the garbage that belongs to those who don't deserve to have that much say in my emotional well being, be thankful that my own stuff is tucked tightly, if not a bit skewed, inside of me. And, I suppose, be glad, just because I can be.