It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Relax, relax. I'm not as materialistic as you might think. On the contrary, it took me almost three weeks to come up with a list of things that I want for myself. It's not that I'm hard to shop for - I could spend hours in the Eaton Centre looking at shoes and jewelry and other female necessities- it's more that I don't know if I want anything badly enough to ask for it specifically. Regardless, my mom asked for a list, and a list my mom shall recieve. This way, she can pick and choose, and I can have a reference to come back to when I get a nice, fat, christmas bonus from my employer (which, honestly, isn't going to happen).

I am a material girl. Go ahead and say it. But indulge me, this once.

1. Hardcover editions of my Favorite Classics:
A Little Princess
The Secret Garden
Little Women
A Little Prince
Charlotte's Web
Anne of Green Gables
Tuck Everlasting
Heidi
Old Yeller
Little House in the Big Woods
*each of these books in intensely special to me for different reasons. I would love to eventually have a library of all my dearest books that I can read and reread as many times as I want

2. A pair of Frye Cowboy Boots, like these ones from Victoria's Secret



3. DVDs
Desperate Housewives Season 1
24 Season 2
Shakespeare in Love
Sleepless in Seattle

4. A nice, warm sweater from the Gap, AmEagle, RWCo, etc

Okay, so the cowboy boots are a stretch ... but could you image strutting down the street in a pair of Fryes? Where I come from (calgary ... yahooooo!), that'd make you TOP DOG. I guess I'll keep dreaming for that big christmas bonus!

In the meantime - thanks, y'all, for putting up with my list :D

Now I Can Die in Peace

The last time I was on a vacation, I was 10 years old and my mom, brother, step-dad and I all went to Mexico and spent two weeks in a resort. The memories that I have vary from awful (I was stung by a jelly fish, my mom and gord fought a lot, I had to wear dorky 1980's hand me downs) to amazing (who doesn't love to boogie board in mexico!). Now, in 10 days, I will be going on my first vacation in 12 years, and I almost don't know what to expect. The family I nanny for is taking me with them down to the US Virgin Islands for 8 days, where I will be responsible for child care, diapers, baths, reading "good night moon" and trying to find kid-friendly food at the Ritz Carlton, where the menu is written entirely in French. I can't wait. I'm going to be worked to death, not paid a cent for it, and happy as a proverbial clam. I always used to be so jealous of friends who went away with their families at Christmas time - now, I get to join the ranks - even if I'm just the paid help.

It's been a long week folks, and it's only a few more hours until I'm done work and I get to see "rent" with my amazing boyfriend and our amazing pal Ginny -- a great way to end a hell of a day (too boring to talk about, but crazy, believe me). Have a wonderful and safe weekend, and I'm sure you'll hear from me tomorrow, Steve and I are celebrating our one year anniversary with an honest to goodness, dress up, butterflies in the tummy date. Saturday night (not to mention my vacation!) couldn't come soon enough.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Tonight, on my short walk from the street car stop to my house, I witnessed a cat being mauled to death by two, large raccoons (and yes, I do live in downtown Toronto). I can't imagine how the argument started, or why the second 'coon decided to step in and help his buddy. I don't know how long they had been scrapping for. But there they were in the middle of the road, two snarling animals the size of dogs, high pitched screams coming from their mouths and a small, brown cat, barely mewing as it was killed. I was mortified. I feel a lot of remorse for not doing something to stop it, for not saving the cat. I feel sad for the family who lost a pet.

It was the first time that I had ever, in my entire life, witnessed something die. I've never seen an animal be euthanized, I've never been in the hospital room while someone was on their death bed, I've never watched one animal kill another. It's a strikingly present image. I can't imagine how I managed to go 22 years, escaping death entirely.

I hope that everyone, and their cats, are safe at home tonight. I'll say a little prayer for the kitten who died, and thank my lucky stars that I don't live in a place where people witness so much death that they are desensitized to it; I am thankful tonight for how little I've actually seen.

-b

A Dog's Life

It's time to get a dog - maybe not RIGHT NOW, but in the next few years. I actually don't think I can imagine my life without a dog for very much longer; as soon as I'm settled into a somewhat long-term living and working arrangement, I'll make an addition to my little family of one.

First, I want to get a nice, big poodle-mix, like a labradoodle or a wheaten terrier-poodle, like this one: Which I would name "Seaweed"

Then, I want to get a pug-mix, like this little pug-beagle and I'll name him "Duckie" ... after my favorite movie character of all time.

At least, that's the plan for today. So many dogs, so hard to choose!

John Orr, in Pictures

On the subway - look at how sexy we make the TTC!


On the bus, slightly drunk, en-route to the wine and cheese at Julie's ... classy!


Steve, forever remembered now as 'the guy who forgot to keep his eyes open" (other wise known as Steve, post-bambino)


Katie, Car, Ginny and Sarah


Steve and E-Way ... potentially my future Vancouver housemate :D


A spontaneous LFO reunion of sorts (and no, Steve, you'll never know)


How's this for symbolism? Queen's Bands: Ghosts of the Past (and yes, I'm the biggest dork on the internet)


Dan Jacob joins in on the fun


A somewhat better pic of me and my red-eyed boyfriend


Classic Steve and Cam .... after they made me take about 14 shots of them in different poses

Back to work I go, I guess. I felt so tired this morning that I barely had the energy to hit my snooze button 5 times. But don't worry. I did it anyway, and was gladly late for work as a result.

Another weekend, another Queen's reunion

I'm now 24 hours into a hangover after going to the John Orr Alumni ball with more total people than I've seen in Toronto since I've moved here (for the record, the posse consisted of Steve, Sarah, Erin Way, James, Ginny, Katie, Kevin D, Julie and her BF Dave, Kristina and Goeff D) It was almost like a high-school reunion - lots of talking to people that you sort of recognized but didn't really have the motivation to keep in contact with, a few genuinely surprising and welcome appearances from people who played an important part in your university life, a lot of crazy Queen's Bands dancing and playing, big smiles, sore feet, lots of booze. It was a classy affair - the first black tie event I've ever attended - and for the first time in my life, I felt as though I had truely achieved adult status. When we all piled into Julie F's apartment, drinking wine, eating little pieces of crusty bread and talking about our jobs and our apartments, I felt as though some part of my life had, without my knowledge, given way to something more polished and refined. Then again, it could all have been an illusion, albeit a welcome one. I felt fantastic, Steve looked like a million bucks, and I was treated like a Queen by the alumni association. I guess there's something to be said for the degree that I have rolled up in my closet somewhere. And something more important to be said for friendships that genuinely transcend the barrier between university and the "real life"; I know now that I have people who I can get together with in 10 years, and still love as dearly as I did last night. I don't feel quite so alone right now.

I'm struggling to find meaning (which I'm sure is a pretty popular blog topic for twenty somethings). I was talking last night to a bunch of people who, regardless of what field they were working in, were overworked, underpaid, and with the exception of my ex-housemate who I ran into, who is currently making almost 100 grand a year- pretty unhappy. Like, straight across the board. And even though it made me feel better ('cause, y'know, misery loves company), I struggled with the idea that life can't be fantastic when you're starting out. That there can't be SOMETHING out there that will make us genuinely excited to wake up in the morning. And maybe, y'know, it can't be an external force. Maybe at this point it has to come from inside of us. I truely believe that young people are idealistic and wonderous and have bright, shiny dreams, because if we didn't, we wouldn't survive this part of our life. Like, the only thing that I can think about right now is how much better things are going to continue to get for me. I am scared of the day where I will wake up and say, "this is it. This is the best that it's ever going to be for me". Humans are creatures of self-renewal, and when we can throw out a husband as easily as we can throw out a broken microwave, maybe we never have to be content with what we have.

This is my goal -- to be content right now. Here, wherever "here" is this year, is good enough. At the same time, I want to make it count in a way that is meaningful either to me or to someone else. Whether I work on my health, start writing poetry, I dunno, just have something that matters to me, I feel like I may just come out of this battle a better person, rather than someone who spent the year waiting for life to start.

Time Stops for No Man

I'm back, I suppose, as much as I was ever gone. After a string of poorly-written blog entries about things that didn't matter (all of which I eventually deleted instead of posting them), I feel like I might as well write something, if only because I had a few kodak moments this week that stood out among the drudgery of cold, wet rain. Like, literally, it's been the type of weather in Toronto lately that makes you want to wrap yourself up in an Afghan in front of a fire place and read some sort of brooding epic, like Wuthering Heights. But I digress.

Kodak moments - beautiful things have been happening to me, things that are so small. Example: today, I thought it would be a good idea to take the kids on an outing to the passport office. Apparently, 1/2 of Toronto also had the same good idea, and we ended up sitting on the floor in the corner of an enormous waiting room filled with hundreds of bored-looking people, eating peanut butter sandwiches with no crusts, and debating how to spend the next 2 hours and 45 minutes we would have to wait before our number was called. I quickly calculated how many times I would have to sing the Spiderman Theme song to pass the time, and JUST as I was about to cut my wrist open with a plastic kiddie knife from ikea and die in the corner, unceremoniously covered in yogurt, tears and dog fluff (and with unwashed hair!) .... are you still with me here?.... a lady walked over and offered to trade numbers with us, effectively cutting our wait to 20 minutes. The woman was so kind, and I was probably not thankful enough, but I am eternally grateful to her for her gesture. I briefly considered posting one of those "thank you" notices in the Toronto Star, next to the obituaries and birth announcements, but decided against it -- honouring her here, instead. If you're out there, wonderful lady, thank you for potentially saving my life.

Sometimes the days feel like they have no real meaning, but when you clump them all together, in the rosy glow of hindsight, you realize that you're already 1/4 of the way through your self imposed "year off", and have somehow been surviving it, despite all of the complaining you do. I hate the feeling of wanting to complain. I mean, how bad is my life, really? I work. I sleep. I eat. Once in a while, when I'm lucky, I get to seduce my extremely seduceable boyfriend. I try to stay in touch with friends and family. I don't really have anyone here on Toronto that I'm close with, but at the same time, I don't really have any time to be close to anyone - I leave the house at 7 in the morning, and am home after 7pm, with just enough time to read a few pages of a good book, or write an email to my mom, before I get up and do it again. I'm alone, but not necessarily lonely, unless I really take the time to think about it. When I REALLY think about it, I'm so painfully lonely that my whole chest hurts and I want to take a bus back to Kingston and feel like I belong again. How I ended up this way, I'm not sure. Everyone important to me isn't in my area code. Maybe it's time to branch out.

My hockey team -- now there's a source of comfort. The game against Detroit is on in the background and I have all of the games marked in my little calendar so that I can keep up with them. Just a side note, I guess. I hate talking about depressing things. I'd rather focus on the Flames' winning streak, or on mine and Steve's 1 year anniversary, which is just a little more than a week away, or on my teacher's college applications, which are finally getting done. Despite the cold rain and my sometimes brooding attitude, there are little kodak moments everywhere. I just need to know where to look.

Today I'm grateful for:

- The lady, obviously, who gave us her ticket at the passport office, for no apparent reason (other than the lucky horseshoe that someone must have slipped in my pocket)

- the Calgary hockey game that is on TV, giving me a great excuse to stay in and veg

- Short cat-naps, caught wherever and whenever possible

-Getting a ride to the subway on a day where I just couldn't bring myself to walk (thanks, sweetheart)