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)

The Pumpkin King, in Pictures

Today, with the playground feeling slightly soppy and an entire afternoon looming before us, the kids and I decided that it would be a good idea to carve a pumpkin. Never mind the fact that I have never carved a pumpkin before in my life (and the kids certainly haven't, as their parents probably wouldn't let them near something to potentially dangerous as a knife, a gourd and a candle) - we were on a mission. I bundled up the littles and headed to the local organic food store; when the parents came home and killed me for making a mess of their children, at least I could tell them that there were no pesticides involved.

We found the perfect pumpkin. A plump, round, 15 pound giant with a nice smooth face for cutting out a design. Getting it (and the stroller) into the store was enough of a challenge -- getting it the 5 blocks home was gonna be impossible. So we came to a solution: Rebecca and the pumpkin strapped into the double stroller, and Peter helping me to push and making sure the pumpkin didn't roll out when we went down sidewalk declines.



The rest of the pictures pretty much tell the story of my afternoon. Take a look and see for yourself:



Rebecca, smiling with a crude version of "cheese"



Peter giving me his Jack-O-Lantern face



The mess that we made (god help us if the parents walk in the front door at this moment)



Look, it's me! And I'm a bit of a slob. (Yes, I let a four-year-old use my digital camera, and yes, I recognize the inherent risk. But it kept him occupied for ALMOST AN HOUR)



And this is the final product - a semi reasonable Jack O Lantern for the family. Boy was I proud of myself :D



So that was my day. Here's a cool link for you all: Try to beat my insane and incredible carving ability by testing your skills carving this online jack-o-lantern: http://www.toilette-humor.com/flash/carve_pumpkin.swf

Murphy's Law

If, IF there was any chance, you have a long, draining week at work where the weather man on the 7am news calls for nothing but rain and you're stuck with two very energetic children who aren't allowed to watch television and have incredibly short attention spans, chances are that you'll also wake up so sick on tuesday morning that you're barely able to walk without rolling your head around and smashing it into the door frame (true story).

This is what my sinuses look like (I found a lot of really cool pictures, but they were a lot more gross...)


And this is what the children were like, in my poor, sick little mind today (even though I let them watch spider man, eat the bubbles in the bubble bath and put nesquik in their milk, all of which are STRICTLY forbidden)


And the worst part is that I have to do it all again tomorrow, and this time, I don't have the luxury of *all-new* chocolate milk and television to keep them occupied.

I shall step off of my soapbox now and stop complaining. And yes, I am fully aware that there are people in earth-quake ravaged parts of this world who don't have televisions ... please don't make me feel guilty.

Turkey Weekend in Pictures

Random pictures from my weekend .....


Peter, 4 years old, hams it up for the camera (one of my nanny charges)



Steve and Lindsey, after the Leafs lost (it's hard to figure out why they're still smiling!)


Rebecca, 2 and a half years old, has fun painting on friday (one of the kids I am a nanny for)


Steve and I, hanging out at the Loose Moose with Lindsey Reed, watching the hockey game on Saturday night



If you're handsome-and-you-know-it, strike a pose in the mirror so that your girlfriend can capture you in all of your egotistical glory


Steve and his cousin Cam in Casa Loma after brunch


Casa Loma, a really neat historical site in Toronto where we had brunch with the Johns family on sunday morning


Steve's cousin Ashley and her boyfriend Jeff (she's my age) outside of Casa Loma


Steve and I outside of CL .... I hate taking pictures with myself in them.

I'm Hopping on the Bandwagon's Bandwagon

With *my* own version of itunes top 8 songs of September (and the beginning of October, since it didn't occur to me until today to see what I've been listening to). Pearl Jam's holy influence is clearly evident. Hopefully, this gem of a list will be enough content to appease the reading public until I recover from being absolutely exhausted and am able to post again.

1. "Hail Hail" by Pearl Jam
2. "Two Steps Behind" by Def Leppard
3. "Can't Keep" by Pearl Jam
4. "Let Me Down Slow" by the Rolling Stones
5. "Nothing Better" by the Postal Service
6. "Crush" by the Smashing Pumpkins
7. "Romeo and Juliet" by Everclear (with the greatest line ever ... "you look so fucking stupid)
8. "She is Love" by Oasis
9. "Oceans" by Pearl Jam
10. "Straight No Chaser" by John Coltrane

I've been doing a lot of nothing in September, save for sitting at my computer job hunting and listening to music; if nothing else, this is a really accurate look at my current musical personality. And since the hockey games *aren't* being shown on CBC tonight, and my cable service ("service"?) only gives me channels 1-10, I have a whole lot of nothing more to do :D

True Confessions of a Popcorn Addict

Tomorrow, I return to reality. After a month of doing what amounted to basically nothing (because really, in the 21st century, 'job hunting' and 'hitting the pavement' amounts to sending your resume via email to loads of companies and hoping it doesn't end up in the junk mail box) I start work tomorrow morning at 8:00am sharp. I hate the feeling of a new job -- one that I liken to the feeling of the first day of school, where you're nervous and excited and worried and have more questions than answers. Yes, I know that I'm looking after toddlers -it's not rocket science- but I'm also going to be in the delicate position of assuming the child rearing responsibilities of someone else's children. And I can bet you that they will want their children reared THEIR way. This means that everything from discipline to baby mozart to frying eggs must be done in particular a fashion. I'll also be taking responsibility for the family groceries, the family dogs, the pre-school activities (music, art, etc) and preparing dinner each night.

I'm exhausted just thinking about it. But thinking about money perks me up, just a bit.

So wish me luck - this is my life for the next 12 months! Let's all hope that in 12 months I don't reduce myself to talking in baby speak and walking around with a bit of spit up on my shirt without realizing it.

This Time All The Stars Were Real

(this will become a real review of Billy Crystal's show "700 Sundays", sometime tomorrow when it's not 2:30 in the morning!)

-b

The Nanny Diaries

Well, I did it. I got myself a job. More importantly, I got myself a job that I swore I wasn't going to get myself. I took a nannying position today, caring for a 2 year old and a 4 year old, the parents of two very busy and rather wealthy lawyers. I'll be making a little more than 1600.00 a month after taxes, which (although less than a corporate position) is fine by me, since I figure that I won't be spending more than 1100 dollars in any given month. Perks? All of my meals are paid for, I get to wear sweatpants to work, and I don't have to deal with office politics, high heels, or any sort of job stress. Drawbacks? I start at 7:45 in the morning, and don't finish until 6 at night. Yeah - long days. But it's not as though I have anything else to do with my time this year, and anything that I would be doing while I was at home (reading, watching TV, going on the internet) I will have ample time to do there -- the kids are in school in the mornings, and take naps in the afternoons.

So this is it - I'm a working girl! I start next tuesday, and although i'm a little bit unsure, in that "what the hell am I getting myself into" sort of way, I'm also excited that I'll be making money. For the first time in years, I am never going to be worried about money -- about having enough to buy groceries or pay the bills. And that, my friends, is a fantastic feeling. Just call me Nanny Bri

Go-Go-Gadget Google(ism)

I've stumbled across a fantastic site (and I'm sure -please don't rub it in- that I'm absolutely the last to know, but I digress) Googlism (www.googlism.com) is a website that searches all of the websites on google for reference to a person, place or thing. Basically, it looks for judgement sentences or phrases involving a word of your choice.

So I went there, and typed in "Brianna". And here, in no particular order, are some of the things that people think and have wrote about Brianna, world wide:

brianna is a modern feminine form of brian

brianna is 100% dependant on me

brianna is the proprietress of blackthorne cottage

brianna is the kind of heroine i doubt existed in the twelfth century

brianna is too proud to ask labelle for help and instead sells most of her possessions at a yard sale

brianna is 3 years 10 months old

brianna is in therapy so she can learn to use her right eye again

brianna is the one with the attitude?

brianna is from arizona state and has just the right personality to work at the fries concession

And my personal favorite: "brianna is the result of an experiment involving science and technology"

But nothing could be so good as the following (after typing in "Stephen Johns") stephen johns is scheduled to be executed by the state of missouri on october 24th

There you have it, folks. Go and googlism yourself, and let me know if people think so positively about YOU!

Face to Face at Last

The underwater ocean world is a scary place -- ever since I was stung by a jelly fish in the pacific ocean in grade 5, I've been rightfully wary of the sharks, plants, fish and other oddities that live under the water. Like, it's INCREDBLE how little we know about what goes on there -- apparently deep sea has been dubbed the "real final frontier"; we know more about our galexy and solar system than we do about some places on our own planet. Case in point: today, for the first time in history, scientists captured live footage of the elusive giant squid, more than a kilometer beneath the ocean off the shores of japan. And this thing is huge - the average giant squid is significantly larger than a city bus ... could you imagine? After hours of struggling, when the squid broke free from the trap, it left behind a 5 meter long tentacle that was STILL FUNCTIONAL when they pulled it up on board the ship, suctioning itself to people and flopping around. And you wonder why I don't ACTUALLY surf. That's messed up. The coolest part is? We have no idea what else is down there.

Here's a picture of a dead giant flying squid ... it's 1/2 the size of the one they found today. Put that in your calamari and chew it!

The photographs that we don't see

her
Originally uploaded by Rosie O'Donnell.

In preparation for a scalding entry tonight on celebrity blogs, I was perusing Rosie O'Donnell's photos on her blog, which lead me to her flickr collection (online photo album, for those of us who aren't blog saavy). And there, within pictures of her getting dressed for her stint on Fiddler on the Roof and shots of her kids going to school, were a collection of pictures of New Orleans. Whether these were sent to her or taken by Rosie herself, it's hard to say.

It's hard to say a lot about this, actually. And graphic as it might be, I think it's really important to know that it exists. The death toll today rose above 1000 people and as more staff are hired to sweep the waters and check each and every attic, closet and basement, more are going to be found. I'd like to reccommend that this photograph, in particular, be used for the 2008 Republican Campaign. Pity the man (or woman, fingers crossed) who has to inherit this backwards, confused and war-hungry administration. This girl didn't get to go to her first day of school this year. There's not a lot that anyone can do to fix that.

Dick Cheney mentioned in an interview that George Bush was "lucky" to have Hurricane Rita roaring towards the Texas coast, because it gave him a second chance to repair his damaged relationship with the american public by providing faster emergency services. But a hurricane, and 1000 ensuing deaths, isn't something that you get a practice shot at. That's why you were hired for the job - for the one-shot deals. The world is watching, and I sincerely hope that after the storm passes this weekend, there won't be any photographs like this one for us to bear.

-b

3 Concerts in Review

And just like that, the era of my life that I like to call "touring steve and frantically trying to secure tickets at the last moment Bri" has come to an end. As much as I've neglected my blog this summer, I feel like it deserves a second chance. Something about the semi-publicness of this space kind of got to me; I couldn't decide whether to take the "fuck-it" attitude and write whatever I felt like writing, or try to please the throng of admirers (usually telling me that they like my blog, keep up the good work, and have I been to their travel site recently?) and write something that might actually be worth reading. THEN, I realized that unlike my word-slut boyfriend, I'm not a writer. Not for other people, anyway, and attempting to write something worthwhile and failing is much more embarrassing than pretending like I don't care.

Where does that leave me? 2 weeks into the new year and 4 concert reviews behind! The blog must go on, if only because I promised myself that it would, and it really has become an exercise in self-discovery. And while I may only aspire to the likes of the blog-greats, I still want to hope that my words could mean something ... even if only to myself ... in 50 years. I constantly think about Ann Frank, who my best friend bears a striking resemblance to; she had NO idea her diary was going to be published in 36 different languages and read by millions of people. Shouldn't I at least be considerate of the possibility?

Right - the concerts. I won't attempt to write an intellectual and well-constructed review, but I do have a few notes about seeing Pearl Jam 3 times on their cross-Canadian tour, and U2 wedged inbetween for good measure. Most of them are positive. My first PJ experience, in particular, was extraordinary. The London venue was gorgeous, small, intimate and packed with genuine die-hards who had an energetic wave going before the show started. It was electric. At that point, not having ever seen the band in concert, everything that I heard was a treat. Seeing the show with Steve made it 100% more meaningful to me -- knowing how excited he was to be there was something that I fed off of. in a strange way, I was really proud of him. He was surrounded by people who claimed to be PJ's biggest fans and he held his own. I was proud to tell the couple sitting next to us that he was sitting 7th row at the Thunder Bay show. I was proud when he knew the names of obscure Bruce Springsteen and Dead Kennedy covers that I had never heard before. I was proud that he knew all of the hand signals to the song Animal. Like, he just glew. Couple that with a blistering set-list, including oft sought after but rarely played "Hard To Imagine" and I was TOTALLY satisfied.

Being satisfied didn't stop Michael and I from being complete idiots, however. He came home from work the following night and asked me how the concert was. After gushing about it to him, I casually mentioned that the Hamilton show that night hadn't quite sold out yet. He eyed me cautiously. "We should go", he said. I tried to gage if he was serious. "Could you imagine how crazy that would be?" I replied. And we looked at each other. After a drawn out silence, he suggested, "do you want to?"

And that was it. We got Alana, who probably could name two Pearl Jam songs, tops, to drive us to Hamilton, picked up 40 dollar scalpers tickets and took it in from the back of Copps coliseum. The set list was solid, I heard a TON of songs I hadn't heard the night before and I was totally fucking proud of myself for being such a bad-ass.

The third show, in Toronto, I managed to get a ticket to from Alana, who decided after the Hamilton show that PJ wasn't her groove. I was more than happy to agree, if not persuade her that she was right. Again, an awesome performance, an awesome setlist, an awesome crowd.

HIGHLIGHTS:
- hearing "Small Town" for the first time live
- seeing Stone, who had been asked to sing, approach the mic and say, "What I really want to do is dance" ... with sexy butt-shaking to follow
- Bono and Eddie, along with a trio of tambourines, ripping up "Keep On Rocking in the Free World" together during the second encore in Toronto
- All of the solid, friendly and gracious PJ fans that I met and had wild conversations with
- Phone calls from Steve from each of the 4 venues that I didn't go to, with his cell held up toward the stage so that I could hear whatever was playing
- Hearing "Hard to Imagine", "Thumbing My Way", "Oceans", "You Are", "In My Tree", "I Am Mine" and "Present Tense"

DISAPPOINTMENTS:
- sitting up in the 300s was a lot different and a lot less special than being on the floor
- not hearing "Long Road", "Baba O'Reilly" or "Last Kiss"

So I guess, in the end, I completed a little tour of my own! More on the U2 concerts later (well, concert singular). I'm off to sleep.

Random Photo #4

The lovely Alex and I on a walk-home shift. As to his head-dress, your guess is as good as mine!

I Can Hear The Bells

There is no feeling quite so giddy as having that 'underwater' effect in your ears post concert, where everyone sounds like they're yelling at you while submerged in a bathtub. The shock of the normal decibel range sounds almost foreign, as though the concert was in technicolour and the rest of the world in shades of grey. That's how you know you had a good night -- if you've damaged your hearing. More than an hour after Bono and Eddie Vedder brought down the ACC tonight during a passionate cover of "Rockin' in the Free World", my ears are ringing and I have blisters on the bottom (yes, bottom) of my feet, either from walking from my house to the ACC (in a cool 47 minutes) or from standing in section 321 for a solid 2.5 hours straight.

It was a strange and unexpected way to end what was already a strange and unexpected day for me. Beyond the fact that I was somehow able to catch the Pearl Jam craze before it moved east to the lovely city of Quebec ... City (and ending my lovely boyfriend's obsessive, 2-week string of PJ shows in 7 different cities, thus returning to me a much more normal, if slightly exhausted Steve), today was also notably the day that I dropped out of graduate school.

It was such an easy thing to do. And I feel like a bit of a biter to be writing about it here today, because Steve and I actually resigned from our respective University of Toronto programs within hours of each other, but it was a legitimate decision for each of us. And yes, we're probably going to start picking out matching outfits and power walking in the mall together, now that we have all of this time on our hands and have evidently decided to make all of our decisions jointly, but I digress. I am no longer registered as a masters student at the Graduate Centre for the Study of Drama and I feel as though I maybe never was -- as though it was merely a typo on a long list of good decisions with positive repercussions. Coming to Toronto was a good decision. Deciding to enlist in higher education was a good decision. But drama, for me, was no longer a good decision. Part of me applied for the program because there was nothing else that I could see myself doing this year. Part of me applied just for the excitement and honor of getting in. I like challenges. I like to see how far I can take myself. I was proud to tell people that I was going to graduate school - it was something that very few people in my family (2, that I can think of ... My dad and a great-uncle) would be able to say. But I never really made the distinction between being passionate about getting a grad degree and being passionate about committing myself to 5 full credits of graduate drama.

Right away, I think, as soon as I went to my first class (which happened to be taught primarily IN Italian) I knew that I was in the wrong place. The things that I wanted to study in detail and the way I wanted to contribute my knowledge and passion no longer had any real connection to this community. I don't care about dramaturgy or directing or women in 20th century theatre or Canadian history ... or anything. I felt so indifferent that I debated attending my second class, and my third. I was in the wrong place. I want to teach and work with children and make decisions about curriculum and get people excited about art. So I went in today, explained this to my graduate co-ordinator (who sent me on my way with a big hug and a promise to stay in touch, bless her) and I'm done.

What next? I have no idea. I also, as of today, have no child support, no more interest-free student loans, no disability income from my mom's pension, no health insurance, no flight benefits, no money in my bank account and no job. And yes, I did happen to have a bit of a breakdown yesterday. But I'm so excited about the idea of spending a year on ME: making money (soon, soon), exercising, reconnecting with friends, volunteering for a group that I care about, getting to know Toronto, and most of all - NOT going to school, that my positives seem to brightly outshine any obstacles that I'm going to have to overcome. I have nothing but choices and therefore nothing but opportunities, all of which I can't wait to be a part of. I'm reminded of my favorite Jann Arden line, which I come back to every time I feel lost:

"feet on ground/heart in hand/facing forward/be yourself"

and I think to myself that I can really do it. It has been a REALLY big day for me, but like Steve told me last night, maybe it was the day AFTER I dropped out that I was really scared about. Hopefully tomorrow, when things are inevitably tough again, I won't forget how 'right' I feel right now.

Look ahead in the distance

I don't know why I've put this off for so long. I've been waiting to find a punctuation point over what has quickly become the chaos of the last two weeks here in Toronto; I need a moment where I feel like I've achieved enough to be able to comment objectively, or even subjectively, about anything. But everything feels like it keeps looping over itself -days, nights, to-do lists, worries, excitement, change- and I can't get far enough away from my life, disentangled maybe, to be able to write about it.

So here I am. The current scene doesn't appear, to the casual observer, any different from the previous two weeks. My music is playing (softly, because Michael's asleep), I've got a bowl of dry cheerios in front of me (the milk went sour), I've cleaned my room and wrote some emails and made a couple of phone calls and checked for text messages from my boy friend (there were none), and worried a bit about bills and people and other things that are really hard to worry about because you can never really make things right. But the difference tonight, the big difference and the reason why I'm able to sit down and spill my guts, is that I've found my punctuation mark, as it were. I'm coming up for air. Today, I pretty much made the decision to drop out of grad school.

But saying "dropping out" sounds so ugly. It makes it seem as though I've failed somehow, when I truly believe that it was the program that failed me. Okay, maybe it didn't FAIL me, but it certainly didn't live up to my expectations. And honestly, when I give it enough serious thought, I'm not even that emotionally invested in it. Like, it doesn't bother me that I won't be going, don't want to be going. I kind of just feel numb, really.

I tried to explain it to someone tonight by likening it to sexual attraction. When you meet someone with whom you have chemistry, you want to get to know them more. They excite you and intrigue you and make you nervous and you want to get to know them better. Sure, they may turn out to be a horrible match for you, and you end up burning pictures of them over a garbage can, but at least you gave them a chance. At least there was that spark. But with me and grad school, it was like there was no spark at all. As soon as I became a part of the graduate program, I realized that it and I didn't have a future together. There was no attraction, no interest; I was even somewhat repulsed. I think that it might be better for both grad school and I to end things now while we're still able to be amicable, rather than delaying an inevitably messy and expensive divorce down the road. No hard feelings, Drama Centre et al. ... I'm just not that into you. It's not you, it's me. I'm sure you'll make someone very happy one day. I'm also sure that one day I'll be able to love school again - I just need a little bit of time right now to figure out who I am.

Speaking of which (or not, really, but a segue of some sort seemed necessary), have you ever met someone with a defeatist attitude when it comes to relationships? Their attitude is, "every relationship that I will ever have, with the possible exception of one, will end in a break-up" ... so why bother at all, right? I always hated when I was in junior high and high school and would have to field comments from people about my relationships like "you know you're not going to get married, right?" Of course I knew. But eventually, you find the person that you ARE going to get married to, ergo you have to treat each relationship as though it might be the one. I mean, we have no idea, do we.

Just some vague and rambling observations, I guess. I'm trying not to get into the gritty detail of my life in the past few weeks, because it's just as boring as it is complex to me. I moved to Toronto, painted my bedroom, bought a bunch of Ikea furniture, drove a UHaul around for a day with Steve-as-wingman, got organized for school, started school, hated school. I dunno. It all seems so average and uneventful and meaningless. I feel homesick, but I'm not sure what for. Queen's? No - I was ready to leave by the time I was finished, excited to move on to new things. Vancouver? Vancouver isn't really home for me. I dunno. I guess I just want something that makes me feel secure. I act as though I can easily accomodate change, but the truth is that it throws me into a spiral that I struggle to get out of. I like constancy. I like knowing. I like security. I like routine. I don't like feeling scared and lonely, and I dislike writing about it even more.

A couple of days ago while I was organizing my files, I came across a large stack of thank you letters, love letters and friendship letters that I had accumulated over the last 10 years or so - everything from a valentine that I got from a boy in grade 4, to a letter from Alana at the end of university that still puts a lump in my throat to read. Spreading out the cards and letters, looking through old professions of love from boys I had once kissed, christmas cards from junior high friends ... made me feel like if I could somehow wrap up the security and affection from them, I would know how to be happy. I love writing letters, although my letter writing project went a little bit astray. I am reminded of how important it is to tell other people that you appreciate them. My collection is now in a special box, ready to be pulled out any time I feel like no one knows I exist yet in this big city.

It's getting late ... almost two hours after I started (and after various inturruptions). I'm not sure if this is what my entry was supposed to be like, or if I meant to swing it towards sports and shows and concerts and other things that are a little less about me and a little more about my world. But this will have to do. Once I get things figured out, you'll be the first to know. Until then, thanks for listening.

-b

Animal Liberation

If you're looking for a really controversial topic to bring up around the water cooler in these last days of the summer job, take a look at PETA's "Animal Liberation" website, and try to understand the basis behind some of their arguments. Pictures of elephants in chains being compared to pictures of african slaves in chains. Get it? We're bad people. We chain up the animals and the animals deserve to be free. Pictures of animals being housed like cargo, likened to pictures of immigrants being housed like cargo. The insinuation that the lynchings of hundreds of thousands of black people are somehow equivelent to the slaughter of a bull for meat. And the message? Liberate the animals. The cows, chickens, Indians and African Americans alike. Love them all, and let's treat them all like they deserve to be treated. Just because they're animals doesn't mean they don't have feelings ...and get yourself a vegetarian starter kit while you're at it.

I don't know what to make of it, other than that while radical underground rumblings are usually heaving society in the right direction, sometimes they make me question how far we've really come.

Katrina lurking

I've had a hard time sitting down at my computer and writing a complete and coherent blog entry. I have at least three files on my desk top right now labelled "unfinished blog entry (1/2/3)", one dating as far back as my trip to Calgary and Thunder Bay in July, but I can't seem to construct an entry that reflects the emotional rollercoaster that I've been on lately. By the time I get half way through writing, my mood changes entirely, my thoughts invariably follow, and I have to start all over again.

So here I am at midnight, stuck on the North Saanich penninsula of Vancouver Island due to a ferry malfunction (which, admittedly, isn't a horrible place to be stuck) and I've been thinking about hurricanes and weddings. And the more I think about it, the less possible it seems to incorporate both of these thoughts into a blog entry that can really frame my state of mind. Like, I'm completly random.

But I thought you should know that although I've never been in a hurricane, I think that they're fascinating. I also get a little bit excited when one starts building in the Atlantic, the tiny low pressure centre spinning and becoming darker and darker in colour on the radar map. Is that morbid, to be excited about natural disasters? Sometimes when I'm walking on the beach --which, in BC, isn't the miles of white sand that you see on the Club Med brochure, but a rocky, wild, coastline-- and I imagine that the waves could crash down and pick me up, carrying me off. I like to think about how powerful they are. I used to let myself get tossed in the waves when I was younger, afraid and awed at the same time. Hurricanes, I suspect, are just bigger, more powerful and more awe inspiring. There's something extraordinary about a cloud, a mass of air that we can see on our radars but can't stop, inching towards a shoreline and systemically wiping out our carefully planned cities, our houses and our shopping malls and our climate controlled sports arenas and making everyone realize how trivial everything is. It just makes so much sense. I mean -- we've put people into space. We've cured diseases. We've conquered the living planet, but all that we can do when a hurricane rolls in is board up our windows and wait for it.

The knowing is the wildest part, to me. Earthquakes and tornadoes, fire ... these are all so unpredictable -- it seems more tragic somehow, in their randomness, that they can be so destructive. But everybody knows when a hurricane is coming. Meteorologists can predict, sometimes days ahead, almost the exact hour that the storm will make landfall. Unlike other disasters, this one seems calculated. Inevitable. People board up, pack up and ship out. The tragedy, therefore, is the people that we see on the news (and there's always a few of them out there) that look right into the camera and pronounce, "my grandpaw survived the hurricane of '48, he built this here mo-bile home with his two hands, and I gots me some good strong wire to secure her down. We ain't goin' nowhere. This is our home and it's my american right to stay.... sure, I been hearin' dem warnings. I'm not scared of no storm. God is with me, I'm saying. I don't need to pack up when I've got Jesus Christ"

And the mobile home gets shipped out to sea in pieces, three days later, along with the rest of the Florida panhandle. Nature asserts herself again, and I, from my vantage point in the interior of British Columbia, follow on my computer and feel both stunned and excited to be a part of it. Morbid, but true.

And my thoughts on weddings, you ask? Many, and complicated -- best saved for another entry. I managed to make this one work on its own, anyway.

My 200th Entry

It’s amazing to me how different each day can be. I am sitting at my desk, watching the branches of the tree outside my window sway, lifting up and down in rhythm as though propelled by a pair of lungs. The phone rings in the background, but since I’m not on reception today, I don’t have to answer it. There’s nothing wrong with today, per say. I’m not sick, or working at a horrible job. I have no reason to be feeling blue, and I’m not, exactly. I just don’t feel like I’m here. I’ve been sitting at my desk for two hours now, picking at a blueberry scone and trying not to watch the clock every time the minute hand clicks forward. It’s exhausting, being bored.

Yesterday, time flew by. I felt bright and cheery, got my work done on time and was surprised when Stephanie came over to remind me to lock up, surprised that it was 5pm and I had been happily occupied the entire afternoon. I was lucky to have a day like that. Today, on the other hand couldn’t go quickly enough. Time is a funny thing, isn’t it? When you’re looking forward to something, when you really want time to pass quickly, it drags on; however, if you’re enjoying yourself, relaxing or otherwise having a good time, time flies. I know that this isn’t some sort of epiphany. I just wish I could figure out a way to trick myself, so as to make the next week and a half of work feel like it was over in a flash. All of my energy right now is looking forward – I came to Vancouver, achieved what I needed to get done (which, essentially, was make as much money as I could while spending as little as possible) and I feel not only ready but also overdue for the next step. Part of me, therefore, feels like I’ve already left here; my body sits at my desk for 40 hours a week, but my mind is on September, on starting classes and new friends and on Steve.

No one ever really explained to me how hard a long distance relationship could be and I’m not sure I gave it any thought the first time Steve and I kissed, thereby cementing the crazy attraction between us and launching us into couple-ness. I had ‘done’ long distance before – my ex-boyfriend lived in Tennessee and I spent summers working in Kingston, so with the exception of one summer living together in Mississauga, we spent 8 months of our 3 years apart- but it always felt temporary. For Steve and I, distance has been the rule, not the exception. When you’re not actually ‘with’ somebody, a lot of what is so wonderful about a relationship is intrinsically lost; no cuddling, no doing Sunday crosswords together, no sitting on the front porch for late night talks, no making dinner or doing errands, no “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by”, no meeting up for lunch between classes, and obviously no sex.. No one tells you how hard it is not to be able to have any intimacy like that. And it’s hard, we’ve found, to keep the sense of relationship intact when really, all we do is talk on the phone. I’m sick of it, and I’ve tried to be so patient with myself, I have. But the next … (counting) … 11 days couldn’t pass quickly enough. I’m so tired of waiting for it to get here.

11:17am. I’ve managed to pass 15 minutes. Someone needs to come and save me soon – I seriously don’t know how I’m gonna survive until 5:30 tonight.

Random Photo #3 -- "Sisters"

Sometimes we look really alike! These two girls are my heart and soul

to be yourself

To be nobody but yourself - in a world which is doing its best night and day, to make you everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.

e. e. cummings

Random Photo #2

Taken from the deck of the BC ferry en route to visit my grandparents. Beautiful BC!

Is it love or infatuation?

This article was published in the Calgary Herald on Valentine's Day while I was in high school. I've often thought about it, either in passing or for my own good, and never could find it published on the internet. While cleaning out my mom's filing cabinet for her tonight, I found the original article, now posted here for the sake of longevity, and because I think in the age of "every single person I know is getting married RIGHT NOW" it's always important to know that above all things, love is enough.

Infatuation is fleeting desire - one body calling to another. It is marked by a feeling of insecurity. You are excited and eager and maybe even giddy, but not genuinely content.There are nagging doubts, unanswered questions, little bits and pieces about the relationship that you would just as soon not examine too closely. It might spoil the dream.

Love is friendship that has caught fire. It takes root and grows, one day at a time.

Love is quiet understanding and mature acceptance. It is real. It gives you strength and grows beyond you - love bolsters and nurtures your beloved. You are warmed by their presence, even when they are away.

Miles do not separate you. You have so many wonderful films in your head that you keep replaying. Near or far, you know that your love is yours, and you can wait.

Infatuation says, "we must get married right away. I can't risk losing him".

Love says, "Be patient. Don't panic. Plan your future together with confidence".

Infatuation has an element of sexual excitement. Whenever you are together, you hope it will end in intimacy.

Love is not based only on sex. It is the maturation of friendship that makes sex so much sweeter. You must be friends before you can be lovers.

Infatuation lacks confidence. When he's away, you wonder if he is thinking only about you. Love, however, means trust. You are calm, secure and unthreatened. He feels your trust and it makes him love you more.

Infatuation might lead you to do things you will regret, but love never steers you in the wrong direction.

Love is elevating.
It lifts you up.
It makes you look forward.
It makes you better than you were before.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Johns

Today is my boyfriend Steve’s 25th birthday – the quarter century, as it were, and a celebration that he claims marks the end of adolescence (although I might beg to differ). In honor of the occasion, and because I’m in Vancouver and he’s in Toronto and I can’t do anything in person to make his day special, I’ve made a list of 25 things about Steve that are unique, strange and wonderful, and consequently, all reasons why I love him so much.

1. If you’ve met Steve, you’ll know how passionate he is. Whether it’s baseball statistics, “Rent” the musical, or Pearl Jam set lists – he puts all of his energy into things that he cares about.
2. He puts me to shame with a cribbage board (and can count cards so fast, I like to call him Rain Man”)
3. He’s the best writer I’ve ever met – seriously. After reading his blog, it’s hard to dispute that this man’s got a phenomenal way with words
4. He’s there for his friends. One of the first things that attracted me to him was how genuine and attentive he was to the people around him. Steve’s got a TON of friends, and it’s 100% due to the fact that he treats people well and makes them feel important
5. He’s funny. Sort of. Just not when the jokes are about me
6. He likes to argue. Sometimes he’ll argue with me even when he agrees with me, just to wind me up. He could debate any point in the world, whether or not he believes it and win without breaking a sweat. This is generally VERY frustrating for me
7. He’s a great partner for kicking the soccer ball around, throwing a football, or patiently trying to teach me how to play Frisbee – there isn’t a sport that he isn’t totally adept at
8. He helps strangers, offers his seat on the subway to the elderly and gives his change from Tim Horton’s every day to the homeless man who holds the door open
9. He makes sure that I wake up in the morning, and that I don’t get horribly lost in downtown Toronto
10. I have never, *NEVER*, in 9 months of dating, seen him cook. I actually don’t think that it’s in his genetic make up to prepare food (although he does put together a mean bowl of dry cheerios, half of a peeled banana and little cubes of cheese … and no, I have no idea why we’re still together)
11. He’s awake every day before 8 in the morning, regardless of what he’s doing that day. I, on the other hand, used to sleep until 2pm before I met him. I am very, VERY grateful that there’s someone around to say to me, ‘Bri, get the heck out of bed, you lazy slug’(or maybe not!)
12. Steve is a self-proclaimed “hater”, but I think it’s a façade to cover up the fact that he’s probably TOO nice
13. Steve is probably just as crazy and neurotic as I am; we’ve both got the weirdest quirks, but we completely understand each other (well – most times, anyway)
14. He calls me “heed” for the fact that there was no category for my head on the circumference chart when I was born (it was MASSIVE), and I call him “fat guts” for the fact that he has a tiny roll of skin around his midsection that he believes to be his enormous, flabby belly
15. We like the same movies and never fight at the movie store (except when he wants me to watch Pulp Fiction … again).
16. We’re both perfectly content to sit on a couch every Sunday and bicker about football together, watching either the ‘Niners or the Vikings
17. Steve will always do everything he can to make life easier for the people around him
18. He is a creature of habit. He eats the same thing every morning, orders the same doughnut and coffee every day at Tim’s, eats the same dish every time he goes to his favorite restaurant, and goes through the same routine each morning before starting work on his paper. It’s endearing, if not a little bit funny
19. He’s one of those guys who can ACTUALLY be showered and ready to go in less than 10 minutes
20. He’s the bravest person I know. He’s not afraid of anything that scares me, like needles, the subway people, or bugs. He’s helping me to become more brave, too
21. He’s an incredibly logical and rational person. When I get too emotional, or too overwhelmed by things, Steve can easily calm me down and help me formulate a plan
22. He’s a great listener, and really takes the time to understand what people are saying
23. Steve is the least romantic person I’ve ever met. I’m actually serious. If a word like “feelings” comes up in conversation, I get a blank stare, almost like I’m trying to explain calculus to a three-year-old. We love him anyway, though (because he’s still so genuine and fun)
24. He’s hot (sorry, but it had to be said)
25. He makes me feel incredibly lucky to be a part of his life
    
    Happy 25th Birthday, sweetheart!
    
    Okay, okay – the sap is over. You can all go back to what you were doing.

Another one bites the dust

I had great plans for this weekend. I haven't been in Vancouver for the past two, and hoped to spend some time out in the sunshine, get more painting done (project "paint the entire apartment" is going slow and tenuously, at best) and work on making a dent in the book I'm reading. Sadly, it's Sunday night, and while yesterday I was able to make it out of the house, today I did absolutely nothing. I can't recall watching any television, spending all that much time on the internet, or doing ANYTHING around the house. It took me until 4:00 to even take a shower. I just didn't see the need to expend that much energy if I wasn't planning on getting off of the couch until monday. It was the heat that did me in for sure; it was only about 29 degrees outside, but our little 7th floor apartment heated up to ... well, I don't know, but it was much, much warmer.

So my update is going to be random, since I have nothing really fantastic to say about the last 48 hours, except that it brings me 48 hours closer to being done work and facing the daunthing task of grad school (which I'm so excited about, I'll start shaking at the thought).

Thought #1: The 49ers aren't staging the comeback that I have been fantasizing about
And as Steve pointed out, it *is* a little bit early to be making determinations about an entire season. But when Alex "the fate of a franchise is on my shoulders" Smith went 3 for 9 and managed a grand total of 0 first downs in his first time at the helm of an NFL offence, it's difficult not to feel a little thwarted. Smith put together 25 yards of offence, rushed for 7 in two attempts and was sacked twice. I don't have much to say now, except that no amount of talent in the world will compensate for experience; I have high hopes for him as he grows into the team and the league. Whether he gets a starting position this year is up in the air, for sure.
(I was gonna keep this thought going, sending digs to the special teams unit, but realize I'm starting to sound a lot like Steve, so I'll move on)

Thought #2: In Other News...

• A man's body was found in the landing gear of a plane that travelled from montreal to paris. He was, of course, dead. The funniest part is that apparently he had been stowed away in the luggage, but realizing that he couldn't travel there (can anyone say airpressure?), he made it as far down as the airplane's landing gear before dying. Who knows.
• There's a 12-year-old in manitoba who is already being scouted by top NFL teams. The reason? He hasn't even hit puberty yet, and he's already 5'11 and weights 280 pounds. He recently outgrew his size 13 sneakers and doctor's suggest that he still has at least another 6 inches to grow. His mom, apparently, had to sew extra pieces of fabric onto his football uniform just so that he could play
• I love this one: two men in Ontario in their mid-30s have decided to get married. Not a big deal, right? Well it might be, seeing as how they're not gay. The men decided to see if they would be taken seriously, and given that they were, are now enjoying the tax and other financial benefits of being married in the eyes of the law.
• This story is fantastic, simply because the man remarks, "Every time I reach a Starbucks I feel like I've accomplished something," Winter said, "when actually I have accomplished nothing." That pretty much sums up everything I think about everything that's wrong with this world.

I guess I'm one to talk, hey? I too, have accomplished nothing. But at least I'm not bragging about it (and in case you were wondering, yes, I did cut all of these little articles out of the newspapers that I'm forced to read at work, looking for articles about my company)

Steve Montage

Do you ever notice that when we're dating people, we tend to fall in line with their speech patterns; like adapting small nuances into our behaviour that make us ultimately more similar? Most people adapt without really being conscious of it. I've definitely picked up on some of steve's phrases and mannerisms, if only because he's so distinctive (and no, I won't get into it). But one thing I won't pick up, and take great delight in bringing to your attention, is his total obsession with his own dorkiness. He's like a puppy who just found his own tail (I had to bite my lip not to liken him to a boy who has found his own penis for the first time). Just about every blog entry lately has contained references like the following:

• I used to wake up at 6 o'clock in the morning for the sole purpose of downloading...and yes, this probably helps to explain why girls wouldn't talk to me in first year.)
• I've always enjoyed watching backstage footage, and yes, this helps explain why girls didn't talk to me until after second year)
• I'd like to think I've grown since then; if my five years at Queen's taught me anything it's that I should embrace my inner geek, and if this blog hasn't thoroughly convinced you that I'm the biggest nerd you've ever met then I'm clearly not trying hard enough.
• Just when you thought I couldn't possibly be any dorkier, I'm back with a column about fantasy sports.
• If that statement didn't seal an eternity in Geek Heaven, I don't know what will. Of course, this begs the question: would Geek Heaven be a better place today if I was already there? Oh, but I digress.
• But this is the kind of stuff I live for--and yes, it helps explain how I graduated a virgin. Also, if you weren't quite convinced I'm the world's biggest dork...well, read on
• The lesson, as always: I'm a dork. But you know that already...and since I've got nothing to hide, here are my final few, fragmented thoughts from a day spent watching the "biggest concert in the history of the world".
• Example #54,294 of why I'm the biggest dork alive: I spent no less than three hours of my day today following the on sales for Pearl Jam's fifteen Canadian concerts.

The man has discovered and come to terms with his inner geek. And even though I'm not going to be so vocal about mine, I'm damn proud of him for it - dating the smartest person I've ever met has certainly only made me better. Thanks for being such a loser, sweetheart. I wouldn't want you any other way!

The Breeder's Cup

Because my boss doesn't come in until about 10:30 today, I've got the radio playing at the front desk; a luxury I am rarely afforded and take full advantage of whenever I get the chance. Listening to Vancouver's top-40, completlely mainstream station, the morning DJ came on between MB20's "Real World" and Dido's "White Flag", and announced a new contest that the station would be sponsoring. They're calling it the Breeder's Cup and they're accepting applications from couples to compete to conception. In case this makes you say "huh?", essentially what they're doing is taking three couples, and making them race to see who concieves a baby first. That's right - baby making as entertainment.

There are a huge number of things that are totally fucked up about this.

1. What if a couple is only entering the contest for the 20,000 worth of prizes, and never intended on having, never wanted and never thought about the responsibility of having a child?
2. What do you tell your kid when they grow up? "Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much. Also, you were a publicity stunt."
3. I honestly look at the idea of having children/creating a baby as one of the more sacred and miraculous things that two people can share together. Why cheapen it like this?

It's like when people gave pet pigs to their kids for christmas after Babe became a popular movie. Sure, a piglet is a cute thing to have around the house, but when it grew up into a 250 pound hog that rooted in the carpet and ate the cat, what happens then? Nobody really considered this. There are pig sanctuaries across Canada and the US housing hundreds of the Babe-craze ex-pets, saving them from being slaughtered in the backyard. Not that I'm suggesting that these kids are going to grow up and eat the cat, but I am thinking that more foresight might be necessary. Having a kid is a commitment for the rest of your life ... the radio station might only reap the benefits for a few weeks. Just my thoughts on the matter

Random Photo #1

I've got a lot of them - I might as well share one with you


This is me, my brother, my dad and two willing statues in Sidney, BC

Home is where the heart is

Today was mundane in every way except one: I woke up according to the long-distance persuasion of my boyfriend, worked a woefully normal work day consisting of me spending as much time as possible becoming acquainted with the 2005-2006 Calgary Flames roster while still appearing to be 'working' (the key is to always have an excel spreadsheet up that I can switch to when someone walks by my cubicle), I ate a normal lunch and wrote normal emails to friends instead of working on the database that I'm supposed to be formulating values for.

But something worth mentioning happened, and for the first time I feel as though things are finally falling in to place. Today, Michael P. J. Jones and I got a house. Which is both the most random and most logical situation I could ever imagine for myself. Today I feel like I finally have roots in Toronto. I have a small, clean, inexpensive corner of the Annex to call my own, and suddenly everything feels right again. So before I move there and my idealism is tempered by malfunctioning toilets and closets overrun with spiders (if there are even closets at all) and a serious lack of counter space (all of the things that you say "no big deal" about when your house hunting, not realizing just what a big deal they are), I just want to say that I am truly grateful to have this place. I'll be 10 minutes from school, 15 minutes from the subway, and on a beautiful tree-lined street, right downtown. Today I feel like it's finally the start.

I'm also grateful for:

• getting a full 8.5 hours of sleep last night to combat my travel weariness
• the bridge traffic being suspiciously less than it normally is on a week day afternoon, meaning that I arrived home in an unprecedented 43 minutes
• The Jerry Maguire soundtrack, proving itself to be a classic and keeping me company on two rounds through my CD player
• Finding gas that was 94.5 cents a litre
• Being able to tell the truth about something that was causing me a lot of anxiety and worry, and knowing that I could trust someone completely with things that were important and sensitive for me

Only 18 days of work left, in case anyone was counting. Toronto, here I come!

thoughts from 33,000 feet

Today I am grateful for:

• spending time by myself exploring a new neighborhood
• meeting new people that I find an easy and comfortable connection with
• friends who know me better than I give them credit for, and love me anyway
• sincerity (especially when it's least expected)
• having a sandal tan: proof that I'm not a crazy, albino loner andhave actually spent time in the sun this summer

I am on the way home from BC, weighed down with a small sense of impending doom (which seems dramatic, since going to work in the morning isn't nearly as horrible as I make it out to be). There is,however, something unappealing about being require to do something that I have no interest in doing, at a location that takes me far away from what I do want to be doing, at a time of the day that I would much rather be sleeping, with people who I don't particularly like(and some I have a hard time being civil to), all because I need to make 2000 dollars. It seems to me that there must be an easier way. And I mull over it too; I sit in bed and whine about having to get upin the morning. I get knots in my stomach when I think about having to spend another day of my life doing something that is boring. I knowthis about myself now – I absolutely hate being bored. This doesn't necessarily mean that I always have to be active. On the contrary, Ican happily spend half an hour, sitting quietly and reflecting, or an afternoon lying on a beach. I can waste away a day being quiet and inactive and self-absorbed, but when I'm FORCED to do something–anything- I immediately become resentful. I don't like traveling,because I'm not given a choice about sitting in one position for however many hours. I don't like school because I don't get to choose when I feel receptive to learning. And I don't like my job because I And I don't like my job because I feel a mixture of guilt and fear every time I dare to check my Gmailaccount to see if Steve has written to me yet. And yes, those emails are probably the only thing that keeps me alive, hour after hour at my desk doing nothing but answering the phone and filing mail and making envelope labels for people who are too lazy to do it for themselves.

But being in Toronto for the weekend made me feel really alive again.I felt like there were suddenly choices and opportunities and things to look forward to that I had never previously considered. I felt as though I could move to a little apartment in the Annex, and every day Iwould wake up not knowing if that day was going to be the day that my entire life changed. Every place I go could be where I end up meeting my life long best friend, where I could fall in love (or further in love, as the case may be), where I could make memories. It's cliché,but I love the idea of a fresh start. I'm excited about new furniture and new street names and a new route to class. I want new things to complain about and look forward to be and be anxious about at night-time before I fall asleep. Being in Toronto made me realize that growing up and getting closer to these huge goals that I've had for myself is a really exciting and fulfilling process. I feel like everything is finally just around the corner for me.

I know that the idea of Toronto is more romantic and carefree than the reality will be – I tend to create ideal scenarios in my mind and haven't been able to retrofit them to include reality. A summer in Kingston spending Saturday mornings at Chapters and walking the quiet,tree-lined streets at dusk with friends as we go out for a drink, working a restaurant job and making new friends, reading on the back porch and starting a garden turned into me living in a pig sty of a house with sticky floors and mould growing in the closet, not making enough money to meet rent, not having the time, energy or motivationto do fun things with friends and smelling like rotten tacos when I got home at night from work. I fled, for the ideal of Vancouver –rollerblading around the lake, grocery shopping with my mom andc ooking big, healthy meals, spending the weekends at the beach or downtown or on Vancouver Island. Reading, shopping, seeing theatre.What it has quickly turned into, however, is 50 hours a week of work, sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic in a car with no air conditioningfor two hours a day, sore feet, exhaustion, and packing little yogurts into my lunch bag every morning, day after day after day. I guess that my point is that I know Toronto isn't going to be the garden of eden that I probably am creating for myself in my head. But it becomes so easy to let go of that and settle into routine; easy to let the feeling that the whole world is out there collapse into the feeling that all there is are bills and work and laundry. I don't want to lose this excitement that I have – I need to make an effort to make not only mytime in grad school, but also make every day count for me. I want to explore, exercise, spend time with old friends and new ones, join a team, make my house feel like home, write in my journal, buy fresh cut flowers for myself once in a while. Because if I'm always looking forward to the next experience, fantasizing about how much better it will be than whatever it is that I am currently stuck in, than I'm going to end up 60 years old, and realize that I forgot to enjoy life.Maybe keeping this in mind will help me to enjoy my last 4 weeks in Vancouver, too – even with the 10 hours of commuting :D

This has turned into more of a ramble than I had originally intended.Still, I think it's good for me to be writing again. I have a lot of discourse and dialogue about a lot of topics that I think will be well worth exploring in the next few weeks. Sorry if I bored you with this one tonight. Something lighter might be in order, tomorrow, if my day puts me in a good enough mood.

One person was surveyed; the most popular answers are on the board

what time is it? 9:25 am
full name: Brianna Marie Johnson (and on a side note, a boyfriend in grade 8 once copied out a sonnet for me, and addressed it to Brianna Murrey Johnson)
age: 22
height: 5’4
weight: 137 lbs
eye color: Grey
hair color: Brown
skin color: Light
birthday: July 15, 1983
birthstone/sign: Ruby/Cancer
makeup or none?: It’s nice to look pretty, but I can survive without my lip gloss and mascara. When I was playing soccer in high school, I *never* wore make up
nationality: Canadian
school: Even though Queen’s still feels like home, I’m about to start my Masters degree at the University of Toronto

characteristics____x
devil or angel: I would like a bit more devil in me, but I’m generally all good
confrontational or let things slide: Let things slide. I’d rather bottle something up than risk hurting someone’s feelings
introverted or extroverted: Extroverted, with a strong need for alone time
aloof or concentrated: I don’t think I would ever choose either of these words for myself, but if I have to, I guess concentrated is the lesser of the two evils
are you one to take things seriously: If it’s necessary
very analytical of what others say: Less so than I used to be
do you think before you act: I’m impulsive in an “act now, consider the consequences later” sort of way
serious or comedic: both have their place and time
selfish or selfless: Selfless
do you consider yourself to be honest? I try really hard to be. Lying makes me feel sick inside.
describe yourself: Sunny, cheerful, optimistic, athletic; I wear my heart on my sleeve. Love animals, hoodies and hugs. I care a lot about family and having a place that feels like home.
how does your girlfriend/boyfriend feel about you?: Steve thinks that I have a big heart and a big head – he teases me a lot but I know that I’m important to him (because I make him tell me so :P)
how do you feel about yourself?: 95% of the time, I’m happy being who I am
describe your girlfriend/boyfriend?: Steve is stubborn, witty, careful to always make the right decision and is both the most intelligent and the most passionate person I’ve ever met. He has a really strong sense of self, and an exterior that doesn’t always betray how sensitive he is inside. In short, I’m absolutely fascinated (and often confused) by him
what would you rather be doing?: Curling up with my stuffed animal fat guts and taking a nap
describe where you live?: My home city always seems to be changing. Right now I’m living in Vancouver, one of my favorite places in the world. Everywhere I go, it’s green, green, green – and what’s not to love about the ocean?
describe how you love?: Easily and completely. My boyfriend would probably say that I love with too much heart and not enough head.
have a good sense of humor?: I have my own sense of humor (and Alana is the only one who gets it)
what did you have for breakfast this morning?: a pear. I was in a rush, and now my stomach is grumbly
what are you looking forward to?: Being finished with my job, moving to Toronto and finally being in the same city as Steve after spending 9 months in an LD relationshipany
major flaws?: Nothing that makes me so broken that I can’t be fixed!

favorites_________x
movie: Moulin Rouge, Sleepless in Seattle, Bend it Like Beckham, Shakespeare in Love, Big, Rain Man
television show: Dawson’s Creek, and I’m really starting to get hooked on 24
band: Oasis, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, U2, The Beatles
actor: Tom Hanks
actress: Reese Witherspoon
food: Caesar salad, lasagna, garlic bread, strawberry-rhubarb pie
ice cream flavor: Strawberry
song: Tom Waits/Time, Rolling Stones/Roadhouse Blues, Jeff Buckley/Hallelujah, Everclear/Santa Monica
book: The Alchemist, Tuesdays with Morrie
number: 11
color: Raspberry
store: J.Crew, the Gap
animal: Orangutan
scent: Orange Blossoms, Fresh Laundry
album: Oasis/WTSMG?, The Beatles/Sgt. Pepper, Rolling Stones/Exile on Main Street
movie soundtrack: Moulin Rouge, Forrest Gump
season: Spring
t-shirt quote: Alana has a tee shirt from Abercrombie that says “incredible view”, and I absolutely LOVE it
holiday: I adore Christmas
school subject: In high school, I loved biology and math
random thing: Old-Standard Jazz music and children’s books, and I'm obsessed with the muppets (especially kermit)
thing to do on the 'net: Read random blogs, learning for fun on encarta.com, playing mah jong with Alana on zone.com
thing to say: “Do you know what I mean?”, “I’m SENsitive!”
car: Audi A4
favorite childhood memory?: being read to by my step dad before bed at night
favorite vacation?: I haven’t been on a lot of vacations, but I always loved going to our family cabin in Manitoba during the summer

this or that_______x
pepsi/coke: Pepsi (unlike my bigamist boyfriend, who chooses not to choose!)
cat/dog: Dog (cats and I have never gotten along)
real/fake: Real … imaginary is good, but I hate the word fake. Calling something fake makes it seem like it’s not valid
lust/love: Love – but lust is infectious and fun
tv/movies: Movies. I don’t really watch a lot of TV
hug/kiss: Hug
love/be loved: Love
night/day: Day
dark/light: Light
hot/cold: I *hate* being cold
silver/gold: Silver
taking pics/pics taken: Taking pics. I always look geeky in photographs
blonde/brunette: Brunette, of course!
good/evil: Good. I don’t know if people would take me seriously if I tried to pull off evil. But naughty, on the other hand...
sweet/sour: Sweet. I always used to make my best friend suck the sour layer off of fuzzy peaches before I ate them (I know, that’s probably really gross)
dl'ing music/buying music: I have a lot of respect for the album in its original form. If I want to check out a song, I’ll download it, but I’d always rather buy
indoors/outdoors: Outdoors. I hate artificiality
left/right: Left. It seems more original
living for the moment/future: I love the idea of the future
cell phone/regular phone: Regular phone. I don’t do technology (okay, okay - I own a cell phone. But there are some times when I would prefer not to be ALWAYS in touch with people)

friendship________x
are you popular? I don’t think popularity really means anything. I have a lot of people in my life that I care about, though
number of close friends? Really, REALLY close? 5 or 6
friend you talk to the most? Steve (does that count?)
friend you see the least? Adam Ford
friend you see the most? Alana (and over the summer, Lisa)
friend who goes to you for advice? Paul
friend who YOU go to for advice? Adam Say, always
ever made out with a friend? Yes. Many, many times. Next question.
best friend: Adam, Alana, Marcus
funniest friend: Jon T
ditziest friend: Nahri, for sure. And I love her for it. Also, Ted – for different reasons
most unfortunate friend: Adam, for being so unfortunately geeky that I can’t help but to love him
smartest friend: Marcus, Alex P
quietest friend: Kevin
loudest friend: Emily, Eip
longest lasting friend: Adam and Stephanie
prettiest friend: Alana!
cutest friend: my dog, Waldo
hottest friend: Steve :D

random__________x
what's the worst memory of your life: When I got lost at the Calgary Stampede at 2 in the morning. Throwing up on the soccer field during the provincial championships. Various memories to do with my dad that are too complicated to get in to
do you have any siblings: A brother, Regan  (20) and two sisters, Jessica  (12) and Hannah (9)
the funniest or most disgusting thing you had to do in a game of truth or dare: Eat a raw potato, start a conversation with a prostitute, skinny dip in a public lake (I REALLY hope my mom doesn’t read this)
do you like your name: No … too ‘80s’
what are your favorite boys/girls names: Avery, Madeleine, Lise / Benjamin, Sebastian, Oliver
when you dream, do you see yourself, or do you see through your own eyes: I see through my own eyes
do you have any phobias: snakes and needles
does glitter make you sick: I occasionally indulge in glitter :D
do you consider yourself to be a very sexual person: I consider myself to be healthy and happy in the sexual department, but I don't think I'm in the extreme range
what kind of shampoo / conditioner do you use: Pantene
what kind of body wash do you use: Oil of Olay
do you consider yourself to be spoiled: No, but sometimes I desperately wish I was, because it seems so much nicer than being scared about money (isn’t that horrible?)
what is your religion? I’m not sure, actually. I haven’t really settled anywhere and I’m not even sure if I want to
are you a big music freak: I love music
do you believe in love at first sight: In a way; I think that when you meet someone that you eventually fall in love with, you instinctively know that there’s something special about them
do you believe love can only happen once in a lifetime: No, and I don’t think that there’s one soul mate for every person. You can love a lot of people in a lot of different ways
do you believe in evolution: Of course – I’m a science girl
is there anything you really hate: Mean girls. I’m so intimidated by them
what are your views on plastic surgery: I think wrinkles and imperfections are what make people beautiful, although I might think differently when I’m 50
what are your views on drugs and alcohol: I don’t like how they make me feel and act, but I’m pretty tolerant in other people; if it doesn’t affect me, I don’t care
are you down with the spongebob craze: I’m REALLY resistant to crazes. I like to find my own thing
do you have any collections: I collect ugly key chains and am so proud of them
name a place you visit often: San Francisco, Calgary
do you think you're hot: I think I’m … nice. And approachable. But not hot, exactly
do you have any piercings: 2 holes in each ear
do you want any piercings: My belly-button, if I get skinny enough
what are your views on piercings: Not very attractive, as a rule
do you have a tattoo: No
do you want one or another one: I was actually giving it serious consideration – I’d want to get a 4-leaf clover somewhere discreet. It’s cool to think that your body is different than anyone one else’s because of a tattoo. The originality factor is great
share a few words of wisdom?: seek first to understand. If you can choose calm, be calm. If you can choose love, do so.
how often do you spend time online: I’m online whenever I’m bored and feel like bumming around. And since I’m in a long distance relationship, msn is our lifeblood
do you get along with your parents: My mom is my closest ally, and I’m starting to get to know my dad better, after a rough time when I was younger
how was your childhood: Average – ups and downs, but I was generally happy and involved
pets?: Dog (Waldo) and a boyfriend named Steve :P
feeling on politics: I waiver between right and left wing, depending on the issue
like hippies?: Love ’em
like thugs?: Don’t understand ‘em
like Punk rockers?: Real, genuine punk rockers (think NOT Avril) I have a lot of respect for. Pesudo-punks get on my nerves
like hXcers?: Whaaa?
like metal heads?: I’m a bit scared of them, but they always turn out to be really nice
like ravers?: Ravers are SO much cooler than I’ll ever be
like posers: Who likes posers? Nobody, I don’t think.
like goths: Nah – I can’t take them seriously
like hicks?: No, but they are generally the butt of my jokes with my ex-boyfriend, who lives in Tennessee
like racist people: No ... and I also don't like koreans ;)
like preps: Not ones that don’t seem comfortable with it
are you a virgin: No. Definitely not.
how's the weather?: Warm, but my office air-conditioning makes me feel like it’s a balmy 12 degrees below, day in and day out
do you like living: of course I do!
what do you want to be: a mother, a wife, a contributor, a listener, a friend, a role model
how was your day: I was awoken by the always pleasant boyfriend, sternly commanding “Heed, wake up” – so, it was usual. Thanks for asking.
what are you wearing: Office outfit – green skirt, white hoodie, white tank top
doing anything later: Sleeping, hopefully
tomorrow?: More of the same. Work is nothing if not monotonous
ever try to commit suicide: No

have you ever _______x
been in love? I've been in love, real love, twice (happily, one of these relationships is still going very, very strong)
kissed the same sex? Sure. More times than I care to admit, actually
seen your favorite band live? Some of them yes, some of them I’m still waiting on (or hoping that John Lennon will come out of hiding, and say “gotcha!”)
taken any kind of lessons? Piano, swimming, gymnastics, public speaking, soccer, art, dance, theatre
won any contests? No, but I obsessively enter any contest that I come across
cussed out your mom/dad? I called my mom a bitch yesterday, in response to her calling me a little fucker. I assume this counts
looked at the stars with a loved one? Yeah - we watched a meteor shower together, it was wild
wanted to kill someone? Only once, and I probably shouldn’t talk about it :P
hated someone? Hate is a pretty strong word
cheated on someone? Emotionally, I’ve cared about two people at once.

one, neither, or both____x
mom or dad: Mom
girl or boy: Boy!
gun or knife: neither
deaf or blind: neither, obviously
penis or vagina: :D
eyes or toes: Toes!
tongue or lip rings: Yuck
nipple or nose rings: A nose stud looks really good on some girls, but for me - neither
green or blue eyes: Blue
punk or thug: Punk!
date same or opposite sex: Opposite

first thing that comes to mind__x
fish: guts
fat: Rosie O’Donnell (Sorry, Rosie)
roast Beef: Arbys!
school: Excited
asshole: DEnnis Leary
poser: High School
slut: Sexy, in some circumstances
funk: Rhythm
drums: Animal from the muppets
dead: Poets Society
president Bush: Chimpanzee
America: Garbage
cactus: Arizona
peach: Pie

Me, my wrist and I

When I was in grade 11, I took an awkward fall during a soccer game and jammed my right wrist as I fell back on it. Not thinking too much about the injury, I taped it up and continued playing. A few weeks later, I noticed that I had a hard time playing badminton in gym class. One year after the fall, I still wasn't able to ride a bike because putting pressure on the palm of my hand caused a really awful pain sort of like hitting my funny bone. Now, 5 years later, I can't ride a bike, do pushups or play racket sports. And it finally occured to me today as I was inspecting my wrists and realizing that there was a bone sticking out of my right one that wasn't at all visible in my left, that I should make an appointment with my doctor while I'm in BC to see what's wrong.

After a bit of sleuthing on the mayo clinic's website, I matched my symptoms (to the last detail) to a scaphoid fracture, after reading the following:

"Many sports-related injuries to the upper extremity involve a fall onto an outstretched arm. The navicular or scaphoid is a small, kidney bean-shaped bone located in the wrist just below the thumb which may be fractured during such a fall. The athlete frequently treats the injury as a sprain or bruise. A fracture results in an interruption of the blood supply and, later, bone death or necrosis."

Yikes. Looks like my summer of swimming might be cut short. Or, alternately, I could just ignore the pain and pretend I didn't realize that something might be wrong. I'll update after my doctor's appointment - for now, I need sleep, and the morning wake up from the disgruntled boyfriend (who is demanding a SALARY for being my alarm clock on week days) comes in less than 7 hours.