The Musings of Me

You are Here. I am Not. :) I am now somewhere else. Again.

2011-10-20T11:53:00.000-05:00

So, seriously, I've made yet another blog. Every now and then I feel like I need a "fresh start", especially when I feel like I'm just in a different place in my life.

If you'd care to join me there (at the new blog address OR in that different place in my life) - Click here.

Cheers.

Welcome Joshua David Thiessen, and a new stage in my life!

2010-04-20T17:49:00.003-05:00

Joshua David Thiessen, born April 6, 2010, at 10:45pm.

Since his wonderful arrival ushers in a new stage in my life (Mom to 2 kids and, for at least a 16 months, a stay-at-home one at that) - I'm starting a new blog. You're welcome to join me there!

Know who gives me the creeps?

2010-04-01T23:40:00.005-05:00

So, no baby yet. On an unrelated topic:

Know who gives me the creeps? Here are my top 5 famous creepsters.

5) Tom Cruise - Okay, I know he's old news by this point, but with a recent movie coming out ("Knight and Day"), which looks like it may just be pretty entertaining, I can't help but think about how my feelings have changed towards this prolific actor. Aside from loving his acting style and choice of varied roles, I admit - I used to think he was an incredibly beautiful man. What turned me off, you wonder? Well, part of it may be his extreme involvement with the whole "secret society of Scientology" thing. It's not that I'm knocking his religious beliefs - it's just - well - I can't quite put my finger on it - it just seems so bizarre, how the rich and fabulous Scientology crew talk about/don't quite talk about how the whole thing works and is connected. But the Scientology is only a tiny part of Tom's creeping-me-out factor. I mean, the world is made up of so many different belief factors - I'm pretty sure it's not a huge deal. No, the real ewwww of Mr. Cruise is his relationship with the much younger Katie Holmes. It's not their age that's the issue, I don't think. I'm not bothered by age discrepancies in general. I mean, I've found my fair share of older men devastatingly attractive - and some slightly younger men too, I admit. No, what's gross is the fact that she used to idolize him when she was a little girl. "I think every little girl dreams about [her wedding]. I used to think I was going to marry Tom Cruise." (Holmes in 2004 - BEFORE dating and marrying Tom Cruise). She also said something one time about how she used to have a poster up on her wall of him. And now she's his wife. Hmmm... I don't know - that's just kind of gross to me.

4) Speaking of men I used to find beautiful, I can't help but add Mel Gibson to my list of the creepydeepy famous. I used to love this actor for, like Cruise, his acting and looks :) - but now, he kind of makes my skin crawl. And it has nothing to do with his religious beliefs or the movie "The Passion", which is when the media first turned on him. No, I loved that movie and the fact that he had conviction - and I really didn't find it the least bit antisemitic. HOWEVER, I did find his later antisemitic drunken tirade - well - antisemitic - and wholly unappealing. And THEN... then... well, then he divorced his wife of 30 years, of whom he had 7 children with, and now lives with his younger girlfriend (albeit not any 26 year old Katie Holmes - This girlfriend is only 14 years younger than Gibson), and the two now have a baby. (How sweet). The man is 53 years old, people, and has grandchildren.

3) Tiger Woods/Jesse James: These two douches - one a classy pro-golfer and the other a famous but crass car-guy - are interchangeable to me. Do I need to elaborate? Not only did they cheat (nothing new, nothing shocking, nothing uncommon), but... BUT... they cheated on their very beautiful wives fairly early on in their marriages, with NUMEROUS women. Not only that, but numerous SLEEZY women. And brought whatever diseases and/or nasty germs home to their faithful spouses. Can I get an "EWWWW" here? (Oh - and Tiger's apology - gross.) Seriously, Tiger/Jesse, good choice on the girls there. I mean, besides being super trashy, they also happily sold you out to the media. Nice work. Men.

2) John Mayer: Where to start? What a creep. Besides the whole porn thing, his sleazy comments about his ex-girlfriends, his bragging about his sexual prowess, his attitude towards women in general - suddenly, hearing his voice on the radio crooning "your body is a wonderland" triggers my gag reflexes.

1) Justin Bieber: The young Mr. Bieber - with no public religious statements dogging him, no racist rants, no reports of gross infidelity, no divorces under his belt (the boy's 16 years old) - may seem like an odd choice for my #1 creepy celebrity. But here's the thing. The kid's 16 years old, barely hit puberty, I suspect (not to be mean, but the boy's singing, while very pretty, sounds similar in pitch to his female colleagues), was born in 1994 for crying out loud - and yet seems to be being marketed as some kind of sex symbol (shudders). Not that it's his fault, I suppose. But nevertheless.

There you have it - my 5 top creepsters. True, I don't really KNOW these men, and perhaps if I did, I wouldn't be so quick to cringe every time I see their name in the popular media. But, things being as they are - well, there you have it. Now, to go to bed and dream of far less disappointing famous celebrities. Like... well.. like... like... I'm drawing a blank here.

My McDonalds

2010-03-29T22:22:00.002-05:00

You know what's not so much fun as it used to be? Lunch from McDonald's. I used to love that place - seriously. I did. I'd have an "All Canadian Meal" any time I didn't have time to pack a lunch in the morning. For those unfamiliar with the name-gimmick, this is similar (or identical) to an "All American Meal" at the McDonald's in the States: a cheese burger, a small fry, and a small fountain drink (in my case, a coke). Then, life got extra busy, and sometimes I'd have supper from Micky-Ds too: Often in the form of a satisfying McChicken meal. If I was feeling healthful, I'd substitute the fries (in either of the meals) for apple slices.

Now, when I'm forced to eat there, I regret every last greasy, over-salted bite. For some reason, the passion in my McDonald's relationship is just gone. Maybe it's because husband - due to high cholesterol - has needed to eat healthier, causing the whole family to follow - and so my taste buds are simply out of junk-food-eating-practice... Maybe it's because I'm so aware of making sure my toddler limits her intake of crap like that, I've become more aware of what I'm taking into my body. Maybe something about the menu has changed. Maybe it's the pregnancy.

Who knows. But I've been realizing, much to my surprise, that I absolutely hate that place. And the sad thing is: My toddler now loves it. But the silver lining? All she wants from there are apple slices, milk, and a toy. And as a ridiculously busy mom - I consider that a definite win.

If I could control my immediate universe...

2010-03-24T09:58:00.007-05:00

So, on my usual commute to work this morning, I encountered a number of sigh-inducing occurrences, which caused me to wish I had more control over things I have little to no control over.

This morning, if I could control my immediate universe...

1) I would have awoken this morning to a bright, warm, sunny spring day rather than peering out of my window at dismal gray skies over a blanket of white snow.

2) My car would NOT be invisible to any drivers.

3) Ordering water with "extra-extra ice - like, a LOT of ice" would result in water with lots of ice, rather than a cup of luke-warm water with a few pieces pieces of ice floating sadly at the top.

4) "Extra whipped cream" would be completely calorie free and be served on every coffee beverage from Starbucks, WITHOUT the raised, judgemental eye-browns from the skinny barista behind the counter.

5) My bank account would not be empty (due to an earlier unforeseen flat tire - curse you, random nail! - and my general inability to do simple math) -

6) Clinique would have their bonus time NOW so I could buy the correct foundation, instead of using my current colour, which doesn't quite match my skin tone, in the powder form, which isn't so great on dry skin (looks like - uh - powder). Not that I COULD buy the correct foundation anyway at the moment (see 5).

7) Avon nail polish "Speed Dry!" - would last more than 8 hours without beginning to flake off. Or how about not flake off at all?

8) Time would stand still for - say - about 4 hours, so I would a) not be late for work and b) have some time to get stuff done when I get there and c) sneak in a nap in the staffroom.

9) My car's exterior would stay clean for more than 2 days.

10) Did I mention that it would be a bright, warm, sunny spring day? Oh, I did? Then how about this one: that I could go for more than 30 minutes without having a make a mad dash for the washroom. I'd like that. (Baby's due in 10 days - can I add that I'd like he or she to be on time or, maybe, mmmm... 4 days early? That would be awesome.)

Here and Now

2010-03-20T00:43:00.003-05:00

Sometimes I wish consistently living in the present was easier for me. Often, I find myself getting caught up living in the past - wishing I was still there or, conversely, fighting memories of regrets or past hurts or lost friendships. Other times, I find myself living for the future - what will the next stage of life be, how can I accomplish the new goals I've set for myself, what educational decisions will I make for my children? But I forget to be fully in my present.

I mean, memories are an important part of who I am, sure, and goals and plans are great. But some nights I look back on my day and wonder why I didn't just enjoy being there more. Rather than planning or worrying, why am I not just soaking in the gift of each day?

I keep talking to my daughter about Spring - how we'll go for walks and play in the park - and I wonder if I'm taking away from our present NOW time. I wonder if I'm fostering in her that annoying trait of "tomorrow" mentality that I am often caught in myself. I can see already - now I'm talking about spring, in spring I will be looking forward to the beach and camping season of summer, and when summer rolls around, we'll have images of the changing leaves of fall - and in fall, the excitement for the first snow and the glow of Christmas. It's what I do - but I'd like to do less of it. I'm just not sure how to go about changing the way I see time here.

I do love my present, despite the imperfections of life. I love the warming season, the time spent reading to my daughter and tucking her in, the simple marking dates with my husband (we're both teachers), and the final weeks at my school with my students. I love the now - but I have trouble keeping it in focus when I'm so distracted by the "then" and the "and then". I wonder how someone goes about changing their focus. Or if most of us are living in some other time than the present.

Ever been nine months pregnant...

2010-03-18T14:44:00.002-05:00

...well, 38 weeks? That's me right now. Feeling as big as a planet. My first pregnancy - I loved every minute of it, despite being sick, terrified, and in physical agony. I would throw up and come out grinning, pronouncing how much I loved being pregnant. And I really did. Rachel was my little miracle baby. I'd spent too long envying baby-makers and (in spite of myself) despising women who complained about their pregnancies. When I finally had my chance - looooved it. Loved my shape, loved the clothes, loved the expectant feeling - loved, like I said - even the discomforts. It was when I first realized that anyone who has ever carried a baby and really thought about it can't truly deny the existence of God.

Now, baby two. Still a miracle, a wonder, a testament to God's workmanship. But.

Nothing fits me decently, nor has for the duration of this pregnancy. I was showing after 9 weeks. Recently, though, I found out that until last month some people thought I'd just put on a whole lot of weight. I have put on a lot of weight, by the way. I can't focus on anything. I'm constantly sick to my stomach and have been throughout this entire pregnancy - without that new, excited wonderment that sustained me during the first one. Right now, as I sit at my desk in the classroom I teach in, I am resisting the urge to throw up. I've also been exhausted for the past 36 weeks, and I'm planning to teach up until next Friday, the week before I'm due - which is April 3rd, if you're counting. My whole body hurts, and I've been waking up with cramps in my calves the like I've never even imagined. (Actually, I think I experienced them during the first pregnancy, but again, it was coloured by this sense of wonderment I had back then.) Nothing tastes good to me. I'm out of breath simply walking from one room to the next - never mind trying to carry on a conversation! I have a ton of stuff to do at work still, but no energy or focus to do it with. Oh, and I'm terrified about the delivery.

My personal life is a bit of a confusion lately too, which has made me feel, I think, sicker and tireder (can I use those words?) - although I'm learning to not trust my own understanding and to trust that there is a plan - and that I can only be responsible for my own actions - and that in itself is really important, I think.

On the bright side, I AM really excited about this baby, miracle baby number 2 - even though we're not as ready this time around (no nursery or cradle set up yet. - but we do have a car seat!)

I know this baby is an indescribable gift, and am so thankful to be able to have he or she. Rachel is excited to be a big sister, and I'm excited to give her a sibling.

Nevertheless, though, I don't know quite what I'll do if my water breaks while I'm teaching.

... I found this...

2009-11-06T10:55:00.005-06:00

So, I was trying to find an amusing but appropriate comic to put on my Print Communications test (I'm THAT dedicated)... and I found this timely comic on toothpaste for dinner.

It didn't work for my test, but it did seem appropriate to post here. :)

Tim Horton's tease!

2009-10-05T08:46:00.006-05:00

So, this morning I had lemon spread on toast - a new taste experience for me. I commented to Zig afterwards that it was okay, but it made me want lemon meringue pie. Zig said it made HIM want a lemon filled donut.

Mmmm. That DID sound good. Already tasting the anticipated sweet treat from Tim Hortons, which I immediately promised myself for on the way to work, I stopped when Zig also commented that they have a new pumpkin spice muffin there - infused with cream cheese.

Mmmm. Cream cheese pumpkin spice muffin sounded just as good. Maybe better? Well, would have to choose just one. I decided I would go IN rather than drive through, in order to look at my two options.

THEN, on my way to work, I heard a Tim Horton's commercial reminding me about this new pumpkin season - adding that they have a pumpkin spice DONUT, which goes, they exclaimed convincingly, just perfectly with a medium coffee.

Mmmmmmm. Well, now I would have THREE delicious options to chose from.

So, I drove my 40 minutes to work, and made it just in enough time to swing by the nearby T.H. I couldn't wait to peruse my options and make a choice. To my dismay, their racks were FULL... except for the two empty trays with the lie below, "Try our NEW Pumpkin Spice Donut" and "Try our NEW Pumpkin Spice Muffin". I couldn't believe it. There wasn't a crumb in there, which made me suspect they had never had any out in the first place. Cruel fate. OR bakers.

With a sigh, I resigned myself to the lemon selection - at least it made my choice a little easier. EXCEPT... THERE WERE NO LEMON DONUTS EITHER!!! In fact, there wasn't even space for them. I asked, to make sure. The woman behind the counter, (who had absolutely no expression on her face or in her voice) simply re-read the only cream-filled options, "strawberry and blueberry".

I left empty handed. There's a second Tim's in town here, and I'm already plotting my trek there during my break.

Breakfast Foods

2009-10-02T08:44:00.002-05:00

So, I've always had a dysfunctional relationship with breakfast. I mean, I LIKE breakfast, but it always creates problems.

For instance - people insist it is important for an efficient metabolism. While that may be true, if I SKIP breakfast, I'm not even hungry until lunch. But when I eat breakfast, I'm STARVING by 10:00. This makes me, of course, not only eat breakfast, but also snack. Again, people say snacks are great - but I think it all depends on the type of snack you have... and let's just say my snack choices are not always healthy ones.

Nevertheless, I don't skip breakfast anymore. I tend to be swayed by leading thoughts on health, so I dutifully make time in my busy morning to eat. But this brings other problems.

First of all, I like cereal in the morning. But for some reason, cereal (maybe the milk, maybe some other ingredients) makes me feel a little sick afterwards. This makes me eat MORE food to try to quell the sick feeling, leaving me MORE sick because on top of the cereal and milk, I've eaten too much...

Also, I'm supposed to be eating low glycemic foods and making healthful choices. This means whole grains and less sugars. These days - Bleeech. No thanks. So I've been having Cinnamon Toast Crunch instead, every morning. Mmmm. (But like all breakfast cereals, it leaves me a little sick - so I usually try to balance the unhealthy CTC with an orange afterwards.)

Today, though, I tried to go a healthier route, and selected a whole-grain muesli cereal from my cupboard. It also had raisins, cranberries, rice, oats, almonds, and lots and lots of fiber. Healthy! Too healthy. I followed that healthy choice with some Nacho Cheese Doritos. Then, more of them.

Breakfast is my enemy. Well, breakfast and my lack of self control, I suppose.

Anticipation -

2009-09-27T19:50:00.002-05:00

The husband made this video today, but it said exactly what I wanted to post about today, so I copied it and placed it here. Enjoy!

Time Flies

2009-09-26T22:11:00.009-05:00

Time flies by when you're having fun. And I am having fun - so I wish it wouldn't.

My daughter Rachel is no longer a little baby. While she'll always be MY baby, in reality, the truth is she's a toddler now. A sweet, funny, smart, active, totally wonderful toddler. And I love this stage - LOVE it. But as the husband pointed out the other day, now that she's two, she has completed 10% on her journey to 20 years old. Wow. Time REALLY flies.

But right now, we're having fun with our little toddler. For instance, she's potty training - which is way more cute than I thought it would be. She's had FOUR dry days in a row so far - wearing diapers only for naps and night. :) And she's highly insulted if you try to put diapers on her when it's not nap time. And she had her first pony ride and her first hay ride (the best part for her was getting pulled by the tractor). She plays imaginary games and makes us pretend tea. She says Mommy is her best friend - but then adds that Daddy is her friend too, and then says that we're all best friends. She sings songs and hums tunes and tells stories about her day. Every single day with my little girl is a gift. But sometimes I wish time would just slow down a little and let me savour it a little longer.

Then again, I hear every stage is equally wonderful. I hope it's true, because I'm sure having fun.

Email Housecleaning

2009-09-26T10:00:00.000-05:00

So, I finally emptied my email again. I had 406 new messages and something like 508 in total. The "new" messages were all ones that I had looked at... For each of these, I had read the subject line and mentally dealt with the email... but I hadn't actually opened it or - obviously - deleted it. But, tonight, after months of harassment by the husband, I finally did it. The emails I wanted to keep for-ev-er, I put into folders. Then, I ruthlessly deleted everything else. But I read each subject line first, to make sure I wasn't deleting GOLD.

It still felt a little sad... and so final. But now... now, my inbox is completely empty. Ready to be filled up again. I can't wait! :)

The Great Shoe Dilemma

2009-09-23T22:00:00.000-05:00

So, no women at my work really wear heels. They just don't. And I can get that. I mean, in a school setting, they're not terribly practical (Not that they'd be practical anywhere, I suppose).

But I'm a heels girl, myself. I wear heels for a few reasons. The first is because Zig likes heels. He does. He doesn't dictate my footwear, but he does have his preferences - and I do aim to please. :) Another reason is because I'm fairly short, and heels add some height. Also, most women know that heels do very nice things to a girl's calves (keeping them in shapely flex). I've also been wearing heels since I was fifteen, although back it the day, it was chunky heels, then wedges. Only recently have I moved into a skinnier heel.

I have, however, been beginning to question how long I can continue my relationship with the high heel.

I mean, I have to be honest here. They are not overly comfortable. I don't care how deluxe the high heel is, when your foot is at an unnatural angle, you're not going to be walking on clouds. And I don't spend the money on deluxe high heels anyway - I max out at $60. And let me tell you - my feet hate me for it.

Also, the high heels slow me down when I'm trying to book it from my classroom to the photocopier across the school. And they're far from stealthy. Try sneaking up chatters and skippers, and the rhythmic "clip-clop-clip-clop" gives me away every time. Not to mention the break in focus when I'm walking around the class to help students at their desks. So - in short - my high heel shoes are are uncomfortable, inconvenient, and disruptive.

Why not flats, you ask? Well, here's my problem. I don't' like flats. I hate my gait and my profile when I'm in non-heels. They make me feel less feminine, less professional, and less... well... less happy, generally.

I asked the husband if any women at his school (he's a teacher too) wear heels, and he said that many female teachers do - maybe even most of them! But in my school, I feel like an abnormality. And a vain one at that!

So - I'm torn with indecision. Do I wear the heels for the gait, the vanity, and the inner satisfaction, or do I make the practical decision and move to those "work shoes" sitting in my closet, promising happier feet, better mobility, and a quieter classroom?

(Sigh). Sometimes it's hard being a women.

I told a lie. A big one. But it was an accident - so it doesn't count, right?

2009-09-21T20:38:00.005-05:00

Uug. I'm getting as bad as those OTHER bloggers who never actually blog. School has, of course, been busy, but that's not really an excuse. Just lazy, I suppose. I even had ideas and inspirations. But - no follow through. Anyway, something interesting...something interesting...

Okay, here's something: Did you know wasps don't sting, only bite? No, you didn't know that? That's because it's NOT TRUE. At least, not according to every site I can find on the topic this evening.

But here's what happened: these 2 Science teachers at my school told me it was - insisted that only bees sting, and wasps only BITE. When they told me this, I was SHOCKED. FLOORED. So I asked, more than once, "Are you sure?" They were. I clarified: "So if I tell other people this, I won't be wrong?" They said I wouldn't.

So I spread this fact. Oh, I told people. Many people. This was earth-shattering. EARTH SHATTERING.

And those people believed me. Little innocents... how could they know I was setting them up for future humiliation, as they continue to spread my misinformation. But why wouldn't they believe me, when I was so sure of this new, groundbreaking knowledge? Wasps don't sting - just bite!

Of course, I should have told the husband first. He never believes anything I say. Not that he thinks I'm lying (I'm the world's worst liar!) - no, he never believes anything I say because he knows that, quite often, I may just be wrong. Especially when I'm telling him a "scientific fact". So, when I finally told my husband the new truth about the non-stinging, only biting wasps, he wrinkled his nose at me, cocked his head, and said (without a question-mark), "Really." I told him that it was a scientific fact - that I had it on the best authority. Again, deadpan, he asked, "Who." I told him. He shook his head, as if that was all he needed to know. "Let's look it up" he said.

We did. We searched the Internet for evidence that I may be right. For once. But, much to my chagrin and his expectations, there was no evidence to support their claim, except a modest concession - as far as we can tell, male wasps do not sting. Great.

So if you hear a rumour that no wasps sting - only bite - just think: there's a good chance that it came from me.

This and That

2009-08-20T10:07:00.003-05:00

It's grey again this morning. I'm pretty sure I could count the really nice days we've had this summer on one hand - MAYBE two hands, at the most. It's been a little disappointing. On the bright side, I've gotten lots of planning done for next year. I've also been making the most of every slightly sunny day we've had. And I've seen some movies - although I'm not really sure I could consider that a good thing, since most of them were pretty lame.

And you know why I haven't been writing in my blog, folks? I've seriously had nothing to say. Nadda. Just the usual stuff, I guess - Rachel is cute, and seriously talking -the doc asked us if she had 50 words in her vocab? HA! 100 is more like it - she's talking in 9 word sentences. My daughter is sooo brilliant :).

Zig is cute too, but we've been having a standard argument these days: sound vs. silence. He likes to be surrounded with sound: Music while we eat, tv while he naps, the buzz of the fan or the speakers at night. Not so me. Don't get me wrong - I like music. But not at the dinner table, when we're enjoying food and family. And any time I'm sleeping - napping or night - I like complete darkness and utter silence. If there's a speaker buzzing from across the room or the fan from the downstairs bathroom, I can hear it - and can't sleep until it's silenced. And once it is - ahhh, what rest and peace follows! There seems to be no middle ground though. I'm sure Zig would like to sleep with every fan, speaker, stereo, and TV on in the whole house!! :)

Anyway, the dog is good, the house is messy but not out of control, I'm sick but still healthy, and life is comfortably busy and yet not busy with anything of great importance or pressing deadlines. Things are, in summation, good.

So now, I'm off to brew myself some tea, settle into bed with my laptop, and make some handouts while watching tv. And I'm going to pretend I'm on the beach.

Parenting FAIL

2009-07-30T09:05:00.000-05:00

So, I was driving my almost-two-year old daughter home from some errand a couple of weeks ago, and, as my luck would have it, she wasn't in the mood to be driven anywhere. After the fifth time of hearing her plaintive, melancholy little voice from the back pipe up, "Mommy! I'm all done now. I want to get out!", I decided I'd have to do SOMETHING. Since the husband and I were doing an "unplugged" week at the time, I did not have the option of radio (Especially since he'd decided to ensure I didn't cheat by removing my stereo faceplate!).

SO...I tried singing. I started with the classic favourites - BINGO, Jack-and-Jill, 5 Little Ducks, He's got the Whole World in His Hands... but she wasn't in the mood for any of them this time. Every time I'd start a new one, her voice would get louder, and she'd tell me sternly, "NO MOMMY! NO!" -

So, at the end of my rope, I sang the only other song I could think of: Rusted from the Rain - by Billy Talent. Billy Talent, for those of you who don't know, are a punk rock band, and Rusted from the Rain is their newest, fairly dark, single. The chorus goes like this:

Go'on, crush me like a flower
Rusted from the rain.
C'mon strip me of my power
Beat me with my chains.
And if I'm the King of cowards,
You're the Queen of pain.
I'm rusted from the rain.
I'm rusted from the rain.

(Then I verbally did the guitar part)

Well, Rachel loved it, I was relieved, and so we made it home without a mental meltdown.

BUT - now this song has made it into her regular request list. She asks for "The Pain Song."

Oops.

And today, the song came on the radio. To my amazement and dismay, when the chorus came on, SHE SUNG ALONG. Like, with all the correct words. WHAT???

Let me tell you, it is highly disturbing to hear a two-year-old, in her tiny little voice, sing the words to this song. Especially my two year old. Especially since I TAUGHT HER THEM.

Fail.

In case you're curious, here are the lyrics to the rest of this wholesome song:

Rusted From the Rain (Billy Talent)
I stumble through the wreckage,
Rusted from the rain.
There's nothing left to salvage,
No one left to blame.
Among the broken mirrors,
I don't look the same.
I'm rusted from the rain.
I'm rusted from the rain.

Dissect me 'til me blood runs
Down into the drain.
My bitter heart is pumping
Oil into my veins.
I'm nothing but a tin man,
Don't feel any pain.
I don't feel any pain.
I don't feel any pain.
I'm rusted from the rain.

Go on, crush me like a flower
Rusted from the rain.
C'mon strip me of my power
Beat me with my chains.
And if I'm the King of cowards,
You're the Queen of pain.
I'm rusted from the rain.
I'm rusted from the rain.

You hung me like a picture,
Now I'm just a frame.
I used to be your lap dog,
Now I'm just a stray.
Shackled in the graveyard,
Left here to decay.
Left here to decay.
Left here to decay.

I'm rusted from the rain.

(Chorus, etc.)

Oh, the sun will shine again.
I'm rusted from the rain.
I'm rusted from the rain.
Oh, the sun will shine again.
I'm rusted from the rain.

Irritating Pretenses

2009-07-28T11:25:00.004-05:00

So, here's something you may not know: I can be cynical. Like, seriously cynical. Especially about people.

Okay, for the record, I embrace the many flaws of those fellow human being who inhabit this planet with me. I'm not generally a critical person: I'm okay with late people (being one myself), messy people (again, that's me), and neurotic people (check!). I'm also okay with people who show up early, who are obsessively neat, and who are boringly grounded. I'm okay with the fact that people lie ALL THE TIME and that some people are pretty good at it. (Not that I'm not disappointed when I realize I've been lied too - I am - but I also just accept it as part of who they are). I've become okay even with gossipers, although I try not to partake. Conceited? That's okay - you're beautiful! Unbelievably low self-esteem? Well, that's okay too - I'll try to build you up the best I can. Selfish? Well, who isn't at times. We're all flawed. Seriously damaged in various ways. And if we can't accept other people's flaws, how can we expect them to accept ours?

BUT, while I may accept the flaws, sometimes I can't help but roll my eyes at people who present such a carefully constructed image to the people around them. (In "real life" or in the bloggerverse). I think it's the pretenses that get to me.

For instance: Women who are constantly sexualizing themselves while pretending to simply be talking about their day. ("Then, I peeled off my clothes and took a long, hot shower. My soft skin felt so good to be silky clean"). Or people who talk about their firm muscles or shapely bodies or fantastic skills in the bedroom. Not that I have a problem with that - it's your conversation - talk about what you like - but stop pretending you simply like adjectives!!

Or women who are always complaining about men hitting on them (especially when they clearly don't get hit on as much as they make it seem). It makes me wonder- are you complaining about being hit on, or are you highlighting just how desirable you are?

Or people who paint themselves as so sweet, so nice, so darned innocent when I so KNOW they aren't.

I feel like telling them - listen, give it up already. You're totally transparent. But it's not true, because actually, they're not transparent. They can't be - because everyone around them seems to buy into whatever ridiculous picture of themselves they are painting. Are people really that naive?

(insert sigh here). Of course they are. Also, people are generally supportive - so even if they see through someone's pretenses, they don't acknowledge it. Which is nice, I suppose. You know, because I guess being full of - er - it - is a flaw too, and if I claim to be accepting of people's flaws, I should accept that one too. Or maybe I'm just too flawed to do it.

I don't know. But I'll tell you what I DO know. I DO know that I sure don't like cleaning my bedroom. Which is why I'm down here writing a blog about pretenses. But, I mean, it was a good one, right? Now I better go soak my long, soft, slender, fingers.

(Just kidding - I totally have kids' hands).

Peace out, people.

Toilet mirrors

2009-07-19T21:11:00.002-05:00

You know what I think is a bad idea? Mirrors positioned right by toilets. I've been noticing lately that in nice bathrooms, it seems to be trendy to have these beautiful mirrors behind, beside, or - worst of all - directly across from - the toilet.

Does this seem like a good idea to the designers? Really?

Here's the thing - I don't really want to see myself going to the washroom. It's not a body image thing. It's just ... I don't really want to see anyone (myself included) dropping their pants and sitting on the can - it's just, well, just undignified. And when you have a mirror directly in front of the toilet, unless you close your eyes (which could tricky, I suspect), it's unavoidable. (Even when the mirror is positioned behind or beside - well, you still get an unflattering glimpse).

Maybe it's just my repressed North American personality, but I don't like it. Perhaps some people do. People who put their mirrors across from their toilets. Or maybe they just didn't really plan ahead. Or maybe they pee in the dark?

Passing time

2009-07-11T18:22:00.009-05:00

So, it's been a great summer so far. Keeping happily busy. We've done playdates, beach days, pool trips. We've gone for walks, visited friends, walked the zoo, hung out at home in various states of undress. We've even had a few working dates (Zig doing freelance and me learning a program I'm teaching next year). So, it's been grand.

It's also been a bit of a sad summer, watching my little girl meet milestones I'm not quite ready for her to meet. I've had to pack away her little baby clothes, and although we're having such fun with her at this stage (I often say it's my favourite) it makes me kinda sad to see her "growing up" - time is just moving too quickly. She'll be 2 in August, and she's started talking in sentences (At this moment, she's sitting in her booster seat telling me "Right now I want to go have a bath-tub!" - Now, getting distracted, she's holding up her foot to me and asking, "Mommy, what's on my toe? What's on my toe?" looking at the food crumbs - "It's poopy on my toes!") She's also begun to occasionally ask to use - and successfully go in - her potty. And today... today we had to move her to a toddler bed (there was a recall on the crib she was using - a serious safety issue, so we figured we'd make the move now rather than risk any more time in the crib). And on Monday she's going for her first haircut. Sigh.

Watching her getting older also, of course, reminds me that I'm getting older too. ( Well, that and the lines around my eyes. :) ) But I'm okay with that, as long as I get to age with the people I love.

Life Lessons from a Rock Festival

2009-06-29T08:00:00.003-05:00

1) Things that seem like a cool idea can get you killed

So, I almost died last week. No, really. Seriously. I was at this Rock Festival. Close to the end of the night, Rise Against (a punk band I like) was going to be up on the mainstage, and since I've been diggin a lot of their new stuff (pretty powerful), I thought it would be a good idea to go right up front and wait for them to start. So, here I was, floor level, 3 rows from the center stage - around me were throngs of people, standing in breathless anticipation and talking about how crazy it was going to get. I was a big talker. THEN, the band begins. Crazy does not begin to describe what happened. Suddenly, the crowd from the back begins to push forward - aggressively, relentlessly - but since there is nowhere for them to go, the weight of their bodies is as one against the bodies in front of them... and I realize that I can't breathe. Not because I am claustrophobic - I'm not. Not because the moshing was wild -I can handle wild. No, simply because their bodies were actually crushing my chest. And I physically found my breaths become shallow and gasping, because the force of the people against me was too strong. I tried pushing back - not even a dent, and it seemed if I managed keep them at arms length for a second, the mass would become even heavier as it rebounded. I tried ducking down - quickly realized this is even worse as I fought my way up from the ground. Tried yelling for help, getting out in any direction. No luck. Finally, as I began to get dizzy and feeling completely out of hope, I let myself simply fall. Just - go limp. I don't know what I was thinking - maybe I wasn't thinking - but suddenly a beautiful stranger's voice called out - "someone help her, she's fainting!" I wasn't fainting - well, I don't think I was, anyway, since I heard her calling that - but I was pretty close to it - and although the crowd didn't part to let me out, another pair of strangers' hands were suddenly holding me up, moving me, slowly but surely, away from the crush of bodies. They couldn't get me far - indeed, if I had fainted, I don't know what they would have done with me - but they moved me along far enough that I was able to see a break in the crowd and make my escape.

I also lost my left shoe. :(

2) Tall people really DO live the sweet life

I've always enjoyed being short. I mean, I'm not tiny (5' 2"), but small enough. And it comes in handy. You can sneak through small spaces, buy "petite" pants, and feel little. BUT, during the final concert, As Billy Talent took the stage, I had a brief glimpse into the world as a tall person - and what a world it is.

I was enjoying my view (at a safer distance now) from the floor level, looking through the gaps in the heads at Ben Kowalewicz (the lead singer), who I could see, at times, from the waist up. If I got the angle right, it was pretty good, I thought. And in fact, this is how I always see concerts if we're at floor level.

But then, Zig hoisted me up, holding me at his level for a while, and suddenly - the world was brighter. Literally. There's seriously more light up there!! And I could see the stage!! Completely! The band was right there in front of me. And I could suddenly see the whole sea of people - simply beautiful. Turns out there ARE advantages to being tall after all. I had no idea you guys had that kind of view!!

3) You will be killed if you cut in line in the girl's washroom.

Killed. Even. if. it's. an. accident.

4) Cheap shirts and rock festivals don't mix

It seemed like a good idea at the time, when I was selecting my outfit for this event. I wore a sweatshirt at first, but when it got hot, I took off my sweatshirt and hung out in this cute purple shirt with a white tank top underneath. However, due to the rain and the press of bodies, by the end of the night, every time I'd be jumping with the crowd, one shoulder of the shirt would promptly fall off, pulling the tank with it, leaving a strap and bare shoulder. I felt like telling my fellow rockers - "honestly, I wasn't going for "trashy" when I got dressed this morning.

5) My conscience is still pretty sensative - and I like that.

Rock Festivals - particularily punk rock festivals - I discovered today, simply aren't my style. Don't get me wrong - I had some seriously fun times. I LOVED running through rain with my girlfriend Sarah, holding her hand as we made our way to the washroom lineups. I loved the feeling of being protected from the jostling crowd by my husband's careful hands and hoisted onto his back, as he held me above the crowd to get a better view. It was great to see my homestay son seriously rocking out. And to be honest, the final band was an altogether awesome experience.

But while I loved the way the music sounded, being pumped through gigantic speakers into the crowd of people, my whole body vibrating with the noise, and while I loved the feeling of being one with this group of strangers, all moving to the same pulse, all singing the words to the same song - I just couldn't feel entirely comfortable there. Okay, there were MOMENTS when I felt entirely comfortable (the Billy Talent show was pretty amazing) - but for the most part, I never really relaxed - I just couldn't turn off the part of my personality that was quietly asking, "Really, Alyssa, what are you doing here?" Even when I was having a good time, I couldn't buy into the general atmosphere and I didn't like what the bands seemed to be promoting that day. I'm just not that girl - and I realized that I'm okay with that.

I mean, seriously. I lost my shoe!

But on the bright side - at least I didn't die.

Who wrote these tunes??

2009-06-28T01:29:00.007-05:00

First of all, I know everybody says this about their own child - but seriously, could she get any cuter?

Anyway, I noticed something the other day, thanks to my budding musician.

Rachel, my just-under-two-year-old, sings three songs now in their entirety: "Tinkle, Tinkle Wittle Staa", "Baa Baa Back Seep" and "ABCD". I already knew that twinkle and ABCs are almost identical in tune - but sing "Baa Baa black sheep" to yourself - it also has the same tune.

Of course, the tunes don't actually sound that similar when she's singing them. But they sound beautiful nevertheless. :)

An Emotional Exam

2009-06-24T11:43:00.004-05:00

Today my grade 12s wrote their last ELA exam. It was the final high school exam written - for me, this year and for them - well, ever. I imagined I'd feel a sense of elation - you know, not glad to see them go, but glad for the freedom offered by the summer. And in a sense, I did. But I also felt this permeating sense of personal loss.

I love these kids. And working at a Christian high school has allowed me also to learn spiritual lessons from them too.

A student - the last one to finish - hung around a little afterwards, looking through some old work to see if any of his had been left behind and then chatting briefly and talking about our respective summers. Before he left, he asked if he could pray for me. I readily accepted his offer. He is a student who I respect and maybe even admire -a brilliant writer and creative, intuitive thinker. I thought it must have taken some courage to offer that, and I appreciated it more than I think he will know. And as he prayed for me, I couldn't help but tear up - I wonder if he knew just how relevant his prayer was to my own spiritual walk, my own personal struggles. When he left - after high-fiving me (always a funny experience), I sat at my desk over my last bit of marking and truly wept.

I'm not sure why, but I suspect it was a combination of the truths he had just finished speaking into my life and praying about for me, and an acute sense of sadness - akin, I think, to bereavement - for the knowledge that this is really goodbye. It hit me again that this grade 12 class - who drove me so utterly crazy but who I sincerely love so much - with their sometimes dry, sometimes silly, sometimes simply irreverent sense of humour, their odd blend of legalism and utter freedom, their earnestness, their carelessness, their distinct and no-two-alike personalities - this class was moving on, like all grade 12 classes do. And, like the years before it, it is now time for me to say goodbye - and it's kind of heartbreaking. But, I suppose, heartbreaking in a good way.

So now, I settle in to mark my final exams. And part of me knows that even if these students can't quite figure out where to place their apostrophes, they just might be okay. In fact, many of them may make a lasting difference in this world. I know they've made one in mine.

June

2009-06-17T13:00:00.000-05:00

Three recent tell-tale signs its June:

A student recently realized he forgot to write a test. With a casual wave of my hand, I told him, "Eh, don't worry about it. We'll just excuse that one."

Today, when giving instructions, I couldn't remember a single student's name in my grade 10 English class.

And finally: An exchange between two male grade 12 students in my English class yesterday morning, as we were presenting our final assignments from our advertising unit:
"So, what did you end up doing for this?"
"Uhh... print ads, I think..."
" Print ads? I thought you were doing a commercial. Did you change to a print ad?"
"... Yeah..."
"Oh. But weren't you filming yesterday?"
"Oh yeah, we were... Wait, what class are we in right now?"

Alyssa the Thief

2009-06-16T13:07:00.002-05:00

I guess my tale begins last Wednesday morning, as I was about to head to work. My car seemed low on one side, and I knew - from experience - that it's no fun to drive with a flat tire. Trusting my husband's expertise in manly things like vehicle maintenance, I called him out to the driveway, pointed out the offending tire, and asked him if it was flat. That sweet man of mine gave a jolly laugh and said, "FLAT? Nooo, that tire's fiiiine."

I insisted: "Are you sure it doesn't seem low to you?"

"Nooooooo." Was his most-certain reply.

So, after work, when I went to the Co-op gas station to get gas, imagine my surprise and "I-Told-You-So" delight when the station attendant commented that my tires on the drivers side seemed really low.

After he pumped my gas, he offered to check the tire pressure, and so I pulled up to the side of the station and he checked. They were EXTREMELY low - almost flat - and so he most obligingly filled them for me. I basked in my rightness all week.

Did I mention the attendant was a grade 12 student of mine?

So, today in class, he asks me, "Did you ever go back and pay for your gas?"

WHAT??? I FORGOT!!

He laughs and reassures me, "Yeah, I told them not to worry too much about it - that you were my teacher." Then he adds as an afterthought "You haven't paid for it yet?" (and then there's some general joking about the RCMP picking me up).

I suddenly recalled how yesterday I was so excited to find an extra $20 in my wallet that I thought I had spent on something. Uhhh... GAS.

I am now officially a gas thief.

Sooo humiliating.

MESS

2009-06-11T08:00:00.000-05:00

So, my workspace is out of control. You think you know messy - trust me, until you've taken a look around my desk, you don't. Not REALLY. Not TRUE mess. Now, that's not to say I don't have an organizational system. My towering stacks of paper are fairly deliberate. But things, like keys and pens, and even, sometimes, staplers and coffee mugs, do tend to get buried.

Now, this is only a fraction of the mess that my car was (until husband cleaned it out) - my car, with multiple sour-milk coffee cups, brown bananas buried under heaps of McDonald's bags and old papers, sticky pens, miscellaneous toys, wet cheerios smeared on the the baby seat, and even - according to husband - BEANS ground into the passangerside carpet.

The mess in my car and the mess on my desk, though, pose two completely different problems. In some ways, the mess in my car - as revolting and gag-inducing as it was on a daily basis -was more manageable. I could drive and function just fine in that car - especially in the winter, when everything gross was frozen. In the spring, I found driving with the window open made the smell almost bearable, and I could function in the mess. The mess on my desk, though, is a problem because when I can't find my keys (due to their hidden location under a stack of test-papers), I can't get home and end up hunting for them for an hour and a half, where half-sympathetic colleagues and loitering students find me in collapsed in futile tears, trapped by my own chaos.

Just as the mess in my classroom causes me more problem than the mess in my car did, CLEANING the mess in my classroom is much more complicated. You see - my car just needed to be clean - then everything was fine. BUT, my classroom, as messy as it is, is (in its own way) actually kind of organized. So when I "clean" it and "organize" it to a publicly acceptable level, I can no longer find the things I need at my fingertips, and papers and handouts may get misfiled. My stacks of papers actually is fairly effective at keeping everything quite findable. So I don't really WANT to clean my mess, not only because it will not be a fun experience, but also because I know I will regret it when I go to find a test I've laid aside or when I forget an important memo because it is no longer laying on the corner of my desk beside my computer, waiting for me to address it.

BUT, despite the fact that it sounds like I'm rationalizing having this disaster area, I actually KNOW I need to fix it. I need to change. The problem is, though, I don't really know how.

Oh, I guess I "know" how - I mean, well-meaning people are always giving me advice on how to keep tidy and organized. And I do appreciate the advice. I do. But I've figured out the main problems with organizational advice. There are two:

1) Tidy people can't really give messy people useful help because they've never REALLY been in our shoes. They think they have ("one time, I actually forgot to dust the counters for a week! I couldn't believe it!") - but in reality, they just have no idea. Without seeing the world through the eyes of a messykins, without feeling how we feel and thinking how we think - any advice they give us is just impractical. But we do appreciate it. Really.

2) Messy people can't really give messy people useful advice because they are MESSY themselves, and messy people don't REALLY have a grip on staying tidy. Now, there are, of course, "recovered messykins", but these people don't usually give much advice at all, because, deep down, they know that there is no one cure for a messy personality. It has to come from something within that messykins, some unexplainable drive for a cleaner existence, some need to change that is beyond a simple "clean up one item each time to enter a room" solution. It's a drive I have not yet found, although I definitely feel it.

Anyway, I HAVE managed to keep my car clean for, like, a few weeks now - no garbage, no bad smells, no lingering papers - and I'm feeling pretty good about it. I'm always on the brink, though, of bringing the mess back. I can just sense it, teetering on the edge of my consciousness, waiting for me to leave a stray cup on the floor, to forget to bring in my fast-food wrappers, to spill some coffee - and then I fear it will be back, in full force. Because as any true messy individual knows, when we're messy - we're REALLY messy. There's no half- way.

At least we're consistent, right? :)

On Being Irritated

2009-06-10T08:45:00.007-05:00

There are soooo many things I want to blog about these days. Zig keeps saying to keep a list, but I'm always convinced I'll remember. But then, naturally, I never ever do. Soooo... today was a toss up. My two titles were:

- 5 Things I Can't Stand but HAVE to

- Learning to Love People I Don't Like

Both are kind of negative, I know - but I've been kind of irritated in general lately. NO, boys, it's not due to any particular monthly occurrence - I think it's actually just due to the fact that there seem to be more irritating people - or generally nice people doing really irritating things - surrounding me lately. Or actually maybe it's the fact that it rains every day. Maybe it's because I'm crazy busy at school, or because of my self-imposed restricted access to facebook and blogger and email from home. Perhaps it's because my students are all mentally checked out now that there's about a week and a half of actual classes, or because I know there's NO way to get all my marking done by next week, and yet have no choice but to do so somehow. OR maybe I'm more irritated these days because everything is breaking down or needs replacing in my house. OR... who knows why?

On a happiness scale, I'm actually about a 9.5 out of 10. Rachel is soooo sweet and soooo cute these days - we're best friends! :) Zig's been pretty great too, I must admit. My hair is getting longer. I'm losing weight, despite the fact I'm not doing anything diet-wise to do so. (yay metformin!) I'm feeling healthy and content and pretty self-satisfied.

BUT irritated nevertheless.

Perhaps summer is taking too long to arrive. Ever wish you could both slow down time and speed it up at the same time? I do. Especially today, when I need some time to mark and finish my final ELA units and plan my exam, but want desperately to stretch out in the sun on the beach, with my daughter - at exactly the same age she is RIGHT AT THIS MOMENT, playing in the sand beside me.

Wanting the impossible - now that's really irritating.

The trouble with uncertainty

2009-06-08T10:50:00.003-05:00

Hey bloggerverse - So, I think I picked up a virus from Facebook -

It came in the form of a message from a friend - turned out SHE had picked up the virus, and one of the wonderful functions of this particular virus was to hack into her facebook account and send out a message (containing the virus) to all her friends.

As a result, I'm pretty sure I have this virus, but I don't have a virus scan right now (I'm in the process of purchasing a good one), and now I don't want to sign into ANYTHING at home right now. Fear has me paralyzed, my friends - and rightly so, perhaps.

Consequently, I am able to blog even LESS frequently then before, since I only go online here at work until I have that scanner and can be sure I'm not going to infect my friends and relations.

I'm so self-sacrificing. Miss me yet?

Band-aids: The grater incident

2009-05-27T09:00:00.001-05:00

So, my homestay son was cooking supper on Sunday - a delicious pasta dish - and I, being the ever-helpful Canadian Mom, was grating the Parmesan cheese. As usual, I cannot be trusted in the kitchen - as I was working, the cheese slipped and I grated my knuckle in process.

Two things about this experience:

1) It freakin hurts.

2) It looks really, really cool. Have you ever seen a grated knuckle? I have. I tried to show Zig, but he was grossed out rather than impressed. Still. Cooool.

Anyway, after trying my best to make sure there were no tiny pieces of Alyssa in the cheese (in the end, my homestay son told me, "we're cooking it anyway", and dumped the cheese into the sauce, regardless of whether or not it may have contained non-cheese material. I ignored the possible super-eeeewww factor and told myself the grater caught it all) - and then I went to get a band-aid.

I could only find Curious George and My-Little-Pony bandaids, and feeling a little tired of the bloody TP wrapped around my pointer, I settled for a pink and green horsey. And I discovered something that will change my life. Well, at least my life as far as bandaid-requiring-injuries are concerned. It is this:

Kid Bandaids ROCK.

Trust me, I've used many, many bandaids, and these are noticeably superior. I image they will be the ones, no matter how professionally I am dressed, that I will use in the future.

They are, somehow, more comfortable and flexible than any other bandaid I've used. They also have less ouch-factor upon removal and yet seem to stay on more securely. Their sizes make more sense and they are simply a better all-around fit.

Of course, the fact that every time I look down on my owey I see a pretty pink pony smiling up at me, her eyes saying "Get well soon, Alyssa! I love you!" helps as well. I love you too, pony bandaid.

The Emerson Drive Concert

2009-05-25T14:33:00.000-05:00

So my husband took me to see the Emerson Drive concert, even though he is not particularly partial to country music. (My husband, btw, is awesome. More on that in another post).

Anyway, so he got us tix to the Emerson Drive show here in Winnipeg - and, to those doubters out there - it was amazing. If you don't know who Emerson Drive is, they're a Canadian country band, who formed, according to the lead singer, 15 years ago - when they were 15 years old. They have had, I believe, 4 albums under their current name, including the most recent one; Believe.

The concert was great; beautiful vocals, breathtaking musical skills, and some very nice eyecandy (the band is made up of 5 fairly attractive individuals).

And I'll tell you something else I love about their music - I love the things they choose to sing about. A lot of music out there right now is either completely trivial or pretty vile (or both) - and these songs are neither. I love the things they have to say and the way they say those things. It's music that makes me feel - and if you know me, you know I love to feel.

Afterwards, the fans had the opportunity to line up and get autographs and photographs, which we did (and then I came back the next day and did so again :) ) I have no idea what is so thrilling about meeting members of a band, but it is some kind of exhilaration for me. I loved it. Maybe because they're so talented, maybe because they're famous - but, I mean, I really really loved it. (This is me waiting in line for an autograph and picture with the guys. So ridiculously a-flutter. )

And I admire bands who are willing to sit there for an hour or so after their concert, forgoing the shower and beer and feet-up-on-the-table relaxation that I'm sure would feel so great after such a high-energy show, smiling and signing stuff for fans. I realize, of course, that there is benefit to this - more merchandise is sold and popularity bolstered - but it comes with sacrifice as well , and I do appreciate that. After all, stars are people too. :)

So that was my Emerson Drive update - just thought I'd post about it, since it was a highlight of my week. Seriously. I love them.

It's May 14...

2009-05-14T16:06:00.001-05:00

...And that means it's my birthday. Yup, another year older and, presumably, another year wiser. So, in honour of this day, as I turn 29 in the year 2009, here are 9 things I've learned during my time here on this earth.

1) You never REALLY know as much as you think you do. Neither does anyone else, though. And that's cool.

2) Don't believe the saying: "There are no wrong choices, only learning choices". There are, in fact, WRONG choices. Really. And you'll probably make some.

3) Enjoy other people's flaws, as well as your own. Being imperfect is not the worst thing in the world. In some ways, it makes life interesting.

4) People are neither basically "good" or basically "bad". We're a little of both.

5) Drink in every good moment, every rich memory, every smile, every tear. Life is much better when lived to the full. We're only given one, here on earth - we should definitely be making the most of it.

6) Love people. Accept that not everyone will love you back, but go ahead and love them anyway.

7) TELL people that you like them, when you like them and why you like them. They may think you're strange, but deep down, they'll be glad to know.

8) Be busy. Be still. Know that there really IS a season for everything, and that it's not just a saying. Love it.

9) Don't buy into other people's version of beauty. Look in the mirror and say - I am frickin awesome. And believe it. Cuz it's true.

Happy Mother's Day to Miiiiii

2009-05-10T09:45:00.006-05:00

So, it's Mother's Day. A time to thank our Moms for being so wonderful and/or to enjoy our motherhood. I know it's a manufactured holiday, designed to sell flowers and such to suckers, but I like it. I like having this great opportunity to focus on how great my Mom has been and to be given this "push" to do something to show her how much she means - although there's really no way to sum up in some flowers, a card, or some sort of gift, just how much she's meant to me as I grew up into adulthood, and how much she means to me now. My Mom has been my teacher, my confidant, my role model, and my best friend. She's helped grow and nurture my self confidence, my work ethic, and my relationship with God. She's encouraged my interests and passions and supported me as I tackled the task of growing up. She's my Mom - how can I thank her in a 6 dollar card and a small token of appreciation? Nevertheless, it's a good day to remember to do so.

Speaking of cards, I bought four cards from Halmark in preparation for Mother's Day (Zig's Mom and My Mom, from Zig&Me and from Rachel), and it came to $27 bucks. OUCH. I thought of putting them back and checking out Walmart, but I'd already invested, like, an hour in that card shop (trying to find the least terrible of the terrible cards out there there days! Gag me!) - so I took a deep breath and paid. It IS Mother's Day - and my Mom IS pretty special... but $27 for 4 cards? That just seems insane to me.

Anyway, on to MY Mother's Day. I'm home from Church today because Rachel has this Roseola (an infant/toddler thing, kinda like Chicken Pox but much milder), and is contagious so I need to stay home with her. Zig asked how I felt about missing church - and I answered with my gut reaction: "Awesome!" Listen, I love teaching Sunday School - but I really love the idea also of spending the morning at home with my little girl, just the two of us. It's nice. We played upstairs for a bit, and now are having a brief Elmo break while I write this blog. Then I think we may play outside for a bit.

Okay, so, besides staying home, I've also been blessed by some very nice presents. This morning was really really nice. After waking up early (Rachel decided it was time to get up at 5:30 today), we spent a little bit just hanging out in bed together, then headed downstairs, where Zig had set up gifts for me to open. (Marcel made breakfast - Mmmmm) -

So, to begin, Rachel gave me the card, and then (as prompted by Daddy), pushed her giftbag to me. I opened it...

It was the most beautiful piece of Artwork I have ever seen. Rachel hand painted it (with Daddy's supervision), using fingers and the brush. She put the paintbrush in as a finishing touch. It looks okay here, but in real life - it is breathtaking. I can tell already - she is going to be an artist like her Daddy.

Then, I opened the two other gifts. The first one was this beautiful potted flower. It smelled so nice and looked so pretty... I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for it. We all know what happens to poor plants around here when placed under my care. But I'm going to try really hard this time...

Then I opened my last gift. Zig had told me it wasn't a typical Mother's Day gift. After opening it, I saw what he meant. But - lets be honest here - I didn't mind one bit! SERIOUSLY. (YAAAAAY!). I've already created my character. I named her Alyssa. I'm so excited for later when Rachel's down for her nap :)

Uh... have I mentioned that I LOVE Mother's Day?

Tantrums, gnomes, and undergarments.

2009-05-04T14:00:00.002-05:00

So, my daughter is getting close to that infamous age. Her birthday, August 9, will welcome in the so-called "terrible twos". However, although I'm not sure they're really "terrible", I'm pretty sure that - although we're only at 21 months - we're pretty much there already.

Rachel is talking (so cute!) and walking (she's fast!) and... throwing tantrums. She repeats pretty much anything she hears (a danger for careless talkers) and understands most of what's going on around her. The only thing she loves more than watching Elmo (which I SWEAR barely happens!) is going outside -even though she has a raging cold and a runny nose. She begs to do both things incessantly, and I've long since discovered the futility of reasoning with a toddler. SO, since she simply cannot ALWAYS get her way, I've welcomed in the era of temper tantrums.

They're becoming a daily occurrence around here, and I have no idea what to do. Sometimes they're out of frustration - when she's asking for something and I have NO idea what she's saying - and sometimes they're due to futility - she's asking for something I can't in good conscience grant her.

Usually, I try first to comfort ("aww, baby, it's okay"), then to reason ("sweet-heart, we CAN'T go outside - it's raining and you have a cold!"), then to plead ("please, Rachel, you're just fine... please... just... stop... screaming..."), then to ignore (which is usually most effective). When it finally comes to a close (when Rachel drys her eyes and says, "Rachey all better!"), I'm relived but aware that the next one is just around the bend.

However, despite this being the age of tears and flailing hands and feet (she actually throws herself down and kicks her legs and pounds her fists on the ground), it's also the stage of remarkable personality, unfettered affection, playful fun, and unbearable cuteness. So, to celebrate the adventures in raising a toddler, here are my top three Rachelisms from yesterday.

1) When playing in the backyard in the morning, Rachel went over to greet the garden gnome. (with a very sweet "hiii!"). I told her, "It's a garden gnome." Rachel shook her head and corrected me: "Baby Santa!"

2) Rachel was playing in the living room and I was downstairs getting her clothes. Suddenly, I heard her little voice shrieking, "Mommy! Mommy!" I ran upstairs and she clutched onto my leg, pointing at the window frantically, "No yike dat!" (starting Ls are pronounced as Ys) I went to investigate, and she cautiously followed after me. Gathering her courage now, she approached the window and pointed out a small bug, crawling along the glass. "No yike dat!" I dispensed of it with a Kleenex, and she nodded. "All gone!" Later in the afternoon, she informed me seriously, "Rachey no yike da bug."

3) While I was changing into some jeans in my room, Rachel was going through the laundry basket. She found a bra and held it up to herself: "Yook. Mommy!" Holding it around her body, she began dancing around the room, calling, "Yook! Yook! Mommy!" and laughing like a maniac.

Man, I love this stage!!!

The Magic Chocolate Weight Loss Bunny

2009-05-02T12:59:00.003-05:00

So, two weeks ago I stopped counting "points" (for those unfamiliar with weight watchers, it's a fancy-schmancy way of calorie counting). I went on a brief hiatus, frustrated with my lack of progress and tired of the whole fiasco. These past two weeks I've had Chinese food, pizza, and lots and lots of Easter chocolate. I went for a total of 3 walks. And during this two week period, I've lost just under 5 pounds. WHAT?

Perhaps the secret is in the chocolate... Maybe the Easter bunny has some special, fat-countering powers he sprinkles into his recipes...

OR maybe it's my medication... I started taking my metformin regularly - oh, two weeks ago.

I'm gonna go with the chocolate theory. That's a lot more fun.

Film Friday: Babylon AD

2009-05-01T07:52:00.000-05:00

Director Mathieu Kassovitz has gone on record saying about his film Babylon AD: "I never had a chance to do one scene the way it was written or the way I wanted it to be. The script wasn't respected. Bad producers, bad partners, it was a terrible experience."

It seems like his experience is reflected in the reception this film has received. Babylon A.D. has had overwhelmingly terrible reviews. And the critic in me says: rightly so. There were undeniable plot-holes, moments of awkward dialogue delivery, unnecessary and stilted narration, and plain bad acting. And the plot and its characters weren’t a terribly original at that.

More unfortunate was the fact that, for some reason, I decided to watch the theatrical version, which – in addition to the aforementioned problems, also had significant pacing issues, some bizarre omissions, a confused plot arch, and a rather stuttering conclusion. The unrated version (a sort of director’s cut) is most definitely an improvement from the theatrical release, although not enough of an improvement to rescue this floundering sci-fi.

That said – I kind of liked it, anyway. While I intensely disliked the violence and was a little unhappily surprised by the messy wrap-up, I did enjoy the action sequences and seeing the sweet and beautiful innocence of our female lead, the sheltered Aurora, contrasted with the cynical, emotionally jaded, deliciously muscled Toorop (an especially attractive Vin Diesel). And the formulaic yet optimistic idea of a troubled, hardened hero’s frozen heart gradually thawing through the subtle influence of a gentler soul is always pleasurable to buy into. Even the religious commentary, which some people have objected to and which was not especially innovative, was a somewhat interesting one, if you give it some thought.

Overall, I have to pan this film, due to the story, characters, pacing, and acting. However, I watched it twice, and given the opportunity, would do so again. As I said, I liked it anyway. A generous 3 out of 5 stars, for watchability.

Funny Friends and Car Contests

2009-04-28T23:20:00.006-05:00

Some people are just funny. I like these people. I am not one of these people, but if you are, I probably admire you. And am jealous.

I have lots of funny friends. I try to stock-pile them, so I always have a laugh on hand (though my favourite type of funny is the kind of funny that makes you laugh inside... Can't think of how else to explain it... you know the type I'm talking about. A dry wit that is best served with a straight face)

Some of my most hilarious friends are... no, I won't name them, because it may make the less funny ones feel bad. BUT, like I said, I do try to collect the funny ones.

I saw one of my funny friends today. We went for wings and drinks. It was great.

Then I got home and had an email from a long-distance funny friend. We've drifted somewhat, her being far away and me being busy... I think we last spoke at her wedding, which was a very long time ago. BUT, she is still one of the funniest people I sort-of-know.

Her name is Crystal. She's on this cube contest. She wants to win a Cube (some kind of a car?) but needs votes. So I thought I'd put a quick plug for her here. Do me a favour and vote for her. She's great, she needs votes, and she'd really like the car. Plus, she's funny - and everyone likes funny, don't they?

To help convince you to vote for my friend, I'm posting her email text below. VOTE :)) http://tinyurl.com/cjbao9

Subject: Look Out, Here Comes the Spider Man

sorry but I thought that subject line would lead you to believe that this was a hilarious forward about spidey.

It’s not!

It’s late, I’m tired but I thought I should let you know how low I am in the ranks for this cube contest.

This is the link à http://tinyurl.com/cjbao9

In an attempt to win your daily vote (2 more weeks only)

aside from my daily videos (ok so not always daily but even spiderman has off days..)

here is a top ten list of reasons to vote for me every day (and tell everyone you know to do likewise)

10. Me winning a cube is like you winning a cube. Only it would technically be mine

9. As I write this email at least 3 of you have just sent me a forward telling me that a dead girl will kill me if I don’t send it to everyone I know I PROMISE TO FWD IT THIS TIME…um and also this will happen to you if you don’t vote…

8. As I write this another 3 people will send me a forward about 35 questions that I am supposed to answer and pass on to everyone I know I PROMISE TO ANSWER EVERY LAST QUESTION

7. It gives you a chance to see what I look like as it has been years since some of you have seen me! Look closely in the video’s for increasing grey hairs and muffin tops

6. Because you’re on the internet everyday anyways, so what’s one extra minute for 2 weeks among friends

5. Because I’m worth it

4. Because I’d do it for you (except if you’re also in this contest – then the war is on, soldier!)

3. Because I plan to take a road trip across Canada/US in my cube and come see you if I win…um and buy you a drink… or a kitten. you can choose!

2. Because I will hurt pixie if you don’t vote for me every day! I’ll pinch her tummy or something

and the number 1 reason to vote for me is…

1. I will join and stay on Facebook if I win a cube! :o

~good night~

Bum distractions

2009-04-26T18:38:00.004-05:00

So, I was standing in church today, and in the seat in front of me was a nondescript girl, somewhere - I'd guesstimate - between 15 and 23 years old, with a slim figure, long brown hair, and medium height. But what made me notice this particular young lady was that, as we were singing, I happened to glance down and notice a lone, long, white dog hair, curved outwards, clinging there on her right cheek. You know the cheek I'm talking about.

And, being a young, slim little thing, the black pants she had on were fairly tight, and hugged her derrier quite snugly; this seemed to somehow make the white dog hair even more noticeable.

Do you have any idea how much willpower I had to employ to resist the temptation of reaching out and plucking the dog hair off her pants? But the fear of accidentally brushing against her kept my hands firmly in place.

Can you imagine if I'd touched her bum? In church??

Happy Belated Shakespeare Day!

2009-04-24T09:00:00.002-05:00

So, yesterday was Shakespeare Day, although I noticed Google didn't seem to celebrate it. Not sure if it's an official day, then, but it certainly is in my books!

I celebrated the day yesterday by printing up a sheet on how to talk like Shakespeare, and running a number of Shakespeare Challenges for prizes throughout my ELA classes (Talk like Shakespeare, move me with a soliloquy, quote a speech, etc). I also envied a fellow ELA teacher, who shares a birthday with Shakespeare!

Interestingly enough, his birth date and death date are reported to be on the same day (April 23rd - although, as Zig pointed out to me in the evening, it's only RUMOURED to be his birthday -they actually don't know the exact date, only that he was baptised on the 26th. BUT it's been celebrated as his birthdate due to a mistake about baptism dates and since it conviniently fell on St. George's day, celebrated there since 1222, so - whatever! I read something now that suggests it may have been on the 22nd, rather than the 23rd. I say - close enough!).

Now, I know many of you think Shakespeare is highly overrated, and while I understand your position, I simply cannot agree. Shakespeare's plays may not contain the most original storylines, but the way his characters come to life paired with the beauty of the language is - quite frankly - riveting, and whether or not students admit to it - something worth experiencing.

So, to all you Bard lovers (and also to those Bard resistors out there) - Happy Belated Shakespeare Day! Hope your day was full of Shakespearean joy and happily free of his classic angst.

That's just how I roll

2009-04-23T19:00:00.001-05:00

So, I often refer to my life as a happy mess. I suppose that's alright, although some days are messier than others.

Yesterday:
- Woke up late, after sleeping on laundry.
- Couldn't find socks - wore sandals. My toes were cold.
- Since I was late, didn't pack a lunch, so went to McDonalds for lunch. Bank card declined for $6.75.
- Former student working there witnessed my cashless humiliation. I paid with credit card.
- On the way home, remembered last minute that I was out of gas. Swung into grocery store parking lot and headed towards the gas pump at the end of it. Somehow didn't notice the killer curb-and-a-half separating the lot from the station, and flew over it, grinding and bumping on the way up and down.
-Bounced my way up to the pump. Went inside to prepay, in case my credit card was at the limit. Greeted by gales of laughter from the employee there, who happened to be a former student. I commented with a wry smile that I was hoping nobody noticed, to which he nodded, wiped his eyes, and replied, "oh, we noticed." It almost felt better to share my humiliation with someone, though.
-On my way home, worried about the car, I thought I'd make sure I had my phone if my car broke down. I did, but it was completely dead. I'd forgotten to recharge it for the last three nights.
- Came home late. Found $25 bucks in my pants! Score! Put it back in my pants to avoid losing it.
- Decided to throw in a load of laundry before bed. Forgot about the money. Washed the pants.

Today:
-Lost keys
-Found them in the possession of another teacher - turned in by a student who had found them some place or other.
-Lost jacket somewhere at school. Left at the end of the day jacketless.
- On the way home, decided to call Zig. Realized I left Cell at school. Who-knows-where.
-Remembered the money in the pants in the dryer.

Sigh.

The great laundry adventure

2009-04-22T21:16:00.001-05:00

All week, I've been sleeping on a gigantic pile of clean laundry. Not exactly ON it, but - well - around it, kind of. I started out with the best intentions, you know. I'd washed about 6 loads of laundry, and Zig, being an ambitious fellow - dumped it out on the bed, with the idea that we'd promptly put it away. And, being the supportive wife I am, I jumped on board with this idea and took the now-empty baskets and filled them up with sorted, dirty laundry.

But we never got around to putting the clean laundry away - we simply ran out of time - and we no longer had any empty baskets to move it back into. The first night, faced with this overwhelming mountain of clothing, we did what any reasonable people would do... well, what any reasonable, terribly overworked, completely exhausted and yet ingeniously creative people would do... we squished all the laundry together in a ridiculously high, long, snake-like formation and wrapped it tightly together with our clean sheet. Then, we snuggled in on either side of our new laundry snake, eyes peaking over the top at one another, and whispered goodnight.

The next morning, we carefully unwrapped our preserved treasure and hunted for our clean clothes. We vowed to hang it up the next night.

This did not happen. So, when it came time to fall into bed, we again went through the process of covering our sin. But, because of the morning rummaging, the shape had changed, and now it formed itself into a tall, wide, lopsided mountain. We wrapped the monstrosity up again, but it had somehow grown larger, and we found ourselves sleeping snuggled together, lying in a tiny, diagonal space across what was left of the top of the bed.

Next couple of days/nights, similar process, but getting less amusing. I nearly fell off the bed more than once.

I know you're wondering why we didn't just hang up the clothes already. I can't give you a good answer, other than - we were just so stinkin tired by the end of the day, that sharing a bed with some shirts and undies sounded much more bearable than spending the hour or so it would take to put it all away. And also, at least at the beginning, it was kind of fun and funny - wrapping up this laundry and jigsawing ourselves into the bed together.

But now, the laundry has to go. I suppose. Or maybe we'll just sleep on the couch tonight. That could be fun too, couldn't it?

:)

2009-04-21T13:11:00.004-05:00

Just read the most hilarious student typo ever, and had to share with someone!

A student, writing a caption for an article assignment, meant to write: "The current drop-in location has been proudly situated here since 1991."

They accidently wrote "location" as.... "lactation".

Tee-hee!

2 minute post

2009-04-17T08:57:00.003-05:00

...Okay, never wrote a post in 2 minutes, but here it goes -

At work now - class starts in 3 min.

Been busy, hectic.

Can't seem to stay on my diet! Why do I love cheese and chocolate so much! (although not together, of course)

There goes the bell.

Sorry for my absence. I'll try harder next week.

K bye.

My Spring Break - In rhyme

2009-04-03T18:35:00.008-05:00

Every year we wait for it -
When the air is fresh and cool,
when students and teachers take a break
from the daily grind of school

Although we like our school of course,
we just cannot deny
That when spring break comes back around
we heave a happy sigh

My spring break was short this week
Or at least it felt that way
But I guess it's like that every year
As I work and rest and play

As I look back on my week
And how I filled the time
In honour of its ending now
A quick review, in rhyme

Monday Rachel saw the doc
ear infection, fever, fears
then back home, antibiotics
My little baby's tears

Tuesday was my dentist day
My teeth x-rayed and cleaned
Picked up my meds (as usual)
And endured that jabbing fiend

Since Mom and I share the doc
Who cleans our teeth and such
We went together on that day
not expecting much...

But afterward returned to find
Her car in quite a state
window broke, hood ajar
A sad, frustrating fate

It turns out that while we were gone
her car began to smoke
People, worried, called 911
(because they're helpful folk)

So though the car was just quite hot
with their fear of fires -
the fire department did their job -
and cut a bunch of wires!

So Mom and I - stranded now
Waiting for my pop
to fix the car and get us home
we lunch, and chat, and shop.

Wednesday was a playdate day
And we went off to see -
Beautiful pregnant Alison
And her little Bethany

Thursday I spent all day -
Marking essays, tests, and more
Zig did freelance while I worked
(At night, our brains felt sore)

Friday - that's today all right -
To Steinbach for to swim
But the pool was all filled up
We just could not go in :(

The saddest part was as we left
Rachel was heard to say
"go in the water!", with hand outstretched
And we said - "not today"

Then off to my sis's house we were
to see my brand new neice
Pricilla - what a cutie pie!
Holding her was peace.

My other niece played sweetly with
Rachel all the while
the boys hung out downstairs alone
jamming, improv style

And so this week comes to a close -
It wasn't long enough
To do everything still on my list
To accomplish all my stuff

Nonetheless I must admit
that this time off was grand -
but now it's time to come back from
my happy spring-break land.

Peace-out

This and That

2009-03-17T12:47:00.006-05:00

For my post today, I thought I'd do another list (cuz I'm creative like that). Today just feels like a sensory day for me. My ups have been way up and my downs have been infuriating. So, with no further ado, 2 highs and 2 lows of my day thus far.

Coo -
1) Saint Patrick's Day Goings-On. I never really participate, and I'm not really up on the history, but I like it. I like wearing green. (I'm 1/4 Irish - that's gotta count for something, right?) I like Zig's St.P's look on his blog. I like the idea of green beer (although I've never had any myself).

2) SPRING!! Man, it's great to go outside and not fear frost bite. I have no idea why I live in this province. 8 out of 12 months are miserable. I don't think anyone hates the cold more than me, and yet here I am, living in it most of the year. That said, our spring and summer (especially summer) simply rocks. The fresh spring air, the melting snow, the returning birds - absolutely beautiful. I drove home yesterday and here this morning with my windows down. I walked through to the parking lot without my gloves or hood. I savoured the feeling of the breeze kissing my cheek.

Uncoo -

1) Playing leap-frog with other highway drivers. Come ON dude. PICK A SPEED!!!! I can think of few things as irritating on the highway as when some driver is going at a snail's pace, and then, after I pass them, decide they'd like to pick up speed and pass ME. Which - in and of itself - would be fine. BUT then they repeat the process. Suddenly, I'm on their bumper, and snoozey-mc-snooze is poking along without a care in the world. So, with a patient sigh, I change lanes and drift on past. Back in the right lane a few minutes later, there's that car again, SPEEDING UP behind me. Sure enough, blinker on - there they go. And this continues. Please - just choose a speed and stick to it. It's annoying to have to pass the same car over and over and over and...

2) When students don't follow instructions. Listen - I love my students. All of them. But sometimes I feel like I'm wasting my time to try so hard. Any time I'm teaching something, I explain it, give clear handouts/notes, go over those handouts/notes, discuss it, expand on it, and give examples. And, without fail, I'll have a number of students who seem to have missed every word I spoke and wrote. As if I never said anything at all. This is very discouraging and frustrating!!! YOU NEED A THESIS STATEMENT IN AN ESSAY. YOU NEED A CONCLUSION AT THE END.

On that note, hope all my readers are having a superb spring and a spectacular St. Patrick's Day. Enjoy your green drinks and happy thoughts. Cheers!

International Day of Awesomeness

2009-03-10T10:28:00.005-05:00

So, I've been informed that today is - yep, you read that title right - the International Day of Awesomeness. So, in honour of this momentous holiday, I thought I would share with you five random items from... (drumroll please)

MY AWESOME LIST OF AWESOME AWESOMENESS

1) Kids. Don't believe the lies. Kids are awesome. My OWN daughter, of course, is the awesomest, but OTHER people's kids, too - and I'll tell you why. First of all, they are often brutally honest, which is hilarious to watch. Also, they do funny, socially unacceptable things, like pick their nose and scratch themselves, in public - which again, is hilarious AND AWESOME. Especially if it makes people uncomfortable. AND, even when a particular child is a bit of a terror, it's great because you KNOW that they will be going home with some other poor sap - Awesome? Check!

2) Hot chocolate. When my hands are icy and my day is gray, hot chocolate rocks for two main reasons. One - it is hot. Two - it is chocolate.

3) Chocolate. Obviously.

4) Love. (It's also, of course, on my list of suckyness, but that's for another time)

5) Pasta. So many delicious combinations. Can be combined successfully with chicken, beef, or shrimp. Sauced with mushrooms, cream, or tomato. In a variety of tantalizing shapes and textures. Can be fancy or plain, served with bread or salad. Good for any occasion. Awesome awesome.

Now, I promised to limit myself to 5, but I'll just give a brief sampling of other items from my list of awesomeness - you know, in case you were curious -

Banana chocolate chip muffins, freshly baked cookies, husbands, husbands who BAKE freshly baked cookies, snow, fire places, summer, sunshine, Christmas, swimming, friends, bloggers, bloggers who are friends, funny people, sleep, bacon and eggs in the morning, photographs, a good stylist, flip-flops in summer, childhood memories, ice water with a slice of lemon, music, a riveting/moving book/movie, family, ball-point pens, technology, the beach.

Wishing you and yours an AWESOME day.

Film Friday: The Beautiful and the Bland

2009-03-06T21:03:00.007-06:00

Slum Dog Millionaire

This film has been reviewed, dissected, dissed, and embraced. It has been nominated for multiple academy awards, and has won many of those nominations. It has been on every passionate movie goers lips, if not for the storyline or the cinematic elements, simply for the hype. So - reluctantly and despite my new vow to avoid movies that may scar me emotionally - I watched it. And quite honestly, enjoyed every moment. The story was told in a way that was original and intriguing, the characters were wonderfully human, and the setting - the world of poverty in India - was both horrifying and breathtakingly beautiful. While the tale was tragic and heartbreaking at some points, it was nevertheless an uplifting, triumphant story about the strength of the human spirit and the power of love. 5 stars.

Push

While this film offered up flashy effects, fast action, and a pumpin' sound track -as well an unusually delicious Chris Evans - there was little else in the way of real entertainment or originality. A blend of all generic superhero movies, the whole plot was fairly predictable and left the audience feeling an odd sense of deja vu. With elements reminiscent of X-Men, Jumper, and Heroes, the viewer knew exactly where the story was heading and yet were strangely disappointed when we got there. Even the characters let me down. While I enjoyed Evans' addictive pout and saultry "the world hates me" eyes, Dakota Fannings thigh-high dress and overly sexualized rebellious preteen character was somehow disturbing. I couldn't help but wonder whether it was the director or the writer whose pedophiliac fantasies came into play with that decision. While this movie was briefly entertaining, I thought it definitely didn't deliver the "wow" factor promised by the previews or come close to it's coolness potential. 3 stars.

Seriously, dude?

2009-03-04T19:53:00.002-06:00

So, on Tuesday we had a guest speaker in our chapel at school (I teach at a private Christian High School, for those outta the loop). Anyway, so it's the youth pastor of a local church. Fabulous, excellent guy. Down to earth, funny, insightful - the students love him, and I only have positive things to say about him myself. Except...

During this chapel, he and his wife were answering questions about their relationship, and someone asked him, "what did you look for in a girl?" He replied:

"One things I wanted was someone who would want to stay home with our future children..." Okay, fair enough. That is more than reasonable... great... but, then he clarified... "because, you know, I didn't want a daycare raising my kids."

Ouch. As opposed to all us career women, who happily surrender our youngens to have the public education system raise them? And is he implying, then, that his wife is "raising his kids" and that he is not (since he works outside the home)? Or that his children are "Raised" by the age of 5, when they head off to kindergarten?

I don't have any problem with the deliberate decision to stay home with your children, or to choose a spouse who has that same outlook. That's great. But to imply that if your child goes to daycare, you are handing them off to be raised by someone else, is erroneous and - more importantly - really kind of hurtful.

It made me think, though - is that what I'm doing? IS the daycare raising my daughter? Is he accurate in his off-the-cuff statement and inherent condemnation of my choice?

And then I thought of my Mom and me. From infanthood, I was in private daycare. But whose values did I end up with? Whose outlook, belief system, work ethic, and personality did I develop? Not those of my babysitter - definitely not. I am unmistakably like my mother. We are - and always have been - extremely close. To suggest she didn't raise me is ludicrous. I wasn't raised by my daycare, I was raised by my parents. The daycare just looked after me during the day - much like when I was in school.

Anyway, so those are my thoughts on THAT comment. I think there is great value in staying home with your children - in choosing to only work inside the home. Maybe next time I will be able to do that. BUT, it is simply unfair to categorize all mothers who also work outside the home as having daycare raise their children.

That's what I comfort myself with these days, anyway.

Confession: I'm not a team player (insert shocked gasp here)

2009-03-01T16:02:00.004-06:00

I always sell myself as a team player. In some respects, it's true; I am. I mean, I love working with people. I love being part of a group working towards a common goal. I love having colleagues and coworkers. I thrive in shared environments. BUT, I realize more and more each day - these things alone, a team player does not make.

Now, if you think of teamwork as "working towards a common goal under one leader" - well, I rock at that. You give me a strong leader and place me as part of a group of workers - I am awesome. I will support my leader, work with my team, love what I'm doing, and excel.

BUT, when we begin to define "teamwork" as working as part of a group of leaders - all with equal voice and decision-making power, THEN I have a problem. You see, I either lead or follow. I prefer to lead (after all, who can do a better job than me?) BUT, if I'm not leading, then I default to following. Somewhat mindlessly, in fact. I just don't go for all this "we all do an equal share and have an equal voice in decision making". I mean, it sounds great on paper, but it just doesn't work. At least, not for me.

Reflecting on what my problem is, I realize a large part of it is that I can't stand having my ideas put aside for inferior ones, due to some sort of group process (which really usually just amounts to the loudest or most annoyingly well liked group member giving their asinine opinion and having it embraced by the masses). It irritates me. Also, it's hard for me to have my hands tied to anything I really want to do by being part of a group who "decides together", or knowing I could do a better job alone than the sum of my group. So as soon as I'm placed in a position of powerlessness (ie 'teamwork') - I simply do what I'm told.

In fact, reflecting back on my high school AND university experience, this has always been the case. I loved being in a group with slackers, because then I could do what I do best (get the job DONE) without anyone else's sticky fingers in my work. I could merrily place my group members' names on the project without any worries, because they would do well (making me a hero), because they were with me - and, like I said, I get the job DONE.

HOWEVER, when placed with keeners - who I always found annoying with dumb ideas, I might add - after some attempts to get my voice heard, I gave up and went with whatever thing they were trying to do. And, without fail, I always ended up being the absolute worst slacker of the group. The group would sigh at my lack of initiative and complain that I didn't do my share - but... well ... I never knew quite what my share was. I mean, really - which part of their 'creative' and 'brilliant' (silly and underdeveloped or overly ambitious and doomed to failure) project did they want me to take ownership for? Ick. So - of course - my performance in these mandated group projects was always pathetically lacking.

Now I'm finding, though, that these assigned group situations weren't completely unlike "real life". I love my job as a teacher, because I get to "lead" (in my classroom) and "follow" (my administrator, school rules, and board policies). BUT, when it comes to deciding on a new policy or plan or trip, I unhappily find myself part of the "equal team" dynamics again. And it just becomes an exercises in futility. I'm always outvoted and, as only one of three female teachers on my staff (and by far the least conservative), sometimes not really heard, I think.

Or if I'm supposed to be taking part in some program I didn't really come up with nor have any real say in, I tend to just do what I'm told (instead of taking initiative), and then, of course, put in less effort than I admittedly should.

In other areas too - like teaching Sunday School - I am not good at being part of a two-person team. I tend to try to pull the reins, or to - get off the sleigh (to use the horse metaphor I went with here).

I'm finding, though, that I need to work on the teamwork thing. Whether I like it or not, teamwork is part of life. Be it in a marriage, a frienship, a church, or a job. So, I've been trying to figure out what the root of my problem is.

Perhaps it's an overinflated ego. A pride thing. Maybe a lack of faith in other people. Or maybe it's just a fear of failure. Or a lack of assertiveness. Or just a need of defined roles.

Or maybe I just have better ideas than everyone else. :)

Who, me?

2009-02-26T21:52:00.004-06:00

Okay, I suck. Sorry to any readers who still pop by here every now and then, wondering if I am still alive.

I am. Don't fear.

7 quick notes:

-I've seen some movie's lately - I'd like to bring back my Film Friday feature one of these days. Grace is Gone is still on the top of my list to review.

-I don't quite fit in with anyone. Too liberal for my conservative friends and too conservative for my liberal friends. Who is like me? Just me. And sometimes, this makes me sad.

- We have been mandated to keep a teacher's page up on our school website with info about tests and assignments. It's slightly time consuming but very unrewarding, because I really don't think (actually, pretty sure about this one) that any students or parents use it - at least the 9 - 12 students/parents. At the same time - it is strangely fun to upkeep.

- Zig and Marcel keep baking cookies. This is a problem for me, because I like cookies. A lot. You can imagine the problem, I'm sure.

- Celebrated V-day at the Forks. It was nice. I noticed, though, that Valentine's Day with a baby is vastly different than with simply a spouse.

- I still read your blogs and comments. I miss writing regularly.

-Overall, I am happy.

Update

2009-01-29T08:57:00.002-06:00

Okay, so it's been a while. BUT, since I've reached a particularily difficult section in marking my Provincial Exams, I figured - there's no time like the present to write an overdue blog. Ahh, procrastination, how I've missed you.

So, what's happened since we last chatted:

- I went as a chaperone on a school ski trip and accidentally went full speed off a jump. The students told me if I just "go down it" I won't jump it, but they forgot to say I'd need to slow down first. Four things resulted: 1) I got "sweet" air. 2) I landed it 3) briefly, before falling down 4) Too old for jumps. BUT, I did try a few more times with a fellow teacher - this time, sloooowing down. By the end, I was able to actually get a little air AND land it without ending up in a heap on the snow.

- I've resumed taking my full dosage of metformin (this is a common off-label use for the diabetic medication to treat PCOS). Due to the drug, I'm sick all the time. Constantly. It's like being pregnant but without the baby and weight gain. Speaking of weight gain though, that's the one thing I really like about metformin. I'm finally staaarting to lose my baby weight (either because it's regulating my hormones or because I'm too sick to eat like I used to). So... good, I guess. But feeling soooo bad.

- I'm crazy busy as usual. Right now, I'm marking exams, including the provincial standards test. I don't enjoy marking the provincial exams. I want to be accurate and fair but I don't always like the test questions and I don't know if they assess what's really valuable. BUT, I will do my job, and - as always - do it thoroughly. What makes this exam especially stressful is that it is someone else's test design. At the end, they'll take in a number of the tests and check my accuracy - and so I want to be accurate. And this REALLY stresses out the "pleaser" in me. I want my government to be pleased, whether or not I agree with their educational outcomes and assessment methods. And I also want to be fair to my students.

- I love teaching, but the marking is really overwhelming. I want to move to half-time next year (oh-so-badly) but our school usually doesn't do that. But I looooove this school.

- Our current homestay son goes home on Saturday. It's weird - Rachel just learned his name and he's become a part of our family - but off he goes. Who knows if we'll meet again. It was like that with the other three students as well. Every now and then I think about them and wonder how they're doing and if they miss their time with us in Canada. Christian, our first, visited this summer though, and that was fabulous. I hope we'll see the others too one day.

- Rachel is a genius.

When your body hates you

2009-01-11T17:07:00.006-06:00

So, on Wednesday my sweet little Rachel had her first Stomach flu, and her first experience with vomit. She was - needless to say - appropriately horrified at the sensation, and met each retching impulse with the desperate need to cling desperately onto Mommy and - after vomiting down my shoulder/on my lap - kiss me on the mouth and wipe her little hands on my shirt.

During this experience, dear husband continued to wisely advise me - "well, hold her away from you"/"hold her over the bathtub". Let me just admit now that my favourite moment of the night was when he was holding Rachel and she upchucked on his legs and over the leather jacket he was wearing. I thought smugly to myself - "hold her away from yourself!" I didn't say it though - although I guess I'm saying it now... ha ha!

Anyway, I thought we'd escaped from the encounter with barf unscathed (other than a few loads of laundry and a mattress/section of carpet desperately in need of deodorizing) - but it turns out, the stomach flu... it's contagious.

On Friday, I woke up and discovered my body was my enemy. But I thought -mind over matter - and went into school anyway to be there for my grade 12s writing their provincial exams. I soon discovered - my mind is no match for my body. Especially when my body is so intent on expelling everything. I must have thrown up there - like - at least 8 times. And there are no staff bathrooms - poor students! On top of that, I was now going hot/cold/hot/cold, feeling dizzy, and beginning to panic.

Anyway, as you can surmise, I finally had to surrender and go home - and that had to be the worst 35 minute drive (plus stopping time) EVER. When I got to the sanctuary of my home and crawled into my bed at around noon, I was looking forward to some serious help from my husband, just home from his classes. However, around 2pm I woke up to the sad truth: Zig also had the stomach flu, and the contents of his body were making their way out as well. (Hearing someone else barfing is almost as gross as doing it yourself, let me tell you!). So, both of us were violently sick together (and I was pretty mad that he stole my sick day, too), and while we slept and suffered away the afternoon (in separate rooms), in the evening we were able to call on our mighty parental strength and somehow care for our healthy and highly active 16 month old. But it wasn't easy, and we may have put her to bed a little early too - and I selfishly skipped her bath.

All of this is to say, I discovered something about the old adage, "misery loves company."

It is true that misery loves company only when there is something comforting or amusing about sharing the misery. For instance, I did enjoy sharing the experience of baby-barf with the husband - I may have even had to hide a smile when Rachel shared her throw-up with Zig. HOWEVER, I would have preferred NOT to share my misery of illness, for no one was well enough to care for me. And I do love to be cared for.

Today, though, I feel much better. To be honest now, part of me is enjoying the idea that I have also shared the misery - at least a part of it - of the image of vomit. Because I've mentioned it so much, how can you NOT have pictured it - at least once - and shuddered? And THAT, my friends, is just the type of misery that soooo loves company. :)

On Sleeping In

2009-01-02T08:33:00.003-06:00

I remember sleeping in. I liked it. I never really, though, appreciated it for what it is: a rare luxury afforded to a select many; the teenagers, the single, those without children or needy pets, those with children old enough to sleep in themselves.

I no longer sleep in. Ever.

Among the many changes brought about by motherhood is the simple fact that your time is no longer your own. And - however desperately you wish to - it is next to impossible to explain to a 16 month-old that mommy would like to sleep a little bit longer, and could baby try to please go back to sleep for an hour or so. (Trust me - I've tried.)

Even when Daddy does get up with her so Mommy can sleep - I can hear her stomping about downstairs, playing with her electronic toys, loudly demanding, "ELMO!", and calling sadly every now and then, "MA-MA! MAM! MA-MA!"

Not quite the sleeping-in of days past.

Our exchange student - our "son" for the past several months -is a teenager. And, as teenagers are wont to do, he sleeps in. Or tries too, anyway. He's pretty good at ignoring the chaotic noise of our mornings most days. He sometimes has a friend sleep over though. In the basement on the couch. Sleeping in doesn't work so well for that young man. Part of me feels bad - the part that remembers, with a happy, nostalgic sigh - my own days of blissfully sleeping in. The other part of me, though - that tired, busy, Mommy part of me - feels no remorse whatsoever. After all, if I can't sleep in - no one shall!! (insert evil laugh here).

Anyway, when I think about it, I know there is much to be said for NOT sleeping in. After all, who really wants to miss the beauty of the early morning? Who wants to slumber half the day away? Who wants to crawl out of bed at 1pm? Who wants to miss out on time that could be spent in activity, in friendship, in fun?

... I'd formulate an answer, but I'm a little tired. Also, I'm working on keeping Rachel quiet so our international son and his friend can sleep in a little. Lucky ducks.

Begin breaking resolutions....NOW

2009-01-01T16:00:00.002-06:00

5 Resolutions for 2009

So, since it seems to be a solid tradition for me to:

a) make new year resolutions
b) post them here
c) fail gloriously

... I thought - why mess with a good thing?

So, here they are, folks. 5 resolutions for 09

1) Stop biting my nails!! (What am I - twelve??)
2) Stick to low GI food choices. Seriously, man.
3) Drastically reduce unhealthy snacking. It's alllll about control.
4) Keep up with my marking. Do a little each day. More on the weekend. Use my preps wisely. That sort of thing.
5) Keep reading and writing. I've really enjoyed using my mind lately. Keep up the good work, me!

There are some other things I'd like to do this year, but I think I've chosen some the most practical ones here. I also want to get in shape (as usual) and do the relay marathon again this spring, but life has been pretty crazy busy - we'll see how the year is working out closer to training time. I will make those "optional resolutions." Or maybe "bonus resolutions." Like I said, we shall see.

Anyway, hope your enjoying a fabulous 2009 so far, folks! Peace out -

The ghosts of resolutions past

2008-12-31T10:10:00.005-06:00

In honour of the upcoming new year, I thought I'd take a quick "inventory" of my last couple years' resolutions - You know, kind of see how those went. We'll start with 2 years ago:

7 NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS for 2007
(This year's commentary in yellowish-white)

1. Stop "cheating" with Chocolate. I have chocolate at least once a day, despite my doctor's prohibition for me. So, let's try to reduce that number by having it only once a week. And let's say I'll have this accomplished by...hmm... February 16th.
- Current status: Uhhh... no. Chocolate and I still have a mutual dependency. In fact, I think this one's gonna make it onto the top of my list again this year.

2. Stop biting nails. Yep - this one goes to round two.
- Current status: Lets make that round three...

3. Spend 30 minutes after school each day marking student work. Be disciplined.
- Yeah, if I'd succeeded with that one I wouldn't have spent over 6 hours marking yesterday and still have at least another 6 or 8 to go before returning to school on the 5th.

4. Spend more time with God on a regular basis.
- Nope.

5. Be a better friend. This includes calling my friends more regularly and making more of an effort to see them.
- Some friends - yes. Some friends - well, not so much.

6. Cook at least two meals a week. Bake at least once a month. Do laundry at least once a week.
- Insert hysterical laughter here.

7. Write something

- Did some freelance writing. Started my new novel this holiday. YES!

... Okay, so those didn't go so well, overall. Let's check out last years resolutions, shall we?

10 Resolutions for 2008.
(Again, current commentary in yellow)

1) Spend daily time in devotions
- Well, I certainly have good intentions. But, we've established already - no.

2) Exercise 3 times/week on a regular basis
- Does getting out of bed in the morning count? No? Well then - no.

3) Lose 13 pounds by June 1st (through healthy eating and exercise, of course!)
- Maybe, if by "lose" I actually meant "gain", and by "13" I meant - say - "18" or so.

4) Cook balanced dinners at least 4 times/week
- More hysterical laughter

5) Go to bed earlier
- Sometimes. YES! (I suspect this one comes naturally with age - can I still count it as a victory?)

6) Keep my house cleaner
- Some days, yes.

7) Keep better control of my spending
- This ones a yes too! (although I did forget to pay a number of very important bills last month)

8) Learn to play an instrument - thinking guitar or relearning my Saxophone
- Did I really set this as a resolution????

9) Show Zig that I appreciate him on a daily basis
- I'm like, the awesomest wife EVER

10) Have more self discipline.
- I have no idea what I was talking about here. We can assume, though, I achieved a small measure of success. Or... maybe not.

.... So... maybe my new resolution should be to pick more realistic resolutions?

...(we all know at least half of these will make a repeat appearance on this year's list anyway. )

Hope you have a Great New Years eve!

Our Uncanny Look-Alikes

2008-12-29T13:00:00.002-06:00

Here's an interesting observation:

I've always thought that Zig and I - as a couple, I mean - really resemble another pair. Our doppelgangers, however, just happen to be puppets. Muppets, to be precise. From Sesame Street.

I always thought we looked like these two others for the simple fact that I have such a round-shaped face, and Zig's is quite oval. The similarities have become more striking, though, now that my hair is short.

I told Zig this fact the other day (although I was sure I'd mentioned it before - I'd noticed the similarities right from the very beginning) and he laughed. He didn't disagree though.

Can you blame him? :)

A Romantic Evening in the Garden of Olives

2008-12-28T21:42:00.004-06:00

Who says married people can't date?

Zig and I went on TWO dates this weekend.

Yesterday afternoon, we went to see "The Curious Case of Benjamen Button" (Doesn't that title just feel nice in your mouth. Say it out loud. Beautiful). It was good, we had fun - but we ate in the mall food court before the movie and I left my purse at the table. Right before the movie started, I realized my purse was no longer on my shoulder. So, leaving Zig at the theatre, I dashed back through the mall like a crazy hobo (at a full run in my slightly too large black boots - a purchasing mishap, long story - and my long, open, black coat with gray car smudge along the back), and frantically search for the missing bag. I ask random people sitting in the general vicinity, but it is of new use. Then, I dash to the lost and found desk, by this time my cheeks are flushed from the stress and the heat, and I'm sure I'm visibly sweating. No one had turned everything in. As I headed back to the movie in defeat, I saw a mall employee walking towards the desk with - tada! - my purse. I got it back, and everything was safe and sound within it. YES! I escaped the valuable lesson I may have learned had I not lucked out by having it returned. I never really appreciate valuable lessons anyway.

Then tonight, we went to the Olive Garden. It was really fun. I'm glad I married my best friend. Good choice, me! We spent the evening talking about my pipe dreams (I'm working on a novel - page five, baby!), having staring contests (I always blink first. I'm convinced it's because my eyes are so much bigger than his!), watching amusing youtube videos (ever seen someone get punched in the face in slow motion? Fascinating!), and talking about generally unrepeatable funny things. The food was great, but neither of us came close to finishing. Then, as we drove home with our Styrofoam containers, we discussed how excited we were to get home and go to bed! (Ah, the joys of getting older!).

I noticed tonight the things I find fun are both the same (like dining out, being immature, laughing with my husband) as before and yet different (like talking about our daughter, looking forward to sleep, leaving a good tip, being 100% sober when drinking life). I like to think I've matured, but not gotten "old".

Although last night I went to bed at 7:30 and woke up at 6:30. That's 11 hours. And I woke with this great sense of victory - "11 hours: YES!!" But... I mean... that's all the more time to dream crazy dreams. So, like, sleep can be an adventure of sorts, too, right? Right. Lets go with that.

2008-12-26T07:46:00.010-06:00

This Christmas season was - I think - one of the best.

Our tree - a real one we chose together - is beautiful. Our house has been relatively clean all month. Zig's family Christmas - celebrated early due to his folks' vacation, was really nice. The candle light Christmas eve service at our church, TAC, was both meaningful and breathtaking.

Finally, yesterday - Christmas - was fantastic. My family get together was somehow free of the stress and fighting that so often accompanies the gathering of family of intelligent but opinionated and somewhat high-strung individuals in a crowded environment of camera flashes and chaos. I actually don't mind the usual stress, but it was nice to find it absent. I was reminded of how intensely I love this family of mine, of how uniquely wonderful my parents, my siblings, and their spouses are. My 6 year old niece was sweet and happy, and even my parents' large dog Raven was fairly relaxed. The food was perfect and the company even better than the food. Boy I love Christmas.

This morning, I woke up under my new bedding (a Christmas gift from my Mom), threw on my soft, warm, red housecoat (from my Mother in Law), and thought - it's a beautiful new day. I carried my perfect little girl - surprisingly awake after her busy and highly overstimulating Christmas - down the stairs and let her have some play time with her new toy fruit, musical chair, Elmo doll, and Push Popper, as I brewed some Starbucks Christmas Blend (a gift from my sister and brother in law), put in my new Taylor Swift CD (from my brother and sister-in-law) and had some left-over waffles with strawberries. Christmas is definitely NOT about gifts - not even a little bit - but I must admit, I am enjoying mine today.

Later today when Rachel is sleeping, I plan to try out my deliciously scented new shower gel (part of a larger gift from a close friend of mine) and then perhaps finish the novel Zig got me, authored by - get this - HUGH LAURIE. Yep, the sexy Dr. House. Zig knows I'm a huge Hugh fan, and when he found that novel, he figured I'd be stoked. Correct! Great literary fiction it may not be, but so far, it is a pretty interesting read and - literary merit aside, it's author makes it worth reading, anyway. My other sister-in-law (Zig's sister) gave my a gift cert. from Starbucks and my mom-in-law gave me a gift cert to the mall, so I may venture out tomorrow for some shoe shopping and coffee.

By far, though, I think my most exciting selfish moment (in terms of the shallow theme of presents) came on Christmas morning, when all my presents had been opened (including the warmest, silliest mittens ever and a BEAUTIFUL laptop bag for a future laptop I planned on saving up for and getting maybe in February or on my Birthday in May), and Zig sent me downstairs for knife to open one of Rachel's presents. As I opened the office door, I discovered one more brightly wrapped box. It had my name on it. Heart pounding, I ran up the stairs with package, wild hopes and guesses flying through my mind. I sat down obediently on the couch so Zig could get a couple of pics, and then tore it open. If you haven't guessed what it is, I'm using it right now. To write this post. My beautiful, pink and silver, dream-come-true, dell laptop. I can't believe it. Zig expected me to scold him for going over our $70 cap or to ask where the money came from or how we would pay for it. I said no such things. In fact, these things didn't even cross my mind until he mentioned it later. No - money shmoney - I have my own laptop at last. And it's exactly what I would have chosen for myself, only more beautiful because it was a gift from the man I love and a surprise on my favourite day of the year.

...Uh, but like I said, Christmas totally isn't about presents. But, I mean, they're nice though. (Sigh). I sound so materialistic sometimes. Especially when enjoying the physical comforts material gives. But I started this post with the joys of family... That has to count for SOMETHING, right?

One of those calls...

2008-12-23T10:50:00.005-06:00

So, here's what happened.... Life was crazy/busy, time was short - hence, little to no blogging. Then, when time was available again, this blog became like one of those calls to one of those friends you haven't called in too long... and then you think of calling them but don't know exactly what to say... because, you know, you don't have a great excuse for waiting so long, plus it may be awkward because so much time has past, plus you don't know if they'll be angry at you for not calling for so long, plus you wonder - it's been so long already - what's a few more days?... then, you wonder if you should bother calling at all...

Yeah, this blog has become kind of like that call.

The other day, I found these two friends (sisters) on facebook I haven't spoken to in 8 or 9 years. We hadn't had a falling out or anything. They were long time friends of mine when we were kids, then they moved away to Quebec - but we kind of kept in touch. When I got married, they were candle lighters in my wedding. The next year, Zig and I went to visit them in Quebec. After that, I don't think we spoke again. A number of years ago, I started thinking of them again, but no longer had their phone number or address. So I googled them - to no avail (partially because I didn't quite know the exact spelling of their French last name. I'm bad enough at spelling in English!) -

Well, I was browsing through facebook the other day (procrastinating from this blog - you know - because it had already been so long) - and I found them! So, I added them to my friends and sent a message to each. I wonder now if they'll reply or if they'll think too much time has passed.

And I wonder also, HAS too much time passed? What is the value of rekindling old friendships, anyway? Often I decide, of course, there IS no value.

But I really loved these girls. So - I tossed my hat into the ring, so to speak (can I use that expression in this context?) and am waiting to see what happens.

ANYWAY, so - that's my long overdue post. Oh, and Merry Christmas. I expressly ignored the copyright warning on Zig's blog (you know - the one saying not to steal his pictures because they're HIS) and downloaded the family Christmas card picture he took and designed so I too could post it here. After all, I'm the star of the photo anyway. Well, me and Rachel. :)

Hope you and yours have a very, very Merry Christmas - full of meaning, love, and togetherness - and a hopeful, happy New Year.

Alyssa

Driving

2008-11-27T21:07:00.003-06:00

Sometimes, I love driving. Out on the highway on cool summer mornings, surrounded by golden wheat fields and the music from my radio. Tires gripping the pavement confidently and hands comfortably on my wheel, I am one with the car and the world.

Most of the time, though, I hate driving. Driving through the crowded city transforms me into a seething, angry, irrational vessel of rage. From the grandpa slowing down the traffic flow, to the idiot tailgating me in some unfruitful effort to make me exceed the limit (as well as somehow move those other vehicles in front of me), to the blonde doing her makeup while texting her boyfriend, to the inexplicable failure for ANYBODY to obey any of the traffic laws, to the inevitable fact that I will ALWAYS choose the wrong lane - city driving makes me crazy.

Winter highway driving is no better. While city driving fills me with irritation, winter highway driving fills me with fear. And I'm not talking about a little nervous flutters here. I'm talking about white-knuckled, dry mouthed, wide-eyed, sweaty, shaking, all-consuming terror. The sudden loss of traction, the sheer ice, that familiar feeling of my vehicle beginning to slide, the
big Mack trucks blowing by and throwing snow up onto my windshield, the white fog that seems to encase every vehicle on the road, the unmistakable understanding that I am NOT completely in control of my world.

And NIGHT winter highway driving - take all the horror of a daytime ice-drive and add to it zero visibility and the very real possibility of a collision with a beautiful but dangerously solid deer on the road - ... Well, I try to stay off the highways at night, whenever possible.

If I were exceedingly wealthy, I believe I would hire a driver - one very skilled and perhaps dashingly handsome - to drive me around.

I hate hating driving.

For my funeral...

2008-11-24T11:29:00.008-06:00

My Grandma died a short while ago. It was weird, and sad, and surprisingly unexpected, despite the fact that she was not eating, bed ridden, and 91 years old. She was so - alive - independent - and a regular part of our lives.

She wanted to be cremated, and my Mom - although not crazy about the idea - honoured her wishes. While planning the funeral, she called me to discuss flower choices. Would Grandma Beth have wanted such-and-such? And I thought: how strange it is that after we are gone, the business of saying goodbye involves obituaries, music selection, greenery arrangements, burial plots, and wooden boxes. Our lives summed up in the Saturday Paper and a single church service.

Of course, this led me - naturally - to think about my own eventual, inevitable, passing. We all move on from this place, after all. Not that I'm in any hurry. I know I have an eternal home waiting for me, but as busy and hectic and full of trials as this life is, I like it. No, I love it. Really, really love it. But... but, I believe we don't have as much control over our time here as we'd like to think, and so to admit the end will come is simply realistically practical, not (as many claim) just depressingly morbid.

So, in my ponderings, I came up with this;

When I go, I'd like - if possible - roses at my funeral. Red ones, perhaps, or white. Maybe fire-and-ice- roses, those ones with red on the inside and white on the outside. Or, if we're on a budget, maybe a single white or red rose to adorn my casket. And I don't have any preference on the casket, just for the record. Something not too expensive, I suppose.

I'd like the gospel message - the one about God's unfailing love and salvation, please - preached at my funeral. I'd like my friends to hear - at least one last time - the most important message out there. Far more important than how fabulous a person I was (because that, I assume, everyone will already know).

I'd like a few uplifting hymns. People planning can choose their favourites, I guess. I really like Amazing Grace though. I like some of the modern 'heaven' songs too, like "when I get where I'm going".

I'd like whoever is planning it to know, though, that whatever they choose to do will be just fine with me. I'll be in a much better place anyway, and truly won't mind. And I want them to take comfort in the fact that I would want them to enjoy life after I'm gone - to love it here even though I won't anymore. Oh, and whatever they write for the obituary - I'm good with that, too.

What I'd like most of all, though, is for people to know that I loved them. If they think I might have, but aren't quite sure, I want them to know it is safe to assume that I did, genuinely. I want them to know that I thought about them in quiet moments and in the midst of busyness, prayed for them, and loved them. Friends I neglected I never stopped loving and friends who I took for granted, I valued them more than I showed. My family shaped who I was and I loved each member deeply. My Mom and Dad's Godly example, unfailing support, and unconditional love showed me, through their actions and words - who I was in God's eyes and that I was valued and of great worth. My sister and brother - both so wonderfully different - enriched my life through their friendship, their views on this life, and their very presence in mine. My husband filled my life with fun, passion, and adventure, and hi's loving arms were always a safe and warm haven. My precious daughter was what made life the richest of all. The only thing that makes the thought of leaving all these people I love so intensely bearable is my relationship with Jesus. That, and the promise that one day - if they know him too - we can all meet again in a sweeter place.

These are the thoughts I think when I face my grandma's passing.

Okay, so maybe a little morbid.

So, here are some random thoughts -

2008-11-22T23:08:00.002-06:00

1) I broke one of the shift keys on the keyboard tonight. It was sticking, so I was wondering if there was something stuck underneath, so I just thought I'd pull it up to have a look. I guess I was picturing it being attached like my old keyboard, back in the day, when the keys would just pop off... apparently, not the case anymore. It looks like I broke some little wirey things... anyway, I've made things worse... I have to say, not entirely my fault - I mean, I broke it because it was broken already... I was only trying to help... Anyway, I have a feeling Zig is going to blame our exchange student, unless I remember to confess before that conversation takes place. I probably won't.

2) The enter key seems to not be working properly either. That one is NOT my doing.

3) Speaking of forgetting things (well, I was in #1) I've been forgetting everything lately. In fact, I have a period of about 30 minutes a few nights ago that's a complete blank to me. I think it's a combination of stress and lack of sleep, although I'm not quite sure. It's weird though. And frustrating, too. I mean, I'm naturally really absent minded, but this is getting ridiculous.

4) I don't think anyone loves Hamlet like I do. It's so fabulous.

5) Sometimes I marvel at how the inner me is so very different from the outer me. Inside, I'm so full of energy and life, creativity, vitality, health, passion, thought, motion - and outside, I'm just - well - just completely exhausted. And it makes me kind of sad. Because I'll think of all these ambitious goals and wild ideas, but at the same time, know very well that I'll feel a deep sense of accomplishment if I simply manage to get some papers marked.

6) I'm thinking of starting a blog dedicated just to my adventures in teaching. But I have a feeling that falls into the category of ambitious goals just not going to happen.

7) I bought shampoo yesterday because it smelled like happiness and was only $2.50. Happiness for 2.50? What a deal!! When I used it today, I discovered that it was only $2.50 because it is kind of sucky in the quality department. I decided I don't really mind though. After all, it smells like happiness, and some mornings, that's the most important thing anyway.

Speaking Skills

2008-10-21T12:48:00.003-05:00

So, it's the last class of the day yesterday, and I'm teaching grade 9 ELA. I'm writing notes for them on the whiteboard, and as I finish up, I realize the last part is very tiny along the bottom of the board. So, what I intend to say is - if this is too low for you to read, I can dictate it. Instead, I say "If you're too high to read this..." followed, of course, by student laughter. I try again: "If you can't read this because you're too high..."

I pick up a coffee on my way home.

Film Friday

2008-10-17T08:52:00.004-05:00

So, it's Friday, and theoretically time for another film review. The thing is, though, I can't think of a film I'd especially like to talk about. Sure, I've seen some this week. But have I anything to say about them? Indeed I do not. I am at a loss. SO, here's what we'll do. If you think of a flick you'd like me to view and review -within reason, of course - drop me a line (via email or comment) and I'll give it a go.

Until next time, happy viewing!

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving

2008-10-13T09:19:00.007-05:00

So, it's the Thanksgiving weekend. Usually, we celebrate at Zig's parents' on the Sunday, my parents' on Monday - with Turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie with whipped cream. It's a time of good food, family, celebration, and thankfulness. This year, it will still be a time of good food, family, celebration, and thankfulness - but taking a very different format. Due to busyness, Zig's family has postponed Thanksgiving to a later - yet to be announced - date. And my family, due to a number of things (primarily, also, busyness) has decided to skip the traditional turkey and instead celebrate with Chinese food, and to combine this Thanksgiving with the annual family birthday celebration. Which means, I suspect, we will be having the traditional ice cream birthday cake rather than pumpkin pie.

This is a truly unusual thanksgiving, and I know it will feel different without the traditional fare, but I do love love love LOVE Chinese food and ice cream cake, so I think I can make the mental adjustment needed to get into the spirit. And we'll undoubtedly have turkey with Zig's family down the road a little.

Besides, it's not the food that makes thanksgiving special, anyway - at least, not for me. It is, instead, the perfect opportunity to spend time with my family and to remember all the many things I'm thankful for.

On that note, here are 10 things I'm thankful for at this moment in time:

1) My beautiful daughter, Rachel.
2) A sexy and sweet husband
3) Parents who raised me to love others and myself
4) My wonderfully different siblings
5) An awfully cute dog
6) A safe and warm home
7) A job I love
8) Friends!!!
9) This country and the right to vote
10) Chinese food

Happy Thanksgiving!

Film Friday

2008-10-10T12:30:00.001-05:00

My Take on: The Love Guru

When I saw the preview of this Mike Myers comedy, I knew - immediately - it would be full of low-brow, tasteless, slapstick, so-called humour. I groaned as the teaser showed clip after clip of painful puns and eye-rolling sight gags. I vowed I would never desperate enough for entertainment to watch this movie. I was wrong.

And, as I suspected, it was ridiculously juvenile. Potty humour, crude stereotypes, body gags, dirty-sounding names, piteously poor acting (despite the role by Justin Timberlake, who I secretly LOVE in movies) and laaaame writing. But to be quite honest, I laughed. A lot. I have no idea why I found this movie funny - it really wasn't... but... somehow... perhaps paired with the mood I was in or the people I was with, it just kind of... was. And, while bizarre, offensive, and completely inappropriate, it was also even a little sweet. Would I watch it again? Nooooooo. Would I recommend it? Definitely not - quite the opposite, in fact. But did I enjoy it? Well... yes, yes I really did. Nevertheless, I'll have to give this movie 2 stars out of 5.

My 5 What-Ifs

2008-10-08T22:00:00.001-05:00

So, I stole this idea from Zig's blog. Here's my 5 "ifs".

If I was rich: I would totally live in upscale suburbia and have a maid, a personal chief, a personal trainer and - wait for it - a sweeet minivan. Zig has forbidden me to ever buy one, but I love them, and I figure if I was rich, Zig would buy some silly sports car and so feel comfortable enough in his youth and masculinity to allow a minivan into the family. :) Oh yeah, soccer mommery, here I come.

If I could pick a super-power of my choice: I would pick flying. I would LOVE to fly. I thought about choosing to the power to hear people's thoughts, but I realized rather not know what people are thinking, thank-you-very-much. And I also thought about being able to be invisible, and although that could be really - reaaaallly - entertaining, again - I really don't want to overhear things I don't want to know. It's bad enough using the public washroom at my school and bring accidentally privy to private girl convos - I can only imagine that invisibility would have the same consequences.

If I had to choose to watch only one TV show for an entire year - as in, every channel would only play one TV show: I think I would pick the Highlander series. I know it's over now, and that in many ways it was pretty cheesy, but I often found it had interesting points to make, watchable storylines, self-contained episodes, and pretty great characters. Although I might also pick Road to Avonlea, Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, or GI Joe. Or Maybe I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight.

If I had to pick one thing to tell the "youth of today" that they would actually listen to: I'd tell them that what they do matters. How they treat one another, what they listen to, what decisions they make- these things are important. Make good choices, love other people, and treat themselves with respect. They are valuable and important, and have the power to affect the world around them.

If I had to pick a place to wake up tomorrow morning I would choose to wake up in a luxury hotel suite somewhere beautiful, warm, and safe, with my husband and my daughter. While my little girl slept-in, room service would bring my husband and I our breakfast, and we'd start the day out with a dip in the jacuzzi and deluxe coffee on the balcony.

Speaking of waking up in the morning - it's time for me to get ready for bed and hopefully get some sleep! Have a great night, you!

My Car and I

2008-10-07T22:28:00.002-05:00

So, here's a confession: I love to speed. Now, let me qualify that a little. I love to speed - a little, when I'm alone in the car, on the Trans Canada highway, with little to no other cars around, in the Fall. There's something that just feels good about flying down the highway with the music cranked, surrounded by the vibrant colours of the wheat fields and falling leaves.

Ideologically, I'm opposed to speeders, and when I catch myself, I slow it down, too. In fact, I find myself making more of a conscious effort these days. But... but... I do like it. I can't wait until they bump the speed of that highway from 100 to 110. Of course, I'll still be going 60 or 70 when it's iced.

I'm not looking forward to winter.

:)

2008-10-06T22:00:00.002-05:00

Hey, readers! Sorry I've been away - I know my last two posts made me sound a little sad, but I haven't been neglecting you in favour of a depressed funk. Neither, surprisingly enough, was my brief absence due to a lack of ideas - I have a few of them bouncing around this head of mine. No, the missing posts for the last few days have been due to time and opportunity, plain and simple. On Thursday and Friday I was away from school at a Professional Development Conference , where we heard from Gordon Neufeld (GREAT speaker, by the way - great ideas for teaching but even better ideas about parenting - wrote "Hold on to your kids" - I highly recommend it, parents!) and then the weekend found me busy busy busy with kid birthdays, weddings, Sunday School, and a rather under-the-weather little girl. She has a terrible cold, my poor baby.

Today started me out pretty busy already, but fairly productive. I'm looking forward to getting some organizing of my desk done tomorrow. And feeding my little fish. I still haven't introduced him to you yet! One of these days, one of these days.

Caring

2008-10-01T12:56:00.005-05:00

So, I made a statement to a Christian collegue of mine about something utterly terrible that is weighing on me - out of desperation, perhaps, or a need to talk. Her response was vague and disinterested - "yeah, that can be tough" - or some such thing. And I realized that would be the response of any of my collegues - all Christians here at this school.

It didn't surprise me, but it did bother me. Not really because it was dismissive (and it was) and a little hurtful (that too) - No, it mostly bothered me because I think that response - busy, detached and uninterested - can be typical of the church body. Many times, we don't really care, not really, not genuinely. And it also made me think - no wonder people are turned off of the church. How often do we who represent Christ care - genuinely, honestly, actively, about the suffering of other people? How often do we show interest in the problems of the people around us - when not motivated by the great commision? If you're not trying to "save" someone, do you still stop to care about them?

My "nonChristian" - or less "spiritually" involved - friends are often far more caring and selfless than those I know are Christians. Sometimes they are less helpful in advice because we don't have the same eternal outlook, but they are, at least, offering it. Christians can be strangely silent when it comes to truely caring about the needs of people around them. Perhaps this is because we are so focused on sharing the gospel with people that we forget about the people themselves.

This isn't to say Christians don't care. But as a body of believers, are we really interested - really - in the needs of those around us, both in the church and outside of it? Are we interested in the physical and emotional needs, as well as the spiritual? If not, we should be.

As terrible as it sounds, I often prefer the company of my nonspiritual friends because I find them more genuine and - as goes the theme of this post - genuinely caring. The question this begs is - what about the rest of the world? If the caring within the secular community holds more appeal to me, does it to neighbour, your friend, your family member as well?

God is love. Are we?

Retraction

2008-09-29T09:28:00.003-05:00

I wrote a sad post just now, momentarily posted it, then promptly deleted it. It's Monday morning. Who needs depressed musings on a Monday? I'll try to think of something less "poor me" to post later. But no guarantees.

Film Friday

2008-09-26T13:46:00.004-05:00

Burn After Reading

I know I should, as someone who professes to love film, embrace this quirky Coen brothers' movie. After all, it offers a brilliantly hilarious performance by Brad Pitt as well as excellently eccentric roles by the likes of George Cloony, Frances McDormand, George Malkovich, Tilda Swinton, and others. It's funny, interesting, and unique, and has cinematic elements that any true film buff should really enjoy. The plot-scripting, the filming, the dialogue, and the acting leaves nothing to be desired - all are quite effectively done.

However, to be perfectly honest - and perhaps this admission will discredit me, but here it is nevertheless- I did not enjoy this viewing experience. I found the "funny" violence and course language distracting and disturbing (and I'm a fairly desensitized movie-goer), and the so-called resolution even less amusing. The characters were all equally unlikable and in terms of any thought-provoking offerings - there were slim pickings. I felt like, although this film was undeniably well done, I wanted those 2 hours (give-or-take) of my life back.

So, perhaps I will give this film two different ratings. For its artistic merit, I'll give it 4 stars out of 5. For viewing experience, I'll leave it with a 2. I just didn't like it.

5 Thoughts on the Upcoming Election

2008-09-24T12:56:00.008-05:00

1) I know I'm going to vote, even though I hate all of the choices. I've been raised with this irritating sense of civic responsibility, to make an educated vote and to use our democratic process - such as it is.

2) As I said, I hate all of the choices. Lets be honest: nobody is really going to make things any better without causing some damage as well. Improvements always come with sacrifice, and no party leaves the country unscathed. The question is never really who will do the most good, but rather, who will do the least harm (or will best balance the gains with the losses)

3) There is no "religiously correct" choice to make. Lets be honest here: no main Canadian party is going to make any great stand for any particular religion. Despite the religious ideals party members may publicly hold, most of those issues are not actually on the table at all. You may agree with moral statements made by your party of choice, but it is more than likely that those statements will not greatly effect how they govern this country - nor do most promise it will.

4) The good thing about a majority government is that they can make actual changes. The bad thing is that they can make actual changes. (See #2 for more detail).

5) I am still undecided as to who I will vote for in this election. Clear and concise information about what a party is promising is not easy to come by. For the most part, the parties seem to be relying on smear campaigns and fear-mongering, both of which seem counterproductive for the thinking voter. Although many people will vote for the party for which they've always voted, there must be enough people who want to make an informed decision- otherwise, we wouldn't have elections that change the governing party - which we do.

So to the Canadian Political Parties, I bring this simple request: Convince me - not of the other parties' weaknesses, but of your strengths. Because right now, I'm just trying to figure out the lesser of the evils. And having a heck of a time.

Only me

2008-09-22T08:38:00.002-05:00

Okay, so I'm leaving work on Thursday, and my principal stops me on my way out. He looks uncomfortable. Oh oh.

"Alyssa", he says, slightly hesitantly, "we need to have a chat before you go". Double oh-oh. I know "chat" is never really a good thing in this context. My mind is racing. I'm trying to remember everything I did this week, and more importantly, everything I did wrong. I have been leaving my keys in the staffroom. I did say the word "crap" in my grade 12 class (although I really don't think it's a swear!). My presenter did reference the"Song of Songs". And I forgot to do attendance a couple of times already.

He takes a breath and begins. "The custodians have asked me - nicely - to speak with you." The custodians? My classroom! Maybe I haven't been erasing the board. Leaving my desk too messy. Moving the garbage pail? "Well..." (here it comes) "you tend to drag your feet when you walk..." Ohhhhh. He looks more uncomfortable. ..."and you're leaving black marks on the floors." Groan. As he sensitively (and with as much tact as possible in this situation) explains that it takes them quite some time to scrub them off, I can see why he looks uncomfortable - he has to tell a grown woman to pick up her feet!

I don't blame him - or the custodians, either. On Friday at 4, after unsuccessfully trying to remember not to shuffle, I spent some time rubbing the numerous black marks off the floor with my thumb. It was a pain.

Sometimes I feel like a child. I don't think this is what is meant by the phrase "young at heart."

Lesson here: Parents, teach your kids things when they're little, even if it means stifling them a little. Make them cover their mouths when they yawn and say thank you when someone holds the door for them. And please - please - don't let them get away with sloppy walking. It may just make for embarrassing conversations later on.

Film Friday: And the Award for Worst Popular Epic Goes To...

2008-09-19T14:48:00.011-05:00

Pearl Harbour

There are some movies out there which are so beautiful, so moving, so poignant, they take my breath away. Then there are those that aren't, and don't.

One such movie, according to this critic, is - and please don't hate me - Pearl Harbour.

This denial of greatness in a movie so widely loved by so many is going to, I know, create angry - no, furious - readers, and for this, I am sorry. But - despite it's glorious patriotism, sweeping panoramic views of majestic landscapes, riveting battle scenes, and undeniably romantic love story, the movie is simply- and here it is - poorly scripted, poorly acted, and altogether poorly executed.

From its predicable story line, to its clearly manipulative soundtrack, to its tacky voice-overs backed by (no joke) a large flag gently waving in the breeze, nearly everything about this movie irritates me. I feel like it is an affront to my intelligence: everything, including its message, is spelled out in capital letters.

And nobody seems to be able to pull off an altogether believable performance in this film, including usually competent actors. Dialogue - not great to begin with - is made worse by wooden delivery and muted, dull expressions.

I understand why this movie is a hit, I do - but (and please forgive me for this) I just cannot buy into this poor excuse for a romantic historical epic. No matter how many times I am forced to watch it.

1 1/2 stars out of 5.

:)

Bad Photos

2008-09-18T09:37:00.005-05:00

Why is it sometimes in pictures I appear to be the fabulous me I feel like inside, and sometimes like an old, chubby, stranger?

Someone recently posted a picture of me and I swear, I don't feel anything like the person in the photo. THAT person has wrinkles around her eyes, blotchy skin, and - embarissingly enough - kind of a double chin. But in other recent pictures of myself - pictures I've selected to keep - I look as young as I feel, a good 8 pounds lighter (not quite ten, not as little as 5), and ... well... just prettier. And I wonder - which is the true image? Neither have been doctored, neither have any special effects - both are representations of my appearence.

Perhaps both are true, and neither. Lighting and makeup (or lack thereof), angle and time of day - all things enter into how I appear in pictures. I suppose that's why I prefer to keep only the pictures I like - because these are how I choose to see myself, and the way I want to encourage others to remember me later. Am I fooling myself? Perhaps.

But sometimes, truth is overrated.

The inconviniences of coffee-drinking

2008-09-16T15:05:00.003-05:00

Today I almost peed my pants. Seriously. Twice.

And not because anything was funny. Almost peeing yourself with laughter is great - happiness is always a good excuse for near-pee experiences. But for me it's been a combination of busyness and laziness. Busy doing stuff at my desk (marking and planning) and lazy at the thought of walking to the washroom. And I hate the interruption when I'm on a roll. But twice now, mid-sentence, I've realized if I don't go NOW, I'm going to "go" NOW. And both times, I seriously just made it. A moment later, and I would have had to lock myself in my classroom for the rest of the day.

Yeeesh.

Toilet Troubles and other Complaint Conundrums

2008-09-15T09:00:00.000-05:00

I hate it when something isn't working properly and there's nothing to be done. No, actually I hate it when something isn't working properly and something could be done if there was any way to prove something really wasn't working properly.

Like the toilets at my school. It's always a crapshoot (pardon the pun) as to whether or not it will flush. It doesn't matter which of the four toilets in one bathroom or the 3 in the other that you use - sometime it will flush like nobodies' business (so to speak), and other times - nope! It either gives a half-nod to the idea of flushing ... you know, giving you false hope as the water starts to swirl or - on occasion - do nothing at all. With girls, even "pee" requires toilet paper, and the idea of leaving it behind for the next user is - well - for most of us girls - a little uncomfortable. Not to mention if it's the OTHER. Adolescence is hard enough without THAT becoming a concern for the students. And for me... well, I share their bathroom, and.. the truth is, I don't want students to think I don't flush the toilet!!! It's a horrifying possibility, and a real one at that, since on any given day it seems like at least a couple of toilets are doing the no-flushing routine. And in a day, the problem toilet seems to switch periodically.

Tell someone, you think? Who to tell -and more importantly - what to tell them? That sometimes different toilets don't flush? What can the custodian possibly do with such a vague, unprovable complaint? My theory? Nothing.

Speaking of unsolvable, unprovable complaints - my computer at school seems to hate me, but in such a sneaky way nobody believes me. Here's the problem: Every morning when I sign in, it rejects the first password I enter - saying it's the wrong password - but the second time lets me in. EVERY TIME. I guarantee I don't mistype that password wrong once every morning. I've even taken to carefully - one letter at a type - type in the password, only to be rejected, and then without changing anything, type it in again and be let in. But of course people are convinced I'm simply mistyping it the first time. YES, I say, I HAVE checked the cap lock. YES, the num lock too. NO, I'm not hitting two keys at once. But, again- how to prove it? I'm not allowed to tell anyone my password, and so how can I prove I'm typing it correctly. I know some of you readers will be thinking - well, have you checked this and that? Whatever you're referring to - YES.

Kind of like that noise the car makes when only you drive it or the printer that jams only for your documents. A haunting, of sorts. Or maybe just really - consistently - bad luck!!

Film Friday

2008-09-12T08:59:00.000-05:00

What Happens in Vegas

So, this movie, about a couple who gets married "accidentally" in Vegas, wins 3 million dollars and spends the next six months trying to drive the other one crazy in order to get the cash,was exactly what you'd expect from a romantic comedy starring Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz - only waaaaay funnier and far, far sweeter.

I laughed during this movie - a lot - and also teared up more than once. Ashton - not normally my cup of tea - is perfectly, irritatingly delicious, and consistently delivering impeccable timing. Cameron too was ideal for her paradoxical character, a career women who is tough-as-nails, high-strung, and at the same time completely soft, feminine, and breathtakingly sexy.

Although What Happens in Vegas is, indeed, a cookie-cutter, "anyone could-have-totally-wrote-this -plot" movie, it is unexpectedly entertaining, freakin funny and - surprisingly - genuinely romantic. I knew I'd enjoy this movie, but I had no idea I'd love it. 4.5 stars out of 5.

Lesson Learned!

2008-09-10T08:53:00.002-05:00

So, Zig gave me 20 bucks cash yesterday and told me I needed gas. I took that 20 bucks, put it in my purse, and - due to a usually hectic morning - had a look at the nearing empty needle and decided it could wait until I was on my way home after school.

After school, I was anxious to pick up my little girl and had just passed the last gas station in the town I teach in, when I realized I had forgotten to stop for gas. I looked at the gauge - the empty light had just come on - and decided I could make it.

DOH!! Almost back in the city, ahead of schedule, I looked at the gauge, looked up at the turning ramp I was about to enter, and knew I was in trouble. Sure enough, as my car began the incline, so did its last breaths. It sputtered its way up onto the perimetre, and then, ever so gracefully along the shoulder of the rode, came to a stop. Eventually Zig picked up Rachel, got some gas, and rescued me from my stranded misery. (While waiting, I asked Zig if it was okay for me to listen to the car radio or if that would drain the battery. Zig said I was better safe then sorry and should leave it off. And, he added, that would give me time to think about what I had done.)

So, I enter today a little wiser than before. Lesson Learned. Fumes alone, my friends, are not enough for a Ford Focus to function.

Morning Trips

2008-09-09T09:00:00.000-05:00

My morning:

At home:

Grabbed Rachel, her lunch, my lunch, my purse, and the keys, and exited house.

Looked at closed Garage. Returned to house for opener.

After backing out of the garage, realized I needed to return the garage door opener. Returned to house and left it for Zig.

In car again, realized forgot Rachel's sippy cup. Returned to house for it.

About to back out of driveway, realized I couldn't find sunglasses. Returned to house to look for them. No luck. Found them later in car, under front seat.

At school:

In classroom, noticed fish looked a little weak. Remembered new fish food in car. Grabbed my coffee cup for the walk and returned to car.

At car, realized I didn't bring the right key. Returned to classroom, grabbed the key, returned to car.

At car, couldn't find fish food. Went back to my classroom defeated. In class, realized I forgot my coffee cup in my car. Returned to car for coffee cup.

At car, realized I forgot my key again. Back to classroom for key, then returned to car for coffee cup, then back to classroom.

At least I'm getting some exercise.

All kinds of crazy

2008-09-08T08:08:00.003-05:00

I'm a people pleaser. This, my friends, is never a good thing. Although "pleaser" sounds nice, in reality, it just makes me do even crazier things than I would naturally - and really, even without the impulsive pleasing, I'm all sorts of crazy. (Obsessive and Paranoid are a few traits that friends may say I occasionally exhibit, as well as having virtually no verbal filter).

People pleasing causes me to do a number of things, like be a "yes girl" even when the request is quite impossible, or take the blame for something I didn't do - or other silly things. But on Saturday, I crossed the line.

Before I tell you this story, let me give you some background. My daughter, who is 13 months old, broke her leg three weeks ago. It's what they call a "toddler fracture", resulting from - they think - an unwitnessed fall (which in this case is not possible, since I was with her the night it happened) or a load-bearing accident, like simply standing funny. But, regardless of how the break happened, she's been in a little cast for the last three weeks.

Okay, so I was standing in the line at McDonalds, with Rachel in a stroller in front of me, when a woman in the next line looks over and commences conversation:

Woman: Aww...she's in a cast

Me: (thinks to myself - "duh") and says, patting Rachel's head: yep.

Woman: Has she had surgery?

Me: Nope! Just a cast.

Woman: Yeah, my little one was in a cast like that from two months until 9 months.

Me: (makes a sympathetic noise) Mmmm.

Woman: Yeah, I hated it when people asked how she broke it! I always told them - look how little she is! Obviously she didn't break it! It's to correct the problem she was born with.

Me: (not liking where this conversation is headed). Mmmm hmmm.

Woman: It's ridiculous when people assume she broke it. I mean, how can a little one like this break their legs? For my daughter, it was the way she was positioned in my womb. You know, her legs jammed under my ribs. But you know how it is. I just hate that.

Me: Mmm hmmm. Yeah. (Seeing now that she has assumed my daughter has clearly NOT broken a leg and that this must be a corrective cast... And not knowing how to tactfully tell her that my daughter actually DID break a leg.) Me too.

Woman: So, who's your doctor?

Me: (in a bit of a panic) uh... my family doctor? Or my specialist. (thinking: I don't have a specialist... please don't ask me who my specialist is. Her leg is broken.)

Woman: The one helping to correct her leg.

Me: Uhhh.....

Women: Doctor so-and-so?

Me: Nooo...

Women: Doctor Black?

Me: (a light goes on!! That IS the doctor who put on her cast!!) YES!! (Exclaiming enthusiastically) YES, that's him!

Woman: Oh, he's a great specialist. Works in the same office as my daughter's specialist.

Me: (so relieved - I won't have to make a name up!) Yeah, he's really nice.

Woman: (looking at my daughter with a sympathetic smile) So, how old is she? About six months?

Me: (thinking: crap! How old are kids who get birth leg issues corrected? Is 13 months too old? Then, without hesitation and glancing fondly at my daughter) No - she's 8 months..

All kinds of crazy.

Film Friday: Slow Starts, Gold Finishes

2008-09-05T11:41:00.007-05:00

Today, I thought I'd talk about two of my favourite films. During both movies, I almost quit watching after 5 minutes. Both times, I was unspeakably glad I didn't. The first movie seemed too overexposed and "independent" in style, the other too bizarre to watch. But both proved my initial impressions off the mark and became films that make me think, feel, and want to watch again and again.

Pitch Black

This is, on the surface, a frightening sci-fi movie about being stranded with a group of strangers on an unknown planet, where terrifying creatures come out only at night - right when a virtually endless eclipse is about to take place. The tone is a mix between action and, at times, horror - although the gore is usually kept to a minimum (due in part to the unique filming of this movie). However, if you're really watching, it is also about other things truer to the human condition. Staring Vin Diesel at his angriest, sexiest, most volatile and complex, and with a plethora of interesting, excellent supporting cast, this movie is a thought-provoking story about sacrifice, forgiveness, and - ultimately - redemption. While I recommend this film only to older viewers - due to the frightening scenes and language (as well as some more difficult themes), I absolutely loved it, and give it a solid 4.75 stars out of 5.

Moulin Rouge

This movie has nothing in common with the Pitch Black other than the fact that both movies' beginnings were almost intolerable. It's a brightly-lit, lavishly costumed, fantastically decorated musical about love and loss - and whether it is better to have both or none at all. The musical numbers - much of them compilations or medleys of a variety of well known pop numbers - are catchy and beautiful. Whether the song is evoking sympathy, humour, or moving sadness, it is always sung just the way you'd like it, and breathtakingly choreographed. The cast is perfect for their roles, with Ewan McGregor being born for the part. Never have I liked him so much as an actor as I do when watching him perform here. Nicole Kidman is also fabulous and - as always - stunning. The rest of the cast (and I won't spoil it for you, but there are a number of well-known, amazing actors in this film) is fantastic and helps to make this movie as successful as it is. Although it is sad story, it is nearly perfect. 4.75 stars out of 5.

Some perspective

2008-09-04T09:06:00.004-05:00

So, I was having a bad day. Woke up on time, but between Rachel's morning nursing and the preparation of her lunch, I had no time for a shower and no time (again) for breakfast. I dropped her off at daycare, feeling sad, guilty, and LATE, and stopped at a convinience store to pick up a coffee (they had none!) and something for breakfast (a chocolate bar). Then, back on the road again, I was dismayed to find a long line up at an intersection where there usually IS no lineup. I was going to be turning right (at the yeild), but the line was so long I couldn't get into the turning lane. I waited, turned on my blinker, and pitied myself. I was having the worst day - and it had just started. Then, as the turning lane opened and I turned into it, I looked to see what the hold up was. There, some poor shmuck was standing beside his stalled car with a little red gas can, trying to fill it up enough to get his car sarted - as cars honked and traffic sped by.

Maybe I wasn't having the WORST day afterall. :) Thanks, guy.

5 things about me since my previous post:

2008-09-03T12:50:00.004-05:00

1) I missed last Friday's feature "film fridays" - I'm sorry. Here's a quickie: I don't like the movie "Music From Another Room" but I really can't see why. I barely remember it, but everytime someone comes over and picks up the case, I try to encourage them to keep it. No takers yet.

2) Rachel only has to wear her cast for one more week. WO-HOO!

3) We have two new family members. One is a so-far fabulous German exchange student. The other is a fish. I will introduce you tomorrow, perhaps. Or maybe the next day. But there's something for you to look forward to.

4) I've been absent from the bloggerverse since Monday. I will read ALL of my regular blogs today after putting Rachel to bed. And I have HIGH expectations.

5) I started my first day of student classes by forgetting to eat breakfast, running late, and having cramps. On the bright side, I pumped my OWN gas this morning (ohhh-yeaaah...) and the gas station coffee was deeeelicious!

So, hope your first half of the week has been awesome, all. I've gotta run now!

(Like, metaphorically run. Not literally).

I killed a fly and I liked it

2008-08-28T20:30:00.004-05:00

Okay, so I don't know what's with the flies these days, but they appear to be targeting me with a vengeance. I SWEAR, I'm showering on a regular basis - I am! - but they just seem to have it out for me. It started on Rachel's birthday weekend. Two little creeps snuck in, settled down, and made their home in my kitchen. Made their home there, but freely visited the other rooms of the house -any room with me in it. They were quick, too - buzzing around my head, darting to and fro. I found the thought of squishing them disgusting, though, because they're so solid - and the possibility of Fly goo was just nauseating. Of course, the irritation of the Fly dive-bombing outweighed the ick factor, so try to kill them I did! To no avail, of course. They always seemed one step ahead of me - and they were here to stay.

Then, other flies started stalking me outside, and recently one got into my car with me. THAT was an accident waiting to happen. There are few things as distracting and infuriating as a fly buzzing around your head when you're trying to drive. I finally shoo'd him out of the window, but not until I was near-crazy.

But today, someone reminded me of that old fly-killing trick. You wait till they land and then clap your hands directly above them. So this evening, I found one of the trouble-makers, watched him land peacefully on the counter, and then - BAM! Clapped my hands above him, and sure enough - contact! I cleaned up his lifeless fly body, had a moment of silence for him, and then rejoiced in victory! One down, one to go.

Watch out, flies! Your time of tyranny is at an end! (Insert war cry here)

Trying on Clothes

2008-08-27T13:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Bellyfat,

We need to talk. This relationship just isn't working for me, and - as much as I know this will hurt you - we just need to take a break.

It's really not your fault; it's mine.I haven't been honest with you, and that's not fair to either of us. You see, right from the beginning, I knew there were going to be serious difficulties between you and I. When I first met you - jr. high, I think - I was just learning who I was, who I wanted to be. I didn't really notice you at first - you were so shy, so subtle. My jeans were a little snugger, but I suspect all my swimming intimidated you, and you really didn't get too close. Then my early twenties hit, and you just moved in. I was surprised at how forward you were, and how insistent you were at sticking around. I tried to convince you to take it slow, but you refused - and diets became a regular in our dysfunctional relationship. Then, I discovered Aerobics (paired with Weight Watchers at first, then the Glycemic Index later on) - and we finally reached a compromise. I let you stay, but in return, you agreed to let some muscles move in with the two of us. And at last, I was happy. I could live with you, because you had finally given me my space. Sometimes, when you took up more room than the muscles, I enjoyed your softness for a sentimental while, then encouraged you to return to the shadows and let me converse with the muscles - and you actually listened!

Then, my favourite encounter with you. The long awaited conception of my little girl. You were celebrated! Evidence of the treasure within me, I loved you, bellyfat. Embraced you. And you proved my body was made for you, as you grew with no stretch marks at all. I thought afterwards we'd go back to our original agreement. But this, apparently, was not what you had in mind.

After Rachel was born, I discovered you'd kicked out the muscles completely - well, most of them (the most attractive ones, anyway). And then you settled in and made yourself comfortable. I tried not to resent you, tried to love you like I had in the past. But suddenly, shirts no longer fit me properly, and the tummy bump showing even under the large - too-big-everywhere-else t-shirts made trying on clothes an exercise in denial. Today, after countless wardrobe catastrophes (thanks to your pushy presence) - I realize we can't continue this way.

So - I'm doing what I should have done a long time ago. I'm telling the truth. And the truth is, I don't feel like you're cute and sweet and feminine - at least not in your current, selfishly singular appearance. No, I think you're a guest who has long since outstayed your welcome.

So, bellyfat - here it is: I'm bringing back some of the muscles, if I can. And I'm asking you - begging you - to.. well, to accept my feelings and to back off a little. To give me some space. Because - for pity's sake -I just can't go shopping like this!

Always,
A.

On Being a Mom and Having a Career

2008-08-25T08:00:00.002-05:00

I was once discussing with a few women, before I conceived, my desire for children but my love for my job. One of the women looked at me and, in a very matter-of-fact tone, told me, "well, you have to make a choice. Do you want to have a career or do you want to be a mom?"

This threw me for a loop. I mean, in some ways, I could definitely see her point - I was struggling about whether I would go back to work if I had a baby - but I realized later how off the mark she was.

My Mom worked full time while I was growing up, and I don't really think there could have been a better Mother. She was never "not there" for me - ever. She read me stories every night, had me enrolled in music, dance and swimming lessons, attended all my events and parent teacher nights, spent time every day listening to me and talking to me, and put us (her children) first - always. She was a strong moral compass while being compassionate and forgiving and she taught us to have confidence in ourselves. She also - without fail - helped me with my homework (and in fact re-taught me the material for classes I just wasn't understanding at school), drove me to extracurricular and social events, threw amazing birthday parties for me, and always made our home a welcoming environment for our friends. I never went through any "I don't like my parents" stage, and she was - and still is - my closest friend. I know of many stay-at-home moms (as well, of course, other Moms who do work outside of the home) who couldn't hold a candle to the love, time, energy, and devotion my mom spent on her kids. And what's more, because she worked - and worked at a fulfilling job - she was able to model to us the fact that a woman could be as educated as a man and that having a career that you cared about - and that made a difference (she was a grade 1 teacher) - could be rewarding and fun. She also had joy in her job, and modeled that just because you put others first (like I said, she always put her family before herself) didn't mean you couldn't also be fulfilled yourself. AND, she demonstrated that, despite what some people believe, you could indeed have a career AND be a Mom. The two things aren't mutually exclusive.

So, after some thought, I've decided I AM offended when people make it sound like you care less about your kids when you go back to work than if you stay home, and that stay-at-home moms are more giving, more caring, and generally better parents. Their homes may be cleaner, but I don't really think it makes you a better Mom. I don't. Now, this isn't to say I wouldn't like to stay home with Rachel if I had the opportunity; perhaps I would - but I'm not going to apologize for providing for my family or pretend I don't think I'll make just as good a parent as a stay-at-home Mom. Whether you stay at home with your kids or juggle a career, it comes down to how much you put into your children.

And what KILLS me is when people make the statement "I don't want someone else raising my kids, so I stay home." Really? Well,you must think they're grown up by the time they're six then, because in grade 1, they'll be at school during the day (if you plan to send them to public or private school).

... And what about working Dads? Would someone who thinks you can't be a mom and have a career (because of course you need to stay home to "raise your kids") not see the father as raising the kids too - even though he works during the day? I guess the kids are really raised by the Mom then... Dads are just... breadwinners? Donors? What, exactly? The reasoning is flawed.

It's not fair that women who work outside the home are considered less devoted then women who don't. From everything I've seen, it's just not true.

Anyway... So, Rachel started daycare last week. And YES, it felt terrible! I am suffering my fair amount of working-mommy guilt. But hopefully we'll both get used to it... until then, I make the most of my evenings and weekends with her!

My little girl and her broken bone - and thoughts on our Healthcare system

2008-08-24T07:00:00.000-05:00

I haven't said much about Rachel's leg because husband already wrote about it. But I thought I'd just add a little something. It feels terrible to take your little girl to the hospital with an undiagnosed problem. It feels just as bad to watch her get tests and x-rays. It feels just awful to hold her down while she gets a cast put on. And it's simply heartbreaking to watch her daily struggle to stand and not be allowed to let her, to feel her frustration at being immobile, to feel her discomfort at trying to sleep. But what feels good is knowing that she is getting care, that we live in a country that provides for people, and that we will be able to afford the treatment we need because of our Medicare system. Some people envy a pay-per-use system or a private system, where you get faster or better care when you can pay for it and where you aren't burdened with the heavy taxes of a public medical plan. But when you have an unemployed husband, a dwindling bank account, no insurance (due to maternity leave) and a baby that needs immediate and costly health care, you become acutely aware of just how great our country is. Yes, our health care system is terribly flawed. And yes, we need to pay our nurses and doctors more, give more public funding to the system, improve the way the funding is used, and seriously decrease wait times for alll procedures - but even with all its flaws, I'm so glad we have this system in place. I'm so thankful our girl can get the care she needs when she needs it, despite our lack of finances right now. I cried when my little girl got her cast - but at least she was able to get it!

Just another reason I love this country.

Film Friday

2008-08-22T22:09:00.005-05:00

It's been busy, so I haven't seen much in the way of good film. In fact, I haven't seen much of anything lately, other than a terrible movie I have too much self respect to name here.

Anyway, Friday's almost over - I thought it was Thursday for most of the day today - so here's a quick look at the unnamed film. If you can guess which one... well, there's no prize, since I'll never confess to seeing this particular film... but if you email me with your guess, I'll tell you if you're correct. Although not publicly, since - as stated - I just can't bring myself to admit to this particularly tasteless piece.

The Untitled

Well, this movie was fabulous - if you like slim storylines, gratuitous nudity, glorified drug use, silly impressions, and nonsensical plot sequences. Which I don't. Although there was a fairly amusing cameo from a well known tv star from a show long since canceled- playing himself - and some good stuff by another actor I enjoy from a different canceled tv show (but not playing himself), I found this film overly juvenile and at times simply annoying. It was a sequel, though, and since I chose not to see the original, I guess I got what I deserved. After seeing this movie, I think I walked away a little dumber - and in desperate need of a shower. Some people really liked this one, but I give it 1 star out of 5. But maybe I just don't have the right sense of humour - I'm not, after all, a twelve year old boy.

Don't you hate it when...

2008-08-21T10:50:00.000-05:00

...you buy/make some delicious coffee, but then get busy doing something and forget to drink it?
...you're talking to someone, but then get interrupted and forget what you were talking about, only to remember later when it's too late?
...you take the greatest picture, but then realize it's blurry and all the other ones that aren't blurry blow chunks?
...you have a phrase stuck in your mind - like blow chunks - and you can't wait to use it, but when you do you realize it's kind of gross?
...you have a song stuck in your head but can't really remember all the words?
...you spend all morning writing and reading blogs when you have, like, a zillion other things to get done?

Yeah, me too!

Olympic Heros

2008-08-20T09:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, so we may not be in first place in the Summer Olympics this year. In fact, we may not even be in 15th place. BUT, as of yesterday, we ARE in 17th place, out of 68 countries with medals so far. And you know what? That's fine with me - and I'm proud of us!

Yeah, China is in first place with 43 golds, and yes, the United States has the most medals (I believe your count is something like an amazing 79 medals so far) - but Canada, as a country with a comparatively smaller population than many and, more significantly, one which doesn't really invest in our athletes like we should- isn't doing too bad. I feel like our late coming, 17th place and 13 medal count is pretty decent, all things considered. We're twelfth in the medal count and our athletes are working hard and many are looking pretty great out there.

Sure, we don't have any Michael Phelps', but watching our 33 year old Simon Whitfield sprint from a distant fourth to win silver during the men's triathlon (Germany overtook him at the last minute for Gold!) was an amazing experience, and the show of such athleticism, stamina, and determination was simply breathtaking.

I'm proud of Canada AND of our athletes - and I can't wait to see what we'll do at the winter games in a few years. Maybe Zig and I will save up some money and go see some of it ourselves. But then again, watching the instant replay in slow motion is pretty great too.

Women and...

2008-08-19T09:21:00.008-05:00

...Secrets
Okay, so, here it goes - girls can't keep secrets. They just can't. Ladies, stop denying it. Before you decide you hate me and my dumb blog for making such an unjust statement, take a deep breath, think rationally (I know it's hard for us women - ha ha just kidding... really, I am... no, really...) - and think about the secrets you've been told. Be honest with yourself. Think back to the last time someone (especially another girlfriend) told you a secret. As if you didn't tell ONE other person. But, you know, only a person you knew you could TOTALLY trust to keep it. This can include another girlfriend, a parent, or a spouse (ah yes - the rationale that a spouse is an extension of self, so it doesn't count as telling...)

Now, please don't get me wrong. I LOVE my girlfriends. Love, love, LOVE THEM. Wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. And women, in general, rock. We are sympathetic, caring, supportive, and pretty much awesome. We're just... well, as a group... we're just crap at keeping secrets completely to ourselves.

You may think I'm saying this because someone recently betrayed a confidence. This is not the case. I was just thinking about how if I had something personal to talk about (not that I do... or doooo I?...) - there is not a soul I could actually talk to about it. And this is because I don't have any close guy friends anymore, and all my girlfriends - God bless them! - can't keep a secret worth beans. Not that they gossip or tell multiple people. Not that they'd intentionally even tell anyone. But, like all women, they need to share information with at least ooonne person...

Hey, and don't you start thinking it's just my friends. It's yours too - you know it! ... And if you don't... well, you should! :) And YES, there are some exceptions - although I find exceptions aren't so much in people but rather in situations. Like, one girl may on a rare occasion be able to keep a specific secret for someone - but this weakens her for the next secret. (Stop glaring at me! - I only speak the truth!)

Look ladies, someone had to say it. Now it's out there. Women are not perfect and, in general, aren't really built as safes.

...Other Women
Since I've already angered the female readers - if you're still with me here - I might as well say the other thing that kills me about women. They're not very empathetic towards other women. Now, they are SYMPATHETIC - for sure! Nobody can cry with you like a girlfriend, can support you like her, can lift you up like her, can love you so completely like she can. Women make amazing - AMAZING friends. They also, though, make amazing enemies. Women - and here I'm really generalizing, so please don' t key my car girls - have a hard time putting themselves in the shoes of a women who is not their personal friend. Women do the most terrible things to one another (again, especially if they're not actually friends) - and are often pretty unremorseful, too. Men can be mean, but girls - girls can be unspeakably cruel. And when a guy does something bad, he usually recognizes his character. Women tend to see themselves as the victims, even when they're clearly - at least, clearly to an outsider - not.

...Me
Okay, so the things I'm saying may not be entirely true of you. They're certainly not entirely true of me, either!! BUT, is there some element of these two things that has a ring - maybe a tiny-tiny ring - of truth - if not for you personally, for a women or two you know? For all our awesome qualities, why is it so many women fall short on what we consider so important in others - our ability to hold a confidence and our empathy towards other women? Girls are fabulous- I love being a women - but, come on, ladies! Lets step it up here!!

Just my ponderings on this warm August morning. But...shhh... don't tell!!!

Film Friday

2008-08-15T10:51:00.008-05:00

Today, we take a look at one of my all-time guilty pleasures...

Newsies

Likable characters, catchy tunes, a fight for justice, and a young Christian Bale - what's not to love about this classic Disney? - hey, that was a rhetorical question! - Okay, the story line may not be earthshatteringly original, the revelations a little sparse and some of the acting a little uncomfortable - but this sweet live action musical is intriguing, funny, and thoroughly entertaining. With exciting choreography and memorable numbers, Newsies offers its audience songs to sing to, characters to root for, and a story that will leave you with a smile. With no apologies - I give this 4.5 stars out of 5.

Me and Billy Idol

2008-08-14T09:25:00.006-05:00

So, my husband bought me tix for Def Leppard a while back. Now, I love Def Leppard, especially their classics (seriously - I don't know of a sexier song than Pour Some Sugar on Me) - but I felt like I won the lottery when I found out Billy Idol was opening for them. BILLY IDOL. Say what you will about his music, but he's a rock icon. And what a voice on that man.

I've been to some pretty good concerts. Zig usually chooses them and buys the tickets, because I can't justify spending money like that for a few hours of entertainment - but I do love going. Some of the best were Bob Dylan and James Brown (floor seats for both), Bryan Adams (where I waited outside for two hours to get get an autograph), Blue Rodeo, Poison, and - believe it or not - Juliet Lewis and the Licks. But let me tell you, all the other concerts (with perhaps the exception of the Licks) - dulled in comparison to the energy and crazy sex appeal of this one.

Billy Idol, although the opener, was the main attraction for me. As soon as he begun his 80 minute set, I was completely lost in the music. It was intoxicating. His voice has lost nothing with the passage of time, and his deep growl paired with the sound of that guitar brought a feeling close to euphoria. It's hard to believe he's in his fifties - even with the big screen in the stadium focused in on his beautiful face (oh yes, Billy Idol is beautiful), he didn't look it. And his stage presence was just as you would imagine it - full of fist-pumping verve. I was blown away.

I could have gone home happy after that. Luckily, I stayed for the main event, and Def Leppard didn't disappoint. Mixing some of their new songs with a satisfying range of their classics, they had the audience on their feet for the majority of their show.

After the concert the traffic flow was well directed and we got out of the packed parking lot quickly and painlessly. The night air was cool and summer-scented, and as I headed home with the windows down and my fingers in the breeze, I was filled with a strange sort of peaceful energy. What an event.

2008-08-12T23:58:00.002-05:00

I don't know what's up with me lately. I can't seem to make myself go to bed at a decent time - even when I'm tired. And I can't sleep in either, due to my sweet little alarm clock, Rachel.

It just seems like night is the perfect time to really get things done. Often I even make some coffee around ten, and then there's even less chance of sleep any time soon.

This is not a good habit to get into, especially since school is starting again in less than a month. But I just really love the night of late, and as much as I do love sleeping, the quiet darkness is a beautiful thing to waste.

A Tale of Two Teachers

2008-08-12T14:27:00.004-05:00

So, there's been a lot of education talk in this house of late. With September - and my return to the educational system - rapidly approaching, and Zig recently enrolling in the faculty of education (for Graphic Arts), lesson plans and structures have been on both our minds and homework dates have a pleasant, productive ring to them. I've been planning like crazy but am nowhere near ready - an entire new course to prep and grandiose dreams of revamping all other current courses. September is all too soon. And Zig, with paper to write (he's rocking already at the coursework) and presentations to plan - will soon find himself student teaching for the first time, and will have actual lessons to plan and present - and the marking that comes with it (although I think in vocational courses like Graphic Arts the marking is less heavy than in English courses).

It's both terrifying - TWO teachers in one house?? How will anything ever get done around here?? - and thrilling- we'll both be in the same world AND have holidays together to boot!

Anyway, watching Zig prepare for his first practice lesson yesterday (a ten minute instructional presentation on a topic of his choice), it really hit home that he's actually doing it - and that he's going to make an exceptional teacher.

Wonderful. Another thing he'll be better than me at. :) Did I ever mention that I started blogging FIRST?

My relationship with Birthday Cake

2008-08-10T20:38:00.000-05:00

So, truth-be-t0ld, I'm crazy about birthday cake. This is no ordinary passion though. This one defies reason.

I mean, I also love icecream cake... LOVE icecream cake - but that's pretty typical. I mean, who DOESN'T love icecream cake. What's not to love about it? And brownies - well, that's pretty self explanitory. Love those too. Gooey, chocoloatey - of course I'd love brownies.

But regular, grocery store birthday cake - what's really to love? There is nothing spectacular about grocery store birthday cake. And as a kid, I wasn't crazy about it. I mean, the icing is always too much and too sweet, the colouring so artificial you can taste it, and the cake itself is...well... just cake. Regular cake-cakeiness. But as an adult - and I think as a teen as well - I am addicted to it. Not addicted in the way where I have to go out and buy some, but in the way that if it's there, I'm going to eat it. A lot of it. Even though I've been successfully dieting all week. Even though I've already eaten. Even though I promised myself I wouldn't this time. And I'm going to feel happy I did.

I mean, I really really like it. I don't have any idea why, but it tastes GREAT to me. Even though I know it's unspectacular, I love it.

Rachel's birthday brought this issue of mine to light. She had the opportunity to try cake for the first time. She wasn't quite sure what to think of it. She was tentative at first, dipping her fingers gingerly into the icing, sampling the taste reluctantly. Eventually, however, she was digging in with both fists. That's my girl! :)

Her cake looked beautiful but, being a typical Safeway cake, featured ample too-sweet white icing, with lots of red food colouring, and plain marble cake, with an undistinguished, thin layer of custard within it. And, my weeks worth of healthy eating playing at the back of my mind, I ate too much of it all weekend and thoroughly enjoyed each mouthful.

It's not a healthy relationship, I know, but birthday cake, with all its flaws, does indeed make me happy. And I suppose that's gotta count for something.

Happy Birthday, Rachel!

2008-08-09T23:48:00.002-05:00

So, my little girl turned one today. Exactly one year ago (and a couple of hours) she was exiting the safe cocoon that was my belly and meeting the real world head-on. It was the most difficult, most rewarding thing I have ever done in my life.

Watching her grow this past year, and learning with her as she teaches me to be a mom, has been a truly beautiful adventure so far. I can't wait to find out what the future has in store for us.

So, happy birthday, my little blessing! You are God's gift to me!

Film Friday: 2 Forgettable Films

2008-08-08T08:15:00.000-05:00

Today I'm going to look at two fairly forgettable films I saw recently. Both had such potential. And while neither were terrible, and each had their moments, they just didn't leave any lasting impression - so I'd better write this quick, before they're utterly forgotten.

Made of Honour

How could a movie with McDreamy be so mediocre? Yes, Mr. Patrick Dempsey. Does anyone else remember his movies from the late eighties - Can't Buy Me Love and Loverboy? While neither were great cinematic art, THOSE were at least memorable. Heck, I was, like, 8 and 10 when they came out, and I still remember them today (not that a ten year old should have been watching either of those movies). THIS movie, though - not such a classic. Here's what I liked about it: Attractive actors, some funny scenes, a few really moving moments, and some sweet sentiments. Where it fell short? Our main hero was never very likable - even at the end. Some other characters were utterly horrible - and they never "got theirs" in the end. Even the premise - this "true love changes a man" wasn't quite believable. It also felt a little uneven - dragging at some places while not spending enough time at others. So, while I definitely didn't really dislike this movie, I really didn't love it either. I deem it: forgettable. 3 stars.

Hancock

Ah, such great potential. But I'll tell you what the primary problem with this movie was. It just didn't know what it wanted to be. Suffering from a true identity crises, it fluctuated indiscriminately between drama, action, and comedy. Some films can do this comfortably, but - unfortunately - not Hancock. The difference between genres within this movie seemed almost jarring at times. From the serious portrayal of loneliness, self-alienation, isolation, and alcoholism, to the special effects laden, flying through the sky, pavement cracking, car through building action scenes, to the one-man's-head-literally-up-another-man's-butt slapstick visual humor, this movie just needed more focus. Don't misunderstand me - the movie wasn't all bad. Some excellent acting, especially by Charlize Theron and Will Smith, great effects, and a truly awesome premise (love, love, love the various themes that the audience is left with). A great idea and an original spin on the old hero movie. A really excellent story. It's unfortunate the telling of it needed a little more work. 3.5 stars out of 5.

Our Money Pit

2008-08-06T10:00:00.001-05:00

If the root of all evil is the love of money, I suppose I'm fairly safe for the time being. I mean, I might love money if I had the opportunity, but I just haven't met very much of it.

I'll tell you though, I don't really like this being poorish. It beats being poor, I suppose. But right now, with Zig going back to school and me just coming off Maternity leave, with credit cards maxed out and our bank account dwindling, it's hard not to covet thy neighbours riches. Well... not that any of our actual neighbours have riches... but I meant neighbours in the more general sense...

It seems we live in a bit of a money pit house these days (to reference an old Tom Hanks movie) - everything is going wrong with it. And everything requires money to fix it. And like I said, we just don't got the coin -

So, to name a few:

The air conditioner can't keep up with our summer, so it's icing up and leaking water all over the basement floor. I voiced my concern to the husband, as I didn't really like trodding through the water every time I needed to do the laundry. His response? All air conditioners leak water. Uhhh.... ? ... Of course, it's not like we can afford to get it fixed or - worse still - replace it - right now. Our solution? A fan in the basement to dry the water and to turn it off every couple of days... (uhg).

- We had an earlier leak under our upstairs sink (which went unnoticed for the longest time) and now our ceiling below the bathroom has large patches of discoloration. This is in addition to the ones that were caused by a mysterious earlier leak in the same bathroom we had, of which the cause is still unknown for certain, but we guessed it may be the bathtub upper drain - the solution? All baths are taken with the tub half full. Wonderful. Oh, and the ceiling looks like crap. And I'm worried there may be undetected mold up there.

- Speaking of mold, when we moved into our house, we noticed the bathtub wall's previous tile had been covered with one of those plastic fitted walls. I'm beginning to get an inkling as to why. I can only imagine what health hazards we'd find beneath the covering. But to fix something like that? (on top of the loss of our only bathroom while renovating?) -

- And a few years ago we bought these beautiful white couches. Not so white now. Coffee, pens, and my latest transgression - chocolate mousse cake - sent Zig into a cleaning frenzy which resulted in much, much cleaner couches. While they look pretty nice due to Zig's efforts (he's a cleaning genius), they don't look new anymore. What would make them look new? Uh... if they were new.

- The baseboards, to paraphrase the husband, are all...uh... poo...and falling off... And we've been finding random screws on the floor - likely from the new beautiful looking but inexpensive chairs we bought last year.

- And the window screens. In Rachel's room and the guest room. The edges of the screen are bent so there are gaps between frame and the screen - This means if we open the window in those rooms, bugs have free access. Because of our caution with West Nile - as well as wasps, bees, and - shudder - moths... we leave the windows closed. Which is unfortunate, especially on the days we're giving the air conditioning a break. And husband says that we'd need to get new screens custom fitted.

- There are three light fixtures on the stairway that have been burnt out for several months. Why haven't we replaced the bulbs? To replace them would be almost forty bucks. FORTY BUCKS FOR THREE LIGHT BULBS? I wish I could punch the person who chose this freaking fixture right in the nose! And I'm not well versed in the art of nose-punchery...

-And there's a burnt out bulb also in our upper stair way. Much cheaper, takes a standards sixty watt. BUT IT'S WAAAAY UP ON THE WALL. To replace it, we need to climb up on a ladder - on the stair landing. Yeah, that's safe. POW, RIGHT IN THE NOSE!

- Anyway, back to the money pit... the carpets are threadbare, the kitchen floor needs to be replaced, and for some reason, the people in this house before us thought yellowish appliances were attractive...

- Oh, and the ceiling in the basement has some issues too. At one point, part of the tiling was falling down, and Zig fixed it... with a Popsicle. Yup. He'd just finished a tasty treat, looked up at the drooping ceiling, coloured the stick black (ahhh, Sharpe marker, how useful you become), and "fixed" the ceiling. It's actually difficult to spot if you're not looking for it... but how long can the stick hold out? Hoooow looong?...

- And then there's the basement office. Husband thought he'd change the layout of the basement and move the door to the office from the laundry room to the main family room - filling in the old door space with drywall. Which worked out fine, except he only drywalled the inside of the former door - our laundry room has a half-filled-in-door... and he made this door for a mini-closet under the stairs... except he never attached it... so it just kinda sits at an angle over the opening...

- The bed squeaks.

- Then there's outside - one of our hedges is dead - right in the center - it looks terrible! - our deck needs refinishing, the fence around our deck needs replacing, we've let our garden grow over, weeds have mysteriously appeared in our front yard. Zig works hard on the lawn, too - watering, mowing, watering, mowing - and yet those little weeds keep popping up!!! WHY????

But, you know, we actually have done some major work on this. Zig really does fix the things he can. And the backyard is beautiful now compared to when we moved in - complete with a stone path and a little firepit, Zig fixed the entire shed and reorganized the garage, we've had the house painted, the driveway asphalted, our roof replaced, the upstairs rooms all repainted as well as our dining room, and our entire bedroom redone with hardwood floors, designer paint, and new espresso furniture.

There's just always more to be done. I wonder if it's like this for all homeowners, and if it will always be like this - or if we'll ever be done fixing our home up. That said, I do love this house. It beats the one bedroom apartment we lived in, though I loved it there - and it's not like our landlords ever got around to fixing our many problems there, either (no doorknob to our balcony door, icedup freezer, cracking bathroom tiles, and rabbit-chewed carpet... well, that last problem was because of our secret rabbit...) - and anyway, I love this house. I love the layout, the atmosphere, the comfort. And I love its potential. Yup. I love this money pit.