away

Assignment #6: away

Sometimes I wonder if taking a holiday is really a good idea. Sure, I come back refreshed, full of stories and food, carrying memories – but really, all I do is think about the next trip, the next flight, the next bag to pack. If I could find a way to travel perpetually, to spend my life out of a suitcase, I think I’d do it. At least, for a while.

Of course, this is where cognitive dissonance sets in. You see, by nature, I’m a nester. I like my hearth and home. I like the idea of having a bed to call my own and bookshelves brimming with staycation adventures. I like baking and decorating and curling up in front of the TV to watch reality shows about islands or dancing. And yet… and yet.

baking bread

Assignment #5: food

My apartment, last night: suburban lights twinkling outside, uninterrupted by skyscraper, ambient music in the background (“oh this uncertainty is taking me over”), countertop strewn with flour, oven preheating to four hundred.  In my life, there are few outlets for creative control.  There is writing, but she is a harsh, cruel, and fickle mistress.  My hands cannot play an instrument or draw a still-life or knit a scarf.  No, my hands can do only one thing: bake. 

full

Had a bit of a revealing thought this morning as I'm getting ready for work (and my big presentation, which turned out just fine, tyvm).  There I am, trying to figure out exactly how to tame my rain-inspired Chaka Khan hair (ponytail? barrettes? bun? footloose-and-fancy-free?), still dressed in only a skirt and bra and all of a sudden I get a flash - yes, indeed, for the moment, I am content.  Perhaps it's because I'd had my Special K this morning or because I knew exactly what I was going to wear.  Maybe it was because I was feeling confident about the presentation.  I don't know what it was, but it felt good.  And then, as I'm heading out the door (hair in barrettes), coat in one hand keys in the other, I get it again.  Most definitely: content.

It's been a while since I've felt this.  The last time I remember it happening was quite some time ago.  Sure I've been happy since - dozens of times! - but this sense of home has been fleeting.  I guess home is that feeling that everything is as it should be.  You know?  You feel a comfort in your skin, in your keys, in your knee-high boots.  And, today, it showed.  I got all sorts of compliments on my outfit (not a stitch of "new"), my wit, my assuredness.

Ahh, but all is fleeting.  Sure, I was content, but when will I be satisfied?  I suppose "never" is a viable answer.  I mean, imagine if I were always satisfied - I'd become an inert lump in my own life!  So, I suppose it's only natural that this, too, shall pass.  That, even after a fabulously delicious meal that leaves me full... well, I'm still going to be hungry at some point the next day.  I guess I just enjoy the moment as much as possible, relish each bite and savour each swallow, commit the sensations to memory so I can call on them when pickings get a little slim, as they sometimes do.

It felt good, today.  Really good.  Full-to-the-brim good.  Yum.

burst

It was quite the long weekend (Victoria Day for my American friends). It shouldn't have been, since I get Mondays off every two weeks, but when everyone you know also has a Monday off, it becomes special.

Started it off with a digital showing of Star Trek. It was the 2140 show on its second weekend, so I didn't expect a line-up. Nevertheless, there were five of us watching it and I wanted us to be able to sit together. Jadek and I got there an hour before showtime and, much to my surprise, they let us go upstairs; further, upon getting to the theatre #10, there are people waiting. What? Anyway, we lined up dutifully, making snarky comments about nerdy trekkers and how early must they gotten there to be first in line on the second weekend. Some guy comes up behind us and asks if "this is the line for Angels and Demons" - oh yeah, I'd totally forgotten that opened this weekend. "Nope" I say at the same time as the guy in front of us says "yep." I go back downstairs to investigate and it turns out all those nerds in front of us weren't Trekkers after all; it also turns out they're all standing in the wrong line. Now, we are the first ones in line. Snarky comments can be heard from those who line up behind us. Good movie; great discussion about time travel and infinite loops and parallel universes follow over nachos and long island iced teas.

Saturday brings us to a party hosted by LilBro while the 'rentals are away. Woohoo! I felt old, trying to keep up with the younguns, but they were good kids. Except that one, but there's a douche at every party. Crawled into bed at 0430, but was disturbed and kept awake until 0600. Birds were clearly chirping and the sun fully risen by the time I got to sleep. I woke up fully expecting to cook breakfast only to find guests already left, sneaky devils. More sausage for me! Spent the day napping and watching snippets of TV. Finally woke up at 1845, drank two Red Bulls and started to get the plan together for that night - HYBRID @ neu+ral. Oh, how I love the Hybrid experience (great music + awesome DJ + cheap drink + fab peeps = fantastic night). Crawled into bed at 0500, after LilBro makes yumtastic breakie.

Monday was hard. Forced self out of bed by 1030. Packed, checked in with the 'rentals in NYC, cleaned up a bit and went home, where I had to cook for the week and do laundry and all those boring adult things. My plan to watch the Survivor finale was foiled by a very slow torrent. Instead, I bundled into a blanket, dragged a chair out on to my balcony, poured a glass of wine and got ready to watch some fireworks. I had expected to a couple. I got a spectacular show, from near and far. Facing northwest, I could see the big shows put on by neighbouring cities and villages which make up mine. I would like to send a special thanks to all the houses that line the 403 between Hurontario and Mavis - you people had some great pyrotechnics! And since I could watch hundreds of houses at once, it was like my own private show! At one point, there were literally dozens of flares happening at the same. It was like that ubiquitous "doomsday" image of many missile silos launching at once (which of course, I can't find anywhere right now - I watched T3 on the weekend, and it had one), except they were flares and chrysanthemums, spiders and kamuros - the entire horizon sparkled fro lose to two hours. It was one of those moments that reminded me just why I moved out.

Happy Vicky Day!

vitamin D

It's silly, really. Despite having spent the better part of the last ten days being ill with the flu (a flu I had thought to try to and inoculate myself against, but with no success) and still having the sniffles and dry throat/lips to go with it, today, I felt... happy. And for no good reason at all! I wanted to walk outside, order a frappuccino and stroll home. I wanted to hang out with people. i wanted to read a book outside. And why? well...

The last week has seen me at home and I've noticed the late afternoon sun creeping deeper and deeper inside my condo, lingering a little longer every day. And today, being at work after so long, surrounded by windows, the shift flew by. I called around, desperate to have someone share this day with me - but everyone was "busy" ... *sigh*

I know I don't suffer from depression, but I certainly think I lack sunshine in my life and that makes me grumpy and contemplative. A little vitamin D and it's like I've been given a new lease on life. Long after the sun went down, I was still standing on my balcony, basking in the twilight. I can't wait for summer (and patio furniture and pina coladas). I'm getting happy just thinking about it.

falling off

I've been a bad, bad blogtress. I haven't updated in so long - and that too, they were reviews. So here's the Coles notes version of what's been happening lately.

1) ElizaPoppins is having a baby and it's very exciting! Baby Hannah is due in Feb; already I've decided that I will spoil her rotten. Kaylee organised a baby shower. This meant that I was let loose in Babies R Us to buy booties and towels and onesies. All repressed maternal instincts came bursting out, and I totally almost lost it. Everything is just so small and cute - as Nish says, baby socks are my krptonite. I couldn't believe the pile of things I'd amassed when I got to the checkout counter; it was like the beeping register was keeping time with my now-very-loudly-ticking biological clock. The shower itself took care of that: though the baby things made us all "aww" in squeaking levels only canines could register, the bad babies were enough to remind me about why I don't like children. Ahhh, other people's spawn… they are the perfect birth control.

2) Media is accumulating time in my life: on DVD there's Lost and Spaced and The Wire; on actual TV, there's Survivor and Smallville and Stewart/Colbert and (lately) The Hour. This means at least 10 hours are sucked out of my life… 10 hours I could really use. Movies will also be made more prominent soon, as Award Season starts up again. And WoW, of course, has become a personal challenge (ever since they introduced achievements, I feel like I -need- to play). *sigh* what if I had a real hobby? When would that get slotted in?

3) Social Life. There was a time I didn't have one. Then I finished school. Now, I'm back to having several different circles of friends. Not that I'm complaining - they're all wonderful in their own way and I would never give them up. But now, I have the Book Clubbers, the WoW guys, the Board Gamers, the Librarians, the FISees… not to forget my beloveds, Nish, Jadek, JC.. and of course my family… Christ. Something will have to go … but what? Probably Thursday night WoW so I can have one night to myself.

4) Work. Unlike being in Sciences, being at work is … well, work. I have to pay far more attention here than I did over there. I could spend four hours on a desk in Science and answer one question… not so much in Children's. Plus, I'm more involved here. I guess I should just let things go and stop taking on so many responsibilities; on the other hand, when I'm not busy, I'm bored. I have yet to strike a happy medium. What I'd like to do is work extended days and then get an extra day off in the week - that would make for better division between work and play. I always did work better with larger chunks of time.

5) House stuff. Everyday, I go home and feel like a failure. There are empty picture frames which I haven't had time to fill (or even sort through pictures and send to print, for that matter); drawers that aren't organised, things that have no home… I just hate when things aren't in place. I'm not one for change - once I get all homey, I keep things fairly static. But the getting there… I just haven't found the time I'd like to devote to it. Perhaps I need a vacation wherein in which I just stay home and get a project done a day. Like painting the bathroom spots that I missed the first time around or organising the sweaters in my closet or shopping for a bedroom storage bench and a hall chair or … god, there's just so much. I'm not going to think about it. I'm going to watch TV.

time suckage

Ever since Sammy (my TV) moved in two weeks ago, I have been completely unproductive. Why clean when I can watch People's Court? Why sleep when I can watch Jon Stewart AFTER The Hour? Why blog when South Park is on (as it is right now)? I suppose that this is all a sign of settling in - now that there are no boxes to unpack or room to paint or even closets to organise, I have been giving over all my free time to the time suck known as TV. boo. BOO (that's a big boo).

I have 2 major projects on hold for no reason: picture frames that need to be populated and decorating some plain wine glasses. The photos require me to go back to my parents' place and steal some pics... as well as actually printing the digital ones I have now. But that means scouring through the thousands (literally) of pics that are sitting on my HD - yuck. Why do that when I can watch The Simpsons? And the wine glasses? well... that's just a commitment issue I'm having. I'll just get over it... after Dancing with the Stars.

Stupid TV. I need to cancel my cable.

mode not supported

Today, I welcomed a new member to the Chez DissolvedGirl family: Sammy. Sammy's brood have been living under my bed for two weeks, awaiting his arrival and their (hopefully) joyful reunion. When he arrived (in one of the biggest boxes I've ever seen), there was much smiling and crying. Geek Squad were on hand to get everyone hooked up, fill out the right paperwork and basically reunite me with the magical land of TV. Three hours later, here are all my disappointments:

1) Swedish people don't like electronic gadgets in their bookshelves. This is blatant segregationism, but what can I say? I have a lot of Swedish furniture and Japanese gadgets - apparently, never shall the twain meet.

2) The Wall of Terror is not a figment of my imagination - even Geek Squad commented on its ability to make men into boys again.

3) I HATE technology. I pay lots of money for pretty things - I simply want them to work. After Geek Squad left, everything stopped working. The screen kept saying "Mode not Supported" - what the hell does that mean?! After actually breaking down into tears - yes, I cried like a little boy in a sandbox, sue me - I simply left it all alone and went out for a burger. I came back and calmly tackled the problem again. Here I am - almost eleven hours after Sammy first rolled through my door and everything is FINALLY working.... right down to the PS3.

4) A good dongle fixes all. It's true.

5) I work best when no one is watching.

giving of the thanks

Up here in Canada, we celebrated Thanksgiving this past weekend. Sorry to my American readers... no, we do not mark Columbus Day with a ritual slaughter of game fowl. In my house, we only slaughter organic farm-fowl - and that too, it's a chicken. For the first time in a while, I actually had 2 days off in a row, so it really felt like a long weekend.

Saturday night, I was at my parents' place for quiet thanksgiving foursome. (Get your minds out of the gutter people - i mean, it was only my mom, dad, brother and I around the table... sheesh). That was pleasant. LilBro gave thanks first - after clarifying that no, we weren't "praying" and that, yes, he could just use this time to declare his gratefulness in general without attaching any religious significance... *sigh* ... he's so prickly, that one. Then I went, making sure to note that I was thankful that our dinner only consisted of the family members that I liked. Mom had to thank God first, thereby nullifying LilBro's atheistic vote. Dad was thankful for the food, which he had already sampled before we even sat down. I couldn't blame him - food was good.

During dinner is when LilBro drops his mini-bomb: he wants to join the Canadian Forces. I haven't heard such deafening silence in years. At first, I'm thrilled. Finally, the boy makes a decision that will provide some direction in his life. Of course, my parents are dead against it. "Why now?" asks my mother. "Why not when you were 16 and it could have moulded you into a proper man? Why now, when they're coming back in coffins from Afghanistan?" After giving us a spiel about how his life is not going anywhere, how he could actually serve his country, LilBro gets to the heart of his decision: "you and dad told me get a plan (e.g. a job, go back to school, etc.) or I'd have to find my own way in January. This is my plan." ...This is when I stop being supportive. I hate it when he does that. Whenever he's asked to actually do anything, he always picks some ridiculous extreme to guilt my parents into backing down. So, I did what any big sister would do - I called him on it. He really had nothing more to say after that. I told him if he was so gung-ho about serving his fellow citizens, there were plenty of local options: firefighting, police forces, customs. He didn't have to risk his head being blown up. Besides, he's not the army-type. This is a boy who votes Green Party, for God's sake. He's as much an army rat as I am. Needless to say, this Canadian Forces thing hung like a pall all through dinner.

*****

Yesterday, I hosted my very first "dinner-party" - though, technically, it was Thanskgiving lunch. Anyway, 18 people in my tiny condo - but it was good times. I served an entire meal, from apps (Chat patti and shrimp rings and homemade pate) to entrees (lemon fish, tandoori chicken, pork vindaloo) to dessert (fruit cocktail and indian sweets). Judging by the lack of food left over, I think it went over quite well. I got some fairly useless housewarming gifts and two VERY useful ones. I know people's hearts are in the right place, but I always wonder how one chooses gifts for one's, say, god-daughter. Is it "hey this is useful and cheap" or "wow, 18 plain glasses, she'll love that!" or "what's on sale?" ...either way, I don't need 18 glasses. I already have 18 glasses PLUS 18 wineglasses. So all the glasses I've received in the last two weeks? Either being re-gifted or added to my pile of "someday" items in my parents' basement. Perhaps registries don't always work - but I sure do wish people would embrace the idea of the gift certificate so I could go out and buy the things I really need.

Gobble, gobble.

this time 'round

Things I miss:
1) books that have gone missing (where art thou?)
2) internet
3) my best friend living up the street
4) Professor's Lobb's English classes

Things I don't miss:
1) playing second fiddle to the second sibling
2) "sharing" (the driveway, the bathrooms, the TV...)
3) starvation/hypothermia

this time 'round, it's better.

bare floors

I underestimated the feel of bare floors on the soles of my feet.

Last night, I broke down the last cardboard box and threw it in the garbage. Sure, there's plenty of stuff still left to hang (framed poems, postcard art, ornate daggers, candelabras) but I had put away all my cut-glass bottles, books and stone gargoyles. I had vacuumed any remaining cement dust out of corners and from behind hinges; I had wiped off the counter top and dusted the furniture; I had put everything in its place. Then I just stood there, the wood warming under my feet, smooth and hard. I looked at the yellow light spilling from behind my cream lamp shades onto my cornmeal walls, the gauze curtains shifting slightly in the post-midnight summer breeze, the clean glasses twinkling on my mosaic granite countertops. My books were resting comfortably behind the glass doors of their shelves; my laptop hummed Massive Attack softly. For a moment, a split second I felt it: home. I can't really describe it... it was like a split-second quickening in my stomach and rush of dim electricity on my heels. For just an instant, I could see clearly all the good things that would happen here: parties, Book Club meetings, movie marathons, board game nights, Survivor finale feasts, late nights with Thai food in takeout containers, baking Christmas cookies, reading books, watching TV, falling asleep on the sofa... Yes, for a moment I forgot all about the construction that still lay ahead and the cabling that still needed to be laid and the months of "breaking in" this new structure still had to endure before it finally settled. But it didn't matter. I was home. My home.

the interchangability of lights and trains

Having no internet at home has really tested my patience, but I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel! Yes, indeed, if we keep up this pace, we may even have little Timmy come to his new home on my desk by the week's end. Last night (around midnight) I FINALLY put up curtains in my bedroom (and this morning I got to sleep past sunrise). I've also finished the kitchen and bathroom. Now, Only a few brackets and couple of floating shelves stand in the way of unpacking my 700* books. The "condo" is starting to feel like home. If I'm a very good DissolvedGirl, I may even reward myself with a TV in October, but we'll see. Until I have a "normal" life (i.e. no more random trips to IKEA or Home Depot), I'm afraid my updating shall continue to be sporadic and boring.

tidbits from the last week:
- Moving 7 kms can make my Car Insurance premium go up by $500/year. wtf.
- People DO find reading sexy: "Rico" asked me for book recommendations and then said he'd email me his. AND he knows how very old I am. Who knew?
- It only takes me EIGHT minutes to walk to work. LOVE it.
- I own a jacket from a mystical magical shop in Camden that no one else can find. I feel special.
- I can go 4 days without checking my email, and then, like a junkie, I go on an internet binge by checking email / RSS feeds, updating facebook / blog and reading 700 million articles / comics / blogs. It's obviously best I have low dosages instead. I shall be calling Rogers next week.

Poppets! I love you and I miss you. Drop me a line; show me I haven't lost you forever!

*That's right, 700. I've effectively weeded almost 600 books from my collection.

conquered

Ahh, moving. Brings out the best and worst in everyone, especially me. I get cranky and sullen when things don't go according to my clockwork plan; I get irritated when people who are "helping" make a mess of my newly painted walls; I get sad when, after 14 days of having the keys to my new place, I still haven't spent the night. But after all this passes (and yes, this too, passes), comes the moments of happiness.

The Closet of No Studs: a battle. Two grown men who claim to be handy were defeated by this beast. There were holes and drag marks all over to show their vain attempts at taming the closet into something useful. But, eventually, they had to give up. I walked in yesterday, drill in one hand, four foot level in the other and said to the Closet: "it's either you or me. And I ain't backing down." Boy, did it try. No wooden studs to be found, but plenty of metal ones, so most studfinders were rendered useless. The studs themselves are tricky little buggers, spacing themselves out with no discernible pattern, ending at varying heights. I didn't care: I made as many holes as I wanted, for I knew the glory of PolyPutty. Yet, I measured seven times, before making my marks. I even got into a tug of war with a stubborn little wall plug (that bitch didn't have a chance). An epic 210 minutes later, the closet bellowed its last protest (drowned out by my mighty drill) and I stood, victorious. Special thanks to my sidekick who held things in place like a pro.

After that, what else was there to do but hop about in glee? Well, I did a few other things, but nothing quite like the closet. Now, only a stubborn leaky showerhead stands in my way. I diagnosed the problem yesterday as well (all that drama over a ten cent gasket. honestly.)

Key lessons I have learned?
- If you want it done right, do it your bloody self.
- A drill is a girl's best friend.
- Nothing - not even metal studs - can stand between a woman and her clothes.

movin' on up

You may have read/heard me griping about the Big Move on the weekend, so I might as well get everyone up to speed. On July 10, I picked up my keys and opened the door to my brand spankin' new condo. By this time, I'm not even all starry-eyed about it. It's been 27 months in the making and I already had to do a PDI, which is essentially a list of everything that's wrong with the place. The plan was simple: clean and prep entire condo for painting on Thursday, do one coat on Friday, another coat on Saturday and touchups on Sunday. What actually happened? I didn't finish touchups until Wednesday (July 16). As a direct result, I didn't install my closet or curtain rods, leaving all this to the day of the move, which eventually avalanched into a three-day weekend of boxes and frustration.

First, the "easy to install" Rubbermaid closet stalled on Step One: find a stud. There's no stud in that damned closet. How did the original closet have any support? Who knows? Internet searching and Home Repair manuals tell me not to worry, that a few toggle bolts will take care of the weight, but by this time it's late on Sunday night (July 20) and everyone's about ready to collapse.

This has led to domino effect of things not getting done. I'd like to move in and unpack slowly, but right now my kitchen is "supply central", with the counter acting as a work surface and sorting centre. No kitchen means no cooking or eating. How do I get the counters cleared off? By having somewhere to put the stuff (a closet or the bathroom would be a lovely start).

So here's what still needs to get done:
1) Bedroom Closet: once this is done, I can unpack all my clothes, get rid of the suitcases and put all the furniture in the right place. Then I can sleep in my new place.
2) Bathroom: the toilet roll holder was installed completely off-centre (which is too annoying NOT to fix); the medicine cabinet has to be moved to a desirable location... once all that's done (with its related spackle and paint jobs) I can shower at my new place.
3) Hall Closet: this will allow me to unpack numerous boxes of linen, coats, board games and other miscellanea which will reside in this closet. Then I can have more room in the Living Room.
4) Kitchen: with most things put where they belong, the Living Room can now become "supply central". This will free up the Kitchen for more mundane things like cooking. Then I can eat in my new place.
5) Living Room: a summer-long project of furniture assembly. This seems so far away, it's almost a fantasy instead of a plan. It's July 21 (11 days after I got my keys) and I'm still living with the 'rentals. sigh.
6) Curtain rods: these are so low on the priority list (what with being on the 16th floor and having nobody at my height for miles around), I don't even want to discuss them.

It all seems so simple, no? A bunch of little 4-5 hour projects, really. But it's like every time I sit down to get a project done, I get thrown a curve ball (no studs, no plumber's tape, hinges that won't fit, dammit). Who said moving was easy? Okay, no one says that. But people should just say that moving is hard. Period.

There is one bright spot in all this: the view.

sore

Have spent eight hours for each of the last three days cleaning and painting the new place (almost done, almost done) with some helpers (JC, Jadek and superstar LilBro). At some point around 5pm on Saturday I entered a place of zen and calm, where walls were painted by me, but I didn't remember doing them. My shoulder was so sore, it stopped hurting and became almost numb. I began humming as if I were baking or something. Whoa. Anyway, all that's left is touch ups in the bedroom and at least 2 more coats in my "gold" kitchen. The whole house is actually off one colour palette, with different shading (cornmeal yellow, spiced butternut and glorious gold). One exception? Bathroom (of course) where I went with a traditional blue (bliss blue, to be exact) - there was a moment last night where the sun was about to set and it completely creeped into the entire place where the yellow and the blue just looked... like home. I'm very excited! especially when I see the view.

I am behind schedule (big surprise), but it's not too bad. with only the kitchen and touchups to go, I can still get some things done, but I'll need my Dad's expertise with a drill. While I'm all Miss Independent, I refuse to fuck up my closet because of my pride. I'm really hoping LilBro will finish up the kitchen while I'm at work this week (unfortunately, each coat needs 24 hours to cure... *sigh*) and I really need to finish packing... I'd forgotten how much stuff I have. I also need to acquire chairs of some sort for before the move, as there's nowhere to sit right now.

The big move is next Saturday - stay tuned, poppets!

things taken for granted

I woke up this morning feeling like someone's punching bag. I'm not complaining; far from. These are like birthing pains: easily forgiven for the end product. I spent eight hours last night labouring over the new condo and my oft-ignored upper-body was screaming at me this morning for it. Jadek (the bastard) is feeling "fine" while I can't reach above shoulder-level.

Knowing this, you can understand my slow pace at work today. I especially dreaded having to reach for any top shelf books. So, when I got a question for "pathophysiology" books, I was already thinking about how we probably won't have anything of use. While my slow catalogue took its time to think about my request, I asked my customer if it was for personal or professional use (not because I'm curious, but because I didn't want to hand her a health manual when she's looking for a diet book...librarians out there understand). In her lovely Nigerian accent, she said she was studying for an equivalency exam. In our brief walk over to the shelves, she told me about her worries over tripping our alarm by taking a book through that she'd checked out yesterday but had brought with her to study today. She was anxious about anyone calling the police or, worse, taking away her newly issued library card. I reassured her that neither of those things would happen. When she asked if she could take out all three books I showed her, even though she already had one, I replied that she could take up to fifty items out on her card. She tells me: "in the library back home, we may take out one book at a time."

I cannot imagine worrying about the police responding to a book alarm, or a library so small that you can only take out one book at a time. As she flipped through Pathophysiology for Health Professionals by Barbara Gould, I couldn't help but notice the scars that crisscrossed the backs of hands. What had brought her here? Had she been one of the privileged elite to receive a high-class education, the scars a remnant of happy childhood adventures? Had she escaped a terrible existence and those scars were her badges of honour? I don't know - it was probably neither. Here I was, complaining about sore muscles I'd gotten by cleaning my condo in safe suburban Canada. My biggest worry right now is if they would get my washer/dryer in by the week's end. I take a lot of things for granted: life, liberty, friends, and freedom. It only takes three soft-spoken "thank you"s to make me appreciate them all over again.

the missing

Today, I packed the last box of books. I whittled my collection: donated three boxes of (almost) brand-new books to library, kept authors together in the basement instead of taking all my titles, let go of some real crap. Sixteen xerox boxes in total, holding 632 books. That's almost half of what I started with. In updating my spreadsheet (I am a librarian, after all), I discovered some lost books. I was shocked to see not one but two of my desert islanders unaccounted for. Where have they gone? Have I lent them out and forgotten to keep track? Were they hiding on some bookshelf I can't remember? If anyone has seen my babies, or has any information as to their whereabouts, please let me know. I didn't know until right how very much I missed them.

Little Women
World of Wonders
Robinson Crusoe
I, Lucifer
A Separate Peace
Time Traveler's Wife
Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde and Other Stories
Vanity Fair
Red Tent
City and the Pillar
Paradise Lost and Regained

inspections, keys, and a new postal code

I think it's official now. I received a letter in the mail telling me about my TARION Home Inspection date (June 30) and my Possession Date (July 10). They can't change their mind again, can they? can they?! I don't think my heart could handle such a break. Nerves are beginning to settle in now. I have lawyers to pay and legally-binding inspections to sign off on and change-of-address forms to fill out and boxes - oh, so many boxes - to pack and paint to buy and trucks to book and days to vacate... Good Lord. Somewhere in there, a huge job interview looms, a bridesmaid dress awaits and an awkward conversation about pink posies lurks. Not to mention the everyday life of work and friends and movies and books and writing.

and. of course. the event of the year. my birthday.

I wish I had left some vacation for this crazy time.

my cup runneth over

Doesn't it figure that the week before I leave for (arguably) the most intense vacation ever, is also the most swamp-worthy at work? Good Lord. Committees that have lain dormant lo these many months have suddenly decided that now - this very instant - is when we should draft proposals and have endless meetings. So not only do I have my normal workload (which isn't that bad), but I'm trying to get things done in advance for three weeks, stay involved in my committees and not work too many extra hours in the process.

Meanwhile, life doesn't pause: I still need to take care of last-minute trip details (QC Island tours, cars from Calgary to Jasper, stuffing 23 days of clothes into one backpack), condo obligations (granite anyone? anyone?), bridesmaid dress fittings for not one but TWO weddings, farewell parties, welcome-back parties... I need to pull a Monkey King and clone myself.

What a stupid idea to vacation less than three months before I move. A horribly stupid idea. I can't wait to be on the train this Saturday. Just so I can sleep.

Earth Hour: Mississauga

Colour me disappointed.

During Earth Hour (8pm-9pm), we went for a walk near my old neighbourhood (north up Tomken, then east along Bloor); I was so deflated to see a tonne of cars on the road and lights blazing in all the apartment complexes. In my home, there were candles burning in the bathroom and kitchen, my computer and alarm clock were unplugged... and people couldn't even stop watching TV for an hour? Oh, what's the point! In the face of such apathy, I feel like there's no point in even caring about this doomed marble we call home.

I was struck by how much more we could do using existing technologies (replacing sodium-vapour lamps with LEDs, recyclable Tim Hortons cups, compost bins for apartments, etc) that we just don't bother with. I feel like such a naive freak with my reusable coffee cup and grocery bags, my insistence on Tupperware over ziploc bags, my searching out of garbage cans over spitting my gum out on the street. Does any of it really make a difference when half a million people undo all your work? It's so easy to become cynical and jaded. Waiting for the lights at Tomken and Bloor, I was fuming.

Then I saw it: a hand-made sign on the northeast corner taped to the pole with the crosswalk button. In obvious grade-school writing, red marker on white paper, it said: "Save some of the planet for me. Celebrate Earth Hour at 8pm on Saturday." Such a simple little sign. I wish I'd had my camera. It made me feel less like a loser about actually giving a shit.