You Are In Mine

This morning, on my walk to work, I happened to look up at a passing car and catch the driver waving at me. After not being able to place either the man's face or his vehicle in the following thirty seconds, I turned down my iPod and put up my guard. I'm not sure what I was expecting... okay, that's a lie. I was TOTALLY expected this guy to do a u-turn and catch up with me. For what reason, you ask? To tazer me, of course! Then, once I had been rendered completely immobile, he'd haul my body off to harvest it's (my?) organs.

Have I been living in the city too long?

On the plus side, here is a pretty tree picture! I love trees... creepy ones, sad ones, lovely ones, full ones, bare ones, thick ones, skinny ones. Trees pretty much rule.

Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.
- Chinese proverb

Pretty

"All our reasoning ends in surrender
to feeling."

Blaise Pascal

The Wedding Singer

My brother and I were watching Adam Sandler videos on YouTube when he pulled up this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CYI5bKZMes. I can't watch it without crying, and this particular time was no exception. My brother thinks it's hilarious how in less than two minutes of exposure to something mushy I wind up in tears.

But I can't help it... this is just one of the most romantic movies ever made, and the above scene is my absolute favourite part.

b. March 30th, 1983

Dear Kent,

You are one of the sweetest, funniest, most fun people I have ever, ever known. You are so smart, smarter than you give yourself credit for. You can make me laugh without even having to try. You are so good, and so giving, and so full of heart that it's a wonder I even get to know you. The pictures that you take are truly beautiful, and move me more than anything I've seen in a gallery or museum. And, the fact that you can build Ikea furniture AND help me with my taxes makes you the kind of man I'd want to be stranded on a deserted island with. Thank you for all the times you have made me laugh, for being as addicted to Britney as I am, and for being the love of my best friend's life. The world would be so much less interesting without you in it.

You're great. I adore you.

Happy Birthday, Special K.

Love, Natz

Self-Portrait

I love how these close-up self portraits with this camera bring out the green in my eyes. And, my freckles. I forget how many freckles I have... there's pretty much zillions.

Play

Riannosaurus Rex

Hard to believe this was once a healthy, hearty sandwich. That is, until Rianne got her hands on it and commenced her ritual gutting and dismemberment of luncheon foods. Have you ever before lain eyes on such destruction?

If This Doesn't Move You, Then You're a Robot

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rooyt3ptNco

If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say... Talk About the Weather

Snow again this morning, but I can't say I really minded. The temperature was warm, and the snowflakes were huge and lovely and everything looked a little magical, like everything the snow touched was imbued with a heavenly sort of hue. Even my place of work:

I stood out front for a bit (under the little canopy, of course) and just enjoyed the moment. There's something about those few last seconds before officially starting the day that is almost luxurious, so thick with possibility and promise. I was also hoping that if I waited long enough, the perfect shot of the elements would present itself. This is what I got:

It is ridiculously hard to get a good picture of snow, at least when you are a rank amateur such as myself. But seriously, look at the size of those flakes! If I could catch them on film, you KNOW they had to have been huge. Thankfully, though, the snow stopped mid-morning and we were treated to the benevolent attentions of a gorgeous afternoon sun. Which was great, since today was The Official JWN Buenavista Social Club's first official event, a little something called Spring Fling! And, when the work day was done, it really DID feel like spring, especially as I saw something long-awaited while heading towards my bus stop:

Sure, it's a little more brown than green, but hey, I'm not picky.

Cake Day

Every month, instead of having several separate birthday celebrations, our company has one big cake day. We call it "Cake Day." It's a nice way to get a bunch of us from different departments all in the same room for a little mixin' and minglin'. AND, now that Rianne is in charge of getting the cake (with some assistance, of course) we can be assured that never again will this company's staff have to suffer through the gross misrepresentation of carrot cake as birthday cake.

Safari cake! I call dibs on the elephant booty!
Kelley, insuring that I get my choice slice. Thanks Kelley!Rianne, sans cellphone, asserting her position of authority at the table in a different way than usual.
Rawan and Joseph, starting the new trend of saying grace AFTER eating.
Alanna, who opted not to use the fork in her hand.

And, of course, my piece of cake, which I shouldn't have eaten 'cause it's not healthy but which I did because there is no way on earth I could pass up the thick glob of icing that was the pachyderm's behind.

Check out the before and after:

I'm sorry, I don't care what any of you people say, the only thing that I should find between two layers of cake is more ICING! Not pudding, not jam, not jelly, not nuthin'. Except for maybe whipped cream. And cherries, if we're talking about a black forest cake. Yum.

Field Trip!

On Tuesday we went on a field trip to Costco to pick up the birthday cake for Cake Day. It was fun! I love Costco 'cause it's filled with so much STUFF. And, I really like stuff. Kelley drove, just so that she could claim the mileage. This is the view from the back seat. I am not used to seeing it, as I always call shotgun before the rest of those suckers have the chance. This time, though...
Rianne had to aid the artificial intelligence offered by Kelley's TomTom GPS.

We made it, despite TomTom telling us to go in the exact opposite of where we needed to get to. Thanks Rianne!Marisa's second (third? fourth?) time availing herself of the free food sample stations littered throughout Costco.

Pictures of the cake and Cake Day to come!

Hilarious AND Adorable

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ysqh1uzqGrc

For L.

I like to watch your
fingers trace the taut
stretch of your guitar’s strings
and listen as you pull and
press such lovely sounds,
each a caress I almost
feel hundreds of miles
too far away. Both pain
and pleasure, oh the way
my heart betrays me,
wanting you.
Who could have known
that yours would be
the hands I wish were
twined with mine,
softly teasing out the real
and ready beating of
our hearts. I try
but will I ever hear
again a song that
doesn’t spin
my soul aloft
in search of where
you sit and coax
as if from air
those chords and riffs,
each one a glimpse
into the very core of you.
I wonder then if
when you play, there’s
some small chance
you think this way
of me.

Sad Girl

The last thing I do on my way to work in the morning is turn on my cellphone. Maybe a true cellphone user wouldn't turn their's off to begin with, but I do. Sometimes I like to be beyond reach. Turning my phone on is not my favourite thing to do, because I can't help but be a little afraid of what might be awaiting me. Anyone familiar with my family knows that this little phobia isn't unwarranted... having been on the receiving end of some pretty harrowing phone calls in the last couple of years makes me naturally wary. And, unlike my brother, I have given my number to the source of those distressing phone calls... our mother. I am also the only one of us who has given their number to our dad, who is another source of unrest... but for different reasons.

This morning, when I turned on my phone, I received a multimedia test message from my father. This is the first time I have heard anything from him since receiving the misspelled, uncapitalized, unpunctuated holiday wish that he texted me on Christmas Day. Oh, unless you want to count the meangingless emails he fowards to everyone in his Hotmail address list. Today's text was a picture of my 6 year old half-brother, perched on the edge of a desk and waving. Waving at... who? Me? That's not very likely. The kid barely knows who I am. I doubt that if you filled a room up with girls he could pick me out from the crowd as the one who shares some of the same genetic material as him. Though, we do have the same nose.

It doesn't make me happy to hear from my dad. It makes me sad. It digs up all the disappointment I've kept successfully buried since the last time he was in touch. It gets me feeling all those emotions that I'm not fond of feeling, the ugly ones that I like to live without. It reminds me of how badly I want a good father, and how, unfortunately, I just don't get one.

Crave-O-Licious

No more trips to Calgary, people! Crave Cupcakes are going to be my undoing...!

War! Huh! Yeah! What is it Good For? Absolutely Nothin'!

At 4:17pm Mountain Standard Time yesterday, a cataclysmic battle between Peeps and the Proofing Regiment of the Tiny Metal Soldier Army broke out, with tragic consequences.

According to reports, the source of the conflict occurred when a dispute over the ownership of a large cache of chocolate-y malt-y eggs arose. The unclaimed eggs appear to have been dyed in the pastel Easter-season colours that are customary to the Peep peoples, but the cache was originally discovered by a member of the Tiny Metal Soldier Army who continues to insist "Finders Keepers Losers Weepers." The eggs, which have been subject to continuous studies due to their ephemeral nature, and the fact that they only appear once per year, are a valuable source of happiness to metal people, and other non-metal people as well, which has led to battles of a similar ilk.

In this soul-stirring image captured by our intrepid field source, a lone survivor of the Tiny Metal Soldier Army kneels at the side of a fallen Peep and pays his respects.

It is unclear how the Hibachi Sumo Military Service became involved in the conflict. A representative of the group could not be contacted to offer a statement.

R.I.P. Peeps and Tiny Metal Soldier Army men.

Tax Time

Yesterday I went over to Josh and Kent's place (or Kent and Josh's place?) to do my taxes. Well, to hang out, AND to do my taxes. Even though Quicktax is pretty much the easiest program to use, when I mentioned going at it alone, Josh very sternly told me 'no'. He probably said it a meaner way, but I can't remember. The word stupid was probably mentioned, though.

Of course, much laughter was had by all (by me). Josh and Kent are hilarious on their own, but together, their powers reach unparalleled heights! They're pretty great. Every time I think that the amount of love I have for these two has reached it's apex, a new pinnacle of adoration presents itself.

Kent is the hunk... Josh is, well, the other one. *lol*

And the actual tax-related results weren't too bad. The good? I don't have to pay anything back! The not-so-good? I didn't get the $100,000 refund that I was hoping for... :-(

Sun-kissed Kitty II

Sun-kissed Kitty

Along Saskatchewan Drive

For Josh and Kent, especially... Possibly the most inappropriately situated Lookout in the entire world...

Lookout:
1. an elevated post affording a wide view;
2. a structure commanding a wide view of its surroundings

The "view" to the left

The "view" to the right

In case, like me, you were wondering who Laurence Decore was and what he did to deserve this, he used to be the mayor of Edmonton! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laurence_Decore

Little Garbage Hound

Our sink at home is filled with dirty dishes (which I promise will get done tonight 'cause that's how I spend my exciting Fridays) -- which attracts my cat Asia like, well, like a cat to dried up food on dinner plates. While she looks like the most elegant little princess kitty the world has ever seen, she is the dirtiest little garbage picker! Seriously. If we leave a bag of trash by the door, within moments she's ripped a whole in it's side and is pulling out crap to gnaw on. If there is any sort of food item left unattended for as little as two minutes, she's sinking her teeth into it. And, if there are dishes in the sink, she will root around in them until she has licked every inch of every item clean. It's disgusting, and not at all healthy for her. But mostly, it's just really annoying!

So, last night she was foraging around in the sink, as she does when there are ANY amount of dishes in there. The clinking clattering sound of her nudging plates and bowls around was driving me crazy, so I had to get up and cover the dishes with every towel we have. Then, after about 20 minutes of that not working, I ended up grabbing a fleece throw and covered the dishes with IT in the hopes she would lose interest. Well, she did... she left the kitchen and curled up under my covers with me. But, after I had my shower this morning, this is what I found:

First Day of Spring

Yesterday, as I was walking from work to my bus stop, I heard a sound that I hadn't heard in a very long time... the sound of water in motion! There is a small ravine that runs alongside the path I follow, which has been full-up with snow since the beginning of winter. But, thanks to the practically-tropical weather yesterday, the snow had melted enough to create a little stream. It just looked so pretty I couldn't resist using up nearly the last of the juice in my camera battery to take a few shots...

Popular Combination

Today, a coworker and I who had met up in the hallway ran into a third who pointed out how well coordinated we all happened to be. It wasn't until that moment that I realized all three of us were wearing burgundy on top, and black on the bottom! What a coincidence :c)

Still Loving It

Best. Dance. Album. Ever.

Published Writers Say it So Much Better

One of my favourite authors is a woman named Anne Lamott, http://www.barclayagency.com/lamott.html. The first book of hers that I read -- and am currently re-reading -- is a non-fiction book on writing called Bird By Bird. I picked it up from Greenwood's just after finishing college, when my creativity had dwindled to a trickle and there were no more school assignments to rekindle it. Yes, Bird By Bird helped me look at the process of writing with a lighter heart and a sense of humour, but more than that, it introduced me to an incredible writer whose books I enjoy devouring time and time again. It's hard for me to talk about her writing as much as I'd like, though. She is a Christian writer, and her work is infused with her own particular form of faith, and as none of my friends are religious, I feel a bit awkward gushing about her in their company. But, this woman is incredible... she makes me want to believe in something!

Not that I don't, already. I'll keep my spiritual musings to a minimum, but I do want to say that I believe that there is a higher power that exists. I believe that there is a force that is present in all living things. But, I don't have a name for it. I don't know if it has one face, or a hundred; if it is male or female; if it answers prayers or leaves us to our own devices.

I just know that the things I see around me are too beautiful to be the result of a cosmic accident.

Anyways, I was trying to clumsily explain something to a friend of mine in a message yesterday, and this morning found a passage in Bird By Bird that I think does a bit of a better job of it. Lamott wrote it in reference to creating characters, but I think it kind of works for what I was trying to say. So, here it is:

"Having a likable narrator is like having a great friend whose company you love, whose mind you love to pick, whose running commentary holds your attention, who makes you laugh out loud, whose lines you always want to steal. When you have a friend like this, she can say "Hey, I've got to drive up to the dump in Petaluma -- wanna come along?" and you honestly can't think of anything in the world you'd rather do. By the same token, a boring or annoying person can offer to buy you an expensive dinner, followed by tickets to a great show, and in all honestly you'd rather stay home and watch the aspic set.

Now, a person's faults are largely what make him or her likable. I like for narrators to be like the people I choose for friends, which is to say that they have a lot of the same flaws as I. Preoccupation with self is good, as is a tendency toward procrastination, self-delusion, darkness, jealousy, groveling, greediness, addictiveness. They shouldn't be too perfect; perfect means shallow and unreal and fatally uninteresting. I like for them to have a nice sick sense of humour and to be concerned with important things, by which I mean that they are interested in political and psychological and spiritual matters. I want them to want to know who we are and what life is all about. I like them to be mentally ill in the same sorts of ways that I am; for instance, I have a friend who said one day, "I could resent the ocean if I tried," and I realized that I love that in a guy. I like for them to have hope -- if a friend or a narrator reveals himself or herself to be hopeless too early on, I lose interest. It depresses me. It makes me overeat. I don't mind if a person has no hope if he or she is sufficiently funny about the whole thing, but then, this being able to be funny definitely speaks of a kind of hope, of buoyancy."

Now, my own list of flaws is slightly different, but you get the idea. So, ~L~, that is what I was trying to say, but in a more coherent and well-worded way than I seemed to be able to manage. :c)

Diagnosis? Dessert!

This Timbit does not have long to live.

Snacky Snack

I'm an 80-year-old on the inside...

Spring Breakup?

I hate to write about the weather, but it is a huge topic around here, at least of late. Maybe it comes with living in Alberta and suffering under a seriously bi-polar sky? I can't remember from that long ago, but do Northwest Territorians dwell so much on the vagaries of the temperature?

I was walking through the downfall of thick fluffy snowflakes on my way to work this morning and came across something in the parking lot I pass through that looked like it should be a sign of spring... if it wasn't going to be completely covered by a downy duvet of white stuff in just a few minutes.

In Hay River, spring breakup was a little more relevant than it would be in landlocked Alberta. We used to use the frozen river as a roadway during the winter months, so there was always serious caution exercised in the early days of spring as motorists tested the sturdiness of the seasonal thoroughfare. I wonder if the adults had betting pools on when it would become completely impassable? I so would! One thing I can remember, though, is my crazy mother instilling the fear of god (capital G?) in me regarding the river when I was a kid... so I'm pretty sure I never once stepped foot on it.

Can You...

...find the fruit in this picture?

What All the Fuss is About

I am addicted to Safeway's butter tarts. So much so that my brother has become something of a pusher, bringing me tarts home every few days. Sometimes he says "Dance monkey dance!" And, I do.

First of the Night

It seems like the only time I ever drink beer is when Lorraine and Dylan are in town. I think this is partly because those two are terrible influences, and partly because Dylan is the only person I trust to order me a beer I'm gonna like. This one is apparently called "Big Rock Traditional", though according to Dylan I can call it "Trad" and whoever is taking my order will know exactly what I'm talking about. If they don't, he claims, THEY are the idiots, not me. Whew. Well, whatever it's called, and no matter how weird my future best-friend-in-law thinks I am for saying it, Trad tastes like crackers! I'm not even kidding!

Yep, It's Big

"Um, Lorraine, why are you holding your ring by the window like that?"

"Cause... I'm tryin' to blind you with it!"

Game Little Rooster

I got up this morning and opened the blinds, as per my usual AM routine. I like to let in whatever light exists solely for the benefit of the cats, as they are usually the only ones around to enjoy it. So, I opened the blinds and noted to myself that while it didn't look very clear out, at least it wasn't snowing.

Then, I left about a half an hour later to meet my godparents for breakfast at the diner just down the street and this is what I found awaiting me:

Yes, that would be snow. Coming down. In buckets. Blah. But, being the game little rooster that I am, I simply flipped my coat hood up, tied the stringy-things together in a bow under my chin and forged ahead.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When I got home and looked out on the balcony, my brother's snow-covered flipflops seemed to say it all... WTF?