Graceful Chaos

Knee News

2008-08-27T00:42:00.009-04:00

Doc said you were gone.
How? I never knew your name.
A tear for my tear.

It took something pretty big to bring me out of bloggie hibernation. Here's the story:

Somewhere between 1992 and present day I lost my ACL. Like an episode of X-Files, nobody will ever know for sure when or where it left. I am left instead to contemplate the curious matter of its disappearance...

The first mystery is what and where exactly is the ACL? It looks innocuous enough...
But let me tell you, when that little sucker goes, you sure miss it. I missed it for years without even knowing I didn't have it! The experience has been engulfing enough to send me back to my oh-so-patient blog in the hopes of getting advice.

For years I thought I had a "bum knee" and cringed at those poor suckers who had REALLY bad knees leading to things like surgeries and months of rehabilitation. Well this past spring I went for a routine visit to the physiotherapist hoping to get some advice on orthotics. (Sidebar: I know I sound like I'm 80, but they really help!) Anyways, imagine my shock when I was told that my ACL is completely torn. "No, no, doctor, you have it all wrong. It can't actually be all that bad..."

It isn't.

It's worse.

After X-rays and an MRI, the casualty list has grown to include not only my ACL, but half of my meniscus, and cartilage. Most heart-stopping though was probably the incredulous look on my family doctor's face as he scanned the MRI report and repeatedly asked "Are you SURE you aren't in any pain?"

Physical pain? No. Well not yet, anyway. That will come. But there is that ache of knowing that my body has let me down and that even at the tender age of 28, I am fallible.

Leg Guitar - Round 3

2007-10-16T23:43:00.000-04:00

Perhaps I should start a theme blog, like Allison and her knitting, except my theme would be leg guitars. It's hard not to feel inspired when gazing upon a once in a lifetime find such as this. Behold!

THE DOUBLE BRIDESMAID LEG GUITAR.

*Many thanks to Lesley for making this magical moment possible.

Happy First B-Day, Bloggie!

2007-09-18T01:41:00.000-04:00

Well my first blog post was written from a hotel room in Fort McMurray, AB. Tonight, one year later, the circumstances are similar as I write from my hotel room in Dawson Creek, BC, but my situation is drastically different. I think a little reflection is healthy, and the past year has brought about many changes: I moved half way across the country, traveled all over Canada and the US, got a promotion, and celebrated the marriages and engagements of some of my closest friends. But most importantly, I've learned how to take responsibility for my happiness and be comfortable in my own skin (some things just always sound better in French). My life is still chaotic, and I still endeavor to manouver through it with all the grace I can muster.

Happy Birthday, GC, I look forward to seeing where we'll be next year!

A burning question

2007-09-10T22:02:00.000-04:00

Children's favourite street,
Roasted, stir-fried, Asian treat,
Bun decoration.

Ever wonder where sesame seeds come from? If you haven't then you've obviously missed out on the comedic stylings of Mitch Hedberg (R.I.P.) and the chance to be made to feel like the fool in a group of people pretending to know the answer. If you're like me and hate not knowing things, let me enlighten you with this:
That, my friends, is a sesame. Don't say I never taught you anything.

P.S. Happy 50th post, GC!

Ben to Shine

2007-08-07T23:04:00.000-04:00

Step 1: Go to Lollapalooza in Chicago and have a wicked time.
Step 2: Get delayed at O'Hare, miss your connecting flight, and get stranded in Toronto.
Step 3: Run into Ben Harper and snap this shot.

Leg Guitar - Round 2

2007-07-30T23:17:00.000-04:00

I was thinking of the best way to spread the word about my favourite dance move and then it hit me - a calendar! Here's my beautiful friend Allison as the the model for May:
And here's my submission for July:If anyone else has let guitar shots, send them my way!

The Single Tax

2007-06-28T00:20:00.000-04:00

I've been unattached for 10 months now and have recently noticed a disturbing trend in the way we singletons are being discriminated against. When I realised how oblivious I had been to these injustices I started examining various events that I had previously brushed off as "awkward" and "shitty." In my ruminations I discovered a startling truth: Single people are being taxed for their lifestyle choice! Let's look at the evidence:

Case 1: The Sporting Event
I am invited to a CFL football game by a friend and her boyfriend. They tell me there are cheap tickets; only $12.50. I say count me in. The catch is that the tickets are actually only sold in packets of TWO for $25.

Single tax: $12.50

Case 2: The Social Club
My friend Aaron (also a leper, er, single) and I are both new to Calgary and we decide that a great way to meet new people while exercising and enjoying the gorgeous natural wonders is to join a hiking club. While filling out our forms we notice that a summer membership for 1 is $35, while couples are invited to join for $50.

Single tax: $10

Case 3: The Vacation
The invitation arrives in the mail for my cousin's wedding at a resort in Mexico. Sand, sun, drinks... what could be better? My parents will be paying $2000 for their room, while dateless me will shell out $1350.

Single tax: $350

Don't get me wrong I know that my partner-less existence costs more in rent, bills, partying, etc. and I gladly pay that price for my independence. However, if there's something I love almost as much as my freedom, its my money. I wonder if I'll eventually be motivated to find a boyfriend out of love or poverty?

I did this!

2007-06-05T00:53:00.000-04:00

This weekend I felt totally empowered when I bought a bike AND a bike rack and manged to assemble and mount everything all by myself in the parking lot. For someone who can be a bit of a princess when it comes to doing things myself it was a big achievement. If fact, I felt sort of like how I would imagine a new mom would feel bringing home her first born... I checked and rechecked the straps on the rack, making sure everything was properly tightened and secure. I was so nervous I drove incredibly cautiously and kept looking in the rear view mirror to make sure the bike hadn't, you know, fallen off the back of the car. Ok, maybe that part wasn't so much like having a baby. But I'm sure everyone will be glad to know we both made it home fine and are doing well.*It should be noted that the sense of pride and above picture were only realised when I actually pulled into my parking spot. Phew!

Drunk in FM

2007-06-01T02:42:00.000-04:00

Drunk + Ft. McMurray + internet = ?

So we think we can dance

2007-05-25T17:43:00.000-04:00

Shining like the sun

In their hearts and in their eyes

Two flames burn as one

I attended my first Sudbury wedding last weekend! That is to say the wedding was for a friend of mine from Sudbury, although it took place in Toronto. My parents were invited, much to my delight, because it allowed us to capture this Kodak moment:

*Mom and me raising the roof.

Most people have a really close group of high school friends that met in Grade 9, suffered through the awkwardness of adolescence together, cried while that Green Day song played at their graduation, and basically cemented life long friendships.

Well my experience varied slightly. Having gone to three different high schools I didn't have the luxury of gossiping in homeroom with my best friend every morning or eating lunch at the same "our table" every day for 5 years. Instead I met, through various means, four amazing girls, now grown into incredible women, and we did things a little differently. We formed a band.

A punk rock band.

A punk rock band named B-OTCH.

Luckily that experience (more than skipping algebra class to smoke behind the quad) has knit the 5 of us together forever. And now, sniff sniff, the first member of the B-OTCH crew is hitched! But we didn't lose a friend... We gained a triangle player. Congratulations Allie and Costin!*B-OTCH: Bree (guitar); Amy (keyboards, vocals); Allison (vocals); Carrice (bass guitar); Me (drums, sort of).

Editor's Note: Stayed tuned for another picture of the bride that deserves its own post entirely.

All My Ex's Live In...

2007-05-14T23:47:00.000-04:00

Armed with a pocket full of American quarters for toll roads and a couple wrinkled Google maps to orient myself, I hit up Texas for the weekend. My rental car and I quickly became best friends, until the radio station insisted on playing Nickleback every 3rd song. I can't believe Americans won't take our beef but they'll gobble up our crappy yowler bands. But I quickly cheered myself up with a new hat:
I checked out Crystal Beach on the Bolivar Peninsula, only to discover that everbody just drives their cars, sorry, trucks all over the beach, which grossed me out from an ecological point of view, but I started to see the benefits when this guy rolled up with his tastey frozen treats:
The child-nerd in me spent way too much time at the Johnson Space Centre hanging out (that one was for Allie) with this guy:
If only I didn't just see a news piece about girls getting botox for prom to sour my lovin' feelings for the Lone Star State.

Being busy is boring

2007-05-11T05:32:00.000-04:00

Edmonton, Houston,
Toronto, Victoria.
Maybe May is full?

Travel sure can make the days seem too short, but I like to keep busy so I've (over) scheduled myself this month. Or maybe I'm just worried that my new age (27) will start to slow me down? So that would mean I'm (over) compensating (with brackets?) for insecurities this month!

Memoires of Edmonton

2007-04-27T00:59:00.000-04:00

I was in Edmonton for work this week and managed to entertain myself by walking around downtown with my camera! Here's a picture my boyfriend the timer took of me:
I thought this sign was funny, do most people walk faster than 30 km/h?
If so, you'd better slow the f**k down on the legislature grounds!
Another one of me, but timer needs to learn how to zoom.

Too friendly

2007-04-18T00:19:00.000-04:00

My co-worker just told me I'm "too friendly" because I chatted with the drunk, homeless man at the mailbox when mailing my letters just now. Is there such a thing as too friendly? Is there a politically correct term for "homeless man"?

Introducing the Leg Guitar

2007-04-14T22:28:00.000-04:00

I plan on single-handedly bringing this skilled and legitimate dance move to entire new demographic.
*Pictured above is the seated version of the leg guitar, I will endeavor to capture the elusive standing leg guitar on film.

Home town pride

2007-04-11T11:09:00.000-04:00

I went to a live taping of comedy shorts last night with some old friends from Sudbury and of course a lot of the jokes were making fun of Calgary, but especially ripping into Edmonton, with whom they have a massive rivalry. I'm not used to this, seeing as Toronto was always too self-absorbed to care what any other cities thought of it.

Now, I know it's a faux pas to try to repeat comedians jokes because they're never as funny when you're not in the moment, but I thought this one might translate ok:

"At the Calgary Stampede we have a great petting zoo where all the kids can come and play with the Animals.

At the Edmonton Klondike Days they have a heavy petting zoo. It's called the Beer Tent."

Editor's Note: Sorry for the all text post. I will have home internet (and, inshallah, furniture) as of this Friday, so pictures will be forthright!

What 3,500 kms looks like

2007-04-04T18:46:00.000-04:00

Divided highway.
Rocks & trees bleed into plains.
Homeless heart drives on.

I made it! But how's this for foreshadowing: my first act on Alberta soil was to wipe out on some ice:

and my first experience in the City of Calgary was to have my car towed:

Good thing I'm learning not to take anything (ie. LIFE!) too seriously!

Day 1: Toronto to Sault Ste. Marie

2007-03-31T08:56:00.000-04:00

On the way to Sudbury we had to stop for this quintessential road trip photo:
Our accomodations in the Sault (aka Rick and Jeanette's new house!)

The couch equation (a.k.a. I'm moving to Calgary!)

2007-03-28T17:51:00.000-04:00

I was amazed when my couch actually squeezed into my apartment the first time, apparently breaking all the laws of physics. Needless to say, I was worried about reversing the equation. Would it require some creative calculations? Crazy quadratics? Was it even possible? I needn't have worried. Below, I present the very tidy solution:

Q.E.D.

Now my couch (and everything else I own) is waiting patiently in the dark, on this 18 wheeler, until it begins its journey, hurtling silently across the country to its destination: CALGARY!

Gong Show

2007-03-18T17:37:00.000-04:00

I know bachelorette parties are supposed to be crazy, but when you have a friend like Brianne you end up with cakes like this:
And transportation like this:
And pictures of the bride-to-be like this:
And, of course, mornings like this:

I got ROCKED: A Musical Review

2007-03-14T00:11:00.001-04:00

My neighbour Michelle scored me a free ticket to go see the invitation dress rehearsal of "We Will Rock You". I had a fleeting thought of refusing it on account of "it's a week night" and "I'll get home late." But then I snapped out of it with the logic that I'll have plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead. Or married. Whichever comes first.

Fueled by a bag of heart smart potato chips (?), I headed downtown:
A lady in line told me she'd seen another production and that it had no story line, just a lot of songs. How wrong she was! The whole thing is set in the future, when all music is computer generated and controlled by an evil, all powerful corporation. The downfall of rock and roll is traced back to our current day and attributed the popularity of American Idol. The protagonist rebels (Bohemians) had to bring back rock (the rhapsody).

I love it.

I know nothing about show biz so it's pretty easy to impress me, but I thought the costumes (alternately punk rock sexy and robot androgynous) and singing were top notch. Not to mention that the cute lead was Quebecois and had the most endearing accent. My absolute favourite numbers were Another One Bites the Dust, Only the Good Die Young, and I want it All, but they were all good. There were plenty of pop culture (Britney's bald head) and Toronto (Maple Leaf Gardens) references for those urban aficionados out there.

But be warned! If you have the luck to see a performance, you may be inexplicably drawn to the merch table. I was:

Rarer than Bigfoot

2007-03-11T22:49:00.000-04:00

Midget Beetlejuice
Entertaining drunk gringos
When is your Spring Break?

There are certain things in this world that are so strange, so bizarre, you can not believe what your eyes are seeing even when it is right in front of your face. Luckily I was able to clear my head just long enough to take a picture of just such an event I witnessed last week at a bar in Cancun:

Mexican or Mexican't?

2007-03-03T12:10:00.000-05:00

People who know me have probably noticed that I've become a little more "girly" in the last 6 months... But who knew it could ever come to this:

That's right, this is everthing I'm bringing for my ONE WEEK vacation to Mexico... Someone needs to stop me before it gets completely out of control!

Organized Rhyme

2007-03-01T21:56:00.001-05:00

March coming in like a lion? You ain't got nothing on these guys.

Pet Peeve #1

2007-02-27T22:42:00.000-05:00

I don't rant very often but I feel that someone needs to take up the good fight on this one. When did it ever become a good idea to phrase a sentence with the following structure: "Not to... but..." You know, like "Not to offend you, but your body odour makes my eyes water". People: if you are going to consciously, openly offend/disapoint/insult/judge something just do it! Or don't say anything! Announcing that you are about to hurt someone's feelings and then doing it anyway has got to be against some sort of city bylaw.

The Perfect Break-up

2007-02-22T17:33:00.000-05:00

Well it happened again. Another relationship comes to an end leaves each party feeling a little empty, even if I believe I'm in a better place now. We were together for only 9 months and in that time we shared some great moments; laughter and tears and everything in between. He never failed to be there when I needed him and he was great at remembering to deliver my messages. But in the end he just didn't have everything I needed from him. Well, that and he had no bundle option.

I think this card exhibits a very mature attitude, although it does creep me out a bit. Perhaps all break-ups should be covered by the "no contact for 3 months rule".

Me, Mom & Chuck

2007-02-14T23:24:00.001-05:00

Valentine's day. Single. Recipe for disaster? Not when your Mom comes over to keep you company and ends up showing you things like this on "the YouTube". If you're not familiar with Chuck Berry, prepare to be entertained:

The American Dream

2007-02-05T21:27:00.000-05:00

One, Two, Three, Four, I declare a chilli war!
There is only one way to celebrate the superbowl: EXCESSIVELY. This year my friends Lesley and Naveen hosted a party with the theme "America, F*ck ya!" to truly get everyone in the spirit of overconsuming. The feature event (besides the football game in HD, of course) was the chilli cook-off. There were six entries that ranged from vegetarian to all meat, bland to spicy. I managed to sample a healthy portion of each one... Leading me to believe that you can actually get stoned off of too much meat. After we were sufficiently gorged, a fuzzy, glazed look settled over everyone. Or maybe that was just my meat high talking?Dude, that was some bitchin' Korean BBQ!

How to get along

2007-01-30T21:04:00.000-05:00

In this day of warring countries, embittered politicians, jaded youth, changing climates, fallen idols, broken homes, doped-up atheletes, and unbelievably bad tv shows its nice to see two opinionated individuals put aside their differences and walk a kilometer in another fan's jersey.

Learning to fly

2007-01-23T23:25:00.000-05:00

I used to give a lot of credit to one person in my life for my happiness. Whatever I achieved, whenever I succeeded, I downplayed it or I praised someone else.

Reflecting on this has lead me to this new outlook (steel yourself for the fromage metaphor): I imagine that we were flying and I was so scared to ever let go because I thought I'd go tumbling to the ground if I didn't have him to hang on to. But when it happened, when I detached myself, I faltered, but I didn't fall. And now that I'm able to stop and look around, I can see why: I have my own wings, and they're what keep me here.

Halloween in January

2007-01-22T22:01:00.000-05:00

I love dressing up any time of year, as evidenced in this photo. I was even inspired to write this haiku*:

Pretty girl in white,
will it ever be your turn?
Only time will tell.

*To be read with a healthy dose of irony.

Foot-in-Mouth Disease

2007-01-15T21:17:00.000-05:00

Picture this: We're in the cab between bars on Saturday night. I'm sitting in the front because for some reason when I've been drinking I love riding shotgun in the cab. Anyways, I say to the cabbie "Thanks for taking us downtown, sir" to which he mumbles something (remember I'm drunk) and calls me ma'am! I was kinda jokingly insulted and I said "oh no, I'm not a Ma'am, I'm a Miss!" At this point my three friends (also drunk) are killing themselves laughing in the back, so I ask them what's so funny, but they're laughing too hard and just shaking their heads saying "we'll tell you later."

So we finally get to a bar and I'm dying to know: What is so funny? It is this: The cab driver was a woman. She was actually correcting me when I thought she was calling me Ma'am. How BRUTAL is that?

On a less embarrassing note, I'd like you to meet my new boyfriend:

This is Roy, he was our entertainment at the Christmas party I was at. He also did Elvis, but I was raised on Roy Orbison so he's got a special place in my heart.

10 reasons why

2007-01-06T12:17:00.000-05:00

... my iPod is better than a boyfriend.

10. My iPod encourages me to get out and exercise.
9. My iPod does whatever I tell him to do.
8. My iPod can come with me to work and nobody thinks that's weird.
7. My iPod will wear the outfits I buy him (BONUS: we can match!).
6. My iPod and I have unlimited options for "our song".
5. My iPod has a great memory.
4. My iPod goes wherever I want.
3. My iPod is so easy to shop for.
2. My iPod can accommodate all my mood swings (BONUS: with no complaining!)

And the #1 reason my iPod is better than a boyfriend:

I control when he's turned on!

*Me and jPod hangin' on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

NYE @ the Maddy

2007-01-01T12:23:00.000-05:00

Countdown to midnight,
Drinking, dancing all night long.
Red and black diva!

The Madison actually provided a pretty decent place to rock NYE '07. Since I got an entire day of shopping when I was in Victoria for the Christmas holidays I had to time to put together this pimpin' outfit:

I thought the dress was too low cut, but the sales clerk assured me that "cleavage is in." I wasn't aware that it was ever out.

Music options for the evening included cheeze dance music (provided by a belly shirt wearing cougar), live Irish type band and of course the beloved Piano Man! He is so awesome its scary. The dinner crowd was older, but once they opened the doors to the public it was mayhem! Ahh drunken frat boys, when will you learn that:

a) impersonating your favourite movie character (Borat) is not the way to pick up girls; and

b) nobody thinks you are cool when you start fights, mouth off to bouncers and get your drunken ass kicked out of the bar.

British Invasion

2006-12-17T12:47:00.000-05:00

Kelly, Claire, Heather, me and Lesley rocking out to live bands at the Horseshoe Tavern. Beer was consumed, friends were made, blow-up Santa dolls were molested. All in all just another regular night with our darling friends from the UK. Good thing we promised to go visit them in 2008. Woot!

Rancid Concert Review

2006-12-12T01:18:00.000-05:00

Amy and I were lucky enough to get free tickets (a factor which increased my enjoyment of the show) to see the all ages Rancid at the Cool House on Monday. We missed the opening band, but I think it was the Planet Smashers. Or someone covering the Planet Smashers. Regardless it was some upbeat ska to start the night. Fun!

We had just enough time to grab a beer between bands and catch up. Then it was time! The filler music stopped and the crowd started buzzing. Black and white footage starting playing on the back drop interspersed with mug shots of the Rancid band members. A little self-righteous, but they're old so I let it slide.

They were energetic from the start and the pit was rocking. I danced my way close enough to get a clip of Lars before my camera took a little beating and stopped working. You probably can't tell what Lars is wearing, but it cracked me up. It looked like an orange/green stripped body suit with a muscle shirt over top. Sorry for the piss poor camera work, I'm new at this!

They played a good set, lots of old stuff, some decent stadium chanting. I really enjoyed the encore which they opened with an acoustic version of "Fall Back Down" off their 2003 album. I think the youngins in the house just wanted more moshing, but being old, I appreciated Rancid slowing it down for a bit. I think Tim Armstrong might have had another motive: to prove he can actually play guitar since it was pretty much an accessory for the rest of the show. To give him credit its probably hard to play when you're busy giving the finger to the crowd. Then the drummer came back and they threw it back 17 years to the Operation Ivy days and graced us with "Knowledge". Makes you a little nostalgic for the old teenage years.

Maid's Dress - Option 1

2006-12-11T19:37:00.000-05:00

So here's the first suggestion for my October debut as a bridesmaid. I think they're pretty! I wonder if the bubbles are included? :)

Another version with the sashes in the front. I can't wait until the real deal!

3 days; 3 Amies (epic)

2006-12-10T14:14:00.000-05:00

I am hugely addicted to order and patterns. The mathematical side of my brain, I guess. Obivously, I was stoked when I realized that I had plans to hang out with three ladies named Amy/Aimee in three consecutive days last week and that each represents a very different stage of my life. Here's how it went down:

Thursday with Amy M (aka Anarchist Amy). Amy is easily my longest friend, we first met in Grade 8. She represents my Sudbury upbringing, my puck rock roots. She knows me to my core and is always an inspiration in how honestly and openly she lives her life. We met up and went for drinks at the Green Room. We discussed everything from relationships to Trotsky (Amy discussed, I listened). Back at her place we stayed up chatting until 1:30 in the AM. My favourite part of the night was when we were discussing being single and Amy said that after her last relationship her slogan is "Ha màs", Spanish for "Never again". We had both fallen into a pattern of depreciation in our last relationships, small allowences became unfulfilled needs, until we were fed up. After our conversation I promised myself that I will "never again" spend time pinning for any man who doesn't deserve my love and attention. (NOTE: This conversation was compounded on a comment my best friend Kelly made earlier in the evening: "Jess, I have higher standards for you than you do for yourself." What have I been doing with my life?)

Friday with Aimee. Due to my copius amounts of travel I avoid making commitments I probably can't keep, which includes sports teams. Luckily my friend Aimee is rediculously active (usually on at least 3 teams at any given time) and invites me out to co-ed events whenever they "need a girl." So Friday night was volleyball, which I haven't played in ages (evident by my missing most of my serves). As soon as the rotation was explained to me we got into a wicked groove. We were 4 and 2 by the end of the night and I was sweaty and smiling. Afterwards, Aimee, her boyfriend Jack (best story teller ever - ask about the "dildo story"), and I went for beers and munchies. All in all the most active and rewarding Friday night I've ever had.

Saturday with Amy C. Although we met each other at work less than two years, Amy and I have made up for it in hours of conversation logged. We kept missing each other due to work and illnesses so we decided to hook up on Saturday to go Christmas shopping. Her awesome fiancé Daryl joined us, and the trio headed down to the Eaton's Centre for some sensory overload. Amy filled the Subway ride with anecdotes from her office Chirstmas party the previous night (co-workers and free booze are never a good mix). Normally I ban malls at Christmas time, but it was a logical place to start. To complete the picture we got some Starbucks coffee and hit the stores. A question that arose as Amy was picking out boxer shorts for her brother: Why is it that men wear baggy cotton shorts under their jeans and women get stuck with low-rise thongs? I mean really, the differential in fabric usage is astounding.
That's Amy and me in our "Kill All Humans" t-shirts.

There you have it! 3 days, 3 Amies (those of you who remember your core French will recognize that the plural of "Amy" is also the plural, feminin form of "friend". I couldn't resist :)

The only constant thing...

2006-12-06T20:45:00.000-05:00

...is change. I found out last week that my career guru, my office idol is resigning! I have so much respect for this man; he's smart but humble and treats his clients as his number one priority. In the past ten months that we've been working and traveling together I've learned so much and advanced my career exponentially. So obviously, I'm upset. Now, the grown-up in me says that I shouldn't take it personally, that this is a great opportunity for him and that he doesn't have any obligation to stay and mentor me.

However.

The single-child in me who hates not getting what I want is having a tantrum! A juvenile, fists-pounding-the-floor, two-year-old in the mall, TANTRUM! I want to scream that its just not fair! I liked what I was doing, where I was going... What is going to happen to ME? How does this affect MY life?

Of course I don't actually say any of this. Mostly I just pout to myself. But really I know that deep, deep, DEEP down I'm happy for my co-worker, my friend. And I know I'll bounce back. Right now, though, with all the other crap going on in my life, I just wish I didn't have to deal with it.

F'n cold

2006-11-27T23:44:00.000-05:00

McMurray cold snap.
Balaclavas, block heaters.
Absolute zero.*

So I'm a bit of a science geek. I remember when I was learning about temperature in school and I asked my Dad about the logic behind the Fahrenheit temperature scale. You see, Celsius was understandable: zero is set at something basic like water freezing and 100 at water boiling. Kelvin: set zero at the absolute coldest possible temperature and go up from there! My logical little brain could understand all that. ...But Fahrenheit? This bidness made no sense whatsoever. My Dad explained (and this is the equivalent of bedtime stories for us nerds) that at the time this dude Fahrenheit was inventing temperature he also set his scale at what he was able to measure as the coldest possible temperature. I just looked it up in my handy dandy conversion table and 0 F is equal to... MINUS EIGHTEEN CELSIUS (aka summer in Northern Alberta). That was the best he could do? Come on! It was -30 when I got off the plane last night in Fort McMurray and my nose hairs haven't unstuck since.

*I wanted to add many more "F'n" expletives, but there are just too few syllables in f'n haikus.

Bridesmaid!

2006-11-23T21:12:00.000-05:00

Can I just say I AM SO STOKED! Last night my good friend Joanna (who just got engaged, way to go Tim!) called and asked me the question I wasn't sure I would ever hear: "Will you do me the honour of becoming my bride(smaid)?" I was on the bus, crying, and bouncing off the walls. A bridesmaid? Me? What better excuse to be unabashedly girly, unapologetically giddy, and completely over the top? Not to mention the fun parties and pretty dresses. This is by far the best news I've had in awhile :)

And it gets even better: the wedding isn't until next October so this is just the beginning!

Metaphor

2006-11-19T22:47:00.000-05:00

Imagine you're at the zoo. As you pass the monkey cage you stop to observe these amazing creatures. You're entranced. Their gestures, their interactions are so familiar... so reminiscent of human relations. One monkey stares at you with a look of such deep understanding in his soulful eyes that you think to yourself: Could they be thinking, feeling, wondering the same way we do? Could they be loving, hurting, dreaming like us? Are we really any different?

Then you notice the monkey doing something, but you can't quite figure out... oh, he's reaching around and grabbing... his own fecal matter. He then winds up, launches the warm mass, which lands squarely on your pant leg, and scampers off laughing.

Life is like a monkey: Just when you start to take it too seriously it throws shit at you as a reminder that you should just laugh at it and move along to the giraffe exhibit.

Shock de culture

2006-11-18T21:36:00.000-05:00

Last week I was in Montreal (or more accurately Dorval) for work. I was a little nervous because the scope of the project was out of my comfort zone, not to mention that I had to conduct all business in French. However I fancy myself as having a little Quebecois in me (laid back and all that), so I figured a good attitude would get me through the week. It was with this mindframe that I sat, sweaty-palmed, as the opening meeting (attended by 10 French Canadians and me) was wrapping up. I had successfully navigated my way through a french introduction of myself (I even got a laugh out of everyone!) and was finally starting to relax a little.

We were discussing the logistics of our visit to the site, starting with a tour of the facility. At this point it should noted that this facility uses some nasty, smelly chemicals which we could potentially be exposed to during our tour. As we're just about finished, the Health & Safety rep practically yelled at me from across the room,

"Jessica, are you pregnant or think you might be? Even if you're just trying, there are certain areas you shouldn't visit."

Just like that. In front of everybody. I tried to maintain my composure, but I was so shocked! I checked my translation, was that actually what she said? Yes. Did she just ask me an incredibly personal and sensitive question in a room full of people I've never met before? Yes. Was everyone looking at me waiting for an answer? YES! I imediately thought of using humour as self-defense and saying something like "That would imply that I've actually had sex in the last 2 months, so no!" But luckily I quickly realized that a) I had no idea how to get that across in French and b) a comment like that might actually make everything more awkward. I managed to stammer a "non" and shake my violently to impress on them that I was definitely NOT preggers. Everyone seemed to accept this and moved on with the meeting. I was a little shaken, but I had a job to do, so I got over it.

Later that evening over dinner and drinks with my co-worker (who is 100% Quebecois) I casually brought up the situation to reassure myself that I wasn't in the wrong. I was going on and on about how awkward it was, how I couldn't believe she asked me that, etc. when I noticed a strange looked on his face. "You know", he said slowly. "It really wasn't a big deal. Nobody even noticed." I must not have looked convinced because he shrugged his shoulders and added "You don't have to be such an anglophone about it."

Fleeting thoughts

2006-11-07T23:57:00.000-05:00

Today I set a new record for my over traveled self: Three plane trips. That's three take offs and three landings. On any other day I may not have even remarked on this milestone, but the varying weather patterns between Fort McMurray (aka Fort McFreezing-my-ass-off) and Calgary made sure that these trips into the upper atmosphere would not go unnoticed. This morning I drove to the aiport in a snowstorm that did not permit me to exceed 30 kph in my rented Matrix. Yet somehow deciding to become airborne is a good idea! Of course in this situation they don't just take off and get it over with, they let you pile onto the plane (Dash-8, mind you) and sit on the runway while the snow heaps on faster than the attendants (who can barely grow facial hair) can wipe it off with that most technical of all airplane accessories - the broom. I'm surprised Swiffer hasn't cornered this market yet.

Regardless, I survive the morning excursions with barely an increase in my heart rate. I must be immune to any irrational plane phobias by now, right? Well, warm and safe on the ground in a snow storm is different than an entire flight from YYC to YMM with so much turbulence that the beer cart girl (sorry, flight attendent) couldn't make her rounds! Now that's a traumatizing flight experience.

The finer things

2006-10-23T12:26:00.000-04:00

A priviledged life.
Tones? Muted. Palettes? Bland, gray.
The stench of status.

I travel for work. A lot. So much that this year I achieved Air Canada Elite Status well before the December 31st deadline. I received my card and dutifully attached my luggage tag, not fully realizing the significance of being deemed as Elite. What does it mean? Not a whole lot: lounge access prior to your flight, upgrades to business class, some extra points. I've already visited the lounges in a couple, albeit smaller, air ports (Calgary, Edmonton, Quebec) when traveling with my boss (Status: Super Elite). It's nice to have a free BEvERage or two and some snacks, but I never thought of it as a big deal. Until today.

I used to cut it close with my flights out of Toronto. But since the onset of the new carry-on rules (rant: the airline's attempt at making passengers feel safe from terrorist threats by banishing the most inane items, but still letting you have whatever it was they were adamantly against two months ago) I've started coming to the airport well in advance of even the recommended lead time. Today I was early enough to have the privilege of visiting the Air Canada lounge in Terminal 1. I was totally unprepared for what greeted me as I got off the elevator.

First, this place is massive. It's 20,000 carpeted square feet with heaps of chairs and tables for, I guess, lounging. The style is fit for a trendy downtown club. There's access to conference rooms and (ready for this?) showers. God forbid anyone with status have that weary, haggard look of most travelers. Second: An army couldn't consume all the food and drink. There's hot soup, a salad bar, a fully stocked alcohol bar, huge bowls of fresh fruit everywhere. Third: Huge panoramic windows look over the runway and Mississauga skyline.

Right now I'm comfortably seated in my leather lounge chair, enjoying free internet and the steaming hot 100% Colombian coffee resting on the marble table in front of me. I decided against food since I got upgraded to business class and I know I'll be provided with a hot, free meal during my flight. Maybe its because I'm currently reading a series of lectures by Stephen Lewis about the dire situation in Africa, but this all just strikes me as being so excessive. But hey, as Ron Burgundy says, 'When in Rome...'

Raks Sharqi

2006-09-25T21:48:00.000-04:00

Double hip sit, dip,
Shoulder shimmy, figure eights.
Curves that move like... this!

Belly dancing! I just took my second class at a local health center and it is awesome. Sorry, AWESOME! We're learning a dance routine to Black Eyed Peas "My Humps", maybe not the most traditional belly dancing song, but definitely fun. And dangerous. I can just imagine Lesley (who is also newly addicted) and myself innocently out dancing one Saturday night and that song coming on... It could be a recipe for disaster! Because as much as I *think* I look sexy, my limited skills combined with alcohol might be more akin to muscle spasms while experiencing a high voltage electric shock. But as long I'm having fun, that's all that matters, right?

Top 5 reasons to be a bellydancer:
5. You can entertain yourself at spotlights by practicing chest isolations.
4. Costumes!
3. You can have a perfectly good reaons to tote around a sword.
2. You can sing along to lyrics in a foreign language with no idea of what they mean.

And the number one reason to be a bellydancer...

1. It doesn't seem so much like "excercise" when you're wearing chiffon!

DJ PressPlay

2006-09-21T00:23:00.000-04:00

Soundtrack to my life;
A piece of me, of you, there.
Play it one more time

What is it about certain traumatizing events that cause us to break all the rules? For example, I have a strong personal belief about not repeating songs. You know how tween girls love to do with their Backstreet Boys (or whatever they listen to). This principle was developed during my year at boarding school when I had an actual ROOMmate. As in we co-habitated a 9 x 9 cell (aka dorm), with bunkbeds and everything. The horror. Being an only child thrown into that situation was not cool; the mere concept of sharing anything, let alone a bedroom, was completely foreign to me. So please understand that I had some feeling of animosity towards Abi from the very beginning. The relationship may have been salvageable, if it hadn't been for one irrefutable fact: she was a Song-Repeater. She loved to play songs, or more accurately ONE song, over and over until it was the only thing I could hear in my head. A lobotomy could not remove this thing. The song that year, and I will never forget it as long as I live, was Murder She Wrote by Chaka Demus and Pliers (I had to look that up and frankly its hilarious). If you're not familiar with this particular piece of musical diarrhea, count your blessings. You're missing out on such inspired lyrics as:

Now dis one dedicated to the girls
Dem wid di angel face and the devil heart
Yuh no say Ragamuffin Chaka Demus an youth called Pliers
Come to deal with your case
Step up my youth - Hear dis!

Multiply that my 100 decibels and 2 million hours and you might begin to comprehend the slightest measure of my pain. Oh, and then there's the unforgettable chorus:

Murder she wrote (fi real fi real)
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote

Dat is 100% fi real. I could not be makin dat up, mon.

Needless to say, my personal values lie strictly against song repetition. It's juvenile, it's annoying, it's insulting. However, now is a time of rule-breaking and I have found myself listening to the same 10 Dashboard songs for two weeks strait, probably ruining any future enjoyment of the album in the process. My life is being played out in 40 minute segments. And I'm not talking about idle background music. Un-uh. This is loud, passionate, sing-along, full-tilt consumption of the music. I'm thinking about the 1200 steps I'll need to kick this addiction.

That was until today, when salvation arrived. A concerned friend (no doubt worried about my mental stability since my vocabulary was reduced to only Dashboard lyrics) actually mailed me a new CD! Aside from the excitement of getting an actual present in the actual mail (you can touch it!), the CD is perfect. City and Colour (3 cheers for proper Canadians spelling) is suitably raw and haunting, and will accompany me in my endeavors indefinitely.

As long as I keep breaking the rules...

Blog Virgin

2006-09-17T00:11:00.000-04:00

A haiku dedicated to my newborn blog:

Join the ranks of geeks!
Justify my existence.
Audience? Unknown.

Recently (like last week) when I went through some serious life changes (like the end of a long-term relationship) I told my friend Allison that I thought I might like to start a blog. Her advice was this: Don't be shy about posting random crap about your life. I'm thinking I'll heed this advice as Allison is a credible source; she has been blogging successfully about her knitting and her life for almost 2 years. So here it is! (Pat myself on the back.)

Not to dwell on the negative, but there is a nagging voice in the back of my head. It says it can already foresee problems with Jessica-as-blogger. Well, only one problem, but its a doozie. The dilemma is this: I'm a false-starter and I'm in denial. What does this mean? That I love to get really worked up and excited about an idea, maybe even make the first few steps to making it reality, then, regardless of any immediate gratification, drop the entire thing. I have proof of this condition. Observe the madness: a never-used snowboard, a hard-to-store exercise ball (soon to be accompanied by a yoga mat, I'm sure), totes of yarn, several journals with only the first three pages used, cookbooks and kitchen paraphernalia, art supplies for making greeting cards, empty plant pots, a friggin' tackle box and, obviously, associated tackle, the list goes on! It may just sound like I'm a pack-rat, but I'm telling you, I am a false-starter. The denial part comes in the way that I keep telling myself I will take up all these activities some day and really, really enjoy them. Actually, admitting it out-loud feels good. Hopefully admission is first step to my recovery, if any is possible. Just know, dear self, that blogger could quickly be added to your list of poser hobbies.

While I'm being honest with myself, I should admit the real reason that this blog is even being pulled out of the realm of daydream and into reality. The reason is this: I am bored stupid because I am being held against my will. Don't be alarmed, but it's true! Basically I'm a prisoner in a hotel in Fort McMurray (a post unto itself) while I'm here for work. On its own, this situation is yucky, but bearable. Now here's the kicker: It's Saturday night. Not the end of the world for most people, but I just happen to be a person who lives for going out and socializing on Saturday nights. I'm being very serious right now. Out of everything I've ever started, I've remained 100% committed to celebrating les Samedi soirs. Getting stupid and staying out late on Saturdays is essentially a religion for me! I worship the deities of cold beer and loud music! I subscribe to the belief that God meant to slur "Let there be alcohol and parties" on the sixth day! This is bordering on persecution!

That's it, I'm taking my fate into my own hands. I'm going to search for a beverage in the hotel bar before it closes.

Pray for me.