Knee News

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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!

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

Drunk + Ft. McMurray + internet = ?

So we think we can dance

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...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!)

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

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: