Fall-ing

Today, it feels like fall has FINALLY arrived. And I couldn't be happier. All day I've felt that need to be cozy that appears when the weather first starts to get cold... the desire to curl up in a blanket, put on a good movie I've seen a million times, and hibernate for a couple of hours. The grocery store all of a sudden has apple cider, and pomegranates, and pumpkins, and a huge variety of squash. I bought nutmeg, ginger and cinnamon sticks in preparation for my weekend. I wore a cozy jacket to the beach this afternoon (although my feet were bare... and are now slightly frozen). Tonight's dinner is creamy sweet potato soup (possibly with a "Fall Harvest" beer...).

It's the south. It's "cold" (aka, warm for this time of year in Canada), and I am remembering why I love fall so much.

So now I'm going to go find my fuzzy blanket, curl up on the couch, and nap in front of 'Love Actually'. Anticipating a brilliant weekend of similar pursuits :)

Sweet Potatoes: The Indecisive Tubers

I just don't get sweet potatoes.

Sure, on the outside they kind of look like potatoes... but cut them open and they're the colour of cantaloupe. Slice them into "fries", they look like carrot sticks. They're in the vegetable category, but they taste sweet like fruit.

What gives?

I'm still on the fence about the presence of sweet potatoes on my grocery list. Fries are currently in the oven... we'll see how they rank.

The Sand Dollar

Today, I took a walk on the beach.

Ever since my first here, I’ve wanted to find a whole sand dollar. One intact, perfectly round, pristinely white sand dollar. That’s not too much to ask, right? So every day as Koda and I take our stroll I keep my eyes on the damp sand, looking for the telltale curve of delicate ivory.

Today, the beach was a necessity. With Koda, a travel mug full of calming coffee, and sand between my toes, I walked to achieve sanity and balance. The beach, uncrowded and cool, was the type of setting that matched my mood so perfectly it would have had my grade 12 English teacher jumping up and down in ecstasy yelling “can you see the pathetic fallacy??” (She really loved her literary devices…) The sky was dark, on the verge of rain that, besides a few stray drops, it managed to keep contained. The wind was strong and chaotic, blowing in all directions at once. The waves churned and crashed on the shore, as if releasing the pent up frustrations and furies of the day. And so, in the company of my pathetic fallacy, I walked.

I decided that today would be the day I would find my sand dollar. Today was the day I needed to find my sand dollar. Finding this elusive sand dollar would make the frustrations and life’s little annoyances fade to the background, and my foul mood would disappear. And so I searched. I looked purposefully and thoroughly, treading carefully in the sand and poking at anything white with my toes. Then when that didn’t pan out, I heeded the old advice that when you stop looking for something, that’s when you’ll find it. So I stopped looking. And guess what?


I didn’t find my sand dollar.

I know that’s not the answer you were expecting, but that’s the end result. I spent over an hour (days, weeks…) searching for my perfect sand dollar, and never found it. I was fully expecting to find it. I figured that I would stumble over it accidentally, a sign that perfection existed somewhere in this world, and that it was within my reach. I didn’t find what I was looking for.

But I realized something on that beach. Sometimes, even if you don’t find what you’re looking for, you stumble across something beautiful and unexpected. A piece of coral washed up on the sand, a deep orange shell so large it could be used as a drinking glass, a piece of a conch which, if intact, could very well be the size of your head. And all of a sudden it doesn’t matter that it isn’t round, or pristine white. It becomes special and perfect in its own way.

And I also realized that I was passing over beautiful shards of sand dollars, halves and quarters and three-quarters, just because they weren’t perfect. They weren’t complete. But maybe that is the beauty of sand dollars: while they are lovely and pure in their unflawed form, they show a fragility and weakness that other tougher shells don’t exhibit. They lose pieces of themselves along the way, sometimes only a little, sometimes a lot. Sometimes they lose so much that they are barely recognizable. But they are still beautiful, still perfect in their imperfections. Maybe, just maybe, they are waiting to be picked up, waiting for that one thing that will make them feel whole again.

Maybe that’s all we can hope for… to love our imperfections. To find what makes us feel whole.

Today I took a walk on the beach. Today, I feel better.

The Fox and the Hound(?)*

*The "Hound" has a question mark because I don't actually know if Koda is part hound or not. Signs (and sounds) point to yes.

Immediately after writing the previous post, I decided to take Koda to the beach to work off some of the energy and boredom (hers and mine). We went down to Radio Island, the closest beach to us (albeit the smallest). Since it was only her second time visiting the ocean, Koda was far more interested in walking and sniffing than actually playing, even though I made sure to bring a tennis ball for fetch. So we walked and sniffed and collected shells for about an hour, then decided to head back home and get some dinner. But, on our way back up the beach, a very unexpected visitor was blocking our path:



Not the usual fox you'd see at the beach... for one thing, this one wasn't in a tiny bikini. But it was there all the same! Koda and I kept our distance and just watched as it played in the sand, ate some pieces of fish that some beach-goers threw to it, and lounged in the shade. I was a little worried at first, because it seemed rather interested in Koda (I think it was confused by the ears... they had the same ones), but Koda was good and just sat and watched, not once trying to chase it.

Apparently this particular fox is a regular visitor to this beach, so next time I go I'll be sure to bring my camera and try to get some good pics. Until then, you can look at the lovely pic that I found on the internet.

Ten Signs That I’m Back in the South

1. Even if there is a relatively strong breeze, the weather is so hot and humid that after two minutes outside my house I’m covered in a sheen of sweat.

2. After 5 minutes playing outside in the early afternoon, Koda comes inside, chugs half a bowl of water, flops on the kitchen floor, and refuses to move for at least half an hour.

3. At the grocery store, it is common to hear people employ the word “y’all” and speak with strong accents resembling those on the movie Sweet Home Alabama.

4. When I visit any of the local beaches, people are actually swimming or just lying in the water. It’s actually warm enough to do that here (since the water is more like bathwater than refreshing ocean water). Unlike in the North Atlantic or North Pacific, where I’m most used to “swimming”.

5. The weather reports include sections on surf conditions and hurricane warnings.

6. The food items left in our house from the previous tenants included instant stovetop cornbread and “fruit ice” (aka Popsicles).

7. There are rocking chairs on most of the front porches (although not ours… we have a couple plastic Muskoka chairs and my basket chair).

8. Walking Koda down my street, I both get catcalled by unruly (and somewhat rude) young men, and have true southern gentlemen wish me a good day and comment on what a pretty little dog I have.

9. My jean collection, which is usually my fashion staple, has been pushed to the back of my closet in favour of shorts, skirts and capris.

And Finally…

10. The three local grocery stores are the Harris Teeter, the Food Lion, and … no joke… the Piggly Wiggly.

Orientation and classes start on Monday, so I’ll update when I have more to tell! In the meantime I’ll be finishing setting up my house (I HAVE A HOUSE!) and getting Koda settled. Will post pics when things are prettier.

Better Late Than Never...

A post written August 10th, saved and forgotten on my computer...

En Route

It’s over.

My month on Canada’s west coast has officially come to an end, and I honestly have mixed feelings about it. I’m writing this from a small coffee shop in Port McNiell, BC, where I’m waiting for a Greyhound bus to take me to Comox where I’ll catch a flight home (via Calgary and Toronto). I finally have time to reflect on the last month of my life, and I thought that since I have a couple of hours with nothing to do, I’d share some of my ponderings. (Although with lack of free Internet access, this will actually be posted after I’m home.)

I went into this internship with admittedly negative feelings, after months of confusion and changing plans and fluid details. I know that’s not the best way to start a new adventure. The negative feelings at the beginning coloured the rest of the trip. But I won’t lie to you, dear readers, when the time came to actually leave for this trip, I didn’t even want to go anymore. (I think it had something to do with the whole “you’re hired!” “no wait, you’re un-hired…” “you’re re-hired!” “nope, changed our minds, you’re re-un-hired…” “well maybe we can work something out…” “nope, you can come if you pay us rent, and a $20 volunteer fee” “oh, by the way, you’re camping for a month” thing. But there’s really no telling for sure.) Because of this, my entire trip was one giant countdown to the time when I could go home again.

Don’t get me wrong, the trip had its good parts. In fact, it even had its brilliant and Downright Amazing parts. Yet another life-changing experience. This was the first time I’d ever really studied killer whales, having spent the majority of my Whale-Woman career focused on humpbacks and Right whales. (“Whale Woman” being the nickname I was given by one of my amazing volunteers. And no, he wasn’t calling me fat.) They truly are beautiful, fascinating creatures, with complex social systems rivaling our own. I’d love to come back to the west some day to study more about Orca behaviour, but who knows where life’s paths will lead me?

But, as is the point of this post, things out here weren’t all rainbows and sunshine (although we did have amazing weather when I was out here, which made camping a whole lot more enjoyable). I won’t get into things here because, although I’ll never lie to my readers, there are things that I just shouldn’t say online. Plus I’m not that petty. But those who have endured my rants over the last month know what I’m talking about. Lets just say that after one encounter, a very intuitive volunteer turned to me and noted “you must either be extremely laid-back, or just really, really flexible. They’re throwing a lot at you… it’s a good thing you can roll with the punches.”

But, as with all life-changing experiences, this trip taught me a lot about myself and what I can do. It pushed my limits in more ways than one, and for that I’m grateful. I learned that no matter how many times I declared over my lifetime that I would never pee in the woods, sometimes it’s necessary. I also learned that a little creativity and some conveniently-shaped driftwood can make a pit-toilet a whole lot more comfortable.

I learned that I can be patient, but there’s only so much “patience” one can employ before they just end up becoming somebody’s doormat. And after learning that, I learned to stand up for myself and express my point of view without it turning into a big thing, and I learned that sometimes compromise is necessary (even if the compromise really makes no sense in the long run… sometimes you just have to appease people).

I learned never to write convoluted blog entries that I think are funny and witty, but that may make others think that an acquaintance/friend/boyfriend passed away during my journey. (Don’t worry, everyone is alive and well! It was only my expensive sunglasses that made the fateful journey to their final resting place – a.k.a. the bottom of Johnstone Strait.)

I learned that I actually enjoy wilderness camping (as long as there’s access to a shower every few days), that I can “be in charge” of a group of adults and actually feel like they’re willing to listen to me rather than just humour me (since I look so young, sometimes it’s easy to believe that people twice my age are more likely to gaze at me and go “oh isn’t that sweet, she’s trying to teach us stuff!” rather than actually listen to my instructions). I learned to live with a boy (since, growing up with only sisters and female roommates, I’d never learned how previously), and how to curl up in exactly the right position to make sleeping on a couch for a month slightly comfortable. I learned that climbing a mountain daily is great exercise, but scaling rock faces is probably not something I’d do for fun. I re-learned that I bruise easily, and that black-and-blue legs are even less attractive than pasty legs. I learned plenty more too, but I should probably wind it up here.

Most importantly, I realized that no matter where in the world I may be, and no matter how long I’ve been away, there really is no place like home. And home is not necessarily a particular place or a particular house, it’s wherever you find those you love. And as of now, with 20-odd hours of traveling still left in front of me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

The countdown is on. Again.

Goodbye, Dear Friend

Today I bid a final farewell to my dear friend, Maui Jim.

MJ, I have to admit it wasn’t love at first sight. That early January day when we met at the Hut in the mall, your subtle grace and understated style did not immediately attract my attention. I was swayed by the overt beauty of Burberry and the solid construction and reliability of Oakley. But when I took the time to get to know you and give you a shot, your strong arms gently cradled my face in a way no others could; snug and stable, but not tight enough to pinch. Your beautiful amber colouring allowed me to see the world in a completely new light, everything in sharper contrast than before. I knew from that moment on that we were meant to be.

In the short time we knew each other, you protected me against the glare of snow on a frozen lake, the bright summer rays filtering through the windshield on long car trips, and the glinting, blinding light dancing off the waves as we dashed through the ocean in a small zodiac. On our final journey, we bobbed gently in the waves of Johnstone Strait in our bright yellow kayak, sharing views of spruce-covered mountains and kelp-lined shores. Just before parting, we witnessed a pod of porpoises flitting by, leaping happily through the waves without a care in the world.

Then, as if thinking you could never top this shared moment, you slipped gently from your preferred perch on my head and dove into the water below. My deafening wail of despair and my desperate reach toward you were of no avail, since you slipped gently through the fingers of my jacketed arm that was plunged elbow-deep in the frigid ocean. As I worked to keep the kayak upright while I reached for you, you winked a gentle goodbye and slipped farther into the darkness.

I’ll never let go, Jim. I’ll never let go.

For the rest of the day, my wet arm reminded me of the times we shared together, and the future that was now beyond our reach. While our friends toss out words of condolence and promises of newer, cheaper pairs at the local grocery store, my sadness still flows strongly. Yes, Maui Jim, you will be replaced. But you will never be forgotten.

So goodbye, dear sunglasses. You will be sorely missed.

A Desperate Plea to my B.C. Readers

Do you like whales...? And camping...? (*insert patented creepy smile*)

I'm looking for some volunteers to help me out gathering data for my masters project over the next month. So if you live anywhere near Vancouver Island (Alert Bay, to be exact) or can take a few days off and come up here to hang out with me and some killer whales, then I would be eternally grateful! Here's a copy of my desperate plea that I'm flinging out far and wide... (although it's not actually written by me. My copy was immediately discarded because it wasn't persuasive enough.)



VOLUNTEERS NEEDED FOR WHALE RESEARCH

I’m a Masters student and Straitwatch volunteer looking for help with land-based whale/boat traffic observations in the Johnstone Strait area. Tasks include helping to collect and record data on whale activities and vessel traffic from a cliff-top observation point. While out there we will be camping at Kaikash for 3 to 4 days at a time. I’m looking for someone who enjoys spending time outdoors, has camping experience and is interested in learning more about whales.

This is a great opportunity to gain field experience. This position is based out of Alert Bay so you will need to arrive the day prior to the volunteer dates listed below. From Alert Bay a small boat will take us to Kaikash where we will camp and the boat will pick us up on the last day. There is minimal cost involved with this opportunity as you only need to be a member of Cetus Research & Conservation Society ($20 membership fee) to participate. However, you will need to provide your own camping gear and food while we are out there.

Volunteers are needed for the following dates:
July 21-23
July 27-29
July 31- August 3
August 5-8

If interested in any or all of these dates, please contact Robyn Walker at robynpwalker@yahoo.ca, or Straitwatch at 250-974-7056


Help me out, if you can!!

A School-Blog Reject...

... or just something I've been trying to post for a few days, but for some reason the website doesn't want to load properly for me here. So enjoy!

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Where in the world is…?

This July, while my classmates are sweating it out in the rainforests of Costa Rica, Borneo and Madagascar, I’m sporting a winter hat and mittens. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

July 11th, I arrived on the northern tip of Vancouver Island in beautiful British Columbia to start my somewhat shortened summer internship. For exactly one month, I’m working for an organization called Straitwatch which studies boat activity near whales (specifically killer whales) in Johnstone Strait and the surrounding areas. For the last two days I’ve gone out on their zodiac, following a few humpback whales, a group of five incredibly acrobatic transient killer whales, a few dozen Dahl’s porpoises and a few hundred Pacific white-sided dolphins (which spent some of their time bow-riding just a short distance below my feet). Suddenly, the hat and mittens I threw in my luggage “just in case” have become daily accessories.

On land, the temperature is only slightly lower than what I’ve gotten used to for this time of the year, averaging about 20-30 degrees Celsius on a warm day. But on the water, it’s a whole other story. In the channels around the islands, the clouds and sometimes dense fog block out the sun and make the temperature drop a few degrees. The dampness on the water adds to the temperature drop, and the spray and wind from the zodiac makes it even colder. So by the end of the day, I’m thanking my lucky stars that I “over-packed” and brought my 2 sweaters, jacket and rain pants with me because I will have already put them all on less than an hour into the trip. But in the late afternoon when the fog lifts briefly to expose the vistas of rich green forests and the towering mountains lining the channels, it’s more than worth it.

Being a winter-child, I have absolutely nothing against the cold. I’d much rather be bundled up and shivering a bit than dressed down and melting. So the job conditions work just fine for me! I love being out on the water for the first time in a couple of years, and I’m remembering some things that have slipped my mind since my last boating gig. For one, it doesn’t take much time to get my sea-legs (even though anybody who knows me can attest that I’m less than graceful on land), but it takes at least three times as long to get my land-legs back. (As I’m writing this, the computer is swaying gently from side to side… as is the couch.) Also, no matter how many times I see the tell-tale arch of a humpback’s back that means it’s going to fluke, or the towering, graceful dorsal fin of a killer whale slicing through the water, or the flashing happy grin of a dolphin surfing the bow wave, it never fails to take my breath away.

Before I left home, one of my sisters gave me a hug and said “you better have fun out there, this is what you’ll be doing for the rest of your life.”

Have no fear, Kate. I could totally get used to this.

Say Goodnight, Not Goodbye

It’s nights like these that make me remember why I miss Ottawa.

It’s a place so full of life, so comforting in its familiarity, never dull with all its goings-on. This evening, I stood in the summer heat and watched the sun set over the skyline, punctuated by the winking windows of the parliament buildings, while the strong tempo and crooning lyrics of Metric lead the city from daytime to night. Sitting on a blanket of grass under a ceiling of stars, I let the rasping, soulful, heart-wrenching vocals of Ben Harper break me to pieces and reconfigure me in a million different ways. Breathing in the earthy smell of the damp grass, the sweet and heavy aroma of marijuana and the tangy smell of spilled beer, I felt completely at ease. Ottawa is a place that embraces but does not smother, that allows anonymity without invisibility, that accepts differences and encourages originality. It’s a place where you can be surrounded by hundreds of people, and still manage to find your childhood best friend, that guy your roommate had a crush on in first year, and your best friend’s sister’s ex-fiancé that you accidentally dated once.

Tomorrow I fly off again to the newest version of my own Far Far Away. And every time I leave, it feels like yet another terrible break-up. The bittersweet kind where you smile sadly and promise to stay friends, but you know deep down inside that it can never be the same again. Every plane takeoff, every border crossing brings that now familiar ache of loss and nostalgia, the memories of what was and the dreams of what could have been tugging strangely at my insides.

Sure, there have been other cities. And there will be many more. There will be new affairs, new flings with other city streets, and possibly one day even a new love. But Ottawa was my first. The place where I first made my mark, the place where I learned to spread my wings, the place where I got to know the girl I would become. And, because of that, it will always be the one that all others get measured against, for better or for worse.

So goodnight Ottawa, until we meet again.

Am I Simon or Garfunkel?

Ok, so the last few weeks have been ridiculously crazy, and really not that fun. Lots of stuff going on school-wise and work-wise, as well as all the ups and downs of trying to find a summer internship, thinking I had one in B.C., planning a roadtrip to get there, finding out the funding fell through, and scrambling to find another job only to realize my summer plans would inevitably include going back to Almonte. So probably no whales this summer, unless I manage to weasel my way into a tagging trip with one of my profs off the coast of Boston (with the people I worked with at the Whale Center, which could be fun!)

BUT, I have something far cuddlier than whales to look forward to....



Internet, meet Koda!



Her name is short for Kodachrome, which is the very first colour film put out by Kodak. Yes, I'm a huge photo-geek... but I wanted to pick a name that would reflect some of my interests, and "Humpback" just wasn't doing it for me. Get over it. Revel in her cuteness for a bit.



Now, some of you may be thinking that this was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and that I just decided to get a puppy to make myself feel better after everything else was falling through, but you would be wrong. (And if this is what you're thinking, no offense but I don't really want to hear about it... too many people have already told me it's a stupid idea. Don't believe them.) This decision has been 5 years in the making... 5 long years of longing for a pet of my own, and having to settle for goldfish because of various travel commitments and allergies that prevented me from getting anything that could exist outside of a bowl... and then 2 years of having to leave my beloved goldfish with my parents because they couldn't be safely transported across the border. Because my job in B.C. fell through for the summer, I now have the time and space back home to train and bond with a puppy, and if I don't jump at the chance now it will be at least another few years before it comes around again. So now I'm looking forward to heading back to to my Home in Native Land, chasing a few job leads there, and spending the summer playing with my new little ball of love.

Koda (formerly Tabby) is from a local dog rescue organization, and is being fostered in a house about 40 minutes away from where I live. I sign the adoption papers on Saturday, and I've arranged for her to stay on at the foster's house until the end of April (because I can't have a dog where I live now... it's against my lease, and I live with my landlord. Who is also highly allergic to puppies, even though she loves them.) So the plan is, I finish all my school stuff and exams, visit her whenever I want and kidnap her for the occasional daytrip, then pick her up for keeps the day I move out.

I can't wait!!!


But every time I say her name, I get a little tune by Simon and Garfunkel stuck in my head...



Ok, so it's apparently just Paul Simon.... but it's great anyways :)

New Photos

So it may seem as if I've been slacking off on the whole "photo-a-day" thing, however I've been hard at work going over my Costa Rica pictures, picking my favourites, and posting them to flickr. You can visit my site here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rpizzle/

The trip was amazing, and it was just an incredible experience. I saw so many different types of animals and plants that I never even knew existed, or had only seen pictures of. I got to see 3 different types of monkeys (capuchin, howler and spider monkeys), two different types of sloth, a bunch of different lizards and reptiles, and about a million different types of birds. (Alright, that may be an exaggeration, but we saw lots). Oh, and as well as showering with a tree frog, I showered with a gecko. So all in all a successful trip!

Enjoy the photos, and feel free to let me know what you think!

Ola from Costa Rica!

Hey folks! As the title may suggest, I am in fact in Costa Rica. At La Selva research station, to be exact. I was planning on posting a few pictures from the last few days, however I seem to have left the jump drive with the photos in my room, and seeing as it's about a 5 minute walk from the dorm to the computer room and it's currently pouring (they don't call it a rainforest for nothing!) I decided to wait and just post when I get back.

In the meantime, I'll just list a few of the crazy cool things I've seen and done:
1) Went to the beach and waded in the Pacific
2) Spent a few nights at Palo Verde research station in the dry forest
3) Showered with a tree frog
4) Watched the sun go down over the wetlands where a bunch of different bird species were hanging out, then went on a night hike through the dry forest
5) Saw howler monkeys, white-faced capuchin monkeys (both with babies!), a scarlet macaw, crocodiles galore, iguanas, coatis, agoutis, poisonous snakes, glowing scorpions, all sorts of birds (including white ibis, rosy spoonbill and a toucan, amongst MANY others), poison dart frogs, leaf-cutter ants, a peccary, and probably a million other animals that I'm forgetting
6) hiked at the base of an active volcano (although it was too foggy to actually see anything)
7) Rode a horse to the edge of the rainforest then went ziplining through the canopy a few hundred feet up, which was AMAZING (who knew I could do that with my fear of falling?? Be proud!), then afterwards spent a few hours at the hot springs
8) Hiked through the rainforest with a guide who could point out a bunch of the thousands of plant species here
9) Stood and watched a sloth hanging in a tree
10) Went to the pineapple plantation where they produce all the organic pineapples for Dole, Whole Foods and President's Choice

We've done a ton more amazingly cool stuff, but that's just a basic outline of my journey thus far. Tonight we're going out to catch bats and insects, tomorrow we're going to visit a banana plantation, and other than that I'm not entirely sure what's coming up. But it's bound to be great!

Check out our trip blog to see what we're doing: www.nicholas.duke.edu/costarica
I haven't posted yet, but I think a few of my photos are up and I'll hopefully be posting within the next couple of days. Stay tuned!

Long Day is Over...

...and still no photos. Sorry, again. Had class starting at 8:30 this morning, spent my lunch hour in front of a computer cramming, then wrote 2 back to back midterms tonight (pretty sure I blew them both, too). Finished at 8:30 p.m. A solid 12 hours. Recovered with a glass of wine and a mind-blowing episode of Lost, and now I'm ready for bed.

I'll try to post something tomorrow.... then a 10-day hiatus while I'm in Costa Rica!

Sorry Folks...

No photo for today. It's been kind of hectic, and I just didn't find time to bring my camera out. And now I'm just too wiped.

Tomorrow's looking pretty ridiculous as well... I'll do my best, but no promises!

Greatest Monday EVER

I woke up this morning the same way I always do: My alarm went off, and after some struggling to find my arms beneath the blankets I hit the snooze button and went back to sleep. Nine minutes later, my alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button and go back to sleep. Nine minutes later, my alarm goes off. I hit the snooze button and go back to sleep. Nine minutes later, my alarm goes off. I flick the button over to radio, but my clock is being testy again and doesn't pick up the station. So I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, slowly inching my feet out from beneath my cozy duvet so the cold floor won't seem like such a shock. Then, with the world's most heartfelt sigh, I ease my way out of bed and hit the showers (where I wash my hair AND my face twice, because I can't remember which cleansing rituals have already been completed).

Then, clean and dry and wrapped in a big fluffy towel, I turn on my computer to check my email. But this morning differed from others in one glorious way. Awaiting me in my inbox was a notification of the one thing every student (even us ancient grad students) wait the entire year to hear....

SNOW DAY.

Classes cancelled, assignments put off, SNOW DAY.

Of course the first thing I do is call my Mom to brag about my luck, and revel in the fact that I can go back to bed for awhile. And go back to bed I do... not sleeping, but watching a full 3 episodes of Gilmore Girls on DVD and letting my mind slowly wake up the proper way.

Then, after sufficient time had passed and I felt it was time to actually start my day, I hazarded a peek out the window, to see this incredible environmental saviour that caused classes to be cancelled.

And what, may you ask, did I see?



An inch of snow. ONE. FULL. INCH.

As one friend put it, "An inch of snow and the entire city shuts down? What a Toronto thing to do..."

Poor Chazz, he probably thought coming south meant never having to say "I'm freezing". Too bad I left my snow brush in Ottawa...



I don't think the holly-like bush outside my front door liked it too much either. But it sure does look purdy!



And now, my friends, I am off to spend the remainder of my snow day trying to catch up on homework assignments and study for the two midterms I write this week.

Oh, and to practice my "interpretive talk" for my job interview tonight... wish me luck!

Child-Robyn's Dream Come True

So I was sent to cover an event today for the communications department, and when I walked into the room I nearly fainted with delight. The room was full of 1500 brand-spanking-new books. Shiny, colourful, wonderfully-gloriously-new-smelling children's books.

Child-Robyn would have died on the spot out of sheer joy.

(You can find more info about the event on my school blog... it'll be up within a few days)

Down for the count

I've been out with a major headache all day, either due to the weather or the chloroquine (apparently nausea and headaches are the main side effects).

Makes paper-writing really fun.

A Day of Health

So today I went and got all my travel shots and meds that I need for Costa Rica, and have officially started taking my chloroquine (anti-malarial drug). Now all I have to do is finish up all the crap I have to do school-wise in the next few days (which, trust me, is A LOT), pick up my Costa Rican colons (the currency there) on Tuesday, and I'm almost set to go....

Gawd I need a break.

"Chloroquine Spill"

A Photo a Day Keeps the Crazy Away....

I've never been the kind of girl who made or kept New Years resolutions.... but I have always observed Lent. When I was little, I consistently gave up chocolate, chips, pop, gum... whatever my vice happened to be that year. But as the years progressed, there seemed to be less and less to give up. I don't really eat candy, I rarely eat chips, I don't drink pop at all, I've stopped chewing gum for the most part (unless it's to keep me awake during especially boring classes... then I'll pop a piece). Really, my only vices right now are lattes and peanut butter (not together. Ew.), and I can't really give up either one of those, since lattes are my back-up source of calcium and peanut butter is my back-up source of protein. (Yes, I need to grocery shop more often.) So, this year instead of giving things up for Lent, I've decided to make goals instead.

Which brings me to the point of this posting. My goal for Lent is to spend a little time each day with my camera. Each day, I will produce a photo/photo series/photoshop disasterpiece for your general enjoyment, and my overall sanity. This is me forcing myself to take time away from the stress of school, and do something that I actually enjoy and makes me feel saner. I'm convinced school is killing my creativity, so this is me rebelling.

I will not go gentle into that good night. Rage, Rage against the dying of the light! (Thank you, Dylan Thomas)

So, with no further ado, here is my first photo series:

"A Study in Sweet Hearts"







Keep checking back, I'm going to try and keep up with this photo-a-day thing... there will be a brief hiatus from March 6-15th while I head to Costa Rica, but expect more photos after that!

Oh, and I'll be cross-posting to Facebook if you want to keep an eye on my images there.

$10.50's Worth 1000 words?

I have a problem.

Well, I don't really see it as a problem... but my bank account/time management troll (the little guy I keep employed in my daily planner) may disagree.

My problem? My hobby is becoming a bit of an obsession.

I've realized that when I travel anywhere, I carry at least three cameras with me. Four, if you count the fact that my cell phone also takes pictures. Basically, I have my big fancy DSLR, which I love to death, plus the lenses and hot-shoe flash. I also carry a digital point-and-shoot, for those times when I want a fast photo instead of playing with lighting and all the fun dials on my big camera. And, just in case I feel a picture just isn't quite enough, I have my Flip-cam for taking videos. To go along with these, I have a full-sized tripod and a mini gorilla-pod, plus a few other miscellaneous accessories.

But the real problem? I WANT MORE.

Tonight I was a few minutes away from winning a vintage Praktica Super TL3 camera with accessories on ebay, with a bid of $10.50.
It was something I bid on purely on a whim, and mostly because it was such a great deal... I mean, a vintage 35mm SLR, in working condition, that comes with 2 lenses, a flash, and other miscellaneous attachments?? That's what we call a STEAL. I even went so far as to check out what batteries it needed, where I could get them, and how much they would cost ($5.95/battery... not too bad). It came down to the last 10 minutes of the sale, and it totally looked like nobody else was going to bid... there were only 3 of us involved in the original bidding, and they both stopped at $10. So there I was, picturing opening the box, pulling out my new toy, loading some film, and having the time of my life. Maybe I'd try to sign up for evening photography classes on campus so I could develop my own film... and then I'd hone my darkroom skills and learn how to create different photo effects while developing the shots... and then my photos would be so good that somebody who turned out to be the owner of a small independent gallery would randomly see them, beg me to show at their gallery, and my photography career would be well on its way to getting started....

But while I was busy planning out the rest of my creative life, I stopped paying attention to the auction... and in the last 5 minutes missed 12 bids, and lost the camera to somebody who paid $22.50. Damn.

I don't know what exactly it is about the old vintage cameras, but there's something about them that I love. I think part of it is just that they look so effing cool! Yes, I know, that's totally a shallow comment... but it's true. I mean, even drawings of them are cool looking. In fact, I've recently fallen in love with these amazing dishes from Etsy that I would get, if I had a house of my own to use them in:



Even more than looks, however, is just the feel of the older cameras. They have heavier bodies and more angular shapes, which makes them different to hold. They have the fun little film-advance lever that makes the "cachink!" sound when you flick it. And the shutter click is just so much more satisfying on the old cameras! My fingers twitch just thinking about it...

I think part of my love for the old cameras comes from the fact that I learned the basics of SLR photography using my Dad's old Ricoh. Taking pictures with that camera just felt more pure than with digital, and I can remember the thrill of using it for the first time. Plus there was the excitement of never actually knowing what would come out with each shot, and the exhileration of developing the film in the darkroom and watching what would suddenly appear in the frames... man, I miss those days (however brief my stint in the darkroom was).

Now, don't get me wrong, I DO already have a 35mm SLR. But the thing is, it's a relatively new one and reminds me a lot of my DSLR. I love them both, but they just don't feel the same as the older ones. (Oh, and it's currently back home in Canada...) Hence my recent obsession with tracking down the perfect vintage SLR (preferably for less than $30... but that may be asking a lot). Yes, 3 SLRs is excessive. No, I don't need another camera. But this little voice in my head just keeps whispering "but it's a good deal! It's an investment! It's only $30-ish dollars! You've been thinking of getting a vintage camera for a few years now, and if you're still thinking about it then it's ok to get one... you've held out long enough!"

Could somebody please tell the little voice to shut up? Either that, or help me justify getting another camera... and then help me scour ebay for a nice one in good working order.



Oh, and ps: school's ok, life's ok, and only 11 more weeks in Durham... I'll update when I have something more interesting to add.

Last Night in the First Quarter....

Hello again, world! I've taken what has turned out to be a rather long hiatus from blogging... and for the most part, real life in general. After my last post I basically spent my remaining time in Durham either holed up in the computer lab or sprawled out in my room studying, then I flew home for a month of blissful, school-free vacation. I spent most of my time hanging out with family, meeting up with old friends, sleeping, playing, and generally just pretending the days weren't ticking by. But alas, they were... and so I'm back in Durham and right back into the thick of things. Even though this is only the first full week of classes, I've been swamped since I got back with all the magazine stuff that I couldn't finish off before I left, and chose to ignore when I was home (because really, I can't write a locally-based story when I'm out of the country...). I could whine and pout about the unfairness of being assigned stories last minute, and how maybe they should have *remembered* to assign me the stories originally instead of sending me home in prior weeks because they had nothing for me to do.... but that's not what this post is about.

No, dear friends, this post is about the somewhat scary fact that tomorrow (or more specifically, in about 2 hours) I turn the dreaded 2-5.

(Dunn Dunn DUUUUUUNNNNNNNN)

Now I myself am not exceptionally bothered by this fact. Sure, I'm turning a quarter of a century. Yes, when I say it that way it sounds old. And numerous (usually younger) friends seem to get a great deal of pleasure out of pointing my ancient-ness out to me. And telling me that all their friends who are that age are married and have popped out a couple of kids. And how that's ok, I'm just not "at that stage" yet... whatever that may mean.

The thing is, people aren't maturing at the rate they used to. Women don't get married at the age of 17 and have 3 kids by the time they're 21 anymore. Instead, we go to school. We get a degree. Sometimes we get two degrees. Or three. We're capable, and it's recognized... so why is my "stage" in life dependent on whether there's a ring on the finger and a bun in the oven? I'm not measuring my life by whether or not I'm in a serious relationship... so why should other people?

Peoples' "innocent" comments and teasing jabs occasionally will get to me, and I'll let myself be overcome by all the things I haven't done in my 24 years on Earth. I haven't finished school, I haven't had a "real" job (or so I've been told), I haven't found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, I haven't figured out where I'm going to settle down or what exactly I'll be doing, I haven't decided where I'll be 10 years from now... hell, I don't even know where I'll be 4 months from now!

But you know what? I'm only 24. And in 1.5 hours, I will only be 25. That's not as young as I used to be, but it's sure as hell not old. I have the rest of my life ahead of me to figure out where to go, and what to do, and who to spend time with. I'll be a year older tomorrow than I am today, and that's ok! Age is just a number, and I'd rather be older and have done the things that I wanted to before "settling down", than be young, married and bitter.

I'm young. I'm happy. And it's THAT, not whether or not I have a ring, that makes ME successful.