no, not now

I had thought that Tuesday would be a perfect day for my Memorial Day weekend recap but it's not. First of all, I don't have the pictures from Kristina's camera. They are needed to really showcase the events. Secondly, I had a day from hell at work so I don't have the mental energy to be my witty self (ha ha).

All I can say is that it was by far one of the best weekends I've had in quite some time (excluding mine and Lisa's camping trip in March). This city slicker realized how fun it can be to try on the country bumpkin routine. I will leave this post with some pictures from my Zion's trip with Lisa in March. It's only a couple months behind. Perhaps my memorial recap won't take near as long!


do you realize...

...that music is a lot like clothes? Well, at least that's the epiphany I had this morning. I heard that you should purge the clothes you haven't worn in over a year. Organizational "experts" say the likelihood of wearing that garment again is slim to none. It may be resurrected by someone that picked it up at the local thrift shop but it will likely never see daylight on your body again. And therein lies the catch... it's not "you will never wear it again, it's only "likely" that you won't. So you hold on to that top from the late 90s because maybe, just maybe it will be fashionable once more or you may fit in to that pair of jeans again. Let's face it, even though the 80s is making a shameful comeback those vintage heels and polkadot dress aren't quite the same as the reincarnations. You end up looking like a fashion victim rather than a fashionista. Several moves has helped me to become quite good at the closet purging. I wish the same could be said for the music vomiting.

I keep my old cd's, I burn them on to iTunes and sometimes I even sneak them on to Vinny. I tell myself that even though a song has not reached my ears in several years, I will listen to it again and like it. Yet, when those songs play on my computer I quickly change it. I just don't dig them anymore. I justify keeping them for nostalgia reasons because sometimes when "I Saw the Sign" or "Red, Red Wine" comes on to the radio, I listen and think fondly of church dances (ironic that the Ub40 song was played at a youth church dance where strong beliefs against alcohol abound). The nostalgia is practically non-existent for my early twenties music. Yet, I just can't delete the songs. The music doesn't require a lot of disc space and you never know when you might need to get your groove on to Nick, Brian, AJ, Howie and Kevin (it was a gift that I thoroughly enjoyed at 21, so sue me). The reality is that it is like nails on a chalkboard now. Likely the music purge will have little long term effects on me. The songs will be dismissed as easily as my awful overalls that met their fate in 2001. And still my hand shakes and I falter as I attempt to hit "clear forever." I-just-can't-do-it.


bird's eye view

I remember a little poem my father taught me as a child

Little birdie in the sky, dropped a doo-doo in my eye. Me big girl, me don't cry, me just glad that cows don't fly.

Exiting the gym after my early morning workout last week, I saw not one, not two, not even three bird shats on my car. It was a machine gun hit from the front all the way to the rear of my car. My friends had parked on either side of me and their cars were sparkling clean. Grumbling and sweaty, I attempted to get the white turds off my windshield using my wiper blades only to discover I was out of washer fluid. Smeared crap blurred my view until I could successfully clean it off. I swear I get hit more because my car is silver. I have been unsuccessful finding proof but it never fails that it is my car. Stupid birds.

I'm a forgiving lass though. Yesterday I came to the rescue of a hummingbird stuck in my friend's window. We managed to get the little thing back in to the open air, free as only a bird can be.


touching you, touching me

Huggers and touchers and sweeties, oh my! I really, really like hugs but I really, really dislike hugging people I'm not close to. Take for instance the person you barely met that gives you a hug and then embraces you again when you leave. This person can be the same sex or the opposite sex. It doesn't matter, they hug without discretion. I currently have one of those in my life. She is really kind and she's Canadian, so I don't quite have the heart to tell her to back off the hugging.

Then there was a luncheon last week with a constant toucher. The chap may have been trying to get some of his physical needs met by constantly touching me but I didn't think it was near as entertaining as he. There are also those folks that find pushing you over or slamming in to your back amusing. Guess my co-worker missed the memo. Note to all employees: Non-reciprocal pushing and shoving is not appropriate in the workforce (nor outside of it). It is not entertaining and Aisy wants it to stop.

Tonight while shopping a nice clerk boosted my self-esteem by letting me know I was a sweetie. Although I don't think I've seen her before, we must be close because she called me hon several times. Well, sweeties, I'm off camping for a night for work, so hons, I'll check back later. Have a good night sweeties.



Today I made a cool five cents with minimal effort. All I had to do was drive back to the Mac store and return earbuds that were purchased 30 days earlier. I'm sure it didn't cover the gas but I'll take it. Apparently the sales tax on April 12 was five cents less than it was today. Go figure!

It's rather pathetic how much this made me smile but I am rarely graced with fortuitous events. My father has won a television and a stereo, yet the Calgary Stampede dream home still eludes him. The last time I can remember winning anything was a cake during the cake walk at my elementary school fair (along with half the school). I'm not quite sure why I still get that flutter of anticipation when tickets are being drawn. It's never my ticket, it's never my name and yet, I have that faint hope... only to feel the excitement drain out of my body. The winner smiles and his/her friend says "Man, you always win something." It seems to me that there are two kinds of people: prize winners and non-prize winners. There has to be a lucky gene just waiting to be coded by scientists.

The question is... are you feeling lucky?


the sounds of science

Ms. Kaz sent a link today about a truly unorthodox way to cure asthma and allergies. I had seen a show several years back using a similar technique (sans the feces) to help with several autoimmune disorders but hadn't heard much since. I'm still not sure how keen I would be to walk in human dung to rid myself of the lifelong pain I've experienced having asthma but I'm one of the lucky ones. I only had several bad bouts as a teenager that required two to three hours in the emergency room. My mother patiently waited, read, and snoozed through my treatments. Even then my asthma seemed mild to some of the young kids I would see getting treatments. Nothing was more tragic than seeing a young infant in an incubator with oxygen and ventolin flowing through it. As I got older, my asthma became more manageable and now I rarely require my ventolin. Sure there are those amusing moments when my wheezing is mistaken for a hissing cat but that is easily remedied with a few puffs of medicine. An asthmatic just learns to carry their ventolin at all times... just like keys.

This story touched a nerve for several reasons. My first job out of university was working with children diagnosed with autism. I saw numerous parents searching in vain for something, anything, that might help their child become "less autistic." You could see the hope with a new idea and the devastation when it didn't work. More recently I've been supporting my close friends as they've struggled to even figure out what the medical issue is so that they can find appropriate treatment. But the situation that hits straight to home is a health issue my family has struggled with for many years. It's not a life threatening disease but it has still been a long and painful journey, one that modern medicine has yet to be able to reverse. There has been a lot of traditional and non-traditional interventions and some tremendous sacrifices made to help the situation.

When I think of all these people, the common thread is that there is very little that they wouldn't try in hopes that it would help. As a society we've come such a long way as far as treating medical problems and yet, we still seem so far away. At what point do we give up and say we've done all that we can do? How far do we go to find that one cure? It's the realization that medicine will only get us so far, as we simply cannot control or fix everything. There will always be situations that seem unfair or senseless. Yet, life has an amazing ability to find balance. Just as there will be misery, there to will be joy. In the midst of the frustration and tears our family has felt over the illness, there is still laughter. I strongly believe it has created a deeper unity in our family and made us more appreciative of what we do have. Maybe we all need to have our own Cameroon experience... revel those moments when you walk in crap, as you might just find what you need.


this place is a prison

As I pulled in to my garage yesterday, a woman quickly jumped out of a van and asked to talk to me. She identified herself as a bounty hunter, showed me a wanted sign, and asked if I had seen the man in the picture. My response was "no", my thought was "why does she think I know him?" She asked me how well I knew the people living beside me or the cars they drove. I, of course, knew nothing about them. I just haven't gotten around to throwing that block party, let alone waving at neighbours. Ms. Bounty Hunter told me that my next-door neighbour is dating the man in question. Apparently I can receive a reward if I call in with any information. Maybe it's time for me to throw a party.

Guess this town isn't so sleepy after all!


drink to me, babe, then

If you don't want to drink to me, then drink to avocados. I've never been a fan of that greenish goo until recently. I still can't eat them plain but I've discovered the best way to eat a wrap that absolutely must have an avocado. This new fetish started out so innocently when I was in Moab. I ordered a vegetarian wrap and the woman forgot the avocado. It just didn't taste right and I was fixated on it all day. When Kris and I got home we promptly made our own. It was a wheat wrap with hummus (I recommend the red pepper hummus), bell peppers, mushrooms, spinach, tomatoes and the tour de force... avocados. I have made several since then and it never fails to please. The most recent edition featured havarti cheese. My mind is constantly drifting to different foods I can add avocados to. What I can't figure out is why I suddenly like them. They've always been high on my "do not eat" list, almost tied with olives. All I know is that I think about them A LOT. I also know I still HATE olives.

Someone said recently that our taste buds change every eight years. I think it's crap but I am curious to see if eight years down the road I'll start obsessing over olives. I'd just like an answer as to why our tastes change. However, I'm too focused on making another wrap to go research it.