Jitters

I'm a bundle of nervous energy. It may or may not be the full contents of the French press inside my stomach. It may or may not be the very exciting Skype conversation I had this morning, about a web project that rocks my political nerd world. It may or may not be the fact that my Masters program went live yesterday, and begins officially tomorrow. It may or may not be the fact that I've been so totally overwhelmed at work, both in a good way and in a not so good way, over the past week. It probably has something to do with the fact that one of my most favourite people in the world is finally following me across the country -- even if it is to Calgary. A three-hour drive is way cooler than a five-hour plane trip.

On another note: the Boy and I have been very popular lately, which is exciting after becoming hermits in September. It was necessary to have some kind of post-summer break, but now we're back out in the world... and finding out that bowling too much may make your butt hurt.

Note to self: don't consume copious amounts of Bubbles before going to Beerfest. Drunk face.

fall(ing)

[via postsecret]

Finally, the summer is over. Fall, with cool mornings, clothing in layers, smells and colour-changing leaves, is upon us. It's sneaking up and bringing with it pumpkin lattes and a desire to make slow-cooker soups and stews. No more jetting off to Saskatchewan, or rushing around worrying about weddings and birthdays and fitting it all in. We're back to a slower pace. Relaxed. Sweaters worn to football matches. Scarves in the morning. Seeing your breath. I love this time of year so much.

The weekend in the Okanagan brought two rounds of golf, ten visits to wineries, fifteen bottles to bring back with us, and many, many hours spent together in a car. It was camping in the rain (B spilling his beer in the tent) and our first bed and breakfast. It was fresh fruit and coffee which ranged from very, very bad (McDonalds in Revelstoke, I'm thinking of you) and very, very good (oh B&B with your locally-roasted, grinded in house deliciousness). It was my first darts victory. Poker and beer. B being forced to put up with my dance party tunes while the radio was out of commission in the mountains. It was fall romance, despite the rain.

B likes my blog because so often I'm probably annoying people by talking about him. Ego stroking at its finest.

I've had some rough times lately. Summer drama. The things one goes through when one decided that maybe a friend is no longer a friend. Wanting to keep that person around for the good times, but realizing that you have to take the bad with the good. When she started telling people I love (and who I can only assume love me) that she thinks I'm depressed and that the Boy and I are not good for one another -- he's changed me -- I started questioning what she's telling those who don't have such close ties to me. To us.

"I don't think you've changed, and I've known you my whole life," says the Little.

I joke about it with B. I've ended more than a few sentences with, "Oh, it's just because I'm depressed." And we giggle.

"She doesn't read your blog, does she?"

If she did, there'd be no question.

Ode to Kitty

It's been a busy summer, this summer of Kitty and Elle. It's been full of ups and downs. Tears and squabbles, but in the end, we try to forget about those. We remember good times at the City Centre Farmer's Market, the West Edmonton Mall, girly dates, margaritas, crochet. We remember soccer games and meeting up for "screamers" (ice cream and slushies... mixed together). Sleepovers in the old house. Moving. Bubble tea.

The first time we've lived together in 7 years, and the four months just flew by. Part of me wishes it wasn't over, and the other part is just so happy for her to go back for her final year of university with her fabulous roomate and other Ontario friends. Plus, it will be nice to see the floor again in the spare room.

She flies out on Saturday morning, when the Boy and I are on our miniature vacay in the Okanagan. Tonight is our last soccer game together, our last post-soccer round of drinks (Boston Pizza Kitty, you can get your soup!). It's the last night we'll spend together before she's gone.

It's been pretty amazing to have the baby sister around. To truly learn more about this person she's become over the past several years, and see her perspective on things that have happened in the past. To see just how perfectly her future career suits her, and hear about all the great stories she has of patients who love her and co-workers who never want her to leave. To have her be a part of my life-changing summer of happiness, and have her support for my "only if it makes me happy" attitude. Hopefully she still likes me, because I think she's pretty incredible.

Dear Kitty: When you leave on Saturday, make sure you leave my clothes at my place. xo

If you're looking for me, I'll be at the track

[via flickr]

It was a great way to celebrate my birthday, and her birthday. A lot of sunshine, a splash of Bud Light Lime, small bets that were enough to make us hold on to our hats. Multiple sunscreen applications. Superman ice cream cake, and more than a handful of good people to eat it with. Freezies and branded fans in the condo to keep cool. In the end, I think I made a couple bucks, but generously donated it (and more) back to Northlands for beer. Because I'm sweet like that.

It's good to have weekends like this to realize just how wonderful your friends are. And to help lovely people fill Alberta must-dos before they leave us (me) for the east coast.

On my Albertaversary

[flickr]

Approximately two and a half years ago, I told my "from there to here" story. I read it again on Sunday, my three year Albertaversary.

As I'm packing up all the things I've accumulated over the past three years, it's strange to be transported back to the days where my sole piece of furniture was my bed. As I look forward to my "Kentucky Derby"-style birthday extravaganza (hats and horses! gambling!), it's hard to remember the tears on my twenty-second birthday when I had no one. Moving out here was a big shock to almost everyone who knew me -- except maybe my Daddy, who had been telling everyone for months that I was going to take the plunge. I had never been a risk taker, so it was a big deal for me to move across the country on a whim, with the promise of a writing test for a job... not even an interview. I had a feeling.

With my university and high school friends spread across Ontario, and North America, it wasn't too hard for me to pack up and head somewhere by myself. It made sense to go where the jobs were. And the jobs weren't in Ontario, not for public relations anyway. It was empowering to come out here and be handed jobs, my experience lauded rather than being dismissed by the Toronto PR crew.

It was exciting to have the roomie join me a month later, even though I had only known her for a couple months. It was fun to have someone to explore with, to get lost with, to find new hot spots and have new adventures. Though we've had our ups and downs, it was necessary that I had her to get me through the homesick days and help me celebrate small victories.

I've made a life out here. Originally the plan was to come for a couple years, lap up all the experience I could, and return to Ontario. Last weekend my parents said, not even really a question, You're not moving back, are you? And I don't think I am. There's too much for me here. I've made a good group of friends, I've found the Boy, I'm starting my Masters. I've got an incredible boss, the best mentor I could ask for, and fabulous co-workers. I'm involved in things I'm passionate about, even though they stress me out sometimes. I managed to get together a motley crew of friends and acquaintances to raise over $5,000 for cancer research this year alone. If the right opportunity came along, who knows? But I'm happy here.

This weekend, as I move away from the downtown core (sob!), I'll begin a new adventure. It will be me and the Boy (and for a couple months, Kitty), 24-7. It will be less walks across the river to Whyte Avenue and a new section of the river valley to explore. It will be deliberate girl-dates with the roomie, rather than merely running into each other at the apartment. It will be a twice-daily trip on the LRT, instead of a six-block walk to work. It will be study time and essays instead of nightly walks to Starbucks. It's wondering how I'm ever going to get my Christmas shopping done when I'll be with the Boy all the time, and when I'll only be in this city for two weeks between mid-November and Christmas. It's erasing all traces of my old address and home phone. It's separating three years of accumulated furniture, dishes, and decorations. It's removing the skeleton from our front door who's changed to suit the seasons since the Halloween party we had where I first made out with the Boy nearly two years ago. It's moving out, without moving on.

And I couldn't be more excited.

Escape

The entire city has been battered and bathed. It's okay because we need it. The forecast is anything but sunny, which makes me crave my heavy bedding and a book. Or melancholy tunes. Or tea and granny squares with A. Instead, I slave through the day knowing how it will end... with the unpacking of boxes, like nearly every other day for the last, and next, couple of weeks.

So, amidst the moving madness, it was nice to escape this weekend with the Boy to the mountains. My (other) greatest love. Head over to Flickr to see my other shots from our travels this weekend.

So here I am with open arms

It feels strange that after three years of accumulating, of adding to the two suitcases I dragged off the airplane, I'm decluttering.

I'm going through old pieces from my portfolio, deeming them expired. I'm throwing out old goodbye, thank you, and happy birthday messages. I tossed a stack of pictures feeling confident that if I ever care to replace them, printing is only a click away. It's easy to get lost while sitting on the floor with my legs crossed, falling deep into old memories, old decisions, the old me. I got rid of a couple of uninspired knitting projects, but the bin of yarn I keep under my bed is still overflowing. My "to read" stack of books gets unstacked and shoved into boxes, no doubt pushed aside for the next couple of years. I spend time on the phone with anyone who sends me mail, informing them of the change. I take my time walking to work, inhaling the feeling of downtown.

"Maybe it's good you're moving in over time," said Kitty. "That way, maybe he won't realize how much stuff you have."

Best friends 4 evah

Courtesy of CMT

I spent the weekend drinking too much champagne in the afternoon, eating appetizers for supper, imbibing in barley and hops, frolicking in the sunshine, and hanging out with two of my favourite people in the universe. The Boy sent me an email this morning that said, "It's good to remember why your best friends are your best friends." This weekend definitely served as a fabulous reminder.

They are two of the only people I can find to listen to country music with me. The only two people would would squeal and jump around with glee to find out that the Road Hammers were opening for Montgomery Gentry after a lot of detective work to find out who the opening act was. Dancing around the house. Watching bad teen movies. Being happy, and positive, and free of eye-rolling. Remembering good times and creating new memories. Meeting each other for the first time and becoming fast friends themselves.

Even though I have no voice, and have spent the weekend trying to push away the plague that has been wracking my body, this was the best weekend that I have had in a very long time. It was exactly what I needed.

I mentioned to the Boy a little while ago that I feel like I'm falling into too much negativity. I'm finding myself becoming an eye-roller. A cynic. A bit of cynicism is good, but it's gotten to a bad place. I made a vow to surround myself with positive forces to balance out my proclivity to the negative, and this weekend was the best thing that ever could have happened. I feel refreshed.

It's good to remember why your best friends are your best friends.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

I'm no fashionista. Big name designers don't design for me. I do more classic styles, with some trends that I can pull off, mainly trendy colours. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate the beauty of well-made clothes, I just can't pull a lot of it off. For this reason, I was a bit nervous when the lovely Andrea invited me to be her right-hand girl at Edmonton's Fashion Week last night.

I shouldn't have worried. For starters, a glass of red while making fun of the "model" talking herself up to a group of young 4H girls does a lot to ease the mind. Secondly, Andrea is fabulous. Finally, it wasn't really all that impressive (though I had been warned).

Some of the stuff that went down the runway was just sad. The music was strange, the girls looked uncomfortable and awkward, the clothes didn't fit, the seams buckled even though the garment wasn't too small and there were loose strings everywhere. Heidi Klum would not have approved. Since I don't subscribe to the same journalistic principles as A., I can let you tell you the good, the bad and the ugly. And oh, was it ugly.

And then there was Tressa Heckbert.

Her show was cohesive, a dash of futuristic, the clothes were well-tailored, the girls looked cool and we couldn't help but comment on the shininess of their hair. Little details made us squeal in delight. The show had been thoroughly thought through and it showed. Not a rogue thread in sight. No "dog fur" poufs chasing the girls down the runway. Everything about Tressa's show was fabulous. It was enough to make us actually want to go to St. Albert.

For more, check out Andrea's take on the show here.

Freedom to Create? Spirit to Achieve?

The Government of Alberta launched their new branding strategy this week. The days of the "Alberta Advantage" are gone, and we're left with a vocabulary of "dream, create, inspire, achieve, freedom, courage, determination" et cetera. All of those words which are supposed to tug on the heartstrings and make people feel good about this province.

Don't get me wrong, I love Alberta. After nearly three years, I consider myself to be an Albertan. But it's not all those motivational buzzwords that inspire me, or keep me here.

I love Alberta's dedication to large roadside attractions, like the pierogi in Glendon, the Starship Enterprise in Vulcan, or the Ukrainian sausage in Mundare.

I love that back in the summer of 2006, when Ontario was all bitchy with the "who you know" to get a job, Alberta ooohed and aaahed over the experience I had. I had a job in my chosen field before I had an apartment. I had an even better job a month later.

I love how the mountains make me beam and bounce and proclaim, "oooh mountains!" whenever we're headed to Golden, or Jasper, or Banff. I like that merely seeing the foothills in the distance fills me with happiness. I love the variety of landscapes, from those mountains to the badlands in Drumheller, to my friend H's cabin on Mann Lake, to Sylvan Lake's beach.

I love that everyone here is in the same boat. Coming across a "true" Albertan is rare. There are only two born and raised Edmontonians in my group of friends. People are open to newcomers. You're able to meet real friends by going to the bar, going to work, or by joining a co-ed soccer team where you may only know one other person. You may even find friends from poaching players from other teams in your league over beer. You're able to steal friends from a boy that you dated for a month. You're able to fill your apartment with old friends, new friends, and friends-of-friends, which become your new friends by default. And when you do fill your apartment with 30 random people, everyone gets along and may end up singing Bohemian Rhapsody in three-part harmony on your balcony.

I think it's hard to move someone with words about how wonderful a place can be. You can use words like inspire, dream, create but in the end, they are just words. You have to show people. You have to get them to feel it. Not like I have any suggestions...

Good idea in a bad economy?

I've been paying a lot more attention to home furnishing lately. With the thought of moving out of the downtown apartment I've been in for the past three years, and moving into the Boy's northeast digs, it's fun to imagine what I can do to make "our" place prettier. He's well aware that I'm not a fan of some elements of his place, and now that it's no longer all peach, we can start to think about getting rid of the awesome university-style futon or the kitchen set that was last reupholstered before he was born.

Combined with the fact that we now have digital cable and an onslaught of American networks, it becomes very disheartening to see commercials from American companies with low-low-low prices. If only we were in the US, look at the bargains we could be getting! More and more often, these commercials are for DirectBuy, a company which apparently skips the retailer so you work directly with the manufacturers.

While daydreaming of new home furnishings lately, it has come to my attention that DirectBuy is not solely an American company afterall. You can Direct Buy Ontario and Alberta. My question is this: has anyone ever used this company before? Have you had a good, bad, or lukewarm experience? There's a free visitor's pass available on the website, but does anyone know how much it costs to actually be a member?

I'm daydreaming of pretty kitchens and cabinets and living rooms and wondering if this company is worth it. I do love a bargain.

No Cheese with my Wine

The next interVivos event No Cheese with my Wine! Is taking place on April 2, 2009. Due to the limited number of attendees, space is bound to fill up fast so RSVP soon at: http://www.simplersvp.ca/intervivos/.

Getting things done

I'm completely wiped from work this week so, unfortunately, it means my blog suffers today.

One good thing about today is that I signed up for a photography class so I will have some slotted time to play with my fancy-schmancy camera. Even better thing, I was eligible to claim it under my "learning account" at work. Hurray!

Just wondering, since I'm here, if you had your chance to attend an event on community, political, or business issues, what's an example of an event topic you'd be interested in? I'm just doing a little informal research for www.intervivos.ca. And by that, I mean my brain is fried, so I'm looking for suggestions for our event luncheons and mixers. All calls for event topics and/or speakers are welcome!

Why I Relay

I must admit, before I interned at the Canadian Cancer Society cancer wasn't a bit concern of mine. I had very few people around me touched by this disease. I had never held the hand of someone I loved as they underwent chemotherapy or radiation. I had never had to see the health of anyone close to me deteriorate before my eyes. I had never seen the fight that survivors go through, or experience the victory when all signs of cancer have left the body.

The only real experience I had with cancer was when a girl in my elementary school died of the disease. And we weren't close. I chose the internship at the Canadian Cancer Society because it was good experience. Because the women who worked there were friendly. And because the City of London had decided not to take an intern, afterall. I knew I'd not only be a part of the public relations team at the office, but I would be the entire public relations team. You'd better believe that looks awesome on a resume.

I loved working at the Society. I got so involved in the cause that I started working extra hours, I started volunteering for events like Daffodil Days. I started hosting volunteer training sessions in the evenings. The women who worked there became my family. We didn't just share a job, we shared our lives, our stories, and in some cases, experiences with cancer itself. I met so many people who were in various stages of cancer treatment, so many survivors, and so many families and friends of both those who beat the disease and those who lost. These people changed my life.

I volunteered for the Canadian Cancer Society's Relay for Life that year, and seriously guys, I never expected one event to touch me so deeply. When the cancer survivors started off Relay with the Survivors' Victory Lap, we cheered and applauded with tears in our eyes. Their victories were the victories of the thousands of people who showed up that night. Their victories were proof that cancer could, and will, be beaten. Their victories held hope for those who were recently diagnosed and their friends and families who put together teams to support them. It was an amazing high.

Later, at dusk, when the luminaries were lit around the track, casting a glow over the field as Amazing Grace rung out, friends and strangers united in their common grief. They lit candles to remember those who couldn't be at the event because their bodies weren't able to beat the disease. They lit candles in hope that those they loved would kick cancer's ass. They lit candles for friends, for family, for people they had never met. To walk around that track and feel the presence of all of those who lost their battles, to see the tears in everyone's eyes, to see friends and family grasp their loved ones tight in support, it was overwhelming. It no longer mattered that cancer wasn't overly close to me. What mattered is that we find a cure.

In 2008, it is estimated that approximately 166,400 new cases of cancer and 73,800 deaths would occur in Canada. That's an average of 3,200 Canadians diagnosed each week, and 1,419 Canadians who would die of cancer every week. Every one of us will be touched by the disease in our lifetimes, if not personally, then by dealing with the disease attacking a friend of family member.

Guys, I don't like to ask anything of you, but it would mean the world to me if you would pledge me for Edmonton's Relay for Life event this year. On the right sidebar, I have a link to my personal, secure page where, if you want to, you can make a donation. If you're in the area and want to join my team, give me a shout. The event is absolutely incredible and I encourage you to participate in an event near you (by the way, the Canadian event is based off of the ones done in the United States -- so even if you're not Canadian, you probably have one of these things taking place in your area).

Let's fight this disease for those who haven't been able to, for those who don't have the strength, for those who are too busy supporting their loved ones to have the energy. Let's make cancer history.

Examples the West being so very different from Ontario #389

The job market in Ontario is close to impossible. Hundreds of candidates battle it out for low-paying jobs. However... in Yellowknife, an employer is attempting to recruit workers from the drunk tank.

Yes, Yellowknife is not Alberta, but things are pretty crazy here too. I've had friends that have been visiting and they've been offered full-time jobs. Help wanted signs are everywhere. Companies offer English as a Second Language training in the workplace. They fly people in and accomodate them from Sri Lanka. They fly over Japanese students in attempts to lure them into moving their post-graduate lives to this province. Workers make the demands and the employers jump through hoops to attract and retain skilled workers. Madness, I tell you.

Incredibly awesome madness. The opportunities really are endless.