Ooooh mountains!

I took this picture last June when a bunch of us braved a torrential downpour (and snow) and foolishly headed to Nordegg for some camping. We were rewarded with gorgeous weather on Saturday and took in a hike to see some waterfalls.

I want a vacation. I don't need anything tropical, the heat and sun are no friends of mine. But I want to explore. Maybe it's just that I'm so sick of winter. I would settle for Edmonton if there was an abundance of sunshine and a lack of snow. The thought of walking around outside without a jacket just blows my mind.

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...

Throw back

I feel like I'm in highschool again. Or maybe more like university, wedged between political science and public relations. Edging up to graduation, deciding where the future will lead and collecting bits and pieces to plead my case.

It's been less than a week and an application has been sent, transcripts ordered, references acquired, resume updated and one puzzle piece still looming: my personal statement.

I need to hammer out at least three pages about my personal and career goals, my expectations, and my strengths. I've been carrying information around in my purse all weekend hoping for an epiphany. Hoping for the words to just pour out.

Somewhere around 3 a.m. last night, between a messed up nightmare that left me afraid to return to dreamland and succumbing to my heavy eyelids, it did.

Now I'm just scrambling to piece those words back together and hoping it doesn't come off too hokey.
I can't rock a headband like Blair Waldorf, but maybe as a reward I'll shell out for one of these... while I still have a very small bit of disposable income. Check out LovMely on Etsy for more gorgeous headgear.

Two hours of pitying glances. Tears wiped from my makeup-less face. A single, wet plait against my neck.

As I rest my head against the frosted train window, an ironic yellow sticker proclaims "Support the Inconvenience" in blue ink. An ironic sign from a higher power, as I wait for a message that I know won't come.

Two hours is the commute from my present life to my future. 

The only thing moving is me.

As I near my destination, covered in puddles, slush and snow, my steps slow and my form gets smaller. I can't help but thinking that maybe believing you're strong is the greatest weakness of all.

Put a little Spring in your step

I love this song, and not just because the band is from the city of my alma mater. (They're not together anymore anyway... sigh.)