Thursday.

Ugh.

Slept in this morning;

Awoke to find my alarm turned off and stuffed under my pillow.

As I have no memory of doing this, I blame the dust bunnies.

Or perhaps Morty has decided to branch out.

Food for the Soul

It was a warm, late September evening, and slow strains of bass and steel guitar drifted into the night as we drew near the entrance of the little bar in Inglewood. It had been a brutal day, and my soul was a bit tender. We stepped inside, and I was greeted by the cheerful sight of a busy barroom and a tiny stage against the back drop of a burgundy velvet curtain.

We sat and ordered drinks, and then I turned my attention to the three-man band before us. Harmonica, acoustic guitar, steel guitar, and bass. Their name was The Tim.Buck.Two, their style was country with a twist, and they were very good.

I watched the bass player dance around his instrument, the back of which was pleasantly scarred and battered. A sure sign of love. Then I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, feeling the vibrations course through me like electricity.

Before long, I found myself smiling and tapping my foot to the beat, the weight of the day sliding from my shoulders as they moved to the rhythm. The whole experience brought to mind a similar barroom, a few years and many miles away, where I used to sit for hours and let a different, but no less wondrous, music pour over and through me. I had honestly forgotten the sheer enjoyment of listening to a musician play his or her passion from a tiny stage.

It was a good night.

This time I've gone and done it. Again.

I have finally tasted pure bliss. After hearing about them for ages, I recently had the pleasure of experiencing a Crave cupcake. I could be in trouble.

And also? I'm moving to Calgary.

As you were.

I can quit anytime I want to. Honest.

Seriously. I'm not dependent upon my cellphone. I'm not.

Just because my cellphone is simultaneously my timepiece, my alarm clock, my window to the world, and the only way most people can get in touch with me does NOT make me dependent.

And the fact that I LEFT IT AT THE OFFICE, WHICH IS LOCKED FOR THE NEXT THIRTY-SIX HOURS BECAUSE TOMORROW IS A HOLIDAY is causing me to have mild heart palpitations doesn't mean I have a problem, does it?

The REAL reason they put benches in public washrooms.

Everyone seems to have a different sensitivity to Public Displays of Affection. Some are loathe to hold hands in public, while others seem to have no qualms about detailed exploration of their partner's anatomy whilst in a group situation. I place myself somewhere in the hazy middle of this scale: I don't consider myself to be a prude, but I wouldn't say I'm exactly an exhibitionist either. Really, I think I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to PDAs: I think it's nice to see a couple expressing their love? affection? for one another... but when a quick peck on the lips or a hand on the leg turns into obvious lust right before my eyes, I'll admit, I tend to feel awkward- like I'm peeping, even though we're all in a public place.

This brings me to an explanation of the motivation behind this post: On Saturday evening, I attended an event with a large group of friends. It was something we had all been looking forward to for a long time- winding down after a loooong couple of months while enjoying one another's company. One of our number has recently begun a new romantic relationship. He and his new amour are still in the cuddling, don't-want-to-let-you-out-of-my-sight-for-two-seconds phase, and it's really quite cute. To a point. During the course of the evening they spoke to approximately 5 people, and ended up making out in the middle of the room- taking a 30 second break every 5 minutes or so. I really would rather that I did not have as much detail as I do concerning their... mutual affection... but as they were in the middle of a rather small room, it was sort of hard to miss. At one point, they decided to get away from 'prying eyes' and proceeded to occupy one of the washrooms for a while...

*sigh*

The whole scenario reminds me strongly of a futuristic short story I once read (Jules Verne?) in which spontaneous sexual activity had replaced conversation as the culturally acceptable mode of relation between the sexes. The story, of course, revolved around a young man and woman who were looking more for cerebral than sexual stimulation, and thus found themselves at odds with the societal norms. It was a very interesting read, and I have often mused as to whether or not this is one direction in which our current society might be leading us...

Now don't get me wrong- no one at the party on Saturday was particularly upset by the couple's display of attraction- on the whole everyone was pretty amused: There were lots of comments along the lines of "Well I haven't seen THAT since I was in the eighth grade..." and the occasional joking "Ahhhh. Ain't love grand?" But it sparked a hot, and somewhat drunken, debate to which I now request your input. So here is the question:

Public Displays of Affection: How far is too far?

Go nuts.

Willingly boring holes in my teeth.

Yesterday morning, a beautifully sunny and brisk Sunday, a group of friends, acquaintances, and I ventured to the little pioneer village just outside of town to participate in the annual Sugar Bush ritual. We left at a relatively early hour, considered by some to be unreasonably early, in the hopes of beating the post-church crowds.

For those of you who have never experienced a Sugar Bush festival, it is an event the surrounds the production of maple syrup: Once all of the sap has been collected, it is boiled for hours and hours (~20 or so, I think), until it is reduced to the sticky goodness that is real maple syrup- it takes something like 30-40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup!

Once the syrup stage is reached, one pot is kept on the fire to be reduced even
further, in order to produce maple candy. This wondrous stuff is then poured over snow to cool, and then wrapped around a popsicle stick to make a sugary lollipop of bliss that will rot your teeth out of your mouth even as you consume it.

In my hometown, this process is combined with the annual fundraiser for the local Search and Rescue: what better to go with fresh maple syrup than a pancake breakfast? Once you've gorged yourself on a plate of pancakes and eggs and bacon and sauage and beans and toast, you can work it all off by wandering around the village, which is beautifully situated, and really quite pretty. This is made incredibly enjoyable by the satisfying feel of a full belly and listening to children yelp in delight as the pigs snuffle about their stalls. Later, you can stop in at the pub for hot apple cider (or hot toddy...), and purchase just about every form of maple sugar known to humankind.

I can't quite put my finger on why, but I always enjoy this outing immensley. It was a good Sunday.

Oops! Did I horn you?!

So Halloween has come and gone once again.

I really quite like All Hallows Eve... especially when it comes to manning the door at my parents house and greeting all of the neighbourhood kids- one of my favourite things to do. It's sort of a family tradition, you see. When I was growing up (and even still most years) My Mom and Dad would always get all costumed up. One of them would take my sister and I trick-or-treating, and the other would remain on door duty. It was great to watch my Dad in action at the door. He's always got a fabulous costume (my personal favorite was the very convincing California Raisin of 1988... does anyone besides me remember the California Raisins??) and never fails to grill the trick-or-treaters about their costumes, their candy haul, or whatever else might present itself. Those kids earn their candy at my house.

Since bridging the gap into 'adulthood' (is anyone really an adult at Halloween?), I've divided my time between the 'grown-up' Halloween parties, and door duty (fortunately, Halloween has a 5 in 7 chance of falling on a week night, so the parties are usually scheduled on the closest available weekend, thus freeing me up for door duty). This year, the party was also my friend's birthday. A group of us decided to go as... wait for it... the Spice Girls!

Look at us! Aren't we simply devastating? You'll note that, in keeping with an authentic Spice Girls look, I tried in vain to turn my cork-screw curls to Posh-pin straight, but alas, the rainy atmosphere had different plans.

I've got to say, it wasn't until we popped some old Spice Girls tunes on (you know, to get us in the mood), that I realized just how raunchy their lyrics are. What were we thinking?? But I digress...




Watch those things, Scary! I don't want to lose an eye! (I'm told that Tiffany, aka Scary Spice, was nearly reduced to cutting those things- actually gold christmas trees- out. Almost.)











... and here's Ginger (aka-my sister) striking a pose...

Bust a move, Graham! Oh, I mean... wait... who are you again?

This is Thuy (pronounced Twee) and Colin,
aka- a butterfly nymph and the undead...



















As you can see, a good time was had by all (despite the rain and the fact that come 1am there wasn't a single cab to be found in the whole of downtown) and the costumes were suprisingly entertaining.

Three nights later, I did door duty once again (as a slightly more wholesome gypsy this time), and was highly entertained by a variety of ghouls, goblins, a sleeping bunny, one very small giraffe, and a jack-o-lantern extinguishing turtle. Hee :D
.

ho hum

It's Friday! Yipppeeeee!

This is good. I have been schemeing about this day allllll the live-long week;

Very difficult decisions have to be made;

For instance:

- When it is finally time for me to drag my ass home for three full days of freedom from this hell-hole masquerading as an office, do I stop for the traditional Friday-at-5 beer, or do I just burn rubber to get away from here as quickly as possible??

- When I arrive home, do I slip into the flannel or the cotton pjs?

- What do I pour myself to drink? (and this is a tough one) A nice hot cup of Earl Grey, or the largest glass of red wine ever consumed? Or both?

- Finally, do I agonize over which movie to watch so I can knit whilst watching, or do I read my book, which precludes knitting... (now wishing I'd taken a page out of Aunt Nan's book and got the damned book on tape...)

VERY exciting stuff, I know. But it's been a week- well ok, a month- from hell, and it's the long weekend, so a girl's entitled to embrace her inner octogenarian, and hole-up on a Friday night, isn't she? All those in favour, say aye!