Summertime

You make me feel something like summertime
Top down ain't nothing but time
Radio's on and you're by my side
Feels something like summertime
Like that first slow dance and that first long kiss
There ain't nothing baby better then this
It's like a beach blanket and a bottle of wine
It feels something like summertime
Summertime
-- Bon Jovi

You know the weather so far this summer absolutely totally blows, sucks lemons big style. Nothing but rain and clouds and thunder and lightning and more rain and clouds and humidity and wind and on and on and on. Blech! BUT (and that's a big but) it honestly doesn't seem to make a freaking difference. I'm having a great summer so far! And everyone I know seems also to be having a great summer. Why is that? I can't speak for anyone else, but yesterday John Mayer blogged about this summer. And he nailed it:

My point is that whenever that someday comes, when I slide into the MRI scanner and the thing starts spinning up, spitting lasers and screaming into my ears, I may very well say to myself "I wish I had just one more of those summers."

I don't care if it rains every day all summer long, I'm going to have a great one, because I'm young and healthy and I love my life. I love my family, my friends, my work, my home, everything. Life is fabulous!

***

I had a great weekend. Saturday evening Stacy arrived at my house for a sleepover. We don't do this very often. We always say we're going to do stuff, go places, but we seldom seem to bring the plans into action. So we were excited! We went to Jungle Jim's (hadn't been in eons) and had chicken quesadillas then booted across the street to the movie theatre and the early showing of Wanted. Loved it! Go see this movie! Angelina kicks some serious ass in this one. And James McAvoy ... oh boy! He's a cutie! I really enjoyed it.

After the movie we went to the liquor store and bought some refreshments then headed back to my place to have a drink and abandon the car. We cabbed to Chatham just in time to catch the Sail Past of Lights, which was pretty disappointing at only three boats. But lots of people out and about on the Green. Water Street was blocked off for a street dance and there were vendors selling food and drinks. Echo was playing and they weren't bad. When we first arrived I thought the band might have been a John Fogerty/CCR tribute band, but they soon moved on to other types of music even the Scissor Sisters.

We travelled around there for a bit and then went to O'Donaghue's Pub. By the time we arrived, it was a little later and the place was packed with a line outside waiting to get in. Not having any other plan we decided to wait it out, and 25-30 minutes later we were in. The house band Mooseknuckle were playing. They're pretty good, entertaining. We had a good time. Lots of laughs.

Stayed til closing and made it home in one piece though in a round about "dropping off everyone and their dog first" way.

I had a hang-over Sunday morning, which I didn't really understand because I didn't seem to drink all that much (yet I did seem to be quite drunk). I guess I had one of those night's where I'm an easy drunk ... or else one of the bachelor party guys tried to eff me up by slipping me something ... nah, I was just an easy drunk. I could feel it right off the first glass of wine at Jungle Jim's.

Anyway, I was totally hung-over Sunday morning and Stacy had not put in a very good night either, so we got dressed and ventured out for breakfast. We decided to try Mike's Bar & Grill because they advertised an all-day Saturday and Sunday big breakfast special. It is a big breakfast. It comes on two plates, one with pancakes, the other with eggs, baked beans, deep fried potatoes, toast, and choice of bacon, ham or sausage (we had bacon). The pancakes were pretty tasty. My beans were ice cold. The bacon was too smoky. The potatoes were overcooked. The place was dark and dreary. The music was an all love songs all the time satellite radio station (think Jim Croce's Time in a Bottle followed by The Carpenters We've Only Just Begun). The waitress appeared to have never worked in food service before, though I'm sure she's a lovely bartender.

In other words, this is the place where people go to die. Seriously. Feeling suicidal? Not sure whether you can pull the trigger or not? Go to this place, have a drink, and by the time you leave you'll be so depressed you'll likely forget about the gun completely and just rush right out into the street in front of the next big transport truck passing by. I'm not kidding. We did not stay long. We did not eat much.

After breakfast we went to SuperValu where everyone and their dog apparently had gathered for some Sunday afternoon shopping therapy. Then Stacy dropped me off and headed home.

The black screen of death greeted me when I booted up my computer. "Oh God! Not again!" I cried. I crossed my fingers as I waited for the computer to go through it's little corruption check while I hoped the O/S would catch and start, not shut-down. Ten minutes later it started up. Whew! Narrow escape. But yeah, it might last another year or it might not start up the next time I turn it on, so I immediately took some time to get my affairs in order and backed up my work onto disc. My inbox has 0 messages currently. To be fair it only had 14 or so yesterday, but there were some important ones that would have been a bad loss. I have been doing a decent job of dealing as things arrive. Now the thing can die and I won't lose anything.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening lying on my futon draped in my fuzzy blanket and watching episodes of Mad Men and Swingtown. I really enjoyed the first season of Mad Men and can't wait for the second. I watched a few episodes of Swingtown and it seems really good too. Check them out, if you haven't.

Mood: scattered
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: me, typing
Hair: dirty

Your Time is Gonna Come

Feeling a little agitated today. I know what's got my goat. Trying to get past it, talk myself through. Doesn't always work. Sometimes only musical immersion therapy helps. So I've cranked Zeppelin.

I still remember the first time Kevin played the Houses of the Holy album for me. An actual album, vinyl. It was the late 80s. I was listening to Madonna, Cher, Cyndi Lauper, the Bangles, Fine Young Cannibals, Roxette ... and I was on a country kick because it made me feel a little closer to home to listen to Shenandoah, Clint Black, Rodney Crowell, The Judds, Ricky Scaggs, Kathy Mattea, Holly Dunn, the Desert Rose Band and of course, my mom's favourite, Alabama. I was in no musical frame of mind for Houses of the Holy. Perhaps if I had toked, but that was never my thing.

I remember sitting on the floor as the needle grooved along the record. "I don't like this," I proclaimed shortly. He was astonished, how could anyone not like Zeppelin's Houses of the Holy?! "It scares me," I continued. "It's too dark. I can't listen." He pretty much dismissed my musical tastes as being nothing more than "bubble gum" from that moment on -- we could share a love of Billy Joel, but I'd never "get" The Tragically Hip. I meant that Zeppelin was too emotionally overwhelming for me on that particular day and time, not that it was bad. I just didn't want to be melancholy, to think too deep, to be too happy, to feel too much ... because if I felt too much I would cry, and I most definitely did not want to cry in front of this man who was so perfect and godlike in my eyes.

I never bothered to correct his incorrect perception of me. I let it drop, let him think I didn't like Zeppelin. So I suppose I probably shouldn't have been surprised many years later when he didn't get my irony as I teased that Alanis Morissette's lyrics were nothing but "bubble gum." We had been separated and hadn't seen each other for a few years, but I guess I thought he knew me better. So what was supposed to be a playful personal joke hearkening back to the early days of our love, turned into a "I can't effing believe you and your high horse" lecture from a man I didn't recognize. Again, I didn't correct him. My silence confirmed his perception.

This is something I do. My sense of humour type is ironic/sarcastic. I deliver a line that is directly opposed to my personal belief, which I believe is completely obvious to anyone who knows me, and most times I think is so generally absurd as to be completely obvious to anyone who isn't some sort of religious or right-wing extremist freak.

I do it without thinking, it's an automatic reaction ... but I'll deliver this completely absurd line without flinching, without cracking a smile, as if I honestly believed what I was saying (hence the irony of the joke). And I would stop doing this all together if I could, but out of everything I do this is the thing that is the most natural and unconscious, like breathing, like sneezing ... I don't seem to be able to do anything to stop it because it happens so quick ... I have no freaking idea where it comes from.

And more often than not, although it's probably really only 25% of the time, people take me at face value, like Kevin did with Alanis. And I don't correct them. I just let them think whatever I've just said, which is the direct opposite of what I really think, is what I think. I let people's perceptions of me get skewed. And I'm not just talking strangers, colleagues, general acquaintances, I mean my best friends, my parents, my sisters, the people who are closest to me. When it happens I say nothing, and people take my silence as reinforcement.

Why do I do this? I mean with strangers and general acquaintances, it doesn't really matter one way or the other, and I really shouldn't be expecting them to understand my sense of humour anyway because they don't know me from a hole in the ground, so I get what I deserve if they think I'm arrogant or twisted. But close friends? Family? How come I never speak up and say, "I was kidding." Maybe I do sometimes, but generally, I don't. I just don't. I sit there like a ninny and generally take whatever tongue lashing they're dishing out or listen to their argument for the "other" side ... which is really the side I'm all ready on ... oi! It's complicated, I know.

As I sat quietly listening to Kevin tell me what an unimaginative uncreative non-artistic soul I must be if I couldn't see the poetry in the lyrics of Alanis, I felt like I had been slapped in the face. At one time this was the person I was closest to in the world, and yet here was proof he didn't really know me very well at all. Obviously, he didn't remember how he used to tease me about my "bubble gum" music. He didn't get that Alanis was such an amazing talent that for anyone to say otherwise was absurd and therefore, "Isn't it ironic?" By the time I came around to the point where I could speak without crying because I was so upset, it seemed too late to say, "I was kidding you freaking moron."

It hurt me on a very deep level and I never thought of him in quite the same way again. To be honest, I never really enjoyed Alanis much after that either. I always associate her with the hurt of this memory.

It's funny how such simple little things can have such an impact on our lives. I have an ironic sense of humour. A lot of people don't. A lot of people don't get the irony in my humour, or they only get it some of the time. A lot of the time it doesn't matter if people get me or not, but sometimes it does, when it's my family and close friends. Maybe I can't control the jokes, maybe they'll just spill out unannounced and unpredicted like always, but I should at least be able to speak up and say I was kidding. If I could get past the shock and hurt and "I'm all alone in the world" feelings just a tad bit quicker, I wouldn't be five minutes into a heated argument and saying, "I was kidding," would be a helluva lot easier to do. I can work on that. Maybe all it takes is setting the record straight one time and not letting people walk away with a completely ass-backward skewed view of me.

***

Years ago I was out at a party with a friend and I did it, I made an ironic joke. After an awkward silence, I was just about to fess up (because it's easier to say you're kidding if the other people are not close friends and they are silently standing there passing their judgment rather than trying to bring you around to the right way of thinking) when my friend laughed, "She's just kidding." My silence confirmed his theory, as I turned and looked into his eyes with amazement. "Wow! I think he sees me, he really sees me!"

Somewhere in the world there is a man who thinks he has known me as well as I know myself. We shared our most intimate secrets and loved each other deeply for many years. He has no doubt that I hate Led Zeppelin, The Tragically Hip and of course, Alanis Morissette. Somewhere else there is a man who knows very few of my secrets and has no idea he knew me like nobody else.

Mood: less agitated having written this
Drinking: coffee, black, water, wet
Listening To: eyes without a face, billy idol
Hair: headbanded like an 80s Olivia Newton John

A Trojan Weekend

Thanks to Wandering Coyote for bringing this to my attention. Loves it!

Well, the Canada Day celebrations begin this weekend and I might actually be going places and doing stuff. Cool. Plans are kinda coming together. Now, I need to clean my house and put my ducks in a row.

Not as sore today though I've got some inflammation happening in the neck which is both arthritis and exercise related. So far it's not excruciating and I'm not too concerned. Looking forward to going for training this afternoon. It'll be good.

Mood: having a laugh
Drinking: water
Listening To: birds
Hair: frizzy

My Life ... Wild?

Bopping to Talking Heads. Thinking of you, sir, of course.

So I started my day off right with a balanced breakfast that included an egg white omelet and only half my usual coffee intake. Set my cellphone alarm to remind me to eat something every few hours. Water bottles have been filled and chilled and I will empty them all into my belly before day's end. These nutrition things aren't so hard once I get into the swing of things, but I've been off-track since mid-April so it takes a few days.

Yesterday I had my first training session. I did 25 minutes cardio on the treadmill. I could have done more because the treadmill is my best friend, but we were just easing me in and seeing where I'm at, what speed I need to go to get my heart rate up to fat burning mode. The treadmill was easy but then we moved into strength to work my upper body muscles and this is a completely new territory where I know nothing. I've never used any of the equipment. I've not really so much as ever lifted a dumbbell. Well, you know, I have little dumbbells that I've used on my own before ... but did I have proper form, did I know what muscles I was working, did I have any freaking clue what I was doing ... no, I did not. So the strength exercises were a learning experience for sure. I'm totally out of my comfort zone there.

It was good though. We took our time, he explained things well and corrected me when I needed it. He didn't push me so much that I would dread going back, but I'm so out of shape that today I'm a little sore so I know that we worked muscles that haven't worked in awhile (maybe ever!) Tomorrow we'll do more cardio and lower body. I feel like I'm probably stronger in my lower body than upper but we'll see.

So that's it! I paid my money and I'm in, for better or for ... better! There is no such thing as worse on this subject. The only thing that could constitute worse would be if I didn't go, if I didn't commit, and that is not an option. I've made a financial investment so now I've got to make sure I get my money's worth, end of story.

Mood: psyched
Drinking: black coffee, water
Listening To: cry for love, iggy pop
Hair: entering a longish stage

Good Rockin'

It was tough growing up in rural NB with only two tv channels and no FM radio. Everything I knew about music I learned from Stan the Man on Switchback CBC Sunday morning, the New Music magazine with JD Roberts and Jeanne Beker, Good Rockin' Tonight with Terry David Mulligan and then Stu Jeffries and WNBC out of New York that would come in on the radio in my dad's car late at night when the air was clear. Big old Ford LTD, black, tan/taupe interior, possibly a 1974 or '76, two door. I'd sit out there discretely smoking until I knew my parents had gone to bed and wouldn't catch me, twisting the dial until I heard the call sign -- wNbc! That's how I saw it in my head, all lower case except the N, they always put the emphasis on the N. I'd hope the signal would last until Imus came on in the morning. I loved the promos for his show. But as the night wore into morning the static would pick up until finally the station blinked out like it never existed. God, those were simpler times! I was reminded of this when a friend told me about this 80's Music Festival happening in Saint John.



Mood: nostalgic
Drinking: hot chocolate
Listening To: my jaw snapping as i chew gum
Hair: fluffy

Briefly

It's pretty warm, humid. My head feels terrible. Heavy. Paining. I need to buy some Advil maybe. Am heading over to the Park Inn for a working lunch with my Mighty partners in crime later. A late lunch because of other meetings and things, but still, it will be lovely.

Yesterday I did something extremely uncharacteristic of me. EXTREMELY! I mean I have no idea who that girl was yesterday, cuz the Kellie I've known for 39 years would not be caught dead doing what I was doing. Here I grow again! It's uncomfortable so it must be good.

I went to a gym. Yes! Really! Me! In a gym! I didn't work out. I went for a consultation with a personal trainer. I went because I was curious and I fully expected that I would get an unpleasant vibe off the guy or the place or something and that would be the end of it and I'd go home and eat nachos and drink wine. But that didn't happen. I actually believed the guy when he said he would take my health goals on as if they were his own. I actually liked the idea that if I don't show up he's going to be calling to see where the hell I am. And after about an hour of chit chat I felt that his way of training meshed with my way of wellness and balance thinking and I committed myself to three days a week. Poof! Just like that the Kellie who doesn't believe in gyms, who thinks it's a big waste of money, who believes anything you can do in a gym you can accomplish at home with a set of weights and a yoga mat ... that girl died just enough to allow me to make a huge investment in my personal health and fitness. And I mean financial as well as time investment.

I am still in shock. Can't believe I've done this. I will have to sacrifice ... lots of stuff! ... just to pay for this. And in a way that also made sense to me, that surely if I make that huge of a financial commitment (this is the most expensive place in town, doctors wives go there for godsake, all the rich biz guys, etc.) surely if i invest all of my savings and have to scrabble every month to pay the fees, surely, surely, surely, I will not take this hit to the pocketbook lightly and I will do the work and I will get my money's worth. Right? I absolutely refuse to be one of the people who pay the membership and never go. Uh-uh! No way! If I pays my money, you can be damn sure I'm showing up.

I feel certain that this might be the only way for me. Left to my own devices I am mostly a lazy sloth. Now, I'm going to have a guy keeping an eye on me and depending on me and pushing me. Crazy! I'm still in shock. This is a whole new world for me.

Mood: adventurous
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: the fan recycling the humid air
Hair: stringy

Three Thirty Three

OMG!

Fault Lines

Something has happened. Something I haven't experienced in ... so many years I can't remember the last time. Something marvelous and inspiring and ... more ... so much more.

Wednesday, after only about five weeks of reading I finished Richard Ford's Independence Day and felt a kind of sense of accomplishment. Whenever I take time for reading not work related it's a bit of an event. I read A LOT! I read all day, every day, no time off for bad behaviour. The bulk of my living comes from reading and I work all the time.

I don't read many books for leisure in the run of a year because generally it happens right before I go to sleep and I can only get in a couple of pages or 15 minutes max before I fall dead away and usually I'm not that into the book anyway so putting it down in favour of sleep is easy. Remember The Davinci Code? That took forever to finish. I couldn't turn off the editor part of my brain that desperately wanted to whip that book into shape. I find it impossible to lose myself in a poorly written book. But turning to the classics or more skillfully written modern literature doesn't always work either. Yes, my internal editor won't nitpick the writing (though my internal writer will admire certain phrasings and techniques and note them for future use) but literature can be dense. It can require a lot of thought and effort to process. And after a long day, I'm often not up to the challenge.

So on Wednesday afternoon during lunch I finished Ford's book with a sense of accomplishment because it really hadn't taken that long to get through and even though I didn't feel particularly moved or provoked in any way I didn't feel cheated either. The experience was not unpleasant. And nine times out of ten the experience is at least a little unpleasant. I have the next novel in that series but I wasn't immediately drawn to find out what happens next, so I went to the bookcase to see what else was on tap.

And that's when I noticed Nancy Huston's Fault Lines. I purchased the book a couple of months ago at Frye Festival. She wasn't the reason I went to Frye (Russell Banks drew me). I hadn't read her, hadn't even heard of her before to my knowledge. But I noticed right away that she was the draw for many of my peers.

I attended a round table discussion in which she participated. Four authors discussing the a-ha moments of writing. I came away with the sense that she was a very opinionated and private person. She left me a little cold to be honest. She seemed ... lofty, guarded, controlled. I immediately went to the bookstore and bought another member of the panel's book. But I was still curious enough about her to attend her solo evening event.

A trio of musicians played exactly the right notes at the right time while Nancy Huston read from Fault Lines in English and French. Except this was no ordinary reading. The characters are all children and she became each of these children one after the other and it didn't matter that I couldn't understand the French parts and it didn't matter that I had a not so great opinion of the author before the event, she became the children and I was mesmerized. During the performance (because it totally wasn't a reading) she sang and danced and totally abandoned herself to become her characters. It was the most amazing literary event I've ever attended, and I've attended a lot of amazing literary events. Afterward I immediately rushed into the lobby and bought her book, having gained a new respect and awe for the woman as an artist.

Fast forward to Wednesday, bed time, picking a new book after finishing Richard Ford's novel and finding myself uninspired to immediately continue with the next in his series. My eyes slid across Nancy Huston's name in the bookshelf and instantly I was transported back to that auditorium and the most magical night of literature ever, so I plucked the novel from the herd and settled into my bed for a few minutes or pages reading. And then I got lost. Two hundred and fifty pages before I looked up and noticed the time. Really late! I hated to stop but I didn't want to stay up all night either. So I set it aside, turned out the light and tried to drift. Flash! Crack! Lightning. Thunder. And I'm up. I'll just finish to the end of the section ...

At some point I slept for a few hours and then finished the novel. Two sittings. Hours of reading at one time. Completely lost in the story. THIS never happens to me anymore! I had forgotten the joy of a good book. How it makes me want to write. How it makes me want to read more books. Well written, yet easily accessible. Brilliant! I loved it so much that as soon as I finished I wanted to start at the beginning and read it again. I didn't. I am loaning it to my mother first. When it returns I'll read it again. If you haven't already, read this book. It may be one of my favourites of all time.

I have since moved on to Russell Banks (the Frye draw) and so far that reading is going well too, more quickly than the Ford book, though I have been able to put it down and go to sleep.

Mood: inspired
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: crows fighting with seagulls over crusts of bread
Hair: uninspired

Sukie in the Graveyard

I don't need the Full Moon icon on my calendar to alert me to the fact that tomorrow is the night. Long-time readers know my sleep pattern is disrupted by the cycle and my dreams go off the charts around the full moon. Last night I went to bed relatively early (11'ish) in hopes of waking at 5:30 and taking a long walk. I read for a bit (just after midnight'ish) but couldn't get my to-do list off my mind so I took a few minutes to electronically whip it up on the cell that I'm increasingly finding more purpose in owning.

Then I drifted ... back to Toronto ... where I ran into everyone I ever knew there and several people I didn't. We went to movies, shopped, rode the streetcar, had several affairs, got into some fistfights, drank a slew of Cosmos and many bottles of Dom Perignon, attended concerts, danced in the streets with sports fans, brunched, lunched, supped, snacked, met rock stars, danced in clubs, tried on every stitch of clothing ever made as we searched for the perfect outfit, interviewed for new jobs ... and on and on and on ... until I woke at 3:30am completely worn out and crossed my fingers that in the next dream I would fly to someplace less stimulating.

Back in dreamland my prayers were semi-answered as I found myself leisurely wandering around a nearly empty antique shop. Just me and a boyfriend in this huge dusty shop housed in what once must have been a magnificent mansion. In case I haven't mentioned it, I am always aware I'm dreaming. I haven't mastered the remote control yet, but I generally know I'm in a dream. So I was surprised to see which (now ex) boyfriend my brain conjured to accompany me on this dream excursion. Surrounded by the soothing scent of old books I settled into what would surely be a more relaxing type of dream that would take me the rest of the way to 5:30 with enough rest to pull off a morning walk ... and then the rest of the bus tour passengers rushed in along with a stern efficient guide who barked, "Five minutes, folks! Quick like bunnies! We've got 250 more scheduled stops today!" My heart sank as I realized my brain wasn't done torturing me just yet, but at least I had a good companion for the trip I thought and turned to take his hand. Of course he was long gone, morphed into a more disturbing ex, the one who might poison the water in my bottle if I let it out of my sight. Lovely!

And just like that the dream turned to nightmare with me running and hiding in the huge mansion antique store as I searched for the canteen so I could buy a new bottle of water. I opened one eye at 5:30 to see rain and fog outside, feeling like I'd been clobbered by a baseball bat in my sleep, the ache of exhausting dreams mingling with arthritic inflammation brought on by the weather. I rolled over and returned to my dreams, hoping I'd find myself back in Toronto, which at least wasn't life and death frightening just exhausting. No such luck, but at least I was in line at the canteen about to buy a new bottle of water. Of course I had no money I realized as I came to the front. Somebody had stolen my purse. Lucky for me another ex was in line behind me and offered to buy me a drink. And then the canteen changed to a bar and we were laughing and flirting and playing pool ...

I didn't get up until after 10. I've drunk a pot of coffee. I feel like I pulled an all-niter. Every bone and muscle in my body is aching. This is what a full moon does to me.

Mood: foggy
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: over the hills and far away, led zeppelin
Hair: unkempt

101 in 101 Update

Briefly updated my 101 in 101 list. Want to revamp the whole thing, start fresh with things that matter to me now. Might get to that this week sometime.

My arthritis is acting up today. A little achy in the knees and fingers. A whole lotta sleepy and lazy from pain.

Went to the folks for Father's Day. Got caught up on Corrie and had a bbq. Spent some quality time with my furry beast.

Mood: tired (i know for sure because my mood ring has come back)
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: typing
Hair: stringy and needing a cut

First We Take ...

Last night's birthday celebration turned into Kellie's Pub Crawl 2008. Me, my sister (and DD), and two friends I haven't seen in awhile and always enjoy hanging out with. We started at Boston Pizza with BIG salads and desserts. And drinks (at least for me ... one Cosmo, a glass of red, and a Spanish coffee). Unfortunately the patio wasn't open but that was okay. Our waitress screwed up the bills a whopping three times which was freaking hilarious.

After dinner we crossed the bridge to Chatham and O'Donaghue's Irish Pub. There wasn't much going on there so early, and we had already eaten so we just stayed for one drink (a red wine for me) and headed back to Newcastle having made plans to return later in the month when Jake Stewart is playing there.

Two of our party had never been to the Black Horse Tavern before in the Miramichi Hotel, so we hit it up next. Two glasses of beer for $2.50. Dirty men groaning and smacking their lips at us when we crossed the floor. We played pool and laughed and danced to old songs on the jukebox. Fun times!

After our excursion into the Black Horse we went down the street to the Boulevard Pub. It seemed to be having a bit of an off night or something. The music was too loud, a big screen tv showing golf overpowered the room. I've been in there during the day before, and it definitely seems nicer during the light of day or something. Plus I made the mistake of ordering the house wine, Piat D'or (which I loathe) out of a box (which is rarely drinkable). They do have some lovely wines there, including Wolf Blass Yellow Label, so it wasn't their fault I should have ordered better. The washrooms were really nice and clean though as I took my first and only pee break of the evening causing one of our party to exclaim, "How can you drink so much and pee so little?!" It is a gift. Once upon a time though I would go the whole night without venturing into the public washroom. Just saying.

The night was getting on and we still hadn't found a crowd or anything much exciting (not counting the Black Horse experience) so we left The Boulevard seeking our last stop of the evening ending up at Jack's Oasis Pub. There was a band finishing up a set as we entered and sat at what has to be the widest table ever to find a home in a bar. We marvelled at the old man levitating across the way and I ordered a drink called a Porn Star that tasted like blue Mr. Freezies and the bartender told me was her specialty. It was pretty good but I downed it fast so we could get the hell out of there.

By then I was ready for ice cream and home, so one quick Ben and Jerry's stop later I found myself sprawled on the futon watching The Darjeeling Limited. I watched about 45 minutes before I fell asleep and woke cold and cramped at 5am when buddy upstairs finally stumbled home (without his truck again) from where ever he had been playing poker and/or getting laid. While he clumped around upstairs I made my way to the spare room and crashed for another 5 hours or so.

I can't remember the last time I pub crawled ... if ever. It was an interesting and fun way to celebrate my birthday. Thanks girls! I had a great time.

Mood: i couldn't say ... someone has stolen my mood ring
Drinking: coffee, black, perked
Listening To: lawnmowers and seagulls
Hair: approaching critical thickness

Bday Weekend Celebrations Begin

On Sunday (Father's Day) I celebrate my birthday. I was born on Father's Day so it's always fitting somehow when the dates line up again. We had planned a Sex and the City party for Saturday night to celebrate (which would have been so freaking fabulous!) but then Empire Theatres announced their weekend schedule and lo and behold the movie wasn't being held over another week. Bummer! So then the scramble started to make other plans.

As a result last night one of my sisters, a friend and myself went to see the movie, tonight my other sister, myself and hopefully some other friends are going out for pub food and cocktails. It's not exactly the weekend I had envisioned but that's okay.

The clothes and the shoes in the movie were fabulous! I love, love, loved the wardrobe! I liked the movie. I will likely buy it on dvd and definitely go see another if they make one. The Miranda/Steve storyline had me tearing up a few times. I don't want to say too much in case you haven't seen it yet, but ... the Carrie/Big storyline kind of didn't do it for me. I felt their ending was rushed and unrealistic. It felt underdeveloped or something. But this is no way ruined the fabulousness of the film for me. I loved it! Flaws and all! If it was still playing I'd go see it again tonight. I mean the shoes for godsake are worth the price of admission.

Mood: cheerful
Drinking: black coffee
Listening To: the washer spinning
Hair: bed head

Wild Wild Life

Can't listen to Talking Heads without being reminded of Kevin Smith. Can't be reminded of Kevin Smith without laughing. Talking Heads, Kevin Smith, laughing -- all good stuff! Especially in the morning when one needs some get up and bop energy. So today I've got to get my shit together. I need to go out and buy some freaking groceries for one thing, it's been slim picking since I returned from the trip and I've actually taken to going out to the Esso for ice cream treats in the evening, which can't be good. So number one on my list today is a trip to Sobey's. Followed closely by number two: clean up this freaking sty you call home!

Yes, if you recall things were a bit insane leading into the trip, not a lot of time to get my affairs in order before leaving, couldn't even get all my work done before I left and had to take the whole first day to finish when I arrived. I also did not have time to tidy up my abode before I left and sadly I have not taken any initiative on that front since my return, until now. Today I must tidy because I could very well have a guest/guests this evening. The powers in charge of our local theatre have decided not to hold the Sex and the City movie over for another weekend, so now tonight is the last night. There goes my birthday party! Out the freaking window!

So now at least Jenn and I will go to see the movie tonight. I've asked all the girls but who knows if anyone can make it. My birthday will now continue tomorrow night at the Opera House for burgers and wings and Jakebreak is playing. At least Sherry and I will go to that and again I've asked all the girls, but who knows if anyone can make it. And just like that, Empire Theatres have ruined my birthday. I now have two dates with two sisters who can't make it on the same night and perhaps no friends :( Oh well, it's only a birthday I guess and not even a huge milestone one, so I guess it doesn't really matter in the big scheme of things.

And now I best be getting to things.

Mood: awake
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: the stroke, billy squier
Hair: needing a little trim

The Rest of the Story

I am back home again. Whew! What a whirlwind! Last night I slept in the spare room, mostly because I was too lazy to clean off my bed which I left in a shambles of last minute packing scramble. But I also wanted to sleep someplace where I wouldn't be able to wake up and see a clock, so I could just stay in bed until my body said it was time to get up, because if I wake and see the clock blinking morning I will get up. As a result I stayed in bed until after 11, so I must've needed the rest.

Monday afternoon I ventured downtown on my own to attend a taping of The Hour. I took a bus east to the St. Clair W subway station then rode south all the way to Union Station where I exited onto Front Street and started walking west. By this time I was kind of hungry so I figured I'd grab a bite somewhere along the way. I thought about treating myself by going into the Royal York in search of eats but by that time I had gone past and would have had to backtrack. I considered REALLY treating myself by lunching at Azure where Stacy and I got the most incredible eggs benny ever on the last trip, but I just wasn't feeling very fancy, and it was so freaking hot, I just wanted to disappear underground into a dark nook or cranny. And then I remembered! I was heading right toward the Canyon Creek Chophouse where Stacy and I had enjoyed steaks and garlic bread and rich desserts. I had said I wouldn't go without her ... but ... damn! I was hungry and it was RIGHT there! So I went in and opted to sit in the bar area in a cute little 2-person booth. I had a really nice California cab. I did not order the amazing garlic bread but just had regular bread with maple butter. I ordered the lunch prime rib which came with creamy mashed potatoes and crispy onions. It was okay but a little underdone for me. Then I had an espresso and the pecan pie for dessert. I couldn't remember anything about the pie from before, just that it was rich. I totally forgot that it was freaking huge and a meal in itself. Nevertheless I sucked back half of it and by the time I was done lunching it was time to go to the CBC.

I went into the CBC store and looked around but didn't see anything I wanted to buy, or should I say I saw nothing that I wanted to carry for the rest of the day and back to New Brunswick. Have I mentioned that it was over 34 degrees with humidity pushing the temperature much higher setting new records for Toronto? I found my way to the right entrance for The Hour on John Street and entered air conditioning just in the nick of time before I died of complete heat exhaustion.

I was a little early and not sure where I was supposed to be so I went up to the security desk to inquire. I'm standing there waiting when I hear a familiar voice. I turn and Brian Dennehy is standing right beside me barking into his phone. His handler or agent or what have you was the girl being helped in front of me. Kinda cool. I was one of the first people to arrive so I went to stand along the wall and wait to check in. While I was standing there George walked by about a half dozen times always pausing to say hello and high-five people, thanking us for coming. Again, kinda cool. Also while I waited in line, Salman Rushdie came in with his agent or manager or what have you and was introduced to CBC staff right in front of me. Nobody else in the line seemed to recognize him or something and I must've had an oh-my-god-it's-rushdie look on my face because when he went to go up to the studio he looked at me and nodded and we said hello. Very cool.

They took us upstairs in small groups of around 25 people. I was in the first group. Once upstairs we were offered snacks of Sun Chips and corralled in four lines. George was still running all around. They had a big tv set up outside the studio and hooked up to Guitar Hero. Anyone who wanted to could play to try and win comfy seats on the leather couch for them and their guests. I've never played before so I didn't try. The guy who won was an addict anyway, so nobody could have beat him, but it didn't matter I ended up with a better seat than the couch anyway. You don't get to choose your seat, they have a guy who seats you, and he put me in the front row right beside George's chair directly facing the guest. Best damn seat in the house! Seriously!

George talks to the audience during commercials answering questions and requesting feedback. They also give away prizes. They had several copies of Rushdie's book, gift certificates for massages, cosmetic prize packs, a funky looking vacuum and a bunch of other stuff. I didn't win anything, but I didn't care, less stuff to carry you know, and I was just happy to be there.

It felt like Rushdie was speaking directly to me throughout his interview, he seemed to be looking right at me. Of course I was sitting right beside the camera, so I'm sure that's what he was really looking at. Dennehy was really entertaining. And we had an extra special treat because they pre-taped an interview with Muhammad Yunus that will air on tonight's show. So look for me in the audience tonight as well. After the show I waited around and met George and got my picture taken with him. If I can ever figure out how to get it off my camera, I'll post it on Facebook or something. I watched the show later and saw myself in the audience several times. If you go to The Hour website you can watch the interviews and look for me.

When I came out from the studio into the heat I saw it had rained recently but it hadn't cooled off the city any. I walked back to Union and took the subway up to St. Clair West where I promptly lost my head to humidity and jumped on a streetcar heading east ... it didn't take long for me to realize I was going the wrong way so I got a transfer and switched. By the time I arrived at Taia and Ian's I was an addled wilted mush brain. Yes, stupid with the heat. It happens. But I cooled down eventually and we spent the evening reading, watching a movie and then The Hour. We went to bed kind of late amidst a terrible thunder storm. Wicked. I think something close by must have gotten struck by lightning. At one point everything went dark for a couple of seconds. I did manage to get some sleep though. I had the alarm set for 4:45 am but woke up on my own at 4:20 and just got up rather than bear the sound of the alarm first thing. Taia got up and wished me a good trip. I showered and packed and was waiting on the front porch when the airport taxi arrived around 5:30.

I had absolutely no problems at Pearson whatsoever. Security were in better spirits than the guys in Moncton had been. Westjet gates were right there and my flight clearly labeled. People were lined up forever to get into the Tim Horton's, so I opted for the much shorter (one person in front of me) line at an independent coffee shop, where the coffee was perfectly fine. I got a coffee, apple juice and bagel with cream cheese and settled in to wait. Our flight was delayed by 10 minutes. I later learned this was because they were waiting on a connecting flight from out west, which was eventually diverted to Hamilton and we ended up leaving without those passengers anyway. One minute we had sunshine outside the wall of windows and the next there was nothing but black with the clouds seeming to press right in on us to the point where you couldn't even see to the end of the gates where the planes waited for boarding. Rain lashing the windows. Lightning brightening everything. And our flight delayed by another 10 minutes. Not that I wanted to fly out in that storm. Tornado was definitely a concern. But the weather lifted and we eventually started to board. Now my main concern was arriving in Moncton in time to catch the bus to Miramichi.

The captain spoke with us at the beginning of the flight to calm anyone's nerves about the delays and the weather. It worked. At least on me. I was sitting in seat 13F, window seat, but right on the wing, which kind of sucked for looking straight down when there was a break in the clouds and you could see the ground. The flight was uneventful. I watched a little tv and enjoyed the world outside my window. I wanted to strangle the guy sitting next to me who used his cellphone during the flight, but I figured it can't be THAT dangerous or else they'd ban the damn things rather than trust people (idiots) not to use them ... right? They would, right? Anyway, that's how I kept myself from freaking out on his arrogant ass. Because by this time I was starting to get really tired and cranky. We made good time to Moncton flying higher (44,000 feet) and faster (560 mph) than we had on the flight to Toronto. I didn't have any bags checked so once we were on the ground I just exited and grabbed a cab to the bus station downtown arriving in lots of time to catch my bus.

I dozed in and out most of the bus ride. In Miramichi for some strange reason there were no cabs waiting, so I called one and then shared it with an older lady going to Chatham. Yesterday afternoon I mostly just chilled and watched Sex and the City episodes, stumbling to bed pretty early, where as I've said I slept very well. Today, I feel a bit like I've been hit by a truck. Sore. Tired around the eyes. Needing to clean up and get back into the routine.

Mood: worn
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: i'm deranged, david bowie
Hair: greasy

Just Like Riding a Bicycle

The last time I came to Toronto was January 2006. It was a mild winter, no snow, no winter jackets or boots required, we roamed the streets in light spring jackets. I hadn't been back to the city since I left my great job and my boyfriend in a burned out state of meltdown at least a decade earlier. A lot had changed. A lot hadn't. Stacy and I went nuts hitting all the touristy type restaurants and filling our days with activities. By the end of that trip I returned home having had a great time but feeling dead certain that I would never want to live here again, that I could never integrate myself into this lifestyle again. So it's strange to find myself on the morning of my last day feeling a little wistful about leaving. I think I have fallen back in love with this city. It will be interesting to see how I feel as we fly away, back in Moncton, at my apartment. But one thing is for certain, I need to come to Toronto more often.

On Saturday afternoon I ventured out to Etobicoke to visit with the Hetheringtons. I saw some old friends and I met some new ones. I drank more beer than I've had since the days of the Power Track. I stayed up really late talking into the wee hours. And then I slept in the little room upstairs and remembered the night I slept there with Kevin and watched Thurman peeking in to see who was with his son. I got up before everyone else, made coffee, let the cats outside and looked around at all the pictures on the walls and mantles, some I remembered because they were old, some I knew nothing about because they happened after my time. Isabel got up first and we sat and talked. MB got up just as I was thinking I should head out and I set a course in my head. I left with hugs and a good feeling.

My body seemed to go on auto-pilot as I walked down Foch to Woodbury where I used to live. I looked down the block to see if I could see anything familiar about the old apartment, but there was nothing to see. I walked out Woodbury to Brown's Line where the crosswalk has gotten a whole lot more complicated and Pizza Pizza is now a Subway with a Dunkin' Donuts on the opposite corner. I crossed to the bus stop and waited. They told me all the buses go to the subway now, I could get on anyone that came. I thought I'd have to wait a really long time because it was Sunday, but it wasn't long at all. The bus was called Shorncliffe, which was a new route for me. The buses are more sophisticated now with a recorded voice announcing the stops and a screen displaying which one is next. We went to Kipling Station. Back in the day we always went to Islington instead. But I'd been to Kipling a lot of times when I would take a taxi home or Kev would pick me up at the kiss 'n ride. On the subway I studied the route map and decided to get off at Bathurst and see about catching a bus north to St. Clair W. Just missed a bus, so we had to wait. I confirmed with another passenger that the bus would definitely go where I needed it to go. They're doing a lot of construction on Bathurst, so the bus detoured, going west on Dupont to Christie and then north to St. Clair. I got off on the corner of Christie and St. Clair, crossed the street and started walking east reading the sign posts at streets to see if I could find Wychwood. Easily done. A couple of blocks later and I arrived back at Taia and Ian's just as they were leaving for Mad's piano recital.

I showered and changed and went out to sit in the shade in the backyard and read a book. They came back about an hour later and we went to see a movie at a theatre in Yorkville. We tried to get VIP seating, which costs a lot more, but you get a nice seat with a table and staff serve you your popcorn at your seat. It's a limited group too, but unfortunately they don't have VIP seating for kids, because I guess not all children are as well behaved as Madeleine. Regular seating was fine, roomier than the Empire Theatre at home and better spaced it seemed. I got nachos at the concessions, which were huge in comparison to the ones at home and a huge diet coke, which I totally needed (and consumed) because of the 20 beer from the night before. We saw the new Indiana Jones movie. It was okay. I have the urge now to revisit the first one. I enjoy Shia always, so it was interesting to see him in this kind of role. They lightened his hair and gave him a James Dean type of do. There were many parts where you completely had to forget everything you know about physics and common sense in order to buy into the story, but I guess that's probably standard on the Indy films.

After the movie we went home and barbecued hamburgers and grilled potatoes. Yummy! Mad and I played games while we waited for dinner to be done. Then we made ice cream in this contraption that fascinated me. It is like a manual ice cream machine, you can take camping or anywhere. We rolled it around the floor playing catch to mix the ingredients. It was ready in an hour and it tasted really good. After Mad went to bed Taia and I sat and talked for a bit, then I read, and then I went to bed, I thought pretty early but it was going on 11. I stayed in bed this morning a little later than normal, which might have been a mistake considering I have to get up really early tomorrow to go to the airport.

Today I'm going to the taping of The Hour at CBC. They changed the time until earlier so now I have to go on my own as Taia can't get off work. But that's okay. It'll still be fun. It's Strombo for godsake! On the website it says the guests on the show tonight are Salman Rushdie and Brian Dennehy, so maybe that's who I'll be seeing. Or one or the other if an interview was pre-taped.

And now I'm tired of typing and starting to think about other things. My next blog will be from NB.

Mood: calm
Drinking: nothing, but coffee earlier
Listening To: birds chirping outside
Hair: greasy from humidity

Closing Time

Chilling in front of the A/C after brunch on a patio at a lovely restaurant. I had the Canadian bacon eggs benny with cajun potatoes, coffee and a mimosa. The eggs benny were not the stuff of legend Stacy and I still cannot speak of without drool puddling in the corners of our mouths, but they were still pretty damn good, and the cajun potatoes were amazing, spicy, but not overpowering, just interesting. I like being on vacation!

The city is hot and sticky. Apparently it hadn't been before I arrived; jacket weather all along they say, but no more. There is still a breeze though. It's not the sweltering "lying naked and still on the floor with fans aimed at my head, my torso, and my feet, sweat trickling down the small of my back, too weak to open my eyes" kind of humidity I remember. That first summer I moved back to New Brunswick my mother and I were at war over windows; whether to leave them open (she) or keep them closed (me). I would lie on the couch in the living room wearing my Ryersonian sweatshirt and black leggings, rolled into a flannel blanket, insisting the wind was cold. She would sit on her rocker by the open window wearing shorts and a t-shirt, her face red with heat as her breasts grew damp. But it wasn't much of a war; her house after all. So I spent that first summer shivering in sweatshirts and jackets while everyone else complained about the humidity. Humidity?! What humidity?

Of course now I've acclimated to NB and I feel the humidity there again. I don't know whether it's grown worse or whether I've just grown less tolerant, but I find it can get pretty bad. As bad as what it is right here, right now.

I cannot get Leonard out of my head. I hear his voice and see his sway. He is sublime.

Mood: cooling
Drinking: nothing at the moment
Listening To: the hum of the a/c
Hair: frizzy from humidity

Still My Man

Last night Taia and I went to the Leonard Cohen concert. What a surreal experience! Truly this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for me and many others, excluding the couple from Oregon who are rumored to be following him around. After last night I'd follow him if I could. Yes, the man is pushing 75, and he seemed a little frail and unsteady at times, but he's still sexy as anything. I'd go home with him, if he'd have me :-) And so would have most of the ladies (and likely some of the gentlemen) in the audience last night. It was a male voice that yelled out, "We love you, Leonard!" during the second half of the show. I had goosebumps when he sang my favourites: Tower of Song, Suzanne, and Hallelujah. But I nearly lost it all together when he recited "A Thousand Kisses Deep." Wow! Overall it was a great show. I expected greatness but it even exceeded my expectations. His voice was perfect. He was so gracious, humble and appreciative, frequently tipping his hat to the performers sharing his stage who played everything from mouth organ and steel guitar to sax and mandolin. His singers were fantastic. I simply loved everything about it, from the elegant dress to the simple lighting in deep purples, greens, blues, reds ... It was a night to remember and cherish forever. Totally worth the bucks. I'm so glad I came.

Before the show Taia and I went for a drink at C'est What, a pub which has been around forever, since the days of Rye High. After the concert we met up with a few of her friends for a drink at an Irish pub around the corner. It was a little loud for my taste, difficult to converse. Then we went to Ferro where Ian was working, had another drink and walked back to their place. Got to see some of Ian's sign and artwork along the way. Some really nice stuff.

True to form I woke every hour throughout the night and finally just gave up around 6:30, got up, made the coffee, showered and got ready for the day. Mad had a sleepover last night (her first!) and we're picking her up around 10 then heading out for brunch with another Rye High Alum I haven't seen since back in the day. Should be fun. This afternoon I'm off to Foch for a BBQ with the Hetheringtons. I've got a bunch of magazines for Isabel, I think she'll like that. I think it'll be nice to see MB and catch up on all the goings on. There are people I'm curious about, curious to know what happened to them, where they ended up. In the haste of the last visit I never got to inquire, so hopefully today will be more relaxed and conducive to this type of reminiscing.

Mood: alert
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: neighborhood waking
Hair: damp but drying

Quick Update

I know I said I wouldn't blog, but hey, I have time, so here I am. I ended up staying up all night Tuesday in preparation to catch the bus to Moncton early Wednesday afternoon. I just had an awful lot to do, workwise, and tripwise, as it was I just made the station in time and left a kitchen with dirty dishes. It started raining around Kouchibouaguac and continued all evening in Moncton. My cab driver to the hotel was young and chatty, originally from Montreal, he reminded me totally of Emmanuel. Yeah, remember him? Ugh! I had to wait in line to check-in for 15 minutes. It wasn't my usual hotel, which kinda sucked, though it was much less expensive. Some sort of government conferences were happening in town and every decent room was booked.

I was not immediately impressed with the quality of my room. The bed was hard, the pillows [only two] were flat, and I desperately wanted some javex to go over the tub [which says an awful lot]. I figured I would have to get up about 4am to go to the airport, so I immediately went to the adjacent restaurant to get some supper and ingest much wine in order to help me get to sleep early. I ordered the chicken breast dinner with rice pilaf and a half litre of red. I drank and wrote while waiting for the entree. The rice and vegetables were marginal but the chicken was quite possibly the driest thing I've ever eaten. Terribly overdone. I ate what I could stomach and then moved on to a dessert of deep fried ice cream with caramel sauce. Given the amount of sauce, I should have opted for strawberry or chocolate, as caramel was a bit too sweet, but other than that, it was good. I polished off my wine and returned to my room.

I called Mom to let her know where I was and turned on the tv. I was just flicking through, really uninterested, when I happened upon Rogers First Local just as a reporter starting talking about the JDRF Walk, and then there were Jules, Abby and Jenn doing their interview. I immediately called Jenn but she was out so I told Jason. There was a long shot of the walk in progress that showed Team Keenan too. Kinda cool.

So I slept pretty well, got up at 4 feeling rested and refreshed, and went to put on the coffee while I showered. Nothing could have prepared me for the scuzzy coffee maker. I nearly puked. It kinda looked like the person before me had in fact puked in the filter holder. Terrible! I went straight to the comment card on the desk and wrote a nasty note about cleaning the damn room and the coffee maker in particular. You can imagine how cranky one might be at 4am without coffee.

So I showered quickly trying not to think about the state of the tub and got the hell out of there, leaving my room by 4:35 to check out. I had pre-booked a cab and off we went to the airport, stopping at tim hortons on the way to get coffee, which i immediately had to toss at the airport without so much as a sip in order to get through security. My cab driver pissed me off, taking the long way to the airport to get a bigger fare, then rounding up on the dollar.

I was concerned about security because there are so many rules and the staff are quite serious about them, but I had done everything all right and other than wearing a belt with metal rivets that I probably should have taken off, it went smoothly. The coffee shop was open so I got a coffee and a juice and waited to board. The flight was fabulous. I forgot how beautiful the world is at 41,000 feet and 460 mph. Pearson was easily navigated and I got a nice airport limo with a good driver. Traffic was pretty good, so I arrived at Taia and Ian's pretty early, before she even went to work. I spent most of the day working on bnm stuff that I needed to finish up. In the afternoon I took a brief nap because I was dead tired.

Last night we went out to dinner to a lovely restaurant in the Kensington Market area. Needless to say last night's chicken breast dinner was fantabulous! Not at all dry. I realized I'd never been to Kensington Market before, which was odd, so we looked around a little. Some really interesting arts and crafts and things happening there. Afterward, Taia and I watched an old movie. I think I dozed off a couple of times, lol, and then I went to bed and fell asleep during a wonderful thunderstorm. Yes, I actually like them here, because there's so much for the lightning to strike besides me :-) I slept late and feel great. Now, I'm going out exploring and tonight is the concert.

Now you're up to date!

Mood: joyful
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: birds chirping
Hair: greasy but soon to be washed

Here Comes the Flood

I flipped my calendar in the kitchen to June. This month the bunny says "You go girl. And don't come back." Lovely! And timely! Cracks me up.

This is likely my last post for at least a week. I'm heading to Moncton tomorrow, Toronto the day after that. With luck I'll be back early Tuesday afternoon. With no luck it'll be Wednesday afternoon. I will be updating my status via Twitter though. You can follow my escapades on my twitter profile page or get your own Twitter account and follow me proper with updates to your phone or your browser. I'm going to be able to do these updates because today I finally broke down and got a cell phone. I know! I've been such a hold out and I honestly do not like the idea of being accessible all the time but it was time I guess. The idea of traveling alone without a phone was a little daunting. You know, just in case something happens, pay phones rarely exist anymore. So I guess I'm a little less eccentric today than I was yesterday.

I'm really excited to go now. I've been getting emails and phone calls from friends, confirming plans, and it's going to be great! All good stuff! I am still not packed, have laundry to do, have to figure out what I'm taking, have to tidy up my kitchen, take out the garbage, finish some very important bnm work, and much more. It's a lot and it's late. The bus leaves for Moncton at 2:15 tomorrow afternoon. I'll have to go to the station around 1:30 so I have about 13 and a half hours left and that's it. Need to shift into high gear now. I think I'm developing an addiction to the SoBe Adrenaline Rush drinks. On Sunday I tried a blue can for the first time. I've never had a Red Bull or anything along these lines. I drink a fair bit of coffee and tea, but no pop or anything carbonated, nothing else with caffeine. But I wanted a little jolt for the walk and something cool and refreshing, so I gave it a try. Tonight I went out to the store and got another couple cans. I love the taste, and it does give you a boost, plus at only 20 calories it's a pretty good deal.

Today I got over 10,000 steps! Yay me! 4527 aerobic or 43 minutes, almost 4 miles. My step count should be high on the trip, lots of walking to be done around airports and in malls and Toronto is a place where you walk. Last time Stacy and I walked so much we had blisters on the soles of our feet. Very painful blisters! That shouldn't happen this time. Still, there will be much stepping just to get to the places I'm going.

Next weekend is my birthday. There had been talks of a party, but I was getting sleepy just thinking about it on the heels of the trip, so I've opted instead to have a girl's night at the movies. Hopefully Sex and the City will still be playing and I will continue to successfully avoid any spoilers. The movie, a couple of cocktails, girl talk, and call it an early night. Of course, you are all invited! Details to be confirmed upon my return. I've been watching the show from the first season. I'm on Season 3 now I think, Carrie is dating Aidan. I wanted to see all of them again before I saw the movie, but it's probably not going to happen. On the weekend, up home, Cosmo TV was running a marathon of the final season, so I caught the last 4 or 5 episodes including the series finale. That was good. When I first started watching the show I identified most with Samantha, then I slowly turned into Miranda and now it seems I've evolved into a full-blown Carrie. I should write a sex column. I'm definitely getting lots of fodder from the 30something dating scene in Miramichi!

And now I've blathered on long enough. Have a great week! Don't forget to follow my trip on Twitter.

Mood: psyched
Drinking: irish breakfast tea
Listening To: so long marianne, leonard cohen
Hair: getting some razor love maybe before I embark