Now What?

Oopsie...I missed some things

2011-12-28T20:36:00.001-05:00

Have I missed several major events worth blogging about in my absence? Yes. Can I offer a valid explanation? Not really. Life just sort of got in the way for a while.

How have you been?

Me? I've been busy. Since you last read me, I've been back to Vancouver for a much needed visit in October; I've been to Toronto for training and a much needed visit with several friends; I've been diagnosed with Hypoglycemia after an unfortunate mishap at work; Babe's been diagnosed Celiac as an indirect result of my unfortunate mishap at work; and I've experienced my first xmas in another language.

In between all of this stuff, the world has continued to shock, amaze, amuse, delight, terrify, and haunt me.

In October, suffering from a tear-inducing lack of hugs from my parents, I finally took a leap and booked expensive "cheap" round trip flights for Etienne and myself to Vancouver. As it was his first time going anywhere west of Niagara Falls, I tried to take it easy on him and still show him some of the things about Vancouver worth missing. We stayed downtown, and we went across the border to Bellingham to shop; we took the seabus to North Vancouver and wandered around the Lonsdale Quay; we took the Skytrain to Metrotown; we wandered through Gastown and he enjoyed the furniture stores there; and we visited with mum and dad and the dog. He met some of my Vancouver friends, and we got the dreaded meeting with Rod over with. Overall, it was a brief, but much needed trip home. He like Vancouver instantly, and should we move there, he's already got neighbourhoods picked out!

In November, I went to Toronto to be trained as a Speaker/Ambassador for Dying with Dignity. It was an emotional and informative day, as we were required to tell a 5 minute story about ourselves and our experiences with choice in dying. You can imagine what you might feel like after 15 people tell their stories...but it was necessary. While I was doing that, Etienne enjoyed himself by going to the Art Gallery of Ontario and the Hockey Hall of Fame. During that trip, he met some more MPPers who are now transplanted to Toronto, as well as my dear friends Olaf and Rick. The friends conspired to show us (me) a good time by arranging for us to attend a Strip Spelling Bee. Yes, you read that right. Strip Spelling Bee. I also had the opportunity to introduce Etienne to Gail
who is one of the most incredible people I've ever had the privilege of meeting. So Toronto was a quick trip, but packed with good times.

Now, you're probably curious about the medical issues I've mentioned. Well, it's a long story, but I'll try to give you the cliffnotes. It was just a few days after the last blog post in September. I was sitting (important!) at my desk, working away on nothing stressful, when I suddenly felt very dizzy. You tend not to get dizzy when sitting, so I knew something was wrong. My pulse sped up, and I started to get sweaty. I was afraid it was another anxiety attack, but for one, I wasn't stressed, and for two, this was unlike my prior experiences. I emailed Etienne downstairs and told him I was in distress. With his help, I got down on the floor in case I did faint, and from there, things went down hill fast. An ambulance was called, I was given glucose orally, and taken to the hospital in Hull for what turned out to be an 8 hour wait without seeing a doctor. We left and came home on the understanding that I would go to the clinic in the morning. At this point, "Hypoglycemia" had been tossed around (in French) enough for me to get an idea of what the nurse and paramedics were thinking. Etienne had been feeling "off" for months, so he decided to come with me to the clinic and get checked out. We set off and when we came out from the exam rooms, we each had a sheet ordering blood tests: a two-hour glucose test for me, and for him...well, it would be quicker to list the things NOT checked off for them to test in him. The doctor he saw indicated that he thought Etienne might have Celiac's Disease.

Since my test required a 12 hour fast, I had to wait yet another day to go, so very early in the morning, I made my way to the lab, sucked down a bottle of flat orange soda-like stuff, and sat down to wait. For the first hour, I was fine. I read, and I watched people come and go. But into the second hour, I started to feel tired. Then I felt drunk. Finally I felt sick. By that time, I didn't need a blood test to figure it out: I am hypoglycemic. Not a huge surprise to me; my gramma had Type 2 Diabetes for the last 13 year of her life, and daddy was diagnosed with Type 2 as well in his 50s. It was inevitable, really. Aboriginals have a higher likelihood of developing Diabetes. When the doctor did get the results, he confirmed it. He called it "Pre-diabetic." I can guess at it, but I think what that means is that I'm getting blood sugar, but insulin is eating it up pretty fast. Etienne's test took longer to come back, but they confirmed that he did in fact have Celiac's Disease, though the results seemed to indicate that it wasn't a particularly bad case.

Since then, we've both had to make serious adjustments to our lifestyle. For me, I've had to try my best to shift to five smaller meals a day and snacking in between (the results have been fair...I need to see a dietician to get a better idea of what I'm supposed to be doing); but poor Etienne's had a worse go of it. For one thing, he's a vegetarian. So he can't exactly start chowing down more meat to replace the loss of many gluten products. He's also had to experiment with different gluten-free foods to try to find what works best. But the hardest part was giving up the beer. He's found some gluten-free beer-like beverages which he's okay with, but I can tell he misses a good Guinness. So there's that sob story. We're doing better, though I have the occasional setback when my blood sugar will drop in a matter of minutes unexpectedly. I haven't gotten used to how quickly it can happen.

Over the xmas weekend, we went to Montreal to be with Etienne's family. His brother moved to North American this summer, and his sister and her fiancee are here for a school year, so his mother decided to come over for the holidays. They are aware that I comprehend some French, but I can't speak it, so they are patient with me. But there are members of the extended family who have no patience with me, so it was awkward at times. I felt like I was an intruder, as though I didn't belong there, like I should not be a part of Etienne's life. I wouldn't say there was hostility at my being an anglophone, but I will say that very little effort was made to engage me by those in the family who are new to me. It made me miss xmas with my family all the more, because there I would be comfortable and welcomed. Next year, my French should be improved, but I don't think I'll look back on this xmas season as a fond one.

So there is the quick (long) version of important events that have occurred since September 24th. Next time, I'll try to have my groove back, since there is much in the world and my life worth commenting on.

Slowly put down the Facebook, and back away...

2011-09-24T10:21:00.001-04:00

There comes a time when people have had enough. For some, the build-up is gradual, starting out as accepting, tolerant, even happy about change, but then becoming more disillusioned with the pace and/or type of change. For others, the reaction is almost instantaneous, and they pull the rip cord early, not wanting to be a part of what follows. Friends...after 5+ years together, I am bugging out on Facebook.

It's been great finding some old friends, keeping up with new ones, and it's been awkward watching events unfold in the lives of some. But it's not new anymore, and people don't have the same enthusiasm that they once did. I can't think of the last time I was invited to an event sent out by friends that *wasn't* a craft fair, promotional nightclub party, or social justice event. I don't need to get into how I feel about invites to Farmville or Bejeweled. And I'm tired of being told by companies to "Like" something or join them on Facebook for special deals.

People are just making shit up, forming groups, and others are joining because they are amused by the name, such as this group:

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." — Marilyn Monroe

People don't interact here. They just like the page title.

Facebook has undergone likely dozens of iterations in the last five years that I've been on it (to say nothing of those who have been on since 2004), and it seems that the changes they are constantly making are creating a type of superficial social interaction at best. "So-and-so likes Lamp." And then we all as friends decide...do we "like" their post? Do we comment, "LOL, nice"? And that's what qualifies as "keeping up with friends" in the Facebook universe?

Does anyone remember when you actually had to write a status update, and people wrote back on your wall? How often these days do we even visit the walls of our friends? We just see what goes on in our feeds.

With the latest round of updates that Facebook has done, we know have a little sidebar telling us what our friends are doing, right beside the live feed which tells us what our friends have been doing. We have reached a stage where we have a Facebook on our Facebook page.

The dozens of iterations have me thinking that the nice people at Facebook have short attention spans, and they seem intent on creating a space that encourages it as well. I liked some of the early changes, but lately, it's just become such a big drama. Privacy this, security that, picture-viewers, blah blah blah...

I'm taking my business to Twitter.

The Eulogy

2011-09-23T00:20:00.000-04:00

As you know, I'm always trying to find myself; I lose myself in the damnedest places...by the water's edge...a deep, personal experience...in music...Ottawa. I know the way I do things doesn't make sense to a lot of people, which has led me to question how I appear to others, but when I tried to formulate an answer, I either despaired of the possible results, or I experienced confusion.

One night, in yet another self-indulgent effort to sort this out, I began to draft something that some might find...well...creepy, depressing, or ghoulish. I began to draft my own eulogy. My mother would berate me if she knew, as if somehow superstition will overcome reality, and I'll actually bring about my death by tempting it with end of life considerations. Anyway, minus the redacted bits to protect the identity of some people named, here is the draft product. No doubt, it will be an evergreen exercise that will only end when I do...

It isannounced with a mix of emotions that Fancy Christine Poitras has passedaway. Before passing, she took some timeto reflect and write this eulogy, because she loved two things: irony, andhaving the last word. Hard to know, butloving and loyal towards those who managed the task, Fancy will be rememberedfor her frankness, love of the Detroit Red Wings, and pride in heraccomplishments.

Fancy wasborn on ____________, which would play a very significant role in her lifeto come. She was the youngest child of ____ and _______ Poitras, and the baby sister of _________________, _____________, and ___________. Meant to beborn on her father’s birthday, Fancy took her time instead, putting the world on notice that shemarched to her own beat, did things in her own time, and usually on her ownterms. Her mother kindly described heras ‘determined.’

It tookmany years for Fancy to express that pride in herself and her life; she wasunsure of herself growing up, and lacked confidence, which was a stumblingblock for her in important aspects of her life. She went to three colleges and universities, and was registered in noless than 6 majors or programs before she found enough confidence to pursue herpassion in social sciences. Shegraduated from the University of Alberta in 2005 with a Bachelor of Arts degree inPolitical Science. Not satisfied with that, she quickly moved on to Vancouver, where she enrolled in school again. In 2007, she completed a Post-baccalaureate diploma in Social Policy Issues at Simon Fraser University, with an eye on a bigger goal; she applied and was accepted to the Master's of Public Policy program at Simon Fraser University in 2008, and completed her degree in 2010. Allof these accomplishments would not have been possible if not for her growth inconfidence…she was finally comfortable in her skin.

Fancy had aspecial gift for finding herself in unusual situations and strange positions;all too often, life had a way of happening to her. Ever the trooper, she adapted to hercircumstances, though not without substantial whining and complainingbeforehand. It was this knack for theunusual that taught her to grow up and take everything as a lesson. For instance, she learned that it was a badidea to go running downhill, directly into an oncoming bike going downhill…shenever again run down into ditches when there was oncoming traffic, but she wasable to proudly announce to anyone she met that she was likely the only personthey had ever met who had been run over by a bicycle.

That knackfor letting life happen to her that led her to Rodney, her first husband. They met in 1998 when she moved into a roomon Main Henday, a residence tower at the University of Alberta. They remained friends until they began datingin 1999, and eventually married in 2008. They divorced in 2010, but remained supportive, caring friends until death. At the same time as the divorce,Fancy moved to Ottawato embark on her career in Policy Analysis, where she began a relationship with Etienne shortly after her arrival. ...

Fancy wasconflicted, because she spent too much time thinking about everything, butthere were some immutable truths which she stood by for life: family,first. She loved her family deeply, andwas very close to her mother, _______, and spoiled by her loving father, ____. ...

In the end she finally concluded that there was something about her that wasnever meant to be understood, just loved.

So...*awkward silence*

Karen O'Keefe: Comedienne-at-Large*

2011-08-17T21:46:00.003-04:00

Sorry for the pun, Karen, I could not help myself.

So, I have this friend, Karen. She and I were friends in high school, and she's one of the few people from my grad class that I still keep in touch with (and have more interaction than just being friends on facebook). Over the years, I've watched Karen O'Keefe evolve: I've known her as a stand-out teenager who just did things her own way; I've known her to be a talented graphic designer; and I've "seen" (without ever having any of her shows) develop into an amateur comedienne on the road in Alberta.

Now it seems that she's gone all "Mary Tyler Moore" on the world. She moved there this summer to turn pro at her new profession; she is still doing comedy shows, but now she's jumping headlong into the acting sandbox! So, if you know of anyone in the Toronto area who is searching for the next big talent, look this lady up!

*Note: Karen is certainly talented, and as an added bonus, she is quite distinctive and stands out in a crowd...literally; Karen is 6 feet tall.

People tell me I'm smart and I believe them...

2011-07-29T11:08:00.002-04:00

Warning: Hubris ahead. Horrible, horrible hubris. We're talking pride...arrogance...some other adjective with the same meaning (too lazy to look one up)...awful, sinful, prideful hubrisiness.

I've got a secret.

Ready?

I'll wait...

*Muzak plays, I'm sitting here with a frozen smile on my face*

Okay. Here goes...

I'm smart.

Or so ~~I'm told~~ I hear.

Okay, I'll cut out the buffoonery now; this post is really a plea to those who know me, love me, adore me, etc...please stop overselling me.

I know, I know, what a horrible problem to have...people have confidence in me, and they go about telling other people that I'm smart, and then I have these puzzling expectations to live up to. Look, the thing is, it's bad enough when I fail to live up to these expectations (Really, Lance? 'super smart?'), but it's worse because if I fail to live up to description, it makes the person who sold me as smart look like a bad judge of character.

***

This whole post, as you might be able to tell, is an inside joke, and it's dedicated to someone who "just happened to be there at a 'You-had-to-be-there'" moment; I've been thinking about you lately because I was cleaning out some things and pulled out the magic shoes. Hopefully some little girl from a reserve that was evacuated due to forest fires is playing in those shoes right now, and even though she'll never understand what I went through to earn those shoes, you and I know :) Be well, friend.

Life and the Movies

2011-06-26T09:28:00.003-04:00

Would Melvin Udall and Carole the Waitress survive in real life? For those of you who have seen the famous compliment scene in 'As Good As It Gets', starring Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt, and Greg Kinnear, you likely enjoy that moment when Jack, soul as beared as it could be for his character, gives Helen's upset Carol the compliment of a lifetime after a real gaffe...

Melvin Udall: I don’t get this place. They make me buy a new outfit, and they let you in in a house dress. I don’t get it. [Carol gets up, upset] What? What, no wait, why? Where you going? Why? I mean, I…uh. I didn’t mean it that way, I mean…you gotta sit down. You can
still give me the dirty look, just sit down and give it to me.

Carol Connelly: Pay me a compliment, Melvin. I need one. Quick. You have no idea how much what you just said hurt my feelings.

Melvin Udall: The monominute somebody gets that you need them they threaten to go away. Never fails.

Carol Connelly: That's not compliment, Melvin...That's just trying to sound smart so I feel stupid... A compliment is something nice about somebody else...Now or never.

Melvin Udall: Okay.

Carol Connelly: [reluctantly sits] And mean it...

Melvin Udall: Can we order first? [shouting at a waiter at another table] Two crab dinners and pitcher of cold beer. [to Carol] Uh, baked or fries?

Carol Connelly: [embarrassed, whispers] Fries. [again, louder] Fries.

Melvin Udall: [calling to the waiter] One baked -- one fried.

Startled Waiter: [shouting back] I'll tell your waiter.

Melvin Udall: Okay, now...I got a really great compliment for you, and it's true.

Carol Connelly: I'm so afraid you're about to say something awful.

Melvin Udall: Don't be pessimistic, it's not your style. Okay, here I go: clearly, a mistake. I got this, what - ailment? My doctor, a shrink that I used to go to all the time, he says that in fifty or sixty percent of the cases, a pill really helps. I *hate* pills; very dangerous thing, pills. Hate. I'm using the word "hate" here, about pills. Hate. My compliment is, that night when you came over and told me that you would never...uh, alright, you were there, you know what you said. Well, my compliment to you is, the next morning, I started taking the pills.

Carol Connelly: I don't quite get how that's a compliment for me.

Melvin Udall: You make me want to be a better man.

Carol Connelly: [stunned]...That's maybe the best compliment of my life.

Melvin Udall: Well, maybe I overshot a little, because I was aiming at just enough to keep you from walking out.

And of course, after this, the moment goes downhill, first to awkward, then to disaster as Melvin says something that upsets Carol so much, she storms out. Some strange events happen, including a homeless gay artist, some nude sketches, an odd couple situation, and a surreal make-up scene that leads to them wandering the streets of New York at 4:30 am, deciding to give it a try, despite the challenges his personality (and to a lesser extent, his personality disorder) present.

After the couple walk into a bakery that is just opening for the day, I'm left to wonder...what they survive in real life? Do they keep going, accepting the implications of his personality and his disorder as being as good as it gets? Or does another serious gaffe on his part (or her part...could happen) somewhere down the road push that relationship over the edge? I'm curious.

I'm also curious about one other thing...assuming this relationship can go the distance...how do you ever beat a compliment like that if you have to?

The next chapter...

2011-06-15T16:44:00.002-04:00

So, I had a heart-fluttering, butterfly-tummied moment this afternoon:

Next week, when I get paid, I'm registering to write the Graduate Record Examine, more commonly known as the GRE. Why? Because it seems that every graduate school in the US requires it if you are not from the US (or in many cases, even if you are!) as part of the admissions requirements.

And why am I writing the GRE which is so necessary for grad schools in the US? Because I've given serious, thoughtful consideration to a crazy idea...

A Ph.D.

At Harvard.

"OMG, Fancy, are you an idiot?"

Well, I hardly think I have to dignify that question with a response to those of you still wandering in and out of my blog for the last 5 years. Duh! The answer is obviously YES. But, I'm a special brand of idiot...the kind willing to take the risk in case it works out.

Remember back in 2005, when I foolishly babbled on about the possibility of being good enough for grad school? Once I got over my childish fears of rejection, I realized that I was good enough for grad school, and there was no turning back! I was so set on this goal, I picked only one school, uprooted my entire life (and Rod's while I was at it), and moved to Vancouver. I faltered only slightly over the summer of 2006, but then I found the solution to my problems (a maddening lack of references and a GPA a touch under 3.0): the Post-Baccalaureate Diploma in Social Policy Issues at Simon Fraser University. I entered in January 2007 and finished in December 2007 with a 3.77 GPA, excellent references, and a semester on the Honour Roll. Me...the one who never believed I was good enough.

I was. I got into the only program I applied to, the Master's of Public Policy at SFU, and I succeeded.

So why is it so crazy to think I could pull this off? Granted, it's Harvard; I hear all the time about top-tier candidates not making the cut. Which is why I'm not totally stupid...I'm also looking at three other excellent programs at excellent schools. Harvard is a stretch, but like others who have taken a chance on me, they wouldn't be disappointed. Let's put it this way...Harvard University is the vanity choice: I make the cut, wow, that's...strange, but cool; I don't...well, hey, it won't be for a lack of Trying.

Who knows?

Crisis of the self...averted

2011-06-01T16:44:00.000-04:00

I've been largely adrift lately. I go to work, albeit to a better job than I had up until 2 months ago, I go home, maybe do some household chores, and find ways to occupy myself and/or Etienne. And I do all of this knowing I want more for my life.

Recently, Etienne had a chance to think about his situation based on something I had said in conversation, and he realized he is where he wants to be right now. Not Ottawa, he doesn't *want* to be here; but in terms of his current job/career, he's on the right track and he likes what he does, and I envy that to some extent.

The natives are restless...literally. Once again, I find myself in the position of looking to my future, knowing it isn't what others expect it to be, and struggling to find the right way to make the changes needed in order to turn my future into my present. If this 'existential crisis' I'm having sounds familiar, it's because you've seen it before, spelled out in this blog; each instance led to some large step in life (new cities, new jobs, returns to school...the typical routes) that have each moved me to where I am now, so I know I'm on the right path. Unlike so many others though, I haven't yet reached my goals, and it can be so frustrating when other people who have judge me foolish for wanting to walk away from the safety and security of public service in order to reach my finish line.

I'm doing my best to find my way, but recently I've faced opposition that made me feel less than my worth; well-meaning people in my life have...well, scolded me or chided me about how foolish it is to walk away from government. They don't (or won't) understand that what drives me isn't the same thing that drives them. No matter how many times or ways I've tried to explain that I just don't do things the way most people do, that I've always marched to the beat of my own drummer, the message doesn't reach them.

In a moment of true sorrow and anguish, as I felt like giving up, I reached out to Rod. Besides my mother, no one left alive on this planet knows me so well, and in some ways, he knows me best.

Ever the very best of friends, he responded to my troubles with this...

"Well, I think for the majority of the populace, a "good" public service job is the epitome of a safe, secure career path. It's very organized and structured in terms of advancement and reward. You put in the time, you are guaranteed the reward - more money and more vacation time. But it isn't necessarily the most fulfilling, dynamic or exciting work. And you my friend are not 'The Constant Gardener', but rather his wife. You enjoy the rewards from a steady job, but you need more from life than steadiness."

So thank you, Rod. Thank you.

One year later

2011-04-29T17:05:00.002-04:00

On April 29, 2010, a very exhausted, hungry, sleep-deprived Fancy rolled into Ottawa in a U-Haul containing almost all of her belongings (minus the Kitties), and her equally exhausted, hungry and sleep-deprived Daddy. It was the end of a marathon that had begun at 9 am on Monday, April 26th at the corner of Wilson and Grange in Burnaby. In what was likely the maddest dash across the country, Papa Bear and I tore across the mountains in one day, the prairies the next; day three was consumed by Northern Ontario Canadian Shield country, and finally on day four, we had a relatively light 10 hours from Sault Ste. Marie to my new 'home,' Ottawa.

One year later, I'm not even living in the same apartment I moved into when I arrived. I'm not working at the job I raced across the country to take. I'm not even working my way through the available fishies online.

Ottawa is nothing, if not full of surprises. I am not where I thought I would be a year ago.

Fort...Lawderdaaale

2011-04-23T12:31:00.002-04:00

We're back and sunburned in all the right places!

Finally, after 6 years of going pretty non-stop, I went on my first vacation. The last one was to Cancun in February 2005, so I nearly forgot how to be on vacation...I started to get confused about all the options for doing things, forgetting in the process that I'm not supposed to be stressing about that stuff!

Etienne and I settled on Fort Lauderdale for 5 days; short enough not to impact our vacation days at work (since one of the days was Good Friday, a statutory holiday for the Federal government, so we didn't have to take that day), but long enough to have more than just that "we've arrived and now we're leaving" feeling. Fort Lauderdale happened because it was cheap and easy to do in light of the timing. We'd actually decided on Costa Rica, but timing didn't work out in terms of deals and work schedules, and we didn't want to do it in a hurry or on the cheap...not for my first vacation in 6 years. If you happen to be in the neighbourhood and want a few tips...

The Westin Fort Lauderdale Beach Resort and Spa: I recommend it; it's reasonably priced, has great amenities, including a skywalk right to the beach, and a company on hand to rent chairs and umbrellas, and on the oceanfront side...the view is glorious. The staff is hit or miss, but who cares as long as you get what you want or need.

Spazio: an Italian restaurant on the beach strip, this place has decent food, and a fairly decent wine selection, but our server was incredibly useless. We watched as other tables were waited on by more attentive staff, while I toiled in hunger and travel fatigue, waiting 20 minutes for just a daiquiri.

Coconuts: a seafood restaurant right on the water (it's not on the strip, but rather off of it on one of the canals), it had great service, great food (I had a half chicken, Etienne had...a whole lot of vegetarian-friendly foods thrown on to one plate), great views...it simply lived up to its great reputation.

Casablanca Cafe: Another "seafood-based" restaurant, it's a favourite of the locals. The service was great, the food was great (I had a giant New York strip and a wicked chocolate mousse, he had a pasta dish), it's a good location, and just a cool vibe.

Via Luna: Another Italian restaurant, located in the Ritz-Carlton Hotel on the strip, it's slightly more upscale, but the service was excellent and very accommodating. I had the spaghetti pomodoro with the best meatball I've ever had, and Etienne was prepared to order a risotto and scallops dish, until the waitstaff suggested he could take the mushroom risotto side dish and have it made into an entree. And because our waitress thought our order took so long (which I don't think it did), she gave us this sublime hazelnut-chocolate mousse cake on the house. I most highly recommend this restaurant if you're ever in Fort Lauderdale.

Other than all of the food finds, Etienne and I kept things fairly basic: a little shopping, some swimming in the ocean, and *lots* of sun. We went out and got hideously burned on our first full day there, but even now as I sit on my couch in my apartment, looking out over a gloomy, cold spring day in Ottawa, with the burn swelling going down, Etienne and I are turning a lovely shade of gold. Normally a ghostly (sometimes even greenish) pallor, we look healthy for a change!

We spent a lot of time discussing the travel situation, and we both agree that there are lots of places we want to go. Plans are discussed, and I hope that in the coming year, I have more exciting places to blog about!

The Trouble de Travail

2011-04-17T10:02:00.002-04:00

I'm bound in the next several months to start French training in an effort to become bilingual, and in this, I'm eagerly supported by my new manager in my new job. So far, I've just been easing in with some reading, and lots of watching the internet for updates on the problems in Japan, election platform updates and promises, and any other potential news items that would impact the program I'm working on. And of course, this being an election cycle, there's not a whole lot else I can do. The political government is dissolved, leaving the bureaucracy to simply manage until a new government is elected and we re-start the process of policy and program changes. Until then, no new programs, initiatives, decisions, policies, etc. During this time, the only department that sees some movement is foreign affairs, and even then, it's only enough to signal that Canada is still a part of whatever is going on.

As I look back on the time I spent at INAC, and I try to sort out what I would have been doing over there during the election cycle (and my really strong hunch says "Nothing. Like always."), I'm sort of excited; yes, it sounds like I'm not doing a whole lot at HRSDC either, but I know that once the election is over, I'll actually be given tasks that are meaningful by a manager and director who appear to trust I'm competent and capable of doing them. I'm finally optimistic about working in the federal public service.

If I'm concerned about anything, it's that my work habits have become pretty slack because of the wasted time at INAC. Left to my own devices, I was creative in how to waste time (redecorate Diana's office while she's away? Sure!), and I fell into a pattern of playing on the internet and shuffling papers. I'm afraid I'm easily distractable now, and I seriously need to kick my butt back into shape and re-learn good working habits.

Still, if that's my biggest trouble with work...I'm starting to count myself quite lucky.

On Election Silence (or...Screaming in the Inside!)

2011-04-08T17:41:00.004-04:00

I'll be honest, I've been disengaging from the electoral process in the past because I've been unable to handle the Conservative Party of Canada under Stephen Harper. This is no secret, I've blogged about it before, but now I need to be careful, and formally disclaim that my views are that of a private citizen, and they are not implicated in my public role. My wider goal of helping Canadians motivates me to do the best job possible to meet that goal, regardless of what party forms the government. I also must disclaim that I will not actively and/or openly declare support or campaign for a candidate or party here, because this is a public blog, open to all. I own my writings, and I accept the consequences.

This election has re-ignited a fading passion for politics, so what I do want to say, and what I feel I'm well within the confines of the Public Service Employment Act in saying is that I want you, if you are eligible, to VOTE. Find out what you can about the parties and their platforms; it takes just a few minutes to find media reports that compare the platforms on key issues and see which candidate or party best represents your views and needs. On May 2nd, cast your vote!

I know it seems fatiguing, yet another election in such a short time span, but let's remember that this is democracy that citizens in other countries hear about and, in some cases, long for. Your right to cast a ballot for the candidate or party of your choosing is not a privilege, it's a Right. You have the right to have a say in the priorities, policies and programs of this country, and that is so precious.

You are fortunate. I am fortunate. And on May 2nd, I will be casting a ballot, if for no other (possibly more noble) reason, so that I have the unquestionable, legitmate right to complain about the outcome :)

11 Days...Insert Facebook Status Update Here

2011-03-21T10:49:00.002-04:00

I'm ever mindful of the calendar these days...

11 days from now is my last day at INAC.

Last month, I accepted a deployment at HRSDC; it's basically the same nature as my current job, but hopefully without the same issues that have motivated me to leave INAC.

The Code of Ethics and Values, I'm sure, somehow prevents me from talking a lot about my job, my files, etc. But I think it's fair to say that being a First Nations individual working at INAC has caused an incredible tension within myself. It's no secret that I do not support the current Federal government, but I've worked hard on my files because it is about the principle of supporting First Nations. This tension has upset me at times, and made things difficult for me at other times, but it isn't the tension of being First Nations that is driving me out; I can and do bear with it. No, it's an organizational issue. It became clear that there would be few opportunities to positively impact my career, so I made the decision to find a place where opportunities were more readily available. In the meantime, I've been occupied by extricating myself from the files I've accumulated over the last 10 months, and mentally preparing myself for the change to come.

In all other respects, life continues on. We're more settled into our new place, and a few disagreements about the decor aside, I think Etienne and I are easing into a one-year commitment to share living space. He's taken to the cats like bees to honey, and vice versa. Max and Purrball have taken to the new place like champs...lots of space means the run-ins are fewer and farther between, which has greatly reduced Max's need to establish dominance by pissing all over.

And so life continues on as a quick succession of busy nothings.

'twas the night before moving day...

2011-02-24T20:35:00.004-05:00

...and all through the house,
all the creatures were stirring,
even the cats' toy mouse.

This afternoon the property manager for my current building and the one we're moving in to (manager is one and the same for both) called to let me know that the other tenants have moved out of the place, so after the painters get in tomorrow morning, we get the keys and can start moving in this weekend!

I'm...I'd say about...3/4 packed, but I haven't even started cleaning yet. This weekend I was going to finish the packing and start the cleaning because we have to be out of our places on Monday. Well, with being able to get into the new place as of tomorrow evening, I guess I can start moving the massive, encroaching piles of boxes over slowly tomorrow and Saturday, but that means that my night off tonight is shot! Instead of just taking it easy and doing some light work, I've been going like a bat out of hell, cleaning and packing. We're moving Etienne, and the large, heavier furniture pieces in on Sunday, and then I'll have Monday morning to clean the old place, and we'll be out before noon.

You know, it's crazy. I moved in on May 1st, and I'll be out on February 28th. Not even a year. Don't get me wrong, this move is a good thing, but I can't help thinking how much I'll miss my cozy little quarters. I know I've only been here a relatively short time, but a lot of things have happened in this little apartment, and I've had some truly meaningful moments here. Relationships started here, and ended here. The cats have found little corners in my little corner apartment and made them their own; Purrball preferred either the window ledge or hiding between the wall and the back of the couch, while Max staked out a spot on the bedroom floor, tucked under a small table, between a chair and the bureau, because it was small, dark, and right beside a heater. We've all made this little place a home. Ah, nostalgia.

Living alone has taught me that I'm quite capable of staying on top of the dishes, but that I still (and clearly always will) suck at keeping my clothes in their places. I'm terrible about cleaning the bathroom, but my hardwood floors were always swept. I've learned that I will sleep through nearly anything, including Etienne coming in at ungawdly early hours of the night and waking me up...actually that's a problem...not the waking up part, the fact that I'm sleeping through someone coming into my apartment. But a few simple security precautions would have taken care of that. All in all, I've mostly learned how to be a big girl in my little apartment. This was my first real stab at living alone, and the cats and I came through mostly to the good. But Life has new adventures in store.

It turns out that Fate has a sense of irony; Etienne and I "lived" together for nearly a month, two summers ago when I was pushed out of the hippie hellhole on Gladstone by bedbugs, and he very kindly and sympathetically took me in. At the time, he was philosophical and called it practice for when he eventually would live with someone...neither of us imagined at the time that it was practice for *us* to live together.

Let's see...damn, there's still plenty of time left tonight to keep working...*sigh*

Back to work.

*********************************************

Post Script -

Okay, now I'm genuinely puzzled...how is it possible that I may have boxes left over? I moved out here with every box stuffed full...and I did a really efficient job of packing the boxes when I moved from Vancouver...and I've actually acquired more stuff since the move...and I haven't given away enough stuff to cancel out the new stuff...is my apartment defying physics?

Marcello

2011-02-13T20:21:00.002-05:00

Several years ago, I wrote about how I never had a Jake Ryan, but some time after that, I described how I was lucky enough to have a Lloyd Dobler in my life. It's probably for the best that I missed out on the Jake, because it gave me the chance to open my eyes and find the Lloyd, which is something I'll always look back on fondly.

Something else I am going to look back on fondly is finding my Marcello. For those of you who haven't seen Under the Tuscan Sun, the protagonist, Frances, has a chance meeting with a handsome stranger, the dashing Marcello, and she embarks on a brief affair with him, but circumstances mean the affair can't last.

Around this time last year, Rod and I had decided to end the marriage, and during his absences for work, I found myself struggling with the idea of moving on. I was back out on the dating scene after a 13 year absence, and I was not sure what would come of it. I had already committed to the job and the move to Ottawa in May, so I knew I couldn't commit to anything long term in Vancouver, but still...if I was going to embrace the art of dating (including the inevitable rejection), I knew I had to get out and try it. Vancouver was going to be my chance to practice up before going to Ottawa to try in earnest.

A lot of "nevers" made an appearance in my life at that point, and a chance sighting on a train late at night, a personal ad (not as bad as it sounds), and a few emails later, I began a brief affair with my Marcello. It was only about three weeks, but my Marcello, besides being physically attractive, kind, and clearly willing to take a leap of faith, gave me chance to put some fears to rest and let go. He was the person I needed at that point in my life, and I'll always love that about him.

Thank you, my Marcello. Thank you.

Terror in Egypt

2011-02-02T22:42:00.002-05:00

I've been glued to coverage of the protests in Egypt since they started, and it's been largely a roller coaster of emotions, from a swell of support for protesters to disbelief at the US response. Part of my monitoring has been a live stream of the news on Al Jazeera English because it's reporting that isn't presented with an American or a Canadian lens, and for the most part, it's been fascinating to watch the movement grow, despite efforts to cap it.

But today everything changed, as so-called Pro-Mubarak supporters suddenly materialized and emotional agitation gave way to outright violence. It's been sad to watch, but there is no question that the most gut-wrenching moment came just minutes ago, as the Al Jazeera reporter was interviewing by phone an Egyptian protester named Mona against the loud backdrop of sporadic, rapid gunfire in and around Tahrir Square. You could hear her fear and desperation as she sobbed and wondered way the Army was not stepping in to stop the gun violence which, at this time, has killed at least 4 people. The footage shows two men dragging another man over a bridge or overpass to safety, and the dragged man looks either critically wounded or dead.

Egypt is an amateur passion of mine, and I've been enthralled by the history of that dynamic, ancient civilization ever since I was a young child. As I got older, I was dreaming of being an Egyptologist. I've known from Egyptians I've encountered, as well as people I know who have encountered Egyptians, that they are a proud, largely even-minded people, so it seems somehow...wrong, for lack of a better word, to hear of Egyptians firing on Egyptians. I have no doubt that the capacity exists...but it just seemed so unlikely once the Army indicated that it would not take up against the protesters.

Hosni Mubarak needs to step down. Look at what his stupid pride, arrogance and greed has done...

#325: 2011

2011-01-01T13:07:00.002-05:00

Welcome to post #325, and more importantly, welcome to the year 2011.

Around this time of year, I usually look back on the previous year and ponder the lessons learned, the good times, the bad times, and all other things that have contributed to my journey, and last year has certainly been filled with all of the above...

2010 saw a near-total upheaval of my life and the lives of some of the most important people to me; my marriage to Rod ended, but the relationship did not. After months of struggle and some counseling, I made the painful decision to address problems that long went ignored between Rod and I, and after careful consideration, we decided the marriage was over. But we remained committed to being friends and supporters, and we will always care for each other.

This major change was occurring against the backdrop of professional upheaval as well; as 2010 began, I was deep into the process of completing course, as well as my Master's project, and I was in the process of accepting a job in Ottawa, which would provide me the chance to begin my career, but which also meant that I would take the most drastic step of moving across the country, and away from my friends and family.

I completed my Master's degree in April, packed all of my possessions into a U-haul, and raced across the country, into an uncertain future; the job and a small studio 1 bedroom apartment were the only certainties I had...no Rod, no parents, friends, siblings, and no idea how I would manage on my own for the first time since I was 17. I faced the daunting tasks of making new friends, settling into a job, and entering the world of dating again.

This summer was chaotic, both personally and professionally; as I started life on my own, it didn't take long to end up in trouble. The job turned out to be a challenge because the file is one of the most difficult and frustrating in government, and finding my place on the team didn't work out as I hoped. On the personal front, I met one amazing man whom I started seeing, but things quickly became complicated as another amazing man from my past re-entered my life and surprised me by asking to be with me. The summer became a delicate balancing act, as I struggled to handle the situation. By summer's end, the situation was sadly resolved when one man walked away.

I've also struggled with standing on my own again; financially things got to be tight as I had to wait out the period between the end of my casual contract, and the beginning of my permanent position, and the timing couldn't be worse, as I was also entering the repayment period for my hefty student loans. The crunch has continued, and I reached the decision in November that something had to give...

...Etienne and I are moving in together. You might be thinking "Already???" and you'd be forgiven for thinking that. Our relationship from the very start has been quite unusual; from our meeting in June 2009, we became friends very quickly, and there is no denying that we were quite close...close enough in fact, that he took me into his home for nearly a month after I was confronted with bedbugs in the apartment where I was staying. And those of you who had questioned me in the past about whether Etienne and I would ever get together, you're familiar with my response that I believed he did not feel that way about me, which was why I was so shocked when he asked for the relationship. But, the unusual nature of our history and relationship works in our favour, and there is no denying that for both of us, the cost of living is an issue, so, here we are...

In 2011, the initial plans seem to be to find a place, resolve the work situation, and begin the process of working to fulfill the requirements necessary to get accepted to a Ph.D. program. Yes, dear reader(s), that goal still remains a priority. For those of you who have been following my escapades for several years now, you're familiar with both my determination, and with the fact that my journey toward a goal does not always work the way it does for everyone else, so...

Stay tuned! And Happy New Year!

Detroit, Delta, December

2010-12-22T21:33:00.002-05:00

The season of Fancy's Birthmas is nearly over, and looking back, it's been an eventful season!

This adventure started on Wednesday, December 8th. I had taken the 9th and 10th off work for private time and for travel, and the fun was starting on the evening of the 8th with a party hosted by...well, an association of Econonerds. Since the event was just steps from my place, Etienne and I decided to have a quick supper at my place and go from there. He stopped to pick up ingredients, and he seemed to be taking a long time. He strolled in with about 20 minutes to spare, and this is where an event was born. I took the grocery bag and put it on the counter, and when I saw he was still in the doorway, I went over to see why; he told me to reach into one of his coat pockets, so I did, and I pulled out the most hilarious present...a small Darth Vader stuffed toy with an oversized head that cracked me up the minute I saw it in the store. At this point, Etienne proclaimed that the season of Fancy's Birthmas had begun, and he told me to reach into the other pocket, where I found a half bottle of Clicquot Veuve Ponsardin champagne, which he had picked up because I recently read a biography about the Widow Clicquot.

We made nachos and drank beer and champagne, and then we went off to party with Econonerds. Since I didn't have to work the next day, I was free to party it up, but instead, I watched as colleagues of Etienne's, who are not Econonerds, outlasted and outdrank every economist at the party. My boys closed the party down :)

On the 9th, after a later than anticipated start to the day, I took the bus all the way out to Orleans to pick up cat food before hauling ass back downtown to a hair appointment, which I then had to leave in a hurry because I had a christmas reception for work to attend! Then I had to rush around and grab last minute items and run home to pack and get ready because we were leaving for Detroit at 10 on Friday.

Now, as you may remember, I bought tickets to the Detroit vs. Montreal game in Detroit for myself and Etienne as a birfday present. It wasn't just about his team playing against mine...it was about finally making the pilgrimage to the sacred Joe Louis Arena in downtown Detroit! We found a cheap flight, and booked ourselves at the Westin Book Cadillac hotel downtown, so it looked to be a nice little weekend getaway.

On Friday, I rushed to get to work to drop off the keys to the cat sitter, and to the bank to pick up some US cash, and then home to strip the bed and wait for Etienne to show up. When he did, he pulled out a small bag, and, you guessed it...another present! This time it was a book of comics about the weird behaviours of cats, which I had laughed at while browsing at the Urban Behavior here in town. We said goodbye to the cats and grabbed the bus to the airport, where we were both randomly selected to undergo the controversial body scans. It was the start of our adventures in airports...

We landed in Detroit and took an expensive cab downtown to the hotel, checked in, and enjoyed a little downtime before the game. Then it was up and out to the Peoplemover, which is a small sky train system that makes a circle around the heart of downtown Detroit, and it takes you to the Joe Louis Arena. We ran into a lot of Montreal fans (as we learned from the US Customs agents at the Windsor crossing later, more than 1100 fans crossed just at the land crossing for the game), so Etienne had lots of company. We arrived at the Joe, and I was so giddy, Etienne had to remind me to take a picture of the Gordie Howe Entrance!

When we entered, we encountered some seriously old skool vibes...the Joe is an older arena, and it had an awesome feeling of history about it. We found our seats, and waited for the game to start, when something happened to threaten my happiness...I learned that there are some real asshole fans in Detroit. They booed during the Canadian anthem, insulted Canadiens fans, and shouted down anyone who was still trying to find their seats as the game started. I swear, I wanted to slap the woman beside me! But the game proceeded, and I'm happy to say that my Red Wings won 4-2 :)

On Saturday, we had room service breakfast, and got ready to stroll around and see the sights of downtown Detroit. I had wanted to go shopping, but to do so, you have to go out to the suburbs, and Etienne wanted to see the sites of downtown and remain close to a place where he could catch the Big Chill (an outdoor hockey challenge between the University of Michigan and Michigan State University), so he plotted out an itinerary that took us back to the peoplemover, this time in day light. And we saw it.

Detroit is a city that has suffered in the last 3 decades; unemployment, rising crime and lower incomes drove many people out to the suburbs years ago, leaving a depressed, former shell of a once-thriving city. To look at the downtown from the waterfront, it's a fantastic architectural view; these aren't cookie-cutter buildings, but rather there are some wonderfully-designed buildings with character. But once you leave the waterfront and move north, you see the full impact of a deserted city. A burned out, partially collapsed building on an empty block...plenty of empty storefronts...old, rundown buildings housing businesses that I would hazard a guess are surviving by virtue of a dedicated clientele. The full weight of the depressed downtown hit Etienne and I, as we walked around Greek town, which consists of two streets of restaurants and cafes, and a casino. We decided it was enough and headed north to a Bar dedicated to The Red Wings, where we sipped on beer and watched various sports (including the Big Chill game) until we decided it was time to go back to the hotel to rest and get ready.

My friend Allison lives in Windsor, so we had pre-arranged to meet up with her for the evening. She and her friend Tara came over on the tunnel bus from Windsor to the US side to pick us up and take us back to Windsor, where we had Asian food and went to a couple of Allison's favourite watering holes. Despite Windsor's depressed employment issues, the downtown thrives with lots of nightlife, and it was just what we needed after a day of seeing nothing but emptiness. At 12:30, we caught the last tunnel bus back to Detroit, and settled in for the night.

In the morning, we checked out and took another expensive cab ride out to the airport in Romulus, and as we drove, the snow, thick and wet, fell, making us a little anxious. We got to the airport, checked in, went through security, and wandered a little before heading to the gate. Coming into Detroit, I actually liked the Delta terminal; it has an indoor tram that takes you from one end of the massive A Terminal to the other, and a massive underground tunnel complete with music and a light show to take you to Terminals B and C. It was pretty cool, and I decided that the top 3 things we liked about Detroit was (in no particular order): the Red Wings/The Joe, Windsor (not Detroit, but hey...), and the Airport, with an honourable mention going to the Showerhead at the hotel (seriously...that thing was jacked!), and the Peoplemover.

We boarded the plane to go home, but I heard warning sounds coming from the cockpit as I boarded, which I first took to be just pre-flight testing. As it turned out, the plane had a mechanical issue, and they took us all off and directed us to another plane at another gate. So we board that plane...but by this point, the weather had raised, and the snow and ice started to build up, meaning that all these planes now needed de-icing, and the runways needed plowing. Our plane pulled away from the gate and waited in line to get de-iced...but fuck! The wait and the process took so long that our small plane didn't have enough fuel to take off and land in Ottawa, and what's worse is that we had to wait because nearly every gate was full, and we had to find one to be towed to.

We were told to leave the plane because now the winds had kicked up, and it was unsafe to fly the small CRJ-200 planes in that weather, but we had to wait to find out what was going to happen. Finally, a bewildered gate agent directed us to another gate, which, as it turned out, was the massive line up for Delta's customer service...it was official. We were not flying on Sunday. While in the incredibly long (and growing) line with other people stranded because of weather and small planes, we tried to figure out our options. We called Delta and the agent on the phone told us that Ottawa was not possible to rebook until Tuesday night (!), but that there were seats for Monday night to Montreal. Just as we discussed what to do, she told me that two seats opened up for the Montreal flight at 7:40 am on Monday, and we took it; we figured even though we had very little money, at least getting to Montreal would make it possible to get to Ottawa somehow.

Now, because our flight had mechanical problems, the airline is automatically required to get us accommodations and provide meal vouchers, which they did, and because we rebooked on the phone, we got to leave the massive, snaking line of stranded passengers and go to a very short line for passengers getting their vouchers. The agent was very nice and gave us each a dinner and a breakfast voucher worth $6 a piece, and oddly, we each got a hotel voucher for the Best Western Gateway International Resort (in Romulus), despite the fact that we were traveling together. We were hungry by this point, so we stopped for food at a Mexican restaurant in Terminal A. The hotel has a 24-hour free shuttle, so we left the airport and joined a group of travelers on the shuttle, and when we got to the hotel, I gave them my voucher, and we got one room.

We emailed our managers and updated them that we would not be at work in the morning, settled in to watch TV, and went to sleep. At the ungawdly hour of 5 am, we woke up and got ready to go to the airport, mindful to check the flight status. We couldn't take advantage of the free continental breakfast because it was too early, but we figured we'd get something at the airport. So, back onto the shuttle, back to the airport to find...the fucking flight was canceled! So, back in line, where one agent refused to help anyone who had an issue (which was most of the people), instead choosing to check in people who had current bookings. So we waited until another agent was free, and explained the situation, but this woman was not understanding us: it seemed simple...We want to go back to Ottawa. Yes, we booked to Montreal because it's close, but we want to get back to Ottawa. And she still kept trying to book us on Montreal flights, even though we were asking to be booked to, and put on standby for earlier flights to Ottawa. After 20 minutes of frustration, we got her to understand this, and she said Delta had automatically rebooked us on Sunday to go out on the 10:25 am flight on Tuesday. She put us on the standby list for the Monday 2:25 flight (as the 10:25 was also canceled), but she couldn't issue us gatecards to get past security and get to the gate to try to get on the list. After some more uselessness, she told us to go and come back later when someone else might have luck doing it.

Trying to remain cool, we sat down to formulate next steps. At this point, I checked Etienne's hotel voucher, and saw that it was valid until 11 pm on Monday, December 13th. Knowing that so many other people were screwed, and figuring that we weren't likely to get on the standby flight, we decided our best bet was to return to the Best Western, get some free breakfast, and see if we could rebook the room on Etienne's voucher as a precaution (we could always phone and cancel it if we got on the flight). So we returned to the hotel, and after an exhausting night, the front desk clerk wasn't going to put up an argument that the voucher couldn't be used because it expired on the 13th; after I pointed out that it said it expired at 11 pm, she just checked us back in. So we enjoyed a full continental breakfast and went back to the room to relax.

Back to the airport at 11:30, we got into the massive check-in line up, where...who should we end up with? Why, it was the woman who wouldn't serve us in the morning! We explained that we were on the standby list, but couldn't get gatecards because the agent didn't seem to know how to do it...she was immediately disgusted because she saw that as just pushing the problem off on someone else. A few keystrokes, and we had our gate cards...back through security...are you counting? That's twice. When we got to the gate (which had changed 4 times since 11 am), we found chaos...the gate hadn't cleared the previous flight, and the gate agent had no idea what the hell was going on. Not to mention that the flight was already full, and the standby list was about 25 people long. It didn't take us long to figure out that we were not making this flight. After confirming this suspicion with the gate agent, we just said screw it, and went back to the Best Western.

Trying to figure out how to make this experience more pleasant, we decided it was date night! The hotel had a...what...lounge? You know the kind...an under-utilized, 2.5-star airport hotel off the highway...lounge. The Palms. Etienne was psyched! Cheap beer and pizza at The Palms...now that's a Date Night! After supper, we went back to the room and settled in, but not before I washed a pair of socks and underwear in the sink...I'll be damned if I'm wearing dirty underwear, or the same pair for a 2nd or 3rd day! Etienne laughed at me for this, but hey...a girl's got to be resourceful. For good measure, I hung the soaked items on a lampshade to dry :) Now that's a classy addition to date night!

We settled in to watch movies on TV, and got a good night's sleep, ready for...well, whatever. Bright and early (but not too early), we were up, packed up, and back on the shuttle (for the 6th time) to the airport. We checked in, now pros at this whole process, and passed security for a 3rd time. By this point, our attempts at keeping our spirits up were failing, and I think Etienne was done with my sad jokes/complaints about being trapped in Detroit. Our flight was...what else...delayed, because it had been sitting out all night in the frigid temperature, and it needed about an hour to warm up...but we finally got on the plane, along with more than a dozen other wayward travelers who shared our woes. And I still refused to believe we were finally going to get back to Ottawa, even as we took off. I wasn't going to believe it until we landed IN Ottawa. After all, I had heard of people on Monday taking off from Detroit, and then just before landing at their destination, being turned BACK to Detroit because of weather. At about 2:30 pm on Tuesday, we finally DID land in Ottawa. Did I mention that I was fighting a moderately bad cold since the Friday? So, yeah...it's hard to keep your humour through all of this while you have a head full of snot and a box full of tissue you liberated from the hotel stuffed in your bag.

You think this is the end of this story? No way! Because you'll remember that this is all a part of the Fancy's Birthmas season! First off, I am pleased to announce that even after all of this, Etienne and I are still together :) You can tell a lot about a relationship by the way you travel as a couple, and well, we travel fairly well together! Second, the gifts continued! Since then, I have received two collectors magazines about the Red Wings (one from December 1959, featuring Gordie Howe on the cover), a miniature Red Wings jersey, the latest Bunny Suicides book, and...get this...an Ipod Shuffle! I told Etienne that I wanted the new Ipod Nano because it clips on, so it's perfect for activities; so when Etienne won the ipod shuffle at a staff christmas party, he generously gave it (and the gift receipt) to me. I could return it and get credit, which I could use to get the Nano, but I'm thinking I'll happily keep it.

Oh gawd...there's so much more, but you get the idea...December has been a month full of surprises, adventure, and chaos!

Stay tuned...it ain't over yet!

Merry Christmas Baby

2010-12-15T21:10:00.005-05:00

A year of uncertainty...

Last year, the holiday season was hard to find, as spirits were low all around. Rod and I were struggling to make sense of the changes we faced, my mother and I were not on the best of terms, and I was slammed with illness, school pressures, and the pressures of making decisions about my future when I was so uncertain of the present. I spent a lot of time listening to Judy Garland sing longingly for hopes of a merry christmas and better days to come.

This year, the uncertainty remains, but there is a better spirit about it. Etienne has instituted a new season, called Fancy's Birthmas, and since just prior to my actual birfday, I've been getting little presents that have brought laughter and joy (could I sound any more...gooey?).

So, there should be little surprise who this is going out to this year...

December 6th

2010-12-06T21:00:00.002-05:00

Today is National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women, the day we Canadians remember the horrifying École Polytechnique Massacre on December 6, 1989.

I remember the news reports on the TV, and the worry on my mother's face, as she feared copycat attacks in college and university campuses across the country, including the college my sister was at. It's a day that lives in my memory because I looked at the news footage of frantic emergency responders, running around in the cold, snowy winter night in Montreal, and I felt a palpable sense of confusion. Just days before my 11th birthday, this event took hold of my consciousness; I became aware that I was a female, and that this fact alone could put me in harm's way.

21 years later, I'm still conscious of that fact. At 11, I could not grasp the full implications: it was nothing to do with a social construction...Marc Lepine did not shoot and kill those women because of cultural constructions such as religion or national identity; he did not care if they were French, English, Polish, Irish, or whatever. He shot them because a 50/50 chance and biological determination made them women. He constructed women at that school as feminists, not because they were indeed feminists, but because they were women, and that was all he needed...woman must equal feminist. To know that I could be so reduced in order to 'justify' my demise, solely because of that 50/50 chance...it's sad, and unsettling.

But the best I can do is live, and not let the fear stop me from achieving my goals and following my passions. And I think that, above all, is the lesson I carry with me.

So, how about that local sports team?

2010-11-17T14:09:00.002-05:00

Where have I been?

Well, the short simple answer is Not Blogging. I'm limited by what I can blog about these days, which is frustrating, stifling, and just plain sucky.

I can't discuss work, or criticize the evil political overlords because I'm bound by the Values and Ethics Code for the Public Service, and that even extends to not being able to criticize stuff outside of my portfolio. I get that I'm not exactly on par with the norms when it comes to ethics and values, but I see a huge distinction (and I've said this before) between being competent and doing a good job, and being able to express my feelings and perceptions in a way that shouldn't reflect on my ability to do that good, competent job. When my Prime Minister, one that I did not vote for, does or says something I don't agree with, I should be allowed to reserve my right as a private citizen to publicly declare my opposition, as long as I am not doing so in my capacity as a Federal Public Servant, and as long as I am doing so on issues that are unrelated to my files at work.

But I can't because some people decided that I'm not responsible enough to make a distinction between my actions as a private citizen and a public servant. So...work's out on the allowable topics.

I can blog about my relationship with the Quebecois-Swissman, but I'm cautious about that because he prefers a private life.

I can say that right now the words "moving in" and "houses" are entering the vocabulary with some regularity, and I'm wary of that discussion. He makes excellent points, that there's no sense in paying two rents and two power bills, that the markets here are cheaper compared to other cities; points that I once made to Rod when it came to discussing next steps in our relationship. But I'm just out of the relationship with Rod, and I'm still planning on leaving Ottawa as soon as I can, whereas Etienne's tacit plans are to remain here until he's ready to move back to Switzerland. He's also made it clear that I should not go planning my life around him...would you not be wary in my place?

A year ago, I wasn't even sure he wanted me as a friend...a year later, we're here. But then, the relationship between Etienne and I has always been mysterious and unusual, from the start of the most unlikely friendship up to now.

So, a little more to talk about on that subject.

The cats! Oh, I can talk about the cats! My precious little babies, and the constant care and affection they want and need...not to mention the cost of food, and the pain of hauling 15-30 lb pails of litter between the store and here...and for a while, Max went through a phase of peeing on my bed (until I submitted and put the bathroom floor mat back on the floor so he could pee on that instead), which brought me to the brink of giving a cat away.

But you'd get sick of this being a cats-only blog.

There's plenty in the news for me to work with, but yeah, see above discussion on values and ethics code.

So, I'm left with three things at the moment: how much and how desperately I miss Vancouver and my family; Movember; and sports.

On those topics...

...desperately miss Vancouver. The weather, the restaurants, the friends, my parents, the family dog, my views at the Grange St. apartment, the pool, Shaw cable, the car, the access to the states...if you can think of it, I probably miss it like crazy. Ottawa is not home, nor will it ever be.

...Movember...more men in my life are sporting mo-staches this month than not. Etienne, Brent and Ian are all donating their faces for Mustaches for Kids, while Rod, Jeff, and a few other friends are mo'ing up for Movember. If you feel like supporting either cause, that's great, and because I'm biased, I'm going to recommend that you sponsor 'Etienne Normandin' for M4K, and Rod Chudyk for Movember.

...and sports. Guess who's going to Detroit to see the Detroit Red Wings play the Montreal Canadiens on December 10th!! Yeah bitches!! My team plays Etienne's team in the most holy of hockey shrines...the Joe. I'm so stoked!

SQUIRREL!

Outing the Relationship

2010-10-09T18:46:00.004-04:00

Summer in Ottawa has officially come to an end. The leaves are changing colours and are dropping from their branches, and there's a constant coolness in the air now. I'm heading into my first real winter since 2005/2006, and it's going to be a challenge for me to get back into that lifestyle. As the season changes, I reflect now on where life has taken me.

I am now settled into a relationship with one man. He doesn't like being "out there" much, mostly because he values his privacy, but he's been mentioned here before, so I think it's fair to at least name him here, even if I don't discuss him a lot. Without much surprise, it's Etienne.

He surprised me by dropping in to my disorganized apartment very, very early on a Sunday morning to let me know in no uncertain terms that he wanted to be with me. To say I was surprised by his admission would be an understatement; you could have literally knocked me over with a feather. Etienne and I have had a strange relationship that included many months of believing he was completely indifferent to me. I was vehement when asked about him that there was no possibility of a relationship...and here he was, asking for one.

A complicated summer has turned into a quiet autumn. I don't know what the future holds for this relationship, but for now, I'm happy to let it unfold.

Dan Savage/It Gets Better

2010-10-01T17:15:00.003-04:00

Dan Savage is tired of the way bullying of gay kids is handled in schools. Over the past couple of weeks, four high-profile cases of teen suicides have taken over the headlines, and the common thread that propels them to the headlines is that these guys were all bullied for being gay or suspected of being gay. And tired of schools in the US not addressing this issue, tired of the problem of bullying queer students not even being acknowledged by some so-called educators, Dan Savage said it's long past time that gay people stop waiting to be invited into schools to facilitate education about the issue.

He's bypassed the invitations, and through his Youtube project, It Gets Better, he's encouraged queer adults to submit videos that let gay kids and teens know that they've survived that awful period in their lives and gone on to lead happy, healthy lives...to let the kids today know that after the horrors of high school, especially in bigoted or rural communities, it is possible to escape and make their way in the world...to let these kids know that it gets better. So it's worth hanging on.

(Sm)arty Pants

2010-09-03T23:43:00.002-04:00

Tonight, I went to see the Pop Life exhibition at the National Art Gallery here in Ottawa, and I think I set a new record for “silent smirking to demonstrate my frustration, confusion, and fascination.”*

I also had the opportunity this summer to see 'Exit Through the Gift Shop' , a film about street art by the infamous Banksy, which was a great experience, but it’s about the rise of the entity known as Mr. Brainwash, and all I could see as I watched the process of his show unfold was where contemporary art (as we are told that it is) jumped the shark. I won’t speculate about the authenticity of Mr. Brainwash and the film, but it’s safe to say that I’m not devoid of the ability to put one and one together to make two.

Much of yesterday's exhibit, and sitting through the uncomfortable (albeit very entertaining) experiment of Mr. Brainwash, made me recall why I don't like much of the contemporary art of today.

Sure, some has kitsch appeal, but so much of it is commercialized to the point of really being the art of "low culture" a la Keith Haring's incessant outlined man and heart shapes, or else it's become nothing more than rip-offs and scams masquerading as statements about society. Most of these artists are cloying, vapid, self-aggrandizing, placing more importance than should be attributed to the 'statements' their work make, and even their use of art as a criticism of society and the rich people who will buy art for the sake of investment rather than for the sake of appreciation is a tired old trick to divert everyone's attention from the fact that they've willingly sold out and become 'the rich'. It's the rich producing to feed the consumption of the rich. The artists I'm complaining about are little more than failed, unoriginal philosophers, hiding in the mediums of art. The genre as a whole (though with a little room for some exceptions) has reached a stage of utter ennui.

Or something like that.

Needless to say, it was an amusing exercise all the same, and I’m happy that I got to see it.

* This is a typical response; when confronted with a quandary, I usually have a smile of some kind plastered on my face, usually signifying incredulity or perplexity.

On this side of town...

2010-08-31T22:07:00.001-04:00

Tonight, something important ended. I no longer have to deal with two men wanting to be with me because one no longer wants to be with me.

I'm sorry.

When Love isn't enough...

2010-07-19T20:50:00.004-04:00

My oldest brother is is dire straits, and I'm useless to help.

This man used to look after his baby sister; he'd make endless cans of Chef Boyardee, and baked and decorated theme birfday cakes for me when I was little. When he became a father to Morgan and Beni, he was there for baths and feedings and changing the diapers, and when they were sick, he made warm milk to soothe their tummies. He had so much love, both given and received.

But the demons he's battled for much of his life have proven that it's not always the case that Love can heal wounds.

My oldest brother has struggled with mental health problems relating to trauma in his life, and his way of coping was to turn to drugs and alcohol. For a while, he seemed to be working his way back, but by the time his son was born, he was losing that battle. In the ensuing 14 years, he's had up times and down times, but as time goes on, the down times are getting longer and worse, and the ups are growing scarce. Complicating all of this is the fact that he has Hepatitis C, and it's quite advanced. His liver is severely damaged, to the point where using alcohol will soon kill him.

He's homeless now. After some new Salvation Army captains took over the rooming house he was in, he was kicked out (those guys don't appear to believe that compassion is part of what they are supposed to do). Having no home, he has no place to keep his medication, and no stability.

His always tried to focus on something to have hope about. He wants love; but the love he gets from his kids, his mother, his sisters...it hasn't been enough. It never will be.

He's given up on hope now. Homeless, his cell phone, the last steady link to family, was stolen while he stayed at the Salvation Army. He's drinking. He's missing appointments for his health. And try as we all may, there is nothing any of us can do for him. We lack the thousands of dollars necessary to send him to a treatment centre specializing in long-term treatment of mental health and addictions, and government social/health programs can't or won't help. He's run out of chances, so what's left to hope for? Love? It hasn't been enough.

Hot Hot Hot!

2010-07-09T09:33:00.003-04:00

Yeah, it's been a wicked week! For the last 5 days, we've been enduring a heat wave, which I've been unable to enjoy with trips to the beach or the lake because of two things...first...I'm a girl, and Mother Nature is a cruel mistress...second, I've come down with a flu or cold...I can't really tell because usually I'd know the difference by the fever grade. And I can't tell the fever grade because I'm already melting in the 35 degree heat (with a humidex of 44).

The poor cats...they are so lethargic, just lolling around, looking for any relief. I've used the ice cube trick on them a few times, but during the hottest time of day, I'm usually at work and I can do little but hurry home and get them fresh water.

In other news, want to talk about hot? Let's talk LA ROJA!! That's right! My spectacular Spaniards have defied the will of the young German team to make it to the World Cup finals!! Viva La Roja!

Etienne's trying to be understanding about my allegiance to Spain. In his mind, if you aren't from a country or of that country's heritage, you shouldn't be cheering for them. Seriously, Canada mounts no challenge when it comes to qualifying for the World Cup, so that leaves me but nowhere by that logic. I like the Spanish team, and have since my trip to Spain in 1995, when we seemed to run into futbol teams everywhere we went...it was lust at first sight ;) I've also spent not an insignificant part of my post-secondary schooling learning Spanish, reading Spanish literature and history...someday Fancy, someday...

I give it a 5.0 out of 10

2010-06-23T17:43:00.003-04:00

So. By now, maybe you've heard the news...

Earthquake!

At 1:41 pm EST, I was sitting at my desk at work, and suddenly everything started shaking. At first, it was a little rumble, not unusual on our street where large over-sized buses and trucks go past, and we're only on the 5th floor...but this was unusual because it got stronger and kept going. I watched my monitor swaying, and waited for it to stop before getting up and going to the window in time to see the windows of the building across the street still shaking.

My coworkers and I were surprised...an earthquake in Ottawa? Really? Some people were worried, thinking a bomb had gone off somewhere (not out of the realm of possibility...we work just a few blocks from Parliament Hill, and the G8/G20 summit is being hosted up the highway from us in Toronto). Instantly, a coworker was on the phone home, and he found out they felt it out there too, far from the downtown core, so we ruled out bombing, and ruled in the earthquake.

Bemused, my coworkers briefly wondered what to do..."Should we leave?" And it was decided that yes, yes we should. So we did, because we didn't know if there would be aftershocks. And we went down to the street to wait for further direction. With no emergency/safety warden on our floor yet (our branch has only just moved into the building recently), we weren't sure what to expect. Everyone was texting or trying to call family and friends...I was trying to reach a couple of people myself, but the cellular networks were overloaded, and it took forever to send a message, never mind make a call. Oddly enough, I had no problems at all getting facebook on my blackberry, and I updated my status and checked out a few more, where I learned that the earthquake was felt in Toronto, New York and Ohio. Not bad!

As we stood there on the side of the Transitway, we watched buses rumbled past us, filled to the ceiling with people, and we laughed at the exodus away from the downtown core.

After a while, a floor warden from another floor told us it was okay to go back in, so we did. And then I found out that many of the government offices just sent staff home after evacuating...so why did we have to go back??

Oh well. I volunteered to be on the safety committee after it was suggested by a manager in my group. It appears that it takes more than a 5.0 magnitude earthquake to rattle my nerves :)

PS - the cats are obviously spooked, but they are fine. There are a few things on the floor, and a few more precariously perched on ledges and shelves, but otherwise, all is well in the Poitras Palace.

When it rains in Calgary...

2010-06-16T21:57:00.002-04:00

So, my day wasn't going according to plan...Spain lost to Switzerland (yes, darling, I know you're mocking me)...there were no good movies on the flight from Ottawa to Calgary, and now this...

So I landed in Calgary to gray skies and rain, and I board the plane to Vancouver, and I'm getting ready for a quick 1 hour 10 minute hop over the mountains to YVR...not so. The air condition on our plane was busted. And while we were waiting for the new unit to be installed, a lightning advisory (the first of several) was issued, forcing the tarmack staff inside. And we're sitting, and we're sitting. And the plane runs out of cups, so hold on to yours (but I didn't get one, because I still had a full bottle of water). And the video system shorts out, and the attendants have to do the safety demo the old fashioned way (totally funny, because they's forgotten how, I suspect). To deal with the increasing heat on the plane, the crew opened the front and back doors.

Finally, two lightning advisories and an air conditioning unit later, we are pushed back from the gate and heading out to the tarmack for take off. Except we stop. And sit. And wait. And then the crew tells us that there is a light on indicating that there's a problem with the backdoor. Okay. But guess what? Another lightning advisory! So we have to wait for it to pass before the tarmack crew can come out and tow us back to the gate.

Finally, the backdoor issue is resolved...but we're not taking off yet. Why?

Because the air crew has now worked beyond their allowable hours for the time period, and...

So now I'm sitting here, not leaving until 9 or 10 because we have to wait for a new crew to be pulled in.

Clearly, raining in Calgary is a bad omen. I don't have many SNAFUs when I travel, but this day has just turned out to be one of the few!

And why am I going back to Vancouver (Fancy, it's Wednesday, shouldn't you be working?)? Because I convocate tomorrow! And if I ever get there, it will be the first time my Dad will see me cross the podium after 3 misses. So I'd better make it to Vancouver tonight, or Imma be insanely pissed.

PS - the rest of my life proceeds...working; dating life still a mess; cats still cute; still living on Ottawa. Carry on.

O what a tangled web...

2010-05-22T10:06:00.002-04:00

Welcome to Ottawa.

The last time you read me, I was thoroughly beaten down by the move from Vancouver. And I wish I could say I've been catching up on my rest, but it's not the case at all.

It seems that men are out to make my life interesting. Currently, I am caught in a situation between three men. An old lover, a new man, and a recent lover have all made it clear that they would like to see me, exclusively in the case of two of them. The third is actually going to be living in Montreal, so he's not a factor.

Ironically, about the only man in my life right now who should be making things difficult for me, isn't. Rod has been the perfect friend through all of this. That's right. I signed the divorce papers on Thursday, and mailed them yesterday, and my marriage is over. You'd think that a divorce would be the thing causing me such emotional strain and headaches, but it's simply not the case. Sure, I'm sad, it is a little bittersweet to let go of Rod and our relationship, but we've made out peace with it.

Instead, what is keeping me up at night is a struggle to deal with the fact that I have to make a choice between someone I've loved before and someone I could see myself loving very easily.

I know, you might be thinking "It's too soon, step back" and you'd be right to think that. But to me, that's just kicking the can down the road...I'd still have to deal with it at some point.

Blurg.

In other news, the cats have officially celebrated their first week in Ottawa, and they've settled in pretty well. I was afraid they wouldn't adjust, but they've already got favourite spots, and they've really taken to the apartment. That makes my life so much easier.

So...how have you been?

ZombieFancy write blog....braaaaaaaains....

2010-05-03T23:14:00.002-04:00

Where have I been? Take out a map of Canada. Got it?

I'll wait...

*elevator music*

Ready?

Now take your finger and trace it all the way along the Trans-Canada highway from Burnaby, BC to Ottawa, ON. I've been everywhere on that line.

Four day.

FORTY-FOUR HOURS OF DRIVING. A TRUCK. WITH MY DAD. 20 hours of sleep. Junk food and fast food at every stop.

Packing before the move, unpacking after the move.

People...I've got dark, baggy circles under my eyes, and for the first time ever, I look close to my age. I'm one good Brain Slushie away from being a Zombie.

I'll explain things more coherently in a day or two, but for now, I must sleep so I can get up for my second day of work. That's right...no rest for the wicked.

And you thought Sears was boring...

2010-04-13T22:18:00.002-04:00

Today, I took the second major leap toward submitting my capstone to the library, meaning that the capstone is dead, buried, and hopefully donating it's guts to other needy projects and research papers!

But that pales in comparison to the hijinx I was a party to this afternoon!

This afternoon, in an effort to prove to my mum that she's just as important as everything else in the remaining days I have left in Vancouver, I arranged to go out to see her and take her shopping for bathing suits and bras (incidentally, the most hated and second most hated items women shop for...no joke, studies have been conducted, and I learned about it when I worked at a swimwear store). We drove out to Willowbrook mall in Langley because mummy likes the Sears there for both items, and we wasted no time getting her into a room and some suits.

Well, partway through this operation, I noticed this old, sketchy man in the area of the women's bathing suits/fitting rooms, and I thought, "geez, keep an eye on that one..." Well, around that time, mummy foolishly abandoned her room to look for more suits, and just as I was about to shoo her back into the room, I looked up and saw the bastard coming out of her change room, holding a cell phone, which I first thought was hers. He started babbling to her about a phone call, and started to slip past us, and I told mum to check her purse for her wallet, as I watched him disappear around the corner into the stock room door. She told me it was missing, and I instantly ran to the stock room to track the bastard down. I kept an eye on the door as I went to the cashier desk about 15 feet away and reported it, and the lady got on the phone and called store security. I went back to watching the door, and was approached by a young man in street clothes, who was the loss prevention officer for the store (cute guy!), and filled him in.

He told me that the stock room had two entrances, and told me to stay at the one I was at, while he went in from the other entrance to see if the bastard was still in there. I was impatient, but eventually I heard men's voices, and the security guy and another staff man pulled the bastard out, lying and denying like crazy. They couldn't search him, but they could ask him to empty his pockets and such, which he did, arguing the whole time that he was looking for the bathroom, first in the fitting rooms, then in the stock room, and then he said he was following another guy in there...at this point, I must interject...I might sound stupid from time to time, but no one would ever make the mistake of believing me to actually *be* stupid. Fucking liar.

The manager went back to where he found the guy and found the wallet stashed, mostly intact, but for $100 USD that my mum had in her wallet, which was missing. At this point, it was time to bring the cops in. And the entire time, this guy is asking to go to the bathroom...no shit, Sherlock! You don't want the RCMP to catch you with the stolen money on you! We were sent to wait, and in that time, he was taken to the bathroom, where there is no doubt that the money was flushed along with whatever crack-laden piss he managed to force through his urethra. Bastard. So when the RCMP did show up, the money was gone, and there was nothing to be done, but escort him from the store and ban his dumb ass. Well, he's an idiot, and he came right back in, because he left his FUCKING CRACK PIPE in the lockdown room where he was being held. Are you fucking retarded?? Yes.

The store oh-so-generously gave me and my mother one $10 gift card each (what the fuck am I gonna do with a $10 Sears giftcard??) to encourage our (her) continued business. In the chaos of everything, my mum noticed she forgot to take off the swimsuit bottoms she was wearing when it all happened, and we ended up continuing the shopping excursion (at which point I saw the stupid fucker re-enter the store after his ejection).

The fucker walked, my folks are out $100 USD, and I get to say that I saved my mum the heartbreaking task of reporting a missing wallet.

PS- I gave my mum my $10 gift card...seriously, what the fuck would I do with $10 at a store I never go to?

Well, that was easy!

2010-04-01T11:22:00.003-04:00

So that was the shortest, most succinct hunt ever. I found a place on the website for a professional management company, made the appointment to view, viewed, and took the apartment all within a matter of 4 hours!

It was quite fortuitous actually; I've been on that site before to scout out other apartments, and this place never came up before. Well, as it turns out, a young family is being transferred part way through their lease, and even though the company doesn't usually put lease-transfers on their website, this time, the manager did, and it worked out perfectly! The place has wood floors, a dishwasher (yay!), and it's in a perfect location to be at the heart of it all. It is a basement suite, which I swore I'd never do again, but the basement is actually not deep, and my windows are huge, so it's very bright and airy, and it gets southern exposure, so I'll have the sun warming the place considerably...which in the summer means I need to buy an apartment air conditioner unit. The cats will love the window ledges and watching various critters run around outside.

And of course the best part is that I'm taking over the remainder of the lease from the previous tenants, so for that time period, my rent is actually decently low, giving me time to have saving and earn more.

All things considered, I didn't feel I needed to see any more places. There had been a building just a block away from Etienne's place here that I was interested in too, but it was a bachelor suite, and I've been concerned about having two cats who don't particularly care for each other in such a small place, with no chance to get out of each other's face. So yay! I'm by Elgin, the Canal, close to work and the mall, and the market, and it will make me look forward to living in Ottawa a little more.

Now the focus changes to wrapping up things in Vancouver...and as of now, I have very little time to do that!

Shhhhh! Be vewwy, vewwy quiet! I'm hunting Apawtments!

2010-03-24T17:58:00.004-04:00

Aaaaaaaaaaand go!

I'm in Ottawa now, for the start of Apartment-hunting season. It's open season on all available clean, well-managed, pet-friendly bachelor and 1-bedroom suites under $1000 in the Downtown-Centretown, Golden Triangle and Sandy Hill areas!

My goal is to leave here with an application approved!

Let the hunt...begin! After a shower.

Excellent going-away gift suggestions...

2010-03-16T12:38:00.002-04:00

For my friends, who sometimes need more that obvious hints (and I'm looking at you, Rod), I have supplied a list of potential going-away presents that would elicit joyful responses:

1) a copy of "Where the Wild Things Are" - the book, not the movie. I've wanted a copy for years and years...decades really, and have never received one. I've resisted buying one myself because I'd always hoped I'd get a copy in a more meaningful fashion.

2) A "Vancouver" picture or coffee table book. I am totally going to miss this city. 'nuff said.

3) Gift Cards for The Bay, Mexx, Femme de Carriere, Jacob, Chapters, HMV, RW & Co, Future Shop, Ikea, and Winners. I shop at these places, and I'm going to need to furnish the new apartment, have things to entertain me on those long, cold, Ottawa winter nights, and be on the lookout for professional work attire :)

4) A Bescherelle. Otherwise known as a French Grammar book.

5) A map book of Ottawa-Gatineau.

6) A backpack. The kind to get me around Europe. I'm not going on some self-exploratory journey where I will find a deeper meaning to my life or anything...just going to see some sites and party as a foreigner :)

7) Both albums by The Fratellis...that shit is awesome. period.

8) A map book of Montreal. I'm going to memorize that city!

9) a Plane ticket back to Vancouver for June :) I'll finally get to convocate in front of my dad!

10) A piece of Vancouver!

Change, change, change, change...

2010-03-15T02:24:00.007-04:00

Do you ever put a song on repeat, and listen to it for hours, so the point that its every note is burned into your brain?

I do sometimes. And tonight, it's "L.E.S. Artists" by Santogold. The video is odd, but the lyrics...repeating "I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up, if I can stand up mean for the things that I believe" over and over...they speak to my current state of mind.

This isn't just about Rod, though I know he's a very large part of it. I'm just weeks away from leaping into the unknown. I've moving to a new city, where I will be alone, into a new job in a new subject area. I'm leaving school, Vancouver, my family and friends, everything that I've cultivated over the past 4 years. And it's scary as hell, but like Santogold says, "I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up, if I can stand up mean for the things that I believe." At this point, I have to believe that all these changes will be worthwhile. It's going to be a tough act to follow...good and wonderful things happened during the chapter I'm finishing...I have to hope good and wonderful things await me in this new chapter.

Oh, the people you will "meet"

2010-03-14T19:35:00.004-04:00

This 'meeting people' business has already proven to be one of the most interesting experiences I've had in a while. Yes, I'm on an online dating website (no, I won't say which one), and I'm looking to meet people in Ottawa. It's not about the dating part, though if it gets there with someone, I won't say no; it's about meeting people and making connections and even friends. All due respect to my Ottawa friends, but I need to meet more people in Ottawa!

The problem, which I foresaw, is that you have to wade through some real characters to get to any real gems. And this weekend, just as I was contemplating leaving the site for a while, I got some REAL characters.

This weekend alone, I've been invited to "get together" with 3 guys, all around closing time in Ottawa. This does not surprise me, and I'm amused by it. There's no mistaking their meaning. The messages go something like, "Hi, how are you tonight? I'm drunk, lonely and horny. Wanna come over (or Where do you live)?" I laugh to myself as I respond "Good luck with that. I'm in Vancouver." Guys don't read my profile, they see knee stockings and want a booty call! Oh well. But the reason I'm laughing is because I have to wonder if their lameass lines actually ever work? And if you took the time to read my profile, you'd see I'm an educated woman with no self-esteem issues that would drive me to answer "Okay!" to these pitiful attempts at booty calls. This pretty well deterred two of them. But the third decided he really wanted to keep things going, and without any further encouragement, he's asked me if I could please wear my Halloween costume when I go to his house.

But this is not even close to the prize-winner of the weekend. A simple "Hi, how are you?" exchange with one guy led almost instantly to a proposition of a different kind: he asked me if I ever considered selling a pair of my panties. My WTF-o-meter instantly went off the chart, and I was just *dying* to know what this was about, so I said it was something that's never crossed my mind, honestly. He responded that I am an extremely attractive and desirable woman, and he'd pay well for a pair.

This is essentially the lowest level of sex work possible, and it's somewhat common in the world of fetishism. The client requests something that often does not even require physical contact, merely that some fetish they engage in be fulfilled (think Sex and the City, and the episode involving Charlotte and the shoe salesman). This particular request does not bother me from my own perspective as a purveyor, I have nothing to fear when it comes to my personal safety. A person with a no-contact fetish is typically harmless.

But, having had some education in so-called aberrant behaviours, the part that does both me is the aspect of exploitation of a fetishist. If I was so inclined, this would be an opportunity for me to exploit this person's willingness to pay with little cost to myself. This shifts the balance of power away from equal footing, toward favouring me. On the other hand, is it really exploitation if this is truly what the client desires?

I'm never sure what to think. After reading a Dan Savage column a few weeks ago regarding a similar situation, I thought, "well, if it's not causing harm to either client or provider, there's nothing wrong with it." But at the time, I never thought I would be in a situation where I myself am being asked to engage in this type of low-level sex work. The control imposed by society tells me it is wrong to engage. The Libertarian streak in me says 'Who cares?'

Anyone else have an opinion?

...And the Winner is...

2010-03-08T16:15:00.002-05:00

ME!

This morning, after a fretful sleep during which I apparently bit my lip so hard it split on the inside, I went to school in a panic. I had no class this morning, no group meeting, or any other typical reason for why you might assume I'd be at school on a Monday morning. What I had, was my Capstone thesis defence.

After spending this weekend scurrying to get my capstone to the examiner, as well as putting together a powerpoint presentation for the defence, I was mortified to find out that our printer was out of ink and dirty anyway. How was I going to print my materials for the defence??

So I was up super early at 6:30 am (after going to bed at 2 am) because my defence was scheduled for 9 am, and I needed to go to school to print stuff. Except when I got there, the faculty offices door was still lock, and the library and computer labs were still closed...at 8:30 on a Monday morning?? What?? And the panic was starting to set in as the minutes ticked by and I had to be downstairs to set up.

Thankfully, Christine a 1st/2nd year student arrived and had enough printing credits for our student printer in the Grad room, and I was able to print all 98 pages of my capstone and my 7 speaking notes pages...I threw $10 at her in gratitude, for something that should have cost just a smidge over $5, and bolted downstairs with 5 minutes to spare.

My examiner showed up, but my supervisor was 15 minutes late! And...GO!

Did I mention that the first time I mock defended my capstone, my presentation was shite, and I spent much of last night revising it entirely? No? Yeah, well, my mock defence presentation was shite and I revised nearly the whole thing last night. AND IT WORKED!

My supervisor was very pleased with my presentation and has asked me to send her my slides so she can give them to future students as a template. As for the defence itself, I wasn't surprised by most of the comments and questions, and in the end, I have was are considered minor revisions (stuff about explaining and expanding on subjects), no major flawholes in my project...I revise in 3 or 4 days, turn it over to Nancy, wait for the final okay, and then I ship it off to the printer and the Library!

For serious, dear reader...it's been a long, at times bitter ride to get to this point. I've been working through illnesses, a painful (but amicable) breakdown of my marriage, the problems my marriage breakdown created for my relationship with my parents, traveling back and forth to Ottawa, a cousin's death, the Olympics madness, my brother's illness, and a host of other problems. My supervisor has never seen so much happen to a single student in the program in one school year, never mind the fact that I still came out swinging. I had my moments of weakness, and I'm entitled to them, but in the end, I was determined to win. And that, I did!

Fancy C. Poitras, BA, PBD, MPP (unofficial)...stay tuned...at some point, I'll forget all the madness I've endured, and start applying to PhD programs! But for now at least...it's nap time :)

Policy Problem

2010-03-02T15:28:00.002-05:00

Saskatchewan chief feels responsible after boy found dead, mauled by dogs

This is an issue I dealt with this summer in INAC, and I can tell you for certain two things: a lot of these dogs on reserves are semi-feral, and according to INAC policy, it is the reserve's responsibility to find the resources to deal with the matters.

What about those reserves that don't have the financial resources to manage the dog populations? Not to mention that the solution adopted frequently, the cull, is controversial, not just with animal rights people, but also on the reserves as well. Maybe it's time INAC address partnerships to deal with this issue. A more humane solution is to conduct periodic spay and neutering programs on reserves, but it's an expensive option. Hey, first years...I smell a potential capstone...

And if I'm going to get fired before I'm hired for saying so, it's their loss.

That's MISS Wingman to you...

2010-02-27T19:44:00.002-05:00

So, I've got this friend Jeevan...funny guy with a lot of habits and beliefs I can't help but marvel at, and Jeevan's got me sort of slotted into a role in his life. Now, he lives in another province, so we don't see each other much, but when we get together, the talk gets interesting. Jeevan realizes I see things that he and other people miss, and I have considerable expertise when it comes to women (ummm, because I am one) that he can benefit from without having to worry about sexual tension or any kind of awkwardness. To Jeevan, I'm not a target, I am...a Wingman.

Without ever having seen me in action, Jeevan knows that I'm not a woman to mess with, and during the NMUN trip to New York in 2005, Jeevan was sure that I could drop any of the guys on the trip, with the exception of Harold, who would put up a serious fight. In fact, Harold and I nearly reached that situation, and I don't remember what stopped it, but ever since then, Jeevan's been quite sure that, of all his friends, he would want me to have his back if he ever found himself in a bar fight.

I take it as a compliment of course...I think it's really funny that this guy thinks I'm Wingman material.

So last night, I'm at a surprise party for Sammy, and I'm talking to Andreas about girls, and he throws it out there that he'd want to me to be a Wingman for him...completely unaware of the situation with Jeevan. I don't think I ever expected that to come from anyone other than Jeevan!

But now I'm left wondering...does my decidedly non-girlie personality mean I'm always going to be Wingman instead of target? Is the only adjective applied to me by guys always going to be "Awesome"? Holy crap...have I become Captain Awesome, Wingman Extraordinaire? Daaaaamn! I never saw that coming!

Countdown...

2010-02-22T13:21:00.002-05:00

In exactly two weeks, at this time, I will have finished the presentation and examination...otherwise known as the Defence of my Capstone thesis. And I'm dreading it terribly. The Examiner is a sharp lady who I can't finesse as easily as I do other people. She's a rather unknown element because she was away last year, and doesn't teach first year classes in any case.

But that's not the only event I'm counting down to. I've also got to sort out the job situation and deal with the move. There's really not that much time left until the end of school, and pretty much the end of my life as I've known it. I'm scared of these massive changes, with the separation and the move, but in true Poitras style, I'm going to stick out my chin and fake it til I make it! I've got to...being stupid and bold are both my best and worst qualities, depending on the situation at hand, and without them, there'd be no colourful Fancy to laugh at, cry for, and shake your head in pity/disbelief. Can't disappoint all those who know and tolerate/love me, now can I?

In other news, I'm adjusting to life alone. Rod is in Florida until March 4th on business, and I've been left here alone to deal with cats and messes. But I've been hiding in my apartment way too much, pretending (or possibly actually working on) to work on my thesis, which I've gone past the deadline on, so I'm both busy and yet acutely aware that I am alone. When I've got out, I've been mostly alone. So if this is the glimpse of my future in Ottawa, I'd better get cracking on meeting people who will keep me busy 5-6 nights a week!

Abnormality of Olympic Proportions

2010-02-17T00:18:00.002-05:00

So, I don't know, but I hear there's something major going on in Vancouver these days...some kinda sporting event plastered all over my TV.

Vancouver has become an unrecognizable city! I mean, the buildings and streets are all in place, but they now look so different; red and white Canada flags are everywhere, usually busy streets are closed off with barricades and bollards, the trains and buses are PACKED, as are the streets around Robson and Granville...my city has become a zoo. It's a see of red everywhere, as everyone is out in olympic gear, draped in flags and pins, and random outbursts of 'Oh Canada' fill the air at any given time. The insanity!

It's fairly quiet in Burnaby, except for extra traffic at Metrotown, including olympic athletes and officials. The other day, 4 young and very nice-looking members of the Czech team caught my eye, and not just because of their hotness...it just caught me off guard to see these guys who are here pursuing a dream. Whatever their sports, I wish them well. I've always stated that I support the Athletes and the competition; my anti-olympic stance is based on the overbearing and downright malicious spirit of Corporatism and Monopolization of the games. I hardly think the runners at Marathon those hundreds of years ago were sponsored by Samsung, nor could they have foreseen what would become of their event.

To give you an idea of what I mean by the Corporatism, I'll provide an example that made me sick. The olympic torch relay turned out to be rolling past my building, coming up the hill at Willingdon and turning onto Kingsway. I stayed in my apartment because it was a cold day, but I went out onto my balcony and watched masses of people line both streets to watch the torch go by. When it finally arrived, I started to feel the competitive spirit finally...I was eager to see the start of the games, so I could see the athletes perform and maybe be fortunate to achieve their goals, be they posting a personal best or winning a medal. The real reason for the games was rolling passed my window...and right INTO the ROYAL BANK across the fucking street. That's right...in that second, my olympic spirit was smothered, as I watched the torch disappear into the official banking sponsor of the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. A corporation hijacked even the torch relay, probably the purest symbol of this entire event.

It's making me seriously think of delaying my application to PhD programs in London, because I don't think I could live in another Olympic city come 2012!

Change: a harsh mistress

2010-02-07T17:41:00.001-05:00

Rod and I have decided to end our marriage.

This summer, we had to spend time apart for both of our jobs, and significant changes and questions forced me to look at our relationship and see that we've been ignoring serious problems for a long time...years in some cases. By the time I returned to Vancouver in August and we settled back into our lives, I was quite concerned. By November, the stress became too much, and we had the first of many, many talks. The talks led us to consider separation when I move to Ottawa, in order to have less pressure to make decisions. But this weekend, Rod and I were forced to acknowledge the painful fact that this will be a separation for good.

Rod and I have been together for more than 11 years; we don't regret the time we spent together. Had we talked sooner about some things, especially when feelings were strong about them...but there's no point in looking back in that way. The decision is amicable and mutual, and we're committed to maintaining a friendship instead. So ours is not an end; it's a change. We still love each other deeply, but not in the ways that a marriage needs in order to thrive.

It's all for the best. In the end, we want to be happy, and equally as important, we want to see each other happy as well.

And life reportedly goes on...

2010-02-02T15:10:00.002-05:00

I've been caught up in so many SNAFUs as of late to seriously consider the value of running away from home. At 31 years old, I know I can't, because I have responsibilities to attend to, but the 12 year old in me just wants to flee.

You'd think given my recent capstone-mania that this would be related to school. But you'd be wrong. As a matter of fact, school is the one area of my life right now where things are going along quite smoothly, and I'm on track to be done my capstone and classes in time to graduate as expected in June. Just last week, I struggled and slogged my way through revisions and turned in my first draft (95% completed) of my pre-defence capstone. So school, not a SNAFU.

Physical Health: I've been quite sick over the last three weeks. First I had strep throat, which I was treated for, and then Rod passed along his cold, which my body turned into bronchitis. How did I come to know it was bronchitis? During a bad day of coughing fits, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my lower abdomen. After much arguing, I was taken to emergency, where it was determined I probably strained or tore muscles from so much coughing. And the doctor said, "hey, you're wheezing." So I got a bronchitis diagnosis, an unnecessary IV hook-up poke, and a bottle of Tylenol 3's for my trouble.

Mental Health: deteriorating due to exhaustion. That's not to say I'm going crazy, it just means that the stress and fatigue of everything I've been dealing with has worn down my usually tough composure, and I'm more susceptible to stress and strain.

There are serious things going on right now that I don't feel comfortable blogging about, despite my usual tendency toward candor; huge changes are on the horizon for me and those in my life. By April, most of the pressing details will be worked out, but we are talking about life-altering events to come. The thing is that all of these personal SNAFUs are affecting a lot of important people in ways that will be difficult to repair. This adds greatly to the stress I'm feeling already about the decisions I'm faced with. And it's really strained my relationship with my parents, whom I'm close to.

I'm opening up and admitting that right now, I'm weakened, mentally, physically, emotionally. The challenges I'm facing are more than I've ever confronted before; but I'm still tough, and I won't be beaten. A little worse for the wear, but still a fighter.

Haitian Relief Effort

2010-01-13T16:27:00.002-05:00

This summer I was fortunate enough to meet a few Haitian Nationals living and working in Ottawa-Gatineau. I have been able to reach one of them, who describe to me the fear and anxiety for family members in Port-Au-Prince whom they've had no word from. It really breaks my heart to hear the desperation in her voice, and I'm compelled to do what little I can.

If you can give, there are two ways I suggest to go about it:

The direct way is to use the link below (Canadian Red Cross) to donate using a credit card, and you get a personal tax receipt:
https://www.paypaq.com/redcross/en/corporation/index.php?login=haiti&password=support

Alternatively, Wyclef Jean's group Yele, is collecting donations on its website, however that website is experiencing difficulties due to a very high volume:
http://www.yele.org/

If you are outside of Canada, please consider donations to your own national branch of the Red Cross-Red Crescent. The devastation is overwhelming, and Haiti needs much assistance.

Thanks,

Fancy

Something Like Ideal

2010-01-07T23:47:00.001-05:00

So I have this friend, Brent Stephen Smith, right? And he wrote a book, okay? It's self-published for now, but you (That's right, YOU) could help make it so big, it gets picked up by a big soulless publishing company who will pay him scads of money AND advance him a huge cheque for his next book :)

It's called 'Something Like Ideal', and it's an interesting read...a collection of lives that intersect and become part of the narrator's journey.

It's great to support Canadian talent that's just starting out, so feel free to share this with friends...and if you play your cards right, I might be able to get the author to autograph it ;)

Details:

Digital download ($4.95): http://www.lulu.com/product/download/something-like-ideal/6076517

Paperback ($14.95): http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/something-like-ideal/7807368

Hardcover ($39.95, includes Hope Springs): http://www.lulu.com/content/ha...rdcover-book/something-like-ideal-limited-edition/7831807

Boxing Day oh-9

2009-12-28T13:05:00.002-05:00

The second best holiday of the year was a smash hit this year, but it was an expensive one, and it's driven me to consider putting myself back on the temp sheet for Templine in January because I also have to pay for a ticket to Ottawa. Ottawa, again? Yes, and I'll get into that later. First, the goodies!

So, I was up at 7 am on Boxing Day, and out the door, walking to Metrotown by 8:15 (you don't *drive* to Metrotown on Boxing Day if you live close by...unless you're planning major/heavy purchases). I arrived, and for the first time in years, didn't have much of a plan...I just know that after two months of having no money to spend, or having to spend what little I had on xmas presents, I'm going to go mad if I don't go crazy on Boxing Day. So the plan was "look for something interesting". Well, I dropped into a store I rarely enter in Vancouver, but frequented more in Ottawa (I don't know why), Femme de Carriere. It's got nice stuff, but I wasn't seeing anything until I nearly finished the lap, when I spotted a devilish little blue sweater...half off. Done!

I moved on to some of the usual suspects, but nothing was knocking my socks off...until Banana Republic! I spotted a grey pea coat, and even though it's not thick enough to withstand winters, it is sufficient for those West Coast days when the temps are about 7-14 degrees, and neither a light summer coat nor a big winter coat will do. It was already marked down 50% from $218 to $109, so why not! I continued on through the mob (it was far busier there this year than in years past), and found some dresses that looked work-appropriate, so I tried them on. With some alterations, one was perfect, and marked down from $185 to $99, so Done! In addition to these deals, it was 30% off of nearly everything in the store, so really, I made out like a bandit!

After that, I decided it was time to leave the mall (it was only 10:30), and head downtown to my secret treasure, The Bay. Seriously people...with patience and a keen eye for deals, The Bay (especially the big flagship stores) can be one of the best kept secrets in the Shopping World...designer and brand names on sale for 30-50% off is a regular feature, and then there are extra markdowns...my love affair with The Bay is well known among those who compliment me on my clothes, accessories and shoes.

Anyway, I made my way up to the shoe department to see if there were any good boots worth considering...and here's were the newest love affair starts. I found a pair of black espadrilles to replace the smelly lace ones I loved but can no longer wear due to the stink, and of course they were discounted by a further 25%. Then I moved on and spotted a couple of pairs of black boots, one by Fossil, one by Nine West that I had to try. While I was waiting for the boots to be pulled from stock, I noticed a pair of camel Fossil boots that really knocked my socks off. The sample was a 7.5, so I slipped it on to see if I'd even like it, and immediately fell in love. I requested them in a size 8, and set about trying the black boots. The black Fossils were out, they just weren't doing it, but the black Nine Wests were awesome...they look like women's biker boots...sold! Then my gorgeous camel Fossil beauties came out from the stock room, and slipping them on in my size...well, I knew in that moment that I loved them more than life itself.

So, faced with an expensive choice? No, not Fancy! Both pairs were around the $270 mark, but guess what? Boxing Week, 50% off! So literally, both pairs for the price of one! I knew it meant I couldn't venture upstairs to the Ladies Department, but who cares! I was in love! And after I bought them, I was a good little consumer, and went home. I made it home, having saved something like $600-700! All before noon! Yes people, Boxing Day shopping got PWNED!

It didn't end there either. Rod went out exploring, looking for shoes, and when he went down to the Adidas Outlet store on Marine Way, he learned that EVERYTHING in store was marked down 50% off the last ticketed price. For a place that's already marked things down, it's crazy cheaper. But the line up was 3 hours long to pay, and I needed the car, so we decided to go back the next day.

(Which we did, and I made myself stay under $100...final total: $86 including taxes on a pair of running shoes, a bag, and a hoodie, regularly retailing about $200)

I rushed off to see Brent, who was home for the holidays, and enjoyed watching the scene: picture a very middle class home in one of the nicer parts of town, with an upright, church-going, loving family...it was all very...anthropological. Seriously...coming from a lifetime of knowing the more "colourful" side of life, it was fascinating to see the Nuclear family in action. Not bad, just different! But the observing had to come to an end, as I was off to a party at a friend's house, which Rod had gone ahead to, so I passed off a couple of Ottawa-bound presents, and took off.

I was late getting to Anastasia's, but it was a fun time, with everyone feeling the liquid holiday cheer, so the night was filled with talking and laughter, and serious discussions...not a bad way to end the second best day of the year!

Now, back to this Ottawa business. Well, I spotted a really interesting conference on development in Africa, and I'll be attending. As per usual this year, I've lined up cheap (free) accommodation with a friend, and the registration fee for the conference was a mindblowing $60 for students...so now the tricky part...paying the $600+/- airfare. Well, originally, I was only supposed to spend $250 max on Boxing Day, but those boots were meant for me, so I'm down to no money to put towards the flight. You might ask yourself if me temping while in Grad school is a smart idea...well, it's not my first choice, but this semester, I've lined up a Monday nights only class, and a 10-day intensive course in April, so I will have the time to work at the start of January to pay for the trip to Ottawa.

I will also have to go back in March to find an apartment for May. Someone suggested I have a friend look for me, but in truth, after my bad experience this summer, I can't take the chance of leaving a big decision like a place to live to someone who doesn't know me well enough to know my insane standards. At least I know which parts of town I want to live in, so I'm ahead of the game on that account. But yeah, the enormity of this move is not lost on me. Moving from Yellowknife to Edmonton is small potatoes, because I just bought the furniture in Edmonton. From Edmonton to Vancouver was a little trickier, because we were moving our stuff, but it was really within a day's drive. This time, the challenge is moving stuff across this enormous country...I suppose this is practice for the day when it's time to drop everything and move across an ocean!

Pop Psychology

2009-12-19T16:20:00.003-05:00

Toward the end of Grade 11, my English teacher pulled out a bit of fun for us that was really un-English related; he had us pull out a sheet of paper and asked us five questions. We were to write down our answers to these questions.

1. What is your favourite wild animal and why?
2. What is your favourite domesticated animal and why?
3. Scenario: you are on a beach. It's night time, and the star is filled with stars and a soft moon, and the waves are crashing. There's a gentle breeze, but it's warm. How do you feel?
4. Scenario: you are in a white room, filled with white light. Everything is white. How do you feel?
5. What is your favourite food and why?

Well, we eagerly took to this task, because it was obviously not school or homework. And 14.5 years later, I still remember my answers:

1. Chinchillas because they are wild and cheeky
2. Chinchillas because they are soft and cheeky
3. I feel calm, at peace.
4. I feel dead.
5. Steak, because it's hot, thick and juicy, and it lasts so damn long.

And then came the joke; this was one of those fun little pop psychology quizzes where each question means something, and how you respond means something. Now, the embarrassing part is that the teacher asked us to share our answers for a question, and then he told us what the questions/responses meant. I was doing alright until the last question.

1. Your favourite wild animal and its qualities symbolizes how you want people to see you.
Alright...not bad.

2. Your favourite domesticated animal and its qualities symbolize how people actually see you.
Okay, so the cheeky thing is a reality, I get it.

3. How you feel about the night beach scene symbolizes how you see life.
Alright, mentally well-adjusted answer! Bonus!

4. How you feel about the all-white scenario symbolizes how you feel about marriage.
Oh...loss of bonus points. Uhh...do-over?

5. Your favourite food and why symbolizes what you think about sex.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! DO OVER! DO OVER!

Pop psychology is a sham!

Holidays 2009

2009-12-18T16:01:00.002-05:00

So far, I have to admit, the holiday season this year is completely underwhelming, if not nearly non-existent. The situation I'm currently involved in has impacted the holiday cheer this year, as well as the fact that I'm broker than usual this year. I've got most of the presents sorted, but really have to stretch my imagination to finish.

Also, my birfday this year was a downer. I woke up at 5 am because I was obsessed with finding the program from my gramma's funeral; I was caught up in my grief this year. This year marked the 8th birfday without her, but this year's events magnified all the more the hole left in my life without her. I'm lost, and even though I've started to find my way back to Me, I couldn't help but wish that I had Gramma to talk to one last time. I went on my yearly trip down to Washington state, did the shopping thing, and then I came home and went for dinner with Jette and Rod. We went to one of my favourite places, Trattoria Italian Kitchen in Kitsilano, and followed it up with a stop at True Confections and a drive through Stanley Park. All in all, a very quiet day.

And then I went home and promptly succumbed to a cold that nearly sent me to the emergency room. A cold itself wouldn't do this, but I managed to injure myself in a way such that I couldn't breathe properly for three days. I'm happy to say I'm well on my way to recovery, but wow did that hurt.

In the meantime, I've been passing the time with an old passion of mine. This year, I was blessed with a muse, and have taken up writing again. Since June this year, I've written or completed more than 30 poems, and countless letters and prose (though the letters and prose never saw the light of day...because of their intensely personal content, most of those have been burned). Except for a brief period in 2002, and a handful of occasion-specific works, I haven't written like this since 1999. And after a decade away, it's delightful to be back to writing. Of course, it does require that I explore myself and the world around me in ways that can be painful, but there is a sophistication in the pieces that I've never been able to express before. And of course a lot of the new stuff is relationship and love-related, meaning it's likely going to be viewed as drivel...but who cares! Poetry is meant to express yearning and feeling!

In the meantime, because I've been sick, I've been ignoring my capstone. Bad, I know, considering I have to have a monster chunk of it done by January 4th (my analysis), but I blame it on the cold, and will spend all of next week up to Friday plowing through it. Yeah...that will increase my holiday spirit.

I'll leave you with this video. This version of this song sums up where I am this holiday season: facing the season with uncertainty, but looking to next year with hope.

News Embargo

2009-12-06T21:18:00.003-05:00

I've been very quiet as of late. Outside of publicizing my survey and a procrastination/writer's block post, I've been unable to spend much time on this blog. It's not about time constraints, although those are a definite reality in Grad School. The problem is that I am constrained by privacy. I've been struggling with some potentially-life-altering issues, and in the interest of protecting the other people involved, I decided to temporarily embargo my posts. This is because the news affects more than myself, and people close to me still aren't in the know.

Don't worry, there are no health problems, no criminal issues, no life-or-death issues; when I believe that discussing what's going on is okay, I will share that part of my journey with readers. Until then, I don't know how much I'll be able to share here, and what I write here may seem either distant or shallow. I ask your patience while things are sorted out.

Organ Donation Survey

2009-11-30T22:56:00.002-05:00

Dear Readers:

My survey is now closed. Thank you for your participation!

Fancy

What if

2009-11-18T01:37:00.002-05:00

'What if' is the eternal trap. It can lead to incredible innovation, to hope, to possibilities becoming realities. In its most optimistic form, 'what if' propels humanity forward.

But 'what if' has such a dark side that has the power to destroy. Conversely, hope becomes doubt, innovation becomes ruin, and possibility becomes regret. In the wrong hearts and minds, 'what if' can be destructive and devastating.

Somewhere in between live people, who must dare to ask that question, for some reason.

National Survey on attitudes and knowledge about Organ Donation, Canada

2009-11-17T14:33:00.003-05:00

Dear Readers:

As part of the requirements of my Master’s of Public Policy degree at Simon

Fraser University, I am currently engaged in research for my final Capstone policy paper.

I am inviting you to participate in a confidential, online survey on the topic of organ donation rates in

Canada

. This survey is looking for people living in Canada who are 19 years of age or older to participate; the survey does contain questions involving residency and age in order to meet the criteria of the sample being sought.

There are 66 separate questions in the survey. If you are interested in participating, more information and the survey can be found at: Please note that your participation is entirely voluntary.

As well, if you know of others who may be interested in participating in this survey, you may forward them the link to the online survey. If you are interested in doing that, here is suggested text, which you may use in your email to your contacts:

“An acquaintance of mine who is a graduate student in the Public Policy Program at Simon Fraser University is currently engaged in research for her Capstone thesis. This research includes a confidential online survey of people living in

Canada

. There are 66 separate questions in the survey. If you live in

Canada

, are 19 years of age and older, and are interested in participating, more information and the survey can be found at: . Please note that your participation is entirely voluntary.”

Thank you.

Capstone me to death

2009-10-19T14:58:00.002-04:00

Let he who is without sin(gle clue about Grad School), cast the first (cap)stone (at my head).

Well, I've been busy...mostly avoiding my capstone, but this weekend, I was forced to confront it, as I am way behind on gathering my data. This is your warning...in the coming weeks, the blog will be blitzed by a campaign to get people 19 years of age and older who live in Canada to take a survey on organ donation. Look for a more formal announcement in the coming weeks.

PS - did I mention that I'm also drowning in course work, which I avoided too?

Bad student! VERY BAD STUDENT!

5 Year-iversary

2009-10-02T18:39:00.002-04:00

Today marks the five year anniversary of this blog.

Five years ago, on October 2, 2004, I wrote in reference to what "Now What?" meant:

"Well, it can be a very complicated question to answer. Now what? I'm never sure of how to answer it, so I do what anyone else bouncing from one uncertainty to the next would do...I avoid answering the question. Indeed, I avoid thinking about it as much as possible. Does this make me sound bad in any way? Well, stick around I guess. We'll see how I get through life."

And I clearly wasn't wrong...it is a very complicated question to answer. Over the last few years, I've taken a few stabs at trying to answer it directly, but for the most part, I've let the story tell itself in answer to that question.

Well, some things stay the same. And others change. I still bounce from one uncertainty to the next...this is my very nature, my modus operandi. I let my life happen to me, which is evidenced by my ability to leap before looking (hence the bouncing from one uncertainty to the next); but in the past several years, I've become a stronger woman with fewer insecurities, and lesser worries. So this bodes well for leaping first. And yet, I've taken some serious control of my life. I don't mind giving up control of the day-to-day to Fate, which affords me the many chances to go off half-cocked (or not cocked at all, in some instances); this is fun! But where and when it counts, I'm in control, and I'm formidable.

But talk about change! A significant change that I could never have envisioned my present life five years ago, for instance. It wouldn't have occurred to me to believe I could be in Grad School in Vancouver, and married to Rod. I was hitting my stride as a student yes, but I wasn't 'Grad Studies Material'; and Rod was so passionately against marrying me that I seriously questioned what we were even doing together. So it's taken a series of intricately linked 'Now whats' to reach the present, which you could see by looking back over the years in the blog.

But there is something that will never, ever change, and that is my need to explore. It is my raison d'être. Every 'Now what' that pops up requires finding an answer, shallow or profound, or at the very least, a direction to move in. And it will never stop. 'Now what?' is a question that won't end until I do, and even then, I suspect I'm just "Fancy" enough to have left behind some business that forces the question into the minds of those left living with my legacy.

So...you know what's coming...

Now what?

The Right Time

2009-09-27T12:39:00.003-04:00

I finally sat down with a book I've been meaning to read for about three years now.

Leonard Cohen's Book of Longing has been on my radar since it came out, but there was always some reason why I didn't buy it: I was broke, I had to spend the money on other books, I couldn't find it, I was broke, etc. Well, last night, I finally said "fuck it, just do it...the visa bill will take care of itself (won't it?)."

I'm glad I waited until now for two reflexive reasons: 1) the poignancy might have been lost if I had read this book at a different time in my life; and 2) I've reached a crossroads again in my life, and this book has given me food for thought.

I could have simply enjoyed this book at any other time, but having read it now, when I am experiencing so much change, both professionally and personally, Cohen's words seem to be written specifically for some parts of my metamorphosis. They are his words for his experiences, but I feel I can claim those words for my own experiences; they aren't universal writings, and many can't relate, but I see a depth, I see him writing what I want to express, which allows me to legitimately claim them as part of my experience.

Read this book if you want (and you haven't already), but experience this book if you can.

Day 3: my captors mean business...

2009-09-16T16:07:00.002-04:00

Any interest in knowing what my Capstone project will be this year?

(A Capstone is like a thesis, but with a few differences)

Well, the topic will be an analysis of the problem of low organ and tissue donation rates in Canada. But deconstructing the meaning of "what my Capstone project will be", in the deeper sense, it will be my life for the next 8 months. Oh sure, there are classes too, and theoretically speaking, a personal life, but to be honest, nothing in my life comes close to comparing to the size and scale of this project.

Wish me luck. If you don't hear from me after April 2010, consider it death by Grad School! ;)

Someday, she'll change...

2009-09-11T14:12:00.003-04:00

I'm a 30 year old woman, but I get the same sympathetic treatment as a 15 year old...pat me on my head, give me that 'knowing' look, and think "Oh, some day she'll learn, some day, she'll understand."

This response is typical, if not entirely consistent whenever the topic of...what...being "grown up" I guess is the nearest approximation, comes up. And at 30, it's coming up so much more. I'm 30 and married, so that should mean that I want kids soon, and a home, and a reliable, safe vehicle, and a solid retirement investment portfolio combined with a solid pension. Right?

Wrong.

Look, that dream's great. It's served many boys and girls well, including some of my dearest friends and family. But it's not one size fits all, and it certainly doesn't fit me. I'm not dissing that dream (at least not trying to), but I can honestly say that I've never seen myself there. Not even as a little girl, playing house with my friends. In most situations, I was the dad or the kid, mostly because my friends didn't like me being the mom (I wasn't good at it).

My Gramma told me once that I had to find my own path in life and believe that I belonged there, and I've learned so much about myself, including the fact that my path wasn't meant to run through sweet, safe suburbia. People are currently looking at me a little sideways when I express doubts about going back to Ottawa, because they know I'm walking away from a safe bet complete with a nice pension and sweet benefits. Well, at least it's a little relief from the usual, which is getting those looks for expressing my desire to remain childless.

Trust me...a wise old Capricorn once said "Once you accept the fact that happiness is not all it's cracked up to be, you can be perfectly happy." I accepted it in terms of my lack of enthusiasm for the North American Dream, and I've been the happiest woman I know for years! I appreciate everyone's concern, but it's misguided. I have a plan...it's just a different one, and it's the one that ensures that I am living my life to what I consider to be its fullest.

The one where she's surrounded by sickos

2009-08-30T18:15:00.003-04:00

Welcome back to the new season of Fancy.

To catch fans up on what they missed during the summer hiatus, I'll provide this summary:

Fancy went to Ottawa, had an adventure with many highs and lows (more lows really), and came back.

I left Ottawa yesterday afternoon, in the pisspouring rain; it was a dismal day and it didn't do a lot to improve my mood about leaving. As you may have known, I've been living at Etienne's for the last three weeks, a refugee from a bedbug infested Hippie Hellhole.

All had been well until last week, when Etienne started to get sick. Really sick. We suspect H1N1, as his symptoms all matched, but there's no way to confirm it without him paying. He's a Swiss citizen, without work benefits until he's officially bridged in to the Federal government, and he's just finished his master's so he's not covered by his university plan, so he's not covered by any health plan. And given that he's practically a student still, he's not exactly in the position to spend a lot of money visiting a doctor and getting prescriptions or receiving treatment. Sucks for him. And I've been looking after him like a good little pseudo-roommate, so I was anxious to be leaving him yesterday, knowing he's still not well.

I'm happy to be back home, in a world that makes sense to me, but guess what? Rod's sick! I literally left one sick man for another!

So, you may be wondering how it is that I'm not complaining about being sick, given my substantial exposure to the flu (Saralee at work also has it). My only possible explanation is that I was quite sick this spring, and it must have been the milder version of H1N1. Because there's just no way I should be okay! My immune system is generally regarded as lazy and useless...a cheese-eating surrender monkey, as Steve might say. So the only answer I have is that I have the immunities :) Even if it's not H1N1, I've lucked out and gotten whatever these people have early enough that I shouldn't be in bad shape to start school soon.

The End is Nigh!

2009-08-18T19:12:00.000-04:00

It's been a strange couple of weeks in Ottawaland. First of all, I'll start with the fact that I'm no longer living in the hippie hellhole.

"But Fancy, where are you if not in hippie hellhole?"

That's an excellent question, thank you for asking. I'm living at Etienne's. He took pity on me after seeing all of the old blood stains on my sheets, and took me in, despite his desire to be alone.

"Umm, what old blood stains? What's going on?"

Aww, I'm touched by your concern. The truth is that I discovered what I had suspected all along, from the first night in hippie hellhole: Bedbugs. Yes, the little bastards have been feeding on the premium quality sanguine-goodness of yours truly all summer. I found a couple when I took the sheets off my bed to wash them. It was only a few days later that I fled the apartment for the safety and comfort of Etienne's apartment. And it's a good thing too. One of my roommates decided to throw out the futon I've been sleeping on, and when he took apart the frame, he found about a thousand of the little bastards all holed-up in the cozy wood nooks. It was a truly disgusting thing to hear about, so I can only image the sight of it.

It's only for a short time though, since I'm homeward bound after the 28th! INAC is releasing me for good behaviour, and I will be home soon, petting my cats and swatting my husband away from me ;)

I admit to mixed feelings when I go. I've gotten to be close with people here, and not seeing them on a daily or weekly basis will suck. But who knows what the future holds, and there's a good chance I'll return to the NCR, like any other repeat offender...back in the custody of the Feds.

Amelioration

2009-08-03T18:50:00.000-04:00

It's been nearly a month, and in that time, I've been alternating between busy and...sleep. That statement *could* be taken to mean that I am busy AND I sleep a lot, and you'd be forgiven for making that mistake. But what it means is that I've been so busy that I have no time to do everything, and my only respite is about 6-7 hours of sleep a night!

In truth, I was insanely busy at work in July. Things took an unexpected turn, and the pressure was on all of us in the ADMO to rise to the occasion and deal with it. This was a team clusterfuck, and it was handled incredibly well. And that's all I'm going to (and allowed to) say about that.

Now, given that the word going around is that I've turned into a party animal (alcoholic), I feel I need to clarify just what's going on in my life that makes it sound worse than it actually is!

About this drinking. The fact of the matter is that my "schedule" breaks down like this:

1. On Wednesdays, I go to Trivia night at a pub with Etienne and his friends. While there, I restrict myself to 1-2 beers because it's nice to unwind, and because I know I have to work on Thursdays.

2. Fridays...well, Fridays have always been 'Cut Loose' days for me. Fridays are my day to drink and really have fun and enjoy feeling younger than I actually am. So I don't restrict myself on Fridays, and given that so many others don't either, I don't see the need to.

3. Saturdays. If I'm doing anything on Saturdays, it's usually low key such as movies, dinner, or just hanging out and spending the night chatting over a (shared) bottle of wine, or a beer or two. I place this restiction on myself unless there is a particular occasion, and even then, I'm usually good about sticking to it.

So you might think, "well geez, that's three nights a week!" But I see it as being no different than those who have a glass of wine every day or something like that. I'm not ragingly slobberknockered on the corner every night, which is what it sounds like when I hear people addressing their concerns to me. The most important thing to me is that I am in control, and I am capable of deciding where my line is. It's really not often I get really drunk because I know I'm usually at the centre of trouble when that happens.

So fret not, dear friends and family. Fancy maintains control over herself and her life, but she's not opposed to enjoying her life either.

In fact, I spend a lot of time alone. When I'm not working or handling the Wednesday/Friday/Saturday night events, I'm usually at home, in my room, or I'm out walking around alone. I spend a lot of time alone, contemplating, writing, and just spending time sorting out a lot of the issues that are involved in being in Ottawa alone.

They have made it clear that they are holding my position for me at INAC. It's mine to take it or leave it. But moving to Ottawa is not only not a part of my life plan, it's also likely to create a lot of complications for Rod and myself.

The thing I dread most is that this life and this place will suck me in and kill the life I've been working towards for the past seven years. It took me longer than most to figure out that I was not only intelligent, but that I was good enough to go after those huge challenges in life and not be afraid of failure. I'm a risky bet, and you can always count on one thing: settling is just about the most dangerous thing a woman like me can do. It's a well-documented fact that when I settle, I get bored, when I get bored, I get into trouble, and when I get into trouble, it's a spectacular mess! It's just my nature.

So forget the drinking. The drinking is not even on my radar as an issue, and if I wasn't so frustrated about having to explain myself, I'd laugh about it being an issue for people. I've got bigger dragons to slay!

Wanted: Peace and Clarity!

2009-07-06T11:05:00.002-04:00

Southern Ontario has officially driven me to the brink of madness.

It's not just the fact that stuff here closes early, or stays closed on holidays or Sundays. It's not the insanely manic weather that doesn't know if it wants to be sticky hot or briskly cold. And it's not the job.

It's the lack of control over my life! Without a car, I'm at the mercy of buses, or friends who make me walk everywhere (you know who you are, and you know how many blisters and blister scars I have). I'm without Rod, I spent most of June broke, and I'm in a strange situation where I'm hypersensitive to being alone. My friends out here have done wonderful work in trying to keep me out of trouble (i.e. keep me busy!), but there's no one around at night to stop my overactive mind! Well, no one except an exceptionally large sucky-cat named Duffy :)

Maggie, my roommate, got a cat, and not just any cat! Duffy is a 20 lb ball of love. He was found abandoned in a Duffel bag in the middle of a park in January in Montreal. He'd been there long enough to melt the snow under the bag. And when I think of that story, it makes me incredibly angry and sad, but he's in a home now where he will be well-loved and cared for, and Maggie and Kai will never do anything so horrible as to just throw him away like that. And the little Duffster has taken to sleeping with me because he's quite rambunctious at night, and Maggie's a light sleeper, so she's had to shut the door on him. Not that I mind, since my cats at home sleep with me too.

I've also expanded my horizons (and taken in some big ones) by going to Toronto the weekend before Canada Day. It was the Toronto Pride Parade weekend, and I couldn't bear the idea of going without a Pride Parade this year. Being in Ottawa means I will be missing the fabulous parade in Vancouver, and guess what? The Ottawa parade takes place the day *after* I leave Ottawa. So when I saw the Toronto Pride Parade date, I twisted Steve's rubber arm into accompanying me to TO for some sightseeing (and what a sight it was!). I stayed at Gail's, and met the Castor Kids, Xena and Beano, who were incredibly cute, and reminded me of my own wee tyrants. I dragged Steve up the CN tower, and around the downtown area. And on Sunday, we stood soaking in the rain, waiting for the Parade.

The Good News: it stopped raining 5 minutes before the parade started. But I still got wet, as the spot we picked was beside a large contingent of gay men with those massive-tank supersoakers, with the pumps, and the water war was on with those in the parade also armed with water. It was a great time, and I fell in love/lust at least 4 times over the course of two hours.

The Bad News: I didn't get to do any shopping really, because Gail and Steve conspired to keep me away from the trendy, expensive sights. Brats.

Almost immediately upon my return, it was Canada Day, and they like to throw a lot of parties around here (something about being the Nation's capital or something *shrug*). I started the party on Tuesday night with Etienne, and managed to drink just enough that when I woke up after about 3 hours "sleep" (READ: passed out), I was still a little drunk when I went to meet Donavan, Adrian and Sally. We spent the day wandering from place to place in search of drinks, though I went dry for the day, given the condition that I started it in. But I survived until the Fireworks, and went home, happy to say that I did the Fete du Canada Ottawa-style.

Almost immediately after that, Rod rolled into town on his way back from Florida, and we've had a weekend filled with walking and walking and...walking :) I took him to see some sights, and a little shopping. I'll be sad to see him leave tomorrow, since it looks like I won't be returning to Vancouver as planned in July. Great...something else to ponder!

Ottawa, give me a break!

Ottawa...take three

2009-06-24T02:00:00.002-04:00

I'm still not going to commit.

Ottawa and I have improved our relationship marginally, but it's largely due to the people I'm hanging with and meeting. I've seen a few more sites, such as the Diefenbunker, Industry Canada, and the newly build Ismaili Centre (simply magnificent!), as well as the auditorium of the National Art Gallery, but it's the people that are making this experience easier.

Steve and I have become good friends. He's a solid guy, if somewhat more reserved than I am...or a lot more, but he's a willing listener, and his temperment allows for both the lighter side of life and laughing, as well as the more complex, heart-to-heart kind of stuff. Plus, he never discourages me from taking the chance to party :D

I haven't seen as much of Donavan as I should, but we're both busy being social and keeping our lives together. It's been awesome to catch up with him, move into the "friend" category again (if only briefly, cheeky monkey!), and again, solid, great to talk to and drink with :)

Maggie, the roommate, has been so easy to live with! So easy in fact, I feel bad when I disturb her with my night owl ways, which I think is frequently. I also don't do dishes like I should, but so far, we're getting along well.

As for newcomers to the cast of Fancy's life, well...it's been fun! They tend to be French (or at least French-speaking), and they all tolerate my maddeningly depressing unilingualism. I've also learned that I am something of a dish for men from West Africa here. There are plenty of them, and as flattering as it may be, it's a dish they'll have to forego. But three deserve honourable mentions, if for no other reason, they have proven to be delightful companions;

Adrienne, a friend of Donavan's, is hilarious. Almost as soon as we met, we took to each other like flirty peas and carrots (with Rod's approval). He's a witty guy, he spazzes flirtatious energy, and he's not afraid to be like that with me just because I'm married. In fact, I think it takes a lot of the pressure off of most situations; being married lets the guys know they don't have to impress me, so they can just be cool friends.

Brandon, a friend of Steve's, is sharp! He may be an "econonerd", but he's got a wit and intellect that is impressive. He picks up on jokes, and carries them on to a natural conclusion, without belabouring something. Plus, he's astutely picked up on the subtleties involved in "Chair Farming".

And Etienne, a coworker of a classmate. He's world weary and unapologetic about it, and he's got some excellent taste in music, books and movies :) As he's spent some time abroad, he's got a different take on life than most people I know, and even if I don't agree with him, he's got a way of arguing so that it will never turn personal. He's easy to talk to and carry on sophisticated conversation, but I can see a naughty child wanting to break loose sometimes :)

I've met so many people, but for now, those are the latest to join in my adventures! Plus, it's crazy-late, and I need to sleep off some of the liquor ;)

The Dark Side

2009-06-16T21:13:00.002-04:00

I've been fighting a lot of demons lately. Old scars from days long past have crept into my subconscious, and have started to make their way into my consciousness.

I realized that this is the first time I've been alone and isolated since those terrible days that drove me away from my life as I had known (and planned) it. I've had family and boyfriends around me all the time since then, with the exception of the month that Rod spent in Australia, and my parents moved to the Island. I've prided myself on being made of tough stuff, but only now am I starting to suspect that it's easy to be tough when you know at the end of the day, you'll go home to some unconditional love and support. It's an entirely different beast to slay when your scared and there are no comforting arms to take you in and calm you down.

It's made its way into my dreams, and I see it all over again, and the fear still elicits the same response: my throat begins to close, and I'm drowning in panic again...wondering how it ever could have happened, and why is it coming back now. And the terrifying part about it is that I can't talk about it. This secret haunts me; no one currently playing supporting roles in my life is aware of it, so I feel like I'm being strangled by the silence I'm bound to keep because inviting them into that part of my life is scary, and gives them the power to judge me differently then they already have. My facade is starting to crack, revealing someone I haven't introduced to anyone in so many years, I'd managed to forget that she existed until recently.

I've done some truly ugly things in my life. Being caught up in that time and place...I suppose I haven't forgiven myself, and even worse, I'm starting to be paranoid that those actions may have caused problems for other people involved, and if that's the case, I've just increased the size of the cross I've been bearing, and yet desperately trying to shed.

I'd give my weight in gold to trade this fear and anxiety for a nice healthy neuroses like weight-consciousness.

The Detroit Red Wings

2009-05-31T16:55:00.002-04:00

Disclaimer: If you're not a hockey fan, you're going to get bored with this one.

Last night, Game 1 of the Stanley Cup finals started off at the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit. My Red Wings battled their way to the finals against the Pittsburgh Penguins for the second year in a row.

Let the media/fan hate-on begin.

All day today, the net and facebook have been crawling with people complaining about everything from the springy sideboards at the Joe to the fact that Detroit "always makes it to the playoffs". Give me a fucking break!

The Detroit Red Wings went 41 years without a cup. Their dry spell went from the 1954-55 win to the 1995-96 win. That's more than 4 decades...I'd hardly call that "always making it to the playoffs". In fact, they had some really bad years in there. So how did the organization rebound? By building the best strategy of hard work, talent, and persistence. This is an organization that went out and got the fans, got the players, got the scouting, coaching and support staff, and got over itself.

The players coming into this organization learn very quickly to tame the ego, because it's all about the work ethic. It's about being solid, not flashy. To demonstrate my point, I raise the name Steve Yzerman, the man also known as the Quiet Superstar. He embodied what about this team makes them deserving of their Stanley Cup wins in the last 15 years: hard working, adaptable, contributing points, great with quick thinking. If he didn't have a shot, he passed off to someone who did, he wasn't out to earn a points tally, he was out so his team could win the game. And he was an incredible hockey player to boot. And I saw the writing on the wall...when Steve was getting ready to retire, he took young Pavel Datsyuk under his wing, and to his credit, Pavel is on his way to becoming the same kind of superstar.

Just ask Chris Osgood. As the goalie at the helm during the 95-96 and 96-97 seasons, he thought he was Da Bomb. He went elsewhere with that big ego, and learned a lesson in humility: one superstar a winning season does not make. Now he's older, wiser, and back in the lineup, and committed to being on the hardest working team in the NHL.

So given all of this, I scream and pull my hair out trying to understand why the media and hockey fans are so brutal with their hate-on for the Red Wings? Take a cue from the players in the league: they might not like playing against the Red Wings, but every one of them admits to having respect for this team, for their work ethic, both on and off the ice. So show some respect for that!

Warning: cynical rant ahead.

Actually, I know why the media's doing it: Sidney Crosby, the darling pet of the NHL is back for a second chance...everyone loves a show pony. But someday, he'll understand why he's no Gretzky or Howe; his whining earns him no respect. But for now, he's the new face of the league, and the sponsors wet themselves to get him. The media follows him like a heartsick puppy because sponsors do. It's sad really. And in the meantime, they are willing to slag one of the best teams in hockey to earn those advertising dollars. Jerks.

Ottawa, for real

2009-05-26T18:04:00.003-04:00

Well, I've been here just shy of three weeks, and so far my scorecard looks like this:

-Pints consumed: oh hell, lost track after the first 3...I'll conservatively estimate....30?
-Landmarks seen: two. One part of the Civ Museum in Gatineau, and a lovely stroll along the canal.
-Number of complaints about the lack of a real beer selection: ongoing...into the hundreds by now.
-Nice weather days: 5. 3 if you count days where I wasn't complaining about the wind.
-Zellers visted: 3. Amazing how I have to go to three different stores to get just basic items.
-Number of stores that don't carry ichiban noodles: All of them. I think I managed to get the last package in the National Capital Region.
-Training sessions done: 1. 3 hours of my life I'll never get back.

Ottawa is not a city I plan on relocating to for the long term, ever. Or the short term, for that matter. Everyone here assumes:

-that you want brown bread, brown pasta, brown rice. What ever happened to wanting good taste in your food?
-that you love the outdoors and can't wait for the weekend to go out and climb something, row something or own a two-wheeled transportation device. For the record, the only thing I climb is bar stools, I don't know anyone with a boat (but I did just meet someone with a canoe), and putting me on a bike is the stupidest thing since...well, the last time I had a biking accident!
-that you want a career in the Federal Public Service. Look folks, that's swell, but to me, it's soulless, and I'd rather complain about the weather somewhere else and still love what I'm doing enough to stay.
-that you drink Alexander Keith's or Rickard's. Literally...the beer menu in most places jumps from Molson Canadian to Alexander Keith's to Guiness. It's like everyone's taste buds died upon entry into the NCR. (add one more to the beer complaints tally).
-that you are strange for not accepting the natural order. "What do you mean, you don't want to move to Ottawa, work for the Feds, get married, buy a house and have kids before you're 30?!?"

Don't get me wrong, Ottawa's got some charms when it comes to visiting, but I've never been drawn to this life, and I'm not having an inkling about changing my mind on that score.

So there. I'll keep you posted throughout the summer, as things are bound to improve once I start making friends...and forays into Toronto, Montreal, and curiously...cottage country.

The Prettiest Dirty Song Ever

2009-05-16T18:07:00.002-04:00

Is it a stretch to call 'Crash into Me' by the Dave Matthews Band the prettiest dirty song ever? Well, maybe, but I've had 30 years to sort through a lot of music, and thus far, nothing has proved to be nearly as evocative or provocative.

Melodically, it's such a delightful mix: vaguely militaristic drums against a yearning guitar line, intertwined with a deep bass line. This rhythm is complimented by the occasional hint of violin that just adds to the yearning of the guitar. Altogether, it would almost sound...this is a bit ridiculous, but take away the vocals, and the song sounds like the prettiest backdrop for a love song at a hoedown.

The vocals of Dave Matthews are imploring, alternating between raspy and milky, and let's not forget that falsetto. His vocals start out so softly, sweetly, then rise and crescendo at the end of the song...you hear how bad he wants the girl. So pretty.

And then you stop and pay attention to the lyrics...they are lustful, oozing the raw sexual energy of a young man who wants the girl so bad, it's driving him to distraction. All he can think is what the girl from 'a boys dream' could do, or rather what he would do to her if given the chance. It's sexual desire dressed in pretty poetry. And that's what makes it such an artistic feat...this song isn't a performance looking for adulation, it's an artistic expression of nature's most basic urges.

It's likely just me who thinks this is the case, but listen to the song and read the lyrics, and then see if you can't see and hear the pretty pervertedness:

Crash into Me by Dave Matthews Band

You've got your ball
You’ve got your chain
Tied to me tight tie me up again
Who's got their claws
In you my friend
Into your heart I'll beat again
Sweet like candy to my soul
Sweet you rock
And sweet you roll
Lost for you I'm so lost for you
You come crash into me
And I come into you,
I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream

Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows so
I'm bare-boned and crazy for you
When you come crash
Into me, baby
And I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream
If I've gone overboard
Then I'm begging you
To forgive me
In my haste
When I'm holding you so girl...
Close to me

Oh and you come crash
Into me, baby
And I come into you
Hike up your skirt a little more
And show the world to me
Hike up your skirt a little more
And show your world to me
In a boys dream... In a boys dream

Oh I watch you there
Through the window
And I stare at you
You wear nothing but you
Wear it so well
Tied up and twisted,
The way I'd like to be
For you, for me, come crash
Into me

Lyrics taken from the Dave Matthews Band website.

Ottawa

2009-05-16T18:05:00.002-04:00

You're dying to know what I think about Ottawa. But I have to keep you waiting.

I'm still getting my bearings, geographically and emotionally. This means I can't tell you what I think of Ottawa because I hardly know myself. Sit tight. It'll sort itself out.

Note to Alberta, Part Two: Sex is real, move on.

2009-05-04T16:42:00.003-04:00

Update: Sorry folks, Evolution stays, but the sex is still fair game!

The Minister responsible for Human Rights in Alberta has clarified that Bill 44 does not apply to evolution lessons because it's a science curriculum item, not a religious studies curriculum item. So yeah, sorry Dave Hancock, but you come out looking like an idiot on that call (but not really sorry...).

However, oh joy, sex is still on the table for parents to make that judgment call. I will reiterate my earlier comments about my concerns for the social development of youths, and add to them by stating my support for common-sense sex education for teens. I read somewhere recently that rates of teens having sex was dropping anyways, which is good enough news, but I still advocate for sex education as a strong back up.

Look, the fact of the matter is that we are supposed to be teaching kids and teens to use their reasoning and decision-making skills with increasing responsibility for themselves and their actions. Is it responsible for adults to then abstain from providing pertinent information necessary for teens to make smart decisions regarding sex and sexuality? No, it's not responsible. Teens are smart, so let's stop treating them like 4 year olds. Speak to them in a way that reaching their maturity level!

And yes, my ire still smarts over this even being slipped into human rights education. This kind of lunacy is in no other human rights legislation in any jurisdiction. What the F*^# is it doing in Alberta's legislation extending human rights to homosexuals in that province?? It's still going through the backdoor, and it's still grossly unnecessary. Not to mention redundant...directives like this education piece already exist in the Department of Education. But that's a whole other slice of cake.

Mmmmmm....cake....

Out.

Note to Alberta: Evolution is real. Move on.

2009-04-30T21:24:00.002-04:00

Conservatives strike again!

The government of Alberta isn't necessarily backwards, so why would they insist on making the province appear to be?

In this day and age, and in this country even, I'm hard-pressed to find examples of successful evolution-deniers; by and large, Canadians accept that evolution is the most logical, most realistic explanation for how things on Earth and in the Universe have developed. Many Canadians will attribute responsibility for evolution to a god/dess or some deity, so be it. I can't argue that, though I personally disagree.

But we are talking about students in PUBLIC schools, where the curriculum is guided by conventional wisdom. My concern with parents being allowed to pull their kids from classes talking about evolution or homosexuality is that the move will have detrimental impacts both on the children's social development, as well as the dialogue about differences among people in an open and free society. Ultimately, the kids pulled out of these classes will find themselves in opposition to the majority of their peers...something teenagers do not abide well.

I feel quite strongly that youth need to be taught to think about all sides of a problem, issue or question; I belong to the school of thought that it is wiser to know your opponents and their arguments so that you can be prepared to counter each point. You may not like, agree or tolerate their position, but awareness breeds strength of your position. So it bothers me that parents want to take away their kids' chance to develop a particularly valuable skill. To me, that's the value of public school: it's a place that exposes youths to the variety they will inevitably encounter in Canada's quite heterogeneous society.

But there's a far more insidious plot at work here, and it's the more worrisome part of the story if you ask me(this is my personal bias at work now, not the policy wonk in me); if you skimmed, or missed it, I will explain...or rather, I suppose the second paragraph of the article will...

The new rules, which would require schools to notify parents in advance of "subject-matter that deals explicitly with religion, sexuality or sexual orientation," is buried in a bill that extends human rights to homosexuals. Parents can ask for their child to be excluded from the discussion.

This is the kind of move that is designed to breed backdoor opposition to homosexuality. Hiding the(un)education policy in a bill meant as an extension of human rights to homosexuals allows for the breeding on intolerance to difference that is at the root of so many of our social problems. It's literally an example of one hand giving, with the other hand taking, hoping no one's watching. It's duplicitous in my mind; it's saying "here are the rights you asked for, but watch out, because we're passively promoting opposition to you and your rights."

Furthermore, it's just plain underhanded. Progressive people will not say no to a bill extending human rights to a group that has felt the wrath of ignorant society. But sneaking this bit of regressive policy in there, the government of Alberta is behaving in a manner that is downright shifty and untrustworthy...I will go so far to say Cowardly, even.

And the winner is...

2009-04-29T11:46:00.002-04:00

Well fuck, it was nearly Bangladesh.

On Sunday night, as I was forced to make a decision, I balled a little, talked, checked facts, and in the end, Rod and I made the decision that I would go to Bangladesh. I emailed the professor fixing things at our end, then started to panic because of all that I needed to do before I left. I was also concerned that my visa would be denied because my passport expires later this year...slight oversight on my part (oopsie!). I emailed the office I had an interview with on Monday morning and pulled out, and all I had to do was wait to be contacted by the other job I had already interviewed for, this one in Ottawa.

I had interviewed for a position doing performance measurement analysis; it was ridiculously short, and I babbled. So I wasn't telling myself I got the job just yet, despite what are sure to be incredible references.

So, on Monday I sat. And waited. And waited. They were supposed to notify me on Friday, did I mention that? It's never a good sign when they don't get back to you on time. Finally, just after noon, I got a phone call, but it wasn't exactly what I was expecting!

No, I didn't get the Performance measures position. Instead, my interview was shared with another unit in the Ministry, and the phone call I had received was for a position in an Assistant Deputy Minister's office! Eh?? How's that work?? I had to at least consider it, I mean, it's here in Canada, so Rod and I can at least see each other, and it would be nice to boost the resume by saying I worked in a freakin' ADM's office (currently, my work history is completely useless). I told them I needed about 20 minutes to check with my other opportunity.

I then called the Professor, and it's a good thing I did. It turns out that the people in charge of me while in Bangladesh couldn't accommodate my research project after all. That sucks, because I was only going to go if I had final say in my research project (they were attempting to nudge me towards other projects in education or the Environment). So I guess my decision was made for me...I accepted the position in Ottawa.

Oddly enough, once I made the decision to go to Bangladesh, everyone wanted to talk to me about jobs! Ain't that Murphy's Law! Three months without a sniff, and suddenly, I had this random ADM opportunity, another invitation to short list for another job in Ottawa, and an actual invitation to interview with a third position in Ottawa.

That's okay folks. Options for Doctoral schools pending, I can go back to Bangladesh (or hell, even find my own opportunity) next summer. It seems that Ottawa is calling!

PS - I even managed to find an apartment over the summer within hours of accepting the job offer. Or I should say, the apartment (and roommates) found me!

"I'm a Flibbertigibbit"

2009-04-24T00:43:00.002-04:00

Flibbertigibbet refers to a flighty or whimsical person, usually a young female. It can also mean a gossipy or overly talkative person.

Guilty as charged.

This came to mind tonight after I read a friend's facebook status, where he proclaimed his annoyance at the use of the word "sammich," arguing that the adults using it aren't 5 anymore, it's "sandwich."

I whimsically retorted that I may not be 5 anymore, but I'm irresistably cute when I use the word "Sammich." Plus, a common battle cry around our house, "Get your own damn sammich!" would just sound dumb if it was "sandwich" instead of "sammich." This relates back to Rod shouting it as he shot water from a watergun at his cheeky friends for putting the moves on me. I said it first (though I have no idea anymore where it came from), and he took it to a whole new level.

So no, we're not 5 anymore; but I'm silly and whimsical, and in my world, cute wins out over adult.

Oh, okay, I see now...raining meets pouring

2009-04-21T20:48:00.002-04:00

In case you were jonesing for an update to my madcap adventures in co-opia, I'll leave behind another update.

As of now, co-opia is buzzing with activities near and far. I did a phone interview for a position with INAC in Ottawa this morning; I got an interview with a First Nations' body in West Vancouver next week; I've applied on another INAC job in Ottawa; I'm waiting to hear about a potential interview here with the provincial government; I just got word of an opportunity in Calgary; AND I sent my passport and visa application away for Bangladesh.

So, to sum up:

Interviews done: 1
Interviews set: 1
Jobs applied, no interviews yet: 2
Jobs awaiting application: 1
Jobs in countries halfway around the world in a developing country: 1

I shall be opening the phone, text, facebook and email lines shortly for voting, because honestly, the pros and cons of any of these opportunities makes the choice really difficult.

Potential job locations:

Metro Vancouver: 2
National Capital Region: 2
Calgary: 1
Bangladesh: 1

We'll see which opportunities are whittled down over the course of the next two weeks; in the meantime, I need to learn how to say, "No, I don't like Fish" in French and Bangla. Anyone?

Umm...no really, now what?

2009-04-13T21:21:00.002-04:00

I just sent off the last paper I had to turn in for this semester, capping off my first year of the MPP program.

Up to this moment, my days have been a mix of slendid intellectualism and stress-induced stupidity. Particularly in the last 3 weeks, I have been Karma's bitch, and believe me, Karma's been delivering the smack-hand down on this bitch with eerie accuracy and timing.

Now? I guess I will be doing one of two things:

A) Finding a co-op job (or any kind of job, really); or

B) Packing for Bangladesh.

So, I sit here trying to figure out what my summer will look like, and the obvious question that comes to mind is...now what?

See how clever I was to name this blog "Now What?" Because I live a linear life that can only go forward, nearly everything significant in my life comes with that question.

Okay, I'll shut up and now read a book that does nothing for my intellect.

"Horton hears a Who...by Dr. Seuss...page 1..."

And then there were two...

2009-03-25T17:59:00.002-04:00

My world's on a roll since last night's post!

We got the comments back on a BC government draft report that I've been working on as a part of a class project, and in general, they were quite good. There are some revisions necessary, but I'm relieved that it was positively received. I worked hard on putting it together out of pieces that we all worked on, and it's gratifying to know that all the stress and rushing was all worth it.

On the co-op front, there's been another development. There's been no news on Bangladesh, but CIDA may still be in play in another way. This afternoon, I received word that I was referred to a short list for a summer student position with CIDA in Gatineau, QC. If I get an interview, that would be incredible. So wish me luck with all of this!

Deliberations/Negotiating Self-Interest; or WHAT THE F^*$ SHOULD I DO??

2009-03-24T20:28:00.002-04:00

I may have opened Pandora's box today, and I have no idea what will come of it.

As part of my program, I am required to do thing things: I'm required to do a Co-op work term during the summer, and I'm required to do a Capstone, which is essentially the research project similar to a thesis in other Grad programs. And I've been having no luck progressing on either task; I'm applying on the few jobs there are during these rough economic times, and the job market has not been kind (fewer jobs for the same amount or more students). And the capstone...well, we're supposed to have some thing kinda sketched out (though it's not set in stone) by March 30th. These factors have been a large source of anxiety for me lately. So when opportunities to kill two birds with one (cap)stone, some serious thinking is required. I won't lie to you...this post is more for my benefit that your entertainment.

There may be an opportunity for me to spend the summer semester in Bangladesh. And right now, you're probably raising your eyebrow at the thought of me spending more that 3 months in a country on the Indian Subcontinent. And you wouldn't be wrong in some respects. I'm not known for "roughing it." But you would also be aware of my goals of working on development issues abroad. If you're keeping score, so far we're at 1 pro, 1 con.

The experience would be incredible, and would be the right move for me, careerwise, as most jobs in the international development field want you to have some experience in a development situation.

I'm also a married woman with significant commitments to Rod, our cats, and our life together. I'm basically proposing to go half way around the world without Rod for more than 3 months. No matter what happens in my career, there is no question that my commitment to Rod comes first, now and always, so it's selfish of me to do this, and it's going to be a hardship for him, and for me (one month while he was in Australia was hard enough).

Pros, 2; Cons, 2

The opportunity would mean I'd fulfill my co-op obligations, and the research I would conduct would basically mean my capstone would be half-done by the time I start school in September.

But I'm leaving Rod. Yes, I've mentioned this, but it's the biggest criteria I have to weigh my options with, and it gets more weighting. I'd build you a criteria matrix for options, but I don't think you want me nerding out on you.

Pros, 3; Cons 3*

Of course, all of this is contingent on CIDA giving us funding for this little jaunt, and a part of me is hoping it's a no-go so I won't have to make this really difficult decision. But I guess I need to learn when I need to make those hard decisions, since I'm going into a line of work where I could have the lives of people depending on my decisions.

F^&$!!

If I hadn't approached the prof about this, it would all be just more 'Fancy' imaginings, but I did approach him, and now, I feel like I've put something in motion that is irreversible, and there's no question that if CIDA comes through, I'm bound to make a decision that breaks my heart one way or the other, for different reasons.

I thought I had nothing to say...

2009-02-24T20:59:00.002-05:00

*Pauses for momentary tribute to Michael Corleone*

Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!

*Returns to regularly scheduled posting*

You know, this debate about the content of blogs sort of sticks in my craw (remind me to look up the origins of that phrase some day); I fully understand and accept that there are certain strictures that need to be abided by when it comes to posting content about Work. That's not what bothers me. What bothers me is when I feel like I am not allowed to post about my feelings and perceptions, because it may cost me a job. Responsible blogging is one thing, but living with the fear that I may lose a job (or not even be considered for one) based on what I've written in my blog in the past...that goes beyond responsibility, and I don't mind saying it treads lightly on the line leading to censorship.

It occurs to me now, when I am indeed on the hunt for a co-op job for this summer, that prospective employers can and will google yours truly, and find the unabashed writings and rantings of a big mouth (yes, that's me.), and the institutionalized Grad Student in me creases her brow at the idea that they ~~might~~ will find some reason to skip my name on the interview sheet, without giving me the opportunity to dazzle them with my skills and talents. In other words, I'm back to the same place I was 15 years ago, worrying about what others think of me before they get to know me. And it's completely juvenile.

The big mouth in me arches her eyebrow and says "Talk to me first; if you don't like me after that, C'est la vie." Do I stand by what I've written in my blog? Well, let's put it this way...I'd go mad if I didn't have an outlet for my expressive opinions, and short of doing anyone harm, I see no reason to feel ashamed for what I've written. At the time of each post, I had a good reason, and that's in light of the fact that I'm much more measured and deliberate in my writing than I am in other forms of communication.

My blog is my journey, and I own it. Do I self-censor? You bet! I could say a lot of things (I'm blunt enough to be sure), but I don't because I strive for tact (and record some misses on that account, but such is my nature).

...when I write my blog, it's usually because I have something to say.

If you didn't already know...

2009-02-13T22:04:00.002-05:00

This stupid thing is making the rounds on Facebook, but for some reason I'd rather put it here. Possibly because fewer people read this blog, so there's a pathetic kind of safety in this little measure of anonymity.

So presenting....

25 Things you never knew about me…

1. I was once accused of stealing from a classmate’s family store. Indignant at the accusation, I went back to the store after school to clear things up, only to find out they suspected one of my friends, and my classmate misunderstood.

2. I have a fear and loathing of fish. There’s something so gross and so dead about them, they are an unnatural conspiracy against Planet Earth.

3. I have a scar on the back of my right thigh from a knife wound. A classmate found a knife in the woods behind our school playground, and wanted to see if it was sharp, so he took a swipe at my leg (instead of, you know, a leaf or some grass). We had to walk to his house beside the school to clean and dress the considerable, bloody slash, and lie to his grandfather (a teacher) about how it happened.

4. I once had an audition for the Yellowknife Youth Choir, but I was so terrified about being judged by Bill Gilday, I didn’t show up. If I had, there’s no question I would have gotten in, because my friends did, and I was at least as good as they were.

5. I was accepted to a summer French Immersion program in Quebec, expenses paid, and declined because my boyfriend at the time didn’t want me to go.

6. I was the only kid in my grade 3 class who memorized the entire poem “In Flanders Field” because it was assigned for homework. Talk about brownie points!

7. I was the Grade 6 Trivia Champion, winning the most weekly competitions throughout the year. Too bad my grades weren’t better for it!

8. I was a practicing Wiccan in high school, which set things up for an interesting dynamic…a pagan at a Catholic high school. But my teachers were good sports about it, if my principal wasn’t. As it turned out, Wicca wasn’t for me, as I’ve had this nagging belief that there’s no such thing as a deity since I was 5 years old, taking my first religion classes at school. I reached a point where I just admitted my Atheism, and I’ve been good since.

9. I was scouted by a modeling agent when I was 17, and I turned him down. He was legit, as I later found out, but I was heading off to college in two days, and I was embarrassed by the attention. Flattering, but I always thought I was a bit horsey in the face, and wondered at the time if he was either poor-sighted or prowling. Oh well.

10. There is something in me that finds overly popular trends repellent. I haven’t seen or read Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, and I avoided Brad Pitt, Coldplay, The Spice Girls, etc. I sometimes wonder if I would have been totally turned off by Beatlemania…that would have been a shame.

11. I can fit my whole fist in my mouth. It’s gross, I know.

12. Speaking of genetic oddities, my ring finger is very noticeably shorter than my index finger. The norm is for your ring finger is taller than the index finger, or they are roughly equal height. Oh the things you learn from Northern Studies classes taught by Phys Ed teachers!

13. I used to suffer from a massive inferiority complex. To those who knew me way back in the day, this isn’t new information (it was kinda obvious because of my attempts to over-compensate). It’s less evident now because I’ve grown into my own skin, my own experiences; I’ve stopped seeing myself as inferior, and started seeing myself as at least an equal

14. I have never suffered from eating disorders, contrary to early rumors. If you’ve ever seen pictures of my parents in their youth, you’d see that I come by my skinny frame honestly. And if you’ve seen pictures of my parents in their later years, you’d see the skinny ain’t gonna last! Bring on the jolly!

15. Well, it’s not much of a secret, but I am happy to proclaim it in writing for all to see: I don’t care about aging. I recently spotted the beginnings of baby crows feet around my eyes, and it’s all good…I’ve earned my age.

16. I believe that the quest for true perfection is harmful and potentially dangerous; if I celebrate perfection in any way, it is how perfectly imperfect something is because I place a higher value on uniqueness.

17. One of my favourite sandwiches is peanut butter and cheddar cheese. It grosses nearly everyone out, but who cares?! I think it’s so nummy.

18. My favourite muppets have always been Statler and Waldorf (the hecklers), Animal, and Rowlf the Dog. The hecklers have inspired and influenced me to become a quick wit, I admire the sheer hedonistic drive of Animal, and Rowlf is just plain cool.

19. I can play a part of one Mozart piece on the piano, which I learned by ear. Other than that, I’m instrumentally illiterate. I can sing, but again, I learn by ear, as I can’t comprehend sheet music.

20. One of the best experiences in my life is watching my cats sleep. Their vulnerability touches me, and they little whine they give when they are awakened is one of the most delightful sounds in the world.

21. I can’t eat cooked potatoes. The revolting, mushy, starchy consistency makes me lose my belly. The only potato products I can tolerate are chips, fries, and raw potatoes.

22. I don’t bruise easily, and despite being hit by vehicles, falling down stairs, getting into the odd fight/brawl, and too many sports injuries to count, I’ve only ever cracked my nose (not broken), and broken a toe. I might appear small and frail, but I’m apparently made of some pretty tough stuff.

23. I miss my Gramma everyday. She passed away in 2002, and not a day has passed without even the slightest ache for her.

24. I keep my birth date under wraps because I hate the disappointment of being forgotten. It’s not at the best time of year for people, so it’s just easier if I leave it alone. Eventually, I just got used to not having a big fuss.

25. I had a hell of a time thinking of 25 things to say; partly because I don’t really keep secrets about myself…chances are if you ask me point blank, I’ll answer point blank; and partly because I’m a super-opinionated person, and I have to self-edit or else risk pissing people off.

Why I can't walk away...

2009-01-14T01:35:00.003-05:00

Principles are a tricky business. Having them means that one is required to follow them when up against a situation that calls for a test of character; this rather vague reference will not be explained, much to your chagrin, but in a moment of reflection tonight, I have reached the conclusion that doing what's right isn't always the best thing, and yet choices are dwindling.

I don't want to lose something very precious to me, even though I know that I haven't the strength to bear it as I have in the past, but my principles have forced my hand. In the game of life, it's sink or swim, and life seems to have called my bluff. So if this cryptic message makes sense, I'm all in, for the long haul.

Me, through the eyes of someone I've never met

2009-01-10T01:09:00.003-05:00

This screen cap was taken from a social networking site I used to be active on, circa 2004 (?). It was written by a person I know of through a chat and message board on an entirely different site...the internet...what a delightful device. It allowed someone who has never shared physical proximity with me (or even the same continent) to make my acquaintance and develop an opinion of me, based only on some chat room conversations and message board posts. And the great part about this exercise is that I would agree with his assessment of me, with the exception of two things:

the part about liking me...I fully admit to being difficult to like, for a variety of reasons. It's not that I go out of my way not to be liked, but rather that my eccentricities and flaws make me something of an acquired taste, and not everyone is interested in acquiring that taste; and
the part about juggling...I have terrible hand-eye coordination actually...I cannot physically juggle.

It's funny how pieces of me are enough to sketch a fairly good likeness of me. My intricacies are obviously not included, but the framework is there to build on. I tells ya...I loves this interwebs thing!

The Stupidest Thing Ever Vatican

2009-01-03T21:42:00.002-05:00

First, the story breaks on Dec 23rd that the Pope's gotten himself into trouble by comparing the devastation of the rain forest and climate change to the devastation of traditional genders in today's world.

Then today, we are treated to the stupidest (yes, stupidest...it's so stupid, it deserves its own poor grammar) story...The Pill is polluting the Environment. What a way to start 2009, eh?

Well, if you were thinking the headline is plausible, perhaps because of issues involving packaging or manufacturing, be prepared to be wrong about that theory. The story behind the headline has nothing to do with such concerns; instead, the crux of the story is that the hormones in the Pill are polluting the environment directly through Female Urine.

One problem guys: common sense dictates that nearly everything going in to the human body gets metabolized, so our Pee...it's just Pee.

And as for the secondary claim that The Pill is partially responsible for male infertility? There isn't even any explanation for how this happens.

You know, the obvious overtone is that The Vatican is reaffirming its Anti-Contraception stance, but if you look beyond that surface, there is another veiled attack on Women's rights. By pinning male infertility on The Pill, The Vatican is blaming women for a the loss of male sexual prowess, and in doing so, is fostering resentment towards women making choices for themselves.

Even I realize that I sound like a feminist, and we know how I feel about wearing that label, but it's the curse of a social sciences education. The thing is that The Vatican has reaffirmed again and again over hundreds of years that they are misogynistic sexists. It has repeatedly clamped down on or condemned almost every effort women have made to break male domination in the Catholic Church. Given the history, for once I have a responsibility to sound like a feminist.

If I only had a resolution

2009-01-02T11:35:00.002-05:00

I never make resolutions for New Year's. It's not because I think I won't follow through; in fact it's a strange combination of my fickle nature and my strong will that prevents me making an attempt at resolving to change.

Do I need to change some things about myself? Oh, Absotively posilutely! I'm getting soft in the middle, I still have some questionable eating habits, I never workout, I'm addicted to consumerism, and don't get me started on my study habits.

Do I recognize that I am capable of change? Duh. There's no question about this! If I wasn't capable of change, I would still be stuck working retail or reception, thinking I wasn't smart enough or good enough for anything else. Change, I can do!

What I am is Stubborn. Very. Freaking. Stubborn. And flighty. Oh. So. Flighty. I value my health, but I won't be a slave to it. I value my health, but who the hell has time to exercise when you have a 24-hour instant analysis due at 5 pm? I value my money (what little of it there is), but it's so easy to spend to ensure that I am like no one else in even subtle ways! I insist on doing what I please, even if what I please is fleeting and changes in a flash.

How the hell could I even settle on a resolution with such a charming blend in personality, never mind keep said resolution? Besides...if the United Nations isn't capable of enforcing a binding resolution, why should I be expected to? Seems a hopeless business, so best not to unsettle myself over it. I can't even be bothered to resolve not to make resolutions because who knows? Some day the mood may strike to make one. For now, I will just be the same ol' me, striving to be decent every day.

Annual wrap-up: 2008

2008-12-31T12:20:00.002-05:00

2008 has been a moody mistress. She's given us some incredible highs and some gut-wrenching lows, and damn near everything in between.

In January, we faced extensive family turmoil, as well as the passing of my Father-in-Law. If not for the fact that I had looming deadlines for applications, and had to keep checking on the progress of certain documents, I would have been running entirely on auto-pilot throughout all of the events. In fact, apart from being quite ill in January and February, I was on auto-pilot all the way through to March. I was working at a job I didn't care for, and being constantly drained by the sadness over B.'s situation, Harry's death, and the strain of waiting for news about Grad school acceptance.

On March 13th, I received word that I was accepted to the MPP program at SFU. Naturally, this news cause jubilation and fear in me (yes, at the same time), and that stress I felt before the news gave way to stress about being good enough to fit in! As if that was not enough to shake me out of the doldrums, Miss. M. came to spend her spring break with us, and we had a lot to see, do, buy, and say. It was clear that we were heading towards some kind of major change in her life, and in April, it came; by the 30th, she was back in Burnaby to live with us.

Also in April, I made the life-altering decision to go ahead with the corrective laser surgery on my eyes, sort of as a wedding present to myself. I knew I was taking a chance, but even during my slow and painful recovery, I didn't regret my decision. The result is that I now have 20/15 vision, which is better than normal. I'd recommend it to anyone considering doing it, because it's been a great result for me. At the very least, I recommend going in and getting tested to see if you are a candidate!

May was a frustrating month, waiting for my slower-then-normal recovery process to end, and trying to adjust to life with a teenager. In addition to this, the rush was on to kick the wedding stuff in to gear, and yes, to those of you who received invitations, you can now look back in awe of the fact that I was filling in each of the kanji symbols by hand while blind. I was still in the early stages of recovery when I was struggling to put together the invitations. :)

Things kicked up again in July, as I finally went back to work, doing temps jobs, which I needed because my time off had started to drain our savings and wedding fund. Time stopped creeping at this point, and started flying, because before I knew it, it was September, and the chaos of starting grad school and getting married converged to create a comical vignette.

I was meeting new people, ~~developing a serious case of economics anxiety~~ enjoying the challenges of Grad level learning, AND rushing to fulfill last minute wedding plans. My valuable advice to one and all: Don't get married and be a Grad student at the same time...it sets you up for falling behind, both in school and in wedding planning. By September 12th, I was glad to see the end of this wedding!

But that was before the chaos of the actual day: everyone deciding that it was a good idea to go to IHOP for breakfast (on a weekend?? Really, people!!), leaving me to run around and handle big tasks alone, running from appointment to appointment, and being late for my own wedding due to traffic. But we managed to get married against a perfect backdrop, and have a great little party afterward.

And where was Miss M. during all of this? Still with living with us, and dealing with terrifically painful dental woes. September was not a great month, as she was starting school at Moscrop at the same time as she was needing a root canal. My poor girl!

Once all of that stuff was over with, it was time to settle in to the school routine, and October was all about school. And then November happened, the details of which can be found here. Again, I reiterate that my profs were incredibly awesome about my absence due to the setback from the spinal tap, and in the end, they bent over backwards to accommodate me. By the time the end of the semester rolled around at the beginning of December, I was caught up in everything except the dreaded economics (incidentally, the only class with a final exam *grimace*). I managed to pass my classes well enough. I'm not totally satisfied with two of my grades, but as everyone keeps reminding me, I've had a difficult semester with a serious medical complication blocking my progress, and I should be pleased with what I accomplished in spite of this.

I also turned 30 in the midst of all of this. I'm not bothered by this in the least, in contrast to all the pop culture references to turning old. To the contrary, I found it an enjoyable experience, as I have never had any expectations of where I would be at this point in my life, so I felt no anxiety about unfulfilled goals.

And finally, Miss M. and her mother decided it was time for her to return to Yellowknife. It's been so tense around here lately, as the three of us have been tripping over each other in our small one-bedroom for 7 months, and Miss M. has been struggling in school. But her coming was good in a lot of ways; it gave her mother some time to get her living situation worked out, and Miss M. has been exposed to a lot of opportunities that she would not have in Yk.

So, as we settle in to finish off 2008, I cast hopeful eyes towards the future, 2009. May it be a year filled with joy, love, and far less chaos, for us, and for everyone!

Xmas Alone: Hour...whatever

2008-12-25T00:35:00.002-05:00

2008 will go down for the lunatic weather that killed xmas. It's late in xmas eve, and I've been stuck inside all day as a snow storm dumped another foot or more of snow outside, in addition to the inches that fell in the last three storms.

Vancouver's weather/transportation clusterfuck continues! Thousands stranded as plane, trains and buses all come to a standstill. Car accidents galore, as stupid people go blowing around on the highways at speeds that don't suit the icy surfaces very well. After the airport shut down, people scrambled to the Bus station, only to find that the buses shut down a few hours later. It's a similar story across Canada, and those who have managed to make it out of wherever they were may have trouble getting back.

Take Rod, for instance; he made it out to Vegreville with ease actually, but since he left, there has been another few billion inches of snow on the ground. Coming back could be an adventure to say the least.

But getting around town has been even more fun! The skytrain had to shut down for some hours because a tree fell over the tracks between Nanaimo and Joyce/Collingwood stations; buses have to cancel routes because of hills, snow build-up and ice on trolley wires; driving is a mess for anyone, with snow, snow and more snow covering ice...hell, even a Boathouse in Coal Harbour buckled under the weight of the snow and capsized.

Winter...what a blast!

Christmas Alone: Hour 1

2008-12-22T12:07:00.002-05:00

I've just said goodbye to Rod and Miss M., as they have gone to Alberta by vehicle. This statement would normally elicit a mundane response, but under the circumstances, I understand why there is concern; after all, BC has just been walloped by days of snow, making driving a treacherous business.

Well, the saga begins yesterday around noon. It was snowing. Again. And we started watching the activity at the airport closely. I signed up to get updates texted to me on my cell phone, and right away, it was clear Miss M's flight was delayed. We drove out to the Trailerhood so the Grandparents could have one last visit with Miss M. before she leaves Vancouver for good. Around 4, we packed up and took off in bad conditions for the airport, and Rod's top speed on the 99 reached about 90 kph, whereas the posted speed limit is 100. We already knew her flight was delayed over an hour, but better safe than sorry!

We got to the airport, checked the bags, and off we went to wait out the delay, which kept growing longer, and we were there maybe an hour before it was apparent that she was not getting out, which upset her greatly. Ever deal with an overwrought 14 year old girl? Multiple it by 10 because Miss M. can be incredibly frustrating under less trying circumstances. We were on the phone with her mother updating her, and I could tell even mother could not calm Miss M. down.

For some reason, it was the world's most imperative task to get her home to Mother for xmas. That's when the desperate ideas (not mine) started flying (at least something was):

put her on the bus - Rod, Mother and Miss M. all got really excited about refunding her flight and heading for the greyhound, but I was forced to point out repeatedly that the rules for taking minors had changed this summer, and it was 10 pm before Rod made the call to find out that I was right, and that the bus was not an option.
Get her to Edmonton, then she can hotel/get picked up by friends - We could get her a connecting flight tomorrow (Monday) to Mother's location, but we couldn't get her out of Vancouver to Edmonton. The delayed flight she was booked on was slated to leave 6 hours late, around 12:30 am, but she would be in Edmonton for 12 hours by herself. Refusing to go with any of our friends (and I was not calling them because I actually want to keep these people as friends...inflicting overwrought teenager on them would end that), Miss M. started texting her friends to see if parents would be willing to chauffeur her around. Came close with one, but it was apparent she couldn't get back to the airport, so it was a no-go. The next idea was to put her in a hotel, except how do you book a 14 year old into a hotel in another city by herself? Exactly.
Fly her out on Tuesday (the next available flights) - this might have worked, but Miss M. threw a fit about going any later than yesterday, and by the time everyone was done running around trying to make the desperate ideas happen, this option expired by virtue of the fact that the airlines were unreachable. By this time, her flight had been cancelled, and her only option was to drive to Alberta with Rod, and be picked up by Mother in Hinton. She was again upset, not wanting to do this AT ALL.

Rod was supposed to leave to drive to Vegreville tomorrow, and today was supposed to be errands day. First on our list was that we needed chains for the tires. Second was xmas shopping, and then packing, and spending time together before he left. Well, the itinerary got drastically adjusted to look like this:

wake up really early and start calling places, desperately searching for chains - Finally located some at Lordco 5 minutes away, so run over and purchase!
Get girl, belongings, and odds'n'ends into car and go - quick 2 minutes for last minute driving cautions and advice, and kiss

Stupid thing in all of this is that Miss M. won't make it to xmas location until the 23rd anyways, so had I booked the back up flight for the 23rd when I was at the ticket counter around 6:30 and trying to arrange a new connecting flight (like I, and I alone wanted to), she could have been flying in comfort instead of knocking herself out to avoid the anxiety of driving on bad highways with an uncle she barely tolerates.

I swear, sometimes, I'm a lonely little island of common sense in a sea of stupid. I realized the futility of our airport antics early on, but how do you explain that to an overwrought teen who always gets her way....that sometimes, it is IMPOSSIBLE to get what you want, just accept what you can get? If you can answer that, you're parental unit/guardian of the bloody millenium.

So that, in a nutshell, is how it came to pass that I am alone for xmas a day longer.

She who disappears, resurfaces

2008-12-20T14:10:00.000-05:00

You would have thought "gee, there is so much going on in the world, and Fancy would have such a strong opinion that she couldn't resist writing about them in her blog!" And you would have been right, except for the thing about being overwhelmed by life in the last 6 months!

The lowdown looks something like this:

-Fancy is a grad student in a program that works you like a slave. While other Master's students have the luxury of taking 1 or 2 classes a semester, plus TA'ing and what not...we in the MPP program are subject to 4 classes per semester. As if that's not enough, this semester I had microeconomics AND econometrics. Anyone remember that Fancy is faulty at math? It's been horrendous.

-Fancy has been a guardian to a 14 year old girl. Miss M. has continued on with us, going to school and living the life of a teenager...lots of 'Twilight.'

-Fancy suffered a big health set back in November that kept her on strict bed rest for 2 weeks. This one's a long story, and if you've heard it, feel free to scroll past...

On November 4th, I was at school. We had just gotten our Econ midterm back (62% on mine...only a smidge off the class average), and there was a break until Politics in the afternoon. At loose ends, I decided to grab lunch. As the elevator door opened, I took ONE STEP towards it, and then collapsed to the floor spectacularly. In a sudden, blindingly painful moment, I felt as if someone had just shoved a foot-long knife down my skull and into my brain. I was only vaguely aware of the raucous I had caused, as wave after wave of this shooting pain gripped my head. I have never experienced anything like that. Fearing something serious was going on, an ambulance was called, and I was taken to a downtown hospital, where Rod found me huddled in a crying ball on a chair.

I wasn't waiting long before the doctor took me in, expressing concern. I had bloodwork done, and was sent for a CT because they were concerned that I was experiencing something serious (aneurysm, hemotoma, etc.) and potentially life-threatening. The CT cleared me of that, but still concerned, the doctor's next move was to do a lumbar puncture (a spinal tap) to make sure I wasn't bleeding out in my head. I was suitably freaked out during all of this, with visions of brain surgery, etc. The great news is that they gave me enough morphine to knock me out. The bad news is that I am one of the 3% of people who have post-puncture complications.

A spinal puncture isn't like a regular needle puncture. When you have a needle or bloodwork, the blood clots, sealing the puncture. But gee, spinal/brain fluid doesn't clot! So, the result is that the fluid is leaking out of the puncture in the vertebrae, which results in a Post-Lumbar Puncture Headache (PLPH). This is caused by the fact that your brain isn't protected by enough fluid, and it's causing the membrane to stretch whenever there's movement...essentially, your brain is sorta bouncing around in your skull without enough cushion to protect it, and the brain...crazystoopid thing...is all sensitive with nerves and junk. The overall effect is that you will have the WORST pain of your entire life (because your brain is your most sensitive part) if you have the misfortune of being among the unlucky with complications.

There are only two ways to treat this headache: go in and do a blood patch, where they do another puncture, this time injecting your own blood so it will clot and seal the wound. But you could end up with a headache still. OR, you can be on strict bed rest, laying totally flat until the puncture wound finally seals itself.

My fear of needles, combined with my inability to make it 15 blocks to the hospital without wanting/needing to kill myself made me opt for the bed rest. As you can imagine, my recovery was slow and painful, and it prevented me from going to school for 2 weeks. When I did return, I was in dire straits over having fallen so far behind. Bed rest flat on your back makes studying impossible. I couldn't lay on my side to read, the textbooks were too heavy to life over my head, and forget using the laptop, because you can see the screen if you prop it on your raised knees the right way, but not the keyboard. All in all, it's a clusterfuck.

My profs were all superb, being very understanding and flexible about the assignments and classes I was missing, and in the end, I got some deferrals, and some assignments were dismissed entirely, with the marks transferred to other assignments instead. It's fortunate that I'm in a cohort program, and we're a small faculty, so not only did the profs know about my problem, but several of them were there in the aftermath of the collapse, and they understood this was no simple headache you take two advils for and move on.

There was no saving Econ, and in the end I managed only a B- in the class, but that's not bad considering my mathematical impairment. The prof was extraordinarily patient with me, being that I was already falling behind, and he handled the whole situation well, given that I collapsed after getting his midterm back, and his colleagues had already been ribbing him pretty hard about our class having so much trouble with Econ. He's sort of old skool, and pushes students, saying things like "Look, this is high school math," or "Think harder!" It sort of became a running joke in the department that my initial collapse was caused by "thinking harder" about Econ, and the ribbing got worse for a while.

So there you have it. I have been AWOL from the Blogosphere because this semester has been a clusterfuck of events. I'll try to make it back more regularly, and there will be changes that may assist me in reaching that goal: Miss M. is returning home to Yellowknife; Microeconomics is over, and by all accounts, Macroeconomics will be slightly friendlier; and I plan on never having a spinal tap again in my life (Me: "No thanks doc, I'll just die.").

PS - Happy Holidays! You'll hear the forthcoming saga about that soon!

Wedding, Part 2

2008-09-21T14:05:00.000-04:00

A few of you have asked whether things feel any different now that Rod and I are married, and the best response I can give is this: the only difference between before and after the wedding is that Rod and I are wearing more jewellry. Yes, it doesn't sound romantic, but it sounds just right for us :)

As I said before, the wedding went off so well, and we were blessed to have *perfect* weather. It was sunny and warm all day, and by the time I strutted down the aisle, with the sun starting to set off in the west, it was that just right stage of lighting and temperature so I wasn't dying under 10 lbs of dress. The Mountains and water looked glorious, and the garden was in full bloom...Brock House was hands down the right place for this to happen.

All of this gloriousness was almost for naught, as the day of was filled with chaos that drove my sister nuts. The families decided to go for breakfast at IHOP in the morning, but as per usual in my family at least, they were late getting there. I had decided not to go as I had to pick up the flowers at 11 am, but Rod went, which left us in a bind, because I had no car to pick up said flowers in. Rod had to fly back, pick me up, drop me at the florist, and rush back to IHOP on foot...not that it mattered...IHOP on Saturday mornings is like Wal-Mart on Dec 23rd...the crowds just keep coming. I hauled the flowers up to my apartment by myself (in a dress and wedge heels, no less), and flew back to IHOP so we could all scatter and do our various duties.

Morgan as up first with hair at noon. She had opted for ringlets and curls a la that Harry Potter chick, and it worked out so well for her, it looked so right with her avant garde oversized shirt-dress and black faux-leather leggings. Then I was up for hair, also opting for curls, but with a more gothic twist. Meanwhile, mum was getting makeup done, followed by Karyne, who made her make-up artist start again because she went overboard on the eye makeup. Mum got her hair done, followed by Karyne, while it was my turn for make-up...and I went all out. Being no princess bride, I wanted drama, and I got it in abundance! In the middle of all this, Gail was snapping away, capturing most of the process, going back and forth between salon and spa...she really worked hard.

As I was the last one to be done up, I had to wander over to the hotel alone...felt a tad self-conscious there, with all the make up, hair, headpiece, and in a revealing dress and shoes...but this is me, and once my chin gets up in the air, I can fake confidence with the best of them! When all was said and done, we all looked fantastic...now, about getting us to Brock House across town...

While all the beauty work was going on, Rod, Dad, and Jette were all engaged in the task of trying to get or decorations to Brock House...on a Saturday afternoon...by one of the most popular beaches in the area...Dad had to fight major traffic to get back to the hotel to pick us up, and when all was said and done, we *arrived* at 6:25, when the ceremony was to start at 6:30. After a short interlude so we could all get dressed, it was go time.

I know I wowed the crowd, but Rod was my target audience, and I still haven't received a definitive answer on what his reaction was. I walked down the aisle to Amanda Marshall's "Marry Me." Rod smiled like a goofball throughout the ceremony, and outdid me...yes, that's right, outDID me on the personal vows. We signed the registry to Collective Soul's "Pretty Donna." We sealed it with a good, long kiss, and went back up the aisle to Bryan Adams' "Here I Am (radio mix)."

And in all of this, I only nearly cried once, and I wasn't nervous...just...ready. There was no point in worrying about details, because by the time I had to walk down the aisle, if it wasn't done, it wasn't getting done! Gail took the obligatory portrait shots of us, and then we were able to slip away and get over to the beach for some of the best pictures of us ever...really. So far I've seen one beach shot and I'm blown away! After cleaning ourselves up from beach sand, we were ready to party, and I was thrilled when I entered the reception. Having had no time to go in and scope out the decor, I was putting my faith in the hands of Rod, Christine and Lori, who did the bulk of the work I'm told, with help from Jette and a few others. And they did not disappoint in any way. Everything looked so perfect and fit the heritage house ambiance to perfection, so a special Holla goes out to them.

We ate, we had speeches with laughter and tears, and then we got to the partying. All in all, I give our wedding 5 stars out of 5. Thumbs up, good times had by all :)

In Brief...stay tuned

2008-09-14T20:39:00.002-04:00

It's the day after, so forgive me for not going full tilt into the details, but they are coming...hopefully tomorrow.

Suffice it to say, Rod and I got married yesterday. The weather was perfect, the location was to die for, the food was delicious, the music was lively, and the company was awesome.

Our friend Gail has started to put together the pictures, and I'll post the link to them tomorrow, or you can navigate to them from the link on my blog sidebar.

Mrs. Fancy C. Poitras

One Week Left

2008-09-06T20:50:00.000-04:00

Well, it's been a busy week around the old Poitras/Chudyk household...I started Grad School on Tuesday with an orientation to remember. 180 people applied to the program this year, and my cohort has about 27 people. If you're keeping count, that's somewhere in the neighbourhood of 15% success. So moving to Vancouver to pursue this program before I knew I could even get in...worth it :)

Miss M. started school this week too, but on a rather sour note. Her dentist appointment last week was less than successful, as we got the news that she had 10 cavities, needed a root canal and a crown on one of her teeth. On Tuesday, the opening day, she had an appointment for the crown and about half the cavities, as well as preliminary x-rays for the root canal...all before she had to run off to school to get herself set up. My poor girl, but she took it in stride. She's super-freaked about the root canal, and to be honest, so am I, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it...and then burn it and never look back.

If you are wondering why I'm talking about school stuff under the title "One Week Left" it's because we've all been very busy and had no real time to worry or even notice that the wedding is now almost exactly one week away. At the time of this writing, we are seven days and 40 minutes away from the start of the ceremony. People are telling me I'm remarkably calm about it, considering I'm getting married in a week. The truth is, if it's not done by now, it's an outside shot it's going to get done, so no use panicking about it. My main concern now is to make sure that once Rod's down at the end of the aisle, there's no escape route :p

I'll see you after...as Ms. Fancy C. Poitras.

Brunei?

2008-08-29T11:20:00.002-04:00

My reports feed indicates on my map overlay that I've had a visit from someone in Brunei...

Really?? Is it the Sultan looking for a new girlfriend to spend lavishly on, cause if so, call me ;)

Question of the Day

2008-08-28T12:26:00.002-04:00

So yesterday, I'm driving along listening to 99.3, the Fox, and one of my lesser favourite DJs does this thing called question of the day. Well, his question yesterday was "what was the best concert experience you had in the 1990's?" and I actually had the urge to call in, which is something I never consider.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly the 90's....it was Summersault 2000 at Commonwealth Stadium in Edmonton. A day long musicfest where I would meet an ex's future wife, meet a future best friend (we'd meet again, sober, in 2005), have a shoe thrown at me (seriously? Who goes home without one shoe??), and wait an hour after it was over so a roommate could pick up a chick.

The Foo Fighters have always been awesome, but on this particular day, I had the best concert experience ever. So, the Foos are onstage for about 15 minutes, rocking the shit out of the crowd. There's a massive mosh pit, and I'm...somewhere near the back with Rod. Well, out of the corner of my eye, I see the security guards sramble over to stage right, and I'm thinking 'uh oh, wtf?' Well, Dave Grohl noticed too, and he stopped the band. Now, not everyone in the pit was aware of what's going on, so Dave explained that someone was knocked out in the mosh pit up by the stage, and that we needed to just step back and let the security guards and first aiders clear him out. But knowing that we were still there to see a show, Dave did the classiest thing I've ever seen from a musician on stage: he took the band's song 'Big Me' which is already down tempo, and softened it a little more, to chill the crowd out a bit, and let the staff do their thing. Once the guy was cleared, and the song was over, Dave started rocking out again, climbing stage scaffolding, taking over the drums and being a totally awesome rockstar.

The guy handled it in the best possible way...keep the show going, but take it down a notch for a safer, and therefore more fun experience for those of us of the non-concussed pursuasion. I heard after the show, Dave went to check on the guy too. Awesome band, awesome ethics...best concert experience ever.

Field Study: the Tattooing Nanny State

2008-08-17T13:11:00.003-04:00

So yesterday...

In the midst of chaotic school shopping and errands, Miss M. and I drove in to the downtown core so I could make appointments at Sacred Heart on Davie for nose piercing and the last tattoo. We pulled into a pay parking lot, and I didn't bother to pay, as I rationalized that I was only going to be in the shop for about 2 minutes maximum. We walked in, and a pleasant gothically-coloured and tattooed lady with a welcoming smile greeted us and asked what we were looking for. I said I wanted a nostril piercing, and a tattoo behind my right ear. She smiled sympathically and explained that they don't do nostril piercing at that location (the other two do), and that they won't do my tattoo behind my ear they don't do tattoos on "Public Skin"

~~Are you fucking serious??~~ "Really? Why?"

And some of what came next was both surprising and revealing. She explained that the big boss frowns on his staff doing tattoos on hand, wrists, necks...in other words, places where they can be seen plainly, because having them there makes it harder to get jobs and mortgages. She explained that she had a friend with a little tiny heart on her hand, and she can't get jobs despite being a University graduate. She explained that another friend couldn't get a mortgage because he had a pink breast cancer ribbon tattoos on the front of his neck to honour his mother. I have heard similar stories like this before, when I went to a place in Edmonton, and the guy refused to do the one on the back of my neck because I was, and I quote, "too cleancut, and nice-looking" and it would ruin my appearance so I can't get jobs and stuff.

It didn't occur to me the first time it happened, but this time around, a little older, wiser and more educated, it hit me like a ton of bricks...tattoo artists can be downright conservative and judgmental. Here I am, asking for a service that they provide, willing to pay, having obviously given this a lot of thought (evident by the way I was describing it to her), and I was being given the politely verbal equivalent of a tsk tsk, a pat on the head, and being told that I don't want what I want, as if I were a flatchested 12 year old asking for a training bra. That's twice now I've encountered tattoo situations where I was being nannied. I wasn't being given my rights over my own body to do with it what I will...I wasn't even being given the choice; I was outright being denied my requests because others made the decision about what's in my own best interest.

Let's tackle this job problem for a moment. I got the second tattoo on the back of my neck last month, before I started a temp job at a Crown Corporation (which is semi-governmental). I dressed accordingly, in smart business casual attire. I wore my hair up because it's summer, it's crazy hot, and my hair is crazy long. I was polite, professional, courteous, and good at the job. I worked with people who were in their 40's and 50's. And not once was I looked down on because of my tattoos. In fact, when I left on Thursday, my last day, people were telling me that they wanted me to stay on, and next summer I'd better be available to request to come back (I'm not, unfortunately). They loved me there, because I was competent and good at the job, regardless of some body art and slightly purple hair.

I know this is only one situation, but the point is that there are opportunities out there with people who value the work and skills, and the ones that are going to get freaky about a few small, tasteful body markings are not likely to be cool people to deal with anyways, and I would probably conflict with them in other more fundamental ways that would be counterproductive.

The nice sacred heart lady added the surprising part that made the anthropology student in me click into place...tattoo artists who *don't* do public skin look down on those who do. This comment was like gold to someone studying the culture of tattoo artists, because it revealed what seems to be a near-universal fact: in any career field, I would assume that a hierarchy existed in terms of good work and bad work, skilled vs. just getting by, etc. I know there's snobbery too, but I never would have expected to have it openly verbalized to me, a customer (thus an outsider). It made me wonder if I too was being looked down on for my choice by these people who had never met me, and who felt it their duty to protect me from myself.

5. Weeks. Left.

2008-08-09T13:33:00.002-04:00

In case you weren't counting, in 5 weeks and 8 hours, the music will start, and I will walk down the stairs, across the lawn, and down the aisle, where Rod and I will marry.

Many a person has asked me how things are going, are we ready, is everything taken care of, and those sorts of questions that, while well intentioned, cause me to spiral into a shame spin so deep I want to beat my head against the nearest door, wall, desk, etc. I had a bad week last week, where the convergence of school preparations, wedding preparations, work and money all met to put me in a sleeper hold, which ironically, left me sleepless. For two days, I was a "zombie," stumbling and/or sleepwalking my way through the day, after sleeping so fitfully. I was a mess. I couldn't think straight, and I had so much to do that I forgot what I had to do.

Things have calmed down considerably, I'm sleeping much better, and our list of things to do is actually very doable. After we do the DJ and Marriage commissioner meetings, we are actually in really good shape, with just little details to attend to. I figure 2 days of Zombie Bridezilla is exactly what I needed, and now we're back into our regularly scheduled program.

Pride! (In the Name of (Rubber) Love)

2008-08-05T01:31:00.004-04:00

That's right folks! August Long weekend means one thing, and that's Glorious Gays Gallavanting Giddily Down Denman!

You might be asking yourselves, "will there be photos of this spectacular spectacle?" Sadly, no. When I'm enjoying the parade, I don't want to spoil it by trying to get silly pictures! I want to relish the full feast uninterrupted. But this year, as opposed to years past, our haul of swag was supremo! I knew it was going to be a GLORIOUS PARADE day because...

Okay, the parade starts with hoards of police on bikes, showing off and stunting...ironically, doing the kind of shit that gets the rest of us ticketed. They are like the foreplay. Then the official contingent of GLTBQ's takes over, with the Dykes on Bikes proudly leading the way. Then, by way of a nod to the whole 'indigenous peoples were here first' the Native parade entrants lead off (as they do in most ceremonial situations). And the swag began with a sealed envelope containing...

CANDY AND CONDOMS!! Sweet and SWEET!!

It was all awesomely downhill from there. I got beads, condoms, candies, coupons, flyers, a mini-mini-beachball, and a sunburn-later-cum-tan! If I had a spank bank, it would be so full

/devilish grin

How did you start your August Long Weekend?

2008-08-02T15:11:00.002-04:00

The official party line around the house is that we spent the night hanging out at Chapters. To maintain my street cred, that's all I'm going to say. But here in bloggerland, no one care how cool I am, so I will risk ridicule and explain that I was doing my baby girl a prop.

For those of you "not Cool enough" to be in the know, last night at 12:01 am, the last book of the "Twilight" series was released. This is a wildly popular series of books about uber-cool teen vampires and werewolves, and all the teens are hooked, our darling Miss M. included. She's been dancing about our apartment for a month now, keeping a faithful countdown on our whiteboard, and frantically pacing from the computer to her bed and back in anticipation of this last book. So it was a foregone conclusion that she would spend her night at Chapters, at the masquarade book party.

We hit a big snag early on when it turns out two store staffers misdirected us in our pre-ordering. It turns out the book was being shipped to our house, even though we asked TWO staffers, and said we wanted it shipped to the store for pick up at 12:01. Morgan was to go to the party and hang out, and Rod and I were to bugger off and come back at midnight to pick her up. Well, after discovering the SNAFU and the clerk telling us it was so odd, we went to stand in the Purchasing line, which was already ~~manned~~ girled by about 25 girls and 1 guy. For a minute, it looked like Miss M. wasn't going to get her book, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, until we found out about the Purchasing line (hey, how do I know this stuff? I don't have kids who've been to these parties before, and Miss M.'s preorders have always been in Yellowknife, handled by her mum). Okay, so, we're in line, and now out of nowhere, the clerk tracked us down and gave us a $10 gift card for all the inconvenience. So Chapters is in our good books again (pun entirely intended).

Because of the SNAFU, we couldn't just leave Miss M. alone in a line all night, not because of the social aspect of her being there alone, but because we weren't prepared for this (in the pre-order line, you're already guaranteed your book, so being first is just a bonus. No need to wait in line all night). The Purchasing line is first come, first serve, so she wouldn't be able to go to the bathroom or get food or whatever.

You see where this is going?

The things we do for the kids we love. We spent all night in the Chapters, at times standing in for her, so she could do whatever. We went to get McD's for her, bathroom breaks, etc. She settled in with a group of girls who rivalled her love of the series, and she had a great time! At midnight, she was in the third group to purchase her book, and she came home blissfully happy.

What did we do? We found various corners to hide in (easy when most of the teens are swarming around two lines, leaving the rest of the store for us adults), we sat, chatted, read books, and just watched the girlchaos unfold. Just before midnight, at the 15 minute countdown, the entire store erupted into screams worthy of an Avril Lavigne concert (I know from experience), and Rod told me he had the overwhelming urge to jump up and spastically run over the line where Morgan was, shouting "Omigod! Omigod" over and over. This is how we amused ourselves...making mirth about the situation we were unexpectedly put in. For my part, I told Rod, with 2 minutes to go, that I wished I could get a copy and just throw it into the Purchasing line like a grenade...the ensuing chaos would have been devilishly delicious.

Kitchen Sink Post

2008-07-17T13:04:00.002-04:00

Well, there has certainly been a lot of stuff going on that is worth noting, but I find that I have been very bad about posting any of it, and now most of it is out of date and less exciting. Where to begin?

I just got back from 3 days in Edmonton. There was a seat sale on for WestJet for $19 one way, so I jumped on that deal...and what a deal it turned out to be...$38 return trip becomes $182 round trip with all the taxes, fees and FUEL surcharges. It's getting to be fucking ridonkulous to travel anymore, and I feel bad for all the people who are paying for flights out here for the wedding. A few of the out-of-towners managed to take advantage of the cheap seats deal, but that's still a pretty penny. But I digress. Edmonton. It's a strange trip back to a place I recognize, but which is changing at such a rapid pace that it actually worries me that next time I go back, I'll get lost. I bounced from Wendy's couch to Holly's couch after a day, and I thank both ladies for offering me a place to crash. It was certainly good to see Wendy, since we haven't seen her or Missy in about 3 years or more. And I always love my Hollydays!

While in Edmonton, I went on a couple of power shopping sprees, managing quite a haul for limited cash, but what I am most proud of is my new tattoo. It's just a small sagittarius symbol on the back of my neck, but it means I'm halfway to my goal! I plan on one more tattoo and a small nose piercing before September :) To be honest, I don't know many other people who are going through their teen rebellion phase at age 29, but I don't mind it at all. After a lifetime of being good and being afraid of anonymous opinions of me, I am ready and indeed embracing the opportunity to be comfortable, indeed proud of who I am. I'm aware that my new adornments may give the professional world opportunities to reject me, but I have also become aware of the fact that I am a capable, intelligent woman, and the right opportunities will overlook some small ink spots.

What else? Well, my parents got a dog. Mojo, a shitzu-poodle cross, is quite the character! He's short, furry, cute, and very playful. Mum fell in love with that little face as we walked through a pet store at the mall, and had been mulling over the decision to get a dog. Well, 2 or 3 weeks later, I was going through the store again, and he was still there. As an older pup already (4 months) he's harder to sell because everyone wants their puppies younger, and my heart just went out to this pup who no one seemed interested in. He was even on sale :( I called mum to let her know he was still there. She had gotten over the idea of a dog, but I guess my call got her thinking again. She mulled it over some more, and I was careful to spell out the reasons for and against a dog with their lifestyle, but in the end, the only thing to do was to go meet this dog and see if he would be compatible. We spent about 5 minutes with the little booger, and Mum, Morgan and I were just taken with him. Some phone calls later, Mum had a dog. Mojo has settled in with my parents very well, and he is already Dad's bestest little friend. As a puppy though, he's not without his troubles; he's still hit or miss with his potty training, he doesn't yet "do" walks very well, and he gets overexcited, which means he stimulation marks (pee), usually on me. He's only been with us less than 3 weeks, but the little booger has become a part of the family. He had a severe reaction to one of his immunizations last week, and he almost didn't make it, making us all scared, but he came through like a champ and cemented his spot with the Poitras family.

Let's see. I went back to work briefly last week, no thanks to the intake person at the temp agency I work for. I ended up doing an end run around her, through the general system, and within hours had TWO jobs lined up through one of the other agents. Last week I was with an investment firm, and on Monday I start 4 weeks with a Crown Corporation. In the meantime, I desperately need to find a part time job, because the wedding fast approaches, and I have depleted a significant portion of our savings to cover my expenses while I wasn't working.

And another bit of big news for us was that Gail swung through town nearly two weeks ago and we did an engagement photo session with her. So far the outtakes are awesome and candid, and it just confirmed for us that we made the best choice asking Gail to do the photography for the wedding. We never doubted she'd do an awesome job, but after working with her, we got a feel for how she likes to work, and importantly, what kind of creative work she can and will do with the surroundings she's given :) We did a big portion of the shots on our balcony (with a few harry moments involving her on a chair ON THE 23rd FLOOR, cause she's quite a bit shorter than Rod), and she got some awesome shots of the cats (well, Max at least. Purrball wasn't cooperating with the camera). We then headed up to Burnaby Mountain Park for some glorious sunset shots, and finished with a short session at SFU. If you get the chance, I suggest you visit her flickr page, not just for our engagement photos which are part of the Vancouver 2008 group, but because you'll see some awesome work. Word of warning though, if you are hungry and can't get to food quick enough, you're in trouble, cause this lady does delicious food shots. She makes food I wouldn't touch with a 100 foot pole look so damn yummy!

I'm sure there's a lot more, but some of it is not fit to print, and some of it would bore you to tears. Plus, it's soooo breakfast time here. Nevermind your attention span after all my nattering...my attention span has officially quit for now.

An apology: more harm or more good?

2008-06-12T14:59:00.003-04:00

June 11th was a historic day in Canada. Yesterday, the Canadian government formally apologized for the racist policies that created and perpetuated the Residential School, one of the most tragic institutions in our history. The Residential School was the result of government and religious leaders getting together to legalize the complete assimilation of aboriginal peoples into the white population, socially, spiritually and culturally. The idea was that school-aged aboriginal children were not just mandated, but often forcibly removed from their homes and communities, and taken long distances to these schools, where their language and culture were forbidden, and the punishment for non-compliance could be harsh or even brutal.

The Government, viewing the Aboriginals as somewhat second-class citizens who needed civilizing, got together with the churches who viewed Aboriginals as godless heathens, and worked out a deal where the Churches would run these schools, and the Feds would fund them, thus solving the "Indian problem." Estimates are about 150,000 kids went through these schools, and while many suffered no direct physical or sexual abuse, the fact remains that children were abused, and regardless of any physical or sexual abuse, they were still culturally violated.

I'm having a hard time dealing with this subject, given my already well-documented neuroses regarding my identity. My experience can't count for much, given that I am one of the lucky ones in regards to residential schools. I never had to attend one, and perhaps more crucially to my generation (since we were generally not required to go to these schools), I suffered no incidental trauma because my father did spend a year in the Residential system in high school. But (and there always a but with me)...I do live with the straining legacies of those who attended. I, like many, have lost the language of my heritage because it was deemed 'uncivilized.' The isolation felt by students, their families and friends permeates throughout everyday relations, which leads to so many problems when it comes to interacting with Canadian society at large. And it is a community marked with ugly stereotypes of addictions, violence and sloth by a few ignorant people.

This apology has been a long time coming from government. Now that deals have been made, and reparation monies doled out to surviving students, it is safe to make this apology, as cynical as that sounds. You know, it's odd...Jette said something to me recently about how 'sorry' never does anything (and I'm the cynic??), it never fixes anything. But the more I think about it, the more I have to hope that 'sorry' is a start to healing.

What stops me blogging...

2008-05-30T14:36:00.003-04:00

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-Max Poitras, first-time blogger & Pest Extraordinaire

The Blurred line between Reality and Boredom

2008-05-08T12:42:00.002-04:00

Well folks, two weeks ago today, I made my way to the clinic and purposely put myself through an informed practice of mutilation-cum-improvement. I walked into the surgical suite blind, and after a dazzling array of psychadelically-coloured starburst (and the disturbing smell of singed flesh), I walked out of that surgical suite...blind.

After you get PRK laser surgery done, they stick these "bandage" contact lenses in your eyes that you have to wear for about a week, and they hand you a large shaving kit with about 150,000 items in it for post-op care...use the drops with the blue dot at these times, the green dot at these times with the yellow dots at the same times, etc. And they also provide these drops, ominously marked with a red dot, that when applied, sting like you want to die, and then numb your eyes to the pain...such incredible contradiction in one tiny drop. Oh, and did I mention that with all these drops, the bandage lenses WILL get all cloudy and blurry?

Well, as it turns out, I'm a slow healer. I was excited to have the lenses removed, only to find out that I needed fresh ones for a couple more days. Yay...but it's only 3 more days. 3 days later....well, one came out, and another fresh lens went into the right eye...dammit! But this time, I was allowed to rip that sucker out on Monday night before bed, all by myself. I'm currently without lens, and stuck in some strange netherworld where I can see for the first time in years, but not really.

I highly recommend it to anyone who has the patience and time to spend healing.

Radio Silence Explained

2008-04-22T22:39:00.002-04:00

Well, there is certainly no shortage of goings on in our lives these days, but the problem is that what's going on it entirely too overwhelming to process quickly, much less be able to turn around and talk about it here.

The biggest news is that Rod and I are taking in our niece. Her life has not been an easy one, and lately her situation has been unfortunate at best. I don't want to get into specifics because it involves some very personal and sensitive information about family members, but be assured, she is unharmed physically, so it's nothing as scary as that. Part of this is a pre-emptive measure, part of it is about another chance for everyone involved to work out some issues that have brought us all to this point.

This development is a week or so old, and she is not here yet, but she will be quite soon. It's a lot to process, because it means we need to consider moving to a two bedroom sooner than we anticipated, and adjustments are necessary for Rod, the girl, and me to make this work. We don't know how long this will be, but with all our hearts, we hope things can be sorted by the end of the summer, and she can be reunited with family members.

Sadly, this is not the first time this year we've had to intervene for a kid; in January, at the same time as Harry's passing, we found ourselves in a similar situation with Niece's Brother. It's heartbreaking, frustrating, maddening...but we are getting through it as a (dysfunctional) family, and we know that everyone is in it to protect the kids.

So if I've blown you off in the past week, I'm very sorry, and I know you understand.

In other news...

-The Wedding planning is heating up again, with moves to get the wedding party dressed and ready.
-My last day at the less-than-stellar temp job is tomorrow (very excited) and I can look forward to the next assignment.
-My laser surgery is mere hours away...in 48 hours time, I will be free of visual aids for the first time in about 18 years...the anxiety and excitement mounts.
-It's time to get my ass moving on applying for late scholarships! Yes folks, even school weighs on my mind in this time of chaos.
-Detroit AND Colorado have advanced to the second round, making me very happy...now I just need Calgary to do the same to increase the odds of my two teams making it to round 3. I'm not cheering for Calgary necessarily, it's just that if they advance, 2 things happen: 1) San Jose is out, and that's good cause they are a viable threat to take the Stanley Cup this year, and 2) if Calgary advances, they play Detroit, but if they don't, Detroit and Colorado face each other, and that means one of my teams is out...hopefully not Detroit. Remind me to explain to you just how my hiearchy of Hockey goes sometime.

Fuck, you know, this is a good time to reflect on the theme of this blog (Now What?) but to be brutally honest, I'm scared to death to ask...I just don't know that I can take anything else. Is it 2009 yet?

Now What?

Oopsie...I missed some things

Slowly put down the Facebook, and back away...

The Eulogy

Karen O'Keefe: Comedienne-at-Large*

People tell me I'm smart and I believe them...

Life and the Movies

The next chapter...

Crisis of the self...averted

One year later

Fort...Lawderdaaale

The Trouble de Travail

On Election Silence (or...Screaming in the Inside!)

11 Days...*Insert Facebook Status Update Here*

'twas the night before moving day...

Marcello

Terror in Egypt

#325: 2011

Detroit, Delta, December

Merry Christmas Baby

December 6th

So, how about that local sports team?

Outing the Relationship

Dan Savage/It Gets Better

(Sm)arty Pants

On this side of town...

When Love isn't enough...

Hot Hot Hot!

I give it a 5.0 out of 10

When it rains in Calgary...

O what a tangled web...

ZombieFancy write blog....braaaaaaaains....

And you thought Sears was boring...

Well, that was easy!

Shhhhh! Be vewwy, vewwy quiet! I'm hunting Apawtments!

Excellent going-away gift suggestions...

Change, change, change, change...

Oh, the people you will "meet"

...And the Winner is...

Policy Problem

That's MISS Wingman to you...

Countdown...

Abnormality of Olympic Proportions

Change: a harsh mistress

And life reportedly goes on...

Haitian Relief Effort

Something Like Ideal

Boxing Day oh-9

Pop Psychology

Holidays 2009

News Embargo

Organ Donation Survey

What if

National Survey on attitudes and knowledge about Organ Donation, Canada

Capstone me to death

5 Year-iversary

The Right Time

Day 3: my captors mean business...

Someday, she'll change...

The one where she's surrounded by sickos

The End is Nigh!

Amelioration

Wanted: Peace and Clarity!

Ottawa...take three

The Dark Side

The Detroit Red Wings

Ottawa, for real

The Prettiest Dirty Song Ever

Ottawa

Note to Alberta, Part Two: Sex is real, move on.

Note to Alberta: Evolution is real. Move on.

And the winner is...

"I'm a Flibbertigibbit"

Oh, okay, I see now...raining meets pouring

Umm...no really, now what?

And then there were two...

Deliberations/Negotiating Self-Interest; or WHAT THE F^*$ SHOULD I DO??

I thought I had nothing to say...

If you didn't already know...

Why I can't walk away...

11 Days...Insert Facebook Status Update Here