Get Lost

 I had an adventure this week in the city of Ottawa trying to get around on their bus system. Being a city I don't know at all, it proved to be a bit difficult.

I am going to preface this story by stating that in retrospect, trying my first bus outing here in a snow storm in the dark was probably not the best of plans... especially without a map. Lesson learned.

So I began my journey by heading onto the Ottawa transit site and using the directions to figure out which bus I needed to take to meet a friend downtown. I was doing well, copied down the details of the trip, but I have to say it is pretty ridiculous that the site verbally describes all of the details instead of showing you a map with the instructions... at the time I thought I would be fine, but knowing how visual I am with these kind of things, I should have seen the flaw in the plan.

I headed out the door, dressed very warm, directions and bus fare in hand, and proceeded to walk in the wrong direction, right away. Luckily, I ran into a very nice man who showed me the street I was trying to find. Okay, back on track. I got to the street and turned right, as per my instructions, and proceeded to head down the street, looking for the next one. After about five blocks I still hadn't seen the street name, so I started to get nervous. I asked one man on the street but he wasn't sure exactly where it was, and suggested I head into the hospital to ask. And so I did, and the nice man at the counter told me I had walked right by it.

I headed back from whence I came and realized that when my instructions had said "turn right" (via Ottawa transit site) they had meant walk across the street and follow the same street that has just turned into another name and veers slightly to the right. Maybe I should write for Ottawa transit ;)

Okay, back on track, I reached the intersection I was looking for, found a bus stop with the right bus number on it, and we were in business. I put on my ipod and listened to a little Hall and Oats for musical inspiration as I waited, and to keep my mind off of how cold it was getting. (I seem to have lost my cold temperature tolerance. Hopefully I get it back very soon.)

I had been waiting for about 15 minutes at this point, which is weird since the bus was due 10 minutes previous (said Ottawa transit.) I saw a few go by in the opposite direction and thought that maybe they would be looping around somewhere and end up here? Ten more minutes later along came a bus. I hopped on, and started looking for the stops I had listed to keep track of. After about 5 stops I realized that none of these stops were on my list... uh oh. I decided the best move would be to get off the bus while I tried to figure it out, so I hopped off.

I got out my list of directions and was trying to make sense of it when I saw a cab coming, completely copped out, and flagged it down.

Within about 30 seconds the cabbie could tell I wasn't from around here. I told him where I was headed and he asked if I was trying to take a bus? I told him I was. "Well, it's a good thing you didn't, because you were standing on the wrong side of the street." Yup. Good thing I got off of that bus.

My cabbie was super sweet and started to explain how Ottawa is laid out. He told me exactly what to say to a cabbie if I needed to take a cab home at some point, and which part of the city I was staying in, and then he played tour guide and showed me a few sites. So really, I paid for a cab ride and a tour all in one. Pretty good deal.

He found where I was headed, a little cupcake shop in the heart of the tourist district, and went on his way. I had a lovely little visit with a friend and then he walked me to a bus stop, pointed me in the right direction, told me where to get off and even gave me a bus ticket. Spoiled. I got on the bus feeling confident and relaxed and enjoyed the view.

About 20 minutes later I knew I was near the area I needed to get off, so I started to pay attention. I didn't hear the stop intersection I was waiting for, but I thought a few of the stops looked familiar, and then everything started to look the same. A couple of stops later I heard a stop name called that I remembered being further down the road from where I was, so I had gone too far. I pulled the chord for the next stop, and calmed down... until the bus veered down a winding street and turned around two corners onto what looked like a back lane, and finally stopped at the next stop. Shit.

If you haven't figured it out already, I am not the greatest at orienting myself in terms of directions. I am pretty sure I am geographically dyslexic. I got off of the bus and tried to run as quickly as I could back in the direction the bus had gone before I forgot which way it was. About half way there I reached an intersection and had no idea which way it was. I didn't want to stand around so I just picked one, and managed to find a way (miraculously) back to one of the streets I was looking for. I just had no idea which direction I should be heading to find the cross-street.

I started walking until I found someone waiting at a bus stop, but he didn't know either. I decided to keep going in the direction I was going and hopefully a land mark would tip me off. I suddenly remembered I had passed a hospital on the way there, and sure enough, in another block, there was that beautiful "H" sign pointing in the direction I was heading. Thank you!!! I had to walk another 5 blocks before I got to the stop I was supposed to get off at. I had really veered off of the path. In any case, I found it, refrained from kissing it as to not re-live any tongue-sticking christmas story plot lines, and from there it was a piece of cake.

It took me a little while to thaw, but the positive side? I was so exhausted I fell asleep the minute my head touched the pillow.

Whew. So, first thing on the to do list the next day? BUY A MAP!

Love and Kindness all.

Dear Someone: PART 2

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I am going to describe to you the most exciting moment of my week this week.

I should preface this by saying that it was not necessarily the most ENJOYABLE moment, although it was quite enjoyable, but I had quite a few lovely and enjoyable moments with friends and family over the holiday, so there is no way to choose the MOST enjoyable.

Anyway, the most EXCITING moment of my week was when I stopped back home and found a strange package in the mail.  It said “Molly’s Meats" as the return addy on the package, and it came from Glasgow.

I eagerly opened it up to find a book inside. A Children’s book. I didn’t look very much at the cover, but instead moved on to opening it and looking for a letter or evidence for who it could possibly be from. On the front page someone had written something At first glance I couldn’t figure out what it said, I saw it was addressed to me, and that at the bottom it said “What a Gorgeous letter” with the word gorgeous underlined. I was really confused.

I picked up the envelope again and scanned it. Glasgow. Then I looked at the cover of the book and realized that it was a book by Emma Thompson, it was her latest Nanny Mcfee book. Holy shit. It was from Emma Thompson.

I stood up and started to pace a little bit while I slowly FREAKED OUT. Then I sat back down to look at the book.

I opened the front cover again and deciphered what HER HANDWRITING had said:

"For (life adventurer) with loving and grateful thanks from your faithful
servant, Emma Thompson.
PS what a GORGEOUS letter"

As some of you may recall, I wrote my first fan letter ever to Emma Thompson back in November even though I didn’t really expect her to read it. I thought it would be worth it just to send out the positive energy of how much she means to me as a person and an artist.

It’s amazing to me that no matter how many famous people I meet, I will always feel like celebrities (especially really talented ones) are not real people. They are like fantastical fairy creatures that live in a far away land and do not come into contact with humans. Well folks, I have crossed the human/ fairy barrier and made contact!!!

I am so touched by the gesture. I am so happy she has read my words. It means so much to think that somehow I might have made her day just as she has made mine so many times.

I wanna write a whole bunch of letters now….

Love and Kindness all.

It's the little things

 It sure is a cliche to say that it is important to appreciate the little things, but I don't care! It is a valid statement, and the theme for this particular blog post.

I am home for Christmas, and with that comes a whole variety of emotions, as I'm sure EVERYONE can attest to. Every year, however, it is getting more and more difficult to ignore just how much everything keeps changing as I grow older. We have lost people I care about, pets I care about, traditions need to change, and sometimes we cannot all be together as we would like. The reality is that there is no possible way things can remain as they were when I was little, and for some reason I have pretty much accepted this in every other aspect of my life: except for Christmas.

However, this year I am irritated: I am sick of feeling sad for everything that is different, and everything that is not the way I would like it to be. I have decided that instead, I am going to think of all of the little things that I love about Christmas, and being home, and I am going to seek it all out, and enjoy every drop instead of focusing on the negative. Now don't get me wrong, I know it is important to feel sadness and loss and to morn changes, I just think there is a difference between morning and wallowing. I choose not to wallow.

I began my Christmas enjoyment journey with a trip to the good ol' Safeway down the street. I found myself buying an assortment of odd items that included: eggnog (of course), fruitcake (obviously with the marzipan icing, I don't even need to clarify that), a holiday tin with 3 types of popcorn inside (caramel, cheese, and butter flavors, which NEED to be mixed together when eating them), mandarin oranges, and assortment of flavored processed cheeses (in a little round box that I remember so clearly from my childhood.)

With all of my treats in front of me, my mom and I dug out a bunch of old christmas vhs tapes that we had recorded off of the television between around 1986 and 1989. We put on the lights on our traditional christmas ladder that started a long time ago when my mother had a ladder set up fixing a spot on the ceiling around Christmas time. She decided it would be a cool idea to put boards across the ladder, put presents on it and decorate it like a tree! It was the right shape after all!
Anyway, we started to go through the jems, with handfuls of popcorn, as we laughed at the ridiculous 80's commercials: my favorite part.

A few highlights included the mcdonalds commercial where Ronald is skating with a bunch of kids, and then one kid falls behind from the group and is sadly skating alone, with a cartoon deer and bunnies that look a little bit too much like Bambi characters- how Disney didn't catch that, I don't know... and then Ronald Mcdonald pops up from out of nowhere and spins the kid in a circle and puts him back in the group. Another goodie was a commercial for extra with the most amazing jingle that I'm sure you can all remember: "When you're chewing extra, that extra fresh flavor lasts an extra, extra, extra long time!" Also an oreo cookie Santa commercial, 7 up elves commercial, and a pound puppies add which is just so ridiculous, I just have to show it to y'all:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NkjGHbAIIjE

Aside from the commercials, we found the velveteen rabbit, sesame street christmas special, rudolph the red nose raindeer, frosty the snowman, and one I had completely forgotten about: The glow friends christmas special. The glowworms and glowfriends had been a line of toys that my sisters and I were obsessed with, and we had loved the christmas special too, with the glow worms saving christmas by holding hands and glowing while singing a song about glowing in order to melt an ice cage that was keeping Santa hostage, set there by an older, skinny, malicious woman with a pet fox trying to ruin christmas. You know, the usual. It was a wonderful surprise.

 Next up I decided that I needed to visit the salisbury house, a tradition, and have the Classic egg Nip with the spicy mustard sauce that I have yet to find anywhere else. It was everything I remembered. Including a little heartburn later on. Totally worth it. I was even fortunate enough to have a red velvet cupcake later on at a potluck that my friend Andrew had made. Another lovely tradition of home!

Okay, so a LOT of my memories seem to include food. One thing, however, that I love from our holiday traditions is reading the night before christmas together, the night before christmas. My sister was away this year with her husband's family, so we wouldn't all be together to read it. Alright, it was sad, but as things have to move on, so do we. In fact, because of technology, adaptation is a piece of cake! Good ol' skype! We called her (a little earlier than usual, but that's okay) via skype, and my dad read us all the book together, as we unwrapped matching pajamas (my mom had sent my sister some, so we were able to open them together) flipping the pages, making the sound effects, and pointing out each of our favorite pictures. It was full of wonderful, cheesy goodness.

I am thankful this year for all of these little things and more. My family and my friends who have all had such an impact on my life at various times. I am a pretty lucky gal.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone!!

Love and Kindness all.

Au Naturel

I like to think of myself as a fairly health-conscious, and environmentally conscious person, however, I find I very easily slip into behaviours that just make life in this society a little easier. I have tried many times to reuse plastic sandwich bags, rinse them out and not throw them away, but then I start to get lazy, and the majority of them do end up being thrown away. I am pretty ashamed at how my laziness is having an impact on the detriment of our future earth... I smell a new years resolution a-comin'!

Anyway, I am particularly thinking about one thing. Deodorant. I have been told many times, and read many studies about how horrible aluminum is for our bodies, and the links with breast cancer, and all the ugliness that they are, and I don't doubt it at all! I hate the idea of stopping myself from a natural practice of sweating, however, I hate the idea of smelling bad almost equally as much.

That said, it seems I go through cycles with this particular issue. It usually starts with me getting riled up about the cause and in a fit of passion I throw away my current antiperspirant. Next, I go to the health food store and buy a new kind of natural deodorant. Next, I try using said deodorant for a few days until I realize that it is not working as well as I would like. This is usually followed by me going back to the health food store, selecting a different brand and starting the cycle again. This could repeat again before I have an important day come up in my life, ie: a date, job interview, big audition... at which point I cave, run to the shoppers drug mart, buy an antiperspirant that is on sale and I smell daisy fresh.

The real truth, yes it is confession time: I am terrified of smelling bad. The idea of someone smelling my scent and being repelled by it is more than I can bare. I am almost obsessive about smelling good, to the point where I have to make sure I am wearing just a dab of a body shop spritz or cream before I leave the house, no matter where I am headed.

Now, this week, I had a new friend tell me about something quite intriguing. He swore by using baking soda as deodorant. He said that it kept the smell away really well and he didn't have to re-apply!

I was feeling adventurous, so I decided to give it a try!

I woke up in the morning, jumped in the shower, and then before I dried my hair, I patted my arm pits with just a tiny bit of water. It dried quicker than anticipated, so I had to wet them a little bit more. Then I dumped a little pile of baking soda in my hand and dabbed it on my arm pits as I had been instructed. All was dandy until I realized I was having a bit of a clumping happening in my left arm pit. Must have been too much water. I brushed it off, sprinkled a tiny bit of water and then brushed a fresh batch of soda on. Done.

The real test was after I arrived at rehearsal. I had to get off the streetcar sooner than usual, because I had to stop and mail a letter, so I had to speed walk quite a few blocks to get to there on time. When I arrived, I could feel a little bit of moistness happening in a the experimental areas. I took off my coat and not-even-a-little-subtle-y sniffed both sides. Surprisingly, all was well!! I didn't smell a thing.

We rehearsed for a few hours and then took a break, at which point I decided to assess the situation again: This time, there was a teeny bit of musk sneaking through. I held on for a minute, and told myself that it didn't matter. I could still make it through to lunch. It was at this point that I learned we were going to be doing a ton of movement work after the break.... then I caved. I grabbed a deodorant hidden in my backpack, and the experiment was done.

All in all I have to say I was pretty proud of myself. It was the first time in a while that a teeny smell didn't throw me over the edge. The truth is: There are just some times where you can't afford to smell bad. I think that is just a part of life.

So this is the agreement I have decided to make with myself: I will have two deodorants, and one rare antiperspirant. The two deodorants will be one natural, one not as much. I can therefore make my decision in the morning based on how much physical activity I will be doing, and for very special necessary occasions I can use the antiperspirant. But not all the time. Perhaps I will try the baking soda again with differing quantities.... maybe that would work...

Whew, I am glad I got that off of my chest. What an important topic this is in the grand scheme of things.

Happy sweating!

Love and kindness all.

Oh those little kidlets!

So I have been having difficulty finding something that I thought was "worthy" to write about, haha, which is just cruel to all of my activities that didn't make the cut. I've just started to get very particular, I suppose, and am looking for themes to write about. So, today's theme is: KIDS!

I had a day full of child-like inspiration today that all started on the streetcar. It started out pretty usual, I sat down, checked my phone 4 times, the usual. A few stops later two mothers and their 3 children (collectively) got on the streetcar and chose the seats directly next to me to sit in. They came in with a roar of jibber jabber, and I instantly felt my hand grab for my ipod in my pocket. Just as I did, however, I remembered that I had forgotten to charge it, and it would be of no use to me.

Now, depending on my mood, I would sometimes sit there in pain and anger for the ride, or get so fed up that I would fake the following scenario: I get up quickly and move to the doors further up front in the streetcar because I think I need to get off at the next stop and then just as I am stepping onto the step I am looking out the window and realize it's not the right one. I linger near for a stop and then sit down closer to where I am now standing, and further away from the noise. Whew. That's a lot of work just to move away from some noise.

Anyway, I was feeling rather chipper, and decided to take advantage of the situation, so instead of ignoring the chatter, I embraced it and became a nosey nancy. I started to listen in, and my god it was hilarious. I found out that a little girl and boy who were both 6 and a half and were sitting together were the reason why the two families became friends. They were sitting together and commenting on things they saw out the window. At first I thought it was a game where they had to name what they saw, and then I realized they were just verbalizing their observations for something to do, and I guess a way to connect... perhaps.

At the next stop quite a few people got on the streetcar and a woman sat directly in front of the two children on one of those sideways chairs, so she was directly in their view. She tried to look away and pretend she wasn't in the personal bubble of two children, but they did not. Right away they said hello, and the little girl asked her how she was. The lady smiled and said fine. She instantly came out of her ttc shell. Next the little girl (who seemed to be the more vocal of the couple) proceeded to tell her that she and Michael were best friends who had been best friends since Jr. kindergarten 2 years before, and they still go to school together, and that they are going to get married they have decided, (The little boy concurred) and they will have 2 kids, one boy and one girl. The lady smiled and laughed quietly at this. At this point one of the mothers peeked over to check in, and the woman recounted the tale she had just been told. They both laughed and the woman said "Well, that sounds like a plan. " "Yup" the little boy agreed. "Well, you better help with that too" she said addressing the little boy "Oh I know." He replied. "I'll have to kiss her." Amazing.

It will never stop amazing me how hilarious children are, and how constantly surprised I am by this. After this ride I went to see a children's show and was in the theatre with a lot of little ones who are always so involved verbally in live theatre. They were shouting, warning the characters of what they thought would happen, and laughing with no limits when they thought something was hilarious. It is the pure honesty and no social filters that will always continue to be funny for me. Anyone who has performed in children's theatre or worked with children can attest to their hilarity. It reminded me of when I had acted in a children's show and one of the characters came on wearing a moustache and out of nowhere one child stood up and shouted "He's wearing a moustache!" So simple, but something about the very obvious observation was too much for most of us to handle and we were all trying desperately to keep from breaking into laughter.

Later on I did some shopping and picked up a toy for a children's toy drive one of my co-workers is spearheading. I am quite picky with children's toys after working in a toy store for 6 years: It has to be durable (no cheap shit), last through many age groups and be versatile enough that it promotes uncensored creativity. What I mean by that is there are so many toys that promote creativity within a format (such as colouring in already drawn pictures) which is great, but I much prefer things that promote outside of the box (or lines in this instance) creativity. The toys where the child makes up all of the rules, and every games is different. No fancy stuff: The basics! Blocks! Lego! Paint! I ended up getting a foam alphabet block set where they can make blocks or a mat or spell out words... versatility! I'm sure my rules on toys will get more lax when/ if I actually have children of my own, but I can keep my idealistic views for now. :)

I continued my child-like afternoon by buying myself a little bag of cookies for a treat. They were quinoa cookies and were extremely healthy... and they were disgusting. I needed to buy a brownie to wash them down.

Love and kindness all.

Remembering and Letting Go: A Balance

So, for the last two days I have been re-organizing and cleaning my apartment. I have felt the sudden need to finally figure out what to do with the clutter areas of my space, and to try to make it feel better to live in. I get such a satisfaction out of organization, but I often can't get myself to start because then suddenly I need to organize EVERYTHING and the project is so big that I get overwhelmed and don't do any of it.

This time, I tackled a bunch of smaller projects, and it has been much more manageable.

One of the things I was conflicted about was a little shrine I have had set up in my room beside my bed. Last year I lost both of my grandparents in a terrible car crash, and I had set up a little corner to remind me of them. I had all of the items I had taken from their various homes when we were cleaning them out, as well as pictures of them, cards from them, everything I could find that reminded me of them. (I also added pictures and items from my dear Eddie, our family dog who also passed away last year.) It was really important for me to have all of those things set up, it made me feel like I was actively remembering them, and like they were still with me in some way.

Today was the first day that I looked at that corner and I realized that it was time to put it away. As I started to pack up some of the cards I felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of packing them away. It's interesting to me that as I write this, it makes me sad all over again, thinking that in some way I am putting away the memory of them, but really that is not the case. The reality that is finally starting to sink in is that they are always with me, in my thoughts, and I don't need a bunch of their belongings, collecting dust, to remind me of that.

Instead, I decided to put a bunch of their pictures together in a little collage on my wall, that I can look at and see how much love they both brought to my life. It felt like the right thing to do.

 Grief is such an amazing phenomenon. I have been learning a lot about it through my past year of experiences, and one thing that really strikes me is how it progresses at its' own pace, and there is nothing we can do to speed it up. It is quite an amazing lesson in patience, and faith: the fact that we will feel what we feel in different ways, for as long as we need to, no matter what anyone says or does. I have found a new stage of my grief, and it feels like it was all so long ago, and yet here we are. That said, it is always a progression, and all we can do is roll with the tides, and see where it leads us, checking in along the way.

I feel I made an important step in my progression today.

Love and Kindness all.

Chat a chat chat

So, I’ve been stuck in bed with food poisoning and unable to do anything new for my blog, which has been a bummer. My brain is functioning way better today than it has so far, and therefore, I decided to come up with something immobile to do, with the help of the internet. My initial goal was very broad, to “help someone” or “give advice” which I decided I would do through internet chat. I have only been in chat rooms once as a curious teenager and quickly found them to be creepy and left, but I thought if I went to an adult one it might be okay… famous last words.

My first mistake was clicking on the first one that came up under my search for “chat rooms” I logged in as “livelife” and off we went. My initial response: EVERYTHING IS GOING TOO FAST! There were different coloured words scrolling past my screen way faster than I could read it. I decided to jump in and meet my fellow chatters… but I realized that they all had little pictures next to their names and I only had a question mark. I tried to look for a picture button and instantly felt like a very old lady or a monkey trying to use a computer for the first time. I found my profile, and realized they had all chosen “avatars” okay, cool… some of them were a little slutty… I avoided those and went for a picture of a girl who kind of looked like the girl with the pearl earring. Perfect.

Next I put out a “hello” to the room. No one responded.  I added a “What’s up?”

Still nothing. They were all going strong with weird conversations that I could not understand. And then some idiot started spamming the chat with this over and over again:

“Only beautiful girls can add me or pm me..I'm a model in a model agency for magazines,catalogs and photographers.If you don't believe me don't add me.”

I was pissed. I wrote “Sexymanforyou” a very angry “stop spamming, you idiot. If you were so attractive you wouldn’t feel so insecure as to write it all over the place.” Message.  He continued spamming as it is probably a robot of some kind doing it, but I like to feel that someone was touched by my intelligence.

After this I was suddenly slammed with private messages dinging in over and over again. I opened up 4 of them that just said “asl?” Now I am completely out of it, but I do remember from my middle school days that meant age/sex/location. I still think it is extremely rude to demand the question upon someone, so I responded to one of them with a “It is quite rude to demand that question of me. I would appreciate it if you kindly asked me where I am from and how old I am.” They responded with a smiley face symbol with red cheeks, so I obviously really got through to them.

I deleted most of the other ones as they said disgusting things like “wanna see my sexy body? PM me.” (Which means private message me for all of you who may be out of the loop.) I did respond to one inviting me to see a certain part of their anatomy be saying “No thank you. I am on here to meet new people and have a conversation. You are being rude and disgusting. “ He stopped messaging me.

I then got a very interesting message from guest. Obviously he hadn’t figured out how to change the name. It simply said. “Hi. How are you?” That was refreshing. I responded with “I am well thanks, and you?”  I conversation continued as follows:

Guest: Good.

Me: Good then!

Guest: How old are you?

Me: I’m… 23 (I felt I needed to lie for some reason), and how old are you?

Guest: 21.

Me: Cool.

Guest: Can you rate my picture?

Me: I’m sorry?

Guest: Rate my picture. My face.

Me: You want me to rate a picture of your face?

Guest: I want to know If I look good.

 (Okay, I thought, this is someone that maybe I can help.)

 Me: What do you think?

Guest: What?

Me: Do you like your face?

Guest: Can you look at my pic?

Me: Why does it matter what a stranger thinks of your face?

Guest: I just wanna know! Can you tell me?

Me: I’m not going to rate your face.

Guest: I’m not 21.

Me: What? Okay.

Guest: I’m 14.

Me: Ok.

(I started wondering if I was going to be arrested by some kind of teen government co-op thingy…I decided I should finish the conversation, and not just leave.)

Guest: I’m not 21.

Me: Right, okay.  I’m going to go. Bye.

Guest: Can you just look at my picture?

Me: Listen, if you depend on other people to tell you how you look, life is going to be really hard. Learn to like what you look like. It makes it easier.

Guest: Please!

At that point I signed out. I hope that little boy thinks about the words I said and maybe, just maybe tries to listen to them.

What he said really struck me. I remember hearing about a fad going around where teens would videotape themselves and then post it and have people comment on how attractive they are. It was gross since people were mean on purpose due to the fact that they can comment anonymously. I decided to google “am I attractive” and see what came up.

What came up was a ton of sites with people asking that question. One that really interested me was a man with autism who was asking people to rate how attractive he was so that he would know what level of attractive girls he could try to date. Now, I know enough about autism (from the ol’ psychology degree days) to remember that this makes perfect sense as something that would be observed in other couples and therefore seem completely reasonable to ask. When I see the question being asked I think it is absurd. Is it?

When I really think about it, I know I write people off all of the time because I assume that they are too attractive for me. I don’t think I do it completely consciously, but I think that I do it. I’m not saying I think highly or lowly of myself, I think that it might be one of those human instincts that just kind of happens. It is so weird to pull it out and look at it though.

Now all of that said, I will be the first to tell you that my attraction generally does not come from looks so much as personality. Of course, I need to find something physically attractive about a person, but I am not extremely picky. I am more picky about many other personality factors and morals. I think there are a lot of people who feel this way. I decided to try round two of internet research to find out.

This time I decided to be pickier and choose a chat room that would be less chaotic. I decided on a movie lovers chat room. It was much less busy, in the way that no one was talking on it. I decided to break the ice:

“Ols” Oh shoot, I meant to say ola. Blew it. But wait! Someone named Jazur responded with a “Hi raisins”

(I should explain that I had chosen my name to be raisincouncil as in the quote from benny and joon “I can’t say I’m a big supporter of the raisin council.” Haha, anyway…)

So I chatted with Jazur, angel34, gorutsy and gabon about their favorite movies and then dropped this little puppy:

“Question: Off topic: If you could only pick ONE thing in a partner out of beauty, extreme intelligence or a great sense of humour, what would it be? ;)”

I only got one response, it was humour. Now keep in mind it was Jazur who answered  and then started asking me my answer (which of course was humour too) where I was from and my gender, so I’m pretty sure he was trying to pick me up until I told him I was Male. He then he asked me what actors I was attracted to.

I instantly said Kate Winslet, and then realized that she is beautiful and I just ruined my point. So I left. I have to say that I don't just love Kate because she is beautiful, but because she is a fantastic actor. I don't really care how beautiful she is. But that is hard to explain in a chat room when I am pretending to be a man.

So my research didn’t go exactly as planned, and I didn’t prove any points, but it really got me thinking about how much we really do judge how attractive we are. I am going to leave this entry at this:

The older I grow, the more I start to realize that what I desire most in a companion is a lovely, artistic, kind-hearted person. There are other things that I find work, and other things that don’t, but I don’t look for a supermodel by any means. I know I’m not alone in this, so why don’t we all make a pact to try to focus on being kind-hearted people more than perfectly attractive creatures. I think it will help with a lot of our troubles.

Love and kindness all.

Love, Love, love.

I have been working on a particular blog idea for most of the week, and seeing as I am sick in bed, now seems like a perfect opportunity to create it.

It all started when I was forced to take a cab home (I choose my wording so that I don't feel any responsibility for spending the extra money that I am not supposed to be spending.) Anyway, I was FORCED to take a cab home from work because I had been waiting 35 minutes for a streetcar and there were still none in sight. I was in a pretty pleasant mood, so I started to chat with the cabby. He was talking about how before he was married he lived a completely different lifestyle and worked for different freelance companies, etc, but he is now getting his engineering degree and working as a cab driver in the meantime. It was in this moment that I was very interested in knowing more about Marvin's life (he had also told me his name was Marvin) so I asked how he and his wife had met. He told me that they had an arranged marriage, which of course released an entire avalanche of questions from me.

The story is Marvin and Paulina were set up by their parents as an option for an arranged marriage. They would have the ability to meet and then say yes or no to the arrangement. So, they met in a park for three hours and talked, and after that time, Marvin decided that he wanted her to be his wife. When I asked Marvin how he came to that decision he told me 3 things. One: She was pretty. Two: They seemed to have enough things in common. Three: You never really know anyone, no matter how long you have known them for, so he just thought, why not her.They have now been married for ten years.

I of course find this unbelievably fascinating given how different it is from my way of thinking, but in some ways I understand Marvin's attitude. Now, I should mention I am not completely sold on the whole thing. In fact, Marvin went on to say that they way he makes it work is by never telling his wife when he is unhappy with her. Instead, if he is upset that they are out of cooking oil he will say "I'm so happy that whenever you go shopping you remember the cooking oil." and then she will apologize. I don't know about you, but I could NOT handle living with someone that passive aggressive.

In any case, the whole thing made me think about my perspective on being single. For the most part, I am a pretty confident person, and I am comfortable with myself, and being on my own and independent, however, we all have those "days." On my "days" I feel embarrassed for being single for such a long period of time in a row, and feel the loss of that hope that I will find a good partner. I decided that it might be a good project to ask more people about how they have met their partners, and bring that hope back up.

Now in terms of conducting this project, I realized right away that I would have to be a bit careful asking strangers about how they met their partners if I didn't want to offend someone, or bring up bad memories, so I decided the rule was I could only ask people if they were wearing a wedding ring. That day I spent an hour and a half (to and from one of my jobs) scouring the subway cars, looking for rings. I have to tell you, there were not as many as I had expected! This is on one hand comforting, given that I started to realize I am not completely alone in my single-hood... but also didn't really help the level of hope that I was trying to develop. Although my roomy did have a good point saying that many of them could have been in relationships just not marriages, there are way more common law marriages now, less people wearing rings, and some cultures where they have necklaces in place of rings, so who knows!

I tried one younger-looking woman who really did not want to talk, so I had to move on. I did manage to find one older lady who was willing to answer my question, and she told me she had met her husband at work, they worked in the same department.

It's interesting, because from all of my research through asking friends, family and acquaintances, there seem to be 3 common themes: Met at work, met at school, or were friends of a friend. Of course there are variations on this theme, but for the most part it holds true. One example I love is from a friend from work who said his best friend was dating her best friend, so they just ended up hanging out all of the time. When I asked him if there was a moment when he just "knew" he said little things kept happening time and time again, that solidified the fact.

Now, I'm a weird mix of romantic and realist. I love stories of romantic meetings and "just knowing you are meant to be with someone" but that is not to say I am not practical about marriage in general. I know from everyone I have ever talked to in a marriage that it is work. It doesn't just happen. I also know that sometimes people just grow apart.

My favorite story of meetings is my parents. (And I am not AT ALL biased ;) ) My father, originally from Thunderbay Ontario, had moved to Winnipeg to go to University, was playing piano on a river boat in Winnipeg called "the river rouge" as one of his many gigs. My mother was also not originally from Winnipeg, but had moved there when she was younger as my grandfather had gotten a job at the same University my father was attending. One night my mother and my aunt decided to go see their friend play in a band on the river rouge. (Just a side note: My mother still has the ticket from this boat ride and it says "find your true love" on the ticket... pretty cute.) Anyway, they met as my mother's friend introduced her to my father... and he asked her out on a date very shortly after.

when I ask my mother how she "knew" she explains that she had been dating a man shortly before this encounter and it wasn't working. She explained it to him that in order for a relationship to work, they needed to be like two pillars working together to hold up a building. She still has no idea where that analogy came from. Anyway, the first present that my father gave my mother was a book of poetry, and in that book of poetry there was a poem about two pillars working together to hold up a building. She knew. It was my mother who asked my father to marry her, and they were engaged almost five months after meeting. They have been married for 32 years, and have 3 children. It has been, and will continue to be work and compromise to make it work. My mother says she is lucky that when they grew up and made changes in their lives, they did it together, at the same time. If they had not, it never would have worked, but they did, and it did. 

So, I do have hope.

Someone posted this on their facebook page today, and I feel it is pretty on theme, so enjoy! (Just ignore the coca cola advertisement....haha!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=px2fjhliA8s


Love and kindness all.

BALANCE and INGENUITY: otherwise known as segways and dollarama

Today I rode on my first segway! For any of you who have not seen them motoring around tourist attractions, it is a contraption that looks something like a scooter, and moves based on a sensor that keeps track of your body weight. Basically: They are very cool little machines.

Part history lesson, part team building activity, a group of my co-workers and I went on a segway tour of the distillery. So, we found the place, and were greeted by two very friendly gentlemen who handed us wavers to fill out. Basically I signed my life away saying it wasn't their fault if I hit someone, something, ruined the segway (which I would have to replace for 6, 000$... yikes) or died.

Once that was done we got to pick out the fun helmets. I looked totally bad-ass. Mmmhmm.

Next we were brought outside and given basic instructions on the rules and then were given one on one instructions on the segway itself. Now, I was totally excited and ready up until the moment when I had to step on the thing, and then I started to feel nervous. I got on it and I instantly started to wobble, and panic ensued. I tried to not think too hard and to follow his directions, and slowly but surely I started to get the hang of it.

I have to stop here to mention that the main tour guide/ instructor was quite a character. When he first opened his mouth to talk, I almost burst out laughing as this extreme surfer-dude accent and vocabulary came out of his mouth. He sounded exactly like the turtle from finding nemo. No exaggeration. From thence forward, he shall be known as "surfer tour guide."

Alright, so the time came for all of us to hop on our segways (mine was nicknamed Goldie Hawn after its' lovely gold frame...) and we were off, single file, on a journey through the distillery. The first leg was a little rocky, getting used to riding on brick, but shortly after that I unlocked my knees and basically stopped thinking and just did it. It was fantastic!!

So... what did I learn about the history of the distillery? There were a lot of drunk Canadians in the 1820's and 30's, based on the fact that they thought the best way to counter-act cholera (that they believed came from drinking the polluted water) was to drink whiskey and beer instead. So much so, that they even developed a beer for babies to drink to keep them from dying. Crazy.

Gooderham and worts were the two brothers (in law) that developed the distilleries and manufactured beer and then the first Canadian rye whiskey in Canada, and they were a messed up family. Worts threw himself to his death off of their windmill after his wife died of childbirth and he couldn't raise the 5 children he had. The children were adopted by Gooderham, who then put one of the Wort sons in charge of brewing (since he didn't have a clue how to do it himself.) I should mention that Wort Jr was 16 at the time, and in charge of a company that brewed millions' of tons of alcohol a year. (He had also gone to university at age 13.. so he was just a little ahead of the game, or as surfer tour guide said "the Doogie Howser of alcohol. )

And there was a big explosion, and bla bla bla. Anyway, that was the most entertaining part of the history lesson. We continued to zoom around and at one point turned a corner when one of our teammates went straight and could not stop. He just kept turning around saying "I can't stop, I can't.."  and surfer tour guide went to his rescue. A couple of our teammates were saying "ao river" as he went drifting away, I didn't get it, it's a "Portlandia" thing. He was brought back on track, and other than that one occurrence, we all made it through in one piece, and I had a blast!

The biggest reflection I have from the segway ride was like so many things in life, when I stopped thinking, I had no problems. The key to successfully driving one was to train your body what it has to do to move in different ways, and then to stop thinking about it. Once I stopped thinking about it, I could trust that my body knew what to do, and it did! Only when I started to worry that I was going to lose control did I ever feel shaky. Oh so true for so many parts of life! If we could just turn our brain off (particularly of worry) everything would turn out just fine.

Part two of my afternoon showed off a little of my crazy. I was headed to a training session for a job that I do occasionally. I will not say any more about it, as I am not allowed, but for this particular job training I was supposed to be wearing shorts, and completely forgot them at home. After I finished a couple of errand and looked at the time, I realized there was no way I could make it home to pick them up, so I was going to have to improvise.

On the way to the subway I looked out for possible stores that might sell shorts and was sadly disappointed until I saw it: Dollarama! The store that has everything! I went in with spirits high and began my journey. They didn't sell shorts. However: They did sell footless tights for ladies, and boxer briefs for men. I grabbed a pair of both and headed to the cash register.

It was at that moment that I realized that I would have to bare my legs in shorts... and I had not shaved my legs in.... well a very long time. It's winter, it's just not that necessary. In a panic I grabbed a set of razors and a bottle of lotion and then went to the checkout with all of my items. Okay.

On my continued journey towards the subway I again searched for some kind of store that would have a bathroom I could use, and came across a country time. I went in, bought a tea and then quickly asked where the bathrooms were located. Just as she was handing me my tea I had a brilliant plan and asked her if she had a pair of scissors I could borrow for a minute. Reluctantly she agreed, and off I went.

So in the bathroom I got to work. I cut the legs off of the tights and put them on. They were fairly see-through, so I ripped the tags off of the mens' underwear and put them on top. Perfect! Now, at this point there was a lady in the other stall, who was just heading out. I decided to wait until she left to start item number two. Okay, she was gone. I whipped out the razors, lathered up my legs and braced myself against the bathroom stall door as I began to shave my legs. I worked quickly, but carefully (they were cheap razors, and I didn't want any nasty cuts.) Before long, voila. smooth as buddah.
I put my pants on top of my "shorts" and headed onto the subway and on my way. (After returning the scissors to a very confused lady.)

I am happy to report that I arrived on time, and was very confident with my smooth legs and "shorts."

Love and kindness all.

Adventures with props

As I was leaving work today, my friend Curtis handed me a poor abandoned hanger that he found in a box left from the wedding the night before. I decided to name her "hangy" and in that moment, I also decided to take hangy on an adventure this afternoon. Below is a visual diary of our afternoon.

The outing began with a leisurely stroll to the park, but along the way, hangy found some garbage

 She decided the best thing to do would be to recycle it.

 Next it was time to play!

Good times with a new friend.
After the park we continued on our way, and as we passed by a phone booth, one of the phones started to ring. Hangy decided to be polite and answer it... but it was a wrong number.

Next on our journey we passed some beautiful trees, hangy NEEDED to climb. She's really good with balance.

At this point we both started to feel a little peckish, and then hangy spotted a subway. She decided that we should indulge in one of her favorite snacks: subway cookies.

She picked out her favorite kind

 And we sat down for our snack. Hangy was really hungry.

yum. Okay, with full stomachs we decided that maybe it was time to come home. Now hangy was a little bit sad, for she didn't have a home to go home to. I decided that maybe it was best if hangy came home with me, as long as she could get along with the other hangers. She liked this idea a lot.
We walked across the bridge to the streetcar stop, what a view!

 Hangy got very excited and started to climb up the bridge even though I told her not too, pretty soon she was up way too high.

 I had to scold hangy to get her to finally come down.

She said she was sorry and was just overly-excited, and we made up, and found our way to the streetcar stop.

 After a cozy ride home, we made it inside. I introduced hangy to the key holder first, they got along splendidly.

Next we made our way to the closet, and hangy fit right in.

 It was settled then, I was to adopt hangy for good. I asked hangy if she wanted to come live with me and she got very excited and gave me a big hug.

The end of the day was approaching, and hangy was a little tuckered out from our busy day, so I tucked her in for a sleep.

Goodnight hangy!

Side note: Two different men commented "nice hanger" as I was waiting for the streetcar. Another man commented as I walked by: "beautiful eyes, nice hair, why are you carrying a hanger?" ridiculous objectification aside, I think it is interesting how giving people an object of conversation is key to allowing them to feel comfortable enough to interact with you. Anyone who wants to be spoken to on public transit,  carry a prop. I guarantee it will work.

Love and kindness all.

Dear....... someone

Today I wrote a letter to Emma Thompson. It may seem stupid and juvenile, but it was brilliantly therapeutic.

I got the idea a few weeks ago from my roommate. We had been talking about a book she was reading where the author suggested we write letters to our favorite artists. The idea is that you are putting the positive appreciative energy into the universe. My first thought was that it was ridiculous, given there is no way they will ever read it (says my logical brain.)

This is where my brain suddenly skipped to the part in "Love Actually" (Of course it's a movie with Emma Thompson in it) where Hugh Grant as the Prime Minister, is reading through a selection of christmas letters and finds the one from Natalie and she says she is "actually yours"- his, and it's beautiful, and he realizes he loves her and needs to find her right away!! - Okay, I realize it is a movie, but my point is that you NEVER KNOW if it just might reach that person, and maybe it is exactly what they need to hear. The Universe is a Miraculous Force. Plus, it is positive energy, and that is always helpful.

More than this, I felt so good putting all of my thoughts in order as to why I love Emma Thompson so much, and why she is so inspiring, and I felt inspired all over again!! I want to thank these artists that help me to feel this way. THANK YOU EMMA THOMPSON! THANK YOU!!! I know how much sacrifice it takes to be a small time actor in Canada, I can only imagine what she has given up to get to where she is, not to mention what she has to put herself through every time she plays a juicy role. So I think it is time that I say thank you to those people whom I appreciate so much.

I sent the letter through an e-mail to one of her agents' publicity sector. I hope somehow it finds its' way to Ms. Thompson.

In the meantime, THANK YOU to all of the other beautiful artists in my life who are so brave and let me into their worlds and their minds everyday so that I can become a more full and balanced artist and human being!!! Let's all thank our artists friends for helping our world to be beautiful and to change, and to grow as it should.

To show how appreciative I am, I am going to leave you with a clip from one of my favorite movies of all time: "Sense and Sensibility", screenplay and lead role by Emma Thompson. My second favorite clip (the first being the scene near the beginning in the stable where Edward tries to tell Elinor about being engaged and she has no idea what he is going on about) this one is the proposal right near the end. Lovely. I hope you all enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88_tyulOQDE

Love and Kindness all.

Halloween Shmaaloween

Ahoy hoy!


It's Halloween. I didn't do anything special this year at all. In fact, I only dressed up last minute for a party on Saturday which is sooo unlike me. I am usually crazy about any excuse to dress up. To tell you the truth, this year I just couldn't handle the pressure I had created for myself with years of brilliant costumes. Instead, this year I paper clipped a piece of paper to a red shirt, put on a skirt, pulled my hair back and voila:

I am olive oyl.

Anyway, it was very freeing not having to worry. That said, I did end up dressing up today unexpectedly, let me explain.

I was called in for an audition for a sporty commercial today. For anyone that knows me that in itself is hilarious. I was to play a hockey goalie. (It is getting funnier and funnier...) the wardrobe specifications listed said that we were to wear hockey gear. I of course do not own any of this aforementioned "hockey gear" and neither does anyone that I know in Toronto. Or anyone in Winnipeg for that matter. I don't have a lot of sporty friends. Anyway... so I decided to take a trip to Value Village to see what I could find.

I found myself in the "jersey" aisle ( The shirt, not the place) and started to look through options. Most of them said "tim hortons" or something of the sort. I had no idea how to choose, so I decided to go with the colour that looked best on me out of the bunch and went with a blue one. I'm pretty sure it was a soccer jersey, but whatever, it looked pretty.

Next I found myself in the "sporting goods" section which consisted of three bagged items. One was 4 clear plastic things that I have absolutely no idea where they were meant to go on your body, and the other 3 looked like sports padding of some kind. I decided to buy all 3 and then figure them out after.

On my way back home I took the items out of the baggies and tried to figure them out. The first one I think might have actually been for hockey, and I figured by the shape went on your shoulder, however there was only one, so it was pretty useless. The second baggy had 2 plastic pads with velcro that after several attempts elsewhere I decided were shin pads. I'm pretty sure they were for rollerblading or something similar. The third baggie had 4 sets of pads (elbows and knees I discovered), and for a bonus, some of those little half-glove thingys. They were all red and blue with big letters on the front that said "fisher price."

I got home and put my outfit together. I put on a long sleeved black shirt under my slightly too tight-fitting blue soccer jersey, a pair of rain pants, with my shin gaurds and the fisher price knee pads and elbow pads. I fixed up my make-up and was on my way to the audition looking absolutely ridiculous.

I should mention here that earlier in the morning I actually googled "hockey goalie moves" on you tube so that in case they asked me to do any fake "goalie-ing" I would have a tiny idea of what to do. I was taught how to do a "butterfly guarding move" by some lovely young folks. I may have practiced a few moves in my living room. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xVr5ot6MIg

Anyway, as I got on the streetcar to the audition I felt quite ridiculous. This was definitely the first time I had ever worn sports equipment on public transit in my entire life. I looked around the streetcar, and in front of me was a man with a bullet wound in his face, a guy with a blonde long wig, and a baby dressed as a green monster. I realized that no one was looking at me at all. Oh Halloween, the one day when you can wear the craziest shit, and no one even notices.

The audition went ridiculously fast, as most of them do, and before I knew it I was out the door. Amazing how much work goes into such a teeny amount of time.

I ended up returning half of the equipment after the audition. Well exchanging, for a couple of cozy flannels. I kept the fisher price set though. Who knows when I'll need matching knee pads and elbow pads and half glove thingys, but whenever I do, I'll be stylin'!

Love and kindness all.

The death of Kings makes you think of things

This last week has been a lesson in appreciation, subtlety, and perspective. Let me explain.

It all started when I decided that for the first time, I would read the obituaries. Now, yes, that is not necessarily something that would make me laugh or be happy, but I thought it would be good for me to do it. I picked up a newspaper that was lying on the subway, and started to read through the obituary section. It was heart warming and heart breaking all at the same time. There were several things that really struck me: 1) two women had died of cancer that day who were around my mother's age. They are not that old, had just "finished" raising their children into young adults, and were taken from the new life that they were about to begin. Now, I don't want to go into questioning why. I don't know why, and to be honest, none of us will ever know why, I don't even know these people or their paths, so that is not the point. The point is, life is precious, life is short, and we need to remember that, I need to remember that every day of my beautiful life.

2) There was a little poem that was written in remembrance of a lady who had died several years before. It was short, and it was sweet, and within seconds I was weeping. It is the grief and the loss and the pain that cannot ever fully be gone. More than that, however, it is where that pain comes from, which is from love. That pain would not be anywhere near what it is, if there was not an equal or higher amount of love there. How beautiful is that? As cliche as it is, it IS better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I need to remember this, and allow myself to love as much and as many people as I can possible handle! I want that kind of beauty in my life.

Okay, moving on from the depressing topic of death... this obituary reading changed something in me. On the subway ride home that day, I did not put in my headphones and leave the little world I was in. I looked around and really SAW the people around me. At one point there was a little girl sitting on the seat near me, and we were going through castle frank station where the streetcar goes above the ground. the girl's mother told her to look out the window, and so she did, and her face was pure awe. She kept repeating "wow. wow." as we went over the bridge and looked at the trees and the water and the roads below. "look at that, momma, wow." I looked out the window too, and for the first time since the day that I had first rode that subway in Toronto, I was also in awe. It was a beautiful sight, it was enchanting, and the fact that we could be underground one moment and up on a bridge looking down in the next still blows my mind. It was magic.

That entire day I felt like I was seeing many things on my route for the first time. In fact, I was waiting at the Queen and University streetcar stop and I looked behind me to notice an unbelievable sculpture on the wall that I had NEVER seen before.

This week I was also reminded to appreciate another thing I have: a healthy, happy body. I spent a day working at a hospital, and I cannot talk about the work I did or where I did it, but let me just say this: Being in a hospital can put things into perspective. I, like many people, spend a lot of the time that I look at myself doing so in a judging manor, wishing that I had smaller thighs and a tighter tummy, and clearer skin. For a brief second, as I was being examined by a stranger, I saw them NOT judging me. I saw them looking at my body like it was just that, a human body. Nothing more. In fact, they saw it as a healthy, well-running, youthful human body. What else could I possibly ask for?? It was a wonderful feeling of appreciation, feeling thankful for what I have. I really hope that I can hang on to that feeling for a while. ;)

Love and kindness all.

Halloween Fun!

Hiya friends,
So I decided to join the pumpkin carving contest at work for 2 reasons:
1) It seems like something I would have been too scared to do before, and I am trying to stop fear from making my decisions. Boooyah.
2) I have never actually carved a pumpkin, so it was my new thing of the day!

Now the truth is, I checked in with my momma, and I technically have helped her "carve" a pumpkin a long time ago, but that mostly consisted of using my tiny hands to scoop out the seeds and goop. I was not allowed to carve the pumpkin, so I have never actually done it. It counts!

So, yes, I am a virgin pumpkin carver (or was before that cherry was popped this morning...) and I had quite an adventure figuring it all out. Luckily there is plenty of internet help available!

I picked out a pumpkin at work, something a little smaller so that I wouldn't feel overwhelmed, and then searched for what kind of stencil I would like to use. Holy cow there were a million choices! I could find a stencil for anything I could think of. I decided it needed to reflect me somehow, therefore it shouldn't be too scary, or serious. I narrowed it down to a cartoon, and then stumbled upon snoopy dressed as dracula. Snoopacula. Perfect.

Now the fun part: With my computer open to Martha Stewart's "how to carve a pumpkin" page in case I got stuck, and my itunes on random, I got to work.

Before.... Isn't it a cute little pumpkin? So I cut off the top and started to scoop out the seeds. I forgot how gross this process is. Just slimy and tough to get the stuff out!

 Okay, so I got most of the goop out, but there were soooo many stringy bits left in that darn pumpkin that I could NOT get out. I had to check in with Martha and see what to do. She said to use a plastic scraper... I did not have one of those.I tried everything I could find: A spatula... no good. My knife was too long to fit in the round edges, and a spoon wasn't doing the trick. I looked around everywhere and then tried to think of what might work like a plastic scraper would, and had an idea.

I got my old international student card out of my wallet and started scraping away the inside of the pumpkin. Worked like a charm.

Well the cleaning took FOREVER, but when I finally finished, I got the design out and  tried to make it fit on a round surface, not an easy feat. I had gotten a tip at work to use push pins to make the design onto the pumpkin, so I also used them to keep it in place.

So after an hour of poking the design into the pumpkin, I finally started cutting. And it took twice as long as poking.

All was going well until I got to a really tricky bit around the mask and the eye. In retrospect, I should have done the middle of the eye BEFORE doing the outside of the eye, as it became so flimsy, that I accidentally ripped off half of the eye. Uh oh.

Okay... kind of an important part, what do I do? I assessed the situation, and realized that I had half of the eye still. I carefully cut around it, and saved the bottom half of the eye! Whew! It still looked alright, you got the basic idea. Crisis averted. I finished cutting out the pumpkin, trying to shave the lines so that they looked cleanly cut, and then I realized that I was creating what looked like spaghetti shavings all over the inside of my pumpkin! Ughh! It took quite a while to clean all of that out so that it wouldn't interfere with the light coming through the design. This pumpkin carving is a finicky business!

I finally got it all mostly cleaned out of the way inside, when I realized that I hadn't finished snoopy's ear... but given the very small amount of space I had between the edge of the cut and where I was supposed to cut out the ear, I didn't want to chance it again.... we wouldn't want an eye falling out repeat. Okay... so instead I decided to get a little creative and just shave off the inside of the ear instead so it was the yellow-y underneath colour. Yes! Well, it proved to be a little challenging, and after cutting my finger I switched to a different knife and it did the trick.

Taaadaaaaa!

With a flickering light inside, I'd say it turned out not too shabby! Now, in my head I had planned to add more to it, maybe a woodstock or some paw prints... but I decided maybe it would be best to just keep it simple. Sometimes simplicity is perfect. Plus, I finally got the yellow crap out of my nails and I think I had enough for the day.

All in all, a pretty successful first pumpkin! Now let's just see if it can hold up against the other 27 contestants at work.... ugghh! I'll let you know how it goes. And as a special bonus, I have a new found respect for the pumpkin carvers of the world! I can't believe the people who do the crazy intricate dragons and portraits and such. Good on you!

Love and kindness all.