The madness begins on Sunday

When I start training for the marathon. Having bought the Province newspaper today and got the 18 week training plan, I am now quite scared. Not least because I am going to have to get myself a stopwatch, and work out some run routes around here that are certain numbers of kilometres. Luckily we live practically opposite a school with a running track, which is open to the public after school hours. Cue me running in the rain and dark :o) at least no-one will see me.

The only major points I have issue with (apart from whether I'll actually be able to complete the thing at all) are that a) during my time back home in England in Feb, I will have to take time out of my days and keep training, so apologies in advance for the people who are going to have to put me up, and b) the hill training only kicks in on the day after I fly into England! Now there is a damn big hill by my parents' house, but in Manchester there is a distinct lack of them. So I may be hard pressed to do all my hill training in the allotted time. However, balancing these bad points is the fact that I get two rest days per week, Monday and Thursday, and luckily I fly in and out of England on Thursdays. So they're not really rest days I guess. Damn.

Wednesdays and Sundays are going to be hellish, as they are the hard days. However one of the sports and fitness companies here, the Running Room, has a running club on those two days (was this organised with them? If not it's a marvellous coincidence) so hopefully I can go and run with other regretful people who signed themselves up in a moment of madness.

The Christmas break is winding itself down to being actually fairly boring now. My errant cousin is allegedly somewhere in the city, but being a) disorganised, b) a bloke, and c) somewhere where there is apparently no house phone, he has not made his presence felt. Despite my texting him at a cost of something ridiculous from my English mobile. Let us hope that he awakes from the jetlag coma to text me back at some point. Other people are gearing up for New Year and are also therefore incommunicado, or are just occupied with other things. Hence I have had little opportunity to talk to anyone. Healthy breakfast this morning (grapefruit, orange, hot water with lemon) was tainted by the fact that I bought Cheetos when going to get the newspaper - damn my lack of willpower!

A PS: I may not have spoken to many people over Christmas, but I miss you all. Just because I'm not e-mailing you, it doesn't mean I'm not thinking of you. I just might not be up to it yet. Today I shed the last tears of the year (hopefully), when I had a moment of feeling sorry for myself and generally alone. But screw it, at least I have a home, friends and family. So really I have no right to feel sorry for myself. Someone kick me out of this mood.......

A more serious aside

The events of the past couple of days, namely the massive earthquake and resulting tsunamis affecting Indonesia and other parts of Asia, have brought fears to the fore. Having sent e-mails to two people I know were within the quake's radius, I am currently awaiting confirmation that they and their families are safe, and am constantly logging into my e-mail to check whether word has arrived. At times like these you always worry that it's going to be people you know who are caught up in these events.

A little known fact about Vancouver is that it is situated on the most active earthquake zone in Canada, where three tectonic plates meet. Each year they get about 300 mini quakes; in fact I experienced one of these a few weeks ago whilst standing in a Future Shop queue to buy a computer keyboard. The last major quake here was in 1943, and measured 7.3 on the Richter scale. Every 300 years or so, an 8.5+ quake is recorded, and since the last one was in 1700, the government has recently been preparing for the worst. Predictions are that a quake of magnitude 8.5 or greater would cause landslides and tsunamis along the coast, severely damaging 30% of houses, 60% of older buildings, 15% of high rises, and killing thousands.

To meet this potential threat, many bridges, tunnels, buildings and dams have been reinforced here in recent years, along with the construction of an Emergency Operations Centre and water pumping stations. Allegedly, there is an earthquake program in place to inform residents of what to do in the event of a quake, though I have never seen a pamphlet on the emergency procedures. But I am damn well going to go out and find one in the next couple of days, and read it from cover to cover.

To anyone who has been affected by the devastation in Asia, or if you know someone who has been caught up in it, my thoughts are with you.

On the fourth day of Christmas.......

Today I managed to take the car stereo back, finally. This did require standing in a queue for a very long time, as other people got irate with the staff in Future Shop (do people think that the staff want customers to return stuff and have to stand around?). I then went out and bought a phone, because I felt bad for wearing Denise's out. It is currently charging, so thankfully I can put off trying to work out how the 'Digital Integrated Answering Machine' works until tomorrow. Help.

After taking the stereo back, I resolved to go for a walk round Stanley Park, as the weather was cold but sunny and clear. Of course as soon as I drove downtown, the mist rolled in and it was impossible to see anything, so I promptly drove home again. A rather abortive mission. I have spent the rest of the day watching frankly pretty awful tv (Lost In Space, Mission Impossible 2..... need I say more) and downloading music (Five For Fighting, The Music, Embrace). A day well spent :s

I saw someone fall off their motorbike outside the 7/11 as I went to get a stamp earlier. Don't worry, they weren't going fast, they had slowed right down and were just rolling into the parking lot when they kind of slid gracefully onto their side, smashing a wing mirror in the process. It was obviously a shiny new Christmas present, complete with shiny new leathers, as they seemed completely nonplussed when they became horizontal, and couldn't work out how to get up off the floor again. And I was powerless to help, being on the other side of the road after posting my letter and stuck in traffic (ok, I could have jaywalked, but it was kind of funny). After a while they managed to peel themselves off the sidewalk and trundle off, pretending that nothing had happened. A bit of a hidden camera moment.

I had a look at the marathon course today - it looks pretty flat, thankfully, though we have to go over the Burrard bridge twice, and that's hard enough for my little car to get over, let alone my legs after 17 and 24 miles. I need to do some serious working out. Denise has sensibly decided against running it with me (and I so know that I am going to envy her this decision!) although she is going to do some of the training. And hints and tips (apart from the obvious - don't run the damn thing) will be appreciated......

Cash flow.....problems?

Today seems to have been a day of spending money unintentionally. Yesterday I went to the sales and bought some stuff for the house from Ikea (a couple of plates, four big bowls [50c each!], tea towels, a cushion) and splurged on a car stereo which I now have to take back as the guy in Future Shop lied about whether it could play mp3s. Having gone to take it back today, I discovered that they don't do returns until tomorrow, so came home with the same stereo, plus a jacket, a pair of hiking boots and a jumper. And then I saw an advert for the Vancouver marathon on the tv and stupidly decided that this is just what is needed to get me fit again, so I signed up for that, and dropped another $70. Now I know what my New Year's resolution is. I need to train!! I was too embarrassed to admit the possibility that I might take over 6 hours to complete the course and therefore be put in another start bracket, so I've committed to under that. I figure if I can run a 10k in an hour, I can do the marathon in under 6..... am I kidding myself? Oh, and I also need to get a job in the New Year to fund all my spending. I think I might just take the car stereo back and have done with it, since I don't really need a stereo system for a car that I only plan to have for a year anyway. I'll see how depressed I feel about spending money :o)

Merry Christmas........to each and every one!

After getting back from a lovely Christmas dinner courtesy of my friends, a thankyou; to everyone who phoned me today to wish me a happy Christmas and make sure I was surviving by myself. Although I really think that I should go and buy a new phone and give Denise's a break, because it constantly ran out of juice and died... (sorry Denise!). As well as my parents calling, thanks go to Greg who phoned me all the way from Ireland (Greg - you're fab, as always), my parents' friend Stephanie from Alberta, the friends I had dinner with, my parents again, and finally Dan. Who despite never having met me, seen me in the flesh or spoken to me through any other medium than messenger, called me from Boston to make sure I was ok. Although I may have been a bit non-witty on the phone, for which I apologise, the sentiment was much appreciated. It was good to hear the person I've been talking to for the past couple of months. And I promise that when the phone is charged, I'll call you back!

Further thanks to Shaw and Denise for e-mailing me, and to Rich for posting greetings on my site. I may be alone in actuality, but I have friends all over the world to keep me company :o) miss you all!

A Christmas wish

I have just got back from a church service; the first one I have ever voluntarily been to, and the only one that I actually appreciated. Although it was strange hearing solumn words in a Canadian accent. Plus I had to sing the American version of O Little Town of Bethlehem, which has a strange tune. However, the service was extremely good, and the presence of a woman translating the readings into sign language was good to see. The minister was a very good speaker, the choir was amazing (I really really miss singing), the atmosphere was peaceful, and at one point I felt like crying. And all this from someone who is agnostic. I guess we all have to grow up sometime, and realise that our little world is not always the be all and end all of life. Christmas alone makes you think about stuff more.

When I was 18, about this time 7 years ago, I had my palm read by the partner of one of my work colleagues. Amongst other things, some of them true and some of them debatable, he predicted that I would fall in love at 25. At the time, I thought this was unlikely, for the simple reason that I was already in love. I sat across the table from the guy reading my palm, looking at the man I was in love with, and thinking, "If only he knew....." And yet, there was no way that that relationship was ever going to work out, because he had too much to lose through being with me.

So, over the years, I looked upon being 25 as the magic number - if nothing had sorted itself out in my life by that point, I was off to Canada. I didn't believe the palm reader as such, but it was a comforting thought every year - if I hadn't found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with that year, it didn't matter; there was always 25....

The best year I spent at University was 2003-4, when I was in Bradford. This wasn't because I had the best friends, or the best experiences, or lived in the best house, it was because for the whole year I was there, I didn't worry about guys. I didn't have a boyfriend in Bradford, I didn't fancy anyone there enough to be bothered about them, and none of the guys fancied me. And it was bliss. I stayed out of all my friends' traumas with men, all the drunken nights and sober mornings, all the arguments and emotions, and it was great. But at the same time, every now and then, there was a feeling of something missing.

So now that I am nearly 26, and there seems little chance of my confirming 25 as the year I found 'the one', what do I want from life? Well, I want to say goodbye to the relationships where I was 'the other woman' but never the girlfriend, and the ones where the bad times outweighed the good but I persisted because the good times were so damn good. I want to be with someone who wakes up in the morning and is happy because I'm there, rather than pissed off because they don't have enough bed space or duvet. I want to be with someone who is happy to spend a day doing bugger all because they enjoy my company. I want to be with someone who makes me laugh, and who laughs at me. I want to be happy to lose sleep and watch someone else while they sleep, as I have done in the past. I want to be the person who is missed when they're not there, rather than the person who is forgotten about until they come round again. I want to be independent, while knowing that I have the security of someone being there for me when I need them, and vice versa. I don't want to be 'second best' or 'there at the time', and have someone go out with me because they're bored and they have nothing better to do. I want to get butterflies in my stomach when I haven't spoken to someone in a couple of days and I see them again.

Oh, and ideally, I want all of this before I turn 26! Hmm, unlikely.....seeing as that is less than two months away! However, is it coincidence that Denise wanted to fly to England on the day before my birthday? Will fate allow me to meet some fantastic guy on the plane, or to be met at the airport by someone who wants to sweep me off my feet? [I'll post my flight times on here just in case they're reading ;o)] All I can say is that my New Year's resolution is to not allow 25 to be the last year of my love life..... let's hope it's a resolution I can keep!

A shameless plug

Today I have mostly been.........driving. This morning I drove to Granville Island to go to the public market there, after getting slightly confused around the 'no left turn' streets beforehand. It was absolutely heaving with people, but luckily I managed to fluke myself a parking space by going down a dead end street without knowing it just as someone was coming out. I spent a happy hour wandering round the market, buying fresh fruit and veg, nice cheese, ham, chocolate cake (oh yes), fish, pasta and other healthy stuff.

After coming back and scoffing a large chunk of the purhases, I then battled my way through more no-left-turn streets and one way systems to get to Stanley Park to see all the Christmas lights. A cheering, if slightly disappointing, visit, as I thought that the area covered by the lights would be bigger. Plus the little train that wends its way through the lights in the forest was completely booked up, so I just wandered around. I might go on the train after Christmas instead.

And so to the shameless plug. A marvellous friend from my gap year has set up a website telling you everything you want to know about sports results and fixtures in the UK. Sorry to those of you who aren't in the UK, and who therefore won't be bothered about this, but I have to plug the site anyway ;o)

So for all your sporting questions, check it out. It's at www.sportsstats.co.uk.........

Upbeat

So far this being alone for Christmas thing isn't going too badly. I got up at a decent time today but then went back to bed with a splitting headache and got up at midday. Since then I have just been at the computer working, accompanied by various episodes of CSI, the Simpsons, The Godfather (Part I), Fear Factor and something else that I can't remember but which obviously wasn't that good. In addition I have eaten far too many crisps, have been in my pyjamas all day, and have received a picture that my cousin's four year old daughter drew for me through the post (is she my second cousin, or my cousin once removed, or are they the same thing?). Have received e-mails from two not-quite-exes (as they were not-really-boyfriends), both containing cheery season's greetings and updates on life (one guy in China, one travelling around but back in England for Christmas), had two distinctly dodgy conversations on messenger, and one by e-mail. All in all, a cheerful time of combining lazing, eating and working. I call that a successful day.

Incommunicado

Having taken Denise to the airport this morning at 4am, I am rather tired. This may seem like a bit of overkill, since she could easily have got a taxi, but I always vowed that when I had a car I would actually be useful to people, having experienced lots of people at Uni (with some exceptions of course) who used their cars like a bargaining chip. Hence it is only half an hour out of my sleep to get up and take her to the airport, and seeing as I shall not see her for three weeks, this seems like a minor inconvenience.

Anyway, I am now alone for Christmas. Although at first I dreaded this, I am now beginning to see it as rather a good thing. I need to get my head sorted out a bit, and some time without communication or interaction with people will probably be helpful. Certainly mildly depressing, but probably good for me. Though I may miss talking to my friends, I could probably do with some time to myself, and at least if I have anything important to say to them I will have the time to compose an e-mail, rather than just getting on messenger and having inane conversations which get me in trouble. This may be the same for other people as well. I shall still blog of course, as there is always a need to talk about stuff to someone who won't talk back.

Christmas gets more pointless for me every year anyway, as we can never think of things to get each other and we seem to have less money to do so. This year the lack of even a tree perhaps means that I should get over the pretending to be joyous thing and in fact just treat it as some time to reflect. And though I am not religious and have never been to church, this year I have resolved to go to midnight mass, because in the middle of being alone here I can be together with people, whilst remaining just one in the crowd. I feel the need to go and see what Christmas is meant to be about, rather than just sitting at home and enjoying presents, as if that were all that the holiday was meant for.

This all probably sounds like ramble, but I am tired and emotional, and wish my life would sort itself out properly. People keep telling me to get out and meet more friends - it's not that I'm not trying, I'm just in that state of mind where you would be useless to most of the people you meet anyway. Limbo. Lots of issues unresolved; hopefully some will be resolved by me over the Christmas period, and some by the words and deeds of other people.

So, to all the people going home for the holidays and henceforth uncontactable, have a good holiday. Let's hope the New Year brings resolutions of every kind. Much love xx

Bless the budget airlines.....

Mwahahaha, my return trip to England is booked! Denise and I made a foray to Travel Cuts on the UBC campus, and booked our outbound flights together, though we are coming back at different times. I was glad to find out that Zoom have some reasonably priced flights from Vancouver to London Gatwick (via a small detour to Glasgow, don't ask me why), so having handed over $642 plus insurance (about £270) I can now plan how the hell I am going to get round the country and see everyone in three weeks. Sadly because Zoom only fly on Weds, Thurs and Sat, I can't get home for my birthday :o( but I get in two days later instead. So all those people who I am sure had massive celebrations and presents ready for me, you'll just have to save them for a couple of days, ok? I wish....

Plus the advantage of this is that I can spend four or five days at home with my parents when I fly in and can thus avoid the horrors of Valentine's Day. Hoorah! Apologies in advance to all the people whose hospitality I will be blatently taking advantage of when I come and see them (um, basically, Greg) because I always seem to end up having nowhere else to stay. I promise I'll buy you dinner in Trof. Or perhaps now I have a car, a daring run to Bradford for the largest naan in the UK?!!

Now it's all booked, I can get excited about coming home and seeing everyone. Yey!!! :o)

Cosmollision

So, that word is used here on the Maaco adverts which advertise repairs and paint jobs on your car. What exactly is a 'Cosmollision specialist'? Presumably a combination of 'collision' and 'cosmetic'? I wish people would just speak properly here, and not make up words.

This weekend seems to have gone scarily fast. Apart from taking the car into the garage, and tootling round a few places to drop off library books, get gas, and drop a thankyou present off to my friend, there has been little of substance on my part. Denise has been working hard on essays about Roman cities and learning German vocab, and I have done little other than read her essays and provide encouragement. There has been much tv watching, some avoiding of the fact that it is Christmas, and some increasingly weird and fragmented dreams. The last of which combined an old boyfriend, one of the forum structures that Denise was writing about, a funeral, a pub dinner, beer, and a couple of arguments. Needless to say I woke up confused.

Further blogging to come nearer Christmas, when my thoughts have sorted themselves out a bit. Really clear stuff only comes to me when I go to bed at night, so by the time I come to blog in the evening it's mostly become a load of ramble. I shall try and record it day by day. Not that you won't have heard most of it before.

A thought to finish, from Robin Morgan: Don't accept rides from strange men, and remember that all men are strange. Occasionally cute, but still strange....

More money bites the dust

My little car has just been for a shoe fitting, returning with four brand new ones. Plus a new light inside the car, and some rather brutal affixing of the rear number plate to the bumper, so it doesn't have to hang off the back by string any more. What sophistication. I am slightly surprised that four new tires, installation, balancing, a light bulb, the fixing of the number plate, tax, one hour of working time and four certificates for new tires in the future only cost me $323, or about £140. I may be a car virgin, but this seems to be good value. And I know what you're all saying. Wait until the engine blows up, or the radiator leaks, and then see what it costs me. But until then, I am impressed with the cost of tires.

However, I now need to get petrol, since I got stuck on a one way system trying to get to Canadian Tire, and ended up going over the Burrard Bridge, round town, back over the Burrard Bridge and then into the side streets trying to find a parking place! So what I save on car parts I waste on fuel....

I believe I have mentioned the gas wars that go on here - currently just to spite me it is less of a war than a stubborn refusal to lower prices for more than about ten minutes per day, or at cunning times when no-one will notice. They have been at 80.3 for the past couple of weeks now, and I want to fill up the car! Luckily, some cunning people on the Internet have got websites running which update you on the cheapest prices around Vancouver, so we can all rush out and queue at petrol pumps.

Denise goes home on Tuesday, and then I am home alone for Christmas. With only the car and 'James Bond season' to keep me company until my cousin gets here. No more stopping work for the daily two hours of CSI and trying to contact the dead via the computer (and you think I'm joking?) - I will miss her being here. However, I know she is going to a better home with cats, so I'll let her off. Having bought her xmas present today (and I hope we haven't got each other the same thing!) I am now done with shopping, after Shaw and I called a truce and gave up buying presents for each other as we had no ideas, and I bought all my parents' presents online in about an hour the other day (Amazon, Boots, Raymond Blanc's posh restaurant in Oxford). Sorry to everyone else I haven't bought presents for - I'm just crap, ok? And I need a job before I can afford to buy you all more stuff ;o) my lottery ticket didn't win again this week..... still trying.....

Some you win, some you lose

And so, after a Monday that was so ludicrous it's not even worth mentioning, on Tuesday I picked up my little car and signed lots of money away to insurance companies and car sellers. I got lost in the dark on the way home from picking it up, but managed to get back without accident or incident. We tested it out on the way to a friend's house at 1am last night, and today have done UBC library, Mountain Equipment Co-Op and Safeway. It goes.... although it is not the most trendy of cars, being a 1990 Mazda. Denise has decided that its "angular curves" (is this an oxymoron?) are a sign that my car is gay. It currently awaits a suitable name. Offers of such below please.



Before Dan can post a comment here, I would like to say that his car and mine are never meeting, even if their owners ever do, as he has just taken possession of a limited edition Merc which I am hankering for a ride in. I'm sure cars can have inadequacy issues too.

The only trouble with this car is that it doesn't have a passenger side mirror (which freaks me out and I keep parking right up to the kerb cos I can't see bugger all) and the back number plate isn't on yet, as the screws that held the last one on are so rusted we couldn't get it off and had to destroy it (here number plates go with the driver, so I have my own set). And I nearly got personalised plates by complete accident! They are three numbers and then JER - if only it was JEN. Easy to remember anyway. So a trip to 'Canadian Tire' is in order soon, to see if I can get the little buggers to unrust.

At least the radio works.... and now I can go to Granville Island and stock up on some of the best food in Vancouver....... even though I spent all my money on the car....... damn.

A musical day

Firstly, apologies for the slightly bitter previous post...... I am sure that I will not end up eaten by alsatians. And my love life is hopefully not dead, because that would be a depressing thought. I guess every so often you just don't want to be reminded of your previous failures, because you were hoping they were going to be successes. Anyway.

I have two songs about people called Jenny on my computer; one by Christopher Beck, who did a lot of the music for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (a classical piece called Remembering Jenny) and a version of Jenny 867-5309 by the Goo Goo Dolls, live in what seems to be their garage, but is probably some club somewhere.

The second one of these is very entertaining, since it is a recording of a Tommy Tutone song from the 80s that sent people with the misfortune to have the same phone number as 'Jenny' into a tizzy. Although the song has been slightly, well, creatively interpreted by the Goo Goo Dolls, it is basically about a guy who finds the phone number of the subject of the song on a toilet wall, and is trying to psych himself up to call it. To get a good time. No jokes please. There were law suits filed and complaints made to Tutone's producers when the song aired, since a large number of college kids and general pranksters would ring 867-5309 wherever they happened to be, then ask the people on the other end of the line for sex. I love this song! Lyrics as follows (in the embellished Goo version):

Jenny Jenny who can I turn to
You give me something I can hold on to
I know you'll think I'm like the others before
Who saw your name and number on the wall

Jenny I've got your number
I need to make you mine
Jenny don't change your number
Eight six seven five three oh nine

Jenny Jenny you're the girl for me
You don't know me but you make me so.............. happy! (.......You drive me crazy mamma!)
I tried to call you before but I lost my nerve
I tried my imagination but someone came knocking on the bathroom door.....
(I'm washing my hair!............I'll be out in a minute! What are you doing in there? Nothing..........)

Jenny I've got your number
I need to make you mine
Jenny don't change your number
Eight six seven five three oh nine

I got it (I got it) I got it
I got your number on the wall (........come on everybody in the back row!)
I got it (I got it) I got it
For a good time, for a good time call

Eight six seven five three oh nine (.........let's have a 69!)

Tonight we went to see The Arcade Fire downtown, and although we were both tired, we had a good time. Music seems to be a good thing at the moment to keep me distracted from finding a job ;o)

Taking the rough with the smooth

A nice surprise today: a phone call from my parents. Though not good for Denise, as the phone is right by her bed, and it shocked her into awakeness. My mother then offered to ring back - what, so she could wake us all up again?! Anyway, it was nice to hear what everyone was doing in England. This was slightly tempered however by my mother's proclamation that, "I was talking to Mary about her daughter Carly the other day - she's like you, she's never going to get herself a man." Cheers mum. This statement was swiftly followed by assurances that she didn't mean it that way, she just meant that I was picky, that I was looking for the right person, that I would find someone soon, dig...dig...dig. Talk about getting your day off to a good start. If only my mother didn't start every phone conversation with, "So how are you, how's your love life?" Mother, it's dead, with no hope of resurrection. Please stop reminding me that I am on my way to becoming some old mad woman alone in her house for the next forty years, soon to be eaten by alsatians.

A random day

Only a quick post, since I have nothing of astounding importance to say.......

The morning was spent playing spider solitaire and talking on messenger (both worthwhile passtimes), and lending my computer to Denise while she burnt all her files on her computer to cd. Then a brief foray out to test drive a car, some walking round dealerships in the cold, and some decision making about vehicles. Back to the house to find that a) Denise has been unable to do work on my computer due to being locked out of it and needing my password (d'oh for me) and b) her computer has promptly died a death after giving up its files and music. Copying of disks not a moment too soon.

Evening: stressing about computers and trying to find solutions, dinner at Red Onion, browsing around Blockbusters to no avail, walking back past film set, 'appropriating' of Crew Area signage (currently adorning the front room), two episodes of Six Feet Under, and much more computer stress/hilarity/merriment. No work done on either side, Denise having the excuse of no computer, me having the excuse of, well, nothing.

As for the car situation, the Mazda seen today is as they say here "the winningest" car at the moment, subject to negotiating with owner since all four tyres need replacing. Hopeful securing of car date: Monday.

Fingers crossed for me, since it's getting bloody cold here and we're both fed up with walking!!

Quote for the day

Courtesy of CSI: You say tomato, I say cause of death.

Six degrees of separation

A question for everyone out there: what is the link between the following two items......



Stumped? Well, I was surprised. The picture on the left is of a 'Chia Pet' (the hippo version, to be exact) which seem to be advertised non-stop here on TV in the run-up to Christmas. They seem to be like a mustard and cress grower, only they're meant to appeal to children, and you can get them in a number of shapes and sizes, ranging from pets, to farmyard animals, to heads, to Garfield.

The picture on the right is of the band Spooks, which until last night did not seem to be linked in any way to a cress growing hippo. However, during a period of music perusing last night, I happened to listen to 'Karma Hotel' and soon caught the lyric....Look at his chips, all that green growin' like Chia Pets....

It's true, you can listen to it yourself. I bet someone in Spooks owns one of these. Maybe they are even the brains behind cress growing beasts.

As an aside, why can't people who post lyrics on the web actually get them right? Ok, it is entirely possible that I am the one who has got them wrong, so let me admit this possibility first. But going through the Karma Hotel lyrics, I see that the generally accepted name of the person who lures Eve into having a risky orgy in the hotel is called Macristo. All these years, I have been singing Mephisto. And it seems to me that I am more likely to be right, since Mephisto (or Mephistopheles, if we're being pedantic) was the name of the devil in Faust who lured Faust into selling his soul. Which seems to be a better bet than singing about someone called Macristo, who sounds like an old scottish guy who wouldn't have much chance of being involved in a hot orgy.

In the cold light of day......

.....things apparently look different. Not surprising I guess. I always preferred night myself.

After the good day of yesterday, the excrutiating backpain of today. Sitting in front of the computer for 11 1/2 hours of work, which I got sent expecting it to be 8. I have just finished. My wrist is also killing me.

I am not sure how coherent this will be with backache and knackeredness, but there were two interesting news stories on CTV today. One involves a mother who has gone on strike and is camping in a tent in her front yard to try and force her kids to tidy the house and actually do some housework. This is in Florida, so luckily it's not minus something degrees. The kids are 17 and 12, and the house is a pig sty. Thing is, the kids are probably going to be bloody resourceful buggers and they'll have savings and stuff, plus they'll just go round to their friends and eat there, and leave all the dishes until they're beyond cleaning and have to be chucked out. I don't think the parents have fully thought this through, but it's a nice idea in theory.

The other story is of course that the Supreme Court of Canada has ruled that same-sex marriage is in line with the constitution, can be decreed as enforceable by the federal government (though churches can choose not to hold such weddings), and can be pushed through the courts probably by the end of 2005 to be legal across all provinces. This would mean that Canada would become the third country to make same sex marriage legal, although here in BC, and in two other provinces, gay weddings have been going ahead for some time anyway. Of course there is going to be opposition to the bill going through, but the general concensus is that it won't do any good. The future of gay marriage appears to be in Canada.

Denise and I watched the story with interest; I am currently undecided on whether gay marriage is something I support or not. I thoroughly agree with equal rights, equal laws and civil blessings, but something in me still yearns for the traditional man-woman marriage thing to be kept. This is coming from someone who is non-religious, and doesn't really think that marriage means too much these days anyway, so why do I feel like this? Who knows. I think I am just a hopeless romantic at heart, and kind of like my traditional trappings. So my conclusion seems to be that I embrace these changes wholeheartedly in the spirit of equality and development, but at the same time regret that things have to change. Story of the world's life....

The random fear for the day (there's always one): today I suddenly thought, what happens when I have come back from my holiday in England in a couple of months? So far all my thoughts have been geared up to February, and what I plan to do when I get there. I hadn't even thought about what will happen when it is the end of my time there and I come back here! Then it will be ages until I get to go home again. Will everything sort itself out during those three weeks? Chances of this happening = nil. That's a depressing thought if ever there was one.....

And so, in order not to end on a low note, a happy thought: when I come home, my parents will have put a shower in our house, and for the first time in 26 years, I can actually live in a family home with a shower in. I am not sure what my parents' aversion to buying houses with showers in was, but we never had one. And so, I leave for Canada and they immediately get one. Very suspicious. Showers are good. Although, at the moment with my backache I really want a bath, and what do we not have in this current house? A bath. The law of Sod strikes again.....

Turning Circles

After sharing some views of Vancouver with you all, I felt like sharing my favourite picture as well. No real reason, only all of this guy's artwork is round my room here, since I brought it all with me from England, and if I ever win the lottery I want to buy one of his originals. He is a Scottish former miner called Jack Vettriano, and ever since I saw one of his pieces in the Telegraph newspaper many many years ago (which I can't find a picture of as it's so old, and can only find bad reproductions of) I have been hooked.


This picture is called "The Letter" for obvious reasons, and it kind of echoes the original picture I fell in love with. It just captures a mood which I'm sure we've all been through at one time or another. It could be anything; a woman reading a letter telling her a doomed relationship is over, a woman hanging onto the past and wishing it was the present, or a woman reading a love letter and dreaming about the future. I tend to think the former, but you draw your own conclusions from pieces like this.

It has been a slightly tedious, but overall worthwhile, day. I spent $15 sending 10 Christmas cards to England and Italy (and have 14 more to send to England and the US), so apologies if some people don't get them. I am still debating over Xmas presents, but Denise and I plan to do a blitz this weekend. If people get impersonal Amazon or Gadget shop-sent stuff, I'm sorry! Postage here is expensive, but you know I love you really. I will bring many exciting gifts in February instead, promise...... I have also been jumping round my room to various songs, both good and awful (yes, you know which one, because you jumped around to it too....) because anything sounds fairly good when you haven't listened to it for a while. The 334 calls I have had to transcribe over the past few weeks are now down to 5, which should be done after a quick foray to the 7/11 for supplies. Hoorah! The downside was that the landlady cornered me for rent. Boo hiss.

Anyway guys, I hope you like the picture. Courtesy of Jack Vettriano.

A boring collection of random thoughts

Why is it that you can make lists, and then you do stuff that's on the lists, but the lists still get longer? It doesn't make sense. Probably cos you do all the fun stuff first, and leave all the boring stuff, so it just gets left there until you finally realise you have a deadline and do it in a panic.

So today I knuckled down to doing some Christmas cards, and got half of them done. I'm afraid some people may be getting e-cards instead, since the postage to England is more than the cards themselves (not that I was buying cheap cards, but y'know), so don't feel insulted ;o) And as for presents, well I haven't even started yet, and that doesn't bode well.

The temporary snow we had for a few hours yesterday has not led to more whiteness, although everywhere else seems to be stuggling under the weight of snow, both further up the north coast and further down the south, so how the snow has missed us I am not quite sure. Although if I am going to buy a car, then I guess I shouldn't be wishing for bad weather.

A thought to end with, courtesy of my marvellous friend Shaw; "Romance is not dead darling, it's just in a coma."

A picture postcard city

Because I thought that I have really written not very much about Vancouver, and because not many of you have been here, I have decided to show a little bit of Vancouver occasionally, just so you can see more about where I am living. Who knows, it might encourage you all to visit!

So here are some shots of Vancouver, which sadly I didn't take, because my camera is currently pretty crap, so I apologise to anyone whose copyright I have infringed. I did look before saving the pictures, and couldn't see copyrights on any of them.....




This, as far as I know from not travelling over many of the bridges out of Vancouver, is a view from the Burnaby side of the river towards downtown, with Canada and GM place (where hockey would take place, if there was any, and big concerts happen) on the left hand side. And there is snow, which never happens here, so you won't get many more pictures of that.






This is the view of downtown, looking northish, with the mountains in the background (the one in the middle, roughly, is Grouse Mountain, up which you can do the famous 'Grouse Grind' which is apparently a killer, and takes fit people about 2 hours. I have yet to have the pleasure myself. There is an annual competition to see who can get up there the fastest; the record holder got up there in some stupid time of 43 minutes. What was he, superman?

Although this picture is sadly small, it was the only one I could find of my favourite night-time view, coming over a bridge into downtown. I don't know why I like it so much, but I guess it must just be the contrast between the massive mountains in the background and the metropolis of the city in the foreground. And although there are loads of people living downtown, the lights don't seem to be overpowering or harsh, it all just kinds of fades in well together.





This is the view NW, from Granville Island and the bridge, across to the Burrard St bridge and the mountains beyond Vancouver. And eventually Whistler. The buildings that make up part of Granville Island are open air markets and nice cafes, and places where people go to pick up specialised products from various countries. English Bay is the beach you can see in the left hand side, and if you follow that round to the west you end up in Stanley Park, my favourite place. That is another picture posting, coming soon....




And finally, an aerial view of downtown Vancouver as a whole, just to give you some idea of how big the central bit is. The Granville and Burrard bridges are to the left, and Canada place is on the right. The big bit of greenery in the top is Stanley Park, and the view as a whole is kind of NWW.

Well, I hope I haven't bored everyone to tears with this. I just thought that you should probably all know where I live....



In other news, this weekend was spent watching tv and trying not to do work, going to see National Treasure at the cinema, and car shopping. I have my eye on a nice little number; however this week is another week of research before actually buying anything. So hopefully next weekend, I may be mobile...

Instinct

People have been e-mailing me, or messaging me, or posting comments on here, asking why on earth I was considering going to Iraq, if indeed they believed that I was really serious (which I was). And to this I have to say; instinct.

I always believe, even though it is a complete cliche, that it is better to go by your instincts, as it usually turns out to be the most reliable sense you have, before it gets taken over by all the other feelings that swamp you when you actually think about what you're doing. This is true in a number of contexts. What you instinctively write in an exam when you're not sure of the answer is usually more reliable than what you get when you spend twenty minutes thinking about it, unless you know you know the answer but are just having a mind block. This is exemplified by my physics GSCE, where I wrote the entire two back pages right, then came back to it later and crossed the whole thing out, redoing it completely wrong. I have always hated physics.

Anyway, it's also true that you should go by your instincts in other situations. If you look at oysters and think they look disgusting, it's unlikely you'll enjoy them. If you gaze at fairground rides and feel like you'll puke if you go on them, you invariably will. People who act 'instinctively' in emergencies usually come out of them better than people who think about their actions before carrying them out - it's what we depend on to survive. The old chestnut about 'love at first sight' may sound like a Hollywood invention, but in fact if you think about it, it's instinct. If you meet someone and you immediately feel a powerful attraction to them which you have never felt before, it is something you should go with, rather than being scared of it. It's instinct taking over. And usually, if you don't follow your instincts, they come back and bite you on the arse.

And so to Iraq. When my flatmate told me that there was a call for forensic archaeologists, and I read the advert on the web, my instinct was: what a fantastic job. However this was immediately followed by: my parents would flip. Both of which I knew were correct - it would be a fantastic job (in the sense of interesting and rewarding, not in the sense of enjoyable or fun), and my parents would constantly be having heart attacks, wondering if they were going to turn on the news and see that I had been kidnapped. My instinct was not to apply for the job, but if it was just me, and I didn't have any next of kin to worry about, I would have gone for it. There will probably never be another job like that landing in my inbox, and it would have been something I would have relished doing, but I had to decline. Damn instinct......

The future of Crime Scene Investigation?

Thanks to Lauren for this picture of the CSI girls in Manchester's Orange Grove before I flew out to Canada.



And thanks to Sarah for taking the photo in the first place! At least I think it was her, because Greg kept cutting our heads off.......

I tried to make this bigger, but it got all pixelly. And I look bad enough small! But I like the picture. We should have been wearing our CSI tops, but maybe that's another picture.

Another day, another dollar

And so my life of working at the computer continues unabated; well ok, that's not strictly true, I watched a load of tv, talked to people on messenger and listened to music - anything to avoid actually earning money. Oh, and I went vegetable shopping. Wow, my life is just filled with all kinds of excitement! Thankyou to msn people for keeping me company throughout the otherwise extremely tedious transcribing of forms - there are more to go.... don't stop now..... I need you!

A conversation took place today on messenger at approximately 5am English time that can only be described as "interesting", involving a Uni friend and some minor (major?) revelations. Note to self; apparently when a guy turns up at your house with books to revise, this doesn't actually mean that he wants to revise. Even if there are exams the next day. Thank you for clearing this point up - three and a half years later.... As it happens we didn't revise anyway, since we were/are both slackers and hate anything remotely connected to revision, so we went to a coffee place in Withington and had hot chocolate and those horrid 'Burstin Bugs' things. What a random memory. So, for all the guys out there who actually DO want to revise with girls for exams, well done you. For all the guys who are just using that as an excuse to go round to a girl's house: make sure you pick someone better at reading signals than I was.

A strange one this; I have just realised that although I am extremely good at picking up signals related to other people, I am crap at reading signals related to myself. Maybe this is true for everyone? I can't tell when a guy likes me unless he jokes around with me; give me a guy that keeps his distance and isn't touchy-feely, and I'm screwed. Can't tell bugger all from him. But put two strangers in a room together, and I'll soon know how they feel about each other. Sometimes this is a gift; other times it's a bloody curse, mainly when it involves someone you like and someone you think likes them. Maybe I could be a PI for people who think their spouses are having affairs? Hmm, a whole new career vista is opening up.

Anyway, I waffle. As you can tell, the main gist of this is that I have done nothing of any material use today, but have talked to friends instead, and that is worth all the money I earn......

Reconsidering

Ok, so let's abandon the idea of Iraq. Dan sent me a link today to a story in the Independent which confirmed that the British Embassy had told all Britains to get out of Iraq, whatever their job, and that the airports and roads had practically shut down. I mean it wasn't the brightest of ideas in the first place, but it would have been a fantastic opportunity, and I am a bit gutted that sensibleness is overtaking adventure. But at least I will live to tell the tale, at least without getting shot at. I hope.

Today was a non-leaving-the-house day, with me working at the computer most of the time, though this was brightened by bursts of messenger conversations with various people, who of course I now miss more after having spoken to them! However, as a result of speaking to someone I haven't seen since I graduated with him, I was then prompted to e-mail other people I have seen equally as rarely, so it was a good thing. Even if he was pissed and it was 4am in England, so conversation was a bit random. The crazy fool.

But this was a good missing of people. Today I was not at the depressed-missing-people stage, I was at the remembering-why-I-miss-people-in-the-first-place stage. It was good sitting in front of a messenger window in comfortable 'silence', smiling at the mannerisms and language of the people I left behind. I can't wait to go home and see everyone again. You remember why your friends are your friends. It's good to remind yourself that they are there every so often - it allows you to refresh your images of them and remember how great they are, which you might have forgotten temporarily. Although it may be slightly painful, it is also wicked fun ;o) Even if you do become a sentimental bugger sometimes, and end up smiling at the screen........