Monday, July 31, 2006
Quick follow up
Because I get obsessive, I found a series of Pulitzer Prize Photographs, accompanied by the photographer's thoughts at the time. I think it's interesting to hear what they have to say.
Eve...a few days ago you wrote a post about what one might be thinking right before they die...I think that the 1968 Vietcong Execution picture captures, among other things, that perspective quite well.
Eve...a few days ago you wrote a post about what one might be thinking right before they die...I think that the 1968 Vietcong Execution picture captures, among other things, that perspective quite well.
A Snapshot
I took some photos when I was out at the farm last weekend...of tractors and fields and farmhouses and such and I've been paint-shopping (not photo-shopping, I'm not made of money) some of them this afternoon...which is a very powerful thing, I have to say. With a wave of my magic eraser I can make backgrounds disappear, change the color of peoples' eyes.
Photography is, by far, my preferred art medium...and it's also one of my secret if I could be anything what would I be professions. I would love to be a photojournalist.
This is not to pretend that I am any good at the art....I have never been a particularly creative person after all...but I am better...better than I once was. I think it was India that really inspired me...a true playground for the senses. The colours, and the extremes of society - the vividness of life in that country just beg to be photographed.
Photography as a medium that just inspires me...I think that part of it is the realism, and part of it is that I have the sense that time was stopped...captured, lassoed. Whether it be important world events, or human nature and behavior, or the pure asthetic pleasure of nature a la Ansel Adams, we can stop time or rewind it with photography. Along with the images, the memories of those who have died, the smells and sounds of places seen, the emotions and feelings of experiences...all can be powerfully relived. For me, photography captures emotion better than other art forms...a depth in the eyes, a vibrancy in the colours - life, in all it's beauty and all it's frightfulness. Because there is also a raw-ness to photos...while beauty can be highlighted, ugliness cannot hide. Some of the most famous photos in history have been of brutal subjects but have supported or prompted political movements, social movements, legal movements: [disclaimer: the following are very harsh, but important, I think] the napalm girl, Gerri Twerdy Santoro and the consequences of illegal abortion, the baby and the fireman after Oklahoma city...anything awarded a Pulitzer prize.
I'm not a total pessimist...my favorite photo of all time we used to have hanging in our living room on Pine: Ella Fitzgerald singing in a smoky jazz bar with Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman sitting in the audience. It may seem like an odd choice for a favorite photo. I love it because I wish I had been there...sitting in that bar...I can almost smell the smoke...I can almost hear the music...I can almost taste the whiskey. Those people - the three of them - are some of the most marvellous artists in my opinion, and I would kill to have spent just one night in their presence.
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words...but I think it is also worth a thousand feelings, a thousand emotions...a thousand nightmares...a thousand dreams.
Photography is, by far, my preferred art medium...and it's also one of my secret if I could be anything what would I be professions. I would love to be a photojournalist.
This is not to pretend that I am any good at the art....I have never been a particularly creative person after all...but I am better...better than I once was. I think it was India that really inspired me...a true playground for the senses. The colours, and the extremes of society - the vividness of life in that country just beg to be photographed.
Photography as a medium that just inspires me...I think that part of it is the realism, and part of it is that I have the sense that time was stopped...captured, lassoed. Whether it be important world events, or human nature and behavior, or the pure asthetic pleasure of nature a la Ansel Adams, we can stop time or rewind it with photography. Along with the images, the memories of those who have died, the smells and sounds of places seen, the emotions and feelings of experiences...all can be powerfully relived. For me, photography captures emotion better than other art forms...a depth in the eyes, a vibrancy in the colours - life, in all it's beauty and all it's frightfulness. Because there is also a raw-ness to photos...while beauty can be highlighted, ugliness cannot hide. Some of the most famous photos in history have been of brutal subjects but have supported or prompted political movements, social movements, legal movements: [disclaimer: the following are very harsh, but important, I think] the napalm girl, Gerri Twerdy Santoro and the consequences of illegal abortion, the baby and the fireman after Oklahoma city...anything awarded a Pulitzer prize.
I'm not a total pessimist...my favorite photo of all time we used to have hanging in our living room on Pine: Ella Fitzgerald singing in a smoky jazz bar with Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman sitting in the audience. It may seem like an odd choice for a favorite photo. I love it because I wish I had been there...sitting in that bar...I can almost smell the smoke...I can almost hear the music...I can almost taste the whiskey. Those people - the three of them - are some of the most marvellous artists in my opinion, and I would kill to have spent just one night in their presence.
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words...but I think it is also worth a thousand feelings, a thousand emotions...a thousand nightmares...a thousand dreams.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Rainy Days
There was something written here...but when I checked back...it was gone. Like the email you spend a half hour writing, only to hit the wrong button and delete it entirely, this post is gone now, forever.
The moment has passed, and I no longer feel like writing what I had written...even if I could remember what it was in the first place.
It makes me sad.
The moment has passed, and I no longer feel like writing what I had written...even if I could remember what it was in the first place.
It makes me sad.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
One that really matters
I have a trial coming up...and I actually think that this guy is innocent of the charges he faces.
It's made me realize the freedom that comes with defending people who, more than likely, are guilty in whole, or in part.
There are all sorts of defences that you can run...factual, legal, constitutional...sometimes just poking holes in the Crown's case, raising reasonable doubt. My job is, quite simply, to make sure the Crown does their's, and to make sure that the rights of my client are protected. The funny thing is, that when I feel in my heart of hearts that they are guilty, I am so much calmer, I feel like I can be creative, and innovative, and just go all out, challenge the laws or whatever.
Now I have this guy who is actually innocent, albeit somewhat stupid, and I feel so anxious. Like if he is convicted, it will be my fault. Like if I don't handle the argument correctly, the judge will not be able to find reasonable doubt, and will convict him. Like if I don't control my witnesses the way I need to, things might come out in such a way that casts a negative light, and threaten their credibility.
It's a lot of pressure for this kid.
I worry that I'm going to screw it up.
It's made me realize the freedom that comes with defending people who, more than likely, are guilty in whole, or in part.
There are all sorts of defences that you can run...factual, legal, constitutional...sometimes just poking holes in the Crown's case, raising reasonable doubt. My job is, quite simply, to make sure the Crown does their's, and to make sure that the rights of my client are protected. The funny thing is, that when I feel in my heart of hearts that they are guilty, I am so much calmer, I feel like I can be creative, and innovative, and just go all out, challenge the laws or whatever.
Now I have this guy who is actually innocent, albeit somewhat stupid, and I feel so anxious. Like if he is convicted, it will be my fault. Like if I don't handle the argument correctly, the judge will not be able to find reasonable doubt, and will convict him. Like if I don't control my witnesses the way I need to, things might come out in such a way that casts a negative light, and threaten their credibility.
It's a lot of pressure for this kid.
I worry that I'm going to screw it up.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Emotional Undressing
I enjoy arguing with my undergrad buddies better than most things in my life.
I consider myself so blessed to have found a group of people so passionate, so opinionated, so honest, with whom no topic at all is taboo, whom I can be screaming at one minute, and toasting the next. No ill will...no grudges or resentment. Disagreements...with respect.
Funnily enough, when I am the target of the character challenge, when I am emotionally undressed by these people, so to speak, I always come out on the other end feeling rejuvenated, refreshed, clean, knowing myself a little better.
Perhaps that's what security feels like...or love.
In any case, I look forward to Labour Day...I'm thinking beers at St. Elizabeth - is that still around?? Best patio...ever.
I consider myself so blessed to have found a group of people so passionate, so opinionated, so honest, with whom no topic at all is taboo, whom I can be screaming at one minute, and toasting the next. No ill will...no grudges or resentment. Disagreements...with respect.
Funnily enough, when I am the target of the character challenge, when I am emotionally undressed by these people, so to speak, I always come out on the other end feeling rejuvenated, refreshed, clean, knowing myself a little better.
Perhaps that's what security feels like...or love.
In any case, I look forward to Labour Day...I'm thinking beers at St. Elizabeth - is that still around?? Best patio...ever.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
What is the perfect first date movie?
I overanalyze things too much...how I can go from being totally blaze about something, and now be completely worked into a frenzy I have no idea. I hate it when I'm completely neurotic.
Monday, July 24, 2006
If Bon Jovi Was A Pony
A few posts back I commented on a couple of my favorite things about Alberta. You can add cowboys to that list. First of all, I know that I've been sort of swooning the past few days...I guess the farm has sort of infested my brain. Not to worry, I'm sure I'll be cured of it, and be adequately cynical before you know it. But back to the cowboys...I'm not sure if it's the horses, or the handyness, or the fact that they're slightly dirty, and walk with a swagger and call you ma'am with a twang, but my god...
Tonight we went to Capital Ex, which is the carnival in town - we saw the Philosopher Kings in concert, which I suprisingly enjoyed..that lead singer is unbelievable...but that's another story. I got free tickets from my colleague, also got us into the Chuck Wagon Derby. I've never been to a Chuck Wagon Derby...it was an experience. They run miniature covered wagons around barrels and then around the track. Each wagon is led by a team of four horses and it's all very exciting. At half time they ran the wild pony races. Three cowboys try and catch a wild pony in the ring and mount it and ride it for a bit before they get bucked off...and they have to do this in under 25 seconds. My favorite pony to beat the cowboys had this great tuft of crazy mane that made him look like the horse equivalent of Bon Jovi. If Bon Jovi was a horse...this would have been him. He dragged those cowboys around the ring for all 25 seconds and when he threw them, he snorted and tossed that wild mane with such attitude, definitely a young gun if I ever saw one.
Tonight we went to Capital Ex, which is the carnival in town - we saw the Philosopher Kings in concert, which I suprisingly enjoyed..that lead singer is unbelievable...but that's another story. I got free tickets from my colleague, also got us into the Chuck Wagon Derby. I've never been to a Chuck Wagon Derby...it was an experience. They run miniature covered wagons around barrels and then around the track. Each wagon is led by a team of four horses and it's all very exciting. At half time they ran the wild pony races. Three cowboys try and catch a wild pony in the ring and mount it and ride it for a bit before they get bucked off...and they have to do this in under 25 seconds. My favorite pony to beat the cowboys had this great tuft of crazy mane that made him look like the horse equivalent of Bon Jovi. If Bon Jovi was a horse...this would have been him. He dragged those cowboys around the ring for all 25 seconds and when he threw them, he snorted and tossed that wild mane with such attitude, definitely a young gun if I ever saw one.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
I Take It Back
The comment about getting a gun license...I totally take it back.
So this weekend I went out to my friend's farm. It was damn hot yesterday...37 degrees at one point. There was a fantastic electrical storm - my first prairie electrical storm - which was spectacular with the lightening forks on the horizon, and the distinct storm systems in the clouds above. The whole weekend was an adventure in itself: we roasted meat, I cut meat, I went quadding through the slough, I saw cows, and wheat, and buffalo, and horses, I roasted marshmellows and shotgunned beers, I had a summer fling with my friend's cousin, and we made out like 14 year olds in the hay loft and under the stars, and in the freak torrential downpour. The whole thing was so innocent and playful and juvenile: picking hay out of eachother's hair, losing an earring in the grass, getting thrown into the pool, worrying about getting caught by his parents. It makes me giggle and blush just to think of it...Of course it didn't help that his family thought the whole thing was worth a good tease, and he - the bastard - decided to sleep in late this morning and let me take the bulk of the ribbing. I guess I can still blush like a 14 year old too.
He woke up in time for his family to bust out the arsenal for some target practice. This whole weekend I fought the city slicker label...and I was enthusiastic to try shooting. This enthusiasm turned to pure fear as soon as the first shot was fired. I'm jumpy as hell and the guns were really loud...much louder than I had expected - especially the shot guns. Every time someone shot a gun I jumped two feet in the air, and he thought this was really funny. So, in spite, I decided that I was going to fire a damn gun if it was the last thing I did. They gave me a hand gun and a whole list of instructions and pointed me towards the target. I fired the first bullet and it was so loud that my ears rang, and the kick back was way more than I thought so...involuntarily...I screamed. Well it was more like a shriek, really...but apparently this was the funniest thing ever. I made it through the rest of the clip...badly. They kept on telling me to hold the gun steady, or to hold my breath before firing...and I tried...but the fact of the matter is I was shaking so badly, I couldn't have hit an elephant at ten paces. So maybe I exaggerate slightly, but the point is that I have no further desire to ever shoot a gun ever again - I suck at it, and it scares the crap out of me.
As an aside, one thing that has changed from summer flings when I was14 is beard burn. Admittedly, I do find the whole stubble experience damn sexy in a somewhat masochistic, Marlboro man kind of fashion (I believe that I'm somewhat compromising my independent/feminist side here but what the hell, I'm still on a sort of high). However, just like hickies in highschool, come work/school you still have to come up with lame excuses for the bleeding obvious. Cue the giggles and blushing.
So this weekend I went out to my friend's farm. It was damn hot yesterday...37 degrees at one point. There was a fantastic electrical storm - my first prairie electrical storm - which was spectacular with the lightening forks on the horizon, and the distinct storm systems in the clouds above. The whole weekend was an adventure in itself: we roasted meat, I cut meat, I went quadding through the slough, I saw cows, and wheat, and buffalo, and horses, I roasted marshmellows and shotgunned beers, I had a summer fling with my friend's cousin, and we made out like 14 year olds in the hay loft and under the stars, and in the freak torrential downpour. The whole thing was so innocent and playful and juvenile: picking hay out of eachother's hair, losing an earring in the grass, getting thrown into the pool, worrying about getting caught by his parents. It makes me giggle and blush just to think of it...Of course it didn't help that his family thought the whole thing was worth a good tease, and he - the bastard - decided to sleep in late this morning and let me take the bulk of the ribbing. I guess I can still blush like a 14 year old too.
He woke up in time for his family to bust out the arsenal for some target practice. This whole weekend I fought the city slicker label...and I was enthusiastic to try shooting. This enthusiasm turned to pure fear as soon as the first shot was fired. I'm jumpy as hell and the guns were really loud...much louder than I had expected - especially the shot guns. Every time someone shot a gun I jumped two feet in the air, and he thought this was really funny. So, in spite, I decided that I was going to fire a damn gun if it was the last thing I did. They gave me a hand gun and a whole list of instructions and pointed me towards the target. I fired the first bullet and it was so loud that my ears rang, and the kick back was way more than I thought so...involuntarily...I screamed. Well it was more like a shriek, really...but apparently this was the funniest thing ever. I made it through the rest of the clip...badly. They kept on telling me to hold the gun steady, or to hold my breath before firing...and I tried...but the fact of the matter is I was shaking so badly, I couldn't have hit an elephant at ten paces. So maybe I exaggerate slightly, but the point is that I have no further desire to ever shoot a gun ever again - I suck at it, and it scares the crap out of me.
As an aside, one thing that has changed from summer flings when I was14 is beard burn. Admittedly, I do find the whole stubble experience damn sexy in a somewhat masochistic, Marlboro man kind of fashion (I believe that I'm somewhat compromising my independent/feminist side here but what the hell, I'm still on a sort of high). However, just like hickies in highschool, come work/school you still have to come up with lame excuses for the bleeding obvious. Cue the giggles and blushing.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Suspension of Reality
I love that time when you meet someone and the possibilities are seemingly endless.
Does that ever last???
Does that ever last???
Friday, July 21, 2006
Approaching Redneck??
Ok...so I've wholly welcomed country music and two-stepping into my life. This is not to say that I have any less appreciation for the music I used to listen to...but I've added country music...I can admit it (although I intensely dislike that "Save a Horse, ride a cowboy song"...intensely dislike).
But despite this foray into truck-driving, quad-riding, two-stepping, yeehawing redneck country, I consider myself to have remained relatively urban. However, what I am considering doing right now may be past the point of no return. I am considering getting my gun license?? Apparently on the farm there are gophers which people like to shoot (apparently they are a pain in the ass)...and apparently goose hunting is the thing to do. And for the record, I would pluck the goose myself...I can do it. But I'm told that you can pay $5 at the nearest Hutterite colony and they will pluck and butcher it for you - where am I living anyways?? (FYI, the Hutterites make absolutely fantastic Saskatoon Berry Pie...yum)
So my dad also needs to get my boating license so I can handle the sailboat by myself. I figure that maybe if I take the two simultaneously, the boating thing will dilute the sheer redneckness of the gun license...maybe??
But despite this foray into truck-driving, quad-riding, two-stepping, yeehawing redneck country, I consider myself to have remained relatively urban. However, what I am considering doing right now may be past the point of no return. I am considering getting my gun license?? Apparently on the farm there are gophers which people like to shoot (apparently they are a pain in the ass)...and apparently goose hunting is the thing to do. And for the record, I would pluck the goose myself...I can do it. But I'm told that you can pay $5 at the nearest Hutterite colony and they will pluck and butcher it for you - where am I living anyways?? (FYI, the Hutterites make absolutely fantastic Saskatoon Berry Pie...yum)
So my dad also needs to get my boating license so I can handle the sailboat by myself. I figure that maybe if I take the two simultaneously, the boating thing will dilute the sheer redneckness of the gun license...maybe??
Canola fields and cloud gazing
I'm heading out to one of my friend's farms tomorrow this weekend. It's out in the middle of no where...nothing but fields of canola and the enormous Alberta sky surround it.
These are two of my absolute favorite things about Alberta. The canola fields are so incredibly beautiful; acres of brilliant yellow...like a technicolor carpet. It calls to mind the vibrant picture of picked chili peppers in India, covering the ground, drying in the sun. But the image is soft, too...the stalks waving in the wind, the delicate flowers shivering in the breeze.
The sky is something that must be seen to be fully appreciated. I grew up in Vancouver, land of mountains and ocean and skyscrapers - sky, interrupted. Here it's different...the sky seems bigger, more expansive. Looking around, surrounded by flat flat prairie, you truly have an appreciation for the concavity of the atmosphere. It's quite humbling actually, how vast and enormous it is.
Yesterday afternoon after work I went to meet my friend for a game of tennis. I arrived early, or she was running late...not sure which, and so I lay down in the shade of a maple tree and stared up at the sky. There was no one around really...the odd magpie or squirrel to keep me company...and it was pretty awesome. It's been a long time since I've done that...just taken five minutes to stare up at the sky, and contemplate nothing but the shape of the clouds.
These are two of my absolute favorite things about Alberta. The canola fields are so incredibly beautiful; acres of brilliant yellow...like a technicolor carpet. It calls to mind the vibrant picture of picked chili peppers in India, covering the ground, drying in the sun. But the image is soft, too...the stalks waving in the wind, the delicate flowers shivering in the breeze.
The sky is something that must be seen to be fully appreciated. I grew up in Vancouver, land of mountains and ocean and skyscrapers - sky, interrupted. Here it's different...the sky seems bigger, more expansive. Looking around, surrounded by flat flat prairie, you truly have an appreciation for the concavity of the atmosphere. It's quite humbling actually, how vast and enormous it is.
Yesterday afternoon after work I went to meet my friend for a game of tennis. I arrived early, or she was running late...not sure which, and so I lay down in the shade of a maple tree and stared up at the sky. There was no one around really...the odd magpie or squirrel to keep me company...and it was pretty awesome. It's been a long time since I've done that...just taken five minutes to stare up at the sky, and contemplate nothing but the shape of the clouds.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
My Secret Addiction
I have a guilty secret....I am addicted to the shopping channel. I've never bought anything...it's not that kind of addiction. I just like to watch it. It's like a gory traffic accident for me, or an awful train wreck. I just can't help myself. I find it amusing, horrifying and completely preposterous...it is MY reality tv. Especially they clothing segments - about the only place on earth where someone will try and convince you to buy elastic waistband pants, and material described only as "slinky."
Mmm...it's great! Thankfully I don't have cable, so my opportunities to view are minimal...especially because for some reason no one else seems to share my passion and therefore cannot bear to watch with me. So it remains a treat...like a chocolate truffle or a spoonful of caviar, I suppose.
Hey...I KNOW how many are equally addicted to celebrity rags...because that is seriously quality reading material.
Mmm...it's great! Thankfully I don't have cable, so my opportunities to view are minimal...especially because for some reason no one else seems to share my passion and therefore cannot bear to watch with me. So it remains a treat...like a chocolate truffle or a spoonful of caviar, I suppose.
Hey...I KNOW how many are equally addicted to celebrity rags...because that is seriously quality reading material.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Once Bitten...
I'm doing some negotiating with a Crown right now and she's being ever so helpful, and I'm learning so much. But in the back of my mind all I can think about is last time I had what I thought was this kind of rapport with a Crown, I wound up getting suckered in, looking like a COMPLETE ass in court, and coming thisclose to screwing over my principal.
In an ideal world, this is how things should be...Crowns should not be out to convict, per se, but rather should seek to uphold the rule of law, and seek out truth - if that results in acquittals, then so be it. But who am I kidding?? The system is adversarial by nature - there are winners and there are losers. But where does that leave people like me who are still unsure of the procedures and the ropes etc? To a certain extent we have to rely on others to assist us in our learning...and this includes the Crowns. I guess the trick is to never commit yourself to a corner that does not have a back way out...hmmm...easier said than done.
In an ideal world, this is how things should be...Crowns should not be out to convict, per se, but rather should seek to uphold the rule of law, and seek out truth - if that results in acquittals, then so be it. But who am I kidding?? The system is adversarial by nature - there are winners and there are losers. But where does that leave people like me who are still unsure of the procedures and the ropes etc? To a certain extent we have to rely on others to assist us in our learning...and this includes the Crowns. I guess the trick is to never commit yourself to a corner that does not have a back way out...hmmm...easier said than done.
Monday, July 17, 2006
One MILLION Percent [insert booming voice here]
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people talk about how certain they are about something, or how much effort they are going to put in, or how supportive they are, and they use anything over 100%.
"Oh, he supports me 350%"
"I am 650% sure that he is my baby-daddy" - this raises another pet peeve - baby-daddy? Like baby-bump or other like phrases...who decided that those were examples of acceptable English??
"I put, like, one million percent effort in, and they still fired me"
What is this about anyways?? One hundred percent is one hundred percent...there is no more...that is complete, that is entire, that is all that is available....the pie runneth over after that. Anything more is completely illogical and impossible, and it drives me nuts!!
I sort of understand the 110% percent expression - everything and then some - I can cope with that...but it's just gotten completely out of hand. AARGH!!!
"Oh, he supports me 350%"
"I am 650% sure that he is my baby-daddy" - this raises another pet peeve - baby-daddy? Like baby-bump or other like phrases...who decided that those were examples of acceptable English??
"I put, like, one million percent effort in, and they still fired me"
What is this about anyways?? One hundred percent is one hundred percent...there is no more...that is complete, that is entire, that is all that is available....the pie runneth over after that. Anything more is completely illogical and impossible, and it drives me nuts!!
I sort of understand the 110% percent expression - everything and then some - I can cope with that...but it's just gotten completely out of hand. AARGH!!!
Pedro the Pain
It seemed like such a good idea to get a car; needed it for work...freedom...independence...convenience. But truly, it is a huge pain in the ass.
Pedro is named for his gold colour, which to me meant he was from either Arizona, or Mexico...and he suited Pedro better than Jack, or Bill or someother name befitting a transplanted retiree from Phoenix. Thus, he was christened Pedro The Mexican Jalopy.
And between his battery problems, what I'm sure is a fuel injection problem (don't ask me how I know, because I know zip about cars), and my pervasive and expensive parking issues, he is a handful and a constant stress for me. Who needs a child, when you have a car to take care of?? But seriously, in my lengthening pro/con Vancouver/Alberta list, a dearth of affordable/free monthly/resident parking in downtown is definitely a con. I will never ever understand how a city/province so rich in oil/drivers is so user un-friendly for said drivers.
Speaking of frustrating...this brings me to my beef with Alberta drivers. They must be the most passive-aggressive drivers I have ever encountered in my life. Drivers in Alberta seem to cruise along at two kilometers below the speed limit in general...but then you go to pass them and they suddenly speed up so as to prevent you from making any headway. Then back down to 48, and this continues until you pull a nifty Mario Andretti fake out, and pass them on the inside of the hairpin turn. And forget the two cars turning left through the orange light rule...drivers in Alberta barely stick their noses out into the intersection, and then wait until the red light is long stale before turning. Merging too, is a hopeless cause.
In all fairness, it's not just the drivers that make me want to tear my hair out. The city has no rhyme nor reason to its road management. I understand that there is a lot of construction going in on in the city, but is it necessary to clean the only remaining artery out of downtown right smack in the middle of rush hour traffic?? And how about an advanced left once in awhile, or coordinated lights through downtown. Ai ya!!!
Pedro is named for his gold colour, which to me meant he was from either Arizona, or Mexico...and he suited Pedro better than Jack, or Bill or someother name befitting a transplanted retiree from Phoenix. Thus, he was christened Pedro The Mexican Jalopy.
And between his battery problems, what I'm sure is a fuel injection problem (don't ask me how I know, because I know zip about cars), and my pervasive and expensive parking issues, he is a handful and a constant stress for me. Who needs a child, when you have a car to take care of?? But seriously, in my lengthening pro/con Vancouver/Alberta list, a dearth of affordable/free monthly/resident parking in downtown is definitely a con. I will never ever understand how a city/province so rich in oil/drivers is so user un-friendly for said drivers.
Speaking of frustrating...this brings me to my beef with Alberta drivers. They must be the most passive-aggressive drivers I have ever encountered in my life. Drivers in Alberta seem to cruise along at two kilometers below the speed limit in general...but then you go to pass them and they suddenly speed up so as to prevent you from making any headway. Then back down to 48, and this continues until you pull a nifty Mario Andretti fake out, and pass them on the inside of the hairpin turn. And forget the two cars turning left through the orange light rule...drivers in Alberta barely stick their noses out into the intersection, and then wait until the red light is long stale before turning. Merging too, is a hopeless cause.
In all fairness, it's not just the drivers that make me want to tear my hair out. The city has no rhyme nor reason to its road management. I understand that there is a lot of construction going in on in the city, but is it necessary to clean the only remaining artery out of downtown right smack in the middle of rush hour traffic?? And how about an advanced left once in awhile, or coordinated lights through downtown. Ai ya!!!
The Secret Life of Bees
I've just finished reading this book, by Sue Monk Kidd, and I was absolutely enchanted. Told through the eyes of a teenage girl, she addresses issues of prejudice and racism, of bereavement, and of love with such sensitivity and with such honesty. It was an easy read, a quick read, but has stuck with me because, I think, it was so full of truth.
"The first week at August's was a consolation, a pure relief. The world will give you that once in a while, a brief time-out; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life." - The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
"The first week at August's was a consolation, a pure relief. The world will give you that once in a while, a brief time-out; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life." - The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
Daydreaming
One of my secret, in my heart of hearts, desires is to front a band...to be a rock goddess a la Pat Benetar, or the girls from Heart, or the original - Stevie Nicks - husky voiced, ripped jeans, wild hair, edgy, don't give a fuck attitude, and just dripping with sex appeal. Alas, despite my dabbles in bad ass, I'm way too Pollyanna, way too uptight, and just not that talented. Thus, my vocal stylings are relegated to the shower, or to dancing with the vaccuum cleaner.
I just bought my friend Darla's, or I should say Dasha's (as she is known in the music world) new CD, and it is fantastic. I'm forever humming one tune or another that's on my mind...but it's a funny feeling when you realize that that tune is one written by your friend...a combination of excitement, and pride and joy and irony and surrealism all together.
But Dasha truly is a rocker chick...cut from the same cloth. Her music is so interesting - classically trained pianist with a beautiful, sweet, huge range voice, and rough, edgy, break-your heart, tell-it-like-it-is lyrics. I'm no music critic, but I know music that, at the risk of sounding trite, speaks to me and that knows what it's talking about...and hers does. It makes me think, it makes me heal, and it makes me dream, once again, of being a rocker chick too...
http://www.dashapostnikova.com/
I just bought my friend Darla's, or I should say Dasha's (as she is known in the music world) new CD, and it is fantastic. I'm forever humming one tune or another that's on my mind...but it's a funny feeling when you realize that that tune is one written by your friend...a combination of excitement, and pride and joy and irony and surrealism all together.
But Dasha truly is a rocker chick...cut from the same cloth. Her music is so interesting - classically trained pianist with a beautiful, sweet, huge range voice, and rough, edgy, break-your heart, tell-it-like-it-is lyrics. I'm no music critic, but I know music that, at the risk of sounding trite, speaks to me and that knows what it's talking about...and hers does. It makes me think, it makes me heal, and it makes me dream, once again, of being a rocker chick too...
http://www.dashapostnikova.com/
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Skepticism
I've always loved the idea of keeping a journal. When I was a kid I used to get these beautiful notebooks and I'd write in them for a little while, with these notions that I was being all profound and thoughtful. Then after a bit I'd just abandon them. My mother always gives me a rough time about being so enthusiastic at the beginning of a task, and then never finishing it.
So is this blog going to be any different?? Well, I'm abandoning the whole "dear diary" concept...not going with any sort of theme...I'm not particularly eloquent, not particularly creative, not particularly impassioned, not particularly disciplined...but I do have an awful lot of thoughts that rumble around in my mind, keeping me awake at night, that I would love to share with my friends that live too far away, and that I miss terribly. So perhaps this is a good way to share them, and to keep in touch...and perhaps I will keep it up...or perhaps I will abandon it. Sooner or later I'm going to have to stick with something. Right??
So is this blog going to be any different?? Well, I'm abandoning the whole "dear diary" concept...not going with any sort of theme...I'm not particularly eloquent, not particularly creative, not particularly impassioned, not particularly disciplined...but I do have an awful lot of thoughts that rumble around in my mind, keeping me awake at night, that I would love to share with my friends that live too far away, and that I miss terribly. So perhaps this is a good way to share them, and to keep in touch...and perhaps I will keep it up...or perhaps I will abandon it. Sooner or later I'm going to have to stick with something. Right??
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