It just occured to me that part of the reason I am so terrible at keeping at my own blog is that I'm busy following the blogs of others. Almost every morning, I get out of bed at least two hours before I have to leave the house. The first hour is spent sipping coffee, usually while wrapped in a blanket, poking around the internet. The majority of my bookmarks that I check daily (or even multiple times daily) are design and "pretty things" blogs. Anything that's not actually interior design, I classify as "pretty things". Recipes, photography, images of flowers and teacups on sunny tables, etc. So, I'm too busy admiring to create right now. I'll get there. In the meantime, some of my current favourites:
http://leloveimage.blogspot.com/
http://www.designspongeonline.com/
http://www.desiretoinspire.blogspot.com/
http://absolutelynotmartha.blogspot.com/
http://heart-of-light.blogspot.com/
http://www.youaremyfave.com/
Please enjoy with sun streaming through your window, music playing unobtrusively in the background, and your hot beverage of choice in your favourite mug.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
No longer being a student has caused me to completely lose track of time. Everytime I think about what day it is, my first guess is always wrong. Apparently, I am also confused as to what month I'm existing in.
The other night, I decided life called for red wine (life calls for red wine VERY often - demanding, really). I toddled on up to the liquor store and bought my uber-classy $9.45 bottle of screw-top Frontera merlot. (Hey, desperate times.) While I was next door to Sobey's, I figured I would pick up a couple of quick items. I grabbed a can of chickpeas and a can of tomato sauce, which I later combined with baby spinach to make a delicious supper. I also picked up a container of cream cheese, which I was delighted to find on sale. An obsessive expiry date-checker, I assessed that I had loads of time to go through said cream cheese.
The next morning, I had in the shower a rare moment of time-awareness, and recalled the date on the cream cheese I had just purchased (but not yet opened). I then swore out loud, because I realized that the date in question was March 27. Upon finishing my shower, I double-checked. Yes, indeed, my cream cheese had been expired for a week and a half.
Good thing it was on sale.
The other night, I decided life called for red wine (life calls for red wine VERY often - demanding, really). I toddled on up to the liquor store and bought my uber-classy $9.45 bottle of screw-top Frontera merlot. (Hey, desperate times.) While I was next door to Sobey's, I figured I would pick up a couple of quick items. I grabbed a can of chickpeas and a can of tomato sauce, which I later combined with baby spinach to make a delicious supper. I also picked up a container of cream cheese, which I was delighted to find on sale. An obsessive expiry date-checker, I assessed that I had loads of time to go through said cream cheese.
The next morning, I had in the shower a rare moment of time-awareness, and recalled the date on the cream cheese I had just purchased (but not yet opened). I then swore out loud, because I realized that the date in question was March 27. Upon finishing my shower, I double-checked. Yes, indeed, my cream cheese had been expired for a week and a half.
Good thing it was on sale.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Reasons why March beats the pants off of February.
1. Sidewalks! As of today, at least where I've been, there's more clear sidewalk than not. There are some stubborn ice patches, but most times of day, it's no big deal to dart off the sidewalk for a moment to get around them.
2. Warmth and sunshine! For the majority of January and February, I had the heat cranked and had to rock all of the winter gear even for a quick trip outside. In the last week, I have worn my winter coat MAYBE three times, and my hat just a couple times more (it keeps my hair out of my eyes). I am aware that half of "the last week" fell in February, but the three snowstorms in the preceding week robbed said month of any claim on decent weather.
3. Grant! Boy returns for a week (hopefully), and sooner than expected. Possibly even in time for St. Patrick's Day. February was grossly Grant-less.
4. St. Patrick's Day! When I celebrate the part of my heritage that most endorses being drunk a great deal of the time.
5. The final month of classes for my friends who are still slaving away at their undergraduate degrees. The end of classes and exams shortly thereafter means more time with my beauties!
2. Warmth and sunshine! For the majority of January and February, I had the heat cranked and had to rock all of the winter gear even for a quick trip outside. In the last week, I have worn my winter coat MAYBE three times, and my hat just a couple times more (it keeps my hair out of my eyes). I am aware that half of "the last week" fell in February, but the three snowstorms in the preceding week robbed said month of any claim on decent weather.
3. Grant! Boy returns for a week (hopefully), and sooner than expected. Possibly even in time for St. Patrick's Day. February was grossly Grant-less.
4. St. Patrick's Day! When I celebrate the part of my heritage that most endorses being drunk a great deal of the time.
5. The final month of classes for my friends who are still slaving away at their undergraduate degrees. The end of classes and exams shortly thereafter means more time with my beauties!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Social interaction for the win.
Having just come from a lovely supper at the Bagel Cafe with Maggie, I am pondering friendships and the many types of which I've been a part. Over my time in St. John's, I have found an almost unfair (to others) number of amazing friends. Never before have I felt so at ease around so many people. I realize that one element of this is reaching adulthood, but I know that it's not the only one.
I think of the friendships that my mother has. The ones that have lasted decades despite the fact that contact only happens a few times a year, at most. Yet, she sits down with these people over a bottle of wine and they talk for hours about everything under the sun. This is how I am with Maggie, and many others. Whether we see each other every second day or once a month our conversations are a beautiful mess of segues and tangents and forgetting where we began.
I think of the friendships that my mother has. The ones that have lasted decades despite the fact that contact only happens a few times a year, at most. Yet, she sits down with these people over a bottle of wine and they talk for hours about everything under the sun. This is how I am with Maggie, and many others. Whether we see each other every second day or once a month our conversations are a beautiful mess of segues and tangents and forgetting where we began.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
I'm a twelve-year-old boy.
This chick has a paper route. Georgestown, here I come.
I joked to Grant the other day after I had sent the first email inquiring about the routes that I have reverted to job options normally reserved for elementary school aged children. Yesterday, both Jonny and Joey called me a twelve-year-old boy. And I am taking over a route that was left open by, you guessed it, a twelve-year-old boy. Life is cute, and some stereotypes are true.
I joked to Grant the other day after I had sent the first email inquiring about the routes that I have reverted to job options normally reserved for elementary school aged children. Yesterday, both Jonny and Joey called me a twelve-year-old boy. And I am taking over a route that was left open by, you guessed it, a twelve-year-old boy. Life is cute, and some stereotypes are true.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Effort at regular blogging # 496
I've said it before, but now I have no excuse. I am no longer in school (whoa) and right now I'm only technically employed (no shifts). I've started thinking in blog entries again, which is a little bit odd, but anything that gets me thinking and writing is worthwhile. More productive, certainly, than thinking in Facebook status updates, which I also do.
I've had so many ideas to write about that getting started has become unnecessarily daunting, so I'm going to start small. In the initial entry of what will become a regular exercise, I will deal with a couple of things that I encountered on the internet this morning as I leisurely consumed my lifeforces (coffee and eggs).
Let's get the dumbest one out of the way first. I didn't want to dignify this ridiculous business with any sort of acknowledgement, but at the risk of a messy verbal explosion at an inconvenient time, here it is. Celebrity gossip is absolutely silly, but this Jessica Simpson thing is getting out of hand. My issue is not with the amount that it's been discussed - apparently Barack Obama commented? I don't want to know - but that it's so ludicrous to begin with. I've seen the pictures that spawned the whole damn thing, and the woman is not overweight!! This is fucking nuts. I know that our culture has a horribly skewed sense of health and beauty, but this has reached a new low. She has hips and tits. She does not look unhealthy, and would not turn heads as plump if she wasn't being compared to images of her former skeletal self. The fact that she had to give in to that pressure to become successful in the first place is upsetting, but she is to be commended on now portraying how a woman is supposed to be shaped. From everything else I've heard about Jessica Simpson, she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but good on her for this. Now she'll not be famous, of course, and won't make as powerful an example. Fucking hell.
The rest of this post will be less angry, promise.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/feb/05/ebooks-ethical-living
This article was the best defense of these gadgets that I've heard. I appreciated it because the author began by expressing sentiments that I share, especially that "the mere presence of a large number of books induces a profound sense of wellbeing." Absolutely. My living space would have no soul without my stuffed bookcase.
Despite our similarities in views of physical books, I can't get on board with her. She claims to love the tactile experience of reading a book, yet can so easily move to holding a single piece of technology, virtually turning pages and marking notes in the margins with a stylus. Perhaps this is just my aversion to technology. As much as I depend on it, I hate it. It's complex, and goes apeshit at crucial times. I spend money on newspapers because I find reading them online infuriating. I will read every last word in a printed paper, just to extend the activity, where I give up on virtual ones within about ten minutes. Computers are too sterile, too cold. There's no soul in a computer. Yes, the words are the same, but the words are not the whole deal. When I have finished reading a book once, it looks like it has been through battle. I'm talking creased or broken spine, beat up and dog-eared corners, coffee stains, etc. Not to mention brackets, stars, and notes. After several reads, the book becomes even more beautiful because all of these things have been repeated.
From a book design perspective, the fact that the words are the same holds little weight. The presentation of text is of the utmost importance. I think a lot of people would take issue with her assertion that it doesn't matter.
That being said, I think she presented a good argument. She acknowledges that there is an environmental impact from this technology as well as from paper books, something I think has been largely ignored in this debate. I just don't want to give up my books.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/feb/05/michael-rosen-english
I stumbled upon this and it struck me. Anyone who knows me is aware that for someone who never wants to procreate, I have some pretty strong opinions on parenting. I am continually amazed at how little people read, because they've never developed the habit. The entire time I was growing up, I had my head in a book. Before I could read, I memorized from my parents' reading. Despite the failures of my education system, reading is how I managed to develop any grasp of the English language. Kids need to read. Giving grammar lessons when the concepts are not being understood on an active level is pointless. Michael Rosen claims that the issue is that kids are being taught to read, but not to enjoy, books. I think that in a lot of cases they're not being taught either, but I also think that the two go hand in hand. If kids are exposed to reading, and are put in positions where they have to, they will learn to enjoy. If for no other reason than they'll actually know what's going on.
I've had so many ideas to write about that getting started has become unnecessarily daunting, so I'm going to start small. In the initial entry of what will become a regular exercise, I will deal with a couple of things that I encountered on the internet this morning as I leisurely consumed my lifeforces (coffee and eggs).
Let's get the dumbest one out of the way first. I didn't want to dignify this ridiculous business with any sort of acknowledgement, but at the risk of a messy verbal explosion at an inconvenient time, here it is. Celebrity gossip is absolutely silly, but this Jessica Simpson thing is getting out of hand. My issue is not with the amount that it's been discussed - apparently Barack Obama commented? I don't want to know - but that it's so ludicrous to begin with. I've seen the pictures that spawned the whole damn thing, and the woman is not overweight!! This is fucking nuts. I know that our culture has a horribly skewed sense of health and beauty, but this has reached a new low. She has hips and tits. She does not look unhealthy, and would not turn heads as plump if she wasn't being compared to images of her former skeletal self. The fact that she had to give in to that pressure to become successful in the first place is upsetting, but she is to be commended on now portraying how a woman is supposed to be shaped. From everything else I've heard about Jessica Simpson, she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but good on her for this. Now she'll not be famous, of course, and won't make as powerful an example. Fucking hell.
The rest of this post will be less angry, promise.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/feb/05/ebooks-ethical-living
This article was the best defense of these gadgets that I've heard. I appreciated it because the author began by expressing sentiments that I share, especially that "the mere presence of a large number of books induces a profound sense of wellbeing." Absolutely. My living space would have no soul without my stuffed bookcase.
Despite our similarities in views of physical books, I can't get on board with her. She claims to love the tactile experience of reading a book, yet can so easily move to holding a single piece of technology, virtually turning pages and marking notes in the margins with a stylus. Perhaps this is just my aversion to technology. As much as I depend on it, I hate it. It's complex, and goes apeshit at crucial times. I spend money on newspapers because I find reading them online infuriating. I will read every last word in a printed paper, just to extend the activity, where I give up on virtual ones within about ten minutes. Computers are too sterile, too cold. There's no soul in a computer. Yes, the words are the same, but the words are not the whole deal. When I have finished reading a book once, it looks like it has been through battle. I'm talking creased or broken spine, beat up and dog-eared corners, coffee stains, etc. Not to mention brackets, stars, and notes. After several reads, the book becomes even more beautiful because all of these things have been repeated.
From a book design perspective, the fact that the words are the same holds little weight. The presentation of text is of the utmost importance. I think a lot of people would take issue with her assertion that it doesn't matter.
That being said, I think she presented a good argument. She acknowledges that there is an environmental impact from this technology as well as from paper books, something I think has been largely ignored in this debate. I just don't want to give up my books.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/feb/05/michael-rosen-english
I stumbled upon this and it struck me. Anyone who knows me is aware that for someone who never wants to procreate, I have some pretty strong opinions on parenting. I am continually amazed at how little people read, because they've never developed the habit. The entire time I was growing up, I had my head in a book. Before I could read, I memorized from my parents' reading. Despite the failures of my education system, reading is how I managed to develop any grasp of the English language. Kids need to read. Giving grammar lessons when the concepts are not being understood on an active level is pointless. Michael Rosen claims that the issue is that kids are being taught to read, but not to enjoy, books. I think that in a lot of cases they're not being taught either, but I also think that the two go hand in hand. If kids are exposed to reading, and are put in positions where they have to, they will learn to enjoy. If for no other reason than they'll actually know what's going on.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Here it is!
Two weeks ago, this post would have been a work of fiction. Not the sentiments, but the...announcement.
I am moving back to Halifax.
Not right away. My timing will be similar to that of my intended escape to Vancouver. I am moving back to Halifax because of my family. Nothing new has happened. There's no emergency that has prompted me to change my destination so drastically. I'm just very fond of them, is all. The distance between St. John's and Halifax has been difficult enough. It's not that I don't think I can handle living in Vancouver. I know I can, and this idea is what makes me comfortable with not going now. I may still make the drastic move to the West coast. I just won't do it yet.
My basic reasoning for ignoring Halifax as an option these last two years has been the emotional baggage. There's a challenge to living in the town/city where you were raised, especially when you have had a chance to move so far beyond it. I have thought that no matter the positive aspects of living in Halifax, I would not be able to stay happy with all of that weighing on me.
I don't doubt that I will have moments, especially when I have reason to go back to Bedford on occasion. My mother still lives there. Until I can convince her to get the fuck out, that will be a reality. But, for the most part, I will keep my existence in the city of Halifax. And it really is a fine city.
Once I started considering the ups to being close to my family again, I got very excited. I have arranged with my younger sister to live together. Her current lease expires the end of June, so that will dictate the timing of my move somewhat. We have already started looking for apartments, hoping to find something with character in the North or South end (she goes to Dal).
The emotional baggage seems so minor now. I am already getting giddy about living with my sister, being half an hour away from my mother, mere hours away from my father in PEI, spending silly times with my best friend since childhood, having access to delicious and diverse food choices, possibly taking continuing studies at NSCAD, and generally taking in Halifax in a way I couldn't before - through being there by choice, rather than by default.
My only real concern is what I'm going to drink when I can no longer get my hands on Black Horse.
I am moving back to Halifax.
Not right away. My timing will be similar to that of my intended escape to Vancouver. I am moving back to Halifax because of my family. Nothing new has happened. There's no emergency that has prompted me to change my destination so drastically. I'm just very fond of them, is all. The distance between St. John's and Halifax has been difficult enough. It's not that I don't think I can handle living in Vancouver. I know I can, and this idea is what makes me comfortable with not going now. I may still make the drastic move to the West coast. I just won't do it yet.
My basic reasoning for ignoring Halifax as an option these last two years has been the emotional baggage. There's a challenge to living in the town/city where you were raised, especially when you have had a chance to move so far beyond it. I have thought that no matter the positive aspects of living in Halifax, I would not be able to stay happy with all of that weighing on me.
I don't doubt that I will have moments, especially when I have reason to go back to Bedford on occasion. My mother still lives there. Until I can convince her to get the fuck out, that will be a reality. But, for the most part, I will keep my existence in the city of Halifax. And it really is a fine city.
Once I started considering the ups to being close to my family again, I got very excited. I have arranged with my younger sister to live together. Her current lease expires the end of June, so that will dictate the timing of my move somewhat. We have already started looking for apartments, hoping to find something with character in the North or South end (she goes to Dal).
The emotional baggage seems so minor now. I am already getting giddy about living with my sister, being half an hour away from my mother, mere hours away from my father in PEI, spending silly times with my best friend since childhood, having access to delicious and diverse food choices, possibly taking continuing studies at NSCAD, and generally taking in Halifax in a way I couldn't before - through being there by choice, rather than by default.
My only real concern is what I'm going to drink when I can no longer get my hands on Black Horse.
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