The Habit of Happiness

2010-02-23T20:18:00.002-08:00

Well, I've found a studio. Paid for the first month's rent today, got my keys, the code. Twenty-four hour access. A skylight. And as far as I know, Carlie still wants to share... come to think of it, I forgot to ask the landlord if that was acceptable... I was SO FOCUSED on getting the studio that I probably forgot to ask a few important questions!

You know that feeling you get when you are really very busy, and your time just seems to unspool; every moment is used up. And when someone asks you, "what have you been up to?" you have no answer for them. Not that the things you have been doing are pointless, or useless, or even not worth mentioning; it's just that you are so full of the DOING that you don't have time to process what it is that is being ACCOMPLISHED. That's my life right now. I am cooking and cleaning and preparing to move into a new apartment and into the studio; I have been working long days. I have been studying. I have been preparing myself mentally to launch myself into a new realm of serious creativity and playful business. I have been teaching and playing wallyball and watching movies and walking and dreaming and scheming and wishing that I just had a few more hours every day to write letters and keep in touch with people and be the friend I wish I had.

I'm not saying I don't have friends. I have wonderful friends. But I don't seem to have the time to be a really good friend; I still have the 'Welcome, Baby Girl!' card for my oldest friend's baby (born last October) in my closet. I'm not sure that I have my priorities straight. I am in the process of evaluating, rebalancing. Figuring out what it is in life that I REALLY want. I'm being open to opportunities, serendipitous events (to find out more about this, look up Krumboltz's Planned Happenstance Theory). Being curious, flexible, and optimistic. Being ready.

Good things are happening; I won't get into it. In fact, I think I'm really ready to retire this blog. Not because I'm fed up, or because I don't have time to write, or because I don't think I have valuable things to say. But because I'm ready for it to be done, for it to leave my life and to open up new avenues of creativity. It's been wonderful. I suppose if I ever start travelling again, living abroad again, I'll take it up once again. But for now...

It's been a slice.

Namaste.

2010-01-06T10:58:00.002-08:00

I asked my students to write about their Christmas vacations or their new year's resolutions... it wouldn't be fair if I didn't do the same. Here I go...

My New Year's Resolutions for 2010

Be patient and secure in the thought that the universe is unfolding as it should.

Find more purpose and passion in my life.

Eat more colourful foods.

Go back to Maui during the summer, and paint, paint, paint.

Paint, pant, paint... all the time.

Find a studio to share with Carlie.

Uphold my creative dreams as sacred and vital.

Respect my need for rest as much as I respect my need to work and my right to play.

Really understand all of the English verb tenses.

Manage my resources (time, money, food, relationships, inspiration) wisely, gratefully, and joyfully.

Finish more than 50% of what I start.

Defend my choices. Even against my own bitterness and doubts. Defend them!

Continue to be grateful for the goodness and gifts in my life.

Move forward.

2010-01-05T12:59:00.002-08:00

Yesterday was mom's 62nd birthday. It was snowing like crazy-- big wet flakes that stuck and weighed down branches and became glued in gobs to my heels as I made my treacherous way from my car to the Hooded Merganser to celebrate. Dave wore a black suit jacket and an unpressed white collared shirt; he looked gorgeous. Mom looked great too. She did a lovely job of her makeup and she wore a glittery black top. She's lost quite a bit of weight lately, and finally seems to be finding her feet again after the last few tumultuous years (leaving Port Edward, trying to sell the house up north, health issues, etc.) Dad was wearing a sweater; I couldn't see much of him across the table, as it was crowded with flowers mom had received for her birthday.

The snow fell and fell; it was dark and we couldn't see much of the lake outside the window. From where I was seated I had a view of the park that ends in the pier, so at least I could view the trees, sticky and weighted down with blobs of Betty Crocker's double-thick vanilla icing.

Dinner was nice. Just the four of us. Champagne. Mom ebullient with the attention, the joy of teasing the waiter, with the phone calls she had received over the course of the day from friends far and wide. We told jokes and read the horoscopes that I had printed out at work for all of us.

After dinner, I went home to get out of my heels and into my snow boots, my play clothes. I met Dave and Carlie back at their house. I drove and Dave and Carie took turns skitching-- a new term to me. (It means that they strapped on their snowboards and I towed them behind the car as they skimmed across lawns and driveways and over snow-shovel piles.) Then we built a family of four snow people, a snow bunny named Gobby, and a giant boosh-face snow man shaking his fist at the Wal-Mart parking lot. Then I went to bed.

A snow day. A happy birthday.

2010-01-05T12:50:00.002-08:00

Today I have been teaching my students about blogs. One of them already has a blog, written all in her native language, so that she can share the trials and tribulations of her Canadian life with her family and friends back in her home country.

The lesson has brought up a lot of questions about the purpose of blogging. More than 70,000,000 blogs (and this is a 2007 stat) have been created since 2003. Everyone supposedly has their 'unique perspective', a potential audience out there just dying to know exactly what we have all been up to. A community of likeminded people just waiting to connect . I'm sure.

2009-12-30T12:10:00.002-08:00

I think I have come to a strange place in the small history of my blog writing.

The writers write and write, and fill up their electronic lungs with vibrations from their egos and spirits, and spill syntax and hype and self-revelations into this glowing space.

Then comes the realization that the space we are spilling into is in fact, endless. Or as endless as the human mind is able to conceive of. I can never fill up this space. This 'book' will never be finished. And that depresses me a little. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe I should be glad to have such an unfurling, endless, open forum for my ramblings. But the orderly side of me is annoyed that there are no clean boundaries. It won't end until I am dead, or until I say 'The End'. The first option is too uncontrollable. The second is too final.

And so I post only occasionally, and often (I feel) pointlessly.

I post to fulfill the need of my ego to be heard. Why? The ego is a selfish noisemaker.

I post to fulfill the demands of others. Why? They aren't paying me for my words.

I post because it has become a fading habit, a small echo of the grand times when I was living and working abroad. I guess that's the main reason why I continue this charade. Because I am hoping that my life still has as much meaning and colour and vibrance as it did when I was living in Japan. I am thinking that if I still talk about myself, about what I am learning, about my daily (monthly) struggles, that perhaps I can imbue these mundane behaviours with some sort of meaning.

It's all so existential. I want it to have a purpose, a point.

Don't get me wrong; I enjoy my life. I have some pretty great things going on right now. I have a really fantastic condo that I share with a really fantastic girl. I have a fantastic job, a fantastic boyfriend, fantastic friends, and I occasionally have some fantastic fun. But I don't have a whole lot of passion, or discovery, or sparky-sparky-ness going on in my day-to-day grind. I feel like there are significant portions of joy that are stunningly absent from my life. And I don't know where to find them. And I'm not sure that talking about it here is going to help, you know?

2009-10-26T15:53:00.000-07:00

When I think back to October last year, I feel like I am looking over the terrain of a foreign landscape. How-- in the space of a year-- can I have had five jobs, had a stint back in school, lived in five homes in four different cities, struggled through a failed engagement and found a new love?

I know how. I just did it. I just followed my heart and did it.

I still have my doubts from time to time; it seems to be an essential sort of suffering for me. But basically, I am happy. And that’s what I was after. That’s all I will always be after.

I don’t chase happiness; I inhabit it. And I inhabit it best by being true to myself, by being honest and brutal, by destroying and rebuilding, by (in the words of my fabulous new room-mate) firing off rockets of desire. By choosing only to attract that which serves me best. By knowing myself well, and by treating myself in the way that I wish to be treated. By sharing my time and energy only with those who are able to reciprocate in a positive manner.

I am learning. The learning busts my (figurative) balls half the time, but it is so, SO worth it.

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

Next weekend I will be heading to Kamloops to celebrate Halloween (and my little brother’s 28^th birthday) WITH my little brother. I haven’t ever partied with my brother on his Halloween birthday; not unless you count the days when ‘partying’ meant a pumpkin-shaped cake and extra candy for the clever boy who declared “and it’s my birthday, too!” when we went trick-or-treating. I bought him a sweet toy submarine for his hot-tub. Hopefully he’s not reading my blog these days…

My job is super, I love my students. I just signed up four more today; it has been pretty quiet (classes of only two to six students typically), but now that the major apple-picking season is coming to an end, we can expect to see more of the agricultural workers filtering in. The students are from all over the planet; the only doubling-up I’ve had is with two Punjabi ladies… I had to give them different partners, they kept on giggling and whispering in Punjabi! It was pretty cute, but a bit distracting for the more ‘serious’ students.

I hope to get a sort of newsletter made up so that I can show all of the former students (who are not currently attending classes) what a blast we are having and entice them to come back. ELSA (English Language Services for Adults) provides free ESL to immigrants, so if I’m offering some cost-free educational fun, who is going to turn me down?

Moving is going all right as well. Dad, Dave and I made a run down to Chilliwack to attack the storage container this past Saturday. It was a long haul—dad saw it as just a ‘day’s work’ – four hours there, four hours back. I typically don’t like travelling anywhere without getting a chance to BE where I am, and I was a little resentful of Dave, who slept for most of the trip. I can’t blame him, seeing as he was pulling through the final stages of H1N1… awfully generous of him to come and spend his nominal amount of energy on sorting through the dross of my previous life, while dealing with the flu that is casually knocking off members of our generation. Anyway, we packed the two vehicles full (and I was sick with disgust that I own SO MUCH STUFF) and left the rest in the storage unit, which I will continue to pay for until… well, until I can figure out what to do with random kitchen items and art history books and other bewildering items that have no current relevance.

This evening I will empty the vehicles with dad and try to cram the stuff into the tiny condo and my tinier bedroom… despite my apprehension, I am deliriously happy to be out on my own (so to speak) again. The condo is within walking distance of work, and I will finally be living in town; no more morning commute. I will be good for the environment! Or better for it, anyway.

I just discovered this morning that my best friend Corrin had her baby, a little girl named Talia. She really is just gorgeous—from what I’ve seen from facebook photos, anyway! I can’t believe that another tiny life has entered the world. I am in awe of the amazing people who procreate. I guess I’m just not there yet. I’m OK with that. Everyone else seems to be doing a fine job of keeping the population levels steady! Way to go, baby-makers! (And I mean all of this sincerely; if you’re reading any sarcasm into it, that’s YOUR mind, not mine!) Anyway, welcome baby Talia of Corrin and Mike! Welcome baby Benjamin of Tamara and Brad! Welcome baby Arlo of Maggie Ann and Josh! Welcome, welcome babies everywhere!

2009-09-17T14:56:00.002-07:00

Hello, world. Is it September already?

What an amazing summer. I have been through so many changes and I have been engaged in the processes of change so thoroughly, that my usual perception of time seemed to simply... switch off.

When last I wrote, I scored a sweet job that ended up being a beautiful launching pad for an even sweeter job. I am now doing what I really wanted to do (teaching ESL) and more besides. I am teaching ESL in my own hometown in about the only place in town that has such a job available. Amazing, this is utterly amazing to me! That I could have fired off my rockets of desire and have so completely hit my targets!

Now, (as I do every September) I am working to re-balance my life; for most of the spring and early summer 'playtime' took precedence, then as I started working again, 'worktime' started to tip the scales. I want to work enough that I still have energy to play, and play enough that I still have energy to work. Actually, scrap that. I want my playtime to invigorate my worktime and vice-versa. Especially now that I am teaching (often) disheartened immigrants who believe that there is nothing fun in Penticton to do... I must prove them wrong! There is SO much to do, there really is. Tonight, for example, I will be at a networking event from 5-7pm, and then off to the opening of an art show my work is in from 7-9pm, and then from 9pm onwards I will be at the Legion, rocking out to some live music. Things are happening in this town, baby!

I am happening in this town!

2009-07-18T11:53:00.004-07:00

I am a magnet! I am a fountain! I am a shooting star!

Positivity and optimism are wonderful seeds, and the rewards are excellent. Big juicy fruits of wonder and joy and abundance! I get good things, because I think good things. Because no matter what you think, you're going to be right. So wouldn't you rather be right about some good stuff?

I got the job. I do mean THE job, the one I wanted, the one that will serve me well in all of the wonderful ways I need. I'll be working as an employment facilitator (helping folks find work). This is ideal for me because of the opportunities I will have to connect with, and to help others in a meaningful way. Additionally, the staff are lovely people, empowered and full of hope and zest for service. I am excited. I start Monday. (The pay, the hours, and the benefits are nothing to scoff at either.)

Life continues to be sweet and full in the Okanagan Valley. I've had my fill of cherries; I do mean the real cherries, each one a mouthful, plump and full of black nectar. I went to the beach Blanket Film Festival last night; I watched the sunset on Okanagan lake as Ari Neufeld stunned the audience with his gorgeous music, and then settled with my friends into a bed of blankets and sand to watch some great Canadian cinematography. The air is hot, and the lake is warm. The air conditioning in the house is cool, and the invitations for fun and adventure stream forth.

And hey, that root canal I need isn't going to hurt too much, is it?

2009-07-07T22:56:00.002-07:00

Oh, mother of god, I have a toothache... I had forgotten about pain, physical pain. I am lucky to be able to say that; to claim a nagging mouthy aching as my only present trouble. Well, that, and my inability to pay to have this trouble fixed.

There's that saying about the straw, the camel, and the broken back. I'm not saying that this toothache is the straw, but it is a straw, and the camel's back is broken. Fun is fun, and done is done, and this camel here is ready for some serious financial upgrades. So! Bring it on, Universe! All of your most dazzling and compelling and exciting jobs are speeding their ways to this here camel, who will peruse and choose, and be renewed; in body, mind, wallet, and mouth!

I have a good feeling about my work. I feel like I have been meeting the 'right' people, and that my razzle-dazzle has been shining appropriately in the right company. Hey, I am an excellent employee, and I know it. I am enthusiastic, punctual, and smart to boot. Who wouldn't want to hire me? The theatre work is alright, I like it, but it's just not paying the bills. A few more art gigs and another part-time (or THE full-time job of my dreams) and I should be set.

Did you get that, Universe? Bring it ON! I'm ready for all of the abundance that you are so willing to generously spill over me! I am here, and I am ready for YOU!

2009-07-03T15:38:00.003-07:00

I had The. Best. Canada Day. EVER.

I went to Osoyoos with Dave, and soaked up the sun, ate an orange, swam in the lake and became coated in sparkling lake dust. Listened to live music, saw old friends, made new ones, ate prime rib, and watched fireworks. Goodness gracious, life is sweet, sweet, sweet.

I feel pretty good about where life is taking me right now; I am enjoying the ride, at least. God knows where I'll end up, but I feel good, and I think that THAT is 98% of the battle.

My art is blooming beautifully, and I am meeting all sorts of great people. I'm on the committee for a Street Art Festival that Penticton will be putting on in the autumn. I've joined a book club, I've tried Dragon Boating, I've seen lots of jazz shows, and mostly I've just been enjoying every juicy moment. I'm pretty sure that life can be like this all the time. Hey, not to say that it doesn't have bad and unpleasant bits (i.e. lost my mom's credit card- found it again, but still- almost missed a day of work due to miscommunication, smashed my toe and broke a plate)... but really, these are minor bumpy parts, strategically placed to remind me how good all the rest of it truly is.

I get a little jealous sometimes, of the women my age who have families, and are having babies of their own (at last count, seven of my friends are currently pregnant)... but all the rest of the time, I realize that I am exactly where I need to be, for me. I mean-- what would I do if I had a baby right now? Raise it in my parents' basement?! Don't think so. Nope, life is good, life is right. Here's to that! Cheers, my life!

2009-06-16T12:15:00.005-07:00

Time has been flashing by in a most delightful fashion. I love, love, LOVE being back in the Okanagan Valley, particularly now that two things have sorted themselves out:

ONE) The weather... good god, the days are warm and luscious and the air is sweet and heady, and the lake is clean and refreshing. Mmmmm! Love it!

And TWO) I have a social life! A real one! I have been astounded by the way Penticton has grown over the years into an actual arts community. Ten years ago, I never would have guessed that there would be such an abundance of creative people enthusiastically shaping the community. Suddenly I am surrounded by musicians and artists and people that sing just for fun, and old friends who are newly joyful about developments in their own lives (marriages, babies, good jobs). The energy is electric.

All of this joyful enthusiasm is infecting my life in the most delightful manner. All of a sudden, I am painting again, drawing, THINKING about art; I am particularly excited about the way that one art can infiltrate another (influence? or INFILTRATE?). I painted a little canvas (see attached image- the first time I have added an image to my blog! I am so proud of myself!), and there is a bit of sheet music in the background of the image. (I can't read music, by the way; but I like the way the language of music looks). The new owner of the painting wrote a song based on the subject of the painting, and even used some of the music from the painting... and I, in my great gratitude and joy, spent hours last night drawing a portrait of the owner of the painting. There is a beautiful organic feeding, and sharing, and rhizomatic growth that occurs when creative individuals are well-met.

I am working in the local theatre-- I may have mentioned that. I'm not working enough or making enough money to cover my most basic expenses, so I am well aware that I've got to find some new sources of income post-haste. But I'm not worried... I feel like the world is working itself out in my favour. I may become the famous artist I've always wanted to be. Hey, let's be cocky about it, why not? I WILL achieve creative success in my lifetime. Why not?

2009-05-11T12:42:00.002-07:00

Ah, family. Setting - Fancy winery for mother's day breakfast.

Grandad: Endrené, you've got some food on your chin.

Endrené: (wipes chin vigourously with both hands) Did I get it?

Grandad: Nope, it's right-- there (points to own chin).

Endrené: (wipes again) Now? Is it gone?

Grandad: No-- ahh... I think it's just a big pimple.

Endrené: (affronted) What? (touches chin again) Ah, I think that's just my mole.

Grandad: What mole?

Endrené: Umm, well, it's been there for at least twenty years...

Grandad: Are you sure it's not a pimple?

2009-05-11T09:38:00.002-07:00

I AM the Phantom of the Opera!

Well, I got the job. My techie/security part-time position at the Cleland theatre. Now I just have to learn the ropes and keep my job. Let's face it... electronic equipment? Microphones, wires, 'snakes', splitters, uh.... things I call 'thingers'? These things are not a natural part of my mind-set. I have a lot of lingo to learn. And some black clothing to buy.

I like the 'being in the theatre' part of the job. I like that I get to drift through the wings in the dark, spying and assessing. I like the feel of the theatre; the smell of it, the grandeur of the space, the sacredness of it. It's like a church, with swearing allowed.

Friday night was the Miss Penticton talent show. That was me, thirteen years ago. Strange to be on the other side of the experience, both in terms of my new job, and in that I have all those years behind me now. Would I do it again? Hard to say. But the girls really do get a lot out of the experience, in terms of an education not offered at school-- etiquette training, public speaking, some modelling training-- there are little things you learn about being a 'lady' that just aren't so important to the general populace anymore. Things like the correct way to get in and out of a car in a dress and high-heels, and how to go up and down stairs in a way that is most becoming. Sometimes when I think of these things, the feminist side of me scoffs. But the other (perhaps more powerful) non-feminist side of me is glad that I know these tricks of the trade. I mean, knowing the proper way to politely eat a whole artichoke... that is priceless.

Anyway. Today we're setting up a big screen. I'll be taking notes. I wonder what the show will be tonight?

2009-05-08T10:16:00.003-07:00

So, I'm lost out here in the wilderness of my childhood. I don't know what I want to be when I 'grow up', and saying that lost its novelty years ago.

A friend of mine suggested that I look at all of the things I enjoy doing in my spare time, and have a look at those activities, and figure out what I could do with them that would be profitable and... actually I forget what the other part was. Profitable and... fun? ...worthwhile? ...feasible? Hard to say, really. I've been getting so much advice lately (the majority of it unsolicited), that most of it dribbles down the side of my face like so much egg yolk.

(Minor complaints aside, I warrant that most of it has been good advice, and positively motivated.)

Anyway, here is a list of things I like to do:

Read
Research
Write
Correspond (mail, email)
Paint
Draw
Sit in the hot-tub
Swim
Canoe
Camp
Explore
Take photographs
Visit
Travel
Snorkel
Cook
Eat

Seriously... don't you think this could be just about anyone's list? I guess the glaring omissions include "talking on the phone" and "partying"... I'm not a natural socializer like my mother. I love animals, but not in the way I used to; these days, I can't imagine having a dirty, smelly zoo of pets, like I used to fervently wish for when I was seven years old. As much as I love animals, I don't like to have to feed them, take them to the vet, clean their hair from my clothes... or pick up their poo.

Anyway-- I'm getting off track, and I had said that I was only going to write this blog if I had something worthwhile to say. So-- I'm actually soliciting advice today. If you look at my list, and you think, "I know what she should do!", by all means, tell me.

In the meantime-- while I'm still waiting desperately to hear if I have the contract for the mural I want to paint or not-- I'm doing acrylic portraits of children and pets and what-have-you. I also (maybe) scored a Phantom of the Opera style job at a local theatre. I would be there like a ghost, opening and closing doors, and coming over the sound system to spook the renters into keeping the exits clear, and sweeping up the stage after all the performers have gone home. I wonder if I have to check the seats for spills and stains too?

I have an interview on Tuesday with a school in Vietnam. I have mixed feelings about teaching abroad again. On one hand, it's something that I think I really, really want to do, and on the other hand, I'm curious about what life would be like if I stayed in B.C. and really, really applied myself. You know, if I actually USED my god-given talents, rather than sitting on them as though they could be stolen or used up. It's funny-- I may have pointed this out before-- but I think there are a lot of creative people that feel that way. That if we use our talents, we may be spending non-renewable resources. Pure foolishness. Where did I ever get this idea, this fear of my own potential?

I wonder if I can do it all? Teach, create, travel, write, make a difference... I'm sure I can. But how?

Self-centered ramblings aside, my dad's birthday is coming up, and my mom and I don't really know what we should do for him. It strikes me as funny (and sad) that I don't even know what my dad's favorite restaurant is, or what his favorite food is. I know he'll probably say that it doesn't matter what we do, but I think it does. He's going to be sixty-one this year, and I wasn't there when my parents turned sixty last year. I do wish I had the money to fly him to Truk for his dream scuba trip, but the last time I mentioned that, he was saying that he was getting too old to scuba dive. "But dad," I said, "look at Jaques Cousteau! How old was he when he was making his scuba-movies?". Dad grudgingly agreed that maybe he did still have a few good scuba years left in him. But I can't send him to Truk Lagoon this year. Maybe we can take him for fish and chips instead?

2009-05-06T15:55:00.002-07:00

For the first time in the nearly two years that we have been (were) together, Nate read my blog. Not all of it, I don't think. I don't even know if he'll continue, and read this.

This disconcerts me.

Why didn't he ever read it before?
Would it have made any difference?
Who am I writing this for, anyway?

I started this blog to chronicle my adventures when I was living in Japan. These days, I don't really feel like I have anything that is worth public perusal, so I've reverted to writing my private (paper) journals. I'll write again when I feel like I have something worthwhile to say.

In the meantime, Namaste.

2009-04-27T21:18:00.000-07:00

P.S. Nate was OK... nothing broken. Just shaken up, scared. Lonely.

2009-04-27T21:08:00.002-07:00

Nathan called me on his way to the hospital. He was in a gnarly crash apparently, out on his speedboard in the gathering dark. His friends had loaded him onto the mini-bus, were driving him to Nanaimo General. His voice sounded small and far away, and I felt pity and uncertainty... but I knew that my being there wouldn't have made him not crash. Wouldn't have made things better.

I feel strange here in Kaleden. Like-- I haven't found my space yet. Certainly it must be strange for mom and dad too... no kids at home since Sandy graduated in 2000. And in those intervening years, we've all changed, developed new habits. I'm softer (I hope) towards my mother, kinder, (occasionally teasingly cheekier) and better-humoured in general. Dad has a sense of humour that I never fathomed as a child, and can appreciate now. Mom and dad each have a TV-- one upstairs and one downstairs, so they can each watch their own shows. This strikes me as kind of sad.

I wander around the house, like an elderly dog, looking for something I can't remember. Looking for something to do, a way to be myself in the presence of the people who have defined me for so much of my life. I cleaned mom's kitchen this evening, sewed buttons on my new cheap pink dress.

I'm thinking. A lot. But I think-- the thing that will be best for me is less thinking, and more doing.

2009-04-23T14:08:00.002-07:00

Tomorrow is 'moving day'. Mom and dad will be swinging through Nanaimo to grab me and cart me and my belongings back up to Kaleden. For a month? For the summer? Uncertainty reigns. Funny how the last time I said "I WILL NEVER LIVE WITH MY PARENTS AGAIN" I had a sinking feeling that I might be telling myself a lie.

There are certainly positive aspects to the move; I haven't had a real Okanagan summer since 2002, and it will be nice to swim in the lake and eat fresh cherries and peaches, to float down the river channel and mock the tourists (quietly, and from a distance, of course). I'm also looking forward to painting the dry and gorgeous Okanagan landscape. I've really been getting into landscape paintings lately-- it certainly doesn't hurt that most of the general population likes to buy them as well.

But as I prepare to make my exit, I am reflecting on a lot of good things I will be leaving behind as well. Wonderful relationships and delicious new connections, sea sounds and smells... ahh, I'll be back.

I'm just feeling a little conflicted about it all right now.

2009-04-15T17:04:00.002-07:00

I'm still living in a basement room in Nathan's friend's house, in Nanaimo. We don't pay rent, and we don't contribute much, aside from whatever household cleaning I pitch in with, and I buy groceries and cook once in a while as well. I qualify this behaviour as freeloading, and I'm not entirely comfortable with it, although I am very very grateful for Jenny and Aaron's hospitality and generosity. I want to find a way to pay them back (It will probably have to be with art.) Am I technically homeless, since I don't have a real home or my own address? I don't think so. I don't think this compares to sleeping under an overpass or anything. But I still feel bad when I meet homeless people, and they ask for help... because I still want to help.

I met a homeless guy today in the parking lot of the Shopper's Drugmart-- and actually I met him yesterday, too. He asked for spare change, and I pretty much don't carry cash anymore... using my debit card is just too easy. Anyway, I felt bad for not having anything to give him (giving him the 13cents in my pocket probably would have just been insulting), so I picked up some groceries while I was in the store-- soup, granola bars, and a fancy iced tea (because everyone likes fancy iced tea, right?)-- and when I went out to the lot to give him the groceries, he had moved on. So. I didn't quite know what to do... keep the groceries? Find an alternative homeless person? Foodbank? But I really just want to help this guy. I left the groceries in the car, in case I bump into him again.

2009-04-12T18:23:00.003-07:00

Easter Sunday started gray, rainy, and disgusting. Check that-- it was ME who was gray, runny and disgusting, as Aaron & Jenny's wee ones (the kids upstairs in the house that I am currently freeloading in) have been wiping their noses on me for the past few days. I am disappointed to be sick again, because (even though I didn't write about it) I had a pretty nasty cold in Hawaii, less than a month ago. Come ON. I don't get sick. Unless I'm not dealing with emotions very well... which might be... is the case.

I'm not happy here in Nanaimo. There. I said it. And I said it last night to Nathan, amongst a bunch of other wailings and moanings and complainings. And Nathan, in all of his calm, unruffled glory, said exactly the right thing: "Go to the Okanagan." One thing I love (and hate) about Nathan is that he never gets very emotional-- he always stays calm, sets me straight, sends me on my way. I think that in the two years we have been together, he has perhaps been outwardly angry with me once. At worst, he might simmer a little over bad drivers on the road, but otherwise-- he's a windless pond. He truly is a fine human being.

Anyway, I don't think I'll be back to Nanaimo. I think this is exodus. My mom and dad will be up through Nanaimo in about 2 weeks, as they make their slow (retired) way home from Victoria-- I'll probably catch a ride with them. I'm going to give Nathan my car... he can drive it 'til it dies, or sell it, or do whatever he thinks will get him ahead the most. We've already talked about what I'm going to do with my engagement ring (Nate said I can keep it) and the wedding rings we had purchased for the wedding that never happened (we both want to keep our respective rings for sentimental value-- they are silver and gold, with native killer whale designs on them, as that's Nathan's clan). I'll plan to stay with mom and dad for the summer anyway... it's been a long time since I've had an Okanagan summer. I don't really know what's going on with my life, and embarrassed to admit it. But at least I'm admitting it.

"And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should." (from the Desiderata by Max Ehrmann)

2009-04-07T16:34:00.002-07:00

Do you recall what I was saying about cyclical unhappiness? Yeah, well it's called PMS. Go figure. How'd I manage to forget about that?

The days are warming and floating by me like blossom petals; the grass is thick and long, dandelions are popping up in the lawn, trees are bursting into frothy clouds of pink and white.... and I am served my seasonal reminder about what is good in life, here, now.

As for the floating days... well, out of fear of making a misstep, I often don't make any at all. Like a rock-climber frozen on a ledge. If forward looks too difficult, impassable, and back is unthinkable, then one just stays put. But what I found out from my recent actual experience rock climbing (yes, I did it, it was awesome!) is, if I just grip on to one spot and don't move forward or back, if I overthink, I wear myself out just clinging, and I end up falling anyway. Better to make that lunge towards the next hold, tenuous though it may seem. Ahhh, rock climbing euphemisms.

So-- about taking that lunge. I have an application in at a local bubble-tea shop, though the waitress looked at my experience suspiciously (ESL teacher, art supply store clerk, research & development/ office assistant... doesn't add up to "Winning Bubble Tea Barista" applicant, I guess.) I have another application in at the local university for a position that may be wayyyy over my head... but maybe shooting high is better than shooting low? And my resume is in the hands of an ESL teacher recruiting company, and I got an email today that they had submitted on application on my behalf to a school in Vietnam. Oh, and I'm still waiting to hear about that mural that I want to do in Kaleden... that will be a perfect summer gig, so that's the one I'm really holding my breath for right now.

I miss my mom and dad... I haven't seen them since... early December? Holy smokes! Time flies! But they'll be coming to Vancouver Island shortly for a surprise birthday for my twin cousins, who will be turning 50 this year. I'll travel down to Victoria to meet them, and hopefully join up with some old friends in the area as well. We'll see how it goes. I say 'friends' lightly, because as much as we're in touch on Facebook... well, we all know what a bunch of hooey Facebook is in terms of propelling actual human interaction. I think my brother might come too-- I sure hope so! I can't remember the last time I saw him... oh, mom and dad's party last summer. That's too long. I can't wait to hear what stories he's brought home from Africa!

I suppose I ought to get back to working away on those calligraphy projects... one down, three to go. It's nice out, so I'm working outside, sitting at Jenny's beautiful new outdoor patio set, with the grass sliding around my ankles, and insects landing in my fruit punch. It's the best.

Take your vitamin D, folks.

x

Endrene

2009-04-04T18:51:00.000-07:00

Make that my fourth year of writing this blog. Just like, how when you turn one, you begin your second year of life. And how when you turn thirty, you begin your fourth decade. Numbers are weird.

2009-04-04T17:23:00.002-07:00

My 200th post, and my 3rd year of writing this blog. Yaaaay, me.

I am bored, but not rightfully so. I am in a town that is still new to me; there is exploring to be done, gardens and homes to be aesthetically inspected as I wander, new people to meet. But... well... meh. I'm sure I must just be in a cyclical rut.

I am in one of those gray moods that make me reconsider the benefits of being on some sort of mood-boosting medication, the kind that makes me actually want to get up in the morning. Then again... I know well that some exercise, a triple dose of vitamin D, and actually DOING something (whether or not I feel like doing something) will probably be just as helpful, easier on the pocketbook, and more beneficial to my overall being in the long term.

I have been helping Nathan (albeit enviously) as he shows off his beautiful carvings, and pursues his new art form with a fervour I have seldom-to-never felt about my own artwork. As I type, he is sitting in the cool spring sunshine, whittling away. I thought about painting, but let the idea pass with little more than a sigh. I instead lay wrapped up in my winter jacket, face up on the kids trampoline for a while. I got cold, and wandered in to write this.

I am in the middle of a calligraphy project that I am loathe to finish; yet I can't allow myself to start anything else until that job is done. I had expected it to be fun-- I thought my client had a good idea of what I like to do (foolish assumption), and instead found myself with a very boring project of repeating the same verses four times over, in plain black ink on plain cream paper. I had envisioned swirls of colour and creeping foliage intertwined with the text. No such luck. I haven't yet fully completed even ONE of the four, and my deadline draws near. I can't forfeit the project either; my client's money is already in my bank. I am in his debt, quite literally.

There are several niggling problems that have been knocking at the back door of my mind... but I have been pretending to be a teenager on summer vacation, imagining that every little thing will take care of itself. I haven't a job, or a home. I have to re-file my taxes. I have bills to pay, but find it difficult with little income, and multitudes of outcomes. I am tired of being a grownup who isn't.

I really would like to make my family proud of me, in the way that they were proud of me when I was 17 and in Youth Group and Jazz Choir and running for Miss Penticton and volunteering with whatever project came my way, and dressing up and using my best manners for dinners with family members and the mayor, etcetera, etcetera. And I really would like to make my own self proud of me, in the way I was proud of myself when I was living in Japan, paying my bills, and forging friendships, and telling a taxicab driver where to go in Japanese. Everyday (or most of them, especially in the beginning) were flavoured with adventure, novelty, and possibility.

I guess I do know what I want. I want to get in deep again, in the thick of life. This surface game is killing me- the act of shopping for basics and getting the daily coffee and flipping through the "Help Wanted" ads-- none of it feels genuine, or desirable. The boredom may in fact, be warranted.

2009-03-28T14:44:00.002-07:00

I am back in Nanaimo... I had only been living here for a week before I left and went off on my adventure in Maui. As a result, Maui feels more like 'home' than Nanaimo. I'm having difficulty adjusting to the cold, the gray weather, the wet, the dark clothing and scowling drug addicts. Did I mention that the house is a block up from where the local hookers display their wares? The promise of spring (cherry blossoms, baby lambs, et al.) is about all that keeps me interested in my environment. Still, I can't help feeling annoyed that the sky isn't consistently blue, and there are no palm trees rattling merrily in the sea breeze...

I ought to be grateful for what is, while what is, is. And I can certainly do everything I can to make a more tropical place my 'home'. A few factors hold me back from this: a desire to please my family, and stay near(ish) to them; the feeling that it might be more 'grown-up' to tough it out and settle down on my home soil; the wanting to be close to my calming and solid partner, Nathan. Then again...

I'm done with winter. It used to be my favorite season, back when winter meant playing in the snow and skiing all season long. Who can afford to ski these days? And I would love a job, a regular job with regular income, and regular time off. Living somewhere far away (if it meant having a job) might actually mean that I had more time (and money) to be with my family when I wasn't working. I'm fully trained and experienced as an ESL instructor now, and worldwide, times are tough. That means there aren't whacks of eager ESL travellers pouring into BC to get an English experience abroad. They stay home, and spend the money there. So... shouldn't I go where they are? And (those of you familiar with my posts here) know that Nate and I are simultaneously compatible and diametrically opposed. I love him to bits... but. There's a but. He is so grounded, a home-soil, settle-down kind of guy. Is that something I should be, or is just something I am not?

Oh yeah... I forgot. I don't believe in 'should'.

The pluses now (after my outpouring of angst):
+ I am listening to CBC radio 3! I <3 it so...
+ It's Earth Hour tonight! Turn out your lights at 8:30PM!
+ I can do anything. I am taking steps to be ready for anything (read: work abroad).
+ I might get a mural contract for Kaleden... we're celebrating my hometown's 100th anniversary this year!
+ I am healthy. I have good friends, a place to live, food to eat, and nature all around (cold and soggy, but beautiful nonetheless)
+ I might finally be able to learn how to scuba dive! Whoooo Hoooo! Fingers crossed for that mural contract so I can shell out the cash for the lessons!
+ I'll say it again: I have good friends and family. Some of them only email me, some of them are almost never in any kind of touch at all. But I can feel the web of support and love they offer me-- I am so very blessed in this aspect.

Namaste...

Love, and love, and more love to you.

~Endrene

2009-03-22T11:59:00.001-07:00

Sometimes you just have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down. - Kobi Yamada

I found this quote on a friend's blog and couldn't resist it. Thank you, Maggie-Ann.

2009-03-22T10:52:00.002-07:00

Oh, what a byooootiful morrrrninggggg... oh, what a beautiful day! I love it when I get in these moods. These chipper, gosh-golly-gee, ain't life grand, dorky, unabashedly optomistic moods. The fact that we are going whale watching on a sail boat this afternoon might have a lot to do with it.

The plein aire session last Wednesday was lovely. After strolling around the take a good look at my surroundings, I parked myself in the lot across from the Keawa'ali church and painted for a good three hours. Most of the other artists stopped by to say hello and see what I was up to, and when I was done, I strolled down to the beach to see what they were up to. Watercolour, pen-and-ink, pastel, studies for acrylics and oils. Everyone was so enthusiastic about my little study (which was undeniably uplifting), and they all wished me 'Aloha' as they filtered away. I stayed a little longer at the beach, painting a couple sitting serenely under a rainbow-coloured beach umbrella... pale cerulean sky, turquoise water, rusty sand... before packing up (all the other artists had called it a day by this point), I went over to the couple in the painting to share what I had done and offer them my web address-- in case they wanted to see the work possibly downloaded in the future. They were so thrilled to be part of an artwork that they offered to buy it from me. Of course, I couldn't say no! The painting will no doubt be hanging on the walls of their Wisconsin home, years from now. It gives me a warm feeling to think of the connection to people that my art has allowed me to have over the years.

The days between then and now have been spent in agony over my difficult project (I have 3 days left in Maui, and not a one of the four calligraphy projects are complete), and ecstasy over my surroundings. I have snorkeled nearly to my heart's content (there have been a few rainy days and days with high surf), I have walked and taken photos of every little plant and insect, I have coated myself in sticky masses of sunscreen and smiled nonstop at the world around me. Mary and Maile have been amazing-- both of them becoming good friends to me. I'm sorry to be missing Maile's 14th birthday this coming Friday.

Friday night I went to a stranger's birthday party, the invite coming from a friend of a friend-- and none of said friends in attendance at the party. But any apprehension I might have felt prior to my arrival was dashed away as I crossed the threshold; people in bandanas and dreadlocks warmly invited me in, and offered me glasses of sweet wine and pillows to sit on as I contemplated the enormous floorcloth that was to become Maya's birthday mural. An ART PARTY?! An art BIRTHDAY party?! Why have I never thought of this before? Damn, it was fun! The best part was definitely the people there... what a lovely mish-mash of eclectic world travelers and artistic spirits. I formed a connection with a sprite of a girl named Cori, and promised to return in December to help paint her VW van for her birthday. Daisies and peace signs and rainbows-- oh my! Can we say "dreams coming true" here, please?

Speaking of which, I have plans to see the sunrise from Haleakela crater tomorrow morning. This is one of those 'must do' things on my list of life's goals. And I'm going to do it.

Life is good. So good.

2009-03-18T10:20:00.002-07:00

Mary's just gone to drop Maile off at school, then she'll come back to pick me up so that I can have her truck for the afternoon. I'm going to join a group of local Maui painters/artists that meet every Wednesday morning for plein aire sessions.

I'm a little anxious. I've only met one of the women who will be there once, and it's been a while since I've been creative in a group setting. I'm sure I'll get comfortable soon enough. If all else fails, I have my snorkel and a beach towel in my bag; I can always ditch and drive out to Makena beach.

The project isn't going as well as I'd like-- too many other fun things to do, and the math of the measurements has confounded me to the point that I am down to my final four precious pieces of paper. I'd really like to get this calligraphy done here, instead of having to complete it on the mainland. Then again, I haven't received any money for the work yet either. Ah, that's just an excuse not to do it. I better buckle down, nose to the grindstone, shoulder to the wheel, etc. etc. yada yada.

Time to go! Aloha!

2009-03-12T00:38:00.002-07:00

Dear gods, I'm back. A variety of things kept me away for more than a month; dial-up internet, packing, moving, no internet, etc. But now-- ahhh, now. Now I am in Maui, enjoying the over-the-top hospitality of Mary and Maile, enjoying the scented air and the rattle of palm trees, enjoying the fact that even the weeds that grow up in the cracks of the sidewalks are different from the sidewalk crack weeds back home. And there's no snow here. Ahhhhhhhh. No snow.

This evening we walked down the road a bit as the sun was stalking the lower half of the sky, and met up with Pat, Mary's friend, and a designer of exquisite wedding cakes. The four of us dined at Kihei's best Japanese restaurant, Sansei. Ooh! Rainbow roll! The Yellow Submarine, and the Pink Cadillac! All signature Sansai sushi rolls. Good stuff. Pat was delightful-- one of those people you can have REAL conversation with-- once we were past the "what's your name, where you from, what do you do?" stage, we talked of self-exploration, growth, and yes... the habit of happiness.

Actually, I've met a lot of neat people so far. It's one of those special things about traveling alone-- it's a lot easier to connect with others when you aren't cocooning yourself in an existing relationship. I talked at length about family (both hers and mine) with a Philapina girl in the Crazy Shirts store in Wailea, and about what the culture shock was like for a girl named Janine who moved out here from Portland, Oregon. I talked with a retired NY State couple at the bus stop, and with a local guy walking his pit bull-black lab cross.

*** computer crashed at this point last night... thank you very much, auto-save...

Today was a little less frenetic-- I think a cold that has been stalking me for months has finally taken up residence in my chest. No snorkelling today... just nursing the sunburn I got on my back from the day before, drinking Coors lite, making a pot of chicken curry for Maile and Mary and Randy (Mary's boyfriend), and enjoying the cooler wetter weather from the relative safety of the lanai. Eventually I'll get to the project that brought me here-- I'm to do a set of four calligraphic copies of the Desiderata for a friend of Mary's. I suppose I could have just as easily done them and mailed them from Nanaimo... but then, I wouldn't be in Maui, would I?

Here's the Desiderata, first copyrighted by Max Ehrmann in 1927:

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

2009-01-28T12:56:00.002-08:00

"If we were to include natural services and the environmental costs of our waste and pollution in our economic accounting, we’d have a more realistic economic system. And we’d see that the environment and economy are intertwined. Caring for one is the solution to problems facing the other."

-David Suzuki

The truth is, I think that the economy is failing simply because it is not a sustainable system, in the same way that any unmitigated growth is not sustainable. The way the economy is now-- or the way we expect it to be-- it is more like a cancer than a reliable indicator of a country's 'health'.

I'm certain that environmental raping and pillaging would not be such a problem if we all had to deal with the effects in our own backyards. For example-- if everything you used-- your fork, your laptop, your pillow, your clothing, your car-- was made in your own hometown, what would be the positives and negatives of that? OK-- so your pillow is made from local cotton and local sheep's wool. Great, nice, good for the farmers, the local economy. Your car is made from iron ripped from your beautiful hills, in a factory emmiting a foul stench in your air, powered by oil sucked from beneath your coastline... would you drive as much? Would you buy a new car every year? I don't think so.

If we are going to have a global economy, we have to think about global impact. If we think about global impact, non-stop cancerous expansion is not an option. Come on people-- this isn't capitalism anymore-- it's consumerism! It's destructive, and it's gearing down, grinding to a halt, forcing change. Change hurts. Jobs are lost, people suffer. So what? You'd rather put off the suffering until the world is a toxic bubbling mass of waste?

2009-01-25T19:53:00.000-08:00

P.S. My boob is fine. Hooray!

2009-01-25T19:48:00.002-08:00

Two unrelated things that have come to mind recently:

1)

When I was very young—about four or five years old, I think—I used to have a recurring dream about our living room couch catching fire spontaneously. It was the chocolate corduroy couch that had its’ back to the windows that overlooked Hope St.

The brown corduroy was my favorite couch for several reasons. Boy, our fat brown tabby, would curl up on one end. I would lean up next to him and he would purr while I petted him with my left hand and sucked the thumb on my right hand. The couch was also in the living room, as opposed to the family room—the living room being the more genteel space that my parents reserved for adult friends and glasses of adult beverages and fires in the fireplace. Kids and toys belonged in the family room. So the brown couch represented a clean, comfortable, restricted world.

The couch would always be burning on the right hand corner, opposite the cat’s corner. No-one would be nearby to help. I don’t know if I ever cried for help—I just ran my little self into the kitchen, and got the orange plastic mixing bowl, and then I dashed to the kitchen sink—I could just reach the tap on tippy-toe—and I filled the bowl up and ran back to the couch to splash the water on it. I ran back and forth, but the fire was more than little orange bowls of water could extinguish.

I always woke up feeling frustrated, angry. Abandoned. Where was everybody? Why was I doing this terrifying grown-up thing all by myself?

2)

In second year Fine Arts, I had a little solo show in a Summerland café. I had titled one of the mixed-media paintings “The Magistrate’s Daughter”. It was a head and shoulders drawing of a dark nude—her eyes black and far away, her expression mournful and exposed. A young couple bought it. The husband asked me about it—why did I name it that? I thought—I don’t know—that I couldn’t come up with anything clever to say. So I blustered and smiled around the truth, thinking that the truth would be lame and mundane. I told him “I don’t know… she just sort of suited that title. Don’t you think?”. I could tell that they were unfulfilled by my response.

The truth is this:

I have two European prints from my maternal grandparent’s house—they have both long since passed away. But I remember looking at the prints as a child, and wondering about them. One is a watery picture of a bridge over a city canal. It is called “Malines-Belgium”. The other is of a European townhouse, called “A French Magistrate’s House”. The etching is stark and straight, the front of the building ornate and imposing. I acquired the prints in my early twenties, around the time I started working on my BFA. I hung the prints in my Kelowna kitchen, and I would spend minutes at a time looking at the picture of the Magistrate’s house. Who was he? What was his family like? I built them lives, personalities. The daughter grew up, she never married… her oppressive and important father had something to do with this. She turned to secret night-time affairs to try to claim some piece of her life as her own… but she never became who she really wanted to become. She never got to become herself. And I held her back even more, because I didn't let her become real for that couple, either. I horded her story, kept her secret.

Summerland couple… do you remember my name? Have you ever googled me? I hope you do. I hope you find this story, and connect it to the portrait hanging in your living room or den. This is who she is. She is a somebody. One day, I will show you the print of the Magistrate’s house, where she still lives.

2009-01-21T13:12:00.000-08:00

Don't tell me.

2009-01-20T00:35:00.002-08:00

I’m almost totally disconnected right now. I haven’t been phoning anyone. Not many people have been phoning me. My mom, maybe? She phones. She’s worried about me. Nate’s been phoning. He’s all moved out now, living on Vancouver Island, as per his dream. He already sounds happier… friends to play with, things to do. He has the sound of hope in his voice. A portion of that hope is pointed at me. Hoping I’ll move out there.

Nate moved out on Saturday. After he left, I moved furniture around the basement suite. The couch angled here, the computer table swivels to the corner, the easel treks across the room with the unfinished painting onboard. I’m still moving things around. Inspecting piles of papers, bills, photographs… I even found a misplaced GST rebate cheque. Bonus. I’ve been wiping up dust with lemon-scented wipes, washing my sheets, my clothes. I haven’t settled in yet. I haven’t found a rhythm, a comfortable way to be without Nathan here. I’m not unhappy. I’m not bored. I’m not lonely. I’m… unsettled.

People want to know what’s next. I have nothing to tell them. That’s why I’m not calling anyone, not seeing anyone outside of work. I don’t really know what I want; the unknowing baffles me, muffles me. Home? Family? Career? Lifestyle? Money? Travel? Simplicity? Domesticity? Obligation? Reparation?

I make no move to contact people who are displeased with me. I make no move to contact people who are waiting on me to wake up, or whatever it is they are waiting for. I do not want to disappoint anyone, so best just to stay out of everyone’s life altogether.

In my heart, all the answers are there. I can’t hear my heart, my brain is so loud. I need this quiet time now. I need this resonance. This dark aisle leading to a personal Renaissance.

I don't know what I am doing, staying up late. I have an amazingly long day ahead of me tomorrow. I am going for an ultrasound on my left boobie... found a lump a while back. I'm not worried about it, though, because my GP said that breast cancer pretty much never hurts, and this little sucker goes through a startling monthly cycle of pain. She figures it's a cyst. Here's hoping. Also, tomorrow is garbage day, and I have to finish my lesson plan for class tomorrow, and I have to get the suite tidy and ready for showing... I talked to my landlord about decreasing the rent, possibly, maybe? But he figured he could get the price he wanted from someone else. So I'm moving at the end of February... don't ask me where to. I don't know. I'm OK with not knowing. I hope you are, too.

Sweet, meaningful, abundant, restful dreams...

2009-01-11T22:35:00.002-08:00

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 20 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 16 people to be tagged.

Alright. I got 'tagged' on facebook by my friend Laura. Since I don't write 'notes' on facebook, I figure I'd launch into this project here. I think it's kind of funny because this is my blog. All I do is write random things about myself. But it is my birthday, my thirtieth birthday, and I'm going to indulge myself. I'll see if I can come up with stuff that I don't think most people know.

A Random 20 Things Note

1. I want to go to the Burning Man Festival at some point in my life.

2. If I won the lottery, the first thing I would do is learn how to scuba dive so that I could take my Dad to Truk lagoon. I want to learn how to scuba dive regardless of whether or not I win any money in my life. Wait... I have a scratch ticket that I got for my birthday-- I'm going to scratch it right now... Oh damn. No winners.

3. I can bend my big toes at 90 degree angles.

4. I don't like dry dust touching my feet.

5. I like live bugs, but not dead ones. I can't touch dead bugs. If I do, I squeal. I think it has to do with that time when I was reeeeally little, and Dad was giving me a bath, and a dead fly fell out of my hair into the bath tub. I was so mortified and grossed out.

6 and 7. I have great balance, but poor flexibility. I don't ever wish to win any kind of award for any sort of physical activity. I just have zero interest in physical competition.

8. I sometimes wish I wasn't white.

9. I don't have any mentors or heroes. There is noone I want to be like when I 'grow up'. I have always just wanted to be the best me I can be-- no-one else can be a guide or model for that.

10. But I do admire the following people: Mr. Dress-Up for bringing me joy; The Dalai Lama for bringing me back to my spiritual self; David Suzuki for bringing me awareness and practical steps for saving the planet; Robert Bateman for inspiring me artistically as a kid (and again now that I am mostly over my art-school snobbiness); Gabrielle Lacelle for being an independant, amazing adult female in my life; Stirling Alexander for just plain being wicked, and a destroyer of adversity.

11. I am not very romantic.

12. I don't like naked animals-- pigs, elephants, naked vole-rats-- but I think those hairless cats are pretty neat. I like pretty much every other animal. Except for maybe porcupines and honey badgers.

13. I talk to myself. I answer. I argue. I don't care.

14. I used to chew my toenails when I was a kid.

15. If I have any enemies, I don't know about it. I believe in peace, nonviolence, and altruism as a way of life.

16. I want to become a Buddhist, but I don't know how. Am I one if I say I am? Also (even though I feel foolish for it) I am kind of worried about what Jesus will think.

17. I try to say nice, friendly things to myself (in my head) in the morning, like "Good morning honey! You had a goooood sleep! Don't you feel great? You are going to have such a wonderful day today!" I do this, because if I wake up thinking crabby thoughts (like "Ohhhh I DON'T WANT TO GET UP! WHY DO I HAVE TO GO TO WORK?"), I tend to be clumsier and crabbier throughout the rest of the day.

18. I like being by myself more than I like being with people, but I feel guilty for feeling this way. I want to get over the guilt so that I can more thoroughly enjoy myself, both when I'm by myself, and when I am with people. As it stands now, I'm wishing to be alone when I'm hanging out with people, and feeling guilty for not socializing when I'm alone! Not productive! Not healthy! And I really doooo love people. I'm just not getting enough time alone so that I can actually enjoy them when I'm with them...

19. I want to live in a house furnished with only plants and pillows. (But I know I couldn't stop there!!)

20. I really love being who I am, in the end. I want to make the most of my life, my talents and circumstances. I don't want to wait for my life to happen. I do want to share my experiences with good people. I want to take responsibility for who I am, and where I'm at in life, every day, for the rest of my life.

If you read this, consider yourself 'tagged'.

Namaste,

Endrene

2009-01-07T11:20:00.002-08:00

You've heard that saying, "That which you resist, persists"?

I must be resisting a lot of things right now. I feel very boxed in, curled up tight in my strange eggshell world... as though everything I do takes management, manouvering. There is no flow, no freedom, no stretching room.

I don't know what I need, and I feel selfish in thinking that there is something missing when I already have so much. Maybe it's not that there's something missing. Maybe it just IS that there is TOO MUCH. Too much of some stuff, not enough of others.

OK, that's enough of this. Send me good vibes, if you have some to spare.

x

e

2009-01-03T21:45:00.002-08:00

I have been working diligently (with only occasional procrastinatory breaks) on my lesson plans and preparations for the classes I will begin to teach this coming Monday. Truth be told, I haven’t gotten as far as I would have liked. By now, I feel as though I should have the entire first week mapped out, and instead I have only a blurry outline of the first two days. But haven’t I said that I don’t believe in ‘should haves’? I have. I don’t. If there is a reason behind my snail’s pace, I am slow to reveal it to myself.

Let’s think. It could be that my mind is playing the ego-based game of ‘scramble’—the ego loves when chaos reigns, because the ego thrives in chaotic environments. It’s easy to ignore our true selves when we are immersed in the frantic panic of deadlines and ‘should-haves’ and ‘ought-tos’.

It could be that I’m thinking about turning 30. I guess I thought I should have (Doh!) been ready for kids by now. I’m not. I don’t feel much remorse about not wanting to have kids, about not wanting to get married, about not being able to give anyone a clear answer when they ask me “What’s next, Endrené?” I just feel good, mostly. I don’t feel sad to be leaving my twenties… not in the slightest. I am thrilled, in fact, to be entering this new decade of self-assurance, strength, and challenge. If there is any kind of disappointment attached to this birthday, it is that I do not have the dough or the time to celebrate it the way I REALLY want to—by myself, on a beach, somewhere warm. However, I can look at this YEAR as MY YEAR, and accumulate the needed dough and allot the necessary time so that at some point this year, I can celebrate myself exactly the way I have envisioned. I had wanted badly to go to the Burning Man Festival this year… but I find myself asking… why? I’m not particularly social, not on a mass scale like that. I like my interactions to be tight and intense- and brief. I don’t like crowds. I’ll revisit that one later.

It could be that I have been reflecting on my ‘resolutions’, or perhaps—‘realizations’ is more like it. Winter is always a reflective time, due largely to the inclement weather and the pervasive darkness—but that’s beside the point. The points are: I am tired of taking advice. I take a lot of it. I look for clues, answers, outside help, public opinion. I craft my response to the world in the way that will make the world happiness. I say that I like movies that I don’t. I try to like everything, in fact, for fear of offending someone. In that spirit, instead of listing things I think I would like to try or learn about in the next year, here are a list of ‘don’t likes’ that I am not willing to waffle about. Not this year, anyway:

I don’t like LED Christmas lights. DON’T DON’T DON’T!
I will not try skateboarding or snowboarding.
I don’t like romantic movies with predictable plots.
I don’t like ANY movie with a predictable plot.
I LIKE weird, unhappy movies.
I like to watch most movies once, and only once, with few exceptions.
I don’t want to teach art. TO ANYBODY. I want to teach English!
I don't want to own property. Not this year. Maybe never.
I don't want more STUFFffffff!

OK, the list isn’t that long. Complaining isn’t healthy anyway. I just want it made clear to the universe that I plan to take my own opinions seriously from now on, so any universal influence has to come from nearer to my own heart. No more billboard prophets.

I have been isolating myself quite a bit lately—I’m not sure if it’s out of habit, disposition, or by choice. All I know is that I don’t get out very much, and I’m totally fine with it. I’ve been incubating. I sometimes wish that I could have a warmer social life… but even in my isolation, I find that I don’t get as much alone time as I would like. Enough nurturing, creative, alone time. Good lord, I sound like Oprah.

Did I ever reach any sort of point? I just vented. Anyway… good things are coming. For me, for you, for the world. Listen closely to your true self. Don’t pass judgment on others; remember that the only person you have any control over is yourself. Use that control to do good, to be good goodness and light unto this world. Speak peaceful words, thankful words; let all words of judgment curl and dry and blow away like brown leaves before they reach your lips. Covet nothing, no-one. Move forward gently, soundlessly, with showers of multicoloured petals falling in your wake. Let your goodness speak for you. The air you breathe is enough. Your smile is enough. Your warm small hands, doing warm small things; this is enough.

Namaste,

Endrené

2008-12-27T21:49:00.002-08:00

I’ve just disconnected my dial-up internet to write this entry in Word, so I have no idea what I said in my last posting, nor do I particularly want to re-connect until after I have finished writing this. Jeez, I remember that dial-up “bee-boop-beep” sound from back at Maggie Junior High, when the only computer in school that had internet was connecting to that mysterious World Wide Web. These days the only thing that keeps me feeling technologically superior is the relative technological ignorance of my mother. (It’s a pretty lame way to feel good about yourself, let me tell you).

Did I mention this? I have a job now. Two, in fact. I rejoined the ranks of Opus Framing and Art Supply for the Christmas Season… turns out I have a flair for retail, and they’ve asked me to stay on part-time. I’ve figured out the keys to being good at retail sales:
1) smile a lot,
2) never, EVER take anything personally (what a waste of emotion and energy!),
3) keep moving (as Nate’s ex-boss at Tim Horton’s said to him, “If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean!”) and finally,
4) if you don’t have an answer, go get one.
That’s it. Those are the four tricks. Now, go razzle-dazzle ‘em in the retail world.

Yes, I remember. I did already talk about this. So you know I have a job starting on January 5th, teaching English as a second language. Right.

Well, I won’t bore anyone with repetitive details. I would go on and on about Christmas, but I’m already about ready to take the tree down-- which is funny. I’m usually somewhere in mid-January before I hit that point. Anyway, I’ll say this about Christmas; it didn’t go as planned, due to some pretty severe weather, but it was lovely nonetheless. I got a lot of playtime in with my friends’ kids (aged 2 and 5)-- we built a snow fort and a leaping snowman (Morgan stuck the stick ‘legs’ in him at hilarious angles) and I ate a lot of turkey and stuffing and Brussels sprouts, and we made a puzzle and drank egg nog and we all just generally made merry. Which is what you’re supposed to do at Christmas, right? Right. I did miss my family… a little bit. I’m sure they had fun without me.

I’m finding that Christmas doesn’t really hold the same power over me as it used to; it probably has a lot to do with my break from the church. I have a hard time reconciling the birth of the Christ child to the commercial insanity that the unbelieving masses tout… I don’t really know where I stand on it. I don’t ever celebrate Christmas without thinking of baby Jesus, but I feel like an impostor as much in a church as in a mall. There is indeed great joy in giving and receiving… but when is enough too much? And if a custom becomes a habit, stripped of its original motivation and purpose, is there any real value in it?

Whew. Heavy. I just feel very burdened by the excesses and dichotomies of the Western world sometimes.

Regardless. I am grateful for all that I have, and I am ready for what’s next, whatever it is. I wish the same for you.

Namaste,

Endrene

2008-12-21T09:21:00.002-08:00

December has been the whirlwind it usually is.
Failing finding an ESL teaching position quickly after my course, I returned to A-1 Pallet for a week, then scrambled to find the next survival job. My ability to find an appropriate ESL position was sabotaged by my own wishy-washiness about WHERE I wanted to teach… I had my nose stuck up in the air over the local teaching positions in Surrey and Coquitlam… but if not local, where?

Anyway, I went into Opus Framing & Art Supplies in Langley (my pre-Japan job) and talked with the manager about joining the team as a Christmas/Boxing Day elf, and have been working there for about three weeks. Honestly, it’s been fun. I love art supplies; I love organizing them and learning about their viscosities and pigment loads and ferrules. Oh, I even love art supply terminology! The customers are great, too. I especially like the Christmas shoppers who come in, saying, “I dunno. She likes to paint…” it’s like a mystery I have to puzzle out.
Me: What kind of paint?
Customer: I dunno.
Me: Does she use solvents?
Customer: No. (OK, not oils)
Me: Does she paint on paper or canvas?
Customer: Canvas.
Me: (OK, not watercolours, must be acrylics…)

Anyway, I just got a (local) job teaching two Korean children for 15 hrs. a week, starting on January 5th. I’m going to the school this coming Tuesday to get more information about the curriculum and expectations there… I’m pretty excited. It’s a foot in the door, and I’m looking forward to meeting the kids.

Oh... and I have the prettiest Christmas tree ever. Nathan and I got it from the same tree farm that he worked at last year. She is all sparkling in reams of tacky tinsel and tonnes of those extremely breakable balls and baubles... some of them quite antique. I love to make my tree look as much like my grandmother Shepherd's as possible. That means lots of colour, and a whole lot of glitter. All is well.

2008-11-27T13:08:00.001-08:00

When I was in my final semester of my final year of university, I just about lost it. I had just had enough of the educational system, of being poor and hungry, and of being an extraneous member of society. I was becoming miserable, and letting myself sink into a mire of sticky black badness.

A professor who noticed my decline (and cared) gave me this quote, printed on a card with a photo of light streaming brightly through a window into a dark room:

“The soul is dyed the colour of its thoughts. Day by day, what you do is who you become. Your integrity is your destiny – it is the light that guides your way.”

-Heraclitus

I still keep this quote with me, posted up beside me at any work station I happen to be working at. It helps me to remember that if I want to be a good person, (or a happy person, or a fulfilled person) I have to act like one, everyday. It’s that simple.

Thank you, Byron Johnston. That card has made a world of difference to me.

2008-11-27T09:21:00.002-08:00

I've been back at A-1 Pallet for this week... with the slow economy, it looks as though the job won't continue, but really, it's just the boot in the butt I need to keep looking for an ESL teaching job.

It's been nice to come back to my desk and get things done everyday. I really do like working. In my early 20's I never thought I would feel that way.

It's good.

2008-11-21T14:02:00.002-08:00

Guess what is not fun at all? Looking for work. I just can’t stand it. I really shouldn’t complain; I’m young and healthy, my skills are polished, and I’m fabulously employable. But there’s something about looking for work that always sends my self-confidence into a tailspin.

Suddenly, I’m out in my little raft, in the middle of the ocean, hoping that an ocean liner is 1) going to see me frantically waving my arms and 2) stop and pick me up and 3) be the RIGHT ocean liner… not some dirty, awful ocean liner that sends me straight to work in the smelly galley, making fish-head soup.

I’m getting freaked out by all this dire talk about the failing economy on the radio. And to make matters more complex, Nate is going to be losing his job by the end of the next week (landscaping is seasonal work, dontcha know). He seems to have all these grand plans for what he’s going to do with his ‘time off’, while I’m busy working myself up into a steaming lather about the car insurance and the unpaid bills and my main dilemma: I don’t live where the work is, but I can’t afford to move. A sickening catch-22. And the unspoken irksome other thing: I don’t like being the main breadwinner. I like it even less that there will soon be no bread at all.

I have some ideas about what to do, though—so Never Fear! My Brain is Here!

Options:

I get a “make due” (e.g. making fish-head soup) job until I can find something more desirable.
I move to where the jobs are, and charge all the moving costs to Mastercard (not the best choice).
I find work abroad… Nate goes wherever his little heart desires, and we part ways, be it for the time being, or permanently…
I do a combination of working a “make due” job and volunteering at a schoolthat might be able to offer me a job when the busy season starts up again.
Ummmm…

OK. So I’m officially scared. I’m sure that this will all pan out, one way or another; things always work out for me. Back to the grindstone I go: I need to craft a killer resumé!

2008-11-17T14:54:00.002-08:00

Well, it turns out that EI won't pay up, because I wasn't 'ready, willing and able' to begin work at any time during my training course. I am irritated of course-- why am I paying into a program that never wants to help me when I need help?-- but I understand the logic behind it. I did leave work to go to school voluntarily. If EI paid out to every person that did the same, the coffers would be empty.

Just wish I had saved up a little more before I got myself into the program.

Anyway, the proverbial fire has been lit under my not-so-proverbial butt, and I am in the midst of a job search. There are some pretty dodgy employers out there; Hanaland comes to mind. If you were coming from halfway around the world to learn English, would you want to study at a place called Pacific Gateway International College of Canada... or would you want to study at Hanaland?

Guess it depends on what you're looking for in an English school. If a cute name is all it takes... well, good for you, Hanaland.

Pat has left me to my job search; I am listening to 'Freebird' in --what is that-- Spanish? Portuguese? It actually gains something in the translation... I'm going to miss Pat's little apartment and the quirky neighborhood around here. I love the quirky old houses with twinklelights on the banisters, and the friendly-looking newer townhouses with Tibetian prayer flags on the porches; the big trees and green yards and the funky people with cool haircuts and second-hand wool coats. This is an urban hippiedom. I like the impression I get of this place: consiousness, coolness, coffee, organic grainy goodness, community, action, interest.

Anyway, I'm heading back to Aldergrove tomorrow... with mixed feelings.

2008-11-15T20:12:00.000-08:00

I am listening to mixed tapes from cassettefrommyex.com and mowing my way through a bag of Hallowe’en candy that Pat’s mom brought for him. Sorry Pat… I’ll get you more if you wake up tomorrow and go- “What the hell? No more Caramilks? No more Aeros? Why are there still so many boxes of Smarties?” Speaking of which. I think only little bitty kids like Smarties, for the colours. We get to a certain age and think, “man, Smarties stink. Too much candy coating. Where’s the chocolate?”

By the way, Pat is awesome. I am so grateful to him for letting me sleep in his guestroom for this past month. He even fed me a few times, and invited me to his moustache madness birthday party last night! I drew on a kitty-whisker moustache… it was weird, sitting in a semi-cool bar downtown, at this table full of semi-strangers all clad in fake moustaches… the pretty girls looked the weirdest. Pretty girls in black mustaches, having serious regular everyday conversations, and drinking beer… it was art in action.

I’m not quite ready to look for work yet. I think maybe an entire day off is in order? I say it with a question mark, because I’m not sure I can stand a whole day of just relaxing. I have been reprogrammed to function in the robotic fashion of ultimate productive output. Must. Find. Work.

Oh… my goodness, here I was, thinking that I must be wild and crazy, staying up late and blogging on my first free night… and nope, hey, it’s only 7:49pm. Ten-to-eight, and my ‘wild-and-crazy’ consists of eating expired chocolate and talking to a computer. Sad. Speaking of which, check out http://alice.pandorabots.com/ …I met Alice today. She’s a little boring, but up for a chat anytime. Have you ever spoken to a robot before? There are some interesting ones out there…just google “chat with a robot”. They function using deductionism… it’s a new theory to me. I just learned about these robots today, because you can use them to teach English. They won’t respond to incorrect grammar. Well, some of them won’t.

Well… it’s Saturday night in Vancouver… what am I doing here? I think I’ll go prowl the ‘hood. Yes, I’ll be safe. I always carry my pepper spray and wear my “don’t mess with that girl, she must be crazy” fuzzy hat.

2008-11-15T10:43:00.002-08:00

My time with the CELTA course now numbers in hours instead of days. This has been like a year on University crammed into four weeks. My cheeks rae flushed for want of sleep, my eyes crusty, my stomach knotted. I'm not sure what my 'new' life will be like in the next few months.

Small bit of bitching: I have always spelled PRACTICE with a 'c' (the American spelling). During this course, I learned that the UK/Canadian/Australian/et al. spelling of the verb Practice is, in fact, PRACTISE (with an 's'). The noun (like a medical practice) is the 'c' version. So, becoming a grammarian, and an English teacher, I thought it right to ammend my errant 'c'-spelling ways.

I got my paper back. A little red circle was looped around every 's' every time I wrote 'practise'. What the hell?

I am going to stick to practice with a 'c', though it pisses me off, like spelling colour without the 'u'... there are only small things like these that make us Canadian. I am loathe to give them up.

2008-11-13T13:04:00.002-08:00

Hmmm.

Very-very tired, I am. Speak and teach the good English, I think I can.

Yesterday I handed in the last version of my re-written paper; if I pass or fail it now, it no longer matters. I will pass the course regardless. Of course, the perfectionist (a.k.a. the 'brown noser') in me wants the pass. And I mean the PASS. But (heave a sigh) the paper is in; the last teaching practise class has been taught; and the cold I have been fighting off for a week and a half is setting up shop in my sinuses and throat booger manufacturing. It's a lucrative business these days.

Hard to say what I'll miss most. I really enjoyed being a student again; prying open my rusty cerebral doors and tossing in knowledge. My hungry feral brain has been feasting. I have enjoyed being among classmates and students of other classes... especially Aki and the gaggle of Korean girls studying the TOEIC in the back classroom. I've really enjoyed being a trial Vancouverite... though I'm not so sure I'll be looking for work in the city. Nate is pretty deadset against it, and I want to give our relationship every opportunity to work out. He's been fabulously supportive to me while I've been away at school, and I've really missed him. Which is good, right?

I haven't enjoyed the fresh smack of poverty. I am broke, broke, broke, and can't wait to get to work. It complicates the moving process... say I get a job in Victoria-- how will I move there to start working? I paid for my coffee this morning with pennies (I now have two pennies left in my wallet), and I have a nice hole dug into my overdraft at the bank... I guess I could always sell my car? Anyway, I'm not too worried about it, because I'm sure everything will work out. It always does. Feeding anxiety to a problem only makes it bigger.

Yeah. I said it, now I just have to believe it.

Two days to go, then I'm off on the job hunt, out in the world. Wish me luck, send me good vibes, and keep loving each other (because it makes the world a nicer place altogether).

~Endrene

2008-11-09T14:43:00.003-08:00

I'm sure I've stated several times that time flies whether you're having fun or not. The last three weeks have been a case in point.

The CELTA course has put me through the wringer, and I have loved it and hated it in equal measures. OK, I lie, I've loved it waaaaay more than I've hated it. There's only one week to go, and one more major written assignment, due tomorrow.

Yes. I'm procrastinating… but only a little.

My final assignment has to do with profiling a student, figuring out what they need to do to improve their grammar and fluency, et al. The luck of the draw saw that I got-- get this-- an ENGLISH TEACHER to interview. Seriously. She teaches ESL in Mexico! Needless to say, it has been a little challenging figuring out where she needs help, because she undoubtedly knows her English grammar better than I do. But she's lovely, just a treasure.
Here’s the first part of my assignment (the rest deals with analyses and rationale, and I am sure is not nearly as interesting to read… besides, I haven’t written it yet). Wishe me luck on my final week!

Rocío Garcia is 32 years old. She has an earring collection, a warm, constant smile, and an open, eager nature. She is from a small town called Sierra Blanco, in Mexico; a place that she describes as “the middle of nowhere”. She has been living in Vancouver for just over three months. It was love that brought Rocío to Vancouver.
Rocío was teaching English in her hometown, a career that she chanced upon. Originally a student of architecture, she ran out of money for engineering school, and had to look for other options. A friend of hers told her about an affordable teacher’s training school, and Rocío applied, hoping to become a math teacher. At the time however, the school only had two teacher-training curriculums available: history, and English. Not being a fan of history, Rocío went into the English program, and found employment shortly after graduation.
English has affected Rocío’s life in a variety of unexpected and wonderful ways. Her career brought her an opportunity to study in the UK, and to the love of her life. The day she ‘met’ her Canadian boyfriend online, she was in the only internet café in her hometown. She wasn’t looking for love; she was looking for English grammar exercises to give to her class for the next day. She had her Skype account running so that she could chat with friends, and possibly meet native English speakers who would be willing to give her a hand. “Maybe,” Rocío says, with her characteristic tinkling laugh, “English was my destiny!”

2008-11-01T22:17:00.002-07:00

I should clarify. There are also plenty of nutty urbanites, and straight-faced homeless people. Nate and I had a discussion about that tonight. If someone is living in a home that isn't a house, i.e., under a tree, or in a tent-- what gives anyone else the right to say that they are 'homeless'? What if their home just happens to be under a tree?

Because there was a guy, living in the park at the end of the street, who lived under a branchy tree. The parks people came and cut off all of the protective branches, so his home was no more. Nate thinks the guy should've sued.

2008-10-28T08:33:00.002-07:00

Still the first to arrive. Not always the last to leave now...

One of the best things about this new phase in my life is the walking. I walk for about 40-45 minutes (it was more like an hour in the first week, when I spent more time poking my head into gaps in the bushes to see what was inside). My walk takes me from the Mt. Pleasant area of Vancouver, down past Science World, along False Creek, and up past B.C. Place to the school. Along the way, I see all kinds of beautiful things, especially in the pink and blue morning light. Patterns are beginning to emerge. When I start out, I make my way through the suburban areas with a mind to take in as much autumn foliage as I can-- I kick through the yellow leaves, and try to make eye contact with the busy walking and biking commuters. I look into people's mossy gardens, and pick out things I like; painted rocks, sunflowers soggy with frost, craggy boulders strategically placed.

There are nutty homeless people, and straight-faced hip urbanites, bustling through exercise routines, all decked out in LuLu Lemon. I see the same guy every other morning with his black dog, rummaging through the Science World garbage bin. There is a guy on a bike that always seems to go by me at the same point on the path. He always wears a red-and-black striped sweater that reminds me of the one that my friend Billy used to wear in high school. There is the same pack of crows along False Creek every morning, preening each other and screaming and searching through discarded McDonald's sacks. When no-one is close by, I try to speak to them in their language. Whenever one looks at me quizzically and fly away, I wonder: did I just say something offensive? Or did I just give her a command, and she is flying off to follow through?

I find this interesting about city people: they will almost never look you full in the face. If you catch them doing so, and toss them a smile, they quickly look away as though it was all a mistake. Only the buskers and the street people will try to catch an eye. Maybe that’s why everyone else looks away; if you make a connection, something will be expected of you. I know it’s not much—but couldn’t a smile be enough? I’m going to start the Vancouver Smile Revolution. I’m going to shine my beautiful fangs at EVERYBODY, whether they like it or not!

Almost time for class.

XXX LOVE and BIG VANCOUVER SMILES TO YOU

Namaste

Endrené

2008-10-24T18:31:00.002-07:00

I just roughly calculated how much time I have spent at class or studying in the last five days. About... 70 hours. The janitor actually asked me to turn out the lights when I left one evening, as he got fed up waiting for me to go. I'm the last student here again tonight, which I think is developing into my 'role'... first to arrive, last to leave. Not such a bad role to play.

I suppose.

I cried in class today. This stuff is INTENSE. I didn't know that there was SO MUCH that I didn't know about the English language. I seriously regret not committing all of the verb tenses to memory before starting this course.

Shall I fill you in?

I’m taking the CELTA course at Global Village in Vancouver. It’s a high-speed wham-bam of a course, aimed at getting me certified to teach English as a second language to adult learners. That’s the gist of it. I think I might have already mentioned as much… I had no idea HOW crazy it was going to be. It’s crazy. CRAZY-crazy. And wonderful. I won’t regret a minute of it when I am a teacher, of that I’m certain. Even the crying part will serve its purpose.

There are ten of us taking this course together; most of us are Canadian, though there’s an American guy that we tease every time he says ‘copy’ or ‘roof’ or ‘college’ (I suppose we’re getting back on behalf of all those Canadians out there who have been hassled for their ‘eh’s’), and a girl from… Israel, I believe? and another girl who grew up in India but who lives in Canada now. Should that be ‘whom lives in Canada now’? Good Lord, I’ve got a grammatical conscience. Yikes.

There is a TESOL course being taught simultaneously in our department; this course is for non-native speakers of English who think they might like to teach English in their home countries. The students are all Korean or Japanese. I spend more time talking with them during the breaks than I do with my own classmates. I guess it’s partly because most of my classmates are constantly oozing panicked anxiety, and I keep unintentionally sponging it up. The TESOL students aren’t studying at the same frenetic pace, and therefore seem to be a little more laid-back and cheery. They certainly don’t whine as much as my classmates do. Could be a cultural thing, too.

I’m living in Vancouver now, with my friend’s friend, Pat. Though now I think I can claim him genuinely as my friend as well. Last night I went to FRIGHT NIGHT with him and his four friends, and brought Akihiro (one of the TESOL students) along. It was crazy-busy; today turned out to be a Pro-D day, so every boogermuncher in Vancouver was whooping it up at the PNE last night. We waited nearly two hours in line for one haunted house which turned out to be painfully lame. I felt really bad for Aki, who was a good sport about it. But we soldiered on; after 10:30 pm the crowd began to thin a bit and we managed to get a couple of rides in (one on the Corkscrew coaster and one on the Crazy Beach Party ride) and we went through the Toxic Nightmare haunted house, which was pretty creepy. Sufficiently creepy anyway—Aki just about had a heart attack at one point when some costumed madman leapt out at him! There were some really neat costumed creepers zombie-ing around the park… a ‘dead’ couple, an insane clown posse, spooky stilt-walkers, etc. They would just kind of smoothly saunter up to people who weren’t paying attention and scare the crap out of them; I could usually tell where they were by the screams. Although one of the sinister clowns got me good while I was zoning out in the line-up for the Crazy Beach. He appeared out of nowhere and suddenly yelled “BONJOUR!” in my face in his scary clown voice. Predictably, I shrieked. Aki was disturbed that he didn’t say “Bonsoire,” seeing that it was the evening.

Anyway. That was last night. I paid for my late night of fun with tears in class today… I don’t foresee going out on weeknights for the rest of the duration of this course!

I’ll try to write whenever I can grab a few free moments, though it seems unlikely at this stage in the game. Know this: I love this course. It’s exhausting, but it is SO rewarding. If you think of me, send me some good vibes, I could use them! (Thank you, in advance!)

Namaste

Endrene

2008-10-15T09:19:00.001-07:00

I have been lucky to have been pretty healthy for the past year. I caught a wussy little head cold, (probably at the voting venue) and now I feel like crap. Well, high-grade crap, comparatively. I guess it’s good to get sick once in a while, to be humbled by a germ, and to feel a renewed sense of compassion for those who suffer more than I do.

Shouldn’t have done all of that wild naked moondancing last night.

Just kidding.

This makes me remember something from when I was learning how to use the archaic point-of-sale system at Opus. Chakara was explaining everything to me and the other trainee very diligently, and I was absorbing as much as I could. But at one point my brain hit that ‘full’ point, where all the knowledge sort of hits the side of my head, and denied entry to my ears, dribbles down my face like so much egg yolk. I must have looked gappy, because Chakara asked, “you OK?” and I replied, “I’m OK. I think I just need a hug and a nap.” (Chakara obliged me with a hug—so sweet of her!—but the nap had to be put off until a later time.)

Anyway, that’s kind of how I feel now, like all I could really use is a hug and a nap. My brain is full of modal auxiliary verbs and mucus… but I only have three days left at A-1 Pallet, and so much to do. POWER UP, Endrené! Write that manual! Fill out that two-week review form! Revise that training checklist! You can do it! Kachaaaaaa!

Good health and big warm hugs and nice cozy naps are wished for all of you.

Namaste,

Endrené

2008-10-14T14:14:00.001-07:00

I almost forgot! Tonight... the moon will be FAB-Yoo-LOus! Do the hippie thang, and give a little moondance a try tonight. You won't be sorry!

2008-10-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

Less than a week left at A-1 Pallet now. I’m tying up loose ends as best I can, trying to make things tidy and functional for Juwll and Sarah in the office so that it’s not too hard for them when I go. I don’t think it will be too difficult; if there’s one thing I’ve learned here, it’s that everyone is replaceable. I shouldn’t ever flatter myself that I am the ‘only one’ that can get any particular job done. Besides, if we all thought like, that, we’d all be stuck in jobs we hate, out of twisted loyalty and bitter pride.

(If any of you reading this just thought, “hey, that’s me,” I give you permission to find something you like better and quit your current job. The only thing you ‘owe’ to the world is your happiest, most functional self. Don’t just do what you can do. Do what you love.)

A few people are asking me what I plan to do once I’ve completed the CELTA program, where I plan to go. The truth is, I’m not sure. Right now, it’s just good to be taking the plunge and be going back to school. I’ve been plowing through the pretask, and now have a feeble grasp on verb tenses… did you know that there was such a thing as a perfect progressive past tense? I didn’t either, until last night.

I’m going to live with my friend Pat in Vancouver. I talked to him on the phone last night, and realized that I haven’t heard his voice in two years, and I’ve probably only met him three times… so it’s really openhearted of him to allow a relative stranger to move in to his apartment for a month. He’s warned me about the potential for mice (no big deal) and mess (also no big deal), I’m just wondering if there’s anything I should warn him about… maybe that green peppers make me gassy? Nathan is alright with the arrangement, and Pat has made it clear that Nathan is welcome to stay whenever as well. It’s altogether an astoundingly copasetic arrangement. Thank you, Universe! Buddha! God, or whoever/whatever! Thank you, Pat! Thank you, Global Village Vancouver! Life is good.

The power was out for a few hours at work, and it’s just now come back on. I think there was an accident down the highway involving a power pole… I could continue working, but everyone else in the office has cleared out, and I don’t believe in getting paid for slacking. I’ll hit the trail myself pretty soon. I’ll go vote. It’s election day… hooray! And just remember… if you DON’T vote, you’re not allowed to complain about the government. Sorry, but not voting is not cool.

2008-10-10T09:30:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah, and if I was American, I'd be OBAMA all the way, baby.

2008-10-10T09:27:00.000-07:00

Carnation brand hot chocolate’s catchphrase is “A Warm Hug on a Cold Day”. Isn’t that a lovely sentiment? Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we could all get our allotted warm hugs on cold days?

And it is COLD in the A-1 Pallet office this morning. I had frost on my car for the first time this season this morning. I’m wearing my A-1 toque, a giant grey hoodie of Nate’s, and my wooly ski-socks, as I sit here typing away. And I’m drinking a ‘poor man’s mocha’ (recipe: add one package of Carnation brand hot chocolate to one cup of crappy coffee.)

The election fast approacheth. I’m voting Green because
a) they don’t use dirty attack ads maligning the other party leaders
b) they want to make Canada a more ecologically happenin’ nation
c) they want to find a balance between ecology and economy…

I don’t know why people get so freaked out when world-saving measures like the Kyoto accord are hashed out. It’s as though if we all suddenly started being kinder to the earth, the global economy would collapse, and… hey, guess what? It’s collapsing anyway!

Bpppplllt. I don’t believe in money. It’s just an abstract concept. And economics is just a bunch of theories made up by frantic guys in gray suits. In times like these, the main thing to do is buy a bunch of veggie seeds, and plow a bunch of compost into your backyard for the winter. That way, by next spring you can plant your garden, the world can collapse, and you can still eat. But seriously… why can’t we have a resurgence of craftsmanship, bartering, and fair-trade? Why can’t we slow down and fill our heads up with useful knowledge, like how to make shoes out of roadkill and how to shit in the woods? Then we can exchange goods and services. You help me prune my apple trees in the spring, I’ll give you some apples in the autumn. You bring me some eggs from your chickens twice a month, and I’ll make you some roadkill boots.

More reasonably, have a look at New Zealand. Quite a number of years ago, it dawned on the country that worldwide, there was a limited amount of fossil fuel, and thus they couldn’t depend on other countries and continents to be shipping them foods and staples forever. They had to find ways to be self-sufficient. And they have done a lot to achieve that end, in terms of food production and focusing on boosting the value of the products being produced in the country.
I’ve never figured out why Canada sells its raw lumber to the USA. The USA turns the lumber into useful items that they sell back to Canada. Is that ridiculous or what? What are we doing?

Anyway. Vote Green. Boost your skill set with useful survival skills. Get or give a Warm Hug on a Cold Day.

2008-10-08T14:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a sudden burst of energy after watching Grey’s Anatomy and eating dinner at Sarah’s house, and I rushed home to gather Nate up along with shampoo and conditioner and swimsuits and towels. We were going swimming, and that was that! Usually when Nate harasses me to go swimming I opt out for one reason or another. All excuses, usually.

We went to the pool in Walnut Grove, which has an excellent water slide and an adults-only hot-tub (no splashing, no screaming, no pee-pee in the pool), and a steam room. I usually end the evening in the steam room, sweating like a cheese in August. Sometimes people sneak in with a bottle of cold water and pour some over the thermostat to make it pump out extra steam. Last night it wasn’t very steamy, so I was hoping a bottle-smuggler would appear. My wish is my command! In came this smiling chubby Asian man, very Buddha-esque. He dumped the WHOLE bottle on the thermostat, and laughed when I thanked him. The steam quickly got thick and hot. While he plopped himself down on the top shelf to my right, the other two people in there limply made for the door like overcooked broccoli. I sneaked a glance through the fog at the steam-Buddha beside me… he was doing yoga! Breathing slowly and carefully so that I wouldn’t burn my throat, I tried stretching too- it was fabulous, my muscles like melted butter. I imagined the inside of my body as a cool continent, the exterior only slowly warming. But really, it had never been so hot in there— I eventually had to make for the door myself, leaving the guy folded in half like a jackknife. I had little patches of steam burns on my knees and belly. It was totally worth it. Steam rooms are weird little pockets of society.

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

The Stanley Park miniature railway is all decked out for the yearly Ghost Train… I am so excited! They start the ride on October 10th, I think. This year, the theme is PIRATES! I’ve only been on it once before with my dad, in 2006 I think. The theme was the Mexican Day of the Dead. It was a blast, very festive and colourful (and only a little scary)! Also, the PNE Playland is opening on the 18th for FRIGHT NIGHTS - I’ve never gone to that before. Tamara and Brad were talking about maybe coming down for both of those… that would be a blast. I haven’t been in a good haunted house for years. Although I did have a dream that the Disney Haunted House had ‘Adult’ alternatives of the ride, which involved experimental mind-bending alternate realities… but that’s another story…

2008-10-06T14:07:00.002-07:00

Fabulous news! I have a WEBSITE! (distant cheering echoes in my ears...)

www.endrene.com

It's going to be where you can go to check out my artwork. For now, it doesn't showcase any of my paintings, but it has a smattering of works from my sketchbooks from the past three years. Check it out! Major kudos go to my designers and marketers, Amy and Christie of FRESH marketing. www.freshmarketing.ca These ladies do lovely juicy work.

And off on another random tangent... I realized that I have been posting in the Japanese time-zone for the past year and a half. Even though I don't live in Japan anymore. It's 2:13 pm, Monday October 6th. For the record. I'll fix that as soon as I finish this post.

2008-10-03T12:42:00.001-07:00

Brought this to work in my pocket today. It is from my “Dalai Lama Quote per Day” Calendar, and it was just so good, I couldn’t leave it sitting on top my dishwasher:
“Merely thinking that compassion and reason and patience are good will not be enough to develop them. We must wait for difficulties to arise and then attempt to practice them.”
That Dalai Lama… you gotta love him and his big smiling heart.

Hard to believe the weekend has already rolled around again! Nathan and I went to an Outlaw race in Britannia Beach (near Squamish, on Hwy 99) last weekend. It was fun; there was enough safety and control involved so that I wasn’t entirely freaked out. I volunteered on one of the corners, and waved the speedboarders through if it was safe to proceed (it always was). Nate’s Switchback team member, Jeremy Banting, came in third in the race. I found this highly amusing, because the name “Banting” has the ring of authority in the Speedboarding circles (at least as far as I know… which isn’t very far)… and Jeremy… well. Jeremy just doesn’t strike me as a figure of authority. More a figure of comedy; the straight-man to Kelsey’s wild card. I didn’t put “Jeremy” and “Banting” together until last weekend. (go to http://www.switchbacklongboards.com/ and click on ‘Team’ to see the guys I am talking about. I don’t think they have many groupies yet, so they’ll gladly accept a few more).

I like it when the events are good clean fun, like last weekend’s race. The longboarders are mostly respectful and informative to curious passerby and interlopers. But then you get the occasional assholic personality, and they ruin it for the other guys (and girls). The big championships in Maryhill WA saw some of those badass people, and now the nearby town no longer wants to have anything to do with speedboaring events. I mean—these smalltown people opened up their hearts, volunteered, let these guys (and girls) camp, provided facilities for them, even fed them all breakfast… and then a few narrow-minded individuals went and spray painted graffiti and broke mirrors and tipped sculptures, and generally caused thousands of dollars of damage, and irreparably damaged the relationship between the townsfolk and the speedboarders. I mean, who wants to open their doors to hoodlums?

I’ll continue to support the speedboarders, but only the nice ones who don’t say the F-word in front of children, and take the time to educate the skeptics. No point in hating the haters… they only hate what they fear. So erase the fear with knowledge, and you erase the hate. Hey speedboarders: listen to the Dalai Lama, yo.

This weekend Nate and I are heading up to see mom in Kaleden. I’m hoping that I’ll have some free time to say—go for breakfast at White Spot with some of my home-town homies. 10 am Saturday morning? See you there!

2008-10-02T11:47:00.002-07:00

It's overcast today, cool. Spotlets of rain are starting to pounce into the dust of the yard here and there. It smells like the fibreglass guys next door are busy-- it's a poisonous stench. I won't miss that when I'm gone from here.

I feel a little overwhelmed lately, with emotions that shift like an undertow, invisible to the people around me.

Autumn is like this. Always changing, often unpredictably.

I went for a walk as soon as the lunch bell went. I need more alone time than I have been getting, especially as I am about to launch back into the nonstop social melee of school again. I thought about a few things; about how Nathan is determined to move to Nanaimo, and how I support him on this decision, not really knowing what it means for ‘us’. About the job in Tokushima that Bubu has emailed me about. About the fact that I have been criticized quite a lot in the past few years for ‘being in my head’ too much… when actually, it’s quite a nice place to be. My head is the place that produces my artwork, my dreams and my plans. I like going there, being there.

But I guess I have to come back from it, too. It’s not a place to stay. It’s not a place of actuality and accomplishment. What was that quote I read recently… “We tend to judge ourselves by our intentions, while the world judges us by our actions”. In fact, I think I put that quote in this blog already last month.

I guess it’s pertinent right now.

2008-09-29T09:41:00.003-07:00

We're already gearing up for the Christmas party (though I might not be part of it, if I've got a new job by then). Regardless, Sarah got us to fill out 'Wish Lists' of things that we all might like to have at the Christmas Auction. We do an auction every month, with things like gift certificates for the Spaghetti Factory and the movies. But the Christmas auction will be BIG! I wished for a Nintendo Wii and a basket full of wine and cheese and chocolate. But you've got to see this list -(this is from Justin, one of the production workers):

Bottle of Gin
30 Case of Molson
Strippers
Ounce of Kush
Canuck Tickets
HD TV
Hot-tub full of Playboy Bunnies
No Dish Days for a Year

This guy cracks me up. He's not all there, but he's got a wicked sense of humor. He's once asked me, upon hearing hearing that I lived in Japan, whether I had ever "encountered Godzilla".

2008-09-26T12:59:00.001-07:00

Excitement of the day: we got a new fax machine in the office (exactly like the old one, in fact) and we played with the plastic bags, putting them on our heads like stupid white flat chef hats. Don’t worry, mom. We were careful. No one suffocated... this time.

2008-09-25T15:12:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of several things that I want to do. That I’m going to do. No point in feeling divided about what I should do, what I shouldn’t. No point in shoulds at all. There aren’t even any priorities, not really… I figure everything will happen within the time period that is meant to happen within. Maybe these are those “Autumn New Year’s Resolutions I was talking about...

* Learn more about celebrating Japanese holidays (loved the sense of consistent ongoing and upcoming rituals when I was living there, don’t feel so connected to the Catholic rituals that used to have a lot of meaning for me)

* Find a church/spiritual group that jives with my own whacked sense of values and goodness and compassion…I want to look further into Buddhism. Too many Christians (not all, mind you) don’t walk the talk, and I’m not willing to rejoin that flock.

* Buy a laptop computer with wireless internet.

* Start working on my CELTA pre-task. Ok, this one really is a priority.

* Own a dog! Or—we’ll start with living somewhere that I can own a dog…yeah. Maybe… it’s prissy, but I really like Papillions. And wiener dogs. Big dogs typically have better attitudes, but they eat a lot. And poop a lot… But if I get a little one, I promise I won’t dress it in ridiculous outfits. Except maybe for Halloween.

* Get a new (non-dead) camera. Go on photo-walks. I got this idea from Maggie Ann (http://mostsincerely.squarespace.com) but I realize that I used to do it all the time as a hobby when I lived in Tokushima. It was a way to really get intimate with the shapes and colours of my surroundings, instead of just taking them for granted.

* Move to a place that has an ocean nearby. And a bathtub. I’m sooooo tired of only showering all the time… it feels incomplete.

* Build a Japanese style house and garden, of my own design, from scratch. (With help, of course).

* Go to the Burning Man Festival.

* Put a bid in for painting that huge Centennial mural in my home town. That would be so much fun!

* Actually thoroughly follow all of the advice that my Naturopath has given to me.

* Laugh more. And more! AND MORE! I can do this by hanging out with more funny people. You know who you are, and you know you want to hang out sometime. Call me. (^-~)

* Pay for a haircut the next time instead of doing it myself. Knowing what I want and being able to perform the actions to get what I want – in this case, the two do not jive!

* Live abroad again.

* Buy some new socks and underwear. Get rid of some old socks and underwear, and shoes and books and knick-knacks that clutter up my life as opposed to filling it with happy memories. As much as I like having new things, I like having few things even better.

This… is a good beginning.

2008-09-24T14:06:00.003-07:00

I noticed I said 'crunchy' more than once in my previous post. Must have been my buzzword that day.

Tachi has been and gone. What a whirlwind weekend! He arrived Friday, 11am. We checked him in, went for lunch at a Greek restaurant (the FIRST TIME he ate Greek food!), walked along the Beach across from Vanier Park, and then took one of the mini-ferries to Granville Island.

Taichi was amazed by the following: The fact that all the cars drive with their lights on during the day ("for safety," I said). The flashing 'stop' hand signal at the crosswalk (he thought it looked like someone waving and beckoning. In Japan, the 'don't walk' signal is a picture of a figure standing still). Fruit and veggies in the market, loosely and freely piled up (in Japan, everything is wrapped in singles and pairs and threes).

Everything was amazing to him. I was so glad to be a part of someone seeing Vancouver with freah eyes-- enthralled with funny things that I take for granted, like streets with names and gay pride on Davie Street and souvlaki.

It made me miss Japan a bit, too. OK, a LOT. I felt the old inner conflict as to whether or not I had made the right desicion when I came back to Canada. The feeling didn't last, though. Mostly because I am moving forward right now, rather than standing stock-still out of fear of moving in the wrong direction. I'll be in school in less than a month, and following that I'll be teaching English again. That makes me feel SO great.

Additionally, things are finally starting to move with my website. I dropped my camera last month and killed it quite dead, so I decided that instead of waiting until I can afford a new one to take pictures of my artwork with... what can I do? I gave my sketchbooks over to Amy at Fresh Marketing, and she is scanning them in. I am also in touch with Ann at myartspace.com (did I get that right? dunno) and I am going to an info session with them this Saturday. They have capabilities for scanning my larger artworks in. I'm stoked!

I have to look for alternative means of income at this time. Nathan wants to support me while I go to school, but his income doesn't really pack the punch we need. I appreciate his thoughtfullness, but it's clear that I will incur debt. So-- instead of standing still, what can I do? Sell artwork. Find out what the government is doing with my GST cheques. Etc. There's money out there. I just have to attract it. It'll be easy... I feel magnetic!

Back to Taichi. We had fun. Lots of it. Kat joined us on Saturday and we went to the Blodel Conservatory and Queen Elizabeth park, and then out to Aldergrove for Bekka's birthday party. Sunday he and I took the ferry to Victoria and saw the Snowbirds, a bicycle race, the Government buildings, the Empress hotel, and the Butchart Gardens. We utterly exhausted ourselves.

Now, I rest, and gear up for the next big thing. Love to you all, wonderful readers!

Namaste

2008-09-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

September, as far as I’m concerned, is the time to make New Year’s Resolutions. Because this IS the REAL New Year. Crayons, crunchy leaves, cool breezes, bright sun. Crunchy apples. I don’t even LIKE apples all the rest of the year, but in September… yummmmmm.

I wan to adhere to a higher quality of interaction with people on a daily basis. I understand that our society frowns upon open displays of enthusiasm (unless you are an actor in a Joe FRESH commercial) but I am not going to allow my enthusiasm to be stymied. I also understand that we are judged by our actions, while we tend to judge ourselves by our intentions. These are New Year’s RESOLUTIONS, not INTENTIONS, so I guarantee ACTION.

I resolve to make the world brighter whenever I can. I resolve to kick pessimism to the curb. I resolve to be open to the shift and growth within, and not crush it out of fear of the unknown.

And now I resolve to get back to work, so that when I leave A-1 Pallet in October, I leave it better for having been here.

2008-09-15T14:57:00.000-07:00

It’s HOT in this A-1 Pallet office. Eightch-Oh-Tee, Hawt. It’s been one of those days; everyone’s head has been down. We’ve all been working. There are no blinds on the window behind me; my back is cooking, my shoes are off, my forearms are slipping around in the sweat they have made on the desk.

Then I remember: my brother’s a firefighter. I don’t KNOW what hot IS.

* * * * * * * * * * *

My spot in the CELTA program has been verified, and I started fishing immediately for a couch/corner/closet to crash on/in for a month. I think I may have found a place to stay in downtown Vancouver… I just have to sort out some details. But it looks as though I may be able to pay my rent in drawings and stories with animals as the main characters. Cake-walk!

I’m so stoked… This next chapter of my life is unfolding as perfectly as a giant pink peony.

2008-09-12T09:05:00.003-07:00

I did it. I think I'm in. Exhale...

I grossly miscalculated the amount of time it would take to get from Aldergrove to downtown Vancouver for the CELTA interview, and I was a horrifying half-hour late. I was only just embarking upon the Port Mann bridge at the moment the interview was about to begin-- upon hearing the time on the radio (no clock in the car, no watch, no cell phone) I came unhinged and bawled -- and I mean loud hiccupping sobs with snot and tears streaming-- for the entire span of the bridge. I decided to go in anyway. The worst that could happen would be that I would get kicked out before I began. In the grand scheme of things, that's not so bad. Snuffling and strangely cleansed, I drove calmly into Vancouver, parked, found the school, and was accepted as a belated participant into the group interview. And ultimately, accepted into the program (I'm pretty sure).

Nathan is pleased for me, proud, even. I am too. Just a little drained after yesterday. I still have to get ahold of mom and dad to share the news... I wish they'd hook up their answering machine! I think I'll need to find somewhere in Vancouver to stay for the month-long course so that the commute doesn't destroy me (financially and physically/emotionally)!

2008-09-11T10:55:00.001-07:00

Interview for the CELTA program today. Wish me luck.

2008-09-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

Sarah’s mom Donna is reading Eckhardt Tolle’s book, “The Power of Now”. I read it a few years ago, but I think it might be a good time to revisit it. It’s sticky reading, but it produces excellent personal results. Namely as sense of calm and acceptance for “WHAT IS.” Whatever it is.

We were talking about the book over lunch yesterday. Sarah didn’t come home for lunch yesterday, and I went on my own (usually we go for lunch at Sarah’s mom and dad’s house together—isn’t that cool? Spoiled is what I am). Something she got out of the book had to do with why we are so creative and ‘free’ in school, but find ourselves stymied once we enter the so-called ‘real world’. You know—the world of jobs and bills and relationships and responsibilities and… so on.

In school, the tasks are defined. What we do and don’t do is clear, distinct, simple. Between those spaces, our minds are free to enjoy the creative activities that we are engaged in. We grow easily, unabashedly. Outside of school, we suddenly have a lot more undefined responsibilities. How do you bake a potato and raise a family and pay taxes and balance chequebooks and find satisfaction in your career? There is no teacher telling us how or grading us on these things. We think hard about these things. The harder you think about something, the less likely you are actually be engaged in doing it.

Which is why I don’t talk about my artwork anymore. I don’t like to talk about it. If I’m talking and thinking and puzzling and planning… then I’m definitely not creating. And our egos… they love to plan. And plan, plannity-plan-plan plan. This amounts to the tenant of “Ready, Aim, aaaaiim… aaaaaaaaaaaaim…”

Me, I want the “Fire”.

BANG!

2008-09-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

These are exciting times! I called the school I am interested in attending on Friday to see if they had any room left in the October session. A few spots remained; if I got my application in by Monday, there was a chance I could get in to an upcoming interview session. I put my application in yesterday (Monday)—and lo and behold, I have an interview this week!

Money will be tight, close to nonexistent, in fact. Surprisingly, I’m OK with this. It feels good to be going back to school on my own steam (or really, on my own debt). Besides, I can almost double my income with the jobs I can get with the certification I am going for. So debt doesn’t scare me. Much.

I feel like I’ve already got it, like I’m already in.

The weekend was jam-packed and fun. Nate and I travelled down to Everett, WA on Friday evening and spent the evening in a cheap-ass motel that had fleas and a mattress that sagged. We watched ‘Titanic’ on the tiny TV and ate American junk food (spicy Cheetos and Cherry Coke). The next day we went south to Bothell for the Koi show that Nate has been obsessing about for the past two months. He was a little disappointed that we didn’t enter any of our fish. (He had been prepping them for the show, making sure they were nice and shiny and happy and all of that, when one after another of them came down with carp colds and bloody lips and split fins and all of the myriad of koi maladies that I didn’t even know existed.) Anyway, he barely budged from the show tanks for the whole day, and even bought two more fish. Surprise, surprise. I explored the cute little ‘Country Village’ where the koi show was taking place – kind of like a themed outdoor mall/park. A mini steam train would chug through the parking lot, packed full of passive-looking kids and grandmas. I looked at hats and miniature porcelain mice and old-fashioned candy and antique furniture. I ate a gyro and a giant shortbread cookie covered in orange cream icing. I watched a glass blower teaching a little girl how to blow glass. I went back to the car, put the seat back and read my book. It was a nice day. The weather was great, and the drive home was smooth and easy.

Sunday we went to Wreck Beach. Everyone knows what happens at Wreck Beach! Body surfing in the ice-cold Pacific waters, body-watching (hee hee hee), and the covert purchase of a blue freezie with rum in it from a topless redhead. Fun for all!

Ummmm. Rummy freezie. What I want to know is—how did she get the rum inside?

Good weekend. Happy days.

2008-09-05T15:28:00.002-07:00

I have been seriously examining my private journal from the time I spent in Japan. What surprises me in retrospect is how rosy I have painted the entire 'Japan' picture since returning to Canada last year.

The truth was/is that I was lonely, conflicted, unbalanced and uncertain for much of the time. I felt like I was living in a patriarchal alien zoo. I drank too much, neglected my health, ignored my creative impulses. Which isn't to say that I'm sorry I did it-- I'm just feeling less yearning to go back to that time now. And that's awesome.

I am so glad that I will be leaving my twenties in a matter of months! I already feel the certainty and empowerment that getting another decade under the belt brings.

2008-08-29T09:59:00.002-07:00

Quote of the WEEK:

“Holding two sets of competing beliefs paralyzes them.”

-Martha Beck

I’ve been thinking about this one all week. It has been really relevant to me, as I think I have gone through much of my twenties holding two sets of competing beliefs simultaneously – ever paralyzed in one realm of my life or another. The key to getting past this is to make a choice. Any choice. Choosing is action, and action brings new choices and opportunities—so in essence, there can’t be any such thing as a bad decision. I also see this as a way to end fear about commitment. When you commit to a choice, you move forward – and even commitments have beginnings, middles and ends—so committing isn’t ‘forever’. (Thank you, Barbara Sher!) I can hack that.

Anyway.

I finally booked Taichi’s hotel for him. Wow, are Vancouver accommodations ever expensive! Poor Taichi thought he might get two hotel rooms for $200 a night (he wanted me to stay in the same hotel, as an easily accessible interpreter/tour guide/cultural hostess). Ha! Well, #1 -- I’m not so sure Nathan would have been entirely comfortable situation, and #2 – a cheapie room at the YWCA (with shared washrooms) runs $90 a night, so… I took a chance and booked him into a really beautiful suite with a Jacuzzi tub and a kitchenette and a King-sized bed. I figured if he has to spend around $180 a night for a decent two-star hotel room, he might as well spend the whole allotted $200 on himself and get something SUPERFINE. Right? Four stars for Taichi!

Other news regarding recent successes—I am pretty good at the ‘snake arms’ movement in belly dancing class. Yay for me. I have yet to master undulations. Or even really ‘get’ them, never mind ‘master’.

Oh, and the biggest best thing of all—I finally made a decision about my career. This is enormously satisfying. I had decided a little while ago, but wanted to talk to Sarah (aka my boss/best buddy) before I put it ‘out’ there. My goal is sustainable cultural immersion, therefore teaching English as a second language is a natural choice. I miss teaching, I miss the students, and I have very few ‘cons’ on my pro/con list for instructing ESL. I would love to possibly teach high school in the future, or perhaps be a travel writer— or this or that or the other thing. Any way I toss it, getting back into teaching English is a great first step towards any goal.

I finally feel empowered to want the things I really want, and not feel like I owe it to someone to behave a certain way or walk a particular path. There is no ‘straight line’ for me, and I am damn excited about it! Better than feeling apologetic for not jumping straight out of high school into a career as an art teacher, like many people assumed I would. Hooray!

The hardest thing about all of this so far is my relationship with Nathan – I suppose I did say that commitments have beginnings, middles and ends. Luckily he and I are able to talk about our relationship logically, and it’s beginning to be clear to both of us that while we may love each other, our life paths may take us in entirely separate directions. There’s no point in dragging Nate around the world if his dream is to live in the boonies raising koi and growing bonsai. And he doesn’t want to force me into loving his lifestyle either. We both already know that it won’t work. Right now we’re already living in that suspended state between two conflicting lifestyles. There is a sort generosity of spirit that comes from our being able to discuss these shiftings openly; I feel like now that the changes have been set in motion, we are enjoying each other’s company more than ever before. Now that we have been honest and clear with each other. Now that there is an ‘ending’ on the horizon.

I told you... big changes! Deep breaths, open heart.

Namaste,

Endrene

2008-08-26T14:02:00.001-07:00

Last night’s strange dream…

I was flying on a jumbo jet, super-jumbo, like a Passport Services waiting room in the sky. There were rows upon rows of people—this sucker was full. The guy next to me was a Japanese man. He was so small that he had to sit in a booster seat, which he seemed to take in stride.

Suddenly things started to go terribly wrong. I think I first noticed it when turbulence sent somebody not wearing their seat belt straight up in the air, like a popping popcorn kernel. The plane started to shake violently. People started to scream. I was alarmed, but not freaked out—I was just kind of taking it all in. People continued to fly haphazardly around the inside of the plane alongside bags knocked out of storage and dinner trays (which sprayed corn everywhere). People were screaming and screaming.

The worst thing was that people were starting to get abusive with one another, and that was what was truly upsetting to me. A husband and wife turned against to each other, shrieking about how they both wished they’d never married. A scared fat woman with a mustache, big brown eyes, and a lime-green coat, tried to push past us, looking for somewhere safer. People in my aisle hurled insults at her.

At some point I turned to the little Japanese man beside me. He was calmer than everyone else, like me. We looked at each other and I held one of his small hands. I was thinking, “he understands…” but then he began to profess his love for me. I felt annoyed and disgusted with him, and maddened with everyone—like everyone had it wrong. Everyone had this moment of terror to get their lives right, and everyone was wasting their energy on useless emotions—anger, fury, bitterness, regret, fear, even love and passion. In being annoyed, I felt myself losing the grip of ‘rightness’. I let go of the man’s hand and turned to watch the disaster unfold.

It didn’t. The plane righted itself. People began to get up off of the floor, move back to their seats, pick corn out of their hair. Everyone had an air of embarrassment. People began to murmur apologies, make small jokes to pretend that nothing had happened. I was so shocked—it was as though everyone had just sold their collective souls, and now they were in denial of the momentous event.

I woke up, feeling like I was choking on an angry yell.

2008-08-25T12:32:00.002-07:00

"Pain is the price you pay for resisting life. "

-Dr. Phil McGraw

Whatever any of us think about good ol' Dr. Pee McGee, this quote makes sense. So stop resisting, already!

2008-08-25T10:29:00.000-07:00

Another weekend past—another week closer to September! This is the time of year that we all start to wonder what the heck happened to summer. Particularly if a) you are going back to school (which I am not) or b) you live in a climate which is rapidly cooling (which I do). I am especially annoyed by the waning days, as summer took far too long to get here in the first place. The cool beginnings made for a fantastic and extended blossom season, but the hot-hot days were far too few and far between.

My friend and former student Taichi Nakamura is coming to Vancouver in a couple of weeks. I am his designated tour guide, and I am feeling a little bit panicked as he wants to do the following in the space of three days: Go to Queen Elizabeth Park. See Canada Place. Go hiking. Ride a ferry to Victoria. See Butchart Gardens. Eat smoked salmon and oysters… OK, so it isn’t so bad. I’m just feeling a huge wave of overpowering obligation because I always have this sort of NEED to show Japanese people (any Japanese people, this includes strangers on the Skytrain too) how great BC is. And how nice and polite Canadians are (even if my own experience with my people might illustrate otherwise at times).

Anyway. He also wants me to book his hotel, and pick him up at the airport, and I am anxious because I’m not sure I’ll pick the right hotel. And I’m embarrassed by my junky little red go-cart car with the enormous crack in the windshield and the pervasive smell of wet dog—even though I don’t own a dog.

Why am I panicked? Why does this matter so much?

As long as he has fun, I’ll have fun too. And he’s never been here before, so he can’t have too many expectations—I hope.

2008-08-21T14:03:00.002-07:00

I broke through.

I’ve been stuck, frustrated and deeply annoyed with myself, until 6:47pm on Tuesday evening.

I have been reading “I COULD DO ANYTHING, If I Only Knew What it Was” by Barbara Sher. At first, I was elated, because the exercises at the beginning of the book really led me to plow through the junk piles of “what if” and “I should” and “maybe I ought to”. I began to peel away my scabby guilt-gobs, to see what was plugging up the portal of my potential. A whole lot of stuff, it turns out!

I’ve been so afraid. Afraid to commit. Afraid to plunge into the depths of my abilities. Afraid to go for what I really wanted, because it’s always been easier to stay in roles where I knew how to please, how to be the ‘good employee’, the ‘good girl’. Not surprisingly, bringing these things into my complete consciousness unleashed a torrent of anger. I was furious at myself for wasting my own time, for not figuring this out sooner. Thankfully, Barbara Sher continually reminded me to be gentle with myself, to be forgiving—you can’t get angry at a car that doesn’t go, if the problem is that it’s out of gas. And you can’t get angry at yourself for utilizing the coping mechanisms you learned as a kid. All you can do is realize that you’re a grown-up now, and it’s time to find a better way to do things. A more fruitful way.

Regardless, I was still mad. I couldn’t find myself in the second part of the book, the part of the book that breaks down the various types of blockages and tells you what to do about them. I was getting frantic, reading three chapters at once, flipping between them, hoping the next page would be the one with the mirror.

On 6:47pm on Tuesday evening I found it, I found the mirror. I was trying to gulp down the last of the three chapters before my counseling session, so if nothing else, I could at least say to Gerry “I tried to use the book, but it didn’t work for me”. But it did!

I am a ‘Frustrated Diver’. To everyone on the outside, I appear to be a ‘Scanner’ (someone who needs to do and taste and try a little bit of everything). But what I really am is someone who desperately wants to dive, to get really deep into something—but I have allowed my fears to keep me floating on the surface. My fears have turned me into “Odd Job Joe” (as my brother once so kindly put it).

I think I instinctively knew that it was my high-speed scanning that sent me into my high-speed wobble, so I forced myself to try and ‘settle down’—because from the outside, that seemed like the good, normal, sane thing to do. I don’t think I thought very much about whether or not it was what I really wanted for myself. I got the job, the basement suite, the fish tank, the fiancé. Then I sat back and waited for the happiness to come. And it didn’t.

I pushed too hard. I tried to follow rules that were never really there. I tried to be the “good girl”.

Now everything is starting to open up again. I’m starting to feel passion and hope come flooding back in. I’m making plans. I’m dreaming dreams. I realize the next bits of my life might be scary and difficult— I'll have to make some big changes. But I realize that I’ll learn so much more than I ever could sitting still. I also realize that I can make these big changes by taking small steps.

I’ll be doing a lot more for the world by being wholly myself than I ever will by trying to ‘behave’ for the make-believe ‘someone else’.

2008-08-20T15:34:00.001-07:00

"Do not wait for leaders. Do it alone, person to person."

- Mother Theresa

2008-08-20T09:57:00.001-07:00

I hate it when nuts get caught in my teeth. I just mauled one of those Sweet and Salty Mixed Nut bars and a chunk has lodged itself in the small black hole that appeared behind my meat shredding teeth, following the loss of a filling. I don’t like nuts in my teeth, but I don’t like the dentist more. It’s a good thing that I am a habitual flosser.

Why are we all so sad? When did apathy become cool? Long before Emo, long before goth cool, before grunge… I remember how I savoured and coveted my little store of private enthusiasm in high-school. I couldn’t wait until University! Where everyone would be happy! Pep rallies! Football games and sunny days and ponytails and shiny white teeth!

Wow. Was I ever disappointed. My 1950’s Pop-Dream was dashed to pieces on the cold ubiquitous cement walls of SFU, circa 1997.

I have been drifting, searching for enthusiasm. Only recently have I discovered that my pervasive habit of stuffing desire down whenever it peeks up has been responsible for suffocating enthusiasm before it can shriek its announcement of life. It’s time to let desire and passion and gusto breathe freely. Hey, everybody! I’ve decided that I DON’T CARE if you think I’m odd when I blow bubbles on the beach, when I sing out loud in my car, when I start wiggling with joy over good gelato (or these days, over a good rice cracker with antipasto)!

Here’s the thing—being happy in and of yourself is MAGNETIC. It attracts good things to you; good people, prime situations, awesome opportunities. You know this if you’ve read the Secret, if you’ve read A New Earth—hell, you know it if you’ve taken the time to read the back of a box of Froot Loops. We get happiness and satisfaction out of deciding to be happy.

Making the decision, and following through on it isn’t easy, though. Maybe that’s why we all stay stuck and sad. Because there is no purple pill that can infuse us with this understanding. Being happy is work, even HARD work. But I think it’s worth it.

2008-08-15T08:13:00.002-07:00

I was looking at some of my posts from when I lived in Japan, and decided to scroll thought them randomly. I ended up selecting December 5th, 2006… which began with my tale of woe about “chronic (something) of the patellae” – knee trouble—and ended with me sobbing into my clean socks in the laundry room of Dia Palace Sakosanbancho, Tokushima. Habit of Happiness? I was slipping there.

The entry previous to that one was a slap-dash list of the events I experienced in Kyoto when I travelled there with Ume and her mom—it brought back glimmers of memories that I had almost forgotten about. Like wandering around the labyrinth of the geisha district, hoping to see one; eating tiny perfectly shaped creamy Kyoto tofu in a restaurant the size of a small bedroom; sitting among the little red-dressed buddhas and slabs of indecipherable carved rocks on Inariyama, watching the yellow leaves drift down. We even experienced a “Fox’s Wedding” on Inariyama—when the sun shines and the rain falls at the same time. It was gorgeous, and perfect, because we were near an Inari shrine at that moment, and Inari is a shape-shifting goddess whose primary messengers are white foxes. Additionally, I sort of took the foxes on as my patron spirits while I lived in Japan, and never passed up an opportunity to stop at a fox shrine if I came across one. (Although most of my male Japanese friends did not think highly of the foxes—they are associated with sneaky devious female wiles—which might conversely be why I liked them so much).

Anyway—back to the sobbing in the socks part. I was lonely. I didn’t know what I was doing, and yet I look back, and I can see that I WAS doing. Doing something. Teaching. Working. Exploring. I think what happened was once the newness and freshness of my adventure wore off, I was once again struck with a crisis of meaning. I knew all the dirty words in Japanese, and a good smattering of clean ones. I had been to an onsen, eaten fugu, dressed up like a geisha. I wanted (and still do want) to have my work, my time on this earth, be of some value and significance—and not just to myself. I want work that engages me fully AND presents opportunities for adventure AND does good things for others. I will find this work! It is my solemn promise to myself. Additionally, a friend of mine reminded me that I had given myself until this coming September to figure out what my next move would be, and she’s going to hold me to it—so if I can’t do it for me, I can always do it for someone else! (^_~)

I’m working on this, I really am. There is nothing I want more than to bring the wholeness of myself—my creativity, empathy, my ability to create beauty, my own particular ‘light’—to the world, and share it as a gift, as I was meant to. Remember this, everyone: in the history of the universe, there will never be another person exactly like you.

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

Endrene wholeheartedly recommends “I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was” by Barbara Sher… the best first step she has ever come across for finding your true calling!

2008-08-13T13:00:00.002-07:00

I got clipped by a truck when I was riding my bike today-- he knocked me right off my bike, and I tumbled to the shoulder of the road. I was unhurt-- but geez! I sat up quickly enough to see him drive away... luckily I got his license plate number. Who DOES that? Who hits a person and drives away? Ha! The cops are after you now, buddy! I might not have called them if you'd actually stopped to see if I was OK! Wienerhead!

Karma gets you every time, and sometimes Karma comes in a police cruiser. Speaking of which, I guess I have to earn up a little more good karma if I'm the one getting smacked by pickup trucks...

Wear your helmet, folks!

2008-08-12T10:23:00.000-07:00

Mom and Dad’s party is over and done! Thanks so much to all of those who helped out!

Sarah acted as our photographer, as the one I had booked had a family emergency. We (Sandy, Nathan, Katie, Mom and Dad and I) all met up at the Japanese Garden in Penticton, next to the art gallery… a good location for some arty shots! We went to Earl’s following that to have lunch. We finished eating a little sooner than I expected to, and Mom was pushing to go home for a nap. Luckily the Penticton Pipe Band was there as well, having lunch after the Peach Fest parade… a good temporary distraction for Mom and Dad, which bought us some time. (They both used to be movers and shakers in the Pipe Band back when Sandy was their bass drummer).

We took East Side Road along Skaha Lake to stretch the time out just a little more. When we arrived at mom and dad’s house in Kaleden, I was surprised that there were no cars parked in front of the house, no decorations on the deck… where was everyone? Did they forget to come? When we opened the front door, I saw the “Happy 40th Anniversary” banner strung up on the banister, balloons… but still silence. This was going well! Mom and Dad cautiously moved into the foyer as we hung back. I had butterflies in my stomach for them! As they started up the stairs, I could see that everyone was gathered around the top landing, looking down… and they all shouted SURPRISE! I think the best thing for me was my parent’s reactions when they saw some of the folks I had managed to gather up… Sandy’s and my babysitter from Port Moody, old family friends and co-workers from ‘way back, church friends and family members. Some people couldn’t make it, but as the house was full it all worked out as it was meant to. Sandy and his friends looked after the meat and the alcohol, me and my friends (and Sandy’s girlfriend’s mom, Judy) managed the salads and snacks.

My first surprise party! The first one I have ever been a part of anyway… success! But for the 50th, they had better plan their own party! After this, I’m through with social planning… (^_~)

2008-08-06T14:30:00.003-07:00

Here's what everybody needs to know: I don't know what I want. I don't know where I want to live, what I want to do, when, how, I don't KNOW anything. Maybe I want to live in Penticton. Maybe I want to live in Nanaimo. Maybe I want to live in India and become a Buddhist nun. Maybe not.

Please don't hold me accountable to making decisions that suit your vision of who you think I am. Give me space, time, and a forum for expressing what I have learned and what I realize I have NOT learned.

I'll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, don't judge, yo.

2008-08-05T15:41:00.000-07:00

I decided at the last minute to go to the island with Nathan. So much for all of the “should haves”. Besides, how am I supposed to know ‘what’s in it for me’ unless I make an effort to find out?

I really liked Nanaimo—at least the part of it where we were, in Harewood or ‘University Town’. Harewood isn’t too far from Nanaimo proper, the notorious downtown with the ancient bastion, cute little harbour and myriads of crackheads. Harewood is low-end, with huge potential. Lots of 40’s era quirky abodes housing students, Hell’s Angels, and stray cats; all sporting yards with dried-out grass lawns. And in the case of Nathan’s friend Aaron’s place, pots full of colourful fake flowers (he and his girl Jennie readily admit to an absence of green thumbs in their household). I think the rent they are paying for their 2-bedroom house-and-yard is roughly equivalent to what Nate and I are dishing out for the one-bedroom basement suite in Aldergrove. I think Aldergrove should pay ME to live here.

Anyway, Nanaimo stuck me as dirty and sweet—ripe for a little cultural revolution. There are some arty-funky shops downtown which always bolsters my spirit. It seemed like the more icky-type shops (Pawn Shops, XXX Video Stores and the Hydroponic Supply) were shut down. That’s since the last time I was there, about a year ago. I found my imagination scrambling to imagine what business I would run if the storefront was mine… a futurizing activity I haven’t partaken of in a while. I guess Nanaimo inspired me a little. I’ve always been a sucker for potential!

When we first arrived, Nate quickly involved us in a hike to some waterfalls with his buddies Jeremy and Griffin, and two other guys. These are the type of guys who are made out of elastic bands. They eat McDonalds. They skateboard and do backflips off of sandpiles. They can climb like monkies and fly like squirrels and recover from a hangover in the space of a couple of hours. In short, they were young, healthy, and fully capable of kicking my ass. I didn’t realize that I had something to prove, until I couldn’t prove anything…

Yeah. So the waterfalls? Lovely. One after another tumbling into each other in a deep, ferny, mossy, cool forest. Getting to them required navigating some goat paths and then rappelling down some steepish dirt paths, and THEN (to get to the bottom two waterfalls) rappelling down a rock face. I use the term “rappelling” in the loosest sense. What I mean is that there was some nasty old plastic rope with knots in it, tied around a tree at the top of the rock face, and I squealed and grunted all the way down, hoping to hell that if I fell that Nate would catch me (or that I wouldn’t kill him if I fell on him). I made it down. I was pumped full of adrenaline! I was awesome! I rewarded myself with a panty-and-bra dip in the frigid second-waterfall pool. The monkey boys scaled a rock face to the bottom pool. I took some pictures, waited and wandered a bit. Admired ferns. Then, slap, bang, time to go! One monkey up the rock face, two monkeys, three… and this little piggy stayed home.

I couldn’t do it. Could not. I tried with shoes and without. I tried to find another path. I tried with Nathan below, trying to hoist my bountiful booty up, up, up… Couldn’t do it. The monkeys were gone, long gone. Just me and Nathan, stuck at Waterfall Two. What if we were stuck there forever? What if a bear could smell my fear and decided to come and eat me?

Thank goodness Nate stayed with me to find a solution. We ended up traversing up the mossy ferny pitch to our immediate right, pulling ourselves nearly on our stomachs through the brambles and snails. I had dirt in my panties. I had spiders in my bra. But I wanted to live, I wanted to escape!

The monkeys came back, hooting “HALOOOoooo” through the woods until the located us from a vantage point above, and directed us the last bit of the way up to the path. They had all gone all the way back to the cars before they realized that we weren’t ahead of them. Or behind them.

Getting back to the cars was satisfying, a victory. I didn’t prove anything to anybody but myself—and that is, that I can survive. Ha! Take that, imaginary bears! You didn’t eat me, after all!

The rest of the weekend was fun, if less death-defying (by my standards). We saw “Dark Knight” and slept on a futon. I visited Jess and Ryan in Courtenay, and built sandcastles (or one big sand mound, really) with Colin and Anna-Maria’s kids. I found a starfish and hermit crabs and a very interesting baby sea-slug. (fluorescent orange boobily-tendril body with neon-blue antennae—like a crawling anemone). I smiled into the sun. I took pictures of the ocean.

It’s weird to me how our ‘long weekends’ are just big party weekends, with no common purpose. You can go camping or hiking, boozing, cruising or snoozing. There’s no real guideline for how a Canadian holiday MUST be celebrated. (Other than Canada Day, which means wearing red and white and having flags painted on your cheeks and watching fireworks). I think it’s nice, the autonomy to choose. I also think it’s sad, as we’re missing that “piece of a bigger pie” feeling that I got at hana-mi or hana-bi festivals in Japan.

Regardless. I had fun. And I survived!

2008-07-31T11:35:00.001-07:00

The long weekend is fast approaching, and I still haven’t decided what to do with it. Tamara and Brad have put together a cruise on Okanagan lake on a party barge, Nathan is going to Nanaimo to skate with his buddies, and I’ve been invited to an art show in Vancouver… choices, choices! I actually think that the party barge isn’t really an option for me at this point, as I’ll be up in the Okanagan for the following two weekends—and gas is killer these days, as we are all well aware.

Here are the things I probably ought to do: I’m still woefully behind in the completion of my webpage. I have a weird tax form thing that I got back in February that I don’t understand and haven’t really tried to. I haven’t given my bank information to the institution that has set up an RRSP plan for me—the money won’t start being saved until I do. I still need to get tax information to the Canadian government for the period that I lived in Japan. I haven’t been spending enough time painting or drawing or creating for months now… I still need to clear up some last minute things for my parent’s party—phone a few more people, arrange a few more surprises and reservations et al.

Bleah.

2008-07-30T09:19:00.004-07:00

The beach was sweet on monday evening; high tide though, so we plopped on the grass to the side of the pedestrian walkway, next to the sculpture that looks like a giant piece of female anatomy. (I can't resist crawling through it everytime I see it, shouting "I'M BEING BORN! I'M BEING BORN!"... weird, yes. But oddly fun.)

We ate smoked oysters and smoked salmon and a kind of spinach-tofu pate that I dreamed up; Okanagan cherries and peanut butter and banana sandwiches. It was seriously the best dinner I've had in a while. Eating outdoors does that-- makes everything taste better.

White Rock has just enough people to make me feel as though I am SOMEWHERE, and just enough tacky-touristyness to make me wish that I was somewhere else, somewhere a little more cosmopolitan. I know Nate is still pushing hard to move to the island. He'd love to be closer to his Speedboarding team and the good hills that Nanaimo has to offer. Paranoid though I may be, the rising cost of fuel makes a move to any island a little suspect to me. What if we get stuck? What if the mainland decides to stop bringing supplies? Besides-- what's in Nanaimo for me?

Why don't I feel AT HOME anywhere?

2008-07-28T16:00:00.002-07:00

If you're a person who talks to my mom, don't tell her what you've read here. PROMISE. I'm still madly planning for her and dad's big surprise 40th anniversary party... it's going all right. Luckily my brother is pretty helpful. Amazing how well we get along, now that we don't have He-Man dolls and Transformer toys to fight over. Or Barbies... did I mention that Sandy had his very own Barbie? Her name was Cindy.

Anyway, if I've forgotten to invite you, don't be sad, just call or email and tell me you'd like to come, and I'll fill you in on the details. As long as you promise to bring some booze, I'm sure I can get you an invite, exclusive though this shindig is. ;) If my mom asks, tell her you don't know what she's talking about. Tell her she's crazy.

Nate and I are going to go have a picnic in White Rock, so I better shake a tail and get outta here. What am I still doing at work anyway?

Namaste

2008-07-24T09:19:00.001-07:00

Kid at work shot a nail through his finger about ½ an hour ago, securing his hand to a pallet… Randy had to get the circular saw to cut him free, and off he went in the ambulance, chunk of pallet still attached. Yikes.

Needless to say everything here kind of ground to a halt; I was in the middle of orientation with the new girl when they brought him through the office. Not surprisingly, we had just covered the part of the training that involved safety, and I rattled through the bit about not pulling a nail out of yourself if you got shot. I can be laissez-faire enough when I describe the safety rules, but to actually witness it is another story. Again, Yikes I say.

Yeah, I still work at a pallet factory, in the office. I finally signed my position contracts yesterday, and I am now more clearly defined. Now I am no longer just an ‘Office Worker’—I am an ‘Executive Assistant’/’Research and Development Associate’. Today is my one-year anniversary of working here. It is also my dish-day.

I’ve written manuals, found obscure phone numbers on the magical internet, composed training checklists, developed systems for increased employee retention and better recruitment, and listened to a lot of raunchy stories from Sarah. I have made databases and newspaper ads and technical drawings of pallets. I have fielded calls and drawn up quotes. I have not built a single pallet, and luckily have never shot myself with a nail gun. It has been an interesting year.

I wonder where I’ll be, and what I’ll be learning this time next year?

2008-07-16T15:40:00.001-07:00

Last week I went to a counseling session so that I can start figuring out a clear career path.

It was so unbelievably good. I have another one tonight, and I’m stoked! Gerry’s a pretty enthusiastic character, and he pinpointed me immediately as someone who already has the skill-set for anything— but my interests don’t necessarily match up to my skills (or to my job). That’s probably the result of school—I learned how school is designed to make everyone a little bit good at EVERYTHING rather than focusing on the talents and the passions of the students. And I was a great student—great at everything. Which equals success for the schools—they produced a nice, well-rounded, average citizen who can fit in any niche. But for me... I don’t WANT to be average. So what if I can fit in anywhere? Just because I am capable of flipping burgers at McD's doesn't mean it's going to turn my crank.

I just need to be pointed in the direction that will fully utilize my interests, skills, passions, et al. Gerry said, “You’re someone that just needs some winding up, and then you’ll just GO!” Yep.

Another good little example that Gerry gave me about how the school system fails us—say you have a kid. He brings home his report card. He has an A in English, another A in Social Studies, a C in Biology and an F in Algebra… what do you, as a parent, focus on? I said the C in Biology, because at least I can help with that (I’m hopeless at Math)—but I guess that most people would focus on the F, right? That’s the school-system answer. The truth is you want to focus on the A’s, because wherever someone excels is where their interests lie. You look a little bit at the F to get it up to a C, but you leave the C alone—a C is good enough, the kid is getting by, but he’s not showing any desire to be a biologist… no big deal.

I wish I knew this before, years ago. I could have been so much more forgiving towards myself for not getting an A in everything. The nice thing is that I can now take my own interests and values a little more seriously; I can put a little less emphasis on ‘making it work’ and ‘getting by’ and a little more energy into living passionately and truthfully. Sounds good, doesn’t it?

2008-07-11T15:53:00.002-07:00

Is it summer yet?

I think so. I've had some good adventures; Corrin and I went back up to Kaleden/Penticton a couple of weekends ago and pretty much just relaxed. That meant: shopping at a fruit stand, lazing on the beach, sitting on the lawn drinking a bottle of wine watching the stars come out and the deer go by... (and the rowdy gang of boys go by too-- gotta do something with that teenage energy!) It was good to reconnect with her and for both of us to remind ourselves why our friendship is so enduring. It's good to have someone you can just say anything to, with the risk of judgement or misunderstanding.

I'm actually quite blessed, in the friend department!

I always want more days like that-- more dreamy dusks and sweetly scented mornings; I love the sound of the lake and the smell of the dry air and wild baby's breath-- hell, I even love the familiar grating sound of those horrible grebes singing their squawking love song (why can't Skaha lake have loons?).

I don't know what this weekend will bring. Nate and I celebrated his 22nd birthday yesterday by going to Midori Sushi in Abbotsford and getting food poisoning, so maybe we can make up for it by going camping or something. I just kind of want to get off of the map for a while...

2008-06-23T13:12:00.001-07:00

My weekend? I cleaned. I moved furniture and polished faucets and washed forty-seven-thousand loads of socks; I was a whirling frenzy of airborne dust-fluffs, wearing a crown of dead spiders and a shirt made of stray hair and dryer lint. I bleached and scrubbed and wiped and sanitized. The funny thing is I still don’t feel like I was finished; there are still cluttered closets, manky corners in the fridge, piles of shoes…

Why is there always such disparity between what was accomplished and the feeling of accomplishment? This 21st Century lifestyle seems well-suited to a Type-A Multi-Tasking Madwoman… which very few of us actually are. Thank goodness I don’t have children yet! And what does ‘living simply’ actually entail? I find that now that I’ve cut wheat and dairy (and a lot of meat) from my diet, eating has become a challenge. It’s good; I’m eating more fresh fruits and veggies, thereby creating less waste and less impact on the earth in general. I suppose that living simply doesn’t always equate to living easily. I also propose that the less “stuff” I have, the more easy my so-called simple life will be.

I’ve already changed the way I’m doing things due to the astronomical gas prices. I ride my bike more, walk, take the bus, and don’t go anywhere that I don’t NEED to go to. I am of the opinion that these steepening gas prices are a good thing. In fact, living easily is probably the last thing we need more of. My generation (X/Y) has been challenged very little and has known very little lack; there’s nothing like a recession to shock a society back into reality. Fact: North Americans are (by and large) GREEDY. Self-Obsessed. Shallow. These qualities don’t make us good world citizens. The high gas prices and high food prices might just be the smack across the nose we’ve been asking for.

Whew.

2008-06-20T14:01:00.002-07:00

Nathan is off to the races this weekend—that crazy, crazy Vernon DH. Good luck Nate! I hope you don’t come back all broken in little bits! Those insane speedboarders, I tell you…

Me, I have no particular plans, thank goodness. Sarah wants to launch a cleaning attack on her chaotic condo this weekend. Sarah's been living at her parents house since her breakup, and the condo has been pretty much empty. Her ex was going to buy her out, but he's decided that Aldergrove isn't really where he wants to be. Sarah doesn’t really want to leave the housing market if she can avoid it anyway, so she’ll buy him out instead. We went by there last week to pick up Ivy, Sarah’s cat… the cats had pretty much been left to their own devices since her ex moved in with his new girlfriend. From the looks (and the smell) of the place, her ex didn’t really want the place anyway. Ivy sure was happy to get out of there! I carried her out of the condo and held her in my arms for the whole drive; she cried a little, but she never once dug her claws in or freaked out. As for the other cat, the new girlfriend came by to pick her up later that same day, so at least the kitty wasn’t left by herself for too long.

Sunday I’ll don my gas mask and rubber gloves and help Sarah give the place a major disinfecting.

Tomorrow… I’m not even going to say what it is I want to do. I’ll just let the day unfold naturally. Here’s hoping for some sunshine and pleasant times.

2008-06-18T09:29:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, Nate and I tripped up to the Okanagan to scope it out, and to enjoy my mom and dad’s empty house. (Supposedly they’ll have moved back into it by the end of the month… but packing seems to be progressing slo—wly).

We drove up after work on Friday, and arrived around 9pm—we were shortly thereafter joined by my brother and our childhood neighbor, Brad Cook. They arrived with beer, rum, and a desire to start a fire in the outdoor pit. Before long, Brad (a self-proclaimed rapper) was laying down the phat tracks—“Yo, yo, yo, I’m Bradley C. and I’m here hangin’ with Sandy and E-- we all be chillin’ ‘round the fi-re and I be laying the lines on the ____” He encouraged us all to freestyle with him—Sandy was pretty sauced and would sit stunned for a few moments too long before spitting out a rhyming word. It was hilarious. Brad puked a few times in mom’s garden, and I don’t remember doing anything but laughing.

The next day, Sandy woke Nate and I shockingly early with demands for breakfast—Brad couldn’t be roused. Sandy is like an angry baby crow when he is hungry—actually, he’s like an angry baby crow most of the time. We headed into Penticton for a White Spot brekkie—usually my favorite, but I keep on forgetting that it has been routinely disappointing lately; crappy coffee, and those dreaded soggy shred-style hash browns that always seem to be lukewarm. Minor grievances aside, it was nice hanging out with my brother and my guy, and having breakfast talk. We went to the farmer’s market and purchased a mish-mash of items; bison sausage, burdock, and fresh honey. The best part was bumping into old friends and neighbors, and recognizing familiar people. I found Greg McLean at the ‘Sacred Sun Body Art’ booth—I worked for him and his wife one summer travelling around to different events and fairs doing henna ‘tattoos’. It was neat seeing him again; he even let me take up my old tools and do a wicked pin-up girl in henna on my brother’s arm. It proved very popular throughout the day, though Sandy did get the seedy eye from a small group of disapproving ladies at the market.

Later, there was to be a big 35th anniversary party at Bob and Kerrel Lincoln’s house—something I would have known about sooner if I hadn’t dropped off of Facebook. (My brother is still disgusted with me for doing so—“what, are you too cool for Facebook?”) Still pooped from the night before, we decided to preface the party with a nap and a visit to Tickleberry’s for an ice-cream cone. I opted for lemon sorbet, and Nate got my fave from last year, a horribly bright ice cream called ‘Play-dough’. Sounds gross, but it’s cherry-banana-blueberry. Yum. The murals I painted still look great; I’m so glad I investigated the colourfastness of all the paints I used, and only bought the best. We inspected the T-Shirts they have put out with my artwork this year—they’re very cute, and are already proving to be big sellers! I felt quite satisfied, and not a little pride for my small-town fame. I’ve had more than my allotted 15 minutes, lucky me! (take that, Andy Warhol!)

We eventually met up with Sandy back at the house and decided to walk up through Kaleden to the Lincoln’s house to bypass any chance of any drunk driving. When we got there I was attacked by a barrage of huggers—great! It was fun to see my old schoolmates and the ‘Kaleden parents’ whooping it up together. The party was neat; it started out sweet and mellow, and progressed to saucy and wild. Bob Lincoln is well-known for the potency of his home-made wine, so I wasn’t surprised to hear about the table-dancing and other highjinx that went on after Nate and I headed home early…

We had breakfast out again the next morning, with Tamara, Brad, Josh, Sonia, Cindy and Cassie. We got to meet Tam and Brad’s new puppy, Ivy… what a cutie! (But seriously—who doesn’t like puppies?) I heard far more about what I missed after Nate and I left the party—I think I’m glad I left! The farther away I stay from trouble, the less of it I get into! Nate and I cruised Penticton after breakfast, and he bombed Carmi on his longboard—that was probably the most scared I’ve been for him while I’ve been following him and spotting for him—how much good am I in a car behind him on a blind hairpin corner? Yikes. He’s crazy. I can’t beat him, but sometimes I don’t know if I want to join him, either. He’ll be up in Vernon next weekend for the DH event there.

It was sunny and breezy and beautiful for the entire weekend—the landscape is relatively unchanged from my childhood, with the exception of more houses being built across the lake from us (more lights on the hillside at night) and the evidence of the pine beetle scourge. Sandy estimates that within the next five years, the majority of the ponderosa pines will be toast.

Anyway, lots of fun was had by all; good to stomp the hometown ground once in a while.

2008-06-10T14:11:00.003-07:00

I figured something out today. The less it takes to "make your day," the happier you're likely to be on a daily basis. I'm not saying don't have high expectations-- I'm saying that the higher your expectations are, the higher your level of enthusiasm needs to be.

Let 'what makes you happy' be as simple as dew on grass.

Things that make me happy:

Dew on grass
Snails (both the kinds on sidewalks and the kinds you eat)
Seeing old friends
Hand-written letters
Laughing kids
Chocolate tofu pie (ask me for the recipe!!)
Good dreams
A friendly voice on the phone at work
Sunshine
Shade
Green green bushy grassy early summer

...be happy!

2008-06-06T15:26:00.001-07:00

Which sites we surf sort of become like the stores we would have visited back in the day when you actually had to go downtown to do your shopping… only there’s no friendly clerk in the stores. The internet is weird. It gives us these illusions of interconnectedness and accomplishment.

Not that we’re not connected by the internet, and not that we don’t accomplish meaningful things online. But the humanity is dimmed and distorted; layers of courtesy and propriety are peeled back until everyone is a dancing set of sex organs and bones. It’s rude and raw, and beautiful, but it has its’ own reality—I hate to see us all forsaking a sense of real community, and solid human interrelation.

Go hug your mom.

2008-06-05T12:00:00.002-07:00

Work is good lately. I don't talk about work a lot, because it seems to be where I focus a different kind of energy; something organizational, very left-brained. It's certainly different than what I might have expected for myself several years ago-- before I couldn't imagine myself NOT in a place where creative chaos was the reigning mode operand. I do like my current job, as I am immersed in a daily opportunity to stretch out and build up aspects of my personality that were previously dim or non-existent. It's the adolescence of my career life; the learning curve is significant.

My parents are in Mexico now... I am amazingly envious! Mexico is not my first choice for 'warm places to go', but when you're wearing fuzzy winter socks to bed in JUNE... something is not right here. I don't like this soggy cold grey nonsense-- it makes me miss Japan too much, and itch to travel when I really don't have the resources (nor time, nor rhyme, nor reason) to do so. Sarah and I have a goal of getting the office ticking like clockwork, so that if either one of us wanted to travel, it would be an easy-breezy thing. Sounds delicious, if not promptly feasible. I wonder if Mom and Dad will bring me a present?

Greedy me.

Last weekend Nate and I went to Kenmore, WA (USA) for a koi auction. We got there late, so didn't get to participate in the auction, although there were some amazingly beautiful fish up for grabs. They were mostly imports from-- (correct me if I'm wrong) Sakamoto of Hiroshima. Nate had to have some real Japanese fish to add to our international family. Unfortunately, we had to shop retail after the auction ended. Nate dropped 150$ on two koi, a feisty Sanke that we named Nozomu, and a funny Kouhaku that I named Zuma-- she has an inazuma or 'lightening' pattern in red along her spine. The fish are reeeally expensive when you factor in the $50 in gas and the $80 fee paid to the DFO inspections guy... not mention all the food the ravenous beasts slurp down. Nate's obsession with these fish sometimes give me the impression that he loves the little slimers more than me. They are pretty, but I still have issues with having a 200 gallon pond in our living room. It's so noisy...

2008-06-03T10:56:00.001-07:00

Cancer seems to be claiming a lot of victims lately. Probably no more or less than it usually does, but when it’s hitting the people I know and love, all within a short period of time, it seems to be a more significantly malevolent force than usual.

Goodbye Ernie. What will Gerrie do without you? I remember sitting with you at Donna’s kitchen table, around Easter time last year. Your cancer clinic was closed for the Easter holiday, and so they kicked you out for the duration. Too wracked from chemo to go home, you hunkered down at Ken and Donna’s house, sleeping on the couch when you weren’t sleeping on the bed, always exhausted, never hungry, your skin thin and loose and grey. Donna had made some banana bread, and left it on the table for us, mostly hoping that you would eat something. I made some tea, and I asked you about how you met Donna’s sister, Gerrie. You smiled then; your whole being warmed up when you told me the story. Friends for years, you first met when you were working at the bar that Gerrie frequented. She went through one asshole husband, and then another, and eventually you found each other again, and ventured beyond friendship. You were great together.

Gone: Just a few months ago, my cousin Simone, the beautiful, hilarious, sparkling light of her family.
Just yesterday, Elaina, only five years old. What must her young mother be going through?

Fighting: Our family friend George, wonderful, warm and funny man—I always think of him with his eyes crinkled up and sparkling with laughter.
Gabrielle’s niece, who only recently moved to Ontario to be with the love of her life. She’s only two years older than me…

All I can do is send love, all of my love, and all of my hope. This world deals out wicked shit sometimes.

Cancer sucks.

2008-05-30T14:27:00.000-07:00

I’ve been taking a lot of paperclips home in my hair. And pens. I could probably furnish an office pretty nicely with what I have inadvertently been stealing from work. I think I need a haircut. Also, I need to return some pens.

I decided to go see a naturopath, not because I felt particularly crappy, but because I wanted to bolster and support the good health I have now, before I don’t have it anymore; you know, be PROactive with my healthcare as opposed to REactive. The decision was made easy, as my Chiropractor operates out of a Health Arts clinic—so, should I want to try acupuncture or iridology, or have a hot river stone massage (and you can bet that I have)… it’s all right in one place. Dr. F is a new addition, the first naturopath on staff. He is hilarious—he shares my gently whacked sense of humor. We found some problems that I hadn’t previously considered problems, mostly because I’ve lived with them for so long—things like regular headaches, gas, bloating (and I’m putting this info out there because…?) Initially we decided to cut back my coffee intake, and reconsider the simple carbs I’ve been putting away. Now, after the second visit, wheat and dairy are off of my ‘edibles’ list for a month, and I have three concoctions to consume daily, the worst of which is Dr. F’s ‘tincture’ to support the processing of hormones and liver function, etc, etc. Oh, this is a foul concoction of nasty burning evil plant extracts, in a harsh base of pure fiery alcohol- there’s no chance of dripping it in the back of my throat and swallowing without noticing. Oh, gag, gag, gag. Nasty smoldering sickening grossness.

Other than that, I can’t complain. Two days, and I’ve survived thus far; hopefully the bounding good health, high energy, bright eyes and glossy coat will come within the next couple of weeks. Aren’t I lucky to live in a time and a place where I have the option of supporting health rather than battling illness? I will always be grateful for these bountiful and colourful good years of my life.

Namaste.

2008-05-26T14:04:00.002-07:00

It has actually been a profundly busy few weeks, a busy month. Love it!

This past Saturday, Sarah and I went on the Skytrain into Vancouver and did a walking tour; we met a variety of characters, and I got to practice my Japanese with some students of The Good English on the train. Sarah noticed how my gestures reverted to 'Japanese style'-- unecessary awkward giggling, and clasping my hand over my mouth when I was feeling uncertain. We walked into Stanley Park, across to Kits Beach, down Davies, up Robson, and into the Greek Taverna that I sometimes go to with my Dad-- but to our great good luck, it was Bellydancing night, and we caught a bit of the show as we slowly downed out pitcher of sangria. I should say I slowly downed the pitcher of Sangria-- Sarah is allergic to alcohol and only drank about a glass-and-a-half! Highlights:

1) Japanese practice with Natsui
2) Meeting Wendy in the Artist's circle in Stanley Park (see http://www.wendysmillionaires.com)
2.5) Meeting lovely vacationing Mexican ladies in the line-up for the girls' potty... I knew Vancouverites vacationed in Mexico, but I wasn't aware that it happened the other way around!
3) Getting stung by angry somethings near the swings (actually, not such a highlight)
4) Having a 'moment' with a gorgeous seal at the Vancouver Aquarium- she looked me in the eye!
5) A ride on the minuature train and smelling the good smalls of the warming summery park
6) Finding secret passageways busting with blooming rhododendrons to Kits Beach
7) Finding Kits Beach busting with warming summery people
8) Beautiful boys on Davies Street (for looking at only, dontcha know!)
9) The Japanese Combini on Robson... mmm! Mochi-mochi!
10) Sangria! Bellydancers! Calimari! Laughing our asses off!
11) Eating the previously purchased Mochi on the steps of the art gallery, people watching, and getting offered ecstasy and acid...
"I'm happy enough as it is," I said.
"Wouldn't you like to be even happier?" asked the dealer.
"I don't know if that would be safe!" I answered. This beautiful life is drug enough for me, methinks.
12) Back on the Skytrain heading home, a good-looking home-boy told Sarah she was gorgeous. Her elation lifted me, too. She is gorgeous after all, and every girl loves to hear it.

A dozen shiny pieces of Saturday! Live it up, folks... the summer is short, but it's yours if you grab it!

2008-05-22T14:09:00.005-07:00

One of the huge reasons I want to walk/bike to work is because of the connection I get to the rotation of the seasons-- it's not something that you can really absorb from the seat of a car. I went outside during my lunch break today, and happened to notice that we have gone from the 'season of the profusion of dandelions' to the 'season of the blossoming of buttercups'. The apple blossoms and magnolias have fallen; the dogwood is bursting in pink and white. I see these things, but I don't soak them up and metabolize them the way I might if I worked or travelled outdoors more often.

I remember Bubu saying something about there being—what—28 or 32 or 36 (or more?) seasons in Japan, dependant upon what there was blossoming (and no doubt based upon what was good to eat—what a foodie culture!). I know it has got to be the same here, and I keep on having the feeling that I’m missing them somehow. It’s the same feeling I get when I see a trailer for a movie that I want to see, over and over—and somehow I magically manage to completely miss the movie in the theatre (and to be honest, half the time I miss them in the rental store ten years down the line. Does anyone know where I can rent ‘Almost Famous’? I really want to see it...).
So, the question is—am I missing out because I’m procrastinating? Or because I’m not focusing? Or is it simply because I am ‘home’ and I am subconsciously taking the magic of Western Canadian seasonal shift for granted?

I really want to move to another country again, and teach more English. I do. I’m not sure if it’s in the cards, though. I read today (on my Dalai Lama’s ‘Quote of the Day’ calendar) that you are only successful insofar as the sacrifices you had to make to get your success. So if I selfishly ditch a fabulous relationship to traipse around the world in a singularly absorbent fashion, I have made a sacrifice for my so-called ‘success’ which does not exactly validate said ‘success’. But if my purpose in life is to absorb the juices of the world, up close and in-person—then is the greater sacrifice in staying put?

I need to talk with Nate about all of this—in fact, I’m sure I have. I stress him out, being so wishy-washy. I think he’s more of a homebody. He wants his garden, workshop, koi pond, friends, and hills to skateboard on. He’s very clear about his likes and dislikes and desires. I wish I could be more like him.

2008-05-22T11:51:00.003-07:00

Today is Kurosuke's last day on the roads of the Lower Mainland. Kurosuke is my delicious beast of a car, a 1981 Oldsmobile County Cruiser Station Wagon. She's jet black, with a propensity to drink gasoline like a rugby player with a beer-bong. The ominous beginning of her end came a couple of months ago when some idiot-- pardon me-- some careless citizen gave her a huge dent, via hit-and-run. Ahhh, but it's just cosmetic. She still runs like a dream, but the GRVD won't have her; thirsty, fume-emitting animal that she is. So-- Happy Birthday Dad! Now that you are 60, you need a cool black car to cruise the strip in. Kurosuke is going to live the wild life in Kaleden, soaking up the Okanagan sun.

As for me-- tonight I finalize a purchase. I am getting a little red four-door '94 Chevy Cavalier. I was bent on buying Japanese, but it's just not in the budget (or on the market).

What I really think would be best (for the environment, mental clarity, and my expanding booty) would be if I kept up walking and riding my bike...

2008-05-05T14:12:00.002-07:00

Coffee breaks aren't really coffee breaks anymore; not for me. They are little slits of time that I can jam my own dreams and plans and doings into. Jam, jam, jam! The more I do, the more I'll get, right? I read that in my horoscope for this year: "The harder you work, the luckier you'll be." Makes sense. I was kind of rocking back on my heels before, waiting for the universe to hand me my gold stars. Now it's clear that I have to go out and earn those gold stars-- being a nice person, and having high hopes-- that's only two-thirds of the equation. Now I have to decide:

What kind of "lucky" do I want to get?

2008-04-19T13:53:00.002-07:00

Nathan is taking a test, and I am probing the accessibility of my future (it's looking good, this is supposed to be Capricorn's Big Year-- hooray!). I am back in the Kwantlen Library Computer Room, scoping out the CELTA courses, locations, and the related Expedia costs to fly to said locations. I am planning my future career as a 'REAL' English Teacher. I am going to do this! An aside-- there is a woman who has been here since well before I arrived. She is sitting opposite me, to my left. Her age is indeterminate, she wears a coral flower-patterned Cotton Ginny Plus shirt with a kelly-green windbreaker. She is watching Coronation Street (I caught a glimpse as I went by to the washroom) and she occasionally utters comments on what she is watching... LOUDLY. Most recently, she said "I DON'T TRUST HIM. HE'S A PSYCHOPATH." and before that, 'THEY JUST HAD SEX TOGETHER." Funny, yes. But I am the only other person in this big room, and there is no-one I can make eye-contact with and share the giggle with. Consider the giggle shared, dear reader!

For the record, Lady K (why can I no longer post comments on your blog? Too many stalkers?) I have nothing against people who put slashes through their sevens. I just don't like the sevens themselves. I love graphology... it's fascinating. I would love to have my hand-writing analyzed. I wonder what they would find out about me? "Hmmm, you appear to be a bossy grammar-queen, with a tendency towards..." Tendency towards what, I can't decide. I'll leave to my future graphologist's discretion.

Another funny thing about this library computer room. I have twice tucked my leg under my chair, forgetting about the hydraulic switch-- which my leg triggers, sending me sinking swiftly and shockingly until my chin is on the keyboard... Coronation Street Lady is probably writing in HER blog about it.

We stopped by OPUS before coming here and bought a big jar of titanium white acrylic, and a block of soapstone, and a cheapie carving kit. I saw my old coworkers Ayesha and Colin and was surprised to learn that they both read my blog when I was in Japan... how cool is that? Very cool. I've quit facebook-- it's just too socially weird. It's like letting everyone in your high school yearbook look in your underwear drawer. Of course, when I told my mom this, she was trying to figure out why the blogging is OK, but the facebooking isn't... I suppose it's because I have more of a hand in crafting this blog. It's cleaner, more controlled. What I want you to see, I show you. What I don't want you to see-- well, it's not like someone here can tag me in photo in this blog. Anyway, it's one less thing to waste my time with. I might use it as a marketing tool later, we'll see. Speaking of which... SOON I will have a website! I'm quite tickled about this, and have been working with Amy and Christie of FRESH MARKETING in Fort Langley-- brilliant girls. I love their work, and their enthusiasm. Finally I'll be able to show my artwork and sell it online. It's been a long time coming.

Anyway, I'm done in here. I'm going to go sit in the car and try to release Buddha out of that bit of soapstone.