and your little heart starts to go boom-boom

Funny Chez. I picked up that Orwell book in a store today because the cover was neat. Also talked to my parents who ALSO survived the storm with bbq (and wood stove, and probably a bath tub filled up just in case) and candles. Remember in grade 10 when the power was out in Coombs for at least a week and Jossy had to shower in the change room at school? My dad was commenting on how Jennifer or Shirley's house up the block still had power. And we laughed at him for mixing up the names Jennifer and Shirley.

And then he told us about this apprentice he used to have who always got into fights. One time he came to work with a broken hand from punching someone in the head. I remember this kid from when he was in elementary school with my bro. He was scrawny and had a lisp- obviously started over compensating. Anyway, now he works in Dawson Creek, which brought up a whole new conversation. My dad says he is growing a Guy Fawkes stache.
Last night I got tipsy off of two glasses of wine but I had no one to talk to so I watched Adaptation staring Nicolas Cage as Charlie and his twin brother Donald. I have never been so repulsed than to hear Donald make a reference to "pushing in the bush" and swivel his womanly hips suggestively. Recommended.

Too dressed up for YOUR MOM

I don't know who the guy is in this photo, but I really love that sky. Photo cred to Taylor.

Having snagged a cozy cubicle in the library, I'm just watching people straggle in with desperate faces and book lists, attempting to salvage something of their wasted Reading Break. Or maybe that's just me.

Last night I had the craziest dream, featuring prison time, running from the law, road blockades, underground houses, boys with white, painted faces, and a roommate who generously agreed to hide us. When my alarm went off, I realized that my blankets had been thrown clear across the room, and felt...dissatisfied, somehow. Almost as if there was an underlying message that I hadn't quite been able to grasp. But it was probably just the pizza before bedtime.

Yesterday morning was mostly spent in a small art store, re-framing some water damaged paintings with the help of a soft-spoken fellow named Rob? Andy? Anyway, a whole bunch of people came trouping in, each of them with 5-6 paintings under their arms, clamoring for help. The rain was a-pouring down, and most of us looked like drowned rats. Cue the older, perfectly coiffed lady in a cream-coloured suit and silk scarf. "Please, everyone, respect my workplace. You are dripping water, and that is dangerous!" Anyway, my paintings look great, I have a newfound respect for the colour plum. And a special raw wood frame has been ordered to fit an acrylic piece depicting a storm over Lake Laberge; all that remains to be found is a suitable varnish.

Got to talk to the folks in Revelstoke last night. It was one of those conversations that had to be finished by e-mail, as his cell phone died midway and all the important stuff was left until the end. Anyway, a mid-February trip there is in the works, and the excitement is running high, even if it is a good 3 months away. We all need something to look forward to.

Sarah, have you read 1984? It's one of those books that is a pain to get through, but once you finish it, you recognize references EVERYWHERE, it's crazy. Orwell at his finest, or worst, depending on how much you enjoy depression.

Also, for the more general public, if you have not yet read Thomas King's green grass, running water, get on it.