I follow my heart

just found this artist named Marcy Starz on the interweb. See the above, please.
So weird shit happening on the home front. I got Sarah a job at my work, 'cept when she showed up for the "interview" yesterday Marketa came down from a bath in one of the rooms in a towel and nothing else and Sarah was standing laughing in the kitchen while Cliff the non-stop talking boyfriend was telling her about the music biz.
Also last night while drinking raspberry ale and blues dancing at Swans I discovered that they have some of my mum's ex-husbands art hanging on the wall. And of course it happens to be really good too.
And Laura! By god! that is the coolest picture I have seen in a long time. The dinosaur party was a minor failure, except that this girl I work with came and brought her hilarious boyfriend and polenta with jerk sauce, by golly. And then all these actor types showed up, ate our pizza, then left for drunken pastures.
Anyway. Got my registration date! The super-nerd inside me is rearing her greasy string hair. Also Madeleine Dwyer (daughter of Phil, doncha know) is asleeping it off on the flour in the living room. Might go in there and casually bang some pots together. I badly need a cup of tea.

Photo of the day? I think so!

This is my soil sampling buddy Craig with the caribou antlers we found today. Intense, huh?

First full day of work, and it was a good one. The helicopter dropped us off in what was was honestly the middle of nowhere, and we stumbled off to mark 50m lengths along a predetermined grid line. It was the first time I had seriously done sampling, and Craig's third, so we marked off the wrong co-ordinates and blundered along until the end of the day. Tomorrow we'll be on our own, so that will be a blast. I would not be surprised to find myself on some unnamed ridge kilometers from the designated chopper pad because I cannot read a map and am generally stupid when it comes to numbers and directions. Somewhere, God is laughing Himself silly at my complete lack of suitability for this job.

But life, right now, is amazing. Everyone is outdoorsy and intense and have fantastic stories. Our supervisor (for a couple more days) has a wild beard and hair and smokes a lot of pot and is constantly working and spends time in the field before flying off to high-powered executive meetings in New York and San Diego.

Know what's a little strange, though? Everyone I've met so far, be they 19 or 29, seem to be in seriously committed relationships. It's weird. And a little lonely. That excludes my roommate Laura, but she took off a few nights ago and came back at 4 in the morning severely hungover and wearing a firefighter's pants. This morning "We have your pants" was written in the mud on the back of our truck. She just shrugged and laughed.

All this, and I have so many more stories. My fingers will just not stop moving, but it's bedtime in the land of the midnight sun. Take care. How was the dinosaur party?

"salsa dancing to french swing? " quote of the day

"i dont think my girlfriend is a puppy though
i think she is just very affectionate
and I like that" -Go

Hahahahhahahahah

Link of the day? let's learn Luo!

http://economics.ozier.com/language/dholuo.html

" and legend told us that the north america was once supported by a giant turtle- but scientists later proved that wrong"

Mortimer, you might just be a sponge and soaked up the name dropping skills. Which is cool, some names sound alright. That Chezick girl sounds a-ma-zing.

Yesterday I went to Vancouver, and ate mediocre poutine on the way back. We played at an overcrowded venue of children running around, and acting crazy, and the fact that granville only had a one way road, made the day even more of a difficult time. We got lost (like any good group of 5 girls from the island would be in the big city) and decided against busking by the art gallery because of potential rains. Instead three voted against one, to stay witness the hustle and bustle of the canucks first game of the stanley cup final. We saw green men, we saw announcers dressed to impressed and posters of Don Cherry and how we could get pictures with him for a small fee at some hotel. I finally went to and tasted the best cheese cake in vancouver (self voted: alright) and then ended the day with 2 hours in traffic.

Tonight, I'm resting back and taking a breather and wondering the important things in life. Like if India's indians use the bulb of the fennel plant? I've never really seen it in their dishes, but the seed, used as a spice and a sweet treat (i'm currently eating sugar coated fennel seeds) are as common as the air we breath. I need an expert on this.

p.s! the picture above is of a grave in transylvania, nuts huh?

hot water bleeding our colours

Just got back from a more awkward day at work than i could ever expect. I thought last summer- balancing the inventory while my boss in the next room loudly discussed my good friend's mental health over the telephone- was bad. Well today folks, I found my boss' (different one) panties between the sheets of a bed I was changing, as well as a used condom in the garbage. Little bit too intimate, don't you think? No kidding. Her man is in town (actually it seems like he is only in town to take advantage of his girlfriends b and b, made himself right at home, didn't he?) to talk business with fellow music pros who happen to look like street people but speak like Simon Cowell. Today while planted in the dining room he started name dropping like the fucking blitzkrieg. Michael Jackson's estate this and Bruno Mars' cousin that. And then my co-worker retaliated: apparently her mum's boyfriend invented paypal (whaaaaaaaa?) This is the same girl who's boyfriend is 17 years older than her, who smokes like a fish and swears like Sarah Chezick.
Anyway hate to talk about my job so much. If I ever did anything else I might talk about that. We're having a dinosaur themed art party on Saturday. I'll keep yis posted

It`s the new way to see

Hey. M here.
I keep up this internal dialogue all day of things to write up and down this page, `cept now it`s crunch time and my sane thoughts have slipped out the back door for a ciggie.
This couple is at the bedandbreakfast for a week- their honeymoon- right now and they are the most awkward. I feel like they are secretly Amish or something. They are terrified of relaxation. And they do not even speak to each other. I took their breakfast orders this morning and they looked like I was mugging them. I put her pancakes down in front of her and she literally cringed. Anyway. Maybe I am bitter because I need excessive amounts of appreciation at all times.
And Timber Timbre was great thanks. except I sat right behind some big headed guy and couldn`t really see anything except the violinist. And the opener was playing their first show since they graduated the garage (I`m sorry that was rude...)

All those words I should have said

Yesterday, I kayaked to my neighbours' house and spent another four hours picking up sticks. But it was wicked sunny and a burn extends over my back and down both shoulders, making sleeping and showering uncomfortable. Then the guy who hired me asked if I wanted to take a spin on his 1973 Honda motorbike, which was nice, but I couldn't work the clutch and ended up pushing it down the driveway with my feet like a tricycle. And then it fell on me.

Today, my throat is swollen and I'm stuffed up, crouched over in front of the computer eating cheese. Over and out.

You Blew It

I slept until noon today. That never happens. Not sure which animal hibernates in the summer but I am becoming it. I seem to have earned brownie points at work because my boss pulled me out mid-toilet scrub to show me pictures on the internet of her new boyfriend (music producer C-Dawg, kid you not) Later she traveled up the steep flight of stairs to inform me that her allergies were acting up and could I please climb onto the bed and wipe those cob-webs off the roof. I think she is lonely.

Also went to that party at this other girl's house. I happened to sit at the end of the table with the pretentious kids- one minute reciting Shakespeare, the next talking about Stanley Kubrick's Lolita. And then Bernard, next to me tells me he works at a bike shop and that he has "oft compared a woman to a bicycle" (here I snorted and held back the dirty jokes...) And "I wrote this poem..." at which point he was distracted and I made a get away. I am serious, these were the worst dressed hip-kids I have seen.

But! I am going to buy a ticket for tomorrow night's Timber Timbre show. Listen!