Begonia Skies

My friend's room-mate is a physicist. His co-op job is collecting data and making graphs that contribute in small ways to finding the cure for cancer. His friend is a long haired computer programmer in a band called Cheesifer who's job is making apps for fancy cell phones. My friend is assistant curator at the Maltwood collections and spends her days packaging and hanging expensive artwork.

Last night over hot dogs and couscous we discussed whether or not we would consider transplanting our big toes onto our thumbs if they were to be removed (would you??) and the physicist explained what it was like to be colour blind- I reciprocated by defining Dada, which the science kids thought was data. It's funny how we could get along so well. Half the people I know are passionate about biology and the environment, the other half are completely irrational artist types with flair for not getting it. And yet we can sit in a backyard at dusk with the view of a small mountain and talk easily.

Tonight I am going to mingle with others in the "hospitality" business. My boss is set on finding me a little summer romance- I seem to be the only person she has ever met who is single. She almost choked on her iced white wine when I told her. This is going to be awkward for everyone.

i think i'm making friends

At First, Thought It Was Infatuation

I have no clue what time I'm suppose to meeting up for this street dance gig tomorrow night. Tomorrow morning, cman kurosh is off on a airplane out east. Which is to say the least super depressing. Nothing else really, I feel funny and I have to start getting serious I guess? Start being impressive? I swear I have to settle for something. Good news though, the cabbage plants are starting to pop up.

Velvet Arms

Laura you sound happy. Don't worry about losing my friendship- I have this thing where I can't hate anyone.
I'm drinking milk thistle tea. Recommend it for liver detox and regulating yer bowel movements. Also apparently it makes your skin soft.
Someone is keeping bees outside the Empress Hotel

And all the real gangsters dance like this

The internet in this house is way too slow. I'm sure that all of the guys are in their room downloading amusing movies and negatively affecting my connectivity.

Today was a meadow-y, sparse brush, 49 samples, ribs for dinner sort of day. A good day. And coming back to find Internet set up was even better. This morning, the airport was so boxed in by low-lying fog that our helicopter pilot had to land at a different location beside the highway, and we took off from there.

Today, I have been having panicky feelings about coming back to Victoria and having lost contact with friends. It's weird, and hopefully unfounded, but I can't help it. Take care out yourselves, ok?

Bed time. 5:30 comes too early these days.

Drunk Ass Dad

Today a complete stranger complemented me on my egg poaching skills. Apparently "it's tough poaching eggs but you nailed that shit." At Arden's house after work we made eggs benedict with avocado, garlicky spinach and pastrami. Damn. I keep hearing the troubled youth stories of my co-workers and wondering how my childhood could be so rose coloured. Two out of three have had abortions (both under 21, both with sunny personality) one abusive boyfriend, one suicide attempt, two stoner parents, one 35 year old boyfriend, one father in jail.

And yesterday sitting on the beach a sort-of-friend went on about how those with the right diet will never get cancer, and I sat there thinking of my mother who was a certified dietician, who had a perfect diet, active lifestyle a loving husband and two kids. Who died of stomach cancer. And one of the reasons why she did not recover was that while she should have been eating high calorie foods to get back her strength she stuck to the "right" diet and got weaker. Anyway he was pretty impressed with the things that he was saying so I didn't get into it. People change the way they think of you when they know that you have lost your mother.

I guess I shouldn't really leave on this note. I'm just sitting here alone in the house with the breeze and the open window thinking sad lonely thoughts of someone who has been in public along time and suddenly finds them self in private.

your hair is long, but not long enough to reach (but your beard someday might be)

Well. What can I say. I told myself at the end of the semester that this summer I was going to do as many free things as possible. So here I am, day after my first "tourism Victoria mixer." All of us tourist-oriented business folk get together and have drinks and make contacts etc. We rolled into the Sooke zip-line place in this limo-bus, equipped with ice, champagne glasses and a tv/sound system. We rolled out with a few extra (free) beers stuffed into our pockets, lurid smiles and a hijacked zip-line guide named Adam. (26, avalanche technician at Big White in the winter, professional zipper in the summer) I feel like this page is turning more into "Mortimer's Wild Times in the Big City" but really, maybe that's what my life is turning into. Anyway by the end of the night Adam was yelling "M! If I buy you a drink will you go kayaking with me on my next day off?!" and I agreed because when someone offers you free kayaking, you do not shake your head friend. We will see where this goes. I told him I would call him on my next day off...

Anyway tonight I am going to a free ska music thing in one of the squares (apparently the names are interchangeable?)

Also thought I would mention that when I saw the pictures from the riots in Vancouver my stomach dropped about 8 feet. Maybe I'm a big pussy but that kind of random violence scares me more than anything else in the world. Seeing pictures of the police just standing there watching this shit go down makes me wonder too. Was it really so bad that they thought that there was nothing they could do?

This picture also scares me- but in an awkward sideways grinning kind of way. Taken in the Met.

Have a nice day

Don't Be Ashamed Or Disgusted With Yourselves

laura dear, I am impressed by your instinct to blog while drunk. My instinct is usually to collapse face down unceremoniously.
Last night I biked with no hands down the galloping goose at dusk. I swallowed about 8 small insects but the euphoria made up for all that. I didn't take this picture but this is what it looked like. Please manually insert a couple in a turquoise rowboat and a little more sunshine.

So. Drunk.

Life will hate me tomorrow. I wandered around in the woods with a guy who stole his boss's cowboy hat, and I scored a pair of sweet sunglasses and a hat. Argh. Where is my maturity?