Once you start listening for the backbeat to this song in other tunes, you will find it everywhere

I have an interview with MacBride Mining Museum on Wednesday, and Brent Sass is leading the Iditarod. All is right with the world. Was reluctant to jump on the fandom train, but this guy. Really. Dropping one-liners that would be ludicrously cheesy coming from anyone else (ex. "PAIN IS JUST AN OPTION!"), but somehow you really feel that he believes them. Plus, his dad is just about the biggest sweetheart in the world.
Mushing is one of the few sports in the world where you can freely rub shoulders with the biggest superstars in the game (although, of course, they will attack you if you try to rub shoulders with their dogs). Where your friend can get drunkenly hit on by a certain 1000-mile race champion (not naming any names) who then manages to pack all 13 of his sled dogs into the scuzziest bar in town. And everyone just keeps sipping at their pints the whole while.

In the Mood to Strut

All this milk talk definitely has me craving pancakes. Preferably banana. With cinnamon. I was looking through my hiking cookbooks today for delicious Juan de Fuca recipes. Found a few, but they are mostly of the "dehydrate this for seventeen hours" variety.

The Big Dog, The Big Man and I all had a little adventure out to Kusawa Lake today. I wish I had a photo to show you, but my camera charger has gone awol. ***king incredible mountains out that way. This badly-behaved Airedale terrier ignored the frantic calls of his owners and bounded over to greet Chaos with far too much enthusiasm. Being an old, strong-willed husky, Chaos promptly tried to eat him, leading to ever louder cries from across the lake. This guy finally yelled over that if I just let my dog off leash, everything would be fine. I didn't capitulate as witnessing a bloodbath would have definitely ruined the day. The dogs above are from the YQ Carmacks checkpoint. Hordes of small schoolchildren descended on the checkpoint and were shunted into the care of an enthusiastic veterinarian from New York.

There have been an incredible amount of elk hanging out on the bluffs behind our cabin for the past few days. Yesterday at dinnertime I watched four of them bound wildly in a straight line across the cliffs, like something in a repetitive cartoon. When I turn on the generator, all twenty-something of them turn to stare down into the valley simultaneously.

Still don't have a job, and it's leading to increased guilt and anxiety on the daily. But at least I spend a lot of time outside.

finding a responsible usage for the infamous cold cream

had really good raw tiramisu today (sorry mascarpone)

I had this internally relaxing day today- it felt good just being in the sun and soaking it up. My sister and I had an exploring Nanaimo day- and it consisted of us just taking a different bus than usual, taking our sweet time and continuing this tradition of buying weird asian snack food from Manlee's and testing them out on the waterfront- I think my personal goal is to try every type of seaweed snack in the shop, wish me luck.

ps your milk is fine- the date is just to assure that the grocery store isn't sued- when in doubt though, don't throw it out. Use it for your baking (or pancakes is my favorite choice.)

pss jarule and jlo 4life.

More Milk Problems.

So I'm in the middle of my practicum right now. Today I hung out with Ngoc and put tattle tape in donated theater magazines from the 1980s.
I guess the worst thing about libraries is that a lot of books and especially magazines go into the landfill once they've been removed from the collection. Apparently the glue used on books makes them really hard to recycle.
And there's an odd amount of snobbery (that maybe only I perceive) displayed by librarians. We library techs tend to dress down and end up in the back cluttered work spaces, away from the windows. Librarians have standing desks and glass water bottles and have 'big picture' plans. Or maybe I'm thinking of one in particular... Anyway I'm sort of wondering if I made the right choice in becoming a tech instead of going whole hog. We will see in the long run.
Mike keeps saying that I'm gonna have to be the bread winner, or that I'm gonna end up supporting him. He's worried because he just turned 27 and he's considering going back to school. Doesn't seem to hit home every time I tell him that I am one of the younger people in my program, and that lots of people do their masters in their 30s. Plus who cares: if you are unhappy doing what you're doing, switch it up. Shouldn't matter what age you are.
Lately I've been obsessed with Ja Rule duets and I don't even care who knows it.

I'm having another milk problem. My milk is 4 days over expiry and it smells fine but I'm pretty sure it tastes bad. It's really hard to say and I keep second guessing myself. Plus my stomach feels weird and I'm bloated which maybe is because of milk? But what if both are psychological side effects of buying half price milk??

I Want to Be Left To My Own Devices.

This is where I went for a walk Saturday. And a gang of young men sped by on bikes whooping.


In the past week, two couples that I know have gotten engaged.
Heather, whose locker used to be next to mine, is marrying Elliott, who is British and whose parents died in high school and who once complimented my dainty feet and proceeded to ask me if I wanted children and what I would like to name them.

My friend Regan, who lives in D.C and is interning at the Smithsonian, is marrying her long time boyfriend.
U next L?

I dunno I guess I knit a sock. I've been plagued for the past week by the second cat, Johnny, who comes in in the middle of the night and stands on my chest. And tries to free climb my leg when I'm eating something tasty and is either blind in one eye or supremely disinterested in things happening to his left.
Other cat news: Jewy's full name is Ju-On, which is the Japanese name for the Grudge (Remember watching that movie at Maddy's birthday party and it was raining outside and we were sleeping in her living room in sort of a circle and there was glare on her TV so I couldn't see any of the scary parts and someone was giggling uncontrollably close to me anyway- Nicky?). Which was a name that came for her when she was malnourished and found, a yowling kitten in a cardboard box in the alley in Montreal. I guess I don't have to worry about telling people her name anymore.

Mike left last night and I went to the store and bought makeup and a pint of ice cream. And then I was embarrassed carrying it home like a cliche next to all the other girls clutching their ice cream and lipstick bags.

I have the worst headache and i'm listening to this

At least we're getting sun now.

I'm glad you have drunk bus stories.

I think my personal favorite for me is while I was in Montreal.  It just involved sneaking out to drink this delicious mint cooler in the alley way, a few streets behind the corner store we bought it all from. It felt ultra city slicker... and I don't remember much else from that night. I remember being silly with Camille and Kathryn.


Other than that, update on qualicum life:

1. It's quiet.
2. The local coffee shop makes the sweetest london fog still.
3. I feel weird being at the local QF
4. I'm impressed the forest walkway by my house has street lamps guiding my way. Parksville didn't have that.

Stardaddy Lives On

We were talking on break during class about throwing up and horrible hangovers, because apparently some debauchery went down this weekend, and I of course brought up the story about getting off the bus to throw up on the sidewalk, then catching the next one up to the school. I don't really remember the rest of the story to be honest. Like I know that Joey was moving to Vancouver, I know we were sitting around at someone's house passing around a small bottle of whiskey at one point. But really it was just another case of being too drunk and unjustified. Maybe this year will be the year of responsible beverage choices. The fact that no one finds that story very funny is a good indicator.

Plus David Bowie died, so nothing matters anymore.

L and the Milk

This is the story of L and the Milk. L is a German boy traveling in Canada over the winter. L has a degree in Geography and has never lived with anyone other than his family.
This winter, he decided to rent a room that he found on Craigslist. His roommate was uncommonly gorgeous and intelligent and he had a difficult time looking her in the eye, or coming out of room to spend time in the common areas of the house.
His roommate had just started drinking milk again regularly, after a summer of full swing dairy in which she realized that it wasn't worth drinking the milk of America's most water-consuming crop, especially since it makes everything taste worse (Still better than soy maybe). She had broke down one particularly cold week and bought a two liter carton, since she foresaw the need in the coming week for many hot chocolates.
L, as was customary, had bought his own large carton of milk. However, he was so shy he had trouble asking where the recycling was kept in the house. Once he finished the milk he left the empty carton in the fridge, and simply placed a new one next to it.
One day, his roommate opened the fridge to find her own half full milk carton, accompanied by his empty carton (which she removed and recycled for him), another half full carton and- what's this?- an entire full four liter jug of milk.
This is unfortunately where the story gets more difficult to tell as the author cannot fathom what a person could be planning to do with that much milk, especially since it goes bad so quickly. This is not the sort of product that one buys in bulk to save for a day when there is nothing else to eat.
The roommate, though deeply confused, did not have the chance to ask L what his intentions with the milk were as he had a tendency to stay out late and sleep in late.
The roommate went to visit her parents for two weeks over the Christmas holidays, and in this time forgot completely about the milk. When she returned to resume her studies in the new year, however, she found that the nearly full four liter jug of milk was still in the fridge, with a thick layer of scum rimming the top.
When L left the house to continue his travels, he took the milk with him.