lesson learned

I haven't been to many parties this holiday season, and I'm not sure that I'm too upset about that.

At one party that I attended, I found myself small-talking with someone I'd met a few times already. She professed that she was bad with names and could not remember mine, so I reassured her that: "It's alright, I'm not usually good with names either. My name is Elisa."

"Sorry, what's your name?" [perhaps she couldn't hear me, or had never heard that name before.]

"El-lisa...that's Lisa with an E before it." [Ok I admit, maybe I mumbled that.]

"Listen, can I call you 'Ay'?"

[Why would she do that? There's no "ay" sound in my name at all. But then, what are the chances that she'll even remember to call me "Ay" the next time I see her?]

"Uh, sure."

Then someone else entered the conversation and introductions had to be made again.

"I'm Elisa, it's nice to meet you"

Bad with name girl interjects: "But I'm going to call her Ay."

New girl asks why - she thought my name started with an 'E'.

"Oh my god, really?! I didn't know that...why did you let me call you 'Ay'?"


I am so mortified.

Old Crow

I've just returned from a trip to Old Crow, though my mom likes to tell people that I was in the North Pole for a week.

I love going places and finding myself changed by it. This time, I was mentoring in an Our World workshop, and one of the participants was a very distinguished looking elder who told us idyllic stories about trapping and hunting - living off the clean and beautiful Yukon land. He showed us photographs of people trapping and stretching muskrat hides. I thought the photographs were gorgeous and I suddenly wanted to live that life oh so much. That night, I dreamt we were camping out in Old Crow Flats together, checking on the muskrat traps we set in the pushups. It was a quiet and peaceful little dream.

Days later, I went inside a building and found a moose leg lying on the floor by the doorway. It was severed just below the knee joint - a slim length of a brown, furry, and bloody, stub. I was barely able to stay long enough to snap a picture before I had to pull myself away from it. I guess I wasn't as hardened as I thought I was.

Well, I'm still not disillusioned by the thought of living off the land. Maybe I can still go on camping trips, and sit with some soft, furry, willow buds in my hand while I feed on some tasty little berries.

koala keen

Noosa Head National Park:

A few steps into the park, an Australian man came up to me and hesitantly said, "Oh, please excuse me...there is a koala in that tree there, he's a little bit far up, but you can still see him sleeping." I waited, wondering what it was that he expected me to do about it. Should I be climbing up the tree to rescue it?

Oh, he had only meant to point it out to me so that I could enjoy looking up at it. As I walked through the park, I was stopped by several Australians and told to take a peek at koalas sleeping in trees (that's what koalas do all day apparently). The friendly people seemed to enjoy telling me about the koalas as much as I enjoyed looking at the fury creatures!

In response to little Lisa G who asked how big my paintings are, they are pretty small. Here is an image of the painting beside a shiny Canadian penny. Thanks for your interest, Lisa!

the site of the WOW!

It was a very twisty and kinetosis inducing Great Ocean Road that I found myself on for most of the day. Then just before the sun was about to set, my brother, steered the rental car into a parking lot. I opened the door to jump out,but it gave some resistance. It was a fierce wind that pushed back against the door! I fought my way out and then followed the signs that pointed me towards the Twelve Apostles.

No, not the followers of Jesus, these were rock formations in Victoria, Australia. I struggled against the wind towards the cliff edge, peeped out towards the ocean, and WOW!
The sun cast all it's raging orange brilliance on every form, the waves threw themselves relentlessly against the rocks. And the stoic rocks, just leaned into the wind and withstood all the fury of the scene.

The next morning we came back to the same spot to capture the scene in better photographic conditions. But in the friendly morning light, the wind was docile, and the waves were lazy - I just didn't appreciate the scene as much as I did the night before.

Travel Tip

Try to find someone who looks seedier than you to line up behind at an airport security checkpoint.

I still can't pinpoint what it was that made me seem so shady that day, but on my way to Australia, I was specially selected for a pat down search every single time I passed through airport security.

On one occasion, there was a supervisor who was scrutinizing the progress of the security guard who was scrutinizing the waistband on my pants. He gave her a thumbs up and said "Good, you're doing a good job."

Be-Littled Peguins

I've been in away on vacation for a few weeks, I know it's not the best excuse for neglecting my blog, but I can promise that the trip will be a lush source for many blog stories to come.


I was on the southern tip of Australia last month, where hundreds of Little Penguins swim up from the ocean at dusk and waddle across the beach into their little burrows. I settled myself along with the other spectators, onto the concrete staircase and waited for the penguins to emerge along the surf. The beach was illuminated by a very bright floodlight, put there for our viewing pleasure.

Half an hour after waiting, finally one lone penguin emerged. Then in groups, they washed up ashore, swiftly waddled over to, and pressed up against a pile of rocks as if to hide themselves. Some waited there for as long as twenty minutes before they thought it was safe to continue on. Then they furriously waddled up further and finally dissappeared into their nesting area.

I cooed over how cute and silly they were, trying to sneak up onto the beach. But after a while, I felt rather sad for them because they probably couldn't imagine how many people were sitting just beyond the reach of the floodlights, in the safety of natural darkness, watching their fruitless attempts at being undetected.

octopuses have three hearts

My friend told me a joke that cheered me up the other day.

Q: What did the octopus say to the bagpipes?
A: "Nice Sweater!!"

This made me think of what it must be like to be friends with an octopus. Don't you think they would give the best hugs ever?

my neighbors

As I was walking home today, I spotted my neighbors going for a walk. I couldn't help but notice how similar the trio looked.

a salute to an old sketchbook

The excitement of today is that I finished my sketchbook! Often, you can find me making notes and furiously sketching things I see passing by me while I'm on the bus.

Here are a few excerpts:


- a dancy tree

- JAZZ!!!!

- a man with beautiful hair on the bus,
it was abundant but well groomed:
facial hair, bushy eyebrows,
a volumninous, shiny head of hair
he couldn't keep his hands out of it...
and why should he?

- when you're looking for a date
with someone you just want to click with

- and for the grand finale, a two page spread!

a lucky find on a gray day

One miserably rainy day, I went out walking with a friend and spotted a my favorite bird standing on a wooden post.

"Look! A heron!" I shrieked.

My friend was skeptical, "I thought herons had long necks."

They do, only this one was posed much like I was at that moment. If he had hands, they would have been shoved deep into his pockets as he huddled against the ruthless pelting of the rain.

my foredoomed morning

This happened to me on Friday morning. At some point I should have given up and gone home, but I didn't:

1) Twenty minutes into my transit ride, the numer 10 bus pulled to the curb. Another driver climbed on and announced that the cables ahead were broken and that we could go no further. We had the choice to sit there and wait, or walk three blocks west to catch another bus going downtown. "How long is the wait?" someone called out. Grimly, the bus driver replied, "We don't know."

2) I walked the three blocks and arrived at a bus stop. "Hmmm", I thought, "there's only one number 8 bus that will take me downtown.  I'd better go to another spot where there will be more buses to catch."

3) Upon crossing the street, I see the number 8 bus pass by me to pick up passengers where I decided not to wait at.

4) Ten minutes later, I catch another number 8 bus.

5) The number eight idles at the bus stop I decided against, just to rub it in.

6) This is as far as I can go with the number 8, I get off to walk another three blocks to catch another that will take me to my destination.

7) I arrive just as a bus pulls in. It is the number 10 that I had impatiently alit when the cables were down. If I had only waited I would have ended up in the same place at the same time.

comfort food

When I directed my first video shoot a few days ago, I had everything organized - even what food I would serve to the crew and the talent. I had a grand spread that included doughnuts, muffins, (delicious, from Swiss Bakery) bread with spinach dip, a large veggie platter, and many more snack foods. The table was completely filled and I started to worry that I'd really overdone it.

Eight hours into the shoot, we still had many more scenes to capture. The crew was tired from working non-stop all day, and the talent was becoming impatient, always waiting for the crew to set up every shot. It was almost beginning to be a bad situation, but somehow after ten hours, we all managed to finish the day in high spirits.

As I nibbled on a doughnut at the end of the night, I thought about how there can never be too much food where there is boredom and stress.

oh no!

Yesterday night, I had a dream that my blog was on the news. People were concerned about my well being because I hadn't posted a blog for a week. Some speculated that I'd been kidnapped, others thought I'd won the lottery and moved to the Bahamas.

Sheepish and guilt ridden by my neglectful ways, I considered the idea of running away.

there's magic in the number three

I'm not doing a good job promoting the public transit system, here is yet another bit of strangeness I experienced the other day:

I was having a conversation with a friend about the diving competition in the olympics,

"Wow, and they can do it synchronized, can you imagine?"
"Yeah, when it played on TV, they took stills from different stages of the dive and compared their poses, it matched exactly! Isn't that amazing?!"


A woman tries to enter the bus with a small child, the door almost closes on the little boy's head. She then proceeds to the front of the bus to show her bus pass. The driver scolds her for using the back doors to enter but she ignores him.

"Isn't it? Isn't it amazing?"

A man starts to yell at the driver, at first I think it's because the driver isn't letting him on, but I see that the door is still open, I leaned forward to try to hear what he's yelling about.

"I mean, for every moment in time that they..."

The woman beside me decides to get off the bus, she sweeps by us, leaving a terrible stench and we notice that she is caressing a white rat on her shoulder, and the rat has a very large protuberance on the side of his stomach.

No conversation can survive events such as these, we let the topic die.

green screen

I want to shoot some video and use it with animated elements and backgrounds, so I have to film in front of something called a green screen. I don't know where to find such a thing to rent, so I "Cheapy Chee'd" it and bought 24 yards of bright green fabric at the Textile Clearance House - I'll make my own green screen!
The poor woman who had to cut the fabric for me, she asked me to repeat how many yards I needed three times because she couldn't fathom the idea of anyone needing 24 yards of bright green fabric. As she measured out the fabric yard by yard, I tried to think of what she might imagine that I would need this fabric for.












...

Surely I won't need ALL 24 yards of fabric for green screening, would I?

success story at the beach

A few weeks ago I attended a beach barbeque. I ate some delicious charred meats, then I lay around for quite a while. When my friend asked me to play frisbee with him, I felt guilty for being so sedentary under the beautiful sun...lazing around is clearly an indoor sport.

I wasn't very good at throwing the frisbee, most of the time it went in the wrong direction, once, it even came back and hit me in the face. My friend taught me that there is such a thing as the perfect time to release the frisbee so that it goes exactly where you want it to. Finally, after practicing quite a few more times I learned to feel the rim of the frisbee rolling off each finger and to let go at the right time. The frisbee soared straight ahead! My friend was able to catch and throw it back to me - this time it didn't hit me in the face.

wasp in the window

The new buses in this city have big windows, but small window openings. The sun beats into the bus, heating the air that can't escape the vehicle. The other day, when I settled into a sun warmed seat, I spotted a wasp in front of me.

It was loitering about, by the window when suddenly it reared back and smashed it's head into the glass. Disoriented, it flew around a bit before it banged into the glass again. This time it fell down to the window sill. Before long it got up, looked out of another section of the window - looked at the beautiful cool breeze tickling the leafy tips of the lush green trees. It rushed headfirst towards the glass again and fell to the window sill.

I understood. I pushed the button to signal that I wanted the bus to stop, and when the doors finally opened, the wasp followed me out.

how to fight insomnia #1

Today I was talking to my friend about her sleepless night. I think everybody has their own way of battling insomnia, but I just wanted to share a trick that always seems to work for me.

First, I settle into a very comfortable position (fetal is most preferable). Then I close my eyes and make sure that the room is dark enough. Now, I will conjure up images of things that make me incredibly happy...I imagine wonderful scenarios like what I would do with a million dollars, or what I would say at my coronation ceremony, and plan my acceptance speech at the Academy Awards.

The more enjoyable this reverie is, the sooner it is that my hateful mind decides that I've had enough fun. It then shuts down and abandons me to the unconscious dreams.

things to savour

I can't help it, I love birthdays. For some people it means partying with friends and being celebrated. I like to treat myself to some fried chicken.

It's not ordinary Church's chicken - it's special because I've been anticipating it for three hundred and sixty four days.

Anything will taste better if you've abstained from it for a long time. Try it!

me, me, me

People have been asking me what I've been up to lately. This is my favorite answer: "Last week I've been mentoring in a workshop!"

Then I like to gush: "It was with a really fun bunch of people who are writers!...and artists! and I get to work with them to make a digital storytelling pieces! based on wonderful things they've already written! They're all fun to be with! and funny too!"

Then before they get the opportunity to tell me to shut up because I'm practically yelping, and it's hurting their ears, I sneak in the final line "I miss them all already!"

What people also find annoying is that I now refer to dates as either pre-workshop or post-workshop. "When did he propose to you? Oh, you mean, three weeks before the workshop started."

It IS possible that I'm being too self-absorbed when it comes to sharing this experience. But I don't think I'm going to stop.

the swim suit search

The other day I bought a month pass to use the public pool near my house. Since I intend to swim a few times a week, I had to go to the mall to buy myself a second bathing suit.

Buying a bathing suit is not an easy task.

It's a solitary endeavor; you don't want new friends to see so much of you. And if you have very good friends who you like, you certainly don't want to subject them to that kind of visual torture.

19 times, I put on a swimsuit and decided that I looked nothing like the picture of the model wearing the bathing suit, on the tag. The women in the pictures look graceful, slim, and pose in a beach setting, though there isn't a hint of sand stuck onto their glistening bodies.

The twentieth time in the change room, I tried on a suit that had it's tag ripped off. I succeeded in looking just like myself.

So I bought it.

my brother: character sketch

When I was seventeen, I had a drivers license, places to go, and no car of my own. My older brother, on the other hand, had a brand new car sitting in the garage while he took the bus to work. One hot summer day, I needed to run an errand that was an hour's walk away, so I decided to borrow his car without asking him.

I scratched his car, just exiting the garage.

When I returned, I saw that there was a very deep 10 inch long defacement on the shiny silver paint of his passenger door. I felt fear, but mostly I felt remorse...I was a very selfish, bratty sister, and he was going to hate me!

When my brother came home, he saw me crying and asked what was wrong. Between the blubbering, I told him about my wrongdoings. He didn't hate me at all, in fact, he tried to cheer me up!

Art Therapy Session: 1 (bus incident)

Yesterday, I hopped onto the bus and had to stand because all the seats were taken. I started staring out the window and daydreaming as per usual. Suddenly I heard a gruff voice behind me: "GET OUTTA THE *#&@'EN WAY!!!"

It was a very irate man with a very wide bag trying to get to the exit door behind me. After quickly squeezing myself into a small space to let him through, my first reaction was to shrug it off. Obviously the man had some issues unrelated to me, causing him to be so unreasonable.

But then as time passed, I thought 'well, he should have asked politely. I would have moved if I'd known he wanted to pass through'...a few moments later: 'is it me? was I inconsiderate to be so unaware of the needs of the people around me?'. As more time passed, I began to feel a little bit irate about him having personal issues and turning his wrath on me.

I'm beginning to think that bad feelings don't go away, they are conserved like energy in laws of physics...it never disappears, only takes on different forms. I didn't want to thrust this yuckiness onto anyone else, so I quickly sat in a newly vacated seat and drew furiously. This was the most satisfying form of revenge for me.

common sensorship

Sometimes I forget how strange I can be. Once, I went to a bookstore in a mall and saw a fabulous book of Schiele's drawings on sale.
I couldn't wait to gaze upon his artwork - the colours, the textures, the expressiveness of his drawing style...they are sublimely beautiful and reproductions of it were in my little hands!
It was wrong - I know, that I walked through the mall with my eyes locked onto the pages of a book. What made it even more awkward was that Schiele's work is mostly made up of drawings of nude women. Now that I think about it, I rather hope the people around me thought I was strange, instead of depraved.

nature happy

I have a new obsession.

I like lying on grass... in the park, on someone's front yard, anywhere. The other day I was lazing around on a lovely green spread, looking up at crows in the trees, and I really felt at peace with everything around me.

But then I sat up and discovered that I'd just smooshed an entire family of ants.

screen magic

My yesternight:
At 7:00pm, tired from teaching animation during the day, I reluctantly hopped on the #22 bus to the purple thistle for a filmmaking workshop and screening. I wasn't sure what it would be like, and I didn't think that there was anything they could teach me about film making that I didn't know about already. I hoped that I wouldn't fall asleep at the screening.

I arrived and instantly spotted a handsome looking blue bus, where I was invited in to sit with other filmmakers and animate by drawing directly on film. Then, we headed outside where the two lovely hosts from the Echo Park Film Center unrolled a screen on the side of the bus, pulled out a projector and started showing some beautiful and honest short films, two of which were made in Vancouver - with the filmmakers in attendance! When it got cold, blankets were handed out. In between intermissions, the Bingo Bunny came out to call out numbers and hand out prizes...then filmmakers talked about their work. The night ended with the screening of the animation we worked on earlier in the evening.

There was a grin on my face the entire night, and I was so glad that I went - it's quite a different and wonderful experience to watch a screening when you're in the presence of people who have such a great enthusiasm for film.

animation is the fountain of youth

This morning, I was tutoring two nine year old girls in animation. They seemed to be enjoying the lesson most of the time and were even eager to get back to their project after their lunch break. The screening of their very cute film was scheduled for the afternoon, programed to play after a feature length documentary. I was fidgety during the post production process because of the tight deadline, but both girls reassured me that the film would be played later than we thought it would. "Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Because, they always talk about films afterwards for a long time." replied one of my students.
"Who's 'they'?" I asked.
"The adults!" she replied, exasperated with me and my dumb questions.

I'm almost two years shy of being thirty. But then, it was just too fun animating at that table with them - I let them think I was nine years old too.

telephobia

I wanted to print some colour images onto vellum but I wasn't sure where to get this done. If I were to go to a printer, would I have to buy the vellum first, or do they have vellum already there? Should I buy the paper first, and then show up with it? or visit the printers to make sure that they wouldn't reject foreign paper? It was clear to me, and I couldn't avoid it, I had to phone in to ask.

I dreaded every second leading up to the call. I looked up the phone number hoping that the number wasn't available, but it was. Then, sadly, I heard dial tone when I picked up the receiver. I pressed the buttons, the phone rang, then rang again...it rang about five or six times - I imagined two teenagers standing behind the counter having a great chat, rolling their eyes at the ringing phone. Finally someone picked up.

I clumsily blurted something out in my small voice, already turning red from embarrassment by how awkwardly I'd phrased the question. Then, the man answered, he stuttered, he "ummmed" and "errred", and he repeated each answer twice as if he was unsure and wanted to test the answer by hearing it out loud.

When all my questions had been answered, I stuttered and offered many 'thank yous' and he did the same with his "you're welcomes'.

the artful browser

I've gone into this one art supplies store for the third time this week already just to browse.

I don't ever intend to buy anything, I just like to stand there and admire things. First, I loiter about the brushes and the paints, and then after that, the sketchbooks. I feel up the soft bristles, thumb through the watercolour paper, and test out pens on the scrap of paper they leave out for that purpose. The sales people, I think they recognize me, but I am defiant and shameless. I pick things up and leave them elsewhere, I hold on to expensive items for a little bit too long.

Ok, I admit, this story is only half true. I was there one too many times, it's true, but each time I was paranoid about people thinking I was a shady character, so I walked around with my hands conspiciously away from my pockets at all times. And today, embarassed that someone might tag me as the creepy art store browser, I bought a pen.

bench pressing matters

Lunch is usually a fun and carefree time, especially on a sunny day. I ran outside with my friend to relax in the park where there was a perfectly situated empty bench awaiting us in the shade.

"Lets sit there!", she hops over to the bench first and sits down. I was a few steps behind, and I now assessed the situation: There was an extra arm rest in the center of the bench as well as on both ends. Is this a two person bench? or a four person bench? If I sat in the small space between my friend and the armrest, would I fit? If I chose to sit on the other side of the metal armrest, would there be too much space between us?

I think I made the right choice, I sat between her and the arm rest...that's the right choice, isn't it?

mini tennis

Last Friday was a bit hectic for me. Running from one little meeting to another, schlepping my laptop case with me, stopping into stores to run errands and trying to catch buses in between. Then several hours hunched over the wacom tablet trying to finish pre-production work for a self-invoked deadline. Late in the afternoon finally, it was mini tennis time.

Mini tennis explained:
After two tennis lessons, my very patient instructor recommended that I practice my swing by playing mini tennis. Because one only uses a quarter of the entire court, and stays close to the net, they are forced to slow down their movements. This allows one to focus and pay close attention to how each motion one makes, effects where the ball ends up on the other side.

It was a lovely late afternoon, playing mini tennis with my friend. The goal was to volley the ball lightly back and forth as long as we possibly could. We contemplated on the idea of how mini tennis could be a philosophy of life, instead of just a tennis drill. How wonderful it would be if we could decide where to draw our own boundaries and live as slowly and lightly as we feel like.

dave #5776

My phone line wasn't working the entire weekend, and yesterday I went to my phone service provider's homepage to look up their number so that I could call them with my cell phone. I saw this online customer service option and thought that it would be a good idea to try it instead of phoning in and talking to a representative with my 12 year old sounding voice. But somehow even without my "ums" and "ers", it was a more awkward experience than it would have been on the phone. The conversation went a little like this:

dave #5776: Thank you for choosing -----, I will try to help you with your technical issue.
[30 seconds pass, I'm thinking that I should type something to let him know that I'm here]
Elisa: Oh, thank you
dave #5776: I just want to verify your address to make sure I'm looking at the right account here.
Elisa: Sure, its 5555 blah blah street
dave #5776: Thank you
[2 minutes later, he still hadn't typed anything new, has he fallen asleep? Did he get up to grab a coffee? Should I say "you're welcome"?]
dave #5776: Ok, can you take a look at your phone modem and tell me how many lights are on?
Elisa: What exactly does my phone modem look like?
[after 1 minute, I can never be sure but I think he sounded a little terse with his reply]
dave #5776: It's a black box with lights
[that sounds like a lot of things in my house, but I got up from my computer to search, this took 2 minutes and I was getting increasingly worried that Dave #5776 would think that I'd given up on his help]
Elisa: I found it!
dave #5776: Great, how many lights are on?
Elisa: Oh right, five lights and two that are blinking.
dave #5776: That sounds alright to me. Can you try plugging the phone in directly to the modem?
Elisa: Ok, I did it.
dave #5776: Did you hear the phone ring?
Elisa: No, I didn't. And there is still no dial tone.
dave #5776: Did you plug in a cordless, or a corded phone?
Elisa: A cordless, is that OK?
dave #5776: Yes, just make sure the battery is charged.
Elisa: Yes it is...should I try plugging in a corded phone anyways?
dave #5776: No, it should work if the battery is charged.
[I just wanted to be helpful, but three minutes after this last message I began to wonder if I'd pissed him off with my presumption]

Then the phone rings and it's not Dave calling, it's Rob who is helping Dave with my technical issue. I muttered a "oh, yeah, thanks, bye." And hung up.

dave #5776: Looks like that went well.
[too wierd, too wierd! how does he know? why did he have to ask Rob to phone? Where the heck is he? Maybe he's not even a tech person at all, just a super fast typer with good instant messaging manners - he's got another window open for writing to Rob, the actual tech person, and he's got Judge Judy on the TV, he writes his messages to me during commercial breaks.]
Elisa: Yeah, thanks for your help!
[2 minutes pass, unsure about what to do, I closed the window.]

Hotel Experience: Bella Coola - part 4 (the end)

I was somehow able to hold in all my distress through most of the next day. But then over my pork cutlet dinner, I blurted out to my friends, "Uh...I think there's a ghost in my room!".

They looked at me, and they were all wonderfully calm. We shared ghostly experiences and talked about why the ghost would want to hang out in my room. Maybe the ghost was musing on why I was hanging out in his or her room at that same exact moment.

I went back upstairs, poked my head into the bathroom and introduced myself to the general direction of the sink. Then I gave a light lecture on water conservation, though I added reassuringly that I was actually quite amused by all the trick playing. Finally I respectfully requested that the ghost make her or himself comfortable at anytime in the room, except while I was sleeping.

The tap never turned on by itself after that! And the ghost was great company, we watched many a bad TV show together that week.

Hotel Experience: Bella Coola - part 3

The next morning, I awoke to see the room saturated with cheerful daylight. I thought to myself that surely nothing sinister could ever happen in a room such as this! I whistled a happy tune and prepared for the day, brushing my teeth, washing my face - conscious of turning the tap off after every use.

When night came, I became a bit anxious about being in the room by myself all night. Luckily, I was invited to my friend's room for a nice chat and some television viewing, so I took a quick shower and scuttled across the hall in my pink pyjamas. When I returned two hours later, I heard a familiar sound. Was it what I thought it was?

Indeed it was - this time, the faucet in the bathtub was running at it's fullest.

Hotel Experience: Bella Coola - part 2

What a wonderful state I was in, sleeping off my exhaustion - when suddenly I woke up. I looked over at the clock, it was 2 am. I turned over and closed my eyes, but the sleep wouldn't come. I adjusted the pillows, pulled the sheets up to my chin, wiggled my toes, but still felt that I wasn't situated right...I just couldn't go back to sleep!

In my grogginess, I tried to concentrate and troubleshoot, it wasn't the temperature, that was fine. It wasn't the lighting, it was sufficiently dark in the room. Ah ha, it was a very loud constant noise!

I tried to tune it out, but after 20 minutes of trying not to think of the noise and hence doing nothing but think of the noise, I decided to investigate where it was coming from. I peeped into the bathroom to find the faucet turned on full blast. Had I forgotten to turn it off in my fatigued state? How was I able to fall asleep listening to it run like that?! HAS it been on this entire time? But if it hadn't, who turned it on?! eek!

Hotel Experience: Bella Coola - part 1

The year before last, I went to Bella Coola for the first time.

This was my wacky transit experience:

I cabbed two hours early to the airport where I was finally let onto a wee little plane that was forced to land at the Anaheim Lake airport because it was simply too snowy to land at the intended destination, Hagensborg. From there I would have had to ride a little school bus for more than 3 hours down an icy, windy road except that one of the passengers on the plane was a pilot who offered me and two others a ride in a helicopter. This mode of transport would take only 1.5 hours to get the Hagensborg but then it would involve a different kind of danger. I took the ride but fretted all the way to Bella Coola about the cargo that I couldn't bring with me on the helicopter. Finally at Hagensborg, a very nice woman from the hotel came to pick me up, but the cargo was on the bus that would arive two hours later - would they go back and retrieve it for me? What was I to do?!

When I got to my hotel room, I passed out immediately on my comfortable bed - exhausted from all the worrying of the day.

subliminal crime fighting

When I sleep through my radio alarm clock, I often have very strange dreams featuring things that I hear on the radio. Having subconsciously heard a newscast about the mysterious demise of a Canadian woman in China today, I dreamed that I was wandering the streets of Shanghai trying to investigate what happened without knowing where I was or even where to start. I walked down two blocks and said "A HA!" Then I woke up and forgot what my revelation was.

a slumpy day

This was me today.

bus dilemna

After waking up later than I had wanted, I hastily made my way to the bus stop near my house. One block away from it, the bus swept by me and stopped to let some passengers out.
What to do?! Should I run for it? How many people were getting out? Did the driver see me? These heavy questions slowed me down as I neared the bus - before I reached it, it pulled away.

Well, sometimes when you feel shafted, the only thing you can do is pretend to yourself that you didn't really want what you did anyways. I shrugged and walked down further in hopes to catch another bus, but then the traffic light changed in my favour and the same bus stopped again in front of me at the next bus stop! This time it was a short distance to run and I caught it without looking too much like a fool.

Catching the bus you intended to take is the most wonderful miracle of all.

dessertion

Friday night, my friend asked me over to bake with her but somehow, I never made it there to help her. She toiled all night to make cupcakes and a yogurt pineapple cake.

Saturday I woke up and decided that it would be nice of me to visit her just to see how she did with the baking. The desserts were delicious, the cupcakes were delightfully fluffy and the cake was drool worthy.

This whole situation was like the little red hen story except with a different ending! The lazy animal reaped the rewards! This is a terrible story to tell children, I'll have to make up for this and be more helpful next time.

chocolate pudding cake

Tonight I had a most delightful time. A delicious homemade Tonkatsu dinner followed by a walk to this dessert place called Sweet Revenge. I ordered a chocolate pudding cake and got to taste my friends' white chocolate cheesecake and chocolate mousse cake. With good company and the sensation of being in the right place in the right moment, I felt like I was a plate of heavenly chocolate pudding cake - warm and gooey.

bodyless bliss

Last week's issue of the New Yorker had an article called "The Itch" about persistent itching and how our brains and bodies work - actually it's more like how our brains and bodies seem to work against us! I was so engrossed in this truly horrific account of one woman's chronically itchy scalp experience that I even forgot to read the cartoons printed beside the article!

I'm a bit distressed from reading about how much grief one's body could cause a person. This is my idea perfection - we're all floating fields of happy colours, there is no need to see a doctor ever.

Hotel Experience: Teslin - part 4 (the end)

The sweat soaked bed I lay on was situated right by the window, save for the little gap between where the heat vent ceaselessly blew out hot air. I opened the window for some relief but when a breeze finally found its way into the room it was more like steam being forced out of a boiling kettle.

I think I was on fire!


The things people do in desperation - at 4 am I took a cold shower but relief was shortlived.

At 6am, the sun began to rise, I ran out to greet it, vowing to never be warm again.