Sunday, August 30, 2009

Les boisons

Last night I was at the Globe for a mini-dance fest with resident birthday girl, Keri. We were up in the loft area, which is pretty much 100 percent effective for people watching. As the night went on, we watched the drunk folk roll in. Then I wondered,

Does alcohol hinder our ability to have fun in "real life"?

When I was 19 (legal drinking age here) I used to work most Saturday nights until 12:15, and then go to the bars with co-workers afterwards; thus I got quite used to going out without alcohol, and *maybe* getting a drink at the bar. Point being, I was not introduced to bars as an alcohol-necessary zone. So when I randomly overhear people saying, "I can't go there if I'm not drunk," or "I wasn't drunk enough last night so it wasn't fun," I kind of feel bad for us in general.

I guess the point of alcohol, or any drug really, is to enhance real life -- or perhaps escape it, actually. But what about enjoying life for what it is?

At what point does fun come disappointing when not enhanced?

I don't know... I had this all thought out last night. Anyway, I did have fun danced muchly, saw many others having fun and being happy, and the Globe has good nachos (corn and black beans!).

I also thought about us studying other species: how they raise their youth, mating rituals, eating habits, habitats, etc.

What would other species think if they studied us? Would they be appalled at the clothes we wear and the food we eat? Would they be baffled how there are so many humans but we all look so different?

If someone were doing research on humans, but went only to the poorest regions in Africa, or went only to the richest areas of the hills in California, entirely different observations and conclusions would take place.

"For mating rituals, women put on very high shoes, reducing their ability to walk properly."

CONCLUSION: Males are drawn to females who cannot walk properly. (?)

*Jen breaks her foot in an effort to up sexy factor*

Anyway, leftovers of Tropical Storm Danny flew in last night. I like storms like that - particularly when there is no thunder and lightening. Just an intense ten hours or so of rain. It's efficient rain too. There was mild sprinkling and rain scattered throughout the afternoon and early evening yesterday, but then around 8:00 the rain started coming down like waterfalls. I like it. Efficient rain is good rain. I would much rather skit through deep puddles for one day than deal with teasing rain and storm clouds for three days. Rain on, rain off, rain on, rain off. That all being said, the heaviest of the rain took place after sun down (WHICH IS HAPPENING FAR TOO EARLY NOW), my tone would likely have been different if buckets of water had been pouring all afternoon long, hindering my ability to play on bicyclette.

Anyway, speaking of bicyclette, it and I are off to have fun now. Danny has left the building and the sun is breaking through!

(PS ~ I have a bit of a secret love for hurricaine season, you know, as long as no one gets hurt.)

la la la la laaaa... I will up the humour factor later.

Also, I'm convinced drinking a touch too much causes charlie horses, at least for me. We had a leaving do at work on Friday night for someone leaving, and alcohol was flowing. I woke up at about 7:00am in agonizing pain, trying not to scream over the muscle spasms in my legs. The right leg does happen ocassionally, but for both calves to seeze up at once is much more uncommon - RARE, in fact! I know charlie horses are often a sigh of dehydration... so more water for me, I guess. Also, you know the charliehorses are bad when you can still feel them in your legs close to 30 hours later. I know you are supposed to stretch the muscle and massage it when it happens, but mine always happen at night and the only thing I can ever manage to do is scream, bite my arm to muffle the screams, and thrash about wildly while half holding my leg and think about crying. Death by Charlie Horse would be an agonizing way to go... all the muscles seezing up at once... Aye.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Where are you?

I am sitting in the basement of a hostel in a secret location... No, not so much. Well, yes, actually. Because I *am* sitting the basement, at a hostel, at a location I am not revealing. I shall give hints: I can see the US from this city - a city that I'm convinced occurred after Las Vegas had a mad love affair with I-Drive [Orlando] and Sunset Blvd [LA] stopped in to get in on the action. Ashamed at what was produced, the mother quickly gave the offspring up for adoption, and Canada embraced the awkward child.

Niagara Falls was born. [Oops, gave away location. But by the time potential stalkers read this I'll be in Baby Echo ("Boyfriend") bombing towards the US.]

Shan and I stopped in a couple of wineries in Niagara-on-the-Lake today. Summer is not meant for wine. Perhaps beer has overtaken my taste buds in this delightful season, but 28C does not make me want to drink wine. I find it.. smacky. It makes me smack my lips in a bad way, wishing I had something more refreshing as I furrow my brows. Wine does not quench my thirst. It's like being hungry and someone saying, "Oh, don't worry, I have chewing tobacco you can have."

Yuck. What?

Unrelated: In the right column of my blog I have a wee map of the world that shows where readers are from based on their... oh crap... ISN, no, ISP.. I... something... number. Apparently the Brain does not comprehend acronyms after 1h30am local time. So the wee map brings me much amusement, and I get giddy as new dots appear on the image. The largest dot is over PEI, which is not surprising. My parents (Hi Mom! Hi Dad! I'm still alive and well in Upper Canada!) have my blog as their homepage, because they love me and find me to be a hilarious addition to their family, and I, also on PEI, sometimes go back and read my blog to laugh at myself. Other dots are also obvious: Ottawa/Kingston/Montreal and Toronto/Guelph/Kitchener/other (they kind of blur together and provincial/territorial boundaries are not shown) as I know many people in these regions who also love me... or love to laugh at me. Either or, the dots in these regions are bigger.

But then, there are mystery dots. People who I do not know at all. Once someone visited my blog from Brasil. Two hits from Malaysia. This excites me greatly. When I looked at the map this evening there was a new dot smack in the middle of the US. Without state boundaries being shown, I can't really tell exactly where it is... but I'm sure it's a lovely place! Also, I now have a dot in Australia!! This is extremely significant, as I now have dots in all continents except Antarctica, which isn't even on my map (though I doubt I would have a dot there anyway).

Change of subject: dressing up [I'm getting tired.. when proofreading this I could tell my brain was starting to shut down.]

Today I am wearing a dress. It's one of my favourite clothing pieces in the world, particularly on humid days. The thing about dresses is that you suddenly look "dressed up" if you are wearing them. This one isn't so bad though, which I like. But I kind of did look dressed up today because my hair looked 'up-doish' because I had it knotted on the top of my head due to the intense heat. I was also wearing a ring because I had purchased a new ring ($1.25! Rock on 10,000 villages) and felt the best way not to lose it was to wear it. (Success! Ring has yet to be lost 10 hours later. Sigh of relief.) So I looked dressed up. However, I will let you in on a secret: I was not dressed up. The dress was for air flow purposes in the warm car. It also has no straps. The less skin touching fabric, the better. The hair took .4 seconds to put up. Sneezing would take longer. The ring cost less then a jar of pasta sauce.

I ramble, and sound silly, but the point is, dresses are easy; wearing them is practically cheating. I like them because there is no need to match things. Put on dress. Put on shoes. Leave house. No worrying that shorts/shirt clash. If the dress is clean, the whole outfit is clean. No putting on one clothing item to realise the matching item has a giant blob of mystery goop.

Damn mystery goop!! *shakes fist*

It's a holiday at home on Friday/tomorrow/today.

Happy Gold Cup day! Happy long weekend to all, and to all, a good night.

Friday, August 07, 2009


My Papa sent me this in a forward ages ago... and now... it's the day!!!

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 .

On August 7 , 2009

an amazing occurrance of

all digits from 1 to 9

take place.



At 12hr 34 minutes and 56 seconds on the 7th of August
this year, the time and date will be

12:34:56 07/08/09


This will never happen in your life again !!!

Thursday, August 06, 2009


When I was out biking last Saturday I saw a van for sale that caught my eye.

While it was not this exact van, it was quite similar. And I had a thought:

"That would be the ideal automobile for me."

C'est vrai! If I ever want to drive somewhere it is a far location at least two hours away. I could live in this van, just roaming through North America, exploring the wonders of the New World. I would have room for my bikes (or could attach them to the back or roof). Perhaps I could rope some sort of kayak to the roof. Maybe I could attach me to the roof. Or a surfboard. This van just encourages one to use his/her imagination. Obviously this adventure would require a companion. Ideally it would be a male (for me, and for the auto, as I foresee a 1975 van having a few mechanical issues), but if he does not materialise an animal of sorts would do. A small cuddly black bear? Alex. It could help me fish. Or a koala.

How fantastic would that be? Me traversing the continent with my baby bear in the passenger seat. I realise this could perhaps be "illegal" or "frowned upon", but I feel by putting a yellow fishing hat and a pair of John Lennon style sunglasses on the bear when pulled over by cops would solve the problem.

"Ma'am, is that a bear?"
"Good Sir! Surely you do not think that a bear called Alex would wear a fishing hat and sunglasses?"
"Alarminly correct my fair lady. I am stunned by your superior way of speaking. Perhaps we should enjoy a dram of whisky together?"
"My golly that is a delightful proposal. I shall take my whisky with ice, as acceptance of your effort to make nice."

Apparently my roadtrip is taking place in 1800s posh New England.

The roadtrip will come to a tearful end when I arrive at Yosemite National Park and release Alex, my bear friend. He's growing up now, you see. He is approaching puberty, and starting to take interest in lady bears. It's going to be heart breaking, much like the scene in the Fox and the Hound when Big Mama releases Todd into the wild, which, when I was 12, made me cry and cry and then cry some more and try to hug Mr. Kitty. However, for those of you who knew Friskey back in the day, one would recognise that hugging the "attack cat" (as dubbed by the staff at the vet college) was obviously a ridiculous action.


So I would release Alex the Bear into the park, to roam, and to find his place in life... in the background...

"Almost Paradise"...

I will then slowly walk back to my 1975 Dodge Van... alone. A stranger will tap me on the shoulder...

"Ma'am, I think you dropped something."

A small baby elephant... looking... for a home. Looking... for me.

On the road again...

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Biscuits de l'Ile

Today, while I was out on a delightful 70-km bike ride (!), I was thinking about cookies. I was heading down Rte 25 towards Jewel's Country Market, thinking that it would be delightful to stop and purchase some cookies.

I was correct, purchasing, and the subsequent eating, of cookies was a wise idea. However, apparently the secret is out on PEI and people are catching on to the deliciousness that is English Toffee cookies. They were sold out by the time I got there, late in the day, at about 5:00. I had to settled for white chocolate macadamien nut cookies. Still a pleasure for the taste buds... but not the gooey explosion of the cookies I was expecting.

The other delightful cookies place in PEI is in Hunter River. There, however, it is critical to purchase the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. If those are sold out, you could always settle for a cinammon roll. "Settle" is, perhaps, an overly strong verb, given that the cinammon rolls are also delightful, but just not quite as much as the PB/Choc cookies.

Conclusion: I ate an absurd amount of cookies today. However, I believe it's justified, based on my first bike route of the day.

Edited to remove map, because it showed where I live which is probably not a good thing to post on the Internet?

Yeah, you're impressed, I can tell. Then I went for another ride after. However, the Biking for Breakfast Challenge was on this very same Saturday. In that event people bike the tip to tip in one day. Perhaps about 280 km. Suddenly my ride looks... mole hill, rather than mountain. Next year I would like to do the day tip to tip. I will train hard and obtain quadriceps the size of small villages.

My environment will be changing soon. I'm excited. Also, random, but if anyone has recommendations for a school in France for improving ones French, please let me know. It's something I am considering for later in the Fall.

Et.. bisous... bonne soiree.