Devils and Dust

I didn't like the way he looked at me.

It wasn't scary, but it made me uncomfortable. It was a look as if he knew me, or knew my secrets.

Maybe it was the way I looked at him first. He was waiting patiently in front of me at line in the grocery store. Six o'clock supper rush hour. He waited calmly and peacefully, while I flipped songs on my Ipod, struggled to hold my basket of groceries and contemplativly scanned the scene.
I think I met his glance just a little too long. That's when he smiled at me. I returned the half smile, sheepishly, and went back to staring at magazine covers.

His hair was salt and pepper, just like the peppercorns in my basket. His dress was conservative, but it was the white collar that intrigued me the most. I was curious to know what kind of minister he was. Was he on his way home from working at the church all day? Maybe he was visiting someone in the community, or at the hospital. Why was he buying 10 cans (and only that) of frozen juice? He looked at me even more closely. He looked at me as if he knew me or knew something about me. It was sympathetic, but not condescending or presumptuous. I think he looked into my soul, and saw my devils and my dust.

Fear is a powerful thing
It can turn your heart black you can trust
It'll take your God-filled soul
Fill it with devils and dust

Irony, at it's finest

Now, let me just state as a disclaimer, that I'm sure this is what I saw, but I was unable to confirm it (by the constant double checking that usually infiltrates it's way into my day). This is so tragically ironic, I don't think I could have imagined it.

This morning, I was walking by the newspaper boxes. The Chronicle Herald, the Daily News and the Globe and Mail side by side.
The Globe, as per usual featured the top political story.
The Daily News as per usual, had a public interest photo. Today's photo just happened to be of someone having the time of their life paragliding. It was a bright blue sky with a colourful parachute and a notably happy paraglider.
The Chronicle Herald, however, also had a story about a skydiver. Unfortuntely, the story was a tragic one about a skydiver who died in the Valley this weekend.

The irony of the covers of the two papers side by side is uncanny. I know, I know, it's tragic. I'm sure it was a fluke at the Daily News and they had probably gone to press by the time they got wind of the accident (no pun intended). Either that, or someone out there has a sick sense of humour.

Dancing Queen

You've got to come in, He's sitting at our table.

"Done. As soon as I find my ID, I'm in."

The other boys from the band looked over at me. They wanted to find out who was this girl who was so excited that Luke (their bass player), was sitting at a table with her friends. Marti leaves me to go see if Luke is able to sneak me in for free. He is afterall, in the band. After what seems like an eternity but was probably much closer to 5 minutes, she returns. No luck on the use of the connections, but the girls took up a collection for my cover. They wanted me to come in with them but we weren't planning to stay long. No really, we werent.

By the time I find the girls at their table, Luke was gone. That's okay with me. I was in no mood to be funny, witty or charming. I don't know if I wanted him to see me like that.

We decide to stay at the Alehouse for the first set. Andy, can we get a round of doubles please? My friend was now on a first name basis with the very cute waiter.

We hit up the dancefloor. Stage right. His left. There is music and there is laughter and that's good enough for me. The dancefloor fills in to the point where obnoxiously drunk people are pushing and scrambling all over the place. I tell my friend I can't deal with this. I'm going to sit at our table again.

The band sounds tired. I don't know if they are, or if its because we've seen them play so many times. Marti and I are ready to move on, the other two girls are not. Sooner or later, we have them convinced. I was supposed to go find my wingman. She was at Boomers. Gulp.

After a couple more stops, discussion and debate, we decide to check out Rain. It's almost 2 at this point, and so Rain is an obvious choice -- they're open late. When we get there, it's not that busy. We head right for the dancefloor. I'm not sure how it happened, but in my easily persuaded ways, i'm now dancing on something speakeresque about a foot and a half above the dancefloor. Great, now everyone is watching me. But at least I have my own space. We dance and dance and dance. We danced till I couldn't dance anymore.

The sub I had for supper at 5 pm had long left me. I was so hungry, so tired, and just a little bit buzzed. I needed pizza. We walked over to pizza corner, and then had to walk to find a cab. And finally, after what seemed like a long night where no one was having an exceptionally good time, I was home. Cinderella didn't even loose a slipper at the ball. She just considered herself lucky that she didn't turn into a pumpkin.

The Glamourous Life of a Single Girl

I don't remember at exactly what point I made the decision. But this afternoon when Megan told me of an adventure taking place this evening, I knew right away I wasn't going.

I had big plans. Plans that mostly included doing nothing.

So here I am, all alone on a Friday night. I tried to find someone who wasn't up for adventuring but rather wanted to watch a movie, or read a book, and drink wine with me. No takers. That's never stopped me before.

So here I am, finally feeling relaxed. A glass of wine, a bag of microwave popcorn and a really interesting book. If i told you what book I'm reading, you'd think I'm a nerd. I'm in my PJs sitting on my couch. Sometimes, that's what does a body good. Not excercise.

I still feel small when I stand beside the ocean. I feel even smaller when I'm sitting on the ocean in a kayak.
The sky was not inviting. The wind was warm, but it was wind. And anyone who is trying to propel themselves anywhere with nothing but their own force know that wind is a little tricky somedays. Only one way, of course.
Lori and I shared a kayak. Two people means double the man power. It was better at times. Frustrating at others. I decided to go with the laissez-faire approach. Given that I'm not a good kayak driver, i relinquished all steering power to Lori in the back. Sometimes I liked not being in control. Other times, I wanted control.
It was a fun day. good company, good times, good adventure. I'd write more, but I'm so tried, and one of my arms is in danger of falling off. True story.

MIA

I'm not posting anything today. Normally, I force myself to write something as an excercise. Something to help me improve my writing. Today, I just though you should know, I'm taking the day off.

Overlap

I search your profile, for a translation, I'll study the converstaion, like a map. I know there is strength in the differences between us. I know there is comfort where we overlap. (Ani Difranco -- Overlap)

"I'll walk you home" he said.
"that would be great, if you don't mind".
It was 11:30 and i was just putting on my shoes.
He put on his hat, while i picked up my backpack.
"Ready when you are".

He approached the doorway and I silently walked down the stairs. The sound of his footsteps echoed behind me. We walked down the street in silence. The pace was brisk but not uncomfortable. Conversation eventually turned to a minute amount of small talk. He was working through something, it was evident. Behind his eyes was a cloud so thick I couldn't help but wonder if he was partially responsible for the rain. He seemed distant, and a little out of sorts. The silence and the small talk didn't bother me. Normally, I would try to break this up. Tonight, I was happy to let it go. I too, had a lot on my mind and wanted to think things through.
The company was appreciated. The chivalrous action of making sure I got home safely was also appreciated. And sometimes, walking in silence isn't so bad after all.

I search your profile, for the translation, I'll study the conversation, like a map. I know there is strength in the differences between us. I know there is comfort, where we overlap. So come here, stand in front of the light, stand still, let me see your silhouette. I hope you've got all night, because I"m not done looking yet. (Ani Difranco -- Overlap)

Moriku

Moriku would have liked the watermelon scent. He was that kind of monkey.
You did not, you were that kind of girl.
I really did. I was a different kind of girl.
Moriku longed to bask in the watermelon scent. But he never got the chance to know its glory. He was just the monkey in our soap bottle. He had to live with whatever we agreed on. We agreed not to use watermelon soap.
I miss Moriku. Not as much as I miss you though.
Tonight, I looked at my soap dispenser in a new light. The image of a juicy watermelon was plastered on the back. After all this time I have watermelon soap. Moriku. He is what is missing. And you. Watermelon soap makes me miss you.

Kindred Spirits

Some things, we just don't talk about. Not in so many words, anyway. And really, what does it matter? She is a great friend. One of those friends that you hope everyone has at least one of. Someone you can depend on. Fun, exciting, practical, smart, reliable. This girl would bend over backwards or reach up and steal you the moon, if it meant that much to you.

Sure, there were bits of her past I'd like to know about. But they never came up in conversation. And I didn't want to pry. I know shes the type of person to talk about something when she's ready. Then i realized, maybe i was just never listening close enough.

The silence in the car was comfortable. If either of us knew the words to the song, we would have been singing. When we don't, there is usually chatter and funny stories. Today I had a funny story. And then it happend. In the fit of giggles that erupted at the end of the story, she recirocated with a story I've never heard her tell before.

Who knew we had so much in common. All this time, I liked being her friend because she was fun. Now i think we might be closer to kindred spirits.

There is no way it's 9:10 already. I'm have 50 minutes to be at work. Hurry now, there is much to be done.

I remember the exact way it felt to collapse into my the soft comfort of my bed. I was floating and drifting. I landed softlyand was embraced by the down duvet and feather pillows. My bed felt like the clouds. I thought a lot before sleep came last night. Happy thoughts. Not so happy thoughts. Why do I say stupid things and babble so much when I'm nervous. Couldn't you have thought of anything more exciting to say other than "cool". Are you laughing with me, or at me? Maybe a bit of both?

And when i woke up this morning. That's when it hit me. It was real. Yesterday happened.

I'm still trying to sort it out in my head. Uncertanity lies ahead.

Hook, Line and Sinker

The sun painted the sky in a myriad of indescribable colours. The water danced along in approval. Even the moon came out to say hello. As it rose slowly in the sky, it too knew that this party was too much fun to be missed.

The evening started out with uncertainty. It wasn't what I was expecting. It was our job to mix and mingle. All by ourselves. Shaken. Not Stirred.

We sat back and watched people come on board. We were there to check, and be checked out. Normally I hate that. But tonight, it didn't bother me so much, maybe because everyone was there to 'pick up'. I knew everyone's intentions before I even batted an eyelash. The cards were on the table, no hidden agendas that I couldn't predict and control. I was in control.

I talked to the boy that looked like John Mayer. He had on a crisp blue shirt, his hair was just long enough with a titch of wave to it. Beige pants and flipflops. He was recently back from Thailand. we had a great chat about some travel, then some more about some other stuff. His name was Phil, kind of like the verb. That was his joke, not mine. Who knew there were other geeks besides me out there. We both excused ourselves and moved on.

The white not-linen, but flowy like linen shirt was paired with a nice basic pair of blue jeans. The man wearing them, looked great in them. I liked how confident he was. He was there with no one. Sitting, first by himself then talking to some girl done up like a barbie doll. I noticed him because he was grooving to the music and singing lightly under his breath. I could see lips moving, but no words. We had a great chat about photography. And art as hobby. We chatted, we laughed, we moved on.

There were other faces, other stories, other good clothes, other not so good clothes. There was dancing. Phil and I attempted to Salsa. I forgot the salsa steps and ended up swing dancing. We laughed. I confessed that earlier I had been dancing around my appartment. He seemed to have a good sense of humor.

Robert and I danced too. That white shirt was beautiful as he danced. He wasn't a good dancer, but neither am I. None of that mattered.

The smile that was watching me accross the boat was my favourite. It was a big grin. Red Riding Hood big. I spent the first part of the night avoiding him. We had met on the dock. He was an organizer and wrote me a name tag. We laughed and made jokes about sliding numbers into peoples pockets. Right after he left, Sandie told me she thinks he liked me. I think I liked him. I especially liked the way he worked in to the conversation that he was single. I wonder if he's just being friendly, making conversation and trying to put us at ease. Or if he meant something by it. I"m pretty sure it was the first suggestion. Not the second one.

Halfway through the evening, I walked by and he struck up a conversation. I could hardly hear him. He was sitting, i was standing
<>Wind was blowing. I made the best of it. Eventually I sat down next to him. Conversation was better then. Almost – there was another girl. We chatted a little more later that evening.

The breeze off the harbor turned cool. He was cold in his short sleeved shirt. My black, three quarter sleeve and slightly fluffy sweater was doing a good job keeping me warm. It all happened so fast, I’m not sure how it happened, but soon I was in his arms. No more than 10 seconds of bliss. Sweet bliss. He smelled good. Not strong, but clean. I hoped I smelled good too. He was just tall enough that his chin rested close to my forehead, my head sought out a comfortable place on his shoulder and found it without missing a beat. My arms embraced him as his one arm wrapped around my shoulder. I wonder if he liked having me in his arms as much as they liked being there.

He was using me to keep warm. I was okay with that.

Distance. Time. And Space. Mingling.

<>

As the boat pulls back to the dock, I know it’s now or never. I was surprised to find my feet beneath me. With that many butterflies, I felt like I was going to fly away. Deep breath in, don’t think twice—it’s alright. And go. I take the cue from the conversation on the dock. I slip my card into his shirt pocket. He laughs because he remembers the conversation we had on the deck. I tell him I think it’s a trick he probably uses all the time. He tells me nope, I was technically the first one to use it. I’m not sure what was technical. I didn’t have the nerve to ask. I disappeared into the crowd. So did he. I just hope the card was enough of a glass slipper. What I really wanted to say, was you got me. Hook, Line and Sinker.

What happens on the Silva....

Stays on the Silva.

It was so much fun, I"d do it again!

Maybe more to come later.... if you notice me online, call or message. These are the stories that need to be told in Turbo Tracy Speed. You'll appreciate them more if you can hear them. Honest.

Today

Today: A Trilogy in Five Parts

Never send a vegetairan to buy meat.

Today I had to find some lamb at the Superstore, it wasn't pretty. I went to the back wall near the butcher counter, and sure enough, there was a section that said "Lamb/Veal". The first thing that popped into my head was a quote from Sex in the City: "You're ditching me for a piece of unethical meat?" No worries, task at hand: Purchase 2 pounds of ground lamb. I see Ground Chicken, Turkey and Pork, but no lamb. After staring befuddedly, I figured I should ask someone.
"I'll use a lifeline please, Regis. I'd like to phone a friend."
Gregg picked up after one ring. The million dollar question: Is pork the same as lamb?
"Lamb is actually from a lamb, pork is a pig". Good point , I'll ask the butcher where to find gound lamb. It's a little to the left of the pork, I only noticed it after he pointed it out. Good thing I didn't ask him if Lamb was the same as Pork.

The Rebound Crush

It's been over a month since I've seen him. I'd tell you how I know that, but you don't need to know. Or do you?
I'm fine with it though. Except now I endure all sorts of teasing when I go to the Superstore. And now it just has practical value. And you know what i realized? I think he was a rebound crush. I'm officially infatuation free now. Footloose and Fancy Free.

Caution: Culinary Goddess at Work

The rings are the first thing to go. Next it's the watch and any of the other appedages adorning the upper half of the body. Hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail. Clothes are changed. Tank top to withstand the heat. Pants are either pajama or Yoga. Nothing that gets worn out of the house often and certainly nothing that would be a great catastrope if stained. Feet are bare. Maybe in some sort of slipper/sandal. Maybe, but certainly not likely. Next step: all outstanding dishes washed. Sinks and counters disinfected, Stove top too. Next step, inventory check and a quick process map of the evening to follow. Vegetable prep first, quick and not so messy. Fresh herbs everywhere, savoury spices infiltrating the air. Meat dishes last. Everything ready to go. Sits and waits anxiously for tomorrow -- the day of cooking. All food longing, for the day of consumption.

Knock, Knock, Knockin' On My Door

I'm up to my elbows in Ground Lamb. Rolled vineleaves to my left, meat to my right, and hereI was stuck in the middle with the empty plate i roll them on. The pounding on my door sounds all to familiar and friendly for it just to be ignored. I check the Peep hole, and all I see is a strange eye looking back at me. Greggory King. I ask him if it's him. Tracy Lowe! Let me in. I open the door. He's here for an adventure. I'm game. You put anything that has meat in the fridge. I'll wash up and change. Done. 3 minutes later, we're adventure bound.

Welcome to the End of the Universes

Only clean up left. Cucumbers marinating for the Cucumber/Yogurt Salad. Lamb Vineleaves, stuffed, and flavoured with fresh mint, parsely and cinnamon. Parsely chopped for the tabouli salad. Fresh lemons are on standby, as is the tomato and cucumbers. Two worlds will collide tomorrow. And we will never tear them apart. But tonight, my fridge is a restaurant. At the end of the Universe.

When i'm an old lady...

Today I was walking down the hall chuckling to myself. I'd tell you why, but then I'd have to kill you. I can solemnly swear, there is a good chance I'm up to no good. I get so excited sometimes there is a little skip in my step and maybe even a hop and a jump.

So it got me thinking to when I used to vounteer on the geriatric wards at the hospital. Most of the patients were alzheimers patients who were very sadly very out of it. They would tell stories to themselves, talk to people that weren't there, and yell nonesensical things.

Today, I felt like an Alzheimers patient. I chuckle to myself, sing to myself and basically add a dramatic flair whenever possible to keep myself entertained. I might not be entirely there yet, but I'm well on my way!

It was one of those days where although I only had one large coffee early in the day, I could feel adreline pumping through my veins. Unable to sit still, unable to focus, unable to take things seriously. I spent a lot of the afternoon eating popsicles and licorice. I think it might be time for me to detox from coffee and sugar..... gulp. Maybe tomorrow.

First Day Jitters

Today was the first day of my new job.
It went quite swimmingly.
I was a little out of sorts because all of the footwear i felt like wearing was inappropriate due to the torrential downpour of Halifax. I finally settled on the red polka dot rainboots for walking, and Birks to change in to. No, I was not happy with this, it didn't fit the mood of today, but I figured I'd have to make it work.

So the job: AWESOME!
I have more responsibility than I realized. I think i"m going to like it. Essentially, I am the 'go-to' person for the IWK. The other two people in my office are the regional co-ordinator, who looks over all the sites (i think there are 9 across the province) , and the actual program leader.
The people I work with seem really great. Granted there are only three staff and some volunteers. They're open and receptive change. They want to give me ownership and allow me to develop the program. I'm excited.
Speaking of exciting, I also have my very own desk (except the new office furniture isn't here yet, but it's on it's way). They ordered me some basic office supplies and told me to feel free to look through the catalouge and order what i need. What i need!!!! I'm thinking paper trays, highlighters, pens... mine! all mine! And i have a phone. It has voicemail. I think I'll go practice sounding professional and recording a greeting.
I think I"m really going to like it there.

I'm 1952 and looking for a fight

In Burnaby, BC, a man recieved a coupon for a 7 day trial to a local fitness gym. He goes to make use of this, but he is denied. The problem? The Gym was Just Women Fitness Centre. The receptionist denied him entry. He thinks it's unfair that he can't join. Now, he's trying to change this.
In the interveiw with CTV news, he states that he feels he is being discriminated against. He is a construction worker and feels that the stereotypes of construction workers should not be imposed on him-- he's not like that. He just wants to find a gym so he can get into shape.

Arguably, women's fitness centres do discriminate against men. However, I don't think it's unreasonable, its stated in the name that the service they provide is for women.
What i find the most disturbing is that the gym he is trying to join is specifically for women. No one has denied him access to a co-ed facility. Women's centres have a very specific clientele: WOMEN.
Buddy came accross as arrogant and annoying. He wants to join this gym to prove his point. I don't think he has a point. Maybe someone should point him in the direction of a co-ed facility and tell him to cut his losses. I wouldnt want him at my gym.

The Dreaded Day

I used to want Dreadlocks in my hair. My hygenic side though, enjoys washing my hair. Once, sometimes even twice a day. I could never hack the dreads.

On the 6:00 evening news, they showed someone who has had dreadlocks in his hair for 15 years. The shaved them off.... it was a fundraiser. My thought: GROSS. I wish you could get the visual, because the news crew focused in on what had to be a 2 foot long clump of hair. It was taken from close to his scalp. It was a 2 foot long mess of hair, that maintained its matted shape. My thought was that whoever was handling that should definately have gloves on. Definately.

bass player kind of girl

It was the perfect 'rainy Saturday afternoon lets meet for coffee' kind of outfit. And when she saw the company, she was glad she was sporting it. In the ultra-trendy stainless steel world of Carlitos, the black ultraflat boots with pink stitching were a perfect match for the medium denim washed jeans, cropped with a cuff and a pink stripe down the side. Black t-shirt, nerdy dark burgundy half glasses, mascara and lipgloss. And a look completed with a fabulous purse. It was effortless, or so it appeared. Geek meets chic. And that's the way she liked it.
Her friend smiled as she approached the table. Two pairs of eyes looked up from a chess game. One the friend she had gone to meet, the other, the friend of the friend. One hand extended as eyes behind glasses and curly hair, joined with another hand, dark rimmed glasses and curly hair. Names exchanged casually with the usual, nice to meet you. It really was nice.
The chess game continues while the third party drinks her coffee and flips through a newspaper unsuspectingly. The games intensity is broken by laughter and sporadic conversation between all three parties. The worry of feeling like the third wheel is gone. Small talk, coffee, games and reading.
Coffee cups empty, other engagements to attend. Other plans made. Smiles, see you arounds, and it was really nice meeting you. Said once. more.

Their Own Drummer

The meditation music flowed harmoniously as the Aussies took the stage. It was the perfect winding down. The sun sinking slowly towards the harbor while the cool evening breeze encouraged the warmth of another’s touch, or maybe even a sweater. We stopped to watch the band. We were awed by the didgeridoo. The band played on and did what they did best.

As per usual, I scanned the crowd that had gathered in front. And that's when the performance really became alive.

Stage Left :
Birkenstocks placed carefully to the right, sitting on her knees. Some sort of a coat or blanket protected the bare legs that poked out from under her patchwork skirt. Her arms found some sort of rhythm. She moved, from the waist up, to the beat of her own drummer. The gestures were large and sporadic, the movement less than flowy. This girl was obviously in a world of her own.

Stage Right:
His long scruffy hair was in a low pony tail. The look of that made his beard a little more bushy. His shirt was long, a pull over shirt with a low neckline and strings. The thin beige cotton flowed to the loose cotton pants he was wearing, also in beige. The look was straight out of the late 1960s. His dance flowed like the clothes he was wearing. His movements large, but flowing one to the next. His dance was a combination of yoga and tai-chi.

Stage Right and slightly behind:
Hello, the 80s called. They were wondering where you went. Gray shirt, light denim jeans. hair long, but short. Curly. Greasy. In need of both of a cut and a wash. He taps his feet. And then, he spots her. The dancing girl at Stage Left. He points her out to dancing boy. With a little coaxing, he gets him to dance over to her. The spotlight is now his.

While dancing boy is talking to dancing girl, dancing greaseball is busting a move entirely of his own. 1980s Michael Jackson style. Complete with grabbing of crotch. Busting a move, spinning, twirling, jerky movement combined with an "I think I’m sexy" attitude.

Back to Stage Right:
Dancing girl won't leave her place on the ground. She rejects the chance to dance it up with dancing boy. By this time I'm convinced she only moves from the waist up. Holy crap though, did she ever give someone a lesson on dancing on the floor.

Dancing boy returns to stage left, unphased, still dancing. 1980s MJ wannabe twirls, spins and busts a move. Girl continues dancing on the ground. I walk away as the band plays on.

Cruising

Wanna know a secret? Okay, but you can't tell anyone. NO one! Next week, I'm going on a speed dating boat cruise. I just sent in the registration. The damage is done.

This all transpired because I saw it in a movie, and thought that it would be fun to try. A friend from work called me on it, and next Thursday night, I"ll be cruising the Tall Ship Silva. Cruising the waterfront, cruising for men. Stay tuned for the post-Thursday blog, because you know there are going to be some good stories from that evening!

Tea for two

I sat down next to her as she stayed late to finish something on the computer. It was now 3:30, I had just finished my shift, hers was done at 3.

We'd both spent the day feeling slightly under the weather. In our respective departments, we coped as best as we could, complete with the usual smiles, jokes and of course, the desire to be overly helpful. At the end of the day, I was exhausted and hungry. The ride home was an offer I considered refusing, sure it was hot, but the walk would do me good. The chance to have Sushi with a friend was an offer I couldn't refuse.

After much debate, we decided Ko-Doraku in the bottom of Spring Garden Place. Finding parking was not as big of a challenge as we expected. Happily we head towards a favourite lunch spot. The lunch hour long gone and the dinner hour fast approaching. Anxiously we arrive in front of the restaurant, in unison, as if on key, there is a huge gasp from both of us. And then the devastaed proclamation of "Closed". The kitchen staff looks on nochalantly, waves and offers no consolation to two very hungry people.

This is really just a pebble in our shoe, the actual sit down Ko-Doraku is just up the street. We leave the car where it us, and anxiously trek up the road. Closed. Next stop: Sushi Sige, neither one of us has tried it, but have been curious to try it. Closed.

By this point, the hunger and heat exhaustion as well as repeated dissapointment is starting to get to us. Three restaurants later, we're frustrated.

It's now getting close to 4:30. The post work, post feeling miserable was leading to present tense hunger and need to re-energize. Apparently the planets were conspiring against us.

There was one last effort. Anxiously, we venture towards Barrington St. We stumble in to Momoya. The daily specials are too tempting to refuse. We sit down, and begin the meal with Green Tea for Two.

Hopelessly Devoted

Some friends tipped me off to a word puzzle game : Playbabble. Essentially, it's a cross between Scrabble and Boggle (I almost typed blogger!). There is a board of letters, and the object is to make as many words as you can, but the letters must be connected and there is no using the same tile twice. It's a challenging game. People write and give each other clues. The puzzle is open for 24 hours. The number of words you can expect to find in the puzzle is posted. I've currently found about half of the words in todays puzzle. I"ve been playing so much, I've been neglecting the beading business.... and I have orders to fill for tomorrow!
On a side note, I also went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory tonight. I think i liked this version better from the original. It strayed a bit from the original, so now I'm curious to know which one is closer to the book. Anyone have a copy I can borrow? In any event, it was funny. Except no one in the theatre, besides my roomie, laughed at what I thought was the cleverest and wittiest joke in the whole movie. I think it's nuts.

Back to beading....

Do Not Be Alarmed

Tracy would like to interrupt her regularly scheduled stint of beading to bring you this new post. Being previously uninspired she feels she may have let her readers down. Her profuse, and perhaps profound, apologies. Having recieved one comment this evening, She is excited, exhilarated and perhaps even ready to write again. Perhaps.
Surprisingly enough, there have been no catastrophic mishaps to write about. Aside from the usual clumsiness and the lovely array of beads that broke when she tried to balance a shot glass of beads on two fingers, while rummaging through beads spilled on the same palm of her hand that was balancing the glass. An accident waiting to happen. Boy, did it happen.
On other notes, the plan for the evening has been foiled by the weather. As Tracy prepared to put culinary genious to work in the kitchen, she was pretty sure she was going to melt and/or expire from heat exhaustion. Thus the mission was aborted immeadiatly.
And so ends the update of the happenings of Infamous Tracy Lowe, who today just wants to blend in (except for sticking out in a new silk skirt).
Ten Four.

ummmm

It's so hot in my appartment right now. Finnigan is lying on the floor, he's on his back with his paws in the air. It's pretty funny. I'm lying on my couch, wearing the least amount of clothing that I can bear. Now before you get worried, imaginative or grossed out, I should inform you that this means an excercise tanktop and some pajama capris. Nothing more. Nothing less.

So the pressure is on for me to not only write a blog, and post, but for it to be funny, witty and charming. Some days I can hack it, (or I like to think that I can), and somedays, I can't. I'm thinking today is leaning towards can't.

I ran into Joan (Hi Joan, i know you're reading), today in Emerg whilst i was there delivering a chart and showing off new Toronto silk skirt. She begged me to blog because it's been a while, or a weekend, whatever. She said she was bored, and kept checking to see if I had written yet. She also told me that when she couldn't sleep at 5 am, she checked my blog to see if i had posted recently. Does that mean my blog has a sedative value to it.... Doctors everywhere will have to stop prescribing sleeping pills. No one will need them anymore.

So here I am, babbling, with hopes of keeping Joan entertained, and maybe even a few others along the way. I'm bored out of my little tree and I can't think of anything to write. I'm still trying to put the weekend into persepective. I had a great weekend, full of overindulgences. I'll see if I can get you a story of preprosterous ponderings later. I've got a whole lot of beading to catch up on.

Basking in Buskers

They're back.
I love the Buskers. Today, i went right after work. Which means 7 hours ago, I finished an 8 hour shift. To the delight of my cats, I have just returned chez moi. It was a night well enjoyed.... Buskers, Beer, Food, Beer, Buskers, home.... how could it not be fun?

So after watching people do all sorts of crazy stunts.... acrobatics, martial arts combined with acrobatics, fire limbo poles lower than i've ever even seen anyone limbo, I wonder how? How does someone figure out how to execute these stunts and get good enough at it without hurting themselves? For me, it would not be possible.

The last show we watched tonight was a fire dancer from Australia. I want to be a fire dancer. I tried once before, and it didn't work out so well for me, I think i might try it again, but i need someone to teach me. Maybe I can find a busker who is looking for an apprentice

Wandering and Wondering or Wondering and Wandering

Today, no one had any expectations of where I should be. Or when I should be there. Well, Maybe my hairdresser expected me, but that was scheduled as to my own desire. So I wandered around the city. And what better a wandering activity than wondering. Wandering aimlessly leads to wondering aimlessly. Both are equally important in a day well enjoyed and well spent.

I didn't come up with anything conclusive on my voyage (in both senses of the word!). Well, maybe one thing. And I'm only telling you this secret: I'm in Love with Bruce Springsteen. I wrote a big long paragraph to tell you more, but I can't-- I don't have the right words. All I can say is buy the CD Devils and Dust, your ears will thank you. and Back off! I loved him first!

Good morning, Sunshine

It was definatley a late afternoon kind of bench. The fact that I found myself there in the late morning sunshine felt like a kind of betrayal. It wasn't time for that Bench, I knew that. Clutching my morning coffee was a betrayal to a bench where I usually sit after work with an ice cream or bottle of water while enjoying the trail end of late afternoon sun. The tree that the Bench is under provides little shade from the bright rays that like to end the day on a happy note. At 5 pm, the Bench has full sun on it. At 11 am, it's adequately shaded.

I notice a difference in the park at this time of day. Just behind the Bench, a gardener is tending to the grass. The scantily clad tree provides him with enough shade as he grooms the grass and flowers to the perfection that at a glance could go unnoticed. I wonder if he knows that I notice.

I take my coffee, and keep walking. I'm looking for a bench with full sun on it. One meant for coffee drinking and people watching. I'm looking for a late morning kind of bench.