Friday, September 30, 2005
The minute I walked in to the room, I felt nervous and grossly out of place. It was definitely a suit and tie crowd. I was in jeans—not even fancy ones. I did have on my blue suede boots and my black sweater with the sort of funky neck that I love, so I felt a little bit more confident. But I didn’t have my fun purse and a good bag is essential to pretending that you belong somewhere.
Later, I would discover that the room was filled with journalists, marketing execs and PR types. I used to want to be part of that crowd. Used to.
The conversation was bouncing back and forth vividly between the colleagues that had formed the circle of ten. There were no stragglers. As I looked around the room attempting to devise a plan of action, two of the men in the circle, stepped aside and broadened it.
The man on my left was clean shaven and handsome in his tailored suit. He extended his hand, and with a firm handshake, he boldly and confidently stated his name. I promptly forgot it. “John Smith, Chronicle Herald”.
I returned the handshake, as firm as I could, and stated as boldly and confidently as I could “Tracy Lowe, Read to Me! Program”.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Today was just like Rex Manning Day!
Except, I work for a Literacy Program – not a record store. Our hero was Sheree Fitch. She’s an authour and poet—not a rockstar. Although, I’d be willing to argue that she is just as, if not exceedingly more, important.
I started my day an hour earlier than usual. Along with my morning deliveries, I promoted the event. Promptly following that, there were books to set up on the table, chairs to arrange, and refreshments. A combination of families and hospital staff gathered in the family room. Sheree sat on the couch to give her presentation and read her stories. She was so warm and welcoming that it felt like sitting down for a chat with an old friend.
I have always wondered about the type of people who write Children’s books. They’re adults, who learn to put their adult self aside and embrace the silliness, laughter and necessity of a good riddle, a funny rhyme, made up words and wonky syllables. They’re adults—who haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be a child.
This morning, Sheree made us laugh. She also got everyone to join in. Sitting around the lounge this morning. Saying “Peek-a-little-boo” and listening to children’s stories reminded us all that all adults have a little bit of child left inside of them somewhere. Some people just know how to tap that resource better than others.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
My Roommate got off the couch and walked purposefully towards the living room window. Without hesitation she lifted the book that propped the window open. Aith the book standing tall the window was open about 6 inches. She laid it flat. Now the window was only open about one inch. The cats looked at it curiously, but truthfully, they haven’t been spending as much time sitting in the window lately. The truth of the matter is we all welcome and love the fresh air. But lately, it seems like it’s gotten awfully fresh awfully fast.
Extra sweaters. Not so open windows. Cold bare toes. Lots of throw blankets and cats constantly curling up with us on the couch. Autumn is definitely here.
“When I hit a rut, she says to try the other parent”
Dar Williams, What do you hear?
My job was always the cooking and cleaning. Dad would spend Saturday afternoon puttering in the house and the garage. I’d go out and offer to help with whatever he was doing, but instead, I was banished to cooking and cleaning. And while I could cook you a delicious whatever you wanted, I did not have an aptitude for tools.
Today, I put all that in the past. Sort of.
I had a CD rack that I was prepared to mount on my wall. I fished out screws and picked a place for it on the wall. I couldn’t make it work though. So I did what any smart girl would do. I asked my roomie to come help me.
Five minutes later, Megan has the cordless drill out. She measures and marks the holes we’re going to drill in the drywall – after we make sure we have drywall screws, of course. She seems to know what she is doing. I feel kind of silly watching her work, so I go back to cleaning my room. I vacuum, while she makes holes in the wall.
After many attempts at drilling an appropriately sized hole, the drywall screws still don’t fit. We hammer, we drill larger. We give up. I vacuum, and tidy.
There is now a pile of crumbled drywall on my table. Still no holes that will hold, still no CD rack. I have given up. I’m waiting for someone to come and do it for me. Because old habits, really do die hard.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
They were missing for about one week and I was happy to finally have them back. I popped them in their case and packed them up for a ride in the car. Something wasn’t right about my glasses. But I just couldn’t place it. They seemed extra dirty. Everything was a big foggy still. Yes, dirty. They needed cleaning. That was it.
Minutes after I had put them on, the sun came out. I switched back to my sunglasses (also prescription lenses) and carefully placed my regular ones in the cup holder of the car. I was driving. There was no way to put them down safely.
By the time we finished our lunch on the patio, the clouds were hanging luminously in the sky. I went to put on my glasses, but this time noticed something peculiar – there was no lens in the right eye. Surely, I would have noticed this before. Surely.
I scoured the car, my purse, between the seats, under the mat. There was no speck of that car we didn’t pat down. No luck. I decide to cut my losses, and spend the rest of the day in my sunglasses. Thankfully, there was enough sun to warrant that.
At home, I was slightly perturbed by the absence of one lens. The next few days were full of visiting and tourist attractions, so it left no time for looking for looking glasses.
A week later, I arrived back from Ontario. Lo and behold, resting safely on my alarm class was my missing lens. I ask my roomie about it, because I knew for certain it wasn’t there when I left. She found it along side the chair in the living room. The same place I had found my glasses on the day I went on the car adventure.
The right lens, never did make the car trip. That was what was wrong with my glasses. No wonder things were so foggy.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
This summer had a different feel to it.
Hot Days. Present.
Fun times with good friends. Present.
Summer job. Present
Beach. Present.
Trip home. Present.
Trip home to see a concert. Present.
Trip home to see the Dave Matthews Band. Absent.
That’s right, absent.
Dave didn’t come this summer. Because of that, I missed the magic of an outdoor venue. The cool summer breeze, the stars, and a Dave Matthews show. That’s the way its supposed to go. But this summer, Dave didn’t come. So I had no where to go.
He just announced it via his email list. He’s coming – a fall tour, who’d of thunk it. December 4, 2005 it is. It will be cold. The Molson Amphitheatre will be closed. It’s only open in the summer. So this time, Dave will take the stage at the Air Canada Centre on a Sunday evening.
I will be in Halifax. I have to work on Monday morning. This will be Dave’s first show at the ACC and I will not be able to make it. T’is a sad, sad day.
I love that he’s coming. But I hate that I’m going to miss it.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
I hate pulling U turns. Hate, hate, hate. I will not make a U turn. Not on a busy street, or on a quiet street. Not at all. I would not, could not on a boat, and I would not, could not with a goat. But For the sake of you, on a not so busy street, on a not so busy Sunday at a not so conventional time of day, I pulled a U turn. You’re welcome.
Normally people scream and shout when the shit hits the fan. I’ve never seen windshield washer fluid invoke such a sentiment of fear in anyone. It was washer fluid, on the outside of the window. There was no shit, and certainly no fan involved. What a laugh. You’re such a nutbar.
Yarr… Shiver me timbers! What say you? Bootstrap Bill be stealin’ my treasure. Someone be walking the plank. I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request. I demand the right of Parler. Ahoy. Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum.
For the record, we did not get into the rum.
If you don’t like girly things like dresses, and are more interested in ‘boy’ activities and interests but you actually like dating men and would not consider dating a woman, does that make you a gay man trapped in a woman’s body? Is this grounds for gender reassignment surgery? Oprah raises far too many questions.
Okay, we’ll put that skirt in the maybe pile. And that one in the definitely pile. That one in the maybe pile. Hmmm, 3 maybes, one definite and 2 nos. I think I’ll just buy them all. It’s unfair to have to make such an important decision on the spot.
You’ve never been to a Starbucks? Are you sure you’re from Ontario? I can’t believe it. You’re a Starbucks Virgin.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
She stood on the podium as yards of champagne coloured lace and fabric draped around her feet. I learned to carefully cross ribbon after ribbon. The attendant in the store watched and taught me the tricks of the trade. I learned from her example, after all, it was me who would be doing this on the wedding day – not her. I paid close attention as the ribbon passed through the eyelets. The process was slow, but I wanted to make sure I had it just right. It was worth every minute, and I’d gladly do it again a million times over. I will be doing it again.
We had seen the dress on the hanger. It was pretty. We had seen the dress on another Bride- to- be. It was very pretty. When we saw the dress on her, she looked so beautiful that it brought tears to our eyes and gave us goose bumps. This is it. We knew.
It was the type of wedding dress I had always pictured Meghan in. The right amount of classic elegance with a bit of a modern twist. It was traditional, but not stale. Decorated but not overwhelming. Every bit of that dress complemented her. The longer she stood in that dress, the longer we knew it was the right one for her.
She’s always been a pretty girl. But I have never seen her look more stunning and radiant in any other dress. And even with the itchy crinoline, I have never seen her look so comfortable, natural and at ease in any other dress. Especially not any other wedding dress.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
I’m not sure what happened, but I lost the road. One minute it was there, the next I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Or the road through the rain. I took the turn too fast. Unfortunately, so did the tractor trailer next to me. I didn’t realize it until he was half into my lane. Which landed me halfway closer to the median than I would have liked to have been. I battled the idea of passing him. Driving next to him, was not a safe option. Then again, neither was passing.
The convoy of eighteen wheelers made me nervous. There was 5 of them, all in a row. I was traveling roughly 4 seconds behind. As rough as one can tell when it’s raining so hard you can’t see the road. One of the trucks started to pass another one, and suddenly, the visibility went from little to virtually nothing. The backsplash of rain coming from the truck in front of me and the truck to my right made it impossible for my wipers to keep up.
I flashed back to my mom’s accident 3 or 4 years ago. What if that happened to me? Would I be so lucky? I had warned her that the roads were slippery when she went out that night. The roads were slippery as I went out tonight.
I’m not usually a nervous driver. But tonight, it felt different. I remembered advice from both my Driver’s Training classes and my dad. Confidence and caution. Find your balance.
As my car struggled to find the twists and turns of the slippery madness of the 401, my hands gripped the wheel at eleven and one. Ten and two has never been quite my cup of tea. But what I really wanted was a coffee. Tim Horton’s would be a good excuse to stop and take a break. There was no Tim’s. Not for another long stretch of dark and rain.
I was finally able to pull back into the right lane. Slower traffic keep right. Oh, I was keeping alright. It was then I took the stupid sense off line. It suddenly dawned on me that 75 KM/hour was a better speed considering the conditions, of dark, wet, windy and reduced visibility. Cars passed me at ridiculous speeds. This time I didn’t care. The convoy of trucks that I had worked hard to pass had begun making their way around me. Each time they did, I held my breath. I felt like I was driving under a waterfall. Or at least through one.
I knew better though. I kept my guard up, eyes diverted from the road only to check the review mirror. Hands on the wheel. Now was not a good time to answer my cell phone, or change the CD.
Finally, Tim Hortons. I’m ready for a break. The rain still pounds down heavily. One coffee later, it’s starting to let up. I signal, check my blindspot, and pull slowly on to the ramp of slippery madness.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
"Hello, hello"
The show started the exact way I had hoped it would.
The crowd was on their feet. The volume of 25,000 U2 fans was insurmountable. We cheered.
"Hello, hello" he said again.
We cheered louder.
Uno, dos, treize, quatorze. click, click clack. Lights, band, action.
Just like that we were off to an unforettable evening.
The band broguht down the house. The energy and enthusiasm of quite arguably the biggest band in our times was incredible. We sang, we danced, we cheered. We almost cried when Bono sang the song for his father. Notably, the only point in the show which he did not have his glasses on. Sometimes, you really can't make it on your own.
The stage was set up in a way that the band could leave the main stage and venture out between parts of the audience. And venture he did. Never before have I seen anyone dance like that at their own show. He was a true rockstar.
His political message came accross loud and clear. Paul Martin's number flashed accross the video screen, as he reminded each and everyone of us that it was up to us to end poverty. One. No War! No War!
That show. That Band. It was my
miracle drug.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Wow, it feels like so long since I've posted. These past few days have been busy. Good busy though. Fun and adventurous. I can't even find the highlight story right now, it's all been fun. So this is pretty much a recap of the past few days.
The long awaited arrival of the Scottish Cousin finally happened on Sunday. With a few mini hiccups, I picked up a rental car and eventually found my way to the airport to find Neil. He's a very patient person. Although, if I'm ever late again, he may never forgive me.
We started Sunday evening with a Ghost Tour of Halifax, a trip to pizza corner, and some late night food and beer at Stayners.
The next day, we departed the city for Peggy's Cove. The piper there obliged to Neil's request for the Scottish National Anthem. He stood proud. We wandered around the cove, ate delicious homemade ice cream, checked out the Swiss Air Memorial and then set out on another car adventure. Since we were already in the car and in driving mode, we decided to drive to Chester for the legendary seafood chowder. It was delicious. It boasted a good selection of fine seafood and a little bit of creamy broth goodness to go with it. We also ate Solomon Gundy. I now understand why the Crash Test Dummies said that Superman was saving the world from Solomon Gundy. After Chester we made a quick stop through Mahone Bay to see the Three Sisters (Churches). We looked from afar, only got out of the car for a few minutes because time was ticking and Lunenburg was high on Neil’s list of things he wanted to see.
We walked around Lunenburg and checked out all sorts of local shops. The view is beautiful. We also visited the grounds of an old school house that’s just incredible. We drove around the town and then walked along the waterfront. It’s such a nice little place. Before we knew it we were exhausted and opted to take the highway directly back to the city.
A whirlwind tour, yes, but with many, many highlights. And many authentic New Scotland experiences for a Scot who has never been to Canada before. After going home to freshen up, there was a quick tour of Dalhousie Campus and then dinner at Saltys. Again, proper Nova Scotian food... Beer, Lobster, and Blueberry Grunt. A ferry ride over to Dartmouth ended the day quite nicely.
Today we flew to Toronto. But before that we did the Harbour Hopper tour and the Keiths Brewery tour. Ate some Beavertails, and checked out the waterfront.
And now here we are, in Ontario. Both of us are exhausted from a jam packed yet incredibly fun two days.
Tomorrow is the one of the biggest day of all though.... THE U2 CONCERT!!!!!
Stay tuned because I'm just getting started... there will be so many more adventures this week! I'm off to sleep.... in what I would hazard a guess to say is the most comfortable bed in the whole wide world. Definitely a highlight of being home.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
The bus stopped and started more times than I really hoped it would. Ding. Stop. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.... someone gets off. Someone gets on.
Thankfully the Number 80 bus can get some decent speed on the highway. Of course, it all depends if you want it to or not.
I didn't pay much attention to the way she got off the bus. As far as I was concerned, she was just one more passenger. Her arms were laden with bags that reflected an afternoon at the mall. As she exits the bus, one of these bags catches in the door. This is the part I don't see.
The bus pulls away from the curb.
Heroically, a man leaps from his seat, starts hollaring at the bus driver to !!!!!!!!!STOP!!!!!!!!
He pounds on the door of the bus (which won't open because the bus is in motion). The poor girl is running along side of the bus -- holding on to her shopping indulgences for dear life.
The driver realizes the mistake immeadiatly. He stops the bus, the man pushes the door open and gives the girl her bag. The Driver takes extra care to check and make sure it's okay to start driving.
The bus pulls away, again. By now, I know I'm not the only one thinking, "Thank God that wasn't me."
I'm sorry folks. I didn't want to, but I did it anyway.
Because of the amount of Spam that seems to be commenting it's way onto my blog, I turned on the Word Verification thingy-bob. (That's the technical term). It will only take you an extra 10 seconds to type in that funny shaped word. And it's keeping me Spam Free. Because we all know Spam is not for vegetarians.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
So today, not so Frantic. A little neurotic, but that's just me anyway.
It was such an exciting day today!!
Here is why:
This morning, I gave out a Read to Me! bag in French. Not only did I hand out a french bag, but I gave the presentation in French. It was GREAT. It was the first time to do the presentation in French.
I ran into Amy who I havne't seen since she went on Mat leave (maybe three weeks ago?). Its funny but it felt like forever. You look so fabulous... so happy! I'm very excited for you.
Got the Car rented for my cousin's impending visit on Sunday. He's coming from Scotland. This is going to be the first Canadian soil he touches ground on. And who better to show him around than .... me!
Funny, yet unfortunate Bus story (which will be written on it's own).
Dinner with all 7 of the MacNeil Clan... what a fun bunch of people! Thanks everyone for a splendid evening. Did a bit of jamming... good times (even, if Kyla thinks I'm classic I'm sure we'll find something we both know how to play) It was great to play a bit of guitar.
I think more exciting things happened in there, but that's the general idea. Right now I'm sleepy... so I'll tell more stories later.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Today was a good day. Work went better than expected, considering all the things I wanted to accomplish today, I felt I got a decent amount of work done. I had Sushi dinner with Sandie. That’s always a good time. Listened to some tunes, looked at some photos, and made some beaded jewelry. All things I enjoy doing. Most of those are even things I do when I am stressed—they relax me. It felt great most of the day, and then I don’t know at what point the wind changed direction. But then it all felt different.
Although I had been caffeine free all day, it felt like I had been drinking coffee for a solid 24 hour period. I could feel the energy fueled by emotion running through me. I couldn’t pin point the emotion, I just knew that it was there. I couldn’t sit still. My head was thinking a million thoughts all at the same time. I feel as if my skin is the only thing stopping me from going in a million different directions. I felt shaky on the inside, and wondered if it was reflected on the outside.
I couldn’t make a decision. I wanted to stay at my friend’s place. I wanted to go home. I wanted to bead. I wanted to play guitar. I wanted to go for a walk. I wanted to start jogging again. I wanted to do all these at the very same time – right now.
Finally, I decided the best thing to do was to go home. So here I am, pajama clad on my favorite spot on the couch with a hot cup of Tension Tamer tea. (Which I still think is a conspiracy, but I can’t afford to take that too seriously). I’m thinking things through, trying to shed the feeling of franticity-- a word I coined all for the sake of emphasizing of my current state of inexplicably frantic.
Tomorrow, I’ll have an hour of free time. Maybe I’ll go walk the
labrynth. And the next tomorrow after that, I will hopefully be back to ‘normal’. Either that, or I’ll be bored of frantic and move on to neurotic. I’ll keep you posted.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
A Tracy Lowe Kind of Walk
Our strides matched each other’s easily and unintentionally. She liked the way her pony tail swung as she bobbed up and down. I did too. It made me laugh. We laughed about it together. We are wise, wise women. We are giggling girls.
The conversation came to a natural pause. The silence was broken by a single comment which caused us both to erupt into a fit of giggles. She said “It’s been a long time since I walked Tracy Lowe pace. I missed it”.
“Really, this is fast? I thought I was slowing you down.”
“Nope, it’s perfect”.
About an hour earlier, there was an unexpected knock at my door. The smile that greeted me is one I hadn’t seen since April. The excitement of the end of the summer brings people back. It felt like forever since I’d seen her. Although now that we were walking Tracy Lowe speed down the street it felt like only yesterday.
Monday, September 05, 2005
The early morning sun meant a world of possibilities. Resisting the urge to think optimisitically about all I could accomplish, I knew where I was headed. I was on a pilgrimmage to find my bed. In my appartment, right where I left it when I went to work in the darkness 8 hours ago.
I walk a little slower than usual. No, not because of
footwear I was wearing, but more or less because of the fatigue that managed to creep inside of me sometime close to 5 am. I was shocked and almost confused about the amount of people up and about. It's a holiday. It's 7:15 am. It just doesn't make sense to me.
Coming head on at fairly decent speed is a jogger. You can tell from the gait and the stride that she's been doing this for a while. I move over a bit on the sidewalk to give her the space to pass me without obstructing her flow. As she passes, she says something too me. I have no idea what, all I can hear is my Ipod. What she said was a phrase, definatly nothing along the lines of thank you. I knew there was more to it than that, but what?
And then I realized, what she had probably said was some sort of warning. About 20 feet ahead, there are a group of people hanging out on the sidewalk. The 5 girls are giggling, and almost screeching. They look tired. Makeup is smudged, clothes are now sporting stains . One can only imagine how mortified they would be if they knew what they really looked like after the night.
It's the boys that worry me most. One of the boys is blindfolded. His shirt is off and no where to be seen. He was leaning against a tree, and then he fell over. His buddy was trying to help him stand up. They're laughing because his friend keeps falling on the ground and is completly incapable of holding his own at this point.
Someone else stumbles out of the house and sits on the steps. Sipping something dark and brandy like out of a brandy glass, he smokes his cigarette in quiet reflection. Watches his 'friends' while taking solice in morning sun, a stiff drink and some nicotine on the run.
It must of been one hell of a night at that party. And more than one someone is going to have one hell of a hangover.
I'm nervous to pass them. The other option is to cross the 4 lanes of Robie Street. Granted there isn't much traffic at this hour of the day, its still a hassle. I assess the situation as I approach. Everyone oblivious to my existence. Oblivious to my judgement. I keep my distance, quicken my pace and steer as clear as possible while walking past. Eventually I look back out of concern to make sure everyone is okay. I'm now removed enough from the situation I'm wondering if someone should call the police to interpret the aftermath of the party.
As I near the corner of Peperrell, I see a police car turning right onto Robie Street. No doubt, I know where he is headed.
I'm breaking one of the cardinal rules of posting. Mind you, it's my very own rule.
As I write this, not only am I eating (which means typing flow is often interrupted), but I'm also at work. Yep, it's 3:25 am and I'm at work.
Thankfully, this night has come to the point it has. Yesterday and the night before, at this hour we were still running around getting things done. Tonight, it's quiet. Normally, we don't use the dreaded Q word, for fear of changing the state. However, I think that really only applies if said aloud. Oh, Forbidden fruit. How sweet the taste.
As I sit under flourescent lighting in a strange environment, it's hard to feel comfortable enough to write what I was planning on writing. And it might be best I save you all from the inner workings of my mind. So I think this is it.
You know, I might consider renaming my blog Seinfeld. Just like the show about nothing. This is a post about nothing.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
My spidey senses are tingling. And from previous experience, that's never a good thing.
So many questions are running through my mind. Who? What? Where? When? How? and the one I hate asking the most: Why?
I don't have answers, right now. I have intuition. And if you combine that with an over-active consipiracy minded imagination, the result is not always a good thing.
If you need me, I'll be preparing for the apocolypse.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
"Excuse me, but what do those words say?"
His 5 year old voice asked me quite confidently. The look in his eyes was hopeful. And there was a grin on his face.
"This story is Pat-a-cake. It's for your new baby brother."
I had just started explaining the benefits of books and the importance of reading to new babies. The parents listened attentively while he just stared at the book in my hand. When I finished showing the features to the parents, I passed it to him. He grinned from ear to ear. He flipped the pages and scanned the words.
He took the book over to his Dad and asked him to read it.
"In a minute, let the lady finish first."
The little boy with blond hair and blue eyes continuted flipping the pages. Clearly, this was a 5 year old who wanted a story now.
I crouched down to look him in the eye. "Do you know this rhyme?" I asked him.
He told me no.
"Can I read it to you?"
Eagerly, he nodded yes. His parents looked at me apologetically as if to say they didn't mean to put me on the spot like this. I smiled and nodded so they knew that I didn't mind at all. In fact, the opportunity was exciting and I welcomed it.
Sure, there were phone calls to make, and emails to send. But for right now, my new 5 year old friend wanted to read a story with me. And everyone needs someone to read them a story once in while. Especially a child.
