Sound of Silence

Today caught me off guard.  Then it picked me up by my ankles and shook me upside down and dropped me head first into a wall of non-productive pensiveness.  True story, I wouldn’t lie to you.

I started to tell you all about it, but there really isn’t anything to say.  There is strength in silence.

Giggling Girls

This Fish is right.  Not this, as in me, but this as in This Fish.  But there really is nothing like a good ol’ fashioned crush to pass the time.

My 45 minute cardio stint left me empty today.  There was nothing to think about, nothing on TV and certainly nothing the distract me from the dull aches and pains and the negative little voice in my head.  I had to do my best to tune into the Ipod, refrain from singing along while letting the bass from the speakers run through my sneakers.

I reverted to an analysis of my day up to the concise moment of thirty seconds earlier when I realized that I still had 15 minutes of jogging to go.  Run, Runaway.
So I relapsed to the standard array of things to day dream about – I’ll spare you the details.  I need some new material.  I’m bored out of my potential family tree.

Three hours later, I’m 200% restored. We are wise wise women, but tonight we are giggling girls.  Because when my friends are that happy, I am that happy.   I love living vicariously.  It’s all about her, but part of me feels like it is my own story.  After I left her, I was walking down the street singing quietly under my breath (but loudly in my head) and dancing in my head.  

And here I sit, imagining her happiness.  Grinning ear to ear at the potential of the unknown.  Eagerly anticipating the next update and carefully planning a strategic retelling of the story in front of all of their family and friends.

Her story is infusing my imagination with hope.  And let’s face it, sometimes, it’s more exciting and interesting to anticipate the lives of your friends.  

Go and get him girl, before he gets you (wink wink).

X marks the spot

I usually make decisions based more on intuition as opposed to knowledge and fact.  So far, I have not suffered any adverse effects to this strategy.  I will admit, there has been some hindsight which has left me thinking “what the hell did you do that for”.  But for the most part, it’s been relatively recoverable losses.  

Yesterday, I knew I was going to vote.  However, until about 4 pm, I was planning on wasting my ballot. This year’s election campaign sent me for a loop. I was not impressed with the constant slandering of the other party.  I know that it is to be expected, but this year it seemed worse than ever.  

A funny thing happened on my way to the voting forum, about halfway there, a little voice inside my head said “I will not be happy if Stephen Harper wins”.  Funny that, here I am, uniformed about the greater issues and promises of the election (and what does that matter? They never stay true to those anyhow) and all of a sudden I know who I’m not voting for.  By the time I took the 10 minutes to walk to my polling station, and waited half an hour in line because I was not registered, I had decided not to waste my vote after all.  My ballot had only one X on it.

I’m told we’ll likely be having another election in 18 months time.  By then, I’m hoping enough to make a little bit more of an informed decision about who to vote for.  As for my thoughts on the results? I’m not too excited about Stephen Harper, I don’t trust him but at this point, I don’t have a choice.  And I’m happier that I actually put my two cents worth in.

Oh, I can do tasteful! Consider that position filled!

Yesterday I heard a rumour that was too good to be true. I don’t even know if I should tell you.  It’s the kind of information I’d rather just keep all to myself.  But alas, it’s not nice to tease you like this.  

As you may or may not know, the Juno Awards are fast upon us.  The fact that the Juno Awards are in Halifax makes it extra exciting.  Even more exciting is the line up of performers for the Junos.  Aside from the usual array of fantastically talented and successful Canadian artists, there is one band I never thought we’d see.  Drum roll please: Coldplay.  Yep, COLDPLAY!  

So I’ve volunteered to help at the event.  My number one choice for a position is as a seat filler.  This is the job description:

2006 Juno Awards Seat FillersYou will need to be dressed tastefully and preferably in black as you will be filling empty seats while nominees, performers and presenters are out of their seats.

How much fun would that be!  Imagine me planning my tasteful, black outfit in order to blend in with the Industry folks!

I did also volunteer to help out with information booths and other areas.  Really, I think it’ll just be fun to be part of the action.  Pick me! Pick Me!

Story of the Day

I stumbled upon this today.

“I like to write about the stuff going on in my life as long as it's interesting, but otherwise, I'd rather just read.” (www.storypeople.com)

Magic

The cursor on my screen was taunting me – as it has been for the better part of the week.  None of the posts I have written this week have lived to tell the tale.  Simply, because there are no tales to be told.

Most of my free time has been devoted to reading this week.  I’ve finally finished the fourth Harry Potter book.  Yesterday, I even had to read with one eye closed and the other eye open…. Whatever it took, I was bound to get to the end of that book.  The next one was waiting patiently next to my bed.  It has a story, it is a story.  And it waits patiently to tell the story that forms a good solid 766 pages of text.

Today, I realized that the ‘rocket’ system that sends stuff to the lab is kind of, in a weird round about way, like the ability to ‘apparte’.  We place objects in the tube, tube is sucked up a tunnel and miraculously appears in another area of the hospital – and on a different floor at that.  All this happens pretty instantaneously.  

And to think, I thought magic only happened in Harry Potter books.  Although, admittedly, the ‘magic’ of the tube system has worn off.  But the Harry Potter books, they’ve got more than a little magic in them.

A Perfect Scandal Beyond Words

My application for a new computer was declined.  Apparently, mine was borderline.  They did decide, however, that it was time to switch me from Windows 98 to 2000.  

The transition was seemingly seamless.  The IT department even performed the update over the holidays when I wasn’t in the office.  Bonus. I didn’t have to make work that didn’t involve my PC.

This morning, I was working on developing a brochure.  I went to open a WordPerfect document, and funny enough, WordPerfect was no longer on my computer.  Yep, gone.

I called the IT help desk, to enquire about this.  Sure, I had Microsoft Word, but sometimes I like to switch it up a little and use WordPerfect.  IT informed me that when they did the upgrade, they didn’t reinstall WordPerfect because they’re trying to discourage people from using it.  

Oh, I am discouraged alright.

Abulia

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted.  I guess I’ve just had nothing postable.  There have been slivers of stories and odd glimpses of pensiveness.  But nothing seemed right.  It all seemed too much or too little and then it inevitably ended up being too late.  Sure, I did think of some things I could write about to humour you all, or to hopefully work on maintaining my readership.  But I wasn’t convinced, I couldn’t narrow it down at all.  One minute it was a great idea, one minute it was an awful idea. One might even go as far to say that I was suffering from abulia.  Actually, one would definitely go that far to say.

Abulia : n: abnormal lack of ability to act or to make decisions.  

“By about two in the afternoon, I feel as if abulia has set in and I just can’t go on without another cup of coffee”.


This was Thursday’s word of the day.  I never knew I could be summed up from a page in my calendar.  Even the sentence they used the word in is reflective of me.  I’m totally going to use this word.  Next time I’m feeling pressured to make a decision, I’m just going to respond with “I’m sorry, I suffer from abulia”.  It almost sounds like a medical condition.  

I am thinking about how to end this post.  This abulia is really getting to me, I can’t figure it out.

Okay Joan, tag team effort.  You’re up in three, two, one……

Two Left Feet

I decided to give the new shoes a trial run at home first.  They’re a titch too big, but I loved them so much I had to have them. I was pretty sure it was nothing an insole couldn’t cure.
I usually wear an insole in the left shoe of my dress shoes.  Naturally, because I have so many shoes, I don’t have that many insoles.  I usually just move them around depending on the pair of the hour.  
After scouring all of the shoes—yes, all, I came to the shocking realization that I can’t find any of the right insoles.  I came up with two left sides, but no right.  
This presents a problem but you’ll be happy to know that in the name of Chinese Laundry Red Mary Janes it’s all worth it.  For now, I’ve got a left insole in the left shoe, and a left insole in the right shoe.  Sure, it’s not right, but in this case, I’m willing to settle for an imposter.  And really, these shoes make for Happy Feet.  And even my good friend Kermie the Frog can relate to that.

Cry, If you want to

We’ve never really seen eye to eye on the issue.  And it’s not just because she is taller than me.

She doesn’t see it my way though.  And I’m not usually so narrowly focused, but this time I know I’m right.  Sorry, but that’s just how this story goes.

So what can be done really? How can you make someone see their world from your point of view.  I guess for right now, I’ll sit back. Wait.  Ears are always listening if you need them.  Until then, I leave you with one thought – You can cry if you want to

It’s no use in keeping a stiff upper lipYou can weep you can sleep you can loosen your gripYou can frown you can drown and go down with the shipYou cry if you want toDon’t ever apologize venting your painIts something to me you don’t need to explainI don’t need to know whyI don’t think it’s insaneYou can cry if you want to

~Holly Cole

Ladies First

I carried my purse in one hand, and a six pack of beer in the other.  The line at the liquor store was long. I joined at a spot that I thought would make me next in line.  So did he.
And depended on how you looked at it, either one of us could be right.  There was a shelf on either side of us.  We both stepped forward and stopped. Side by side. Two by two.
We both hung back, waiting for someone else to break the ice.  
He spoke first, “What happens now?”
“I dunno”
I invited him to go first, but he didn’t seem to have heard it.
“We could have a coin toss” he suggested.
I laughed and said, “We could do that.”
Strange, semi-awkward pause.
“Why don’t you go ahead, ladies first.”
I smiled, thanked him, and moved ahead in the line.  

**********************************************************************

I returned from the basement with 4 bottles of beer. The fridge is always well stocked at my parent’s house.  I offered them around, and then proceeded to open one for myself.  

“There’s a glass in the freezer” Dad said, looking right at me.

Dad always keeps mugs frozen in the freezer.  He thinks it’s the only way to drink beer, I’m more of a bottle girl myself.

“No thanks, I’m good”.

My dad looked at me with that all too familiar look of disgruntlement.  

“I don’t like to see a lady drinking out of a bottle.”

I laughed, returned his look with one of my own.

“Who are you calling a lady?”

But for the record, I had to relinquish the bottle for a mug.  Company was coming, and when in your parent’s house, no matter how old you get, you still have to do as you’re told.

One odd sock

Someone once said “ The river has more colours at sunset than my sock drawer has ever dreamed of.”

She’s obviously never seen my sock drawer.

After the Aftershave

They asked for our blessing.   As much fun as hanging out with a crew of night shifters in the ER was, these RCMP had their own detachment to return to.  They needed to detach from us.  

Before they could depart there were a few T’s to cross and I’s to dot.  I assisted the younger, and definitely cuter officer with the necessary paperwork.  Dutifully, he followed me from the photocopier to the fax machine.  And of course, it was duty that brought him here in the first place.

I attempted to make small talk throughout the painful process of waiting for the machines to perform our requests.  I was distracted by the faint smell of cologne, or possibly aftershave, that lingered slightly while we walked and then caught up with us as we waited patiently for the fax to send.  A smell so familiar, on someone I didn’t even know.  One of my favorite scents that haunted me with memories of you.

Finally, the fax had gone through.  He thanked me for my help, bid the department good night, and then left.  Just like that. Just like you.