Thanks to the whole cyst/health crisis, I feel like my life has been paused in most senses of the word, since mid October when this all started. There's a week of my life where I can't tell you who I talked to, what the weather was, and all I remember is pain and that I'm kinda traumatized by the surgery. And a total breakdown emotionally in the ER, when I realized I was the ONLY person sitting there waiting who was alone.
Now that the end of this crisis, at least for now, is near... I guess I feel like it's time to start dealing with non-cyst and work-related issues.
I remembered, Friday, that right before all of this flared-up, to use the medical term, I went to get my tarot read (feels farther away than Waskaganish... I've been in some sort of time-warp this Fall). I was told I had a choice to make. I haven't been in limbo, or though about this, since all of this started, but it's something that maybe it's time to sort out and act on.
Stay or go? Not a new question. Basically the guiding question and overarching theme of my life. I'm happiest when in constant motion, and surrounded by NEW. Am I built to stick it out in one spot? Stability and permanence scare me. But I saw something I want in Easter, and when I got back in July. As to whether it wants me or not is maybe the only reason I haven't actually answered this question.
1. A nervous habit I have is: I chew around my nails, and I tune out awkward situations by becoming an anti-social iPhone addict. 2. Something that makes me sad is: knowing I'm someone's one that got away. 3. Today I am thankful for: my puppy, faithful Friday night companion, Kito. 4. My favorite room in my house is: none. I want my Northern house on the sea back. Sunsets, Northern Lights, teepees, air, space, trees! 5. I can't stand: not knowing. 6. If I had an extra $100 to spend on whatever I wanted today I would : buy winter tires. 7. The last person I hung out with was: Tanya, on Tuesday. I've got a hermit life going on, I know.
Marking, marking, marking.
I feel bad for Kito, but if I ever want to get out of this backlog and keep on top of stuff, I'm going to have to start staying at school til sundown.
Am contemplating a roommate. Ideally just for a few months, but we'll see. Will likely post an ad on Kiijiji. Danger?
November is a month that I really honestly wish we could fast forward through. Grey, bleak, devoid of any qualities, really. Depressing one could even say, especially when coupled with the smell of hospitals, as is my life these days.
I had a chance to return to my old love-hate relationship, the North, in January, which I turned down. But, I must admit, it almost pushed me back into my old nomadic ways, significantly less than 6 months after making the major decision to attempt to be sedentary for at least a year.
I miss the coming and going, the flights, the airport, the being different from everyone else, the feeling of living something a tiny bit extraordinary on a daily basis, no matter how boring or mundane life in the North can be certain months of the year. I miss being able to live on my own, but have everyone I socialize with within walking distance. I am, by all means, bored and lonely, just in a different way than I was in James Bay. This one is more November-y, less exciting. Likely a consequence of my here-and-there last 10 years.
I really should invest in a roommate, financially and sanity-wise (Kito, despite all his qualities and companionship, doesn't speak English nor does he foot any of the bills or chip in for rent. The puppy is, essentially, a touch of a freeloader). Sidebar: I will start posting on Kito's Adventures and Mis-Adventures soon, as they tend to occur quasi-frequently these days.
So why DID I decide to turn down Mistissini to take a fairly-crappy position, and live here in Laval?
Partially fear. Fear of the consequences of leaving for another year.
Partially it had been a wonderful/horrible too fast/too long year, and I wasn't quite ready to commit to another
roller coaster of a year (dear 2011: you have not been kind 3/4 of the time. Please tell 2012 to be more kind).
Partially to do my M.Ed, which seems increasingly un-important to me.
Partially to score a better job for 2012-13.
Partially because I felt something when I came down for Goose Break, that I thought had the potential to be something. It ended up with me getting hurt and confused, as is the norm. Despite assurances that it wouldn't.
Partially because I didn't understand the consequences of leaving for a year.
I thought I saw a sign Somewhere bewteen the lines Or maybe it's me, maybe I only see what I want
I've always had a bit of a love affair with anything kitsch, neon, and reminiscent of the 50s.
Lately, I'm on a mission: to start hunting down the items needed to eventually have a 50s kitchen.
Ironic on so many levels, I know.
I managed to score an owl that is all sorts of awesome for 1.99 tonight. Said Owl's twin, found online: http://www.kaboodle.com/reviews/vintage-owl-napkin-holder-retro-yellow-napkin-holder
I'm back in the city, after a lovely week in the North. Not as far north as last year, but far enough considering I had to survive being the only teacher on a schoolbus full of hungry cranky teenagers to get there and back!
I feel significantly more hardcore wilderness after this trip. I've always claimed to love camping... however, this past week was my first ever experience with this thing called "real" camping, aka backwoods canoe camping. We had to paddle for 2 hours to get to our campsite, which for services had: an outhouse, a fire pit, and an odd looking metal structure for hanging up your food so as to keep the bears and wolves and such from your tent. No showers for a week. Wet, wet wet weather. 30 minute paddle across Lake Wapizagonke to the other camp aka where the other teacher was.
Yeah, that's right. I can rough it and be super responsible.
Working nonstop. I guess I got used to a tiny amazing class last year. And used to the Northern 3.5 day work week, what with constant ped days and cancellations. And the Northern laid backedness. And a teaching load that basically consisted of 3 courses to prep.
Readjusting. Working like crazy.
Also working on research for my non-profit I'm hoping to start. The goal is to have applications sent for funding by the end of next summer, and to have the project up and running in the North by the start of the 2013-2014 school year.
Heading off the La Mauricie National Park for some canoe-camping in the wilderness (portage! animals! no bathrooms!) next week with some of the students. Should be awesome :)
Scenes, and reality from the North.
I wish more artists would do this.
Ever since I spent a year in the North, I'm amazed by how ignorant and unaware most Canadians (myself until I went there, included) are as to what reality is in the North, and on the rez.
The scenes that I miss seeing. A reality that more people need to be aware of. Not just residential schools and their effects, but the educational apartheid, the third world aspects that are present in our own backyards, the exploitation that's planned, particularly in Plan Nord (damn you, Charest)
Late summer in the North was my favorite time.
Super nostalgic.
Survived first day of classes.
Oh, to be on this day in 2010, when everything was new, travel, and adventure (I Do NOT long for January, I assure you)
I just discovered a batch of gorgeous pics of Smokey Hill I never uploaded, anywhere, on my old cell phone. When I get down to the Townships and pick up my memory card reader, will edit it.
Estimated time of arrival: 8:05 AM
Minutes spent on lunch break: 20
Minutes spent held hostage in staff room by giant spider: 8
Current time: 1:45.
+: First month of Sec 1/11 History and LA is planned.
I now work at a school with a functioning photocopier. Movin' up.
Rearranged books on bookshelf in an organized, functional manner
Disposed of giant container of used syringes discovered in my desk
No more science stuff or old beeshives in my classroom.
Giant spider did not attack me.
Finally know what to do first few weeks of Ethics class.
Much Moccasion Joe coffee consumed.
-: Aforementioned bookshelf collapsed, spewing forth books everywhere.
Giant spider is on the loose.
Am blogging instead of working.
History 4? Not planned. Stressing stressing stressing.
Cannot figure out what to do in first Media V classes.
Have yet to write 5 sets of introductory letters to parents.
This is Waskaganish weather.
People can complain, comment, be in awe all they wish to about the rain and wind formerly known as Hurricane Irene all the want, but really, this is nothing. Actually, it's evoking memories of October and November in the North last year. In Waskaganish, when storms blow off the Bay (which is, in the aforementioned months, pretty much every few days), it rains from the ground up.
On another note, I've been contemplating changing the blog title and URL. I mean, I've returned to my overly comfortable ho-hum Southern existence... 2 months ago today. And while Laval and Oka are, arguably, to the north of Montreal and the Townships... it isn't QUITE the same, one could argue.
I always find something depressing about the first in a new home. It might be the mountain of boxes to unpack, the furniture I need to buy, the paint job my fixer-upper desperately needs...or perhaps it's the complete lack of memories that the place holds?
Last nights in a home are somehow less depressing. Not to say that leaving both Waskaganish and Lennoxvegas weren't slightly heart-wrenching last nights, but at least there are, amongst all the boxes, happy times to reflect back on.
I hadn't bothered opening any of the boxes that returned from Waskaganish until tonight... it's an odd feeling, sifting through pieces of a life you recently left, and finding stuff waiting for you....
Now, if I could only find my toilet paper and my blender.
For now, the blog title/URL debate remains unsolved and I'm opting for status quo. I will, after all, be heading back to James Bay for a visit sometime in the next 10 months, and I am debating a move to Kuuj in the distant but rapidly approaching future.
Summer is gone, and I'm sitting in my brand new classroom, 15 hours closer to Montreal this time.
I'll be honest; in the last week or two, I have actually found myself missing the North. I miss black spruce trees, a house with a view and space around it, I miss tides, and Rupert Bay sunsets, and real rivers with real rapids. I also miss my sec 5 students. The smell is much better in Waska than in Laval.
Enough of that!
I'd love to claim that my summer was full of adventures and triumphs and such, but so is not the case. Coming home, after living in such a small bubble, both in the metaphorical and physical sense, I found my comfort zone to be much smaller, geographically, until I took off to Toronto for vacation. Slow to start, but quick to finish, I guess, can best describe the season. Get your mind out of the gutters....
On a personal front, well.... I'm somewhat retarded when it comes to certain situations. Retarded as in slow. Possibly mentally handicapped. Had I the guts, I'd make some dramatic gesture to set things straight about where I stand/feel re: someone. I am, however, much more of a chicken.
My souvenir of the North has grown expontentially but has stopped chewing (Kito, not a tamarack goose).
In less than 24 hours I'll be home.
It's over.
I stopped counting down in the last week, and had that "just a little bit more time, please?" sentiment that inevitably strikes me, regardless of whether the experience is great, horrible, or somewhere in the ho-hum middle.
I feel a tiny little tinge of regret that I decided to leave a day earlier (oh, with all the packing I feel I have left to do, this feeling grows!) and that I should have left with everyone else. But, alas, when I wrote the date on the paper, after much debate, I felt a day at home would be more... appreciated. That was, of course, with going to Mistissini in the fall. Which I am re-evaluating. The longer I'm farther, the less chances of getting the job I want long-term, closer.
Anyway, I was diverging.
I'm sitting here on my couch in my living room on Nottaway street on the banks of the Rupert River, for one final time. One final blog post from the North. (Yes, the blog URL and name will need to be changed in due time). Even if I head North again, it won't be here.
It's an odd feeling, leaving for good. There's a certain finality, that I've never experienced before. I will not come here again, most likely. I won't see these sunsets and people ever again.
It was a year experience of ultimate lows. I leave happy to go, and desperate for employment in the South, yes. There were some good points, though. I had an amazing class. I met a few good people that taught me a lot. I found love (and subsequently lost it), which I find hard to deal with. I think that... sense of loss is coming back, now, in the final hours. it's really hitting home: this isn't at all how I envisioned leaving in June, back in late September. Goodbye forever is nowhere near the happy ending I saw playing in my mind. Hey, I blew it. I know things now I didn't with the infamous M, and I know that, in time, I'll look back with some nostalgic sadness, but that the regret and tears eventually cease. Right now, though, it's still a capital R Regret. Painful. But, you can't make someone fall BACK in love with you. That's the way it goes. I accept that.
Leaving sucks. Especially when leaving to start over new, yet again, in 6 weeks' time, from zero, no matter how things play out.
Maybe, in the end, I could use a little extra time. Goodbyes always feel like they need that extra day, that extra week.
Off to finish the packing.
Goodbye, Waskaganish. Thank you for the lessons, the love and heartache, and the good times. And the many bug bites. I leave you wiser, sadder, older, thinner, calmer, and more mature than when I arrived in late August.
So, it turns out there ARE things I will miss here.
-Landscapes. Despite the fact that it's flat, I've grown to appreciate the rows of black spruce and tamaracks (even if, up close, both are rather homely unfortunate trees, aesthetically speaking).
-Proximity. In the sense that everything is next door. (Civilization, however, is anything but proximate).
-The long, long days. Midnight sun.
-Northern Lights
-The amazing Rupert Bay sunsets
-Living waterfront
-Watching high and low tide from my deck
-Having a house with a yard
-My students
-Some people I met here, who are amazing. There are, alternatively, quite a few horrible people concentrated here.
-That great needly tree smell that so reminds me of Maine (ahhhh, soon)
-Sunday Brunch at the Lodge
-Jacobs' Italian poutine
Yes, leaving IS hard to do.
I won't miss the bugs, the dark, cold, boring winter months, or the crazy white teachers.
Mixed feelings. Waiting to figure out what the next step is. I have a feeling I'll be back as a visitor someday....I also have a feeling that the few people I met here that really, truly matter and count are people I will cross from time to time.
Off to finish packing, saying goodbyes tomorrow, flying out Tuesday.
Goodbyes are never easy, no matter how long you've been counting down to them.
Especially when you will likely never see most people or the place ever again.
It's a weird feeling, saying goodbye to the view from the porch of my house of the coast.
Last day of classes, done.
I've got to admit, I'm more than a little sad to part with my students. Who are beyond words amazing. Who are what kept me here, and kept me going when the isolation/Northern winter/relationship issues/school crazyness got to me. My classroom has been my happy place since November 29th.
The last day of classes here is rather... ho-hum. Honestly, you wouldn't be able to tell it apart from any other day of the school year. I suppose being a Wednesday, with most groups having exams tomorrow might explain why.
On another note, exactly 10 years ago today was MY last day of high school classes. I would have passed right by it if I wasn't teaching Sec 5.
It was 5 degrees and may or may not snow overnight. Definately not the beach worthy weather it was a decade ago today. A DECADE. Is that getting to anyone else, or does this sort of thing hit more when you're a high school teacher?
At any rate, I feel a world away from the Cowansville beach (Coco Beach... does anyone still call it that?), MV tennis courts, and driving around in a van singing "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" jacked on iced capps (Timmy's was brand new in Cow town!) on a dollarama run (No Walmart yet!) Maybe it's the distance. I wonder if I'd feel closer if I were still working at MV?
The 1st job offer for next year has arrived! In the North, but not quite so much. 85 km North of Chibougamau... aka in a place where I can go skiing on weekends (as, you know, I'm buying a Lancer at Xmas)
The next stop, perhaps... : http://www.mistissini.ca/welcome.html
Feast= heaps and heaps and more heaps of food of all sorts. More food than any event or buffet you've ever attended.
I couldn't help but notice that in amongst the beaver/bear/goose/dumplings/macaroni salad/whitefish/moose... there was not a veggie to be seen.
I like this food culture.
Ugh.
I haven't written much lately, because I haven't needed to vent about my personal life (and as for work... well, stress overload meant not wanting to vent).
I was zen, especially with the spring weather. Accept, move on, move forward.
And then, of course....
Here I am.
You try to ignore people, you get reproached for being mean. You try to correct it by then being nice.... forget that, you get criticized anyway.
You try to be the bigger person in a nasty conflict.... and then of course, someone has to interject something and ruin that nice zen bubble.
I really just want to scream at someone to butt out. Where do people get this overwhelming desire to meddle? Why interfere? I know perfectly well, without help, that this is one of those conflicts where you just walk away, cut your losses. Sure, there's some awkwardness out of it, but with time here winding down, what does it really matter?
Do I hate? No. Do I despise? A little. Am I hurt and on the defensive? Well, what bitch isn't?
Why should I be the one to accept 100% of the blame, giving someone the satisfaction of thinking they are a victim, when they're not? Why keep getting attempts a civility slammed in my face?
Honestly, it's not a person that I miss being friends with. Nor is it someone I enjoyed being friends with, nor is it someone I would have maintained contact with after the North (there are very few of those, truthbetold).
Someone far wiser than me, having heard the truth (aka, both sides) of this conflict, and knowing both me and The Rat, clearly told me to walk away and cut my losses.
So why on earth am I home alone crying? Because I just got lectured by someone who has a fair share of animosity for me and a hardcore alcoholic? really, though?
I don't really have much to say these days.
I made some ceramic eyeballs at pottery this week. And intend to make some mugs next week.
7 has shrunk to 6; in a month from now I'll be starting my least favorite activity in the world: packing everything I own into boxes, yet again.
25 degrees and sunny.
Summer in the North.
When I got here Monday at noon, the river across the street was still frozen. The breakup happened that afternoon... but the next AM, the ice was far out on the Bay.
SUMMER!
Achoo.
+1 for the North: little or no birch or poplar trees, after one of the worst days of my life down South.
Other notes:
+1 for Air Creebec: they let us skip the security lineup and go straight thru at Dorval after checking our dogs. And then came to tell us personally at the back of the plane that they were safely boarded.
-1 for forgetting there is no such thing as a "smooth ride" on a northern plane, and stowing my Gravol UNDER the plane.
+1 for sitting in the backseat so that everytime the plane stopped and turned off, the dogs would howl as they could hear us 3 feet away, annoying Passenger Donkey
-1 for not getting a chance to tell Security that the Donkey was up to smthg fishy
+1 for the fact my puppy just played DDR.
-1 for getting to airport at last possible minute and not getting a last Timmy's coffee.
Currently located at Cafe St-Michel.
Tanned from skiing on Friday.
In love with Mont Sutton. <3
More at peace with the fact that I'll most likely have to return up North soon, unlike at xmas. Most likely because the end is nigh.
Sending CVs like crazy for the fall. Please?
That's all.
On the road again finally.
Country roads, take me home.
Letting go doesn't mean giving up... it means moving on.
Mistakes I've made plenty of (D, T if either of you ever reads this, which I doubt... you know who you are... I'm sorry).
I am, however, letting go. No more trying to get closure, resolution, forgiveness. Some people aren't strong enough to forgive. (Maybe it's time I forgave someone for a discretion in the fall of 09. Maybe no one will forgive me until I forgive others). If those people aren't strong enough to forgive.... I'm moving on. Maybe time heals all, maybe our paths will cross again in better mindframes, maybe this is endgame. But I'm not trying anymore. My efforts just get laughed at, kicked aside, turned into something negative. Sometimes the punishment outweighs the crime. Sometimes you just have to stop waiting for people to forgive, and accept maybe they aren't capable of doing so because of their own demons.
Forgiveness is the cleansing fire that burns away old regrets and resentments.
That doesn't mean that it's still not what I'm wishing for on my bday. Especially the first of the 2 initials indicated. Losing a friend sucks, to put it plainly.
Celebrate endings - for they precede new beginnings.
So, last week I had the chance to go to Ouje-Bougoumou for 24 hours (minus flight time, I suppose it was more like 21.25 hours). I actually have known of this town's existence since it was created, as my adored Grade 2 teacher took a year's leave when I was in elem, to go teach there. Odd, to find myself there, 20 soemthing years later.
Ouje, officially settled in 1995 (although the restaraunt opened in '94 and the school in that year as well), is the newest of the 9 Cree communities (for now, anyway, as Washaw Sibi is currently being built, near Amos). And is a stark contrast to Wask. The roads are paved, and not sand/mud/potholelakes. No dogs followed me (here, an average walk of 10 minutes entails roughly 10 dogs, if not more). I saw NO garbage, let alone layers of garbage anywhere (I actually saw someone from Public Works picking up a few stray pop cans... what?). Nor did I find myself tripping over empty Russian Prince bottles or Budweiser cans. Granted, it is, at 700 people, one third the size of here. But still. Clean!
Ouje-Bougoumou means "place where people gather" in Cree. And is an urban planners dream (actually, it was a famous one, Cardinal, who was the architect of the town and most of what is in it). I quite literally was going "wow", driving into town. It also won an UN award for being one of the world's top 50 settlements. Again, stark contrast to where I live.... Rather refreshing (and depressing, in a way) to see what could have been, or could be for a community such as this one.
Pics to follow when I'm at home tonight.
I unfortunately wasn't quick enough with my camera on the way into town to snap a pic of the: Stop! Jesus loves you sign (located right next to Mr Layton.... )
Dear readers,
I will be off to Ouje-Bougoumou tomorrow for 24 hours, and thus will not be updating until I get back.
Finally, some exploration.
My world has been limited to 15 km2 since January 4th, and a chance of scenery is needed. Even if I'm trading in one set of black spruce trees for another. And the Bay for a lake.
Pictures and updates when I get back from OJ.
I recently stumbled across Listography, a website dedicated to making lists. Which, for those of you that are like me and love list making, is a great way to spend time on a rainy day. (I long for a pad of the yellow and orange list-making paper we used at IBM. "Don't try to remember it, write it down". Maybe I'll beg my dad to procur some for me).
And I came across the list topic: Things that I define me. For me, personally, I'm defined by experiences, and places. Living in the place and context I have been for the past 7+ months, I realize how defined I am by place, by my environment. When, considering my first BA, makes perfect sense. I didn't just study Environment and Geography, I'm a firm believer in it.
Place, of course, defines how we see the world. It impacts who were are, changes us. We, in turn, destroy the environment. How's that for symbiosis? But, that's not my point (I'll talk environmental degradation later, to anyone willing to put up with it. Vote Green?)
I've been voraciously consuming travel lit this winter. Partially for something to do, partially for reassurance that I'm not crazy at times, partially for the comfort that others have felt this way before me, partially to gleam some wisdom on a lot of this. Partially because I have quasi-grandiose plans to go Kerouac on the Greyhound system this summer.
And, I'm starting to understand something: when you're in a new place, a new culture, especially when cut off from the "outside" world in so many ways such as I am; place impacts you in the sense that it completely turns you upside down and inside out. To quote Susan Gilman in Undress me in the Temple of Heaven, it makes you forget a lot of who you are. React like a helpless baby (mostly inwardly), because, in many essences, in travel such as this, you're helpless at times. Frustrated. She also touched on the idea of imagining emotions, exaggerating connections, to counter the lonelieness. So, I'm not crazy. That's a relief.
I'm craving mountains, leafy trees, grass, drive thrus, driving my car, movement, and the rest of the amenities the outside world features like mad.
So, this is officially a new record. I've been in Waskaganish, without exit, for 3 months now.
I decided to click around Google Streetview for shots of back home. Or the outside world.
Who ever would have thought that home would someday seem exotic, with its leafy trees, grass, and asphalt? It's non-standard issue rez houses, with small cars instead of huge trucks? Neon signs, sidewalks, and large buildings?
A whole different world.
Soon.
Hello, April. Long-awaited month, welcome.
It's warm ("hot", if you ask the kids) and sunny, and SPRING like.
Which is ironic, as there's a 20 cm+ of snow winter storm warning back home.
Which I'm happy with; increased chances of skiing Easter weekend, you see.
Off to ped day/ aka, digging through the avalanche warning mountain of papers that has become my desk/bookshelf/filing cabinet.
Sometimes, things just don't work out between people. As friends, as coworkers, as more-than-friends.
Sometimes, it ends well; sometimes, it ends badly. There is, however, in many cases the uncomfortable feeling of being in limbo until Closure (capital C) is attained. Sometimes, I realize, Closure never occurs. This has yet to occur for me, but I realize that it's just a fact of life. Although, usually Closure leads to new beginnings: peace of mind, a new outlook on yourself or a situation, new beginnings with someone else, or friendship. I'm currently aiming for the last one. As The Fray would sing, Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness.I want my friend back.
In my case, 15 feet separates us in our daily lives. If I really wanted to, I could spy into his kitchen. One would logically assume that such spaces forces and speeds up the closure process. I assure that it most certainly does not. It also does not make the much-loathed Limbo period very pleasant. There's just no hiding from it.
That rambling prologue of limited relevance being done, a thought:
Do you ever have those moments were you can intuitively know and understand what someone is thinking and feeling?
Today, as I was soaking up some sunshine, reading some travel memoirs, and revelling in a 3 day weekend having arrived, there he was. And, suddenly, when I wasn't thinking about the situation, my intuition finally decided, for the first time since I've been in the North, to activate. (Sidebar: Is it possible that when in a new location so far removed from what we consider home, and are accustomed to, our personality undergoes such a severe shakeup and readjustment that our intuition simply goes into hibernation? Or is it spring? Or finally having moved on and realized that it just ain't love? Or was it the fact that I was not thinking about it at all, and doing something that was just purely me, that I'd be found doing at the same time and day were I back home in the south? Sitting in the sun, reading travel lit and daydreaming perhaps allowed my intuition to return?). And I just suddenly knew what that person was feeling. I could feel it in the air, 15 feet away. I could see their feelings about this whole situation. I instinctively understood their perceptions, both for better and for worst. I cannot tell what they were thinking, and I'd be a liar to make any claims. I do, however, understand that closure will, in due time, come. And that it will have to be my iniative, when the time is right.
Ahhh, spring. Normally I have mixed feelings towards spring, more verging on sadness than spring fever. The sad feeling that ski season is melting (quite literally) away, for another 7-8 months. With a tinge of appreciation of green-ness, and of course spring skiing and wearing skirts.
What with James Bay lowlands being flat and devoid of any relief except the occasional tall snowdrift, I'm giddy that it's spring. I just spent 40 minute outside reading (Not Now, Voyager) and waiting (hoping! praying!) for the puppy to produce some byproducts (no luck. Perhaps if I squeeze him?).
The nights are still frigid, but the end of the deep freeze is nigh.
And, of course, with SPRING means 3 weeks off, for Goose Break. And a trip to Ouje-Bougoumou.
It's the winter Carnival here in Wask until Sunday. I just may participate in the town hot dog eating contest on Sunday. And yes, I'll make sure that someone captures the moment photographically.
I am, without out any shade of doubt, a carnivore. Any chances of the idea of eating an animal making me queasy were dispelled today. Upon hearing that there was a dead moose that had been trapped on the weekend being skinned in the Boys Cree Culture classroom, I immediately went to see it. For those of you who have never witnessed such a thing: you cut the hoofs off, peel the skin off, and have a bloody, tail-less moose with blood and guts showing, head still attached. Got a little bit of blood on my shoes, gave him a pat on his head, and then went to grab a bagel as a snack before the bell rang.
I was not as impressed with the 2-year old moose as I was with the 2 beavers 2 weeks ago (who still had their fur). If you own anything made of beaver fur (i do!), the fur trade suddenly makes a lot more sense. That, and beavers are frickin' cool looking animals up close. Giant. At least, the female was. The male was smaller. Which, as I was told, is apparently a beaver thing. Beaver boys like babies with back.
My students decided to invite themselves to my wedding (ha! me? riiight), and have decided I should have my honeymoon in the bush. I tried to explain that single people don't get married, but, alas... a goose feast my honeymoon shall be, apparently.
And then the school caught fire 4th period.
Don't worry, we still had math 6th period.
1. Grocery stores. Particularly Loblaws and IGA and Hannaford. 2. Spring skiing. That wonderful feeling of warm air at the bottom meeting you 2/3rds down, and the subsequent goggle tan. 3. Driving. Especially with the windows down and the volume up. Haven't been behind the wheel of a car sine Jan 3rd. 4. Mobility. Being able to see more than the same 5 km2 over and over for 3 months. 5. Fields. 6. Mountains. Hills. 7. Pavement 8. Choice. 9. Wine 10. Late nights out 11. Animals other than dogs 12. Garbage free streets 13. Thai food 14. Tofu
I've decided to start a 2nd blog, on relationships. Or rather mis-relationships.
God only knows I have more than enough material to work with.
Look for it, coming soon.
After a tantalizing apercu of spring weather for the past week, Winter came back on the first day of Spring. The kids up here tend to laugh when I tell them it's spring; it's just a day on a calendar, up here, what with spring arriving "late April to mid-May". Apparently last year, spring sprung late March (I have pictures of skiing at Bromont mid-March where there was no natural snow left.) This year, it seems, will not be such a fortunate climatic anomaly.
I do enjoy the longer days; the sun sets much later in the North; the sun already only sets at 8 PM. I'm rather excited for March, and particulary the solstice June 21st, as I'll have sunlight to 10:30-11 at night. Reminiscint of June 2006 in England. Ahh, London. Summer 2012, please DO hurry.
Chapters order, sent.
Ordered some travel lit, as I'm planning to go a tiny bit Kerouac across Canada this summer, living on the Greyhound system for a month.
I am aware, dear readers, that I haven't done a proper update (pics and one-line updates aside) in quite some time. Rest assured, there are some recent events and notes on stuff I have been meaning to write about saved in my Drafts folder, and I intend to get to that this weekend (I have a significantly large amount of last-minute work due for my online course this weekend, so this blog will provide the perfect outlet for my procrastination needs, you see).
I had a stomache flu from hell virus, that took a solid week to get over. And now, it's end of term, so I haven't gotten around to turning those drafts into entries. I will this weekend, promised!!
I'm on a mission to 1-clear the rest of my imminent debts 2-restore my car to a point it will last until xmas 3-get a teaching job for next year... in order to go to the Yukon and Alaska in July. The Northern Lights and I have gotten rather well acquainted from my balcony lately. Now, it's time to meet the Midnight Sun.
You are called upon to be a loving master of emotional integrity with your future romantic partner.
The card in the Love & Me position touches on an aspect of how you perceive yourself with regard to possible intimacy in your life.
The Queen of Cups is the archetype of loving-kindness. Therefore, she is imbued with a vital concern for the well being of others, including romantic partners. This is a good thing to develop and practice. At the same time, make sure you don't get carried away and lose track of what is healthy and sensible for yourself. Like a mother, the Queen of Cups is accepting and nurturing, with a natural capacity for bonding.
The vulnerability of openness and empathy are important qualities sorely lacking in today's world. Learn to develop these capacities in yourself, but avoid codependency. Love is ultimately about dissolving boundaries, but not at your personal expense. Feelings of emptiness will do you no good. Know your boundaries and make sure you are not being taken advantage of or relied upon too heavily by your next romantic companion. Express loving kindness, but don't let an intense concern for the welfare of others compromise your own well being.
King of Swords
in the "Situation" Position
There is one who can provide vision and leadership. Take heed and learn to conduct yourself with greater integrity.
The card that lands in the Situation position refers to social or circumstantial factors which could be affecting your life at this time.
The King of Swords is in this position points to someone in your environment who exhibits wisdom and strong principles. Whether it is another person or some higher part of your own knowing, you and the person you would like to be involved with are being directed here to defer to a source of profound knowledge. This third entity could be a wise elder or counselor, one who is able to be clear and levelheaded -- even in emotionally charged situations.
This King of Swords impresses both of you enough that you are willing to trust his integrity, accept his direction, and embrace his wisdom. It may feel like a risk to entrust yourselves to a more cosmic point of view that you are not entirely familiar with. It is a risk you must take, however, because this king represents qualities you may need to develop in your forthcoming relationship(s). Seek out such a king and utilize new insights to re-evaluate mutual goals. By looking at a potential relationship through the lens of the King of Swords, your relationship will establish a stronger foundation rooted in timeless wisdom.
Five of Cups
in the "Challenges" Position
Make the best of what remains after adversity has set you back.
The card that lands in the Challenges position refers to ways that you can turn obstacles into stepping stones.
When the Five of Cups is in this position, maximize what is left after possible loss. The receiver of this card may have received copious potential in the five cups shown, but three of them have been upended and their contents spilled into the earth. Whether it was carelessness or destiny that spilled these cups isn't ultimately important. What matters now is that the two full cups be tended and utilized as intelligently as possible. Resources may be built up and the core value of what was passed on in a relationship can be cultivated again.
You may have this opportunity to make the best of what is left to you after a tumultuous upset. If you sink into depression about what is lost, you may get nowhere. Focus on the value that still remains, and make the best of it as optimistically as possible.
Before anyone points it out: I know that February is, indeed, shorter than its counterparts. 2-3 days shorter, in fact. That disclaimer out of the way, I am pleased to report that amidst all the workworkwork overload, floor hockey bruises, pottery creations, love-related breakdowns, drama, and picking up puppy poop... February went by significantly faster than January, which felt like it was triple its length (93 days, indeed).
So, it's March now. Meaning: less than 4 months left of this year in the North, adventures, learning experiences, heartbreak, etc and all. I'll be home in 6 weeks ish for a 3 week break (I say ish as the exact date depends upon the arrival of the Geese. True story. I capitalized Geese, as they are now very important to me; their arrival in a timely fashion guarantees me a last few days of spring skiing and goggle tanning back home. Dear geese, please be punctual and don't dilly-dally. Dear Southern Quebec friends: please contact me immediately upon sightings of V's of geese heading towards me.)
Winter is a bit more lively up here than the fall period. Hockey tournaments, campfires, snowshoeing, Aashuumiih.... Winter Carnival is sometime mid-Month as well. Guaranteeing that next thing you know, I'll be dedicating a post to the 1st day of my birth month.
I've started clicking around the net, in search (hopes) of job offers in the Montreal, Townships, Laurentians, Ottawa, and upstate Vermont regions, for August. It still doesn't seem important, or real, that I'm actually already planning the post-North life (I do qualify for unemployment at the end of my contract June 29th, so I am debating a nice, relaxed summer if possible). It feels a little odd, taking myself only into account in these plans. If you rewind to my initial reason last fall for deciding to extend 4 months to 10, and get on the tipsy-turvy tiny plane back here in January... and the source of that great feeling of happy, goofy-smiled optimism I was feeling at midnight on New Year's Eve... I do have some.. regret tinging my summer/next year plans. I really didn't think I'd be alone; I thought the SomeOne I still have feelings for would be a part of the post-North life. Now I'm realizing: they will fade to someone I send the occasional MSN message to, as of June. Which kills me, if I dwindle on that thought. So, I don't. Or at least, I try not to.
Thoughts that elicit happier feelings: a summer off, not scraping by on minimum wage looking after spoiled brat coworkers. No night shifts, no early morning wake ups. No manual labour. All the time in the world to sip iced coffees, sit lakeside, rollerblade, enjoy terrasses, enjoy rollercoasters, play tennis, and....catch up with everyone I won't have seen (with the exception of some days here and there sprinkled over 3 brief visits home during the 10 months) in nearly a year. A YEAR.
Should I not find a teaching job by Xmas, I might come back up to the North lands, or head overseas (Korea, perhaps), come January 2012. But that is way too far in the future. For now, the question remains: what am I going to teach in French 3rd Language class tomorrow?
Went to a hockey game last night. As far as life here goes, it was actually pretty exciting. I also felt like I was 15 again, when Saturday night was synonymous with being at the arena. The slush and Jock Jams were present; all that was lacking was a certain Offspring song, the crazy Waterloo lady with the foam finger, and the sour cherry gummy candies we always called "gummy testicles".
I have a nice foot warmer right now... aka, Kito. Who has actually already grown a lot in 2 weeks; it saddens me to see puppy face disappearing.
2 hours, several hundred calories, and a pulled muscle later, im back from the gym. Just blogging to prove I'm still making good on my New Year's Resolution.!
i should be making sure I know what I'm teaching tomorrow. I should be editing and sending 2 assignments off by email to my prof. I should be doing laundry.
But.... I'm binging on 90s teen movies, instead
As soon as Save the Last Dance is done, I'll hit the gym and go in to school for a bit, I swear!!
Now, that is my idea of a good pick-me-up for a Saturday night. Went over to visit 2 of my friends for a girls night. Nothing makes a person feel better more than good food, chocolate beverages, a 90s movie (10 Things I hate About You... c'mon, 90s kids, admit it, you love it) and googling 90s teen stars to see where they are now.
Alfonso Ribeiro (Carleton, Fresh Prince)= Scary
Zachary Ty Bryan (oldest brother, Home Improvement)= has a hot 2nd cousin
JTT (no descrip needed)= gorgeous
Andrew Keegan= scary wife beater.
I realized it's been a year since I tore my meniscus. Dear Knee: I apologize profusely. Ah, craving a Shefford day with some Creme eggs.
After girls night and a "shopping" excursion to Northern, all in all a good day. The blizzard is over, the stars are out, im trying to stay up a bit longer to catch the NorthernLights,should they appear, which I feel they might. My balcony is the perfect vantage point...
Took some pictures of my l'il monster, Kito, which I'll post tomorrow (Dear USB cord... ou est vous?)
Some things we do just betray the fact that we're white, even when bundled from head to toe with no skin showing. Such as going, by foot, shopping in the middle of a blizzard (Geographer's note: The Northern store is located right on the shoreline, making it and the walk there, the windiest coldest part of town. Note 2: I also live in the windy/cold zone on the shoreline).
It was overall a good day. I got a popcorn maker, for a reasonable price. I intend to return and spend 20$ to get a quesidilla maker and ENGLISH version of Trivial Pursuit. Yeah, that's right, we can get English board games here. Take that, OLF (Note: OLF= Office de la langue francaise here in Quebec, colloquially referred to as the Language Police.)
I was remembering that Popcorn song our kindergarten teacher used to play (I had a 45 LP of it at home; was so excited as a 7 year old when I discovered that and the monster mash!)
Off to nap, shower, brave the elements for supper (ok, ok. I'm totally taking a taxi back, just walking there).
First 24 hours of cut off, complete. Still feeling horrible over it; necessary, though, if there's to be any hope of friendship.
This is officially the longest period of time I've gone (6 weeks) without contact with the outside world. Hoping to get out soon; if not, Goose Break is creeping closer. Wednesday marks the halfway point!
Blizzard again, can barely see across the street. Am worried when I take my tiny tiny puppy outside that he'll be blown to Nunavut.
Winter in the North is not the Winter that I love.
I'm watching downhill on CBC, and realized I haven't been skiing or boarding in 5 weeks. A new winter record, bien sur. Considering the amount of snow constantly falling back home (after last winter being a snowless short one), I can't help but keep thinking: if I was home, I'd be skiing now. Followed by a moka fudge at St-Mich. There would be snowshoeing at the Cedars, Becket practices...
Don't get me wrong, I've moved past the I want to go home! crisis; now I'm more at a I shouldn't have come back point. I'm sure when the snow melts, and I get back after Goose Break this Spring, I'll feel differently.
On a random note, pic from exactly a year ago (skiing in an ice storm, do note the ice):
I traded in a lot to come back here. For one reason... yet, why is it I'm just not able to make it work?
Exciting news. After 3 weeks of craving it, a shipment of sour cream finally arrived on yesterday's truck. As did a supply of Creme Eggs. I stockpiled both, seeing as to how who knows how long it will be until more come in. After a month of searching, I also managed to procur a can of Red Bull.
Have been realizing the effects of isolation on me (and other humans) lately, especially after having a conversation with a friend about it. More to follow tomorrow when I'm less fried and frazzled.
I GOT MY MITTENS!! Am contemplating a pair of moccasins, too.
Will post pics of the mittens this weekend. And more Kito pics, bien sur.
I'm watching Jeopardy. I'm a touch freaked out by Watson, just sayin'.
I'm also a bit freaked out by Alex Trebeck's ability to not even flinch and address a machine as a human contestant.
I have a few questions I'd like answered. Could I ask Watson, I would. In his abscence, I decided to ask Google.
Question: What happens if you eat silver?
Answer: You turn blue. Condition called Argyria.
Question: Is my living room wall falling apart?
Answer: Unanswered.
Question: Is the Northern still charging us prices as if there were no road into town, and they were being serviced by barge?
Answer: Yes.
Question: Can I make my own fondue broth?
Answer: Yes
Question: How addictive is Farmville?
Answer: "This game is addictive like cocaine-laced-alcohol-cigarettes."
Question: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck?
Answer: Blair Waldorf.
Question: How do you get over someone?
Answer: You do the following: join the gym, get your nails done, take a weekend trip, get a new hair cut, purge your home and life of anything associated with the person, and completely cut them off- no talking, no seeing, no nothing, for at least a few weeks.
Question: What if I live in in isolated Northern community where none of the above except the first one (done!) are possible
Answer: Unanswered.
What I wanted: For us to start over and really try. Not try to keep going, but to air it all, and actually genuinely try to make it work and to communicate.
What I got: The opposite. It's over.
What I feel: My intuition said it would work this time.
What happens next: I can;t be friends, as much as I want to. I am asking for a housing change. Some mistakes will torment me if I have to look at them every single day. Eventually the feelings will fade, or I'll trick myself into falling for the new guy in VD... but for now, friendship is the complete opposite of what I want, and I just... can't.
Decided to "streamline" my wardrobe, as it doesn't really fit into the space provided where I live, and I just know I'll never get around to sewing, patching, etc some items with some tears. In the process of doing a triage of items (I do need to keep something warm and summerlike for June), I threw out a fair amount of items that I probably should have ditched months ago, or simply never brought. I came across one such tshirt, that would require a fair amount of blue thread, to fix a tear along the seams....and remembered that it was what I was wearing on a particular day in September in which I had no voice, was on a boat at Smokey Hill... and, well... a chain of feelings and events was set in motion, in which I found myself returning here. So, the blue shirt, much like a picture I found while attempting to clean up my inbox on hotmail, remains with me, and not deleted or tossed out in the trash, despite the feelings it evokes.
In typical me-style, I am dealing with all of this by writing out the truth, some key information and details. In the past, this is how I've dealt with this type of situation. How many letters actually got sent/delivered to their addressee? Zero. That's right, they all eventually ended up in the garbage. Fear? No. That's not the cause at all, believe me. I'm at the same place that I went to with those previous guys and letters; debating whether I deliver it, or trash it. Delivering it might not change anything, it might change everything; throwing it out means moving on. Time to do some deep-thinking on what I really feel and want. And to see where a piece of purple paper makes its way to in the next days.
I shovelled using a broom. I really need to invest in a shovel. And a can opener, as mine doesn't work and I'm currently having an epic battle to get a can of diced tomatoes open. Also need a toaster. And a zipper for my winter jacket.
We all know my love of Gossip Girl, chick lit, and chick flicks. (I'm reading Shakespeare and the new Lauren Weisberger book concurently... so there, literary snobs!)
Basically, there is one basic rule to chick lit: in your 20s (eek! I'm in my late 20s now), you live in a crappy dwelling (check! my walls might actually separate from one another), you have more cash outflow than inflow (triple check), and are a fashionable NYC resident.
And it is, of course, on that 3rd point that my life is quite opposite of the image portrayed of this period of life.
I'm going to confess that I miss wearing heels. I particularly miss my flowered BCBG sandals and my "whore boots." I miss sipping drinks out of cocktail glasses. I miss wearing skirts and makeup to work every day.
Not, by any means, to give the illusion of me being that type of girl. Let's face it... I may or may not for the 2 summers I worked on the boat have forgotten entirely on many days to take any form of footwear to work with me, and felt more comfortable wearing Hawaiian Tropic than perfume. And the ski tendencies are far from the urban NYC girl cliche.
But, I find myself, after so many months done and ahead of me of isolate, tiny Northern town life.... craving some form of big city adventure. I'd be lying if I said anything other than: I'm checking out private school job ads near the Big Apple. While I often, what with being gregarious and social, sometimes feel like a square peg living in a round peg in Wask, I recognize that it would be no different there. But I'm craving the opposite of this. NYC is closer to home, less than half the distance Wask is, and triple the accessibility at one third the cost of transport. I haven't been back to NYC since Easter in... 2003. Maybe Goose Break....
Possibly just an idea. Maybe Europe is an option, Korea, or MTL.
It only took me 31 days, but I finally made good on my New Year's Resolution of: in abscence of ski hills to obsessively ski, go to the gym regularly. Day 1, survived.
