Trip to Town, pt. 1!

This weekend I was IN TOWN. Which is the local term for being out of town, in the Big City. (It's a Newfoundland thing.) I went to a concert, and a party, and the mall, and BOOK STORES, and wished greatly for more time, but overall it was ver' shiny. I shall begin at the beginning, and recap. *clears throat*

My whole family had to go in for a party on Sunday, and because it's a four or five hour drive (depending on how many bathroom breaks we take and how closely we pay attention to the speed limit,) we decided to go in on Saturday, scatter to spend time with friends, and then return in time for work on Monday. Because I'm awesome, I got to go in with the early car. *smug* I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but my dad has awesome taste in music. (I'm serious!) I generally leave the car with a list of at least four songs I need to buy for my own, and this time was no different.

Anyhow, after four hours of music and coffee, we got to Town. So we immediately went to the mall. (We're from a small town, what can I say?) Daddy was meeting people for business, and I was christmas shopping. It was- busy. People filling the concourse, I can take. It's like moving through an airport, and the crowds have no real connection to me. Crowds in stores, are not so much fun. I was going to try to spend a gift card on some work clothes, so I marched my way into the designated shop. I saw the line for the changing room stretch past the cashes, and marched right back out again. But I fought my way past the messy hordes in Sears, and bought the required gifts! The time in line was long enough to hear all about the latest divorce of the woman behind me, and her starbucks addiction, which information just added to the flavour of the day. It's not a proper trip to the mall without hearing personal information you wish you hadn't!

But I hadn't had enough punishment yet, I still felt the need to shop! I went to American Eagle, grabbed pretty things, saw the prices, put most of the pretty things back... Also, has anyone noticed how many layers the models in that store wear? I mean, I counted six layers in one instance, and she still didn't look warm. I had time to count, because I was in line for many, many minutes. *draws a veil over the line* It was long enough that once I was released I walked with a sense of urgency to the bookstore. Bookstores just calm the panic, y'know? And there I realized that I've been watching quite a few "best of the year" lists of YA books go by, lately, and these books were actually THERE, in FRONT OF ME, for SALE. And I had MONEY. (Not for long...)

I bought books. *cough*

I bought quite a few books. It's research, right? And I haven't been in a new bookstore in a year, and any bookstore at all in eight months. So we'll just pass by the issue of how much money I spent there...

Oh, and then we went to Chapters. ^_^

Daddy had to tell me not to unbuckle before we were fully parked. "It's not a tactical strike!" I actually skipped into the store, and literally was cooing over the bookshelves at one point. (I love how the staff is so jaded, they don't even blink when you're all but making out with your new purchases. (No, that wasn't me, that was a guy with some new Manga, which he apparently had abstained from for too long)) So I, uh, got some more reading material there. But by then my panic in the mall and euphoria over new books was starting to show, in addition to the fact that I hadn't eaten for quite a few hours. So we went to a restaurant! I had fajitas, and they were lovely.

Let me see, what else happened? Oh yes! Then Daddy dropped me off at a friend's house, and we talked for an hour before I walked down and saw the Messiah, then I came back and we watched two movies. Busy day, yes?

I shall talk about Messiah tomorrow. Sleep is calling me now. Okay, okay, I hear you! Bye, internets!

"... and then I saw the highlighters that were also necklaces..."

When I was little I thought that dollar stores were TEH AWESOMEST THING IN TEH WORLD.

Then I became a teenager, and discovered social conscience and snobbery, and decided that nothing in a dollar store was worthy.

Then I got a job, and extended that to Wal-mart, and anything within 200 miles of my house (excluding bookstores.) None of you deserve my my heard-earned money! I must spend it in the CITY!!!

I think I grew out of those particular stages. I went to the dollar store the other day to get tupperware.

An hour later, I spent 57 dollars on purchases including a candle that smelled like coffee, and shiny luggage locks that are just so SHINY. I nearly bought a stuffed fish that was quite possibly the tackiest thing ever made- simply because it was tacky. Thankfully Frauline was there to drag me away from the iridescent leprous fish with floppy lips, stuffed with dust from thailand.

Then we found the wedding section. Have you ever seen the wedding section in a dollar store? Did you know you can buy a veil for five dollars, champagne glasses for four, a "do not disturb we're on our honeymoon" door hanger for two fifty, and a tablecloth and two bundles of lace for fifteen (to make the dress)? THERE IS NOTHING MORE YOU EVEN NEED. One stop shopping, right there. (I also may have had a laughing attack internally over a place holder that was a pair of grisly severed hands. Nothing says romance like a pair of severed hands!)

And I mean, the hilarity continues. Have you ever seen the make-up section? I swear the original nail polish that I was bought for learning to read was on that rack, for a dollar. And the pictures on the eyeshadow seem to indicate you should buy this if you are colour blind or legally blind.

Er, so far I haven't managed to give a good explanation for why I actually spent money on things. But I ask you. Don't you see the appeal of a potato peeler where the handle is actually shaped like a potato? Isn't that magical?

Isn't it?

...

Perhaps I shouldn't be allowed outside with money....

No, you don't get a title. You haven't EARNED a title.

I do a lot of internal monologuing, which is why the byline of my blog is what it is. But I don't share all of it. Because frankly, no one needs to hear me when I get really adolescent. Sometimes I cringe at hearing whatever I'm griping about now. My whine sessions usually end with hilarity, and all is well. And today the hilarity was such that I think I SHALL share it. I found myself consoling myself with this gem;

"Christianity is not a vending machine! It's not an- insert faith/good works, receive book deal/cute boyfriend/ travel tickets- deal!"

And then I laughed at myself and continued on. :D

I made butter toffee today with Fraulien! No you can't have any. *gloats* And Yesterday we had a fire across the street. It was t'mendous exciting. I don't know why I felt the need to write that in a lisp, but there you go... ANYHOW! (this is a good song)

When the chimney looked like this, Mommy called the Fire Department.

They all started arriving in state! So I started leaning out the window and taking pictures. Of Course.

We have a Voluntary Fire Department, so people were arriving still in their work clothes. I saw two pharmacists arrive, for instance.

The inside was all fire, so they did mysterious things with a pike and a chain to put it out. I didn't understand, but it looked cool!

Safety first. That's all I have to say...

And then the fire was out and life continued as per normal.

With many power lines.

On the one hand, I slept through my alarm and was late to work.

On the other hand, I found out I can go from horizontal, asleep in a tangle of blankets- to upright, clothed and in my right mind, wearing a nametag and at work, in under seven minutes.

I was just reminded of how AWESOME this is. In the original sense of the word.

Our Father

Who art in heaven

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come

Thy will be done

On earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our trespasses

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from Evil.

For thine is the Kingdom

And the Power

And the Glory

Forever and Ever.

Amen.

If you think this is an easy prayer, perhaps you should think about it a little bit more. Alternatively, you are a saint, and I respect you greatly.

"Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth/ And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;"

When I was little we lived in Germany, for two years. I remember castles and excitement, (everything is more exciting when you're four) and pretzels and travel. Those were good pretzels. And when they're the size of your head, they're even BETTER.

Looking back, I find I remember details that I'm sure an older person wouldn't think significant. Things like running up the stairs, and finding a dead mouse in the flower beds, and poking fuzzy caterpillars that rippled alarmingly. It was all very exciting. We also, because my dad was serving in Fourth Service Battalion, went to war memorials. When you are four you think gun emplacements on cliffs are things to climb on, and you're more interested in pommes frites in Dieppe than the fact that thousands of your countrymen died on that beach made of interesting rocks. There was one memorial, however, which I remember being serious, even when I was there.

That was Vimy.

When you're four, the crosses in the cemeteries go on forever. And then you get in the car and drive over past the trees, and there are new crosses. And they go on forever again. I somehow managed to understand the idea that each cross was a person, and it baffled me. For that matter, it still baffles me. There are so many graves. I'm twenty one now, so quite a few of those graves belong to people who were younger than me. It's one of those things where my mind just can't take it in.

And then we went up on the memorial, which was huge and windy, and white. Lots of names. I've seen pictures, and I want to go back. At the time I just, sadly, remember running around and wondering what the statues were for. Grandeur is wasted on the very young. (Even if I did think I was an adult. :P)

But there was also a section of no man's land that was kept as is, not landscaped smooth. We went over there and poked around. Have you ever seen a shell hole? It's like someone has taken an ice cream scoop to the ground. This was almost ninety years later, and you still had to walk along ridges between these gaps in the ground. The proportions I remember are probably incorrect. I remember these half-circles in the ground being so large that you couldn't quite hear from the other side. And they were really hard to get out of. That was the place that I remember being most, serious. It takes an impressive place to make a four year old feel sober, but that was the most in-awe I remember being until I was about nine. You can read about what things meant, but seeing them in person is sometimes necessary to start to understand. I really, REALLY want to go back.

That's been a disjointed ramble with little or no point. :P War Cemeteries are awe-inspiring. You should go. Oh, and Rose put up some poems on her blog. That you should read.

November brings out the optimist in me.

I had yet to learn that all human relationships end in pain.
-Douglas H. Gresham

Over the past two years the number of relationships I've been in has grown a lot. Not that kind of relationships, you sillies! *scoffs at you* I mean my relations with other people. My friendships, the people who I know and follow, the numbers have gone up.

(I'm also doing Nano for the second time, so my grammar is shot to pieces. YAY INCOHERENCY.)

This past week I've been realizing that a side effect of having more relationships is seeing those relationships come to an end. And really, there is no way for a human relationship to end painlessly. Either the friendship 1.) grows to an end and shatters- (watch out for emotional shrapnel!) it 2.) withers and just dies (I've yet to see the grave of a relationship without some sort of regret around it) or it 3.) survives until the death of one or more members of the relationship.

Option three sounds like the best one, doesn't it? Maximum happiness. Yes, until the whole death thing. Our culture doesn't talk about death, we like to pretend it doesn't happen. "If I can't see it, it's not there, right? Death is for old people! I'm young!" Since I've been a legal adult, I've had my hiding privileges slowly revoked. There have been a lot of reasons for that, including cancer in the family, and working in a job which means I mainly deal with the over-sixty-five crowd.

"How've ya been?"

"Oh fine, fine. Had a heart attack last week."

"Ah. Wonderful weather we're having, eh?"

But anyways, I had a point to this, didn't I? Ah yes.

Human relationships invariably end in pain. *shrugs* Enjoy'm while they're fresh folks, they don't last.

BUT.

Yes, there is a "but." I may be tired but I'm not THAT depressed. As Christians, we're not simply human. We have a hope for life after death, and our relationship with God does not end.

Ever.

Which to me- caught in a rash of being afraid to go on the internet and see who else is dying/breaking up/having a death in the family/oh, dying/did I mention the specatular prepondernace of DEATH lately- is an encouraging thought.

Yay, I'm only demi-human! Or maybe it's like the ASCAAP/BMI royalty schemes, and there's two hundred-percent pies? Fully Mortal body and fully Immortal soul? This is probably heretical, now. I should stop writing.

Sock sorting explained!

I was going to talk about sock sorting!

*looks around vaguely*

Wasn't I? Yes, I was.

I even put in the title of my last blog post. And then instead I apologized to everyone in the world. Which, you know, is definitely the best use of my time and life, etc. Who wants to hear about socks when you can GROVEL?

Oh, you say you do?

*Chuckle*

Fancy that. Well, I shall attempt to talk about- socks.

BTW, if if you don't want a look inside my head at the moment, you should START READING HERE. It'll be better for your sanity.

Now, *cough* there are several people in my family. In fact, we usually have to use three of those "family packs" that you get a regular grocery stores. And I'm not even going to go over "family vacations" for five people. I laugh in their general direction. My family laughs with me. Ha ha ha. Ha hah. *cough*

As a result, when we do laundry, it's a rather- intensive- undertaking. Our laundry machine was out of commission for a few weeks in the summer, and we'd have to go to the Laundromat. When we did so, we would regularly take over the entire Laundromat for hours at a time. ~Oh, it's that family again- I'll come back tomorrow.~ You could just see that thought go through people's heads when they walked into the building.

My dad does the laundry now, because it is -frankly- a task that requires military precision. But as you may have had occasion to notice at some point, if you've ever done laundry, socks all look alike. And it's not considered socially wise to go about staring at people's socks, to figure out who those striped socks with the red and the green belong too. (Putting aside the issue of white socks, which are HARD.) So we have an epic family sock-sorting every week or so, after breakfast.

Yes, I just used "epic" and "sock" in the same sentence. My family is just that awesome, okay? If we start into something, it just gets more special.

Hmmm, I was going to describe the sorting, but it's the kind of thing that only really can be communicated in person. Come and visit, and we'll sort. ^_^

Only we can make sorting socks so epic.

So, I have nasal congestion and wisdom teeth coming in. This charming combination has managed to remind me how very unpleasant I am when I am in any sort of pain. Basically I get bitter, angry and vengeful, particularly when I can't get my way, e.g. get to sleep right NOW.

So, if I yelled at you, shared privileged information, accused you of being the problem with the Western World, blamed the absence of someone else on the internet on you, and/or growled darkly at your fabulous wordcount, I'm sorry.

It's my teeth's fault.

^_^

However, my lack of ability to sleep did result in me getting to watch the Amazing Race, which proved that anything a man can do, sometimes a woman can't do- (*gulps*) and proved how hard it is to count bells. So yay! And today my teeth are just fine, so I can whine, moan and whinge about my nose instead. This sounds like a wonderful plan, yes?

On to work and then to figure out what novel I'm writing for Nano! Go me!

I really am sorry. *contrite*

I'll be doing Nano next month....

Consider me "Out Of The Office."

Apply at my writing blog for more information.

I need chocolate and tea now.

Nothing has happened in MY life. Which is why I haven't blogged for a whopping 15 days. I"M ON A NON-BLOGGING STREAK! KEEP IT GOING.. Oh. I just broke it.

Oh, I bet you don't hate me too much for breaking it. Right? Right? That's right, you're merciful, beautiful human beings. And if you're not human, that's all right, I'm not intolerant. I tolerate everyone. Except injustice.

Yes, that was a marvellous and marvellously subtle quote from Ryan Cook, the grind-core metal screamer turned Country Artist. He's hilarious when not singing, you should look him up. *nods* Yes, though I am feeling significantly more friendly towards Country then I used to, I'm still only on the fringes of the the Genre. Sugarland? Please, Please, stop WHINING at me. Thank you.

And some people are reading that last paragragh again, trying to winnow out some logic. They will fail, of course, but it's a good hope. Everyone would have some abitions in life. It builds character!

Whew, it looks like the blogging portion of my brain is beside its self and gibbering with joy at finally being let out. I should put the rest of this post into bullet points to scare it into coherency.

1.) Country music.
-Yes, I did say that I was feeling more friendly towards the genre.
-Why, you ask?
-I will tell you.
> Taylor Swift
~*hums Breathe and You Belong With Me.*
~Also, this is a chance to be anti-Kanye! WHAT IS NOT TO LOVE?!!?!?!?!?!????

>Also, the weather channel.
~Why the weather channel, you ask?
~Oh, I will tell you.
} My wicket at work is DIRECTLY in front of the television.
} Said television, for eight months, played the Weather Channel.
} Have you heard those well-dressed and well-heeled persons try to hide

their glee at disasters, manufacture doom and gloom to talk about, and

recycle the same clip every twenty minutes all day- for eight months?
+ Yes? Then you know my pain
+ No? THEN COUNT YOUR BLESSED BLESSINGS.
} When the television was changed to CMT, I counted my blessings and

enjoyed the pretty music, trucks, and hair on display.
+ Seriously, there was a lot of pretty hair.
>Therefore I don't hate the genre so much.
>Thank you.
>*bows*
2.) Snow.
-It snowed yesterday, and this morning.
-I went for a walk in steel toed boots, and then dried out my pant legs by the fire and

drank hot chocolate for five hours.
-This is an excellent way to spend the day.
-You should all try it.
-*nods at you*
3.) My Mother is hardcore.
-If I haven't mentioned this before, shame on me. She really is wonderful, and spectacularly multi-talented.
-She also can walk around half the day with splinters driven up under her nails, unconcerned.
>Sorry, what?
>Yes, you read that correctly.
>Splinters, under her fingernails.
~Well, one fingernail.
~But still.
>She was putting the salt away in the kitchen, and accidentally picked up a splinter.
~This splinter was easily two centimetres long.
} That's PAST the nail bed, people.
~And then I couldn't pull it out with my dinky tweezers.
~So I went to work.
~And Mommy did an afternoon's work around the house.
} *takes a moment to hyperventilate over my mother's pain tolerance

threshold.*
~She said when I got back, that "Heh, maybe we can get it out with hot wax?"
} (Think about this for a second, people. Hot wax? Splinters up under

fingernails? Anyone else seeing a disturbing trend here? A certain flavour?

Yes? No? Next we break out the boiling oil to make it slip out really easily?)
~Daddy pulled it out in the evening.
~And Mommy continued to be unconcerned, beyond mentioning that it was funny,

she was having phantom pain all the way up to her elbow before it was taken out.

-HARDCORE, I tell you, people. My mother is EXEMPLARY.
-And now I'm more concerned when she says that childbirth isn't really that bad...

"We're not speaking. We had, an argument."

I am a Mac loyalist, and a little bit of a Mac racist. I mean, I will use Windows if absolutely necessary*, but only if absolutely necessary*. I mean, it's shiny, it always treats me right, and it makes witty jokes ads about other boys computers. *cough* No, I don't suffer from acute anthropomorphism of electronics✢, why do you ask?

I also started a Youtube account. This was prompted by my SHINY new jewelry which I had to show off, and mainly intended for my close freinds. (They seem to think me being incoherent and giddy is amusing/loveable/entertaining. You see why I'm friends with them? I NEED that ego-stroking❧!)

I've been making videos. (All three of them!) Without edits. Or grammar. WHooooooo, I'm grammar-free! And Bahnree, who I dearly love, suggested I use edits, on more videos. I whined and complained and agreed. Because I'm just gracious like that.

Actually I told Fraulein that she had to make a vlog. Because I'm just courteous like that. So we filmed four takes, with the intention of editing them together. And then we opened iMovie. And the abusive behaviour started.

It was a bit confusing at first, but I figured we could get through it. We cut out the bits we didn't want, added an effect or two (crickets sound effects!) and then the audio disappeared. Um, what? So we re-imported the offending clip and tried again. And again. And Again. It kept loosing the clips? Finally we get it to work, and go to export it. (this is an hour and a half later?) The benighted thing FREEZES. Okay, that would be fine, only IT DIDN"T SAVE. *anger*

I don't feel like going over all the pain and repedative steps of pain. Suffice it to say, two hours later, I am not speaking to my OS. It DECIVED me. *sulks* I want to like your iMovie, OSX, really I do, but no. Just no. I can't take that kind of abuse from my computer. I'm a delicate and easily angered person, that's why I came to you in the first place! Just take iMovie aside and give him a talking to, and I"m sure we can get along just fine in the future. Don't bother to talk to me before iMovie has been punished. *lofty*

*turns away*

*Absolutely Necessary. "No, you may not use your personal laptop on the secure network." "No, our budget does not allow for a mac in addition to the other public-use machines." "No, we only have the one computer in the college, why do you ask?" And things of that ilk.

✢Anthropomorphism of Electronics. Don't worry, Yinsen, honey, they didn't mean those mean things. You just stay over here with me, I'll recharge your battery and it'll all be fine.

❧ Ego-Stroking. "You're so pretty... *stares*"

Coffee!

I also spilled the lovely coffee on myself. Go me. :D

*Hums Bittersweet Symphony*

I still can't get used to the fact that I'm 21. This may have something to do with the fact that I keep writing the year as 07, but what do I know?

Oh, and about a month, or a month and a half ago, I saw this job in St. John's (Town, for those who don't know,) and it looked like an amazing job, that I'd love... But I didn't have accommodations, so I didn't apply. Then, a few weeks after the job closed, I was offered accommodations in town. OMG! But I didn't have a job. Then a job came open, and I was offered TWO different options for accommodation. Clearly, God wanted me to move to Town. I applied. And I didn't get the job. Clearly, God wanted me to stay here. ;) So now I'm staying in town (notice the small "t"), for the foreseeable future. And we all know how far I am able to see... (that is, not at all, for those who don't know. :D)



Yes. I had the idea that I was going to say something profound about this, but that is not going to happen. :D I thought a plan was obvious, but then it wasn't. I should mention that around here, Everyone either goes to Town, or somewhere on the mainland. It's just What You Do, leave home and go to where SUCCESS is. I think I was in some measure thinking in that way, and assuming that Of Course I'll Go, not because I really wanted to, but because that's What You Do, so Of Course I wanted to. (I feel like I'm reading A. A. Milne, with all the capitals.)

But then, thinking about actually possibly moving, I realized that I am quite content here. :D Even if it does not provide me with exciting blog material.

Yep. *nods* Staying here. I think. Maybe I'll move to Japan instead. You never know. *nods again* And, um. Yeah. *cough* *nods again*

Heyyyyyy, this was a fun blog post. :D Parts One, Two, and Three. ( I don't know about the blogger's other posts, I just read those ones. Enjoy!)

A REAL Post.

Ahem.

As you may have noticed by my previous post, or perhaps by the lack of posting in the past, hmmm, several months, I have not been greatly inspired to blog lately.

What, what's that? You say you didn't notice? Hush, I'm busy deluding myself, which is- after all- the main point of blogging. Ahem.

BUT! *orator hands* I do have an excuse! Yes I do. And I'm going to bring it out now, and WAVE it at you. In your very FACE.

My hands hurt.

There you have it. Wasn't that a wonderful excuse? No, you say? Well, well, um, uh, *trails off uselessly* But the majority of sarcasm aside, (I can't put it all aside, that just is a personal impossibility,) I have indeed had sore hands. Apparently counting money for seven hours a day, five days a week, and then coming home and writing fiction - e.g. internet chatting while ignoring a blank word processor- for several more hours, has an effect! Who knew?

And, um, I'm lame. *cheesy grin* But anyways!

It was my birthday on Sunday! I turned 21! I spent it, in true Snazel-fashion, sleeping, browsing pictures on facebook, and playing Duck Duck Goose. :D Also there was cheesecake. Oh my, there was cheesecake. Mmmmm. I deeply love Cheesecake, and especially this one. Yum. Thank you, Mommy!

Fraulien gave me a lovely shirt that covers my abdomen and my smaller siblings gave me chocolate and itunes, and mommy and daddy gave me BOOKS in the form of a Chapters card, and it was generally very jolly. :D Oh, and because I watch Jeopardy like it's a competition- what do you mean Alex can't hear me? I shouted loud enough!- we played a trivia game. I ran my team into the red immediately and then masterfully kept them there with my fast reaction times and stunning guess skills. :D It was a fun birthday, indeed!

Okay, my brain is now gone. Byes.

A Post.

Okay, Okay, okay, I'll blog.

Really, I'll write something. Like this, this is blogging, right? Right? This counts? Look at all the lovely words, this counts as a post, right? Right? *hopeful*

... no? *quivering lower lip*

[INSERT WITTY TITLE HERE]

I have internet back.

A blog post must be written to celebrate this.

Tragically, I have nothing more to say. *cough* Ummmmm. It's my birthday next week! I hold out hopes for cake and coffee.

*tries to think* Speaking of coffee, I should get some more. GREAT IDEA, SNAZEL.

(And it seems like all my friends have friends or relatives in the hospital, which is weird.)

Yeah, I definitely need to practice blogging more often, I have no skills! No skills... *goes off to make coffee in a bit*

Walking along MY sidewalk.

When I was little, I thought that the big parts of the sidewalk were for adults, and strollers- a road for strollers. Then you had the road for cars, and in between you had the road for little people. I.e, me. For the longest time I only remember walking along the curb, heel to toe.

Even now, I still think ~My Sidewalk~ before I think ~Curb.~ (And yes, I still walk it instead of the "big" sidewalk.)

It's funny how little assumptions can change the way you think about the world, even something as simple as curbs and sidewalks.

For those who say there are no omens....

On the day I was born, the number one song in the US was Sweet Child O' Mine, by Guns and Roses, and in the UK it was A Groovy Kind Of Love by Phil Collins.

...

Yes. No further comment on that one....

Also, according to this picture, my Dad and I have the same facial expressions. The world is just lucky I choose to stay inside most of the time. That's all I'm saying. ^_^

Initiate hyper-enthusiasm- GO!!!!!

I suppose I should finish talking about the life changing fall out of the concert before I move on, eh? WHO'S WITH ME????

*crickets*

Right. *cough* Yes, I do not have enough coffee in my system to manage Hyper-Enthusiasm, so I'm just gonna spare you all the eyeball-bleeding that it might induce in the unwary audience. Plus, it might make my head hurt. So yes, *dials it back*

Just read everything else in this pose in a soothing whisper. *nods carefully, so as not to jostle tender brain tissue*

The concert was lovely. ^_^ I traded half my hearing for a hat. But- the hearing came back, while the hat stayed with me, its new owner. I inspire loyalty in inanimate objects and senses, clearly.

Then at the after party- which I totally attended, have I mentioned that? I'm connected to the industry, after all. *smug* It was announced that A Life In Liberty had won the EP. You can listen to a sample of their previously recorded stuff here.

*pauses while you listen*

*lets you repair your eardrums*

Yes. I think the music speaks for its self, don't you? So they're going to be hanging around my house for the next month or so.

I feel like I should make a witty and/or smart remark about RAWK STARS here, but I will instead defy convention, and refrain. Good for the soul, restraint. Oh, and Cachet, being all underage as well, was invited to participate in the Janeway CD as well, raising money for our provincial children's hospital. You can see a sample of them on stage, with really abysmal audio, on youtube- here. But it gives you a sense of it! I actually am really excited to hear them in the studio, because that's the kind of music I can enjoy recorded, as well as live. And they were pretty great live, too. :D Did I mention that little guitar player buddy played with his teeth? And behind his back? And blindfolded? Yes. That is my weekly quota of awesome, right there. :P

I think, that's all I have to say right now. Those bands have both shook on coming to record, which is dramatic and gives me a conversation starter with my friends on the mainland. "Hey, have you heard there's a Metal Band living in my basement?" *grins*

Valeo!

Blogging while in a car, it's a gift.

Starting with my traditional opening, I keep meaning to blog! And then I don't. Too bad I don't have the mental download thing set up yet. I should get on that....

Anyhow.

MY LIFE IS FULL OF DRAMA

No seriously, there have actually been things happening lately. Last, hmmm, Friday, I went to a Concert! A Rock Concert! Yes, for real. *nodding* Also, in case you're scratching your head in mystification and trying to picture, I wore my work clothes, including heels. Now you're really concerned....

I have made an earth-shattering discovery. When one is at a four hour concert, after working for seven hours, one should not wear one's uncomfortable shoes. Especially when one is prone to standing at a concert, for the aforementioned four hours. I mention this for your eternal edification, because I am A Merciful Person. Also because the next day I had to sit on my feet for eight plus hours to heal them, which COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED. Yes. Bring shoes that are sensible to stand in.

Or, you know, sit down. But who goes to a concert to sit down? NO ONE WHO WANTS TO WIN FREE HATS, THAT"S WHO. *looks at what she's just written.* I seem to feel strongly on this subject. Life is an eternal voyage of self discovery.

*cough* Anyhow. Yes, concert. Music. Bands. Kick drums which you feel in your chest. *happy smile* Sadly, there weren't a lot of people there. When one family can double the size of the audience, perhaps it's time to reconsider your marketing plan. Granted, this is MY family, but still. *tsk*

The first band that came out was a Praise And Worship type group, which is cool, you know, if you go for that kind of thing. I, personally, do not, but hey, do what feels right to you. Good on ya, men (and a woman). And most of the audience, seemed to like it. Which again, good on ya, man. *thumbs up* I kinda danced around on my toes and watched my little siblings alternate staring and headbanging, which is something worth getting out of bed to see. So that was that. Next Band, plz?

Then Dan Bursey, who is awesome in his own right and was serving as MC, came out and gave away t-shirts and magnets and hats, and sundry awesome things. See, people? If you had been UP FRONT, you could have won a wonderful trucker hat from a local gym! DON"T WASTE THESE OPPORTUNITIES. While Dan was giving away FREE SWAG, the next band was setting up. I'm watching with tolerant interest, expecting more Pentecostal Praise And Worship. Then the lead singer comes over and says "Hi, everybody. Um, we're an instrumental progressive rock band. Prog metal, atcually. We're, uh, not like everybody else, hope you like it."

I think my reaction was somewhere along the lines of "YEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH", but I could be mistaken. They were named Cachet, and were deadly. *happy smile* I have decided I like prog metal. They put on a good show too! The guitar player played blindfolded, and behind his back, and with his teeth. (No, not all at the same time. Give the boy a break, he's only 16, he has to have SOMETHING to aspire too.) I will say now, that I voted for them. Oh, did I neglect to mention this? The audience voted on who was the best, and the winner would then get to make a 6 song EP, with Bulldog Records. That is the studio that shares a building with my house, for those of you who are CRIMINALLY UNINFORMED.

Then after Cachet, here comes A Life In Liberty. They have long hair, so I'm hopeful that this is also not Praise and Worship. Well, then they announce themselves as Metal Core. They have a "vocalist" who screams for 45 minutes. They head bang floor-to-ceiling in unison. What do YOU think? *grins* While this is not strictly my style, I like lyrics to be discernible, they're still awesome live. And again, they're all under 18. The drummer is 14. What is with that? When did I start going to concerts and feeling old? Oh wait, for me that was age 12. My bad. *cough*

My hair is still longer than the bassist, who is named Hammer- no joke- but only by about an inch. I fell it is important to share this important piece of info with you. Aren't I considerate?

Oh, and then after the guys who obviously drink energy drinks via IV, that is the only reasonable explanation for their actions, on came another group! Sanctified, normally the most HARD RAWK of any concert they attend. They made a nice mellow ending for the evening. ^_^

Then we tallies the votes, and A Life In Liberty won the EP! *waves a cell phone* I did not actually do the tallying, I should make clear, which was good, because I had lost of my hearing by that time, as well as being unable to stand up- blame the shoes- and tired enough that my eyes were evidencing a tendancy to point in two directions at the same time. I'm gifted, I know. In addition to my savage rock-concert skillz. *gang signs* You know, when you're as white as I am, acting as gangsta as I do kinda brings irony to a new level. Hyper-irony. Post-irony. Meta-irony.

I should wrap this up and let you all go back to more productive pursuits, like checking facebook.

Here, have some quotes!

Dan: "I was actually in a rap group once, a christian rap group. When I was 13, in Toronto. Hey, I'm an overweight white kid from Newfoundland, it's only natural! Yeah. We all went to the Metropolitan Area Church, so we called ourselves M.A.C. Hammer. Yes. It was bad."

Dan: "Does anyone know where the Ride Cymbal is? Joel has stolen the Ride Cymbal, cause I made that joke about drummers. I'm sorry Joel! I didn't mean it! We love you, you're a great *chokes* Musician!"

One of the LIL parents: "We'd like it so that you can actually hear the lyrics, you know? So we don't have to download them to figure out what is being said?"

Here, have some internet!

There are lovely links which you should follow. ^_^

How trustworthy is television?

An INSIDE LOOK AT THE WORKINGS OF A RECORDING STUDIO. *fangirls*

And this is the photo-blog of a lovely, talented girl who is undergoing treatment for cancer. You should all follow her. *nods* And comment on the pictures, because they're wonderful.

"I've got a home in Glory Land that outshines the sun..."

Wow, I have not blogged in far too long. Shocking behavior.

I'M SORRY I'M SORRY FORGIVE ME WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This has been, however- (see, I have an excuse! More than one, actually!) -because, I have been, um, writing. *cough* I'm trying to finish the story I started in November, which has been devouring all my free time, most of my brain cells, and what little sanity I have left.

I know, none of my family has been noticing a difference. Hush, you.

ALSO (see? Two excuses. I am really on a roll.) my life hasn't lent its self to blogging lately. I just haven't felt about ranting about the weather, and I haven't felt like it, and it's all about me after all, let's remember our focus here! *trips on her super-inflated ego and goes headfirst into the doorframe*

Ohh, which reminds me of blog-able happenstances that have been occurring lately. *clears throat* First of all, the other day I was feeling very tired while talking to Fraulein and her friend from Alberta. This led to me turning around in the middle of a sentence and walking through the door. Only it didn't' quite work out like that... I wasn't awake enough to juggle the complicated tasks of both walking and talking. Though technically it wasn't the walking that was the issue, it was the direction-finding; I walked into the wall. You see, we have a bit picture window, and a french door, and in between them there is a little strip of wall about eight inches wide. That's what I found with my shoulder, knee, hip and glasses. (Fraulein and Cohort thought this was hilarious, of course.) Worryingly enough, the part of the wall that my glasses found was actually a nail that was sticking out of the wall, right at eye-level. So that little jolt of adrenaline made it possible for me to make my way over to the coffee without further incident. :D

Then last night, there was another jolly occurrence! I demolished part of a staircase by accident! (!!!) That sounds much more exciting than it actually was, in truth. Though I will say, in all fairness, that when it was taking place I thought it was quite remarkable and note-worthy. You see, we have a big porch, which leads down to a little back stoop, which leads to the ground with four steps. Now there are three steps.

I stepped on the outside of one, and without preamble or warning screeching, the nails all came loose. So I discovered with extreme interest that I was falling sideways and down about 18 inches. When you are not expecting it, 18 inches is a long ways. Also, heavy-duty steps that have lived through 15 years of hard wear are heavy. Particularly when one is juggling them in the air with elbows and the outside of ones knees. But through my exemplary injury-avoidance skillz I evaded the actual nails, stashed the step under the stoop with my habitual grace and poise, and limped inside to twitter about it.

"Wow," you are all saying right now, "why am I still reading this?" And to you, I say, "I don't know. Perhaps you haven't had your coffee yet? Perhaps you also have walked into a wall one two many times?" ( I left that typo in deliberately. Nhya.) "Perhaps you are stalking me? There are all valid options that should be given due weight and consideration. Some other time. Also, coffee."

Coffee. *makes loving noises at her mug* I can always count on you to make my heart soar.

I have been getting up at 6 am three times a week. Voluntarily. And with a minimum of griping. Or at least, actual violence. It happened in this fashion.

*cough*

My commute to work, on foot takes about three minutes, in heels. So for the past year, getting the majority of my exercise from walking to work has resulted in, well, not exercising. You think you're out of shape? HA! I was getting winded walking across the living room. And, yeah, that's kinda, not a good thing... So I was vaguely thinking that I should exercise. ~You know, some other time- not now. No, right now I am doing Very Important Things, like seeing what has happened on facebook in the past 2 minutes. ~ Then Mommy and Daddy started an walking routine in the early morning, and Fraulein perkily joined in. And she invited me. With diabolical angelic timing, she invited ME to come along just when I was in the midst of one of my vague musing sessions. It is not wise to ignore divine signs that arrive with such cursed excellent clarity. Who am I to argue with the working of fate? (I know I was juggling terms and metaphors there, hush. I am too lazy to go back and fix them. Plus, you're reading this voluntarily, aren't you? Yes? No one put a gun to your head? Good. Hush.)

We've been walking around a pond that is encircled with a boardwalk. It is very lovely. Especially in the rain, which chases the bees into hiding. But when one is wearing cheap canvas shoes with no traction, it polishes the soles of said shoes into a fine gloss. When the person wearing wearing such glossy-bottomed shoes is walking with perfectly appropriate haste upstairs to check her email is me, and I step on a slick tile floor with water on it that I most likely dripped on it from my hair after walking in the rain, and I'm kinda walking sideways because it's a sharp angle to turn, well, you get the picture. Certain bones take the chance to become closer to the floor. Because, after all, what to we strive for in this life if not closer relationships with our fellows? If you're a hip bone, you should introduce yourself to floors whenever possible. It's just polite. *nods firmly*

I just wrote a blog post about ways in which I have injured myself in the past week. I am so talented.

Why OPEN doors when you can avoid that entirely?

Just thought I'd show off my awesome skills for ya'll. ^_^

Remembering

I saw this even covered on the CBC, at work. What you don't see in this video is that as the hearses passed through town, people had flowers they put on the vehicles, and in the road in front of them. Hundreds and hundreds of people, dead silent, placing flowers and just witnessing.

Some of the people from the town talked about their traditon, here.

My blog according to Wordle

"...like icy lightening down your spine!" "What does that even MEAN?" "I dunno! But I like it!"

We've been having a lot of lightening lately. Generally at night, in a shocking turn of events. Also, I am trying not to develop a grudge against rain, given that it has woken me up somewhere between three and four by drumming inexorably over my head, three nights running. (My head is right under the eaves.)

This seemed far more profound and interesting before I posted it.

And my title is a conversation from a dream. Yes, I shall drink my tea and go back to work now. Cheerio!

AULGH.

I accidentally stabbed myself in the foot two weeks ago. This is regrettable and all, but it's pretty much healed. Except for one stage- the itching wound. I can now say with authority that itching feet are right up there with erratic strobe lights/sirens as The Most Distracting Thing Ever.

*cries*

"I love a good cup of tea. Now there's another thing you know about me. We're practically friends already."

As of last night, my High-School-Graduating-Class now has three states of being.

One person is Married.

One person is Engaged.

And, one person is Single.

(For those of you who are wondering, yes, my class- if I use the loose interpretation of "class," consists of three people. With the narrow definition, there is one person in my class.)

I'll let you guess which state-of-being I fall under.

It's 6:51. That's AM. I've been up for over an hour. I also didn't really sleep last night. So when I say "up," I mean only that I've been continuously vertical, in a purposeful fashion. And my eyes have been open, though consciousness is debatable. My feelings on the matter can be summed up in one word.

Ouch.

Will the bus please hurry up and arrive so I can sleep while going home? Pretty, pretty please?

I'm the Queen of the May!

Today I went over the back hill with Slonner and we picked flowers. I wore them home. No, you may not have pictures. Not yet, at any rate.

I've been enjoying my time in New Bruswick, but things have been mercifully short of blogging material. I have not stabbed myself in the foot, (that was last week), I made all my bus connections and got off at the right stops, (unlike last year), all my luggage is with me, (curse you, Air Canada), and I haven't stepped on any slugs.

Oh wait, I did.

I stepped on a slug, and I wasn't wearing shoes.

I know, you're all scarred now. ^_^

Anyhow, I'll hit the high points.

• On Monday Slonner and I made it safely to Grammy and Grampy's house, and then we chiefly slept.
• Tuesday we mall-ratted, as I believe I mentioned, and I didn't buy any books! My canvas shoes were tan when I bought them. Then we went to Value Village, where I did buy books.
• Wednesday we walked along the walking trail on the waterfront, and across the old train bridge. I brought my camera but was sorely remiss in taking pictures. The tan shoes became more dusty coloured.
• Thursday Slonner and I took the bus across town to the mall again. There we met up with Historian and his lovely wife, we discussed smuggling methods, and then we watched UP in the theater. The meeting, the discussion and the movie were all lovely. ^_^
• Friday we went up country and clamored around a waterfall. The shoes became more and more brown, with green streaks. Moss is treacherous, did you know that? Also, dogs enjoy drying themselves on your legs, it seems. We had dinner in the EIO and came home, and then we watched Yours, Mine and Ours, and had banana splits. A very good evening. :D
• Saturday, I walked over the back hill in my bare feet, and met slugs. So when I came back for round two of the ramble, shoes were involved. Said shoes are now really brown, and green, and speckled, and wet, and well broken in. I also wore through a blister on the back of my heel, (red patch!) and met my Cousin's husband for the first time with a bouquet of flowers woven in my hair. I'm so awesome. :D Then we had a family dinner, and I listened avidly while inhaling marvelous food. Salads, sandwiches, good bread, and chocolate mousse for dessert. Mmmmmm.

And tomorrow I go home on eht bus with Slonner! So I should get off of my aunt's internet and go pack. *waves*

I write this as I download the Free Single Of The Week from itunes via Chapters/Starbucks. Yep. ^_^

I'm in Chapters, using free internet and considering buying some very definately not free coffee at starbucks. Slonner and I have had a good time roving about the mall. I bought some eight dollar canvas shoes at Wal-mart! I found that I'd only brought sandals. Which are lovely and all, but they aren't really set up for long distance walking. Next we rove some more, and then off to Value Village! :D

So, on Sunday I'm heading off to the Mainland for a week. I thought I should mention this BEFORE I go, for once.

This supposedly uneventful summer seems to be full of travels!

"You look like Career Doll Barbie!" "Oh sweet heavens, I do."

Today at breakfast we discussed beta testing, submarines, the mail system and the Musad. And then we ended up with watching a video of a dancing parrot. I love my family. :D

The end-of-year has officially come for (most) of our activities. Brownies and Guides ended with a camp on the weekend, and Dance ended with The Show over the past five days. (If I could make that sparkly, I would. It's Just. That. Big. They sell out the Arts And Culture Centre for three days. Ahem.) Now Cadets, which the Walrus is involved in, ends with a dance on Friday, which the Walrus may or may not attend. The jury is still out.

I was in dance class for four and a half years, and involved in the show for five, but I'd never actually been in the audience on a performance night. This year I was, and I was very proud. *proud smile* Fraulein and Slonner were in a total of six dances, (the best ones.) I've now been inspired to get back into dance, if I can scare up the cash and transportation. The show its self was epic, of course. The theme was Variations: Deja Vu, and they did repeats of the best dances over the last 11 years. That sounds rather feeble, but then you realize these were all excellent dances in the first place, in addition to the fact that much of the audience was looking forward to seeing their old favorite dances again. It was very good. Too bad you missed it. *shakes head*

My sister just walked into my room and shaved green glitter onto my head. This should probably disconcert me more than it does. My response? Let's watch trailers on itunes! Something is wrong with me.

Anyhow! Let's talk about camp! This was the first Camp I've gone to as a leader, and it was slightly different from the other side. For one thing, sleep seemed so much more important? Some how, when you're a camper it seems fun to avoid sleep. When you're a leader you're more trying to avoid falling asleep on the lunch table. Also, limp french fries are less thrilling than actual salad with croutons and everything. This is a mysterious transformation, I wonder what could cause it? :D

At breakfast the first day I was clutching a mug of weak, burnt coffee like the ambrosia it was, and one of the Brownies inquired as to whether she could have some coffee. Given that this eight-year-old girl never seems to suffer from a lack of energy, my answer was decidedly in the negative. "Why?" was the predicable response. "Because I'm an adult," I responded- as predictably. The little Brownie, who by then had acquired a posse of interested followers, proceeded to inform me that I was not an adult. Cue blinking from Snazel. Oh, wait, this happens some times, they think because I am not a teacher or someone's mom, I must still be in high school. "No, I am an adult, I'm 20," I reply and drink more coffee. This isn't good enough, according to the children. I'm not an adult because I don't have a boyfriend. This is- not an objection I've had to deal with before. I throw out something about not having to have a boyfriend to be an adult. Brown Owl doesn't have a boyfriend, and she's an adult! Shaking of heads from the Brownies. Brown Owl is a teacher, therefore my argument is invalid. Ulp. Furthermore! They all have boyfriends, why don't I? Wait, the seven, six and eight year-olds all have boyfriends? Yep, even the kindergartners have boyfriends. Cue disapproving looks from the Brownies. This is clearly an epic fail on my part. But I am not defeated! I go on the attack! My next question; do their boyfriends buy them things? No? Well, they aren't much of boyfriends, are they now? The Brownies giggle madly about this, and I escape to get more coffee. Just another morning conversation with small girls!

The Camp was in a really lovely place, though. I should go back with a camera and less Brownies to control (which is approximately on the same level as herding cats) and take pictures. And I had a good time, though I wasn't sad to go come and collapse into an unconcious heap.

"Though he is not far from every one of us, for in him we live, and move, and have our being."

Yesterday a lady and her little boy came into the bank, and came to my wicket. The little boy had big brown eyes, close cropped hair, and a big grin. And he was on the skinny side, for a boy of about three. I nearly called him Gid three times in the five minutes he was sitting on my counter looking at everything. Thankfully his voice was very cutesy, which did not help the resemblance to my little brother, otherwise I might have started bawling.

It's been a little over six months since my little brother's death, and I keep finding myself at odd moments just staring at something, saying; "Why? Why? He'd be five, learning how to read- why? None of my college friends ever even got to meet him. Why? I just don't understand. It doesn't make sense! He's supposed to be charming every woman of every age with his big long-lashed eyes and beautiful grin. It doesn't make sense." 

I miss him a lot. And I look forward to seeing him again, whenever God sees fit to take me home. Silly boy had to jump the line ahead of his big sister.

Anyways.

I've also been seeing a lot of information about George Tiller on the news. If you haven't heard, he is an abortion doctor who was recently murdered. Specifically, the clinics which he owned and made his living off of performed late-term, or partial-birth, abortions, which is "the termination of a viable fetus." I have not looked into it, but I doubt that Dr. Tiller or his family, including his two physician daughters, were hard off for money. Given that he was contributing campaign money to the eventual Health Secretary, I have a great deal of doubt in that direction.

And I am finding it very hard not to simply decide that justice has been served with his "murder."

This man has reported the termination of over 2600 viable fetuses since 1998. To rephrase, he has supported himself and his family on the profits of making sure that more two thousand and six hundred human beings that were capable of surviving outside of the womb were unable to survive. So roughly one every regular business day.

This makes me very angry.

However, keeping very firmly in my mind the verse which says "Vengeance is mine, sayth the LORD, I will repay," I will concede that it is wrong to take justice into my own hands. I should not go out and kill abortion providers, and that goes for all of you too. Another "why?" moment.

And here's the kicker. Dr. Tiller was shot in church, where he was serving as an Usher. His wife sung in the choir. Possibly still sings, though I don't know and don't particularly care. He professed to be a Christian. He had to believe he was doing the right thing, I can't see someone living through continual death threats and hate mail for years for something he thought was wrong, or simply because there was good money in it.

So am I going to meet Dr. Tiller and Gid both, when I go home? My little brother who loved Cars and the man who is survived by his wife, four children and ten grandchildren? And will he meet 2600 little souls he sent to meet their maker? I just don't know. It's too much for me to understand, to get my head around. This is why I am not judge, jury and executioner, I suppose. Justice, Death and Life are just too much for me. But I do believe there is someone who can comprehend, someone both merciful and just, and someone who will has forgiven my murderous leanings, my pride and my self-righteousness. Among many other things.

Lord I believe, forgive thou mine unbelief.

How To Make An Evening Magical

Step One:
When getting up to assist in a professional (HA!!) performance of Fred The Moose, (AKA Friendly Moose, AKA Moose in Bed, AKA Moose With Juice, AKA Moose Who Drinks Juice, AKA That Moose Song) by fifteen small girls, be hoarsely informed by the song leader that she can't lead it, can you?

Step Two:
Remember to inhale. Also, exhaling helps.

Step Three:
Put out of your mind the fact that there are a hundred and fifty people sitting down behind you, watching you.

Step Four:
Answer "Yes I can lead it."

Step Five:
When asked if you know all the words, answer "By the Grace of God."

Step Six:
Sing loudly, and pray without ceasing. When you find you're singing the verses in the wrong order, sing louder, and with more confidence. Ignore the fact that your voice wavers.

Step Seven:
Sit down and allow your heart rate to decelerate to the point that you can hear other people again. Drink Coffee.

Step Eight:
Go home and watch Def Leppard on the telly.

"I just spent 500 pound on an unauthorized expense." "And you think you still work here?"

PT's home for the weekend! He's grown a fetchingly red goatee, which was disconcerting to witness. I pinpointed the source of at least a little of my disconcertion when I realized that, from the angle at which I was staring at him, he looked a little like a faun. Despite my mind's willingness to dive into Narnia or Classical Greece at any time, it has not yet progressed to presenting me with fictional beings at the dinner table. So that's why I was staring, PT, sorry. It looks lovely, really it does. :D

So there has been much celebration upon the advent of PT's return for four days, and upon the morrow we perhaps shall venture unto T'gate, there to climb cliffs and take profuse pictures of our siblings participating in the aforementioned vertical activity. Moreover, I have not the slightest idea why I am talking in this manner, unless it is perhaps attributable to the Tylenol, Midol and Coffee I have been eating over the course of the past five hours.

I've discovered the effects pane in iphoto, which causes me much joy. And yes, that is a tree I was wearing in my hair yesterday. I was gardening, see.

"You call this a favour?" "Yeah, you owe me one."

Fraulein and I made it to St. John's safely. 

We also made it across the city, which was tricky. 

And then we watched Star Trek. *maniac grin* It was very fun. Even Fraulein liked it, and she is not exactly a science-fiction fan. 

{Warning: What follows is just happy ranting. You may want to leave.}

Oh my, SO many lovely quotes. Even the main characters had good lines, which I wasn't expecting. Usually I don't particularly like or care about the main characters, I'm all caught up in the perils of the secondary- and more expendable- people. But this time I cared about everybody! It was particularly strange becuase I knew how things were supposed to be, in the original series, whereas the entire idea of this movie is that it turns the original series on it's ear, gives it a good shake, and puts the broken pieces back together in new and interesting ways. 

Let's see. The opening sequence was shiny. Lots of explosions and drama. I almost cried, though the person behind me did that for everyone in the area. :D

And Captain Pike! I LURVED Captain Pike! I wanted him to be in charge! He's an actual trustworthy chap! *waves hands* Though of course they had to get him out of the way so that the young people could take the leadership roles. That is one of the things that was interesting to me with this film. It had to be the young people that always saved the day, all the old ways lead to death or disfavor. *shrugs* Which I'm not sure if I agree with, in general life. It worked in the context of the movie and what the ship was that supposed to be doing, so I think it shall continue to make sense if and when the franchise continues, but it's not an idea I'd base my life around? Sometimes youth and imagination does not trump experience and actual leadership, that's all. *nods*

ANYHOW! The contrast between Spock's and Kirk's childhoods and how they dealt with early adulthood was lovely. Not only did the worlds look marvelous, (can I take a moment now to fangirl over how the film looked? *squueeeee!!!!* Okay I'm good.) but it set up the issues both main characters were dealing with, and the way they leaned in the face of pressure. And everything looked really pretty. Have I mentioned I love the design of the ship, the worlds, and everything? Yeah. It was Sooooo matchy. All right, we're good. Again. 

Oh, and the trailer made it look like there were all kinds of "hide your eyes, children," scenes, but in the actual film there were surprisingly few. I was happy that Mr. Abrams didn't feel it necessary to update the scandalous content of the story to a modern level. I mean, we all know it's there, this is Kirk after all, a character who lent his name to an entire Genre of character types, we don't need to have it spelled out more than sketchily. Heh, I'm so punny. *cough*

And the plot was, well, meh. It served its purpose, made for some shiny space battles, and set up some really interesting things for the future of the franchise. But I didn't really care about the bad guy, or even find him particularly blood-chilling. *flaps hand at Villain* Go, make your little revenge scheme. See if we care. Maybe it was because he was so pathetically unstable? I like sane bad guys, who have restraint and delicacy and stuff. And that makes a very different kind of sense if you were inside my head, but you're not, so just nod and smile, people. Just nod and smile and back away. 

Character roundup!

• Uhura: Feisty, interesting in a vague way, GJ not going for the blue-eyed-wonderkind! Go stand over there, please. You don't need to write.
  
• McCoy: *chortles* I liked him. Bad tempered, good at his job, has opinions, and you're gonna hear them! Let's see more!
  
• Kirk: Has an awful lot of good lines, and wears scars, blood and bruises surprisingly well. Smart-mouthed kid. *shakes head* I'll watch you from a distance. Long distance. From this universe. *waves* Have fun out there!
  
• Spock: Fascinating. I have no further comment on the matter. 
  
• Scotty: He didn't have hardly any screen time! He should have MORE!!! *waves hands in an excited fashion* And I was heartily annoyed at what Spock did to him. And then he saved the day, of course. :D 
  
• (Related- Walnut Man: Was cute. *grins* )
  
• Old Spock: Go away. Now. I mean it. Oh great, go mess with people's minds and realities, why don'tcha? Arrogant Hobgoblin.
  
• Sulu: Made of Win! Expandable swords are TOTALLY win, and you FLY that ship, man! As long as you take the parking brake off first. Oh, burn. 
  
• Chekov: Also has a lamentably short amount of screen time. What, they thought that the men with accents couldn't by understood other than that they were poked fun at for talking funny? Gosh, dudes. "Oh, I can do that! I can do that!" That made me grin. I don't quite understand his rank/shirt colour, though. Wasn't Chekov supposed to be enlisted? At that age, I'd certainly hope so. I need to find a listing of uniform design. *rummages about the internet* 
  
• Pike: Made. Of. Win. I think I mentioned this. Go the Old Guy! 
  
• Nero: You need a hobby, man.
  

Yep, I liked it. I can haz moer noew plz?

"I just waved at those hitchhikers, didn't I." "Yep, the little flirty wave, too."

Another blog post written on the highway!

• Soundtrack is: Coldplay
  
• Driver is: Fraulein
  
• Drink is: Ice cubes left over from McDonald's Root Beer
  
• Destination is: St. John's and the Home School Conference. 

Okay, now that you have all the vital stats, I suppose I may as well explain in labourious and tedious words.

We're going to the Home School Conference!

*crickets*

Okay, yes, the language portion of my brain is sadly lacking at this date. But despite this tragic handicap, I persevere and blog, for you, my loyal reader. I'm so noble. *sniffs*

Up until yesterday I though that I was going to stay home, live on tea and noodles, and watch television this weekend. My work schedule meant that I would miss the convey out, you see. And then, someone clever, (not me, sad to say), looked at the calander and noticed that I was off in the early afternoon. "So," Clever Person said to his or herself, "Snazel could leave on the latter half of the Convoy, if the latter half of the convoy delayed a couple hours. " And we all saw that this was good, and it was so.

And no we've been on the road for a little over two hours, looking to be on the road for a further three hours. Yay. On the other hand, the road is sparkly, and the clouds are beautiful. And I will probably double the amount of my freckles by the time we get there. *sigh*

We've gone 168 km, go us!

Geo: "Are we there yet?"
Fraulein: "You should do something fun while you you wait!"
Snazel: "You can always take up slapping yourself for personal amusement!"
Fraulein: "Self abuse is not entertainment."
Snazel: "I'm just pinking my cheeks the natural way." *lofty*

Oh, and when we stopped for a bathroom break a lovely old lady asked if four of my younger siblings were my children. This selection of my siblings included Slonner, who is 12 and a half. *headdesk* I guess my work clothes make me look REALLY mature? On the other hand, I just slapped Fraulein while she was driving "to make sure her eyes didn't close," and accused her music of being a travesty. So perhaps Maturity is negotiable? Yep, that's what I think.

In other news, Fraulein and I are meeting up with at least two other friends, perhaps more, and going to a movie tonight! It has been suggested that we watch a chick flick. My response, roughly, was "Yeah, sure! I know a great one called Star Trek! I'm just gonna go watch it, you can join me if you want. Tah!"

At work today my printer wasn't working when I went to balance out, so I had to call tech support. (We restarted the computer. :D) While waiting for the computer to claw its way back into relevance, I long-dated one arm, and date-stamped the other. It seemed like a good idea at the time. That's all I have to say on that subject. Annnddd, the air conditioning doesn't seem to be working. How dreadfully jolly. I think I'm going to buy myself a milkshake at our next stop! Good plan, me!

Geo: "Oh! I see houses!"
Snazel: *monotone* "False hope. False hope."

"Look! We're in Orc Country!"

I am writing this in the front seat of Fraulein's van Carrie, as she drives down the TCH. We are listening to John Mayer on my computer, and just finished milkshakes.

Is this a epic road trip, or is this an epic road trip? You're right, it's an epic road trip! You're so clever.... *pats you on the head*

We left our town yesterday, to travel to the West Coast (of Newfoundland), specifically, to /Location Censored/. Our friend Historian was getting married! Though of course, at this point, the proper tense is "is now married," but I'm hardly a grammar stickler. Only when i want to be. :D (Woah, Police car.)

*cough* Is it legal to be on a laptop in a car? I think it is.... It's not as though I'm the one driving, or anything. (Heheh, we just passed Boot Brook, where someone has nailed rubbers to the highway sign. This amused me.) ANYHOW. Yes, Fraulein is the one driving. It is her car, after all. I am merely a humble passenger.

We made the incredible and amazing five hour journey yesterday, and arrived at the church just as the decorating committee arrived. (That was a tire by the side of the road. Strangeness.) I should probably mention that the journey takes a normal person four hours, and certain members of Historian's family all of three hours. But we're nice law-abiding characters, and also we stopped at Wal-Mart to buy sandals and band-aids. Fraulein got some lovely strappy sandals, and I got a pair of black leather gladiator sandals. (This amuses me too.) (You know who makes good music? Terry Penney. You should go buy some. Especially the album "Time That Town Forgot". Go, look on itunes, gosh. *sings along to Plan B*) However, we did have a little tiny bit of trouble getting into Wal-Mart. We drove into the wrong parking lot, which didn't have an exit in the way we wanted to go. Well, that's no problem. We'll just cut across this flat empty lot and get into the right parking lot that way- It wasn't flat. That "empty" lot contained a marvelous selection of novelty potholes, to the extent that we conducted an impromptu test of the suspension, seat belts, and cup holders. The cup holders failed the test, but everything else passed with flying colours. GJ Carrie! (Which is the name of Fraulien's van, in case you've forgotten.)

When we got to the church, we helped blow up balloons at the church, set out tables, twisted streamers, and generally assisted in making the church basement beautiful. Then we went back to Historian's house, where Fraulein and I hung out played wii fit, tried on dresses, and talked with his sisters.

Oh! There was a previous triumph I should mention, where we dispensed with the mapquest directions and used an actual map to find the church. It was very exciting. Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, I have thrown continuity out of the window, there to shatter spectacularly and be run over. If you can't figure out what I'm saying, you don't deserve to know what's going on in my tremendous life! And the girls wanted to straighten my hair, and I said something about it previously having taken three people two hours to do so. They viewed this as a challenge. So my hair is now straight, and I don't recognize myself in the mirror. :D

In the morning we got a crash course in how to use the video cameras, and then we filmed the ceremony in the afternoon! (Someone left a red jacket by the side of the road.) This was the first ceremony that I've been to where I actually knew the people involved, which made it rather different. I was priviledged to be able to be zoomed in, via camera, on the faces of the (deliriously) happy couple, and they were very, very cute. *grins* They spent the time beaming at each other, and then being embarrassed about the people there, and then forgetting to be embarrassed and beaming at each other. Everybody together now, say "awwww!"

Which leads me again to hope our filming job was good... *nervous*

However, both Frauelien and I are working tomorrow, so we had to leave right after the ceremony. And now we're pelting down the highway, heading for home.

I hope we get to a Tims soon, I could really use some coffee.

Fraulein: "Your name is Fred!" *bites gummy snake* *pauses* "Oh, I really shouldn't have named my snake before I ate it."

"You burn like the sun, but all I need is the moon."

It's been sunny here for several days, and things are turning green. Green? What is this? This is Newfoundland, I'm not supposed to have to cope with green! The warmer temperatures have reminded me of the fact that my skin always decides to develop eczema  when I can walk around without a coat on. *sigh* At least I probably won't have to deal with florida temperatures this year! See, there is an upside to everything! 

And yes, this post really has nothing of note in it. You should just go give up and go to Tims, and drink some coffee. Doesn't that sound like a lovely plan? *nods* Yes, yes it does. Get me a medium double double double cupped, please?

At any rate, this is May Two Four weekend, based on the close proximity of Victoria day. Now, as everyone knows, May Two Four opens the national parks. Therefore, it's the beginning of summer camping seasons! Most of town, it seems are spending the weekend out at cabins, breaking in some Christmas Presents at the parks, or just pulled off the road at some gravel pits somewhere. (Wasn't that a clear sentence? I'm proud. I can write, I can!) This camping is unshakable tradition. It is also tradition that the weather is always AWEFUL for May Two Four. Spitting rain, sleet, fog, snow, clouds of mosquitoes, we get it all. And then when it snowed last weekend, the general consensus was that this weekend was going to be one for the history books. Flash floods and lightning strikes and things of that ilk were loudly predicted. 

Only now, as I think I have previously mentioned, it is sunshiny and gorgeous out. Newfoundland weather; never what you expect. 

"And if anything about this flight or the service doesn't meet your standards, please feel free to lower those standards!"

I went to Moon Unit's church on Sunday! She attends a Reform Presbyterian church. This was the first time I'd attended that particular denomination, and it was quite interesting. I realized the bulk of my church attendance, that I remember, at least, has been either Highly liturgical, fairly Charismatic, or home churching. And this was none of the above. :D *thinks* There's stained glass, and no organ or piano? How do I cope?!? 

However, I liked it. There wasn't the mega-church effect that inspires panic attacks in me, I agreed with the theology I heard, and the people seemed genuinely friendly, without stalking the new people. Also, there was coffee after the service, and then potluck. *big grin* Free food? I'm there! 

Then we had to go back home, get my luggage together, check for things left behind, and go to the airport. *cut to Moon Unit and I remaining determinedly up-beat the whole way, despite shakiness* We got caught in a small amount of traffic on the way. Not much, but just enough to make getting checked in and through security more URGENT than usual. 

So I checked in, in a matter of less then ten minutes- God Bless West Jet- and hurried down through security. Zaktrik had come to see me off as well, which was nice of him. At that point of panic about missing my flight, however, I waved, said good-bye, and dashed off through security with a minimum of protracted farewells to anyone. And I made my flight with minute to spare, which I am sure is a tribute to the power of prayer. 

However, once we got to Toronto, it chanced that only one of the runways was open. So we circled the city for some time. 

While we were circling, I realized, with a shocking lack of panic, that I had 35 minutes to make my connection. Before I started being delayed. Mmmmm. Well, if I got stuck in Toronto, I know people to call! And there's free internet, I could go to the Lush store, and it would make a great blog entry! Yes, that is the way I think, in actuality. However, we landed only a few minutes late, and I started walking quickly through the airport. Speed walk... And while speed walking, I hear the final boarding call for my flight come over the intercom. That is a marvelously motivational thing to hear. You find that your speed walking in heels can indeed accelerate even faster. 

Fast enough to see two other women closing in on your gate just ahead of you, and the door still open! Yay! We scurried down the tunnel onto the plane, the door closing behind me, and hurried to our respective seats. Whereupon we then sat on the tarmac for ten extra minutes, while the one usable runway was opened up. Air travel is so logical, timeline wise... 

Then I got into St. Johns, yadda yadda yadda, got my baggage, blah blah blah, took a taxi to Ms. B's house, yabbla yabbla yabbla, went to ring her to let her know I was there- and she doesn't have her apartment set up with a bell. Okay, I seem to remember something like this in the planning session. I am just gonna call her cell phone. Only I don't have a cell phone. Right. Okay, I'll ring the other people in the building who I know. They don't answer. No need to panic, no need to panic, I'll just log onto the internet- I have the password from when I stayed here before- and msn her that I'm here. A quick check later, I can't see her internet router. Maybe panic is a good idea... No, wait! I can just sleep here on the bench in the lobby until someone comes in, and get them to let me into the building! Only, I seem to remember that it's almost 1 o-clock, and I've heard complaining rumors about people coming in loaded drunk after midnight to this building, making all kinds of noise... So, uh, uh, uh, I'll go out and throw rocks at her window! Sadly, (and yes I am saddened by this, at this hour), I can't identify which one is her window. It's a three story building, and even shouting in my best WHERE-ARE-THE-NEFARIOUS-TRAITORS-WHO-HAVE-COMMITTED-THIS-TERRIBLE-TRESPASS voice does not provoke a magical turning on of lights or head at the door. 

This is about where I sat down on my luggage in the wet grass and reassessed my situation. It was after midnight. I was tired. I had no phone. I had no cash. I apparently had no place to stay. I was in the student ghetto. It was dark (but not raining!) 

What to do? I could go to the mall, which I could see, only they close at night. And so does the Tim's in the mall, obviously. And so does the University library, oddly enough. But there, there's the hospital! I can see it! Open 24 hours! And I know people there, I know the cafeteria, I even know where there are vacant couches! Plus, I only have to get on the bus in 6 hours, now. I can stay awake for six hours, if needed. Right? Right. Cue me standing up and getting ready to progress down the street. But then one little niggling bit of social graces in the back of my head mentioned that it'd be hard to explain why I didn't show up at Ms. B's apartment, after making all those arrangements. Plus I might need to explain to my parents.... I decided to try the other doors in the fire escape and such. Just in case. So I could say I really couldn't get in- oh look this one opens i don't have to sleep on the side of the hallway!

And I got inside, had a lovely time chatting and not sleeping with Ms. B, slept on the bus, and made it home without further drama. I even had a welcoming committee. 

The committee had put up a banner for me. :D