Celestandria
Flat prairies
Jul 02, 2009
I think I should be thankful that I live somewhere so flat that you can see straight to the next province. Heck, you can drive to Regina (although I can't imagine why you'd want to (sorry Saskatchewanites and Rider-fans), unless of course it was to see the WWE House Show on August 9th which I still really, really, really want to go to (if you know my husband, please tell him again how badly I want to see wrestling with him. (He's more-likely to consider it if he hears it from someone else.) Seriously, could you find a better wife? I am actually willing to drive for 6 hours to watch wrestling matches that will not be televised and are essentially just "practice matches." Dude, it's wrestling! Damn, I'm a catch!)) and there will be something in the middle of the road way, way up ahead.
After driving for an hour, it's still really far in the distance.
Drive for another two hours and it slowly gets closer.
You've been driving towards it for three hours, and you've always known it's a deer carcass that someone somehow didn't see come out of the cornfield (seriously, trees on the Number One between Brandon and Regina? Good one...) and is now lying dead in the road.
You drive for another 40 minutes and BAM! There it is, almost out of nowhere! It's like it just appeared. That's the problem with the prairies--you're driving towards something for so long, you forget it's there until it tries to kill you! But it makes for easier cycling. Our idea of hills and mountains compared to the real thing is like a piece of snot and a Wal-mart. (Ya, gross, maybe, and not so similar (considering one is green (if you have a cold) and one is blue), but I think it makes my point.) If I were from the Rockies and someone said they were going to Manitoba to go skiiing, I would be so insulted. "You mean cross-country skiiing?" I would casually throw in, trying not to sound so expectant. But when the reply is so obviously, "No, downhill of course! And maybe even snowboarding," I don't know that I would be able to contain myself. Isn't snowboarding on a flat surface called skateboarding? And shouldn't that snowboard have wheels? (Yes, I understand gravity, but it only works if your point of origin is higher up then your destination.)
But this is home (sadly) and where I choose to live (not by choice). I would love to ride my bike up a hill so mountainous that my breathing is laboured and my heart is beating so loudly I can hear it over my MP3 player; I would love to feel the beads (or buckets full) of sweat dripping down my back and neck, my face beet-red as I aim for the top, if only to experience the exhileration of the descention. Wind flowing through my hair, bugs hitting my soaking-wet forehead, the speed, the adrenaline: flying. Freedom.
They say the grass is always greener on the other side (until you get there of course). I think that is the only thing that would be untrue about my home. We are green. Very, very green. (Not counting the wheat fields...) Sure, they are greener places (like rainforests and River Forest, Illinois (according to the brochures for Concordia College circa 1999)), but I suppose I can enjoy knowing what's up ahead in the meantime. And isn't that what we're usually seeking? Answers? Well, the next time I need an answer, I'll just stand on a prairie highway and look ahead, and I'll know exactly what's next...
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After driving for an hour, it's still really far in the distance.
Drive for another two hours and it slowly gets closer.
You've been driving towards it for three hours, and you've always known it's a deer carcass that someone somehow didn't see come out of the cornfield (seriously, trees on the Number One between Brandon and Regina? Good one...) and is now lying dead in the road.
You drive for another 40 minutes and BAM! There it is, almost out of nowhere! It's like it just appeared. That's the problem with the prairies--you're driving towards something for so long, you forget it's there until it tries to kill you! But it makes for easier cycling. Our idea of hills and mountains compared to the real thing is like a piece of snot and a Wal-mart. (Ya, gross, maybe, and not so similar (considering one is green (if you have a cold) and one is blue), but I think it makes my point.) If I were from the Rockies and someone said they were going to Manitoba to go skiiing, I would be so insulted. "You mean cross-country skiiing?" I would casually throw in, trying not to sound so expectant. But when the reply is so obviously, "No, downhill of course! And maybe even snowboarding," I don't know that I would be able to contain myself. Isn't snowboarding on a flat surface called skateboarding? And shouldn't that snowboard have wheels? (Yes, I understand gravity, but it only works if your point of origin is higher up then your destination.)
But this is home (sadly) and where I choose to live (not by choice). I would love to ride my bike up a hill so mountainous that my breathing is laboured and my heart is beating so loudly I can hear it over my MP3 player; I would love to feel the beads (or buckets full) of sweat dripping down my back and neck, my face beet-red as I aim for the top, if only to experience the exhileration of the descention. Wind flowing through my hair, bugs hitting my soaking-wet forehead, the speed, the adrenaline: flying. Freedom.
They say the grass is always greener on the other side (until you get there of course). I think that is the only thing that would be untrue about my home. We are green. Very, very green. (Not counting the wheat fields...) Sure, they are greener places (like rainforests and River Forest, Illinois (according to the brochures for Concordia College circa 1999)), but I suppose I can enjoy knowing what's up ahead in the meantime. And isn't that what we're usually seeking? Answers? Well, the next time I need an answer, I'll just stand on a prairie highway and look ahead, and I'll know exactly what's next...
Music Confusion
Jun 28, 2009
Tonight is Craig David (Born To Do It, 2001), only because Theory of a Deadman has finished playing. I have the Winnipeg Public Library to thank for this blast from the past. I love borrowing CDs; then I don't have to buy the bad ones--and trust me, there are a lot of bad ones.
But this music is totally music from my past. I'm trying to think what I was doing then. Commuting to and from the city for 40 minutes-ish (on good, non-snow-filled days) each way to college in the middle of nowhere. I almost miss that place. Surrounded by endless fields, starry skies, the wind blowing in just the right direction filling the air with the scent of manure. Mmm, delish!
But those are probably memories best left to yesterday for tonight.
Besides, I'm confused.
About music.
I really don't get it--why do so many artists feel the need to drop their names in their music? I know who you are, Craig David, I put your CD on. And you don't have to tell me who you are T.I. or T.Pain or whatever your names are, I won't listen to you music anyway (wait, better yet, tell me so that I won't listen to it by accident (hee hee)).
I've got to admit, sometimes it makes sense. Madonna and Britney doing that one a few years back (Me Against the Music I think?). Madge kept dropping Brit's name and my hubby couldn't understand why Britney would repeatedly say her own name over and over again (you know how that is, male ears--they totally don't know the difference between voices). So perhaps for clarification purposes it's alright? But then is it necessary to keep repeating it over and over? I mean, I didn't think they sounded anything alike...
Tenacious D always makes me laugh (Yaks of the world, beware of Nasty-man's ability to kill you with mind bullets! Seriously--that's just awesome!), which is of course the point of their music, and they do drop their names a lot.
I guess I just don't get it. Rachel says, "does that make conversation better?" I don't know, Rachel doesn't know. Me, no, don't know, R-a-c-h-e-i-e-i got no idea!
Should I stop yet? Rach don't think so, yo.
Yeah, I'm gonna stop--I'm annoying myself.
Hmm.
Sorry, I was just thinking there for a minute. Seriously, I know no one who says their own name throughout conversations, not including introductions of course, unless they are selling something (i.e. themselves). Think about it. If Ronald says his last name somewhere, you know he wants you to come to his restaurant (but don't go, unless you want some McCramps, McStomachAches and a glass of diet McDiarrhea (which sounds incredibly appetizing, doesn't it? Kinda like being back at college. Sweet, that means I've come full circle. Now what's the literary term for that.....hmm.....yup, I got a Bachelor's degree for nothing (although I do have awesome letters after my name. Oh, and "wall art" with my name on it! Sweet!))).
Anyway, it's time to change my CD again. And that's my cue--put on more music or listen to my husband play rock band from downstairs. I love him, but I think I'd rather listen to Sam Roberts sing.
Cheers.
Keep living.
0 comments
But this music is totally music from my past. I'm trying to think what I was doing then. Commuting to and from the city for 40 minutes-ish (on good, non-snow-filled days) each way to college in the middle of nowhere. I almost miss that place. Surrounded by endless fields, starry skies, the wind blowing in just the right direction filling the air with the scent of manure. Mmm, delish!
But those are probably memories best left to yesterday for tonight.
Besides, I'm confused.
About music.
I really don't get it--why do so many artists feel the need to drop their names in their music? I know who you are, Craig David, I put your CD on. And you don't have to tell me who you are T.I. or T.Pain or whatever your names are, I won't listen to you music anyway (wait, better yet, tell me so that I won't listen to it by accident (hee hee)).
I've got to admit, sometimes it makes sense. Madonna and Britney doing that one a few years back (Me Against the Music I think?). Madge kept dropping Brit's name and my hubby couldn't understand why Britney would repeatedly say her own name over and over again (you know how that is, male ears--they totally don't know the difference between voices). So perhaps for clarification purposes it's alright? But then is it necessary to keep repeating it over and over? I mean, I didn't think they sounded anything alike...
Tenacious D always makes me laugh (Yaks of the world, beware of Nasty-man's ability to kill you with mind bullets! Seriously--that's just awesome!), which is of course the point of their music, and they do drop their names a lot.
I guess I just don't get it. Rachel says, "does that make conversation better?" I don't know, Rachel doesn't know. Me, no, don't know, R-a-c-h-e-i-e-i got no idea!
Should I stop yet? Rach don't think so, yo.
Yeah, I'm gonna stop--I'm annoying myself.
Hmm.
Sorry, I was just thinking there for a minute. Seriously, I know no one who says their own name throughout conversations, not including introductions of course, unless they are selling something (i.e. themselves). Think about it. If Ronald says his last name somewhere, you know he wants you to come to his restaurant (but don't go, unless you want some McCramps, McStomachAches and a glass of diet McDiarrhea (which sounds incredibly appetizing, doesn't it? Kinda like being back at college. Sweet, that means I've come full circle. Now what's the literary term for that.....hmm.....yup, I got a Bachelor's degree for nothing (although I do have awesome letters after my name. Oh, and "wall art" with my name on it! Sweet!))).
Anyway, it's time to change my CD again. And that's my cue--put on more music or listen to my husband play rock band from downstairs. I love him, but I think I'd rather listen to Sam Roberts sing.
Cheers.
Keep living.
Still sweaty...
Jun 27, 2009
I feel absolutely fantastic, although I'm sure my knees are going to hate me tomorrow. Sure it was cement, but there was a carpet on top--doesn't that count for something?
What's that knees? You say no?
You're probably right. But cardio is cardio, and it counts.
69 minutes.
(That was so not done on purpose; please, I am not a pervert.) And my step count really needed it. I hit over 10000 again. Yay.
My eating needs some work. At least today. OK, on most weekends. I find I don't do as well. It's probably a lack of structure.
I'm listening to Keane right now. Perfect Symmetry. Fantastic album, better group. I highly recommend.
My thoughts are all over the place right now. It's actually quite refreshing. There's no one single thing pressing into my brain saying, "pay attention to me, I'm important." Is this what it feels like to not be stressed out? Because I should be stressed out. Thank you endorphins. It took long enough for you to kick in. And I want to keep you around, even if my black tank top must remain damp for a few hours longer, thankfully not smelling of perspiration (WARNING: Product Placement Ahead: And thank you Degree Clinical-Strength anti-perspirant for women in sheer powder; you are a delight). It feels good. I love being a woman who doesn't mind getting sweaty or dirty (despite my obsessive hand-washing, but that's a good thing and the result of years of working in the food industry and having a nurse for a mother).
It's barely after 10 p.m. and my office is a mess. I should clean (Damn you, Priorities!), I just don't feel like it (Damn you, Procrastination!). I think I might listen to my Instant Karma CD (The Amnesty International Campaign to Save Darfur). I know I can't change the world tonight, but it will probably motivate me to tidy up the office. Tomorrow I can focus on feeding orphans and saving lives. Tonight I think I just need to save my own life...but I'll get to that explanation another night.
Cheers. Live well.
0 comments
What's that knees? You say no?
You're probably right. But cardio is cardio, and it counts.
69 minutes.
(That was so not done on purpose; please, I am not a pervert.) And my step count really needed it. I hit over 10000 again. Yay.
My eating needs some work. At least today. OK, on most weekends. I find I don't do as well. It's probably a lack of structure.
I'm listening to Keane right now. Perfect Symmetry. Fantastic album, better group. I highly recommend.
My thoughts are all over the place right now. It's actually quite refreshing. There's no one single thing pressing into my brain saying, "pay attention to me, I'm important." Is this what it feels like to not be stressed out? Because I should be stressed out. Thank you endorphins. It took long enough for you to kick in. And I want to keep you around, even if my black tank top must remain damp for a few hours longer, thankfully not smelling of perspiration (WARNING: Product Placement Ahead: And thank you Degree Clinical-Strength anti-perspirant for women in sheer powder; you are a delight). It feels good. I love being a woman who doesn't mind getting sweaty or dirty (despite my obsessive hand-washing, but that's a good thing and the result of years of working in the food industry and having a nurse for a mother).
It's barely after 10 p.m. and my office is a mess. I should clean (Damn you, Priorities!), I just don't feel like it (Damn you, Procrastination!). I think I might listen to my Instant Karma CD (The Amnesty International Campaign to Save Darfur). I know I can't change the world tonight, but it will probably motivate me to tidy up the office. Tomorrow I can focus on feeding orphans and saving lives. Tonight I think I just need to save my own life...but I'll get to that explanation another night.
Cheers. Live well.
The First Night
Jun 26, 2009
This is my first time ever doing a blog or anything online like this, so please be patient with me. I am sort of anti-technology, which is ironic considering I am studying new media and design in school (hence the reason I am not as good at it all as some of my classmates. (It might also be of note that as a communications student, I went an entire semester without a cell phone--if that's not an achievement, I don't know what is!)). It took me forever to join Facebook, mainly because I didn't want to be found. I was so ashamed of myself I didn't want people I grew up with or those who knew me when I was fit and healthy to see what has become of my life.
But I'm working on it.
And yet I am still not really satisfied. I have a long journey ahead. For those who decide to take it with me, I thank you now; your presence will be an incredible blessing as I move forth into self-discovery and self-apperciation. For those who take one look at me and shake their heads, I will one day learn not to care what you think.
I know this journey will be difficult. It already has been, but the weight has begun to come off. 245 down to 229. I'd say do the math, but it's really not that difficult--I only make it more so. And with that, I will do one squat for every pound lost.
(insert brief fitness break)
And just like that, 16 quick squats done. Alas my work has been paying off--not a drop of sweat (although still a little too heavy on the breathing. OK, for that amount of work, a lot too heavy on the breathing).
But it's closing in on 11 p.m. and I need to do some writing. No, I actually want to do some writing. It's been too long since I've worked on any of my projects. Perhaps another night I will leave you with an exerpt.
Until then...Live
0 comments
But I'm working on it.
And yet I am still not really satisfied. I have a long journey ahead. For those who decide to take it with me, I thank you now; your presence will be an incredible blessing as I move forth into self-discovery and self-apperciation. For those who take one look at me and shake their heads, I will one day learn not to care what you think.
I know this journey will be difficult. It already has been, but the weight has begun to come off. 245 down to 229. I'd say do the math, but it's really not that difficult--I only make it more so. And with that, I will do one squat for every pound lost.
(insert brief fitness break)
And just like that, 16 quick squats done. Alas my work has been paying off--not a drop of sweat (although still a little too heavy on the breathing. OK, for that amount of work, a lot too heavy on the breathing).
But it's closing in on 11 p.m. and I need to do some writing. No, I actually want to do some writing. It's been too long since I've worked on any of my projects. Perhaps another night I will leave you with an exerpt.
Until then...Live
