News update

The morning show host called today to confirm that I'll be going live bright and early tomorrow. Just typing that made me feel nautious. I have to meet the host in the alley behind the building at 7:32 a.m. because no one will be at the front doors that early. If you think that sounds like the perfect setup for an ambush, I would have to agree.

A little slice of karma

After quitting my job in cosmetics for the second time, I never got around to giving back the long black jacket that was my uniform. The first time I quit, I took the jacket back. A year later when I asked for my job back, it was still sitting in the back closet and I'm pretty sure my nametag was still pinned on. So I was in no hurry to return the jacket when I quit again last summer.

Well, yesterday my eight-year-old sister and I went rummaging through all the closets in the house to get her enough dress-up clothes to fill a tickle trunk. I saw the jacket and announced that with it she could be a lawyer, a cosmetician, a scientist or a pharmacist. When she was excited about all the possibilities, I took the jacket off the hanger for her to try on.

Left forlornly on the hanger were my favourite black pants -- a pair I'd been grieving for since I first noticed their absense. They still fit as perfectly as I remember. Guess if I keep someone else's clothes, it's only fair that mine should be lost too.

After my sister has one last fun time doing scientific experiments in the jacket, I'll have to take it back to the store.

One more weird thing

When I eat easter bunnies or other candy forms of humans or animals, I always bite the head off first. I feel creepy eating them one bite at a time starting from their feet with their unseeing sugar eyes watching the murderous progress my gluttonous teeth are making.

Six weird things about me

1. Every night I pee before I brush my teeth and wash my face. Then I pee again. Sometimes I'll empty the last trickles from my bladder three or four times before I go to bed. (This habit could date back to the barbaric kid's camp I went to where all the kids had to bring ice cream buckets to make sure we had something to pee in if we woke up in the middle of the night. Seriously. There were perfectly good bathrooms, but we weren't allowed to wake our counsillors up to ask them to take us. And we certainly weren't allowed to go anywhere by ourselves in the dark.)

2. I have such gangly, long toes that I've thought, albeit fleetingly, about getting plastic surgery on them.

3. I turned down an internship with CBC radio last year to spend the summer unemployed, painting and enjoying the sun. And I loved every second of it.

4. I once got broken up with in a text message. Classy guy, huh?

5. When I sugar my armpits, I feel strangely satisfied not only with the new smooth patches but also with amount of pain I know I can tolerate.

6. I've stopped liking money. I feel selfish even having it. Once my student loan is taken care of, so a year from now, I want to become a wild-haired, barefoot woman doing some kind of volunteer work in a jungle far far away.

To my most hostile visitor

"Jesus loves me,"

Guess what? I went to the doctor today about my scratchy throat and after a few sympathetic noises he said I have tonsillitus -- not an imaginary illness. So unless my hypocondria is so severe that it causes my body to manifest actual symptoms, I would like to take this moment to point out that I was right and you were, most unfortunately, incorrect in your latest diagnosis.

A few days ago before your comments turned less mean and even shockingly nice, I showed one of my sisters what you had written. She was horrified and couldn't understand why I kept laughing.

Despite your often vulgar language, open hostility and the personal attacks you seem to thrive on, I find that you write the way my classmates and I have been trained for editorial writing with your mixture of facts, quotes and biting criticism.

You're so sarcastic and so backed up with facts that it's difficult to argue with anything you have to say. If I were an editor, I'd hire you in a second for the scathing political commentaries I'm sure you could provide -- although there'd have to be a clause somewhere in the contract limiting the use of profanities, of course.

Too bad we have similar ideas on reproduction, because I'd like to battle you in such a subjective debate. A duel of logic. A war of the keyboards. A match between my education and experience as a reporter against your name-dropping, thoroughly-researched arguments.

But then again, it seems both of us are pretty stubborn, neither would ever concede defeat, and I would more likely than not end up with a few fish carcasses buried in my attic.

Oh, what a night!

Tonight was the documentary screening and everything went wonderfully. The police chief, a representative from the network that will be airing our work, the dean of our faculty and a few others including our executive producer spoke to introduce the documentary.

I missed part of the beginning because I was in the hall giving an interview to CTV.

And while I was doing that interview, a recruiter from CJME radio spoke with my other classmates asking us to apply to work for him and asking us to go live for a 15 minute interview on Monday. Either no one else wanted to get up early enough to do or they thought I'd do a good job, so I guess we'll find out if I do in fact vomit live on the air.

But back to the screening... The documentary was shown on a huge screen and looked even better than on my standard TV. Even though I have a lot of the script memorized and have seen the show dozens of times, it still gave me chills sitting in the audience. I'm fiercely proud of our show and afterwards we received so many compliaments that I was almost getting tired of saying "thank you," shaking hands and smiling. It was fantastic.

And we all looked so good too, if I do say so myself. Three of us were even wearing full suits!

I've been getting used to wearing my suits so often that it's a little sad hanging this one up while not knowing when or if I'll ever have another event to go to where a suit is required.

To end the night, a few of us went out celebrating. And it turns out that journalism grads are pretty much allowed to pick any field they want to get their masters in and -- with permission from the department heads -- are allowed to skip the two more years of credits other students have to gather before being able to enter their master's program. So maybe I will go for a sociology masters or English or philosophy or political science or human justice or something entirely different. Who knows.

It's sad that this part of my life is ending, but so exciting to see all the possibilites ahead.

I wish ...

... that Blogger would get a system to check spelling and grammer. Or that if there is one, that I would stumble across it soon.

When will I learn?

I have bad reactions to a lot of over-the-counter medications.

There was the time when I took an extra-strength tylenol and had a sharp, terrible pain between my ribs.

Another time I had a severe cold and took one of those Neo-Citrin drink mixes. Laying on my bed, I felt I was hovering above my body.

Then there was the time I had tonsillitus and was given little orange pills instead of the usual red and black capsules. I couldn't breathe and felt a huge pressure in my chest -- it was coming from my heart and felt like my body was trying to push my heart out. And my esophagus and heart appeared florescent yellow to me, like they were radiating from my torso. I stumbled from work to the doctor and was told that what I experienced usually occurs before someone dies from their medication. I'd take tonsillitus over deathly hallucinations any day.

Despite all my past experiences and the fact that I take as little medication as possible -- perhaps 3 or 4 regular strength Avils in a month -- I decided to self-medicate again. The documentary showing is tomorrow night and I woke up this morning with a moderately sore throat -- the kind that gets progessively worse. I really didn't want to be sick at the screening because I've been looking forward to it for months and am so proud of the show. So I dug around in the medicine cabinet and grabbed out two cold and sinus pills, expecting foolishly to feel better in a few hours.

Unfortunately I had another reaction to these pills and spent the day shivering and barely able to move. The effects are starting to wear off now and I'm sure a good night's sleep will make a big difference.

Next time I'm sick, I think I'll go back to drinking sage tea and eating licorice root. And eating kids' Dimenitap teddy bear suckers.

Phew

It turns out that the interview with CBC radio is live after all. And it turns out that another one of the girls really wants to do it. Excellent. That means I won't vomit live for thousands of listeners to hear.

A bit of bragging

All the marks are in for this semester. And they're good! Good enough for honours! Yay! And to think I was worried I might never graduate and that maybe I couldn't do well in school. It sure is a nice way to end my four year stay.

That isn't the only good news I've heard today...

The documentary I've been working on all semester with my classmates is now finished. The documentary is about child abuse and we produced it for a local organization that is working to keep children safe. The organization has watched it and loves it. They're having a screening fundraiser on Thursday night to show it off.

CBC radio is interested in our screening and wants to interview someone from our group tomorrow afternoon. I volunteered to do the interview and now I'm getting nervous. I'm way more comfortable asking the questions than responding to them. It better not be live in case I throw up in the middle of the interview!

I just found out that the show is going to air on TV! It will be showing on a local station on May 2. Even though we were prepared to make major changes to the show if the broadcaster wanted us to, they want it as it is and only suggested minor changes in the credits. I'm so proud we made something that good. Our success with the documentary means even more because it's about something so important and could make a difference.

Crispy warm

I arrived in a mountain oasis late last week and went for a walk on Sunday in a skirt and light jacket. Although the sun was shining, it snowed quite a bit.

Well every day since then, I've been checking the forecast before heading out. All week the forecast has read -3 with 15 km winds. That's what the "current" forecast is even though my shoulders are ferociously red with my first sunburn of the year. And I can't even be annoyed because it's so nice to warm and to know that winter won't be back for many more months.

For whom the bell tolls

I an on holidays in a mountain-y town in Alberta. Today I decided to take a break from the others on the holiday and went for a long solitary walk.

I came across the town's graveyard and stopped to visit. When the sun is shining and a gentle breeze, graveyards are so peaceful and beautiful. I saw where a one day old had been buried and where two fifteen year olds were laid to rest. I saw the grave for a man who had been the town's first pharmacist and who had served in WW1 helping with first aid. As I walked among the graves, I wondered about the lives these people had lived and the famlies and friends they had left behind.

Near a war memorial was one of those plastic windmill flowers, spinning around and around. It seemed so symbollic to me, a guarantee that as long as the petals were turning, the deceased could never be forgotten.

(The groundskeeper disagreed with my theory though. He said more likely the windmill was just an impulse purchase from the dollar store.)

I continued on my walk and on the way back I saw the same groundskeeper chinking away at the ground infront of a double headstone. And as I watched him, I wondered about who had just passed away when this poem came to my mind:

"Do not ask for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee."

And if I were left to rest in a graveyard where the sun shines and a light breeze blows a windmill around and around, it wouldn't be the worst thing I could imagine.

The bridesmaid dresses

One of my sisters is the maid of honour in a wedding next week. The girl who is getting married, a cousin of ours, lives in another province and the dresses she wanted the bridemaids to wear weren't avaliable here.

So my sister and the other bridesmaids sent their measurements in and the bride mailed out the dresses to the girls. When my sister got hers, it was way too big. So, like anyone would do if expected to wear a strapless dress 4 sizes too big, she took it to a seamstress. She dropped the dress off yesterday and asked them to put a rush on it.

Well, late last night when my mom was talking with my aunt, it seemed there may have been a mix up. It looks like the bride mailed the wrong dress to my sister and sent her smaller dress to a bigger bridesmaid. Oops.

The bride hasn't been told about the possible fiasco yet.

(Is it wrong that I think this is funny?)

Free

Yesterday I wrote what could have been my last exam ever. And today I am putting the final touches on my last essay. I don't feel ready to be kicked out of my little cocoon yet. A few people from my class have jobs already -- one is going to Toronto, one to Edmonton and two to film a documentary in India. But most of us have no idea what to do now.

I'm going on a family holiday for about a week and will take my paints and enjoy the sun and the mountains. And besides walking across the stage in June, this holiday is my only solid plan for the rest of my future.

It's scary not to have a plan but it's also exciting to know I could go anywhere and do anything. Just for fun, I applied for an internship in Africa. There are positions all across the continent and they'll pick where I go if I get the job. Who could ask for anything more than a free flight and a guaranteed adventure?!

My kickin' masseuse

Remember how my masseuse is in martial arts?

She told me today how she's glad for her training because it's come in quite handy for her. For example, once she parked at an offsale to grab a case of beer when some crazy guys started jumping on another girl's car, denting it. When the girl told them to leave her car alone, they said: "Fine. Then we'll just jump on this other car."

When my masseuse heard them, she said, and I quote: "You jump on my car, and I'll jump on your face." Then she wrestled one of the little thugs to the ground and drove off.

Another time she walked out her office to find a guy sitting in her truck, looking for her keys. The passenger door was open and he was sitting with his back to her. When she saw him, she went up to him, grabbed him by the back of his jacket and started shaking him and yelling.

My masseuse is so tough, like superman.

And she's cool too. She's a masseuse to the stars and will be massaging Tommy Lee and others backstage at the coming Motley Crue concert. A few years ago, she was asked work backstage for a Britney Spears concert, but she politely declined. Instead, she chooses to massage me.

Fraud

I am thinking about committing insurance fraud and feel more nervous about being audited that guilty about the fraud itself.

It's kind of tricky explaining the scenario without mentioning the other parties involved, so these individuals or companies will just be referred to by letters.

About three months ago I went to A. for assistance with a problem I was having and was reasurred that any money I paid up front would be fully refunded. I had the choice of filling out a lot of paperwork and sending the claim to B., or doing nothing and sending it to C.. C. refused the claim, saying it had to go through B. first until B. wouldn't pay anymore, so A. and I worked together to get everything cleared up and sent it to B.

The problem is that A. charged more than B. is willing to compensate because A. billed me incorrectly from the start. (A.'s billing would have been right if C. was paying, but B. gets a discounted rate). A. and B. have discussed the situation with each other and with me, and neither is willing to pay the difference. A. says B. has paid the full amount before, but B. says I need to get the money back from A..

But then A. came up with a brilliant idea: fraud.

A. suggested writing false receipts for dates when I didn't receive treatment and submit them to C. because C. isn't aware of the problem and pays for the treatment when B. has covered all it will.

Is this wrong? It's all money I paid that was guaranteed to be covered by either B. or C..

The amount I was shorted is only $70, but I'm really poor and that money would sure come in handy. I just don't want to get caught and be accused of doing something illegal. And it's only "sort of" fraud, considering that I'm only asking to be refunded the money I already spent....

What a dilemma. But I think it's at least somewhat justafiable. It's not like I'm trying to extort anyone. But even so, I feel a little guilty confessing what I'm thinking of doing.

Magical skin recipies

A few months ago I read a book about how toxic cosmetics and all kinds of beauty products are. Instead of continuing to rub lead and other deadly chemicals on my face, I started making my own concoctions. Besides being safe to use, good for my skin and easy to make, they're also really cheap. I've used up only about $5 worth of ingredients although I've been using these products every day and whipping up batches for friends.

Here are some of the simplest and most useful ones I've tried.....

Honey Lip Balm:
1 tsp grated beeswax
1 tsp almond oil or any kind of vegetable oil
1/2 tsp honey

Directions: Boil water in a pot on the stove. Put the beeswax in a tin can (an empty old soup can will do) and lower the can into the water, making sure no water gets inside. Add the oil to the wax and stir until the wax is completely melted. Then remove the mix from the boiling water, add the honey and keep stirring to keep the mixture from seperating. When it cools down, put it into a little container. If you find it too thick, heat again and add more oil. If too thin, heat again and add more beeswax.

Hydrating Facial Lotion for Sensitive Skin:
3 tsp grated beeswax
8 tsp almond oil or any kind of vegetable oil
1 tsp honey
5 drops lavender or rose essential oil (optional)

Directions:
Follow the same directions as for lip balm. Apply to slightly damp skin and allow it to absorb before putting makeup on. Because the lotion and lip balm have many of the same ingredients, it's easy to make them at the same time.

Facial Exfoliator:
1 tsp baking soda

Directions:
Dampen skin, then rub baking soda in using a circular motion. Rinse and pat dry. Follow with lotion or your skin will feel very dry. Do not do this treatment more than 2 times a week.This exfoliator works just as well as NeoStrata's $70 kit. I love how smooth it makes my skin feel.

I have a lot of recipies but this is enough for now. If anyone is interested in hearing more, just let me know and I'll do another post.

I like her anyways

After months of ferocious massages each week that leave me sore for days afterwards, I finally learned what my sweet young masseuse does for fun .... she's in karate. So after she's done massaging me, she goes to the gym and shatters boards with her fists.

She told me about karate while pummeling my back and for few minutes I couldn't stop thinking that I was feeling my bones crack under her hands. Then she started on my neck -- which I already hated because it both tickles and feels gross -- when I started to worry that her fingers pushing on throat might accidentally push all the way though to my esophagus. Eww.

Normally I love my mean massages because it means I'm getting better after having been in two car accidents a few months ago. (One was my fault for not paying attention, the other was my karma catching up to me). But now that I know my masseuse could kill me if she felt like it or wasn't paying attention, it's a little scary.

But in between the most hurty parts, I love going for massages. I just never want to hear about her martial arts skills again.

Manners

When walking past an aquaintance while eating, which is less rude: a closed-lip smile and/or little wave, or pushing the chunk of apple into your cheek and mumbling "hi" ?

I am not

I am not the kind of girl who wears $80 wicking spandex reflective pants.
I am not the kind of girl who wears a fanny pack -- no matter how effectively it may hold a water bottle.
I am not the kind of girl who eats a chocolate bar half way into a two and 1/2 hour workout to give me enough calories to finish.
I am not the kind of girl who enjoys making small talk with people twice my age, with whom I have nothing in common, for hours while sweating.
And I am not the kind of girl who likes running a brutally-fast speeds for dozens of kilometers.
In short, I am not the kind of girl who runs half-marathons.

After months of running outside in the cold, on ice and snow with constant knee and ankle pain, I finally gave up on my half-marathon training class. And I'm so glad I did.

Some of the people I ran with think of themselves as "athletes." I don't want to be an "athlete." I just want to love being outside, running, walking, roller-blading or laying in a hammock. My whole life feels shinier now that I've stopped forcing myself to do something I hate.

To do

So the paper I was having a hard time starting has finally been handed in. In my last post, I hesitated mentioning what my topic is because I thought readers might find it less than hard-hitting and investigative.

But now that it's done, I can tell you. It's about Charlotte's Web and Bambi. And yes, I am, in fact, in university.

Now all I have left to do is:
- one small essay
- a little pruning of another essay
- one final exam dealing with issues like "Why do most children's novels start in the spring?" "Why is magic a common theme in children's literature?" etc.
- final revisions on a group project documentary
- attend graduation parties
- wear an ugly gown and pointy-foreheaded cap in public
- decide on the future I want to have

Those seriously are all the plans I have for my entire future. And it's not because I just haven't haven't thought about it. There are too many choices. Too many jobs to get, places to see, other degrees to earn .........

But, hey, at least school is going well.

Procrastinating

Today I was supposed to do homework all day. With only a week and a half left of school, everything is due soon. But the weather is so nice that I can't make myself do any work.

Today instead of writing my 8-10 page English essay, I've eaten almost an entire pizza, sugared my legs, tried out my new acrylic paints, made a little batch of cookie dough (yes, just dough, not actual cookies), gave myself a facial, talked on the phone and checked out random internet sites.
Needless to say, my essay isn't coming along so well. I don't even know if I have time to finish it now.

But that won't stop me from watching Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy tonight. After all, a girl has to keep her priorities straight.

Flattery and presents

After having had four of my baby teeth pulled out in order for the dentist to dig into my gums and remove the adult teeth under them, you might think I would hate the dentist.

X-rays showed that I have six -- yes six -- wisdom teeth. I've already had two taken out, with four to go. And factoring in assorted cavities and floride treatments too, it would be reasonable to think I would despise the thought of the dentist chair and the tray of shiny silver torture devices.

But I really don't mind the suffering.

You see, every time I go to the dentist the hygenists and the dentist always say, "What nice, straight beautiful teeth you have." (They say this despite the fact that my teeth are monstrosities. The biggest ones are literally the size of chicklets.) The dentists' compliaments always make me laugh to myself because it reminds me of Little Red Riding Hood. There's nothing like a heavy dose of flattery to make minor surgery more bearable.

And of course the free toothbrush and dental floss are nice parting gifts.