A Canadian Girl

Our leader sucks!

2009-07-08T18:29:00.003-07:00

Did you read about the G8? That they decided to cut back emissions by 80%... but governments could pick their starting points.

The EU choice? 1990 levels.

Canada? 2006.

What a crock of sh*t.

http://www.timescolonist.com/news/Canada+board+greenhouse+plan/1770552/story.html

Funky Times

2009-06-29T15:11:00.001-07:00

I haven’t post in a while. Actually, that seems to be the running theme of this blog. I used to be on the ball per say but after being home for two years, I’ve come to the point that I just don’t think my life is that interesting anymore. Or maybe it’s just that I’m in a bad mood lately. One of the two.

School finished on the 10th and it was a mix of emotions. Portfolio was way more stressful than I anticipated (and more expensive - $500 for 13 photographs and a book). So, I was happy to be done. But in a way, I was also sad. It was a great year that pushed me in ways that I never would have imagined.

A week later and I was in my program manager’s office to find out if I passed or not. I had pretty much convinced myself that I failed. I suppose that is a force of habit. Can’t be disappointed if you are a pessimist. But, I had passed. I didn’t get the greatest grade but really, photography is subjective. That’s what I keep telling myself anyways. I haven’t had the urge to look at the judge’s comments as of yet. You can view my portfolio on my professional blog http://www.sharinak.com/ . I will have them up on my website http://www.sharinakagawa.com/ soon but websites take so much more time than blogs to look pretty. Even one that is a template like mine.

So, yes I’ve graduated. For the third time. And now I am in a complete funk. As I sat and stared at the ceiling yesterday, it dawned on me that I am not good with change. Well, to be more accurate, I am not good with change that I did not initiate. When I decide change needs to be done, it is fantastic. But when someone else pulls the strings on me… deep and utter funk.
It’s a good thing that this is the year of yes otherwise I probably would only leave my house for work. Did I ever mention the year of yes? I decided as one of my 2009 goals that when someone invited me out to an event or whatever, I would go no matter what. If I went and it wasn’t my scene, I could definitely leave but I had to at least go. And thus, I’ve gone to some strange things over the last few months.

Where was I going with all this? Except for the photography classes I have been teaching, I haven’t really picked up my camera since I finished my portfolio. Which is bad. Which is why I’m going to give my 365 project another go.

On another note, I’m a bit creeped out by how much the planets align for me. When I returned how from Japan, there just happened to be a position at my best friend’s company starting within a week of me looking for a job. And there just happened to be a cheap apartment available the day before I was to start work. When I decided to go to photography school, there just happened to be a part time position that worked perfectly with my school schedule. And finally, just as I was starting to freak about working this part time position because of a total lack of money, a position in my old department opened up. Before I knew it, I was signing a contract.

Yay.

One final story before I leave work. Oh yeah, writing blogs at work. So productive. I went to a bar on Friday night to watch a friend’s band. All the people I went abandoned me for a smoke break (when did I become friends with smokers?). I’m playing with my cell phone. And this old dude (who I have my back to) tries to start up a conversation with “konnichiwa”. Seriously. SERIOUSLY! Does that sh*t even work?

Meh. If I was in a better mood I’d probably think it was hilarious. As it stands, meh.

S.

Whhhheeeeeeeeeeeee

2009-06-02T17:01:00.001-07:00

I finally got my portfolio. The book that is. I ordered one... decided it was the wrong size, ordered another one... waited... nothing... panicked... looked at a local store... nothing.... ahhhhh... clerk found one in the back of the pile. Yay!

Got some of my prints back today. Makes me feel... like a real photographer.

I'm almost done!

The heat makes me want a patio... I need a drink.

My other blog...

2009-05-19T17:19:00.000-07:00

I'm cheating on my blog. With another blog.

www.sharinak.com

This one goes with my website.... and will have pictures from photo shoots. Check it out.

Ha~!

2009-05-18T21:26:00.002-07:00

I've been super busy.

School has ended and I am facing portfolio. It is a bit scary as if you don't pass portfolio you don't get your diploma. And portfolio is judged by three people who don't know you. Basically, your photos speak for you. Which is cool but also makes my knees quake.

I have done 9 shoots in the last 3 days. I'm exhausted. So last night Jason persuades me to go out. Which is fine. I had had about a bottle of wine already by myself so I was okay to go out.

So we head to Soprano's, where Jason's sister works. The place is ... strange. It is a karaoke bar and it is full of older people. A guy from work's band was playing. They are called Oh Snap. I did their press pictures.

The night was clicking along as all nights out drinking click along. Drink, have small talk with your friends and people watch. Then this dude sits down. I'm putting him about 50ish. First Nations. He proceeds to have a long conversation with Jason. Then, just as he was leaving.... he leans over to talk to me. Grabs my hand in a homey grip (you know... thumbs intertwined). Tells me that minorities need to stick together.

Mmmmm-hmmmmm.

A little while later he finds me again. Puts his arm around my shoulders and tells me that I am a hot woman. Which is nice enough but dude... you are not going to kiss me. Seriously. No. Ew.

I had to perform the under the arm maneouver. You know... where you duck under the guys arm to get away from him.

Then Ashlea told him to leave her friends alone.

It's always interesting when you go out....

S.

Kiva

2009-05-02T10:20:00.003-07:00

In December I made my first donation to Kiva. Kiva is a microcredit non profit organization that lends money to people who would never qualify for a bank loan. By lending these small amounts, people are able to drastically improve the quality of their lives. The repayment success is over 98 percent.

I lent 25 dollars to a woman in Uganda. Kiva took my money and the money of others and lent Benna Akiya 4500 dollars to help expand her beer business. The money was repayed by April (which to me is amazing, as I couldn't repay that much in four months).

Kiva gives the money back to the lenders to do with what they wish. You can either relend it or take it back. I relent. Here is the email about it.

S.

Hi!

I just made a loan to someone in Uganda using a revolutionary new website called Kiva (www.kiva.org).

You can go to Kiva's website and lend to someone across the globe who needs a loan for their business - like raising goats, selling vegetables at market or making bricks. Each loan has a picture of the entrepreneur, a description of their business and how they plan to use the loan so you know exactly how your money is being spent - and you get updates letting you know how the entrepreneur is going.

The best part is, when the entrepreneur pays back their loan you get your money back - and Kiva's loans are managed by microfinance institutions on the ground who have a lot of experience doing this, so you can trust that your money is being handled responsibly.

I just made a loan to an entrepreneur named Prisons B Afeku Getrude Group in Uganda. They still need another $325.00 to complete their loan request of $600.00 (you can loan as little as $25.00!). Help me get this entrepreneur off the ground by clicking on the link below to make a loan to Prisons B Afeku Getrude Group too:

http://www.kiva.org/app.php?page=businesses&action=about&id=106210

It's finally easy to actually do something about poverty - using Kiva I know exactly who my money is loaned to and what they're using it for. And most of all, I know that I'm helping them build a
sustainable business that will provide income to feed, clothe, house and educate their family long after my loan is paid back.

Join me in changing the world - one loan at a time.

Thanks!

---------------------------------------------------------
What others are saying about www.Kiva.org:

'Revolutionising how donors and lenders in the US are connecting with small entrepreneurs in developing countries.'
-- BBC

'If you've got 25 bucks, a PC and a PayPal account, you've now got the wherewithal to be an international financier.'
-- CNN Money

'Smaller investors can make loans of as little as $25 to specific individual entrepreneurs through a service launched last fall by Kiva.org.'
-- The Wall Street Journal

'An inexpensive feel-good investment opportunity...All loaned funds go directly to the applicants, and most loans are repaid in full.'
-- Entrepreneur Magazine

It's been awhile...

2009-04-25T11:59:00.001-07:00

Rina and Cale
Originally uploaded by sharinakagawa

It's been awhile since I last blogged. It just seems the more you have to do, the less you actually want to do.

I am a week and a half away from being done classes. Then I have one month to complete my portfolio and then ... done. Done, done, done. It feels like it should have gone on for longer but seeing as how broke I am, it's probably good that it isn't.

Classes are overall good. Some good marks, some okay. I managed to get the top mark in business class. Apparently, even if I don't become the best photographer, I may actually make it in this business. Here's crossing my fingers.

The photo I did above is for lifestyles class. Had to direct two people (okay, so maybe I only directed the one) to convey an emotion.

I rearranged my house last week. That is a classic sign of "Shari doesn't want to be here". Something about rearranging makes it feel like I'm in a new place. But, having no money means I will be stuck here for the time being.... going to have to make due.

S.

Strange Days

2009-03-04T08:01:00.002-08:00

On Monday, I took a slightly different route to school. I was 2 minutes down that road when a man stopped me. A man in a wheelchair. A man who didn't appear to speak English. Actually, he didn't seem to be able to speak at all.

He motioned for me to push him. I'm a nice person I suppose, so I did.

His approval was punctuated by ho hoooooing (that's the only way to describe it) and by thumbs up. I figured he wanted a ride down the street. But once we were at the crosswalk, he motioned that he wanted to go up the hill. Have you ever pushed a person up a hill? It's a lot of work. Plus I had two bags on me.

I got up the hill and he motioned, ho hoooed me and thumbs uped me to continue. Suddenly the thought crossed my mind that I was saddled with this guy.

About 6 blocks later, he made me cross the street. Which was fine because I was going that way. But then he wanted to continue. I had to go to the film store. I told me I had to leave him there. It made me a little nervous. I live near a mental health facility. Did I just help him escape??? He took my hand, shook it and then gave it a big kiss. I turned and quickly made MY escape into the photo store.

When I came back out, he was gone. Guess he found another willing pusher.

S.

A little bit of a size difference

2009-02-14T11:35:00.001-08:00

A little bit of a size difference
Originally uploaded by sharinakagawa

I'm not entirely sure when we all became adults. Long ago, it was when you finished high school. You graduated, you got a job, you got married, you were grown up. But my generation is different. We flit around for years, blowing in the wind as it were. Or perhaps it is just me. Because one day, I woke up and it was 10 years from high school. 10 years. I was still blowing around but a quick glance around at my friends, and instead of the young-ins that I once knew, there were adults in their stead.

Scary.

Houses have been bought. Vows have been said. And now, the first baby of my close friends has been born.

There is no denying it. At the tender age of 28, I just can't get away from the fact that I am indeed an adult.

Last weekend, I headed up island to celebrate the birth of Cale. It's very strange to think of Rina as a mommy but when there is a baby in the room, there is no denying the fact. Cale was very quiet and basically slept through the shower. And I was relieved to find that my friends didn't go all "gooey" on me. The shower was basically adults hanging out with two babies in the room and presents for Rina.

At the end of the shower, I did a quick shoot with RIna. Didn't get exactly what I wanted but I got some salvagable images.

S.

Cutest Thing in the Whole World!

2009-02-09T07:37:00.000-08:00

Just saying.

S.

Busy busy busy

2009-01-28T07:38:00.002-08:00

Gosh, it's hard to believe how busy one can get just like that. School started, it seemed like another easy breasy semester and then boom... assignments up the ying yang.

One of these days I'll actually have something funny happen to me that I can blog about that does not have to do with Photography. Maybe.

Until then ... check out my student website. I'll make a fancy flash one when I finish school but for now this is it. www.sharinak.com

Must go. Photoshop class today. Then 6 hours of studio time.

S.

Advanced Lighting

2009-01-10T20:40:00.002-08:00

The school brought in one of the top photographers from Vancouver to teach us advanced lighting techniques. Which would have been super cool if people hadn't talked all the way through the 4 days! I'm turning into one of those students... the ones the snap at the youngin's . Well... it was bound to happen one day.

Jan 5

Jan 6

Jan 7

Jan 8

Jan 9

Jan 10

I figure it's easier to upload them once a week. The guy from Vancouver has 3 intern positions for Western students in April and goddamn it, I want one!

S.

Day 4

2009-01-04T22:03:00.001-08:00

This picture a day thing may be harder than I though...

S.

At work

2009-01-03T16:55:00.002-08:00

Ah work... does anyone actually like their work???? Anyone??

S.

Hello 2009

2009-01-02T19:23:00.003-08:00

Ah, the first new post of the new year. This is invariably the moment where one does the "New Years Resolution" Thing. A friend remarked the other day about how hostile people seem to New Year's Resolutions. It seems to me that the hostile ones are probably the ones who tried, failed and now want to poop on everyone else's parade. Well, this is my parade and only I can poop on it if I wish.

The reason people fail at NYR's is that they make them too broad or too life changing. You want lifestyle altering. Make that a goal, not a resolution. Yes, there is a difference. Goals are constant, attainable, subject to setbacks and ongoing. Resolutions require you to do something that moment and for evermore with no failing allowed.

Please. We're human. Thus, we fail.

So my ongoing goals of being healthier, school, work etc are something I discuss ongoing with my mentors. Resolutions, I figure, for me are a little different. Just changing a small outlook on life.

1. Don't take out the Ipod so much.
There has been much said about living in the moment. But when you live in a bubble of music, then you fail to see moments around you and you fail to connect with those around you. Sure, they may be weird old men who think you are Japanese and want to take you for coffee and chase you through the mall... but really, if I had my ipod on I would have missed such a good story.

2. Take more pictures. Love your camera more.
That is the resolution. The goal attached to it is my 365 project. One photo everyday, for one year. I started on the first.
Jan 1 , 2009

Jan 2, 2009

3. Don't say no to opportunities to have more fun.
I don't think I need to explain this one.

So, hello 2009. I think you may be bound to be an interesting year.

S.

Goodbye 2008

2008-12-31T17:47:00.002-08:00

Ah, 2008. Another year gone. Another year gone too fast.

It's always interesting writing a year introspective. It's like opening a present... you never know what you will find underneath the layers.

This has been the first year in a long time where I haven't moved, or traveled. The story of my life for the last few years has been movement. Going here and there. I never knew exactly what the next month would hold. But this year, except for a few trips up the island and to the mainland, has been here in Victoria. Stationary. This was the year of goals.

Ever since I graduated from University I have gone by whim. Applying for jobs, moving cities and countries, trips, parties... it has all been with whatever my mood was at the time. Even when I got stuck as it were, it was because of my attitude at the time.

But this year, I made goals. I credit my mentor group. I highly recommend mentor groups. They are extremely motivating if for no other reason than you do things because you don't want to look like an idiot or lazy in front of other people. I am pretty proud to say that I accomplished most of my goals this year.

1/ School.
After waffling for quite awhile, I finally decided to leave the boring office job (somewhat, for I can't afford to be jobless) and go back to school. And not just school in general. I decided to go back to be a photographer, a long unrealized life ambition. It hasn't been easy and there have certainly moments when I have wanted to give up. School is hard to go back to, especially when you are used to having money and then suddenly, having none. I am now a mature student and hanging out with 18 years sure can make a girl feel old. But overall, it has been a totally rewarding experience. Challenging. It is amazing how much I have learned.

2/ Dance
You think I would have always done this. I certainly have danced around my apartment enough. But it was finally this year that I realized that I would never go to the gym and if I was going to do the workout thing, it was going to have to be doing something I enjoyed. So I signed up for belly dance and flamenco lessons. I'm not a natural dancer but I work hard and I enjoy it like nothing else I have ever done. It is rewarding because you can feel yourself getting better.

3/ Volunteer
I've had to quit for the time being because of school but for 6 months, I volunteered with immigrants learning English as a second language. Simply put, the funniest people I have ever met. And nothing will give you a new perspective on your culture than from immigrants. I can't wait until I have time to do it again.

4/ Health
This is ongoing but I'm trying to eat better and take better care of myself. But some weeks are good and some are bad. But my group makes sure that it is always on my mind.

The only goal I set that I never accomplished is taking French classes. I did try but the class didn't run because of a lack of students. I figure, I've done pretty well with the other goals... one undone isn't too bad.

It's been an interesting year. My years in Japan were so big just because of the personal growth. It's not something that can be measured but being challenged on a daily basis does good things for a person. This year, I don't think I've grown that much. It's been more of a take stock year. But I know one thing for certain. My gypsy tendencies have not gone away. I long to leave again.

It's just a matter of figuring out how to make it happen.

I'm planning a quiet night to celebrate 2008. I don't go out for New Years anymore. It feels too contrived. Fun is only fun when it is spontaneous, not forced. So, I will stay at home and wait for 2009. New start. New goals. New outlook. New motivation. And perhaps, somewhere in the future, new locale. Only time can tell.

Happy New Year.
S.

Kiva

2008-12-25T14:03:00.001-08:00

I made a donation to Kiva today and if you have an extra 25 bucks, it would be fabulous if you could too.

S.

WARNING: Don't read if you are a big fan of Christmas

2008-12-24T11:29:00.002-08:00

I woke up at 6am this morning. The dream had awoken me. The dream featured me getting into a fight with someone about how wasteful Christmas lights are. Apparently even in my dreams I can't stand Christmas.

5 years. I think it's been 5 years. 5 years ago the decision was made- no more presents. My sister and I decided that. We tend to make these alternate society decision together. We basically decided there was only 2 reasons to celebrate. One - religious. Us- so not religious. Two - mass consumerism. Yeah.... I'm so down with mass consumerism.

And with no more presents came a shift to December. Suddenly, there was no more stress. There was no more haunting the mall. There was no more worrying about the perfect present or if your present is nicer or crappier than the other persons.

I thought it was great. Christmas could just be about a nice dinner with the family. Except, you take away the presents, all of a sudden the whole thing about the season loses its luster. It becomes a caricature. Santa becomes a symbol for the over indulgence of our society and our trying to buy traditions with fancy paper and mounds of chocolate.

People call me a grinch. Fine. But seriously, all I can think is how can someone possibly want a real Christmas tree. With the global warming epidemic, why on earth would you cut down a emission fighting tree just so it can die slowly in your house gaudily covered with tinsel? And OMG the paper. Sure you recycle the paper, but the first R is reduce! And don't get me started on the amount of plastic bags used during this season.

I know people would argue with me and say that Christmas isn't about those things, that it is about family. I don't get that either. There are only two types of families at Christmas. First, there is the fabulous type that you just can't wait to see. So my question is why do you need a certain season to see these fabulous people? Why can't you be a family person all year long? The second is the I can't believe I have to spend another season with my family, they make me crazy. And my question to this is- why even freakin' bother? If you don't like the people, why on earth would you spend days with them when you don't have the excuse of escaping to work?

But don't worry, you can buy love. Just find that special gadget.

I also don't get the dinner but that isn't the environmental, anti consumer me. That is the vegatarian me. I won't get into it.

On this exciting note, I have decided to forgo family this year. No christmas. No family. No gifts. Sounds lovely. Basically, my parents are spending their holidays with their other families. I was invited but one is going to be filled with children spoiled beyond belief and the other family, well, would make me want to stick a knife in my eye.

I'm spending the day at my friend's. They will eat goat (I don't get it, but they are from Saskatchewan, and thus defy definition). I will drink. Sounds like a good way to pass the time.

And I've already decided. I'm spending next year somewhere that Christmas doesn't exist. Or maybe exists in a different fashion. For example, Christmas in Japan involves eating a strawberry topped white cake and then having sex.

Just saying...

S.

Things Happen for a Reason

2008-12-17T20:18:00.003-08:00

It is snowing in Victoria. This makes me very sad.

Anyways, this isn't what the post is about. I just thought I'd comment on how much little white stuff from above makes me an unhappy girl.

I am a big believer in things happening for a reason. Not in a religious sort of way. More like, subconsciously you knew that these things needed to be and thus, made it happen that way.

When I was in Japan, I got a promotion. With it came about a 300 dollar raise per month. Except that suddenly, I went from part time to full time. And with full time came paying into health care and the national pension. So basically, I got 20 bucks a month more to do a shit load more work.

Sucky? Yes. But because I was not planning on living in Japan my whole life (yeah, right) I could cash out the pension when I left the country. It was brilliant. Like enforced savings.

For the whole year I was a supervisor, I safe guarded my little blue pension book. It was like holy mecca. The key to the money. The reason for all my suffering. Kept safe in my desk at work and when the time came to leave, safely transported home.

Except when I returned to Canada, there was no blue book. I went through everything! EVERYTHING! It was no where. And thus, all that money that I had slaved for evaporated.

I called the company. They couldn't do anything. I called my old boss. She tried to get me a new book but because she wasn't family, nothing could be done. I needed to do it but they only spoke Japanese.

Alas.

Eight hundred dollars of pension down the tubes. Move on. It's just money.

Fast forward a year. I finally have gotten over the fact that the money is gone. I should just throw out all the forms to claim the money. I pull out the folder and dump the contents. And there. In the middle of all the forms. In clearly, the only place I didn't check. Out slid a tiny blue book with Japanese writing on it. Pension!

Yes, it was an OMG OMG OMG moment.

So, I filled it out and sent it away. And nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Months.

I despair. It got lost in the mail (I don't have the greatest confidence in Canada Post). My friend emails me that she sent hers in July (I sent mine in May) and she had gotten a letter about it already. I figure that this money is not meant to be.

I focus on studying. But school is expensive and I have gotten used to living on much more money. And then the day comes. I have 30 dollars in my savings and 1 in my chequing and a whole hell of a lot on my credit card. Broke my friends. I went home. Opened my mailbox. And there inside was a letter with Japanese writing.

My pension was on its way. Check the date. It was going to appear in my account the next day! And... go to xe.com and work out the conversion... it is over double what I had expected.

So the money came and I have been saved for the rest of the year. Happy day.

If I had gotten the money last year or even last summer, I would have blown it. It came the day I truly needed it. Perhaps the book knew this and that is why I couldn't find it for so long.

S.

Argh

2008-12-08T12:10:00.003-08:00

So I finally went for my first physical. Yes, I know I'm 28 and it is long overdue. In my defense, I did go for 2 semi-physicals in Japan but the results were in ... well... Japanese. And personal health is a bit awkward to have someone translate for you.

The physical was fine. The not fine thing. I'm anemic. Yup, I guess not eating meat for 6 years will do that to a girl. I mean I eat seafood and beans but I guess it's not enough. So now I'm on iron pills.

Iron pills that do a number on my stomach.

Health. Why can't it just be easy???

S.

My First Job

2008-12-03T14:05:00.002-08:00

Oh yes. That goal that all aspiring photographers yearn for... money for their photos. Say whatever you want, but it truly is what distinguishes the amateur from the pro.

About two months ago I was offered a job photographing Island Saving's Christmas party. It was not offered to me by my mom (who works there) so therefore it is legit. Naturally, the only words out of my mouth were "hell, ya."

I sort of forgot about it and then all of a sudden, the time has passed, and the party is staring me straight in the eye. There first thing I have to note is that photographers have far too much gear. As I was packing it up to head up island, I realized that if my mom hadn't offered to give me a ride to Nanaimo, there was no way in hell I would have gotten it all up there.

So fine, I go to Nanaimo and there I am setting up. The lighting is shitty in the conference center. The guy who came to talk to me showed me the dimmers. He walked away and I immediately cranked all the lights in the vicinity. My assistant Bonnie showed up at 5:30 and by that time, people had already lined up to get their photos taken.

Have I ever mentioned that I hate people?

Especially those girls that think they are super hot, but really are wearing tranny type makeup. I have to give it to them though, they can hit the same pose each and every time. I know, because they kept coming up for more and more pictures.

I was supposed to print on site. Which, had I thought about it, is a stupid thing and puts too much pressure on the photographer. But I didn't and at 9 pm I was attempting to print. Except the printer provided was a free one that someone at Island Savings had gotten with their computer. It printed 3 good prints and then every one after that came out red with lines through the face. Which made me look really professional in front of all the drunk people demanding their photos.

The photos? Some are great. Some are soft. Some have bad backgrounds. Oh well, I sure didn't get paid enough for perfection.

But I sure did learn.

S.

Entry

2008-11-23T17:33:00.003-08:00

Photography is a cruel mistress. She giveth and she taketh away.

I've had moments of sheer exhilaration in the last few weeks. Moments where I thought I could do anything.

I've also had moments where I felt worthless and my inclination was to give up and quit. I'm not sure why. I'm not a quitter by nature. I stick. But there was a moment when I was sitting in my room and all I could think about was how easy it would be to give up. To go back to my office job. To be... well... ordinary. Not that I think people who work office jobs are ordinary but me at an office is an ordinary me. But it would be easy to be ordinary. To go back.

I won't. I'm competitive by nature and by family trait. I'm a Nakagawa. We are, above all, competitive with ourselves.

I think I just need to push myself more and critique myself less. My photo session with Tawny was not as good as I would have liked but it was not as bad as I made it out to be. There is a guy in my class who wants to be in the other group because their critiques aren't as harsh as ours. In my opinion, our critiques could never be as harsh as the one that is going on in my own head. I'd say maybe he should live in my head to get a taste of harsh, but I can't stand him, so we won't go there.

No one ever said chasing the dream would be easy.

S.

Tomorrow

2008-11-03T22:13:00.002-08:00

Please. Please. Please.

Please let Obama win tomorrow.

I'm not sure who I'm asking, but please.

S.

Happy Halloween

2008-10-31T20:04:00.002-07:00

It's tough. It's tough being a mature student in a world of 18 year olds. It's tough being a student and not making enough to pay rent and food on your pay cheques. It's tough trying to find balance between work, school and life.

Of course I'm being a bit melodramatic because I did have 2 double margaritas at dinner. Tequila makes me reflect. Most people it makes heave until their innards threaten to expel out of their bodies but for me tequila just makes me reflective.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm very grateful to be in school. There have been a few moments where I have thought" what the hell am I doing?" but I have those about everything and at this point in my life have to consider them normal. I'm certainly not the best photographer at school but I know I have improved by leaps and bounds from the beginning of September.

I'm also grateful that I do have a wonderful family and wonderful friends.

Yesterday I was supposed to be a Madonna. I always said that I would go to Madonna if she ever came to the west coast of Canada. The boys got tickets months ago and I said I would go. But I had to reconsider. Between school and money how was I going to have the time and money to go. So I told the boys to sell my tickets.

Painful.

So, last night at 10:13 my phone rang. It was Stephen. I picked up and heard a bunch of sounds. Stephen didn't say anything. It took me a while to realize it but it was the concert I was hearing and more specifically, it was La Isle Bonita playing. My favourite Madonna song. Jason and Stephen knew I wanted to go so they did the next best thing. I couldn't really hear what was going on but that didn't matter.

In the end nothing really matters but the people in your life and the direction your life is going.

S.

Learning Curve

2008-10-24T20:00:00.003-07:00

It's been a month and a half of school. I knew I would be learning photography until it was coming out my ears. I just had no idea that I would be learning about myself as I went along.

I have a tendency to second guess myself. I have had it all my life. It is the reason I get lost so easily. I go the correct direction, stop, figure I'm wrong and head out in the wrong direction. After wandering, I usually figure out that I was correct in the first place.

And yes, I get lost everywhere. It's a curse.

So, I second guessed myself on a test. I knew the answer, thought about it, changed it and low and behold, when I got the test back the first thing I went with was the correct answer. Again, this happens a lot. That's me at school and I accept it.

But here is something new I learned about my second guessing...

We had an assignment in Composition and Design, to create a self portrait using colour to showcase ourselves. I decided on red because it is my favourite colour. Yes, I am that literal. I also choose it because in our culture it stands for competitiveness, strength and boldness. Some of these things I am, and some I wish to be. And as some say, fake it til you make it, right?

I did three different shoots. I wasn't sure what I was looking for. After a few "nice" pictures, I would get bored and experiment with expressions. I shot loads of stuff, most crap but a few pictures worked out.

I was immediately drawn to one picture. It is angry. Yet, it is also a bit intimate. It was a bit too close to me to show the world. But, I kept going back to it.

In the end I choose another picture to hand in. I went safe. I received my in class critique, learned a few things.

Then I went to the teacher for my one on one critique. She looked at the one I had handed in and then she looked at my images. And she went immediately to that angry image. We talked about it and I realized that that image is more "me" than the one I handed in. Inside I am angry. I'm angry about the world, and people's apathy. I'm usually angry with myself about something or other, although this is lessening with each year. The teacher wanted to know why I went with safe when I had taken an image that had the definite grab factor???

I swore when I went to Japan "safe Shari" would go into the closet as it were. It took almost the full time I was away to get closer to the person I wanted to be, but closer I did get. I got bolder. I put myself out there more. I grew.

So, it's hard to go into school and hear about how I am being too safe and should go with my gut on things. It feels a tad like I regressed. No more. I will not be safe. I will go for it. I will never second guess myself.

Onwards and upwards.

S.

PhotoClub

2008-10-15T21:45:00.005-07:00

Human Problems

2008-10-13T22:40:00.003-07:00

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I had a pretty shitty weekend to be frank. Yes, it's Thanksgiving and we are supposed to reflect on all the lovely things that have happened to us this weekend. OK. So I'll start with that. Here's my list of thanks:

deciding to go back to school.
deciding that school is in fact, the shit.
realizing that being 28 and being back in school is actually a good thing and thank gawd I'm not 18 anymore.
finding a job easily that sort of fits in with school.
my awesome friends and family.
my sister lending me a cat for awhile.
Canada.
that friends made abroad don't have to end when you stop being abroad.
soy products.
my mentor group that keeps me on track.
chocolate.

Well, you get the picture.

But let me describe my shitty weekend.

It all started by heading north to my mom's house for Thanksgiving. My sister abandoned me for her "has to work all weekend" boyfriend and leaves me all alone. All alone in a house of 14. Fourteen people I want to smack that is. Honestly, "kiss my butt" is not intelligent dinner conversation for 50 year olds. Neither is sex innuendo's when offspring are around. Granted the offspring are in their 20's and 30's but still.... EW.

So, the mom of this clan is a little rude. You know the type. The ones who start conversations with "I don't mean to be rude but..." and then say the most horrible shit. Or just start with the shit and end it with "I'm just kidding" five minutes later. Old people just figure they can get away with their lack of manners, when in fact they have never had manners and are now just blaming it on their age. This lady told my mom she looks 60 (she's 48 and does not look past her age) and then proceeds with the just kidding. Is it rude to smack an old lady??? Even if she is in her 80's?

Said lady then proceeded to get drunk. Or maybe she was drunk already. All I have to say about the whole thing is... 20 disgracefully drunk, kinda funny, 80 and disgracefully drunk, pretty pathetic. 80 and puking in the bathroom. That just puts a topper on the Thanksgiving.

Did I mention that the power went out?

The next day, after trying to sleep off my memories of the night, my mom brought me home. The cat was whining at the door. At first I thought she was hungry. But maybe she was whining about the huge puddle of water on my kitchen floor. The power had knocked out my fridge and the power bar had failed to kick in when the power resumed. Thus, flood. What a mess.

But I suppose it could all be worse. When I was walking home from a friend's house today I saw two raccoons. One raccoon in one tree just looked at me with its beady eyes. The other raccoon high-tailed it up the tree. Or maybe the term should be highed up the tree because this raccoon had no tail. No tail. Just a stump.

And I thought I had problems. At least all my limbs are in tact.

S.

Fitness

2008-10-01T11:44:00.002-07:00

I made a pact with myself that I would get more exercise and eat better. And so far, it has been going well. Seems that when I'm not tied to a desk job I take better care of myself.

Laura told me about a website - www.mapmyfitness.com - which tracks your workouts. Even has Google maps so you can see exactly how far you went. I've been using it and it is motivating.

Going back and forth from school and doing projects, I racked up 132 km in September. And that's only counting walks that take over 30 minutes. So I know I walked much more than that. I bet more on par with about 170 km. I also did 10 hours of dance classes.

On the eating front, I have barely eaten out all month. Most likely I just needed to get away from Stephen and his bad influence. Or that I just happen to be home around lunch time so I just make something.

I guess September is the month of new beginnings. Going back to school. Getting an exercise regime. Eating regime. Feeling much more motivated in general.

Yay.
S.

Custom Heist

2008-09-29T14:26:00.004-07:00

Ah, the great Custom Heist. Here's the lowdown.

I went to work on Sunday. I do projects now for the online division. I work on the weekends in the wee hours of the morning. Okay, so 7-3 but that's the wee hours for me.

I went to work. Whipped through the project like no one's business (I'm stupidly productive when I put my mind to it). Left at 10 am. Went home and had a nap.

No big deal. Typical Sunday.

Except that it wasn't.

At 3 pm Jason calls me. Am I still at work? Nope, why? Because a former employee has broken into Custom House, and is currently on top of the building threatening destruction. Apparently he had gotten in at 11:30 am. I missed the drama by an hour and a half. Which is fine. If I had been there I probably would have been involved all day, Police reports, blah blah blah. But, because I had been so productive, I was at home when I got the call and thus, could head back downtown with my camera.

The police had roped off about 4 blocks of downtown Victoria. However, unlike most countries where the thought of a possible bomb would make people scatter, Canadians gather in potential descructive locals. The police had a tape across Fort street and that's where I headed. The crowd was thick as you could actually see John on top of the building from this location.

I pulled out my camera and my big lens (70-200 mm telephoto). Normally when crowds gather I can't get to the front. People guard their positions. But with my big lens, the crowds parted and I was ushered to the police tape. It was almost like.... I ... was.... legit. Ha!

I made friends with some press people. Not much was going on because at this point, he had been up there for 4 hours. The main point of his being up there was for his website where he accused top executives of money laundering. Riiiigggghhhhttt, because who is the public going to believe, executive of a corporation located in 7 countries or a crazy man on top of a building who got fired ABOUT A YEAR AGO.

Eventually he gave up and I went to Beacon Hill park. The peacocks were nice enough to pose for me.

Crazy day.

S.

Sha sha sha...

2008-09-22T19:13:00.004-07:00

Hello Blog.

It's been a while. Well, a couple weeks as it were. I was doing well with updating but you know that I went back to school, and I'm sorry to say but school takes preference over you. I know it hurts but it's the truth. I know you have been with me for almost 3 years but this is it. You will have to get used to less contact I suppose.

What can I tell you?

I'd love to tell you that school has been awesome thus far. It has been good, yes. But awesome. No, not quite. See, here's the thing. The first week was okay. It was speeches but only by the owner dude. The owner dude is a business man and seriously needs to take some toast masters speech classes. Put 60 students in a room with no ventilation and a man with no personality in his speeches. ZZzzzzz.

Week 2 was better. We had a our first few computer classes which were just as boring. There is an older lady in my class who is certainly NOT computer literate. I mean, she knows how to turn it on and use the basic functions, which is more than some people know. But, come on, not knowing what a jump drive is? An external hard drive? How to load a program? She better hopes she rocks the photography classes because she is going to be left in the dust once we start Photoshop. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for her, she has decided to sit next to me. If she was sitting next to the techno dudes in the back, they would speak in jargon too high for her. But lucky, she is sitting next to the ex-ESL teacher who has a tiny bit of knowledge about computers. I don't know everything but I know enough to understand everything thus far in class, and I know enough to explain it in simple terms. The other day I explained the difference between uploading and downloading on the internet to her. Yes, I know. I'm a bloody saint Blog. A bloody nice saint.

The first assignment in Composition and Design was to use a photo booth to create gestalt principles. I did a recreation of getting ready for flamenco dance. It went okay. I got okay feedback and in the end received a 7/10. Strangely, the first attempt I did which was abstract and in my own words was "yuck, yuck," got a more positive reaction from the teacher today at my one on one critique. I suppose I need to let my artistic side out more to play. She is kept hidden and only let out when there is jewelry to be made. Otherwise, my analytic side finds her embarrassing.

I think the hardest class for the time being will be fundamentals. Mitch went over aperture and shutter speed on Thursday this week and I thought I had it. Field trip time and it turns out I have them backwards. I really need to wrap my head around these things... just need time.

I have done half the assignment on aperture and shutter speed. Got Jason and Stephen to make their dog run back and forth in the backyard. I think the effect is pretty cool.

This is a slow shutter speed. Dog is too fast to catch.

Fast shutter speed captures it.

So blog, that's it. I think I may kill myself this year. School complete with projects, work, dance classes (even more than last year) and trying to have a social life. Here goes nothing.

Forgive me if I forget about you for a while. I will always come back. Promise :)
S.

This is me

2008-09-11T10:46:00.001-07:00

I have been eating far too much cake for breakfast. Yes, birthday cake but still...

I also have a serious addiction to rearranging furniture. I think something is wrong with me. Instead of doing homework I just rearranged my entire apartment. All 200 feet of it!

S.

Another year gone

2008-09-07T19:26:00.003-07:00

Today is my 28th birthday.

I'm mighty pleased with myself as I have not sunk into a black state this year. I have no wallowed in my own inevitable doom. There has been no counting the years til I die.

A good birthday.

Sure, the gray hair seems to be a standard thing now, no matter how much I pull it out. Sure, my back is starting to fail on me. Sure, I'm starting to wake up earlier and earlier.

I spent the weekend in Nanaimo. Made pickles with Dad and Tammy. Had drinks and karaoke with the girls. Had dinner with Mom.

I always feel the notion at this point in the year to summarize, to ponder. This year, I don't feel like it.

I feel fulfilled.

I think its directly related to going back to school. I feel motivated. Hell, even though I am a mature student, I feel like things are happening.

Besides, 28 ain't old. Unless you compare me to my 6 month old brother. But that's okay. I wouldn't change my 28 years for all the rides in the jolly jumper there were.

S.

Off to school I go...

2008-09-03T07:44:00.002-07:00

I'm off to school today. And I think I feel as giddy as a 6 year old headed for grade 1.

Excited.
S.

Another year. another job

2008-08-29T19:10:00.002-07:00

I walked out of Treasury today. I turned my back on a decent job for a dream. I made myself damn happy.

This job was a god sent. Actually, that is incorrect. This job was a best friend sent. Because Jason found me the job. Who walks off a plane after living abroad for 2 1/2 years and 2 weeks later has a job?

I'm a lucky girl.

Because without this job I don't know where I would have been. I recklessly spent most of my savings in Europe. I refused to live with family. It could have gotten bad. But soon the money was coming in and there was enough to save.

The job was boring and made me want to shoot staples into my eyeballs some days. But the people were fun. And that does make all the difference.

I sure don't regret the year I spent at this job. I learned some thing. Mostly I learned, that despite my saying in a loud voice for 3 months in Japan about how I really really really wanted to work a "corporate job", it is soooo not me. I'm not a corporate girl. I'm not a repetitive girl.

Nothing tried, nothing learned.

I walked out of Treasury and into the next step of my life.

Yay.
S.

Pop

2008-08-28T16:18:00.001-07:00

All my life I’ve had weird dreams about teeth. Usually it involves my teeth just popping out like nobody’s business. Pop. Out they fly. I’ve read on the meaning of dream sites that losing your teeth means that someone close to you is going to die. But I don’t believe that because if there was a direct correlation between my dream teeth popping out and family members dying, I would be so very alone in this world right now.

Which I’m not.

Anyways, because of these dreams and because of my mother’s horrific dislocating jaw whilst getting her wisdom teeth pulled, I have never wanted to have any teeth pulled. My old dentist told me I didn’t need to have them pulled and I clung to that belief for years. Course, he also put huge ugly veneers on the front of my teeth, so what did he know? I went to my mom’s dentist a few years ago, and he was so gung ho to get my wisdom teeth pulled out he wanted to make an appointment right away.

Me: I can’t. I’m moving to Japan.

Dentist: Well, maybe we can fit you in tomorrow.

Me: I’m moving to Japan tomorrow.

He looked at me skeptically. Probably he had heard every excuse under the sun and figured that this was just that. But it was the truth. I boarded a plane to Japan the very next day. And with all my teeth intact.

In Japan, I had dental. However, if you have ever seen the state of some Japanese people’s teeth, you would understand why I never used my dental. That is a country seriously in need of braces. The whole country. They should just round them up and install mandatory braces on each and every one of them. And teach the children how to brush. I’ve never seen so many black teeth on 5 year olds before. Yick.

So I came home and got myself a job that had dental. I finally hauled myself to the dentist’s office (that first day he removed my ugly and cracked veneers, so basically I love him now). And low and behold, he wanted to take out my wisdom teeth. Sure, there were good reasons, impacting, infection, blah, blah, blah. Then he said the magic words “what if something happens while you are in school and you aren’t covered?” Me, in all my cheap glory, panicked a little at that thought. I told him that I had 3 weeks left on my dental before I quit my good job and if he could do it before then, well, have at her.

Turns out he had time.

Since I didn’t have to miss any days of work, we decided to do one at a time. It’s easier on the body, you can still eat and you heal faster. Good idea. So one Thursday afternoon I made my way to the dentist’s office. He pumped me full of freeze. The feel of the needle going into my gums sent me into a total panic. I had to seriously focus and get my breathing back to normal. Dr. McAnn said I was quite white in the face. Me. Who has 3 tattoos, freaking from a freezing needle.

After I was numb, Dr. McAnn leaned over me. I figured he was putting more freezing in. Then he kind of rocked something a little and then he was asking for the forcept and pulling out my tooth. Shocking how easy it came out. I wasn’t even swollen.

The next week I went back for the other side. Got my freezing done and kept myself much calmer this time.

Dr. McAnn tried to sit down and pop my tooth out, however, the angle wasn’t good.

So he stood up, leaned over me, braced and

POP.

There went my tooth. Flying over my head and across the dental office. FLYING!

The assistant picked it up and offered it to me to take home. Ew.

So after years of dreaming that my teeth just pop out, it turns out, that my teeth do in fact, just… pop…. out.

"For a girl with delusions and a bit of imagination, becoming a fag hag was the only way to go." ~Simon Doonan

2008-08-25T17:25:00.003-07:00

My boys got married!

I arrived with Grant and Lola in Ladysmith on Friday, ready to set up for the big day. What we met were boys with a tad bit of nerves. I don't understand how it can be nerve racking to marry someone you've been with for 5 years, but most people don't understand how I think if I ever was to get married, city hall would do. Different strokes you know.

Jason had secretly flown out from London (UK, not Ontario), Stephen's best friend to be at the big day. It was shocking because secrets are impossible to keep for those two, because, well, Stephen is naturally suspicious and Jason naturally has a big mouth. Having Dean there made the event. Mostly because he organized that wedding party. Without him, I suppose, I would have had to do it.

There was only one major freak out. Which in the grand scheme of weddings is pretty decent. That involved the buckets that the white wine was supposed to go in. They had decals on them. They needed to be covered. So at the last possible minute, just moments before we had to jet to dress, the wedding party was covering the buckets in napkins and tulle. Except me. I was re-doing the place setting because one sister had done them like you would do the family dinner table and the chef sister wasn't having any of that.

We headed back to the B&B and set about purtying ourselves up. Grant and I sat and wrote our speeches. He went with sappy. I went with as funny as this girl could muster in the circumstances.

Hair was done by Lola whilst I sat on the toilet. Make up done. Dress on. Let's jet peeps.

We arrived in the house and then it all began. We were supposed to do the ceremony in the neighbour's yard but the weather did not want to cooperate. It started to pour. The guests were ushered into the dinner tent and we did it all on the dance floor. Matt played Across the Universe as we walked in through the rain.

I cried.

Just a little. Mostly because I've never seen my best friend looking so freakin' happy.

The ceremony was over in moments but was exactly as I would have pictured Jason's wedding, moving with just a touch of humour. Lovely.

Just as the ceremony ended the rain let up and a big gay rainbow filled the sky. If there was a god, I'd say that this wedding was blessed. As it was, I'd say it was ready to party!

We sat at the head table for maybe 5 minutes. Then it was on to mingling, drinking, mingling, drinking. I don't think I ever filled up my glass but it was never empty.

Speeches came next. I prephased mine by "I'm Shari, and I'm a tad drunk". Not bad huh? Never did claim to be a classy girl. I talked about how Jason had made each other do things. He got me drunk for the first time. I made him break up with his first girlfriend. (I may have even called her a skank). Then I told them how Stephen had come into Jason's life when he was probably at his lowest and when I returned, Jason was at his best, most productive, most happy. And that makes this girl happy in return.

Then it was onto busting a move. I may or may not have bailed on the dance floor. No one seems to remember it but me, so I'm not sure.

Then it was 2 in the morning and I was outside waiting for a car with Dean. We just looked at each other happily and drunkenly. Our best friends had gotten married.

The next day I was the only member of the wedding party left. I had to suck up my hangover and perform the opening the gift ritual of cleaning away paper and writing down who had given what.

Then the boys dropped me off at the bus stop and they were off on their honeymoon. I went home to drop. Weddings. Exhausting.

Exhausting but wonderful.

S.

Tams got hitched

2008-08-17T10:32:00.002-07:00

"Shhhhaaaarrrriiii, my bridesmaid has the flu, my dad tore his Achilles and it looks like it's going to rain on my wedding day."

Every bride freaks out I'm told, even those who are cool, calm and collected. That was a phone call a few days before the big day.

But the day was lovely. Alina, the bridesmaid sucked it up. And Tamara's dad walked her up the aisle with crutches. We make due.

Tamara and James. Ah. So many years ago, Tamara and I were in the same situation. We both had best friends who were guys. Tamara loved to tell me how Jason and I were perfect for each other and we should just get on with it. I would always respond with how she and James would be a perfect couple. She would always scrunch up her nose and say "eww".

James, after bouncing from University to University, was in Toronto doing his undergrad in music. Tamara went to visit him as best friends are bound to do. But something happened on that trip and Tamara came home best friendless in a sense. In the best possible sense.

After about 6 years, living together, living in different countries, living separated in different countries, they finally tied the knot. Which is wonderful, because I've never seen a guy look at a girl the way that James looks at Tamara. You know, the doopey smile and puppy dog eyes.

They got married on the beach at Piper's Lagoon Park. They got married under a driftwood arch that Tamara's dad had made. They got married in a ceremony that was wonderful and a little bit dorky. They got married to music that James had written for Tamara. They got married in a ceremony that was exactly them.

I admit it. I'm a tough girl (or I was in the past), but I cried during the ceremony. I also cried during the speeches at the reception. People are so touching at the big moments in our lives. At the ceremonies that mark our transition from one life to the next.

I drank too much as I do so often (hey, the bartender was very hot) but the night was so fun. We danced far into the night.

Wedding. Who knew. And I'm pleased to say that I was the first one to call the James and Tamara show, all those years ago.

S.

Ahhhh

2008-08-15T16:37:00.005-07:00

I’m tired.

What a month it has been. Stag, stagette, wedding, wedding. Ah, what’s a girl to do?

Drink.

Definitely drink.

The girls came down to Victoria for Tamara’s stag on the July 26^th weekend. Oh wait, the girls and one blow up doll came down on the July 26^th weekend. We dressed him up and after playing a round of throw the ring on the penis, we promptly stuffed the penis down the blow up dolls tighties. Well, Rina did. Being pregnant sure makes her eager to caress plastic phallic things.

We started by renting scooters and parading around town on them. Tamara’s sister had glued a veil to one of the helmets which is a good thing otherwise the entire city would have thought we were lunatics. Which is all well and good for them seeing as they all live in Nanaimo or Vancouver but this is my city. I have to live in the aftermath haha. And after Sierra had laid on the horn for about 7/8 of the hour we were on the scooters, I was worried we were going to be run out of town. I had Rina on the back on my bike because she was too scared to ride her own. Sure, she’s too scared to ride by herself. Now I have a pregnant lady on my bike that I’m responsible for, not to mention that she keeps hitting my head with her helmet and squeezing my waste just a little too tight.

After the bike extravaganza we went back to the hotel to pretty ourselves up. That meant pink and red wigs. And wouldn’t you know it, I get the carrot top wig. Oh yes, bright red and curly, curly, curly. So to make up for the travesty that was my wig, I wore my lowest cut shirt. I figured maybe my tits would distract people from the hair. Maybe.

People react strangely to girls on a stagette. Granted, they are usually dressed ridiculously. And are acting drunkenly. We made Tamara conduct a band of Japanese tourists (complete with dollar store instruments), and get behind the bar at Big Bad Johns to make us shots. Then we took her to the bar to dance with a stag party.

To be honest, it could have been a crazier night. Sure, we took over a bus to take us back home because we thought it was a hotel bus. Yes, it turned out to be a chartered stag bus. Whatever. We headed back to the hotel to party more which involved going to bed. We are all far too old.

The next morning they made us go to Smitty’s. I would like to say right now, that I went under protest.

Oh well, anything for my girls.

Ahhhh

2008-08-08T12:03:00.001-07:00

One Wedding down, one to go.

I'll have pictures next week. Once I have time to catch my breath.

S.

I am not an immigrant

2008-07-31T20:28:00.002-07:00

I didn't know I wasn't white until I was about 10 years of age. I wasn't aware of ethnicity until someone pointed it out to me.

But someone did point it out to me and they continue to point it out to me to this day.

I remember working at Bentley in Nanaimo. Some guy walks in and asks if I can help him. Being a super luggage expert I say sure. He then pulls in a Chinese exchange student and asks me to talk to the exchange student because he sure as hell couldn't understand what he was saying.

Riiiiigggghhhhttt.

When I volunteered this year with immigrants it was the same. Sure, I was in a room full of people from other countries but I had to point out to each and every teacher that walked in that I wasn't a student. You would think the accent would tell them something but no.

I went to the dentist on Tuesday. The hygienist takes one look at my mouth and says "oh yes, they don't take wisdom teeth out in Japan." The dentist seemed shocked that I was born on this island. Asked me if I was related to Yugi who goes there, the one who speaks great English but can't read it.

I'm sick of it. My father is just as Canadian as my mom, yet people assume that my dad is from Japan and my mom is 100% Canadian.
What does it take to be considered Canadian?

Hell if I know.
S.

The Stag!

2008-07-26T12:40:00.004-07:00

It's Wedding season!

I don’t plan parties. It’s far too much work. People are far too flaky. I’m far too anal. It’s true.

But after a few hints, Lola and I decided we should probably take our groomsmaid duties a bit more serious (yes, groomsmaid is now a word, I thus decree). We met in early May. The wedding is in August. Plenty of time, right?

Except that May disappeared, quickly followed by June. Time sure does speed up when you get older. Before I knew it, bam, July. And the S-T-A-G!!! Gah.

After some frantic emailing, people were finally invited, theme picked and places decided on. We met at the dollar store to pick up decorations. Oh yes, the dollar store. We bees classy like that.

Theme – Tiki picnic

Place – Beacon Hill park followed by Darcy’s Pub

What – picnic followed by drinks followed by… where ever the night would take us.

Stephen and Jason hate surprises and laid it on thick but people managed to keep the secret and they were surprised when they showed up.

It went well. The picnic was fun. Tons of food, tacky decorations and a beautiful day. All of the different groups of friends mingled nicely. The sangria I made went down well (I may not be able to cook, but I can mix a mean drink. And by mean I mean strong.)

Next we headed to Darcy’s. There was a mix up because our sort of reservation was obviously not communicated to anyone. But eventually we all made it in and then the drinking began in earnest. Stephen had said and I quote “I don’t want to drink too much or party too hard”. Challenge? I think so. We played pool. Drank buckets. And danced! I even smashed my head against a railing in a moment of flail so hard that I thought I may have a concussion. Nothing in moderation.

We then headed to Hush for some D-A-N-C-I-N-G. I had no money left which is good because I did not need anymore. I remember hip bumping Chris across the dance floor because let’s face it, my hips should be labeled dangerous weapons. I remember a gay man telling me he loved me. I remember smacking someone with my purse.

Afterwards, they all went for veggie dogs at Mr. Tubesteak, where Jason and Judd proceeded to get shit on by a flock of seagulls. I didn't see it because I was headed home. I awoke to a major head ache and a very sore head. So sore in fact that 4 days later, my boss made me go to the doctor to make sure I didn't have a concussion. I don't. But it sure would have capped the evening - Shari partied so hard she gave herself a concussion!

Later in the week, Lola managed to plan a complete surprise shower. It was so much a suprise that the boys took their dog that got so excited he pooped the minute he saw everyone.

Yes, I do see the shit theme here.

I'm sitting here currently, waiting for the girls to pick me up for Tamara's stagette. Yes, 2 stags in 2 weekends. I'm going to be partied out soon.

Hello again,

2008-07-10T16:20:00.002-07:00

I guess I haven’t posted in awhile.

Basically what happened was Flamenco finished, and volunteering finished and suddenly I was faced with a vastness of uncharted days with nothing planned and quite frankly, no drive to do anything. Volunteering ended with a potluck dinner and it was so lovely, it made me sad to think maybe I wouldn’t see these people again. Because, they work and most have kids, so really, English is the last thing on their minds. Will they come back in September? Unlikely. Will I be back in September? I don’t know. I want to but with school and work, I’m not sure if I can even dance let alone volunteer. And that makes Shari sad.

In the end it was good that everything ended because I was feeling very burnt out. Mostly it was work that was burning me out but everything compiles and I internalize everything and if I don’t do something about it, something bad happens. The last time it happened, I had to be taken home in a cab from a restaurant that was exactly a block away from my house. So, I try to avoid getting to that point now.

I took a week off work and puttered around. I got my hair done. Got my eyes checked (great sight!). Went and talked to the manager of the school where I will be going in September. Went to a Canada Day Wine and Cheese party, which was a little depressing seeing as each and every male there seemed to be in a relationship which was neither here nor there seeing as they were all gay to boot. But, on a more positive note, I’ve developed a licking for wine. I managed to polish off a whole bottle myself. Okay, maybe it doesn’t seem like a positive note to you, but I’m sick of being the person who says no thank you to a glass of wine and then has to explain why I don’t drink it. So I’m on a wine program. It’s going well.

On Thursday I headed to Vancouver. Shannon was back from Japan and I was off to see her. I find it strange to see my friends from Japan in Canada. It’s like the context is wrong. The stories and mutual acquaintances are far away. But we had a lovely visit. It’s weird because she is in the position I was in 1 year ago. And it makes me realize that I have come a ways since I stepped off that plane last August. Plus, I like to hang out with her because I think she may be more of a hippie at heart than I am. And I appreciate that.

Friday I went with Nadine and Arne to a Jewel concert. Which was fabulous. Nadine and I went a few years ago at the Queen E and it was probably one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. This was as well with the notable exception of the concert being at the River Rock Casino and us being 6 rows back. Arne was taken with how “stunning” she is. Nadine and I just dig hearing our favourite songs.

Saturday I headed to Nanaimo. It’s hard to believe but I was facing my 10 year reunion. To be honest, I really didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to hear about people who were married and had kids. But I was talked into it. We went to Tamara’s first with just the girls and had some drinks because to quote Bonnie “there is no way in hell I’m going to this sober.” A few hours later we walked into the pub and boom, time trip. I made instant eye contact with Jeralynn, who was my best friend in elementary school but never talked to in high school (we were in different groups) and lost touch in the intervening years. It was nostalgic. She told me how she remembered playing the dark game with my dad which I had been telling Tammy about a few months early. It’s nice to know that memories that mean a lot to you mean a lot to other people who took part in them.

Judy told me that she enjoyed my blog. I didn’t know that anyone read this thing. I believe I said that I thought only my mom read my blog which was one of my drunken lies (I lie a lot when I drink, go figure), seeing as my mom never reads my blog. But anyways, Hi Judy, if you are reading this.

I talked to people I basically haven’t seen since high school and I’m proud to say, even though I was sloppy, sloppy drunk drunk, I remembered everyone’s name. Except one. I talked to her for awhile and it wasn’t until Alina came over and got her name did I find out what it was. Anna basically had the same life as me for awhile. Got a degree in anthropology. Went to Japan. Worked for Peppy. Hell, she even lived in the same prefecture that my Grandfather was from. I guess that means we should have been best friends with her in high school but I was too busy being a sports jock. Alas.

Seeing the pictures from that night all I have to say is… I’m pretty sure I made an ass of myself. But then again, some of the guys creeped me out, so we’re pretty much even.

The next day, I hauled my very hung over ass to Tamara’s bridal shower. I think it very odd that half of the people there were Tamara’s friends and half of them were Tamara’s mom’s friends some of whom had never met Tamara. Maybe I’m just cheap but I wouldn’t want to buy a present for someone I hadn’t really met. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve never been to a bridal shower before. Maybe it is for the mothers. The stagette definitely promises to be for us girls. But Tamara seemed to have a good time which is all that really matters.

Now, I’m back and recharged for my last 2 months at this job. Only they don’t know that yet. Heheh.

Ole

2008-06-22T22:37:00.003-07:00

The moment was perfect.

Standing in the hallway, listening to the music on stage, waiting for my turn. The nerves. The giddy anticipation. The pained smiles from my fellow level one flamenco dancers.

This is the moment in the movies where everything slows down. Where the music cues as the dancers line up back stage. Where every look is nuanced and every stretch of muscle looks like a moment of epic proportions. Where the heroine makes her final stand.

There would be a flash back to the hours of practice. To the dance rehearsal the night before, in the crowded, sauna of a dance studio. To the support shown to all dancers. To the moment where the class danced their dance before their peers. To the shaking legs and nervous smile.

There would be a flashback to tech rehearsal from the morning of, to bumping into Joey trying to hit marks and trying not to think of how full the hall would be when showtime came.

There would be a flashback to backstage, putting on makeup, sticking the flower in the hair and finally feeling a sense of camaraderie with the other dancers, just as it is all about to end.

But this is not a movie.

And as the moment came, I stepped on stage and felt... right. Sure, there were nerves. But no shaky legs. No dread in the depths of my stomach. The music came and my head turned on cue. After that, my body just took over. Sure, I didn't look at the audience that much but I don't think that matters. Sure, I stepped on the trapdoor and nearly turned my ankle, causing me to loose time and bump into someone. Sure both hands went into the air when only one was supposed to.

Whatever.

The moment was perfect. As was the moment when the lights went down and the applause came.

Ole.

S.

I GOT IN

2008-06-12T21:45:00.002-07:00

I try to keep it out of my blog but my overwhelming boredness at my job is killing me. So finally after much, much, much deliberation, I finally applied to Photography school.

Months ago, Nadine asked me what my dream job was.

It is and has always been photographer for National Geographic.

She asked me what I was doing about that dream.

Nothing.

She then said "maybe you should do something about it or change your dream."

Ouch.

But very true.

So after hemming and hawing, I looked around my office and had the realization that this was not where I wanted to be. And that going back to school, even going into debt over it, could never be a bad thing as long as I learned something from it.

I filled out my application (at work no less) and sent it in.

A few days later I got an email saying accepted.

In September I will be on my way to a diploma in professional photography, which I can hopefully mix with my anthropology degree in someway to get me experience, so that when I apply to National Geographic in a few years they will say "we gotta get this girl on board."

S.

Bruised Beyond Belief

2008-06-11T07:32:00.002-07:00

On Friday work decided to have a volleyball game on top of a local pub. They have sand courts up there and what is funner than drinking and playing volleyball?

This was a practice round because we have been challenged by a local solar panel company to a game.

I went because I like volleyball and really, what else was I gonna do. Bonding with work people is good.

It started out nice. No rallies. Basically those of us on the court at that point weren't any good. I used to play but it has been 10 years since high school. If I used to be good (which I wasn't) then it has since leeched out of me into the abyss of non sport.

Then slowly, as more colleagues came, one by one, the players disappeared from the court and were replaced... by more hard core people. Suddenly I found that I had to actually concentrate and get the ball up for a second hit, not just send it over the net. It actually turned into a game. Gods forbid.

I could see it coming. It was an actual spike. I moved into position and actually returned it. But I did it slightly wrong. I caught it only on my right arm. All I could think afterwards was "ow, ow, ow." Actually, that's all I said afterwards.

When I finally hauled my ass off the court, I could see a bunch of tiny veins had been burst in my arms. Well, that happens when you haven't played in a while.

Some of us went out for drinks afterwards. My arms were aching a tad but not much so I thought nothing of it.

Went home that night, took off my hoodie and there it was. A bruise the size of a fist on my right arm. Purple, pink, green and yellow. It looked like someone had beat me.

So, 5 days later it is slowly fading. But now it is mostly yellow. And I look seriously diseased.

Thanks work. You made me look diseased.

S.

Indy

2008-06-04T16:40:00.004-07:00

I admit it. I'm an Indiana Jones nut. I once had a hamster named Indy. He was an escape artist, able to push his whole cage away from the wall in order to escape. I named him well. I once found him, after having escaped his cage, in the cat's food dish, stuffing his face. He lived for danger.

I might have also gone in anthropology with a vague notion of wearing a fedora and crawling through ancient ruins deep in some jungle. This was promptly stomped on by my first anthropology prof who, in Archeology 200, announced the first day that "anyone who thinks they are going to be Indiana Jones might as well park their whip". Another dream crushed.

But I wasn't sure about another movie. The trilogy is perfect. Why mess with such a wonderful thing? But seeing as they were hell bent on it, I was willing to give it a chance.

So last night, my mom and I went. I had read reviews that people said they thought the storyline crazy and such. But come on.... were any of the previous movies plausible? The second one featured a crazy priest who would pull people's still beating hearts out of their chests and eat it while the person looked on.

The movie was campy, cheesy, and pure Indiana Jones. I enjoyed it. I think I will enjoy it even more with subsequent viewings... which if my past viewings of the first three are any indication, there will be many subsequent viewings.

Anyways, enjoy this tribute.

S.

The Shy and the Bus

2008-05-24T09:50:00.002-07:00

’m a bad granddaughter. I admit it. I haven’t seen my grandma since before I went to Japan. That was 3 ½ years ago. So I haven’t seen my grandma since…

Well… it’s been awhile.

I have all these images in my mind of my grandma but they have no relation to anything else. There is no convienient date marking on the bottom corner of my memory.

Last weekend I finally went out to Vancouver and saw my grandma and my sister.

But that’s not the story I want to tell.

I’m a pretty shy person. Once you get to know me, I have a tendency to talk excessively but on first meet, it’s unlucky that I will say anything. I don’t like talking when I don’t feel comfortable… I say stupid things and I don’t like it.

Usually, on the bus, I listen to music. It is the perfect buffer. You have a wall that people cannot penetrate and if someone does say something to you, you can pretend not to hear. In Japan, I used my cell phone as well, as everyone places with their cell phones in those awkward situations that public transit is. Unfortunately, people are not as obsessed with their phones here, so playing with my cell for an hour would look strange. Thus, I’m left with my ipod.

The bus from the ferry was crowded and a bunch of exchange students got on right after me. The guy that sat next to me kept fidalling with his bus schedule. He asked the guy in front of us a bunch of questions. Even though I had Roisin Murphy blasting in my ears, I could tell the Canadian was very confused by the Japanese way of asking questions in English (English learners tend to repeat parts of sentences until they find the word they are looking for). Finally, I pulled off my headphones and asked if the exchange student needed help. He was confused about the bus times. Victoria transit had forgotten a page in the schedule. Very confusing indeed.

For the next hour, he and I had a halting start and stop conversation. The thing I find most interesting about Japanese ESL learners, is they all say the same thing. "I need to study English more." Is this the first sentence they teach in English class? The first Japanese sentence I learned was "toire wa doko desu ka?" which means where is the toilet? followed closely by "niku nashi onegashi shimasu" - no meat please. These are very useful phrases even if you don't understand the response given to the first question. But the Japanese always say how bad their English skills are. Trust me when I say, that everyone that I have met that has attempted to speak English far exceeds any Japanese ability I even picked up.

The other thing many ESL learners say is that Canadians are the easiest to understand. I've heard that in many different countries and from many people from different countries. Apparently we speak clearly and enunciate everything. Then they tell me Australians are difficult. I always tell them that I think Australians are difficult to understand too, especially with some beer in them.

We had just entered Victoria when he asked me the final question that all my conversations with English learners comes to. "How can I become better at English?" I told him what I tell everyone who asks... practice with native speakers. He seemed shocked at this proposition. What? Talk to Canadians? But seeing as he had already told me that I looked Japanese (which they all do at some point, it's a favourite topic), I guess he didn't feel he was talking to a Canadian.

It's funny... I have tons of advice about learning a second language and I never follow it myself. Which explains why I'm still monolingual.

The Recital

2008-05-14T16:57:00.002-07:00

I started belly dance in January. I took it as a bit of a lark, something to do in my spare time. I really enjoy it though. The movement has helped my back and made me a tad more agile.

I never though much about dancing. It is something I love to do and something I do to exercise. A dancer? Me. Hardly.

Then came the day when Asmira mentioned year end show. Suddenly I found my hand in the air. Did I just volunteer for the dance? Yeah I did. But I didn't think much of it.

We learned the dance. It was easy. Compared to the dance in flamenco class, belly dance was easy because the moves repeat over and over. I guess somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I remember learning choreography because I pick it up faster than everyone in my class.

A month passed and suddenly I realized that the show was soon! And I really didn't want to do it. I mean, really, really, really didn't want to do it. I tried to back out by saying my 10 year reunion was that weekend but everyone in my class made me feel guilty, especially since it wasn't that weekend.

So I decided to do it.

Friday, I found myself in a pose on stage, wearing harem pants, a hip belt a vest and a bikini top. Oh, yeah a bikini top. The last time I wore a bikini top I must have been... 18 months? I'm less than thrilled with my mid section and thus, do not expose it to the world. But there I was, on stage, with my breasts bursting out of a bikini top that was too small for me.

The music started and into the Egyptian basic I went. Walking out was fine. The girl opposite me looked like she was about to die. I was fine. Then I turned toward the audience and boom... wobbly legs. Wobble through the bicycle back steps. Paste a smile on my face. Good thing the theatre was dark, because I sure didn't want to see the full house looking on at me in my bikini top and wobbly legs.

Then suddenly I was headed off stage. Brooke grabbed me from behind and whispered a triumphant "we did it!"

We sure did.
How I'm going to do my flamenco dance next month with wobbly legs is beyond me, but I suppose I'll deal with that when I get to it.

S.

You know you've been at a job too long...

2008-05-07T16:24:00.002-07:00

Yesterday I was walking to the store. A car drove by me. The licence plate said 456 BRL.

BRL. The currency code for Brazil.

I laughed.

Clearly I need out. Soon.

S.

Blast from the Gay Past

2008-05-03T14:21:00.002-07:00

Two days ago, an email popped into my inbox. The name on the email was Tiane. I stared at it for a few moments. I knew exactly who it was, I was just shocked that an email had come from him.

Two and half years ago, I touched down in Japan. I was scared to be in a foreign country by myself, shocked that I had signed up to stay there a year... worried that I wouldn't meet anyone who I would get along with. The company picked me up and dropped me off at the training apartments where I met the girl who would be my roommate for 2 weeks. Laura was an awesome American, with an Ohio accent and the experience of having lived in Japan for 4 months (amazing in my mind at the time). We clicked immediately and I realized quickly that I was going to be okay.

The next day, there was a knock at our door. We opened the door and there was Tiane. He had just arrived and having no roommate, was lonely.

Tiane is from Toronto (or that area). We got along immediately.

One week into training, he asked me, "Shari, have you gotten with anyone yet?" I was shocked at the question. I was having enough trouble knowing what I was eating, learning how to teach and general culture shock to have even thought about guys.

"Have you?" was my response. I was being sarcastic.

"Yup."

Okay... shocking. He had not only gotten with a guy, but he had done it within ONE HOUR of touching down in Nagoya. In the airport.

Gay men. Sheesh.

The last night I saw Tiane we were at a club in downtown Nagoya. He grabbed my hand, and said "let's dance." He then proceeded to use my hand to grab the ass of every Japanese man on the dance floor. Ah Tiane... the man who's soul purpose for being in Japan was to get some Asian ass.

He quit Peppy soon after starting because he didn't like where they placed him. No gay men in northern Japan apparently.

I haven't heard from him in well over 2 years. But his email is exactly Tiane... and it has taken me back.

Memory is a pleasant and inexpensive way to travel.
S.

The End of a Friendship

2008-04-22T15:55:00.001-07:00

I’m not one to let a friendship slide. I usually try to maintain contact even if the person is far away. I may not get back to you right away but I do try to eventually. I hate the phone but I do call people back when they call me. When I haven’t heard from someone in a while I do send an email, just to check in. If they don’t respond to email, mail, missed phone call, I just chalk it up to them being busy. Two no responses makes me think. Three and I call it a day. No use beating a dead horse on the head, right?

So I have this friend. We were never friends in person. We met in college and because we had the same major, had a small bond. However, it was always that we had mutual friends rather than were actual friends ourselves. You know how it is. When she finished college, she moved to another country to do her masters. I promised to write, as did everyone else in our group. However, unlike most people who promise to write, I actually do. I love mail, so I am anal about sending mail back. So for a year, we mailed back and forth, while she did her masters and I finished my bachelors. Then, when she returned to Canada, all was quiet for awhile. I rarely saw her and when I did, it was usually at parties where many people were invited. Back to being acquaintances as it were.

Then I left for Japan. Because I wrote to her when she was abroad, she promised to do the same. And she did. Letters came every few months telling me of her new job and eventually her new boyfriend. She even let me crash at her place for a night when I returned home for a visit. Two years I got letters. Then, the letters stopped. I wrote one, two and finally, the third letter to no response. My last year in Japan, no contact.

Eight months ago I returned to Canada. When I did I sent out a mass email to all my friends giving them my contact details and the fact that I was home and would love to see them. The people I expected to respond, the people I love and whom I think love me in return, did respond. And although I don’t see them as often as I would like, and the fact that I don’t pick up the phone (evil machine) doesn’t matter as I know when I do I will get a response. Or they will call me demanding where the hell I have been. They are cool like that.

From this particular friend… nada. The only emails I have gotten are about her wedding and where to send the invitations, which have never come, as she claims she doesn’t have my current address even though I have sent it to her three times. These emails also mentioned repeatedly where she was registered. Have I mentioned that I have heard reports of this friend being a bridezilla? So much so, that her first two bridesmaids dropped out of her wedding because they couldn’t deal with her. Perhaps you can see how I feel, a friend who has had no contact with me for two years except when she wants me to come to her events and bring her presents.

So I didn’t go to the wedding shower. It was in Vancouver, I didn’t get a proper invitation, and I didn’t like that the email I got from the bridesmaid at the last minute started and ended in the fact that she was registered at Linen and Things. Then came the stagette. First, I have to say that I think weddings are out of control. Didn’t weddings used to involve a couple hour get together at a friend’s house (shower) and the wedding? When did all these pre events come into effect? So the bridesmaids organized a 3 day extravaganza in Tofino, which is ridiculous if you ask me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go, as there was no way I was going to take Friday off work. But emails came about how I didn’t go to the shower, so it would be so disappointing if I didn’t go to the stagette. So I said I would go up on Saturday because that was all I could afford.

I figured one day wouldn’t cost that much. But apparently, it doesn’t matter how many days you go for, you are still paying for 3 meals on Friday, 2 meals on Saturday, 1 on Sunday, two nights accommodation (did I mention that there wasn’t enough beds, so people coming up on Saturday should “bring sleeping bags”) plus booze (of which only wine is provided, blech). When I sent off an email saying that I just couldn’t afford that much and if it was that much I probably couldn’t go, I got an email back dripping in a well thought out guilt trip.

Makes me pissed off.

Basically, to sum up the email, the bridesmaid (who writes in a style awfully reminiscent of the bride) said that seeing as I was one of the bride’s closest friends she didn’t understand how money could even be a factor. She then proceeded to say how no one else had complained and even one girl, who is unemployed, was making the trip. She then offered to lower the price by 15 dollars, which she would have to cover herself, as to not inconvenience anyone else.

Oh, how kind.

If I am one of the bride’s closest friends, then I feel sorry for her for having so few friends. If the bride was one of my closest friends, then I wouldn’t even be thinking about the price. Because friendship is more important than money. And friends don’t feel used.

S.

Lost Generation

2008-04-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

I hope so.

S.

The Trek

2008-04-11T20:30:00.003-07:00

After work today, my boss suggested we go out for drinks. So 6 ladies did drinks at a restaurant, talking smack and boob jobs. You know, normally day at the office.

It was 6 pm when I headed home. I share a bathroom with several other women and today it was in use. The woman in there was either having an epic bath, or cleaning (cleaning... I really, really hope so.) but there was a major water flowing sound.

I've hung out with my sister too long. I used to be a tank. I could hold it for hours if necessary. But Nadine uses the bathroom consistently and now, so do I. I walked into my room (which is next to the bathroom) and realized I had to go so bad. And all I could hear was the water running. What a situation.

Before I even had time to think about how long I could hold it, my body had taken control. My shoes were on, keys in hand and I was out the door. I was halfway down the stairs before I realized where I was going. I live next to Beacon Hill Park. It's gorgeous. There is a bathroom in the middle of it. Beach Hill isn't as big as you are probably thinking, but it isn't as small as my mind pictured it at that moment.

I start walking. It's okay. Walking makes me feel like I don't need to go.Down the block, cross the road and I was in the park. Down the chip trail. Oh wait, walking makes me feel like I need to go so bad. See people feeding the ducks. Ducks making splashing noises. Oh geez.

Maneuvered through the playground, dodging blond children on bikes spouting what sounded like Swedish. At this point I can see the building. Pick up the pace. Oh crap, it's not the bathroom, it's a building that appears to have no doors. The bathroom is the next building. Around the flower bed, by the fountains (not just one stream of water heaving into the air, but three, ack!) and finally the bathroom.

Praise be.

For a split second I thought the bathroom was closed, but it turned out just to have a heavy door.

Perhaps I should think about moving. But less than 400 bucks a month is unheard of in Victoria.
S.

Things as they have been going...

2008-04-08T12:05:00.003-07:00

Gosh, how boring my job is. I can blog from work and nobody notices.

I went to Nanaimo this weekend to hang with my sister. She had tickets to a taiko drumming show at the Port Theatre. I was surprised by her offer of driving down to Victoria to pick me up. What a nice sister.

Except that she always has ulterior motives.

So, we happen to have a nice bead store in town. Yes, beads. My sister is all into making earrings. Actually, so am I, but I sure don't spend that much money on beads. But then again, my ideas of selling jewelry only extend to the making of a few pieces and then, me wearing those pieces. Sell? Ha! Perhaps used pieces.

Anyways, off we went to Nanaimo. The show was fantastic. The pipes on those women... I guess banging overhead drums does things for the shoulders. Full pieces done in lunges, down on one side... bang bang bang, then transfer to the other side, bang and then back again. I fully recommend seeing a taiko group if you can. If you are extremely lucky, see the Kodo drummers. They are the group from Japan that originated taiko. I haven't seen them despite going to the island where they live 4 times.

It never fails though. Go to a show you are bound to enjoy and the person behind you will bang the back of your chair with their feet. Or talk during the performance. Maybe it's just me, but I don't care about your opinion on the quality of the mask. Especially after the discussion about how you thought the three women were men until they turned around.

They didn't stay for the whole show. And for that I am extremely thankful.

Nadine's cat slept with me at night while I was there. I wish I had a cat. But having a cat... well... it makes you less mobile. It makes you more... here for the long haul. One day.

On a different note, I'm not feeling my neighbours. I live in a house that has been converted into apartments. The rent is cheap so I'm not going anywhere but man, annoying. The two older ladies who live in the house are friends, which is nice, but I don't get why they feel it necessary to have chats in the hallway. I can hear every word that they utter and it is super boring. Why the hallway? Why not go into someone's apartment?

Then yesterday I'm on my way out to belly dance class. I go down into the lobby and there is the lady that is staying in the bottom apartment. She has the largest apartment in the front section of the building, but she treats the lobby like hers as well. She leaves the door open to her apartment and her toddler hangs out there. And then yesterday, she is sitting on the floor in the lobby talking to some lady I've never seen before and she is breastfeeding.

Breastfeeding.

I'm all for the naturalness of breastfeeding but seriously, if this was an actually apartment building, would she be breastfeeding in the lobby underneath the mail slots? Because that's exactly what she was doing. Then a bunch of her friends came in and they all sat in the lobby. WHY DOES SHE EVEN HAVE AN APARTMENT THEN???

I'm easily irritated.

S.

Shari-La

2008-03-28T17:23:00.002-07:00

Hehehe, instead of typing Shangri-La into the beneficiary field on the wire I was processing this morning, I by accident typed Shari-La. I like it. It makes me feel posh.

Well, as posh as I can feel.

So, I've been home for 6 months. It's been a weird 6 months, trying to readjust to Canada and all that. It seems that I have alot of free time on my hands. I was trying to figure out what I did with all my time in Japan and I have only one answer - all you can drink. Oh nomihodai, how I miss you and your copious liquor.

Anyways, I decided that I would fill my time with some volunteer work. How nice of me. I somehow envisioned myself as a Pollyanna do-good-er with a sarcastic streak. Except... I couldn't find a position. Finding a job and a place to live were easier than finding a volunteer position.

I tried the museum first but they only had positions during the day, when the majority of us work sheesh. I tried the Y but they only want friends of people who work there it seems. No one else responded to my emails. I was about to give up, when finally the InterCultural Association called me and asked if I wanted to be a teacher's assistant in an ESL class (English as a Second Language).

Yesterday I went to my first class. I'm TAing for the level 4-5 which are the highest levels and man, these people don't really need to take classes. Sure, they aren't fluent, but then again, I sometimes wonder if I am either. I sat in a small room and one by one had conversations one on one with them. One is a housewife from Thailand, whose children were educated in New Zealand. One is a professional woman from Shanghai who wanted to stay in Shanghai but whose husband wanted to move to Canada. One Russian man basically wondered why I didn't have a husband yet (why is this question dogging me?). The Korean man told me about the lack of stars in Korea and how he was going camping this weekend.

I have never met so chatty people, and in their second language too. I hardly had to speak.

Not at all like teaching children, but I think I will enjoy my three hours a week.

S.

The City...

2008-03-23T01:57:00.002-07:00

...is full of clothing. I don't mean shops. I mean lying on the street.

On the way home, I noticed a jacket abandoned by the weird hospital place by my house. Also, near the bar, there was copious amounts of clothing in a trash can. I hate to say it, but you would think with the amount of homeless people that this city has, there wouldn't be free clothing just strewn about. I see it everywhere. Poor clothing.

The city is also full of stupid people, but every city is full of stupid people. I went to a concert tonight and I won't even get into it. Stupid people! Stupid people and barf everywhere. What a Saturday night.

I should go to bed.

S.

Outside

2008-03-22T14:23:00.003-07:00

It's amazing the things you can see when you actually leave your apartment and go for a run.

Yes, a run! I know, shocking for me... but watching cheesy dance reality shows actually makes me go outside and do stuff.

Anyways, if I hadn't gone out today I wouldn't have seen the man on the bike pedaling through Beacon Hill Park. On first glance it was just a guy on a bike. When I looked back, I realized it was a man, a Canadian flag and a modified bike with a basket on the back that housed a medium sized dog. The dog was going for a ride, with the man being the chauffeur. I'm not entirely sure Fido there was into it.

If I hadn't gone out today, I wouldn't have seen the little boy who was using an overgrown willow as a fort. Nor would I have almost been mowed down by a terrier on a mission. I wouldn't have seen the two Asian exchange students hand their camera to a woman and then fling their arms about each others shoulders, with the Cascades in the backdrop. One day that photo will be shown to people back home saying "see, these were my days in Canada with one of my best friends." If I hadn't gone out today, I wouldn't have noticed that those boys were dressed more fashionable than I could ever hope to.

I wouldn't have seen the old couple sitting in companionable silence on a bench, looking out at the ocean. Or the herd of people at the petting zoo, more people than goats.

If I hadn't gone outside for the run today, I wouldn't sit here feeling better about myself.

S.

I may not be a real girl

2008-03-19T18:45:00.003-07:00

This weekend I went home. It was Dad's birthday and I hadn't seen Nathan yet. Plus, I hadn't seen my girls in eons.

So I went to Dad and Tammy's first. Nathan was sleeping so I just kind of looked. Is it just me, or do babies look fake? Like they are wax dolls? OK, maybe it is just me. The next morning, out came the quiet baby and before I could even blink, he was cradled in my arms.

Nathan is a bit weird. Doesn't like to open both eyes at the same time and looks pissed off most of the time. But then again, I'd be pissed off too... the womb sounds like a good deal.

There I sat with a baby in my arms. I looked down into his little face and... nothing. I've heard that women, when holding babies, feel all these maternal things deep inside. All I could think was "wow, nope. Not maternal."

I'm not into babies.

Went out with the girls for dinner. I'm finding it harder and harder to talk to them. I think it maybe because I don't see them often. It's that awkward small talk that I dislike so much. Maybe it's because they were talking about weddings.

I'm not into weddings.

At the end of dinner, I went to the bathroom. When I came back... they had decided to organize our 10 year reunion for high school. I was comfortable with the no reunion. I thought there wasn't going to be one. But no. There is. And my name was on the email that went out via facebook, so if I don't show, I will be one uber bitch.

Not into reunions.

I'm safely back in Victoria now, where I have my dancing, volunteering and single people. Things I am into.

Whew.
S.

Eric is pissing me off!

2008-03-18T12:37:00.000-07:00

In September I walked into Rogers and got myself a new cell phone and a new cell number. Well, at least the cell is new. The number… hmmm…. clearly recycled in which the recycling just didn’t take.

I started to get text messages asking if this was Eric’s number. I ignored them as I figured that they would stop eventually.

But no. 6 months later and I’m still getting messages for this guy, both text and left on my voice mail.

“Hello Shari, this message is for Eric Green. This is a call for an audition. Could you please get him to call me back?”

Ohhhhhhhhh, so Eric is either a self absorbed actor or an absent minded musician. Perhaps that’s why he hasn’t told casting people that he has a different number.

A few months before that I got a call from a guy and lucky me, I actually answered it. He was looking for Eric. I told him that Eric didn’t have this phone anymore. He asked me if I had Eric’s new number (because we’re friends and all, pffftttt).

Wish I did have Eric’s number. He should be glad I don’t.

Eric had a birthday a few weeks ago. I know because his cousin texted me wishing Eric a happy birthday.

It could be worse. Nadine told me she gets texts saying “I want to lick your big sweaty balls”, Maybe it’s just me, but I would want to make sure I had the right number before sending something like that out.

S.

Jeff Dunham

2008-03-11T20:47:00.002-07:00

Simple Pleasure

2008-03-10T20:23:00.002-07:00

Life is meant to be enjoyed, neh? It's easy to forget, it's easy to take for granted.

I was just reading one of my favourite blogs, Zen Habits, and it reminded me that we do need to take time to enjoy the little things. Even cliches. So here are some of mine.

Ice cream.
Long walks on beautiful days.
Roisin Murphy on my Ipod.
Sleeping late.
Going to bed early.
Heavy rain, to stay home, listen to as you read a book.
Light rain to go and get drenched in.
Long showers.
A cat's purr
Teriyaki salmon and green beans (my dinner tonight, yummmmm)
Making cookies on Christmas eve.
Dancing like maniac in my apartment.
The moment the plane takes off.
Talking with a friend until you fall asleep.
Kurt Vonnegut books.
Good pens and new notebooks.
The Princess Bride.
Standing by the ocean with the breeze making your hair fly.
Gin and tonics.
Sushi and green tea.
Scrapbooks.
Photo shoots with friends.
The moment you pay off all debt.
Plants with names (the one next to my computer is Bernard).
Cherry blossoms to make you know that winter is over.

Life is good. Must remember that.
S.

Hello Nathan

2008-03-08T16:38:00.002-08:00

...maybe. They haven't quite decided as of yet.

Almost 2 weeks past his due date, and Nathan finally decided to show himself. Perhaps he's a little shy. Maybe he's a tad lazy. Maybe he likes inertia. Maybe he's like my dad.

Tammy was going to be induced on Saturday the 8th. I told her last week that he'd be born on Friday, just to be difficult. And low and behold... I was right. I love when I'm right. The other thing that I hadn't thought of is that Friday was the 7th. I was born on Sept 7th. Nadine was born on Jan 7th. Guess Nathan knew that. Or something mystical. Blah blah blah. Easy for my dad to remember, all his kids born on the same number.

I guess I'll go see him next week.

I went shopping today. I'm trying to dress more grown up. So, I was changing in the change rooms when something white flashed on my head in the cold light. Oh my god. Grey hair! I've had grey hair for about 5 years but it's always been underneath were nobody could see it until I safely plucked it away. This one was... right... in ... my part. And very obvious against my dark hair and red highlights.

My brother was just born and I'm aging before my very eyes.

Lovely.
S.

Spring, she is a-comin'

2008-03-05T19:27:00.002-08:00

The sun was shining today.

The sun was shining and I felt spurred into action. I finally signed up for dance class, which means I can't "not feel" like going. I went and got a criminal check at the police station, as a follow up to my talking to the lady at the Inter-cultural Association. Yup, I'm going to teach English... for free. I cleaned my kitchen. Did laundry.

And, for the time being, I don't have to do the EFT shit at work.

What a freakin' good day.

Actual, the whole week has been good. A lady in my belly dance class complimented me on my isolations. My benefits kicked in. I had three meals either bought for me or made on Sunday.

My brother is going to be born this week. If he ain't here by Saturday, then the doctors are making him come.

If only the Canucks could win in overtime.

S.

Happy March

2008-03-02T10:47:00.002-08:00

Funny how fast weeks can go. You blink and it's a new month. Where did the time go? I kind of miss being young when the weeks would stretch into the vastness. Now I blink and a month goes. Ack! It's a sign of becoming old isn't it?

So, I've been taking my dance classes, hanging out with friends and basically, that's it. I've been searching the Internet, waiting, hoping, wishing. I feel unsettled. Everyone I know has settled in for the long haul it seems, and yet, I flail about in my not knowing just what I want to do with my life.

I hate flailing.

As I walked home last night from a night of Wii at Jason and Stephen's, I decided on a course of action. Well.... sort of. I'm going to continue to do the research - and apply to everything and anything. The universe has always pushed me in the right directions. I took anthropology on a whim and it ended up being my major. I went to Japan to pay off student debt and it changed me as a person. Trust in the universe. It will show you the way.

That sounds a bit religious for an atheist such as I, but hey, it's better than the existential crisis that I have regularly.

I'm off for brunch with friends who are in town for the weekend. Lady Marmalade is the best restaurant in town. And with friends is the best way to pass a Sunday morning. The sun is shining.

I think the winter doldrums might finally be over... for the weather and for myself.

S.

Permanent

2008-02-14T18:55:00.002-08:00

This week found me sitting in the board room signing my life away. Ok, it was just a contract for a permanent position. Payment processor specializing in exotics payments and EFT's. Exciting. Just like I always said when I was a little girl I wanted to do when I grew up.

Yes, that is sarcasm.

So, I don't have to worry about my job. And I've been told I can rent my apartment month to month, and have my name down for a bachelor place, that is in a killer location with cheap rent. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

So, I have a job, a place to crash, and my dance classes. I've emailed a bunch of places for volunteering. Who knew it would be harder than finding a job? I seem settled. Sure, I feel like everyone here is in competition for who has more, but what are you going to do?

I was telling my mom last night about my contract, complete with bonuses. Of course, she was happy. Her daughter, in the financial industry. For a mother who has worked at Credit Unions pretty much since she was 19, it seems right. For a daughter who would feel more comfortable in a hut in Africa, it seems scary.

And then my mom said the scariest words of all. "Well Shari, it seems with this job and apartment stuff, you seem settled. Permanent."

Freak. Me. Out. Permanent. Scariest word of them all...

I emailed the school in Africa a few minutes ago. Permanent and Shari just don't go together.

S.

(I am happy about my job situation. Having steady paychecks with BENEFITS is something that takes the edge off of being here).

Itchy Feet

2008-02-08T20:40:00.000-08:00

I have itchy feet. Not the kind you can scratch. The kind that requires change, moving, difference.

The annoying kind.

If I just had itchy scratchy feet, I'd get some damn ointment and be done with it. A cheap solution. Unfortunately, my problem usually requires a ticket. Plane, train or bus, doesn't matter as long as it gets me somewhere.

So, as it stands right now, I've been back here in Canada for 6 months. I gave myself 6 months to figure out what I wanted once I returned. Guess what? 6 months and not a freakin' clue.

The other night I was sitting on my bed when it hit me. The over whelming need to rearrange my furniture. I get this every few months and have been getting it for YEARS! Things must be changed. The bed must be in a different place. It took a few nights (this process must only ever be done in the late evening/early night) and some creative planning but my apartment is different. I was explaining my moving to a friend and then it hit me... I move the bed so I sleep somewhere different! Suddenly a weird quirk about myself was solved.

It satisfies my itchy feet for a time being when I can't get a real fix for my problem. It's like drinking the free beer your friend brought to the party, when you forgot your tequila at home.

Mmmmm, tequila.

I'm continuing on with the dance classes and I think I may actually be getting better. My hips sure like the movement of belly dance and for the first time, I actually could do both the arms and feet in a break of Flamenco. Rock on! Or rather, olei!

S.

Good Riddance

2008-01-31T19:28:00.000-08:00

Goodbye January. Never liked you much.

Today I was bored at work and found the bloggies, which are like the oscars of the blogosphere. Except that I can vote for them. And I did. I knew a few of them but the rest??? the one with the best name got my vote. I know people worked hard on their blogs but anyone who puts the word sass in their blog gets my vote.

Here's a list of things I'm thinking about:
To move or not to move?
Second job?
Buy a Wii?
If you pretend things aren't happening, does that in fact mean they are not happening?
Why doesn't my kitchen have an autoclean button?

Looks like they are going to keep me at work. Which should mean that I will get benefits. Dentist, here I come. As long as I can keep my wisdom teeth. I suspect they are the location of all my super powers.

I'm sleepy.

Have some Who's Line is it Anyways

S.

It's snowing..

2008-01-27T16:04:00.000-08:00

Or it was.

Minutes of snow and then clear skies. This is why I do love it here. I forget sometimes.

Sure it's freakin' cold. But the cherry blossoms have already decided to start blooming. Maybe things are looking up.

S.

Office Comrades

2008-01-26T12:28:00.000-08:00

Work friends. Is there anything stranger?

You spend most of your time with them. Unlike your other friends, you see them everyday and if they are the slightest bit talkative, you get a play by play of their lives, who they saw the day before, what they had for dinner. But, unless you cross that boundary into outside of work friendship, there is still a boundary. When out and about you feel the incessant need to talk about work.

I like the people I work with. They are young and very Victoria. It seems a naturally thing to go out with them. But once out, I'm not exactly sure how to act.

Last night we went out for Tawny's birthday. Tawny is the girl in the office that sparks conversation about strange things, and makes everyone laugh. So, she was turning a quarter of a century and out we went.

Met up with the others for dinner. We did the normal conversation of work and then food. Then we headed to Tawny's. Immediately upon entering the house, I was struck by how young everyone there was. Many of them looked like 1st year university. And seeing as I entered first year Uni in 1998, well.... needless to say I felt old.

So, not really fittin' in the youngins, we were left to our own devices. We played drunk pin the tail on the donkey. No really, there was a pin the tail on the donkey game. When you've been drinking, spinning around blindfolded is not the good idea that it seems. They blindfolded me, spun me and immediately I felt like a bad hangover. You know the kind that taking one step makes the world tilt and hurts every inch of your being. Yup, that's how I felt. Stephen tried to point me in the wrong direction, but I knew where he was standing as he spun me in relation to the board. You can't pull the wool over this girl's eyes.

We went to the karaoke bar next and things proceeded to turn into a gong show. Other people from work showed up and drinks, drinks, drinks. I found a new shot called a King Kong (whiskey and banana liqueur) which I drained and then remember I can't drink whiskey. Bad 19th birthday memories floating around.

I got to a happy, not flailing drunk place and proceeded to watch the office weirdness. See, last time I went out with them, one of the girls (who has a boyfriend) and one of the guys, well... we're not sure what happened. There was touching and then we left them at the bar. Since them, things in the office have been different but none of us have been sure. It's not exactly something you can ask right? Hey... you cheating on your boyfriend with the guy that sits across from you? No, you can't. But you gossip when they are not in hearing range and you give the other coworkers meaningful looks.

Well, I'm pretty sure we don't need to think anymore. It's moved from "think" to "know" last night. They both got hammered and forgot the protocols of having an office affair that no one is supposed to about. They weren't making out, but they were definitely touching each other like, well, people who are used to touching each other are.

What are you supposed to do? Pretend you don't see it? Acknowledge their "coupleness" and get on with it? See, with my other friends, if they were doing this kind of shit, I would call them on it. But work friends... awkward.

Monday should be fun.
S.

Yummy

2008-01-21T11:00:00.000-08:00

January is typically a bad month for me. I have no idea why. Usually, January is pegged as the month of new beginnings. All I tend to feel is weighted down by stagnation and boredom. Yes, stagnation and boredom. Happy freakin’ New Year.

I am currently suffering badly from my disease – traveleritis. My symptoms include: staring out the window for large periods at a time, complete and utter boredom at work, wandering about town gaping at things like a tourist, and basically dissatisfaction with things in general.

I am trying to combat this disease with the best thing possible … activity. Yes, I have a tendency to hermit in my apartment but I’m trying to be good. I’ve signed up for classes.

Last Wednesday, I finally hauled my ass out of my apartment and went to my first Flamenco class. I’ve been thinking about it since I came home and voila, six months later I go. Timely.

It turns out Flamenco is super fun. All hips moving in circles, feet stomping and hands twirling in rhythmic motion. Fun. I’m not very good, but then again, I can’t expect to be good after one class right? At one point the teacher demonstrated a particular move that involves stepping forward with a very emphasized hip movement and arms overhead in a very Spanish flourish. “Come on girls, doesn’t that movement feel yummy?”

And you know what? It did. Yummy.
S.

Taking Stock

2008-01-13T14:40:00.000-08:00

It's amazing how a group of complete strangers can give you a jump start on life.

In November, I went to the Young Women's Leadership Conference put on by the YWCA. It was excellent and worth the hundred bucks. Between the break out sessions on owning your own business and volunteering abroad, there was small talks about peer mentoring. Rather than having a mentor/mentee relationship, peer mentoring is about a group of people who are in somewhat similar stages of life and get together to talk about goals and how to achieve them in a supporting way. Seeing as I'm somewhat in a period of transition myself, I figured why not.

Went to the meeting the next week, met some women and now I have a mentoring group. We met 6 weeks ago to discuss what we wanted out of the group and set this week as the week we would set our goals.

It was with a little uneasiness that I walked up to Melinda's apartment on Wednesday. I'm shy and take a long time to warm up to people. I mean, the vast majority of my closest friends are from high school and that was 10 years ago. How on earth could I be frank with people I had only seen a couple times before? Well, the truth is, you can be more frank. I don't really care what these people think of me. I don't really want to be the greatest of friends with them. I want to give my goals, have constructive feedback and monitoring and I want to do the same thing for them. I don't tell all my goals to my friends because you get judgement about the goal or they will let you off if you slack. Friends can be selfish too. I asked a friend recently if I should go back to school or move to Ethiopia. She decided that I should go back to school because then I'd be around. And seeing as I'm always around myself, I figured she meant around her. Helpful.

So, I have set my goals. I just have to follow through with them. And I have a feeling I will, because these women will definitely call me to task if I don't. Which is good because I don't call myself to task, so I need someone who will do it.

The next night my mom, mom's friend, sister, sister's boyfriend and I went to see Michael Buble. Hello, crooner. I sat with Diana because Nadine and Arne had floor seats and my mom got to sit in the player's box (it was at a hockey rink) because she had recently fallen and tore the cartilage in her knee. So, my mom's friend and I sat, enjoyed, laughed (Buble is freakin' funny) and made fun of the lady behind us. You know the people who have conversations with the people on stage? Yeah, Michael would say something and she would reply like there wasn't a thousand people between her and the stage. Other than her, it was one of the best concerts I've ever been too. Got to love a hometown boy who sings about the Canucks during his scat session.

Today I went out for brunch with Jason and now am writing this, while the boys play WoW. Keeping busy is nice.

S.

Veggie Anniversary

2008-01-09T14:25:00.000-08:00

“I point out that a live cow makes a lion salivate, whereas a human just wants to say "moo" and see if the cow responds.” Scott Adams.

The 7th marked not only my sister’s 25th birthday, but our 5 year anniversary from the day when we stopped eating meat. It’s amazing how something I figured would only last a week has stretched out this long.

Let me go back. The year was 2003. I was at University, learning the ins and outs of anthropology, the study of people in all times and places. In Nutritional Anthropology, I learned that people all over the world could have food, if we would just stop feeding it to the cows. I learned about how the raising of cattle leads to desertification, and the destruction of the rainforests.

Oh hell, let me just quote wikipedia.
Some of the concerns are the large amounts of fossil fuel and water resources consumed by intensive animal farming and the consequent emissions of harmful gases and chemicals. Animal agriculture has been pointed out as one of the largest sources of greenhouse gases — responsible for 18% of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions as measured in CO2 equivalents. By comparison, all transportation emits 13.5% of the CO2. Animal farming produces 65% of human-related nitrous oxide (which has 296 times the global warming potential of CO2) and 37% of all human-induced methane (which is 23 times as warming as CO2). It is also accused of generating 64% of the ammonia, which contributes to acid rain and acidification of ecosystems [11]. The habitat for wildlife provided by large industrial monoculture farms is very poor, and modern industrial agriculture has been considered a threat to biodiversity compared with farming practices such as organic farming, permaculture, arable, pastoral, and rainfed agriculture.
Animals fed on grain, and those that rely on grazing need far more water than grain crops. According to the USDA, growing the crops necessary to feed farmed animals requires nearly half of the United States' water supply and 80% of its agricultural land. Additionally, animals raised for food in the U.S. consume 90% of the soy crop, 80% of the corn crop, and a total of 70% of its grain.
When tracking food animal production from the feed trough to consumption, the inefficiencies of meat, milk and egg production range from 4:1 up to 54:1 energy input to protein output ratio. As it was published, "U.S. could feed 800 million people with grain that livestock eat, Cornell ecologist advises animal scientists Future water and energy shortages predicted to change face of American agriculture" [74] To produce animal based food seems to be, according to these studies, typically much less efficient than the harvesting of grains, vegetables, legumes, seeds and fruits. Exception is made of animals that are grazed rather than fed, especially those grazed on land that could not be used for other purposes.
According to the theory of Trophic dynamics, it requires 10 times as many crops to feed animals being bred for meat production as it would to feed the same number of people on a vegetarian diet. Currently, 70% of all the wheat, corn and other grain produced is fed to farmed animals.

It’s hard to study about Kwashiorkor, look at poor children with their distended bellies and not wonder why food is being given to cows. Don’t get me wrong. I like cows. I like to moo at them. But given the horrible conditions of the meat industry in the developed world, it really doesn’t make much sense.

So, this is what I was learning about. Then, my little sister (who is also studying anthropology) annouced that she was becoming a vegetarian, first by giving up red meat, followed 6 months later by giving up poultry, I figured “why not” and dove right in.

I gave myself a week.

In July of 2003, I hadn’t missed red meat in the slightest. Out went poultry. Thought I would miss it. Didn’t.

Somehow I managed to stay a vegetarian despite living and traveling abroad. Yes, you would think Japan would be good for a vegetarian but they sure do like their beef.

Technically, I suppose I’m a pescatarian, not a vegetarian because I do eat seafood. Whatever. It’s a state of mind.

I don’t care if you aren’t a vegetarian. I just wish people would think before they eat, and realize that meat isn’t a right, it’s a privlege. And it’s bad for the heart and colon to eat it too often.

The one thing I’ve learned from all this, is simple. If you are stubborn about your beliefs, you will make them happen. Resolutions are easy to stick to if they are tied to something you believe in.

Happy Anniversary to Me.

S.

Annoyed

2008-01-03T16:58:00.000-08:00

How is that someone you thought you knew so well, could annoy you so much with selfishness.

Argh.

I'm pissy and even though I don't know what it is I was rude about, I'm not sorry.

S.

Happy New Year

2008-01-02T18:49:00.001-08:00

Ah, the holidays. Time for family, whether you like it or not.

I dislike this time of year. Why does there have to be a "time for family"? Shouldn't that be all year? Bah.

Anyways, went up to my mom's for the day. As I don't do the gift thing anymore, it was mostly for the cookies. Yes. Cookies. It is our tradition to decorate Christmas cookies. I have given up the presents, the tree, the songs, but gawd damn it, I'm not giving up my cookies. See where my priorities lie?

So, we woke up Christmas morning and decorated cookies. We have competitions to see who can decorate the best one. My sister takes this to mean the tackiest cookie. She sure is good at it. I've never seen gingerbread people with such luscious lips. This year she did the family.

Yes, my mom is the one with the big titties. Nadine gave me a sled, which apparently is the same thing as my lovely scooter in Greece. Why I'm wearing red hot pants is beyond me. Apparently my cookie self has more self esteem and less fashion sense than I do.

Dinner saw me in a house with a family that I didn't know and really, had nothing to say to. Nadine and Arne had left to go to Arne's family. That left me with my mom, Denis and Denis' family. Have you ever felt a conversation to be so mundane and uninteresting that you just can't bring yourself to even participate? Yeah. Fun times.

So, now the "holidays" are over. New Years has come and gone. I did nothing. No, it's not sad. After doing the same thing last year (because I was too tired, having come back from Thailand that day), I realized that it's just a day that is blown out of proportion. Not worth it.

2007 was a good year. Full of travel and personal growth. 2008 doesn't look promising so I need to get off my ass and do something about it. That's my New Year's resolution. And damn it, I will keep it.

S.

What a week!

2007-12-23T10:35:00.000-08:00

I haven't blogged in awhile. First I was too busy and then I was too hurt.

Last weekend I went to Nanaimo. Hung out with the girls. Friday night they held an open house. Friends, friends, friends. I got made fun of massively because I had put amaretto and coke in my nalgene bottle and drank on the bus ride up. Some questions about whether I had taken the "short bus" up? I don't really know what that is supposed to mean, but seriously, the reason I drank was I had a record day for wires at work (104 opposed to my normal 25-40) and if I didn't drink, I was going to cry. I needed to get drunk. And drunk I got.

The next day my hangover and I went to help move Bonnie's friends. I have never seen people more in need of a purge. They had so much CRAP! And they were moving into a huge duplex, one side for each, that was three bedrooms on each side. Ridiculous. But we helped and all was fine.

The next day was SPA DAY! We went to the Kingfisher Resort and partook of the hydro spa. Heaven in cascading water. Tamara, Bonnie and I were in the first group and we had such a good time. First was a Swiss shower, that was followed by the Mineral Massage Pool, Waterfall Massage, Steam Cave, Glacial Waterfall (COLD COLD COLD) River Walk, Sea Mineral Soak and Tidal Baths. Amazing. If you can, I highly suggest this. We giggled and indulged in our inner girlieness.

After the spa, we headed over to the restaurant for lunch. Sat down, got informed that there was a buffet and to help ourselves. Oh My God. So much food, and to be more specific. so much smoked salmon! Amazing. After sitting down, we had to inquire about the price of the buffet. $22? Wow. We stuffed ourselves stupid. I mean stupid. I hurt.

The next morning I woke up and found my back hurt. Alot. Was it the spa? Isn't a spa supposed to make you feel better? It was really hard to get out of my chair at work. I found I was like mom, hobbling around. Day two was worse. I went home and laid on my bed. Mostly, because once I was down there, I couldn't get off. Back spasm are terrible. They make you feel so helpless, and really I am, as I don't live with anyone. Day three and it hurt to sit. I finally went up to the pharmacy and got muscle relaxants. I don't do medicine because I have a mental block about them. You would too, if one tried to kill you. (Penicillin, I was 1, I'm still not over it). The relaxants helped. I finally got to talk to my mom and she said that it took 2 days to throw out her back and most likely it was helping move that did it. Last time I'm helpful. Also, she told me it was at 27 that her back started going out. Oh goodie, another hereditary gem for me to look forward to.

Thursday saw me see Laura, who was home from Japan for the holidays. It was good and weird. Haven't seen her since July but what to say? Mostly spent the time NOT telling her things because I know secrets about people in Japan that I am not supposed to tell, especially to those that like to gossip. Why is that when you have a secret, its the one thing that wants to come spitting out of you?

I made it through to Friday and found myself on a bus back up island. I wasn't going to go to Rina's birthday party but I had spent 30 agonizing minutes in a jewelry store picking out her gift (in heels with a bad back, idiotic!) and I wanted to give it to her in person. Cathleena and Rob were there so got to have good times with them. They live in Australia now and I haven't seen Cathleena in an eon. I like to be the person away, it sucks when other people are.

At 6 am I was awoken by Alina. She had a 9 am flight from Victoria and she was dropping me off on the way there. But when we ventured outside... BLIZZARD! Seriously, when did the island decide that it liked snow? We don't do snow! Snow is for the rest of Canada. Alina drove, slowly but worriedly. Luckily, the snow hadn't hit the Malahat highway yet, so all was okay once we got that far. I came home and slept.

I'm doing a volunteer thing for work tonight and then tomorrow seeing a friend from Japan who is home for the holidays. Good times.

Happy Holidays.
S.

Business Time

2007-12-11T16:26:00.000-08:00

The Unexpected

2007-12-10T17:07:00.000-08:00

I don't do Christmas.

It was a decision my sister and I reached a few years ago. And really, it makes perfect sense seeing as a) we aren't Christian and b) we have issues with mass consumerism. So we threw it all away. We don't buy presents and for the most part, we don't accept presents. We don't decorate. No tree is murdered for our sakes.

Most people seem shocked that we don't celebrate. But once we explain how un-stressful the season is, how we don't have to fight the crowds at the mall, how little money we spend in the month of December, we invariably get the response of "oh I wish my family could do that."

Nadine is a big advocate for the unexpected present. She likes to buy things just because, rather than massive corporation saying we have to buy things.

A few weeks ago, I got a text asking what I was doing this Sunday. Of course, my normal response of nothing sparked my sister into action mode. Suddenly I was ordered to head up island for the weekend.

I arrived on Friday evening to have drinks with a friend, mostly so I didn't have to take the 7:30 bus Saturday morning. My friends were surprised that I was in town, seeing as I'm scheduled to head up island for our spa day next weekend. But news of my sister having a surprise for me got them. Questions arose. What is it? Where are you going? Is it outdoors or indoors? Dude. It's a surprise. I don't know.

So, Nadine picked me up, and we were off to the first surprise. And it turned out to be a stage version of The Princess Bride by high school students. It was so cute, them trying to remember their lines. But seeing it was the Princess Bride, my favourite movie EVER, I really enjoyed it.

The second surprise was a concert. An African Drum and dancing jam session. It was awesome. Okay. Most of it was awesome. Some of it was weird and pretentious. Hippies seem to have this strange notion that because they don't shave their armpits or wash their hair that they have this validity, this we're better than the rest of you. It's fucking annoying. Seriously, poor hygiene does not give you moral superiority. And this is coming from a girl with hippie tendencies. It definitely does not mean that spinning dish clothes around on sticks shows that you are deep and arty.

However, the drumming and the African dancing was rad. Really earthy. There was a dude there that kept feeling the beat so much, that he just couldn't sit. He had to get up and groove. He clearly was a raver, because that's how he was dancing but it was amusing. He almost knocked over this baby who was wandering in the dancing mob. At one point he disappeared and when he reappeared he was wearing a different shirt. I guess the beat had sweat through the first shirt.

So that was my unexpected surprise. And much more satisfying than opening a meaningless nothing on Christmas morning.

S.

On work and such

2007-12-02T12:26:00.001-08:00

When I grow up, I want to be a processor!

I seriously doubt anyone ever has thought that in the history of the world, but this is where I find myself. Four and half years out of university and a world away from the girl I was when I left Canada for Japan, this is my current life. Money comes in and I send it all around the world. I'd like to say it goes against everything I believe in, but that's a bit melodramatic. It definitely goes against what I want to be, but seeing as I don't know what that is yet... well, you get the picture.

I had my 3 month review the other day. Basically, they told me I was doing a good job. Yeah, course. I have way too much pride to do a crappy job. Then they asked the dreaded question. "Have you given thought to what you would like to do when you contract comes up?" Dude. I hadn't given thought to what I wanted to eat, let alone do next year. I panicked and told them that I would love to find another position at the company. Because let's face it, continuing to work for one company is cushy. It doesn't have the panic of looking for a new job. So I suppose we'll see.

I went to the work Christmas party on Friday night. I even wore a skirt. I haven't worn a skirt in 8 years. Japan did make a girl out of me. I came home indulging in my feminine side. I highly suspect that it will lose it's appeal soon. The work party was kind of lame. I didn't know hardly anyways as my department were all no shows. People dressed up, playing blackjack and such. Who the hell does a Bond gambling theme for a Christmas party? Oh yeah, people who deal with money! I ate and went home. Whatever.

The people I work with are cool though. Most are in the 20's and we talk about random stuff at work. We even went to a gig on a Wednesday night (Dragonette, they rocked). I got smoking drunk, yet seemed to be the only one who was peachy keen the next day. Again, my ability to hold my liquor comes in handy.

So basically, that's it. I work. I don't like the work, but I do it. I try to have a few laughs whilst doing it. So forgive me if I don't blog that often because... there aren't much things to say about wire payments.

S.

On distance

2007-11-26T17:34:00.000-08:00

Living abroad has nothing to do with the place. Sure, the architecture is neat, but at the end of the day... only the biggest nerds can live off that alone. It is the people that you meet that make the memories that make you snicker to yourself whilst you stand in a checkout line.

What? You don't do that? Okay, the memories that make me snicker like a crazy person in the checkout line.

So, when I went to Japan, I expected to meet people. Transient people, who would teach me something and then flit off into the unknown. Fun people who would drink me under the table and then whisk me off for ramen. And in truth, I did find these people. People who taught me about confidence and facing the unknown. People who taught me the beauty of gin. And yes, transient people whom I will most likely never see again.

What I didn't expect, was to make good friends. My good friends are from high school. I don't go out of my way to meet new people. But going abroad has changed that. I met people so different from me, and yet, people I can't imagine living without having met.

And then I left.

Facebook and Skype have kept me in touch with most of them. They enable me to have 3 hour long conversations with my friend in Japan about nothing. It's like there is no distance. Except there is.

"He broke me Shari, I never cry. The muthaf*cker made me cry."

If I was in Japan, this statement would have caused me to make a face of empathy, give a big hug and take her out for a drink. But those are things without words. Silence over Skype is awkward and misinterpreted. Either you weren't listening or you have nothing constructive to say. And thus, you can't be there for the good friends you have made half way around the world.

And it seriously sucks.

S.

On my love of hockey and my inability to read schedules.

2007-11-20T17:27:00.000-08:00

Canucks versus Flames. Sunday evening. One of hockey’s great rivalries and at an earlier start time, so that those of us on the island can partake in the religious fever that is our national pastime. Bonnie got two tickets and I couldn’t say no, when the first person she thought to ask was me. Not that I would of anyways. Come on, it’s hockey. Canucks hockey. It would have been going against my upbringing to say no.

So off to Vancouver I was on Sunday. Met Bonnie downtown and had some food. We then proceeded to bitch about everything and everyone. Say what you will about astrology but Bonnie and I, being two days apart in our birthdays, have pretty much the same views on people. Namely, they piss us off.

The BC Lions were playing in the Western Conference Final, so between the football and hockey games, there were a lot of drunk people downtown. The smell of stale beer on people is always attractive.

Finally, its time for hockey. Bonnie and I head to GM Place and up, up, up into the stands. Luckily, there aren’t any bad seats in GM Place because if there were, we would have been in them. Basically, if we had moved back one row, we would have hit the outer walls. That’s okay. From that angle you can see the whole play rather than just the little bit in front of you.

Yeah, I don’t believe that argument either.

Unfortunately, Ohlund was out because of a slashing incident and subsequent suspension. But that didn’t stop the Canucks from having a good game. You have to love when you teams romps 4-1 over the visitors. The poor girls sitting next to us. Wearing their pretty red Flames jerseys. They were very quiet.

I wasn’t.

Hockey is the excuse to be loud, to yell at the players to skate and pass the goddamn puck, to generally make an ass of yourself.

It was fun.

Finally the game let out and I had missed the 7:30 bus home. No worries, there is one at 10. So, I walked Bonnie to her bus. Got on the skytrain. Got off the skytrain and onto the train going the right direction. Headed for the bus station.

Only, there is no one in the bus station.

So, I frantically searched for a schedule. And there in black and white… the clear absence of the bus I was supposed to take. The one that was clearly marked on the website.

At moments like this, it is perfectly permissible to swear loudly.

It is strange the thoughts that go through your head when you are stranded. The first one was that I could spend the night on the benches at the station, which is okay if you are traveling. I have done that. But seriously, I live here. I don’t have the excuse that I don’t understand the transit system or that I don’t know where the hotels would be. The second thought was to get a hotel. Only then did the third thought come into my head, of calling Bonnie and trying to get to her ferry and crash at her place. But, by that time, there was no way I could make that ferry.

So, I waste time in a crisis. I like to make the situation as bad as humanely possible. It makes a better story.

Bonnie suggests going to Tswassen, taking a ferry to Duke Point at which she could drive out to pick me up. At this point, it was clear that I wasn’t going to make work in the morning. I’m in downtown Vancouver. How do I get to the ferry terminal? Suddenly, I remember that I went to visit Laura at Simon Fraser University about 6 years ago and that I had gone through Scott Road Station. Those words didn’t mean much to me at that point but they registered with the guy wearing the lovely skytrain uniform and thus, I was off into the unknown.

I arrived at Scott Road Station 30 minutes later. Let me say one thing – D-O-D-G-Y! I walked around all the bays trying vainly to find one that said Tswassen. Nadda.

So, I suck up my pride and call Laura. The message of that call was basically HELP! After trying to help me with the bus schedule, we concluded that I couldn’t make it to the ferry in time. Laura wouldn’t hear of me staying outside by myself in Surrey. And if you know anything about the lower mainland, you would agree with her.

“Go to the King George Station, I’ll pick you up there. And stand in a well lit area”.

Honestly, I think my friends think I’m 5 years old sometimes. I did live by myself in a foreign country. I am perfectly capable of standing in a well lit area without someone telling me to. I may be from the island but I ain’t no backwater hick. I think.

Laura picked me up, let me crash at her place and drove me to the ferry at 6 am the next day. By the time I got back to Victoria I could have done a half day but my adventure had killed me. So instead I laid around my apartment.

What a fun day. Shari lost in the big city. Par for the course.

The Weekend

2007-11-13T21:55:00.000-08:00

I'm not good at making friends. I admit it. It is a skill and one that I seriously need work on. But really, when one has had the same friends mostly, since high school... you don't work on it.

So I have my girls and we fondue. Yes, fondue. A big old pot of oil to fry food in. Yes, it makes your hair reek for days but you will suffer for greasy goodness.

Back in the day (aka 1999 ish) it was easy. There would be an event and we would fondue. Birthday? Fondue. A boring Saturday night? Fondue. Someone going or coming back from a trip? Fondue. (We tend to be the traveling type). It marks important occasions.

So, I came back from Japan. Kind of an important occasion. Six months before I even boarded the plane Tamara asked me if I was coming home. When the answer was yes, she immediately started on the fondue train. There isn't anything that girl wouldn't do for a little batter and cheese sauce.

It was decided. We would fondue. However, unlike when we were teenagers... we have lives. Work. Trips. Commitments. Significant others. Yee gawds, it's like we are adults.

Yes. I am shuddering.

Basically, it took three months to come up with a weekend, when once we used to plan it the day of. I hauled myself up island and thus we feasted. Then we had chocolate fountain. Yes, it is heaven in a fountain.

Friends and food. Is there any two words that go nicer together? If so, I have yet to find them. Except maybe travel and free.

S.

Happenings

2007-11-08T10:17:00.000-08:00

I’m feeling very weird lately. Not sick exactly, but really out of it. I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

Anyways, I’m a red head now. Kind of. After talking about it for around two months, I finally got off my ass and booked an appointment to get my hair done. On Monday I went to the stylist and got red highlights in my hair and a cut. I really like it, as I feel it suits me. Except aren’t red heads supposed to have fiery tempers? Because I sure don’t. My temper is like ice.

Also, the fumes from my head were making me feel light headed. Maybe that’s why I’m so out of it. The stylist told me not to wash my hair for a couple of days and in general not to wash my hair everyday. I suppose that’s all fine, but am I the only one who feels nasty if her hair isn’t washed. I made it two days and totally had to wash. I love the colour my hair currently is, but not enough to be greasy in an attempt to maintain it.

I’m a big ol’ liar. I lie to stylists.

They tell me to blow dry. I tell them I will. I won’t. It’s a waste of time. They tell me to not wash very often. I agree. Such a lie. I wash everyday. They tell me to use a light wax. I tell them I have some at home. I don’t. I hate product. I tell hair stylists whatever they want to hear. I just can’t tell them that product is gross and that blow drying makes me too sleepy to stand.

I also have a big mouth.

Oh, if you tell me a secret and tell me not to tell a soul, I will take it to my grave. But about myself? That’s a bit harder.

Let’s be honest. I’ve been freaking out about being home. I’m bored as all hell and I can’t motivate myself to do anything about it. Sure, I’m going to be volunteering at the museum in January and I have vague ideas of volunteering at the Y, taking dance class, blah, blah, blah. I think about leaving all the time. I just don’t know where to go or what to do. I also think about taking classes or finding a career path.

But here’s the thing. Jason and Stephen are getting married next year. It’s sweet really. They asked me to be in their wedding party. I’m not into weddings in the slightest but make it about two guys and I’m in. Something about a gay wedding tugs at my heartstrings that the run of the mill straight wedding just can’t do.

So, my contract ends in February and so does my lease. I was thinking that if I was to leave then would be a good time. Makes sense, right? But, I’m supposed to be in my oldest friend’s wedding that is set for next summer. It doesn’t make sense in my mind to leave and then come back. Because, I won’t. Rina got married and I didn’t come back from Japan. I probably could have, but pretended in my mind that I couldn’t. Great friend I am. So, I decided that I was going to stay in Canada at least until their wedding. I may stay longer but that is the minimum.

That’s all fine. I make decisions like that in my life all the time. I can live with it.

But then I opened my big mouth and told Jason. He loved the idea.

Now I’m locked in. If I change my mind (which may happen) he’ll totally guilt trip me. What is friendship if not one big guilt trip?

So I’m in Canada at least until August ish. They haven’t set a date. I wish they would. I realize there are problems with a sister that took their date and is stealing their thunder. Problems, problems.

I also wish my friends in general would stop assuming that I’m sitting at home waiting for them to call. I may not have much of a life, but I’m trying damn it. I don’t think that they actually think that I’m sitting at home waiting for them, but situations make me feel like that is what is in the back of their subconscious.

And it makes me want to leave.

S.

Conference

2007-11-04T20:14:00.000-08:00

I had mentioned to my friend, IngMarie, that I didn't really know anyone in the city. She suggested attending the Young Women Leadership Conference. I figured, hey, if I'm going to spend 100 bucks I might as well spend it on something that does my soul good and not on a new pair of boots (which I did a few days later. Oops).

A bunch of women in a room together? Sounds scary. But no, it was FAB-U-LOUS!

So, here's the thing. Put me at a dinner table with people I don't know or at a bar, and I'm silent. I hate small talk. If I don't have something to contribute, I don't. I hate when people talk for no reason at all, other than to hear the sound of their own voices (this does not include people who are funny, they can talk all they want). But, put me at a table of people I don't know and have a directed discussion about the qualities of a great leader? Oh, I'm all over that shit.

There was talk of peer mentoring groups and I decided to join one. That will be next week. There were breakout sessions. I went to Entrepreneurship, Women's Relation with money and Volunteering Abroad. Basically, I'll sum up what I learned. Owning your own business? SCARY! My relation with money? I don't have lots of the hang ups that the other girls in my group do (I do not think it's unfeminine to talk about money) but I do have some "blueprints" lurking in my old noggin that need some adjusting. Volunteering abroad? Like I needed more incentive to get on a plane.

For a hundred bucks, I got 4 meals, a door prize of a free haircut, and tons of inspiring thoughts. Not bad for a weekend.

I made the point of sitting next to someone new each and every time we ate and tried to interact with them. I don't think I made any friends but I made a point to myself. I can interact with strangers. I just have to fake that I'm confident and eventually, I'll forget that I'm faking. Hell, a comment about the undergrad who was pumping George Michael's Christmas song with a back beat of house from his res window landed me a ride home. And rides the next day. Thanks George, for helping me become more outgoing!

Good times. Good times.

Six

2007-11-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

“I’m going for coffee, do you want me to grab you anything? I’m going to Starbucks.”

That’s how Tawny started the day yesterday. I hate when people mention certain companies combined the idea of joining. Then I am obligated to say I don’t shop at that store, or use those products. I am always faced with the “why not” question.

The reason is that they are one of my six.

Yeah, I boycott six companies. I would like to boycott every company that I think is terrible, but let’s face it, that would be the vast majority of companies. I don’t expect my lack of money spent will influence these companies in any such way, but hey, I like to feel superior. Yup, big old superiority complex and I don’t feel bad about it in the slightest.

It all started in 2000. I don’t remember the exact details but I remember going to McDonalds and coming out with a conviction. I used to love McDonalds, in the adolescent way of loving everything “cool”. But somewhere along the way I realized that every time I ate at McDonalds, I came out feeling shitty. Greasy. Disgusting. So I stopped. It’s been 7 years and the smell of McDonalds fries wafting on the breeze (how does McDonalds do it? You can smell those fries for miles!) can make me feel nauseous. I have since become a vegetarian and with the exception of Subway (which hasn’t made me feel very good the last few times I went), I no longer spend money at any of the major fast food venues. I won’t even buy a drink. And I feel damn good about that.
If you want to see the ugliest face I can make, just mention the word – WALMART! It’s making me shudder even to type it. I hate everything about Walmart. I hate that they make more money than most countries in the world, but they still bully companies. By that I mean, if a company wants to charge higher prices so they don’t employ children or sweat shop labour, Walmart will stop buying from them, effectively forcing them to use terrible labour practices. Heaven forbid that some American pays 2 cents more, who cares about Chinese children. I hate that they place their huge ugly stores on the outskirts of town, leading to urban sprawl, and increased traffic. I hate that Walmart is the scene of consumerism at its worst, low paid employees and frenzied shoppers. I hate that Walmart doesn’t feel the need to pay female employees the same as male, or have females as managers. I could go on, but really, I just HATE everything to do with Walmart. I won’t even go in their stores, because the lights, I swear, inspire a fog of the mind that puts you in the perfect mode to buy, buy, buy without thinking. Of all things in the world, I hate Walmart the most. End of statement.
Coming from a former b-baller, it may be strange that I don’t buy from Nike. I used to. I used to have new basketball runners every year and I insisted on Nike. Jordan knows best, can’t argue with him. All my workout gear was Nike. But really, everyone knows that despite huge profits the people who make the shoes only make pennies. I can’t have that on my conscience. Now, nothing I own has Nike and I try to steer clear of all major athletic brands that choose to pay huge endorsements to whiny basketball stars rather than their own workers.
Shell is a terrible company and they don’t even try to hide it. In a day and age when alternative fuels have become a catch phrase, Shell doesn’t even pretend to care. It reeks havoc in South America all for the all mighty dollar. A geologist who was investigating Shell in the Amazon went mysteriously missing. Coincidence? I don’t know. I’d rather get an empty tank and have to push my car for kilometers than fill up at a Shell station. But, I don’t own a car, so I really don’t have to worry much about this one.
Starbucks. Why is it suddenly the thing, to walk around in Lululemon gear and have a Starbucks coffee cup in your hand? When did Starbucks become the status symbol for young urbans? Why are there 5 Starbucks in downtown Victoria alone? Starbucks in theory should be good. They support fair-trade. But from what I understand, it’s one hardly bought coffee a month. Why support fair-trade and then put three stores that run at a loss around a local funky shop? I don’t drink Starbucks but I hear it isn’t even good coffee. Why is it everywhere then? I swear, it’s a conspiracy. Just wish I could figure out what kind of conspiracy.
This is my newest one, and it makes me so sad to say it but here goes – Cadbury. Cadbury, the makers of so many delicious chocolate creations. Cadbury, the company that employs child labour in the Ivory Coast. I can not in good conscious buy from a company that dose that. Even if they do make those tiny eggs at Easter. And so many of the chocolates at Halloween. I’m proud to say, that there were tons of Cadbury around the office the other day and I didn’t partake. I did eat other candy which is bad, because Cadbury isn’t the only company that uses children to harvest cocoa. It’s just the first one I heard about.

Hey, I don’t expect you to join in my boycotts. Just don’t expect me to join in your merry displays of consumerism gone bad. Don’t even expect me to join in the using of the air of some of these places. I’m stubborn. And damn proud of it.

So needless to say, I didn’t get anything when Tawny offered. What’s the point of having convictions if you cave when someone else offers to get something for you? Fortunately, being lazy goes nicely with convictions, or at least mine, because to fulfill them, I don't do anything.

The best place in the world

2007-10-28T11:52:00.000-07:00

OK. I admit it. I'm extremely biased. But really, there isn't a person I know who hasn't been to Vancouver Island and not thought it was amazingly beautiful.

The first thing I can think of, when I think of home, is the green. As far as the eye can see. We live in a mid latitude rain forest. Yes, that is why it rains so much. But the rain can be gotten used to, and unfortunately, so can the beauty this island has. You really have to leave to appreciate it.

I have been to some exquisite places. The Caldera of Santorini Island in Greece takes your breath away with its shocking starkness featured against the blue of the ocean. The quaintness of Otaru on Hokkaido Island in Japan, lit up against hundreds of snow sculptures with candles, makes you feel like you are in a wonderland. The underwater miracle that is Koi Phi Phi in Thailand, makes you wish you were born a fish. The Cloud Forest in Peru, high in the Andes is a feeling that can not be properly described.

But as amazing as these places are, Vancouver Island can compete. Take a float plane from Vancouver airport. You leave the mainland and for minutes are complete surrounded by the Georgia Straight. Then, on the horizon, you catch your first glimpse of the island. It is an arc of green. Slowly, the city of Nanaimo can been seen, framed by Mount Benson in the background and the wilderness on either side. Down island, the city of Gardens is world famous. As it should be. As restless as I am, and as much as I have the need to leave, Victoria will be the place I always come back to.

However, my favourite place is one that not many know about. Out on the west coast is the village of Ucluelet, the place I spent the first 5 years of my life. It is tiny and is the rainiest place in Canada. It is here that the west coast rain forest can be seen in full effect. In nearby Tofino people come to watch storms. Yes, watch storms. The beach is so wind blown that the trees grow at strange angles, like they are trying to run away from the beach.

Just down from my Grandmother's house is Hetinkis Park. It's tiny and hardly anyone uses it. In fact, Roots lodge kind of ruined the best parts of it grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Not bitter, not at all. It's a boardwalk through the rain forest and down to a pebble beach surrounded with huge rocks that the waves crash against.

It's beautiful.

When I die, this is where I want my ashes to be spread. Because no place in the world can compete with this tiny peace of paradise.

So, you can see I'm biased about this island. But I'm not the only one. People all over North America think so too.

http://www.cbc.ca/consumer/story/2007/10/26/travel-survey.html

Vancouver Island has been named North America's best island for the sixth year in a row in a Condé Nast Traveler readers' choice survey that also awarded sixth-place honours to P.E.I.

So forgive me if I gloat a little. Tony Blair recently said to look out for Canada as it is set to become a powerful nation. Maybe Ontario and Alberta will. Us here in BC are far too occupied enjoying our Eden.

S.

Weekends are for...

2007-10-27T15:49:00.001-07:00

I love to sleep. It's a fact. Apparently even as a child I loved to sleep. If I don't want to, I don't get out of bed. What's the point?

In Japan the earliest I had to be at work was 10:30 and that suited me just fine. The other thing that suited me fine was doing karaoke until 6:00 am and then sleeping the next day away. I got back to Canada, got a job and shock upon shock... I had to be there at 8:00. AM! Oh the horror. I make it there in time but I'm not exactly happy.

This morning I woke. But I didn't open my eyes. I laid in bed and thought pleasant thoughts for as long as I could. Finally, I couldn't stand the tedium anymore. I cracked one eye. I shot a look at the clock. 9:00 am? That's my sleep in? Crap. I think I may actually be an adult now. You know, one who goes to bed at decent hour and wakes up before the sun has reached its zenith.

I'm 27 and I absolutely refuse to be an adult. I just wish my body would listen.

So, up I got and went down to Beacon Hill Park. I'm not exactly sure if I was going for a walk or a run. I kind of did both. Then I gave up on both those ideas and scrambled around on the rocks down at the ocean. Got some vitamin D into my bones.

So as I was making my way in Beacon Hill Park I stopped to smile at the squirrels. I love squirrels. They are mad. Flitting here and there. Love everything about them. Was looking at one climbing a tree when I glanced down and noticed one coming toward me. I figured, that since so many people use the park (British Columbians are outdoorsy!) that the squirrel was used to us and not afraid to get close.

Um. Yeah. Not afraid at all.

The squirrel came up to me. I sensed that he wanted a nut or something, the way he was eyeing my empty hand. Maybe to him it wasn't empty. Maybe it held all kinds of squirrel like possibilities. So he jumped.

Oh yeah, the squirrel tried to jump on me.

I let out a screech that was far, far too girlie. Luckily, I have cat like reflexes when I need them and that squirrel landed on the ground rather than my thigh which is what he was aiming for. He looked me. I looked at him. And I hightailed it out of there. Which really isn't fair, seeing as he's the one with the tail.

Attacked by a squirrel on a day when I couldn't sleep in. What is the world coming to?

S.

No freakin' wonder

2007-10-25T13:54:00.000-07:00

My name is Shari but I pronounce it like Sheri, not like shaa-ri. It's my name and I can pronounce it anyway I like. Besides, it's a derivative of Sharon which most people pronounce as Sherin anways.

I digress. It's a bit of a sore subject with me.

In Japan the kids that I taught called me Shari-sensei. Pronounced nice and proper like. When I went and taught with other teachers, they introduced me the way I like. Except Aaron. Aaron figured because there was no "she" sound in the Japanese language, he would use the "sha" sound. It's hard to explain this if you don't know the Japanese vowels, because they don't sound like they look in English. S-h-e would be pronounced like sh plus the e in egg. Sha would be pronounced like shampoo.

So I would be Shaari sensei with an a like shampoo in his class. The kids would giggle. Never really understood why. However, they giggled about most things that I did so I never had another thought about it.

Monday was Heroes night. The boys and I watch it every Monday. So Stephen and I used the opportunity to make sushi. I knew there was a recipe to make the rice, so I looked it up on wikipedia. And I come across this lovely sentence...

The common ingredient across all the different kinds of sushi is sushi rice (known as shari in Japanese).

Note the "known as shari in Japanese". No freakin' wonder they were laughing at me. He was calling me sushi rice sensei.

Hmph.

Brother o Brother

2007-10-24T15:11:00.000-07:00

My whole life I felt like I was supposed to have a brother. I can't really explain it. Just a feeling I had. I even went so far as to concoct this whole story in my head that perhaps I had been a twin in the womb and that my twin had somehow mysteriously died without anyone even noticing that he existed.

Hey, I was 12 and have always had an overactive imagination.

But I only had a sister. My lil sis who is forever besting me at everything I do. It's not good for the ego I tell ya. Perhaps it is for the best. Big brothers (which is what I wanted) do gross things to little sisters growing up and taunted them endlessly. Well, my friend's brothers did. Horribly nicknames and endless farting incidents and always the excuse that the testosterone made them do it.

So, home I came from Japan and home I came to a big announcement. Dad's girlfriend is pregnant and due in February.

Once I had gotten over my shock, immediately it popped into my mind that it was going to be a boy. I like to think I'm psychic. The odds are actually on the female side because most of the Nakagawa boys have had girls. Dad had two girls. Girl births are more prevalent in society as it is. But let's face it... my feeling when I was 12ish clearly has more weight. Right?

Came home from Vancouver last weekend to an email from Dad. It's a boy.
Vindication.

A boy and only 27 years later than I had expected.

Tammy wants a Japanese middle name to match Dad, Nadine and me. She says I can pick it out. I'm currently leaning to Taiki but we'll see.

S.

Old Friends

2007-10-21T21:38:00.001-07:00

It's funny how your memory can change them.

Sure, you don't see them for awhile and all you can remember, really, is their name. You add adjectives, fun, sweet, awesome... but really, what does it all mean?

In some cases, you forget their annoying traits. You forget that you, for the sake of your friendship, should only be in their company for a few hours. You forget that you like quiet time and they can't stop talking.

It's good that you are older. Where once you would have said something nasty, or rolled your eyes, you hold it in until bed when you can let out the huge sigh of annoyance. That's a sign of maturity, right? You remind yourself over and over that this person is your friend, just maybe... a tad on the noisy and self absorbed side.

Then there are some friends that in your head you know better than you actually do. There must be something to talk about.

Then there are some friends who you forget about. You forget about the long night chats via msn you used to have. You forget about the crazy ass pictures you took at DisneySea in Tokyo. You think as the commitments for the weekend add up, maybe I should postpone seeing this person. But you don't. When you see her round the corner at the mall, you feel the giddy rush of excitement. And you find as you chat, that nothing has changed. And that makes you so freakin' happy that you almost want to miss your ferry home.

Old friends. Our actions may speak louder than words, but our friends show the true depths of our characters - to ourselves.

Good weekend. But it's good to be back on my island.
S.

The Landlord

2007-10-18T17:29:00.000-07:00

Help! My nickname was attacked.

2007-10-17T20:40:00.000-07:00

I was never a girl that liked nicknames. I found them endlessly embarrassing as a girl. Then again, my family had strange ones for each other. Lit? Snub? Blueberry? Seriously, our names are Nadine and Shari. Nadine likes to call me "lub" for reasons I will never understand.

Anyways, I grudgingly gave in sometime in high school and accepted although never loved, the nickname Share-bear. It all seemed a little to cutesy to me and I was never a cutesy girl in high school. Actually, I think I was more of a misery in high school. Maybe that's why I can remember very little of it.

Just before I left for Japan, Bonnie presented me with a share-bear. Not like the one here. Mine has a sundae on it, which apparently was changed to lollipops in 2002 because sharing sundaes spreads germs (or in Shari-land, we don't share sundaes because, well... get you own!). Share-bear sat on my bookshelf and reminded me in my darkest moments abroad, that I had friends back home, who loved me enough to call me a silly name after a cutesy doll.

I know. That last sentence makes me want to gag too.

The day before I was scheduled to leave Japan, I found myself at the local shopping mecca. I rounded a corner in one of the overly cute sections and found myself face to face with a share-bear bonanza. Before I knew it, I had a face cloth and a small stuff doll on a chain that is meant to be attached to your cell phone (why I don't know, seeing as it is bigger than today's cells). Sense finally came to me just before I reached the smiling Japanese girl at the counter and I talked myself out of the facecloth. After all, I'm not a child. I can make due with only the small plush right? Right?

So, big Share-bear lives on my shelf and small Share-bear lives on my purse. My travel buddy.

On Monday I went over to Jason and Stephen's for our weekly dinner and Heroes night (I love that show). Chillin' in the kitchen and talking. Good times. Until Jason went into the living room and I suddenly hear "Bishop... NO!"

Chills.

Bishop is their Pomeranian. A Pomeranian living with 2 gay guys, who has a thing for purses.
By the time Jason found him, Bishop had discovered Share-bear Jr. and chewed.. the... ass.... off.
My nickname has had it's ass chewed off. What does that mean? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

I guess Share-bear Jr and it's no bum will have to remain at home from this point forward. I mean, a girl can only take so many assaults on her nickname.

S.

Guilty Conscience

2007-10-16T15:16:00.001-07:00

I was minding my own business. A girl has a right to head for the grocery store listening to music very loudly and ignoring everyone around me. Normally when a person tried to talk to me, I just pretend like I can't hear them. It's very efficient. I hate stopping and talking to people I don't know. It's just.... so .... friendly. Ick.

The problem was he was just so cute.

So, I took out my earphones. He was saying something about Greenpeace. I was looking at his pretty teeth.

The next thing I knew "I already donate to Greenpeace" was coming out of my mouth. He smiled, gave me a high five and told me I rocked. I accepted said compliment and then went into the grocery store.

The thing is... I don't donate to Greenpeace. Or Amnesty International, to whom I lied to yesterday (he wasn't near as cute, dreadlocks don't do it for me). If I was going to donate, it would be these two organizations. I would love to donate. But I have no spare money. Sure, I'm making decent money but I'm not actually sure where it goes.

But why the lie?

I think I just wanted the pretty boy to think I was a girl with a conscience rather than a girl with an addiction to jewelry.

S.

With Furniture...

2007-10-14T10:30:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing. When you are a purging maniac like I am (not the bulimic type, rather the type that likes to throw away personal possessions) and you move to another country, your furniture goes AWOL. But, you are gone for two and half years and you forget that you hauled it to the dump or gave it away for a pittance. In your head, you have a whole shitload of furniture waiting patiently for your eventual arrival home.

Yeah, I do have a selective memory. I choose not to deal with it.

So, home I came two months ago, and quickly discovered... I don't own a bed, among other deficits in my furniture-less state. No biggie, right? I had hardly any furniture in Japan. I can deal.

So, I moved into a tiny apartment in the non-downtown downtown section of Victoria. It's not the size of the hamster cage I lived in in Japan but it is tiny. 250 square feet to be precise and has a shared bathroom. But seriously, when you are only paying 385 a month, you deal, even if the girl upstairs always likes to take looooonnnnggg baths when you really have to pee.

The previous tenant had left me a loft bed. It sounded fun in theory. Everything that has loft in the title sounds fun. But in reality, it was a bunk bed minus the bottom bunk. So, that first night, I braved the loft. Climbed up the ladder, tried to lay down, quickly freaked out, climbed down, pulled the mattress off the loft and set it up on the floor. Classy. Apparently, I'm not 8 years old, the only right age to be sleeping in a bunk bed.

Got rid of that thing as soon as it was possible to make Robin come and get the bed. Alina sold me her futon which is nothing like my poor futon in Japan. It really should be called a bed/couch. It's comfy though. So, for a month that's what I had. Computer on the floor and the rest of my life on a bed. Unfortunately, the rest of my life is pretty boring at the moment.

So, you can realize my excitement this weekend. I was getting... furniture. Mom brought me a computer desk and Dad brought me a sofa and one of the pink high backed chairs that I absolutely loved in my house growing up. The minute I move somewhere bigger I'm getting the other one. Even if I have to steal it.

I'm all for reducing our personal possessions. But life without furniture... well you might as well be a dog, roaming the floor for scraps.

On the other hand, there sure isn't much room now to have one person dance parties. Maybe I'll actually have to go out to get my dancing in. Alas.

S.

Something Fun

2007-10-12T16:37:00.000-07:00

http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,22556281-661,00.html

This is weird, Stephen told me as he sent me the forward. With Stephen you never know what is going to be at the other end of the link. Fortunately we were at work thus nothing too crazy could be there.

Well, there was the dancing woman. Spinning and spinning in a counter clockwise direction. I stared at her a good while. Try as I might, I couldn't change her direction. I exclaimed my frustration loudly.

I know, said Stephen, I can only make her go clockwise.

She's going counterclockwise.

No clockwise.

We stared at each other in frustration. Back to the computer I went. Staring at her feet, all of a sudden, poof she changed direction. Now clockwise. Poof, now counter clockwise. Apparently it's just a matter of mind of matter. As it were. I like to think it means I'm smart.

As you can see, we are all very busy at work. Doing work related things.

S.

You know you LOVE it!

2007-10-11T13:07:00.000-07:00

You can deny it all you want, but secretly you totally get down in your house by yourself. And why not? Get down with your bad self.

Gimme gimme gimme more... shoes!

S.

Non-Turkey Day

2007-10-10T15:03:00.000-07:00

It’s amazing what Thanksgiving does to people.

Suddenly thoughts of family and gushy gushy “quality time” invade the brain. Normally I shudder and push these thought to the far reaches of my brain where they can remain safe from the cold hard realities of the world outside my brain. But when it comes to Thanksgiving my filters just don’t work. Thus, family and the traditional dinner it is.

At least I thought so.

I mean, traditional dinner doesn’t work when there are two vegetarians in the family. We aren’t fair-weather vegetarians either. There are some who have a day off their vegetarianism. Perhaps they are the type that is in it to save the cutesy wootesy animals. Turkeys aren’t going to win any beauty contests after all. However, I’m in it to save the world. I can be pretentious if I want to.

But, my hopes of the traditional dinner were dashed when my mom decided to announce that she was off to Kelowna for the holidays. I tried the emotional blackmail thing but clearly am not a mother and thus, can not pull off that gut twisting guilt thing. Go figure.

My sister was working nights anyways. So Dad, Dad’s girlfriend, Dad’s girlfriend’s friend, my sister, sister’s boyfriend and I went out for Thanksgiving lunch. At our favourite Indian restaurant. Nice and traditional.

That night I did go to a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. I had managed to wheedle my way into a friend’s family dinner. The Zutz’s are the loud family who always has the meals with too much food. Alina promised to cook me lobster tail, so as if I was going to pass that one up.

After listening to the pre-dinner show of an Aussie taking the piss out of a Newfoundlander, we settled down to dinner. Toasts were made. Alina’s brother is off to Grande Prairie for reasons that I will never understand because really, who in their right minds wants to live in the prairies? Alina got a little teary at that point which I suppose if you are close to your brother you get. I don’t see how you can get teary eyed over a brother who in high school used to sit on your face and fart, but maybe that’s just me.

The loud brother didn’t take kindly to the tears and told her to stop. Boys are boys, 3 years old or 30. Which is why I was then beamed with a flying carrot. I shot Keith my teacher look but apparently he doesn’t respond to those looks. It makes sense. I don’t think he responded to those looks in school as it were anyways. He just shrugged and said “you shouldn’t have sat next to her.”

Thanksgiving. Always an adventure. Of some sort.

S.

Descent

2007-10-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

As a child I was the fancy girl. Apparently I loved dresses and abhorred getting them dirty. I say apparently because I have no recollection of this.

But then I got older. One day in grade 6 I came home and announced to my parents that “I had joined the basketball team”. Something sparked in my poor, lone man in the house, father’s eyes and poof, we were out on the local court. That day I ran many laps and learned how to play defense. I was not even allowed to touch a ball for weeks. Fundamentals you know.

That sealed my fate for the next decade. I was the girl that wore a sports bra every day because they were more comfortable. I suppose the term tom-boy applies here but really, I was just lazy. Perhaps boys in this day and age are bombarded with the ideas of metrosexuality and thus have as much grooming/dressing issues as us girls do, but in my teenage years, dressing like guys was the easier route.

About 8 years ago, I got a job at a bag store. The constant bombardment of purses got to me. Sure, I made fun of the ladies whose purses and shoes just “had to match”. You would too if you had heard the words they used. Because the world does hang in the balance if you don’t find an off-white purse to match those off-white pumps that you are lugging around from store to store.

Regardless of what I thought of these ladies, I soon found myself with a healthy collection of purses. I figured that was it. Everyone needs a functional bag right? If it just happens to be the cutest thing imaginable is just a bonus.

Then I got a job at a jewelry store.

I have always worn necklaces but they were a mere after thought. But after 10 months of trying on all the jewelry (especially the ten thousand dollar diamond, whoo baby!) I was converted. Rings and necklaces and bracelets, oh my! I drew the line at earrings. I had to maintain my dignity somehow.

Two and half years in a different country can get to you. I arrived in Japan and immediately started in on my favourite sport – Japanese accessories. Jewelry? Strange. Haircuts? Feathered disasters. Shoes and their ability to walk in them? Can I even describe the pigeon toed shuffle in heels that the Japanese women have perfected?

However, attitudes can change. Somewhere along the line I developed an obsession with earrings. Big ones. I got a Japanese haircut. But the day I knew I HAD to leave was the one when I started to like the shoes there.

So I came home and hoped for normalcy to kick in.

But all I can think about is a pair of red patent mary jane pumps at the Bay.

Japan may have finally done the impossible and made a girl out of me. Working in the corporate world may do the worst and make me a *insert shudder* fancy girl.

The Switch

2007-10-04T13:42:00.000-07:00

After much thought, I have decided to move my blog. Why? Mostly because I think the msn Live site is too busy. Plus, I'm too lazy to change the formatting and remove things. I prefer clean slates. They are so... clean.

It's fun to dirty them up.

Apparently, blogspot doesn't have a function where I can import my old blog posts. There are suggestions of cutting and pasting. This is where I use my favourite Japanese word - mendokusai. That means I can't be bothered. And I can't be bothered. Thus, old posts can be found at http://sharinakagawa.spaces.live.com.

I still need to think of a purpose for this blog. The old one was about being an expat in Japan. However, seeing as my person has been removed from Japan I can no longer blog about that. Well, I could, but that would be downright LIE! I was going to blog about my repatriating myself but eh, b-o-r-i-n-g. So, I'll think about it some more. I promise to try to be amusing. I think I'm pretty amusing but then again, I am the funniest person in the world - to myself.

I'll stop babbling now. Perhaps I will even go and do some work.

S.