Old Friends

After a few late nights out and a very rain-soaked day dragonboating at the Alcan Festival today, I came home tonight in the dark looking for my bed and a good book. After staring at my shelves for a few minutes and making a goodie bag of books for my friend Annie, I came across a thin paperback wedged in between a few trashy smut novels that I reserve for my "stupid days" when my brain can't handle anything better. It was my much coveted copy of the selected poems of H.D. I remember sitting in an English class several years ago and being fascinated by an electric letter Hilda Doolittle (H.D.) had written to Ezra Pound, flamboyantly signed "H.D., Imagiste." Her words were the first in all of the Modernist works we were spoonfed that I was captivated by; I had to make do with photocopies as most of her work is out of print. Later that spring, on a road trip to San Francisco with my then-boyfriend and his friends, I made a pilgrimage to City Lights bookstore. I remember crowing when I found one last leftover copy of H.D.'s selected works a dark corner in the basement. I spent the entire trip back north sprawled in the back of the VW van we were (slowly) travelling in, reading lines out loud because I just couldn't help myself (you can imagine how well that went over).

So, funny. Tonight I am reminded alot of old friends, like H.D., and like that boyfriend, and other friends, who are no longer part of the life I live now. It's nice to be able to haul out that book for an evening, and remember where it (and I) have come from. Sometimes it helps to know where you've been; and sometimes it's better not to look back but to continue looking forward. The trick to life may be achieving some balance between the two. Goodnight.

"Moonrise"

Wiill you glimmer on the sea?
will you fling your spear-head
on the shore?
what note shall we pitch?
we have a song,
on the bank we share our arrows;
the loosed string tells our note:

O flight,
bring her swiftly to our song.
She is great,
we measure her by the pine trees.

-H.D.

Seen in Passing...

...walking home from work today, down Davie Street towards English Bay. A guy stopped as he passed the newspaper boxes near the corner of Thurlow and Davie. He looked at them, frowned in concentration as if he was examining the headlines, and then pulled a large red marker out of his pocket. I moved closer to see what he was doing. He was putting a red circle and a line (the universal symbol for "no") over a swastika someone had grafitti-ed in black marker on the glass window of one of the newspaper boxes. When he was finished, he stood back, had a look at his handiwork, capped his pen, put it in his backpack, and moved down the street. I guess he kept it handy for just that kind of occasion...

O Blogger Where Art Thou?

I'm here, I'm here! I've been so busy with work that this blog has gone woefully neglected; it's not that nothing's been happening, it's just that a) it either happened at work and I don't want to get fired by writing about it, or b) I got home from work too late to write about it and barely had time to make dinner before collapsing into bed. Yes, it's a little life, the life of an articling student. I'll be spending this weekend in and out of the office, too. But I'm going to endeavour to keep this blog alive, even if I've lost everyone who bothered to look at it, since it's been so long since I've posted.

First off, though, a big HOLLA to my cousin Kathleen, who kicked some academic ass this semester in university. Way to go Kath, we're all so proud of you. Next stop, September graduation.

In my world:
- Went home for Easter; my family and I made the front page of the local paper for heckling at the local Easter parade. We were heckling in fuzzy bunny ears, which is possibly the most ridiculous (and therefore hilarious) part of the whole thing.
- Ran the Sun Run 10K in 76:22. Two years ago I walked my first 10K in approximately 90 minutes, and ran maybe a kilometre out of the whole thing before I was gasping for air. While I didn't improve greatly on my time this year, I ran the whole. darn. thing. I was a pretty smiley kid when I hobbled across the finish line. If I didn't have what I suspect is a sprain or bone injury to my ankle as a result of aforementioned Sun Run, I could have run the Times Colonist 10K this weekend in Victoria, just on the leftover adrenaline from completing the Sun Run. It was a great feeling.
- I've been training for this years' dragonboat season with the OARDeal team. Last week was the first Saturday we weren't out in False Creek paddling in the rain. Hooray for Spring in Vancouver.
- My dad won a sweet-ass 60GB IPod Video. Despite not having a computer on which he can USE the damn thing, he still refuses to give it up to me to replace my now obsolete Mini, which we affectionately refer to as DinoPod.

I'm now reading There is a Season by Patrick Lane, and trying as I read to remember all the horror stories friends of mine in the writing program at UVIC used to tell about him back in the day. I'm reading it because it was the winner of this year's "One Book, One Vancouver" contest. This is significant because it's the first time I've admitted that, yes, I'm a Vancouverite...although I doubt that if the book wasn't set at home, in Victoria, that I'd be reading it. Oh well, baby steps. I may have left the nest physically but it's taking more time to let go emotionally...

Nerd Alert

Here's a link to a paper I wrote on the impact of the US Patriot Act on public sector outsourcing in BC, that was presented at a Public Procurement conference in January 2006. Don't feel obliged to read it, unless you're my parent. I wouldn't make anyone else sit through it.

St. Patrick's Day Parade, March 19, 2006

Saturday marked the end of Celtfest, with Vancouver's St. Patrick's Day parade, featuring the Indo-Canadian Cultural Centre's bhangra dancers and this lovely float from the Vancouver Dragonboat Society. Only in Vancouver, people. Only in Vancouver.

Disturbingly enough, trapped inside this pot of gold were children. You can see one, on the left, poking her head out and gasping for air. How the kiddie-prisoners added to the overall effect, I dunno.

Me. Enjoying some sun.

Obligatory picture of Highland Dancers.

Police puppies!

There his is, the man himself, with the Good Book and a staff, to drive those serpents out of Ireland. I should note that his presence did nothing to drive away the weirdos in their sleeping bags sleeping along the parade route on Granville Street.

Star Stalking

Saw the back of Pierce Brosnan's head this afternoon, and got close enough to Mario Bello to gasp at the centimetres and centimetres of makeup she was wearing. They are filming at Hy's Steakhouse on Dunsmuir and Hornby, which happens to be next to my office, and when I stepped out for a stroll this afternoon saw Pierce waslking into Hy's, while Mario Bello waited outside with the crew, wrapped in a big blue blanket wearing very-clashy dark brown Uggs.

And if you don't know who Maria Bello is, I suggest you visit IMDB. I did. It was very informative.

Whistler February 2006

In the beginning of February my firm hosted a ski weekend at Whistler for all the students and their various hangers-on. I made a stink that I would probably be the only person without a "plus-one" and didn't want to go. So Edy got on a plane so he could be there. Then, nobody else's "plus-one" made it. Boy, was Edy impressed with me then.

We got up insanely early. I wondered if maybe we could stay at the chalet a little bit? Note our looks of enthusiasm.

In the parking lot...we're ready to go.

Me and my Midget board, waiting for the shuttle bus to the lifts.

On the shuttle bus.

Whistler February 2006 Take Two

My boots weren't a great fit and I keep taking voluntary breaks to sit my butt down in the snow. Edy took every opportunity to document this so he could show people pictures of all the times I "fell." My new nickname is "Snowball" apparently.

Time for a hot chocolate. It was so snowy and windy that day that the lifts opened late, and we could hear avalanche charges being set off all day. It's a little concerting to hear a massive "boom" when you're going down a run...

On the gondola.

Again, I must stress to you that I was VOLUNTARILY sitting down here. I did not, I repeat, DID NOT fall on my ass.

Go Team Canada

OK, come on. Who can wear this stuff and not laugh?!

We've actually been offered a modelling contract with Roots.

Only Edy could talk me into renting a bicycle built for two. We embarassed the hell out of our friends when we showed up for a lunch date on this puppy. Both of us had our own horns, which was convenient for creating a public nuisance.

Edy takes a break for the Best. Hashbrowns. Ever. Sophie's on 4th.

The chariot.

Return of the Cat

Earlier I posted about Sampson, the cat I've been having secret trysts with on the way to work. Edy took these photos so I can anonymously mail them to the girl he's cheating on me with by letting her pet him (the cat, not Edy) when I'm not around. Later we might record a cover of that Brandy-Monica duet, called "The Cat is Mine."

He's so nice, but he leaves alot of orange fur on my coat.

He's a good boy but I think his owner is getting miffed that he does a running jump from the porch to the gate to see me and actually came out and took him inside the other day. Oh, the things people do for the love of a cat....

Brokeback Mooting

This is a great clip from the law students at the University of Alberta. I don't know if its humour translates to non-law folks, but check it out anyway, it's pretty clever.

Brokeback Mooting

Star-Gazing Sunday

So my friend Mike is in town to write some exams and we spent the day wandering around malls in Vancouver...I took him to my new favorite store, Whole Foods, and we needed to go to Eddie Bauer to get his traditional exam-day socks (must wear a new pair for exam, without fail). Anyways, we decided to swing by Pacific Centre in the mistaken belief that there was an Eddie Bauer there, and parked in the underground parkade.

Now, I hate underground parking. Maybe it's some sort of claustrophobia I inherited from my dad, maybe I've seen too many episodes of Alias where Sidney Bristow gets attacked by guys in an undergound parking lot. I just don't like 'em, and I was chatting away, telling Mike this as we walked into the vestibule where the elevators that take you up to the mall are located. As we walked in, the door to the opposite side of the parkade opened, and in walked Alanis Morrissette. I wasn't sure if it was her, but then Ryan Reynolds walked in, as I am something of an E!Online scholar, I knew they were engaged and that it must be the real deal. I tried to keep talking normally but gave Mike a gentle kick in the ankle and sort of glanced in their direction (they were about oh, 2 feet away) to oh-so-casually let him know that we were in the presence of B-List, former Grammy-winning, Two Guys, A Girl and a Pizza Place greatness. He didn't get it.

"Ow!" he yelled. "You kicked me! Why did you kick me?"

Alanis and Ryan looked at us. I blushed. "I didn't kick you," I stammered, doing my best to ignore him. "Yes you did," he insisted. "You kicked me!" I muttered something about having something stuck to my heel and trying to get it off. At that point the elevator opened so I rushed in to escape. Ryan and Alanis stood right in front of us in the elevator.

"Is it because I said I didn't think you looked like Jennifer Garner?" Mike asked. "Is that why you kicked me?" I was staring at the back of the celebrities' heads to see if they were laughing at what was going on or had even copped on to what was happening, but they did a really good job of ignoring us and being all smoochie-lovey (they ARE supposed to be getting married ASAP, so that was cute). Reconciling myself to the fact that Mike wasn't going to catch on and reap the benefits of our celebrity sighting, I jumped on his excuse and ran with it, and launched into an elevator-ride-long monologue on my secret desire to be like Sidney Bristow and be a PVC-clad double agent (the thought had never occurred to me) and how I was miffed he didn't think I had the moxie (or abs) to pull it off.

Anyways, Mike remained oblivious as we walked out of the elevator, at which point I tried to inform him quietly who had been in the elevator with us. He didn't believe me until we saw them heading into Holt Renfrew a little later.

If they heard us, they were very gracious to pretend not to notice and continue on. Nobody else looked at them at all, and I would never have dared approach them. Maybe that's why they hang out in Vancouver. They were both extremely good looking people in person, better looking than any music video or National Lampoons vehicle might have led us to believe. She was very short, he was very...tall. Cute couple.

And that's it for Star Gazing Sunday, unless you count my automated phone call from Jack Layton tonight asking me if I had voted Liberal in the past but would consider voting NDP tommorrow. And to be honest, I won't know how I'm gonna vote until I walk into that polling station tommorrow. But it was nice of him to call.