Oh, Right.

This is why I hate Edmonton.

(Okay. So I know it's not Edmonton's fault that it exists in some kind of rational-thought vaccuume, in a province populated by capital-C Conservatives. I also know it has no control over its weather. But come on! -45!? How is it that anyone actually lives here?!)

Teeth, again.

I was filling out a reference form for an ex-assistant of mine that is applying to various Dentistry schools. One question in particular stood out:

To your knowledge, has the applicant ever been involved in any activity which might indicate unsuitability for dentistry?

Whatever are they referring to? The black market tooth trade? Some involvement in that horrible tooth fairy movie? Irregular flossing?

Edmonton Hates You

I would like to posit the hypothesis that Edmonton is not pedestrian unfriendly, but is, in fact, pedestrian intolerant.

Like most intolerant cities, Edmonton has the appearance of tolerance. If you want to walk within a 10 block radius of, say, Whyte or Jasper Ave, or if you're trying ot get to a mall then Edmonton is all welcoming and helpful. However, should you need to travel much further north or south of those areas, or to a place with no malls, the Great City of Edmonton's mask of tolerance falls, and with frigid, petrol-soaked breath it emits a booming, "Fuck you, buy a car."

The Greatest City in Canada

Here are some pictures (all courtesy of Cricket) of our time in Halifax and at Peggy's Cove.

1st Post of 2008

The highlight of my Cristmas this year: the birth of my nephew Jackson ("Jack not Jax") Stewart on Dec. 20th. The rest of my break, while great, and fun, and full of food and presents, kind of just paled in comparison.

I'd post a picture of him, but I don't like posting pictures of children on the internet. It seems wrong somehow.

U23D

Getting that widget to post was a bitch, but I had to do it. How can I not promote a U2 movie? This is, I should point out, only the 2nd U2 movie to be released in theatres. It's a big deal. And it's in 3-friggen-D. How awesome will that be? I can't even begin to describe how much I'm looking forward to this. Imagine a chocolate-and-candy-cane fed 8-year-old at 10:30pm Christmas Eve. I think that begins to approximate my excitement. U2! 3D! I'll be able to reach out and pretend I'm touching the giant, 52-foot head of Bono. According to the website this is some fancy, newfangled way to make 3D. Damn, this better play in Edmonton.

Okay, so I should admit that I've watched the clip in the widget like, 15 times. I know it's only a stupid widget but somehow it manages to capture the sound of U2 live. There's something about their music in concert, it sends chills down my back. It has something to do with being in the same room with them, about being there as they make the sounds. I sometimes think that U2 concerts are as close as I will ever come to a religious experience. Damn. I really have to see this movie.

National Geographic? Seriously?

At least it's not another movie about polar bears. Damn bears.

Tat

An astute observer noticed my tattoo action-shot (on right) and I figured I was about time that I posted something about it. I got it in September when my mom was visiting. I got a gorgeous Atlantic cod (seriously) on my back, and she got an awesome Joshua tree on her lower calf. As for the experience…

(Swearing alert – Cricket read no further)

…it fucking hurt. I knew it would be painful, and at first it wasn’t too bad, but then it got worse. The outline felt like someone was cutting my skin with a knife or razor. The colouring felt like I was being stabbed really hard, really fast. I got it on my back, and whenever he was working over my spine was the worst, it felt like the pain was spreading. I didn’t cry or anything, it wasn’t a crying kind of pain. It was more like a holyfuckingfuckwhenisitgoingtoend? kind of pain. Of course, now, in hindsight, it doesn’t seem so bad. Even though it still hurt after the fact: for the first day or so it was sore and felt kind of wet, which is weird because it didn’t bleed or anything.

The problem with having the tat on my back, is that I can’t get a really good look at it. I’ve seen pictures, sure, and everyone says it looks really good. I have to say, it’s a pretty sweet fish, the details are amazing. I’m so impressed by how he got the barbel and the lateral line and the fin rays and the spots!

My mom’s Joshua tree turned out awesomely as well.

So far, I’ve loved the tattoo experience. The pain was just the price I had to pay for this amazing piece of art. Thinking about it makes me happy and when I catch glimpses of it in the mirror, I smile. And you know what they say about tattoos being addictive? I’d say they are contagious as well. After seeing mine many people have expressed serious interest in getting their own. I say, go for it.

Ca va, et tu?

Those of you that haven’t experienced the awesomeness that is Flight of the Conchords should really jump on the bandwagon before everyone else does. This clip is from their show. Anyone who took French as a core subject from Grades 4-9 will totally get this. This might be the only song in French that I’ve actually understood.



My niece is being raised bilingual. This is really good for her, in terms of job opportunities and her future and all. The thing that worries me is what if she grows up favouring French? What kind of conversations will I be able to have with her?

Je m’appelle Auntie Leslie

Sophie, ou est la bibliotheque?

Sophie, quelle heure est t’il?

Pamplemousse.

Seriously, my command of French is pretty sad.

Fond Memories of Juan

Poor Halifax got hit with an almost-hurricane this past weekend. This, of course, triggered thoughts of Hurricane Juan. I have quite fond memories of that hurricane. I hadn’t been entirely convinced there was going to be a hurricane, it all seemed like alarmist talk to me. That was probably one of the reasons a bunch of us went diving and camping right before it hit. I actually slept through the storm itself, and I was on a work term and got 2 paid days off. It was all pretty sweet, except for the paramedic that died, and all the destruction in the Public Gardens and Point Pleasant.

Anyway, I braved the pop-ups on my old blog and found my pre-and post Juan entries to share. I realize that recycling old posts is just as much of a cop out as posting pictures and videos instead of original material. But I don’t care.

September 28, 2003 4:54pm
The pub crawl was fun. Except Dal has officially banned pub crawls, so it was a walking tour of downtown drinking establishments, and we all wore the same shirt by sheer coincidence. It started at Dooly's for pool, then on to the Split Crow for an hour. After that it was the Seahorse Tavern (home of Mullet Mondays), then on to Pitchman's. After Pitchman's we went to Pacifico, and they almost didn't let one of us in because it looked like her ID had been tampered with. She's 22! After Pacifico was the Palace, which I don't like so much and didn't go to. I had to get home and get some sleep because the next day I was diving!

The diving was ass. It was a complete waste of money and time. It was the worst dive ever! So many things went wrong. The plan was for the five of us to drive down to Lunenberg, do a couple of dives in the afternoon and camp that night at The Ovens. We didn't even leave Halifax to go to Lunenberg until after 2pm. Everyone we talked to said, "There's a hurricane coming, girls," and "It's supposed to downpour tonight." We were going to rent our gear in Hali, but decided to wait until we got to Lunenberg and saw what the conditions were. It wasn't raining yet, and it was overcast but not too dark, so we rented gear there. Except it's a tourist spot, so it was about $20 more than it would have been in Halifax.

We had to go set up our tents at the site first. We checked in and the lady said, "It's going to rain." Okay. Rain. Hurricane. We get it. We set up, then headed to the dive site. It was almost 6 by the time we got to the dive site. The sun sets at 7. It was a nice beach, but the swells were pretty big. The site had been recommended to us, and I didn't know it was a shallow dive (less than 30 feet). We snorkeled out for awhile, and for the first 50 meters out, we couldn't see anything. As we got further from shore, it got better.

At the bottom the visibility was about 5-10 feet. Not good, especially since one of the girls in the group likes to wander off by herself. Also, the waves were so big that you could feel them at the bottom as well. Generally you don't feel the waves that deep, but I guess with the hurricane and everything... After about 20 minutes Danielle couldn't clear her ears, and Monica was sea sick. They headed back to shore, and the remaining three of us went down again, and promptly lost sight of each other and had to surface again to get our barrings. It just wasn't a fun dive. On the way back in we had to swim against the waves to get back to the car. We gave up and followed the waves in, then just walked back up the beach with all out gear. It wasn't a fun dive, it was just a lot of work. It was almost dark when we got out, and it was dark by the time we got back to the site. We all felt miserable.

That didn't last long. As crappy as the dive was, the camping was fabulous. The weather was perfect, not a single cloud in the sky, we had the entire park to ourselves. Our site was about a minute away from a cliff that jutted out over the ocean. The waves were spectacular, we could hear the crash and roar all night. And it didn't rain a single drop.

We built a fire, had hot dogs, smores, and beer and just had a great time. We have vowed to go back in the spring and get more than one measly dive in.

The Ovens are beautiful, by the way. It's a bunch of undercuts in the rocks, and the waves crash against them and send up huge sprays. It's way better than Peggy's Cove.

October 1, 2003 8:09am
Juan, Juan. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
56 hours without power (and counting!)
36 hours without phones
2 days without work
40,000 trees down in Point Pleasant
3 luke-warm showers
3 days without Hotmail (and counting!)
More later.

October 3, 2003 7:50am
Juan, Juan. How do I love thee? Let me recount the ways:
104 hours without power (and counting!)
45,000 homes in the HRM still without power
4 candle-lit nights
1 fridge of spoiled food
x number of graves unearthed by falling trees
600 Military men in town on "Operation Splinter"
5 candle-lit showers
5 days without Hotmail (and counting!)

October 5, 2003 3:35pm
It's a crappy, dark rainy day here in post-Juan Halifax. We have power at my house now, we got it back on Friday afternoon. Now that we have power, our phone is bitching. So if you want to call me, just keep trying. It's works on and off.