A return to the pleasures of chicken balls
Vegetarian Chinese food at Spadina and Dundas -- a whole menu filled with tons of food that I can eat. I can't express how amazing it is to be able to select any item that I desire, without worrying about meat being involved. I haven't had "chicken" balls in 10 years. Incredible.
30 January 2002, 23:01
Not-so-great expectations
I expect too much from people. And this ultimately results in disappointment. For some reason, my first instinct is to trust, to subconsciously expect co-operation, consideration, respect. I expect fairness. I anticipate that people will offer assistance, encouragement, and praise when warranted. I get caught up expecting people to care.
In High School, my English class was presented with a story about the "Iks" -- a nasty tribe of bastards, obviously serving as an allegory for the human condition -- and we were required to write a paper about whether people are primordially bad (Iks) or good (un-Ik-like). Guess which side I chose to refute in my three-paragraph exposition on the human race? I think that I was the only one in the class.
Maybe it's because my parents are kind and generous people. It could be that I have managed to know many respectful, just, and sensitive people as friends. Perhaps I am just naïve. Regardless, I think that I should spend more time researching this, and lowering my expectations.
30 January 2002, 16:01
Joshua, Then and Now
All day I have been listening to U2's The Joshua Tree. Did it have anything to do with the U2 special on MuchMusic last night? Absolutely. "Running to Stand Still" lodged itself in my subconsious, travelled through my dreams, and quietly became the soundtrack to my morning.
My cube neighbours are now also listening to the emotionally-charged, spectacular sounds of The Joshua Tree -- our separate consciousnesses cradled by headphones, collectively remembering 1987 and what it meant to late adolescence and our place in the world.
15 years later, the words feel the same.
29 January 2002, 15:01
Running to stand still
She is raging and the storm blows up in her eyes
She will suffer the needle chill
She is running to stand still
29 January 2002, 09:01
MT and Me
It was a roller-coaster day. Work pretty much sucked. However, to make ourselves feel better, my co-worker and I ran off to the Eaton Centre for an extended lunch and a purchase (for me) of some new and terribly-expensive New Balance running shoes. I came home to a brilliant CD that Trevor had laboured to create for me. He's so creative. Not to mention incredibly thoughtful. I couldn't wait to get on the cross-trainer with all of my new gear.
And then, of course I needed to do a few hours work on my site. Now, I am proud to announce, my published poems and other poems have been completely republished into Movable Type, enabling categorization and comments. MT rocks my world. There are still a few bugs to work out, but that's what keeps my brain happy -- something to solve.
28 January 2002, 22:01
Long walk home
Today we walked around the city for hours. We first started out in pursuit of a new mouse for Trevor and some tidbits for Sarah, but then we just kept walking, soaking in the balmy temperature and the blissful sun. Bathurst. College. Spadina. Bloor. Church. King. Jarvis. Front. Queens Quay. Beautiful and strange street names that I once associated with a planned adventure into the city. Now these streets form the borders of the space that I call home. Tumble-down. Hip and happening. Streetcar-mad. Shop-silly. Cologne-drenched. Architectually-diverse. Book-bound. Tourist-strewn-waterfront. Home.
27 January 2002, 18:01
Beautiful words
Every once in a while I receive an email from someone who has taken the time to write to me about my poems. As I mentioned in a response to a recent note from a peron who enjoyed my work, getting email about my poems is like receiving a postcard from them, from wherever in the world they have managed to travel.
Whenever I read something that moves or haunts or amazes me in some way, I make a point of sending the author a message to alert them to their brilliance. Because I want that person to keep writing and sharing it with the world. Good words are truly hard to find.
So, here are two sites that feaure poetry that has either moved, haunted, or amazed me. Here are some postcards from Toronto:
walrus: bloody gorgeous poetry. His command of language is brilliant; his words are a pleasure to read. Quick, get this man a publishing contract.
tramspark: a new poem (or a dozen) every day. Carefully-crafted, often humourous, sometimes picturesque, exquisitely intelligent.
26 January 2002, 17:01
Just 12 questions
In today's issue of The Creative Strategist, Peter Kaufman was soliciting answers to just 12 questions as part of his research for an upcoming article. Here's my contribution:
1. What book(s) on writing, art, or creativity have been your best resource for inspiration?
poemcrazy: freeing your life through words by Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge
2. What city that have you visited would you consider moving to if the offer were right?
London, UK. Dublin, IE. St John's, NF, Canada.
3. What effect has the economy had on your business?
Lay-offs. Poor employee morale.
4. What is your number-one unfulfilled dream?
Publishing a book.
5. What Web site(s) can't you live without?
MetaFilter, BBC News, siren [places for poets] -- yes, it's my own, but I use my site as a big bookmark file
6. Who was the one person most influential in helping you creatively?
D.M. Thomas (UK author of the White Hotel)
7. What was the worst experience you ever had working in a creative environment? Substitute the name Fred or Freda Smith for the real bastard's name.
Fred and Freda found a way to "lay-off" anyone (regardless of experience or usefulness to the company) who challenged or suggested alternatives to the ideas/plans of upper management.
8. How many people report directly to you?
Sometimes 0. Sometimes 7 (when my boss leaves me in charge).
9. What is the worst experience you've ever had on a job interview?
I was on time at the arranged location for an interview that had already been rescheduled once (by the interviewer). The interviewer not only showed up late and asked me questions in a distracted state, but he ridiculed my present employer as well as my letters of recommendation. After five minutes, he jumped up and told me that he had a prior commitment to attend, and asked if I could come back at another time because he really wanted us to have a chance to chat.
10. If you weren't in your current position, what would you be doing?
Running my own web shop. Freelance writing.
11. What is the one piece of work you are most proud of, and why?
I am most proud of the first piece that I had accepted for publication (Richmond Street) -- it proved to me that I was, indeed, a writer.
12. If you could take a course in any one subject that you've never studied before, what would it be?
Communications. Computer programming.
25 January 2002, 11:01
This side of morning
A perfect and beautiful morning: calm lake, light wind, cool air, warm sun, the melody of black and wite water birds -- all of it tinged with the sadness of a great man passing.
Although I wish that I had known him as other Canadians my age did -- a gentle and distinctly Canadian voice from their childhood -- what I do have in common with Peter Gzowski is this beautiful street, this gorgeous lake.
25 January 2002, 09:01
A girl and her headphones
Everyone has something old that they just don't want to part with -- even me, the purge queen. My security blanket is actually a pair of yellow Panasonic headphones (sans volume control) that came with a "shock resistant" walkman we bought years ago. The sound quality is amazing , and any other walkman headphones or earbuds just don't cut it. Keep in mind that I live with a serious audiophile, so I have sampled many headphones over the years. The earbuds that came with the sparkly new $350 walkman we bought last year were immediately turfed in favour of my precious Panasonics.
Unfortunately, they can no longer take the "shocks" of life: the spongey ear-phones coverings are ripped and saggy, the cords are tangled, and (best of all) every plastic bit is held together with duct tape. Yet, I just can't part with them. Even when I get those sideways glaces at the gym every day.
23 January 2002, 20:01
Antibiotic anarchy
I am one of those millions of people who have a mild heart murmur -- a condition that doesn't bother me at all, but requires to take a whack of precautionary penicillin an hour before a dentist appointment. I despise ingesting those capsules -- all that I can think about is how I am slowly becoming immune to antibiotics.
I have a good friend who was raised in a family that practises homeopathic and alternative approaches to illness. She has never taken penicillin -- for anything, and has lead a healthy life. I think that's amazing -- but it's sad that I think it's amazing. It should be the norm, and not the antibiotic anarchy that is our reality.
23 January 2002, 15:01
If you ever find yourself locked in the trunk of a car
Today's tip: if you are ever locked into the trunk of a car, kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won't see you but everybody else will. (via the woman who works a few cubicles away from my desk).
23 January 2002, 09:01
Sometimes a ski trip is more than just a ski trip
From the Online Ethics Center: "[employer] Favoritism is insidious. It creeps into the workplace and shows itself when we least expect it. It destroys relationships and trusts. It feeds on our initiative. It lives in the shadows and is often perceived by some and not others, even when it is not real."
20 January 2002, 15:01
It's all about passion
Last night I rediscovered the pleasure of an intimate live music performance. A club so small that our table was practically onstage. Comfortable darkness, a few drinks, friends, and rich beautiful sound that swelled inside the room, quivering, until it almost burst. It was the passion in the perfomers (Nikki and Justin, and Gregory and co.), however, that made the experience so enjoyable. There is something so moving, so sensual and overwheming about a person who is so enraptured by their art that they appear to transcend the performance itself. They are creating art completely for themselves and for no one else. That passion onstage can act as a narcotic; a singer or musician's music becomes part of me -- a soundtrack to those minutes of my life -- and it can block out all of the temperamental bar staff, skunky beer, and self-centred nattering patrons who would rather hear themselves talk than listen to the band. I raise my glass to anyone who braves a crowd to share their passion.
20 January 2002, 14:01
*tap tap tap*
Am I back on?
20 January 2002, 10:01
poem snippet
A warning to your haptic heart:
beware the fingers that you seek;
in between the unprotected beats
you are open to the tactile treachery
of arachnid digits that explore
the thrumming surface, but never
rest their tangible tentacles in sleep.
19 January 2002, 19:01
"palpable and mute"
Thanks to Thandi for reminding me of this poem that I first loved at 18:
"A poem should not mean
But be"
Archibald MacLeish
19 January 2002, 14:01
do the web host limbo
From the notes of a site suspended between hosting companies...
"I feel like I have been sucked into the ether and I am floating around in the nebulous nothing-ness of Internet purgatory. I have atoned the sins of DataPeer, and wait for the absolution of CI Host. Please, higher WWW power, let my DNS resolve tonight".
18 January 2002, 20:01
it's a hard habit to break
Thanks to Sandra, right now I am experiencing a 1982 flashback at my desk.
17 January 2002, 11:01
MT poem
I'm proud because Trevor, the love of my life,
has completed his site with Movable Type!
16 January 2002, 18:01
snow-less
It's mid-January and it just won't snow. The sky fills up with bulging dark clouds that gather over the lake, then amble toward the city in a moving charcoal canopy. Pregnant with winter. Even the air smells of snow. The wind whips frozen bits of rain at my coat -- and sometimes, for a moment, it turns to a wild scattering of flakes. But the moment passes quickly. And the snow stays out there: hundreds of metres out in the middle of the lake. Falling contently into a warmer, former version of itself.
16 January 2002, 18:01
temporary (insanity) downtime
Well, I am just about to transfer web hosting companies. I might be down for a little while. Please use my Yahoo email address if you want to send me email this week.
15 January 2002, 16:01
better than blue
My friend at work were discussing how we both love the word "cerulean". The syllables seem to roll inside the mouth, curling over every contour, forming a wave that languishly leaves the lips. It just sounds beautifful. Wanting to make a connection between the audio and the visual, I found a web exhibit Painting Through the Ages -- a site that examines the pigments in paintings thoughout history. Not only did I find cerulean blue, (which, btw is a "very stable and lightfast greenish blue pigment with limited hiding power"), I found out more about the colour blue than I ever imagined.
15 January 2002, 10:01
naked
I want to blog, but again, something naked is vying for my attention. So, while I am watching the Naked Chef, I suggest that you visit the Naked Blog for some enlightening reading or ask the Naked Dancing Llama for an answer to your most perplexing question.
14 January 2002, 21:01
show me the kitchen
I love to cook. Really. One of my top ten places to be (which of course includes sitting in front of the seductive blue glow of my monitor) is in the kitchen. The chopping, the grating, the frying, the baking. If I could find a way to make a living cooking for people all day long I would quit the life of a Web producer in a second. Last Christmas, Trevor's family bought us the perfect frying pan -- one that never sees the dishwasher and it conditioned lovingly after each careful handwash. This past Christmas I bought some of those lovely little glass bowls that cooking-show chefs use to cradle spices and delicately chopped ingredients as they await their turn to be sprinkled into a pot. And *clap clap* one of our Christmas presents this year was a set of new, exquisitely-sharp knives.
Right now, as I am about to embark on the beautiful thing that is brunch, I feel a Padermo-related kinship with Lana in Ottawa, who also adores her shining new pots and pans. Cookware can inspire culinary greatness.
13 January 2002, 09:01
pause
It's a gorgeous sunny day outside. I can't remember the last time that I woke up to a blue sky. Sarah has wedged herself between the blinds and the window, watching the ducks through half-open eyes. The living room explodes every few minutes with Trevor's exclamations of joy and disgust with the Southampton/ManUtd match. My tea is just the right temperarture for sipping. If I didn't feel so content I may just have written a poem this morning.
13 January 2002, 09:01
two movies
The Shipping News: excellent. Gosford Park: so-so.
12 January 2002, 23:01
turn off the lights, please
In the Globe and Mail this morning I read an article on light pollution -- how the lack of a distinct day and night affects our view of the stars as well as the plants, animals, and humans that populate the Earth. All of the unnatural light caused by streetlights, stadiums, offices, apartments, and signs causes a state of never-dark, prevents people from being able to enjoy a perfectly dark sky. Imagine that: most of us cannot see the Milky Way, and of a sky filled with 3500 viewable stars each night, people in my fine city are lucky to behold 50. That's astounding. And horribly sad.
And as usual, animals suffer the most as a result of humans. Marine life often confuses artificially-lit beaches for moonlight and ends up crawling onto sand or highways to their death. Migratory birds smack into office tower windows. Light-following insects become disoriented. Mating rituals are disturbed. Air pollution. Land pollution. Water pollution. Noise pollution. Light pollution. How much longer will we be able to wreck the beautiful world around us?
12 January 2002, 20:01
it's a good thing
And while I am in the blog promotion mood, make sure that you mosey on over to the Beatnik Pad. Neil is the Patrick (but really Martha) Stewart of web wizardry.
10 January 2002, 17:01
keeping it in the family
A warm welcome to my family Wendy, Brian, and Barbara to the wonderful world of blogging.
10 January 2002, 17:01
Aichmophobia
At lunch time today my blood donation was rewarded with irony: with two whispered confessions by nurses whose biggest phobia is getting a needle. Especially donating blood. And here I thought that nurses -- the wielders of the slim shiny blood-suckers -- would be fearless in the face of needles. Well, at least there's comfort in the fact that they don't get weak-kneed or trembly when pinpointing a vein ripe for stabbing.
10 January 2002, 14:01
what happened?
When my friend and I were walking back to work from a late lunch, there was lots of action in our quiet little harbourfront community. Ambulances, EMS, and a fire truck. We found out that while we were gone we missed a helicopter, police cars, and the marine police. And now, a few hours later, when I look out from our apartment window the street and the lake are quiet and dark, the secret of today's events sunk somewhere below the surface.
09 January 2002, 21:01
new year's resolutioners
I can always tell when it's January at my gym. Many new faces. Queues for the treadmill and elliptical trainer. Telltale brilliant white running shoes and vivid spandex all round. I will be glad in a few weeks' time when I won't need to worry about rushing to beat the new 6:00 PM crowds. In February everything will even out again, and the rest of us ratty T-shirted and worn-shoed regulars can nod and grunt in acknowledgement as we pass each other on the way to the water cooler, our domain returned.
08 January 2002, 18:01
comment-less
Have been trying out different blog commenting systems all day with no luck. If anyone would like to help out someone (who should know better) how work a little ASP commenting magic on a cursed NT hosting server, please do so. Serious suggestions to switch to a Unix hosting server are welcomed.
07 January 2002, 22:01
simplicity
In these past few years I've begun to notice how my tastes have consistently migrated toward simplicity. I like space: expansive rooms and wide open fields. I dress in solid colours; the patterns I enjoy occur in nature: the stars, landscapes, etc.. Prefer the scent left on the skin by a shower to a spritz of perfume. And anyone who knows me has probably realised that I was born without the accessorizing gene (sorry Martha); I wear simple jewelry, prefer the beauty of one lovely piece to the distraction of multiple glittery objects. I always wear black boots or shoes. My lipstick colour just feels right; I don't know if it's right for my complexion. And no, I am a fashionless frumpster -- I'm just me. Plain and simple.
06 January 2002, 12:01
words from denmark
Thank you, Tinka from Denmark, for those lovely words.
06 January 2002, 10:01
And if i was King
And if i was King I would ban popcorn (and other crunchables) from movie theatres. We saw A Beautiful Mind this afternoon -- unfortunately in the midst of a packed audience. Throughout the film people all around us were munching and crumpling bags, sharing and slurping, and being generally distracting. Popcorn nachos fries. I don't know how they managed to keep track of the film's progress. The audio was poor to begin with, so all the background racket (also summarizing aloud, giggling, kicking seats) was quite distracting. What I love about films is becoming completely engaged: letting the music and cinematgraphy wash over me and pull me into another world for a few hours. Today's experience reminded me of how difficult that is to do when other patrons' crunching competes with film itself. I've often wondered (in the event that I could summon my spine) if I could ever turn around and ask politely: Could you please just shut up? However, the Etiquette Grrls say that no, it's better just to glare or move. *sigh*
05 January 2002, 20:01
there's one
A friend of mine once announced that whenever you need a hair elastic all you need to do is to look to the ground: there will always be an elastic somewhere lying about. And maybe it's because I live in a densely populated area with a higher potential for freshly-free-flowing, long-locked inhabitants, but at the moment when I think that I would really like to tie my hair back, I look down and there's a hair elastic lying somewhere nearby. Not that I have ever picked one up, of course.
04 January 2002, 16:01
lay off , would ya?
Layoffs began again at work today. I can't even muster the energy to worry about it anymore.
03 January 2002, 17:01
whose body is this?
How is it possible that a paramedic can be suspended from work (without pay) for refusing to have a flu shot? Since when does a person's body belong to their employer?
03 January 2002, 08:01
good customer service?
I've just had a positive customer service experience. I love to buy ecoolsites.net calendars. Not only are they the perfect cubicle-wall size, but the photography is brilliant. I recently bought the Ireland 2002 calendar and the photographs were not up to the usual quality. So today at 12:23 I wrote an email to Shearson Publishing voicing my concern. A few emails went back and forth, and by 3:17, a company representative had written back to me with a full explanation and the offer of an additional calendar at no extra charge. My faith in customer service has been revived.
02 January 2002, 16:01
like ice in a martini glass
It was too beautiful of a day to get depressed about returning to the building where I work. The air was crisp -- not too warm or too cold. A rare day with no wind. Any sheltered or enclosed lake water was glazed with a sparkling paper-thin coating of ice, and when the moored boats moved ever so slightly, the ice fissured and crackled like ice cubes scraping against each other in a martini glass.
So far the day has been calm. Sometimes I have taken a break from coding to watch the clouds edge along the sky, the small planes landing at the airport, and the water birds accumulating in the lake. I hope that I can hang on to this feeling all day.
02 January 2002, 12:01
new year's day
"All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
I want to be with you
Be with you night and day"
-- New Year's Day, U2
Last night was wonderful. Simple. And best of all, I spent some time thinking about New Year's Day, 1987. Trevor and I and some friends had spent the night together celebrating. It was early in the morning, and Trevor had to get home for his Grandfather's funeral. So we all walked with him up Tower Street -- right up the middle of the deserted road. It was a brand new year. It was quiet and perfect and still. And I felt as though my life was trembling on the edge of something momentous.
01 January 2002, 17:01