I have a friend named Sam. He comes around usually in the evenings, after the sun has bled its last drops of light onto an arid cityscape, and he's not very polite. He knocks gently on my door, and sneaks quietly in. Sometimes he's so quiet I don't even notice he's come until he's right next to me. I wish he wouldn't sneak up on me like that, but he doesn't mean to, he's trying not to disturb me.
He curls up between me and the man on the couch. In the middle of our movie, and without knowing, he forces me to lean away, inching progressively closer to the distant arm of the love seat. He whispers in my ear during the movie about how the women are skinnier than me, about how the couples are more romantic than ours, about how the characters in the movie are achieving their dreams and I'm doing nothing resembling this at all. And I tell him to be quiet, but he doesn't listen. The man would tell him to be quiet, but he doesn't really notice Sam until he starts shouting.
Sam watches me while I cook sometimes, and I don't really like it. He finds me when I'm painting sometimes, and I suddenly don't really feel like painting anymore. He's just far too distracting, and keeps me from a lot of the things I love to do. But he's my friend, and I've known him for so long that it's hard to tell him "no." I don't have the strength to ask him to leave. The man sometimes does, but I just can't do it. I've tried.
He's around the most in the winter. He obviously has nowhere else to go, and knows I'll be home, because I don't have anywhere to go either. He sort of takes on a more dominant persona in winter, because he has so much more to talk about, and I can't really run. The summer is better, because I can go out and distract myself with the sun, and the grass, and the trees. I can go to the park, or just go for a walk. Sam usually can't find me when I'm going for a summer walk. I think the sun confuses him, he's not really an outdoor kind of guy.
He always comes along when we visit the man's mother. That woman and Sam get along better than anyone I know, so he always asks to come. He usually shows up at the most peculiar times, when I really don't expect him at all (he never calls first.) I'm usually having a spectacular time, and I fantastic day, finishing a successful work day, starting a beautiful painting. Times when I just don't think company's coming, those are the times he shows up. I always ask him why he needs to come, and he never really knows. He had nowhere else to be.
The time I see him most, however, is just before bed. The evening has just transformed into night, and it's quieter in the world than it has ever been. I'm just slipping into my night gown, listening to the nothingness around me, and the light from a nearby street lamp is beaming in through my window making a single illuminated square on my carpet. And in that moment, when my eyes begin to blur, and my mind begins to wander, I hear that small familiar knock at my door and I know who it is. It's Sam. And I don't know why, but like a robot I let him in. I even let him curl up in bed with me sometimes.
I don't like to have him around. He's cruel, and he steals from me. I find things missing all the time that I could have sworn were there yesterday. He has absolutely no regard for my plans or ideas, for my preferences or personal space. He comes between me and the man, and he comes between me and myself. I would never invite him, and I would never send him to your house either, because he's completely unpleasant and a bother on the life of anyone. Some days, I know, some of his other friends don't even want to get out of bed, for fear that he may show up. I know some nights I'm afraid to go to bed, for fear of that feeling in the morning.
Did I say his name was Sam?
Oh, how silly of me. Sorry, I meant "Sad."
Have you met him?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A Birthday in Pictures
1. Lunch at "Mongo's"
2. Five-Pine Bowling at "St. Vital Bowl"
3. Dinner at "Earl's"
4. Trip to the "Museum of Man & Nature" with family
2. Five-Pine Bowling at "St. Vital Bowl"
3. Dinner at "Earl's"
4. Trip to the "Museum of Man & Nature" with family
It's a small world after all.
The 19th rolled around (1 day before my spectacular champagne birthday) and I waited with bated breath to see what magic there was in store. The man told me far in advance that this was the day he would present his gift to me. I had a few guesses, a few eyes-squinted fists-clenched hopes, and when my eyes did so eagerly open I discovered the most magical gift of all.
DISNEY ON ICE baby!
Two beautiful tickets wrapped ever so delicately in a little red ribbon. I could not believe it! I'd never been to an ice show before! I remember being in grade ?2? and coming to school only to be bombarded with little spinning light-up doodads, delicate colourful programs, the most elaborate tales of princes and princesses finding true love at last (and on ice for that matter, as if love isn't tricky enough) and I remember the wonder of it all. I was so envious! I had no idea what it might be like to see an ice show!
And for my birthday the wonderful man granted me that one childhood wish. What a stud.
I had such a spectacular time, too. We had amazing seats, and could see absolutely everything from them. From the sparkling fairy tale castle at the one end, to the illuminated patterned ice beneath their twinkling skates, all the way up to the falling snow and bubbles from the darkened man-made skies. He bought me a snow cone, that I ate from the top of Stitch's opened head, coloured with rainbow stripes. Little girls with their parents slipped past us in the aisles, adorned with multicoloured princess gowns, a vision in tulle, proudly sporting their golden mickey crowns, their black round ears peaking out through their carefully curled hair. Suddenly, I felt underdressed.
The zamboni drives out onto the ice, and stops in the centre. The driver gets off, confused, as if something is wrong with the ice-mending machine. He kicks the machine's ribs a few times, and circles it. I'm on to him now. He scratches his head in an exaggerated manner, and I'm certain he's a part of the act. The next thing I know my favourite childhood characters are out on the ice attempting to repair the "broken" machine! Goofy is not much help at all.
And the rest is history. I watched the most elaborate choreography as every princess ever to hit the screen got her own moment to shine in the arms of her prince charming, I watched as Aladdin was taken aback when not one but twenty genies emerged from the smokey castle to the tune of "Never Had a Friend Like Me" to prove the genie's ultimate power, Nemo found his father, Belle saved the Beast, Mulan brought honour to her family, Woody discovered true friendship with a spaceman, even Pinocchio learned the value of ones conscience, all narrated by the fabulous duo of Mickey and Minnie. There was even a sequence celebrating the wonder of the world's cultures to the tune of "It's a small world after all" as the instruments and style of the song changed with every new culture. Ack!
It was just all so much. I was nearly driven to tears when Simba and Nala danced ever so gracefully across the ice, ending with a dramatic pose as Simba caught Nala just before hitting the ice, by her arm and back leg, illuminated by a single spotlight in the middle of the ice. Imagine "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" playing with a rhythmic African beat in the background, syncing with your very heartbeat. Breathtaking.
At the very end such joy and wonder bubbled up from inside me when the characters all marched out to wave us goodbye to "Circle of Life." My life will never be the same!
DISNEY ON ICE baby!
Two beautiful tickets wrapped ever so delicately in a little red ribbon. I could not believe it! I'd never been to an ice show before! I remember being in grade ?2? and coming to school only to be bombarded with little spinning light-up doodads, delicate colourful programs, the most elaborate tales of princes and princesses finding true love at last (and on ice for that matter, as if love isn't tricky enough) and I remember the wonder of it all. I was so envious! I had no idea what it might be like to see an ice show!
And for my birthday the wonderful man granted me that one childhood wish. What a stud.
I had such a spectacular time, too. We had amazing seats, and could see absolutely everything from them. From the sparkling fairy tale castle at the one end, to the illuminated patterned ice beneath their twinkling skates, all the way up to the falling snow and bubbles from the darkened man-made skies. He bought me a snow cone, that I ate from the top of Stitch's opened head, coloured with rainbow stripes. Little girls with their parents slipped past us in the aisles, adorned with multicoloured princess gowns, a vision in tulle, proudly sporting their golden mickey crowns, their black round ears peaking out through their carefully curled hair. Suddenly, I felt underdressed.
The zamboni drives out onto the ice, and stops in the centre. The driver gets off, confused, as if something is wrong with the ice-mending machine. He kicks the machine's ribs a few times, and circles it. I'm on to him now. He scratches his head in an exaggerated manner, and I'm certain he's a part of the act. The next thing I know my favourite childhood characters are out on the ice attempting to repair the "broken" machine! Goofy is not much help at all.
And the rest is history. I watched the most elaborate choreography as every princess ever to hit the screen got her own moment to shine in the arms of her prince charming, I watched as Aladdin was taken aback when not one but twenty genies emerged from the smokey castle to the tune of "Never Had a Friend Like Me" to prove the genie's ultimate power, Nemo found his father, Belle saved the Beast, Mulan brought honour to her family, Woody discovered true friendship with a spaceman, even Pinocchio learned the value of ones conscience, all narrated by the fabulous duo of Mickey and Minnie. There was even a sequence celebrating the wonder of the world's cultures to the tune of "It's a small world after all" as the instruments and style of the song changed with every new culture. Ack!
It was just all so much. I was nearly driven to tears when Simba and Nala danced ever so gracefully across the ice, ending with a dramatic pose as Simba caught Nala just before hitting the ice, by her arm and back leg, illuminated by a single spotlight in the middle of the ice. Imagine "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" playing with a rhythmic African beat in the background, syncing with your very heartbeat. Breathtaking.
At the very end such joy and wonder bubbled up from inside me when the characters all marched out to wave us goodbye to "Circle of Life." My life will never be the same!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
My Bloody Valentine
Valentines day!
What a ridiculous holiday, an absolute complete waste of money and time, a consumer's holiday, a candy company's joy, an unnecessary trap set for the single folks the world over, pointing a rude finger of disappointment in their direction, reminding them that they are as alone as ever, and that their lives have absolutely no meaning but to find someone who might share Valentines Day with their pathetic likes next year. That's not to mention the couples on Valentines Day, suddenly finding it essential to treat each other with the same love and respect that they ought every other day of the year, shrouded with disappointment because their significant other did not do it quite the way they were hoping, did not get them quite the sort of chocolates they were expecting, and in some cases, did not care enough to remember. A disgusting February event.
But oh how I do love it.
I look forward to it all through January.
A magical day of absolute romantic exaggeration.
The world needs more of that.
My day began with a delicious home cooked surprise Valentines breakfast from the man, seated neatly at the dining room table, an array of breakfast delights in front of him, presents strewn carefully across the centre of the table. O sweet romantic boy.
He got me a book I've been wanting for a long time from Chapters, and a beautiful, delicate pink rose, just into the stage when a flower begins falling asleep, its petals lightly dusted with the gold of old age, its head beginning to turn toward it's mother earth, its leafy arms no longer outstretched begging for love, but resting, waiting for it. He knows me far too well, what a beautiful flower.
We decided that each and every day was Valentines for us, and that we were so fortunate and so blessed to have one another in our lives, that we wanted to reach out to those who may be having a less than merry time on this Valentines Day. We decided that we didn't need an entire day to ourselves, and that we would give our evening to a greater cause. So we called up a couple of his single friends and had them over for a little Valentines party of our own, because the day is about love, and not just romantic love. It's about love for our families, our children, our friends and neighbours, our teachers, our coworkers, the clerk who asks us if we found everything we were looking for today. And it's the perfect day to remember to show love to those around us in everything we do. So that's what we did.
When they came, I discovered that they had decided exactly the theme of our little party, and that it was to be the opposite of Valentines. Now, when you think what that may be, what's the first thing that comes to mind? Love/Hate. Red/Black. Romance/Ecnamor. Whatever the case may be, I doubt you thought of this one:
Zombies.
Naturally, that's what a couple of single guys think of when they think "the opposite of Valentines." So that's what we did. We played a board game called "Last Night on Earth" where the premise is to kill as many zombies as you can before the sun comes up and the virus spreads to the world. You get to be a character, adorned with particular weapons and abilities, all the while keeping watch on the chart mapping each hour until the sun rises. It actually turned out to be a lot of fun, the game even came with its own soundtrack, adding to the suspense and mood of it all.
We flipped through the pages of "The Zombie Survival Guide" and watched "Shaun of the Dead" and "Quarantine." We also spent some time playing "Dead Rising" on one of the guys' XBOXes. It really turned out to be a lot of fun, and by the end of the evening we were all so zombie'd out that we didn't even get a moment to consider that it was Valentines Day, we were having too much fun in bizarre, incredible fellowship together.
What better way to celebrate a day of love?
Though, I wonder now, if I will forever associate Valentines Day with the flesh eating undead.
Heck, don't we all.
What a ridiculous holiday, an absolute complete waste of money and time, a consumer's holiday, a candy company's joy, an unnecessary trap set for the single folks the world over, pointing a rude finger of disappointment in their direction, reminding them that they are as alone as ever, and that their lives have absolutely no meaning but to find someone who might share Valentines Day with their pathetic likes next year. That's not to mention the couples on Valentines Day, suddenly finding it essential to treat each other with the same love and respect that they ought every other day of the year, shrouded with disappointment because their significant other did not do it quite the way they were hoping, did not get them quite the sort of chocolates they were expecting, and in some cases, did not care enough to remember. A disgusting February event.
But oh how I do love it.
I look forward to it all through January.
A magical day of absolute romantic exaggeration.
The world needs more of that.
My day began with a delicious home cooked surprise Valentines breakfast from the man, seated neatly at the dining room table, an array of breakfast delights in front of him, presents strewn carefully across the centre of the table. O sweet romantic boy.
He got me a book I've been wanting for a long time from Chapters, and a beautiful, delicate pink rose, just into the stage when a flower begins falling asleep, its petals lightly dusted with the gold of old age, its head beginning to turn toward it's mother earth, its leafy arms no longer outstretched begging for love, but resting, waiting for it. He knows me far too well, what a beautiful flower.
We decided that each and every day was Valentines for us, and that we were so fortunate and so blessed to have one another in our lives, that we wanted to reach out to those who may be having a less than merry time on this Valentines Day. We decided that we didn't need an entire day to ourselves, and that we would give our evening to a greater cause. So we called up a couple of his single friends and had them over for a little Valentines party of our own, because the day is about love, and not just romantic love. It's about love for our families, our children, our friends and neighbours, our teachers, our coworkers, the clerk who asks us if we found everything we were looking for today. And it's the perfect day to remember to show love to those around us in everything we do. So that's what we did.
When they came, I discovered that they had decided exactly the theme of our little party, and that it was to be the opposite of Valentines. Now, when you think what that may be, what's the first thing that comes to mind? Love/Hate. Red/Black. Romance/Ecnamor. Whatever the case may be, I doubt you thought of this one:
Zombies.
Naturally, that's what a couple of single guys think of when they think "the opposite of Valentines." So that's what we did. We played a board game called "Last Night on Earth" where the premise is to kill as many zombies as you can before the sun comes up and the virus spreads to the world. You get to be a character, adorned with particular weapons and abilities, all the while keeping watch on the chart mapping each hour until the sun rises. It actually turned out to be a lot of fun, the game even came with its own soundtrack, adding to the suspense and mood of it all.
We flipped through the pages of "The Zombie Survival Guide" and watched "Shaun of the Dead" and "Quarantine." We also spent some time playing "Dead Rising" on one of the guys' XBOXes. It really turned out to be a lot of fun, and by the end of the evening we were all so zombie'd out that we didn't even get a moment to consider that it was Valentines Day, we were having too much fun in bizarre, incredible fellowship together.
What better way to celebrate a day of love?
Though, I wonder now, if I will forever associate Valentines Day with the flesh eating undead.
Heck, don't we all.
February DIY
I have a weird thing about being able to see the spines of my dvd's, and the thing is this: I don't like it. I don't like being bombarded with an overwhelming array of colours every time I look in the direction of my tv, and I decided I wasn't going to have it anymore. It's bad energy, it's exposure to a stressful element, and I want to simplify. So, I bought a hutch.
A beautiful hutch, dark "espresso" wood, with glass panes. That was the only problem, however. Though they were slightly more hidden, I could still see them menacingly peeking out at me through the glass. Solution? Haha, feels like DIY time in Holly World! (Hollywood?)
The first step, of course, was to find something to put behind the glass. I played with the idea of some gold paper, maybe some tissue paper, something from wood or bamboo perhaps, but nothing really seemed to work, or seemed very reversible in the long run. Then it came to me: fabric! So, I went out and found something really beautiful, for only $5/meter!
So, solved right? No, not quite. Too plain, just didn't seem to really be a show stopper. What else could I do? I decided to paint the glass before putting the fabric on it, to add some real character, some real detail. I went online to find the perfect silhouette, and found something I really thought would bring out the theme I was trying to accomplish: cherry blossoms!
So I delicately painted the image onto the glass, and placed the glass in the empty holes. Then, carefully cut the green fabric and ended up adhering it with double sided tape, which has held up pretty well so far! The final result, I thought, was absolutely breathtaking, and achieved my ultimate goal. I ended up replacing the stress with something soothing. I'm so glad I did it.
A beautiful hutch, dark "espresso" wood, with glass panes. That was the only problem, however. Though they were slightly more hidden, I could still see them menacingly peeking out at me through the glass. Solution? Haha, feels like DIY time in Holly World! (Hollywood?)
The first step, of course, was to find something to put behind the glass. I played with the idea of some gold paper, maybe some tissue paper, something from wood or bamboo perhaps, but nothing really seemed to work, or seemed very reversible in the long run. Then it came to me: fabric! So, I went out and found something really beautiful, for only $5/meter!
So, solved right? No, not quite. Too plain, just didn't seem to really be a show stopper. What else could I do? I decided to paint the glass before putting the fabric on it, to add some real character, some real detail. I went online to find the perfect silhouette, and found something I really thought would bring out the theme I was trying to accomplish: cherry blossoms!
So I delicately painted the image onto the glass, and placed the glass in the empty holes. Then, carefully cut the green fabric and ended up adhering it with double sided tape, which has held up pretty well so far! The final result, I thought, was absolutely breathtaking, and achieved my ultimate goal. I ended up replacing the stress with something soothing. I'm so glad I did it.
Move Over, Beethoven!
The move is finished! We've unpacked the final box, and I just want to jump for joy into the air and sail away into the stars! The whole ordeal has ended and I never have to worry about any of it every again, at least for a few years.
I've settled in, and everything is exactly the way it ought to be. I only wish I could have company over each and every day, and serve them tea and baked goods, chat about life and the blessings that overwhelm us each and every day. Then we can mosey down to the sunken living room and relax in the papasan chair, with the shimmering Indian pillows, the widdled tree-trunk baskets, the jovial elephants and regal gold vases. We'll travel to another land together, while we sip our tea and munch on our gooey cinnamon buns, exploring the sweet spicy aromas and revelling in the sparkle of the environment blanketing us in its warmth.
Don't you want to visit?
Because I would love to have you!
I've settled in, and everything is exactly the way it ought to be. I only wish I could have company over each and every day, and serve them tea and baked goods, chat about life and the blessings that overwhelm us each and every day. Then we can mosey down to the sunken living room and relax in the papasan chair, with the shimmering Indian pillows, the widdled tree-trunk baskets, the jovial elephants and regal gold vases. We'll travel to another land together, while we sip our tea and munch on our gooey cinnamon buns, exploring the sweet spicy aromas and revelling in the sparkle of the environment blanketing us in its warmth.
Don't you want to visit?
Because I would love to have you!
Hardy Holds My Memories
I fell in love with an elephant the other day. I was in the store, looking for some new home decor for the new apartment and I discovered him behind some vases, beneath some old rugs. He looked old, and neglected. His eyes begged me to lift him out of his cave, so I leaned in to dig him out. As I knelt to get a better look he whispered to me, "My name's Hardy, and I'll earn my keep if you give me a chance." Against my better judgment (because we all know how dependable an elephant house guest can be) I decided to take him home and give him a chance, nobody else had.
He sits on top of my entertainment unit now, and my photo albums lean against him. Each day, he smiles at me, devotedly supporting my memories, my hopes, my dreams. Never a complaint escapes his tarnished trunk, because he is grateful for each and every day that he may lift my life upon his shoulders. I think we all need more friends like Hardy.
He sits on top of my entertainment unit now, and my photo albums lean against him. Each day, he smiles at me, devotedly supporting my memories, my hopes, my dreams. Never a complaint escapes his tarnished trunk, because he is grateful for each and every day that he may lift my life upon his shoulders. I think we all need more friends like Hardy.
That's All, Forks
So, the man and I decided that we don't do enough exciting things so we decided to embark on a Forks Adventure. We took a camera along, and wanted to capture the absolute magic of The Forks on film. We hardly achieved our ultimate goal, but we had an absolute blast.
We rode the glass elevator, we bought cotton candy, we gave money to a Jamaican busker, and stared longingly at homemade fudge. If I were richer I think I would purchase all of my clothes there, I'd be a vision in cultural boho. How envious I am of people living in the artsy parts of the city, if only I had the nerve. I don't, however, I can hardly spend a night in my little south city apartment. If I were down on Osborne for a night, I may hyperventilate and pass out, thus my hesitation toward living there. The apartments, though, have a lot more character, and the music, the people, the energy, is so much more alive during the day. But like I said, an area that thrives during the day, does equally as much a'slither in the darkest hours of the night.
Unfortunately, however, one of my favourite pictures of the day turned out to be not of the Forks at all, but actually of the inside of the man's car. It isn't anything special, but I sorta like it.
I also managed to capture us at the top of the glass elevator, in front of our beautiful city.
Please enjoy a taste of the performance we got in the food court. I didn't get his name, but he's performing Bob Marley's "No Woman No Cry." Got that right, buddy.
We rode the glass elevator, we bought cotton candy, we gave money to a Jamaican busker, and stared longingly at homemade fudge. If I were richer I think I would purchase all of my clothes there, I'd be a vision in cultural boho. How envious I am of people living in the artsy parts of the city, if only I had the nerve. I don't, however, I can hardly spend a night in my little south city apartment. If I were down on Osborne for a night, I may hyperventilate and pass out, thus my hesitation toward living there. The apartments, though, have a lot more character, and the music, the people, the energy, is so much more alive during the day. But like I said, an area that thrives during the day, does equally as much a'slither in the darkest hours of the night.
Unfortunately, however, one of my favourite pictures of the day turned out to be not of the Forks at all, but actually of the inside of the man's car. It isn't anything special, but I sorta like it.
I also managed to capture us at the top of the glass elevator, in front of our beautiful city.
Please enjoy a taste of the performance we got in the food court. I didn't get his name, but he's performing Bob Marley's "No Woman No Cry." Got that right, buddy.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
I came, I moved, I conquered
The internet has yet to be returned to me, I'm borrowing some airtime from the home-nest right now so that I can make one small desperate attempt to contact the outside world. I have so much to say, and so little time, so little space!
I have moved! I have moved and I couldn't be more pleased with my spectacular new apartment! I have a home, a home! Praise God almighty, I have a home and I am living the dream, people. The dream!
A side note, I have never been more tired in my life. I. Am. So. Exhausted. I'm going to have to nominate moving as the most draining life experience. And to add to my fatigue, I have had to work five shifts in the time frame of moving, so it's like, movemovemove, go to work, workworkwork, come home, movemovemove, sleep. That's what my days have looked like for the past week, and I am going cray-azy.
But my apartment is all I remembered it and more.
New perks discovered!
1. The most character I've ever seen in a front door. It's light blue, with gold/yellow framing and different shades of blue in the centers. A gold doorknob, and a gold door knocker. Pretty quaint.
2. A really interesting security system! All we have to do is change our tv channel to a specified one, and we can see what's going on at the front door of the building. Whoa-hoa! Can you say high-tech? :S tehe
3. A garbage chute in the building! A real live garbage chute, just like on Friends! I can't wait to jam it, and call the "super" !
4. Parking space in the front of the building, for easier front door access and easier grocery carry-age. Aaah, oh blissful world.
I don't have the pictures I wish I had. I want to post a picture of my door, a picture of my new art room, a picture of my beautiful enclosed balcony. But, lo and behold, I have been moving. Quelle suprise'.
Let me take you through the adventure that has been moving, day by day. Each day had its stresses, but it seems through it all each day has also offered its own little beautiful relief. Little blessings from God to keep me sane through it all.
-
Day 1
Up and at 'em at 7 in the morning. I, unfortunately have to work. The man drops me off at work, and picks up a large friend to come out to help him move some stuff from his mum's place. He moves all day, and the unbelievable 70 mph wind is not helpful in getting a tarp onto a trailor. He comes back to the city to pick me up from work. We pick up another large friend and the four of us head back to the old apartment to build up our strengths for the day to come. The real moving day. We spend the evening talking, and drinking coke, while reading from "The Book of If" which just so happens to be an excellent conversation starter.
Day 2
Up again at 8, showered and ready for the day. The man and I head over to the new apartment at 10 and inspect the apartment for damage. The building manager says, "Let me know what you find, and then I'll let you know what I've found." So now we're being tested on our apartment inspecting skills. We're especially thorough. We find nothing of note. Building Manager George shows us a yellow stain on the carpet in room #2, shows us that one of the stairs is broken, tells us that the smoke detector is broken, says the carpets haven't been shampooed. Do we want them to be shampooed? For free? Heck yes! "Hopefully we'll have them in here by tomorrow at 4." Great, but we now know we can't move any furniture onto any area that's carpeted. We're limited to kitchen, hallway, and entrance. Haha, good luck fitting it all there. We head back to the old apartment and pack up as much as we can, since we lacked the forethought to do any packing the week before. A load goes to the apartment. Another. Another. Matt's family comes and delivers the truckload from home. Gigantic furniture. I don't help much. Matt's mom comes in with much needed Pizza Hut pizzas. 12 of them. We eat 6. We have a spectacular time laughing and eating pizza together in the kitchen on the loveseat that really ought to be in the living room, we reflect on the day. We drop off everyone and its just the two of us again. We do a couple more loads. We toss a mattress on the floor in the middle of the living room and set up a tv and dvd player. We watch the first minute of a movie and fall asleep.
Day 3
Up early to haul some ass. We head over to the old apartment and do some more loads. We're really tired. We pack up as much as we can at the old place and bring it back to the new place. We can't unpack anything because we still can't put anything on the carpets. The man drops me off at work and I work until 10 while he chills at a buddy's place watching movies. Ahem. He picks me up and we do one more load. We do our best to get it all inside in one car-to-room trip and are absolutely unsuccessful, it takes us three. We fumble with the keys and the door, I drop my cellphone far too many times in the snow, we finally get inside and collapse on the carpet. The carpet. The unshampooed carpet. Hmm. "George, what's going on?" Hopefully they'll come tomorrow, they couldn't come today. Darn. Little angry, but too tired to maintain. Put the mattress down again in the living room, re-setup the tv and dvd player. Lay on the mattress facing the living room window and discover that the moon is framed perfectly in the right pane of the window. We bask in the silence, in the beautiful glowing moonlight, no other light spoiling our moment. The moonlight reflects us, one shining spot in the centre of an ocean of emptiness and black, us in the centre of the empty living room, blackness, emptiness, silence. Beautiful. "I wouldn't want anyone by my side right now but you." "I love you, too." Fast asleep.
Day 4
Rise and shine. Absolutely sick to death of leftover pizza, have no other food to eat in the house. We go out for breakfast, at Smitty's. Have a very affordable, relaxing breakfast. Our chocolate milks cost almost as much as our breakfast specials. Recieve a questionable look from a waitress and realize that I have yet to wash my hair. Yikes. Go shopping for food and buy as much instant food as we can, as well as toilet paper which we have somehow survived without until now (Kleenex.) Do another load (Yes! Another!) and spend some time at the new apartment until I have go to work. Again. I work until 10:30 and the man comes to pick me up again. Grab some more stuff from the old apartment and head back. Can't wait to move the furniture into the living room. Get home and they still aren't clean. "Be a man, make it happen!" "I'm sure he's trying his best..." Gah. I guess I'm going to have to phone. "Hopefully they'll be done tomorrow, they couldn't come today." Hopefully. Hopfully hopefully hopefully. I'm angry. Too tired to maintain. The man tells me I look beautiful when I'm angry, makes me angrier. Tells me I look beautiful all the time, redeems himself. I heat up a piece of pizza, eat half and collapse asleep once more.
Day 5
Ready for some miniature-boxed-cereal. Enjoy some while watching some episodes from a season of Degrassi with the man by my side. We set up his bedroom suite and unpack some of his clothes. We start setting up the kitchen around the ridiculous boxes, loveseat, coffee table... Too tired to do another load. We meander the day away, stop at London Drugs to look at a table and chairs, buy a Brita water pitcher. I have to head off to work at 3:30. I finish at 10 and the man gets me, we stop at the old apartment to pick up all of our food and remaining kitchen supplies. We get back to the apartment and do the same fumbling dance all the way to the door. I get inside and in my exhaustion I drop the wrong bag on the hard floor and hear a loud crack followed by a very steady stream of vinegarry aromatic pickle juice. I frantically lift the still-legless love seat to protect it from the imminent ocean heading toward it, don't save it in time and have pickled the love seat. Holler a little too loud at the man to get me a towel, he comes with a hand towel, unaware that we've got a real flood on our hands. Hurries back and grabs a full size bath towel and we somehow manage to absorb most of it, despite our unfortunate sofa. The entire apartment smells like pickles, as well as half my pants, and both of our hands. We do one more load and the apartment smells more like pickles than ever. We throw the towels in the shower and flee to a bedroom, shutting the door behind us, hoping that the scent hasn't reach there yet. We're safe. I head out to the bathroom and realize that the carpets have still not been shampooed. GEORGE! We head to bed, furious, and laughing at our pickling mishap.
Day 6
Up at 10 and staying in bed, darnit! Have another mini box of cereal straight out of the box and watch the first half of "The Bourne Identity." There's a knock at the door and the Hallelujah chorus rings true as the carpet cleaners have shown up, sing praises all ye people of the world! They take half an hour and are out. The carpets will take 6 hours to dry. Fine by me! We unpack some more of the kitchen. The man has to go to school for awhile so I unpack all of my clothes to the tune of CCR and greet him when he returns. He head out to pick up two large friends to help us move our furniture out of the kitchen and into the living room and bedroom #2. We stop at Taco Bell and have a very unhealthy meal with them. We go to Zellers to look at furniture, find none of what we need but buy a rug for our entrance. Head back to the new place and move furniture onto the almost-completely-dry carpets. Hang out for a while in our spectacular living room. Go to Wal Mart and buy a lot of much needed household supplies, as well as a beautiful hutch for our DVDs. Find a workbench for my art space for only $30, buy in a heartbeat. Somehow fit hutch, workbench, garbage can, shoe rack, and two big boys in back seat. Magic? Drop boys off and move all furniture into new apartment on our own. Begin assembling workbench at 1:00am, get banging on the wall from neighbours for being too loud, call it a night and crash.
Day 7
Up at 10 again, overjoyed at my stupendous nights sleep. The man has finished assembling my workbench while I slept and it looks beautiful. We move it into the art room. He takes the very difficult closet doors off in the room (which turn out to be very VERY difficult since they're sliding doors with a track on the top AND the bottom) and we move a dresser into the closet. The man begins assembling the hutch in the living room and there's a knock at the door. Someone's here to fix the broken step, hooray! I watch a movie with the background noise of a drill from the man and a hammer from the repairman. He finishes and the step is better than ever, he is very friendly and waves us goodbye as he heads out the door. The man finishes the hutch and I start putting DVD's into it, decide that my movies can go in front and his can go behind mine, he doesn't like that idea. I have to go to work once more, and after work we head out to the hometown for some much needed R&R!
-
So that's the move! Very long, yes, but you must understand, I haven't been able to blog day by day so I've had to do it all at once. Apologies, pace yourself if you'd like! You don't have to read it all at once! I should have internet again by wednesday, so hopefully I'll be able to post as of then.
It really has been something else. And, the crazy thing is, is that we still have ONE MORE LOAD to do! We're still not completely moved out! I can not believe it. You know you've got too much stuff when you've got boxes labled "Things I never use."
But, at the end of the day, when we were getting ready to leave for the weekend, I realized something that I haven't felt for such a long time and its that I was actually going to miss it, miss our beautiful apartment, our beautiful home. And as I switched off the light I looked at the blessed space and whispered goodbye, knowing that I couldn't wait to return to this blissful haven, this magical wonderland, this home.
See you soon.
I have moved! I have moved and I couldn't be more pleased with my spectacular new apartment! I have a home, a home! Praise God almighty, I have a home and I am living the dream, people. The dream!
A side note, I have never been more tired in my life. I. Am. So. Exhausted. I'm going to have to nominate moving as the most draining life experience. And to add to my fatigue, I have had to work five shifts in the time frame of moving, so it's like, movemovemove, go to work, workworkwork, come home, movemovemove, sleep. That's what my days have looked like for the past week, and I am going cray-azy.
But my apartment is all I remembered it and more.
New perks discovered!
1. The most character I've ever seen in a front door. It's light blue, with gold/yellow framing and different shades of blue in the centers. A gold doorknob, and a gold door knocker. Pretty quaint.
2. A really interesting security system! All we have to do is change our tv channel to a specified one, and we can see what's going on at the front door of the building. Whoa-hoa! Can you say high-tech? :S tehe
3. A garbage chute in the building! A real live garbage chute, just like on Friends! I can't wait to jam it, and call the "super" !
4. Parking space in the front of the building, for easier front door access and easier grocery carry-age. Aaah, oh blissful world.
I don't have the pictures I wish I had. I want to post a picture of my door, a picture of my new art room, a picture of my beautiful enclosed balcony. But, lo and behold, I have been moving. Quelle suprise'.
Let me take you through the adventure that has been moving, day by day. Each day had its stresses, but it seems through it all each day has also offered its own little beautiful relief. Little blessings from God to keep me sane through it all.
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Day 1
Up and at 'em at 7 in the morning. I, unfortunately have to work. The man drops me off at work, and picks up a large friend to come out to help him move some stuff from his mum's place. He moves all day, and the unbelievable 70 mph wind is not helpful in getting a tarp onto a trailor. He comes back to the city to pick me up from work. We pick up another large friend and the four of us head back to the old apartment to build up our strengths for the day to come. The real moving day. We spend the evening talking, and drinking coke, while reading from "The Book of If" which just so happens to be an excellent conversation starter.
Day 2
Up again at 8, showered and ready for the day. The man and I head over to the new apartment at 10 and inspect the apartment for damage. The building manager says, "Let me know what you find, and then I'll let you know what I've found." So now we're being tested on our apartment inspecting skills. We're especially thorough. We find nothing of note. Building Manager George shows us a yellow stain on the carpet in room #2, shows us that one of the stairs is broken, tells us that the smoke detector is broken, says the carpets haven't been shampooed. Do we want them to be shampooed? For free? Heck yes! "Hopefully we'll have them in here by tomorrow at 4." Great, but we now know we can't move any furniture onto any area that's carpeted. We're limited to kitchen, hallway, and entrance. Haha, good luck fitting it all there. We head back to the old apartment and pack up as much as we can, since we lacked the forethought to do any packing the week before. A load goes to the apartment. Another. Another. Matt's family comes and delivers the truckload from home. Gigantic furniture. I don't help much. Matt's mom comes in with much needed Pizza Hut pizzas. 12 of them. We eat 6. We have a spectacular time laughing and eating pizza together in the kitchen on the loveseat that really ought to be in the living room, we reflect on the day. We drop off everyone and its just the two of us again. We do a couple more loads. We toss a mattress on the floor in the middle of the living room and set up a tv and dvd player. We watch the first minute of a movie and fall asleep.
Day 3
Up early to haul some ass. We head over to the old apartment and do some more loads. We're really tired. We pack up as much as we can at the old place and bring it back to the new place. We can't unpack anything because we still can't put anything on the carpets. The man drops me off at work and I work until 10 while he chills at a buddy's place watching movies. Ahem. He picks me up and we do one more load. We do our best to get it all inside in one car-to-room trip and are absolutely unsuccessful, it takes us three. We fumble with the keys and the door, I drop my cellphone far too many times in the snow, we finally get inside and collapse on the carpet. The carpet. The unshampooed carpet. Hmm. "George, what's going on?" Hopefully they'll come tomorrow, they couldn't come today. Darn. Little angry, but too tired to maintain. Put the mattress down again in the living room, re-setup the tv and dvd player. Lay on the mattress facing the living room window and discover that the moon is framed perfectly in the right pane of the window. We bask in the silence, in the beautiful glowing moonlight, no other light spoiling our moment. The moonlight reflects us, one shining spot in the centre of an ocean of emptiness and black, us in the centre of the empty living room, blackness, emptiness, silence. Beautiful. "I wouldn't want anyone by my side right now but you." "I love you, too." Fast asleep.
Day 4
Rise and shine. Absolutely sick to death of leftover pizza, have no other food to eat in the house. We go out for breakfast, at Smitty's. Have a very affordable, relaxing breakfast. Our chocolate milks cost almost as much as our breakfast specials. Recieve a questionable look from a waitress and realize that I have yet to wash my hair. Yikes. Go shopping for food and buy as much instant food as we can, as well as toilet paper which we have somehow survived without until now (Kleenex.) Do another load (Yes! Another!) and spend some time at the new apartment until I have go to work. Again. I work until 10:30 and the man comes to pick me up again. Grab some more stuff from the old apartment and head back. Can't wait to move the furniture into the living room. Get home and they still aren't clean. "Be a man, make it happen!" "I'm sure he's trying his best..." Gah. I guess I'm going to have to phone. "Hopefully they'll be done tomorrow, they couldn't come today." Hopefully. Hopfully hopefully hopefully. I'm angry. Too tired to maintain. The man tells me I look beautiful when I'm angry, makes me angrier. Tells me I look beautiful all the time, redeems himself. I heat up a piece of pizza, eat half and collapse asleep once more.
Day 5
Ready for some miniature-boxed-cereal. Enjoy some while watching some episodes from a season of Degrassi with the man by my side. We set up his bedroom suite and unpack some of his clothes. We start setting up the kitchen around the ridiculous boxes, loveseat, coffee table... Too tired to do another load. We meander the day away, stop at London Drugs to look at a table and chairs, buy a Brita water pitcher. I have to head off to work at 3:30. I finish at 10 and the man gets me, we stop at the old apartment to pick up all of our food and remaining kitchen supplies. We get back to the apartment and do the same fumbling dance all the way to the door. I get inside and in my exhaustion I drop the wrong bag on the hard floor and hear a loud crack followed by a very steady stream of vinegarry aromatic pickle juice. I frantically lift the still-legless love seat to protect it from the imminent ocean heading toward it, don't save it in time and have pickled the love seat. Holler a little too loud at the man to get me a towel, he comes with a hand towel, unaware that we've got a real flood on our hands. Hurries back and grabs a full size bath towel and we somehow manage to absorb most of it, despite our unfortunate sofa. The entire apartment smells like pickles, as well as half my pants, and both of our hands. We do one more load and the apartment smells more like pickles than ever. We throw the towels in the shower and flee to a bedroom, shutting the door behind us, hoping that the scent hasn't reach there yet. We're safe. I head out to the bathroom and realize that the carpets have still not been shampooed. GEORGE! We head to bed, furious, and laughing at our pickling mishap.
Day 6
Up at 10 and staying in bed, darnit! Have another mini box of cereal straight out of the box and watch the first half of "The Bourne Identity." There's a knock at the door and the Hallelujah chorus rings true as the carpet cleaners have shown up, sing praises all ye people of the world! They take half an hour and are out. The carpets will take 6 hours to dry. Fine by me! We unpack some more of the kitchen. The man has to go to school for awhile so I unpack all of my clothes to the tune of CCR and greet him when he returns. He head out to pick up two large friends to help us move our furniture out of the kitchen and into the living room and bedroom #2. We stop at Taco Bell and have a very unhealthy meal with them. We go to Zellers to look at furniture, find none of what we need but buy a rug for our entrance. Head back to the new place and move furniture onto the almost-completely-dry carpets. Hang out for a while in our spectacular living room. Go to Wal Mart and buy a lot of much needed household supplies, as well as a beautiful hutch for our DVDs. Find a workbench for my art space for only $30, buy in a heartbeat. Somehow fit hutch, workbench, garbage can, shoe rack, and two big boys in back seat. Magic? Drop boys off and move all furniture into new apartment on our own. Begin assembling workbench at 1:00am, get banging on the wall from neighbours for being too loud, call it a night and crash.
Day 7
Up at 10 again, overjoyed at my stupendous nights sleep. The man has finished assembling my workbench while I slept and it looks beautiful. We move it into the art room. He takes the very difficult closet doors off in the room (which turn out to be very VERY difficult since they're sliding doors with a track on the top AND the bottom) and we move a dresser into the closet. The man begins assembling the hutch in the living room and there's a knock at the door. Someone's here to fix the broken step, hooray! I watch a movie with the background noise of a drill from the man and a hammer from the repairman. He finishes and the step is better than ever, he is very friendly and waves us goodbye as he heads out the door. The man finishes the hutch and I start putting DVD's into it, decide that my movies can go in front and his can go behind mine, he doesn't like that idea. I have to go to work once more, and after work we head out to the hometown for some much needed R&R!
-
So that's the move! Very long, yes, but you must understand, I haven't been able to blog day by day so I've had to do it all at once. Apologies, pace yourself if you'd like! You don't have to read it all at once! I should have internet again by wednesday, so hopefully I'll be able to post as of then.
It really has been something else. And, the crazy thing is, is that we still have ONE MORE LOAD to do! We're still not completely moved out! I can not believe it. You know you've got too much stuff when you've got boxes labled "Things I never use."
But, at the end of the day, when we were getting ready to leave for the weekend, I realized something that I haven't felt for such a long time and its that I was actually going to miss it, miss our beautiful apartment, our beautiful home. And as I switched off the light I looked at the blessed space and whispered goodbye, knowing that I couldn't wait to return to this blissful haven, this magical wonderland, this home.
See you soon.
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