a friday at home

today was my day off. i was very much looking forward to a big, fat, do-nothing day because my last two days off were occupied with a video shoot and a string of appointments, respectively. i even thought about maybe taking bernard out for a photo promenade this afternoon.

when i woke up this morning, it was very hazy and humid outside. not especially pretty and rather grey, and not really photo-friendly. ah well.

as much as i thought pyjamas should be the order of the day, i got dressed. a package – my first birthday gift of 2011! – from one of my faraway friends was to be delivered today, so i wanted to make sure i was at least halfway presentable when it arrived.

i opted to spend the day editing more video. i've now finished 13 promos. 17, if you include the ones that didn't make the cut. it's been tiring and, occasionally, frustrating (0.1s of footage can make or break a clip), but satisfying. and i think i'm done.

so, i passed the hours doing that.

i also wrote a review for The Art of Getting By, a terrible movie i saw earlier this week.

i ate leftover cookies and cake.

i ate leftover spaghetti and made garlic bread.

i chatted with mom on the phone.

and then, at 6pm, my gift arrived. :-D

i affectionately refer to it as "a forest in a box" because, as you see, it's a box. a very pretty box. and it's handcrafted from all different kinds of wood. thanks to its pre-arrival clues, i know at least some of it is made from cherry, white oak and mahogany.

ergo: a forest.

and i'm very grateful to lou for sending it to me.

say, have you checked out...

my photo blog recently?

hey asshat, mind your own effing business!

i’m at my desk at the office, on lunch, having just returned from the compound cafeteria.

i’d gone down to pick up something to eat – i wasn’t especially hungry, and had just finished a mammoth apple, so i was looking for something fairly small-ish. like a bowl of soup and a bagel, or perhaps one of the side dishes always on offer with the array of main courses.

craving something savoury, i decided to get a side order of rosemary-mustard seed potatoes. they looked good, they’d be perfectly salty and a clamshell container full of them would fit my bill.

i walked up to the counter and the friendly guy behind it greeted me. i placed my order, and he set about scooping seven or eight whole mini potatoes into my container. (the cost? $1.)

as he did so, a clearly un-busy older cook, who mans the adjacent grill, wandered over to stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

he looked at my container of potatoes, and then at me, and then said, “someone’s on a diet.”

his tone wasn’t particularly jovial, though i suspect he thought himself quite funny. i quickly replied that no, they were just to supplement the lunch i already had upstairs, but it wasn’t until i was walking away that it hit me how completely out of line his comment was.

“someone’s on a diet”?

wait. what?

WTF?

i don’t know this man, he doesn’t know me. he doesn’t know what my situation might be or if i have an eating disorder or if i really am on a diet or if there might be any extenuating reason i would interpret his comment as meaning i’m fat.

his job is to serve me food, not comment on what i’m eating or not eating. had i been overweight, would he have suggested i perhaps not order carbs? or told me to “slow down there, hon!”?

honestly.

by the time i got back to my floor, i considered going back down to confront him over his ignorant remark. but by then the moment had passed, the asshat was back to flipping burgers and my potatoes were getting cold.

that said, if it happens again, you can bet he’ll get a less-than-amused retort from yours truly.

ladies who pee

over the past seven weeks, at the office where i work, i've observed a rather bizarre phenomenon: two young women who, it seems, are incapable of peeing alone.

they both look like they're probably in their early 20s, and neither one is never, ever in the women's washroom by herself. each is always with the other.

they come in together, pee in adjacent stalls (chatting all the while), and then leave together.

each time i see them i think, "there they are AGAIN!" it's gotten to the point that i recognize their voices from down the hall, before i even enter the washroom, and i think to myself, "i wonder if they're both in there."

and, inevitably, they are.

everything within me wants to find out what the story is, and why they must seemingly pee in tandem. but, for now, encountering them has become like a game -- i want to see how many more times in a row i can find them together.

i think i might actually be disappointed if i wandered in and found one of them by herself at the sinks.

the weekend: in food and frivolity

* i spent the weekend in the 'burbs. i had two key tasks i needed to complete before this afternoon: 1) i had to wash my bedroom curtains, which are navy blue and thick and had developed an unappealing layer of dust; and 2) bake a batch of cookies to take to my meditation group's summer party this coming thursday. i needed to perform both tasks chez my parents because: 1) they have a washing machine and an iron and a surface large enough to facilitate the ironing of drapes; and 2) i wanted mom's supervision while i tackled a new kind of cookie.

* i am delighted to report that the curtains were washed, ironed and are now hanging back up in my bedroom. and the cookies – raspberry thumbprints, half the batch coated in ground pecans, the other half coated in coconut – turned out wonderfully.

* while making the new cookies (which mom has made before, but i'd never made myself), she taught me how to separate an egg. :-)

* speaking of eggs, we had breakfast – bacon and eggs – for dinner on saturday. i enjoy bacon when it's really well-done. i.e., so crispy it's brittle. i can't take the texture of chewy bacon. :-X (i don't think i need to tell you mom always mine extra-crispy.)

* for dessert, i made everyone toaster-oven s'mores. mom had purchased fresh marshmallows and two large bars of lindt milk chocolate, so the resulting s'mores were deliciousssssss.

* instead of watching TV last night, mom, YB (who also came to our parents' house for a sleepover) and i just sat in the front living room and chatted for several hours. it was very nice.

* during said conversation, trix told me she's asking her boss for the day off on my birthday so she can spend the day with mom and me. AND she said she's also keeping the next day (a saturday) free in case i want to do anything else. i thought this, too, was very nice, and i look forward to a fun day out. (fingers crossed her boss, who's pretty great, says yes.)

* it was nice to go to sleep last night and not worry that anyone was going to set the house on fire.

* this morning, YB and i got an early start on what was to be a fairly extensive shopping outing. on the docket: IKEA, Wal-Mart, Loblaws, Highland Farms, Dollarama, Bulk Barn... and all before 2pm. so, after watching a couple of episodes of The New Adventures of Old Christine over breakfast (our favourite sunday-morning activity), we hit the road at 9am.

* we were super-productive. we picked up sunscreen (for me) and soil (for trix). we bought pasta (me) and dental rinse (YB). we loaded a new table (hers) and a new pillow (mine) into the trunk, along with a utility cart (also hers) and a collection of fixins to make homemade granola (also mine). there were groceries and essentials, as well as treats and unexpected deals. we wound up stopping at Vaughan Mills, which is gigantic. we only covered about ¼ of the mall before we had to carry on. (we were there long enough for me to get a nutella/banana crêpe, and for trix to grab an iced earl grey tea + three fancy chocolate bars, though. :-D)

* under trixie's supervision, i set about making foster's market granola... which is, apparently, renowned and which YB has made many times before. it's delicious and hearty and it's what i'll be bringing to work this week for breakfast. i'm happy to say it, too, turned out fantastically.

* i'm now back at home, freshly showered and in my pyjamas. the curtains are rehung, the groceries put away, the cookies packed, my lunch for tomorrow made and the tony awards on the TV. i feel like i had a perfectly productive weekend.

* and i found out on friday that one of my faraway friends has sent me a birthday gift via UPS. it left los angeles on saturday and is now en route across america. :-D

FIIIIRE! (sort of)

at approximately 1:40am today, the fire alarm in my apartment building went off.

it is a deafening and shrill alarm, through which no one – no matter how sound a sleeper – could possibly sleep, and so piercing that it actually hurts your ears if they're not protected by earplugs. it is loud and, in the 4+ years i've lived here, it has never, ever gone off before (save for the annual round of testing).

i FLEWWWWW out of bed, heart pounding, and hurried to the front door. everything i'd ever learned in school about what to do in a fire came racing back into my brain. check the door – is it warm? no.

smell for smoke – is there any?

YES.

i pressed my nose to the crack around the door and could definitely smell smoke in the hallway outside. not cigarette smoke, not someone-burned-their-toast smoke, but distinct, SOMETHING IS ON FIRE smoke.

holy crap.

the alarm was still sounding, so i immediately ran back to the bedroom and got dressed. adrenaline pumping, i thought about what to grab in the event that this was a serious fire and i might not be able to get back into my apartment. this was suddenly quite scary – what if the building was really burning? what if i'd get outside and look up and see flames shooting out of someone's window? what if this was real and dangerous? i opted for my wallet and a memory stick with all my computer files on it.

as i was scrambling to put on my shoes, the alarm turned off.

i stopped. i went back to the door and sniffed – i could still smell smoke. i listened, and didn't hear any of my neighbours in the hallway. what the hell was happening?

i called the super, since i knew she'd be awake.

"hi, it's vickie."

"what happened?" said the super.

"that's why i'm calling you – the fire alarm went off and now it's stopped. do we need to leave the building???"

she said she wasn't sure, and explained that the crazy girl at the end of my hall had apparently pulled the alarm because "she smelled smoke and didn't know what to do." i told the super that i, too, could smell smoke in the hall.

"i'm coming up," she said.

but by the time i hung up, the sound of fire-engines approaching cut through the weirdly quiet night air. (honestly, i couldn't believe i was the only one awake, dressed and ready to get out.) i looked out my windows and saw two fire trucks pulling into my street, and figured i should continue what i was doing and get myself outside, just to be safe.

when i opened my apartment door, i heard the crazy girl's door open. she rushed out, locked her door and ran into the rear stairwell of the building. huh. weird. i immediately wondered if she'd, in fact, been the one to start a fire and then pull the alarm when it got out of her control. i decided to walk down the front stairs.

i got to the lobby, and the super was there was one of the firefighters.

"so, what's going on?" i asked. "is everything okay?"

"yes, it's okay now," she said, and went on to say that someone had set a piece of plywood on fire in the rear stairwell.

"was it someone on my floor?" i asked, flatly, because i knew she knew whom i meant.

"well," she said, "the fire was between your floor and the one below, and the person who pulled the alarm was from your floor."

"but is the person who started the fire from my floor?" i asked pointedly, making sure the firefighter was catching all this info.

"yes, i think it was someone from your floor," she replied.

as we stood there, i could hear a few more tenants descending the front stairs, so i went out to pass on the "all clear" news. we all stood outside for a while, kind of watching the proceedings (two fire trucks and plenty of firefighters) and watching as the crazy girl from the end of my hallway, acting like a manic nutjob, was ranting to a couple of other tenants about how she pulled the alarm because she "DIDN'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO!!!!!" i pointed her out to the others, and said she was the one who pulled the alarm.

to me, her behaviour smacked of someone who really really wanted to seem like a hero, as though telling people her side of the story over and over again (because i heard her repeat it at least twice) would somehow convince them she'd done the right thing. one of the firefighters pulled her aside to take down her info – since, you know, she was the one who pulled the alarm – and she was talking to him as if she'd just downed a dozen espressos. spelling her name like she was in the military: "bravo, andrew, richard, richard..."

after all this, only six tenants out of more than 60 bothered to come outside, which is almost as alarming as the prospect of a burning building. i couldn't believe there weren't more people outside. there were a couple of women from a few floors above me, and both of them said the smell of smoke was very strong on their floor, which is why they fled, so clearly other floors had been affected. and yet... six people? really? did everyone else just roll over and go back to sleep?

anyway, i went back to my apartment and tried to get my adrenaline levels back under control. it wasn't easy, and it took me another two hours before i'd calmed down enough to fall back asleep. my mind was racing: what had *really* happened? did the crazy girl really set something on fire? why? i'd heard her have a mini tantrum (some yelling and then a slammed door around 10:30pm), so was she pissed off and armed with matches?

most importantly, was anyone going to investigate? if it was her, and if she did try to set the building on fire, shouldn't she... you know... BE EVICTED?!

and what if she does it again?

or, if it wasn't her, what if whomever it was tries to do it again?

first thing this morning, i called my super to get the full scoop. and even i was not prepared for the crazy girl's level of crazy:

everyone – police, firefighters, building management – believes she's the one who set the fire and put it out and THEN pulled the alarm.

the super said crazy girl ran down to the super's apartment at 1:40am, after pulling the alarm, and was hysterical, saying she'd "found" a fire in the stairwell, put it out herself and THEN pulled the alarm.

the super, wisely, didn't buy a word of it. why would anyone put out a fire and THEN pull the fire alarm?, she wondered aloud to me.

then, when firefighters and, later, police arrived, crazy girl started ranting that the person who set the fire was the creep next door to me (who, while creepy, has never given off any kind of threatening, pyromaniacal vibes). the creep, who'd come outside, was floored.

too bad for crazy girl not a soul believed a word she was saying.

seems she (crazy girl) had been in an argument with the creep next door to me earlier last night (which was, i discovered, the source of the door-slamming tantrum i heard around 10:30pm) over his smoking. and, my super theorizes, this was her way of getting back at him – setting a small fire and then blaming him for it.

SHE IS INSANE.

the super said that the police detectives who arrived agreed that crazy girl was lying, and said they'd "have a talk with her." the big problem is: even though everyone knows she did it, no one has any proof she did.

there are no security cameras in the building, and no one actually saw her light a match to anything. but her history of disruptive, dramatic behaviour precedes her, and is on official record with the police (again: see: last november's wee-hour drama), and her manic behaviour during questioning last night was, despite her efforts to the contrary, a giant beacon of "IT WAS ME."

thanks to this blog, i was able to inform my super that it was on november 6th, 2010, that crazy girl was escorted out of the building by police. my super thanked me, and the info is going into crazy girl's ever-growing file with the management company.

and, you know, as much as the creep and the weirdo next door creep and weird me out, i would much rather have them living here than someone who clearly poses a very immature, very crazy, very real threat to everyone who lives in the building.

collaborative arts

this has been a week overflowing with creative endeavours.

first, the promo videos.

it began with one day of shooting last friday, which involved an elaborate set-up by my sound- and video-engineer friend, who not only had fancy lenses but high-tech recording equipment. we figured out the ideal camera position and designed the perfect lighting set-up, i dressed the set with silver picture frames and strategically placed tealights, and my interview subjects – who were fabulous – waited to be called in. each interview was around 17 minutes. i had a number of questions prepared and, more than a few times, tears welled and voices cracked during the answers. much to my delight, everyone opened their hearts and spoke openly, honestly and thoughtfully, resulting in rich material from which to mine gold.

after digitizing the footage and uploading it to my loaner mac, next came many, many hours of editing. it took up the remainder of last weekend and several hours after work each day for the first half of this past week. in addition to having great fun reviewing the interviews, marking soundbites, sourcing music, trimming clips, adjusting audio, designing titles, imposing supers, tweaking transitions and converting files to quicktime, i learned a lot. i am now a master of imovie. i also discovered several things about editing: it is the domain of the perfectionist. it is embraced by the fastidious. you need patience and persistence but, most importantly, a clever, creative eye. especially when it comes to problem solving.

and, though it was a lot of work (and, occasionally, mind-scramblingly frustrating), it made me feel so incredibly creative. i was putting together a project. creating a piece of art. (i know, it sounds pretentious and precious, but that's what i felt like i was doing.) best of all, i'm really proud of each of the videos. i think they're turning out wonderfully, and at least six more are still to come. stay tuned.

at work, meanwhile, about midway through the week, the head designer and i were tasked with creating test covers for part of one of the magazines' holiday shopping guide. we were also asked to redesign eight pages worth of gift spreads.

A PROJECT!

and, more importantly, a collaborative project. yay!

the process has been, in a word, awesome. huge amounts of fun and several different flavours of creativity for both of us. together, we discussed colours and fonts, images and text, placement of logos and why the stock photo of the droopy-eyed bulldog should have a toy photoshopped at his paws.

over a few days, we repeatedly consulted with each other – did i like this shade of blue? did she think that sentence looked lame with an exclamation point at the end? – and there were many hours spent fine-tuning our work together. honestly, i haven't had that much fun on a work-related assignment in... gosh... ever.

i mean, it helps that we get along terrifically and have the same aesthetic tastes. i don't think we disagreed on anything, really. we just worked and created and flexed our creative muscles. we also both remained respectful of the other's domain and talked about what we were doing in kind, supportive ways.

finally, this morning, we finished the spreads. i'd taken printouts home with me last night so i could concentrate on coming up with the right emotive language to sell things like winter jackets, diamonds, magazine subscriptions and pizza to (the client hopes) consumers eager to consume. i brought them into the office today, my designer friend worked her magic for the final polish and then it was time to show my editor.

we were both nervous – we really loved the pages we'd produced and we feared they would, for whatever reason, be shot down or revised or met with a meh.

i made the presentation and waited as my editor perused the words and pictures.

before he even finished flipping through it all he said, "this is great."

(omigod!)

"this is much stronger. this is great."

i was thrilled, and left to share the good news with my designer friend, who was equally elated. we'd done it! we honoured our own creative ideas and design tastes, produced work we loved and got an A for our efforts. sure, my editor's boss – who has radically different tastes – might hate it all when she sees it on monday but, for today, an A. hooray! we celebrated briefly and the soldiered on to the remaining test covers, which we'll finish next week.

i went back to my desk and, when i arrived, saw that i had a new email. it was from my designer friend. the subject line was "total YAY!!!" and the body read:

"go team!!!! :)))

i must say i am SO happy you are here! i am loving our collaborations!!!!"

:-)

yeah, it was a good week. tiring, but so very satisfying.

okay, THAT'S IT...

where the eff have my blog entries been?!

why are they now coming in at a snail's pace, four or five days apart?!

not acceptable.

at all.

i have no excuse except to say that they've fallen by the wayside due to other commitments... but that's not entirely true. like my lapse in creative self-nurturing (discussed a few entries ago), the blogging has slipped not because i don't have time, but because i lack motivation.

that's gotta change.

so, i'm going to shoot for at least three new entries a week for the next little while. saying i'll post a new entry a day might be a bit ambitious (and daunting), so i'll aim low(er) in the hopes that, before you know, i will be back on some kind of regular track again.

in the meantime, thanks to those of you who have kept checking back. there will be new stuff to read starting tomorrow...

quickly, then...

* i've been up to my eyeballs in work these past few days. but it's been good to be busy. helps combat any residual saudade. (mostly.)

* over the past week, i've watched 108 short films. thankfully, from my couch. and, tomorrow, i have to write about my favourite 15 of them.

* i spent all day friday shooting material for promos for friends who are launching a stage show in the fall.

* i was up until after midnight last night editing the footage from said shoot. i've put this and this together so far, and i'm quite pleased with the results. it's been a really great process, and it's spurred unexpected introspection. well, maybe not totally unexpected.

* i still haven't written my review for X-Men: First Class, which was fabulous. adding it to the to-do list for tomorrow.

* i have tuesday off this coming week. i'll be going to the dentist, then to see my therapist, then to get my semi-annual haircut. i am halfway considering chopping all my hair off.

* i've had a couple of pensive blog entries bouncing around in my head, but the dust (and, in this weather, the pollen) hasn't settled enough for me to get them written.

* in less than three weeks, i will turn 40.

sleep and saudade

i had the hug dream again last night.

it's been many, many months since i've had a hug dream, but this one was no less pronounced and powerful than its predecessors... though in a somewhat different way.

this time, the dream was long and detailed, with arcs and emotional movements and assorted locations and the distinct passage of time, with hours elapsing in the dream itself.

i awoke from it at 3:26am, left in the familiar grasp of saudade. i felt it so intensely that i almost got up out of bed to write this blog entry in the hopes that i might shake some of it off before morning. but i didn't, and it lingered as i got dressed, packed my bag for work and rode the bus.

while the themes and feelings were largely the same as those of hug dreams past, in this incarnation it was not i who was seeking forgiveness.

though there were assorted "scenes" and events that preceded it, the key moment came when my hug-ee tearfully slipped a long letter under my apartment door. i could not open the door to speak to her, and hit my fists against it. pleading. yelling "why don't you just talk to me?!" as she walked away.

i opened the letter and it was not addressed to me; it discussed me. it was addressed, almost like a memo, to a long list of her family and friends, and i realized i'd been given the copy as a way of being shown rather than directly told how my hug-ee felt. in the letter, she wrote honestly and openly, and talked about me with kindness and gratitude and regret. she said she missed me. she said she was sorry. and she expressed how much she wished things could go back to the way they once were.

i wasted no time and went to find her. when i did, she was walking down a long set of cement stairs and i was behind her. she was wearing a red suede jacket, which made her stand out against the grey of the steps. i called her name and she turned. she seemed nervous and, as i walked down to her, she started to say something about how angry i must be, but i cut her off and just pulled her in for a long, tight hug. again, as always, there was nothing sexual or seductive about the embrace. it was about love. forgiveness. and a profound sense of peace. when i started to let go, she held on. and i felt this enormous wave of relief and contentment wash over me.

then, the dream disappeared. upon waking, saudade.

i don't know what sparked this dream, or why it happened now. the subconscious is a weird and complex thing, i suppose. but, each time i have the hug dream, for a fleeting moment afterwards, a tiny part of my heart wonders if it happens because my hug-ee is having the same dream about me.

wait... REALLY?!: a pleasant vignette

because my brain is a little scattered lately, i forgot to submit my accreditation request for an upcoming film festival. the deadline was yesterday, and i realized my error this morning. (i'd actually downloaded and filled out the form last week, i just didn't remember to actually get it off my desktop and into an email to the PR firm handling media requests.)

i hemmed and hawed over what to do -- should i just skip the fest altogether, email my form a day late and hope they'd still process it, or just go to the screenings on my own dime (boo!) and not have the pressure of having to write about any of them (yay!)?

i opted for none of the above and, instead, sent a quick email to the PR firm to advise them i wasn't applying for accreditation because of my new job, and the fact that i might not actually be able to get to many films due to my full-time work schedule. i'm on good terms with the firm, and they were one of the first to actually acknowledge me as a legitimate member of the press, so i wanted to make sure they didn't think i was blowing off the festival.

off went the email.

a few minutes later, i received a "thank you" reply from a very friendly underling.

about ten minutes after that, the head of the firm emailed me to say, "thanks for letting us know. we've got DVD screeners of almost everything screening at the festival, so if you'd like to watch some and then write about them, let me know."

:-D

my own personal film festival! i can watch from my couch! i can attend screenings in my pyjamas! and i can do it all BEFORE the actual fest even starts!

yes, please.

communication

at the office, we sit in cubicles. there are eight cubicles attached to the cluster in which i sit – two rows, four cubicles on each side. i’m in desk three of four on my side, and the desk next to mine, the one at the end of our row, is occupied by a man i’ll call steven.

steven wasn’t present during my first week here. he’s one of many mail guys at the company, and several people asked me during that week whether i’d met him yet. i always said no, and i was warned by a few folks that he was odd. that he speaks loudly when he’s on the phone. and a couple of guys even snickered in a way that made it seem like steven might be a grade-A creep who’d enjoy sitting next to me.

steven appeared when my second week began. and he was not what i expected.

he’s asian, probably in his early 40s and developmentally challenged in some way. i think he’s likely autistic, as there’s an obvious disconnect in terms of engagement and interaction between him and everyone else. he doesn’t really talk much. he’s got a slight frame, and one eye that’s either lazy or blind as it doesn’t point forward, so he often walks with his head slightly cocked to the side, as if looking at the world through his good eye. steven has a very pronounced speech impediment, and a very thick accent, both of which combined make it hard to understand what he’s saying. and, yes, he does speak very loudly when he’s on the phone.

in the days and weeks that have followed, i’ve watched him. observed. i’ve noticed that many people are very nice to him, and treat him with kindness and patience and respect, and that makes my heart glad.

because, when i hear him as i do right now, speaking with great volume as he places a call, struggling to make clear the thoughts he wishes to get across, i feel very deeply how difficult communication is for him. i put myself in his shoes. i imagine what it must be like, the effort he puts in, and how impatient other people can sometimes get while he tries to express himself.

and it squeezes my heart a little.

oh hello, i didn't see you there...

* happy victoria day!

* right now, there are so many fireworks and firecrackers being set off in my neighbourhood that it sounds a bit like my apartment is in the middle of beirut. we had a big thunderstorm roll through earlier, so i think everyone has decided to make the most of the temporarily clear skies... all at the same time. plus, the acoustics around all the buildings are creating echoes, so the pops and booms just keep reverberating.

* i spent the weekend out in the 'burbs. on saturday morning, mom and i went shopping -- groceries and a coffee maker (for her) and samples and such. she dropped me at YB's house in the early afternoon, and i helped with some of her gardening chores. my task was to mix large quantities of peat moss and potting soil, and then to distribute said quantities into assorted pots of varying sizes. it was very warm and quite humid out, which made our tasks a little more tiring than they would have been otherwise. we discovered a family of four teeny, fuzzy, adorable red squirrels living in one the giant trees in her backyard. we had homemade soup and fresh bread for dinner. then, for dessert, we opened a fresh tub of...

* president's choice pink lemonade ice cream. it was an impulse purchase on my part, because it's a brand-new product and it instantly made me think of the deeeeeelicious lemon ice cream (not sorbet, not sherbet, ICE CREAM) i used to eat each summer up at the cottage we used to rent. there was a tiny, ancient general store on the property, with big, old freezers in the front, and they would serve generous cones of the most amazing, creamy, refreshing, sweet lemon ice cream. so, saturday night, super-excited, YB and i each grabbed a spoon to sample the PCPLIC before scooping ourselves a couple of bowls. and let me just say... it was... absolutely terrible. bland, sour and the consistency of frozen mousse – which is to say airy and frothy, not dense and creamy. i really should have known better when i'd been tempted by it in the store: we've tried at least three different flavours from this crap-tastic line of ice creams and ALL have been disappointing. PCPLIC: FAIL.

* we watched Morning Glory, which was cute, and Waiting for Superman, which was very good.

* earlier today, and somewhat out of the blue, my mother said she "really needs" to figure out where she wants to be buried. then she added that trixie and i need to decide whether we want to find our own plots, or be buried with our parents. and i felt like i'd suddenly been hit with a panic taser.

* in case you hadn't heard, a volanco in iceland erupted. i am crossing all appendages that the country remains sound asleep for the duration of my visit... mainly because i'm SO not interested in being stranded in reykjavik indefinitely.

* SYTYCD starts up again this coming thursday. it's one of the signs (for me) that summer is approaching. i always know summer has officially arrived, though, when Big Brother gets underway for the season. (in case you're keeping track: it starts on july 7th!)

* speaking of summer, in one month and one day i will turn 40 years old. i have many thoughts on this subject, some of which will likely find their way into a blog entry or two between now and then. in the meantime, i'm trying to figure out what to do. part of me thinks it's a milestone birthday worth celebrating and that i should make an extra effort to do it up somehow, but the other part of me thinks, "you know what? don't get your expectations up. treat it like any other birthday. get your free stuff, have some cake, and call it a day." i remain undecided. maybe i'll just shave my head. (i'm only half-kidding.)

* further to my previous pants post, i bought three new pairs of pants last week. each pair was at least 70% off its original price.

* tomorrow is day one of week five (!) of the not-so-new-anymore job. originally, this would have been my final week but, now, friday will be the midpoint of the assignment. starting the following week, i'll only be working four days per week (every friday off). and, at the moment, there's an unfinalized, still-up-in-the-air discussion about extending the job two more months after that. possibly on a recurring, part-time basis. stand by.

* i continue to neglect my creative writing. not because i don't have time, but because i can't seem to motivate myself. i may try to loosen those muscles with a poem i've been mulling since i started the job: "ode to the world's most disgusting cough." (the cough does not belong to me. the cough – which is loud and phlegmy and completely revolting – belongs to some woman who sits somewhere in a cubicle not too far away, and it's been echoing through the office since my very first day. every. day.)

"saudade"

one of the stories i'm currently writing for one of the magazines on which i'm working is a travel piece about rio. it's just a general-info article on what to see and do.

during the course of my research, i decided to browse popular brazilian phrases to see if i could somehow incorporate one into the story. you know, to add a splash of colour.

in doing so, i came across the word "saudade" (pronounced sow-dadge), which has different interpretations but is described as a melancholic feeling for something you loved that no longer exists or is no longer present. my favourite definition, though, was the one that said the word means "the sadness we have for happy memories."

i thought that beautifully poetic.

(and, as a trivial aside, brazil actually honours the feeling with the day of saudade every january 30th.)

my past in pants

the other day, while rooting through my closet to see which of my “work clothes” still fit after nine years on hangers (answer: almost none), i found two pairs of pants i love.

they were waaay at the back of the closet, at the end of the rod, and i’d actually forgotten they were still there. a couple of years ago, when i mistakenly gave too much attention - and assigned too much importance - to who i was on the outside, i’d done a big clothes purge, getting rid of anything i thought didn’t reflect the person i wanted to be. or, more accurately, the person i thought i was supposed to be.

and i guess i thought these two pairs of pants had been given away along with everything else.

but there they were. alive!

i loved them then, and love them now, because they’re unique. they’re a matching set – the exact same style, in two different colours (beige and olive). they’re men’s pants, and i remember buying them at a burlington coat factory, oh, easily 13 or 14 years ago. (i take good care of my clothes, so they’re still in excellent shape all this time later.)

they’re a sturdy cotton. not quite denim, but thick and tough, as though made to survive the rough and tumble antics of overgrown little boys. they have a narrow waist, so they fit me perfectly around the middle, and then enormous, billowy legs that are rendered sail-like in the wind. they’re not cargo pants, and they’re not painter pants, but they do have huge pockets at the back and one on the right-side leg right around the knee.

i bought them back when i was going through a mild skater phase, fascinated by girls (and guys) who could pull off a tight, girlie shirt and massive, boy pants. this look was usually completed by classic vans or original airwalk (before they became crappy payless-affiliated models) shoes. as an aside, i actually had a wicked cool pair of royal- and navy-blue airwalks, too, but wore them to the point where they could be worn no more.

i remember feeling cool when i wore those pants – especially the olive ones, which looked like they were part of some kind of fun, funky, jacked-up military uniform. they were wonderfully loose and super-comfortable and functional: all the pockets were roomy, and the side pocket on the leg was a great place for keys, or a small wallet, or whatever. they were nice and long, as well, which meant i could even roll up the cuff around the ankle.

when i found the pants again last week, i felt like i’d stumbled upon another version of myself. an older version. a familiar version. a version that might have been upgraded since, but one that still works, still has value, and was never entirely phased out.

and i put them on.

what does it mean to be creative?

i've been pondering that question a lot over the past few weeks.

ever since i began my new job -- which, btw, has now officially been extended through the end of june -- i've felt a curious, growing guilt that, while i've been enjoying having a regular paycheque and reawakening my long-dormant magazine skills, i've also been ignoring my creativity. abandoning it.

before the job offer, i'd done a lot of work through that creativity-recovery workshop and felt like i'd finally built a solid foundation on which to expand, creatively. i had new screenplay deadlines in place, an idea for reworking a very old screenplay into a stage piece (a musical, no less!), and thought perhaps i was moving successfully and concretely, however belatedly, towards a real artist's life.

thing is, since april 25th, all of those things have completely fallen by the wayside. completely. save for my photo-a-day blog and the tiny handful of entries i've written here, i haven't done a speck of my own creative work on any of my own creative endeavours. i sit at my desk, in front of my computer, all day at the office so, when i get home at the end of the day, it's the last place i want to be. even when i do sit at my desk at home, it's like i hear an internal dial tone. i feel like i'm tapping the flint, desperately trying to create a spark that might build a flame... but nuthin'.

and, instead of figuring out some other way to get the fire going, i wind up chastising myself for dropping the proverbial ball i spent so many months stitching together. as crazy as it might sound, despite finally feeding the long-malnourished professional side of myself (and the accompanying long-malnourished bank account), i feel like i'm letting my creative half down. that i'm turning my back on my plans, that i'm not putting in enough effort, and that i'm once again taking the "easy" way out of facing a potentially challenging situation (i.e., trying to make a living in the arts).

for the most part, i've managed to nip the negative self-talk in the bud by pointing out (to myself) the ways i am being creative during the workday. i write daily -- every single day, for at least a few hours a day -- and, with a few minor corporate tweaks here and there (since the magazines are specialty corporate publications and are subject to corporate, not editorial, approval), every word of it goes into print. there was a day last week when i was asked, for the first time in my life, to come up with a cover line. so, after some brainstorming, i did. and there it is still, right on the cover, approved as i wrote it, waiting to go to press. i get to use puns in headlines. i'm playing with words. i'm taking what could be dry, business-related subject matter and giving it pep. alliteration. colour.

despite all this, i still find myself wondering. worrying.

does it count?

is non-fiction, corporate writing less worthy than fiction?

am i copping out?

what does it mean to be creative?

door culture

working in an office for the past few weeks, i’ve noticed a curious phenomenon: people repeatedly, happily and patiently holding the door open for me.

the first few times it happened i thought, “wow. folks here sure are courteous!”, and then it kept happening. not just at the office or in the compound, but elsewhere out in the world.

i’ve always been the kind of person to hold a door open for someone else, but i’ve found it’s an increasingly rare practice. people are in a collective hurry; there’s no time to stand and wait three seconds for the person wandering in or out after you. “let them hold their own door!” frequently seems to be the thinking.

and yet here i was, multiple times a day, every day, having men and women hold doors open for me. likewise, i’ve found myself going out of my way to make sure to do the same, standing and waiting for people who are shuffling after me towards the door or hurrying with their cafeteria lunch to the elevator in which i'm already standing. pay it forward and all.

and then, earlier this week, i had what i can only describe as a weirdly amazing door-holding moment on my way into the subway. i was heading into the station and a young, scrawny and tall young guy, maybe 21 and sort of geeky, was heading out. i was still a good ten feet from the door when he exited and walked toward me. he looked up at me, suddenly stopped and, without saying a word, walked back maybe five or six feet to the now-closed door, opened it and stood there, holding it open for me.

wait. what?

?!

i was stunned. in a good way. i offered a big, surprised thank you and proceeded through. an older businessman walked in next to me, through an adjacent door. he sort of chuckled and said, “wow. you don’t see that every day.”

“i know!” i replied, genuinely shocked. because, really, it was genuinely unexpected and genuinely nice.

three weeks, tons of doors. and the more it happens, the more i notice it happening.

the meaning and metaphor not lost on me.

999

you know that old adage that, if you don't have anything nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all? well, lately, i've been quiet on the blog for a similar reason: i didn't really have anything meaningful to say, so i said nothing.

see, this is blog entry #999.

the next one will be entry #1000.

one thousand posts.

wow.

i've known it was coming for a while – i think i realized the milestone was approaching when i logged in one day last month and saw that i was on blog entry #980-something. then, last week, it hit me that i was just a few posts away from #1000.

and it was as though i suddenly dug in my metaphorical heels and stopped.

i didn't want to squander my thousandth post, and i also didn't want to get to it until whatever i'd write would be worthy of that epic number, so i just... didn't write anything.

to be fair, i was swamped last week and, between the new job and covering hot docs, i feel like i've been spinning. there wasn't time for me to sit down and write something thoughtfully, or even carefully, and i wanted to make sure that i was exhaling when i wrote, not gasping. thankfully, the dust is finally settling and i'm getting back into some semblance of routine.

coincidentally, over the past couple of weeks, i've felt strangely reflective – a feeling that's ideal for something like a thousandth blog entry – but i haven't caught my breath enough to really explore any of it, either in my head or in my writing. i know some of it has to do with my high school reunion (the one i didn't manage to attend), and i'm sure some of it has to do with my impending 40th birthday. i also think some of it has to do with this blog itself, and the fact that, over the past 998 entries, a lot of time has passed. sometimes, i can't quite believe how much.

i look back at the first few entries from 2007, when i first moved into this apartment and was starting fresh in so many different ways. things were happening, my life was changing. i remember it all so clearly – not just the what of it all, but how i felt. in the four-and-a-bit years that have since passed, so much more has changed. so much has also stayed the same. and a lot of it is documented here.

my friend lou has talked before about how a blog can be a marker, and that, by looking back through its entries, you remember who you were at different points in time. you see change. you remember. i think that's definitely true for me. i notice the ebbs and flows just by clicking randomly on old entries. and i can always tell which ones were written during periods of great emotion, good or bad, and why, and what caused them, and how life unfolded around whatever it was.

in some ways, i feel like entry #1000 should therefore honour that journey, both in life and in blogging. that it should be more than just a quickly fired-off post about something frivolous. it deserves more than that, i think.

or maybe it doesn't. maybe entry #1000 is no more special than entry #288 or #415 or #621. maybe it, like countless other posts on this blog, should just be about whatever it's about, and reflect the me of that day. whatever that might mean. and, in that, find meaning organically.

i dunno.

for now, i'm trying to figure out what to write. and how i might write it. but it's coming.

eventually. ;-)

this will be a rant later, i'm sure

annoying: bringing your infant to a hot docs screening.

more annoying: taking your infant and sitting yourself smack dab in the middle of the packed theatre, about eight rows from the front, where you are surrounded by people.

so annoying that i am going to come down there and junk-punch you right up in your lady business: not immediately taking your restless infant OUT of the theatre when it begins to whine and cry and fuss, and -- instead! -- opting to keep it (unsuccessfully) entertained by turning on your enormous smartphone and having its blinding blue rectangle of light shine towards everyone else sitting behind you in the theatre. FOR ALMOST THE ENTIRE MOVIE.

playing catch-up

i hate to say it but, as much as i love it, i'll be glad when hot docs is over this year. trying to attend a film festival and work full-time is a juggling act i never attempted back when i was a salaried employee years ago (i always took the week of TIFF as vacation time), and trying to do it now, after a decade of working from home and making my own hours, is proving to be a challenge. a very tiring one.

for much of the past two weeks, i felt like i was perpetually behind and scrambling to catch up with everything. i had writing assignments to finish, pre-hot docs screenings to attend, a dead computer and a brand new job starting. i hadn't cleaned my apartment in a month, i had bags of laundry to be done waiting in my parents' basement, and my high school was holding its 50th anniversary celebrations this past weekend. how would i get it all done?

it was an exercise in multi-tasking, strategic planning and, for lack of a better word, sacrifice. i plowed through a huge amount of stuff on saturday, and opted to forego the high-school reunion (which was sad because the school is actually closing forever in june... something i'll write about another day) in order to finish the rest of my work before heading to hot docs on sunday afternon. i went grocery shopping and stocked up for the week, and caught up on my documentary reviews so i could begin this week caught up.

the job itself is going very well. i'm really enjoying the work i'm doing, and i like the fact that each day brings something new. there's also great personal satisfaction in ending a day and feeling like i've actually accomplished something – that i had tangible tasks to complete, and i completed them. i've also come to realize how much i've missed day-to-day interaction with other people. as in: talking to someone other than myself... every day. whether it's a cross-cubicle discussion of reality TV or a short chat break to learn about UFC matches, gardening gadgets or the breakfast special at the compound cafeteria, that kind of connection and regular engagement is something that had been sorely lacking in my life for a long time. so, you know, it's kind of nice to have that back.

most of the people in the office are a fair bit younger than i am, and almost all of them are much cooler and more hip than me. having not worked in an office for nearly ten years, my "work wardrobe" is thin at best. though i do have a number of professional-esque pairs of pants and the like, i found out last night that nothing actually fits me anymore. evidently, i've lost weight since 2002, and everything now looks like it's two sizes too big. as such, and since i work for a company that publishes a number of fashion magazines (staffed by fashionable people), i do feel kind of square... sort of like anne hathaway at the beginning of The Devil Wears Prada. only, i don't have stanley tucci or a giant storehouse of free designer clothes and shoes to get me from plain to pizazz. (as an aside, there are a LOT of beautiful, stylish women who work on my floor and elsewhere in the compound, and i feel kind of like i lumber around like a clumsy linebacker.)

at the same time, i have to keep reminding myself that this is a five-week gig. this isn't a permanent position, and it isn't my new full-time job. it's temporary. the other day, i caught myself mentally going over what new items i should probably buy – like a good pair of nice boots so i can keep walking to work without further foot injury (i think i might have a stress fracture in my left foot... did i mention that?) – and i stopped when i remembered this job will be over at the end of may. no sense in planning what to wear in july. or october.

in some ways, i kind of wish it were a longer-term assignment. i'm liking it. a lot. and i'm feeling productive and useful and appreciated... things i hadn't felt in a long time. i do recognize that i've sacrificed some degree of my more creative pursuits these last two weeks – for starters, updating this blog on a regular basis has fallen by the wayside somewhat, and i haven't done any of my own writing at all – but i'm hoping to achieve a better balance once hot docs draws to a close and i get my nights back. i just need to get through the next five days and things should fall into place in a much better way.