Bravo Charlie

13 Months

2008-08-03T00:38:00.000-07:00

I initially posted this on my facebook, and got quite a good response. A lot of people are moving out of the foyer now, or leaving Geneva, so I think they found it pretty entertaining - a good way to remember all the strange Swiss customs. Of course not everything I learned while working for the EAA or living in Geneva is included - it seems everyday I think of one or two more things to add to the list. But for now, here it is:

Things I Learned While Living in Geneva:

*in Switzerland, people kiss three times on the cheek, not twice. This can get confusing when visiting friends in other parts of Europe. This can also get annoying when you're meeting a group.

* Diet coke is called 'coca-light'

* Although it's not the best idea to cross the 'do not cross' line while on top of a mountain, you can get some pretty sweet shots if you take a little risk.

* The best deal in Switzerland - free water from the fountains located sporadically throughout the city. Its clean and oh so tasty.

* You can't see the stars in Switzerland... this actually just makes me happy I'm going home.

* it is impossible to get lost in Geneva. Even if its your first day, and you wander around for hours, you will wind up right outside your apartment thinking 'gee I'm so effing lost right now!'

* the negative sign on your account statement is on the RIGHT side, not the left. Don't think you're making money every time you withdraw, UBS doesn't like you that much.

* consider yourself lucky if you get to see Montreaux on a clear day

* don't call Steph a bitch or dirty whore while complementing her hair cut and while your door is only half open...her parents maybe standing in ear shot.

* standard Swiss city: river, castle, and mountain.

* the guy outside of Migros, who plays the accordion, is Hungarian, and Steph's friend. He also likes it when you buy him 1 franc pies.

* your colleague may work just behind you but you'll still find the majority of your communication mediated by skype, adium, facebook, and two sets of email

* je suis tres excite - does not mean what you think it does.

* about 90% of the parties and gatherings in Geneva are 'going away' parties

* Vegimite is disgusting - do not trust the Australian's that try and tell you differently

* If a colleague is having trouble with their computer, buy yourself time to Google an actual solution by telling them to 'just restart it'

* Always allot yourself about 30 minutes per week to deal with Emma's email issues (that one is for you Stephen)

* If you have a train to catch Saturday morning at 6 am, its really not a good idea to stay at Shakers until 5.

* You know its time to leave Usine(zoo) when either a) the floor gets so sticky you shoes litterally become stuck to the ground or b) you start spending most your time protecting Steph from severe douchebags.

* When playing 'guess the stereotype', be sure that members of certain ethnic groups that you are making inappropriate comments about are not sitting within ear shot

* When playing 'guess the stereotype' don't throw an entire round by beginning with 'well at least I know you don't have Louis'

* Never enter a hot chili eating contest with a tiny australian. you will lose.(also, don't cut hot chili up then wipe your eye - it will be the greatest pain you will ever experience in your life)

* If Jean ever invites you over for cakes, go.

* When stalking your favourite artist around a castle in Germany, get rid of the chocolate ball and have someone with you who can reliably decipher whether or not they are the musician you think they are, and also accurately determine which of the identical twins you are following

* Putting your feet up on the seat in front of you while on a train is 'not possible in France'* mayonaise tastes good on pretty much everything - blame Gilberto.

* never enter a debate about the difference between aluminum and aluminium

* the three most important questions in Geneva: who are you, what do you do, how long are you here for (give yourself extra points if you find someone who doesn't work / study in human rights or international development)

* Italians will make fun of you for saying 'lunch', but they'll do it in Italian and then serve you really good gnochi so really, who's complaining?

* 'boh' should officially become a part of everyone's vocabulary

* If an Italian says 'prego' to you, they are not asking if you're pregnant

* When in the alps, don't wear shorts - its really really cold up there

* Always keep the conversion rate in mind when paying in Pounds - otherwise you will come home broke all the while thinking 'wow that was a cheap trip'

* You cannot drink on the streets in Belfast

* If in Prague, DO NOT go see a black light show...unless you have consumed a significant amount of absinthe first, because really, that is the only way that shit makes sense

* Angelina Jolie may work for the UNHCR but hell if she is ever actually at that damned building.

* When in an eastern european country, with no money, maybe don't keep ordering mojitos - no matter how good they are

* Maps are unnecessary and completely useless in Venice

* 'server thingy' and 'the hosting guy' may not be technical terms but do make explaining web/email solutions much easier

* Just because the chocolate you bought was really expensive and good, it's not generally a smart idea to keep it in Steph's room for 6 months - eventually, it just tastes like Foyer

* Although it may be a good idea to give your credit card to Steph for safe keeping, it is not a good idea to give her your box of Oreos.

* No one may want to call the cat Honduras, but if you are persistent they will be forced to do just that

* Doesn't matter how important or well educated some diplomats are - everyone has a soft spot for "10 Things I Hate About You"

* The eye diagram at the photo booth is for aligning - it is not representative of where your eyes should be in the photo...

* If you make plans with an Italian and a mini-Brit, be sure to have cell phone on hand - if you don't meet them, you will never, ever, hear the end of it.

* Swiss trams, trains, and busses can never be late - don't bother running for one because even if you make it, are standing at the door pushing the button, if they're a hair off schedule then they're leaving you the fuck behind.

* When flying, sit on the left side of the plane to get a good view of alps

* There is not a 'resist' button on my watch - it says 'water resist' - this is good to know.

* Steph's method of saving people from oncoming traffic is to scream then jump out of the way...you'll kind of need to pay attention to her to realize that bus is headed right for you..

* If going out with Farhad know that you will never be able to adequately capture his 'dancing face' on camera. Committ that shit to memory - the same goes for 'crazy naked tattoo guy'

* If in Amsterdam, DO NOT EAT SUBWAY

* never watch Japanese horror films that have a high probability of turning you into a racist

* If you're competitive, never bowl with the Sweedes. They'll kick your ass and be terribly adorable doing so.

* Germans like to mosh to Jimmy Eat World...during slow songs..

* Limiting the HIV team to one technical question a day will greatly improve your productivity / facebook time

* You will always win in the 'great skype hang up race' against your communications supervisor provided you never tell them that they are in competition with you.

* If in a staff meeting, maybe don't agree to do something when you haven't been paying attention. Also, if you start laughing hysterically when you catch the tail of a sentence ('men who have sex with men and religious leaders') it will be strikingly apparent to the rest of the staff that you were not paying attention.
-----

DANA: and this is the resist button
GILBERTO: thats not the 'resist' button, your watch says 'water resit'

DANA:if i pushed you in the river could i still come to your funeral
STEPH: yes
DANA: but i killed you
STEPH: but i liked you up until then

DANA: i'm an amm'rican, i'm gonna go get my ball

GILBERTO: steph, quick hide, they're coming[steph proceeds to run and hide behind a 2inch pole while covering her face with a bag of lettuce]

"Does anyone have a plain envelope?"
"Do you mean like, an envelope for a plane?"

GILBERTO :Dana, your teeth are big and green /Dana, you have a big panchene
DANA: What is a panchene?
GILBERTO: I don't know. it just rhymed

ME: I just broke the cookie jar
STEPH: is that code for something?
ME: its code for 'Gilberto is a douchebag'

HAROLD: "i don't like italians, they steal passports"

STEPH: I remember it like it was yesterday
ME: It was four hours ago

GILBERTO: lots of french "tu ecoutes .."
ME: tu ecoutes not you!

JUSTIN: I'm a cylon and I've been programmed for make-outs

GILBERTO / ME: Can you Walter that for me?

ME: What are penguin's anyways? Birds?
STEPH: Dinosaurs?on msn

STEPH: haha ok BYE DAD we're going shopping. what do you want from swiss land? CHOCKI?STEPH: HAHAHA you're not my dad

KATHERINE: Is your mom coming to the EAA
DANA: Yeah I hope so
KATHERINE: Oh we'll have to tell her about all the wild and crazy things you do here
DANA: oh yeah, like, oooh mom today I created some php templates
KATHERINE: naked

(talking to Steph while inputting 100 emails individually into a listserv)
Steph: ooh thats going quickly
Dana: thank god for keyboard short cuts
Dana: im all apple c, apple tab, delete, double click, apple v, enter, apple tab, arrow down - repeat
Dana: im making that a facebook quote
Steph: haha
Dana: im done
Dana: oh my god
Dana: i added them to the wrong listserv
Steph: ooooh no!
Steph: apple tab, delete

JUSTIN / DANA: "oooh, that's racey"

VICTORIA: "Do you have a catch phrase?"

: "You're acting like a vajayjay cleaner, Justin"

DANA: "aw, she's so cute with her accent. I want a cute accent"
EMMA: "you're north american, darling, there's no chance."

STEPH: cant you like, just stay - i will hide you in my room. no one will know - and then i will import vic, and hide her too, and then you will have a friend and then you can open an internet business (not porn!) from my room

FRANCESCA: *something in Italian*
DANA: awww, that sounds almost romantic
FRANCESCA: I called you a floating piece of shit
DANA: that is less romantic

MOM (to my friends at dinner): I have two really girly daughters
ME: uhhh. thanks mom
MOM - blank stare
MOM: I have two really girly daughters

DAD: she thought she was catgirl, no uh, batwoman, no batcat

EMMA (enters empty office): Did the rapture happen and we got left behind?

(I walk into Emma and Thabo's office while Linda is writing me a card)
LINDA: Dana, leave!
DANA: What? Why?
LINDA: Leave!
DANA: why?!
LINDA: you used to be so respectful
DANA: you trained me well Linda.

(oh phone with mom)
MOM: what are you doing?
DANA: I'm watching the couple across the street from me, I can see into their living room
MOM: Oh..you ever see them...you know?
DANA: you know, what?
MOM: you know..
DANA: oh once the guy was doing push ups and I thought he was doing something else, but it was just push ups
MOM: thats dirty.

STEPH: we're drunk
JUSTIN: no, that's just you s-bu

JUSTIN: Here's the set up, you're in a meadow, Justice is playing, Tegan and Sara are there and they are holding your hands and they are both being nice to you

NICOLE (in Gilberto's card): Please give me the fridge, Steve will only fill it with Denner products

KATHERINE (11:45 - everyday): When are we lunching?

KATHERINE: oh that's neat, the wallet has your name on it
DANA: no it says Hurley, its a brand
KATHERINE: No I know, but its *like* your name, so you see what she's done here?

(while looking for snacks to bring on the train I see steph in the sauce aisle)
DANA: so Steph, what you thinking, going to take some curry sauce and eat from the jar on the train?
STEPH: oh yeah, that would be crazy good.

Take me anywhere

2008-06-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in my previous post, mid April through to the beginning of May saw Gilberto, Steph and I doing a lot of traveling. And, following our trip to Ireland, we found ourselves soon preparing for another excursion - this time to Belgium (because when you live in land of chocolate, its always a good idea to visit the competitors).

Originally, my easyjet ticket didn't confirm/book, so we spent quite a bit of time assuming I was on the same flight as Steph and Gil. However, we discovered a few months before that, I had not actually received any confirmation. We thought that this meant I would miss the trip, but after quick scan of cheap airlines I was able to find a flight leaving about ten minutes after their flight and at relatively the same price. So while we left at approximately the same time, we were on different flights there and back (Steph and Gilberto came back on Monday, while I came back on Sunday). Anyways the the three of us went to the airport together early that morning and met up again 2 hours later in Belgium.

Now, the people in Belgium were much nicer than the people in Ireland...North Ireland, I should specify. For example, we took the train from the airport to downtown Brussels and when the ticket collector came he told us that we were, mistakenly, sitting in first class. When we made a move to switch seats he told us not to worry, he was running the whole show and it was fine by him. Hell. Thats even nicer than the people in Switzerland. And France. And well..most people who work on trains are jerks out right.

Anyways upon arrival into downtown Brussels we wandered for a bit - stopped inside a gift shop - then got waffles. Because seriously, how can you go to Belgium and not get waffles? Or french fries (turns out they invented them). We were mostly hanging around that morning in the city square waiting for Ine. A friend of ours (who Gilberto had met initially) who had lived at the foyer until January. As we stood around the square we watched a bunch of Thai performing artist (? -- assumption) bring materials and such into wherever they would be performing, we marveled at the architecture, and we picked up a gift for Ine who was letting us stay at her brother and sister's student house for the night. And then suddenly, admist all this gazing, I looked over to my left to see Ine running towards us - the trip could begin!

Ine gave us a quick tour of Brussels, including bringing us to mannequinpis (or whatever that guy peeing is called). He was dressed in army clothes (aparently he has over 300 costumes... and I can't help but wonder if they ever don't clothe him). The army get up was for some sort of festivities that were occurring that day. Some sort of veteran thing as all these old men with crazy mustaches were crowded within that little square. We gawked at the insane facial hair before moving to have hot chocolate in this art-nouveau type building where enjoyed a pretty great view of the city. Following our hot chocolate and dime tour of Belgium we hopped a train and headed for Gent - a cute little University town where Ine had arranged for us to stay (in her brother and sister's apartment). Ine and Steph spent a couple of hours wandering Gent while Gilberto and I checked out a castle. We were given the audio tour, which was actually a big ol remote thing with a screen showing some movie that they had made to explain the history of the castle. Unfortunately it was too long, kind of boring, and really distracting - so I turned it off after a couple of chapters and Gilberto and I wandered through the rooms trying to appreciate its history despite our ignorance.

Now I can't remember if it was in Gent or Belgium, but at some point while wandering streets with Ine on our way to cute little pub, we realized that street music performances were in full force - more festivities, imagine! Anyways, our favourite, was by far, or at least my favourite by far, was a pretty large band with hippy arty super cool looking peoples playing trumpets and large marching band type instruments. They were a lot of fun, jumping up and down and dancing with the crowd that had gathered - including a little boy who kept wandering near them.

That night Gilberto and Ine went to a party while Steph and I hung back. We hadn't brought bed sheets or sleeping bags and thus spent most of the night trying to figure out what to use to keep ourselves warm as there were not sheets - including covering ourselves with pillows. Needless to say it was a cold night - but one that brought the next morning and a day trip to Bruges - a gorgeous, small but touristy town in Belgium. We spent the day in Bruges doing a walking tour that Ine had printed off for us (not a tour with guides - just a suggested walk that she found on their tourism website). While there we also ate french fries - which apparently were invented in Belgium and are therefore some sort of...I duno, national snack. Apparently Tin Tin is also a Belgium creation. Imagine. All these great things from one little country. Gilberto and Steph took me back to Belgium, where they would spend the night and the next day, while I headed back to Geneva to work on Monday. I was certainly upset to leave so early as Belgium is a really cool country, and one that seems to be calling me to return. But until then, I have these great memories, and of course, a photo blog:

attack in black

2008-06-03T00:05:00.000-07:00

I know I'm pretty far behind on the blogs (still have to comment on: Belgium, Justin and Vic's arrival, Paris, parent's visiting, soon Barcelona, etc etc) but I could not continue without commenting on this. Which almost half takes care of the parent blog. But...not really.

Anyways, when my parents came to visit, one night we went out to dinner with a group of friends and co-workers. At dinner I encouraged my mom to tell family stories (which I realized are funnier to us than to others who don't know the other strange members of our family with staring roles in these stories). One of the stories my mom told was about my "childhood" obsession with Batman (I put childhood in air quotes because I'm sure the new batman trailers make me want to pee my pants, and I'm pretty sure I have Prince's Batdance song downloaded on my itunes). She explained how I would wear my Adam West batman cape around the house (all the time I might add. Man I loved that fucking cape). Anyways, after dinner, Justin asked about the story because he had missed most of it. My dad started repeating the story, but as he was telling him that I thought I was batman he got a little flustered changing the gender and species - batgirl, catgirl, and eventually blurting out - batcat!

Well Justin and I ate it up, we loved it. We walked home discussing batcat and batcats various super powers. Moving from flying and scratching out people's eyes, to being a laser cat with bat wings and a scorpion knife. I spent two weeks telling Laura to draw me up as batcat "batcat is me dressed as batcat" I would tell her. Until eventually, until today, I woke up to the most amazing thing I've ever seen. Batcat. Me. As batcat.

I then decided that Laura would be my sidekick because it was predetermined by fate.

You see last year after watching a Family Guy skit with Mayor Adam West using a cat launcher against the pizza delivery man, then picking up the cats and ridiculing the cat Paul for having a ridiculous name, I nicknamed Laura - Paul. Because she's ridiculous. Like a cat named Paul.

Look at how amazing this is. I am batcat by virtue of my childhood obsession with Adam West's batman. Adam West who said Paul was a ridiculous name for a CAT. Therefore, Laura is now "Paul Sexy-fingers" my sidekick. She doesn't know it yet though. But I imagine her wearing mittens that have the fingers cut out, and having a cat face (not ears like me) and a utility belt to hand me my weapons (including my trusty scorpion knife) with her sexy hands. I smell a comic book deal. Then a movie. Staring Angelina Jolie as me, Scarlett Johanson as Laura, Tony Soprano as my dad, and Kitty from that 70's show as my mom. Adam West will have a cameo.

POST EDIT

Laura is now Paul Sexy-Fingers.

Now we just need a mission!

You look like I need a drink

2008-05-22T09:40:00.000-07:00

I've fallen quite behind on the blog, apologies.

Last month, Gilberto, Steph and I began an what would be an onslaught of weekend trips. In four weeks, we would travel three times, leaving only one weekend free for rest. Otherwise, our work week would end with us packing and waking up incredibly early to catch a plane - or would end with us scrambling to get our shit together so that we could rush ourselves to the airport.

Our first excursion was to Belfast (Northern Ireland) and Dublin (Ireland), where we had two incredibly different experiences in each city.

Just before boarding the plane to Belfast on the Friday, I brought out a handy little bottle that Katherine had lent me. Both of us are deathly affraid of flying, so she had lent me her "Bach's Rescue Relief Spray". A small bottle containing a liquid that tastes vaguely of rubbing alcohol, that is supposed to calm you down should you be in a situation where you would need calming. Now you're supposed to take a couple of sprays, but Gilberto really wanted to spray it, and because of the amount I flinched, I got about 9 sprays. I'm not sure if it worked though. We were sat at the very back of the plane, one of the most fearful places for me - I mean you can see the plane tip up and down and move and hear all the noises - no no, I much prefer the middle. So it seemed that my fear during this flight was not entirely appeased by this special spray. Though I'm sure it was brought down a notch. And I think Gil could have used some - he seemed really closterphobic in the back, so there was him freaking out and me freaking out - well...hey..wait..why didn't Steph freak out?? Oh yeah. she was asleep. sheesh.

Anyhow, moving on, I suppose our arrival into Belfast should have served as an indicator for how the rest of the day was going to go. We sat at the back of the plane, surrounded by big Irish guys missing teeth and speaking funny. Actually, the entire flight staff spoke funny. In fact, everyone in Ireland speaks funny, they kind of remind of the Sweedish chef from the muppets with the mumbles and the slurring and the awkward speech that makes no sense. Anyways just after we landed, the three of us were speaking and kind of rustling in our seats, maybe even talking to those giant Irish guys about it being our first time there, I don't know what the context of the conversation was but I said 'Oh well, my last name is Herlihey, maybe I'll be okay' to which I received an angry grunt of a reply 'this is the North'. I guess it should be noted that the Herlihey's come from County Cork, which is in Ireland, and pretty far south. I suppose the last name is more well known there and I quickly learned not dare speak it while in Belfast unless I wanted my teeth knocked in.

The airport, in general, proved to be difficult. After the incident with the rude plane passengers, we had to wait for Gilberto to be questioned the hell out of at customs because he didn't have his work permit - I guess a valid passport and an address as to where you're staying isn't enough. These people wanted to see every document we could possibly provide - because - heaven forbid, we fell in love with their runt of a city and wanted to stay there longer as squaters. And again, just as we were about to leave the airport we decided to check out car rentals, only to get the run around until they finally told us that they don't rent to kids under 24. Belfast was pulling out all the stops, and we'd only been inside the airport.

Needless to say, Belfast, in general, is a sore spot. So lets try to get through this as fast as we can so that the memories of that godforsaken town are rehashed as quickly as possible and then subsequently memories of Belfast are just as quickly repressed.

Point form people, point form:

We spent nearly two hours walking to get to the Titanic dock (the only thing worth seeing in Beflast) to wind up at a garbage dump. I got pissed, I got blisters, I got us a ride - from the only nice guy in all of Northern Ireland.
It is illegal to drink outside in Belfast. I know right. Of all places in Europe where it is illegal to drink outside, its fucking Belfast, N. Ireland. And the people aren't exactly kind to tell you so.
Apparently people in Belfast can read your mind, you can walk up to a bouncer to ask a question and be told 'no' before you even open your mouth.
According to one drunk N. Irish chick, I'm 'hot as fuck'
Belfast lacks its own culture...only reason I can see why there are so freaking many North American chains there... including Tim Horton's.
Guinness tasted like crap in Belfast...though that could have just been me trying to get used to it
It rained, and I wore Vans, and didn't bring extra socks, I was hobbling along the streets by the end of the day
Kids in Belfast are fucking strange. Like, they don't look like scene kids, they look like anime characters and hang out at Burger King. They wear moon boots and have tokyo hotel hair. During the day they hang out near the water. They are strange. STRANGE I tell you! STRANGE (i don't understand them young'ns...sheesh I'm getting old)

Anyways, we spent about a day in Belfast before getting the heck out of there and heading south to Ireland to visit Dublin.

Unfortunately we didn't have much time in Dublin, but we did have enough time to check out a series of pubs in Templebar, a popular hot spot in Dublin, renowned for its authentic pubs and bars. The streets are literally lined with them. We visited three pubs while there. The first pub boasted a live band that played traditional Irish folk music (complete with fiddles). The place was crowded with people young and old, everyone yelling over each other, enjoying the music, and just having a great time in general. The band finished one set and we finished our pints of Guinness (or rather I shared Steph and Gilberto's pints) and we moved on. The second bar was more traditional, but also packed. As we walked around and settled we noticed that in the streets and bars there a lot of groups of young women dressed completely ridiculously. I think when we finally saw one group walking around with a blow up penis we clued in that these various groups were bachelorette parties that seemed to take over all of temple bar. The second bar played modern music, and some how we were sound enough of mind to remember the title of one song (which we asked a fellow patron for) to download when we returned to Geneva. We didn't stay at the second bar very long, but instead moved on to a third pub, which had a guy playing guitar in the corner - 90's classics - to a group of incredibly rowdy and drunk Irish peoples. And Scottish. And American. And well, he went through the list a few times - lets just say the group was diverse.

Gilberto was quick to make friends with the guitar player, who had the crowd jumping and singing and dancing the entire time. It was a great atmosphere and certainly proved to us quickly that not all of Ireland is full of bitter assholes (just Belfast) - but rather, Ireland is a place where you can have a good time with some very awesome people. Once the guitar player finished his set, and after I practically forced Gilberto and Steph out of the basement club they found (we had to get up early and I apparently took on the 'parent' role for this trip) we left and headed back to the hostel - but not without stopping to get some ice cream and have a completely incomprehensible conversation with an Irish couple (incomprehensible because of their accents....and alcohol intake). Everytime the girl would talk, Steph and I would look at each other and laugh - we seriously had no clue what she was saying. Slurred Irish accents - certainly the best thing you'll ever hear out of someone's mouth.

The next day, due to swollen feet / blisters (oh gee, that doesn't happen ever *cough cough Paris circa 2007*) I decided to forgo Steph and Gilberto's walk around Dublin and instead took a city tour bus. It was cold on top of the double decker, but totally worth it as I got to see most of Dublin and learn about its history. It turns out Dublin is a place with a lot of history outside the bars and Guinness brewery (which we unfortunately did not get to see). I later navigated my way (aka asked the bus driver) back to the main bus station to meet Gilberto and Steph, where we boarded a bus back to friggin' Belfast where we quickly hopped a plane and got the fuck out there! But not without eating at a trusty Subway first...I didn't get sick though, and I maintain it was because of my drug intake (tylenol and rescue relief spray).

We returned home, tired, sober, and me with a new pair of Guinness socks and a bag full of bandaids and blister care.

Moral of the story: don't wear Vans while traveling the rainy UK.

Photos:

Me terrified on the plane, because Gilberto was using electronic devices when they specifically told him not to!

Steph and I wandering the streets of Belfast. I think we are desperately looking for a place to eat / a bar - but when Steph went up to one she was told 'no' before we even asked the question. Then they said they weren't going let us in because Gilberto was drinking a beer in the street, which was illegal. Then they were rude. Then we left.

Gilberto unknowingly breaking the law

Tim Hortons - IN EUROPE - freaking expensive though!

The horror! The horror!

The EasyJet in flight magazine suggested we went to this small restaurant in Belfast. They didn't tell us how rude they would be when we decided to order a side of Soda Bread.

After spending quite a bit of time walking down a derelict street in Belfast, I finally got pissed and decided to hitch hike my way out of there. We were supposed to be seeing the titanic dock, but after an hour of walking (with blisters) all we had seen is abandoned ship yards and garbage dumps. Finally George, the nicest man in Northen Ireland - who runs/owns a small tour bus and who runs/owns a b&b - came by and drove us to the Titanic dock, and then back to the city - where we went straight to the pub to have some Guinness - see below.

Apparently this fish thing is a tourist attraction in Belfast. That and creepy anime character scene kids.

One of our last stops in Belfast - a church.

Gilberto, Steph, and a bunch of drunks from Scottland. Belting out the 90's classics!

The guitar guy - doing his thing.

Another Weekend in the City

2008-04-28T12:28:00.000-07:00

I downloaded the new Cut Copy album, "In Ghost Colours" and pretty much fell in love with it as soon as I heard it. Its fun and perfect for Spring / Summer. The song currently on my blog "Far Away" is my favourite off the album, by far. I keep dancing to it alone in my room, secretly wishing Caroline was with me so that we could dance together and call out names of people we know / watch at Absinthe and dance like them. Or I dance to it at my desk at work when I'm sure no one is looking. Although, once, Francesca called me out and caught me dancing at my desk. I tried to deny it, but she was certain I was doing it. I can't help it I guess.
I got my ear pierced (my helix) on Saturday. I was determined to do it a month ago, but got a bit worried about karma. Apparently I've become a huge paranoia nut in the past few months. Anyways, Jean, Nadia and Emma finally, and collectively, convinced me to get it done during our staff pic nic. And we made plans to do it. And then Saturday came and I did it - and Jean paid for my ring as a birthday present - which was awesome of her and much appreciated by me (even though I spent most of the time feeling guilty and trying to convince her not to do it). It bled a lot - like a lot more than usual. Apparently if a piercing there bleeds it only releases one big drop of blood. If it bleeds two - then thats pretty unusual. The piercer said I had 10. And then more when I cleaned it at home. I had blood on my shirt. This freaked out Bec to hear, but I was pretty nonchalant about it - just wanted to make sure that it wouldn't fuck up the healing process. Apparently they hit a tiny vein and once the bleeding stopped I should be fine so long as I kept up the normal cleaning regimen. My mom was somewhat pissed at me when I told her. But in this strange 'I don't actually give a fuck' way. She got a new stint put in and I was asking her if she was ok - like profusely (see, paranoia) - and she was like 'yeah yeah I'm fine I'm going to the mall and dropping off Frankie at the bus stop and maybe I'll go get my ear pierced'. Then she started laughing hysterically at the idea of her coming to Europe with her ears all pierced up. I didn't quite get the joke. In fact I think its pretty suiting. MOM GET YOUR EAR PIERCED, NO NO, MOM GET YOUR LIP PIERCED - I KNOW YOU ARE READING THIS....HI MOM! Anyways then my mom tried to convince me that I was going to have a hard time finding a job because I keep doing weird things. I reassured her though that I'm actually pretty tame and that the jobs I'm going for are going to want people more nuts than me. Then I told her that she should just take solace in the fact that I'm her weird and strange kid who's really creative and out of the box - you know the one who had imaginary friends and watched Batman all the time, and who shaved half her head and pierced her ears and wears stupid sunglasses and ugly sneakers. To which she said 'ok I'm going now, talk to you later, oh strange and creative one'. Its all funny and cute, because I'm pretty tame and my piercing are incredibly pedestrian. But, nonetheless, despite it all, I'm happy with the piercing because now the side of my head that is shaved has a piercing. (in the photo, top, my new piercing, the bottom photo is my old piercing)
Speaking of sunglasses, I've started a week long project of cleaning my room. I say week long because I have a ton of laundry I have to do which I can either get done at 1 in the morning or 6 in the morning - depending on if I want to sleep in or if I want to stay up late (hoorah). Anyways I noticed that my two favourite pairs of sunglasses are broken. I took a picture of me wearing them one last time before trashing them (actually I'm keeping the white ones with the hope I can get them fixed) but I'm in serious mourning over the black aviators. They were pretty rad.
We have a holiday Thursday, which is exciting. I don't know what I'm going to do. I go to Paris the next day so maybe just pack and clean and go in the sun, provided the sun is out.
Friday we had a staff cleaning day. This meant no computers - except to play music. This meant getting in trouble if you were doing work. This also meant enjoying the day outside for a bit, having a pic nic, complete with catered sandwiches, cake, and a pic nic blanket. Pretty much the best day of work ever. Pretty much should happen all the time.
Friday night we went to Electro night at Usine. Originally we were going to go to reggae (which happens to be my moms new favourite past time) but, although I had fun at the last reggae night, I was aching to go to electro (nerd - i like robot music, or just robots). Anyways we didn't stay long, and called it in early and sober. Which was nice, but all our traveling is certainly catching up to us. We can't hack normal weekends. Anyways while I was supposed to be getting ready to go to Usine, or while I was supposed to be cleaning my room - one of the two I'm sure, I got distracted by the neighbours across the street. There is this couple in the apartments opposite me, who are kind of boring. My window looks into their living ("and I spend the afternoon on top of you") The guy is always in grey boxer briefs, his girlfriend is always in a t shirt and pants, and they are usually smoking on the balcony. They have a big gong in their living room and red couches. But they never hit the gong. Sometimes they watch tv or sleep on the couches. Once the guy was doing push ups and I thought he was 'doing' something else. Anyways in comparison to the Asian guy across the street who usually takes photos of himself while on the internet, and who spent 10 minutes yesterday flailing his arms back and forth (exercise or something I'm sure) and who was in a tux getting ready for some big even earlier in the week - in comparison, this couple is pretty boring. But this couple is in full view and everyone can see them. Neha lives on the fifth floor and has an excellent view into their window - so she knows what a bore they are but also how accessible they are. So anyways, Friday while I was supposed to be doing something that didn't involve me being at my window, I looked over and noticed that the guy was doing some strange jerking dance movements in front of the tv while the girlfriend or wife or whoever sat on the couch and idly watched him. I was mildly intrigued, I mean, who just sits there while their loved one has a seizure in their fucking underwear? Their blinds were half closed and so I had to reposition myself and tilt my head to get a better look - when I noticed two white controllers in the guys hands and that he wasn't dancing, he was punching. So it turns out, the boring couple got a Wii. And they like to play in their underwear. Life by the window just got a bit more interesting.
Saturday and Sunday were gorgeous - in the 20s. We walked around quite a bit (the EAA girls and Steph), got gelato and such. Steph and I pretty much spent most of Sunday in our rooms, trying to enjoy the weekend and such, but did venture out before it got dark to get more gelato at our favourite place- which had a 15 minute line up...totally worth it though. Mango gelato people, best stuff out there, ever!
We wound up at some guys apartment Friday night before going out - we didn't stay long, but were incredibly entertained while there. Lets just say mannequins, wigs, fur coats, and political/fashion debate were all in full force. Thats all I have to say about that.
I finally gave a listen to An Horse - very good. Highly suggested to you that you check out 'company'....whoever YOU are.
Steph's fiance and sister are coming tomorrow. I'm on the look out for friends to hang out with me and watch Hip Hop Love Story with me. I feel like if Caro or Zach were here, that this would be the point in which one of us said "a wittle wronwry'.
I'm still dancing to Cut Copy...alone...in my room... because I'm that cool. "and you can be a love to me, but i was far awaaaay - do do do dodo do dodo do"

up the cuts

2008-04-23T07:09:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Gilberto and I went to Zurich for web training. Our organization's soon to be new website was developed by a company in Zurich and the day was to be spent learning the ins and outs of the content management system they had set up.

Firstly, I think it is highly important to mention how much of a complete and utter nerd I am. I was ecstatic about working on the new website. Partly because I am sick and tired and frustrated with our current system, which is beyond out of date, beyond tedious, and beyond slow. And partly because I knew the CMS they were using - generally - and really wanted to see all it could do. I was impressed by it to say the least; everything is integrated and works wonderfully (with the exception of a few bugs and plugins to be complete). For a webmaster, it certainly makes my job easier to be using such a powerful CMS. Anyways, enough computer crap.

As mentioned, Gilberto and I spent the day in Zurich for training. However, since we have the Voie 7, once training finished, we couldn't go home for about 2 and a half hours - at least not without spending 40 francs, that is. We had somewhat decided that we should spend that time getting my hair cut in the city as there was a really cool salon that had opened the last time we were in Zurich. We wandered around for a bit, finally deciding (or finally being convinced by Gilberto's enthusiasm) that I was going to go through with some crazy new age mullet that was Tegan Quin (see twin on left) meets Gilberto Lontro hair design.

Upon entering the amazingly cool salon (large Zebra print arm chairs, all I'm gonna say) we were greeted by an uber cool hairdresser - who spoke a lot more German than she spoke English. We told her I wanted my hair cut, she said ok. We told her we wanted to explain it first. She asked if we wanted to see the book - and considering how we wanted it done, we immediately refused and launched into an explanation. It went like this:

DANA: uh, ok, this side (pointing to side of my head) - to be short, like this (pointing to Gilberto's head). And the bangs (pointing to bangs) the same - long, like this
HD: (agreement)
GILBERTO: This side (pointing to other side) long, with this piece (holding piece of my hair that frames my face) really long and this one (other piece on other side) long too but shorter than this one. One should be long and one should be short
DANA: the back should be really long. keep the back really long.
GILBERTO: On this side, short near the ear, but then it comes back long. so it goes up short, then comes back down long.
DANA: The back needs to be long.
GILBERTO: the top short
DANA: but the bangs long
GILBERTO: and the back, at the top, really short
DANA: But the back should be long. just short on top, but long at the back.

After a few more moments of us grabbing at pieces of my hair and explaining them, all while our hairdresser looking at us somewhat dumbfounded the entire time, she agreed and led me to the back to wash my hair. I was nervous a bit at first when she took out the razor blade and made her first swipe - somewhat laughing at me. Gilberto was loving it and seemed incredibly excited by the prospect of me having this ridiculous hair style. It was strange being nervous by the hair cut as I've never been upset or worried about cutting my hair before. So that was a new experience.

Now, I suppose Gilberto and I weren't all that clear with our instructions. Each time she went to cut a piece of hair she asked, or clarified what I wanted. 'this side, short, like him?' - I would reply yes. However, it eventually got to the point when she would ask and I would be like 'uh yeah ok' and she would turn to Gilberto and ask him. He would say yes or explain what he thought should be done, and away she would go hacking at my hair while I just sat in the chair. I think she stopped asking me, and would just turn to Gilberto like he was my personal stylist or boyfriend or owner to make sure he liked what she was doing to my head. At one point, while working on my side piece, she told me she was going to make my hair taller. Language barriers are kind of fun sometimes. I had no clue what she meant by that - making my hair taller - it could have meant shorter or thinner or she could have decided to give me a mohawk - but she was so certain that she had gotten the word the correct that I didn't have the heart to tell her that I had no idea what making my hair taller meant. So I said 'yeah ok, great'. I think she just thinned the piece out.

At the end of it, I was pretty estactic. I finally had the mullet I always wanted. And at the end of it, Gilberto was equally excited. I finally had the mullet he always wanted. Actually Gilberto was excited throughout the whole thing and documented the hair cut on his iphone. Cue photo blog.

keep the car running

2008-04-17T05:22:00.000-07:00

point form updates:

I'm learning how to configure Wordpress so that I can use it as a CMS. I'm making small strides, but proving myself to be a pretty huge nerd by how excited I get when I figure certain things out. There are a lot of notes left for me to read, but I'm enjoying how dumbed down they are and how well I'm getting it. I think its coming down to figuring out the best plugins for what I want it to do. If I get desperate enough, maybe I'll brush up a bit more on my php and write my own - but thats doubtful.
Steph and I have become addicted to Battlestar Galactica - but to ensure we don't embarrass ourselves when talking about it in public, we tell people we're watching "Hip Hop Love Story". Our neighbour Alex was in the hallway while Steph, Bec and I were discussing the show, and we apologized in advance if the noise from us watching the show was too loud. He asked what we were going to watch, we told him the fake name and mentioned that if he hears explosions its because they use a lot of pyrotechnics during the hip hop dance offs. I don't think he understood what the hell we were going on about.
This is what people from Belfast sound like: http://youtube.com/watch?v=O7CdEFXGK_w
and more accurately (I actually heard someone say 'she's up the duff' while I was in Belfast):
http://youtube.com/watch?v=u54_V7PMgvo
Laura and I have been in discussion about making a real go at our freelance when I get back. I'm hoping it happens
My parents are visiting in May!

Alex is visiting a week after them!
I'm really hoping there isn't a thunderstorm when I fly out of Geneva (to Brussels) on Saturday.
If you use firefox, download the PicLens plugin. Its pretty terrific and a lot of fun. If you don't use firefox, then get on the trolley! You can use PicLens for other browsers, but seriously, why would you EVER use another browser? Anyways, go here: www.piclens.com to get it.
I don't know what I was listening to before I started listening to the Kills, but I'm addicted. For this week, at least.
I desperately want to get tickets to Paleo, but I think they sold out in a day. I can't believe Justice would be so close, yet so far. ugh.
My cd drive is broken. I can't burn cds or watch dvds. This is balls and needs to be fixed asap. I'm tempted to take my macbook apart myself and re-align the hardware - pretty sure its just a little jangled. But I'm scared of ruining it.
I downloaded adium to use instead of MSN. It's pretty good. There are features I like, like have all chats within one window. and the design. And the use of growl.
My mom is in the Caymen Islands and likes to call me to tell me that she is in Paradise. Its cute.
I need to figure out the best way to clean my MacBook - if you have suggestions, let me know.
I'm going to Ikea today for cheap food and shoe shopping.
This is a really cool video: http://youtube.com/watch?v=pVYp2sgA9M0
I went to an IT meeting this week that lasted a pretty long time. It was mostly about budget. I wasn't 'excited' by the meeting per se, but I think I got more out of it than I did last time I went. I'm starting to kind of understand how these things work. But if it was up to me, I'd just spend all my time playing on the computer trying to make things. I like doing that, I wish I was a bit more capable, but I'm willing to learn, or continue learning. I have fun making things on the computer. I think I just like to create. and shiny things.
Linda gave us all condoms from her trip to New York. I wonder if its a hint that maybe Gilberto and I's joke about being in a inter-office relationship has gone too far
I've been getting a strange amount of anxiety recently. I think its related to flying.
It's raining right now, but its been gorgeous. Flowers are out, trees in bloom, all that lovely spring stuff.
My ipod headphones that I bought off ebay broke within two weeks. I guess its suiting seeing as how I spent like 2 bucks on them, but frustrating because I don't have any headphones. Luckily I gave the dude a bad score before they were even shipped because he wouldn't cancel an accidental purchase I made. I told him I would retract my comment - but at this point, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want me to replace 'poor communication with customer' with 'sold me a shitty product - LIAR!'.

volare

2008-04-14T06:01:00.000-07:00

So my mom has been wondering when I'm going to write my blog about 'spending time with' her. I find it funny that I started this blog so that she could keep up to date with my doings and so that I wouldn't have to write out a trillion emails and so that it would be easier to share things like photos for example. a blog to fill her in, that was what this was about.

how am i supposed to fill you in, mom, if you were there?

granted, my mom isn't the only one reading, but I just found her whole 'so when you writing your blog about me' request rather hillarious. and cute.

so as always, where to start.

Well first of all, the whole purpose for the trip.... I guess I'm not entirely sure what it was. When I was home last, in December/January, I came home at a pretty unfortunate time, stayed during an incredibly tense time and left at even more intense time. It didn't feel right leaving and I even had extended my already extended stay an extra week. But mom told me I had to go, because if I missed seeing the Spice Girls in London she would be 'so pissed'. So I left, a little reluctantly, and a little with my tail between my legs because I was too scared to stay and too scared not to go back and finish my job.

Needless to say, after mom's surgery, my first thought was 'when the hell can I get home'. My dad wanted me to wait, wanted me to consider maybe coming home earlier and not just jumping on a plane for a week. After everyone had calmed down and mom had started getting on the mend and the chemo, and after I talked to and was encouraged by my cancer counselor to follow through with my initial idea (made even before the surgery results) that I would come home in March for a bit just to asses and hang out with chemo-head, I just started telling everyone I was going home in March, and it stuck and tickets were bought.

Because I had a couple of days off around Easter, my director and I chose a series of days that would allow me a good amount of time at home and somewhat save me from paying too much money back to the organization. I was pretty grateful how sympathetic everyone was in letting me take the days off (provided I followed suit with having my pay cheque deducted for the extra time - fine by me).

And so, come march 14, I was off on a jet plane back to Canada and the Herlihey clan for 10 days. Now it should be noted also, that I was delayed on my plane in London for 1.5 hours because a panel near the engine was broken - ugh, terrifying to hear that before a 7 hour flight. And there was also a bout really bad turbulence on the way over - so much so the couple beside me starting holding hands and I was thisclose to asking the guy to hold my hand too. Needless to say I was extremely happy to get off that damned plane (though I do like flying B.A very much) to see my mum and dad waiting for me.

The first couple of days back I spent mostly lazing about with my mom, trying to get over some serious jet /travel lag. We grocery shopped, watched television, went to visit Frankie on Sunday to get the scoop on the stripper she ordered, and pretty much just hung around for the weekend. At one point the three of us (mom dad and i) had dinner and mum and dad sat on the same side of the table and declared they were ammer'can - because thats what they do. It was terribly adorable and almost make me puke at how cute they could be.

On Monday we traveled down to Toronto to stay at my Aunt Tina's house for a couple of days. My mom was pretty proud because it was the first time she had driven the trip to the Russell house since her diagnosis. But it was either she drives, or little miss 'i don't have a license anymore because i let it expire over a year ago' drives and runs the risk of being arrested and not going back to Geneva because I'd be in jail. My Aunt and I tried to encourage my mum to eat fattening things and drink a lot of water, because her chemo was Tuesday and water helps open the veins. Speaking of chemo-head, Aunt Tina and I went to chemo with her on Tuesday which was, at times, a bit hard to do.

The thing about going to chemo that upset me was seeing how many people were there and knowing that they were all in for cancer treatment and thinking about what a bullshit disease it is. And then my mom decided that this time when I was just sitting there looking at these people having to brave their treatments, to tell me about her surgery and such and then get up and leave right as I'm on the brink to have her blood taken. Seriously. Then Aunt Tina came in after a half hour wait in the parking lot and told me that we were going to make funny faces at my mom while she had her tests done - my aunt tina is pretty awesome. Luckily we got there early, so mom was rushed through the chemo (not without a near fist fight between my aunt and the nurse that couldn't find a damned vein in moms hand) and we were out of the hospital in time for lunch.

Aunt Tina and Uncle Derek treated us to some pretty fancy-shmancy meals (I've been using that phrase a lot since Heidelburg, interesting) while I visited, all of which certainly beat the crap out of the...crap that we eat here. Though, Steph and I have become quite the masters of the foyer kitchen recently - just the other day someone said to us that they liked seeing what we were making because its always different, but, I digress.

For the ride back home I made my mom a cd. She decided at some point that 'what a wonderful world' was her favourite song of all time and played it on repeat to the extent that I get 'shania-syndrome' whenever I hear it. You know, the fit of rage I get when I hear Shania play because of the two months at Sunrise Records where that was all we were allowed to play and I wanted to punch a hole in the wall, rip out the speakers, and burn the cd player. But, mom was also partial to 'don't cha' by the pussycat dolls, and so for every eye twitching play of louis armstrong, came a fun sing along.

The rest of the week went by pretty quietly - my mom and I went to church like fifteen times because of easter and special masses, and I stayed a day in Hamilton to play catch up and see my second family - all of whom are doing well and make me miss them lots. A couple of days later they came to visit me at home and we had tea and Trish said some incredible Trishisms that had us laughing - and my mom (who insists she wasn't laughing AT Trisha, but that she was laughing at us laughing....sure thing chemo-head).

Easter was held at my Aunt's house where we had an easter egg hunt between 5 girls, the youngest one being 19 and one who is finishing up med school - because what's more fun than easter egg hunting? NOTHING. photo blog:

Kristina finding one of the last eggs.

Frankie and Lisa searching

Mom declaring Kris the winner of the hunt...sorry Alexa, i think that makes you 0 for 25

Aunt Tina cooking easter dinner - see above.

All in all, the time at home was well spent. It was good to spend some time with the family - and reflecting on that week has me incredibly pumped for when Mom and Dad come to visit me in May. HUZZAH!

saving days in a frozen head

2008-04-04T06:09:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm going to playing catch up with these blogs for quite some time. I'm really behind in a lot of work, so I guess it would be incredibly inappropriate if I was on time and up to date with blog entries but not with real life deadlines. This blog is on Heidelburg, but I have yet to comment on: Pin Nics in Geneva, My Easter at home with Chemo-head (aka mom), and the staff retreat. Amongst, of course, the random musings I should have interspersed throughout. Anyways, I guess I should spend less time procrastinating and making to do lists and just get to it.

Heidelburg, Germany. Where to start, where to start.

The intention for Steph and I to venture to this German ghost town was to appease my ever growing compulsion to constantly and always and forever listen to Tegan and Sara. For months I had the con on repeat, had downloaded and bought new music by them, finally succumbing to their terribly smart indy pop after a couple of years of resistance. It wasn't that i didn't like them before, it was just that I never had the opportunity or time to give them much more than a couple of spots on a ipod playlist. And the Con being the last album on my itunes before moving, well, I guess it just made me think of home a lot...and of course, its a brilliant record... seriously. I am happy I finally gave a chance to the band that Crystal tried for nearly 6 years to get me to listen to, and that Caroline forced down my throat during her 'I like folk music and will only listen to ani di franco and one tegan and sara song for a month' phase two years ago. And I really do enjoy the music they put out, I appreciate it a lot, and find comfort in it... I think that music, at times, can be a great source of comfort...and for whatever reason, when I was homesick after first moving here I found myself really enjoying their music. And as well, when mom got diagnosed, and I was out here feeling like I was by myself, I found that their music not only provided comfort but sometimes a distraction. So I guess I got a bit invested while being out here. And beyond the music itself, I do respect the girl's as artists and as musicians working in the industry. The integrity of their music has not faltered despite increasing fame, they've fought against and continue to blur and transcend boundaries and labels, and they've actively sought and built a healthy relationship with their fans that many bands rarely have the ability or the inclination to do.

Ok ok, seriously, enough ass kissing.

So because I had this new appreciation, when I found out that they were coming to Europe (after having initially missed them in the Summer) I quickly bought tickets. We chose the show in Heidelburg because Steph had a friend living there and because it was on a Saturday and because it was the closest place we could travel to by train...well, close as in, 6 hours away.

Now Steph having been to Heildelburg already - and knowing how small of a city it is- , combined with my knowledge of their accessibility to fans, lead to the general realization that there was a slight possibility we could meet the girls. However neither of us were willing to speak such a thought aloud. In part because we didn't want to jinx ourselves, and in part because I didn't want anyone to think I was a crazy stalker fan bent on meeting them.....erm...anyways.

When we arrived in Heidelburg, I quickly discovered how small of a city it was. It was about a ten minute walk to the downtown district, which was probably a half hour walk from our hotel - almost on the outskirts of town - which was about a 15 minute walk to the train station which was ten minutes to downtown - did you get all that? downtown consisted of one main street where all the shops were - after some snack buying and searching around american apparel and the like, steph and I wound up at the end of the main street, heading towards the venue about 5 hours early. Our plan was to maybe catch a glimpse of the band hanging around their tour bus. However, as we walked toward what seemed like a small city square, my attention was quickly directed towards a tiny little girl dressed in all black wearing pretty cool shoes and hanging with a tall blonde girl. The two seemed to appear in mid air, were suddenly in front of us looking at the Heidelburg map. As we walked by them, or stopped near them, we were very close nonetheless, I pointed them out to Stephanie saying something along the lines of 'what do you think of that little girl?'.

Now, Steph, for some reason, had no clue what I was talking about. She seemed confused and later admitted that a) she thought I liked her shoes and b) she didn't possibly think it could be tegan and or sara because they weren't together, and weren't they always together? and c) the girl I pointed out, as we approached from behind/side looked about 14 years old because she was so incredibly tiny. And of course I said 'what do you think of this little girl' quite loud, assuming that it was probably just some small German kid anyhow with a resemblance to the twins, so Steph just looked at me like 'what the hell are you talking about'. I on the other hand knew a couple of things to steer me into questioning whether or not the kid in front of us was actually just some German kid or was one of them - a) tegan and sara are tiny. they always seem taller or something on stage or in interviews but from what I had read, the girls are small. b) tegan and sara are pale As we continued our approach I noticed that this girl was in fact pretty pale - but with her hat covering most of her face and what would have been a tell tale hair cut and with a slight quarter of a profile to go off of, I actually didn't know. For some reason, most of the dawdling around the map is a blur, but I remember getting a good look at her shoes - but for the life of me I can't remember if I stood near her or just walked impossibly close by them. Anyways, Steph continued to walk towards the venue and I stopped her and looked back at the couple. After some hesitation, and while still quite near them (ie probably in ear shot), I told Steph to check her out while I went to look at the other side of the map. I did the whole 'we are here' while steph stood near their side of the map - and about 20 seconds later she shot over to my side to nod and tell me that it was them - she thinks - that she couldn't remember exactly what they looked like, but yeah, she looked at her and she's pretty sure - but she didn't know which one of them. by this time the two girls had left in the direction we had been walking away from in the first place, and I bounced up and down trying to figure out what to do.
"did she have a labret piercing?"
"i don't know, i couldn't see, it was quick"
"ok lets go"
and with that we started out behind them, quickly discovering they were going to the Heidelburg castle.
Now for some reason, maybe in an effort to ditch us, little-maybe-german-girl-or-maybe-tegan-or-maybe-sara and her girlfriend, decided to take the steepest entry to the castle. I was sick with a cold and was holding half an eaten chocolate ball and was suffering from pretty intense anxiety and was walking on a 90 degree angle and was so not impressed with that freaking hill. As we huffed and puffed our way up, we would stop when they would, trying to catch our breath or get rid of our chocolate balls which were undoubtedly weighing us down. At this point I still had no clue who the people in front of us were and was secretly hoping it wouldn't be one of them so that I wouldn't have to meet them all sweaty and out of breath and coughing up my lungs. They made it to the top and looked around, and Steph soon got there after them and eventually I made it up, just in time to see them walk away into another part of the castle. I didn't know who they were and at that point I was pretty sure I didn't care. I just wanted to sit down for a moment, fix my hair, and not be sick anymore.
Figuring that we lost them, Steph and I went to the other part of the castle (the only other part open and that we could get to) - which hosted several lookouts. I kinda grumbled that I thought we lost them, when Steph said 'no' and pointed them out. She asked me what I was going to do and I replied I don't know, what the hell should I do. She asked me if I was going to say something. And I said 'what the hell am I going to say, I'm not even sure its her...what would I say?' Again, I got nervous and stood somewhat frozen in one place. When they finally walked by us to get to the other side of the castle, I, for the first time, finally got a good look - and yup - it was Tegan....or ... Sara?
I had somewhat decided, based on deductions (wearing all black, has a girlfriend whereas I'm not sure whether or not Sara does) that this little girl was probably not a little German kid, but was Tegan - a part of me questioned that maybe it was Sara, but I had gotten a good enough look to believe it was one of them. I walked around the lookout where the other tourists were casually hanging, tried to take some picture, but the nervousness or excitement or something of it all was certainly getting to me. 'ok ok, lets go find them' I decided.
We walked through the castle a bit more, certain, again, that we had lost them. There was a museum, Steph mentioned, that they could have gone into. There was a lot more direction for them that we were somewhat outside the boundaries of the castle. I figured I had missed my opportunity - until, Steph with her amazing contacts (me without glasses) spotted them walking. We headed in their direction, but when they stopped to talk to someone, my stomach flipped and we walked right by, stopping a little while later, not completely outside of the castle but close enough to the road that would lead us back into the city.
Steph questioned what I was going to do - because if I wasn't going to do anything, then we should probably just leave and stop following them. BUT WERE WE FOLLOWING? Technically we didn't know, for half the time, like, we hadn't confirmed, it was them, and even as we stood there I still questioned it a bit. I imagined myself going up to some girl and telling her I was excited for her concert and then having her give me a totally blank look. Except we had, in our travels, around the castle heard them speak, so I knew they weren't German and that yeah, despite the nagging gut feeling that was probably just trying to stop me from making a fool of myself, it was probably her. I kept saying I didn't know what I was going to do. Steph urged me to go on or to make a decision and I kept trying to get her to wait, and eventually Tegan and her girlfriend walked by us again, down the road that would lead back to the city. We started up behind them, thinking that it was becoming painstakingly obvious that yeah, maybe we were following.
At some point down that road, they stopped, and Steph convinced me that this was a once in a life time chance and I either do it or not. So I marched down there, went up to Tegan and blurted "sorry for following you back there". I mumbled a few other things - excited for the show, congrats on the juno nomination, something else that she said thank you to - it last a total of ten seconds. She was incredibly polite, but not in the talkative mood, and considering what a bumbling fool I had become I was ok to just keep on walking, she told us to enjoy the sights, and Steph and I were on our way.
Then I turned back and asked for a photo - if they didn't mind, apologized quite a bit, pretty much came off like the nervous fool I knew I was going to act like. Tegan commented on my 'fancy shmancy camera' - and well after a couple of shots and some fooling with the settings, we were off - but with Tegan and her girlfriend now following us. We tried our best to shake them, because we didn't want it to seem like we were serious stalkers - just the novice / mild type - and went down a series of side streets, winding up back on the main street. Where, oddly, we saw them again, 100 feet ahead of us. A little ridiculous, but unplanned, and really goes to show how small that town is.

As we walked around Heidelburg, Steph contemplated getting a hair cut, but the salon was closing and as we walked down the street I started feeling incredibly sick and a bit feverish. I requested that we find somewhere for dinner so I could get some water and sit down. We found a small restaurant, and ordered food - of which I barely ate anything. As we were discussing the band, the concert, meeting Tegan (I felt a bit like an idiot for the whole castle thing and the whole sounding like a giant tool thing) and as this discussion went on, Steph looked out the window and commented "isn't that Sara" - and it was.

Around this time I had finally sent a few text messages out to Emma, Nadia, and Gilberto letting them know we had met Tegan (I had struggled getting connection to call Gilberto just after it happened)- as I knew they would be excited or at least feign excitement for our sake. And so I sent them another one as Sara walked by. And another one five minutes later when Tegan walked by.

I didn't eat much and our dinner ended quite short. We left and walked down the main street, and not more than two minutes later did Steph point out that we were headed right for Sara and the band. Deciding not to make a fool of myself like I had before, I went straight up to them (no sly walking around and spying this time) and apologized for interrupting and stated that we were excited for the show that night.
Sara was amazing. She asked us where we were from, what we did, and spoke about the language barrier in Europe. It was all pretty funny and light and I even got to embarrass Bec (who wasn't there) by sharing her story about messing up her french when talking about being excited for mountains. I didn't feel like a tool (maybe because I hadn't just walked up a ridiculous hill and maybe because I wasn't embarrassed for following a person around) and felt like Sara and the band were really personable. I don't know how to explain it..but it just seemed like a pretty natural conversation. We took a quick picture 'I'll get in the middle' (I didn't even hear her say that, but Steph says that she did), congratulated her on the Junos, and said 'well, see you in an hour'.
We walked away with two big smiles on our faces, Steph - although she won't qualify it was the best day ever since being here - was pretty fucking excited as well and kept saying how cool that was - and I nearly threw up - because I was sick or because I was so excited I don't know why. But really its me, I always feel like throwing up, so thats not new. Anyhow, it was pretty cool and really appreciated.

The concert itself was held in a tiny club, and we wound up just one or two people from the stage. Northern State opened for the band and put on an amazing show - seriously, people, listen to them. I was almost, ALMOST, happy enough just to see them. NORTHERN STATE. you won't regret it. Tegan and Sara did a great set and it was great to see them. They performed quite a few older songs along with most of the con. I was surprised by a couple of choices, but really happy that they played them because I found the live version of a song like 'i bet it stung' does it a lot more justice than the recorded version ever could. Furthermore, I'm happy that some of the songs got a bit of a change up for the liver version - living room obviously sounds more folky on record but live its got a great rock tone to it. as well, the con - the single - also had a different sound to it when they performed live. Its really a testament to the band when they can perform already great songs and change them up slightly so the audience doesn't feel like they're just listening to the album really loud. The banter was also pretty entertaining, however, Steph and I shot each other looks when Tegan began talking about walking around the Heildelburg castle and how it reminded her of following people home from the airport. Given the context of what she was talking about (relationships, her parents divorce) we didn't put too much weight on the fact that we had happened to kind of maybe possibly not totally intentionally (because we didn't know it was her for sure and because once you get up there there isn't really anywhere to go) followed her around that castle and decided that the two (her thinking of following people home from the air port, and us kind of maybe possibly following her around the castle) were totally unrelated. All and all, the show part, you know, the whole reason we were there, was great and didn't disappoint - if I had to do one thing over, I wouldn't have taken as many pictures, or I would have learned the settings on my camera for concert photos ahead of time.

Steph and I befriended some American's at (because that is what we do when we travel, all the time, no fail, befriend American's) who later gave us a ride to the train station - admist a playful argument over who was the better twin and discussion of Degrassi.
I also bought myself and Laura a t shirt, and I bought myself a poster. I later discovered that the t shirt was pretty snug, so Gilberto is now taking care of it until I can get in it and not have Tegan's face look all discombobulated.

Anyway, it was pretty great. and I think that, the whole day meant a lot because I had...I duno, been using music - and particularly their music - as a comfort blanket while shit was hitting the fan. I mean, I'm not delusional enough to ever say 'music saved my life' or 'music is my life' and its not as if the music is tailor made for me and its not as if I only listen to it when its dark and gloomy... But, it has provided an outlet, I guess. And to be able to see them in concert, or even say hey ' congrats on this, and im exicted for that' to actually be able to show some sort of appreciation well...its nice I guess, and maybe I sound like a bit of a nerd for saying so, but I'm pretty happy it happened.

and now that you have made it to the end of the blog, i reward you with photos.

Dana, Tegan, Steph

Steph, Sara, Dana
(I want to state that if I ever meet an artist again, I will probably not ask for a photo. I feel like you treat them like a landmark or something...maybe its just because we were in Germany, traveling, but still. I don't think I'd do it again)

Northern State

Tegan and Sara

Tegan

Sara

Gilberto in our Tegan and Sara shirt (he was in Turkey that weekend, and on Sunday the three of us met in Basel for the day - he wore the shirt on the train ride back)

I saute and flambee and puree from Broadway through Norway and the UK

2008-03-29T01:23:00.000-07:00

welcome to another edition of:
RANDOM CRAP FOUND IN GENEVA AND SURROUNDING AREAS CAPTURED ON MY CAMERA PHONE: SPECIAL FOOD EDITION

So usually this uh...featured blog is used to illustrate random and fun things I've found in Geneva and surrounding areas. Things that are spotted at times when I'm not acting like a tourist, things are completely different culturally or amazingly similar (as my one Brazillian friend put it 'thats the globalization for you').

This blog is special, because the random crap I'm about to show you is all food related. Now, Geneva doesn't have all that different food. You have your produce, you're overpriced meat, snacks that come in different packaging but are generally the same, and of course, your chocolate and your fondue. Nothing too special or culture-shocking. But sometimes, all it takes is the little differences to make something wonderful and blog worthy.

Quite possibly the strangest thing you will come upon in Geneva and surrounding areas, is the toothpaste-like mustard and mayonaise holders. Actually, toothpaste tubes are used to hold a lot of sauces and condiments here. At first its quite disconcerting to see. I mean, it looks rather industrial almost, and I was in fear of contamination. But, then you become in desperate need for a tuna sandwich or mustard on your hot dog and well...you get used to it, I guess.

Now I know that this doesn't look at all appealing...but I was speaking of hot dogs. And street meat, while costing about 5 francs (thats like, 5 dollars at home, the dollar and franc are practically on par) and while looking strange, taste quite great. Anyways, how they do street meat is interesting: Take a baguette, drill a hole in it, squirt ketchup in the bottom, put over sized hot dog inside - eat.

I suppose Easter is a big deal around here. No not because christ has died, christ has risen, christ will come again. Because of the sheer amount of Chocolate the Swiss get to make. Now see, before I left for Canada for my triumphant return home (for ten days) Steph and I went to Manor so I could pick up some presents (cough cough - chocolate presents). And on our way out we decided to get chocolate soup (remember, the melted chocolate bar that Europeans try to pass off as hot chocolate). Well while waiting in line at the chocolate counter (yes, that exists in a department store) I turn around to see Steph staring at a giant chocolate bunny - BIGGER THAN HER. She was in awe. I mean, she had spent quite a bit of time ping-ponging back and forth between little chocolate ducks with egg hats and chocolate roosters "oooh look at this, ooh lets get this! I want to eat that!", but nothing quite grabbed her attention and held her still like this GIANT EASTER BUNNY. I had to call to her about three times before she was shook out of her daze (note: none of this has been an exaggeration, NONE) That girl found a home here, she certainly loves her chocolate as much as they do!

Speaking of snacks, let us take a moment to appreciate the best snack in North America: Oreo cookies. Oh yes, how I love those chocolate cookies that are brought together in perfect harmony with unknown white stuff. I love them oh so dear. Just not enough to spend 14.55 CHF on them. YA HEARD ME. 14.55 for a package of DOUBLE STUFF. I know those things are good, but seriously?!?! 14.55? Now mind you, this was found in the "American Store" - a store that sells American foods and treats at ridiculous prices (like cans of rootbeer for 3CHF or chef boyardi for like a million francs). The prices are probably due to them shipping the food regular styles and not like, bulk styles. But for serious...its ROBBERY I TELLS YOU! Who knows how much these things are now with inflation. Sheesh!

Now not all food in Geneva and surrounding areas is remarkably overpriced. Why, for just under or around 10CHF you can get a whole plate of food! Delicious meatballs with jam and fries and dessert and refillable drinks! All you have to do is take a half hour train to the nearest Ikea!
Now here's a tip for you all when you're traveling to French euro countries. If you want a diet coke, don't order a diet coke - order a coca-light. Yes thats right. Now I don't know if its a lost in translation thing, but they just don't say diet coke or whatever the French translation is on the bottles we get at home. No they call it coca-cola light, and pepsi-light. However, if you are ordering or purchasing or even just talking about said soft drink, you don't call it coca-cola light, just call it coca-light. They know what you're talking about when you say it. When you say diet coke they just stare at you blankly. Kind of like how you would stare at me if I said 'coca-light'. Kind of like that, yeah.

Chocolate. Cheese. Hazelnut. Marzipan. These are what make up Swiss desserts / snacks. Such as this pretty awesome marzipan elephant that Jean picked up at a little shop in February.
Marzipan.
Elephant.
I think that says it all really.

something about airplanes

2008-03-18T10:55:00.000-07:00

I'm supposed to be cleaning my room so that Stephanie can live in it while I'm in Canada over easter. But instead I'm writing a blog to bring up to date all my Switzerland travels. This includes: Interloken / Jungfrau, Lugano / Lake Como, and Zurich.

INTERLOKEN / JUNGFRAU

On a whim, Harold and I booked tickets one Saturday to take a train up to Interloken and then to take a train from Interloken to the top of the Jungfrau - a mountain in the Swiss Alps. The majority of our day was spent on these trains, taking a few hours to get to Interloken then about an hour to get to the top of the mountain (the highest train station in Europe). The train ride to and from Interloken was absolutely breath taking, and the day itself was incredibly clear, sunny, just all around gorgeous. I feel the trip is best explained in photo blog form:

a photo from the train in Interloken. We're already pretty high up because you can see snow. once you get off in Interloken you're already on some pretty good slopes to go skiing. However we contuinued on from here and took a private train up to the top of the mountain.

Inside the Jungfrau there is an ice palace. Its incredibly touristy and Harold and I took full advantage of it.

Harold sliding around the ice palace. PALACE. I like that.

Just incase you forgot what country I'm in... not Sweeden people, not Sweeden.

Oh I'm just like paparazzi.

Harold and I ventured out on this ledge that was barricaded to grab some shots of the glacier. It was absolutely terrifying because of how far down the drop was. I have to say I'm somewhat impressed with myself for standing on it (it was wide, but scary as hell). I don't know if I think I'm brave or an idiot...probably both.

I LOVE MOUNTAINS!

Seeing as how we spent most of our time in the train I'm surpised that this is the only friend we made. Sleepy McSleeps-a-lot. He was entertaining...for obvious reasons.

LUGANO / LAKE COMO

This Could Be Anywhere in the World Why You'd want to live here
steph wrote this entry, my comments will be in blue - and first i'd like to point out that steph reads my blog a lot and has used some sort of song title and or lyric to title her entry on lugano and lake como - oh the influence.

Our weekend trip to Lugano/Como had a rocky start; well, for myself at least, not so much for Dana. I spent the night at a dance club, Shakers, while Dana slept like most other people would before a weekend trip. I returned home at 5am, showered, woke Dana up, (actually it should be noted that steph didn't wake me up, i went to her room at 545 because i over slept and had like 10 minutes to get ready, i had asked her to wake me up but with the whole 'i haven't slept brain mush' she forgot and walked right by room, that idiot) she told me I was an idiot and then we were on our way to catch the train at 6:15am. Lucky for me, Lugano was a 6 hour train ride away, so I was pretty much well and awake by the time we had arrived, with no regrets about the night before.

Of course, we did have one "mishap" along the way - even before we arrived in Lugano. What kind of trip would it be if something didn't go wrong? After transferring trains in Zurich, which was the half-way point to Lugano, we realized that somehow we had lost our train tickets. We were terrified and ready to plead guilty to losing our tickets and to beg for forgiveness - especially since we would likely get an 80franc fine on top of having to repurchase our Zurich-Lugano tickets. By some miracle of sorts, when the ticket collector came, we both looked at him with puppy dog eyes and fumbled through saying "We...umm...lost our tickets.....". To our surprise, he pulled out two tickets and asked "Did you come from Geneva?" and both of us said "Yes.." and he handed us our tickets, which he had found somewhere near the door where we had first come in. We were so relieved, and the people in the seats around us all seemed to think that we were pretty lucky.

We continued on our way to Lugano. The scenery was beautiful, especially as we got closer. It looked nothing like the rest of Switzerland, even though it had a mountainy landscape as well.

When we arrived in Lugano, we were ready to explore, but were mostly just interested in finding our hotel and grabbing some lunch. We walked out of the train station and were blown away by the mountains and lake just below. Unfortunately, the day was a bit hazy, so the view was not as clear as the brochure we grabbed along the way had indicated. *Insert jokes about us being nerdy multimedia kids and photoshopping ourselves into brochure images.* (I think im supposed to insert a joke here for her, or she just got lazy and didn't do one herself. There was much joking around at that point however, about needing to photoshop the background in so it looked as good as it did in the brochure - the picture bellow obviously demonstrates how terrific our photoshop skills are. I mean, we learned a lot in multimedia , its all about creating a seamless fiction my friends. you're jealous by my skills, i know i know)

Yeah. Anyways, we stopped to admire the palm trees, which made us think we were somewhere south, like Mexico. But, chilly Lugano would do. It would be a romantic Valentine's weekend regardless of the weather, we decided.

After settling in to our hotel, we left to find our lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant. I'm pretty sure this was the worst customer service we had ever experienced, with the exception of the burnt french onion soup that we had in Paris. Here, they laughed at us when we asked if they served lunch (apparently the word lunch is funny to Italians?), they "forgot" to serve us our 5franc waters, and they never said thank you/goodbye after we had gone up to pay. Sheesh.
Lucky for them, the food was good, so we couldn't complain (with fear that they would just laugh at us "Americans" anyways).

Steph, aka floozy, just had to have ice cream with booze in it.

We decided from here that we were going to go to the top of Monte Bre. We took the bus part of the way up, and then walked for another hour or so before we arrived at the cable car station. Unfortunately, our hopes of going to the top diminished there, as the cable car was not in service today or for the rest of the month. While we only got to see 1/4 of the mountain, the view was magnificent nonetheless.

We trekked back down and caught a bus to the shopping district where we grabbed an italian-style thick soup-like hot chocolate. Yup, those exist, and they're like drinking a melted bar of Lindt chocolate, which is pretty much the best thing ever. After that we decided we had had enough of the day and headed back to the hotel for a quick rest, which turned out to be a 2 hour nap. Oops. We woke up at 9pm and decided we should probably get some dinner. We walked along the shoreline looking for a restaurant that was recommended by the hotel, called the Pasta Factory. It was exactly as it sounded, plenty of pasta options. After dinner we called it a night and prepared for our departure in the morning.

The following morning, we checked out of our hotel and walked back to the train station along the shore. We took more photos along the way, of course. We were stopped by a hippie looking guy, who saw us taking photos and offered to take a photo of the two of us - and with his dog - together. We had a good laugh, and continued on our way.

We caught the train to Como and when we arrived (a 30 min journey) we realized that Como looked just like Lugano. Not that we could complain about that, both were quite beautiful. We had no idea what was actually in Como, all we knew was that George Clooney lived here. Well, some of the time, at least. So our mission became to find George Clooney's villa. We headed towards the downtown/lake and stopped at a gelato/pizza bar to grab our lunch. After lunch we thought we'd take a boat tour. I mean, if our friend George could afford a villa here, it would be on the lake, right? So we took the tour and presumed that every villa (there were too many to count) belonged to George.

After the boat tour, we decided we would try to find a working cable car so that we could get a birds eye view of the city. Well, we weren't disappointed this time. We caught a cable car up to the top and headed for the panoramic view that the signs had pointed out.

This was such a great ending to our romantic Switaly weekend. Just WOW. Seriously, these people live here!? They see this every day? Wow. The view was outstanding. It alone made the trip worth it. We stood up there for a good 15-20 minutes before we headed back towards the cable car. We knew that George would have chosen to live up here instead of by the lake, because of the view, of course. We both agreed that this is another one of those places we'll have to return to in the summer.

Photos from trip:

Me trying to wake up the Siwss flag so it could be in a photo with me...

For those confused about Switaly - its the Italian part of Switzerland. Its like saying Bennifer. Or Murich (you know, the offspring of Milan and Zurich)

The future Steph, complete with Leopard print.

Well...it would have been a picture of chocolate soup...but its a picture of finished chocolate soup.

Shore in Lake Como.

So this man came by while I was trying to wake up the Swiss flag and proceeded to take many photos of us..and his dog.

ME (and the fake Jet d'eau)

ZURICH

We made plans to spend the weekend in Zurich, from Saturday to Sunday. We were to get to Zurich relatively early, shop, get my ear pierced, have lunch, go to Johanna's friend's house, have dinner, etc etc.
A good portion of that didn't happen.
This is why:

The next morning we were feeling the effects. I woke up at 8, having gone to bed around 4 or 5, and attempted to wake up Steph. She came to my door and in a perfectly slurred voice, owed by both being awaken out of her slumber and the previous nights vodka intake, declared that she was still drunk. So I showered, trying to kill the pounding headache, went back to her door around 9, and she had effectively transitioned from being drunk to being hungover. So I said, yeah ok, sleep for two hours, we'll meet Gilberto and the others in Zurich in the afternoon. Around 11 I went to go get Steph, who was still sleeping. I asked her to call Gilberto as my cell phone had no money on it. She said 'oh yeah okay' handed me her phone and went back to sleep while I stood in her doorway. I said 'for serious? you call him' and she did. or I did. I don't remember. Pounding headache and all. Either way one of us spoke to Gilberto and discovered that the only people in Zurich was Johanna and Sandra. We, the three stooges had all slept in and were still lulling about the foyer. So we packed ourselves up and finally got our lazy asses on the train. Steph and I slugged around complaining of being tired, struggling to keep our eyes open for the most part. I think we all slept on the way there.

The three hour train to Zurich was not enough sleep for us. We spent that Saturday in Zurich (steph and I, at least) trailing behind Johanna and Gilberto talking only to say 'ugh, im so tired' or to count the amount of teens wearing kafeyahs (I think I got to about 33 before stopping, scene kids aren't even scene in Europe, they're standardized and mass produced - the shock and awe wears off pretty fast and pretty soon they just look like a group of annoying kids that seriously need their hair straighteners confiscated and an introduction to neutral colors 101) When we finally made it to the (amazing!) apartment where we would be spending the night, I could hardly believe my luck - couches! television! cheese! Everything necessary to make for a comfortable night in...

I was somehow encouraged off the couch and out of my MTV induced trance - and brought into downtown Zurich where we enjoyed a great dinner. Unfortunately I was branding myself the tired-girl, as I couldn't stop yawming. I stuck it out though, and was quite pleased that the bar we wandered into after dinner had a live band. Live music is certainly lacking in Geneva, especially in the quantities I'm used to. The bar was tiny and crammed but boasted a Jimmy Hendrix tribute band complete with a total 'stuck in the 70's wannabe jimmy hendrix' - followed by another band that did covers songs spanning the 80's - early 90's.

After finally leaving on our way back to Klotten, we were standing around the train station when it was mentioned that there was a night supplement fee you'd have to pay to get on the train. Gilberto, Steph and I shrugged our shoulders at it - the notice was written in German and we had our vois 7 - the after 7 card that lets your ride trains in switzerland fro free from 7pm - 5am. However, once on the train, traveling the four stops it took us to get to Klotten, we were approached by a ticket conductor on a power trip who decided that the couple hundred francs we shelled out for the card wasn't enough. Nope, we were also supposed to pay the night supplement fee - you know, that German sign told us! We should have known! As if anything in Switzerland is actually free, forget what it says on your card or contract, that vois 7 isn't valid if you look like a tourist and can't speak enough German to talk yourself out of a ridiculous fee. Even those sitting beside you who can speak German, yelling at the train conductor for acting like a giant prick won't be able to change the rules for you - nope, give em your name and number kids because apparently you handed over 2 bills for nothing. Don't you know you paid all that money so that you can buy tickets at night just like the rest of them? DIDNT YOU KNOW THAT? Just a fancy shmancy card with your name on it that does you no good if some huge jerk decides that he doesn't like the way you signed the back. Yup that three dollar night supplement that you didn't buy because you were told by the French that your vois 7 was good until 5 am, just cost you 80 francs. The time it took for the idiot conductor to write up our ticket was the same amount of time we were on the train. We didn't pay up front, but apparently he's going to send us a letter. And further more! AND FURTHER MORE! after asking two other conductors - one on a train and one a ticket agent - what the deal was - they told us that it was ludacris that we got charged or ticketed. And then they continued to say that, oh well, you have to pay the fee they send you anyways! WHAT THE HELL.

Here's the thing about Switzerland. Everything has to work on time and precise that customer service DOES NOT EXIST. not on the phone when I called Swiss Com for three days telling them 'no the internet doesn't work over here, we have no dial tone, they have already tried pinging it, we need a technician....ok try again...no it still doesn't work...we've tried two different lines and two different modems - we need a technician!....no there is not a problem with our line' - three days of that! until finally they get ready to send a technician and then, bing bang boom, realize that the problem ISNT us but that their central line has been cut. Or like running for a bus, or even being AT THE BUS, pressing the door button allowing someone with a carriage to get on, and having the door shut in your face because dear god as if the freaking bus can be 10 seconds late! christ! THE SWISS!

Rant over.
Moving on

The next day we went up to a mountain. Because thats what we do in Switzerland, we hang out at the tops of mountains searching for Heidi. The walk up was a bit tiring, despite having a good rest the night before. And you'd think that the short treck up would have somewhat prepared me for walking up 90 degrees to the castle in Heidelburg all the while trailing 100 feet behind a tiny little person who turned out to be none other than Tegan Quin. But more on that in another blog.

Anyways while at the top there was a steal structure where you could get a 360 view of...well mountains and valleys and a river...because thats what you see in Switzerland. Gilberto and I walked up together, but about three quarters of the way to the top the wind had gotten so strong that I became terrified for my life. I thought I was going to be pushed down the stairs and well...I'm scared of heights, so lets not go there. Gilberto is scared of heights too, so we went back down together, tail between our legs while the others pushed their way through the wind. The bunch of us then went and had desert and hot chocolate / coffee at a restaurant...who charged me 4 francs for tap water. But of course, its Switzerland, don't you know, tap water is alp water. Use that excuse, you can get away with anything here...price wise of course.

Umm..then we went home. Nothing exciting happened on the train ride back - other than collective motion sickness...but yes, that my friends was Zurich.

searching for a former clarity

2008-03-13T08:17:00.000-07:00

1. I have come to realize that my butt:
is best covered by pants

2. I have come to realize that when I talk:
I don't say too much, at least, not very much that is original

3. I have come to realize that if I love someone:
i should probably tell them - all the time.

4. I have come to realize that I need:
to be passionate about what i do.

5. I have come to realize that I lost:
some of my youthful idealism...but only some

6. I have come to realize that I hate it when:
you hate

7. I have come to realize that if I am drunk:
i should not be within a three mile radius of a camera

8. I have come to realize that marriage:
is okay but maybe not for me

9. I have come to realize that work:
shouldn't be work

10. I have come to realize that I will always:
need family

11. I have come to realize that I like:
people

12. I have come to realize that the last time I cried was:
because i kept trying not to

13. I have come to realize that my cell phone is:
not an iphone

14. I have come to realize that when I wake up in the morning:
i wish i could change the tone on my cell phone's alarm clock

15. I have come to realize that before I go to sleep:
i should have a glass of water beside my bed

16. I have come to realize that right now I am thinking about:
probably not doing as much today before I leave as I was supposed to

17. I have come to realize that babies:
turn into kids

18. I have come to realize that when I get on Myspace / Facebook:
i get anxious

19. I have come to realize that today:
should have been more productive

20. I have come to realize that tonight:
will be stressful

21. I have come to realize that tomorrow:
always seems further away than it is

22. I have come to realize that I really want to:
do something drastic

23. I have come to realize that working out:
would be beneficial for preparing you to climb up things, like mountains and castles, which europe has a lot of

24. I have come to realize that friends:
can be your second family.

25. I have come to realize that, the person who might repost this is:
probably has the means to

sunglasses at night

2008-03-05T08:23:00.000-08:00

continuing with the out of date blogs...

The weekend following my trip to Montreaux (the first weekend in February I believe) was quite different. That week had seen my mom on my mend from her surgery, and her growing strength provided me with a boosted morale. So when Gilberto, seemingly on a mission to get me out of the foyer and into the streets of Geneva (not entirely sure if he was actually on a mission, but that word makes everything seem so much more important - like there is a plan involved and responsibility), invited me out - I obliged. That Friday night I agreed to accompany Gilberto and others to the Che bar. Not the real name, but an adequate nickname for the large building with a big ol mural of Che Guevera on the front. Gilberto had been wanting to go there since we first saw it, but it had been closed - and was finally reopening that weekend.

However, during a quick stop to meet others who would be joining us, the entire plan changed and we were soon on our way to Black Box. Black Box was a gallery of some sort, located on the island which had been temporarily turned into a small club for a film festival. I decided to go, figuring we had left pretty late - somewhere just past midnight - and therefore wouldn't have to stay long. I was still trying to get back into the groove of being social....oh lets face it, I've never fully fit into that groove anyways.

Black Box turned out to be quite small, maybe slightly bigger capacity than Absinthe. A Dj group, cleverly named La Vic-Team, were performing that night, and provided quite the entertainment. I don't really know how to explain it all... We walked in and there were these euro-hipster-scene girls up on stage dressed ridiculously dancing to hard industrial type techno. One girl was wearing a large white t shirt, black short short over tights with some sort of fish hat mask on, another girl in a black dress with her face painted white, and another one in a black and silver metalic leotard wearing a cat mask. The boy djs were dressed normally, while another boy was wielding a fake saw, was sometimes wearing a monster mask and had a bloody lab coat on - he was also serving super cheap drinks from the stage for only four francs. The hard industrial techno eventually switched to regular techno, right around the time I switched from drinking piss-bitter house beer to mystery (re: sangria) punch that la vic team was serving. At one point I just didn't know who to watch or what to do. On one hand, Farhad's roomates (who had joined us) were dancing up a storm, on the other hand the kids on stage were dancing ridiculously and making up their own (french) lyrics to go along with the techno, and then there was crazy naked tattoo guy (a geneva staple, should anyone come visit in the summer, I will gladly point him out to you and push you infront of him while he's trying to give out massages) peddling a bag full of sex toys and trying to get people to slap his ass. Eventually Farhads room mates got on stage to dance and later slapped naked tattoo guys ass with a paddle he had in his bag of tricks. See, entertainment mergers aren't all bad.

The next morning Gilberto came knocking and my first words were to him were 'I feel like I got hit by a bus'. After a discussion about the funeral service that he had gone to (an intern at the ILO had passed away suddenly, a friend of Gilberto's that he met here) he mentioned that there was a reggae party that night at L'usine - Geneva's dirtiest but highly popular, clubs. He was pumped to go, mostly because he had to call it an early night before, and mostly because it was a reggae party. I was reluctant, mostly because I hadn't called it a late and because I felt like I had been hit by a bus.

Now if the idea of me dancing to crazy techno music all night seems ridiculous to some of you (but probably very suiting to others) then I can only imagine how absurd it may seem to think of me at a reggae concert. I thought the same, and was mildly convinced that I would find a way out of going. But instead, as night drew in, I started to get ready and soon I was handing out sunglasses to the small group that joined us, preparing for the night that would later be dubbed 'the dark night in Geneva'.

Upon arrival at Usine, I was at first I was apprehensive; I didn't know what to expect, I didn't dance to reggae, and I felt like I was trapped in a bong there was so much pot in the air. Slowly but surely though, as more people started to arrive, I got my bearings and made my way into the crowd - not to resurface again unless to go pee or to head home - again, at some ridiculous time fairly close to sun rise. I decided not to drink or to partake in any of the craziness around so that I could actually just appreciate the atmosphere...and not feel like death the next morning.

Now there were a few things about this night that were significantly different:

1. While at Black Box there was an effort to seemlessly mix one song into the other. - at L'Usine the reggae DJ's would play a song, build up the audience for about 30 seconds - then cut it off.

2. At Black Box the girls from La Vic Team made up lyrics (seemingly) to the techno being played - at L'Usine there was a pretty qualified and awesome rapper for a bit of the night as well. 3. At Black Box there was lights. There weren't at L'Usine (and the darkness was only made more complicated by virtue of us all wearing sunglasses).

4. At Black Box no one seemed to hassle you while you were dancing - at L'Usine come 2 am you couldn't escape the guys that realized they were going home alone and thought that being creepy and singing in your ear and smelling of pot was going to make you suddenly realize -'now thats what i've been missing all my life! YOU'. christ.

Nonetheless, despite the two very different nights, I had a great time. It was the first time in Geneva where I felt like I had actually experienced their night life. And it was a great experience, especially in comparison to my previous weekend (not to say that Montreaux wasn't terrific, but the general mood was much better). I suppose I owe that to Gilberto, who somehow provided me the extra nudge I needed to get me out of my wallowing and into the public realm.

Now what's a blog about crazy dancing without photos?

what?

me on the tram (HI MOM!)

at the reggae party - and still with the sunglasses on

outside the foyer

Gilberto and I, we're super cool, don't cha know.

That Sunday, instead of sleeping off two nights of dancing and craziness, Nadia, Maha, Rikke (one of the people I met that weekend) went to some random mountain. Now see, unlike Toronto, Geneva gets barely any snow, ever, at all, there is no snow here. At least, there hasn't been while I've been here. So to get snow, you have to go up high, to a mountain. Which we did.

At first there was talk of just going for hot chocolate. Then there was talk of going for snowshoeing. Then the talk ended and we rented two toboggans. Which deserves, of course, a picture blog on all its own.

Me and snow. (HI DAD!)

seeing as how our original intention was hot chocolate, I did not come prepared to go messing about in the snow. And smarty pants me wore my vans slip ons. Huzzah! Lets just say I was very very lucky to not have gotten more than a mild head cold the following week. And one that I chalked up to working incredibly late hours doing freelance. But that's another blog. Or actually it's not.

Unfortunately there are times where even having a great camera, you just are not able to capture the view. Maybe its because I haven't figured out how to work said camera yet. Anyways it was gorgeous, especially at sunset.

me coming down a small hill. After my multiple falls last winter in Hamilton I was a bit....scared to have a repeat performance, so I stuck to the kiddy hills.

Nadi and Maha getting ready to go down the hill. Much fun was had. (and hot chocolate was had as well)

I Feel It All

2008-02-27T05:59:00.001-08:00

Feist is brilliant, seriously. Who else can get away with this? WHO I ASK YOU?

The above photo was from when shy, caro and I met Feist after her performance at the Toronto Island show two summers ago. Alex told me that my hair looked like 'the beegees' in this photo, and I could not believe how ridiculous it had gotten that day - I mean I had put a lot of time in straightening it, but you know ,heat and humidity does not bode well for someone lacking thinning scisors (which I now have convinced Steph to use on me when my hair gets out of control and I'm far away from my beloved hair dresser). Feist was sick with the flu and some girl suggested she eat saltines and some super fan corrected her about saltines not being available in Canada because we call them something else. It was very dumb actually. Feist was also wearing a super cool gold watch, which I think birthed my desire for wanting a gold calculator watch. She was super nice and her parents came to say hello while or just after we had taken a picture and gotten her autograph. I wish we had said more but the brief encounter was pretty terrific and made for this fantastic story. Also, it was the first time she performed 1,2,3,4 and I spent way too much time afterwards trying to find a bootleg of it, forgetting about it once school started, and rediscovering it once it had finally been released as a single.

Seriously, Feist is brilliant. Don't even front.

everybody get random

2008-02-23T03:57:00.001-08:00

welcome to another edition of:
RANDOM CRAP FROM GENEVA AND SURROUNDING AREAS AS CAPTURED ON MY CAMERA PHONE

The above photos are from World AIDS Day / prepartion for world AIDS day. I participated in a small march on Wolrd AIDS Day and took a photo of the jet d'eau which had red lights on it to commemorate the day. Our office christmas tree was decorated with AIDS ribbons by Francesca (no, not my sister, amazingly OTHER people also have that name - imagine!)

I think Steph and I were christmas shopping or something and I took this photo while pretending to wait for a tram. This guy just had the craziest shit on. And it looked like he would be a fan of Laura and I's crazy...uh..whatever it is you call 203zebras...

I discovered this this morning when I used the other bathroom at the end of my hall. The BEST and most random radiohead reference I have ever seen "When I am King, you will be first against the wall" - guh! Brilliant! Zach, I know you are loving this, and it is now my mission in life to become best friends with the dude who put this up....whoever he is...

How to Disappear Completely (I'm not here / this isn't happening)

2008-02-19T13:08:00.000-08:00

Keeping this thing up to date, when I lack time and reliable internet connection, sometimes proves to be rather difficult - but hey, two blog posts in one day, can't be that bad?! Anyways, the following entry is obviously overdue, and you can probably expect quite a few entries popping up here and there that comment on past trips, excursions, weekend activities, and what have you.

Sometime towards the end of January, when we found out about mom's prognosis, I was having a difficult time processing the various insane things I was meant to process. I wound up spending a week trying to fight off a lot of things, rather than, as I was later advised to do, allowing them to happen, acknowledge them, move on; don't dwell, don't fight, let it be (how very beatles of me). However, this whole horrid cycle of dwell / fight / ignore / dwell somewhat diminished my capacity to do much else other than be a ball of anxiety. Add that stress to my slight pre-existing social anxiety, and you get a Dana who shuts people out, gets mad for ridiculous reasons, pulls a disappearing act, and refuses to participate in simple social activities.

Fortunately (as there can be a slight silver lining on these types of situations and mood imbalances), 'escape' in Switzerland sure beats 'escape' in Hamilton / Mississauga (you know, in Hamilton I can go to the mountain, maybe downtown to get bothered by some haggard drunk man -- and in Mississauga I can go to Erindale Park...with Nick. Which is often more hilarious than calming...and something I desperately want to do while I write this). After a failed attempt at joining Gilberto, Steph, and friends of theirs on a Friday night outing, I decided to forgo any other gatherings that weekend, and took off Saturday morning - heading towards Montreaux.

I have to admit, that despite my reasons for going to Montreaux alone (an attempt to disappear so I could avoid the additional stress of having to fraternize with people, hiding out from not only friends but from myself) I was rather glad I did. Unfortunately... or fortunately, upon arrival at Montreaux, once I made my way down to the lakeshore and whipped out my camera, I realized that I hadn't charged the battery since my trip to London. At first I got frustrated, just one more thing to add to my list of problems, I felt like I needed to hear that Jay Z song - "if you having girl problems I feel bad for you son, I got 99 problems but a bitch aint one" - its not because any of that song ever actually pertains to me, I just find it pleasantly ironic and rather kitsch, to be this upper middle class suburban white girl who chooses a rap song to quote when shit hits the fan. Sometimes you just need to bask in all the absurdities of your life.

I stumbled about for a moment or two trying to figure out what I would do without a camera or any companionship other than my ipod, finally deciding that this was, in fact, a perfect opportunity to wander and appreciate the beauty of Montreaux without too many distractions.

Montreaux is a small city located on the north east shore of Lake Geneva, with the Rhone mountains just across the way. Walking along the lakeshore, even in the 'dead' of 'winter' (terms I use lightly as the vast majority of my readers are currently still trying to dig their way out of the Snow in Toronto) is simply amazing. The city is small and calm and remarkably clean (perhaps because it is winter and not overrun with tourist). As I walked I found a few places to sit here and there, often very close to the water, where I simply tried to exist within the moment, enjoying the view of the mountains lightly concealed behind a grey mist, the quiet lapping of the water against the shore - all of it charming and picturesque.

Of course, as mentioned, I also had my ipod on me. I've included here a small Montreaux playlist - a collection of songs that adequately capture the mood of that day, the setting, all of it. Sometimes we need to rely on extra devices to get the point across. I'm no artist, I didn't have my camera, and writing for me only will only ever accomplish so much - I can give you the mis en scene but not the impassioned actor, not the jarring movements. not the honest from the gut dialogue. But consider this the soundtrack. Listen to it and reread the blog. Listen to it and sit in a park, allow yourself to become nostaligic while watching something utterly detached from you, paying as much attention to it (whatever it is, however simple or complex) as possible. Enjoy.

Montreaux Play List (click here to download)

1. House of Cards - Radiohead
2. Over The Pond - The Ablum Leaf
3. A Smile that Explodes - Joseph Arthur
4. In Places, Empty Spaces - The Most Serene Republic
5. Bats Mouth - Bat for Lashes
6. Passenger Seat - Death Cab for Cutie
7. Love and Mathematics - Broken Social Scene

I returned from Montreaux to discover Steph had almost sent out a search party for me (I hadn't told anyone I was leaving, I didn't take my cell phone. I wanted to disappear..I guess I just wanted to be invisible, not to be a burden to anyone anymore - and maybe if I didn't exist, nothing bad would either). I stayed inside that night, knowing that it was still to early for me to be able to stand up straight in a crowd of people I barely knew. I laid in bed, I listened to Radiohead, I let myself feel what I had been fighting off, no longer hiding, no more pushing.
I became exhausted.
I slept. I slept. I slept.
I woke.

debate the taste

2008-02-19T10:51:00.000-08:00

Callie, who works in our corridor, dropped a couple of chocolate easter bunnies on our table today - you know the large hollow ones that you get for 99cents at zellers and taste like chocolate dipped in cellophane?

fucking swiss chocolate rules. even the crappy mass produced easter bunny chocolate tastes so much better than the plastic faux chocolate we have in canada.

when i move home, i'll loose like, a trillion pounds, because nothing will ever compare.

Trouble and disapointment

2008-02-14T12:01:00.000-08:00

my mom says she likes it when i blog about my feelings and things i do and the way i think etc etc. i don't think this is what she had in mind....

back in the summer, whilst a bevy of great cds were being released by hoards of Canadian bands, I found myself getting excited for the Juno's. This was surprising as I have never been moved to even read day old articles on Juno winners, let alone watch the program. But, as I listened to great album after great album, and anticipated more releases from various worthy Canadian bands, I just knew that this year the Juno team could not deny the amazing talent coming from our home and nation land.

But alas, I finally discovered the list for the 2008 Junos, and I have been let down. Now...maybe this sounds a bit harsh. I mean, there are things I'm happy about...

I will say that I'm happy that Feist is positioning her self...or being positioned...as Canada's new it girl. Not that I was terribly ahead of horse, but I remember trying to force Feist down the throats of people nearly two years ago, only to be rebuffed. I think it was the Sara McClaughlan (sp?) stereotype that tainted the idea of listening to another young modern female Canadian singer songwriter (could we have more labels on that?...probably only when talking about t/s...and dontchaknow, labels determine type/quality of music, durr Canada). But luckily, the reminder, and the brilliance of 1,2,3,4 finally provided Feist a much deserved place in the hearts and ipods of many. And, thank God for that too, at last, we have a new Canadian darling who isn't boring, or depressing, or an air head, or Celine Dion (trust me when I say Feist helps our relationship with France, whereas Celin only damages it). So good for us, and good for the Junos, and good for the mainstream industry for finally tuning in to Feist's artistry and musical brilliance. Pat ourselves on the back, it only took her three solo albums, a stint with Divine Right, an ipod commercial, and to be a part of one of Canada's best indie-rock offerings (Broken Social Scene) to finally grab everyone's attention. [for serious, we are a slow nation when it comes to recognizing and finding our own home grown tallent, we'd rather stick to being lost in some kind of american pop cultural imperialism and gorge ourselves on the likes of good charlotte and their subsequent followers and wannabes - only listening to the five wannabe-american-pop-cut-out Canadian artists that the likes of Much Music decides to play on constant repeat so that they can fulfill their can con requirements - playing six avril videos in a row does not constitute diverse canadian content!...and you know what, why wouldn't someone like avril lavigne want to mimick the american superstars, they're from a land that recognizes and supports their own musicians...but i digress].

I'm also happy to see Tegan and Sara get A nod. Yes, one little nomination where they are pitted against the likes of the Arcade Fire and Patrick Watson. As much as I love those petite twins from Alberta, I feel as though the 'best alternative record' is actually really providing heavy competition, and T and S don't seem lined up to win. That said, I'll go back to their one nomination - and the lack of nominations for Stars, Emily Haines, and the Weakerthans. All 'mainstream' artists. All brilliant song writers. And yet, none of them have been nominated for best song writer. No no. That designation as a nominee for 'best song writer' goes to the likes Avril Lavigne. Because 'hey hey you you i don't like your girlfriend' is pure Canadian gold. Richer than maple syrup I tells you. Apparently Tegan and Sara could have been less honest when they wrote 'I'm not unfaithful, but I'll stray' or Knife Going In and they could have been a little more fan friendly when they penned the lyrics to I take All the Blame. And apparently Emily Haines would have been better off to use word magnets thrown not-so-strategically against her fridge instead of actually writing prose when working out the songs for Knives Don't Have Your Back. Don't you know, mainstream Canada won't recognize your ability to write a song, Emily, unless you stop it with those metaphors and not-parsed-down-enough emotions. And who were the Weakerthans kidding, as if smart pop lyrics make it anywhere in Canada. Learn your lesson boys, if you want to see your name on the next list of nominees, make your rhymes simple and sweet, use words that are easy to spell, and if all else failes - go the route of Rhianna (not a Canadian, but if she were, best believe she'd be nominated for best song writer) and break up words, singing only syllables.

Ugh.
I could go on.
But I'll just say this. Thank God for CBCRadio3. Because if it didn't exist, I would actually think that Avril and Celine (WHO GOT NOMINATED TWICE IN THE SAME CATEGORY!!!!) are adequate representations of Canadian music. CBCRadio3 is incredible at promoting Canadian talent, and lets face it, a good portion of us only first heard of Feist because of them. I would give up on Canadian music if their website and podcast didn't exist, because honestly, where else would artists (and i stress artists) find a home in Canada? For flipping serious.

laser life

2008-02-08T09:32:00.000-08:00

my mom started chemo last week and had her second dose this week.
she's been remarkably strong, and really positive...she's inspired a lot of strength in me, which i guess, has helped me to keep things pretty...well..normal out here and in turn has maybe given her some strength too.
anyway, with this whole chemo deal, i thought i should forewarn her of possible side effects of having chemicals pumped into her - so i made her this instructional poster.

A Brieft Yet Triumphant Intermission

2008-02-06T07:10:00.000-08:00

Apologies for the lack of blogging.

And this barely counts - but, we went bowling yesterday!

Gilberto and I, while out buying a much belated birthday gift for Steph, discovered a bowling alley that advertised meter pizzas. After a couple of weeks of talking about it, broken plans, etc. we finally got our selves out there!

Excitement abounds! I know!

It turns out kids from Sweeden are amazing bowlers... and Steph and I aren't. But who can complain about that? I love bowling - no matter where you are in the world, bowling is the same: beer, crazy color bowling balls, cheesy top 40 music, and awesome brown computers older than me.

but really, whats a blog about bowling without a video:

picture this

2008-01-21T05:15:00.001-08:00

FAM JAM AND HOLIDAY

My little sister and my mom, durring the hallway dance party. What is the hallway dance party, you ask? While in Switzerland I burned my mom a couple of cds - one of which was a dance cd, full of oldies and goodies and fergie. Tired of waiting for doctor calls, we threw it on and danced the afternoon away.

If you scroll up and down really quick, its almost like you were there!

Whatever the song, and whatever the dance move, it all required concentration and punching movements!

In order to be a true guitar hero, you need a back up band!
The Wii and Guitar Hero seemed to be family favourites on Christmas day. We could have been a Future Shop commercial.

The Spice Girls...or something like that.

The missing Spice Girl

considering how much mom loves 'don't forget the lyrics' it looks as though she has.

NEW YEARS

standard caro and dana at absinthe - hand clapping versus hands in the air. WE NEED NEW DANCE MOVES PEOPLE

Note that all these pictures are pre sweat soaked hair and Gilberto's 'baptism'.

LONDON

hey hey - lookit me! i'm in London!

This is to ensure tourists don't get themselves killed while crossing the street...they KIND OF help.

meeting the queen! (just outside Buckingham palace)

London Calling (totally aware that London Bridge and Tower Bridge aren't the same)

spice up your life

2008-01-19T02:29:00.000-08:00

well with a small amount of good news coming in (mom is in good spirits, doctors like her, chemo starts soon, etc) i figured i could move on to a more standard blog and update on the good stuff from the past month or so.

AUNTY TINA'S HAVING CHRISTMAS, LA LA LA

The Holidays, like the actual days of celebration (new years and christmas) were pretty damn fantastic. Christmas was spent at my aunts house where she outdid herself again - i swear i've never seen or enjoyed as man appetizers as I did there. By the time desert came around I had no clue what I was eating because i'm pretty sure I got the look. You know the look. Caroline knows it well anyhow - the glazed eyes, the grumble, the head roll - the i've eaten way too much but there's no hope in trying to make me stop - look.

I don't know why people - like me - have a tendency to only talk about the food, weather and gifts when discussing christmas. Or to open the discussion with it. The best thing about the holidays wasn't the con dvd (hillarious) or the fig and goat cheese (amazing) but it was spending the day at Aunt Tina's surrounded by family. For serious, I love that group of people...you the group..my family. the group of us played guitar hero and wii and sang karaoke and had such a good time that if you were on the outside looking in you would have thought the whole display was a showing of 'we sing in sillyville - christmas special' (which us four Herlihey kids did watch on christmas eve by the by. nothing like watching that elf with the speech impediment make gusty a pair of really really gay looking glasses all the while singing and dancing with some white bread kids and their adopted asian sister who seems able to only speak in christmas rhymes. seriously, best movie ever...but i digress). Anyhow, it was fun and festive and all captured on camera.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE CHRISTMAS ALBUM

TWO THOUSAND ZERO ZERO (photos to be added - BLOGGER IS NOT COOPERATING)

New Years was spent with a different family - yes those crazy kids from hamilton and geneva gathered together for a pretty crazy night out at absinthe where we got a free bottle of champagne, i got a birthday shout out, and everyone lost thirteen pounds from dancing all night in a crowded, poorly ventilated basement club. Even before Gilberto decided to 'baptize' me, my hair was drenched and everyone was oh so shiny. Seriously, that place NEEDS air conditioning. Or something.

Caroline and I wore matching shirts, which at first I was weary of, and later on...well later on I don't think I cared too much. Many pairs of sunglasses were pass around as well, and we all looked kind of ridiculous at times, wearing our shades indoors. But we didn't care, we were being young, having fun, ringing in the new year the best way we knew how - by being crazies from hamilton.

SPICE UP YOUR LIFE (video and photos coming soon)

As soon as I landed in Geneva, I said 'screw you' to jet lag and hopped on a plane 12 hours later to bring me BACK to london (I had stopped there for my layover - poor planning, I know I know).

We had taken easy jet to Lutton airport, which is actually pretty far from the city (even though it says its in London). Luckily we planned and caught an easy bus (seriously this easy brand stuff is magical) into the city. It was amazing getting off the bus and trying to get directions on metro tickets and tube lines and ordering a sausage roll (tasty english snack that didn't cost us 6 pounds - or a million dollars once converted)...for the first time in our travel experience, everyone spoke English - no, they even spoke it better than us with their cute-as-a-button accents! Traveling was going to be easy?! We could read street signs! WE COULD NAVIGATE! Anyhow, it was somewhat calming knowing we wouldn't have to struggle with French, or learn sign language because we couldn't speak Czech or Italian.

We were able to quickly find our hotel (yes a hotel, yes Steph has connections, yes I exploit them for my own good) and once settling, and since it was only noon, we went on a mini tour of the city. First though, we appeased our appetite at a cafe near our closest tube stop. We noticed that a film crew we had seen in the tube was now eating there. We later found out that it was a French film that was being shot - hence why we heard a few of them tossing around French words. (Later on, when returning, they had their craft services table out in the open and I stole a tuna sandwich. I mean come on - who leaves a table of food unattended and doesn't expect a Canadian tourist to steal from it? SERIOUSLY) Anyways, the mini tour, and by mini tour I mean we got off at one stop and walked around, often stumbling upon landmarks "oh is that big ben?" "I found the London eye" "i don't know what that is, it looks important though". We also tried to find out the price for a theatre show (about a million dollars, once converted), but decided that we didn't need that experience at the cost of our life savings. That night we instead went to a fellow Multimedia student's house (Laura, you will remember him as 'john lennon' from third year) who Steph knew. There we ate, and chatted with..get this... MORE MAC STUDENTS. yes yes, we are taking over the world.

The next day we went to the Camden markets - the place where all the cool hipsters must get their kafiya's because you can find them for 2 for 5 pounds, and if you look hard enough, 2 for 3.98. We bought about ten scarves between us. The Camden Market, anyways, was highly suggested to us by the Mac students living in London. And it was a really interesting experience. Just rows and rows of clothing, scarves, punk gear, etc. A street of awesome stores, a dark back alley with a ton of cheap food. I know my mom wanted me to eat traditional English food, but instead we went with the 'when you go there, you have to eat the 2 pound asian food' and so we did. We saw the punks we were told to look out for, I bought a pair of vans (pink and black checkered that I couldn't find in Canada for years) and sunglasses, and scarves, and you know, random crap.

Later that night we went to see Tower Bridge - which isn't London bridge, but should be - and made our way to the reason we were in London in the first place - The Spice Girl show.

Now unfortunately, the only tube line to bring us to the O2 - the concert arena (which is MASSIVE by the way) was down, as well as three other lines, so after some confusion we had to bus it for an hour to O2. Luckily we had a lot of entertainment on the way. In the form of some girls Frankie's age with some sort of mp3 player, who were all singing a long to the hits of the Spice Girls. A woman beside us videotaped some of it (as we didn't bring our cameras for fear of them not allowing them - unfortunately they did and we have no proof of our attendance), but I don't have a copy of that video...this is all very unfortunate.

Anyways, we made it to O2, and luckily the fifteen minutes it took us to walk around to where our seats were was just enough time to get settled and see the show begin!

Now let me just say, simply enough, that the show was great, incredibly entertaining. I don't know if its because the girls were actually good at what they did, or if it was because 10 years ago seeing the Spice Girls would not have had the same fun nostalgic atmosphere as it did this time around. I think everyone there was old enough to have appreciated that these songs and ladies were not only massive hits during the time of their release, but that they themselves - the audience - were, pretty much, children when they last clutched onto a new Spice Girl record. So it was a lot of fun, kinda like being super excited and dancing to fred penner or something...but only if he was in a short sequins skirt and had a bunch of back up dancers and could fill a huge stadium and get everyone dancing and singing along for an hour and a half to pop hits from the 90's....ok nothing like fred penner.

Then we left London. (you know, after hours of switching buses and sleeping in the airport for our early monday morning flight.)

I must return, however. MUST.

slip your heart into my chest

2008-01-18T07:44:00.000-08:00

i will never lie when i write on this thing
i can't. not when writing is an extension of emotion, experience, whatever.
maybe i'll be wrong, and maybe i'll be delusional, and i might even omit, but i won't lie.
so i won't say the past couple of days have been rough, not because its a lie, but because its not enough.
a couple of people have asked me - how you doing - and i try to be as honest as possible.
sometimes i'm ok, sometimes its as if nothing is happening and i can laugh and have a good time and do my work without interruption and i can concentrate and i can think positively and be really hopeful and optimistic.
sometimes i'm numb, 'stay awake in the night, just staring at the ceiling above' - no thoughts, nothing. just there. on pause.
sometimes it crashes down on me, and it feels like i'm suffocating. someone is sitting on my chest, someone has punched me in the gut. and it will come at random times, a song will set me off, the night, a word.
and none of this is surprising, or it shouldn't be. it seems adequate and reasonable. it seems like the standard response. we're all raw right now, we're all selfish because we need to learn how to process our emotions.
so ive been keeping a journal, external to the blog, and i've set my self up to go to counseling and a support group - my mum told me before i left to vindicate my emotions, and i intend to do that.
if im going to be strong i'm going to need to learn how to process these reactions, how to understand how there can be darkness and light, how to find hope when you feel like you've just lost it. and i need to be strong, stronger than that, so i can lend some of my strength of my mom when she needs it, to my sisters and brother when they need it, to my dad, to my aunt and uncle, to my cousins. and im not setting myself up to be some kind of hero or champion, because hopefully they can lend some to me too.

and hope, that word...for so long it seemed to arbitrary to me. like something you wrote really large on a piece of construction paper in grade 3 and decorated with sparkles. it wasn't as if i've never understood it, it just felt whimsical. but now it carries so much.
because to have hope, and loose it... the feeling of disappointment reveals all that you had with it. And to find it again, despite the circumstances, despite the anger and the pity, despite the difficulty, reveals how much you gain with it.

How to explain this...

I was walking to work yesterday. And it was almost as if, my life was on repeat, just a little distorted.

I was upset, to say the least, and making my way up the path to the back of the office.
And it had been raining in Geneva the past couple days, but today it was bright and sunny. Not too sunny, not too bright. It was a calm light. And the air was crisp. And everything was green and yellow and orange. And I thought of how much this reminded me of that one sunday in October, when the moment was just right and a butterfly was by my ankle, and how perfect everything had been then. And when I looked to my feet, I saw a fat pug. You know one of those dogs whose fat rolls on its back like the fat rolls on Timbalands neck? Anyways, I found it funny, so odd and misplaced so ridiculous, and yet really really suiting. And again, there was that moment, where it all made sense even without thinking about it or having the answers or knowing the question.

And I guess that is where I'm going to find my hope. In the moments of clarity, in the moments when everything seems so much bigger than me, when words and emotions aren't arbitrary or trivial or whimsical - but when they are tangible, at your feet. I'll take it as it comes. and nobody said it was easy, and nobody said it was going to be. but I believe in fighting, i believe in finding strength, i believe in finding hope.

Are You Ten Years Ago?

2008-01-07T20:21:00.000-08:00

another 2007 round-up.

1) Where did you ring in 2007?
in Florida, watching Law and Order.

2) What was your status by Valentine's Day?
single

3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?
I completed my last semester at Mac and did about four French classes in Geneva.

4) How did you earn your keep?
Working as a research assistant and office assistant and then working as a webmaster / communication assistant. I like to assist, a lot.

5) Did you have to go to the hospital?
no.

6) Did you encounter the police?
Yes - noise violations during our last party. Trish and I talked our way out of a fine.

7) Where did you go on vacation?
Florida, Italy, France, Prague, Amsterdam (does that count as vacation or trips??)

8) What did you purchase that was over $500?
macbook, camera

9) Did you know anybody who got married?
cousin - Katie.

10) Do you know anybody who passed away?
Nina

11) Have you run into anybody you graduated high school with?
Unintentionally...no..

12) Did you move anywhere?
Hamilton to Mississauga, Mississauga to Geneva.

13) What sporting events did you go to?
didn't.

14) What concerts did you go to?
shout out out out out, Tokyo Police Club / Cities in Dust, Apostle of Hustle, The Sounds / Jimmy Eat World, Feist, The Tragically Hip

15) Where do you live now?
Geneva, Switzerland

16) Describe your birthday.
I watched a 24 hour Law and Order marathon, we did something in Florida...I don't really remember. It was relaxing and I think Frankie and I went to Barnes and Noble... I think the weekend after a few of us went out to snooty fox and when I returned Zach had given me his xbox and games and had it all set up in the kitchen.

17) What's the one thing you thought you would never do but did in 2007?
move to Europe.

18) What is one thing you regretted this year?
being bitchy when I got home in September

19) What's something you learned about yourself?
That I don't always need a plan.

20) Any new additions to your family?
Andrew Folwell

21) What was your best month?
Uh probably March or April. Whenever I finished that damn thesis. I was so effing proud of that thing. >>> WWW.HIGHTOPCHUCKSANDBUBBLEGUM.COM <<< Plus I like, finished school and stuff. It was a bittersweet month with all the finishings and movings and stuff.

22) What from pop culture will you remember 2007 by?
rehab and crazy pop stars and how much I loved video on trial

23) How would you rate this year with a scale from 1 (shitty) to 10 (excellent)?
7.5

the list

2008-01-05T13:46:00.000-08:00

I meant to do this pre 2008, but life got in the way.

Top 10 Albums of 2007

1. The Reminder - Feist
2. The Con - Tegan and Sara
3. † - Justice
4. Fur and Gold - Bat for Lashes
5. Oi Oi Oi - Boys Noize
6. Alright Still - Lily Allen
7. Not Saying, Just Saying - Shout Out Out Out Out (technically 2006 but I was late on it)
8. IsIs EP- Yeah Yeah Yeahs
9. No One Will Know - Bella
10. In Rainbows - Radiohead

Top 10 Songs of 2007

1. 1234 - Feist
2. D.A.N.C.E - Justice
3. Videotape - Radiohead
4. Le Disko - Shiny Toy Guns
5. The Con - Tegan and Sara
6. Makes Me Wonder - Maroon 5
7. Homecoming - The Teenagers
8. Bounce - Timbaland
9. Sweaty - Muscles
10. Secret March - The Wet Secrets

Top 5 Guilty Pleasures of 2007

1. Get Outta My Head - Ashlee Simpson
2. Umbrella - Rhianna
3. Gimme More - Britney Spears
4. Before He Cheats - Carrie Underwood
5. This is Why I'm Hot - MIMS

Top 5 Music Videos of 2007

1. 1234 - Feist
2. D.A.N.C.E - Justice
3. Cheap Like Sebastian - Apostle of Hustle
4. What's A Girl to Do - Bat for Lashes
5. Alala - CSS (technically 2006, but again, I was late)

karma police (?)

2007-12-11T07:21:00.001-08:00

i'm coming home earlier than expected
my moms cancer is 'more advanced' and surgery is going to be 'more complicated' than expected
my grandmother had a heart attack and died on saturday
so im flying home early for a funeral
merry fucking christmas.

but

i can be angry
i am
and i can be scared
i am
and i can be a lot of really horrible things right now
but i'm going home and i'm so friggin happy, because i get to see my mom and i get to help my dad out with all this stuff, and i get to sleep in a big bed with my sisters, and i get to see snow- not rain, and i get to hug my family, and i get to see the longwood girls, and i get to hug them too. so i'm still privileged. i still have a lot to look forward to this december. and yeah its hard to take the good with all the bad, but...'how we survive is what makes us who we are'.
so lets fight the good fight
and lets do it with a fucking grin plastered on our face.
and lets be called crazy
and lets laugh until we can't breathe
and lets dance until our feet hurt
and just give us a merry christmas and a friggin' happy new year.
please.

Music is my great grand daughter

2007-12-03T10:15:00.001-08:00

It seems that when there is a lull in my traveling that there is a lull in my blogging. However, this doesn't mean that my everyday life is disgustingly boring. No no, quite the contrary, just as many interesting things happen in the everyday in Geneva. But I generally find it hard to put it all down on paper (well...electronically) and in words because how often does your day to day mundane activities actually excite you to the point of wanting to sharing it with the internet world?

Though I guess the notion of 'mundane activities' is somewhat subjective...and I don't find my life mundane.
Why did I pick that word?

Certainly the past couple of weeks have been anything but...

[note - the vast majority of my blog entries get their titles from songs that I think suit the content. This blog is a series of short anecdotes about the past week and a half, hence the playlist. Each anecdote and story has a different song title and relevant lyric to open it]

GUERNICA - Brand New
"Nobody plans to be half a world away at times like these / so I sat alone and waited out the night."

As most people who read my blog already know (and I hope my mom doesn't get upset with me for sharing this on the interweb - though I will say, that anyone reading this probably already knows and I can take it down if it pisses you off ma) last Saturday my parents called me to inform me that my mom - who had been sent home early from her vacation in Florida due to a 'liver infection - had in fact been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. You know, the scary C word that no one wants to hear. The scary C word accompanied with the word 'pancreatic' well, my friends, its all mildly horrifying and I freaked out Dana style - panic attack with a bout of vomiting. I won't get into the details of how I spent that first 24 hours trying to wrap my head around the fact that my mom had cancer. I mean, for the most part, you always hear of that persons mom having cancer, and that persons dad surviving it, etc etc. Its never your parents - your parents are a pillar of health (you know minus the vericose veins, arthritis, etc etc) and it always happens to everyone but you and your parents. Until it does. And it shakes you.

I spent 24 hours being scared out of my mind, not really knowing too many details, not wanting to research it anymore than I did for that brief moment on wikipedia, just sitting around feeling doom and gloom with that depressing bell jar hanging over my head. Both Gilberto and Steph had gone away for the weekend, so I spent that time sitting alone, not ever speaking to anyone face to face about it, never getting the hug I really wanted, just kind of floating around Geneva while it rained. Stupid Geneva winters. At some point, though, and probably after a conversation with Caroline who promptly told me to stop whining like an idiot and stop freaking out because it wasn't helping anyone and my mom deserved a hell of a lot more than me acting like a wuss (in much nicer words, of course) I figured that if ever there was a time to prove myself to be strong as I thought I was, now was it. I mean, here is my mom dealing with something huge and all I can do is sit around and be weary and scared while she had to comfort me and tell me 'have your little cry now but you can't freak out on me like this, you need to be strong, i need that'. How the hell was I helping by moping around Geneva? How the hell was that going to make anyone feel better? So, Sunday morning, I sat on the edge of my bed, and had a conversation with the Big N. I told her I was scared, but that I thought mom was strong, and that she would be ok. I told her that everyone was scared, and that you know, I wasn't asking for a miracle cure, but that I needed the Big N to make us strong. To help us get through it - whatever IT was or was going to be. We needed courage, and strength, and optimism, and laughter - and I figured if anyone knew how to give it to us, it would have been Nonnie. So I spoke to her, and told her I needed to get over myself, that I needed to believe my mom was going to be ok, and that I did believe it. I told her about my conversation with Caroline, and how I told Caroline to send my mom positive vibes. I told her I thought Caroline might send pot because she's a hippy and thats what positive vibes means to hippies. I think Nonnie got mad at me for that but when I shared it with my mom, she got a good laugh and I finally figured out my place in all this.

The week that followed was stressful, but filled with efforts to keep it light. My mom was able to get all her necessary tests scheduled within the week and we were left playing the waiting game - hoping that test results would show the cancer was treatable, operable, etc. It was interesting, because at times I would be absolutely fine, not a care in the world, laughing and joking as always. And suddenly, at unexpected times, I would get a jolt of nervous energy - both my legs bouncing, tapping at my keyboard, desperate to hear something. I woke up one morning, and looked down to see both my feet twitching wildly, that bout of nervous energy just coursing through me and I hadn't even pulled the comforter off yet. I probably called home more that week than I have the entire time I've been here. My mom, however, whether she was scared or worried or nervous or sick, she didn't show it. There is something about moms that just amazes me. HERE SHE IS, the one who all this worry and stress is for, and SHE'S the pillar of strength and comfort. She's still kissing the webcam like she did way back in September when she first realized she could see me from Switzerland in all my pixelated glory. How the hell does someone do that? Man I'm such a drama queen I don't think I'll ever be that selfless, never have that strength. My Dad too. Here's his life partner facing some pretty important tests, and he's sitting there beside my mom on the webcam laughing at us and calling us weird. How do these people provide comfort and ease to someone A TRILLION MILES AWAY when the entire situation is AT THEIR FEET, its fucking palpable, its RIGHT THERE INFRONT OF THEM, and their sitting around making jokes about field trips to the hospital and telling ME not to worry. Parents! What a crazy breed!

Anyways, Thursday, towards the end of the workday, I got a skype call from my Dad. The camera on his end was discombobulated as always, and while we couldn't make out each other's words perfectly(we sounded like robots), he turned the camera a bit and I could see my mom peering into my computer screen crying. I freaked out Dana style - inside my head, stomach threatening to release all its contents. And then I hear them speak. And then I hear them tell me that they caught the cancer at the earliest possible stage. It is operable, it is treatable. I was told by a fellow co worker who, worried about what the news would be, researched it the night before, that the news was a miracle - amazing. I sent out emails, msn messages, excitement abounded - I told everyone, keep the positive vibes coming.
Keep them coming.
Keep them coming.
and thank you and thank you
And again, we wait.

---------
RIDE A WHITE HORSE - Goldfrapp
"now take me dancing, at the disco"

My secret dream of being a DJ isn't really a secret. I pretty much tell everyone who I have more than three conversations with, and by that point in our relationship I've probably tried to make you listen to this song or that band etc. Heck if you're reading this blog then I've done that to you in such a sneaky way (the song that plays when you arrive on the blog, the songs that play in my home-video blogs, this blog with the 'chapter names' aka my lame attempt to suggest more and more music). I think the thing of it is, I really enjoy music, but I should preface this all to say, that I am not that musically inclined or knowledgable. I know nothing of music pre 1980's - and to be honest, the 80's themselves sometimes have me in a bind. I can't read music notes and know nothing of how a song is constructed, other than understanding - vaguely - what the chorus is. I have failed every attempt to learn guitar. I can't beat match, I can't strum by ear, and I'm pretty sure I'm tone deaf. Genres confuse me. I am about as music illiterate as they come. But I like to share, because there is something just in this practice of sharing music that is fun and interesting and powerful and entertaining. To share that experience, to know that while you may interpret or enjoy a song in one way, someone else might enjoy or interpret a different way - but at the end of the day you're both experiencing something through a great piece of music. So I guess the whole 'I want to be a DJ' thing comes from that desire to share music and to share it in away that others would probably (hopefully) enjoy it.

Anyways, the purpose of all this banter about music has to do with a conversation I had with Thabo a little over two weeks ago while on the bus. I asked Thabo what his plans were for the weekend, and he told me that one of his hobbies was djaying and that he was going to get some vinyl. I think my eyes fell out of my head and my jaw dropped to the bus floor - and it never got picked up, it stayed there the entire time while I asked about 50 questions in one breath: do you spin or mix, do you scratch, what kind of music do you play, what kind of house do you play, where do you play, where is your system, where do you buy vinyl - and most importantly - CAN YOU TEACH ME. Thabo seemed pretty happy to discuss djaying as its something that he's been doing for ages, something that he's getting back into, something that is dear to his heart. He also agreed to give me lessons.

The next Friday we made plans for me to stop by his apartment to get spinning lessons. However, when I called him later that night he told me that he had actually gotten a time at Ethno (ethnio? etno? im not sure) bar (a bar steph went to the week before and told me I would love and absolutely had to check out). So instead of getting lessons, I went to go watch the master at work. Unfortunately, because Steph was leaving for Edinburgh the next day we didn't get to stay long, but watching Thabo spin for the brief period of time that we did certainly did boos my excitement and expectations for my (hopefully) eventual spin lessons. Look out, peoples, DJ Walter is coming soon!

DJ T BOSS (aka Thabo!)

----
HOP A PLANE - Tegan and Sara
"I took the train back, back to where I came from"

Well, Sasha is number....7 on the list of people who have left Geneva in the few months I've been here. Although technically speaking, at the time of writing this, Sasha is still in Geneva and won't be leaving for South Africa until tomorrow morning. Either way, people coming and going is something I've been told you must get used to when living in Geneva - I mean, the city is made up of International students and interns. And its kind of interesting to get used to. To meet really neat people and get along well with them, to only have them take off and leave after only a few short months. Its always ...well..annoying to see people leave, especially when you're left with the question of 'when or will i see you again?'. And I guess it just makes me consider that notion of mine - not to say goodbye to people, because whether or not you see them again isn't the issue - its making sure that the experiences you shared aren't lost. so say see you later - goodbye really shouldn't exist for people you care about.

Anyways while tonight is Sasha's good bye drinks, this weekend we had goodbye cakes at Jean's. And hell, you never had cakes until you had cakes at Jeans. And for all you reading this who may never have the chance to experience cakes at Jeans, I will wear black for a week to mourn your loss.

----
MEMORIZE THE CITY - The Organ "I walked through the streets, and memorized the city, I count every light until I reached the shore"

I took this panorama while walking through the streets of Geneva one night with Steph. We decided to skip French class (I've pretty much decided to skip French class until the new year - and whether I return is another thing) and go to dinner at Banana Leaf (the cheap thai place). Because red / green curry wasn't on the plat du jour, we decided to try other things - I got some kind of malasian dish which was supposed to be spicy but wasn't - just really thick. And Steph got sweet and sour chicken...I think. All unimportant. We were full when we finished and thus decided to walk home because we had seen some interesting lights on the 'island' (and island in the middle of the river which you can walk up on). The strange boxy light things turned out to be holding plants in them. As we wandered around this general area we came accross an outdoor rink, and excitedly we decided to go skating - even though the place was only open for another 40 minutes. We payed around 7 francs for our skate rental, which was a few francs more than we paid at the indoor rink. And you think that for paying more money you'd get better quality skates.
But thats wrong.
This place only had one type of skate - some weird boys figure skates - and their sizes were messed up - and they didn't hang on to your shoes for you, so if they got stolen, then too bad your loss. Anyways it was pretty ridiculous as my skates were too small and Stephs skates were too big and we stopped every half way lap around the rink because we were either going to wipe out or because our feet were threatening to fall off and leave us forever. We didn't stay the entire forty minutes to say the least, but hey - at least we got a small story out of it.
I then convinced Steph to come back to the foyer with me so I could get my camera. And then I took this photo.

We returned to the outdoor skating rink again on Saturday night because it was World AIDS Day and we participated in the march that was being held (we caught up to the marchers late, while they were passing the skating rink). It wasn't a long march but it had a pretty good turn out and offered us free hot wine afterwards. We then all went to the soiree afterwards where I mistakenly ate some kind of sushi and nearly barfed all over myself. I've been thinking a lot about what I would like to do after my internship, and while I know that I will probably go towards the communications and multimedia feild, I can't help but think that maybe I would really like to continue working for an NGO's. I think I need to narrow my thoughts on what specific type of NGO I would enter.. When I was considering law, you know, way back when - when I thought I was smart enough to be a lawyer and that all you needed to be good at was delivery speeches - I always thought I would go into family law. So ... I dunno. Its interesting being this age and having to figure out where your fit is. Constantly needing to narrow down, get specific. I've always wanted to do everything, I always worry about leaving something out. Being happy that I'm here but worrying about what I'm missing. Its interesting, you know.... being me.

----

Well, I guess I have a lot of other little stories to divulge here and there, and maybe I can make my blog less threatening to read by writing them down more often, as they happen rather than trying to spew it all out in one massive short non-fiction novel. And I'll try to do that... you know...break it down.

Until then, here are some other things to mention:

* I had another photo featured on CBCRadio3 which was terrific!
* Steph, Harold and I attended a really awkward Advent dinner at the foyer, it was awkward because there weren't very many people there and well...it was just generally strange
* I had signed up for laundry about three times until I finally got to do some last night, however, the night I finally get to do laundry is the night the machine decides to conk out and not go through the rinse cycle. Meaning I had to reach into a pool of dirty water to fish out my socks and my clothes are still dripping and smell even worse than when I put them in the damn machine!
* I rediscovered ebay upon getting some updated credit card info, and bought, and recieved, an old school casio digital watch. Most people get excited by the fact that I'm wearing something 15 years old and that they (or their dad) used to own. Some people flat out tell me they don't like it because its not cute (although my excitement about it, is)

what goes around...comes around

2007-11-26T05:01:00.000-08:00

aka, a video of us skating in a circle
aka, a video mostly of steph and yuri skating in a circle with some shots of other people also skating (ME INCLUDED)

song
Fire Eye'd Boy - Broken Social Scene

noises in the darkness

2007-11-21T03:23:00.000-08:00

OH LOOK: It's Tegan and Sara performing live!

OH LOOK: It's Heidelberg, Germany.

OH LOOK: It's Steph and I traveling!

Hmmmm, this all looks vaguely like March 8th.
Get excited - I am.

National Anthem of Nowhere (pt 3)

2007-11-19T06:14:00.000-08:00

photo and video blog

AMSTERDAM

I really wanted to get a shot of the canals at night - unfortunately a sandwich affected my ability to do so. It was at this canal that I met the guy from London (I can't for the life of me remember his name, something that starts with a N or a T or a L - or has those letters in it). He joked with me because his camera was quite small, old, and being held together with tape (he asked me to take his photo infront of the canal) while mine is a bit more impressive (comparatively). Like Switzerland (or Geneva) and Milan, bike riding is quite a popular mode of transportation in Amsterdam - hence why I felt the need to include these nifty bike handles in the shot.

Incase I was ever confused as to what the protest in Amsterdam was about, there were these friendly blood-stained bears to give me a visual. Something tells me they wouldn't be caught doing the bear dance for laughs.

Various protesters (and the german rapper) who gathered at this animal rights thing. It was pretty much a gathering of punks and scene kids and hippies - which lead me to believe that something more exciting would happen. It didn't. But I did leave early, so who knows - maybe they all bombarded an animal testing center and threw molotov cocktails and released cats and monkeys onto the streets of Amsterdam. If that happened, I missed it - so all you have to look at is somewhat passive protesters. My apologies for not sticking it out.

PRAGUE

Police and police tanks and protesters etc etc - i.e. all the extra security that was roaming the streets of Prague - you see, when they have a demonstration they expect a bit more antagonizing from participants (versus Amsterdam). It was all pretty intense, with about four of those tanks preceded and followed by multiple police vans charging down the street at one point. Of course, as mentioned, I just stood there thinking 'cool, television has completely altered my sense of reality and the probably violence they are expecting seems incredibly exciting to little ol' sheltered me'. I don't know what is more terrifying.

After breakfast at a Tesco, Steph and I were waiting outside for the boys when I noticed a fire in the garbage can (probably started because of the ash tray sitting atop of it). I tried to put it out with my water bottle. Luckily just as the boys exited the grocery store so did a store manager -- with a bucket of water.

Views from atop the astrological clock tower. It was rather difficult to get a group shot - stupid lighting. But pretty gorgeous to look from it (ps. note the overuse of 'increase saturation')

Steph, Ashley (our American hostel friend) and I at the Jazz bar that made those terrific mojitos.

Pictures from the St Charles bridge. Good view. and stuff. I don't really think this all requires a long caption.

Standard 'Dana traveling' shot

Video of police roaming and running around Prague.
Song: Riot by Dead Kennedy's

National Anthem of Nowhere (pt 2)

2007-11-15T12:30:00.000-08:00

PRAGUE

After the Amsterdam ordeal (which was a nice followup to the Paris debacle), I only spent a few days back in Geneva until I was scheduled to go on another trip with Steph, Gilberto, and Mattia (Gilberto's friend from Milan). As I prepared travel to Prague, I made a mental list of all the things that I could possibly be afflicted with while traveling the Czech Republic: plague, pink eye, albuminurophobia (fear of kidney disease), SARS, tennis elbow, ear infection, west nile virus, sinus infection, acid reflux, rheumatoid arthritis, hang nail, mumps, alopecia, cold sores, carpel tunnel, tonsillitis, hay fever, avian bird flu, exema, arachnophobia, angina, premature baldness, chicken pox, diabetes, mono, and ptosis. I did what I could to ensure that if cursed with one or more of these diseases I would know all possible symptoms, treatments, cures, and known causes ahead of time.

Gilberto and Steph left on Thursday night, giving them (and Mattia) a full 24 hours in Prague without me. Friday morning, while in a meeting, I received a message from Gilberto - he told me they were having a great time so far and that I shouldn't exchange money in Geneva because they found a really great place to exchange money in Prague. He also said that Mattia had had his wallet stolen and a girl staying in our hostel had had her camera stolen - at that I was pretty happy I hadn't brought my camera but started to get a touch nervous about how safe my belongings would be. Then I figured, that despite the thefts, Gilberto had said they were having a great time nonetheless and I decided instead to get very excited for a fun weekend trip away.

Once I arrived in Prague, about an hour later than anticipated due to a flight delay, I ran into Steph at the hostel* front desk. She told me she had to speak to me, that the trip so far had been interesting. Based on tone and urgency I worried that there had been a fight a blow out a something that had caused a rift. She said no, nothing like that...exactly. She reminded me about Mattia and the girl who's stuff had been stolen. She then told me about how Gilberto's great money exchange place had actually ripped him off. That he created quite an interesting scene at the exchange place. And that he had pretty much done everything short of punching his fist through the glass and stealing his money back. 'shit' - - 'he told me not to exchange money' // 'i know, don't bring it up'. I entered our room to be greeted by Gilberto who was hanging out his top bunk - I laughed pretty much as soon as I saw him and of course got to hear the whole story from his side, which was just as hilarious as Steph's third person account. After some discussion we all realized that we were all up shit creek without a paddle - we had no money. Gilberto couldn't use his credit card because, for the same reason I couldn't, it had been replaced by the credit card company and he didn't have the new one. Mattia's wallet had been stolen. I had 240 Swiss Francs - pretty worthless in Prague without being exchanged - and would remain pretty worthless provided the exchange places were all down with ripping tourists like us off. Steph had her credit card. Saving grace.

We all talked a bit more, when Steph remembered that they had got me something. She quickly rifled through her bag and took out three airplane barf bags - just incase. Embarrassed, I laughed, scolded them...then took the bags and put them in my backpack for safe keeping; because hey - if we all wound up eating some bad goulash then you better believe that I wasn't going to be the one barfing all over myself. Been there, done that, time for karma to bite them in the ass. At some point during our conversation I told the others that technically this wasn't my room 'but look - i saved you this bed' (thanks Steph, bottom bunk and all so I don't embarrass myself by being too scared / unable to get to the top) and that I would have to sleep in a different room with 11 strangers versus 8 strangers and 3 friends. Luckily a couple from New York who had been resting near us (ok well technically everyone in the room was near us, they were just a lot closer) piped up and mentioned that they had to book two beds but only ever needed/used one when traveling. That bed Steph saved for me, was actually free.

We stood around chatting for a bit more, and after some convincing, Steph and I got Gilberto and Mattia out of their bunks and into the streets of Prague. Seeing as how I had just come off a flight (re:irrational fears, high stress, intense anxiety) I was fighting with an empty tummy and a limited amount of money. Our bar hopping (not really staying but more so checking out the 'smoke factor') brought us into downtown Prague where I finally quenched my hunger with some keilbasa street meat. The cheapest meal purchased in Prague, and probably my absolute favourite. There's just something about the mustard in Europe too - its like thirteen times better than the yellow crap we have back in North America - its not as acidic, not as brightly colored, and compliments food really well. But, I digress. We randomly wound up in a bar in the basement of a building. The walls were adorned with really cool vector art, it was playing (somewhat quitely) European metal over the speakers (which Gilberto liked), and it lacked the 60-years-worth-of-second-hand-smoke that the other bars possessed. We didn't stay long (the bartender seemed to ignore Gilberto when he went up to get us second rounds) but still seemed to call it in late. We all tumbled into our beds that night and slept well into the morning - ahh sleeping in while traveling, a luxury!

The next day we spent walking through Prague doing touristy things - such as eating Czech pastries for breakfast, checking out the St Charles bridge and 'dancing building', eating at a restaurant that boasted having authentic Czech food, and exploring the old town. We also stopped by an anti-fascist meeting and posed in front of police tanks that were spotted all over the city. Now this, my friends, is out of the ordinary, as is the multitude of police officers we saw in riot gear all over the city (including the large group getting debriefed and going over maps near parliament). Upon seeing all this intense policing I got rather excited and tried to figure out what kind of movie we were in: "an action film!" - "a crime drama! I want to be a detective and get in on this - lets find the fugitive" - "a political movie!" (or you know, a psychological drama about a girl who completely looses touch with reality). Anyhow, seeing as I am not the Truman show, we found some press agents and asked them if they knew what was actually going on with the security beef. They informed us that there was a meeting of fascists(?) and there was worry about riots in response (because, when have you honestly heard of a peaceful fascist meeting 'well today boys, we'll start by having a cup of tea and ice breaker games, move on to accounting and logistics, discuss plans for world domination over crumpets, vote on which social group we will focus on victimizing for the next trimester, and then joe is going to tell us about his tripple bypass surgery and i think we'll call it in early for today and hold tomorrows meeting in the botanical gardens while planting some arugula - sound like a plan?' 'oh yes, yes, but can we move the crumpets to around 2 o clock i can't handle pastry so early in the morning, i have indigestion'). Gilberto asked where they were anticipating activity, we were told, informed to steer clear. We thanked the press dude and headed straight for the action.

We wound up at an anti-neo nazi gathering where people waved flags and posters and wore the star of david on their chest. We hung around for a bit, the gather being much larger than the animal rights protest in Amsterdam, but not as spirited. We decided that maybe there would be no crazy violent protest, and that the police were just over reacting - so we moved on and ate lunch.

Towards the end of the day, Steph and I split up from Gilberto and Mattia. They went to see the communism museum and we went shopping and to a black light show.

NEVER
EVER
IN YOUR LIFE
GO TO A BLACK LIGHT SHOW TITLED FAUST
IN PRAGUE

Seriously

I don't know how to explain this. We went to this Black Light show expecting something along the lines of Famous People Players - you know, really cool props and music and a stunning use of black lights.
Instead we got half a black light show.
YEAH
HALF
you see the people at this theatre decided to use actors throughout the entire show - which also required them to use white light - which obviously made the black light pretty useless since every prop and secret was visible, despite their lame attempts to hide it. There was also a plot.
Apparently.
I didn't quite catch it. Some guy makes a deal with the devil, then he becomes good looking (according to whose standards, I'm not quite sure, the dude could have used a bit more of the 'extreme makeover' if you ask me) then he learns to fly, and winds up hanging out with giant penguins that flap around (dancing maybe? I have no flipping clue, it was so ridiculous, they were just flapping their big fleece arms around like crazy peop...penguins) and sing about loving snow and freezing weather all the while the dude flies around with the devil. and there were cats. or ladies dressed like cats. that did what i assume was a dance choreographed by the local elementary school. and there were dragons. or dragon like creatures. or people dressed like dragons. and i say that because the white light showed their faces in the giant masks they wore. the people dressed like dragons seemed as unimpressed with the show as i was. you see it was only an hour show, and before it began we both were upset that it wouldn't have been longer - because you know, that famous people player black light show, i could handle that for a good 2 hours. of course once this craptastic show began we quickly realized that we couldn't handle much more than 20 minutes - because thats how long it took me to fall asleep (only to be awoken by giant penguins). something happened in the end that concluded this torture...actually...i think it was a torture scene. and the guy gets redeemed. but gets to keep his mediocre...sorry - his good looks. then they bowed and i died inside because it wasn't a joke leading up to the actual black light show... or maybe it was.... a big joke on us tourists, 'haha you paid 400 of our monnies to watch this crap - we make it up as we go along'.
steph and i tried to figure out what we missed
maybe we were supposed to drink absinthe
maybe we missed the tray of acid
how the hell did that work for ANYONE? WHAT DID WE NOT DO?
we got screwed.
DONT GO.
or go but be really freaking wasted.

Exhausted by the agonizing Black Light show Steph and I hurried back to the hostel hoping to beat Gilberto and Mattia so that we could go to sleep and not bothered. However, in our hostel room the American's were awaking from a nap and day out on the town and proposed that we join them for a drink. I told them 'first I have to nap', however, they began a conversation about not having control over your body while in a strange city, and I quickly sat up and launched into the horrid tale of Amsterdam and the sub that nearly killed me. Soon after Gilberto and Mattia arrived and although only partially rested Steph and I joined the group for a night out in Prague.

The 6 of us wound up at a cool jazz bar that happened to make some of the best tasting mojitos i've ever tried. Now I'm not generally one for mohitos, and I think it is because they usually taste too strongly of mint, and for whatever reason, mint plus alcohol just taste like mouthwash to me. These mohitos, we determined, were so good because while they had mint in them, the mint was mostly over powered by lime (probably bar mix). Anyways, the mohitos were flowing and at one point Steph and I (who started sharing drinks as to make it appear that we were being much more responsible than we probably actually were) began to question how the hell we were going to pay for them. ... some thoughts on conversion rate...'can i have another?'. [we split the tab with whatever cash we had then I put it on my debit card - for those who were concerned that I may have dined and dashed]. Suffice to say, while at the jazz club we enjoyed some good conversation - good in that it was friendly and funny and probably offensive to Americans - although, the Americans we were with seemed more entertained than offended. We walked back home and ate the best post-bar food ever - street keilbassa. Seriously people, you must have it. MUST. notice the MUST. it's not just best post-bar food, its best any time food. I swear any time convenience in Hamilton should just sell street meat from now on.

Sunday was spent doing 'not so much' - we again split up from Gilberto and Mattia in the morning, and headed to a mall. At this point all of us were in debt, had no money, and were scrounging for coins when having to pay for lunch. Of course, Gilberto and Mattia were much worse off than Steph and I as they were caught riding the metro without a ticket (on their way to church, no less) and had to bribe the officer dude with their loose change in order to get off the hook. Later that day as Gilberto took Mattia back to the hostel and to send him off (flight to Italy earlier than flight to Geneva) Steph and I wandered, and on a whim decided to bust out the credit card so that we could see the Dali and Mucha exhibit. It was the only museum/gallery that we went into, and while we probably missed a lot of history and art in the other museums, I think we were pretty damn well satisfied with all the amazing art work that we met inside this tiny exhibit. It was a very nice way to end our trip in Prague (although technically we ended it in coffee heaven playing some strange paper football game that Gilberto used to play in 5th grade, but that doesn't really count at all). And I think the combination of the two exhibits pretty well summed our time in that wonderful city - a little crazy mixed with a lot of beautiful imagery.

And that my friends, was Prague.

*Entering the hostel took a bit of work. You see first they explain in the instructions to cross the street, turn left and walk 30 meters to the hostel. However, you merely have to turn left as crossing the road brings you to the wrong side of the street - and these instructions are made for those walking - so it was rather confusing to walk for a couple of blocks and realize that you are nowhere near number 52 and that you probably passed it ten minutes ago. Anyways, once arriving to the door its like a freaking scavenger hunt to figure out how to get it. First I pushed the door, repeatedly, then a voice barked at me from the speaker telling me not to push the door. So I stopped. Then it said to push the button so I did. Then I pushed the door. Then I got yelled at not to push the door. So I stopped. Then the door started opening at a pace that would make a snail angrier than a Texan at a Civil Rights protest. Then I was yelled at again - about pushing the door - which I wasn't doing, so I figured I was supposed to, and when I did I was yelled at again for pushing the door open! Dear God man! Decide on what you want me to do to enter this building, sleep on your crummy makeshift bunk bed, and pay you 12 euros! Eventually I got in, but with no direction I walked aimlessly to a court yard and tried to get into another door that had a sign 'hostel' posted above it. When I couldn't enter I asked two guys who were smoking, and they tried to open the door (which I saw them just exit from) and fail. They then asked some other guy (who I later determined was the one who barked at me in that terrifying accent from the speaker box) and he said I had to check in - WELL FREAKING DUH MAN, where the hell do I go to do that? He took me, I checked in, I ran into Steph.

National Anthem of Nowhere (pt 1)

2007-11-12T08:41:00.000-08:00

I spent the first two weekends in November traveling and both trips, while event-filled, were very very different.

Consider this the first of a three part blog (AMSTERDAM / PRAGUE / PHOTO)

AMSTERDAM

The beginning of November, the 1-5, was spent in Amsterdam, where I became very familiar with the toilets in the Netherlands. And no, not because I 'lived it up' and got 'totally shmammered' (by the way, phrases like 'shmamered' or any other strange mashup of words used to describe being drunk, really really irk me - never say them around me, I'll probably hit you in the back of the head for sounding like a 20 year old football player who wears polo shirts and a tattered baseball cap and drinks crap beer ). Anyways, it wasn't because I 'lived it up' in Amsterdam like most kids my age are supposed to. It was because I got food poisoning, from a Subway no less.

Before I launch into this disgusting tale of my amazing display of digestive pyrotechnics, I should preface by saying that unfortunately my Aunt had said to me weeks earlier that you will never forget what it was like seeing these cities for the first time. To which I replied 'well that pisses me off, I nearly killed my self walking through Paris when I had shin splints!' and she laughed and said that when I do Paris again in a chauffeured car (because you know, us webmasters make the big dough!) I would look back and laugh and say 'remember when I nearly killed myself walking through the Champs Ilysse with shin splints! lookitmenow!'.

If I ever wind up in Amsterdam again, I'll have a laugh. Thats for sure. 'remember when I threw up here? and there? and THERE?' oh yes, to the story then.

I went to the Netherlands because I wanted to see Amsterdam (what person in their early twenties doesn't?) and because my friend Anthony - one of the first people I ever met in University - had recently moved there. Anthony lives just 20 minutes outside Amsterdam and so it is necessary to train it down to the city to see where all the action is. I arrived Thursday night and we called it in early as flying usually wears me down (yes even one hour flights - its called irrational fear, high stress, and nerves). Friday I was shown around Anthony's little village which was quite beautiful, complete with a gorgeous bending river lined with quaint shops and trees. We also went to a neighboring city which was small but busy, stayed indoors and watched plenty of MTV and Discovery channel as an attempt to stay dry while it was raining, and then made our way to Amsterdam at night to check out a bar that Anthony really liked and wanted to show me and to wander the red light district. Now my mom warned me before I traveled 'don't go to the red light district' - but it was something I wanted to see and honestly you can't go to Amsterdam and ignore such a large part of their culture and history. And so, as we walked by the prostitutes in the window Anthony said 'I really hope you don't feel objectified'. And quite honestly I didn't, I didn't even think very much of it. In fact for the most part I couldn't understand why these women would invest in black lights if they were just going to wear black. It seemed rather counterintuitive. I suppose though, that I didn't have the 'shocked' reaction anticipated because quite frankly, I expected to see exactly what I saw. And I imagine the hundreds of other tourists walking the district with us were having the same feelings of detachment and apathy. And perhaps that is because there we were, all together, being tourists, wandering the streets of one city's red light district, and not paying too much mind to what was actually happening. We were all tourists outright, the spectacle was expected and we absorbed it - said 'isn't that interesting' and went on to find the next thing to entertain us in the town. And actually, initially we were going to check out this - allegedly - great jazz club, but after our night walk we decided against it and figured we would just do it Saturday night. And so after having a couple of beers and walking the city we called it in, and I looked forward to a whole day of seeing the city in the day light, when I would be armed with my camera and a renewed sense of adventure!

Now, that day - saturday - Anthony, who is very interested in pursuing a career in beer brewing, went to a local brewery to watch a team brew. I decided that rather than wait around until 6, that I would go to Amsterdam on my own. Anthony and I made plans to ensure we had a way in the apartment so that whoever got there first wouldn't be hanging around waiting for the other, and so that morning I was off to explore. My first stops in Amsterdam were the H&M's - searching for a sweater I had seen in Geneva but had never been able to find in my size. A similar problem occured in Amsterdam. After my failed shopping, I continued to wander and take photos every so often, and suddenly as the rumble in my tummy got louder I started keeping my eye out for a place to eat. And suddenly I saw, a Subway sandwich shop tucked away nicely on a little street. Just days earlier I had said to Gilberto 'I really miss Subway' - it was my homebase for a while, my main source of nutrition for nearly a month while working on my thesis. I decided that I would eat a sandwich, check out the Van Gogh museum, get hungry again and go to the pancake bakery suggested to me by another intern. Excitedly I ordered my turkey sub, ate it quickly, and was on my way. I wandered Amsterdam a bit more, making my way back to the main train station so that I could catch the tram to Van Gogh. I stumbled upon an animal rights protest, and hung around taking pictures of the punks that gathered to speak out about exploitation of animals (I assume that this is what the protest about based on the people dressed as blood soaked animals and the various Dutch paraphernalia being distributed with animals all over them). There was a German rapper, and a speaker, and kids holding signs and banners and while it looked like something big was going to be underway, no major crazy Dutch protest ever happened and as it started to rain I decided I had had enough of pretending to participate in something I didn't understand anyways.

I finally made it onto the tram about 2 hours after my lunch at the aforementioned subway. The tram offered quite a shaky ride and I started feeling like I was getting some sort of intense motion sickness. I started getting the chills followed by a fever like sweat, and I assumed that once outdoors and off the tram-of-death I would feel much better. However, upon entering the Van Gogh museum the fever like symptoms remained and the nausea got progressively worse and worse. I checked my bag and jacket and decided I was just hot, and continued my way into the gallery. I saw about ten paintings and read one little biographical tidbit before deciding to sit down so I could gather myself. Suddenly people started surrounding me, I became overwhelmed and more feverish and that nauseous feeling decided to hit me in one big wave and soon I was booting it to the bathroom downstairs. Of course the line up to the ladies washroom was eleven people long, so without of a baby, and without even being pregnant, I burst into the baby change station and threw up all over it.

After cleaning myself up, and the toilet, I decided to attempt to see some more Van Gogh. I walked somewhat unevenly back to the same spot I stood before I had left the gallery, and I tried to rush myself to a second room in an attempt to see another series of paintings..rushing because I knew it was mere moments before I would need to book it back to the bathroom. I suppose I underestimated because as I crooked my neck to see what possible masterpieces might lurk behind the corner, I felt the familiar convulsions of involuntary vomiting, and had to quickly 180 and tumble down the stairs to the bathroom - where this time I waited patiently in line, swallowing what I could until I made it into the stall whose floor and toilet I would be acquainted with for the next ten minutes.

After picking myself up off the floor I decided against making a third attempt to see any Van Gough and figured it was probably time to go home. I walked to the tram, shivering and feverish, hoping for a quick ride back to the train station followed by a quick ride home.

The tram, although quick, was packed with people, full to its fullest extent. Luckily I was able to grab a seat before the influx of commuters. And as I sat there as more and more people got on, I started to feel that familiar feeling - the one where a simple cough can result in you barfing in your hand. I tried to fight it, but soon enough my body gave up and out of nowhere I threw up in mouth. I struggled and swallowed it, my face probably beat red and sweating profusely. And just as someone hovering over me said 'this is the wrong place to be if your claustrophobic' i threw up again, this time into my hand. On one hand I was lucky to have completely emptied my stomach at the Van Gogh museum because all I had to deal with was sticky bile and not orange chunks of semi digested turkey meat on parmesan oregano bread. On the other hand, I just barfed in my hand and completely grossed out the girl beside me (who promptly got up and off at the next stop). I tried to wipe my hand off on my bag and wipe my face on my sleeve - none of which I think mattered at all because covered in barf or not, I was feeling sick as a dog and probably looked like it.

After that moment of extreme embarrassment and grossness, I got off the tram and entered the main train station. First things first, I thought. There was no way I was going to be caught barfing all over myself again, so I went into a small shop and bought a whack of stroop waffles (for those who had requested them) and a large bottle of evian. At this point I hadn't realized I had food poisoning and that I was going to vomit whenever something entered my stomach, all I knew was I cold and sweaty and shaky and my mouth tasted like barf. I bought the products and asked for some bags, at the counter - I was handed a stack of paper bags, I used one to carry the waffles and the other as my 'just incase' barf bag.

As I walked through the train station, cold, feverish, sweating, and downing as much Evian as possible, I realized that I wasn't positive where my train would be picking me up. I went up on to platform 8b because thats how we got home the night before - but the platform was empty and the sign was blank and I could not fathom sitting and waiting until later that night when the train would be passing through that track so I wandered up and down quickly to see if track 8a was occupied, but gave up quickly as I found myself getting slightly disoriented. I figured I was better off reading the maps downstairs. However, this plan wasn't well thought out (imagine that) and I spent quite a bit of time shuffling between maps and city lists, staring at them blankly as beads of sweat gathered on my brow and dripped down into my line of vision. Fortunately in my poisoned stupor I was able to spot an information desk.

The lady at the information desk seemed somewhat unimpressed with me - and I assume that she was giving me 'that look' not because I couldn't speak the language (main train station at a big tourist city - I'm sure she didn't care) and she wasn't the only giving me 'that look' you know - the look - the 'ooooh great another drunk american wandering our city and vomiting all over themselves'. EXCEPT I WASNT DRUNK, I WAS POISONED! (by an american company, I guess its all karma related). Anyways she informed me that indeed my train would be on track 8a in 30 minutes. I thanked her, stumbled away, as more people lined up at the information desk shot me 'that look'. About 30 meters past the information desk I became incredibly grateful that I had enough presence of mind to be carrying a 'just incase barf bag' as I stopped by a column, trying to hold myself up as another wave of nausea hit. And soon I was projectile barfing into this paper bag nearly half a litre of water. And of course, being a paper bag, it didn't hold long and eventually I was barfing into a leaking bag and surrounded by a puddle of water. I put the bag down, made a move to go, then realized, 'nope, nope, that wasn't all of it' picked up the leaking bag (because at least I could make it SEEM like I was trying not to mess up the Amsterdam train station) and empty the rest of my stomach contents. I wearily placed the bag down, and tried to remember where the hell the information desk lady told me to go as I walked in the general direction of the tracks.

Somehow I wound up on track 8a, only semi disoriented (which surprised me considering how physically sick I was; usually vomiting this much meant I was not only physically out of commission but mentally, yet I still seemed to have my wits about me - somewhat). I got on the train, still getting those 'another american drunk kid' looks and sat with a mother and her young daughter; 'friggin perfect', i thought. This girl is undoubtedly going to see me throw up into this here barf bag, she's going to think I'm drunk out of my ming, she's going to be scared and have some sort of traumatic child hood experience to tell a therapist in about 7 and a half years 'well doctor, the nightmares started just after I watched that drunk American barf all over themselves on the train'. So I thought, well if I'm going to be sick I'm going to be discrete about it. Though I don't know how discrete some chick red, sweating, smelling of vomit, ever is. I mean, talk about the elephant in the living room. Her mother and her, however, merely looked away as I silently coughed and hacked into the barf bag, and didn't really pay any mind when I tried to secretly dispose of the barf bag in the little trash bin located under the window. I just sat there and silently moaned and held my head and waited and waited until my stop. I got off, shivering and sweating and started the long 5 minute tortuous walk back to the apartment - where I barfed another two times while waiting for Anthony to get home.

Anthony was met by a foul smell in his apartment and me exiting the bathroom stating simply 'i'm so fucking sick'. I explained to him my ordeal, the fact that I hadn't eaten anything and was now barfing yellow bile mixed with blood. He told me about how great the brewery was, and twenty minutes later I threw up again, and he got me some advil realizing that I was really sick. My stomach was hurting, intense cramps from the amount I had vomited in 4 hours, my back was killing me from carrying around a backpack all day, and every muscle in my body was ready to detach from my body just to escape. Anthony looked up symptoms and treatments online. I laid on the couch, we watched tv, I threw up a bit more, I sweated, I shivered, I tried to sleep, I drank water.
Repeat for Sunday.

Monday, my last day, I was still feverish, but with a minor appetite and without barfing in 24 hours. Anthony however, got slapped in the face with the flu. I bought him gravol, advil, and we spent the (rainy) day inside watching TV and complaining about how much it sucked to be so sick. A part of me laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. The audacity of our immune systems to make us so violently ill when we hadn't seen each other in 4.5 months! Oh but of course, but of course this would happen. It was Murphy's Law in action, and the best we could do was vomit on it, laugh at it, and blog about it.

Despite it all, it was a good weekend. I got to see and hang out with a good friend (and it doesn't matter how disgusting both of us were, or how sickly we left his apartment smelling with all our combined illness). It was nice to see a familiar face, to have time away from work, and to be able to come back with a killer story about the first time in Amsterdam. And when I return to that city, I will have memories - not just another street, not just another public transit station - but a place where I got as sick as I had ever been, where I fought against the faults of my own body and crapped out immune system and got myself home. And I know that this whole post probably made my mom uneasy - BUT LOOK AT ME MOM, IM ALIVE, IM WELL, IM FINDING THE SILVER LINING...and I'm pretty fucking tough. I'm a survivor. BRING IT ON SUBWAY, INFECT ME AGAIN, I'LL SHOW YOU.
(actually I probably won't ever another sub for like, 7 months)

Another great thing about the trip, was that while I was sick and struggling to find my way home, no one helped me 'another drunk american'. However, while there was that moment where I had to contemplate what the hell is wrong with people today, there were moments on the trip where I was quite pleased with the kindness you find in individuals. I met, for example, while traveling Amsterdam early Saturday morning, a really nice guy who was studying in England and in Amsterdam for a few days on a trip. I took his picture for him and we spoke briefly about what we were doing and that was that. It was one of the most pleasant conversations I had had with a stranger in ages (usually in Geneva dudes who are strangers and talk to you are usually middle aged drunk men slurring words and trying to get you to drink with them - and you know...great). Also while in the airport waiting to go home, I went to buy a bottle of water - however I was 50 cents short and was unable to. So I circled around a bit trying to find a cheaper vendor, but couldn't, and finally sat down at the cafe where I had first attempted to buy water. I was sweating, probably still looking like another drunk american kid, when a british man stopped by my table, handed me a bottle of water, and said 'this is for you'. I was shocked, startled, but managed a sincere thank you as he turned and walked away. It amazed me, because, quite frankly (and not to be patting myself on the back) but usually I'm the one giving strangers an extra ten cents or buying one franc pie tarts for the guy outside Co-Op (grocery store) - I've never really been on the receiving end of such generosity from a stranger - and I guess its because I'm really quite lucky with what I have that I've never needed a handout. But it feels good, when your down and out to have someone, you don't know, with no motive, to just help you out. Suddenly your not so alone, suddenly the water is that much more refreshing, and suddenly you realize that maybe there's hope for all of us yet.

and that my friends, was Amsterdam.

judy is a punk

2007-11-08T08:09:00.001-08:00

to be added to: random crap found in geneva and surrounding areas as captured on my camera phone.

except this was captured on steph's camera phone.

backstory:
we got off the bus at cornavin (main train station) and saw these two punks in such perfect punk get up, better than the majority of punks you see around here - steph pointed them out and we frantically attempted to take a photo. however, we failed miserably and started following them attempting to get a picture. but camera phones are not made to take photos while moving. so i decided, screw it, lets get a video. except camera phones aren't that great at video either. so we chased these guys around for a couple of blocks trying to get a good shot of them. we failed miserably. but the results are hillarious.....we think...probably not.

we did this for justin and laura.

song: Rock and Roll High School The Ramones

anyways. they pretty much looked like replicas of Felix from Laura and I's thesis project:

This Photograph is Proof

2007-10-29T03:39:00.000-07:00

While in Geneva and surrounding areas I find myself discovering things that I think others from back home would appreciate. Luckily I have recently purchased a cell phone with a camera, so while I may not have my giant SLR strapped around my neck at all times I still have the opportunity to capture these things to share with you all. Consider this the first of, what will hopefully be many, blogs falling under this category:

Random Crap Found In Geneva and Surrounding Areas Captured on My Cell Phone Camera

this photo is for Nikolett. Back in the day when we both lived in the 'village' and both attended those great ol 'corn roasts' and skating parties, we would frequently return to her house to watch hiddeously bad family channel movies. One such film, was "Johnny Tsunami" about a snowborder turned surfer...or surfer turned snowboarder...anyways he was discriminated against cos you know snowboarders aren't surfers....or surfers aren't snowboarders...people didn't like him...but his grandfather did, he liked him so much he called him porno. "hey porno" became a frequent saying between us. And now, 6 years later, and while in Geneva, in the grocery store, I discover the sequel, advertised in the video section. It looks like Johnny has become a skater, it also looks like he changed his last name to Kapahala. Maybe he was put into witness protection because those snowboarders beat him up and he had to point them out in a lineup. Or maybe his grandad took that 'hey porno' thing too far. Either way there's been some drama, obviously, and it looks like now he's a skater and that means that there can only be more drama! oh boy!

So around the time that Laura was consulting with me about her halloween costume i found this car with this strange zombie sticker on the hood. I figured it was suitable to take a picture of to show her as all her costume ideas involved her being zombified. You know, Rizzo from Grease....but as a zombie....a zombie werewolf.....a thug that was zombified....a zombie that was a zombie - you get the idea. Anyways I figured if she ever came to Geneva then we would have to find this car so she could hot wire it and drive around in the zombie car. It just seemed suiting.

This goes out to all my Degrassi hommies. Pretty much, story here is, I was in Champion, the grocery store in Ferney, France that we go to once or twice a month for cheap food, and as I was wandering the book section (its more of a small one room mall than a grocery store) I found these gems - French Degrassi books. I was, to say the least, excited and dumbfounded. I was so freaking happy too that I had my cell phone one me and that I could take a picture of this, I mean who would believe Degrassi would make its way to France if I didn't take a photo for proof. Damn, I'm so Canadian it hurts.

Take Me Anywhere

2007-10-27T10:15:00.001-07:00

Somewhat of an overdue photo / video blog.

VIDEOS

Venice, Milan and Paris

song: Memorize the City The Organ

(watch it all my friends, watch it all)

The E Tower
song: Guilty Cubicles Broken Social Scene

PHOTOS
From Jo's going away dinner.

wannabe

2007-10-24T02:21:00.000-07:00

Steph and I are going to see Spice Girls in London, on January 13.
London + Spice Girls = beyond awesome.

i'm so excited that I'm jealous of me.

saturdays reprise

2007-10-22T00:23:00.000-07:00

had something of a productive weekend.

i got my guitar restringed, which i had been meaning to do since september
however it's dangerously out of tune, and while i can simply retune it, im scared that the strings might break again, and further more, the bottom e string seems to be perma broken, becoming actually physically lower than the other strings when tightened, then when loosening, bouncing back and scaring the crap out of me. i want to take it in to get fixed but i also don't want the music people to laugh at me. its quite the predicament.
I did three loads of laundry, all in succession - which is so totally unheard of
I went to two squater's bars and when warning a friend that she'd get herpes from the bathroom, I decided that it was a pretty cool place. This makes me wonder about my standards for cool - apparently it means as grungy as possible - or just, unusual. I guess.
I bought new sneakers - that i had been meaning to buy since july. they were on sale and i got them at a really decent price.

Things I didn't do this weekend that I should have:

GRE words - I let that fall by the wayside this weekend, and I should probably get more of a move on since I promised myself that I should be starting practice tests by December.
Freelance - I got a couple of things done but when I came into work to work on it I spent more time calling people or trying to call people or watching videos on youtube than I did working and I only went through a couple of the emails in my inbox - that just sit there and mock me - those stupid emails. stop mocking me emails.
Clean my room / do dishes - I kind of tidied a bit, but my room needs a bit more effort, its not as bad as it has been, but I'd like to keep it a bit cleaner for the sake of my sanity and health - especially seeing as how cold its gotten
Buy work shoes. I had to wear crocks with socks (rhymes, and I will be changing into flats) to work because my flats will not keep my feet warm in this weather and I need shoes to wear to work and to keep my feet warm.

So we'll see how this week goes, maybe I can get some of that stuff done before next weekend, if not, then I know what my plans are at least.

Also, I know its rare, but if anyone from Geneva reads this - have you noticed the girl that unicycles out side the foyer on weekends?

I left Gilberto's work station a mess on the weekend and he's mad at me. And I'm crying inside. But not on the outside, because I don't cry there. Stop mean Gilberto, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. STOP! HE KEEPS HITTING ME! ABUSE! ABUSE!
ok I'm done with the melodrama. All I did was take out his head set and move his monitor. geez. OCD.

encircle me

2007-10-19T03:34:00.000-07:00

it works

when the flag changes colour

2007-10-17T12:05:00.000-07:00

I skipped french class and wrote this instead. Pretty crap of me I know. Might as well use up all my absences though so that I don't start skipping when dude is teaching something I don't know - for now, I pretty much fill out the sheets in two minutes and wait and wait and wait until he takes them up. More importantly, to the point...

I saw Feist last night. Amazingly. Not 'the concert was amazing' (which it was - but I'll get into that later), but amazingly as in 'amazing that someone, anyone, was performing in Geneva in the first place'. It is quite difficult to find concerts in Geneva. Actually, that is not completely true. In the summer there are plenty of open air shows and various types of performances. There is also something of a classical music culture, or so I've been lead to believe by quite a few travel websites. However, to see a concert featuring a headlining act that is English speaking, and relatively well known - at least for the likes of me - is incredibly difficult if you are restricting yourself to finding such entertainment in Geneva. Granted, you could travel outside of Switzerland and take off a couple of work days to see shows in France or Germany - where, it seems, every band I could possibly want to see, is performing. Or you could hop a train and spend the night in the Zurich or Lausanne train station, and take a morning off work. But it all hardly seems worth it. The tickets to see Feist were 65 CHF as it was, and I can't imagine paying that plus a plane or train ticket. Furthermore, musicians take the weekends off, which means that if I were to travel outside Geneva, then I have to take a day or half day off - all for a concert...though, this does seem like something I would do, and provided the funds or correct timing, I probably will do it eventually.

Anyhow, I bought the tickets to see Feist quite awhile back. In fact I was so excited that she was coming to Geneva that I immediately charged 4 tickets to my credit card without having even confirmed with anyone - nay, even asked anyone - that they would join me. Luckily, I was able to find a multitude of people eager to attend the concert, and even when travel plans or illness interrupted one persons chance to see Feist, it was quite easy to find a replacement concert goer. And so I had in my grubby little hands, for over a month, tickets to see Feist live. And I and Gilberto Ena and Nadia (the aforementioned person inflicted with illness who had to find a replacement incredibly last minute) began trading songs and slowly building excitement until the day finally arrived.

The concert was held in a small theatre quite close to our Foyer. It didn't have second or third levels, and thus provided just the right amount of intimacy for the concert - though, Gilberto would disagree. Perhaps I felt that it was 'just intimate enough' because we had fantastic seats. We were 6 rows from the front, just at the beginning of the incline of seats, so that our eyes were pretty much perfectly parallel with the stage and no one's head was blocking us. We were close, but not so close that we were straining our necks to look up. The show began with a performance by Bob Wiseman - and I use the term 'performance' quite intentionally. Previous to the concert I had 'stolen' a concert poster that Steph found for me from the window of a shop. On the poster it advertised 'Premiere partie Bob Wiseman' - so, the day of, Gilberto and I checked out his myspace, cbcradio3 profile and website. I pretty much closed each window as soon as I opened it, as everytime one of his non-melodic harsh folk pop songs blasted into my eardrums I cringed and reacted the only way I knew how (apple + w). I questioned Feist's choice for an opener, and warned our fellow concert goers 'I don't know about this guy, I'd be happy missing him'. Well of course, Bob's music and artistry is taken completely out of context on the internet, and when he began his show with a short black and white film played off his mac book onto a screen while he provided the soundtrack on a synthesizer, I knew I was in for something different. The one man show was actually quite entertaining, combining quite a bit of humor with his pop folk and homemade videos. I nearly cried myself laughing during his songs about David Geffen and the girl who was dead inside (I am cringing now that I don't know or remember the correct names of these songs). His music was filled with Canadian references, and it honestly made me feel at home watching him. His set lasted about 40 minutes, and if I hadn't been holding a 65 swiss franc ticket with "feist" printed on it, I would have been quite happy to watch him for another 40.

After his set, and an intermission, Feist appeared on stage under very low lights. She began her set with "When I was A Young Girl" - which initially surprised me, as I anticipated her beginning with something more aggressive. An assumption that has probably been born out of the sudden, well deserved, success that Feist has been receiving (besides aren't all rockstars supposed to just ROCK OUT). She followed that song with two or three more slower ones (I have the set list on my cell phone, and will probably publish that once I charge my battery) before launching into a more up tempo song. She performed, in total 17 songs. And probably one of my favourite moments during the show was when she was alone on stage, just her and her acoustic, and she perfromed three songs sans her back up band. One song was a Sara Harmer cover, another a Kevin Drew cover. The middle song was one that she admitted to never having recorded before, written durring a cold winter in Berlin when, for a year, she broke no new ground, and only wore the color red. "Anti Pioneer" - the kind of song that concerts are made for. While you can undoubtedly find bootlegged, handy cam, cellphone recordings of this song, nothing beats hearing it live. And its so incredibly suiting that she never recorded it. She is up there with her mic, her guitar, and one of those echoing sound recorder devices (the internet is on computers now? - my music knowledge doesn't really expand beyond 'yeah that cd is good' and 'mp3's are the herpes of the internet'). She records her guitar, and sings - with that voice of hers - dark, raspy, folky...what the heck adjectives are there to describe it? never enough. and her lyrics and voice are enough to make you fall inlove with the song. And she plays her guitar - so that there is her recorded guitar playing, and her real time guitar playing. And then she starts recording her voice, layers upon layers of her singing the same line, layers of her just singing. And then she is singing with it. And then it stops. And she concludes the song wonderfully, and you're pretty sure you've just witnessed the coolest thing on earth (not because you haven't seen one of those echo-ey voice recorder play back thingamabobs before - but because she weilded it expertley. because you feel like you just watched them erect the arch d triumph. someone splashed paint all over a sheet of paper, and that someone was pollock. you get what im saying right? doesn't matter, this bracket is too long and my metaphors aren't working). She ended the concert, predictably with 1234 followed by mushaboom. Followed by an encore of sealion woman (her cover of Nina Simone's See Line Woman). And this is where I complain.

The Swiss audience blows. They are lame. And apparently, its a cultural thing (there was a discussion at tea break today about it, and others have witnessed the extreme suckiness of swiss audiences). And I wouldn't be surprised if their lameness is why no one tours to Geneva in the first place. During 1234 there was a space perfectly left open for the audience to sing along, however, that space was filled with dead air. I am, quite frankly, amazed at how well Feist carried her self and her performance despite the lack of enthusiasm from the audience. After her trumpeteer .. trumpeters...whatever, after his (dude who plays trumpet) solo, she went on with singing, stopped her self and apologized for interrupting the audience's applause for his solo - you know, the applause which wouldn't have existed if Feist hadn't reminded the audience to be polite. Mind you I wasn't applauding, I was writing down the song name into my cell phone...Anyways, while I could tell people were enjoying the show - smiles, bopping their heads - no one was really doing much to provide much energy or feedback back to the performers. Going to concerts for me, and having a good time at them, revolves around a) the performers on stage energy and presence, and b) the energy and atmosphere created by the crowd. Its why Caro and I get pissed when people STAND infront of us at shows - don't STAND there, move, dance, jump, clap, do SOMETHING. Its a give and take relationship, and I can't imagine how frustrating it would be to be up there giving it your all, sharing your music with people, to get nothing back. Its one thing when you would go to a show by The Organ and you expect them to stare at the wall and not talk to you and just sing their songs while everyone else kinda slowly sways to the songs - I mean, its the Organ, read a review for crying out loud! But its another thing when you to a show like this one and the audience is near comatose. The only time they got on their feet, they clapped like they enjoyed it, they danced, was during the FLIPPING ENCORE. Christ, Geneva, where was your enthusiasm for 1234, Past in Present, I Feel it All, Mushaboom? HOW MUCH PREP TIME DO YOU NEED? Granted, Sealion woman was phenomenal, and if the energy from the performers was just freaking booming off the stage, but half the other songs performed certainly deserved more than just loud 'whoos' at the end. Seriously, before Geneva, I had never been to a concert where the artist didn't say they were excited to be in 'such and such' city, or that 'such and such city' was their favourite place to tour, or that they loved 'such and such city's' crowd. Since being here, I've never heard it (I KNOW IVE ONLY BEEN TO ONE CONCERT, BUT THATS ALL RELATIVE) and I think I know why! Seriously, Geneva, if you're listening, then take my advice - give performers a reason to WANT to come perform. I know you're used to being all stiff at classical concerts, but learn to show your appreciate for music - especially when the musician is right in front of you. I mean, all you really have is the jet d'eau, and chocolate, and thats really not too much to entice people to come play music for you. They have to want to see your reaction. All through the concert - by the by - not just at the end. Not just during the encore. The whole way through!

Sigh.
The concert, to say the least was great. I very much enjoyed it, and it reminded me of home (minus the crap audience and the fact that I was able to buy really good tickets a month after being on sale)

videotape

2007-10-14T05:00:00.000-07:00

i'm walking to work on a sunday
and there is a slight breeze
and its cold but not so cold that i need more than my sweater
and the air is strikingly clean and each time i inhale it just smells clean and of fall and of leaves and of autumn
and the leaves are scattered on the front lawn of the building, and the lawn is orange and brown and green and the trees are orange and brown and green
and its sunny but not so sunny that i need sunglasses, its like someone applied a yellow filter to everything and its not bright but just sunny and light
and the horses in the field next to the building are eating grass and being lazy
and all of us are just moving slowly
and a monarch is fluttering by my feet
and videotape is playing on my ipod
and thom yorke is singing 'no matter what happens next, you shouldn't be afraid, because i know today has been the most perfect day i've ever seen'
and sometimes there are just moments

umbrella

2007-10-13T10:47:00.000-07:00

courtesy of kasia

My Music At Work

2007-10-11T05:51:00.000-07:00

I tried to avoid the music blog...but who am I kidding?

I downloaded In Rainbows yesterday off a torrent.
This seemed rather crude, however, as Radiohead has released the album digitally, allowing listeners to decide what they will pay before downloading. The least one could pay is one pence - the most - well - its up to you.
I downloaded it because, after some wreckless spending, I decided it was best to 'hide' my credit card - in other words, stash it in Steph's room and force her to decide whether my purchases are worthy before placing that oh-so-shiny piece of plastic in my grubby little hands.
So as it is, I did not pay for 'In Rainbows'. I feel terribly guilty, but I have every intention to pay. I have every intention to purchase the discbox set. Once I can afford it.

Now I've listened to the album, in its entirety, only once. Otherwise I have had it on shuffle, or selected songs to play. First reactions were:

Second half of the album is stronger than the first
'videotape' may reduce me to tears provided right context and sound system
I really enjoy the guitar on 'house of cards'
'nude' makes me want to kidnap thom yorke
the album as a whole seems very cohesive, the songs work together whereas 'hail to the theif' - while you can undoubtedly listen to it all together, the songs were very much independent of each other. and thats not to say that the songs off in rainbows aren't, but rather that, they seem to talk to each other, they interact well.

Hopefully once I have given 'In Rainbows' a couple of more listens, I can actually develop a half decent thought to share.

Although Laura commented earlier that she loved the song I had in my profile, the week is up and a new song is up for your listening pleasure. I figured that since I've mentioned Tegan and Sara about thirty times the past three months, it was high time to stream another song off the con. It was a hard pick too. Do I go with the single or not? I decided to go with the con - title track and single. Although, I'm pretty sure I streamed this weeks ago, I figured I'd give it another go - especially seeing as how its been #1 on the independent Canadian music charts for a while, and #1 on the R3-30 for two weeks. And I'll try to keep my musings on this short, but I do feel that this is one of the best Canadian - nay - one of the best pop albums to be released in a really long time. Its the kind of album where lyrical, personal, and musical growth are evident, where production is spot on, and where the artist doesn't loose themselves in the process. I found a bootleg of one of their demo tapes and its amazing to see how they have evolved as artists, its also refreshing to hear that they haven't completely forgotten their roots after fame came round knocking with 'so jealous'. you know, its all kind of the opposite of gwen stefani. you hear that gwen? build a foundation and grow on it. don't just move when the market's hot. don't just buy cheaply made houses and decorate them by buying a discounted feng shui book if you don't actually appreciate or understand the culture behind it..

Not the Sun

2007-10-10T01:25:00.001-07:00

Some musings...

Went to Lucerne on Saturday. We wandered the city and wandered into (another) church (more on that, and the trip, at a later date). While in the church, we quickly looked around, and I noticed a table of candles, and I went to go light two - as I had been doing when traveling to different churches. Lighting one for Nonnie and one for Basil. I started doing this after Basil passed away because it just seemed the right thing to do. As someone with little to no investment in the Catholic church or religion or faith, I was never quite sure why I did it, what it did for me, what I was supposed to do or say or think while I did. But I did it, because it felt right. And as I lit the candles in Lucerne I think I finally figured out what doing so meant to me. For the first time since I started lighting candles (and this is, of course, relative to the fact that I've only done it four times) I figured out what to 'say'. Previous to beginning this practice when my mom would take me to my grandmother's grave and leave me there to 'do my thing' I would stare at the grass and question and fight with myself attempting to stir something up so that I could actually do or feel something rather than just stare at grass and bugs. I felt incredible detachment at the grave stone which was always followed by small amounts of nagging guilt. especially at times when other members of the family were there they always seemed to be able to do more than just look down and there i was counting potato bugs. I would just stare and think "what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? Feign a prayer? I gave up on prayer when I was ten.. Have an imaginary conversation with this patch of land? This is too morbid, I want to go home. What am I doing, what am I doing...I like Jessica's shoes..." But now, I think, that despite all the religious connotations wrapped up in it, I finally figured it out. And I lit those candles and I sat and I did my thing. And I realized that this process is different for everyone, and that my difference makes me no different. Some may say the silent prayer - and more power to them - and some may have that imaginary conversation - and more power to them - and I do my thing, and I found the thing that give more power to me.

My mom has asked me whether working for a faith based organization has at all changed my beliefs; made me more spiritual, encouraged me to grow in my faith. And while the above anecdote would imply that perhaps I have, I'd have to say that I have not. But, what working for an FBO has done, has opened me up to more understanding of others beliefs. I have had the opportunity to enter into conversation with quite a few people about their faith or sense of spirituality, and rather than outright question and criticize and pass it off - as I would have done before - I have had the opportunity to learn about the personal power and freedom that they find in their religion, or the way their beliefs shape the person they are, or how it affects and guides them in the work they do. For example. while discussing the HIV and AIDS epidemic, while Emma was recalling some of the statistics followed by stories of people she had met and worked with living with HIV and AIDS, she ended the - rather depressing - conversation by stating that she wouldn't know how to deal with it, how to do the work she is doing, if it wasn't for her concept of God, her belief that something much bigger must be out there, and that this wasn't all blantant chaos. And I found that quite powerful. I found that incredibly important, to be able to turn to your faith in such a way so that you are able to help others and so that you have somewhere to turn to help you make sense of it all. And more power to her. And in conversation with Harold, as he described the feeling of community that receives from his church, I mentioned that that feeling of community and togetherness never existed for me when attending catholic mass - and whether it was because our congregation was too large or because we didn't attend frequently - for whatever reason, it never existed for me - but I could see and understand why he enjoys his church so much as it is more than just a place to worship - but it also seemed to be a place for discussion and sharing and togetherness in faith. And I understood why he would feel it powerful. And as we furthered our discussion about faith and religion, and I told him that I had turned away from my faith and religion a long time ago and that I felt many catholics in my generation did for many different personal and political reasons - he questioned where did we turn afterwards. And while I'm sure that others may have returned to the flock, and others maybe have personal spirituality, I admitted I didn't turn anywhere. I probably won't ever turn anywhere. And it mimicked a conversation I had with my mom. Where she asked me, after I retold the conversation I had with Emma - 'what is there for you? how do you deal with it all?'. And I shrugged. I don't know, because there isn't anything for me. I have taught myself so hard out of having faith, that although I find it powerful and important for others who do have it, I personally, just don't believe in anything. I don't have a sense of spirituality, not in the way others seem to. I don't have a personal God. I don't have a sense of faith. And I think - well thats ok too. And I'm comfortable and happy with that. And it doesn't mean that I'm a blank slate waiting for someone to find me and thrust an idea of God on me that I'm going to suddenly, happily accept. And it doesn't mean that I'm opposed to the idea of a god. And it doesn't mean that I can't understand other's belief in a god. And it doesn't mean that I'm an athiest. It just is what it is. And in my interview for this internship, when I was asked how I would deal with people from various faiths and positions, I said that I would be ready and willing to celebrate differences, that I had my own values and morals that I was not willing to compromise, that I didn't think I could compromise, but that I was interested in communicating with people, learning about their positions, about their faith, finding similarities and understanding how meaning was created for them, that I wasn't going to tolerate them (because I feel 'tolerate' and 'tolerance' is a bad, disrespectful word), but, rather, celebrate the differences. And as I rambled I wondered if this was something I could accomplish - because in theory I would have loved to be able to, but I had never been in a situation where I had done so. And I'm glad because I've making strides to. And I'm glad because I have.

so strange and likeable

2007-10-02T09:40:00.000-07:00

dudes, i love this song on my blog
benefit of having a macbook, you can download all the stuff you want without worrying about viruses.
for example i've downloaded entire discography's, television shows, movies, and programs - and my macbook works like new. hell i have about 60 gigs worth of crap on here, and its still amazing. best money ever spent.

(this song is from the new kitsuné compilation - check it biatches)

anyways

the weeks are going by fast and i find it hard to keep up with this thing
its strange because i feel this nagging obligation to keep it up, and i think its because i know my mom reads it
my old blog i just wrote whenever i could - and oddly enough, i probably wrote more.
and i think it was because i wrote just like how i am now, random, short, concise (sometimes not) sentences. none of this 'and then this happened and then that happened'
but - travel blog - so i can't keep it up forever.

speaking of 'did this did that' the weekend was terrific. i think its because its the first time four weeks i didn't have to go anywhere, i didn't travel, i slept in, i cleaned, i organized, i relaxed. also we had some good nights out.
particuarly was jo's going away dinner, followed by gelato, followed by hooka bar (cherry flavoured sheesha by the way - not that great, seriously - i much prefer the orange Abed brought us on St. Patty's - if you're reading this and you suddenly remember St. Patty's day, then please erase from your memory the first hour at Absinthe, thank you).

it was sort of a bittersweet night anyways. it was nice because we had fun and there was good crowd and there was good conversation (you know like, if you were to be reincarnated as a dinosaur, what dinosaur would you be - and because i brought this up, we are now scheduled for a showing of 'the land before time' on Thursday) but it blew because we had to say good bye to one more person - and seriously, who the heck is going to replace my australian-american-jew friend? SRSLY? anyways we made a nice little going away present for Jo and sent her on her way , and today is what Tuesday? hopefully she's got to australia by now.

23 hour flight, like woah.

in other news, a new trip to plan - to the netherlands for the beginning of november
in other news, we finally finished the digital advent calendar (holy crap!)
in other news, i'm still addicted to 'the con' and i'm pretty sure if tegan and sara come anywhere near europe i'm shelling out the dough to see them
in other news, there is a new episode of weeds on tonight (aka, i downloaded it and will be watching it with gil and steph)
in other news, keeping busy at work, busy work. you know? photo galleries and stuff.
in other news, started french classes and am def. switching from level 2 to level 1, like i know what all the fingers are named and as if i can converse with that dude (prof) in french. bwah! no way man, i needs me some level one french - maybe i'll work my way up.

anticipate: photos and video.

hop a plane

2007-09-24T04:10:00.000-07:00

so i realize i haven't updated in a while

and where to start.

i suppose its appropriate to say that the past three weeks have been full of traveling. first to milan/venice with jo and steph. second to canada to attend my cousin's wedding. and last night i returned home from a weekend in paris (with jo steph and camilla)

milan and venice:

was full of nice people. when lost, an ederly couple came up to us, asked which of five languages we spoke, then directed us exactly where we wanted to go - which was to see the last supper. upon arrival, we discovered that we could not see the last supper without making reservations first, and that we might have some luck getting tickets by waiting for tour groups to go through and asking if they had any spare tickets. so we made a sign and waited:

a couple from boston passed us and mentioned that they needed tickets too, and they went inside to try and buy some, hoping that they would have more luck than us. and, remarkably, they did. they also quickly asked for three extra tickets and came outside to fetch us so we could see it as well. it was very exciting.

After the last summer we went to duomo, went up to the roof, took pictures, ate gelato, acted as tourists in a large touristy place. noticed that milan was a mecca for skinny jeans and converse. we then wandered around for quite awhile trying to find a 'quaint authentic italian' restaurant to eat in, but most were closed or not serving meals because of the time, so we settled and had a pretty damn decent dish of pasta nonetheless.

We hopped on the train, and arrived at Venice. Upon seeing the grand canal all lit up, we quickly questioned why the heck we went to milan in the first place. we wandered venice, declaring it our favourite place in the world, then had a pasta dinner on the canal and fell into serious depression when there was no more dinner on our plates - so we ate some desert to lift our spirits. we stayed in a hotel just outside venice - and to avoid trying to remember really sketchy instructions on how to get there, we took a cab.

spent the next day wandering venice, in a gondola, talking about our external hard drives, and surrounded by tourists (venice receives 1 million tourists per day, so its nuts there). pretty much decided to never leave, to quit work, to live there forever.

took 7 hour train back.

Canada:

9.5 hours of flying on Thursday resulted in a very grumpy Dana for the entire four days i was there. wait, three days I was there. A really short trip, but worth it. Saw Katie get married, and even got to do a reading in the church. I'll admit that I was kind of nervous about the whole wedding thing, four years in cultural studies and your conditioned to be weary of it all. That whole thing is difficult to explain, but, I'll just say that Katie was a kick ass bride. Yeah, yeeee heard me, kick ass. like someone would come up to you and be like 'jigga, how was the wedding' and then you'd be like 'dude, it was tight, and that bride was fierce' but like - you'd say it and you'd sound cool. not like now, when im writing in on a blog and sounding like a tool. erm...i'm not making my point. i'll avoid commenting on all the aesthetics (thats what photos are for) but like, katie was calm, and cool, and excited (and excited[!!]) and happy...and you know, the most important thing, i think, like ever, in our lives, the most important thing is to be passionate about life. and there was excitement, and passion, and happiness in the air - and you know, you just can't go wrong when life is that beautiful.

Paris:

Well the entire reason I can write such a long blog entry today is because im home from work because my trip to Paris resulted in some sort of strained ankle or something. essentially we walked a lot, i got blisters, we kept walking, so i tried to walk to avoide rubbing the blisters even more, we walked even more, and my ankle got all messed. Its not as bad as it was yesterday (walking through the champs illyse or whatever I thought I was actually going to die or cut my foot off and have a bloody stump in its place) but its sore and stiff and I figured I wasn't going to torture myself anymore and so I took the day off so I lie and do nothing and be bored out of my skull and write a ridiculously long blog to cover the past three weeks.

Anyways in Paris we went to the cafe where Amelie was shot, walked through the gardens at the louvre, saw the eifel tower at night (when they do a crazy seizure inducing light show on it), saw the arc d triumph at night, ate freaking ridiculously good pastries, lazed in the gardens below the eifle tower during the day, walked through the fashion district, had breakfast at a cute little cafe, discussed layering divs and CSS, saw notre dam and went inside, snuck into the metro, etc etc. we were tourists, out right.

While doing all these incredibly touristy things, we got to thinking about how technology and tourism and consumption and globalization was affecting the sacredness of certain places. jo mentioned that in different cultures there are different schools of thought - where some believe in experiencing moments and others believing in owning moments. certainly, while walking through these large churches in italy and france, with every light from a persons flash or every ding from the cash register, we realize more and more how much emphasis we keep putting into owning the experience. now look at me here, i've retold my entire experience, i've put up photos, i obviously take part in this. but its still a bit disconcerting. to see someone giving confession while people walk by and gawk. to light a candle and have someone take a photo of you while you do it. suddenly these places don't seem so sacred anymore - they - and the practices within them - have become commodities, little coins or prayer cards that you can buy and take home to show your friends. i guess it just makes me wonder what has been lost in it all. what was it like before it was all spectacle and postcards...or maybe thats just the way it has always been, maybe that was the purpose of making these larger than life churches in the first place. technology has just given it a bit more sparkle - you know, the kind of sparkle you'd find on a jean jacket that an 8 year old took their be-dazzler to.

Hilltop Hoods

2007-09-04T04:29:00.000-07:00

Because I don't think I'll ever have the vocabulary or writing skills to adequately express the day spent in Chamonix, I'll just old school blog it:

Went to Chamonix (France) on Saturday with Harold, Steph, Jo and Gilberto
Rented a car, day tripped it, went grocery shopping, had a pic nic
ontop of the highest mountain range in Europe
Chamonix = Mont Blanc
Mont Blanc = crazy high up, altitude sickness, above clouds, amazing views, snow, two cable cars, treckers, hikers, view view view.
amazing view
surreal

photoblog it

In the morning, just before leaving

We saw some great mountains on the way and stopped to take photos - we attempted to get the mountains in the group shot...apparently four multimedia students (plus j0) couldn't figure it out. But the mountains are huge...

View while atop Mount Aiguile

view while atop Mount Aigule

This is what happens to a bottle when you bring it over 3000 m up (pressure!)

There were quite a few people trecking around the mountains, it was pretty impressive. We all commented on how cool it would be, until we had to climb a hill to get to the second mountain and decided that we would never survive as hikers or rock climbers.

Harold and the view - see he's excited cos its so freaking awesome. We all pretty much walked around like that.

From the second mountain, south side. We're not as high up, but we are in clouds (its not foggy - thats clouds my friends)

Mont Blanc - (above clouds - its nuts)

Cool rock formation

So after this past excursion, we are thinking that our next road trip will be to Nice. Until then, here are some shopping-list updates:
* Sunday had a good bye for Mike, went to Jet D'eau with work type people and had falafel and all around good time
* Last night went to quiz night with some peeps from work, realized durring round five that there was no saving us - saw this actor at the bar, no word of a lie (we had a laptop with us and looked him up while we were there....oh we're IT people for crying out loud, OF COURSE we bring laptops to the bar)
* Steph Gilberto and I signed up for French classes today. Will last from October to June.
* Steph Jo and I officially addicted to Weeds and watched all of second season and got caught up on third season within a week. Callie, from Act, is also a fan, and I burned her all my episodes, and she watched five in a row the other night. This Weeds fanaticism has brought a Lost vs Weeds division between the two offices.
* Going to Milan and Venice on the weekend (not to Paris on Thursday, as planned due to $$ constraints) also in the process of booking hostels and flights for Munich at the end of September (for the first weekend of Oktoberfest)
* Bought an external hardrive (500 GB) for approx. 130 Canadian (!!)

where does the good go

2007-08-28T00:44:00.000-07:00

finally, a new blog entry.

I spent most of last week taking late nights at work and working from home and working on the weekend to finish the web stat report. It was a much longer process than I had expected, but usually when things are relatively easy - just merely tedious and require a lot of work - they take up quite a bit of time. Needless to say I got it done, and presented the highlights during the HIV and AIDS strategy group meeting today. I'm not really sure how much people cared to hear about the web statistics - I mean that kind of stuff really has to only interest people like me. Like ooh, we would so obviously benefit from RSS feeds for the campaign pages and we should really be properly marking up our html image tags so that we're indexed more by google, and gasp, people aren't navigating the site as much as they should be so lets conduct some user testing in order to enhance the navigation. Not terrific insights I know, but ... uh...yeah. My brain is officially dead from web stats.

Anyways, tonight was a nice end to that shoot-myself-in-the-foot fest.

The EAA organized an outing tonight for its HIV strategy group members and the staff. We went first to a museum that was holding an exhibit on Martin Luther's works. The museum was across the lake, overlooking with this fantastic view. It was very modern and posh, and we had wine and snack type things outdoors while waiting for a worship to begin. Once it did, we went into the museum (hey - its a Lutheran service and it was in French and my mom said not to join a cult, and since Catholicism is a pretty big cult I'm not really sure where her standards are, so I'm assuming I'm best off just not converting to any religion for the sake of her sanity). Anyways, this museum (who's name right now completely escapes me - starts with a B) has original manuscripts and first editions of books and various other artifacts. Breathtaking. The kind of things you only learn about in school but never actually see. And to see it, after feeling so detached, and never really giving it the appreciation it deserves, suddenly you're face to face and it actually exists.

I'm talking of course about an original Gutenburg bible, first editions of shakespeare and marlo, original manuscripts by Sir Isaac Newton, a page out of Albert Einstein's theory of relativity, an original book of the dead, first edition Franz Kafka and Tolstoi and Dostoevsky, a first edition communist manifesto, first edition on the road by jack kerouac, a gift list by queen elizabeth, Dante (inferno), Voltaire, Freud, samuel becket, Goethe, Marco Polo, Marie Curie, Charles Dickinson, Edgar Allen Poe, The Gospel According to Judas, Neitzsche - the list goes on and on, and I can't even recall them all because I didn't recognize them (though there was this book, with this picture in it, of a rhinoceros hand drawn like he's in armor, that we were shown a slide of in the history of graphic design - there was that book, open to that page, as well). Even as we went to dinner, even as we sat and ordered, we still all talked about the books that we saw, the history in that tiny little museum, the hidden little treasures scattered around Geneva.

Speaking of dinner, we later went to a yatch club (which, apparently was supposed to be members only) to eat and drink. I just got home, just out of the shower, and I'm pretty impressed by how well it at all went. As we were sitting there looking out at the lake at dinner, waiting to be served, seeing the jet d'eau infront of us, boats becoming silhouettes as the sun set - I muttered a bit to myself (and a bit to gilberto) - we're freaking lucky, how the heck did we get here?

Disco Dynamite

2007-08-21T15:17:00.000-07:00

b-br-br-break it down now

Took Friday off work as one of my vacation days (leaving me with 17 - not including the days i've taken off for the wedding and christmas).
Purpose: to go see a concert in the mountains
Open Air Gampel - a four day festival in the alps (we think). Alicia, who was down for the week, joined Steph and I on this adventure which could only be properly described via photo blog (no video mon frere's - new camera doesn't have video featured, but it is oh so nice and slr like)

The view from the train ride to Gampel

Some how we missed our stop and wound up in the train cleaning area, or like the train depot or train parking lot or something and we were the only ones left on the train. That was until a janitor dude started cleaning up the train and Alicia, who speaks French, asked him about Gampel. After what appeared to be an informative conversation, Alicia told us flat out that she couldn't understand a word the dude was saying because he spoke some strange swiss german dialect. Fearing that we would be stuck on the train forever, we had some luck when another janitor dude arrived and told us that the train we were currently on would soon be heading back and that Gampel would be three stops away.

There were a lot of scene kids on the train, all going to Gampel. Seeing them made me envious / fee old. We dressed Steph up as a scene kid by giving her my hat and Alicia's scarf. Big glasses were hers originally. So bag lady.

So the concert / festival was in the mountains - this is partial view from the main stage.

Why yes, that is a watering can. And yes, it is full of 1.5 litres of Sangria. And yes the two kids you see infront of you did drink most of it while I went to the bathroom because the first out of approximately 22 guys started to hit on them and they felt that the awkward situation could only be made better by incredibly fast alcohol intake.

Seeing as how we paid nearly 100 francs to see two bands, we decided to check out this band (who opened the day up ) My Name is George. They were quite good and we were not dissapointed. Could have been the sangria though.

Some paparazi photo journalist dude caught me off guard and took my photo so I tapped him and got him to snap a shot of the three of us with my camera. After this Alicia threw a hat on stage. It was not as recieved as the thong thrown previously (not by us) nor by the boxer shorts thrown on stage when the sounds were performing. But, interesting nonetheless.

The Sounds performance - which was well done, enjoyable, they played a lot of my favourite songs so I was happy. My only regret was a) naked guy and b) that I kept taking photos.

Oh yeah, naked guy - everyone, meet naked guy. This dude - who was beside me/us during the sounds - couldn't keep his pants on, couldn't decide if he was going to throw his boxers on stage, seemed to enjoy dancing in the nude, poking us with glow sticks and attempting to flash the band. Alicia intervened when he was getting too creepy, but he took that as an open invite to hit on her. At least he was clothed at this point.

Naked guy encouraged more Sangria (1.5 + 1.5 = 3 litres for 3 people)

Wasting time at the Nokia photo booth because they gave us bubbles and lounge seats and all we had to do was pretend to be thinking of an idea for a cool group shot.

14 year olds masquerading as 17 year olds. That demographic seems to have a tendency to hit on Alicia.

Gampel at night, waiting for Jimmy Eat World.

The crowd durring Jimmy Eat World. The same crowd that started mosh pitting and hard core dancing and squashing Steph to the point of near suffocation / trampling that we got security to pull her out cos it looked like her head was put in one of those vice things - you know where they like squish you until your brains pop out or whatever. But seriously, who the hell gets that rowdy for jimmy freaking eat world? Crazy Germans.

the Jimmy Eat World fiasco encouraged sangria purchase number 3 (1.5x3 = 4.5 litres of sangria). While drinking this batch approximately 6 guys, all with those meter beers in long plastic yellow glasses with crazy long straws like ours - and all in sombreros, came up to us and atttempted to drink out of our sangria bucket. this guy didn't have a crazy long straw like us or the others so he failed misserably. Here is Steph in utter disbelief that so many people can attempt to steal alcohol.

After the concert we decided not to take the bus but to walk to the train station to make it to the train that was leaving in half an hour. when it got down to the wire, we attempted to start hitch hiking as we were a long ways away still. A smart car stopped for us. Seriously. Since we couldn't - obviously - hitch a ride with them, we started to ask for directions when the first and only taxi I've seen since I've been out here drove by. We hailed it down and got a free ride to the train station. No sleeping on benches for us! (plenty of sleeping on the 2.5 hour train ride though)
----

In other news, working hard. Keeping late hours. Trying to keep afloat.
Once next week is over, I'll let you know how its all going.
Like, actually.

I'll be seeing you

2007-08-15T01:32:00.000-07:00

Today is Basil's viewing
and I believe
that tomorrow is his burial.

This all feels so surreal. And it's all very quick and sudden.
I wish I could be at home right now, to pay my last respects, to offer a shoulder, to give my condolences.
The past two days has been facebook messages and phone calls and msn and reminiscing and discussion over how ridiculous this all is.

memories keep flooding back.
regret keeps seeping in.
and i'm still shocked. still stunned.
and i'm feeling pretty useless over here.
and i haven't cried yet, but i've been on the verge for two days.
it just doesn't feel real.

and i'm lighting a candle, and i'm keeping everyone in my thoughts, and i know you'll all make it through.

and for good measure, just one last time:
"Rrrrrrr"

see you later, Basil.

Gold Lion

2007-08-13T15:32:00.000-07:00

I just found out that Basil, a friend from high school, passed away.

I am stunned.

I can remember how much fun he was in high school, always playing along with that silly long standing joke that we were married but in the midst of a messy of divorce.
I can regret not staying in contact after University started.

Thats all selfish though.
And his death .. his life, deserves more than that.

My condolences.
Rest in peace, Basil.

...this stuff called life, it's just fucked.

Fire Eye'd Boy

2007-08-12T06:27:00.000-07:00

$photos = array("photo1.jpg", "photo2jpg", "photo3.jpg", "etcetc.jpg");
$videos = array("shoreline.avi", "fireworks.avi");

function photoVideoBlog () {
if dana == awesome {
print_r ($photos);
print_r($videos);
} else {
dana = dana + 5 cool points;
}
}

photoVideoBlog();

(i don't even care if my fake php syntax is correct)

Photos from last weekend to this weekend:

church in old town

american in french grocery store...not buying freedom fries, i assume.

jet d'eau and view from ferris wheel

jet d'eau at end of fireworks display

(so to end the fette du geneve, they have this insane fireworks show - see second video below)

Video:

Shoreline (while Steph and I were being tourists, we walked out to the Jet D'eau and I took a short video)
Song: Passport Radio - Broken Social Scene

Fireworks (long video)
Song: After Dark (remix) - Le Tigre

In other news, the internet at the foyer still blows, so I appologize again for lack of communication to everyone who hasn't been getting prompt replies and the like. Its a Sunday afternoon and I'm at work because a) I have a ton of work to catch up on and b) because there is no way I could ever write a blog, upload videos and photos, etc while at the foyer.

Still taking donations for a new camera.

Everything is Everything

2007-08-09T00:51:00.000-07:00

ok so its been awhile

almost a week - but, (excuses, excuses) the foyer had been out of internet (hence lack of communication people - and yes mom, I do remember you)
right now im writing this at work
because - as usual - typo3 makes me want to kill
that program is excellent army training

so lets break this down, grocery styles - starting from the weekend.

Saturday:

We were supposed to go to Annecy, but we woke up late, or got ready late, or something...anyways we missed the trains and decided against it because it would take too long to get there and we would have like, less than half a day to explore and it just didn't seem worth it. So we shopped (market, manor) and later that afternoon we ('the three stooges' as gilberto adequately named us last night - -steph, me, gilberto) went to the park (by the lake) read, tanned, whatever you do when at the park and its hot out. gilberto went back to the foyer early, and steph and i strolled around, checked out hot air balloons and the like.

Sunday:

Steph and I decided to go to Oldtown, except I couldn't remember how to get there, so we took the tram to somewhere that wasn't geneva. At one point we decided that it was do or die, either we keep going and consider it an adventure - maybe wind up in the mountains - or we get off and turn around. We decided to keep going. Then the tram stopped and terminated its run in the middle of nowhere. Then we walked off and got on the tram going back to Geneva, and somehow walked right into old town. We decided to be tourist and took a lot photos. Wound up at the carnival, went on the ferris wheel, took more photos. Bought candy, walked up to the jet d'eau, took more photos. Went back to the park, read, and tanned and the like. Came back to the foyer where they had a screening of the Simpsons because someone had downloaded it and got access to the projector.

Monday was work.

Tuesday I wanted to kill my computer or the internet or the developers of typo3. I spent close to 7 hours trying to get an extension to work, only to have it work partially on one browser but not at all on another. Fix one problem and encounter an even bigger one. Fix that problem and find a different one on another browser. It was back and forth between computers and by the end of it all I skipped lunch, tore out my hair and swore off Internet Explorer for the rest of my life, and me and RealURL aren't speaking. Not until it buys me chocolates, anyhow. I ended the day by watching Requiem for a Dream, which seemed suiting as I was thisclose to becoming a full fledged drug addict and giving up my fancy shmancy career as a web designer programmer project manager thingamabob.

Yesterday we (three of us) went to Cafe du Lys after realizing we missed the free concert we had intended to go to. But, in general, yesterday was a big relief compared to Tuesday. I got the language problem on the website sorted (which, compared to realURL was a bigger problem but was more simple to sort out). I bought tickets to see Feist in Geneva (in October!). Steph found a bunch of European tour dates to see Stars. Gilberto made us peanut butter sandwiches. I bought the hat I had wanted from HnM. Gilberto called me emo, I said I wasn't, then he said I was a scene kid and obviously my day was made.

Today its cold, rainy, and I still have a large list of things to do to get the tradeweek website off the ground. But its getting closer to being finished, and however unfortunate it may be, I may just say screw you to realurl and use a bunch of forwarders - which blows, but may be necessary to quickly put the alert out regarding the website.

I have a lot of work on plate - from freelance to tradeweek to just regular type work I should be doing here. I've made two large to do lists which just seem to sit and mock me. I guess if today is rainy, then, after we go to Ikea for dinner tonight (yeah you read that right - welcome to the life of an intern - one dollar hot dogs is where its at) I'll start taking care of all the freelance that just sits in my inbox and mocks me. Stupid internet work always mocking me....but...despite all my complaints about programs and extensions and freaking cross browser bs...I really enjoy this work. I really love doing this all. I've found my niche. And I know that I don't want to spend my life programming and designing and writing css and working in photoshop, but this industry in general seems to be my fit. I know I don't excell at any of the specifics (designing, programming, whatever), that I have a lot to learn, but...I guess I'm passionate about it, and eager to learn, and thats good, right? I enjoy it, a lot..

Pictures and stuff coming soon.
(I don't have a camera any more, mine broke - donate to my 'dana needs a camera to upload photos to her blog' fund)

neon knights

2007-08-03T16:08:00.000-07:00

wednesday i had off - not because i was fired like my mom assumed in the email she wrote me, but because it was fette du geneve
consider it the equivalent of canada day, except for geneva, and except for it last ten days, and except for the crazy carnival rides that put our lousy shopping mall parking lot carnival rides to shame.

a video because i'm too tired to explain much more, other than, the lake front is covered in carnival like stuffs and people and techno music (as per usual).

I Want to Hear You Sad

2007-08-02T12:43:00.000-07:00

I have been nicknamed "emo" by Gilberto and Natalie.
This is how I found out

**Natlie and Gilberto discussing plans to go to France this weekend**

Natalie: Well you better work it out, because emo **points to me** and Steph thought you were going to Montreaux

Me: Did you just call me emo?

Gilberto: I said I was going towards Montreaux, in that general direction

Natalie: Don't lie, Montreaux isn't even in that direction

Me: Did you call me emo?

Gilberto: It doesn't matter, Steph will come to (name of french city), and then so will emo.

Me: When did you give me this nick name? Are you talking about me?

**laughing**

Natalie: I pointed at you.

Later, when I left my desk to have a meeting with one of our campaign leaders, I came back to see that Natalie had defaced a photo of Frankie and I, placing on top of my head a cut out piece of black paper in the shape of swoop side part bangs. I never looked so good.

It's brilliant, really. I'm not taking it down.

After lunch we watched emo youtube videos.

Anyways, I don't know why Gilberto has decided that I'm emo. I mean, does emo (as an actual music genre) even exist anymore? (if you say my chemical romance I will kick you in the pants) I keep trying to explain that scenesters are the new deal, hippsters, you know. But its like in one ear out the other with them.

But now I'm downloading all that music from first year that reminds me of Shylah and her yellow "taking back sunday" shirt...or was it brand new? and carolines thick framed glasses and wrist bands and the first time shylah try to do side bangs and looked like a boy because only boys were doing side bangs then and when we created dashysm while writing really bad essays late at night and the exploited poster shylah had in her room and going to the dashboard concert in mississauga and seeing say anything for the first time and buying pins off the internet. ... ..

I should stop while I'm ahead.

-----

yesterday was the beginning of fette du geneve - anticipate a picture/photo blog in about 9 days (the celebrations go for 10 days - its like a giant carnival that never stops for a week - and the rides could seriously kick the ass of the crappy carnival rides that we get in mall parking lots)

Also, my camera is dead, broken, never to be used again.
Donate money to me.
For now, I'm using Steph's camera. But, I need a new one.
Mine is seriously out of commission.

One-Eight by Summer

2007-08-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

Steph arrived in geneva.
cue photo / video blog

Steph's first night out / second night in Geneva:

Steph and Jo [outside cafe du lys]

Gilberto and Steph at the pre party for fette du geneve (an out door concert followed by confetti and an incredibly short dj set)

Geneva's answer to Rod Stewart [aka, double b's new life goal]

Pretty much, it's cos I'm friends with him.

They go way back.

Video

Ok, so the guy who is performing here is like some washed up 80's pop star or something, I have no clue. But he reminded me of Rod Stewart and Barry Manalow and Hugh Grant in Music and Lyrics. I also think that he might be double b's new icon. I mean seriously, who can wear that outfit and make cat-like dance moves and still have legions of french fans? not many people, thats for damn sure.

Dana Takes Steph to the Squats

See, my mom got mad at me last time I went there, she said I couldn't go back alone.
So I brought Steph.
Hopefully her mom doesn't call my mom.

Skate board graveyard

I really wanted to steal that, but I think if its still there and I somehow come into money/poster board / spray paint / extra time - I'll go back there and make a makeshift poster.

i uploaded all my squat/graffiti photos to flickr - fyi

i was a kaleidoscope

2007-07-29T07:52:00.000-07:00

photo/video [multimedia throw up (aka 'lets make this look like myspace')] blog

Les Enfants Terribles:

Nadia and Sasha (also a mac grad)

Outside Les Enfants (a band plays every Thursday for one month, each month a new band)

Jo getting a massage outside Les Enfants

Gilberto, Rita (a mac student who came to check out the Geneva internship scene) and me (Gilberto made us take this again b/c I wasn't looking at the camera, but I think its suiting that I wasn't)

Nadia and Vanessa (another mac grad) dancing

Sidney (works in ACT office in our corridor - not a mac grad)

Mike (EAA webmaster before me) & Heather

VIDEO

Heather's Good Bye / See You Later Dinner:

Gilberto and Heather at the Circus

Gilberto and the alien dog

pretty much, its cos we're cooler than you.

I think I'm saying "I feel short"

EAA represent!

Jo and Heather at the Circus

At dinner ( we went to a Turkish restaurant near the circus - great food)

Random blog info while I wait for the super slow foyer internet to upload my stuff....

This is the third blog I've kept (seriously kept). I had my last blog for almost four years, and one before that for about 6 months (i can't, for the life of me, remember where I used to have it).
"Bravo Charlie" (the title of my blog) is the title of a song. However, I recently learned, that this may not be the correct title of said song - it may actually be "Like Father, Like Daughter"
All my blog entry titles are either lyrics, song titles, or album titles.
I try to change the blog song once a week.
I switched from my original blog host to blogger because I thought it would make me cool like Corey Kennedy. But apparently, to be scene like her, you have to weigh ten pounds, go to all the cool LA parties, and have like 15000 myspace friends. So lets just say, I chose it because I like the minimalist layout.

give'r

2007-07-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

lets break it down.

Last Week

------------

Mike took me out to this spot near the lake where we shared cheesy focacia bread and a beer. It was refreshing (the beer) and quite nice. We sat right in front of the jet d'eau and had an excellent view of the mountains that lay on my side of the lake (and that I don't get to see a lot). It was quite beautiful when the sun started to set and the sky turned pink creating the most spectacular silhouette of the mountains. A gorgeous night, excellent way to end the work day.

-------------

Gilberto and I attempted to go to the grocery store in France, but instead ended up walking around a very dead Ferney on Sunday and wound up eating lunch, in France, at a pretty expensive cafe. The day was beautiful though, and later that night Gilberto, Mike, Natalie and I went for gelato and a walk around the lake. I had two scoops (one scoop goat cheese, one scoop pineapple basil - dude it was freaking amazing). We wound up at a park, lying on a blanket - chatting and such. Again, quite nice. Natalie and Gilberto proved their strength by climbing these ridiculous jungle gym tire net hula hoop monkey things. Can't explain it - won't try.

--------------

This Week

Went to a pot luck at Nadia's and Aarons - a house warming, if you will (as Nadia moved in a few weeks ago). There was plenty of good food, music, and company. And of course, there was even better music when Gilberto and I launched into Dance Mix 95 pseudo karaoke. That didn't last long....luckily.

--------------

Today was Mike/Natalie/Heather's going away garden party at the EAA. Again, good food, music, and company. Afterwards a group went down to Les Enfants Terribles, which - unlike last time - had the band performing in the street as well as a masseuse set up. Les Enfants, as always, was awesome. Its just so amazing, to see these people performing in this make shift bar/cafe/shop/salon/etc etc etc. It really is a treat for the senses. Its just a treat in general. Video and photos coming soon.

As mentioned the other interns are leaving, and I feel myself on the verge of a mental breakdown. Mike has been a complete help, showing me the ropes while being so incredibly patient, encouraging and humble. I realize more and more that I have such big shoes to fill, and while I *know* I can do it, I still worry about the quality of my performance. Granted, I'm sure I will be able to get help along the way...but in a few days (after Tuesday as it is) I'll be the sole webmaster, and suddenly, quite a few large projects will be in my hands. I look forward to the challenges, I look forward to stepping up and taking it all head on - but I'm also scared. Probably because I know that failure is never an option, and partly because I know I've effectively (mentally) situated myself as a lurker trailing along behind Mike's big ol' programer-extraordinaire shadow. But I'm here for a reason, so shut the hell up and getter done. In the words of Peaches: just give'r.

gatheration

2007-07-21T17:42:00.000-07:00

list of artists i want to kidnap for my island of kidnapped (indie?) rock stars:

1. Emily Haines (Metric / solo / Broken Social Scene)

Double B and I have been conspiring this one for about a year, I think to date we decided that we needed such things as a large butterfly net, two large bottles of JD, fake press on nails, a bear trap, backstage passes, half a jar full of green jelly beans, and or a friend of a friend of Emily's.

Her position on the island: President, India representative on model UN, official basket weaver (I assume she would be good with her hands because of the piano playing)

Possible escape tactic: thrashing around like she does onstage leading us to assume she is having a seizure.

2. Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes / other projects)

A plan conspired with Shylah. We mostly just want him to sit in the corner and sing us songs, but he can also sing us songs on an island.

Position: Fire-watcher, Guitar tuner, American representative on Model UN

Possible Escape tactic: suicide, alcohol poisoning or constant whining to point of annoyance,

3. Leslie Feist (Broken Social Scene / solo)

She can hang out with Emily and they can reminisce about their days in Toronto when the scene wasn't really going anywhere. She'd probably be kidnapped wearing a ridiculous outfit like a sequence jumper (ala 1,2,3,4) and after kidnapping her I think I would steal her gold casio watch.

Position: Vice-president, Canadian representative on model UN, choreographer for nightly entertainment

Possible Escape Tactic: Forming an alliance with Emily survivor styles and having Emily turn on her and tell her at the closing ceremonies that if she was dying of thirst in the desert she wouldn't give her water to drink - of course this would all be pre-planned as an escape tactic.

4. Meredith Godreau (Gregory and the Hawk)

I imagine she would make wine for the other captives. She would cover their songs acoustically and be terribly adorable in doing so. Pretty much everyone else on the island would be jealous that she can actually sing - not saying the others can't - but her voice, in the traditional/folky sense, would have them groveling at her feet.

Position: Wine maker / drinking buddy. French representative on Model UN

Possible Escape Tactic: not sure, though probably something to do with her hair getting frizzy and unmanageable.

5. Thom Yorke (Radiohead / Solo)

Certainly the hardest to capture, but his presence would give us the right to name the island "the island of kidnapped rock stars". He probably wouldn't make too much sense to the others, especially if he talks in constant metaphors like he does in his songs. But the others would be so enraptured with his po-mo artistry that he would fast be the most popular person on the island - which is suiting. Him and emily would probably fall in love while playing piano together.

Position: Treasurer and Guidance Counselor/AA sponsor, UK representative on Model UN

Possible Escape Tactic: I imagine he would pull a houdini,

6. Johnny Whitney (The Blood Brothers / Neon Blonde)

He may annoy the other members of the island, specifically because his vocals often sound like a drowning rat (I love him for it though). He would probably try to start a band with the rest of them, I imagine they might decline and attempt to stay solo - mostly because in his proposal, he declares he would be lead vocals.

Position: T shirt maker and body paint artist, first manager of the island's H&M, [he wouldn't be on the UN because he's too hardcore for that...or at least, as hardcore as you can get when your post punk band is signed to sony]

Possible Escape Tactic: None, he would love it so much, he would stay and invite all his scene friends and they would open five more H&Ms, a Forever 21, a salon that specializes in choppy scene hair cuts, a used vinyl/cd store, and a Hot Topic...they would also set up a wireless internet point so they could all check their myspace accounts on their sexy macbooks.

7. Kathleen Hannah (Le Tigre / Bikini Kill)

I am not sure how difficult it would be to capture Kathleen Hannah, though I assume that it may be a two-for-the-price-of-one deal, as we might get JD Sampson or Kathleen's Beastie Boy husband while initiating the kidnapping.

Position: Coordinator of the Post Modern Island Riot Grrl Movement, Creator of the Island Art Gallery, Co-Producer of the Annual Feminist Film Showing, Professor of Critical Gender, 20th Century American Politics, Early North American Foreign Policy, Sculpture, Photography and Film Art, and Critical Race Studies at the Island University of which she is also the Dean, South Africa/Bosnia/Spain/New Guinea representative on Model UN

Possible Escape Tactic: Starting a riot after writing a song that exposes the horrible and oppressive conditions of the island.

8. Justin Timberlake (N Sync / Solo [not indie, i know i know, but i'm making huge stretches as it is])

Although not a 'rock' star, per-se, something tells me that JT can fake it pretty well. I think he'd be the jock that the others need to feel inferior too (like in high school, hence all their woe). Also, if Feist is choreographing nightly dances/entertainment, someone needs to perform them. He can also do a duet with Meredith.

Position: Dancer/nightly entertainment, beat box, model in The Island's fireman calendar, Michael Jackson impersonator, student at the Island University [he wouldn't be on the UN because 'all the good countries were taken']

Possible escape tactic: simply waiting for former N Sync fans (now in their mid twenties) to start a search party and find him. This is like an extended vacation for him, except unlike other celebrities, he doesn't need to call it "rehab"

9. Jesse F Keeler (MSTRKRFT / Death From Above 1979)

He might feel uncomfortable as all his projects have involved him and one other person, and here I am putting him on an island with 9 other people. But I think once the DJ booth is set up, he would feel right at home. He would probably drink a lot with JT and they would create nightly dance parties which everyone but Conor would attend.

Position: DJ at The Island Night Club, Kathleen Hannah's secret lover, President and CEO of the "sexy results" club and recreation center

Possible escape tactic: Using his high powered cell phone to call Sebastien, make up, and start a DFA reunion tour with JUSTICE opening... I'd buy him a plane ticket and give him a sincere appology for kidnapping him, but hope that he doesn't hold a grudge against me because by kidnapping him I inadvertently made him best friends with Seb again..I'd hope to get passes to all his shows

10. Tegan (and/or) Sara Quinn (Tegan and Sara)
I probably wouldn't want to interrupt their tour, simply because I would really like to try and see them in Germany, so this one would have to wait until September (because there is nothing like seeing Canadian bands in another country). The problem in this is - do you kidnap one or both? They're identical twins...so does it matter? It may be best to get both, because of that twin telepathy thing, best avoid possible escape tactics early.

Position: Stand Up comediennes during nightly entertainment, Kathleen Hannah's secret lover, talk show hosts / political commentators during model UN meetings...pretty much anything that allows them to talk a lot...

Possible escape tactics: well we took care of the twin telepathy by kidnapping both of them, but they may use some sort of lesbian telepathy voodoo to get batwoman to come and save them.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BONUS: Avril Lavigne (solo)

She's like, a fake rock star.

Position: food

Possible escape tactic: us finding out everyone on the island is vegetarian, and then realizing that there is no possible use for this girl at all, anywhere, ever....we create a raft, and all the other rock stars help to build it and as a team we push her off into the sea...we tell her rafts are very anti-britney...but still very girly and instyle.

avalanche, oh avalanche

2007-07-20T08:39:00.000-07:00

avalanche, oh avalanche
you are the number one natural disaster in switzerland
the swiss put up barriers to keep you out,
and built covered roadways to save themselves
but its no use, you always kill at least a few skiers a year
just to remind them to be fearful
at least a few skiers a year
a few innocent lives a year
avalanche, oh avalanche

Avalanche, oh avalanche by Gregory and the Hawk

Marvel at the architecture

2007-07-15T09:12:00.000-07:00

I decided to get lost in Geneva again...I mildly succeeded.

This past Friday, while on our way to the restaurant/back-end-of-an-alley/guys apartment, we passed by this grungy looking place, covered in graffiti. I didn't get too much of a good look at it as we passed by, but Nadia pointed it out and mentioned that it was a 'bad' part of Geneva. It had a couple of good bars, but was pretty dirty, had shoes hanging off wires, etc. It was interesting, but essentially, a 'different' part of Geneva.

I told her that she pretty much had me at hello and that it was my life's mission to go there. And seeing as how this weekend was shaping up to be a bit of a bust, I decided to check it out today. The first time, I got lost. I took the bus to the stop where we got off for the Eritrean food, and started to walk down. However, I kept stumbling upon all these great little nooks and crannies along the way - ie. a great view of the river, a wall of awesome art/graffiti, a quaint little garden (all pictured bellow). At some point I made a wrong turn, or didn't hang right or left, or whatever I was supposed to do, and surprise surprise, right when I thought I was totally lost I wound up at the same bus stop from the beginning. Seems about right.

Now I had to two choices - go home (which was about 5 minutes away) or take the bus (which was going to be there in one minute) and try again. I took the bus, got off a stop early, and found it.

This place...whatever it is...is amazing.

Now I know that when in Europe you're supposed to marvel at old architecture and historic buildings and yada yada. But honestly, when you find something like this...you just scrap all that history and dive in. Essentially it looked like a small abandoned part of town that got turned into a semi skate park. However, that might not be the right description for it at all. The place is covered in graffiti, every building, every garbage can, every car, just everything. There is an electrical line with shoes thrown over it, however, unlike the ghettos/suburbs in North America there isn't just one shoe thrown over the line, but almost 100 pairs on one line. I was taking a picture of a childs high top converse, and I looked up, and there it was. It was so striking to see all those shoes. Every car or van parked there is long past dead - totaled, spray painted and rusted, gutted, demolished. There is a make shift grave yard for dead skate boards. The place is so much bigger than it lets on to. It has so much potential for great photographs, but I was in just so much shock by the ... ... beauty of this place, that I couldn't do it any justice.

I know that after I described what sounds like a desolate punk rock meets gangsta ghetto, I would refer to it as beautiful, but honestly, while walking through it I marveled at everything as if it was a small piece of art contained inside an even bigger piece. Like it was some kind of political art work with all these social connotations that my brain just couldn't process. That there was this subculture of skate boarders and bmxers who had developed this place as their home, and that some kind of anthropologist could come in and study it and never really understand it. I loved it. It was a perfect example of- what Laura uses as the definition of punk culture - the clash between beauty and ugliness.

Photos + Video from my day bellow:

Frankie tells me "when you take pictures while traveling, make sure you're in the shot" .. but as you can tell, I frequently fail at either a) looking at the camera or b) actually getting the background in the shot.

At the quaint little garden I found while walking around.

Me and the river (not sure which one).

At the garden, standing backwards on a ledge - THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU PEOPLE

A wall with really terrific art on it that I passed while looking for the land of graffiti / getting lost. (it was here I realized I had gone the wrong direction)

In the land of graffiti - one of the first things you see upon entering.

The skateboard grave yard. Behind the gate fronts / ends of skate boards are burried and stick up like tombstones.

These bikes were above a skateboard ramp.

art attack.

for more photos, and larger sizes, go to my flickr page (its in the links)

Video:

(I'd like to say, that if you intend to visit me, and this seems like something you would like to check out, then whatever you do - do not watch this video - i don't get to go through the whole area, and this bumpy walk through does not do it justice - this is really something you have to see up close and personal - so if you want to visit, if you ever plan on going to geneva, if you are ever going to see this in real life - then i don't want this video to be your first glimpse...that said, enjoy)

green plastic watering can

2007-07-14T07:43:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was pretty sweet.

and I just have to say it, because Steph, the rumors are true
WE WENT GROCERY SHOPPING IN FRANCE

[steph and i a month ago - looking forward to our internship
"oh what are you doing this weekend"
"oh i'll probably just go grocery shopping....in France."]

yeah, it happened - look forward to it Stephanie, look forward to it.

But on top of that, last evening we [we = large group of interns/employees (with our organizations and other NGO's)] went to a restaurant...or a guys apartment..or the back-end of a random alley...i guess thats all relative...anyways, we got Eritrean food [or Ethiopian food, depending on who you talk to] Essentially its this huge platter of a spongy sort of flat bread covered in lettuce, tomato, sour cream, meat, spinach, lentils, that you break off and eat and share. It's freaking awesome - Heather's camera should have snap shot of the food platter (we got about four platters) and of the random alley - I don't have those photos, but I will get a hold of them and upload them straight away.
The interesting thing about this group of interns/employees that seem to have created this mini network, is that they all work for these NGO's doing such interesting and important work. They focus on everything from human rights, to hiv/aids, the environment, global trade, development, etc in areas from all over the world. These people are all well traveled, well educated, well cultured, and are putting their talents to good use - they are passionate about what they are doing; helping to change situations, to fight oppression, etc. It's really something to be exposed to a group of people like that. And its not like everyone sits around and plays pretend philosophy club, but when their work comes up, when their master thesis, when an issue is raised..they speak about it with such passion and with such interesting opinions...I guess its great to see people loving what they are doing..

I also saw Harry Potter last night....
I hadn't read this book - I was told to stay away. While I could understand the plot being a touch weaker compared to the others, I have to say the most true thing I heard - in terms of criticism - is that the film doesn't necessarily flow so much as it jumps from one story point to the other. I thought the first segment was fabulous, and that the new characters who were introduced were very well played/directed.

In terms of work
I am still getting into the swing of things. I spent most of yesterday working on some rather easy web edits which could have, or should have, taken only a few minutes to complete, but rather took nearly half the day because I had to search my way through the mass amounts of content to find the pages/documents I wanted to link to. However, that extra time spent searching [and, of course, making ridiculous mistakes while preparing and uploading] allowed me to get to know the ins and outs of the website/cms a bit better. I guess until tyop3 is installed for the TWA site and Mike and I start to hash out transferring [or rather properly transferring, as I tried to write up the code without having the cms actually on the server in order to compare] the template - I guess until then - I'll just try to keep up with web edits and listservs and etc etc.

Today I cleaned my room and kitchen cupboard, started making things more organized and livable since it seems this foyer is where we are like 98%-sure-going-to-stay. It looks like a quiet weekend - which I'm happy with. Just a couple of days to actually get settled and do some work that has been lagging.

I got a plant to help liven up my room...
I don't have a plant name yet - so if anyone has some suggestions, then comment it up.

red flags and long nights

2007-07-11T07:45:00.001-07:00

I'm at work. Waiting for my training to begin! whoot!
I've just finished marking up the css template for the trade week of action website. Its the preliminary markup, so we have yet to make the necessary adjustments to make it IE compatible, converted it to Typo3, etc. It's the first big task I had to do, and I'm happy with the outcome. The graphic design transfered very well, and soon enough, we'll be ready to roll and throw in content. It's pretty cool to be a part of a team and work on this kind of stuff...like..in the real world...as opposed to school projects or random freelance. I probably sound corny as hell, but I'm enjoying it immensely, learning a hell of a lot, and I'm looking forward to the next steps in this project.

The past couple of days have been somewhat uneventful. Sunday, I spent most of the day trying to do something on the computer...download something, I think. But I had a serious issue with the internet connection in the foyer. I have to like, put my computer right up against the window to even get a teensy bit of connectivity. And although we had a nice day Saturday (the day of the lake parade) come Sunday it started raining and thunder storming - and hasn't really stopped (apparently it will on Thursday).

Speaking of thunderstorms, here is a dramatization of a conversation I had with my little sister sunday night:

ME: "It's thundering really bad here"
FRANKIE: "something about getting a new housemate"
ME: "some sort of response"
[random conversation]
ME: "woah, like seriously, its like firecrackers, its so intense"
ME: "its like explosions in the sky"
FRANKIE: "lol"
FRANKIE: "are you worried?"
ME: "Its so crazy right now, brb"
[get up and look out my window]
ME: "it is firecrackers!"
MY COMPUTER: "your message can not be sent because you have been disconnected"
[attempt to reconnect three times]
ME: "It is firecrackers!"
FRANKIE: "ooh"

Monday was work, meeting at FI to get information about our contracts. Tuesday was similar. Except last night Gilberto asked me if I wanted to go out - there was no plan, what out entailed, where we would end up. Turns out we ended up in some sketch part of Geneva near a pizzeria. We went home and decided that it would have probably been better if we had gone with our original gut-feeling of going to Cafe du Lys.
This morning, my alarm clock didn't go off, and I had five minutes to get ready.

I guess you can say, I'm getting into the swing of things.

set your watch / i want to hear it tick

2007-07-09T13:20:00.001-07:00

this is pretty much the best thing to ever happen to my life!!

Haphazard Comic by Laura Zajacz ( Portfolio | DeviantArt)

(click the image to see larger)

I pretty much always wanted to be featured in Laura's comic, and this is pretty much based on an exact conversation we had. Like, to the tee, including the roman numerals and all. I feel freaking famous.

a) see the credits page of High-top Chucks and Bubblegum to read about how i'm never featured in Laura's comics
b) today Gilberto said Laura and I should have a comic based on us - I told Laura and she sent me this gold (written previous to the Gilberto comment, like...fate or something)