Yesterday I spent the day with Bret "The Hitman" Hart. It was my first PR gig and I was responsible for working with his publicist, writing intros and speaking notes and then escorting him around for the day while he acted as our guest speaker for the Foundation golf tournament. While I enjoyed the work I would be lying if I sad I was really expecting much from him. He's a wrestler and I know nothing about wrestling. I didn't think he would be b=very interesting to talk to and I was approaching it as an event I just needed to get through before I could go on vacation. Once again, Caroline re-learns one of life's basic lessons; Don't judge a book by its cover. (Another basic lesson which I apparently have not yet learned? Don't cut your own bangs. Not ever.)
Most of you will have heard all about the Benoit tragedy by now and when I first learned of it I was concerned that Bret wouldn't be able to attend our event. He and Benoit were very close and he was being hounded by media from across Canada and the U. But he still showed which I thought was a testament to the kind of person he is. He was obviously devastated but he came and he spoke about his own experience with stroke and he did an incredible job. I found him articulate, bright, interesting and above all, kind and gentle. He wasn't gruff like I thought he would be and he was a pleasure to meet and spend time with. (On a side note I got to be his publicist when Global National showed up with a live satellite feed with Kevin Newman and I managed the interview which was pretty good experience for me...)
I don't feel like I run around judging people on their appearance, their career or their status in life but I guess there is also always some room to learn that maybe you do it more than you think. I'll also try to refrain from judging wrestling fans from now on...because I sort of just became one. :)
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Update on Project: Tell It Like It is
I haven't forgotten about my Project emails and I don't want anyone to think that they're not coming. They are. They are just a little slower than I first anticipated.
I have been writing them for a week now and my plan is get them all done and send them out en masse. It's harder than I thought it would be. I want to give each person an earnest evaluation and don't want to write some pat email about how nice they are and how they are good at sharing. Its been hard to sit and really think about each person in my life and not let me emotions get too out of control and in the way of a fair analysis. I feel, so far, like this is a very valuable exercise...to sit down and really think about each person and what they have brought to my life. It's humbling in a way and it makes me feel very lucky.
I have been writing them for a week now and my plan is get them all done and send them out en masse. It's harder than I thought it would be. I want to give each person an earnest evaluation and don't want to write some pat email about how nice they are and how they are good at sharing. Its been hard to sit and really think about each person in my life and not let me emotions get too out of control and in the way of a fair analysis. I feel, so far, like this is a very valuable exercise...to sit down and really think about each person and what they have brought to my life. It's humbling in a way and it makes me feel very lucky.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Another Cliche Gets a Makeover...
I did a post about this a few weeks ago but just discovered two more dandies that I had to mention:
1. My friend the IT guy says he must hear "Silicone Valley" used more often than the original and more accurate Silicon Valley. I think Silicone Valley is a little more South.
2. Just read on a blog:
"Ugh, I hate how I look...my skin is just so pastry white."
(Maybe white like apple pie? Or an éclair?)
Love it.
1. My friend the IT guy says he must hear "Silicone Valley" used more often than the original and more accurate Silicon Valley. I think Silicone Valley is a little more South.
2. Just read on a blog:
"Ugh, I hate how I look...my skin is just so pastry white."
(Maybe white like apple pie? Or an éclair?)
Love it.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
PROJECT: Tell It Like It Is (or at least how I think it is...)
Here it is folks, the launch of my very first project. Well, my first public project anyway...I've been working on getting into the splits but nobody needs to be privy to those kinds of agonizing contortions.
Here is the premise: I am a big believer in letting the people in your life know that they are valued and why. Life is too short for anyone to wonder if they are appreciated. Most people don't really do this and although I've always made a point of trying I am sure there are many people who might be surprised to hear how I feel. So, I'm going to tell you...each and every one of you.
Here is how it will work: In the next week or so I will be sending out Project emails so that you know you've been included in the project. (If for some reason you don't get one and you feel like you should be included...let me know.) Don't worry, this will be a positive experience ...except for a certain person who lives in Sudbury. (But I probably won't email her because, what's the point?) Anyway, I have no idea how long this will take so I ask that you bear with me. (You could also bare with me I suppose but that might be a little awkward.) I currently have a list of over 50 people including such web-icons (Hah, get it? Web? Icon?) as Heather Armstrong as well as friends, family, work colleagues, politicians and a whole bunch of people at CBC radio.
Now, I am not naive enough to think that everyone will actually care what I think. But that's okay. I will have told them and that's the point. I should mention too that any responses I receive might end up on this blog...so consider yourself forewarned.
And we're off!
Here is the premise: I am a big believer in letting the people in your life know that they are valued and why. Life is too short for anyone to wonder if they are appreciated. Most people don't really do this and although I've always made a point of trying I am sure there are many people who might be surprised to hear how I feel. So, I'm going to tell you...each and every one of you.
Here is how it will work: In the next week or so I will be sending out Project emails so that you know you've been included in the project. (If for some reason you don't get one and you feel like you should be included...let me know.) Don't worry, this will be a positive experience ...except for a certain person who lives in Sudbury. (But I probably won't email her because, what's the point?) Anyway, I have no idea how long this will take so I ask that you bear with me. (You could also bare with me I suppose but that might be a little awkward.) I currently have a list of over 50 people including such web-icons (Hah, get it? Web? Icon?) as Heather Armstrong as well as friends, family, work colleagues, politicians and a whole bunch of people at CBC radio.
Now, I am not naive enough to think that everyone will actually care what I think. But that's okay. I will have told them and that's the point. I should mention too that any responses I receive might end up on this blog...so consider yourself forewarned.
And we're off!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Small but Simple Ways to Improve the World...
Following is a list of things I swear to you, my readers, that I will never do:
1. I will never spit out of my car window. Not unless a bee flies in my mouth or I happen to drive past the guy responsible for breeding the first miniature-poodle.
2. I will never insist I can sing, even though it's painfully obvious I can't, and then audition for some idol television show. If I audition it will be because I know damn well I cannot sing.
3. I won't pick a hairstyle and then use it everyday for the rest of my life. My hair will grow and change with the times.
4. I won't ever put on makeup while driving my car.
5. If I have kids I will never put them on a leash. Unless it's very long and tied to the front of a sled.
6. I won't blame other people if I never make something of myself.
7. I won't become morbidly (or even cheerfully) obese.
8. I will do my damnedest to never make an elderly person feel unwanted, bothersome or unimportant. Unless that elderly person is a Bush.
9. I will never reject new technology (or music, or fashion trends) simply because it is new. One armed blouses aren't new and they have always been stupid.
10. I won't ever let my blog just die without saying good-bye. Unless I myself die suddenly.
Okay, that's it for now. Now it's your turn? What do you promise to never do?
1. I will never spit out of my car window. Not unless a bee flies in my mouth or I happen to drive past the guy responsible for breeding the first miniature-poodle.
2. I will never insist I can sing, even though it's painfully obvious I can't, and then audition for some idol television show. If I audition it will be because I know damn well I cannot sing.
3. I won't pick a hairstyle and then use it everyday for the rest of my life. My hair will grow and change with the times.
4. I won't ever put on makeup while driving my car.
5. If I have kids I will never put them on a leash. Unless it's very long and tied to the front of a sled.
6. I won't blame other people if I never make something of myself.
7. I won't become morbidly (or even cheerfully) obese.
8. I will do my damnedest to never make an elderly person feel unwanted, bothersome or unimportant. Unless that elderly person is a Bush.
9. I will never reject new technology (or music, or fashion trends) simply because it is new. One armed blouses aren't new and they have always been stupid.
10. I won't ever let my blog just die without saying good-bye. Unless I myself die suddenly.
Okay, that's it for now. Now it's your turn? What do you promise to never do?
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Fender Bender Leaves Calgary Couple Jaded and Bent
Special Report
Karoline Nox - Reporter
A minor fender bender left a Calgary couple late for work and feeling shaken up, Monday morning. While traveling south bound on 14th Street NW, the couple, who were driving a white VW Passat were rear-ended by a white 1990 Dodge Colt. "I saw her coming in my rear-view mirror, " says the driver of the Passat, Caroline Knox, 29. "She wasn't even looking, she just seemed to be digging around in the car and never looked up. I braced for the impact...it was pretty hard." Shaken and annoyed by the avoidable collision Knox and her husband, Brian West, 31, who was sitting in the passenger side pulled over to avoid another accident. "I told her (Knox) to call 9-1-1 because there was fluid and glass all over the road" said West, "When I looked over she was calling 9-1-1 and then, the next thing I knew, she was on the phone with CBC's traffic reporter, giving them them all the details of the accident. She really loves CBC radio."
The other occupant of the car, who was still wearing her gigantic sun hat after exiting her car, was slightly injured by her seat belt but was otherwise unharmed. "My foot slipped and I hit the gas instead of the brake" said the woman, who refused to give her name, "It was an accident." "Yah right." said Knox, while rolling her eyes.
Firetrucks and police arrived at the scene but took longer than Knox or West expected, "I have four job interviews today." said West, who looked dashing in his navy blue pinstriped suit. The fireman were quick to clean up the glass and were very attractive and well-bronzed from their daily workouts. Knox commented on the excellent service they received at the scene, "One of the hot ones asked me if I needed an ambulance. Mouth-to-mouth I might have accepted, but an ambulance? Not necessary."
Damage estimates for the Passat sit at $4,000 while the Dodge Colt was totaled and needed to be towed from the scene. Police issued a ticket for careless driving to the occupant of the Colt. "I knew her foot didn't slip, " said Knox, "Do they hand out tickets for retarded driving too?"
Approximately 45 minutes after the initial collision, both Knox and West were able to leave the scene. While both occupants sustained minor injuries, Knox seemed the worst off and was unable to attend work for several days after the incident, "Whiplash is a bitch," said Knox, "I could hardly even move. But I'm okay...nothing too serious." "I'm just happy that we're both okay, " said West, who appeared to be the more rational of the two, "It makes you realize how quickly things can go wrong." "Especially when you're a moron driving a car." added Knox.
Karoline Nox - Reporter
A minor fender bender left a Calgary couple late for work and feeling shaken up, Monday morning. While traveling south bound on 14th Street NW, the couple, who were driving a white VW Passat were rear-ended by a white 1990 Dodge Colt. "I saw her coming in my rear-view mirror, " says the driver of the Passat, Caroline Knox, 29. "She wasn't even looking, she just seemed to be digging around in the car and never looked up. I braced for the impact...it was pretty hard." Shaken and annoyed by the avoidable collision Knox and her husband, Brian West, 31, who was sitting in the passenger side pulled over to avoid another accident. "I told her (Knox) to call 9-1-1 because there was fluid and glass all over the road" said West, "When I looked over she was calling 9-1-1 and then, the next thing I knew, she was on the phone with CBC's traffic reporter, giving them them all the details of the accident. She really loves CBC radio."
The other occupant of the car, who was still wearing her gigantic sun hat after exiting her car, was slightly injured by her seat belt but was otherwise unharmed. "My foot slipped and I hit the gas instead of the brake" said the woman, who refused to give her name, "It was an accident." "Yah right." said Knox, while rolling her eyes.
Firetrucks and police arrived at the scene but took longer than Knox or West expected, "I have four job interviews today." said West, who looked dashing in his navy blue pinstriped suit. The fireman were quick to clean up the glass and were very attractive and well-bronzed from their daily workouts. Knox commented on the excellent service they received at the scene, "One of the hot ones asked me if I needed an ambulance. Mouth-to-mouth I might have accepted, but an ambulance? Not necessary."
Damage estimates for the Passat sit at $4,000 while the Dodge Colt was totaled and needed to be towed from the scene. Police issued a ticket for careless driving to the occupant of the Colt. "I knew her foot didn't slip, " said Knox, "Do they hand out tickets for retarded driving too?"
Approximately 45 minutes after the initial collision, both Knox and West were able to leave the scene. While both occupants sustained minor injuries, Knox seemed the worst off and was unable to attend work for several days after the incident, "Whiplash is a bitch," said Knox, "I could hardly even move. But I'm okay...nothing too serious." "I'm just happy that we're both okay, " said West, who appeared to be the more rational of the two, "It makes you realize how quickly things can go wrong." "Especially when you're a moron driving a car." added Knox.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Warbled Gords
I don't know what you would call these misused words but they're pretty funny and increasingly common:
On a personal blog:
"I didn't want him to think I took him for granite..."
(Or concrete or heaven forbid, even brick...)
In a THIS Magazine story:
"And it's healthy - hemp seed is a high source of protein and contains essential fatty assets."
(Fatty assets? Is that what happens when saddle-bags meets money bag?)
In a conversation yesterday...repeatedly used by everyone at the table except me:
"If money were no option...""If I could go anywhere and money were no option I would go to Tuscany."
(Really? If money were no object I would send you back to high school English.)
And the one I hear literally everyday at work:
"The idea just needs to be flushed out..." "Good point Caroline, can you flush it out for us a little bit?"
(I can flesh it out if you would prefer. Or hey, even better, I could get another job.)
On a personal blog:
"I didn't want him to think I took him for granite..."
(Or concrete or heaven forbid, even brick...)
In a THIS Magazine story:
"And it's healthy - hemp seed is a high source of protein and contains essential fatty assets."
(Fatty assets? Is that what happens when saddle-bags meets money bag?)
In a conversation yesterday...repeatedly used by everyone at the table except me:
"If money were no option...""If I could go anywhere and money were no option I would go to Tuscany."
(Really? If money were no object I would send you back to high school English.)
And the one I hear literally everyday at work:
"The idea just needs to be flushed out..." "Good point Caroline, can you flush it out for us a little bit?"
(I can flesh it out if you would prefer. Or hey, even better, I could get another job.)
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
This Morning
Oprah would call it a "lightbulb" moment, Dr.Phil an "Aha!" experience. To me, it was a gentle reminder of a lesson I've learned but had forgotten.
This morning it snowed. A lot. I looked out the window and my heart sank. All my beautiful flowers planted (prematurely, I'll admit) in the front garden were covered in 10cm of thick, heavy snow. And I had slept in. I rushed around the house, dragging out the sweaters I packed away two weeks ago and packed a lunch. I was feeling irritable and stressed and annoyed...at nothing and at everything.
Brian was driving me to work today and so he headed outside to brush off the car while I finished putting my lunch together. I went to the door to put on my shoes and saw him across the street. "What the hell is he doing over there?" I thought, "Doesn't he know I'm late!" I felt grumpy and a little annoyed that he wasn't doing what needed to be done so I could get to work on time.
Brian was across the street talking to the old woman whose townhouse faces ours. When I saw him take the broom out of her hand and proceed to brush all the snow from her sidewalk, I stopped and watched. She stood there looking old and frail and happy as he cleared the snow and then beat the broom against the tall tree in her front yard, releasing it from the weight of the heavy snow. A big branch had already fallen from the tree and he picked that up too and took it away to the dumpster.
As I stood there on this January/May day I not only fell in love with Brian all over again, I realized how quickly and easily we fall into selfish behaviour. I wasn't late for work this morning, I still had my coffee and a little old lady has a renewed sense of community and a back that doesn't hurt.
This morning it snowed. A lot. I looked out the window and my heart sank. All my beautiful flowers planted (prematurely, I'll admit) in the front garden were covered in 10cm of thick, heavy snow. And I had slept in. I rushed around the house, dragging out the sweaters I packed away two weeks ago and packed a lunch. I was feeling irritable and stressed and annoyed...at nothing and at everything.
Brian was driving me to work today and so he headed outside to brush off the car while I finished putting my lunch together. I went to the door to put on my shoes and saw him across the street. "What the hell is he doing over there?" I thought, "Doesn't he know I'm late!" I felt grumpy and a little annoyed that he wasn't doing what needed to be done so I could get to work on time.
Brian was across the street talking to the old woman whose townhouse faces ours. When I saw him take the broom out of her hand and proceed to brush all the snow from her sidewalk, I stopped and watched. She stood there looking old and frail and happy as he cleared the snow and then beat the broom against the tall tree in her front yard, releasing it from the weight of the heavy snow. A big branch had already fallen from the tree and he picked that up too and took it away to the dumpster.
As I stood there on this January/May day I not only fell in love with Brian all over again, I realized how quickly and easily we fall into selfish behaviour. I wasn't late for work this morning, I still had my coffee and a little old lady has a renewed sense of community and a back that doesn't hurt.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
The Office
I've been working at my job now for 15 months. In my time here I have helped write the organizations first research brochure, become the web editor for the province, taken on the duty of provincial photographer, developed and maintained relationships with key researchers, organized media interviews, organized parties, team building lunches, chili cook-offs, brought the writing standards up by several notches, remained positive and optimistic in the face of major organizational upheavals and staffing changes, never made a spelling mistake, kept my boss organized and informed of what was going on, where we were meeting and why, given valuable input on strategy, come up with unique and creative marketing strategies and I have been undervalued and overlooked and drastically underestimated...and all for far less money than I should be making given my performance, capability, education and the job market I am working in.
But today made it all worth while. Today, as a reward, I was given a cubicle near the window.
So when I finally decide to jump I won't have to run as far.
But today made it all worth while. Today, as a reward, I was given a cubicle near the window.
So when I finally decide to jump I won't have to run as far.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Life in a Revolving Restaurant...
This past weekend we went to Edmonton for my Dad's surprise party. He's been staying up and working on the house for the past few weeks and I was really missing him. His birthday actually isn't until June but since my brothers and their ladies are all headed off for various countries very soon, we decided to celebrate a little early. Dad had no idea what was coming. As far as he knew, he was going for a nice dinner with Mum and Craig and Bobbi and when he showed up there were 15 other people there. My Aunt and Uncle and cousins, some of our oldest and dearest family friends, my other brother and his girlfriend and of course, Brian and I. The look on his face when he saw us was pure magic.
I have found over the past few years that how I look at my parents has really changed. When I was younger they were "Mum and Dad" - older, wiser, funny but at the end of the day, my parents. Now that I am an adult I see them as more than just my parents. I see them as complete individuals, as a couple but also independent of each other. I recognize myself in them and I see their lives with greater clarity and a sense of recognition. I am able to see myself in them in a way I never could before. This has been a wonderful gift for me and I feel like I have a far deeper understanding of how they must have felt at different points along their life, because I have experienced a lot of the same things in my life now. With this greater connection also comes a greater understanding of pain and how difficult and complicated life can be. I see them struggle with growing older and know that I will have the same struggle. I see them making adjustments as they move to a new stage of their life and I watch and learn.
My Dad really is an amazing man. I watched him on Saturday night as he went to every single person in the room and made them feel valued and special. He had kind words for each person and they were personal and genuine. He has an energy that lights up a room and makes every one in it feel like they are the most important person there. He has a vulnerability that he does not try to hide and it makes people feel like they can be vulnerable too...like they can just relax and be who they are. I was so happy to see him there surrounded by people who love him and respect him and I hope he knew, at that moment, how truly loved he is.
I have found over the past few years that how I look at my parents has really changed. When I was younger they were "Mum and Dad" - older, wiser, funny but at the end of the day, my parents. Now that I am an adult I see them as more than just my parents. I see them as complete individuals, as a couple but also independent of each other. I recognize myself in them and I see their lives with greater clarity and a sense of recognition. I am able to see myself in them in a way I never could before. This has been a wonderful gift for me and I feel like I have a far deeper understanding of how they must have felt at different points along their life, because I have experienced a lot of the same things in my life now. With this greater connection also comes a greater understanding of pain and how difficult and complicated life can be. I see them struggle with growing older and know that I will have the same struggle. I see them making adjustments as they move to a new stage of their life and I watch and learn.
My Dad really is an amazing man. I watched him on Saturday night as he went to every single person in the room and made them feel valued and special. He had kind words for each person and they were personal and genuine. He has an energy that lights up a room and makes every one in it feel like they are the most important person there. He has a vulnerability that he does not try to hide and it makes people feel like they can be vulnerable too...like they can just relax and be who they are. I was so happy to see him there surrounded by people who love him and respect him and I hope he knew, at that moment, how truly loved he is.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
In Defense of the Indefenceable
Damn Facebook.
I feel like my web-based life has become completely one-dimensional. I recently bought a domain with the full intention of building an entire site. It sits idle and ugly (two very bad things to be if you can help it). I haven't blogged since our Mr. Vonnegut's demise and although I'd like to flub that off as self-imposed mourning time, it wasn't. I was buried neck-deep in Facebook.
I often feel the need to defend this new kid on the block because its increasing popularity and subsequent vulnerability to naysayers. I've heard things about how people just add friends to make themselves look popular (So? Maybe I really do have 159 close, personal friends - did you ever think of that!?) and that it is a total time-sucker and well, that's true. But so is breathing and nobody complains about that.
I feel like my web-based life has become completely one-dimensional. I recently bought a domain with the full intention of building an entire site. It sits idle and ugly (two very bad things to be if you can help it). I haven't blogged since our Mr. Vonnegut's demise and although I'd like to flub that off as self-imposed mourning time, it wasn't. I was buried neck-deep in Facebook.
I often feel the need to defend this new kid on the block because its increasing popularity and subsequent vulnerability to naysayers. I've heard things about how people just add friends to make themselves look popular (So? Maybe I really do have 159 close, personal friends - did you ever think of that!?) and that it is a total time-sucker and well, that's true. But so is breathing and nobody complains about that.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Kurt Vonnegut Jr. 1922-2007
Kurt Vonnegut has died and I don't know what I'm more surprised about; the fact that he lived as long as he did or the deep sense of loss and sadness I feel.
Kurt Vonnegut was my favourite writer and has been since I first read Cat's Cradle in 1995. I think what impressed me most at that young age was how witty and completely irreverent he was. He had opinions that were flagrantly anti-social but he came across as insightful and wise instead of cranky and ill-adjusted. I wanted to be him.
His writing was sharp and edgy and extremely demanding. He was obviously intelligent and subtly sad and I sometimes felt frustrated on his behalf. To have witnessed the war, to feel a natural connection with all mankind and to communicate it so vividly and then...to be ignored. Never as a writer, but as a social critic. The people who listened already knew. How angry he must have been at times. Him and Noam Chomsky would have had a lot to say over beers.
Kurt was on my list of things to do before I died. I wanted to meet him. I have written him several letters over the years and sent none of them. They were never good enough, never worthy of being read by him. Did I learn a lesson now that he's gone and I'll never meet him or even have the chance to thank him? You bet I did.
I feel like the world has lost an important voice. A hysterically prodding and achingly accurate, in your face, peace-loving and at times, desperate, voice. I feel like I've lost a very good friend and the only thing that brings me comfort is that I knew him at all.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Breathing...
Throughout my life I've often felt a little culturally disconnected - I always wanted to be able to identify myself as one thing or another and never really could. My parents grew up in Africa but my mother's roots are Scottish. My father is South African but his parents were originally from Scotland and the Isle of Man. Then they moved to Canada and I grew up in Alberta. I took Scottish dancing when I was young and identified strongly with Scotland through my Grandma and the time I spent there. But I always felt like a bit of a fake. I grew up eating South African food and hearing African stories and visited there many times as a child and then as an adult. Africa is in my blood and I feel a love for South Africa that runs deep and makes no rational sense. There have been times where I think I should move there and live the life that is rightfully mine and fight with the Africans to reclaim a country of power and beauty and justice. But I'd get killed doing it and I have to face the fact that I don't belong. At the end of the day I'm a Canadian. There is nothing wrong with being a Canadian, in fact it's wonderful. But sometimes I feel envious of people who wear their ethnic clothes and eat their food and know, without a doubt, where they come from and who they are.
Last night we went to see the Soweto Gospel Choir, more for the Soweto aspect than for the Gospel. They were everything I expected and more - colourful, vibrant and achingly beautiful. Their voices, singing in Zulu, Xhosa and some English told the story of South Africa and the struggles of the blacks. They were songs and sounds that are familiar to me because I have heard them being sung by many Africans in Africa. I felt like such an outsider watching them dance and sing and I ached to feel a part of it. I watched my Mum and Dad who were sitting next to me and I imagined they must have felt some similar feelings - Africa is their homeland, the place where they grew up and yet, white people are depicted often as Africa's conquerors and tyrants. It makes me sad to think that my parents might feel as isolated and uprooted as I sometimes do.
I did a lot of thinking while listening to the choir - about people and communities and how we work better as a group than as individuals. I thought about Africa and the future of that continent and how many horrible things it has experienced. I thought about white people and how rigid and pursed we often are. I thought about life and what connects me to the people who are living on the same planet at the same time as me and for a fleeting moment that feeling of disconnect disappeared. For one beautiful second I felt a sense of communion with every person on that stage, in that room and on this earth. It was good.
Last night we went to see the Soweto Gospel Choir, more for the Soweto aspect than for the Gospel. They were everything I expected and more - colourful, vibrant and achingly beautiful. Their voices, singing in Zulu, Xhosa and some English told the story of South Africa and the struggles of the blacks. They were songs and sounds that are familiar to me because I have heard them being sung by many Africans in Africa. I felt like such an outsider watching them dance and sing and I ached to feel a part of it. I watched my Mum and Dad who were sitting next to me and I imagined they must have felt some similar feelings - Africa is their homeland, the place where they grew up and yet, white people are depicted often as Africa's conquerors and tyrants. It makes me sad to think that my parents might feel as isolated and uprooted as I sometimes do.
I did a lot of thinking while listening to the choir - about people and communities and how we work better as a group than as individuals. I thought about Africa and the future of that continent and how many horrible things it has experienced. I thought about white people and how rigid and pursed we often are. I thought about life and what connects me to the people who are living on the same planet at the same time as me and for a fleeting moment that feeling of disconnect disappeared. For one beautiful second I felt a sense of communion with every person on that stage, in that room and on this earth. It was good.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Soaking Wet
Some days you just need something good to happen. A lot of times it doesn't and you just sort of make do with the day-to-day niceties that can be amplified into day-improving events with a vivid imagination. Today I didn't need to rely on such hyperbole, I had a good thing happen right out of the blue.
I dropped Brian off at Rona this morning because he is working on his first job of the fencing season. (It starts.) The day was more white than gray and my heart was more gray than light so I did what any self-respecting semi-sad woman would do; I headed to the shoe store. I walked right past the regularly priced shoes and directly to the clearance section (where the shoes don't fit but the prices do) where I proceeded to man handle the 12 pairs of affordable shoes available to me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two young girls staring at me. I sort of smiled their way and went back to a particularly ugly pair of purple pumps. "It's your lucky day!" the two girls started screaming. "We're going to spend $100 on you!" The next thing I knew, radio station pamphlets were being shoved into my hands, the purple pumps were dropped to the floor and I was being dragged around the store by two pretty and very excited promotions girls. I bought shoes I would never have really even looked at. I bought Sketchers. Sketchers that weren't even on sale. By the end of the hour I had three new pairs of shoes and all I paid was $30.
It was a cloudy day...but it was raining shoes.
I dropped Brian off at Rona this morning because he is working on his first job of the fencing season. (It starts.) The day was more white than gray and my heart was more gray than light so I did what any self-respecting semi-sad woman would do; I headed to the shoe store. I walked right past the regularly priced shoes and directly to the clearance section (where the shoes don't fit but the prices do) where I proceeded to man handle the 12 pairs of affordable shoes available to me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two young girls staring at me. I sort of smiled their way and went back to a particularly ugly pair of purple pumps. "It's your lucky day!" the two girls started screaming. "We're going to spend $100 on you!" The next thing I knew, radio station pamphlets were being shoved into my hands, the purple pumps were dropped to the floor and I was being dragged around the store by two pretty and very excited promotions girls. I bought shoes I would never have really even looked at. I bought Sketchers. Sketchers that weren't even on sale. By the end of the hour I had three new pairs of shoes and all I paid was $30.
It was a cloudy day...but it was raining shoes.
Monday, March 19, 2007
What TV is good at...
Last night Brian and I did CBC's Test the Nation. It was a two-hour long television special - essentially an IQ test for the whole country. It was awesome. I've never been a huge fan of TV. I like the medium and I love its potential but I find that it is largely wasted. I enjoy the brain-softening escapes from reality as much as the next person but I feel like its usually all the box has to offer. Last night made me feel excited about TV again. It was interactive, it was smart, hip and fun. It paired the internet with the TV special so that people could take the test either online or along with the people in the studio. I don't know who dreamed that concept up but I hope it catches on because I sat in front of the TV for two hours and I left feeling smarter, not dumber.
Monday, March 12, 2007
In sickness and in health...
It's easy to take things for granted when there is so much to take for granted. It's easy to stop thanking people or for the beauties of everyday life to become nothing but the backdrop. When things don't end up the way you want or you get thrown a curve-ball it's easy to miss how lucky you still are.
I've always prided myself on being able to find good in everyone and everything. It's a trait I learned/inherited from my Grandma. Bombs could be falling all around her and she would remark on the blueness of the sky. She didn't have an easy life but her attitude helped to make it a good one.
Throughout this diabetes thing there have been fleeting moments of self pity and of anger. The unfairness of it all and the incense that it could be me. Then I think of the people in the world who are born in abject poverty or who have had far, far worse things happen to them and I feel sheepish.
The one thing I have come to appreciate even more than I already did is the Canadian health care system. You hear people complaining about it (which confirms my ever-strengthening theory that Canadians love to complain - it's part of our self-deprecating psyches) but when you need it, it just swoops in there like a net. I have seen doctors, dietitians and nurses and I have seen them within weeks of my diagnosis and hours at a time. There is a whole clinic set up in Calgary just for diabetic women who are pregnant or trying to get pregnant. They set up lab tests, ultrasounds and specialist appointments with warmth, speed and efficiency. And it doesn't cost a thing. I feel like I have had better care than I probably would anywhere else in the world and I draw real comfort from that knowledge that it isn't in any way related to my race or income. It feels good to know that any woman who found herself in this position would receive good care. Because after all, those who cannot pay for it usually need it most.
It's not perfect and like anything in life, our health-care system could use some improvements. It could also use some of our gratitude.
I've always prided myself on being able to find good in everyone and everything. It's a trait I learned/inherited from my Grandma. Bombs could be falling all around her and she would remark on the blueness of the sky. She didn't have an easy life but her attitude helped to make it a good one.
Throughout this diabetes thing there have been fleeting moments of self pity and of anger. The unfairness of it all and the incense that it could be me. Then I think of the people in the world who are born in abject poverty or who have had far, far worse things happen to them and I feel sheepish.
The one thing I have come to appreciate even more than I already did is the Canadian health care system. You hear people complaining about it (which confirms my ever-strengthening theory that Canadians love to complain - it's part of our self-deprecating psyches) but when you need it, it just swoops in there like a net. I have seen doctors, dietitians and nurses and I have seen them within weeks of my diagnosis and hours at a time. There is a whole clinic set up in Calgary just for diabetic women who are pregnant or trying to get pregnant. They set up lab tests, ultrasounds and specialist appointments with warmth, speed and efficiency. And it doesn't cost a thing. I feel like I have had better care than I probably would anywhere else in the world and I draw real comfort from that knowledge that it isn't in any way related to my race or income. It feels good to know that any woman who found herself in this position would receive good care. Because after all, those who cannot pay for it usually need it most.
It's not perfect and like anything in life, our health-care system could use some improvements. It could also use some of our gratitude.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Odds
The needles aren't that bad. They are very tiny and since the injections just go under the skin I don't have to bother with finding a vein or anything. In fact, it's more like playing a game of darts on my own tummy. Huck it and hope it sticks.
The math involved with calculating how many grams of carbohydrates I'm about to eat and then from that figuring out how many units of insulin are required to cover said grams is a little more complicated. This is one of life's little ironies - I'm horrible at math and have done my best to avoid it and now my life depends on my ability to cross-multiply. Nice. Next thing you know I'll be held hostage by a crazed-gunman who will shoot me in the head if I can't name the last ten Stanley Cup winners.
The math involved with calculating how many grams of carbohydrates I'm about to eat and then from that figuring out how many units of insulin are required to cover said grams is a little more complicated. This is one of life's little ironies - I'm horrible at math and have done my best to avoid it and now my life depends on my ability to cross-multiply. Nice. Next thing you know I'll be held hostage by a crazed-gunman who will shoot me in the head if I can't name the last ten Stanley Cup winners.
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