* not with ink

Tonight, I was going to write a blog entry about Advent and this being the Week of Hope. Instead, I responded vulnerably to a vulnerably honest email and wrote a poem that will not be making an appearance on this blog. Last night, a friend told me they'd been catching up on my blog after a long spell of not reading it. Curious, I asked, "And what did you learn about my life from it?" "I learned that there are pictures of you in a bikini somewhere ." Not the response I expected. But funny. And true. There are photos of me in a bikini, and there are poems I have written this month, and neither are going to make it onto the blog. I am flaunting my right to privacy. Is that rude? You know what though, tonight's emails showed me that when someone is willing to risk vulnerability with me, I can surprise even myself with my ability to be honest in return. The End.

Nadine and I have magnetic poetry on our fridge door. I always wanted magnetic poetry when I was small. It is very satisfying to have it as a part of my "grown-up life." Whenever I spot a new poem, I smile. This one made me laugh out loud tonight: Spiderman could not climb the tree So he cursed every blossom & his life And this is one I am quite proud of writing: I am bruised like a cliche

...with a pair of boots. I hate shoe shopping. There are so few shoes that fit right, that are that perfect intersection of comfort, style, and utility. And right now, I need winter shoes. Winter boots and winter shoes. At least two pairs of durable and warm foot coverings for the coming months. These boots hit the sweet spot. Now to drum up $250 so I can call them my own. Kidding. I'll just think about them. All. Winter. Long.

Two preamble thoughts: a) I was going to save some of these for future weeks that are lacking, but I just couldn't choose which ones to pull. They're all soooooooo good. b) I've decided that Nadine is like Sleep Talkin' Man , except she says outrageous things when she is awake and uses less profanity. Also, there are fewer talking animals.  That is all. (Here are the last twenty-one weeks .) her: I'm trying to play Lexulous and it's stressing me out. her: Are you not participating in my pity party??? her: I don't want spells on my underwear. her: If I didn't have a body...It would be much cheaper to live. her: Remember when I said I was going to get up and brush my teeth? Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...didn't really mean it. her: It's not like, oh crap, I'm in an unhappy marriage because my mother WILLED it. her: Is that a sign of being a grown-up? Paying for the dentist instead of going to a Hanson concert? her: If not

Being on the receiving end of unexpected generosity. Taking conversations with new friends from the "mid-range" level to the "honestly honest" level. Knowing how to handle gossip. Being patient with small children. Being patient with overgrown children. Waiting. For pretty much anything. Going to bed on time. That is all. For today.

I didn't grow up in a liturgically-religious family, and I only vaguely understood Advent and Lent for a long time. But since I finished university, I've realized that liturgy can be beautiful and solemn and joyful and incredibly meaningful. Last year, a friend sent me a link to a site called The Advent Door . It's a series of paintings and reflections to take you through the Advent season. I am going to enjoy it again this year, and wanted to share it with you all, should you be looking for some liturgy and art this month. I won't promise it, but I'm considering my blogging my thoughts/answers to her reflective questions. You could then leave comments with your own additions. (Santa Claus parade occurred today and I walked past part of it... Apparently Shrek, tractor trailers, and Westjet airplanes are now "holiday themed." Who would have known.)

Since I woke up this morning thinking about Megamind , I thought I'd just say that if you have a child, access to a child, or are a child at heart, you should go and see it. Hilarious and heartwarming. Here is the final trailer: And the ComicCon trailer: And a clip of witty banter:

Since this week ended on a surprisingly high note (who would have thought I'd not only survive a PD Day, but actually enjoy it!?), I'm going to share some fun nannying moments before I forget again that this job can be glorious. First, G. and I are getting along great. His favourite topic of conversation is "Things I Could Beat Beth At" and the list is endless (in his mind). I have trouble knowing how to encourage him without lying and/or inflating his ego in an unhealthy way. I also love telling him how much I appreciate his patience with C. This positive reinforcement seems to help. And now a list of funny things that C. has said recently: (eating a cracker) Crunchy things get wet in your mouth. Want to feel it? (after blowing me a kiss) There were no hearts when I did that! (talking about his "girlfriend") I just walked up to her and gave her a hug. I can't believe I did that! And then I gave her a kiss! I can't believe I did t

Nadine-quotes are now being collected for a special themed-edition that will run early in December... You'll love it. I know this, because I love it. (Hint: one of last week's quotes is on this theme. But you wouldn't know it.) Without further ado, this week's quotes: me: Okay. I'm going pee. Then to bed. (this is my way of ending our conversation late at night) her: Pee, then bed. That's the best order. her: Yeah, he has gay face. me: I have two questions for you. her: Hello. her: I like voices. her: You know how you said massive clubbing? I may have written down massive sex. What's massive sex? me: Um, I said excessive clubbing . me: (prepping for Mumford & Sons) I don't know if I have EVER been so excited for a concert! her: It's like you're me, when I was 18 and going to see Jake . her: I have never sat down to ponder the follicular situation of men.

I recently told a friend that I'd realized a fundamental difference between the two of us. “You lie to yourself a lot less than I do. Either you honestly have not realized something about who you are and how you act OR you own up to it, admit it to yourself and others, and move along. I, on the other hand, will realize something about myself and then proceed to pretend it's not true, hiding it from others and denying it while simultaneously attempting to change it.” Public self-reflection, a deep honesty and vulnerability are not easy for me. In the words of Marcus Mumford, “ I am afraid of what I will discover inside. ” In the past few weeks, I've heard myself telling more lies than usual (or maybe I'm just more aware that I'm lying?). Most have been these “little white lies” that seem harmless and innocent and really just serve to save face. Some have been indirect, lies that lead people to believe something other than the truth with some mild misdirection. And a

I've been itching to blog about the Mumford & Sons concert, but it took a few days for all my thoughts to settle. At the end of the night, I honestly felt like I was a snow-globe that had just been shaken for the last three hours, complete with an aching back. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This momentous event is getting two blog entries . One that is a strict review of the musical event, and the other a more in-depth analysis of my personal experience. These are my thoughts on the music/performances. The externals. The first act was a-man called King Charles . I dislike his persona but quite enjoyed his sound. It's amazing what you can do with a guitar and a voice. His white pants were horribly scandalous and unattractively distracting (that video is not for the faint of heart, conservative and young readers). I'm mildly jealous of his hair , although I was annoyed when he flipped it in front of his face and sang behind it as if he were veiled. "I paid m

Please stop getting away from me. I just can't seem to get a handle on you. I need more time. More time to sleep, more time to think, and more time to write, specifically. That is all I have time for before I fall asleep tonight. But it is not all that I'd like to say to you. You fascinate me and I have a lot of opinions about you. Most of them are probably wrong, but maybe if I had more time, we could talk them through. Beth

Shout out to a couple friendships tonight, while I wait for Kings of Leon to play on Jimmy Fallon.* Friendship #1 (and 1.5): I actually meet Friend 1.5 first, but we're only casual acquaintances. I meet Friend 1 and take her for a coffee, thinking I probably won't meet her again...but then she moves to my city and becomes my coworker and before long, my friend. I drive 9 hours to go to her wedding (to Friend 1.5). She was the first person I cried about leaving behind in Vancouver. But then they end up moving to Ontario a few months later. New territory for them both. It is not much of a sacrifice to hop on a bus to the next town over for a dinner of eggplant parmesan, followed by a dessert of pumpkin ice cream, chocolate biscotti, and chai ( all homemade!!!!!!!!!) . Hanging out tonight was hilarious . And encouraging . The best combination of worlds. I wish I'd just tape recorded the whole night. (Amelia and Varun can't help but being funny, and Amelia blogs about thei

This week's post contains a few tidbits from last week, when I changed it up . It also includes a mild-cussword. I feel the need to disclaim this, which maybe is needless, but I opted to post it because it is used in the context of quoting a game show, with an almost-appropriate response for those who are opposed to swearing. (I do censor sometimes as I choose what things to put on the blog; there are conversations that don't make it. Of course, you also miss out on all the serious conversations we have, which are plentiful and balance out all this ridiculousness. Nadine is as thoughtful and loving as she is witty and sharp.) (discussing this "news" article , a hypothetical future conversation with a hypothetical future child) her: "Mommy, what's shit-faced?" "It's go to your room, that's what it is." me: Ooh, an article on dating in Toronto ! Did you write this one!? her: It was years ago... (curls up in a ball) me: (rea

This is my most prized possession. A tiny New Testament given to my Grampie when he landed in England for training. It traveled through WWII with him. He didn't know Jesus at the time, but he read it, marked it up, studied it. Last time I was home, Grampie told me more about his war experiences than I've ever heard him share. He doesn't like to talk about the war, which I've always understood (in theory). He has a collection of amusing anecdotes from his off-hours, and has shared a few vague generalities, but nothing concrete. The two brief vignettes he shared were enough to shake me. It hit me, as I looked at the watery eyes of now-fragile man, that he has seen atrocities that would make me vomit. He had to kill or be killed. He saw death, more violently & more frequently than anyone else I know. His choice to be silent and to hold these memories within himself is a decision to protect those he loves. Because once you know something, you cannot un-know it. Nearly

...because it is bad for my pride.  Instances where arrogance has slapped me in the face: 1. Someone who knows me as a nanny asks what I studied in university. I say, "English Literature." They say, "Oh, and did you graduate?" I bite back my instinctive and indignant retort, "At the top of my class!" 2.With half an hour until I have to go get the boys for lunch, all the laundry is folded and I get a brief break. I love this treat. As I come downstairs to grab my computer, I catch an unpleasant whiff. Yes. That is precisely what I thought. The dog (usually outside, save for today's rain) has had an unfortunate series of accidents on the carpet. I don't do doggy doo. I really don't do doggy diarrhea. But I am amazed at what I'm capable of when I have no other options. 3. “Wait, you cook their dinners? And you do their laundry? I want a nanny...I have a bunny. We can have a bunny nanny.” “You're not the boss of me! Only

photo by my lovely friend Jackie! So, another update . On Day 3, I killed it. I got sucked in and wrote for hours and made up for all the words I was behind. But on Days 4-7, I wrote a total of maybe 150 words. Yup. It is 8pm now - I was going to start writing at 2 this afternoon to make up for my NaNoWriMo neglect... I didn't come home until 5:30. I have not written a word, and I am about to turn on the TV for Extreme Makeover: Home Edition . I give up. Before you start freaking out, I have two qualifiers: 1. I am not going to stop writing my story, and I am going to continue making an intentional effort to work on it this month. 2. I will continue to write every day this month - on one thing or the other. Part of the reason I've not done any NaNoWriMo is that there are so many other things I want to write, and such a limited time to do it all in. I literally have a list of fifteen blog posts waiting to be written for this blog, plus daily entries on my Dear Stranger blog.

I am the only person I know who listens to The Morning Benders (with the exception of Katie V , who accompanied me to last night's show and is now sold on their greatness). And after this post, all of you are going to check them out, okay? I first heard of TMB through Fuel/Friends music blog , where I find out about most great indie bands. Although, I have to say, I feel pretty proud that I am beginning to find she writes about bands after I have heard of them! Win. Anyway, I first hear Excuses here. Shortly thereafter, I heard Promises through the KEXP Song of the Day Podcast (subscribe on iTunes; you won't regret it). When I realized that both songs were by the same band, I knew I needed to give them more attention. Promises - I like the social commentary this video puts forth. This summer, I happened to walk past The Big Chill and saw a sign saying Free Show With TMB - it was only a few days away, and I was thrilled . Even more thrilling was when Chris Chu (th

This week, a slight diversion from the regular format . Mostly because I was not a diligent scribe throughout the week. But still funny, and still true to Nadine's life with me. Today, I'm minding my business at work, and get this text: her: Eharmony is free all November. I dare you.... :) So I respond: me: I'm in. Also, I am not going to survive today. C is.... not listening well. Sigh. her: Yuck. Three-hour timeout. That would be my call :) me: The threat of losing a playdate is hardly working. And I WANT the playdate to happen. her: There should be boarding school for toddlers. me: I AM the boarding school equivalent. her: Oh. Right. Note to self: hire a nanny when terrible twos/threes arrive. me: I will, I think. At least part-time. Note to self - start saving for a nanny. her: Last night The Boy threatened me with the idea of having ten boys. Um... I would pull out every strand of hair on my head. And then I would become a truck driver and lea

Day 1 of NaNoWriMo : I wrote 2 pages. I was supposed to write 6. Which means that I probably need to rethink my plan. And get some immediate self-discipline. (The idea of instant character growth reminds me of this song, played often on our cassette player. Yes, my childhood was strange.) On the upside, I do like the quality of what I've produced so far.