.....and 9:30 in NewfoundLand

It seems my blogging enthusiasm was cut to the quick what with the planning and execution of a recent trip to Newfoundland.

At the moment it is 7:19 am and I am sitting at the business centre in the Fairmont Vancouver Airport. I've been awake long enough to enjoy a leisurely breakfast while watching the sun rise over the majestic sight of the Air Canada jet fleet resting quietly on the tarmac - each giant machine breathing expectantly, waiting for the heroic call to courier a large number of unidentified human forms to London, Paris, Rome, or Dildo, Newfoundland. Okay - so I am tired and this is becoming more than an eccentricly worded entry; it is fast descending toward bizarre and eye-brow raising monologue....

So I will stop for the moment and return to this when I can actually see my fingers on the keyboard because my eyelids will actually no longer be draped over them...

I have many small but captivating stories to tell about the newest province of Canada that ironically is the keeper of its oldest immigrant history....more to come, gentle readers; more to come - just give me that extra half hour to adjust to the daylight would you....

I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK

I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
I WILL NOT BLOG AT WORK
okay.....maybe I will.....

D&D vs. the easy-bake oven: you'd think the choice was obvious....

The other day I realized something very significant about myself. I was telling a story to some folks about my childhood days and realized that I may not actually be a thirty-something woman after all. Wow - this could explain every possible issue I've ever had in my life! Physically, I am a thirty-something woman. Literally and figuratively too - if that is possible. Everyone I know in the universe would swear up and down on a road map of the Cassier highway that I am....BUT.....but.....

Here's the story I was telling: When I was about nine or ten, my dad was a dungeonmaster. Oh yah - BIG into the role playing. One day in the mid-80's he brought home the 'Dungeonmaster's guide', and we didn't see him for three weeks after that. He was in a dark damp corner of the basement; chuckling evilly to himself as he plotted out world after world, drew map after map of D&D hell for the whole family to enjoy.

I played with him and my uncles every chance I got. I was a wizard. I never died. hmmmm.....slight bit of nepotism there possibly....I stayed up late into the night helping him to paint his die-cut lead figurines. There were ogres, cyclops, werewolves, elves, muscle-bound hero warriors...my favorite was the dragon he let me paint red. It had green eyes and silver wings. I can vividly recall - almost feel with the tips of my fingers - the detailing of the scales running down the neck and along the body to the long snaking tail....

As I was telling this story, it led me to thinking....I did a lot of things with my dad - again when I was about nine, I went with him almost every day as he was building our new house. I helped him to nail down the plywood boards that would support whatever carpet or hideous linoleum was destined to be the decor of the day on the main floor. I held the ladder while he climbed from those plywood boards down into the giant dirt hole that would eventually be our basement. I spent hours waiting excitedly just to tie a yellow rope around a hammer or a screwdriver and lower it down to him as soon as he should call for it.

Once the house was built, we spent our time watching movies in the new basement. I think I was scarred for life - destined never to be 'girlie' again, if I ever was - watching the like of 'Amazon Women on the Moon', 'Barbarella', 'Johnny Dangerously', 'Kentucky Fried Movie', and my hands-down fave 'Rock and Roll High School' (hey - there was no such thing as 'parental guidance' or good judgement in the 80's, okay?) with him and my brother long into the night. (geez - where was my mother during all this?)

Anyway, this was all flashing through my mind as I proceeded with my story to the 'folks' mentioned earlier. I then volunteered that I think I am a closet-goth - I like punk music (ummmm, the Ramones, hello...) and goth-style clothing, but you'd never know it from looking at me - AND, finally, the topper; that I actually still frequent and love movies such as 'Accepted' and 'Beerfest'.

So now the 'folks' are watching me intently. My eyebrows furrow deeply and a 'thinking frown' is spreading across my face. Brain working.....working.....working....attempting to process what all of this information, finally spewed out of my memory in one continuous stream of consciousness, could possibly be pointing to. I mean okay - I had barbies and an easy-bake oven, and I made a mean strawberry pie with that .035watt bulb, but.....BUT.....

So okay I am definitely still a thirty-something woman, and loving every perk that comes with it; but somewhere along the way I somehow managed to adopt the heart and soul of a 15-year old boy.....yep, that's my conclusion. At the very heart of it all, I AM a teenage boy. Now that I know that dark truth, I can get on with my life and not feel guilty about my strange compulsion to play 'Guitar Hero' with my friend's husband into the wee hours of the night rather than talk randomly with my female friends about babies and wall colors.

Well, I guess if that's the price I pay for being able to cherish those memories of my dad; I'd do it all again in a nanosecond. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe my Intellivision may be calling my name....anyone for a game of e-D&D?

From whence it came....

I must confess that for the most part I am technologically illiterate (I have no cellphone, and usually tend to emit a high-pitched girlie-scream if someone offers me theirs to make a call; AND - now this is a biggie - I don't yet have the internet in my home - GASP!)- but I really like the idea of being able to blurt out all the strange and random thoughts that occur in my brain on a daily (hourly?) basis, and subjecting complete strangers to the ordinariness of my life. Welcome to it.....

On to the reason for this post. For the past couple of years I have been attempting to become more athletic and hence doing ridiculous things like running long-distance races in wilderness areas, entering bike relays without training, or cross-country skiing with people who are so lithe and fit that they could very possibly be made out of baling twine (I have yet to confirm this hypothesis however).

Anywho - though I have always managed to finish each event, it was usually not without exceptional heartbreak and humiliation; grunting a clenched-teeth greeting at people who had finished the event days ago and had since come back to picnic along the race course, shouting 'looking good!' to me as I once again brought in 'the red lantern'.

There have been so many of these occurrences that a friend recently suggested I write a book about my experiences called - wait for it now....yes....yes....I think you know what I'm going to say....'Tales from the Red Lantern'.

Since that's never going to happen, I decided I'd share my stories here - though I admit you will have to sift through a large number of random and pointless thoughts in order to find them.....Enjoy my tales - and be so very grateful you are wise enough to learn from your mistakes....