I keep getting hit in the head by lines from different songs I'm listening to. They stick in my head, I use them for titles of blog entries, or for memory joggers in my day planner. People are going to think I'm seriously demented. If my stuff were to be examined by CSI, they'd never figure out who offed me...too much cross contamination of evidence.

Work is gonzo. Interesting developments that keep me intrigued, listening at the door for more information. Suddenly, I'm more interested in what's going on than I am in what I'll be making for dinner. And we all know food consumes me. Most days. It looks like I could be bouncing between two communities for work related issues, which will a.) increase the amount of air miles I collect and b.) change up scenery for my brain. So it might not be such a bad thing.

My parka arrived the other day. It's called the Resolute parka. It's by Canada Goose and a maroon colour. It's actually quite nice. And warm. I never thought they made coats so warm. I can tell that I will be toasty all winter, even in the -50 weather that's expected in December/January.

an old photo from a couple of years ago.

I got a few things in the mail yesterday. Mail day for me is always fun. I like getting stuff, even if it's pretty useless. A Chapters card came in, the Hawksley Workman album I won on Facebook, and a book by an author I thought I would try out (so far, it's pretty darn good).

Hawksley's new album is called Los Manlicious. I'm only on the 5th song and it's awesome. Reminiscent of (last night) We Were the Delicious Wolves. So snarky, nutty, cabaret-ish. It's really great. I can tell this will be an album I will listen to a lot. Very loud. It sound kind of European, if that makes any sense. It's really great to get excited about music again.

I did take a couple of new pictures lately. The problem is getting them uploaded to Flickr since I don't have an internet connection at home (well, I do if I take the modem home with me) and most nights I just leave it at work since it's easier. But I'll probably start taking it home more often just to stay caught up on the photo front.

I'm looking forward to my Christmas vacation. I've bought the ticket, planned where I will be and I can't wait for a month and a half to go by so I can be in Ontario and near my nutty family. I also can't wait to see my new nephew who is currently being hot-housed in my sister's belly (at least for another month or so) until he's ready to join us.

Anyhow, time to get back to work. God knows I'll be kept busy over the next little while.

Labels: Arctic, Arctic Circle, family, flying, Gish, hawksley, hawksley workman, holidays, job, music, music opinion, nephews, Nunavut, photographs, vacation, weather, winter, work

I got off the plane last night. It was raining. I breathed in the Northern Ontario air automatically. And immediately recognised the scent of wet spruce trees. It smelled so delicious. I knew I was back on my own sort of soil.

The flight was so smooth, I wish I could fly that way all the time. I was the only passenger and every time I got off the plane (to refuel) I felt like a rockstar or something. It was fun. The flight was so smooth, those pilots really knew what they were doing. I thought because it was a smaller plane that it would be rocky but nope. Awesome.

Checked into a cheap motel and went next door for a Gin & Tonic. It was so good. Then grabbed something to eat and came back to the room to eat and watch The Breakfast Club.

Now I'm back on Manitoulin and I can't get over how green everything is. It's like I forgot how green, green can be. I took polaroids during the drive home and of Marble and Buckley when I arrived. They seemed happy enough to see me, but it's really Beebs that has stuck to me like glue. She's so soft and pretty, and I missed her so much.

I'll sleep early again tonight and wait for my parents to get home tomorrow, then it will really feel like I came home. The house now is empty except for the pets and it feels a little like a motel. Maybe I'm travelling too much. Maybe the smell of burning rubber from the wheels of planes has corrupted my mind. Sometimes, I think I smell like burning rubber. Or that my breath smells like the inside of every plane. My couch, the window seat I covet.

But for now, any angst aside, I'm glad to be here. Maybe some photos tomorrow.

Everything is in bloom. Maybe me, too.

Labels: holidays, music, pets, travelling

my feet don't touch the ground when you come around...
I'm exhausted. This week has been pretty brutal with travel and training. We're working right through the weekend which means no time off until next Saturday. I shouldn't whine, but I like to sleep in (if I can) so after awhile, it all catches up with me and sends me over the little deep end.

I wanted to post this. I posted it when I first got the tattoo years ago but I just wanted everyone to see it...again. Like it was the first time.


I've been spending a lot of time with the local social workers which is kind of fun. Every day, the covering social worker cooks dinner and we sit around and gab until I see how late it's getting and rush back to the hotel. I use the term 'hotel' loosely and will post photos at some point. They book the rooms by the bed, so if anyone else checks in, I'll have to share a room. That's when I'll be begging for the couch at the social worker's house. Oh yeth.

I bought two perfect red pears. I set them on the dresser so they can ripen a bit more. They look delectable from where I am sitting, typing this out for you, and I want to taste one but it will be too hard against my teeth and unready to eat. Unready. I like to make up words, sometimes.

I'm getting excited about my trip to London in June. The shopping. The fact that I will be renting a car and will feel the warm June night air on my skin. I'll take nostalgic trips to Port Stanley and sit in the sand as the water waves over itself. I'm looking forward to it. I like the Arctic but I still have fond memories of other places.

The Devil's in the Details - Matthew Good.'

Labels: Apostle, Arctic Circle, girls, Gish, holidays, job, Matthew Good, music, travelling

Truth be told, I'm so sick of whining about being sick or sad, or 'not feeling so hot', that I could die. It's not as though those are the only parts of my life. Maybe in the moment, they certainly feel that way. I should update this blog somewhere other than bed, really.

This weekend, I guess I'll be the 'sad girl on the ferry' when I go home for Thanksgiving. You know what I mean; you notice a lone figure standing on the deck of the ferry, smoking cigarettes. She has windswept hair and sad eyes. Maybe her little dog is pulling on his leash to go elsewhere....but that's where she stands, looking out onto the painfully blue water. Maybe she's in deep thought about her lost love, or the fact she can't cook. Or perhaps, she is mourning the fact she never bought those trendy Gucci sunglasses at the Half-off store and now has to face the others on the boat with bare eyes. And you know just by her luggage that she must feel somewhat cosmopolitan for appearing at her family home in time for the holidays. Able and eager to leave after dinner. Slick sunglasses or not.

Yep. I'll play that part in public just because maybe I have nothing else to do. The only thing that sucks about it is they do not allow smoking on deck anymore. Must be all the cigarette butts that are floating in Lake Huron. Or maybe the seagulls finally got together and made a stink about the tainted air they have to deal with as they fly in tandem with the boat as it crosses from Tobermory to Manitoulin Island.

We call it a boat, not a ferry. Unsophisticated. But I don't think the locals care. Or the tourists, for that matter.

Nuts man, we're all just nuts. Excuse me, I must go and listen to Bruce Springsteen now.

Labels: acting, Bruce Springsteen, family, Ferry, Gish, holidays, music, New York, smoking