Thursday, November 30, 2006

Bad Blood.

No, Lynda, I'm not referring to my favourite episode of the X-Files (5.12), but instead my attempt to fulfil my duties of the Church of Catherine last night.

If you recall, the first Pillar of the Church of Catherine is to donate blood. "If you are able to give blood (physically and emotionally), you must do so as often as you can, to the best of your ability."

I went in last night and when the RN looked up my records, she told me that it was my tenth donation and quickly produced a "10 donations" pin. I told her I hadn't donated yet, so she should wait until I'm on my way out. She said no, that's silly, and since I'd never been turned away before and always filled my 2 units, there'd be no reason to suspect I wouldn't donate.

Then she pricked my finger to test my hemoglobin levels, and said the drop didn't sink in the solution, but it might be because my hands were cold from the night air. She drew a little bit more and put it in a different, and I assume, more sophisticated tester.

My red blood cell count? 119. A donor's has to be 125... I dunno... parts per million? I don't know what it stands for, but I fell below the standard.

I'm not used to this.

Now, I've quit eating red meat, but I never ate that much to begin with. Maybe my bean intake has dropped. Well, I did start a yoga class recently, so I thought that would be humaine. I don't think I'm under any undue stress.

Why is my iron low?

And now I have to wait another 56 days to donate! And I want my tenth donation! I want that double digit!

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Posies And Cat Hair.

What did I do all morning? It appeals to many facets of my geekiness. My boss and I are sorting through images for a new book that Elizabeth Epperly is writing about LM Montgomery’s scrapbooks. We were finding that the digital files and the transparencies were inconsistently numbered, so guess what we got to do? We got out the originals! Kevin does most of the handling of the books, and the paper is so brittle that sometimes little pieces fall off (and that’s why we handle it as little as possible), but I got to look through, and in some cases, touch, Lucy Maud Montgomery’s scrapbooks!

I’m not really a Montgomery fan, as some of you might remember reading about when I was writing my Master’s thesis, but her scrapbooks are really cool. There are a lot of calling cards, something we don’t really use anymore, and a ton of newspaper clippings. Those clippings are a lot of lame poetry, but there are also news items which are neat, and some photos, like one that was labeled “Dalhousie College, Halifax, the doors of which are wide open to women.” There are playbills and cards with turn-of-the-century fashion, tons of pressed flowers, and, by far the creepiest, wads of cat hair tied in ribbon. Jibbly jibbly.

Well, Kevin was nice enough to take some time so we could look over the scrapbooks contents. It’s mostly ephemera to me, but this was a minister’s wife’s life one hundred years ago – pictures of cherubs and clematis, swatches and ribbons. Kevin made fun of a clipping of a Japanese maple leaf that looked like marijuana, and that made me think of how funny Montgomery’s stuff would be if she was rockin’ the Cheech and Chong. Maybe I’d like it more.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Working Is For Chumps.

This nine-to-five thing is nuts! How does anyone get anything done outside of work? And it feels especially bad in the winter, where the day seems over at five because the sun's gone. Not gone. Hiding.

That being said, I love working here at the Gallery. The last couple of weeks I've been working on the Gallery's Emergency Preparedness Procedures, which is pretty cool. I'm learning a lot about the restoration of damaged art, and tomorrow I go to a collections management seminar, which could be really dry, or super interesting. Or a combination of both.


One good thing is having a little more disposible income. So basically, what I'm saying is: anyone expecting Christmas gifts from me can forget it because I'm wearing your gifts on my feet. I received two new pairs of flats today from JCrew (on sale times two, of course), and I'm going to have a lot of fun wearing them. I hope you like peace on earth and goodwill to men, because that's all you're getting from me!

I do want to include a link to the photos taken at September's Strawbale Contruction workshop I attended. Kara Stonehouse (har, har, I know... stone house...) has set up a Flickr page, so enjoy. I'm a giant tall one with the glowing red sweater. Try to pick me out.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Jim Wins Again.

I have just signed out from working at the theatre, and tonight it was Jim Cuddy, of Blue Rodeo fame, doing stuff from his newest solo album.

Damn. It was really good, and it reminded me of how much I love Blue Rodeo, too. I recommend anyone take in a Jim Cuddy show, if at all possible. I've seen Blue Rodeo a couple of times here at the Confed, and it's always amazing. I love watching Canadian icons doing us proud.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Death By Chocolate.

Ugh. I just got a hot chocolate at the Starbucks in the Confederation Centre. I'd only ever gotten tea there before, but I was feeling wacky, so I went for ho cho.

It comes with stuff on it. Did you know this? There was stuff on my hot chocolate. There was a mound of white, and then there were lines of brown. This turned out to be whipped cream and chocolate syrup.

I don't really like whipped cream, but I thought I'd try it, and it was ok, but it was cold, and, of course, the hot chocolate wasn't. The chocolate syrup was superfluous and too sweet. It's just there for aesthetics, right? Pass.

I poured half of it out. The hot chocolate was fine at first, but it got way too sweet, and then I could see little pools of oil floating on the top, presumably from the whipped cream (but it wouldn't shock me if a pat of butter was part of the Starbucks hot chocolate recipe).

Friday, November 10, 2006

A Day In The Life.

I spent all yesterday painting walls an olive drab. We're trying to finish an exhibition of war art.

Today I painted again, and learned how to dry mount. It isn't as fun as it sounds, I guarantee.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Tim vs. Jim.

I finished watching the second season of the American series of The Office on Sunday, after many, many hours sat watching many, many episodes, deleted scenes and commentaries in any moment I could find.

There were twenty-two episodes in this season. The first season was a mid-season replacement, so there were only six.

I was a big fan of the UK series, so I dutifully watched the American pilot. After that, I didn’t watch for a year. It was terrible, derivative dreck, and felt like Steve Carell et al. were doing an impression of Ricky Gervais et al., and it just didn’t work.

Later, I learned that it was really just that first episode that they copied off the UK version, and after that they began original storylines, although there was still the salesman/receptionist relationship, the sycophantic Assistant (to the) Regional Manager, and the all-business boss, amongst others.

Now, once again, after watching through to the end of the second American season, I am all floaty and romantic because of the Pam and Jim storyline, just as I was at the end of the UK Christmas Special because of the Dawn and Tim storyline.


Now I just can’t decide which I like better; Tim or Jim. John Krasinski is well taller than Martin Freeman, but Martin Freeman has that accent. BUT Martin Freeman was in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which made me very angry because of its intense shittiness, and I still hold a grudge. John Krasinski was in Jarhead and Kinsey, which were good movies and didn’t suck. Like Hitchhiker’s Guide did. Martin was a more subtle Tim, I think, and he used the camera a lot less. John (as Jim) looks to the camera as an ally and punchline more frequently.

Well, now I’m hooked on the Yankee version. I usually prefer to buy a DVD and watch all the episodes, all in a row, sitting in my pajamas, so this “waiting a week between each episode” thing is totally a chump’s game.

Yes, I have decided that Jim is winning out over Tim. John is also my age, and Martin is not so much, making my preoccupation and crush less creepy, although I know some people might throw the whole Daniel Radcliffe argument back in my face when I write that.

Friday, November 03, 2006

The Royal Flush.

We got a dual-flush toilet!

You can choose if you want to put through 3l of water or 6l!

It looks pretty sleek, and I'm so pleased we finally got one - I've been bugging Mum and Dad for some time. We needed a new toilet, so we might as well have gotten a more sustainable one.

Anna and Nico have one in France. Wow! Two dual-flush toilet encounters in one month!

I also forgot to mention that November 1st is my three-year bloggiversary. Yay me!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Hallowe'en Fallout.

How many mini-chocolate bars are in a full-sized chocolate bar? About twenty or twenty-five? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Jiggedy-Jog.

So, I’m back on the Island, and glad to be home. I’m back at work now at the Art Gallery, which strangely makes me feel I have to really get active in the job-hunting sphere again.

In all, my trip did exactly what I needed. I had some alone time, and a break from un- or underemployment, and a change of scenery. I feel quite refreshed and ready to steam ahead. Man, it’s almost like all the stuff I wrote in my Master’s Thesis was right! Vacation is spiritually rejuvenating!

I’ve been home since Sunday, and I’ve been battling a nasty bout of jetlag since. I also got a cold in my last week of my trip, so I think that is staying my progress, to paraphrase a Heritage Minute.

"Spamalot" Post-Mortem.


On Saturday I went to see “Spamalot.” It was a great show, but my seats were terrible, so the viewing enjoyment was limited. The seats were almost vertical, so if (read: when) the person (read: boy) in front of me leaned forward, most of the stage was obscured and it forced me to become a rocking, bobbing, distracted and pissed-off spectator. I was in the third balcony of the theatre, so Tenzing and I kinda knew what we were in for.

Spamalot” really was, as they said, a musical lovingly ripped off the Monty Python and the Holy Grail movie. It was different enough, though, to make it worthwhile. It was also an astute satire of musicals, and it included songs like “The Song That Goes Like This” and “The Diva’s Lament (Whatever Happened To My Part).”

Tim Curry played King Arthur, and was very good. I wish his part had more singing, though, because I especially enjoyed it when he sang. I was pretty excited because he was in Annie, for goodness sake!

Instead of just Malteasers and ice cream being sold as a concession, they were selling SPAM sandwiches on white bread, wrapped in wax paper. The guy next to me bought one, and, begrudgingly, it looked pretty good.

Finally, on the ads for “Spamalot” that were plastered on the double-Decker busses circulating London, it claimed that “Spamalot” “set musical theatre back a thousand years.” They were right.