The Incredible Rock-Climbing Adventures of HT

So, it's hot today. Really hot. And so humid. I feel too hot to move or eat or do anything except sleep and complain. So, in an effort to entertain myself and others, I will tell the story of yesterday's trip to Three Pools with Zenon, Ross, Darrell and Sean.

Yesterday was also pretty freaking hot and humid, so a trip to this place with cold water sounded like a good idea. The first hint of trouble came after we arrived and realized that we didn't have sunscreen. I wasn't too worried, since I don't burn very easily, but it was a concern for others. The next (and more major) hurdle came when Zenon, Darrell and I stopped following Ross and Sean, and decided to find our own way down to the pools. Our unique way involved about forty-five minutes or more of climbing up and down cliffs in the forest and up and down sharp and scary looking rocks by the water. When we finally got to a pool and found Sean (Ross having at this point gone back up to look for us), we realized that our pool was stagnant and we'd be better off at one of the ones higher up. So, that meant more climbing over scary jagged rocks and leaping across small streams and such.

I have to say that I've never been rock-climbing before, and my scholar's body is not used to exertions like this. But, I actually impressed myself. I'm not saying that I looked like the most agile person there, because I try not to lie, but I didn't make a total ass of myself either. And, perhaps more importantly, didn't sustain any injuries beyond a few bruises and scratches. Some of the climbs were quite scary where the rocks were slippery and smooth and I realized that there was no way for anyone to catch me if I fell, but I didn't let myself think about that too much and plunged ahead. The whole excursion seemed designed to prey on my weaknesses and insecurities, but since everything was successful, I feel actually very proud of myself.

When we had climbed and slid and grappled enough to find a pool that we liked, we were quite ready to go swimming. I don't think I've ever sweat that much in my life. The water, however, was freezing. It took me a while to work my way in, but after a bit it was very pleasant - kind of like a hot tub in January reversed. I found the only not-jagged rock in the pool (it was rounded and fit my buttocks comfortably) and parked myself on it for a rest.

After we had enough of the cold water, we climbed up onto some nearby rocks to dry off in the sun. Three Pools is a sublimely beautiful place. From where I was sitting on my rock, I had the waterfall cascading down the rocks high to my left, forest all around me, the sun overhead, and more rocky cliffs and pools to my right. It was rugged and fiercely beautiful. I'm going to share something with you now that I wouldn't normally post on the internet. As I sat there, my body exhausted yet happy with its workout and climbing accomplishments, soaking up the sun and the scenery (I wish I'd had a camera) and the banter around me, I felt a few moments of perfect happiness. For those few minutes, everything outside of the present faded away, and my life consisted only of sitting on a rock in the sun by the waterfall amongst the trees and birds surrounded by good people, and I suddenly realized that it would all be OK.

In contrast to the trip down, the trip back to the cars was rather anticlimactic. It only took about six minutes or something, and the only really difficult bit of climbing was at the beginning where we had to climb up a steep bit of rock. Actually, except for the steepness, it wasn't too hard at all - lots of footholds and such, and nothing was slippery. It was actually one of the easier climbs of the day. After I arrived home, I had myself a small snack and a peaceful nap to rest my wearied body as I relived the highlights of the trip. Today I am very sore, my scholar's body protesting at the bit of living it had to do yesterday. However, I'm very glad I went, and I'm even glad that the trip was crazy and difficult and scary and different. Nothing else would have been as great.

Nighttime meanderings

I just got back from a late-night walk around town. I haven't gotten much exercise lately, so I thought a stroll would do me good. And it did. I've decided that I haven't seen enough of Wolfville at night. It is full of magic. Everything was clean from the rain we had earlier, and the plants were still wet and sparkling with diamond raindrops. I started off originally to find the house that I saw before that I want to live in someday. Surprisingly, considering my flawed sense of direction, I found it. It looks just as lovely in the dark, and charmingly mysterious. I think I can find it again so now I can show people. Things look so much different in the dark, although it's a full moon or almost-full moon tonight, so there was actually quite a bit of light. I just can't get over the amount of magic in this town. At one point I passed by a stump, and I swore that if I waited long enough the gnome who lives there would poke his head out and climb back on top where he sits watching traffic when he can't sleep. I decided not to wait because I didn't want to interrupt his evening.

Anyway. Onto more concrete things. CC informed me today that there is a movie coming out that I have to see. I have decided that I agree with his analysis. It is called March of the Penguins. I think it's pretty self-explanatory why this is my new must-see movie. Morgan Freeman is narrating. There are penguins. 'Nuff said there.

It was fun to talk to CC today. It had been a while. We go for months without talking, but whenever we do happen upon each other on MSN, it's always hilarious. He tickles my funny bone like no one else. He also shares my penguin obsession, so that's good too. I have funny stories about getting to know CC in undergrad (we only talked once/year until 4th year, and that still amuses me) but I don't feel like telling them right now. Those will be for another day.

Other neat things: I found a new webcomic that I enjoy. It is called Stu Reddington and has that quirky type of humour that I love. Here is one of my favourite ones. I will be adding a link to the sidebar someday when I feel ambitious. Also, Jason sent me a link to a site that is quirky, hilarious and socially conscious. It is Mail Order Chickens. Finally, Nad has finally updated his blog, so I've added him to the sidebar. Nad is my sleepover buddy (in a non-sexual way) from undergrad. He used to let me crash at his place after nights of drinking at Phil's, for which I will always be grateful. So many happy sleepover memories of girly-type gossip sessions until 7am... *Sigh* the memories. Anyway, here is a link if you're too lazy to try the sidebar.

That's all I've got for now. I need to grab something to eat and try to finish a chapter tonight. I've decided that getting up earlier, while it's been fun, has been bad for my productivity. Anyway. I highly recommend everyone do some nighttime meanderings of their own.

Fun times and nightmares

I had a very good weekend this week. It was even somewhat productive thesis-wise, which is interesting because usually fun and thesis don't go together. Friday night Zenon came by and we finally had our Coupling marathon (the TV show, you dirty punners) that I've been excited about for weeks. Coupling is great on its own, but it's so much more fun to watch it with someone giggling along right beside you. On Saturday a very sleepy me had tea with Ashley and Andrea which was very pleasant, even if I was only partly awake. I had a delicious vanilla chai tea, and I got to see pictures of Andrea's doll house about which I've heard so much, and I also got to (finally) meet her cat Trinity, who is cute. After tea, a momentous thing happened, a thing that should be marked on the calendar. We went to the used bookstore and I didn't buy anything! I even discovered that they have a whole shelf devoted to books about the '60s. I very nearly bought a book about drug use in high schools that had the same alarmist tone as the movie Reefer Madness, but I put it back and decided to see if I still wanted it in a week.

Speaking of drug use in high schools, Mom told me tonight that Perth County, where I live when I'm at home in Ontario, made the Toronto Star as a place that's crawling with crystal meth labs - Stratford in particular. Apparently there's a seedy underbelly well-hidden by the culture offered by the theatre. We had a good laugh about that. It just seems so ludicrous. If you have visited my home, you will know why I laugh.

On Saturday night, I made a few pleasant thesis-related surprise discoveries. The first was that I'm enjoying thinking like an English major again. I even wondered if my decision to not do my PhD was a mistake. I even have a topic picked out for a PhD dissertation - it's more cultural studies than strictly English, which makes it even cooler. I've been thinking that it would be interesting to look at Harlequin and related romance novels, and to see how they are culturally determined, and how they help to support certain ideologies and certain political stances. I think that it might be a tough sell for the academy, because come on, these novels don't have a great reputation, and for good reason. However, they are some of the most widely read books from some of the most prolific publishers. They're their own cultural phenomenon, and they seem to work as ideology tools in many ways. I won't start an in-depth discussion here, but I will totally talk about it if anyone asks. I think that it's a mistake to underestimate their cultural importance. I would take a cultural studies approach to these books, almost sociological, and look at how they have evolved in the past 50 plus years. Anyway, I digress. The point there was that academia is starting to excite me again, which is good. The other pleasant discovery I made is that my thesis chapter on Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 is almost entirely usable, so I have 16 usable pages out of the 20 I'm aiming for. I hadn't looked at it since Reading Week, so I had no idea what it was about. It was a pleasant surprise and a relief to see that it's actually on my new topic and not my old one.

Today was a fun day as well, though so far not very productive thesis-wise, though I did get my chores done. Zenon dropped by again and we watched some more Coupling episodes and played Settlers of Catan (I taught him how to play it on Friday night). And, because it's Zenon, there was also some guitar playing. All in all, a very fun afternoon/evening.

I talked to Anna on the phone tonight, and we got to catch up. That was super-fun. Anna and I sometimes don't talk for months at a time, but we always go straight into girl-talk-giggly-fun mode when we chat. She told me about her trip to Europe, which I hadn't yet heard about and about her new-ish (though not really new) boyfriend who I haven't met. She also caught me up on random other gossip. Anna's so awesome. My Mom also called me tonight. She and I are getting really excited about her visit. She is arriving a week from this Tuesday. We are making plans and deciding what we want to do. I have to pack a bin of stuff for her to take back to Ontario with her so that I have less to move in August. Mom told me news about my niece, who can now write her numbers up to 10 without help, and past 20 with help. Anie's not even 4 yet (though almost)!

I need to write about the nightmares. I have had at least one bad dream every night for the past couple of weeks. It must be thesis stress, because I rarely have bad dreams normally. I already mentioned how many of them are House-inspired (I've decided that no matter how enjoyable that show is, it's really a bad show for me to watch. I'm too much prone to hypochondria (sp?) anyway, and now that I see that every disease leads to a seizure, and many lead to throwing up, I've become paranoid. I pulled a muscle in my neck this weekend, and instead of thinking a normal thought like, "I wonder how I did that", I began thinking, "Oh my God! I have meningitis!" I don't really, but it was a fear), but now some of them are starting to be thesis-inspired too, and featuring throwing up. Last night I had a dream that started as a nightmare about my thesis, and ended with throwing up, making it the quintessential nightmare. For those of you who don't know, throwing up is my #1 irrational uncontrollable panic-inducing fear. Nightmares involving throwing up are the worst for me (though I have to say, I had one recently where my Mom died in a car bomb which was also super-traumatic). There's no reason that you would need to know what my nightmares are about, but my point was just that I've been having a huge number of them lately. I'm going to have to start doing yoga and doing more meditating, I think, to help me relax.

Anyway, this is a long enough post about random events in my life. I should probably find something to eat (nachoes not being a super-nutritious supper, no matter how yummy and tempting they are) and begin work on my thesis, again. The thesis is really starting to come together, now, though, so I'm not even dreading working on it as much as I might. I have an outline, so I have a path through the wild forest of my ideas, which is good. Anyway, off I go.

I found my soulmate (and it's not a cookie)

It's a cat. Or rather, he is. Yesterday, Andrea, Ashley and I went to the Library Pub to celebrate Bloomsday (it's a James Joyce thing) and we were talking about Ashley's cats. Ashley mentioned that her cat Zoe doesn't like strange men or children. I perked up. I already knew that Zoe and I had a lot in common, but as the conversation progressed, I realized that if I were to be a male cat, I'd be Zoe. Zoe is aloof and picky about his companions. He doesn't like to be touched except by certain people at certain times (always on his own terms). Zoe even has problems eating when he's unhappy so Ashley has to lock him alone in a room during mealtimes. I also have problems eating when I'm unhappy, and prefer to eat alone. The "punishment" of being locked in a room until he finishes his dinner reminds me of when I was little and I had trouble finishing my supper and I had to sit alone at the counter until I finished everything and drank all my milk, sometimes all the way until bedtime. To top it all off, Zoe sucks his toes. When I was little I sucked my thumb. Zoe is also the younger cat in the house, just as I'm the younger sibling in my family. As well, Zoe is a picky eater. Anyone who's shared a meal with me ever knows that I am too. I like Zoe, even if he isn't as approachable as Bug. It's a real compliment when Zoe deigns to pay attention to you, and Zoe seems to like me. Zoe is also cute with his crinkly plastic bag fetish. This fetish is one of the ways in which we differ, as I don't lay on plastic bags when I get bored.

Anyway, not much else to report. Zenon's visiting this weekend, for sure this time, not like last time when he didn't actually visit. I applied for a neat job at school that I hope I get. I've been having a lot of thoughts about things lately (yesterday especially was a good thinking day), though, unfortunately, those things haven't included my thesis very much. Oh well. My Mom is visting in a week and half and I'm getting really excited. Oh, I've been having nightmares lately, which isn't good. Many of them have been House-based and involve really obscure and deadly diseases. I think it's a sign of stress. Besides that I'm doing well, though. And I only have one more House episode to watch and then I'm done with the series until next season, which should help.

Editor's Note: After reading this entry, Ashley told me that Zoe doesn't go into the room as he eats as a punishment, but as special treatment. Ashley says that Zoe also likes to have possessions, and now he has his own room and he has claimed the bicycle back there. I also like having special treatment, my own room and my own possessions. My sister also mentioned that I used to suck my toes as a child, which I wasn't going to mention, but in the interest of accuracy, I decided that I would.

Goats, lesbians and ice cream

Zenon is making me do an update, even though I have nothing to say. Well, when I say he's "making me", I really just mean that he told me to do an update and I said yes. Anyway. I've decided to write about goats. I've decided that mini-goats would make great pets. Mini-goats, are of course, goats who never grow to full size. If they can be housetrained and wear shoes (or booties!) to prevent floor scuffing, they would be such great entertainment and good for cuddling. I made this decision while watching baby goats frolic outside the ice cream place with Ian. Goats are surprising charming. I think that I will create 2 imaginary intelligent mini-goat friends named Peter and Herbert with whom to frolic and play and cuddle.

The lesbians in the title of this post are from a new project that I started last night with Gillian. It's from a joke that got out of control, and seemed hilarious last night. At the moment it's still in its first stages, so I'm not going to post a link yet. I'm still deciding if it's funny, entertaining, or highly offensive to various groups in society. I'll let you know when it's ready to go.

The ice cream I already kind of mentioned. Ian and I went for ice cream tonight since I got most of my chapter 2 draft done. First we got groceries and made dinner together (my famous chili), then went for ice cream. I am full of belly-popping satiety right now, and a little sleepy. I think that I'll soon take the The Book of Daniel work train into the bedroom so that I can curl up with tea while I work.

By the way, my love of The Book of Daniel is approaching even higher levels. If I could marry a book, it would be this one. I can see myself having a lifelong relationship with it, and never getting tired of waking up to it in the morning. If you haven't read it, you should if you want to be my friend. Hee hee, just kidding. Well, not really.

Another fun test

I always regret posting sad posts, because a fleeting mood is then textualized and displayed where all can see, so people visit my blog days later and assume that I'm still in the same mood as when I posted. To keep that from happening even more than it has already, I did another random quiz. This one was about finding "The True Me", and also involved random answers to random questions about boxes and rivers and such. Here are the results:

The True You

You want your girlfriend or boyfriend to do more for you.

With respect to money, you spend as little as possible.

You think good luck depends on maintaining good relationships with others.

The hidden side of your personality tends to be satisfied to care for things with a minimal amount of effort.

You tend to think about others' feelings a lot, perhaps because you are so eager to be liked.

When it comes to finding a romantic partner, you base your search on information from your friends.

Who's the True You?

Some of these are strangely true. Guess which ones!

Melancholy Musings

My new rule is no sad thoughts before breakfast, because things often seem the worst when you're just getting up and feeling disoriented and dehydrated and hungry. Things often start to perk up when your blood sugar does. Well, I've had my breakfast now and I'm still feeling sad. I've realized recently that I won't be able to come home for a visit next month as I'd been planning. This means missing Diana's wedding and seeing all the girls there, and missing Anie's birthday (you only turn 4 once!) and just in general not getting to see anyone that I was looking forward to visiting. It also means being stuck in Wolfville for longer than I'd been anticipating. I have such a love-hate relationship with this town. Anyway, that's another story.

I didn't realize how upset I was about this (because the possibility has been bubbling in the back of my mind for a while) until dinner last night with Andrea when the subject came up. I'm afraid I got quite gloomy and depressing. I've been trying to tell myself about the upsides of this arrangement - at least my Mom is coming to visit soon, which I'm really looking forward to, and this will prevent me from trying to visit Andrew which I would otherwise have done, and in so doing I would probably have started the breakup grieving process all over again. This is probably also a better choice for my thesis, and a better choice if I get the job I'm applying for at school (cross your fingers!). It's also a better choice financially, which is the reason that I did this. Any extra money I have has to go towards food, rent, and then moving back to Ontario (which will be a costly business, I'm afraid).

*Sigh* I'm feeling quite sad right now. I am torn between spending my afternoon in bed feeling sorry for myself and going out for a walk to get my mind off of it. I know it's clear which one I should do, but I still haven't decided which one I will do.

Editor's Note: I ended up going for the walk because there were chainsaws or weedwhackers or some sort of loud machinery being used outside of my window. I wandered Wolfville for about 45 minutes (it would have been longer except that 20 mins in I realized that I hadn't had lunch) and found the house that I want to own someday, as well as a runner-up house. I feel a lot better now - a lot sweatier, but less melancholy. I've also decided that 99 Luft Balloons is quite an inappropriate song to have come on when you're walking through a graveyard. I stifled the urge to dance.

My punching bag: not just a conversation piece anymore

Yesterday as I was struggling up the hill with some groceries through the thick warm air (Nova Scotia being an impossibly humid province), Ian drove up and offered me a ride home. Of course I accepted, especially when he dropped hints about ice cream. Sure enough, after the groceries were put away, we went for ice cream. I had my regular mint chocolate chip, of course (it's occurred to me that I really am predictable in a steady stable sort of way) and we wandered around the little park area there as we ate. Once the bugs became too annoying, we headed back into town. Ian came up for a pleasant chat. He broke my mechanical automatic advance pencil and I laughed at him, telling him that he was the first person to visit and break something, but he was eventually able to fix it. Like many visitors to my living room, he was also intrigued by my sad looking punching bag, or as I liked to call it, big red phallic conversation piece. Perhaps still feeling bad about the pencil incident, Ian decided to fix the punching bag. This ended up not being as big of a chore as I was anticipating, especially with 2 people to do it. So, I can now add actual purposeful arm movements to my dance attacks (hee hee hee... dance attacks... that sounds so '80s and dorky) instead of the random flailing that I've been doing so far. I sent Ian off with many thanks and strict instructions that I am to be included in future ice cream excursions.

Tonight I'm meeting Andrea for dinner at the Library Pub, which I'm excited about, and tomorrow hopefully Zenon is coming for a visit. He and I have big Scrubs-related plans.

There I am

I went for a long walk this evening. I started off just going to the video store to return some movies, but there was something in the air and I decided to go for a stroll. It was a cloudy evening tonight, not particularly lovely, but it was a nice temperature. My stroll made me realize some things:

a) Life is full of possibilities.
b) The life I've been thrusting myself towards is maybe not the life I want.
c) I'm lonely, deeply lonely, but not in a bad way. I'm lonely in a sappy sort of way. I was walking around and thinking about how hard it is to communicate with other people because words always get in the way, and because we seem to learn early not to show our real selves to anyone, even ourselves. I was lonely because I realized that I don't have anyone with whom I can share the secrets of my soul (sorry, I know that's a song lyric). I was feeling so many emotions as I walked around, having so many interesting thoughts, and there was no one to tell. I was also thinking how much better it would be to be telepathic or empathic, because so many things get lost in the translation of the telling of them, like this one for instance.
d) I want to live in a house surrounded by large old trees. I want to live somewhere with history.
e) I have memories of things that I don't remember actually experiencing, and it's a little scary.

I've decided to take more walks in the future, because it somehow seems to link me to a certain "true" place in myself where I'm closer to who I really am than at any other time.

Self-esteem restored

I had a really good social day yesterday. First of all, it was sunny and 27 degrees Celsius, so I decided to don some summer garb and go for a walk for exercise and possible tan-progression. I left my place around 4:30pm, planning to wander for about 30-45mins. I got to the top of the hill and was debating whether to turn left or right when I decided to drop by Ashley's place to see if she was home and if she wanted to join me in a study-break walk. It ended up she didn't, but she invited me in for a chat. The next time I looked at the clock, it was 9pm. "Oh my God!" I exclaimed upon seeing this, "I'm supposed to be at Janice's right now and I haven't even made cookies yet!"

So, I hustled home as quickly as could, not only because I was late but because the temperature had dropped during my 4 hours at Ashley's, and it was now much to cold to be wandering the streets in a tank top and shorts. When I got home, I found that I had to do dishes to have pots too cook supper in and a baking pan to bake cookies on. Luckily, the cookies I had planned were refrigerator cookies, so I just had to slice and bake them. Since the chair incident, I have been feeling a little chubby, so I decided that a night of drinks and debauchery was a good time to pull out the aforementioned sexy jeans. To my delight, they fit with a bit of room (though not much) to spare. Things were starting to look up.

I got to Janice's at about 10:15 or something. My plan had been to arrive for 9, so all things considered, I wasn't that late. There was a small but pleasant gathering at Janice's, and everyone was well on their well to intoxication by the time I got there. I quickly mixed up my gin and lemonade and did a good job playing catch up. When I started to find everything hilarious we went over to the 'Vil for some fun dancing. I really need to go dancing more often. I had a good time. The self-esteem increased even more when I got hit on on the dancefloor. I actually find being hit on troublesome and annoying, but it's still good for the ego. I think that Chantal and I got ourselves out of it pretty well, though.

The thing about Wolfville is that everything closes so much earlier than you'd expect. Last night the 'Vil shut down at 1am and we were out on the street. We stood out there and chatted with people for quite a while. My self-esteem went even higher when a different guy asked me for my phone number. I know not to take offers too seriously when they come at 2am after a night of drunken debauchery, but it's still nice to be found attractive. Although, as I'm typing this I think it's making me sound like a bit of a tart. Oh well. I wasn't being one.

Post 'Vil we headed back to Janice's where Ian ordered us pizza and garlic strips. We hung out there for a while chatting and eating. I was getting very sleepy by this point, so I wasn't sorry when it was time to go home. Ian was nice enough to give both Chantal and me a ride home, and I made it there for 3:30am. I actually couldn't sleep when I went to bed, though, which was strange. I dozed lightly off and on all morning until I finally got out of bed around 2pm this afternoon. Today I feel a little icky, not in a hangover way so much as a bad night of sleep sort of way. Oh well. It was still a very good time yesterday and I'm happy things went the way they did.

How to communicate with me

Ashley's boyfriend Derek did a fun workshop at his job that talked about different communication styles. The program was called DISC, which each letter standing for a different communication style. I haven't done the quiz, but from reading the descriptions, I'm an S. I will post what that means here.

S. – Steady stable:

They are good listeners, team players, possessive, steady, predictable, understanding and friendly.
They are reliable and dependable. Compliant toward authority. Patient and sympathetic. Good at reconciling conflict.
They resist change, take a long time to adjust to change, hold grudges, are sensitive to criticism, and have trouble establishing priorities.
Their fear is loss of security.
They are motivated by recognition for loyalty and dependability and safety and security.
To communicate with: create favourable, personal and agreeable environment. Express genuine interest in them. Answer how questions. Be patient. Present ideas or departures from current practices in a non-threatening manner. Define goals.
Do not be pushy, overly aggressive or demanding or too confrontational.
Ss can be outwardly agreeable but inwardly unyielding.

Ashley highlighted this last sentence for me, probably because she thought it was particularly apt, which it is. I'm posting this as a guidline, in case I ever start communicating with people again (although I'm back to really liking this solitary life now). The fear of change thing is true - it takes me a while to get used to new ideas, but eventually I like them. I'm not good with things being sprung on me last minute. I need to ruminate. I hate being called predictable, but I suppose it's true. I comfort myself with saying that another word for predictable is dependable. The part about pushy people is true too - aggressiveness makes me withdraw and put up barriers. I get really really uncomfortable.

I think that thinking about the different ways that people communicate is interesting. It's such a common sense idea - that people communicate differently - but it's one that I don't think gets talked about enough.

10 most harmful books (good for a laugh!)

Here is a list of the 10 most harmful books of the 19th and 20th centuries, as chosen by a panel of Conservatives. The list is hilarious, but even moreso are the descriptions and justifications for villifying these books. Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique is on there, for example, because she compares being a housewife to being stuck in a "comfortable concentration camp", thus denying many women the joys of the lot they were born to fulfill (I'm paraphrasing here - check out the link for the actual text). It's kind of scary because these people are just so out of touch with reality. It's still funny, though.