Okay so in my last post I mentioned someone named Jess. I've decided to talk about Jess. But not just the Jess I talked about in the last post; other Jess' too. Like for instance, Jess Squirrel. She's a character in Brian Jacques' Redwall series. Remember those? About mice and stoats and foxes and rats and badgers fighting and eating delicious food? Hell yeah, I'm rereading the entire series. All the books are pretty similar (once you've read one, you've read 'em all), but I enjoy them enough to actually go through the chronological order of the series.
Back to Jess Squirrel. What the hell kind of name is that? And yes, of course - she's a squirrel. But that's her last name. Come on. "Jess Squirrel has her archers ready!". How foolish!
Any other Jess I know? Of course, there's Jess from my Katimavik days, I knew her pretty well 'cause I lived with her.
I have a cousin named Jessica.
And that's all I've got to say about that.
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© º2019
17/01/17
28/06/16
Mad Stories
I'm headed to a monthly event in just a few minutes. It's called Mad Stories. It's not very well known so usually only a handful of people show up. I go because I've gotten to know some of the people there and I enjoy both listening and sharing stories related to mad experiences.
What is a mad experience? I think a mad experience is any experience that cannot easily be explained by routine. It is an experience generally out of the ordinary, different from typical modern things like job interviews and picnics in the park. Mind you, mad experiences do occur in both these situations. They can occur anywhere, at any time.
Mad experiences are also sometimes intertwined with psychiatry. There's certainly a lot of madness in this field, with things like electroshock treatment and the (forced) tranquilizing of people with lived mental health experiences commonplace all over North America nowadays.
Mad stories is a place where people come together to talk about experiences that they find odd or particular. It's generally quite lighthearted and laughter abounds. Tea is always provided, so in a way, it's kind of like Alice's mad tea experience in Wonderland.
Cheerio!
What is a mad experience? I think a mad experience is any experience that cannot easily be explained by routine. It is an experience generally out of the ordinary, different from typical modern things like job interviews and picnics in the park. Mind you, mad experiences do occur in both these situations. They can occur anywhere, at any time.
Mad experiences are also sometimes intertwined with psychiatry. There's certainly a lot of madness in this field, with things like electroshock treatment and the (forced) tranquilizing of people with lived mental health experiences commonplace all over North America nowadays.
Mad stories is a place where people come together to talk about experiences that they find odd or particular. It's generally quite lighthearted and laughter abounds. Tea is always provided, so in a way, it's kind of like Alice's mad tea experience in Wonderland.
21/06/16
The world in the rear-view mirror doesn't matter
Credit to Lights for today's blog title.
I don't even drive, but I thought it was interesting to have a car analogy in the title. Mostly, it's just a lyric that's been playing in my head for the past little while. I guess the idea is to be moving on and focused on what lies ahead instead of what's behind.
The longest day of the summer has already gone by. Now, gradually, the sun will retreat little by little, leaving me feeling as if I have a little less time to do things during the day.
I'm feeling empty-headed. I think I'm going to go for a bike ride to a new library.
I don't even drive, but I thought it was interesting to have a car analogy in the title. Mostly, it's just a lyric that's been playing in my head for the past little while. I guess the idea is to be moving on and focused on what lies ahead instead of what's behind.
The longest day of the summer has already gone by. Now, gradually, the sun will retreat little by little, leaving me feeling as if I have a little less time to do things during the day.
I'm feeling empty-headed. I think I'm going to go for a bike ride to a new library.
17/06/16
7 long years
I've hit the 7 year mark. 7 years exactly since I completed the grandest adventure of my life: Katimavik. I remember it was today because my train was scheduled to leave on the 21st, 4 days after the program officially ended. Those 4 days were filled with mixed emotions: sadness at leaving a previous life and moving onto a new one; freedom of being able to choose what I wanted to do next.
After the initial tearfest at the airport, I hung out with K who also decided to cash in her plane ticket and who was waiting for a friend to arrive in Vancouver with the plan to hitchhike all the way back out east. In a way, it made it easier for me to transition out of the 9 month group living experience because there was still someone around. I lingered in the house for as long as I could, and then went out to Surrey for the last couple days to live with my wonderful billet family, since the lease on the house was over.
There wasn't much to do in a Surrey, so I ended up using what was left on my TransLink pass to head back into Vancouver and get one last look at the sprawling metropolis. I probably spent some time at café Deux Soleils, but as I was keen on wandering, I probably did that more. And then the train was ready, so I left.
I think I'm writing this down to remember. Not that I would ever forget, but it's easy to have all these memories fade to the distant past and lose some of their magic.
I met some alumni of the program last week. That definitely spurred some emotions, especially because two of them had lived in the very same Vancouver house barely a month after I had left. These quasi-strangers worked the same garden, slept in the same rooms, and cooked in the same kitchen as I did for 3 months. That's pretty remarkable, considering I met up with them at a College street café, thousands of kilometres away from Vancouver.
There are some people in the group that I haven't seen since the 17th of June, 2009. That kind of makes me sad. I think one day I'll see them again. I don't know when.
After the initial tearfest at the airport, I hung out with K who also decided to cash in her plane ticket and who was waiting for a friend to arrive in Vancouver with the plan to hitchhike all the way back out east. In a way, it made it easier for me to transition out of the 9 month group living experience because there was still someone around. I lingered in the house for as long as I could, and then went out to Surrey for the last couple days to live with my wonderful billet family, since the lease on the house was over.
There wasn't much to do in a Surrey, so I ended up using what was left on my TransLink pass to head back into Vancouver and get one last look at the sprawling metropolis. I probably spent some time at café Deux Soleils, but as I was keen on wandering, I probably did that more. And then the train was ready, so I left.
I think I'm writing this down to remember. Not that I would ever forget, but it's easy to have all these memories fade to the distant past and lose some of their magic.
I met some alumni of the program last week. That definitely spurred some emotions, especially because two of them had lived in the very same Vancouver house barely a month after I had left. These quasi-strangers worked the same garden, slept in the same rooms, and cooked in the same kitchen as I did for 3 months. That's pretty remarkable, considering I met up with them at a College street café, thousands of kilometres away from Vancouver.
There are some people in the group that I haven't seen since the 17th of June, 2009. That kind of makes me sad. I think one day I'll see them again. I don't know when.
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| I took this picture on the 21st; I used a dolly cart to ferry my bags around Vancouver |
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