September 12, 2014
Out of all the souvenirs I've bought, this blanket was the most useful of all. I bought a giant wooden Buddha head in Cambodia: "What are you going to do with that?" My dad asked during the time I was purchasing the head, "I don't know, hang it in my bathroom?" I replied. It was $5 and I felt bad because the lady looked way too old to be working in 35C heat! The buddha head was in my bathroom for a good year until I decided that it was a bit creepy having this thing stare at me when I am taking a bath. Now it is paper weight in my living room.
Then there was the communism hat I wore so proudly in Cuba while chugging shots of rum and taking to whom we thought were our local friends but turned out to be prostitutes. Now the hat would probably only be good for Halloween, or if someone decides to throw a communism party...
So this blanket from Mexico wins of it being useful by a long shot. I still remember the day Danielle and I were on a mission of haggling and pestering guys selling these carpets to death, going from booth to booth until I got the color and the price I wanted. It was so worth it when I saw how much Urban Outfitters were selling it for.
September 11, 2014
The other day I completely filled my SD card so I decided to clean out the photos. I realized that I have so many miscellaneous Ottawa bound photos taken over the last few months I have been neglecting.
I have this syndrome where I am photographically fascinated by everywhere other than where I live. 15 years living in Victoria, BC and not one picture of the inner harbor or the ocean until I permanently moved out east. And now when I visit Victoria I'm clicking my camera away at the lake near my parents' house where I used to have nightmares on being murdered and having the killer tie a rock to my body and drop me into the lake, my neighbor's peacock I never found attractive, and trees that look no different than any other trees: "but they look different than the trees in Ottawa, a-ha!" I'd say to myself.
To break the cycle here is a collage of some photos in Ottawa. Dispite the horrible winter chills, summer here is quite beautiful. Give me a chilled bottle of Vitamin Water and let me aimlessly wonder around Gatineau Park or Petrie Island for a day anytime.
September 8, 2014
Angry dog versus happy dog. All Janga needs to be happy are going for walks and eating human food. It's amazing how little dogs need to be happy.
The other day I was checking my bank account and wow- I didn't know I worked so hard and paid so much tuition to be this poor. "Well, you just got a second house. Of course you're house poor" my friend Joe said. So this is what it feels like to be an adult...
But at least I feel happy.
I feel happy because I am healthy and have all my fingers and toes.
I feel happy because I feel well.
I feel happy because I am dry, I am warm and I am clean.
I feel happy because I feel that I have a purpose and a goal.
I feel happy because I am comfortable with myself.
I feel happy because I am fed.
I feel happy because I feel loved.
We're here now, healthy and content because we are blessed. We get to drink sangria while the run rises and warms our hair. We get to cry because we are sad for whatever reason we do not need to explain. Contrary to some other women in this world, we are legally allowed to drive, and express our sexuality while openly tell the guy to F off if our senses tingle. We get to stay up late doing seemingly unproductive and unimportant things. We get to sing, draw, drink way too much coffee and talk nonsense whenever we feel like it.
There is so much to be happy about.
September 4, 2014
"I want a picture in front of the big apple and tag myself as I went to the big apple [not New York], har har har!"
"... You know how many people have probably already done that?"
Beside the 401 highway, on a small hill, there is a big apple. I've always only used it as a landmark to alert myself that Toronto is just an hour away, but this time we decided to actually take the highway exit and check it out. All it took to convince the driver was offering to buy him an apple pie.
The Big Apple is located in the community of Colborne. There is absolutely nothing in this area other than trees and excess land, perhaps the occasional farm house and some tumble of hay. We drove into The Big Apple and I pictured a small wooden stand with a few apple pies. Inside the cabin, I pictured a dusty out-of-date diner consisting a few truckers nonchalantly drinking their coffee served by a 50 year old female who was the prom queen back in her golden years but now she smokes all day and hates life.
But it was quite the opposite. As soon as we pulled into The Big Apple, we saw mini putt and ping pong tables with a small petting zoo of chickens and lamas. Inside the restaurant, there was a whole kitchen dedicated to making apple pies. The front parking lot was full. Families and kids were everywhere. Tourists were buying all sorts of apple related products, from apple fritters to apple candies to apple dumplings, like they have never encountered an apple in their entire life. The place was so filled with people that I felt peoplephobic, the same feeling I get when going to Costco on weekends. "Where did all these people come from?!" I asked myself, as this 1.5 feet tall kid ran right into my stomach, "That's it. I'm out of here".
So we bought our apple pies and left, with the pleasant feeling of when you think of something to be ghetto but turns out to be far from it.