Cold roses

Life is fucking fantastic.
I got a great job. It's and internship, and it's paid, and after just UNDER a month working there, they're promoting me to full-time. Not permanent, still an intern. But a FULL TIME intern. Yeah, I rock, and soon I will rule.

And, I'm still bumming it at the jewelry store on evenings and weekends, which makes me a tired girl, but also, hopefully, a rich one. (Not gonna happen.)

I love the office. I have office clothes and office shoes, and office people. They could market little plastic dolls of me; 'Corporate Bethany', new version on shelves today!, which is a thought I haven't had since my firends took me skiing last year, and 'Ski Bunny Bethany' made her first appearance. And even if I feel a little like a tigre wearing stripes when I'm there, they seem to like my spotted tigre. Did I mention I was getting promoted?

And all around me, people are UP! The brother just got a raise (way to go, and tres impressive, little brother), Laurie's made the decision to Teacher's College in New Zealand, the heavy that Hugh was dealing with turned out a little more perfect than anyone could have predicted, and during a slew (sp?) of birthdays (Laur, me, Kev in less than a week), I've actually got the chance to SEE MY FRIENDS, in the SAME ROOM, at the SAME TIME.
It really, really sucks that at this point in my life, that line is actually worthy of capital letters.

"What did you get for your birthday?" I hear you ask.
Boots, a little over three months ago. And a LOT of food, and a gift certificate that I haven't spent yet, tyvm. I was terribly pleased, and bloated. Three gourmet dinners in the space of about five days, and you'd swear you'll never eat again (except there's always room for chocolate).

Anyways, I get to hear about my promotion on Monday, get to go shopping with Laurie (hopefully) tomorrow (and it won't be a bust, like the last time), and I'm writing again, and things are coming up roses. Cold roses- it's snowing again.

Checkin in

I got a job (watch me do a jig). No, actually, I celebrated my job the BEST way (note for readers: "BEST" is to be read dripping with sarcasm); I got a job the same day I got a cold. A really nasty cold. Trust me, the best way to prepare for your first career-type impressive office job does not involve cold meds and tons of tissue. Not to say that I didn't go out shopping for new clothes...three times...

So, that's my big news, and what has been taking up my time for the past while. I start tomorrow, which I'm bot excited and nervous about. I hate the fact that I have to wake up at 6am. I really, really resent mornings. But hopefully all will go well- I'll tell you all about it later.

Other than that, nothing huge has happened lately. I got together with Lauren a couple of times this week, which is always nice- she's talking about doing teacher's college again. There was a time that that was my plan, too- now I'm glad I didn't do it. I knew back then that it wasn't for me.

I voted! It's not something I've done for a long time- I always felt really sheltered while I was at University- it was such a bubble of a world- that I didn't feel confident in making that kind of decision. Now I do. Not that it helped much. Anyone know I nice, quiet country I can move to for a few years?

And at some point, I HAVE to get back to Hamilton. I was talking to Shesh the other day (friend from Mac and my old job), and she totally (justifiably) got on my case for not being around. I want to plan one good weekend, where I can go, see Shesh, see Mark, visit the toy store, spend all my money at the bead store (MAN, do I miss that place), and eat at Mai Thai. I've eaten Thai food in countless locations by now, and that place is still, hands down, the best. If you live in Hamilton, GO THERE, it's on John I think. You must have the Cashew Chicken. Bet you're hungry now, hun?

Okay, so this blog was a little more scattered than most, but at least I got some words in. I would like to take a brief opportunity to send out a 'Hey ya' to my aunt, who has made me jealous by discovering the ferret tree (watch the newest Harry Potter movie again, you'll see it).

Now, I have to get to bed- I have a big day tomorrow.

She's back!

I could go on for a line or two about what a bad, bad blogger I've been, but chances are that after a month and a week of pure silence from me, any readers I once had are long gone. Out of sight and out of mind, and I've been hiding for awile now. But see how I persevere? Forge on into the depths of cyberspace bloggerdom? Meh...back to my show.

Yeah, I have neither forgotten nor abandoned my blog, if that's what you're thinking. I just got through a busy (and lazy) period. Hopefully it's over.

So, what's new with me this past month? Well, the job hunt continues, with prey in sight- it just takes time to see if my shots have hit the mark. I've been volunteering (have I told you this?) at an old, illustrious independent press in the city, which is fantastic and I would happily stay there- if I ever got paid. Oh well- it's a great resource and stepping stone for me regardless. Plus, they give me free books, which totally rocks.

And I may have just been offered an internship at another independent press (never thought I was a magnet for the indie connection, but there that is), but more to come on that later; at this point, I haven't got the details myself.

The holidays are wonderful. Little brother is here and staying with us for a few days, which is always fun, and we've done the gift thing (mine were a hit- both what I gave an received). I gave the brother gloves (which he WEARS, tyvm), and Mom got a very cool painting we spotted while shopping, as well as Janis Joplin's 'Pearl' cd. She's such the hippie.

And I got an mp3 player! Yep, my life has sound. Actually, that thought occurred to me the other day. I was walking to work with my headphones in my ears (trying to remember not to sing sloud), and it occured to me that this was like my life's soundtrack, like on tv. Then I felt like people were watching me, and it freaked me out. I put the tunes away then. But I still love them!

And I got some other pretty cool stuff. I hope all you out there got what your hearts desired this year.

And...that's it. Family's good, friends are good (Lauren's leaving for some tropical destination this week, and it's going to be a cold, lonely New Year's without her), pets are good. I promise not to go away for this long again. Believe me. Please!

Book tangent

I know I've been a bad little blogger, and there's no excuse, especially for someone who's not only home, but planted in front of her computer this much. The truth is, life is a lot more full than one would expect without a full-time job.

In the past two weeks, I've been to the ROM with Mom and the brother, to the Royal Horse show, which was incredible, even though I was solo cause Mom had work take over her life, to the symphony, which was so much fun, cause Mom and Laur and Hugh were all there, and I love spending time with all of them, but I hadn't seen Hugh in forever, so that was great, plus I always love listening to live music with Hugh because it's so obvious how wrapped up he gets in it (Hugh's a violinist, and fiddler, and bassist, and pianist, and the list keeps going...).
(Apparently I'm a little stream-of-consciousnessey tonight, I'll try to curb the impulse, but once the comma jones gets it's claws into you, it's hard to shake loose the impulse.)

Laur took me to her boss' art show opening, which I enjoyed immensely. His art made me think of Edward Gorey, but more plastic; very bright, flat planes, with twisted content that was effectively tongue-in-cheek and didn't take itself too seriously-- definitely my cup of tea.

And I've seen Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire twice already, and won't be able to say that after friday (lol)! Honestly, this one is so freaking good...I'm not going to let myself get started, it'll never end, but just, go see it okay? For me? (With me?)

I know some people couldn't imagine (or bear) to see a movie more than once, or more than many times. Mom refuses to buy DVD's because she's so dead set against watching something more than once. She doesn't get how I do it. I have a tendency to read my favourite books (usually the not-so-literary ones) over and over, too. I'm also that way with music; listen to a good song, if it gets you groovin, then there's nothing wrong with listening to it again. And again. Okay, I do have a point here. What I'm driving towards, is that I'm wondering how, or why, or something...about how much comfort I get from these things. Okay, not the music so much. But the movies to a lesser extent, and the books, hugely. I LOVE rereading my old books. The first fantasy book I ever opened was called The Hunter's Moon, by O.R. Melling, which Mom bought for me for Christmas when I was nine or so, back when we still did Christmas, and it was in my stocking. I still have it. And I've read it more times than I can count (now I wish I'd had the foresight, at age nine, to make a mark in the cover each time I read a book). Seriously- I can recite the first chapter. And Dragon Bones, by Patricia Briggs, I bought her book...I think I was in highschool, but I'll sometimes pick that book up, like, three times a year. It's a thin little paperback, takes me two days to read, and I know every twist of plot and most of the best lines, but I keep coming back. I love it. I mean, I like the story and her characters and stuff, but it's not the book, really, it's what I get out of it, I guess, that I keep coming back for. Like I said, it surprises me how much comfort I get from these simple, familiar stories. When I was in class, be it Mac or publishing, and was really stimulated by what I was doing for so many hours every day, then it would never occur to me to pick up one of my old books. When I'm up with brainwork every day, those are the times when my 'book instinct' kicks in. This is another quirk, and I've mentioned it to Mom before. I have moments, where it's like my brain's on autopilot. I would be walking through the student centre at Mac, on my way to class or on my lunch break or something, and without making a conscious decision to do so, I'd deke into the bookstore, look blindly at a shelf and just grab, faze my way through the checkout, never with one clear thought in my head. Sometimes I'd be unpacking my schoolbag hours later when I got home, and would find shiny new paperbacks with receipts tucked in their covers, and have no recollection whatsoever of having bought them. It's not a bad thing, just odd.

But now I've tangented myself into left field.

It's when my life is not so stimulated (and I know I just talked all about going to the symphony and stuff, and yes, that was stimulating), that I feel the urge to crawl into my old familiar stories again. Maybe part of me is worried that periods like this (I wouldn't go so far as to call them ruts, just...moments of calm. In the boring sense.) will continue too long, and I'm, what, afraid of that? Worried? Numbed? Yeah, 'numbed' works (call me Largeman). So, what sense does it make that I would only read the stimulating, challenging, literary, autopilot-purchase books when I'm already stimulated? Shouldn't it be the other way around?

Meh...I think this is a night of overanalysis, and without Lauren here I've talked myself into a corner. Besides, my book calls- and I know exactly what happens next.

Something Special

Know what I saw today? Snowflakes.
In their honour, have a story:

He was born in the south, and not very long ago. Fair-haired and golden-skinned, he was a child who shone in the sunlight. He was bright and full of laughter and energy, and could never be persuaded to sleep until after sunset, though his parents knew if they waited until then, he would be good, and even easy to lull to sleep.
He loved to be outdoors. Rainy days always left him less enthused, quiet and lethargic. On one sunny day he was playing in the backyard, swinging on the jungle gym and rolling around with a stuffed puppy named Bruce. He stopped rolling, sitting on the warm grass, squinting at the bright sky. His mother asked him what he was thinking. “I have a secret,” he told her, but would say no more. She fed him hot dog pieces with ketchup, and he went back to his playing.
That night, while being tucked into bed, the boy whispered to his mother that he wanted to tell her his secret. “What is it?” she asked, and he told her, “The sun shines just for me.” The mother smiled at her son, enjoying his odd comment. She kissed him goodnight, and he fell asleep quickly.
She didn’t forget what her son had told her, though it was only a passing comment that he never repeated.

That winter the family went on a trip to Canada, where the father had a business conference and thought his son would like to see snow for the first time. There was no snow when they arrived, though, just many clouds and cold wind.
It was the last day of their visit and the mother and son were walking along the sidewalk, hand in hand. They passed a young woman walking in the opposite direction, and as she passed by, the boy looked at her, and she smiled back at him.
She was older, but not so old that she’d lost that magic that belongs to the young. She was more quiet than exuberant, she smiled much but seldom laughed, her hair was dark but her eyes were bright. She liked the summer and reveled in the colours of autumn, but she waited all year for the winter. Since she was young, she’d always been able to smell the snow that was ready to fall.
She stopped walking when she saw the boy looking at her. She leant down, level with him, as he approached, his mother watching pensively from behind. “I have a secret,” the boy told her, just as he’d told his mother so many months before.
“I know your secret,” the girl quietly smiled as she said it. His mother’s brows dipped in curious confusion- what was this stranger going to say to her son?
“The sun shines just for you, doesn’t it?” the woman whispered. Before the mother could register her shock, the stranger continued, “Do you know my secret?”
The little boy smiled and looked up at the slatey clouds overhead. “It snows just for you.”
And as the first flakes the boy had ever seen started to float down over the city, the stranger-who was not at all strange to the boy, nor he to her- smiled back, and nodded her head.

Lemony Snicker (the pie is laughing at me)

Today is my brother's birthday, so Happy Birthday Brother. In honour of this momentous day, I was going to blog my mom's recipe and secret tips on how to make his favourite, Lemon Meringue Pie. Alas, this is not to be, cause apparently even with the recipe and secret tips, I cannot make Lemon Meringue Pie.
Lemon Meringue Soup I'm great at.

I refuse to accept defeat. There will be pie...someday.

I am a human firework.

Oh. My. God.
Oh my God.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

I got a call.
It was for an interview.
For me.
At MCGRAW HILL RYERSON PUBLISHING.
To be a SUPERVISING EDITOR.
E-D-I-T-O-R.

Oh my god.

Infinitely Simple

Today I graduated for the last time. It was a good day, one of those days that you expect in advance to be momentous, then get to the moment and think 'this is stupid', and then experience and realize that it's just a day. I don't mean that in a depressed way or anything. It's just that sometimes life gives you these moments when you're totally aware of being alive, and it's not biblical or earth-shattering, and it's not pointless biology or tiny-specs-in-space insignificance, it's just you, and the people around you, experiencing stuff, and making thoughts and decisions and other stuff out of it. And I like that. There is no quest for the meaning of life, but it's not just empty, either. On days like this everything is just infinitely simple.
It was cold and rainy all day. I wore my new blue shoes which got compliments and wet. The ceremony at Humber was uncomplicated, and the comedy class graduating with ours was funny, and I hate pantyhose. Some college guy I never saw before made an awful speech, and they handed me a certificate, and I was happy and had a headache.
The brother was there, and that made me pretty happy, too.
It was good to see my classmates again, and we all planned to get together and keep in touch, then Mom and the bro and I drove around for an hour before heading home and eating pizza and boston cream cake.
Tonight we went to see a Qubecois film called C.R.A.Z.Y., which is worth seeing, if you can deal with subtitles. I liked it, and was proud that I got the title before the end of the film. It had a cute actor and really good music.
Now I'm home and really tired, and I think I'll go to sleep. It really was a good day.

Bethany's Praline Apple Bread

Well, it's autumn, and gorgeous, and apples are in season. I made this for my family last week, and it was a hit, so I'm passing it on. Try it out, trust me.

Bethany’s Apple Praline Bread

1 cup sugar
8 oz carton of sour cream
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

1 1/4 cups chopped, peeled tart apples
1 cup chopped pecans (optional)

1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup brown sugar

Beat together white sugar, sour cream, eggs, and vanilla on low speed, then beat on medium speed for 2 minutes. Stir together the dry ingredients and add sour cream mix, beating on low until combined. Stir in apple and ½ cup pecans.

Turn into greased 9 x 5 x 3 inch loaf pan. Sprinkle with remaining chopped pecans. Press lightly into batter.

Bake at 350 degrees for 55 to 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in centre comes out clean. (Don't skip this step- mine regualrly takes over an hour to cook). If necessary, cover loosely with foil for the last ten minutes to prevent over-browning. Cool in pan on wire rack for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine butter and brown sugar and cook and stir until mixture comes to a boil. Reduce heat and boil gently for 1 minute. Remove bread from pan, drizzle top with brown sugar mixture. Cool completely. Makes 1 loaf.

Some brief notes:
Feel free to add more apples than this calls for (I do).
Walnuts taste just as good as pecans.
Make sure the brown sugar is dissolved in the butter at the end, but don't burn it.
And something I discovered while making this again tonight: Do not touch the spoon you use to stir the boiling butter and sugar mixture. When this burns you, run cold water over said finger. While cold water is running, DO NOT assume spoon is now cool enough and attempt to LICK yummy sugar off it. Ow.

Happy happy thanksgiving

This is a wonderful day.
I went to Yonge and Eglinton to meet a friend, and the TTC was almost empty because of the holiday. It was almost...peaceful.
I met Lisa, and we went to the bookstore, had lunch, talked about publishing and school and things...
We went to see a movie (Serenity), which was very, very good, but don't go see it, because space cowboys takes a certain palate, and most don't have it. But it's a Joss Weedon film, which is awesome, I love his stuff, and it's about time someone gave him the funding to do it! (Or maybe he just saved up all his pennies from Buffy, who knows). Either way, I liked it.
But the best part was the Harry Potter trailer that came on before the flick. I stopped breathing for a minute. Lisa said she almost peed her pants. I swear, I'd pay just to see the trailer again! I can't wait till November 18th.
And seeing an old friend is always good, and it's finally really, really autumn here, which I love, and there's leaf colours and new sweaters and cold snaps in the air which is wonderful.
I took the subway home, and the city is running this "Live with Culture" ad campaign, and I love good ad campaigns, and Eglinton station is covered in these posters of art, and one series is a bunch of dancers by Cylla von Tiedemann which is utterly fantastic (seriously- go see Eglinton station). I was walking along, swingin my purse and looking at these fabulous contemporary dance stills, and this guy passes by me in baggy clothes with his hood up and dirty nails (the type of guy who you usually try not to look at), and as he passed he muttered, "Living is life, and life is worth living." He made me smile.
I skipped most of the way home, and there were happy people, and fathers running with their kids, and I love being in a good mood.
But there were supposed to be people here when I got home. Mom and the brother and the Egg, and (and I don't want to sound selfish or demanding here, but) dinner on the stove! Okay, so it's thanksgiving and we're cheating and having chicken, but still...
Where is everybody?!

Sneaky ads

Minor housekeeping. I'm fed up with these stupid auto-comment ads that are showing up here, so I've turned on word verification for comments. This means that when you want to comment (and please don't let this discourage you- I love comments), a window with letters and numbers (odd-looking ones) will appear, and you'll be asked to type in what you see. Go with it, the function won't bite. But please tell me if this causes you grief (you can email me if you can't comment).
Hopefully this will keep me from pulling more of my hair out!

Happy New Year!

Wow, I don't know why I keep putting off blogging for so long, cause things just keep piling up for me to write about, and I end up with these silly catch-up monster blogs. Well, here's another.

First, some general greetings. Happy New Year all those that apply, I wish you a healthy and productive 5756! (Let's party like it's 5699) (That was very lame)
And Happy Birthday Aunt Mer! Hope England's treating you right.
And one bit of housekeeping. My last blog, focussed on placating my mother, seems to have come out much more squicky than I intended it to. She read it and said 'it brought a tear to my eye'...I had to control the impluse to rush to the computer and delete said blog immediately. If you know me, you know how much I detest being wiggly. I wasn't being wiggly. There was no intended gooiness, I was stating facts. Learn it well, people, there ain't no jello here!

And now, on with the show.
For a girl who's unemployed, I'm deceptively busy. Sunday Mom and the brother and I went for a hike. A really, really long hike. It probably wouldn't have been so much except that no member of my family should be relied upon to:
1)know a direction...ever
2)be able to find a path
3)be willing to follow rules of most kinds.
The result? We spent two hours tromping through cross-country, totally uncharted territory (that led to someone's backyard, given, but I prefer to imagine us as true explorers). Apparently, I'm still the adventurous one in my family (who'da thunk it?). The brother and I scrambled up some rocks, and the entire time he muttered repeatedly in my ear 'Is this a good idea? This is not a good idea.' And when we went off-trail, Mom kept insisting we go back to find the path! Bah!
Anyways, it was gorgeous, even though it was too warm for fall (I love fall, and Mom's going to kick my ass for insisting, again, that it's time for the warm weather to vamoose.) (Yeah, that's right, I said 'vamoose', you wanna make something of it?)

Monday was dinner at my great aunt's house, which was very tasty. It's always good to see family, and I got to talk shop with my uncle (technically cousin) who teaches me all sorts of stuff about arts and craft. I've been carving this block of soapstone he gave me, and he promised to score me some super-fine drill bits so I can make what I'm carving suitable for my beadwork. I can't believe I'm actually reaching a point where having a room in my future house be a 'studio' would amount to more than just an empty desk with a selection of never-used pencils. I'm psyched about those drill bits!
(I KNOW I'm a geek, stop telling me old information.)

And then there's work, where we're training our new manager (yeah, that's right. I'm training my boss. What kind of messed-up system is that?) She's not bad, but there are always a few bugs to work out. I only worked a couple of shifts this week, but sales are good again, and I'm left with more time for job hunting, which goes on...and on...

And I think my social life is making up for lost time, or something. I go to Lauren's tomorrow, it's the holiday over the weekend (enjoy that turkey, folks), Monday I'm meeting an old Mac friend for a movie, tuesday and wednesday I work, thursday I was invited to lunch but that's Yom Kippur, so I'd suck as a luch date (no it's not a 'date'), which makes a week from tomorrow my first available day. Not to mention that a friend from pub. class has been trying to arrange a night for us to get together for dinner for, like, three weeks (which is reaching a state of rediculousness, this oughtn't be so hard). This is very odd for me.

Oh! And Mom and Aunt Laura (who's another not-my-aunt-Aunt, but who is also not a cousin) and I went out for Japanese and I totally ate sushi! It had no fish in it, but it was...well, not 'great', but edible, and certainly not bad. I figure if someone I need to impress wants to take me out for sushi ever, it's just easiest for me to become temporarily vegan. Chickens grow on trees, right?

Oh, and Mom and I ate Swiss Chard tonight. Kale was better.

And now it's late and I can't think of anything else, so I'll say goodnight folks.
Goodnight, floks.

Teasing my mother

Okay, so I don't get how or why people buy jewelry. Last week, the store loved me. I swear, I was so on, I could have sold a thumb ring to a duck. This week (and I haven't changed anything about my selling style), I can't give this stuff away if it were sugar-coated. It's as if, last week, the collective unconsciousness was in a spending mood, and this week, the world is being frugal. I guess I'm just baffled by the trends.
Our manager, Melissa, was sick all last week, so I all but took over the store, working every day. It wasn't too hard to do, which I'm hoping lends credence to my idea of owning a bookstore someday. I could totally do that.

Nothing new to report on the job hunt. I didn't get much done last week cause I was stuck in the mall so much, but yesterday was good, productive, and I have a plan for today too. It's just hard to do, draining, and it's times like this when socialist communism starts to sounds appealing.

My socail life is starting to have a little 'life' again, though. Last weekend I got together with Laur, Kev, Mark, and Kristen. Kristen is Lauren's sister, and it was the first time I'd seen her and Mark together. He seemed really happy. Kev was sick but it was good to see him too- it sucks that we're all so spread out. It's been much too long since Laurie and I have spent any decent time together, and I think my wit and personality are suffering from the lack.
The five of us went to Playdium, which is a big dark room filled with video games (the kind you put quarters in, except they use cards). I suck at driving games, but I'm pretty good at shooting things. No real surprise!
This weekend I went with Laur and Kev to see Kev's place in Shelburne for the first time. Shelburne is...quiet. It was relaxing, but I get why Kevin spends so much time gaming. (Sorry, Laur.)
Also, Laur and I have been invited to dinner with David (a friend of mine from publishing class) and his girlfriend- it'll be fun if we can ever find a day when we're all free! I'm looking forward to it despite avoiding David's email because of the very very overdue article I still owe him for his website. I'm still working on it, I swear!
And I've (strangely) been invited to the Mac Humanities formal, which is on a boat in Toronto this year. It's probably too much money right now, plus there's my lack of a good accessory for my arm (which usually doesn't bother me, but it would help with my excuse for being there). Not to mention the fact that I no longer have a vaid connection to either McMaster or Humanities, and I'm left with very few good reasons to go. It would be nice to see Shesh and Lunchbox and Kat and all the rest again, though. But I really don't want to be one of those much-older-than-everybody losers who still hang around despite having graduated years before a la Dazed and Confused.

Then there's Rosh Hashonna next week, where it'll be good to see family, and I can wear my new skirt that hasn't gotten much play since I bought it. And I'll bake- I've got the best recipe for apple bread- I'll blog it later. I'd bake today (it's a good day for it) except Mom made chocolate banana bread the other day, and I have to wait until that's gone. (Which I kind of hope is soon.) (Sorry, Mom.)

I shouldn't have said that. I recently got reamed out by her for...well, I think the gist of her opinion is that I selectively blog things about her that, when read together, make her seem foolish. Which I totally take issue with. It was she who didn't want me to write about her life, so I keep my comments about my mother light, and it's not my fault that she's really funny sometimes. I don't blog untruths. And I don't really get how being over dramatic about kale vilifies my mother.
But, in an effort at peace offering, here;
My mother is clever. She's taught me more than any other person, ever. She's much cooler than a lot of other moms out there, probably most. She's one of my best friends, as well as being my Mom. I wish to hell I could have known her in the sixties and seventies, the wildchild. She's got more balls than most, and even though she's hilarious sometimes, she's never really foolish, and almost never foppish. (Mom, if you wanted to never have been foppish, than the rendition of 'We are family' should never have been 'jived' in the car. No, you will never live that down.)
But no matter what, she's still funny. Okay, so she doesn't even get some of her own hilarity (re: the coversation in Chapters), Oops, I didn't tell you about that, here it is:

I found her in the cookbook section, flipping through vegetarian recipies, looking for a mushroom stew recipe she 'remembered reading once'. No, she didn't know which book it was in. No, searching on the internet would not be easier, quicker, and more smart, stop teasing your mother.
Mom: (reading out recipe titles) "Autumn vegetable stew, served in a pumpkin"
B: (dubious) In a pumpkin?
Mom: Yeah, vegetarians do that. They like to serve things in other things, cause they think that makes them taste better.

I lost it at that. She doesn't get what was funny.

Oh, and I would like to make it clear that neither my mother nor I are in any way against vegetarians, or against 'putting stuff in other stuff'. Really. I had an uncle who was a vegetarian, for a while. Long story.

Anyways, I guess all I really wanted to cover here was that, she's not just a clown running around in my life, if that is the way that she has been (inadvertantly) portrayed in my writings. She's cool. Really.

Maybe now she won't be afraid to share the address with Jerry. ;)

Help meeeeeeee!

The horror. The horror.
Mom went shopping...for dinner...and brought back...kale.
*shudder*
And that's not the end of it.
She's threatened...she's promised...after this, we're moving on to Swiss chard.
She's evil, man. Pure evil.

Meet Burning House

Look, I got pictures! And I'd like to introduce you to my group from the final project of my Humber class: Tracey, Fiona, Morgen, Allen, Chris and I.

A boring week

Well, I've been out of school just over a week, and things are still going okay. My resume has been overhauled (or more accurately, demolished and re-built from scratch, stronger and better- I have the technology), I've actually applied for something (kind of a feat for me. For some reason, I always hit a speedbump at this point), and even though I have neither interview or job on the horizon yet, I HAVE spent money I shouldn't be spending on outfits for them! Yeah, this past week has been a bit of a shopping spree (two skirts- and I barely ever wear skirts- some kick-ass shoes, a suit jacket, a poncho-ey thing that I had to fight my mom for, a new purse...this list goes on).
Friday was a party at Laur's new place- to warm it up- which was a fair success. I love Laurie's friends, they're hilarious, and I wish I could have stayed longer, but circumstances conspired against me. On the other hand, my driving record is getter better in leaps and bounds (I had the car that night, and my newest vendetta is a war against my mother's opinion on my driving skills. She thinks I suck, which I do not. My record is CLEAN, baby.) So yeah, I left the party early, but then I went driving downtown Toronto on a friday night, and took the HIGHWAY home. Who can't drive now, hun?
Other than that, life is boring. My room is clean, my sales at the jewelry store rock, and I have to make a foray soon back to the Ham, cause my bead supply has holes in it. (Heh, heh, I just realized what a very, very lame joke that was).
There wasn't much to say in here, but I'm making an effort to blog more. I hope your lives are more interresting, but only in the good way.

Goodbye Humber, how I will miss thee...

Wow, so it's been, like, half a month since I last blogged and there's a lot to catch up on. I know that I haven't been the most reliable updater this summer, but that should soon change, seeing as how today is my second-last day of school. This news is kind of mixed good and bad, since I'll be blogging more thanks to free time (yay), but have free time thanks to no job waiting for me (boo). I shouldn't say that- there is a job waiting for me...I just have to find it. The prospect of doing so, however, is...terrifying is the word.
I keep waffling between this surreal sense of over confidence ("I just finished the best course out there, I have so many contacts, I did so well, blah blah my greatness blah...") and nail-biting paralysis fear ("Oh god it's so hard to find something and my resume isn't done and I suck at interviews and why would they ever even consider me for this they won't even look at me they'll see my cover letter and probably laugh, I suck suck suck...")
Thankfully these seem to balance each other out, so far, so I have not yet talked myself into a pile o' goo. The goo does loom, however. It's a thin line I walk.
I'm also aware that I'm one of about twenty people in my class feeling this way. Wow, how we all fit in one room together, I don't know.
But that's what's happening now, and you all have about a month in the Life of Bethany to catch up on. Ready? Go.

The final month of my program was us creating our own (fake) companies. By the end of the month, we were exhausted, the companies were way more real in our minds than we ever anticipated them becoming, and we were proud. My group, whom I love with all my heart, named our company Burning House, and we publish non fiction, socially relevant, controversial titles (both illustrated and not).
The final presentation, which included a panel of very distinguished judges bent on chossing a winner, picked...us! I'm still in shock.

Following that, there was about a year and a day of sleeping, one helluva party (monday), lots of picture-taking and even a cake with a story.
(You want the cake story? Fine. There was a long, drawn-out discussion over things to have written upon our cake. We didn't want it to say 'goodbye', and felt that 'good luck' was just as bad. 'Revolutionize the Industry' was suggested, but I think there was resistance about taking orders from baked goods, plus, we'd need a bigger cake for that. In the end, no decision had been made, as the only thing we could agree on was that we'd all be happy to eat it. With that in mind, my classmates got to the store and asked to have the cake read 'Yeah, cake!' Simple enough, right? Apparently, no. The lady writing down their order wrote 'Yay cake', and in a room full of now-editors, this was not good. But hey, it's only icing, right? When they picked up said cake, and opened the box, we ended up with a blue cake that said 'Yay'. Not even an exclamation point. It was the sardonic, final-day-of-publishing class, blue cake. It was tasty.)

...And that was the end of my class (yeah, I took two days to write this post). I got home, changed, and went to help Lauren move (goodbye ghetto, hello...well, I think it feels English there, mostly because of the roundabout att he end of her street, but I think Laur thinks I'm nuts). Then we drove for ever and ever looking for food. We found it, in the end, but it was a near miss.

Anyways, I have to go now- work to be done. Oh wait...no there isn't. But my room's a friggin mess.

My brain hurts

Hello all,
I'm at school right now, and ought to be working, though I'm finding that it's basically a useless attempt right now. Ironic, since the project I'm working on is titled "Useless Design", heh heh.
This month is completely devoted to one big project, where we divide into groups, create a company, a list of books, and all the financials, and then pitch it all to a panel at the end of the month.
I love my group. I really like our books. I'm having fun. But I'm also so freaking tired. Being creative all day is like cross-country skiing or something.
But now I gotta go- there's a grindstone waiting for my nose.

The Best Bad Movies

Sometimes it’s the worst flicks that seem to speak to you. Not in those powerful, undeniable messages that you get from the very good films, not in the too-loud voices you get from the too-good films, and certainly not in the screeches that blast most commonly out of cinema doors. No, sometimes it’s the ones that are just bad- the teen flick that uses shampoo as a metaphor, the chick flick that was written entirely in clichés- that seem to get you. You can’t understand why you like them. Why is it that you seem to find it okay to watch them over and over again? You know that they aren’t good. You know that they are badly written, filled with heavy-handed symbolism, and that parts are so abashedly cheesy they make you cringe. But you always go back for more. The next day when it’s a rerun. The next month, when you spy it at the video store. The next year, when your best friend asks ‘what do you want to do tonight?’, and you know that, once again, it’s time. There must be something valid in them. Buried under the scrap, there must be something worthwile that pulls you back. The idea. The image. The concept. I like to think that, whatever it is, it's there, and instead of it being the driving force it was supposed to be, the message is hidden. It's been buried, often under a lot of crap, but it's there, and you go back to it over again. There are reasons to love those bad movies. It makes them valid. It makes us valid for watching them.
Do you know what I’m talking about, or am I totally out in left field? I’ll admit, I’m writing this in the afterglow of one such great bad movie.
Do you have one (or a few?) What are they?

Pottermania

I love Pottermania.
In the US, more than 6.9 million copies were sold in the first 24 hours of the book's release. In Canada, somewhere in the vicinity of 700,000. At one release party in Britain, over 800 copies were sold in about 40 minutes- that's 20 copies a minute, and three copies every second.
And who's reading? Click the link!