Barefoot Ponderings

Any of you who read celebrity gossip might recognize this girl. 

I should definitely not be blogging right now, because I am really swamped with homework this weekend. There are a few completely unrelated questions swirling around in my head though, and blogging them might just help to get them out of there so I can focus on what I’m supposed to be thinking about.

1) Can lip balm go rotten? I have a little metal container of Bert’s Bees lip balm that I bought in about grade 11. I went to use some the other day and it tasted really sour and weird.

2) What’s in mothballs to make them smell like that? I have been smelling mothballs in all kinds of places lately. The bus smells like mothballs sometimes, as does one part of the basement of my building, as does one of the bathrooms at school. The best explanation I have right now is that someone living in my basement is very paranoid about moths, and that they occasionally take my same bus and pee in my same bathroom. I don’t think that is true though.

3) With more serious implications than the above, do you think that real social democracy is even possible in Canada? I mean, I’ve probably spent the last ten years believing in it and voting for it and writing the occasional letter espousing its value. I’ve spent the last year since being home from Iceland dorkily obsessing over Scandinavian social policy and wavering back and forth between being completely jealous of it and wondering about what all its negative implications must be. I’m taking a really interesting policy class this semester and some of the readings have made me start to wonder if its all a big pipe dream for a place like Canada. With Scandinavian countries taking up comparatively tiny amounts of space, having comparatively uniform populations, having had governments and constitutions for a lot longer than Canada, and just being less diverse economically, culturally, religiously, etc on a whole, it seems like socialism just has a better shot at working. I mean, is it too diverse here for it to work? A far greater number of ethnic, cultural, religious, special interest, economic, business and linguistic groups want legislation, funds, recognition and rights. And I wish they all had them, you know, but given the number of groups, and the fact that we’ve had a conservative mindset for so long now, could it ever happen? Don’t think I’m bailing, I’m just scratching my head a little.

4) And moving on, is it wrong to steal dirt? If there is a whole lot of dirt in front of the legislature because they just worked up the flower beds, and a broke university student walks by it every day and needs a little for repotting her plants, would it be stealing to take a little scoop of it? It’s just a little bit, and its been paid for by the public and they put too much of a mound on there anyway. But its not intended to be taken, and if everyone took some, it would be gone. It’s also just ironic that I want to steal someone else’s dirt next to a state of Louis Riel, if you know what I mean. Ya, that’s stealing, isn’t it?…

5) Finally, I know very little about ADD or ADHD or other diagnoses of kids who have trouble sitting still. But Dave and I were watching some of our favourite childhood shows on youtube last night. Babar, The Friendly Giant, Mr. Dress-up, and Fred Penner. We both laughed about how slooooowly they moved along. At the lullaby-like music plinking in the background. At calm, kind, unscripted banter between the fellas and their puppets. “No wonder kids can’t sit still anymore” was our mutual reaction. The seizure inducing flashing and violent action of little boys’ shows, and the sexualization of children and promotion of cliquey, materialistic, superficial lifestyle in little girls’ shows is a whole other ball game compared to the shows of our childhood. Kids eat more empty carbohydrates, get less exercise, and watch more f these types of shows on the whole, and do you think its messing them up?

Good, got that all taken care of, haha. Now to my book…

Thanksgiving was awesome. Dave’s mom and dad came to Winnipeg for the weekend, and we walked and talked through Winnipeg’s first snow of the season, played games, and ate. It was a first for Dave and I to be in charge of hosting, planning and preparing a holiday meal, and was so much fun! We made mashed potatoes with cream cheese and chives, stuffing, rainbow carrots, leeks with a white sauce, pear, spinach and almond salad, cream of mushroom and wild rice soup, roasted chicken and gravy (care of Dave) and pumpkin pie with whipped cream (care of moi)! With lots of wine to wash it all down, it was one of the greatest days we’ve had since being here.

I feel remarkably settled here, and have a bit of a routine. I get up early and drink lots of coffee, I swim, read, cook, read some more, cook some more, and hang out with Dave and Jayda. I’m going to start walking dogs at the SPCA next week. I go to church on Sundays, and I think I will start to get a little more involved there too. However, I still view this as a temporary settlement. It is probably a little unhealthy, but between my responsibilities to school work and the number of deep, amazing relationships I am trying to sustain with the people I love back home, I am really not too interested in cultivating a social life here at this point. I define my time by the letters I write and receive, the visitors who have come and whom I know are coming soon, the situations that are too funny or frustrating or profound not to share with someone who is not here to experience it with me, and the trips I will make home, like at Christmas. Sometimes I think I should try harder to be more present here in deeper ways. Mostly though, I feel like the relationships I have back home are so rich and deep, built on so much history, emotion, dedication, struggle and love, that nothing that could be built here could ever be like them. I feel a loyalty to those relationships that transcends distance and change, and will resist losing them however possible. I’ve never felt lonely here, only far away, and I think that is an important distinction. There is a place and there are people that I am gravitationally pulled to. Many people never experience that, and I don’t know how I have either. I just know its there and that I want to keep it.

I would be interested to hear from you who have moved away. How you have felt. How you have approached your new homes and how you have held your old ones.

And you who are still there. How do you hold onto those who leave? By their leaving, how have they changed things for you?

As many of you know, I can’t really swim. As a kid I had problems with my ear drums, and wasn’t allowed to put my head under water. I also sink like a stone, so its a tricky combo. I took some swimming lessons, but dropped out after red level because of the ear thing. I always felt like a loser because I can’t swim well, and especially after Iceland, I kind of dreamed of starting my days off with a swim. So, today I used my new pool membership for the first time, and it was freaking awesome!

Speaking of feeling like a loser, picture, if you will: my glaringly white body entering into the pool. It’s the shallow end, and its divided into six very wide lanes. One is empty, so I get in there. I don my new goggles and ear plugs, and practice putting my head below the surface. When I’m feeling ready to go, I begin dog paddling my way to the other end of the lane. It is very far away. I crap out part way through, flail momentarily, grab the lane divider, but then stand up, remembering I am in 4 foot deep water. Shit. I look around, and I don’t think anybody saw. Good. I dog paddle the rest of the way there, happily grabbing the edge. I take a very long rest, as to avoid repeating the trauma of the first lap, and then take off dog paddling my way along. I make it in one shot, and must have a look of triumph on my face, judging by the smile given to me from the woman in the lane next to mine, who might have though I was handicapped.

Then I realize they have a glorious, glorious room full of flotation devices. Realizing that I already look ridiculous, I strap on a fluorescent orange foam belt. This time when I take off on my dog paddling journey, I glide like a smiling, goggled, lunatic all the way there! Inspired by my new found mobility, I decide its time to put my head under. I start to use the front crawl fr the first time since I was… 9?… silently thank the life guard and the universe for making the lanes as wide as they are, keeping others away from my probably thrashing commotion of limbs, and successfully complete lap # 3, sans dog paddle!

I did twenty laps that way, and by the end realized two things: 1) other people are also using the flutter boards and belts, and 2) nobody is paying any attention to anybody else. After I showered and changed and left the pool, I was greeted with a crisp fall mid morning. I felt so awake, so relaxed, and so full of accomplishment. It was a small thing, but somehow a very big thing. It reminded me that it is good to laugh at yourself sometimes, and that you never get better at anything without just doing it. I think I will go back tomorrow, and I think I will love it again!

I had an incredibly busy week. There is so, so much reading in this program, so that has been consuming most of my time. It’s been good though, and if I’ve learned anything from or since my time at King’s, it’s that working hard and accomplish-able tasks, taking lots of breaks works WAY better than a perpetual cycle of slacking and cramming. Ha. So I’m trying this out.

A few other awesome things have happened. For starters, we kind of have some friends! Some people that we met at a really cool church took us out for lunch last week, and it was really fun. It was our second eating out experience in Winnipeg, and funnily enough was the same place Dave’s sister Ann recommended when we went for lunch with her when she visited a couple days before that. Top notch veggie burgers were had by all, and it was nice for both of us to do something with people other than each other. (We have been having a great time together, but have not interacted with anyone at all outside of the classroom for three weeks!).

Also, in talking to a guy in my program, I learned that he also just moved here from Edmonton, where he worked in the inner city at the Herb Jamison Centre! We know a bunch of the same people in the inner city, and it was so cool to talk to him. Now we are doing a group project together, so I’m sure we’ll learn more. Oh, and he also grew up on a farm!

Despite all of the homework, I have been doing a lot of cooking. You need breaks, and you need to eat, so why not combine? I made home made pasta a few times, including a lasagna with homemade sauce and noodles, which turned out pretty damned well, if I do say so myself. Right now I am waiting for some perogy filling to cool, and I’m going to make perogies. Should be good.

Yesterday I put my hand in some wet cement near my building! It might be lame, but it totally, totally made my day. Today the smoothed over it

And finally, an update on operation “recreate Iceland”: I have bought a pool membership and am going to start swimming. I am NOT a good swimmer, but I think you just have to practice and figure it out. My goal is 3 times a week, and the first steps of buying the pass and telling people I’m going to do it have both been checked off, so now I will start.

Take care, friends. I am quite happy here, but am missing you all very much.

My apartment is:

1. More than 100 years old. This makes it full of “character,” which I can tell is going to be 3 parts fun and 1 part nuisance. The floors, walls, windowsills, and ceilings are hilariously crooked. There are curious pipes running everywhere pipes should and should not be. It’s in the basement, so it’s got some weird tile flooring. 
2. Potentially very easy to break into? I don’t trust my windows. Ha….
3. Very cute, despite the above. I have purchased a large rug with a pirate ship on it, a neat old trunk that is currently functioning as a table, chair and TV stand, and a $5 TV that I know works, but refuses to work in my apartment. I just want to watch the news….
4. In a prime location! Right downtown, close to ALL KINDS of cool things! 20 minute walk to Dave’s apartment, past the legislature grounds, a community garden, and some beautiful streets of old brick houses. Express bus right outside my door!
5. Clean. It wasn’t AT ALL, but is now. Attention Emily Dick, formerly residing at 314 Broadway: I found your shit. Your nasty bar of soap and sponge, enormous wad of hair, and the razor I may contract AIDS from have successfully been retrieved from behind the tub. Please come to collect these items and a free punch in the face. Also, approximately 2 cups of some sort of strong smelling brown sauce have been collected from the underside of the fridge crisper, if you care to collect. Thanks.

Winnipeg is:

1. More culturally diverse than Edmonton, in my estimation. This is very interesting.
2. Architecturally more diverse than Edmonton, and full of gorgeous old brick.
3. Not cold yet, ha.
4. Lame, for having 7% PST. 
5. EXTREMELY humid. Who knew?

If you are reading this, I am missing you. This is, in all honesty though, a very nice city, and you should come visit.

I’ve been trying to think of a worthy reason to either just officially end this blog or keep it going. I couldn’t bring myself to do either.

The idea of owning a little space where people read whatever self-focused drivel I happen to be working through at the moment always seemed, and still seems a bit self absorbed. And yet, I read friends’ blogs, and don’t feel this way about theirs. 

People I love who live far away say that they would read my blog to stay in touch, which is some incentive. But I never really felt like that was its whole purpose either, as I seldom write about what I’ve been doing, and more often about what I’m feeling or thinking about. My two favorite blogs have been Bri’s and Bethany’s. I live with both of them, and yet never see enough of them, and their blogs allow me into their lives in a lovely way. 

On a very basic level, I like writing here. So maybe that’s reason enough to just keep doing it. It doesn’t have to have a specific purpose or audience; it’s just a written part of my life, which never had a specific purpose or audience. I look back at earlier posts and realize I didn’t really know what I was talking about or that my present self disagrees with my past self about certain things. It’s scary to work things out with yourself using written words that other people can see. And yet, it’s a beautifully humbling way to remind myself that I grow and change. That I should ease up on myself a little and cut other people some slack too, since we are doing the best we know how to do with what we have. 

So, consider this the exhale before I continue navigating myself through my own mind here, after a few months of holding breath.