No Rocky Horror would be a terrible thing.

The word 'anticipation' always brings to my mind the Rocky Horror Picture Show. No word has ever been so perfectly spoken as that one was in that film. Seriously.

Maybe I'm biased; I've been a fan for as long as I can recall. I'd never even seen the film, but as a child I had all the words to every song memorized. My mom had the soundtrack on tape (cassette tape!) It was awesome! I'm not even now much of a fan of musicals, but that one had, and still has, some of the most catchy, dramatic tunes to ever grace the screen. Although grace might not be the right word...

Of course I have as an adult seen the film. I watch it every year on halloween. Someone has yet to learn to love it, but maybe this year he'll finally understand. And not inundate me with stupid questions. I mean, really, with costumes and makeup like those, does the film really need to make sense?

I also always watch Ghostbusters on halloween. Holy jeebers did those dog-statue things ever scare me as a kid! I laugh now, but-- !!!

I like soup.

I don't want to just sit and wait for the big changes to come along (fingers crossed for that government job!) so I'm making sure to throw in a few little ones, to keep life spicy.

I'm learning to use a slow cooker. And not just use it, but to eat the foods that come out of it without fear. I've always equated slow cooked foods with foods that have sat around a long time at a low temperature. Unattended. As in possibly teeming with bacteria from time spent in the 'danger zone'... Oh god.

I don't understand why I'm so squigged out by this. Food poisoning, it's not so bad right? And it's not like you can even see the germs wiggling about on your food, or even taste them. It's just the knowing. Knowing can be a terrible thing.

All of the following are terrible things: knowing, not knowing, waiting, a life of no antici pation, food poisoning, anti-soup.

These.

Things I want to do when I make lots of money:

Learn to play the cello.
Take ballet lessons regularly.
Become fluent in french.
Have the equipment to hand print broadsides.
Be friends with an elephant.
See everything. Everywhere. Ever.

Liz Lemon says 'poo' a lot too!

Poo, didn't get the job. It would have been a boring job anyways, but at least it would have been 40 hours a week of boring.


Chatted with some regulars at work and they just happen to be Aircraft Maintenance Engineers! They seemed eager to hook me up with a job-shadowing opportunity so I gave them my number. Now I'm crazy paranoid that I gave them the wrong number. I wish I knew their names. It'll only just be a tad bit awkward to call their company and ask for Mr. Venti-Seven-pump-Non-fat-Quarter-water-No-foam-One-hundred-and-ninety-degree-Chai-tea-latte or his friend, the Tall Chai Latte. No joke. They give me a laugh everytime they come in.


Applying online to Northern Lights College is free. So I did.

I won't jinx it!

Fingers crossed!


But if that doesn't pan out, I'll still be one busy beaver.

Fencing lessons start later in the month, signed up for mainly for the novelty of telling people I'll be taking fencing lessons. Like seriously, who does that? I'm also trying to get into a pilates class. Being as poor as I am I can take classes at the local rec center at half off, but the pilates class requires that the class be half full before anyone can sign up with a discount, so, wait and see on that one. I just wish they'd let me sign up online, but with the card they gave me, I have to sign up for classes in person. How terribly primitive.

This month the Sidney Reading Series starts up again, at the Red Brick Cafe, and while they don't often feature poets, I like listening to all kinds of writers talk about writing. Among those who will be reading is Mary Novik, whose book I fell in love with after randomly pulling it off the shelves at the library and have since ordered my own copy in the hopes of getting it signed but I only just hope the 80%off sticker peels off cleanly because that might be tad bit embarrassing. I had heard a rumour Lorna Crozier would be reading at some point but all the posters I've seen around town don't mention her, which is a bit of a heart breaker. She is one of my absolute mostest favourite poet ever ever, especially since Ondaatje turned out to be... well... grumpy might be the nicest way of saying it. Fart works, too.

And if all that isn't exciting enough, I've also got a Trades Exploration course starting up in January at Camosun, which should help in refining my plans for the future!

After after allllll that, it's time to go to Turkey! I doth heart the adventuring... le sigh.

And tomorrow I'll either send out more poems since I recently added a number of literary magazines to my pile of flash cards, or... vacuum.

I wrote dinoporn poetry, of course I giggle when I say 'poo'.

I'm terribly clumsy. So, long story short, we've been out a blender for some time. But no more will my frozen canned pina colada mix thing sit idle in the freezer, having gone on sale the day after 'the incident' and myself having forgotten and stocked up on frosty deliciousness, for we visited costco! My manfriend and I took his sister and her manfriend in, us having the much coveted costco card, to buy toilet paper. And of course we came out with a cart worth 200$... And...! No, not a blender, but something even better!! A 'Smoothee-Bar'! Ya, it's a blender with a spout bit at the bottom... but you can both blend and pour... at the same time! It's amazing. I'm amazed.


I'm also amazed that I survived an hour hike up a mountain that almost did me in, a full day on a lake, fishing from a sketchy raft we found, lol, and paddled around on with freaking sticks, in the rain, and didn't manage to catch a single thing. Like, seriously? Effort=reward! Get it right, nature.


Nature, though, has provided me with a nag. A wisp of an idea that I know must surely solidify into an idea, some fabulous thought, both deep and whimsical, that can then be teased into words, words crafted into poetry. If only I could just sit and think! I need moments (yes, plural, it's that vague of an idea, it's a nag after all, a wee tug at the back of my mind) to dedicate to the art of pondering. Pooh-style. (teehee, poo!).

My nag: A great big tree I pass in the morning, really really early in the morning, like pre-sun-rise-and-that-time-when-sane-people-wake-up, stretches its canopy over a large portion of sidewalk and throughout the night will have left a circle of sticky all around it, strong enough to tug at my shoes. What kind of tree leaks from it's leaves, it's branches' tippy bits? Is that what's happening? I don't know. But in the afternoon, walking home that same way, I always walk on that same stretch of sidewalk and see it sprinkled with bees, wasps, hornets, a potpourri of stingers in all different fashions of stripes, stuck or ... what? What are they doing? My shoes no longer stick, but these little fellows, a handful of them, have congregated, mellow and well-spaced, so I don't have to step on them, and they don't seem to get too riled up. How terribly interesting, no?

When I grow up, I want to be Tina Fey.

A lot of looking to the future, not a lot of looking to the now.

What does this mean to the writer-me? Not a lot of writing. For now. And maybe not for a bit.

A year has passed since university, and life and writing-life never fit fully into any good groove. Work-work never got into a steady rhythm, and money always seems too tight. The up until now now-plan was to work part-time, write, and housekeep. But the now-plan was just that, a now-plan. It only works for the now, with no room to evolve into a future now-plan, since it sorta had no room for a future-plan. So it's time, having had the now-plan in effect long enough to know that it is not entirely fulfilling, to focus on the future-plan. And dream up a future now-plan.

So, what do I want to be when I grow up...?


I'm thinking of learning a trade. I'll follow the footsteps of other BC poets like Kate Braid and Jane Munro and finance my writing habit through hard labour. So I've been doing a lot of research, not into the mating habits of dinos (le sigh), but into all the different kinds of trades available, and where to learn them. And of course fishing up contacts for folk in the know who
wouldn't mind having a little buddy tag along for a day and see what it's all about, 'cause, in all seriousness, I don't know much about much.


Electricity comes out of walls.

Wings make planes fly.

Cars have wheels. Oh, and red cars go the fastest.