City Lights

Banana Yogurt Muffins

2012-01-26T17:44:00.003-05:00

Now that bananas in Australia are back to $2.98 a kilo (down from $15.98 a kilo after the cyclones last year), I have started to buy lots of bananas to go in my weetbix cereal. Unfortunately, this hot weather causes the bananas to ripen a bit too quickly and I end up needing to do something with the over ripe bananas besides throwing them out.

Banana bread has gotten a bit old, so I've found this recipe, tweaked it and made some extremely tasty and moist muffins for breakfast/lunch/snacks. These muffins come out super moist thanks to the yogurt and oil, plus are healthy if you use whole wheat flour and low fat yogurt. I also really like that they are not too sweet. Just writing about them makes me want to eat another one!

Banana Yogurt Muffins with Honey and Cinnamon

Ingredients:

1 3/4 cups self-raising flour (I used about 1 1/4 cups of whole wheat self-raising flour)

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup natural yogurt (I used fat-free greek yogurt)

1 egg

2/3 cup vegetable oil

2 large bananas, mashed

1 tsp cinnamon

2 tbsp honey

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350 F (180 C) - Makes 12 muffins

Mash the bananas in a large bowl. Add the egg, yogurt, honey and vegetable oil and combine. Add the dry ingredients gradually and mixed until just combined. Be sure not to over mix. Line muffin trays with paper cups and fill (or you can use the silicon cups on a baking try, which I did).

Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the center of the muffin comes out clean. Let cool for 5 minutes and turn on a wire rack to cool completely.

*NOTE: If you don't have self-raising flour (which I didn't), you can make your own by following these ratios:

1 cup plain flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

Welcoming the New Year with New Resolutions

2012-01-08T04:58:00.003-05:00

2011 was a good year. I spent the year living in Melbourne, working at an amazing cultural institution, making great new friends and traveling to several foreign countries. And after almost three years living in Australia, I finally made a trip home to see my family and friends.

Perhaps most notably, I finally got a job in my field as a photographer at the library. I interact daily with some exciting and interesting collections items. Even though the contract lasts only a year, I've been incredibly lucky to spend my days in the studio.

2012 looms ahead of me with uncertainty. I suppose just as every year has. I am not sure what what wait for me in the future, but I will be ready with strength and determination. And not without setting myself some resolutions. There is always something to work for. And though I firmly believe that you do not need a new year to start working towards the things you want to change, it's as good a time as any to try.

2012 Resolutions:

To better look after my health and wellness - this year I need to do the things I've been putting off for a long time, such as visiting the doctor and the dentist. I also want to strive to continue to eat well and exercise regularly. I would like to be able to even improve at the gym by doing things like squatting 20kgs regularly and running 10kms occasionally.
To work on my spiritually and inner balance - I'd like to take more yoga classes and mediate more often, but I would also like to explore going to church again on Sundays when I am not donating plasma at the Red Cross (which I look forward to continuing to do in 2012).
To work on creative endeavours and explore my passions - Now that I have a thermometer for developing film, I would like to get to back into photography and hopefully one day get back into alternative processes. I have started a tumblr for a photo a day project, in hopes to document my life, one photograph at at time--also to get myself into the habit of seeing the world through photography again. I also hope to develop this blog again a documentation of my life in a city. Instead of being about my life in Toronto, this time about my life in Melbourne.
Keep in better touch with my family at friends back in the States - I know that it is easy for life to get in the way, but I know I need my family and friends in my life so I need to write more emails and make more phone calls. I don't want to lose those relationships and I want to make sure they can grow even though we might live miles apart.

And there you have it, my new years resolutions. I hope they help me lead better life this year. And at the very least, they give me something to strive towards.

A very recent memory

2011-06-05T21:36:00.003-05:00

Friday afternoon. About 3.30pm. I'm alone, music is playing in the studio which is only lit by a few small lights and then my two lights, with large diffusers on them. I look over at my mamiya rz67 and think to myself "this is awesome." I do a little dance around my camera, table and copy stand before I stop and return to my work.

I'm currently do a side project where I am digitising an album from 1888's Centennial Exhibition in Melbourne -- images of men in the Victorian Courts. 544 men with varying degrees of facial hair. The images are rather small albumen prints, so it takes some time to focus properly on them.

I sit down and my computer, fiddle around the images in Capture One and I stop for a moment. I realise at this very moment how hard I've worked to be back in a photo studio. How hard I have worked to work with collection material. And there I am, sitting in a studio on a Friday afternoon, shooting various collection objects from an amazing cultural institution in Melbourne.

I like this very recent memory, because it makes all the old memories from previous jobs seem like nothing. It makes all the mornings spent emptying dishwashers, getting old men coffee, operating copiers and answering phones seem worth it. Because now I can put photographer after my name. Because now my most important work tool is a camera (a pretty sexy camera) and not a photocopier.

And that...is pretty cool.

23 January 2011: Two Years On....

2011-02-06T17:36:00.003-05:00

It was recently my two year anniversary in Australia. It is an anniversary that is met with many mixed feelings. For one, it means I have been with Shannon for two years without any need for months of separation. Two years since we have started our life together.

Also two years since I have been to a place I called home for 24 years and two years since I have seen most of my family and almost all of my friends. Two years of trials and adjustments and life in a grown up world.

It's strange to think the place I once called home and the people I love have gone on living without me (an egocentric thought I know, I have done the same). We have grown apart despite how hard we have tried to hold on to each other. Babies have been born (and turned one!), couples have married and in some cases, divorced, homes were purchased, jobs secured, new friends made and lives lost.

Two years has flown by in the blink of an eye and yet, the time is filled with millions of moments that I have missed or that others have missed. But this is the life I have chosen; distance and time will always separate me somehow.

I will often wish I had more money to pay for the enormous plane fares (I should have married a very wealthy man in order to live this lifestyle; I also probably shouldn't have been a person that didn't have a horrendous fear of flying). I hate to think that because of money I miss out on so many wonderful things. I hate to think I need money to change that.

So two years later, time marches on. And I go on, to whatever future I will find. Wherever I might go.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Day 6, Wineglass Bay to Car Park to Hobart

2011-01-12T00:21:00.006-05:00

It was another beautiful morning to wake up to, even if there was some reluctance about packing up camp.

We decided to get an early start in the hopes to avoid the day walkers by leaving the park by 8am. It was much quieter than the day before and we enjoyed the hike along a nearly empty beach.

The second time we did the climb up to the car park seemed much easier than the first try. Perhaps it was because we knew what we were in for. And when we stopped off at the look out, it was almost empty. At least for a few minutes.

We continued on our way without incident, though the closer to the car park we got, the more people we saw. What I'll never understand about some people is that there is a large sign out front of the entrance saying what to bring and wear, particularly for footwear. And yet, in spite of that there are still several people in thongs and ballet slippers doing the hike.

Watching people enter the park did keep me occupied for the following two hours that I had to wait for the shuttle bus. That, and catching up on Facebook. You can't avoid technology forever. Though it is nice to try sometimes.

And in almost a blink of an eye, I was on the Tassielink (gripping for dear life as the bus doesn't have seat belts) back to Hobart. And I was just in time to see all the 2010 Sydney to Hobart race boats at the harbourfront.
I'd be lying if I told you I had a big, crazy New Years. I fell asleep just before midnight--oops, the bed was soft. But, I did get to celebrate with a bottle of Tasmanian wine at the harbourfront and see some fireworks at the kid's firework display. It was still a nice way to end the year.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Day 5, Wineglass Bay

2011-01-09T20:47:00.008-05:00

We awoke and lightly packed our packs and had a hot breakfast of porridge and honey before heading off down the beach for the car park. We were greeted by the sight of two tall ships, The Young Endeavour and The One and All as they made a port stop in Wineglass Bay.

This also meant that there was already a crowd on the beach in front of us. But, we set off anyways and made for the steep climb to the car park. This was the least favourite of all my trails as it was full of day walkers by the time we reached it at about 10am. Already the other side of the beach was filling up with people who have trekked to the main attraction.

We did take a detour at the look out, but it was packed full of other tourists, each of them trying to get their photo taken. Needless to say after days without crowds, I was finding them a bit tiresome. All the de-stressing and communing with nature I had done over the past few days was being quickly forgotten.

With our water bottles full and lunch in our belly, we rushed from the car park and back to Wineglass Bay. I had felt some sadness and anxiety at the car park--it felt as though the trip had already ended. Reaching our campsite again, however, restored me with a sense of calm. We were still camping.

With a warm dinner in our belly, we clutched our terrible instant coffee and watched our last sunset at the park. I felt a sense of accomplishment that I had survived my first camping trip, excitement about tomorrow afternoon's shower and sadness over leaving. I suppose that makes it a success.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Day 4, Cooks Beach to Wineglass Bay

2011-01-09T19:59:00.009-05:00

The morning had come. We left the campsite by 7am after a quick morning of dressing and packing. Whether I was ready or not, we would be climbing up Mt Freycinet and Mt Graham and hiking over the saddle to Wineglass Bay-- the feature of Freycinet National Park and our final campsite.

After crossing the beach, we stopped for a quick breakfast of muesli bars and stripped off our extra layers because we new the steep climb through the forest would be a lot warmer than the trek across a windy beach first thing in the morning. And once we had no more reasons to stall anymore, we set started our ascent.

After a few hours of hiking through the eucalyptus forest, we can to the rock cairn that marked the separate climb to Mt Freycinet. We'd been planning for this side hike and we started down the path, finding a good spot to hide our packs while we continued on scrambling up rocks to the summit. The path up Mt Freycinet was not well marked, though several rock cairns had been put up in place of the occasional orange arrow.

As we continued to climb, we got a few glimpses of the view we were about to have.

But it wasn't until after we scrambled up the last few granite rocks and popped out the trees did we really get an amazing 360 degree view. It was worth the climb.

We sat there for some time, soaking in the view of the beaches and trees far below. We could see back to the tip of the peninsula and to Schouten Island.

But eventually we started to feel hungry and decided to head back down to pick up our packs and have a quick lunch before continuing on. We met a few women on the way down and said hello before scrambling down the rest of the rocks.

After a relaxing lunch, Shannon and I set off for Mt Graham feeling optimistic. That was quickly destroyed as the hike up Mt Graham felt steeper and more difficult with a pack on. Every time I climbed up another granite rock, I felt I had to struggle to stand up again with an extra 15 kgs weighing down on me. Partway up we were stopped by a man asking if we had seen his son. This question shocked us as we had seen no one. And the thought of losing someone in a National Park sounded terrifying. I could only imagine the thoughts going through his head as he asked us before continuing on.

As it turned out, a father, mother and two sons had hiked up from Wineglass Bay for a day hike. The older son (who turned out was about 14) had gone ahead of the group and once the family reached the summit of Mt Graham lost all sight of him. For about two hours the father searched around the trails for his son as the mother and younger son traveled back to the camp. As it turned out, the son had run on ahead and as there was the side trail for Mt Freycinet, the father and son kept missing each other.

I take it as a lesson about why it's very important to stick with the group out in the wilderness. While that kid was tall and reasonably smart (I say reasonably smart because he did run off from him family and leave them panicking about his safety for several hours), he still could have slipped and hit his head. The path was not well marked around Mt Graham and the granite rocks were large and some of them were wet and slippery.

Thinking of the family made the walk along the saddle a quiet one. By the time we started our long and winding descend to Wineglass, we were feeling a bit tired.

Aching, sore, hungry and tired, we finally saw the rot-a-loo, signifying we had reached the campsite. I was about ready to collapse and had already managed to suck my hydration bladder dry. It didn't help that it had been the warmest day of the trip so far that we chose to hike those 14kms.

Both Shannon and I were a bit cranky and it took three tries of setting up the tent and taking down the tent at three different locations before we found one that we both liked and that was secluded enough so that we didn't have to see other campers. This was by far the busiest campsite and the least nice.

The sand was like dirty ash and got everywhere for starters. It was the smallest campsite, but had the most amount of people and many of them large and talkative groups. And to finish it off the rot-a-loo was the most used and therefore the worst smelling of all of them. It also didn't help that there was a huge spider in one of the stalls. Not that I close the doors on the rot-a-loo to use them, I'm afraid I'd die of asphyxiation in there.

But after a nap out of the hot, late afternoon sun and a snack overlooking the beach, things didn't seem so bad anymore. Except for the fact that we had less than one litre of water left and another full day in the park. Instead of spending a day playing in the water (it was too cold anyways) and relaxing on the beach, we had to make the decision to hike out to the carpark a day early to get more water and hike back. There was no water to treat at Wineglass Bay and so hiking out was our only option.

So, after enjoying a hot dinner and a sunset on the beach, we turned in early for another day of hiking.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Day 3, Bryans Beach

2011-01-09T17:51:00.007-05:00

Waking up to blue skies, white sand and turquoise water (no matter how cold it might be) is paradise, plain and simple. Even if you haven't showered in three days and the wind is a bit cold, it's still paradise. We weren't ready to take Mt Freycinet today, so we'd planned for a side trip down to Bryans Beach for a few hours.

After a pancake feast, we left the tent and took our packs down to Bryans Beach on the Southern end of the peninsula, across from Shouten Island.

The path looked somewhat overgrown and quite obviously less traveled, but the climbing around and over fall trees and branches was worth it and we were left with a near empty white sand beach. Bryans Beach didn't have many visitors on foot, but it certainly had several boats anchored around.

It was a perfect, lazy, sunny afternoon to dip your feet in the cool water and walk along the warm sand. I also did a fair bit of climbing around the sand dunes to find Bryans Lagoon, which was marked on the map.

After a lunch trail mix and mountain bread dipped in peanut butter, Shannon and I made the hike back to Cooks Beach. The good thing about hiking in December is that the days are the longest and the weather is usually still quite cool. We were fortunate with sunlight by 6am and it lasted until after 9pm. We actually got very little use out of the lanterns we brought with us--except to read The Hobbit aloud at night.

By the time we returned to our tent, there were already about eight other tents set up for the night, but since they were set up far away, we almost didn't know any of them were there. After a hearty dinner and a cup of the last hot chocolate, we turned in after watching some of the sunset. Tomorrow, we were going to find out what hiking is really like.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Day 2, Hazards Beach to Cooks Beach

2011-01-08T05:23:00.006-05:00

After a night of rain and dropping temperatures as we slept cramped in our two man tent (we will later come to realise that of all the campers in Freycinet, we may have the smallest--and likely lightest--tent around), we awoke to a brisk, windy and clear day 2 of our adventure. After dressing, we hiked over to the Rot-a-loos (a foul smelling invention, but this was the cleanest of the three, Wineglass Bay not only smelled the worst, it was inhabited by a spider larger than my palm). As the hike to Cooks Beach only took about two hours, we took our time packing up camp and making a warm breakfast, including mochas.

The view at Hazards Beach was beautiful, despite the freezing winds--so much for summer in Tasmania.

Just before midday, we set out for Cooks Beach, taking our time to enjoy the woods. Not too much time, for as I was leading the way, I spotted some a few metres on that was not a stick. Rather, it was one of the three snakes native to Tasmania--and all of them poisonous.

Fortunately, I kept my distance and live to tell the tale of my first Australian poisonous snake sighting. Outside of the zoo or museum of course. I made Shannon lead the rest of the hike to Cooks Beach (boy, my investment in gaiters paid off). Through the trees, Cooks Beach came into view--yet another white sand beach with turquoise water. We walked across to the opposite side of the beach to the campsite. This time we were not the only campers; a couple had set up camp after kayaking in. However, we managed to find a site with a view and set up camp for the next two nights.

Of the three campsites in Freycinet, this was the best. That view definitely has something to do with it.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Day 1, Carpark to Hazards Beach

2011-01-03T20:18:00.012-05:00

With our water bladders and Nalgene bottles filled, we climbed aboard the Tassielink--complete with no seat belts--and set our sights for the tiny town of Coles Bay and Freycinet National Park. Now, I had said that we had never done any hiking this before and it's completely true. But knowing the kinds of gear we needed, I put a lot of research into what products to buy.

For shoes I refused to compromise on some cheap hiking boots--the last thing I wanted was blisters and having to drag around heavy hiking boots on my feet for 6 days. I settled on Hi-Tec's V-Light Altitude hiking boots. I broke them in for a few weeks and then on the trip and they did not disappoint. For holding our gear, we purchased Deuter Aircontact hiking packs. I purchased the 50 + Litre Slimline series, specifically designed for women. It was worth paying the money for these packs as mine was extremely comfortable despite carrying 20kgs.

The park doesn't guarantee water (though it's been a wet season and there was some) so we planned for no water and carried a minimum of 7 litres each. It wasn't the recommended 3-4 litres per person, per day, but we made it almost 5 days with it.

From the car park, it's about a four hour journey to the Hazards Beach campsite. With overcast skies, we slowly made our way around Mount Mayson, the first hazard.

I was eager this walk as we were trying out something new and the terrain was gentle. Arriving at Hazards Beach felt like the accomplishment of the day, but the beach seemed to go on forever.

it was actually getting to the campsite that felt like the real accomplishment. Dropping our heavy packs, Shannon and I set up camp for the night, putting together our modest two-mean Denali x-wind tent up for the second time ever (the first time was in our Melbourne apartment). Aside from a panic to find the tent stakes, everything went smoothly and we set up our camp stove for dinner. Around the same time, a few visitors joined us at the empty campsite.

I admit I've never seen a wombat in the wild! Sore and aching, we ended our first night as the only people at the Hazards Beach campsite. We were sore and cold, but feeling rather proud.

Hiking Freycinet National Park: Christmas in Hobart

2011-01-03T19:52:00.008-05:00

I have never been trekking before or on any overnight camping trip that involved carrying everything in a pack and hiking from campsite to campsite. Like most things, the idea struck me at work one day, while I was feeling run down and tired with all things technological, electronic and modern. I had probably also tired of barking dogs, public transport and the general crowds of people who always seem to be in your way whenever you need to get anywhere quickly.

I used to be a sailor--a tall ship sailor. But constant moving and the process of growing up has put me away from that lifestyle and form of escape. It was time I came up with a new escapist hobby. After all, I'm already used to rationing showers and eating less than gourmet style food. So with no experience--and my husband with about as much experience as me, aside from both of us knowing about the outdoors from Scouts or summer camps--we hatched a plan to hike for 6 days and 5 nights in Freycinet National Park in Tasmania.

It would rejuvenate us as well as get me far away from the depressing holidays. That is, if we lived to tell the tale. After months of research on the park, and hours spent researching trekking gear and trekking meal plans and how to treat snake bites, Christmas Day arrived. We had booked our flights to Hobart and our buses to the park and had our park passes safely packed with all our gear. It was time for two "green" hikers to set off.

I had never been to Tasmania before and I fell in love with Hobart the moment I saw it. It could be the harbour front, alive with fishing boats, sailing yachts and tall ships that had me hooked.

I surprised myself with eating a fresh fish fry from one of the many fish and chip places along the water--Fish Frenzy happened to be along to the docks where many floating fish and chip shops make their berth. I must say, when I eat fish, I manage to pick well.

I had to remind myself that would probably be the last decent meal for a few days, because the next day--after visiting Hobart's famous Saturday morning Salamanca Market--we'd be heading off to Freycinet via the Tassielink bus system.

As with most holidays in Australia, Christmas Day brought and emptiness to Hobart that would be gone on our return on New Years Eve. The streets were empty, save mostly tourists like ourselves.

It was a low key Christmas in a beautiful little city found on the River Derwent. But it was the next 6 days that tested me, my husband and my newly acquired gear.

A Little Less 'Deck the Halls' a Little More 'Long December'

2010-11-17T18:25:00.002-05:00

It's heading to that time of year again. The inevitable holiday season and for many of us that means Christmas. I shouldn't have done it this morning, but I put on Christmas music at work. Instead of being flooded with excitement, I am suddenly achy all over. What is it that I am aching for? Past Christmas seasons when I still believed in magic, my family 12,000 miles away or the traditions I have given up?

I've traded in real Douglas fir trees, Christmas cookies, snow, fires in the fireplace, hearty meals of mashed potatoes, ham, stuffing and turkey and spiked eggnong or hot chocolate for Christmas puddings, mince pies and fruit cakes, cricket, cold beer, cold salads and bbqs, plastic trees, long and hot summer days and pools.

Last year was my first experience of Christmas Carols while sweating. I suppose many people experience the holiday that way. I hadn't. And no, I didn't like it. I missed my family and my traditions. I gave the plastic tree a go and I think I tried a mince pie with custard (a vile experience I am glad I won't have to repeat this year....thank you diet). I even swam in a pool the day after Christmas. I ate cold salads and drank tea instead of a hearty meal with family. I might have even gotten a sunburn.

But it didn't make me happy. It didn't feel like Christmas. It felt like any other day of the year. Any other summer day on a weekend where you spent most of the day laying around to avoid the heat. There were a few presents involved, but that doesn't make the holiday. But then again, what does? That is dependent on the person.

For me? It's the holiday the way I've always known, with the people I've always known. But, we all have to grow up and sometimes that includes moving away. Far away. And that changes everything. So this year I have decided that I am not celebrating the Christmas season. It just feels right. Going away to camp in the wilderness, to enjoy nature in the summer weather. But, I still have to survive the rest of the season up until December 25th. I forgot about that.

So, here we go. I'm preparing myself for the wait (without Christmas cookies or anything else). Another long December until next year....

Halloween - Just an American Holiday?

2010-10-28T19:27:00.002-05:00

I recently read a blog post by Jim Birmingham on Halloween in Australia. I really appreciate his defense of the holiday and especially his defense of the "big, bad American culture." But what I love more about this article is not Jim's witty writing or well thought out points, but the comments (which often he replies to). Many of the comments I find insulting, proving there is a large anti-American sentiment in Australia (but I already knew that as I have spent a long time on the receiving end of those comments from strangers, co-workers and even friends and family).

One commenter wrote: "It's all typical American BS like Santa in his red costume and tupper ware parties etc...It's about boycotting American cultural imperialism."

To which Jim replied: "the US embassy just called and they want us to take back Russ and Nicole and Hugh and the Wiggles and Mel (oh man, they really to give him back) and uncle Rupe and... oh well, they're all coming home cos America is sick of our cultural imperialism."

And other comments that have been left are: "The brain dead Austericans (nothing to do with austere) should stay amongst peers and not drag the rest down with them." I don't know who he is, but I'd never let my kids knock on his door, not even to sell him good ol' Aussie Girl Guide biscuits. I am also sure that might be a racist attitude isn't helping me believe Australians are so wonderful and Americans are bad. Nicholas Negroponte said "Nationalism is a disease." And Americans aren't the only ones afflicted with it. Perhaps there is also an 'Ugly Australian' to mix with the 'Ugly American'?

"I, for one, welcome our new Seppo cultural overlords. Australia could use more guns. Especially assault rifles. Would LOVE an M4." Not everyone in America owns a gun or even likes them, so this joke, at the best of times, is an over-generalisation. I for one don't and I don't like them nor have a use for one under my pillow or in my closet or attached to my hip.

"The Seppos have just done what they do best, taken it over and commercialised the crap out of it for the rest of us." To be fair, Australia puts out KILOS of Christmas decorations in September. And for Australia Day every store sells anything and everything with an Australian flag on it, down to underwear and stubbie holders. But no, Americans are the only ones that commercialise things.) Also, 'Seppo' is a lovely phrase for an American national, derived from septic tank. Thanks.

All this anti-American sentiment is interesting. I get that most Australians hate how much of our businesses and TV shows have crept into their society. And yet I see so many people with McDonald's bags and coke in their hands. There is clearly a love/hate relationship going on here.

There is also a tendency to lump every single American into them mix for causing either the Iraq of Afghanistan war (believe me, I cried when we invaded Iraq. And they were not tears of joy). I don't like to be judged by my former dimwitted President anymore than Australians want to judged as being like Steve Irwin or Paul Hogan.

I don't think my culture is superior in any way. There are plenty of things I choose actively to avoid. And there are things that I love. The point is, my culture and traditions are more a reflection of my family and the way I grew up than just what country I grew up in. The things I will carry with me and share with my children are the things that shaped my life in a positive and wonderful way. Friday family dinners, homemade Halloween costumes, baking Christmas cookies, pumpkin pies and apple pies (made the same way my Grandmother made them and then my mother and now me), decorating two Christmas trees (the big one and the kids one full of homemade ornaments from class and scouts), a stuffed bunny and a book in every Easter basket and red hots with homemade potato salad for every summer celebratory picnic). These are the traditions that make me...me. Not American or a Seppo or a converted Australian. ME. And I get to define that.

But back to the debate at hand. My final favourite comment from Jim's blog: "You hammer us but give no good cohesive reason for it other than the kids love the sugar rush and its a good excuse to get drunk. So i suppose in a way that is an Aussie pastime. But you can apply that to just about anything can't you.

So are you going to celebrate Thanksgiving too?" I have to agree with that getting drunk for every holiday seems like an Aussie pastime.

As for Thanksgiving, I'd prefer Australians don't celebrate it. Now that's a holiday that I can proudly say has roots that are truly American (unlike Halloween, though I guess television has confused most Australians a bit about reality). Thanksgiving was celebrated by the pilgrims in 1621 after their first successful and plentiful harvest. They invited the Native Americans to share the feast with them (back before the incoming white people turned on them). It wasn't a true national holiday until 1863 in the midst of the Civil War--thank you, Lincoln.

So no, I don't want Australians celebrating that holiday. But to put up a big fuss about Halloween, whose origins are much much much older than America is a bit silly. I resent being told by Australians that as an American I must be a gun-loving, SUV driving, war-loving, ignorant individual who wants to impose my culture on everyone else. You and you alone can decide what traditions you want to make for yourself and your family.

And me? I'm keeping Halloween.

Down the Mornington Peninsula

2010-10-21T05:59:00.001-05:00

For the most part, I like not owning a car. I live in a city where the tram is at my doorstep and the train is around the corner. A taxi fare from the CBD is only about 20 dollars. I don't have to worry about the price of petrol or insurance, maintenance bills, rego or car payments. And best of all, I'm reducing my carbon footprint.

But sometimes, when I want to get away from town and explore other places, a car would be rather useful. So, it was quite the treat to have my in-laws drive down from South Australia. It meant that for a few days, we'd have a car to drive down to the Mornington Peninsula, just an hour away from our apartment.

On a sunny Saturday morning, we piled into the car and started the drive down the Nepean Highway. After a nice nap, we stopped the car at Heronswood Garden in Dromana.

It is home to the Digger's Club, a garden club interested in preserving traditional gardening and heritage plant varieties. As if this sign outside Heronswood wasn't proof enough.

My in-laws decided to opt out of paying $10 per person to see the gardens and instead purchased items from the shop before heading to the restaurant on site Fork to Fork for some coffee and scones as we had missed out on their fabulous organic lunch menu. I'd like to make the trip back there someday to try the constantly changing menu.

With gardening purchases in hand, we set our sites on the real reason we came to the Mornington: to drink wine. On our way inland to the wine region, we ended up getting sidetracked at Arthur's Seat and had to pile out of the car to get a picture or two.

Now, finally on to some wineries. Except that my father in-law took a detour when he saw cheese tasting. Okay, so cheese tasting, then wineries! We stopped at Red Hill Cheese to indulge ourselves in a tasting platter (and I tried everything but the blue cheese).

I have found that I am not a fan of cow milk products in Australia (I have yet to deduce why, but so far they seem to have a sharp taste and a slightly foul odor). I surprised myself by enjoying the sheep and goat cheeses. I even bought the sheep's milk soft cheese, Tyabb Mist.

And then, we drove back down the dirt road to stop at Main Ridge Estate. Our first winery of the day. Somehow, with all the distractions and afternoon tea, the day had withered away and it was now after 4pm. Our plans to visit the Peninsula's wineries had suddenly been dashed. But, here at least was one, looking very welcoming in the low afternoon sun.

Known for their award winning chardonnay (which my mother-in-law promptly made a face at) and their pinot noir (my husband bought a bottle of their half acre pinot, in hopes that he can have enough restraint to cellar it for the next 10 years).

We only had time for one more fast detour at Lindenberry to quickly try their range of wines and grab a few cleanskins before heading back up the Nepean Highway. We passed through Brighton just in time to catch the beautiful afternoon sunset on one of the first warm days of this (rather late) Spring.

Victoria: the Place to Be

2010-10-20T06:26:00.011-05:00

Well, that's what the licence plates say anyways. I'm looking into it. As I was talking on Skype with my mother this evening (her bright and early morning), she asked me why I began writing in my blog again. I had no immediate response; I was dreadfully silent during my time in Adelaide. Maybe I was preoccupied with getting married and settling in. But, I probably should have written something during those 2 1/2 months of unemployment. What's done is done, however, and now that I am in Melbourne I feel a burst of creativity and curiosity.

I know South Australia is known as the 'Festival State', but since arriving in Melbourne in June there have been a plethora of festivals. Writers Festival (where I saw the hilarious, genius and entertaining Joss Whedon give a key note address), Spring Fashion Week, State of Design Festival, Fringe Festival (not as good as Adelaide's however), Melbourne Festival to name a few. I apologise if I omitted any. There was also the Melbourne Open House 2010, where the buildings of Melbourne open their doors to the public and we gladly take the chance to peer inside.

While it runs over two days, Shannon and I only had the chance to visit a few buildings on the Sunday. First stop was the Origin Energy rooftop garden:

7 stories up, we got to take the opportunity to look over some of the city. Including a snapshot of the Eureka Tower, the highest building in Melbourne at 91 stories tall.

Next, we traveled to Collins Street to the ANZ Gothic Bank. Originally built in 1883-7 as the English, Scottish, Australian Chartered Bank, it has eventually become a fully functioning ANZ branch with a Gothic twist.

We also got to the see the original bank manager's, "apartment" (it is probably too grand, with too much gold leaf and and too many gas lamps to be considered an apartment). Sir George Verdon, the first bank manager, was at least smart enough to get double glazed windows (something that's a rarity in Australian buildings now). His home is now used for ANZ private banking (if you have millions to spend, you might get to meet there to talk investments and such), but as it is still a working bank, I was unable to photograph any of the interior. Stupid security!

After waiting in line for about an hour and a half at the bank for a tour, we walked over to Docklands to see the Mission to the Seafarers. I am unable to stay away from anything with the word "sea" in it.

There is also a large Dome in the mission, which was once used a gymnasium. There are a few rings left in the ceiling, which hint to its old existence, however it is now used a gallery.

After that visit, it was a walk back to the tram via the Seafarer's bridge and Southbank where I set my eyes on the Polly Woodside for the first time. She's owned by the National Trust and in the final stages of her fit out before she is opened for public tours. She won't sail again, but she's looking rather smart.

I am currently sorting out the details to volunteer with the ship when she opens to the public sometime in December 2010.

Aside from enjoying a crisp winter day in Melbourne, I have enjoyed many tea breaks in the tea room of the NGV, seen both of the Winter Masterpieces exhibitions at the NGV and ACMI. I'm still new to the city and every weekend out is an adventure to explore the CBD, my suburb and the suburbs beyond.

My suburb also happens to be known for a large Jewish community and with that comes many amazing bakeries like Glicks that make fresh bagels. I haven't had a fresh, real bagel since leaving the States in January 2009 and I am happy to say that I have indulged myself in many morning bagels with schmear.

I'm starting to think Melbourne might be the place for me.

Next time: A quick trip to the Mornington Peninsula.

Digital Panoramas

2010-10-15T20:13:00.011-05:00

Since I got my small, rugged, take-anywhere Lumix FT1 for my honeymoon (easier to stash than a DSLR, cheaper and far more portable in places I plan to go in the future), I have latched on to the panorama assist function. I find the most beautiful scenes that I can, which won't fit into one frame and I turn them into many, using the handy little automated grid on my camera screen.

I then take them home and plug them into Hugin and let the magic begin. I let a program do most of the work, aligning the images and matching the exposure/colours. I then set to work in Photoshop for some fine tuning-- a bit of cropping, burning, dodging and some trusty level adjustment. And once that is done, this is what I've come up with so far:

Auckland from Mt. Eden, New Zealand

Uluru at sunrise, Northern Territory

Kings Canyon, Northern Territory

Mt. Connor, Northern Territory

Alice Springs from ANZAC Hill, Northern Territory

It's a bit of a start. I have a few more to do. I confess that I mostly discovered the tool when I went to the Northern Territories with my husband and older brother (best trip ever...would do it again with them in a heartbeat). I look forward to finding the right weather to photograph Melbourne from Southbank and Elwood Beach. I also have every intention of taking a million photos from Freycinet National Park in Tasmania this Christmas. And any other adventure that comes my way soon.

Now, to figure out how to print these things....

Distance Between

2010-10-13T17:52:00.002-05:00

"Now there's an ocean between, where I am and where I want to be." - Flogging Molly

When I moved so far away I knew I would feel, at times, strong pangs of homesickness. But I have made my decision to live here, so I have accepted those feelings as natural. But what I didn't think about what just how far away you could feel sometimes.

These feelings and thoughts come from having had a rather tough week; I guess not really for me because I am so removed from the situation. And yet, even in being so far away, I feel that it ought to be affecting me and completely alter the course of my week. And yet things go on, uninterrupted, though I feel stuck in some sort of limbo, unable to express my own feelings and somewhat unsure of what they should be.

This week a friend's father passed away. Though he had been ill many years before, it was quite a shock. I used to be quite close with this friend and his family (we used to sail together) and unfortunately, the years put distance between us. I should be there to offer my condolences, but I feel utterly useless so far away. I feel shocked, pained, dismayed, confused, but mostly useless. What help will a Facebook message offer?

It's made me realise just how much I miss. A year and a half ago a friend passed away quite suddenly. I don't think I had the chance to really grieve or speak to friends who could help me. And being so far away, I can be told my friend is gone, but how am I to know? I am so far away, that I didn't see a funeral or a wake or even a gravestone. I only have Facebook to follow. So much of my life relies on the validity of what I read on Facebook. The miles make it so easy to turn everything into a dream; the world I left behind when I moved is no more than a dream.

I have friends who have had children (beautiful babies who I will not meet until they are much older), friends have been married and divorced. I can't expect life to stop for me when I am so far away, but sometimes you feel it changes much faster than you can grasp it.

And people could tell me that that's the decision I have made when I moved here and I have to understand that life will go on without me and it's normal to feel left behind and isolated. I have a life here and people's lives to share and be a part of. But that doesn't change the fact that somewhere in the world, far from me are people that I love and care about. People who I have known for the better part of my life and I can't be there for them. I can't share their joy or their pain. I can only send a Facebook message to express myself and hope that is enough.

It might be for them, but sometimes it's not enough for me.

The City in the Rain

2010-10-12T17:33:00.003-05:00

This morning I climbed on the tram, bleary-eyed and rather cold for a Spring day. The sky was gray, still threatening another downpour and the ground was still slick with the sky's last offering. I felt the fresh, chill in the air, more akin to Fall than Spring.

As I stepped off the tram, surrounded by concrete sidewalks and skyscrapers, I was bombarded by a strange array of smells. Smells always heightened after a good downpour. Cigarettes, coffee and subway bread immediately hit my nose after retreating from the stale interior of the tram. They are always stuffy this time of year, with hordes of professional business people in their suits and shiny shoes all crammed together like sardines.

Cigarettes are a smell hard to avoid in a city. There is always someone in front of you, cigarette dangling between his or her fingers, the trail of white smoke lazily wafting towards you as you try desperately to hold your breath so as to avoid foul, stifling smell. After rain, the stale smell of cigarettes lingers in the air, mingling with the smell of coffee. Coffee is a warm, rich, inviting smell--one that invigorates rather than repulses. It's everywhere in the morning, drifting from cafes and coffee cups.

And Subway bread, a smell that is so distinctive that you immediately know you must be in the vicinity of a store where the sugary bread is slowly rising in an oven. It was a smell that quickly blotted out all other smells this morning.

As I rushed away from Subway, the freshening smell of rain hit my nose, quickly followed by dirt. The smell of a dirty city--the kind of smell that is only stirred up by a hot, stifling summers day or after a drenching rain. The kind of smell made of up actual dirt and soot, stale body odors from thousands of people, garbage that has been littered on the ground and no doubt a fair amount of piss. It is an unmistakable, metropolitan smell. It runs amok in the streets of New York and Paris--it no doubt has found its way to Melbourne.

I wrinkle my nose until I'm greeted by the faint smell of perfume. Although too much can choke you on the tram in the morning, just a hint of it drives the city smell from my memory. And so I continue my walk, greeted again by the smell of cigarettes, rubber, smoke, coffee and fresh rain until I scan my keycard and retreat into the office.

And while not all the smells are pleasant, I find them fascinating. They are what makes a city, uniquely a city. All the smell that linger on the concrete and bitumen remind me that it's a city full of people and life.

Identity

2010-09-30T21:33:00.002-05:00

My in-laws are in town this weekend and last night there was a discussion about my husband applying for his British passport--as his father was born in England and later moved to the Southern Hemisphere. My mother-in-law was sure to mention at the end of the discussion, "don't forget you are Australian first and foremost." My mother has told me something similar saying that no matter where I go, "just remember you are always American. Don't give that up." Not that I would surrender my American citizenship, but it has caused my mother some unnecessary worry.

But all that talk about identity in terms of country got me thinking. What on earth is going to happen to my children? If my husband must always be Australian first and I must always be American first, then what do our children have to be first? It would certainly cause an identity crisis if we expected them to be both at all times. And when did our identity have to be so tied in with our citizenship? Does where we come from completely dictate who we are? Can we only be from one country? Perhaps, we are only born in one country, but is it perhaps our more recent memories and experience that change that?

However, I wouldn't consider myself Australian. I don't know if I even truly consider myself American anymore. I haven't been in the country for nearly two years. A lot can change in two years--including myself. And I don't know if I could completely relate the same way I used to. So, I guess I'm an outsider. Does it mean I have lost my identity too?

And in a globalised world, why are we so concerned with tying identity to country anyways? We've melded so much culture together that we're all living with second hand traditions borrowed from other countries anyways. So why are we so concerned with defining ourselves by imaginary lines anyways?

My husband told me this morning on the tram that our children will be "citizens of the world." But they still have to live somewhere. Do we battle it out to see if we raise them in Australia or the States or do we find neutral ground in a place like the UK? Does it even matter? It probably matters greatly to our parents, where one of them will have to miss out more than the other if we pick one of our birth countries. But then is it fair to make them both miss out? Is it even possible to split our time 50/50 between countries. Unless I win the lottery, I think not.

But then again, does it really matter? Can't it all work out? Won't our children's identities in the be determined by how we shape them? Not just where on the world map they live? But my husband cannot identify as British. He has never lived there. But does that mean that there isn't some part of him, of his history and family identity that is British doesn't count? Maybe it really does come down to where you live now, not just where your family comes from or where you go.

But I'd like to think that those things matter. I believe that my identity is more than my passport.

Starting at the Beginning: Adelaide

2010-07-09T05:02:00.003-05:00

Before I begin to chronicle my new lifestyle in Melbourne, I thought I should take the time to step back for a bit to Adelaide. It was after all, the first city I have called home in Australia, and it always will be, for better or worse.

When I arrived in Adelaide, I admit that it felt very different from being a tourist. All the pressures and needs of everyday life came with me--that includes the need for a steady income. 2 1/2 months of stress brought me gainful employment as an admin at a law firm. Not exactly the dream career I left graduate school hoping to achieve. Perhaps I was slightly overqualified for my role, but pickings were slim for an outsider who had to convince people she had a legitimate visa. And it was my first job. Education has this wonderful talent for building students up to make them believe they will get their dream job when they finish. Reality is, you're lucky if you get something a step up from the minimum wage job you did to get you though university.

So, for over a year, I grappled with the reality of a first job. Of the disappointment in being unable to obtain something in your field. Of the reality that the jobs just aren't there in the city you live in--or they haven't been created yet. Or maybe no one cares about the arts. Instead all that filled my mind was legal contracts, briefs to counsel, due diligence, court forms, lease agreements and the wealth of property developers and energy companies. Now, I know it paid the bills, but I was fighting for the two things I'm rather against -- urban sprawl and oil drilling. Not to mention you live in an office where there is a sometimes unspoken, but ever constant divide between the "professional staff" and the "admins". It's there, it hurts and it's offensive.

I can say that that divide even seeped into my personal life and I was friends in Adelaide with one too many lawyers. Not only was I reminded of my first demeaning quality (I was only a woman), but I was also the woman who was seen as their "secretary". So, I may harbour some bitterness when it comes to that role. And I may never look past that.

But, I by no means want that to be the judgement of my time in Adelaide, or my experience. It was unfortunate that I could not find the employment that would better suit my talent, skills and most importantly, my convictions. I'm not sorry to say that I hope to have left the legal world behind FOREVER.

Adelaide is a lovely place, but I was miserable. I was tainted largely by a job I hated and by always feeling like an outsider. I wasn't from Adelaide and that spoke volumes. I'd never belong, just like I can never change my accent. People will always tell me how much they "love New York City" when I tell them I'm from "New York State" and people will always wonder if I am on vacation. They might confuse me as a Canadian instead of being from the States, but that didn't matter. It only mattered that in many ways I was always being reminded that I wasn't from there, I didn't go to private school there and I would never be from there. I didn't grow up in the right suburb, didn't go the right clubs (I hate clubbing, I am so over a beat and no music) or even shop at the right stores. I don't wear makeup and I think my best outfit is a t-shirt, jeans and Sperrys. I hate high heels. I also hate both AFL Footy teams in Adelaide (go Saints). And I will never ever join a footy tipping group at work. NEVER. I think drinking after work on a Friday night with just workmates in the work kitchen is weird and anti-social. I also would like to point out that while I am American, I am not America itself and am not personally responsible for any comment or action made by the handful of nut job Americans out there. And when generalising my country, it does help that when you say "except you of course" you actually know other Americans you are generalising, because I'm pretty sure I'm the only American you know so I'm the only evidence you have to go on. I don't mind being different, I am proud to be different, but I shouldn't be ashamed because of it.

I haven't written much in the past year in Adelaide. Even with a new computer. I have no voice. I feel mute, uninspired, miserable, useless, homesick. I don't even take pictures. Any creativity I had was being squashed and I wouldn't stand for it. I was getting out. And that's how I found myself on a plane to Melbourne. On my way to the enemy. Dirty, nasty Victoria. A nice place, except it is full of Victorians. Or so they say.

I can't promise that Melbourne will do wonders for me. I can't promise that will heal every ache in my heart. But time will tell.

From Adelaide to Melbourne

2010-06-19T08:31:00.002-05:00

I probably should have kept this blog going as I moved from the States to Australia in order to chronicle the trials and tribulations of being an expat. But now with almost a year past, I have remained silent--though I guarantee I have probably had a lot to say on the subject. But, I find myself on the horizon of another big move; though this will be the first time in a few years the move takes me only to another state and not another country.

23 January 2009: I arrived in Australia and moved to Adelaide to start a life with my fiance and to find my first full time job and do all those things an adult does after leaving university.

20 June 2010: I am boarding a plane to move to Melbourne in order to start a new job, arguably a new job that will set me down the professional path I want to travel. For the first week or two, I will be alone, navigating a new city from a hostel (until I finally secure suitable accommodation). I am leaving behind most of my belongings, my husband, my pets and the place I have had to call home for over the past year to set out on another adventure.

I seem to regularly leave behind my comfort zone. I confess I find it a bit exhilirating and just as terrifying.

I do have mixed feelings about uprooting myself so soon after settling in. I have made friends and most of my husband's family lives in Adelaide. I have settled into a routine, with local pubs and local parks. But, despite all the aspects I have found to love in Adelaide, I have struggled with feeling like I am still in a small country town. Granted the population is over 1 million--so for Australia, it definitely earns city status. But, it's 9 hours from any other city over a million people. It is painfully isolated (I don't know if I would survive in a real Australian country town).

I confess. I am a city girl. I thrive off the vibe on the streets, the buzz and hum, the people, the smells (most of the time anyways) and the lights. Melbourne has this and more. And when I think of that, I know that I am doing the right thing. I wonder what place in my heart Melbourne will hold (could it ever beat out Toronto?) and what impact it will have on my journey.

All I know right now is that, I'm a city girl. And I'm heading back to the city lights.

A Proposal, a Graduation, an International Move

2008-10-31T16:27:00.004-05:00

It is Halloween and the eve of this year's NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month...every November...30 days and 50,000 words). So, I thought before I plunge into the depths of my literary imagination, I'd stretch my fingers and awaken my very lazy Inner Writer. So much has changed since I set out with this blog and I'm struggling to grasp it. I set out with this blog as a graduate student and on this past Wednesday, I stood in a black robe on Ryerson Theatre's stage to be hooded and handed a Master's diploma. What I set out to do I accomplished, which became quite obvious as I proudly sang the Canadian national anthem (and yes, I know all the words). I set out for an adventure in Toronto...and I got one.

But all good things come to an end.

Such a great part of my Northern adventure took place because I crossed paths with Shannon, the Australian, who quickly became my friend and then my boyfriend. Toronto was an adventure for him, a year abroad, complete with a proper frozen winter. I even followed Shannon to Australia for several months, beginning another adventure in another country. I returned to work on my thesis and I flew back to the US with a draft and an engagement ring. Little did I know when I came to Toronto that underneath those city lights (and out front of a Pizza Pizza) I would find my future husband.

And he wasn't Canadian.

Now, with a diploma in hand, I plan to move in January 2009 halfway around the world to a country that is also a continent and make my life there. I'll be planning a wedding that will take place in July and settling in. Who knew that when I first left the country I would continue to leave over and over again? This has sparked my wanderlust apparently.

And so Wednesday I made some tearful goodbyes to my city campus and my old favorite haunts (Futures and Hemingways). I will see them again someday and meanwhile, I will remember every day in Toronto fondly. I went there for an adventure and found it. All that was left was to receive my diploma and say goodbye.

But, like I said when I started this blog, from every ending comes a new beginning.

And once again, here's to new beginnings. Still under bright city lights.

Cell phones are an excuse for people to be rude

2008-01-30T21:34:00.001-05:00

It's true. I can't tell you how many people complain about the degradation of customer service--it's all "pretty soon we'll be talking to computers and not people"--and yet there are always a lot of people in my line at Wegmans talking away on cell phones. Half of them don't even acknowledge my existence. Some get off their phones. Other times people pick them up midway through the sale and them make me wait because they are too distracted to pay ot get our their ID for an alcohol sale.

But you know what, I can almost forgive those people. I don't know them and I really don't care about them. It's my friends that really drive me crazy. I go out with them and they spend half the night either on their phone, texting on their phone or checking their phone to see if they have a missed call--which seems highly unlikely since they leave the phone on the loudest ringtone possible and keep it on the table or bar in plain sight.

I've seriously watched my friend check her phone several times while I was talking. And then when it is her turn to talk, she's still checking her phone. Best part is, when they answer their phone, they leave you sitting by yourself for the next 20 minutes while they chat to someone. No, "I'll call you back" or "I am with someone." It really ruins the conversation and the entire concept of quality time. I feel like I would have a more meaningful and useful conversation with the wall.

I don't have a cell phone and many people who know me know that I am not very good at answering them. I tend to leave them in bags or on silent or in the other room where I can't hear them. Either way, I tend to miss more calls than I get. But, I can at least say that when I have one, I don't spend my night out with a friend on it. I give my friend my attention--unless the phone call is serious. And even then I cut it short.

In short, cell phones have given people a reason to be rude. Some one needs to write about cell phone etiquette. Perhaps someone should notify Miss Manners.

Long Time, New Year

2008-01-17T23:45:00.001-05:00

The more I have to do with photographs, the more I miss ships.

I have my thesis advisor. However, it is possible that I might need a new thesis.

Figaro gets bigger by the day, but he still plays with the same toy mouse.

I have been having chest pains. My life is so disorganized. I work about 30 hours a week and yet make about $150. It's pretty tiring I suppose. Maybe stressful. When I have down time, I usually worry about my next paper, deadline or shift.

And I'm supposed to be applying for jobs. Yet, I don't know what I want in a job anymore. I would like something that leaves me happy or satisfied, but more importantly, one to pay the bills.

I don't have a five year plan. I should have a five year plan. I have been having anxiety attacks because I am a couple of months away from being done with classes and yet I have no plan. None. I have some part time jobs and a bed at my mother's house, but no plan. I know I shouldn't wait, but I do. I wait for things to fall into laps, for people to get their acts together. It's me who needs to get my act together and find something anywhere in the continental US that will work for me. Because honestly, what else can I do?

Welcome 2008. Reality.

Old Writings...

2007-12-08T23:40:00.001-05:00

(disclosure: I'm not any good as a writer...my early apologies)

My body is covered in salt. I don't know what it is to love anymore, or what it is to be loved. I only know the coarse feeling of line against my calloused hands and the wet rain against my cheek. I know the passing of time only by the bells, the sun and the glittering stars. For 6 days rain has clouded the latter two. It has dampened both myself and the ship--the ship leaks and my spirit drowns in icy freshwater. The galley stove warms my toes and fingers in the day, but the nights leave me bitterly cold with only the Maine fog to encircle me as I try to drift to sleep. No one is there to talk to but the pictures of people that seem no more than a faded memory. Maine and the North Atlantic are a world away from them. My blood has been replaced with saltwater. And my last memory was fear that the anchor was dragged--the chain merely rubbed against the hauser, clanking angrily. Hell's half acre, eh? Some place to seek safe haven on a ship. I'll drift off after the scare into a restless sleep full of dreams that almost seem like omens of things to come--some to me and then others to those miles away. My fears and worries haunt me as the sea rocks me to sleep. I barely feel the churning of the ocean during the day as she tosses the ship. I merely think of my heartbeat and burning palms as I raise sail after sail. This is my first three-masted schooner. But the weather is grim and the air cold--I find no desire to sail anymore. I only desire a hot cup of tea and a warm bed to sleep in. Even my hair smells of salt. My fingers are covered with cuts and abrasions from galley knives and lobster claws. My back aches and my sunburn--very short-lived--fades away. I decided against a shower today. Yesterday wind and rain ravaged my body as I showered. The hot water was not enough to stop the Maine weather from taking hold of me. I thought the sea would love me as she always does, but I can only see her with a cold, unforgiving eye. I have no solace in her. I have no human for solace. I merely have the salt in my veins to remind me I'm alive and its bitter taste on my tongue to remind me I'm a sailor.

The scary thing is right now I wish I was still there. Something about staring at a bright full moon at 4am, pacing the deck of a sleeping ship and a still harbor. Even with all the misery of Maine, I'd trade this for it. I was sailing in the North Atlantic. I was doing something I loved no matter how lonely I felt. Now I'm lonely and doing something I'm not sure is right. I miss the taste of salt. I'm not the same without it.

Stress

2007-10-31T21:54:00.001-05:00

Well, now that I'm past ranting and hopefully back to rational. (Sorry! I did NOT break up with Shannon. That would be probably the worst decision in the history of my bad decisions. I'm extremely lucky to love and be loved by a man like him. And I digress, so I will stop myself there).

I'm just stressed. S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D. Stressed. There's just more weighing on me than I can handle at the moment. In situations when one more thing is added to the pile, I tend to...who knows. Not think. Overreact. My mother always say I have a flair for the dramatics. And it's even harder when I am not in control anymore. Right now, I feel like everything is out of my control. Which is likely NOT the case, but I feel it just the same.

I worry about school and finishing school and paying for school. I'm stressed with the heightened competition (I am not a competitive person, I am content with merely hard work). I struggle with feeling invisible most days. I struggle with finding another part-time job. I worry that I'll never see Shannon again--it hasn't even been two months, I cannot comprehend waiting a year to see him again. I shouldn't even be worrying that far into the future, but I can't help it. I want to be there.

As much as people tell me to enjoy my time here (which do not get me wrong, I do, it's good to be with family), I can't help feeling a little sad all the time. I just can't pretend things are the same as they were last time I lived at home. It's funny, the one person that would want me here the most, is the only person that understands that it's just going to take more time for me. And that's ok. Ah, mothers. I need her support right now.

Well, I guess this is pretty much the major update for now. It's true that in 31 minutes it will November 1st and NaNoWriMo starts (national novel writting month). And I will be on the marathon to write 50,000 words, do my homework, work, sleep and not go crazy. To be honest, I look forward to noveling. It is the escape I need right now.

Plus, there's nothing better than focusing your efforts on something constructive. I haven't written in a while. This will be good.

Blackberry Pie, Jobs, House Sitting, HP Robinson, Demachy and the FBI

2007-10-08T17:21:00.001-05:00

So, life has taken hold and sleep has started to take a back seat. The demands of life are certainly dragging me in other directions and as usual my bank account lives in the negative (the joy of being home). I went to the farmer's market a few weeks ago and picked up some blackberries for $1 a pack and I made a pie.

(picture of my masterpiece to come)

I haven't made one since I dated my first boyfriend. I made it and he broke up with me. Those events, of course, were not related, but it turned me off blackberry pie for a while. It's such a shame, because it really is good pie and I really love to bake.

I got a job working at the admissions desk of George Eastman House. It's not many hours, but it's a start. I applied for a full time job, but didn't get it. So my quest for a second job must continue. If I could just bring my working hours up to 40 or more a week, I could start making enough to pay bills and maybe save a little. Otherwise, it'll be YEARS before I can ever see Shannon again. Stupid money. Stupid bills. Stupid...well I find a lot of things are stupid.

It's not a hard job and I get to meet people from all over the world and talk photography, George Eastman and travel. All the things I love. Plus, I work with a very friendly crew and I love it. Nothing is better than good coworkers. And I get to see amazing photography from where I sit and occasionally on slow days the cafe bakes cookies and gives them to the staff (score!). It's nice to see another side of the museum and talk politics and get away from the "big shots" and talk to "normal" people. It gives me good inside.

I'm house sitting at Jenny's this weekend. At first, I was lonely, but it's turned out to be a lot better than I thought. I have pets to keep me company, heaps of food and no parent to ask me to do a million things--most times. The only crappy part is that it is a further drive from work. But it's been nice to have time to myself and it's also been nice to take the dogs for walks when I get home from work. I could get used to this doing things on my own. I've kept the house in top shape (did some laundry, cleaned the kitty litter boxes, did the dishes and even made dinner two nights in a row) and I've caught up on watching some movies. I have a kitty on my lap as I type.

Yes, there's always the danger of me becoming a cat lady. I'm just not sure I could tolerate the smell.

I did condition reporting on Friday morning for the TruthBeauty exhibit GEH is putting together and sending to Vancouver. It's a Pictorialist exhibition and YES, I've been priviledged to touch work I have only dreamed about. I am a particular fan of HP Robinson and we got to see some of his famous (and quite large) composite prints. I also got to do my very own condion report for a Demachy print, Stieglitz photogravure and several others. I can't possibly remember them all, but I was trying my hardest not to drool. And it was hard to pay attention to just yours when there were so many to look at! Somedays, I second guess my path in life, but I at least am excited to see some of the world's greatest photographs in a tiny little basement room without any glass between it and myself. It's an intimate as it sounds.

So, I was at work today and a man came in and pulled out a badge. Turns out he was an FBI agent doing an investigation and needed to know if a certain person was around. Random. I have to admit, I just stared at his badge in confusion and then sent him off to the security desk. That was probably the highlight of my day and I've been telling everyone.

Well, I guess that's all for now. I can't help but feel something is missing. I know I am in school and working and trying to do a million things at once, but I still feel as though there is one thing I am not doing. My life is a bit stagnant at the moment. And did I mention stressful? At least the weather here is unseasonably hot and humid (global warming?) and I am thankful for that. But I just wish everything would move along. I'm done with school. I'm done with Rochester. I want my own, adult life now.

That's all.

Installations, Acquisitions and too much Strongbow

2007-09-15T01:33:00.001-05:00

Studying at George Eastman House is going well. I finally made it through my first week of classes and now it's on to my first weekend of homework. If I could get a job there when I graduate, you better believe I'll take it and never leave. That's pretty much the only incentive I have to stay in Rochester. Otherwise, it's go where the jobs are.

I helped with the installation of the Lucha Libre exhibition that is opening next week. Mostly I installed hardware on the frames, but I got to use power tools. We all know that power tools are fun. Reckless fun. But of course, I used them responsibly.

I'm also working on helping to write up the acquisitions report for the October meeting. It involves mostly research on photographers and making write ups which explain why we acquired the work, who they are...that stuff. I'd love to give more into the inner workings of a museum, but most is confidential. So, I'm limited to little bits here and there that make little to no sense to anyone.

I like working with TMS, it's an easy interface. And the search queries require some imagination, of which I have a high supply. Yeah... I'm the geek that finds cataloguing and registration exciting. What a gripping life I do lead.

Actually, today I drove with Tess to Toronto. Where I proceed to have too much Strongbow. Now I have a tummy ache. But I blame it more on the amount of Tim Hortons consumed than Strongbow.

I didn't realize how much I missed Toronto. It was fun to be back for a bit despite the rain. But even a few months away I know it's not my place anymore. My friends aren't there and I'm technically homeless when I go. Rochester is my home now and I should try harder at settling in. My room is a disaster. More like a sea of plastic bags of trash, dirty clothing and little random belongings on every table top.

I really should settle in. It's been a while since I've stayed put more than 9 months. I'm a little tired of moving everywhere. It seems as though every time I finally move in, I have to pack up and leave. Since about 17 it's been like that. 16 if you want to count the fact that for 3 months out of the year I lived out of a duffel bag and slept on a bunk that smelled like mildew--those times I miss.

So, hopefully I'll get some stability as I catch a few hours of sleep before I get back to job hunting.

One more thing about my plane ride

2007-09-12T22:30:00.001-05:00

On my flight back from LA to Toronto (Toronto being the better city of course), I flew over the Hollywood sign and the Grand Canyon. It was so HUGE, even from almost 30,000 feet. Some things are so incredible from the sky. I am not sure how I will do in helicopters, but when I go back the Great Ocean Road, I'm definitely doing it. I can imagine the coastline would be incredible from the sky.

It's the only way to take it all in.

Last Days, Plane Rides and Jet Lag

2007-09-12T12:53:00.001-05:00

I left Adelaide over a week ago now. I haven't been in the US for a week yet. It seems strange to think that all of this started an ended in a great flurry of events--somewhere in there was a long middle. Life transitions too quickly.

I am sitting in the Portsmouth Building (used by students for classes and the computer lab) on the George Eastman Property. This is my second long day of classes. One more to go. I attend Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. It hardly seems real.

Not even two weeks ago I was spending my last day at the Library, rushing upstairs and downstairs in order to finish everything by 5pm and still staying until 6:30. There were lots of chats, afternoon coffee, a long lunch followed by a view of the Waterhouse exhibit. Mostly, there were several goodbyes and some tears once I finally stepped outside, a badge no longer around my neck. It felt real then.

It's hard to be gone now, good to be home with family and back into school, but still very hard. I'm not sleeping well yet and I wasn't eating much for the first few days. It's an adjustment and it won't be over in one week.

I keep going over my last day in Sydney. It was hard to think at the time I'd be so far away in just a day. In some ways, it made it easier to enjoy the time I had left with Shannon. We sat in a pub at Manly Beach, consuming our first big meal of the day of wedges and pizza while I savoured my last Coopers. We sat looking out a window at the beach and everyone passing. We chatted and stared out at the ocean; time stood a little still. We relaxed on the ferry ride back, watching as Sydney came into view.

I'm lucky to have come halfway around the world, not once, but twice to see the view. Many people never do.

In between packing, there were many tears. It's hard to talk about that without aching a little inside. Leaving at Sydney airport was nearly impossible, but the fact that I couldn't afford to pay for another ticket home was enough of an incentive to go.

The flight was a blur of movies, food and restless moments. I slept on the floor of LAX until they boarded my flight. I did not sleep much on my American flight back to Toronto. But, I remember very little of my car ride home. It was good to climb into bed. It was empty, but much better than the last 20+ hours in a plane seat.

And now, it's back to class to finish up the day before I can go home and lay down in bed, hopefully to get a quick nap. There is still much to say, but I have a very tired voice with little interest to say it.

Home is...

2007-08-23T06:51:00.001-05:00

That's the thing...where is home? I've lived so many places in five years, I feel part wanderlust, part displaced. I was thinking about it on the way home, as I watched the pink glow slowly fade to purple behind the Adelaide city buildings. I wondered where home was for me--if it is the first place I ever lived, then how have I lived displaced in life for so long? Even in Rochester my family has packed up and lived in six different homes--this does not include the places my father has lived. Does that mean that even in Rochester home is a place I no longer live?

Sometimes I miss home--or I feel that strong, nostalgic sensation that grips my heart strings and pulls just slightly at them. But it's never the same place. Sometimes I long for home in Washington DC. I remember the lights from the Capitol building as I head to my favourite Irish pub, or I remember the long walk from the Arts Center to the metro station. I even long for the cramped, sweaty rush hours rides on the metro cars, so I can run up the escalator steps to feel the cool rush of city air greet me at the top. Or the view of the city at night from the top of a building, where I climbed with my friends to escape the crowded loft below. Then DC feels like home to me.

But sometimes I miss the Corwith Cramer, a home where the scene was always changing. I remember the feel of her lines beneath my hands and I can hear the luffing of her sails. I can also smell the salt that enveloped us. I long to feel the wind from the bowsprit as I watch the sun set below an empty horizon. I miss the smell of pitch on my skin as I grasp rigging. I even miss my tiny, hot, dark bunk and its strange odour. Sometimes I feel like I would do anything to have it back.

Sometimes I miss Massachusetts. The runs along the beach where the cold winter wind would nearly knock me sideways. I miss the empty roads on Cape Cod, where I used to walk three miles to town (Woods Hole) just to have a coffee. I long to sit in Pie and the Sky and watch the ferry go out to Martha's Vineyard and see the gray winter ocean stretch out for miles. I miss the smell of old books in the Marine Biological Laboratories as I walked the stacks at midnight, waiting for a ghost to appear at any moment. I miss sunsets from the knob--the quiet alone time before heading back to campus to finish celestial navigation problem sets.

Often my nostalgia rests on Toronto, a place where being a foreigner never stopped me from feeling at home. I miss the long walks while the weather was still good. I even miss the 3am walk from Tess's to Shannon's down Bloor Street where we would stop for a few minutes at the U of T playing field to see the CN tower blinking in the distance. I remember late breakfasts at Futures and the first afternoon we could sit on the patio and soak in the city sounds. I miss the rush down the cold, snowy, icy streets with a book in hand to make it to the nearest coffee shop. Moments later, the two of us would be settled in with cups of coffee and I'd be pouring over a Jane Austen novel. Ben dragging us up the fire escape to have a better view of the city. Going after class for a chicken shawarma at La Zeez, especially after a boring lecture. I even miss the cold Saturday mornings, where I wake up and realize I can snuggle under the covers and go back to sleep.

Of course I miss Rochester--I grew up there. It's the beginning; the most important part of any story. Not always the most exciting, but certainly the most influential. I fell in love with photography because of Mr. Eastman and his house. I learned to love sailing and the water. I miss summer days with the hot deck burning my feet and the creaking of the fore boom in a light wind. I miss nights sitting at Schooners, sipping a cool drink and feeling the sunburn prickle underneath my light sweater. I miss white Christmases where I would stand outside staring at Christmas lights through the stillness of the night--so still that you felt you had to hold your breath. I miss the magic of the first crocus in Mom's garden--a promise of spring and the end of another school year. I miss walking the old railroad tracks just to see where they would end and getting lost in the process. I miss watching the tadpoles from Grandma and Grandpa's farm. It is a place I do not hesitate to call home.

But, as the months have flown by I find myself looking to Adelaide as home. I find myself comfortable and content in my workstation. I like my coworkers and often join them for morning tea (milk, two sugars). I look forward to lunches on the grass with Shannon, where we run to Woolies and then sit with our vegetables in the hot noon sun. I long for dinners at a restaurant on Rundle, where we can sit on the sidewalk and enjoy the mild weather. I love breakfast in North Adelaide at the Store. I will miss running around the Port, pointing in wonder at all the buildings I have seen in the photographs at work. I will miss walking to Cold Rock (same as Cold Stone) and then standing there unable to make a decision. I will miss late night walks with Shannon as we try to lose ourselves among the beautiful homes. I will miss Tim Tams, Lamingtons, Farmers Union iced coffee, wedges, tea time, cherry ripes, nutrigrain and blue lemon baguettes. I will miss my morning walk and my evening walk (probably the morning one a little less). I will miss the gum tree in the parklands were I watch rainbow lorikeets and galahs every morning while on my way to work.

Once I got over the fear and awkwardness of the unknown, I found myself at home--in all of these places. I look to each one as home and I carry each memory close to me. In a life where change is the only constant, I at least know that I have one more place to call home. And sometimes, when I have a spare moment, I like to let the nostalgia wash over me, so I can feel at home again.

The trouble with education is...

2007-08-15T03:08:00.001-05:00

...that I have to pay $120,000 back for it. It really makes you ask yourself "is my degree worth it?" Anything short of a Harvard degree is not. Yet, there's the reality I'm faced with. And with interest rates at a MINIMUM of 7.5% (some are 8.5%) I'll be paying a total of $390,000 back within 30 years. That's over a quarter of a million dollars for an education. And those payments are going to be around $2,000 a month when I graduate. When the average graduate in my field makes maybe $2,400 - $3,000 you see where the problem lies.

At least I am not alone. All of American college graduates are getting screwed. Read the old USA Today article. It made me cry. But the reality is my debt will be unmanageable.

It's making me wonder if all my life choices were wrong. It terrifies me to accept that the rest of my life will be spent paying off these loans and of course not contributing to retirement. What retirement? I won't own a home, I've come to accept that. I'll sell my car as soon I as I can so someone else can take over loan payments. Once I graduate, I'll have to cut back traveling for several years. If I ever get married it'll be a City Hall wedding ($10,000 could really help with loan payments) and I know that the rest of my life will be punctuated by loan debt.

When I was 18 years old, I didn't think about this. Someone should have warned me. I shouldn't have gone to school. I shouldn't have come to Australia. I shouldn't have gone to graduate school.

The point is I have. Now I realize I have to face the consequences and work to pay the $120,000 back by the time I am 55. Maybe then I can save for 20 years for a possibility of retirement.

I can't help thinking the government should have warned us. Someone should have warned us.

Australian Cuisine

2007-07-14T05:52:00.001-05:00

Someone at the library asked me the other day if there were any foods I miss from the States. I thought about it for a while and this was the list I came up with:

- Sweet Potato fries and the cajun mayo from Hemingways
- A La Zeez's chicken schwarma
- a frozen yogurt from yogun fruz

Ironically, all of these things come from specific places in Toronto. I have been thinking a little harder for an AMERICAN food that I miss and I came up with Root Beer: for root beer floats, called spiders here.

But, Australian food, now there's a thing or two that I've become attached to. If you've known me in the past 5 years, you know that I am obsessed with Tim Tams and Cherry Ripes. I still am. I think that the US needs to get on the ball and start importing them so I can satisfy my fix.

I've also become obsessed with wedges with sour cream and sweet chili sauce. Wedges, are bigger than chips and season to perfection. Dipped in sour cream and sweet chili sauce, it is the perfect meal...whenever. After a few beers, for lunch, to satisfy PMS. Best food ever.

Meat pies. Aussie meat pies are so good. I can't explain to you how good they are. Just watch our for the steak and kidney. I thought it meant kidney beans, but it means kidney as in the organ. I will just stick the original Aussie meat pies. You can't go wrong with them.

Lamingtons. Such a good dessert. It's a sponge cake covered in chocolate and coconut. So good. It's scary how good it is.

Nutri-Grain. Possibly the best cereal on earth. And actually healthy for you. No breakfast is complete without it.

I'm going to feel empty without these things. I will have to look for other substitutes when I get back. Or else just plan to relocate until I have my fill of these things.

How to Speak Like an Aussie: Part I

2007-07-12T06:24:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago Jenny expressed her worry that I would come back and be speaking "Aussie speak." In light of this travesty, I thought I would include a translation guide--in case anyone else was worried they wouldn't be able to comprehend me when I return.

Most people have heard about putting "chooks on the barbie," meaning "chickens on the barbecue". If you haven't, now you have. Almost everyone that has spoken to me in the past 8 months has heard that "heaps" has replaced "a lot." But here's a list of some more that I might throw out in conversation.

Bottle-O: replaces the term liquor store, but that same thing. Although many Bottle-Os have a drive-thru. That's something the USA certainly doesn't boast...and we have drive-thru everything else.

Rock up: Instead of saying "show up." For example, "They might rock up later" or "she rocked up at the bar later." For a long time I thought it was "ruck up" and thought it was a term that came from rugby...

Dunny: The outdoor toilet and heaps of them exist. I used one all weekend in KI. I had a great view of the water as I did my business.

Biscuit: It is used for crackers and cookies. Sometimes shortened to "bickies." Don't make the mistake of saying cookies again....

Bogan: Our version of the term "hick." These kind of people are from the back water. You know the kind I speak of.

Tea: Not just what you drink, but also replaces the term "supper" or "dinner." I am often confused with this one.

Dero: A derelict or bum. You can also call "wiggers" deros or pretty much applies to any loser. Generally they are broken or run-down in some way. As Shannon says, like a derelict building.

Yiros: Gyros. Why they write it differently...I don't know.

Mackers: What they call McDonalds for short. Much like our Mickie D's or Mac Do's.

Chips: This applies to fries. But there are also large chips called wedges. Potato chips are either called chips or crisps...depending. Chips are way better than fries and wedges are HEAVEN.

Barrack: What we would say "to root" when we root for our favourite team. Here "root" means "sex" so things get a little messy if you use the work. Stick to barrack. I barrack for Port. Thanks to Shannon.

Chuffed: HAPPY

Stuffed: used for tired. I'm pretty stuffed right now actually.

Servo: The place where you go to get PETROL, not "gas." Much like our "gas stations," you can get all sorts of other goodies at the servo, like gourmet coffee.

Salvo: Salvation Army. Sounds similar to Servo so sometimes I get a momentarily confused.

Chemist: You don't go to the pharmacy or drug store. You just DON'T.

Capsicum: Green pepper, red pepper. We often call them bell peppers. Yeah, those.

Sultanas: Sultana Bran? We'd call it raisin bran, but not here. It's strictly all about sultanas, though they are the same thing. The name doesn't change the taste in my opinion.

Chuck a spaz: Throw a "shitfit" or just throw any kind of fit actually.

So much for English-Speaking being the same....

9-10: Clare and Barossa Wine Valleys

2007-07-12T06:09:00.002-05:00

Before heading back to Adelaide, Shannon's parent took the two of us on a wine tasting trip through the Clare and Barossa wine valleys. Most people have heard of the Barossa. South Australia makes famous wines and many of them are at your local liquor store, so go support South Australia now and buy a bottle or four. I enjoy SA shiraz very much. I'm learning to like it almost as much as chianti classico.

On our first day we stopped at Sevenhill winery in the Clare Valley. The winery was started by some Jesuit priests in 1851. They make good wine. And there's a church on the site. It was too busy for wine tasting, so we spent our time walking around.

Inside the church, there were some people practicing Gregorian chants. So amazing. And you know churches have good acoustics, so it's bound to send chills down your spine.

Ah, the Barossa, amidst some rain clouds. But who doesn't love to see acres of grape vines and lush green grass? The view was just as amazing as all the wines we tried. And we ate some great cheese as well.

The last winery we went to, Grant Burge. It had amazing gardens.

There are heaps of ruins throughout the countryside. So many beautiful abandoned old homesteads. This wasn't the most beautiful, but I liked it because it was nestled among the grape vines.

I really love wine tasting. Free wine and I improve my palette. Not to mention, I just have the opportunity to learn what I like and what I don't. And did I mention free wine? As my first wine tasting experience, it was certainly a wonderful time. And through incredible country. This certainly beats the Napa valley in my opinion. I am a fan of the rich tasting reds that come from South Australia.

6-9 June: Whyalla

2007-06-26T07:35:00.002-05:00

After our first night in Adelaide, Shannon and I returned our little rental car and headed out on a bus for Whyalla. Whyalla is about 4 or so hours away from Adelaide and much more arid. It's where Shannon grew up.

On our bus ride, we saw part of the Flinders Ranges. Some of the oldest mountains in the world. They werew beautiful, I would love to go back and see them.

Whyalla from a look out point. I enjoyed my few relaxing days there despite my cold. I really like Shannon's family. We went out to dinner the first night and then Shannon and I spent most of our days watching movies. We're such bums.

Shannon's dog, Wulfie. He has another dog, Cody as well. They're really funny, especially since Wulfie picks on Cody because he has to hog all the attention. But, I like them both. I don't play favourites. After all, I don't even play favourites with my cats. Actually, Mr. Gladstone passed away while I was in Whyalla--that was a bit of a day ruiner. Poor thing. But I don't want to talk about it here.

The steelworks around sunset. Everything around there was red, from the dirt to the road. Most of these photos are compliments of a Nikon D200 that I was able to borrow from Mr. Mason. Amazing camera. So nice of him to let me borrow it. Now I have something to save my pennies for.....when I get all my debt paid. By then of course it will be a Nikon D2000 or something like that.

Shannon's parent's house. It's not where Shannon grew up, but they moved not all that long ago. It has a pool, but it was too cold to swim. Winter. Everyone back in North America, you can stop gloating now, winter will be back in a few months. Granted, that will be my 3rd winter in a row and I might not make it.

The view from his house. Just past those trees you can see the ocean, but it didn't turn out so well in the photograph. Well, it makes for a nice view, you'll have to take my word for it.

Look, something very Aussie: a kangaroo. I've since many more since then (and wallabies too), but at that point I hadn't sen a single one so I was pretty chuffed. Still am. They were a bit scrappy looking, but this one looks pretty good from the photo.

Shannon and I walked Wulfie and Cody to the foreshore one afternoon. It was a crazy windy day, but those waves are tiny. You can see the mangroves in the background and out to Mt. Laura. There was heaps of seaweed on the beach, so I opted to look, not touch.

Looking back, the trip seemed longer when I was there, now it seems to have flown by. After welcoming Shannon into my home and life, it was nice to have him reciprocate. It's special meeting family and seeing where a person grew up. You feel closer to them somehow, as though you received a glimpse into their past. For a split second you can pretend you are a part of it.

And then life goes on. And you go wine tasting.

5 June: The Great Ocean Road

2007-06-26T07:12:00.001-05:00

Our last day on the Great Ocean Road.

We started our morning at the Cape Nelson Lighthouse. We were the only two there, but it's a pretty sweet lighthouse. It was nice to bypass all the tourist stuff. The museum was closed for renovations but the lighthouse grounds were still open to the public. So we wandered around and headed back on the road.

Our next stop was Estuary Beach where the water was slightly warm and we ran around barefoot, climbing sand dunes and collecting seashells, while staring out at the crazy pelicans that we couldn't figure out how to get to.

The sand dunes were unreal and led to a beautiful ocean beach as well. I love that all over Australia there are just beautiful spots that haven't been over-commercialized like many have in the US. Or at least it seems easier to find them and for almost an hour be the only ones on a massive beach. Not to mention you can leave your shoes behind and they are still there when you get back.

We saw a lot of rainbows on our trip. This one is on the hill in Mt. Gambier. It doesn't go over, but go IN to Blue Lake, which is actually and old crater from a dormant volcano. Pretty cool. The rainbow is much cooler, which appeared as we were jumping out of the car. Since I have been in Adelaide, I have seen two on my way to work. Before that, at least four or five. Australia must be lucky.

This is why they call it Blue Lake. This isn't the bluest it gets. That's in October or November for a few days. But it was incredible. After our stint in Mt. Gambier and getting rained on, we headed for Adelaide. It was strange to finally reach the city we'd been journeying too, but I wasn't sure I was ready to leave the Great Ocean Road behind.

4 June: Great Ocean Road

2007-06-26T06:42:00.001-05:00

It was mostly cloudy and raining at sunrise, but we made the most of it. It was still another breathtaking experience.

Then we slept at a petrol station until it opened and then got petrol, slept some more and went inside to have coffee and some meat pies to warm ourselves up. The sun came out so we went to the Otway treetop walk. You walk in the rainforest among the trees, it's high up. There are only three like it in the world, all in Australia--this is the highest. It was great, but a little scary.

We decided to head back, since the Otway Fly was actually backtracking. We set out for the 12 Apostles again. It was raining again after a brief reprieve. But I took heaps of photographs (this one...doesn't do my OCD justice). Then we drove on.

We stopped at the Loch Ard gorge, named for the wreck of the ship the Loch Ard, which killed all but two of the about 84 or so on board there.

It looks a lot better from the beach than it would from the water. There is a reason it is called the 'Shipwreck Coast.' It's a dangerous coastline, where hundreds of ships met their end. Many of them I read about or scan photos of for work.

There was a graveyard for the victims of the wreck as well (at least for those who had bodies recovered) and one for everyone. It was really sad and eerie, yet peaceful among the wind and tall grass. It was strange how quiet and empty it felt out there on the coast. So much of it is a national park that it seems virtually untouched at times.

The entrance to Thunder Cave that leads to the blowhole. So loud and it rumbled as we walked down close to it. In the rain and wind, the water was so rough, it make the landscape even more wild and un-tameable. And slightly slippery and terrifying. Absolutely perfect.

The blowhole, from up above. More examples of limestone erosion. It's over a 100 metres to the cave entrance and the ocean, but if you fell in, you would die.

The Bay of Islands. You can find these formations almost anywhere along the coast, but you can only scream "stop the car!" so many times. And we had to get to Portland before dark to get a motel room somewhere inexpensive.

But, sometimes cattle crossing the road cause delays. Oh well. We got to Portland, got a room, got really bad fish fry and went to bed early. One more day and then it's on to Adelaide!

3 June: The Great Ocean Road

2007-06-26T06:24:00.002-05:00

I will tell you now, I don't think much compares to the beautiful, rugged, limestone landscape of the Great Ocean Road. Not to mention it's just fun to drive. I knew I got up early for a reason, I was excited to begin the adventure in our little Hyundai Getz.

She's small and black, but as you can see, she was cute and home for three days. While I did drive on the left side of the road, Shannon did most of the driving. I did the navigating--I can officially say most people would get lost if it weren't for my navigation skills.

Bells Beach, the first stop just before the Great Ocean Road officially begins. We had to stop to watch the surf and the crazy surfers off that point trying to catch a wave. Even on a cold day, it was beautiful.

A typical view from out the window. You can see the road winding around the mountain. That's only ONE of the many shots I took while Shannon drove. The coastline was amazing and continued to appear from behind all the turns and hills. I was constantly in awe of the beauty.

One moment beaches and suddenly, it looks like we're in England with the green rolling hills. It constantly oscillated between the two scenes. It rained a lot on and off too, but that didn't dampen our sense of adventure...

Along the GOR is Otway National Park known for waterfalls and rainforests. Sadly, we didn't see waterfalls, but we saw heaps of rainforests. This is along the Maits Rest Walk and it was certainly rainy and beautiful. We were among some extremely old beech trees, which was incredible.

The reason they call it the Limestone coast, the constant erosion going on makes it beautiful. Thank god for limestone, eh? And these would be the 12 Apostles at sunset. We just made them in time. The first of three. It beautiful to walk along the path, listening to the sound of the waves and suddenly......there they appear, as if out of thin air below you. And you suddenly witness the passage of time and the feeling of eternity all at once. One day will be gone, but more will appear as wind and the ocean work their magic.

Wow. That's all I really had to say.

The visitor centre after dark. It was cold by the time we got to the car and then we drove to a nearby beach town called Port Campbell. It was tiny with one main street. But, we found on cafe still open and had some pizza, wine and heaps of water. I was so thirsty and it was so wonderfully warm in there. We decided to sleep in the car, but had to dodge down a creepy side street to sleep because the cops were doing laps around the main road, and we felt we'd be in trouble for sure.

Even worse, I had to pee from all the water and wine, so we had to keep driving the beach house. Thankfully, they left the bathrooms unlocked by the foreshore. We made several trips that night.
We gave up sleep about 5:30am and decided to drive back for sunrise to the 12 Apostles. First we got lost, then we got there....and stared at the Southern Cross until the sun came up.

2 June: Melbourne

2007-06-26T06:06:00.001-05:00

This brings us to my last full day in Melbourne and I had a laundry list of things to see before 5pm (after that you lose the light and there's no sense in taking photographs). So, we started that day at the market getting breakfast and buying Shannon new sneakers. Then we headed out to the place I'd been dying to see. The old Melbourne Gaol--I suppose I should clarify that 'gaol' is pronounced 'jail' but I can't tell you why they just don't spell it j-a-i-l and be done with it.

That's the real death mask of Ned Kelly. It was the reason I went there. He died there and of course he's a legend in Victoria. If you don't know who Ned Kelly is, you ought to read up on him. If you're Irish, you'll really find reasons to love him. And if you're not it's just a good old story of an outlaw becoming a hero, even in death.

Okay, so I have a slightly unhealthy obsession and took several photos of his mask. I'll bore you with only one.

The gallows where Ned Kelly was hung and where they continued to hang people until I believe 1975, give or take a year. Pretty eerie. The place was cold, clammy and felt like death. But...that's where Ned died...so in my own special way, I had to make the pilgrimage to it.

Next stop was Captain Cook's cottage. It was actually built in England, by his father and Cook never actually lived in it--they built it after he joined the Navy. But it's cool just the same. First of all, it was dismantled by England, shipped to Australia and then reassembled according to plans. They numbered each stone. How crazy is that? So technically, the British just dumped their historical treasures on Australia, but I rather enjoy it.

The cottage is located in Fitzroy gardens and I really liked it there. We continued on our walk because we saw a sign for a model tudor village and we thought going inside more period homes would be great. But...this is what we found instead....

ACTUAL model homes, about a foot high. While it was funny, we should have taken the sign literally....

After it got dark, we decided to enjoy the many city malls in Melbourne. This cone and building is in the centre of one. We waited there before going to see Pirates 3. Where, in the movie, we were ASSIGNED SEATS. Yeah, like going to a play, apparently they follow similar rules for the movies. How strange is that? Well, after that it was time to call it a night. Our next leg was about to begin...

1 June: Melbourne (My Birthday)

2007-06-20T07:08:00.002-05:00

Ah, the most important day of the year...my birthday! The big 23 and I'm in Melbourne sharing it with my boyfriend. Well, I miss everyone at home, but how many times do you get to say your birthday was in Australia? Unless you live there of course. Well, we didn't sleep in long in our hostel, because I get excited on my birthday. First, Shannon took me to the Queen Victoria Market, and it's the best place in the world! It's like a farmers market, deli, craft fair, cheap shopping centre, bakery and the best way to blow a day.

This is the entrance to the markets. It seems to go on forever with heaps of stalls. I got UGGs for my birthday from Shannon. Cheap UGGs, but the real ones. They look GREAT! Anyways, I went back every day, and wished I bought more. I should have gone souvenir shopping, but sorry, I haven't. I'm not even sure how I feel about that kitschy stuff anymore....

DUCKLINGS! Yes, they sold wildlife...including pigeons and budgies, which are the cutest little birds ever, but sooo noisy. I really think that market was the best part of Melbourne and our hostel was only blocks from it. After we did our morning shopping, we went to a park and feasted on my birthday lunch. We ate hummus, bread, turkey, cheese, mandarins and of course wine...all in the middle of the day in a lush green park. It was such a good meal.

We finished the meal off with a trip to the Melbourne Aquarium. It wasn't as exciting as I thought, but it was my birthday, so I enjoyed it. I bought my only present so far, a magnet for Grandma--one of the most important people in my life, so she deserved the first present.

So, the big excitment of the night was our walk to the MCG, the Melbourne Cricket Grounds. It's not cricket season, but it is Footy Season, AFL. The Australian rules football. A different sport indeed, I can't describe it to you, you just have to see it for yourself. But it was great and those were the teams that played, Collingwood won. Hometown win.

Look at the boys in action. With short shorts. The yellow ball is the footy ball. I don't remember what happened, but it was an exciting game.

As you can see, I fully support footie now and am enjoying my birthday heaps despite how cold it was at the MCG. I had just bought that hat at the QV market earlier that day and it really came in handy for that game. The markets are good for everything. And footy makes Aussie's drink, eat meat pies and scream A LOT.

We finished off the night with some gyros at an all night place called Stalagmite. It was heaps busy, but we ate and then headed out because it was after 11pm and we were buggered. What can I say? Jet lag!

Thus concludes my birthday....

31 May: Melbourne

2007-06-20T05:04:00.001-05:00

Melbourne: 8am. After a long bus ride through moonlight bush and a cold run to a bathroom that was outdoors and out of heating or hot water for my hands. There was nothing better to come to than a raining, busy, cold city. And a hotel without a room ready. To be honest, it rained most of the day and so when our room was ready I spent most of it sleeping in a king-sized bed. These pictures are from other days, but show the evening walk I took with Shannon.

Melbourne is known for its tram system. This is one of the old trams traveling around the city centre. I did not ride one, but I thought that there should be a picture of one.

The Yarra River and some colourful buoys in it. Behind them is the yellow building known as Flinders Station. There's a lot of great walking along the Yarra, especially with all the shops on the south bank.

A wide shot of the Yarra river and a great reflection. When Melbourne isn't raining, it really isn't that bad. So, I admit due to the inclement weather on the 31st, we got off on the wrong foot.

Southgate is a really big shopping centre on the south bank of the Yarra. There's a lot of great restaurants there as well. Shannon and I went to La Camera (an Italian joint) to celebrate my birthday early. We enjoyed some wine and chicken risotto and a view of the river. Then a walk to walk off the risotto and gelato dessert.

Almost every major city seems to be getting a ferris wheel. Melbourne is right along with them. I didn't get to ride it, but I did take lovely photos of it. Mostly because I was on the wrong side of the river.

Sunset over the CBD of Melbourne. Some of my best photos came out of Melbourne. After supper we went back and I managed to fall asleep quickly. I guess at this point jet lag caught up with me rather quickly. I also wanted to be ready to enjoy my 23rd birthday to its fullest.

30 May: Canberra

2007-06-19T08:09:00.002-05:00

One day was not enough for Canberra. We didn't get off the bus until almost noon, so we didn't have enough time to visit any galleries or museums. Instead, we went to Parliament after walking around.
The Lake Burley Griffin. Complete with a 24 hour big fountain and accompanying rainbow. It was a cold day, but the walk made the view worth it. Canberra is higher elevation, so usually colder than other places throughout the year. It felt a little like late fall and everyone was bundled up in big jackets. Even I wished I had thought of a jacket.

Captain Cook memorial. It's a really cool memorial, but as you might be noticing, there is a very large Cook theme in Australia. Like Columbus, he didn't technically find it. Obviously the Aboriginals were there first and then Dutch sailors founded the North shores. I suppose Cook's claim to fame is he did map the big Southern blob on the map, thus putting Australia officially down on paper for the Western world. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy. I just find it amusing.

The Magna Carta Place monument. The "symbol of freedom." I guess the document still applies to them since they are a part of the commonwealth. As you will come to see, they highly value and treasure it. Seriously.
The new Parliament building. Where Shannon and I went in and were met by very FEW and very FRIENDLY guards. Nothing like in the US. There was only one officer standing out front of the Parliament. I figured it was because no one important war around. Turns out I was wrong. We went to sit in on Q&A in the House of Representatives so I could see the Liberals and Labor Party duel head to head like high schoolers (and believe me they do...it's rather amusing). But I got to see Prime Minister John Howard as well!

First, I fully admit he looks just like Dick Cheney. In fact I asked Shannon who the Cheney look alike was. Second, he never answered a single question. I mean he talked, but it was always about something else totally irrelevant. Actually, he talked about how great the Clinton administration was for reducing the debt. Had to agree with the little man on that one.

THE MAGNA CARTA! Well, the 1297 version. Sealed in...I believe halogen? One of the inert noble gases. How cool is that? anyways, they purchased it in 1952 for about 12,500 pounds. As of 2006 is was worth AUS$15 million. Less than the $40 million it was worth. But technically, I'd consider it priceless. I also saw the desk where Queen Victoria signed the bill in 1901 called the Commonwealth of Australia Constitution Act (UK). Go Queen Vicki!

I'll admit it, I feel as though the trip to Canberra made me a very patriotic Australian. And even though I'm not Australian, at least I could feel proud for a country that is not my own. Technically. But, I take a far greater interest in their politics because, let's face it, I'm sucker for stories about commonwealths.

For starters, they're all about federation and not freedom we Americans gawk on and on about. It's funny what those words mean to different people and yet how both of them in some respect represent the same thing. Only one was a bill signing and the other a bloody revolution. Oh, to have been a colony.

29 May: Sydney

2007-06-19T05:43:00.002-05:00

Our final day in my favourite city in Australia. This day was highlighted by are trip to the National Maritime Museum. Although I must warn you, we never went inside. We paid only to go see all the boats outside. We didn't have time for both, so if you know me, you know which I chose.

We actually first road the monorail and on our way we managed to find the Chinese Friendship garden we were looking for the day before. Apparently it's at the end of Cockle Bay in Darling Harbour, a short walk from the maritime museum. What luck. So, we toured that in the morning, hoping we'd have time for everything that day.
The gardens were beautiful, though there were little bugs there constantly trying to bite me. That was not cool. the Friendship Garden was donated by Guangzhou, Sydney's sister city, in 1984.
There were some really great views around the garden and you could almost ignore the city buildings in the background.The HMAS Onslow. It was a cool submarine. And it turns out, I am short enough to fit in the head and the shower! Shannon, sadly is too tall. We also saw the HMAS Vampire, an Australian Destroyer, but I don't have any great pictures of it. It smelled a little bad and was definitely built in 'dated' decor. Like maybe 50's or 60's. Turquoise and orange and awful chairs.
The bell of the Endeavour. A replica of the ship that Captain Cook sailed on his first exploration voyage, to places like Tahiti and yes, Australia. It was soooo cool. We had a tour of the ship and even got to see the cabin where Cook would have lived. I am such a geek; I had a great time.
The Endeavour from the stern. She looks so small, but she smelled like pitch. I love the smell of pitch.
The James Craig, now used as a sail training vessel, it used to be a cargo ship that carried all sort of cargo from watermelons, logs and cow poop. Now they take people out on day sails in good weather and do company events.
The night sky over Manly beach. Shannon and I didn't make it for the day time. When we took the ferry to Manly, we got off and saw the smallest beach ever. We were like "this isn't the Manly we've read about." After finding a map, we found that it was on the other side of Manly, opposite the ferry terminal...where the PACIFIC Ocean would be. Hmm...somehow logical. It was BEAUTIFUL. And cool in the salty wind. Plus it was a full moon, so I managed to get these cool pictures, but none of the beach.

In warm weather, it looks like the perfect place to bum around. Everyone was out on the boardwalk taking a walk and houses were beautiful. Best part? It's just a 20-30 minute ferry ride from the Sydney CBD. Not a bad commute to work I suppose, to live in a place like that. After the trip to Manly, we crawled back to the hostel and went to bed. The next morning we were heading to Canberra.

28 May: Sydney

2007-06-18T04:39:00.001-05:00

Jet lag woke me up at 6am. We checked out of our hotel and after hitting up the wrong YHA, we found our hostel and checked in. So, once we dropped our bags, we wasted no time heading out to Hyde Park and the Botanical gardens for a look around. The weather in Sydney was by far the best weather Shannon and I had all trip--I am sad to say that Australia does get cold and rainy.
The ANZAC memorial in Hyde Park. It was really beautiful and quiet inside. And it was a really warm day too! I didn't need a jacket for most of it. Which, now that I am in Adelaide, is extremely rare.
A fountain in Hyde Park. It had a lot of great sculptures around it. Including little fish and turtles that were spouting out lots of water.
My FIRST Bundaberg Ginger Beer. Much more refreshing than Jamaican ginger beer. We drank it for lunch in the park and I felt compelled to document the occasion. This was moments before I made the mistake of causing throwing a piece of bread I didn't want away, only to find myself surrounded by more than 20 very hungry birds. It seemed as though it was either me, or the bread.Some of the Botanical Gardens in Sydney. And by some , I mean only one of the MANY photos I took. Since this was one of the few landscape shots and the rest were of plants or flowers, I decided to go with one that would set the mood.I did find this photograph crazy. Up in almost all the high trees of the botanical gardens were little shrieking flying foxes. Hundreds of them. If I didn't think they were cute, I might have been grossed out. They were so loud, they drowned out even the sounds of the nearby highway. If you've heard one bat, times that by more than 2oo. That's what is sounded like.As we were taking a walk on Mrs. Macquaries Point, just past the gardens, I came upon the view in the late afternoon sun. Having the sun set at 5pm was NOT okay. It still isn't okay. The sun is rising when I get up and setting by the time I leave work. I'm warning everyone now, if I get back to the States and want to sit in a tanning bed all day, it's just because I haven't seen much of the sun in almost a year. By the time I see it again...it will have a been a year and a half.

But otherwise? Australia is great. Though everything that was such a novelty before is merely mundane. Except for things like Tim Tams. And kangaroos.
The Sydney CBD (or downtown as you might call it. It stands for 'Central Business District.' Pretty intuitive). It's a pretty view from the gardens.
Shannon and I from the end of the point overlooking Port Jackson. We finished the day off with a trip to the Opera House, but declined taking a tour, because after all that walking we were pretty buggered.
That didn't stop us from taking a million photographs though. This is just one of the Opera House that I particularly enjoy. Though, theres about 10 others I could have bored you with.

After we went back to our hostel at Central Station, we went and met up with Shannon's friend from home, Steven. He took us out to the Rocks to this place called 'Pancakes on the Rocks.' Not only is it open 24 hours, it serves pancakes and crepes, all kinds! Sweet and savory. It was great and it was a fun night minus the part where we got lost on the train and had an hour delay. I was STARVING by the time we to to tea (tea meaning dinner or supper here....forgive me for trying to assimilate).

After a Starbucks to round out our evening, it was an early night.

27 May: Sydney

2007-06-17T03:10:00.001-05:00

When my 747 finally landed in Sydney, I was relieved. The adventure was about to begin. Of course I wouldn't actually leave the airport for another hour--after my bags had been checked and I had cleared immigration. I fumbled my way with three heavy bags to an atm to get some Australian cash and to the train. I managed to get to my hotel without a problem and have the concierge take my bags to my room.

There is nothing better with 5-star service after you've traveled over 12,000 miles. Granted, the next day it was replaced with a hostel, but it was there when I needed it. I spent most of the day before Shannon arrived looking for a cell phone and wandering the city aimlessly.
Circular quay and a view of the harbour bridge in the background. It's in the Rocks area, the oldest area of Sydney.
I know you have all been waiting to see it. So here you go, the opera house, in all her mid-day glory. From Dawes Point. Of all the places I visited, Sydney had the best weather. Until we left of course, and now terrible rains and flooding are gripping New South Wales.
Port Jackson and a great sailboat race. What I love about Sydney is Port Jackson. I think it's one of the best places in the world to own a boat and go sailing every day.
After Shannon arrived, we went out to celebrate the beginning of our trip. We ate an outdoor restaurant in circular quay. This was the view from our table. We had too much wine, or at least after jet lag a bottle becomes too much. How I kept my hand steady, I don't know.

And the Opera House all lit up. We made it an early night, but it was the best night. Good food, good Australian wine and a view to die for. Not to mention sleeping in a real bed instead of an airplane seat. While I admire Qantas on their food, movies and service--nothing compares to a hotel bed after sleeping in coach. I would have slept on a floor and been happier.

The 'Canadian' Intern

2007-06-15T22:56:00.001-05:00

So after paying our respects to the Queen's Birthday (perks of living in the commonwealth I suppose), I went in on Tuesday 12 June for the first day of my internship. I didn't have to arrive until 10am that morning, a mess of nerves, knowing I had to look for Beth. This would have been much easier had I known what Beth looked like or even sounded like. Instead, I just walked in and stood there, hoping I'd notice her.

Proved easier than I thought. She noticed me standing off to the side and we immediately walked up to each other. We introduced ourselves and went off to begin the orientation. She's a lovely woman and I am glad to be working for her and the rest of the State Library team. Honestly.

She took me back into the staff area and immediately gave me my swipe badge. It's on a blue lanyard--blue is for staff and red is for volunteer. This in itself is a BIG deal. She said they were going to treat me like staff while I am here--which was really flattering. I also saw my workstation for a hot second and was whisked off to meet with Kris. He is in charge of the fieldwork students--which I am technically not, since fieldwork students only stay for three weeks, not three months. He gave me my orientation of the entire building.

Most importantly, he showed me where the coffee and tea were kept. Before I left I signed some administrative papers and was given a list of all the different institutions I'll be taking field trips to about once a week. It breaks up all the work I am doing with something educational and fun. Because you know, people like me find vaults in basements heaps of fun. Most people think we're strange. Maybe lack of light gets to us over time.

Day two I came in and learned about scanning photos from the conservation group. We stopped promptly at 11am for a tea break. And then again at 3pm for more tea. I am going to leave Australia all tea-d out.

Day three I completed my training by learning how to make bibliographic records for the library's South Australiana database. Then I was left to begin my task. My LARGE task. I've been put in charge of the AD Edwardes collection of shipping photographs. They range from about 1865 to 1920 and there are 91 volumes of over 8,000 photographs. I'd venture a guess of over 9,000. I'll be lucky to get through 10 volumes. But I've made it my goal. I scan each photo and then make a bibliographic record for it.

It's time consuming work considering I am working on a Mac G4 running OS 9.2 (remember when Apple had a coloured apple logo? Yeah I see that every day in the top left corner of my screen. The program is also sometimes called OS 'Classic' that generally denotes old in age). I also get to use photoshop 7.0. All state of the art, but at least it's my own.

Working for the State Library of South Australia is better than working for any "normal" library. For starters, the State Library is NOT a public library. They do not lend out books. They must be used there. Second, they are big into family history and shipping research. Third, the State Library also acts as an archive for all unpublished works (as well as all published) having to do with South Australia. Their scope is ridiculously large and they care for everything from letters, to photographs, to maps and even oral history audio files. They are exciting to work for because they are constantly collecting.

Furthermore, like many institutions, they are in the early years of their digitisation process. I am the only person in the library that does both digitising and archiving them by making bibliographic records. It's interesting to see how well I am actually being trained from my program. Money well borrowed and spent.

Since I have been here there's been talk of jobs and making contacts and yes, Australian men--they also constant confuse me for a Canadian and I find myself only bothering to correct them half the time. One day, a Canadian warned me that if I met an Australian man, I'd marry him and never go home--of course, that's because it happened to her. I blushed and said I already had a boyfriend. She smiled and asked me where he was from. I smiled and replied, "Australia." Apparently, all hope is lost for me....

I am working on a photo album for pictures from my trip. I also promise over the next week I will post several back entries about my adventure through Oz. But, as work leaves me exhausted at the end of the day, I usually find my brain numb to the thought of updating.

Hopefully this will change with the more tea I ingest.

22 hours of flying and a view of the Opera House

2007-05-27T21:07:00.001-05:00

After two flights and sleeping through one of those precious Qantas meals, I arrived safetly in Sydney. I don't have much time to update on the things I have been doing, because I have only traveled around the city to take pictures on my own yesterday. I passed Darling Harbour, the Bridge, the Rocks, Dawes Point and the Opera House. I dined with Shannon when he arrived at an outdoor cafe near the Opera House, enjoying a view of the bridge and a bottle of Australia Red.

Jet lag caught up with us midway through the bottle and we stumbled around the Opera House and back to the hotel. Today, we got up and checked out and are now at a hostel. This is my first time at a hostel, but it's a seemingly secure and nice one. Though when we got into our room, two people were still sleeping.

I have five minutes left on this card and a city to explore. I promise more when I can upload photos. I'll be setting up photo albums when I get to Adelaide. I'll be in touch! I can't believe I'm back in Sydney! It feels as though I've never left. Like I'm home again.

A Catch-Up on the Last Few Weeks in Toronto

2007-05-12T13:28:00.001-05:00

Classes ended with almost a month for me to enjoy Toronto. I think I spent more time sleeping and sitting in the main library of U of T (known as Robarts Library) and drinking my over-priced starbucks.

Most days I got up late, showered and stumbled to U of T in order to get myself a tasty starbucks and leech internet. As soon as the grass turned green and the sun appeared, I turned to sunning myself on the lawn. I wanted to enjoy all the warmth and sun I could before I leave for a winter in Australia. Granted, winter in Australia is like winter in LA, but the word winter causes me to shutter just the same.

After Shannon finished studying, we spent most evenings going out with my friends or going out to eat at a new restaurant. Half the things I wanted to do in Toronto, I never did, but I at least got to revisit all my favorite places. I spent an afternoon with Tess, Adam and Shannon at Kensington Market. It's a great place just West of Spadina, where there are several used clothing stores and cheap restaurants around. We ate lunch on the patio of a little restaurant--the only one on the block that didn't sell just BBQ. Although since meat is cheap in Kensington, it makes sense there would be cheap BBQ ribs everywhere. I got my first sunburn that afternoon. Post-lunch, we shopped for great second hand deals. I got a few things--it takes a long to find good bargains. The skinnier you are, the better.

Not so good for me.

The other night Shannon and I went to the Victory Cafe. It's near Honest Ed's, which is owned by Ed Mirvish. He also owns the big theatres in the city. But Honest Ed's is a huge, almost Vegas-lit bargain store. It sells everything for cheap, and most everything you buy eventually falls apart. Like Shannon's bedsheet, which by the time he threw it out was nothing more than a piece of shredded cloth. But it's cheap.

Anyways, as soon as we sit down at the Victory Cafe and before we could order a beer, we noticed a HUGE flame coming from the table. The candle lit the napkins in the holder on fire. At the same time, Shannon and I blow on the flames out of shock, but it only made the flame worse. I imagined the entire cafe burning down, but Shannon grabbed the holder and slammed it on the table, putting the fire out. No one in the bar appeared to notice, except for two drunk people across from us. I never asked the server to re-light the candle after that affair. I didn't want to burn the place down.

The best thing about Robart's Library is that it's right on St. George Street. These food trucks park on the street. A soft-serve ice cream truck parks out front of the library and it serves cheap cones with vanilla, chocolate or twist. I got the twist and sat down nearby to enjoy my first cone of the season. When I start munching down on the cone, this little sparrow comes by. So I throw it a little piece. And then another. After a while, I managed to get it to eat out of my hand, which was pretty cool. I made a little friend; I called him Henry.

But now Henry is in Toronto and I am here in Rochester. My adventure is over. But as always, another one is just beginning. The adventure to Australia. But I will miss the late night beers with good friends from all over the world in dingy bars, or nice pubs or on a balcony at an apartment. I'll miss the harborfront and the cafes and Robarts. I'll miss a lot. Though my chapter in Toronto is over, there are more adventures to record. More photographs to save. Just 12,000 miles from here.

Patio Season

2007-05-09T11:28:00.001-05:00

As soon as the weather gets warm, every restaurant and pub opens their windows, doors and their patios. I assume that's why everyone in Toronto calls this time of year, patio season. It's not really spring or summer to Torontonians. It's the time of year when they can sit on the patio, have a beer and pretend for a moment that 365 days of the year it's patio season. And that cold and gripping winter never happened.

Patio season just might be my favorite time of the year, as Future's, my favorite cafe/bar in the Annex (if you come to Toronto, you will find it on Bloor West and Brunswick, between Bathurst and Spadina) has opened its patio. Future's is my favorite mostly because it has good, cheap food, cheap beer and amazing coffee and cakes--all of it easy on my pocket. The place is always bustling and open late, so last night we decided since it was a balmy 25C or about 77F, we'd sit on the patio and enjoy a late supper.

I'm going to be sorry to miss patio season. It's an interesting time, where the city seems to double in size overnight. People show skin and sit on plastic furniture in the middle of the afternoon drinking beer. If you've never liked Toronto, or never been, you'll love it much more if you come for the patio season.

All-You-Can-Eat is NEVER a good idea.

2007-04-28T23:21:00.001-05:00

Today, the end of my first year of graduate school started to set in. I moved out of my apartment. Sure, the place was a mess and most of my neighbors were mumbling homeless people, but I enjoyed my roommates and my little room with good sunlight. Now it's gone. I turned in my key and packed my Aunt's truck with the last of my things. It was sad to know that the year is coming to an end.

I arrived to Toronto with so much time ahead of me it seemed. So much time to explore, learn, grow, see, photograph. I feel I haven't done enough, but learn my way around Toronto. The city is as much home to me as it is still strange. I am finding new unexplored corners, cafes and restaurants everywhere. But in less than a month, I'll be more than 12,000 miles from here, in Australia. I'll still be blogging my adventures though, as numerous as they will certainly be. As I am sure there will be excitement and frustration in Rochester.

The adventure doesn't end when I leave Toronto. Especially not the story. I think of Toronto as a beginning to the next part of my life. Whatever it is.

However, I thought my eating days were ending tonight when I decided to have one last shindig with the roommates (including the Matt that moved out in March) to celebrate our time together. Of course, my roommates have a thing for all-you-can-eat sushi. I'm not sure which is worse, binge drinking on beer or binge eating raw fish for $14.99.

Now, I like sushi. I don't LOVE sushi. But I love tempura yams and vegetable sushi and I'll eat California rolls. I'll try nearly everything once before I develop an extreme hatred of it. It's the least I can do for raw fish. Well, maybe it's nights like these when we order 20 rolls, and manage to eat enough chicken wings to have killed 25 chickens and two plates of calamari and another two of tempura, topping it off with sashimi that I start to run from sushi places.

One thing that you should note about all-you-can-eat: what you don't eat, you pay for a-la-carte. And my roommates and I refuse to pay for what we don't eat. Especially since we can't take it home! So we eat..and eat...and eat, until it's gone. Even if halfway through our second meal we feel full, sick and unable to move ourselves properly, we still eat. Until every last piece is gone. Or dropped on the floor....

Post-meal, I had to walk. For at least two hours. The meal had me sleepy and unable to walk properly. I was in a raw fish coma. Similar to any other food-induced coma. Shannon decided he would take me to Little Italy where we could find proper gelato, even though our all-you-can-eat sushi was churning around in our stomachs. But we took the hike to see if we could find it.

Little Italy was hard to miss on College St. Big lights molded in the shape of Italy were affixed to light poles. But the section of town itself was quite swanky. It was longer than a block! It puts every Little Italy I have seen thus far to shame. It makes Little Italy in New York look like an alley. It's worth the trip for good Italian restaurants and nice lounges or bars. Also, for gelato at Dolce. I was pleased with the gelato and more importantly, I could actually eat it after sushi. Probably because it didn't have the pungent odor of fish. The things we do at all-you-can-eat places.

It's when eating becomes a marathon, where you just have to push through the pain.

Until your stomach bursts.

But, I'd go back to Little Italy again. Hell, I'd live there! Everyone knows I'm a sucker for good cheese, Italian foods, gelato, Italian Chianti (most Italian reds though) and those great Renaissance artists. But enough about food, I just think I heard my stomach grumble.

"It tastes awful, and it works"

2007-04-27T10:57:00.001-05:00

Have you ever heard of Buckley's? It's this Canadian cough syrup that's noted for how well it works...and just how bad it tastes. In fact, it tastes so bad, the company does a "Bad Taste Tour" every year, taping people trying the medicine and having a contest for the best grossed-out face. Well, I've been sick for over a week, and Robitussin just wasn't cutting it. So in my desperation to feel better, I bought Buckley's.

Well, I can't accuse the company of false advertising. While the medicine tastes like a combination of paint thinner and pine sap, it actually works surprisingly well. It just reminds me that I have a gag reflux.

Apparently, since the medicine has a reputation for being so bad, Buckley's has built an ad campaign around it. And it has helped them maintain success with phrases like:

"Since 1919, we've been leaving Canadians with a bad taste in their mouths."

"Our largest bottle is 200 ml. Anything more would be cruel."

"People swear by it. And at it."

But it really works. I owe my lack of a hacking cough to Buckley's. Who knew the Canadians could invent something that tastes so awful, but actually works. I still have a lot left in my bottle so I'm going to bring it back with me. Anyone with a cough next year should come to me. I have the miracle serum. It will just make you wish you didn't have taste buds.

A Surgical Affair

2007-04-23T12:40:00.000-05:00

It's been over three weeks now since I've had my surgery. It's amazing how quickly the mind can forget experiences. It was a dreary, rainy Wednesday morning when my mom marched me up to the surgical center. I hadn't slept well the night before. Not that it would matter much as I was about to be put back to sleep in a few hours.

I was the youngest person there being prepped for surgery. I don't think there was a person within 30 years of me. Seriously. But everyone there was so nice, especially since I was so grumpy from no food since 8pm or water since midnight. My tummy kept rumbling at the sight or smell of food. But I was able to maintain self control when I thought to getting sick after anesthesia.

Gowns are probably the most embarrassing thing a person can wear. Especially on the day you have your period. Nothing like going for a cystoscopy (this is a surgery to your bladder) on a day when you want nothing more than to wear underwear. Instead, I got to wear only a surgical gown and shove a maternity pad between my legs.

Humility: 1 Dignity: 0

I finally awkwardly climbed on the hospital bed in a strange place, where I am only separated by curtains from my fellow patients. We are all somehow in this together. I've never had and IV before, and if I never have one again, it'll be too soon. I immediately bruised and if that wasn't enough they kept pushing the needle around trying to straighten it. This sudden rush of fluids caused me to need to pee. How am I going to pee with a pad between my legs, an IV in my arm and a hospital gown with a peek-a-boo back. I'll tell you: the nurse holds your IV and gown and leads you to the bathroom.

Humility: 2 Dignity: 0

Once I get into the bathroom, she lets that gown go. Before the door is even shut! She needs that hand to shut the door, thus exposing my bum to her and anyone else that can sneak a peak.

Humility 3: Dignity: 0

Eventually I pee, and get re-situated on my little hospital bed next to my mom with that lovely pad between my legs. My anesthesiologist comes in. She turns out to be great and she comes bearing Valium for this adventure into the operating room. Of course the doctor performing my surgery is a good 45 minutes late, so we have time to chat.

She mentions my surgery in detail. After I am put under, they stick my legs in stirrups. Ladies know them, the ones for pap smears and childbirth. Before I was put under, I counted four people in the room, excluding the doctor. I'm not disappointed that I don't remember any of that. In fact, I'm slightly relieved.

Humility 4: Dignity: 0

After drifting off into a peaceful, Valium happy sleep, I awake in the recovery room, attached to monitors that are beeping away. I can barely see the nurse through my bleary eyes as she says, "I'm going to take the catheter out now." YANK! And she walks off with a very large bag full of what looks like blush wine. I immediately have to pee. Strangely enough, the pad has been replaced between my legs after surgery. Hmph?

Humility:5 Dignity: 0

I wearily look around after taking unknown drugs for my mom. I can hear her heals clacking the linoleum. I know she is there! And she appears from behind the curtain. I state my need to pee. Once again, it is a production to the bathroom. This time without the IV bag, just the IV needle still in my hand. It was some of the worst pain I have ever experienced. But, I was still quite drugged, so I took it in a sort of dazed way.

Humility 6: Dignity: 0

Once I return from my adventure to the toilet, I beg to go home. I can't dress myself so my mom has to help me. They remove my IV and I turn to walk out of the hospital, but the nurse stops me. She instructs me to sit in the wheelchair and then proceeds to wheel me out to the entrance I came in that morning. Such door to door service. But my mom doesn't arrive with the car for another 10...long...minutes.

Humility: 7 Dignity: 0

At the end of this adventure, I was rewarded by food. glorious bagel sandwiches and a comfy bed to sleep in. What more could you ask for after that?

Humility: 7 Dignity: 0 Stomach: 1

To be honest, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. But, I'm glad it's over. I'm still dealing with some of the effects. It was good to be home with my family. I went out the next night when I was coherent with my older brother and Carla. I haven't seen her in so long, it was good to catch up. It's also good to be getting along with Matt now that I'm growing up. Your parents will tell you that you'll grow up to love and get along with your siblings, but you never expect them to be right. It's a good feeling to be wrong. It's good when your brothers can be your friends after years of hair pulling and shoving and locking each other in closets. I'm excited for Matt to go to Scotland--another family member has taken up traveling. And he's got a pretty sweet camera, so it's been fun to share pictures as well.

Well, spring time has come to Toronto. I have a chest cold, but have been sitting in the grass drinking Starbucks every day with Shannon. I forgot how wonderful warm weather and sunshine can be. These days feel so good to just remember how simple everything can be in the sunshine. It also makes me miss sailing. Springtime always does.

Kat's Visit

2007-04-10T22:15:00.001-05:00

I have been thrust this week into the middle of finals, a mess of pain and painkillers, delirious and drugged. It's not exactly the best condition to be attempting finals in that count for a large amount of your grade, but life doesn't wait for finals, it goes on. And I go with it.

Before surgery and these disruptive finals, Kat flew up for a visit during Passover. Working for a Jewish organization has its charms. I'll show you our few days together in a short picture story. Mostly because I think my pictures tell the story better than my words can.
Our night at Toby's. Enjoying the bar and a hockey game and $10 dollar pitchers. The night ended with a shot called the "cowboy cocksucker" (sorry if that offended anyone) and our taking a photo in the bathroom of the Plan B ad in a stall. The picture didn't turn out so well.
At the Harbourfront. I find it amusing. Not to mention I love Captain Morgan and fancy myself a pirate. I have sailed on several tall ships, so my claim is not without some basis.
The very long boardwalk that winds all around. It's the best kept secret in Toronto, but not always easy to find since you have to go under the Gardiner Parkway.
I definitely took an interest in the wildlife that day.
I love the colours on the duck. It's so pretty.
I've never actually seen a water taxi before, but they actually exist.
It seems impossible that I go to the water without ever finding a tall ship. Here is the Kajama which is apparently one of many in Toronto that do evening sails or day sails or almost any kind of sail around the harbour and Lake Ontario.
There we are with our new found ship. Not as good looking as some of the ones I've been on or worked for, but she's a schooner. I deeply respect all schooners, especially gaff-rigged.
It was one of the few times with sun. I have a thing for pins and line. I can't explain it. There ends the majority of our week, seemingly less adventurous than before. Certainly more sober. But hey, it happens. Lately, with my bladder problems, I haven't been drinking. It's become a rather rare occurrence. Finals end on Friday, I promise you that I'll be having a good night at the class party afterwards. I consider it a little gift to myself. I was pretty sober on St. Patrick's Day as well. Shannon came later and managed to get more intoxicated than me. Then again, I did keep shoving off my green beer at him.

I feel awful about my lack of updates lately. I still owe a geeky explanation of my day at the Gatineau Preservation Centre and I promise to update about my exciting first surgery. I'm sorry that I don't have any scars to show for it, they're all internal. My apologies. I promise to keep up with my updates.

I do have one funny thing for you to do though in the meantime as a source of entertainment. Go to Google Maps and "get directions" from New York, New York to Paris, France and read line "23." Line 23 will have you laughing. I promise it will brighten your day.

Time Has Been Racing By

2007-03-28T00:17:00.001-05:00

It's felt like spring these past few days. There's been a fair amount of rain and gray days, but the snow is gone. So is Troy, Shannon's oldest brother. Sunday evening we sent him on his way to the UK for about a year. The beauty of having a dual citizenship I suppose. But it was a good weekend and a chance to relax before the beginning of finals. They are fast approaching. My adventure here in the True North is about to come to a close. I'm not ready for it, so I plan to savour my last few weeks.

Friday I went out with Shannon, Troy and two girls from my program, Tess and Marilia to see this band Sebadoh at Lee's Palace, a dingy club/bar where you see smaller bands play. Flogging Molly was going to play there, but sold so many tickets they had to up to a bigger venue. I'd never heard them before, but some of their songs were definitely good and I would listen to them again. I'm not sure how I felt about the state of my knees and sweating profusely. We finished the night out at a Mexican bar. It was a dive and the beer was awful--but the nachos were good.

Saturday was a sleep in day, with great Thai food at Spring Rolls for dinner. And then we went to see the movie Reign Over Me. I think I laughed when I shouldn't have, but some of it was extremely funny. I thought Adam Sandler was great though and sometimes he just can't help but be funny. It was very good though on another level than just comedy. Troy said it was the funniest movie Adam Sandler has ever done. Tough to call since he also did great movies like Happy Gilmore and Billy Madison. The evening of course ended with Hemingways and some long island iced teas.

Sunday started late--I really love sleeping in. But basically ended with a trip to the airport and a sad goodbye. Three months has gone time too fast. It hit me that soon Shannon will be leaving and I will too. I started to get very nervous in the airport and I'm not even leaving yet! It's going to take a lot of work before I'm able to step on a plane, but I'm going to have to, sooner or later.

It's back to the school week and a lot to do before Kat comes to visit this weekend. I'm extremely excited, but swamped with work at the moment. But, it's a relief to have the class part of the semester almost over with. Now there will be time to explore the city in springtime. I look forward to leaves again.

Birthdays, Ottawa and Raccoons on roofs

2007-03-22T01:02:00.001-05:00

As always, life takes the momentum out of blogging. Interesting things happen and I don't have the time to share them. Nothing happens and I find myself looking for almost anything to write about.

Spring has begun, but it still feels like winter in Toronto. The only difference is that the snow has left us. But I can still smell late fall in the air. I'm hoping for spring. Birds have started chirping and I keep dreaming about crocus popping up through the muddy dirt.

March 6th was Shannon's birthday. It was my turn to plan and pay and celebrate. Most of his gifts were not completed. They are still not completed, but hopefully I can send him off to Australia with them. I took him to Piccolo's on Carlton for his birthday. It was this great little Italian restaurant. We drank red wine, ate salty cheese and had some fabulous pesto-covered gnocchi. I treated him to a private dessert of mini cheesecakes and iced wine. He had a good evening, so I achieved success and had great food. You can't go wrong with great food.

March 8th and 9th I found myself whisked away to the nation's capital of Ottawa. If it possible, which is most definitely is, Ottawa was far colder than Toronto. I mean 9th level of Dante's hell colder. What a beautiful city, but the beauty is lost when you can't feel your fingers after the first five minutes. I was happy to be able to retreat to the glass interior of the National Gallery of Art.

There, we were taken to see the photographic treasures of the NGA. I remember the images perfectly. I walked in there and I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped suddenly to the floor. There was Talbot and Negre's very famous "3 Chimney Sweeps" laid out there. I saw Diane Arbus, Frank, Winograd, Walker Evans, Frederick Evans (SIGNED!), Siskgand, Weston, Bourke-White (with heaps of "silvering out" going on), Lisette Model, Strand, Mr. Ansel Adams and a Larry Clark photography from his "Tulsa" series. I may or may not of wet myself a little. It was incredibly exciting. To top off the evening, we were given free tickets to the gallery and since walking around Ottawa was not an option, this was perfect.

Apparently, the canal in Ottawa is the longest outdoor ice skating rink. However, I wonder if people ever skate on it. When I took pictures of it, I think I saw one crazy person on it. I am sure that after that, they suffered hypothermia. I know I was, my little nubs could barely press the button on the camera.Parliament Hill was also beautiful at night, although my hands were shaking so bad, none of the photographs came out. I pretty much ran the rest of the way home. The rest of the evening was spent in bed watching terrible documentaries on the Discovery channel. I think we would have gone out, but getting up at 5:30am sort of kills the party factor. We did get to see Byward Market, but in winter, it doesn't look very busy. However, it looks like a great place to go in the summer, outdoor stores, vendors, cafes and the famous Beavertail stand, which I braved the cold to have one. They are sweet treats a bit like fried dough, but they are shaped like beaver tails. If you're in Ottawa, search out the stand at Byward Market.
Day 2 of the program's Ottawa trip didn't start until 7:30am, but I skipped breakfast for more sleep and a long shower. We headed to the Gatineau Preservation Centre just over the Quebec border. I'll save the trip for another time, when you really feel like reading about the temperature and relative humidity of vaults and about book conservation. It really is quite fascinating. You've seen those doors before, but you never get to see what's behind the vaults. and now, you can. A secret revealed.

I've been back for a while now and life is starting to get hectic with final projects looming ahead and Kat's visit back to the True North. Spring better be here by then. Or at least it better be breathing down Winter's neck to take a hike. I was doing my laundry at the laundry mat the other day. When I looked up and out the window, I saw a fat little raccoon lumbering across the roof of a slightly disheveled house. It scrambled over--in broad daylight--to the dormer in the roof and climbed into a crack between the roof and the window. After watching for a while, I saw two. I must have watched them for almost 30 minutes and not one did I see a single person look up to see these two raccoons climbing around the roof. And climbing in it for that matter.

It makes you wonder, do people notice anything? Do those people know they have a raccoon family in their roof? I should hope so.

You know, with all the work I have to do, I have still managed to read five books in the past month. Five books, not all of them contemporary.

Mother Nature Called.

2007-03-03T19:46:00.001-05:00

Thursday my old friend, Jenny, drove up from Rochester, NY to spend a day in the wonderful culturally-diverse Toronto. Unfortunately, Mother Nature had a different idea in store for her and for myself. Dumping heaps of snow on the city in a matter of hours, leaving every road imaginable blocked--and the view from my window nothing but a view of white flurries (check out the slideshow at the bottom of this site). It turned a three hour drive into a six hour one. Navigating the city took an hour--normally, the drive is about 10 minutes. After the snow had had it's fill, icy rain set in, turning the city into one wet pond.

Needless to say, I spent Friday morning clomping around in wet boots, trying to avoid deep puddles. It did not work. Unfortunately, the inclement weather that hit Toronto and parts of the Eastern US, including Alabama, ruined the plans for a night at Hemingways. Instead, we stayed in and played Dance Dance Revolution and drank beer and mixed drinks. It was not quite the show of Toronto I wanted to give, but sometimes weather wins out.

Friday night, Shannon and I went to the Bloor Cinema near his building and caught a film that was part of the Si-Si Cine Toronto Latin Film Festival. We saw the film "En la ciudad sin limites." It was about a dying father and his connection to the communist party in both Spain and Paris 40 years ago and his estranged male lover. That's perhaps a terrible description of a very beautiful and sad film. But, the end was very touching and the letter the dying man (Max) writes to his lover (Rancel) is very poignant. You also find out how the wife betrayed Rancel so he would be arrested and imprisoned so she would be free to marry Max. If you ever have the opportunity to see the movie, I suggest you go for it.

Today, has been a quieter day, mingled with coffee and reading. I intended to spend the rest of the weekend in much the same fashion. I am in no hurry this weekend to live life in any fast lane, but enjoy things at a slower pace while my life permits it. Meanwhile, the snow is almost gone again and the bars are starting to fill up.

Just another night under city lights.

Strange Information

2007-02-28T11:48:00.001-05:00

I've been learning a lot of strange things this week. Things that have probably no useful application, but that you decided to highlight and star them as you took notes in class. It's the information that might not be on a test, but is far more interesting than the things that will be.

Interesting Fact #1: Xerox copiers actually give off ozone when they are running. Ozone, as you might know, is a factor that causes oxidation in silver prints. Apparently, if you store your silver photographs in a room next to a copier, you can cause fast damage and deterioration of them. Who would have thought, copier = ozone? Apparently so.

Interesting Fact #2: In a world where we think digital photography is still a baby and only maybe 20 years old at most, think again. Apparently "electronic" photography, much the same as digital photography, has been around since 1920/1921. It was called the Bartlane System. Images could be transmitted via a trans-Atlantic cable. Basically the system uses a telegraphic typewriter to produce an image in 5 grays. We now produce an image in 256 grays.

Interesting Fact #3: In 1921 Western Union begins a wire photo service. That in 1934 causes the Associated Press to start their own wire photograph service. The first overseas radio-photo published was in Australian Newspapers.

I guess this week has filed my head with all sorts of crazy information. Like the idea that a low-fat dairy diet can make a woman more infertile. So, if you're trying to conceive, go off that low-fat dairy crap until you are pregnant. Guess this means for the time being, I'll stick to the low-fat dairy.

Snow Falling on the Sidewalk

2007-02-25T19:54:00.000-05:00

Study week has passed before my eyes. I'm locked away in my bedroom, 600 miles from where I was 24 hours ago. I had felt so drained from the week before, that I hesitated about going. The bus ride was long and without much shut eye, but in the end, it was worth it.

I'd forgotten the District. But stepping out into the cool morning from 12 hours on a greyhound bus, my heading jiggling uncomfortably against a window, I remembered. I smelled spring for the first time this week. I saw the some of the people who matter most in my life. I love adventures, but I hate how they tear me apart from the people I love. Every moment I get to spend with them--whether it's spending an evening talking and drinking four bottles of wine or sitting on the floor chatting until 4am and then getting up at 6am--feels like I stole it from the marching of time and now I keep it close. I don't keep in touch with them enough. And I don't want to ever forget them.

But then it hits me, I'm still bound for Australia for the summer. I still have a year and a half left of grad school. HJ might move back to Korea if she can't find a work permit. Kit Kat might be off for England in a year. And as for my story? Who knows. It's a far different world than it was when I was younger. Rochester was the farthest away I'd been and seen. You think that no matter what happens your world will somehow be contained there. And all you want is to get out and find a way to start over with a seemingly new life.

It's true that everywhere you go you make new friends. But it isn't that simple. It's true that moving towns is a fresh start, a chance to run from pain or failure or a piece of you that you want to forget. But it isn't that simple. I'd never take back my decision to move to Toronto for a year, but I no longer regret my decision to live in the District. I haven't forgotten the reasons I needed to leave it all behind, but I haven't forgotten the reasons that keep drawing me back.

Some days I wake up and wonder why I left. I could have stayed. But I wanted the adventure. So, here I am, up to my elbows in palladium prints and cyanotypes. Notes are spread across my bed and books are piled up on the floor. I'm back to reality that deadlines and papers wait for me. Snow falls steadily outsides--it reminds me that that small glimpse of spring I had in Washington, DC this week was only a fantasy. It taunted me, giving me thought of flip flops and skirts. But here, it's back to down jackets and furry boots.

Winter in Australia is going to feel like summer after this.

Speaking of Australia, I got Shannon to drive on the right side of the road. On a whim. I was trying to save him from the challenge of driving on the left side of the car, on the right side of the road, but it didn't last. So, I forced him to drive opposite of how he used to and on top of it all, he had to drive stick with his right hand and not his left.
There's my evidence. And yes, the car made it to Maryland safely, although the next day it was traded in for a better car, so it didn't matter much.

A lot is coming up in the next few weeks. Hopefully a Flogging Molly concert, Shannon's birthday and a school trip to Ottawa that will hopefully be extended a few days. We shall see.

On a final note: if you're looking for a new TV show to watch, make it Hereos. It's got me roped in. It's worth watching. Which, instead of writing my paper, I am going to do.

A Lazy Sunday Afternoon

2007-02-04T14:24:00.000-05:00

Well, life has been interesting since being home to go to the doctor's. There was a heavy snowfall in Rochester, so it finally felt like winter. Though since returning to Toronto, it has been just as cold. Almost too cold to go walking for a good hour--the amount of time it takes to get from my place to Shannon's. I've also gotten news that I will have to go to a specialist for my medical problem. So, all that's left is to wait and see what happens.

Shannon and I are still trying to plan what to do for Reading Week. A road trip is probably in the forecast. The plan is visit Jenny, head to DC and hopefully a trip to Wood's Hole if the weather out there isn't too bad. I really miss sunsets on the Knob and running the Shining Sea bike path. I think I would like to go back and soak up a little memory.

I am still working on the internship, but it has taken a back burner since I have been in pain and been going to the doctor's a lot. I am trying to take it all in stride and do what I can. My classes have to come first though. I did most of my work this week so I can spend the time focusing on the paper and project due the following week. I have to at some point this week learn how to make a Van Dyke print so that I can teach the class. Trouble is, like most non-silver processes, it's rather experimental. It could take days to learn.

I saw Little Miss Sunshine this weekend. It's a great film. I loved the beauty pageant scene. I think the whole movie in general made me smile. There's something about dysfunctional that just says "loving family."

I'll be happy once the next few weeks are over with. I'm finding it hard to keep myself motivated. This is not a good semester for me. I'm not sure why, but I'm having a hard time convincing myself to get it done. I want to keep going strong and making good grades. And to start considering an option for a thesis. I want to do something that I'd find fascinating. If I could do something surrounding my internship, I'd be set. After all, I'd like to go back. Next year, I'm going to have to start saving some money.

Especially since student loans are creeping up on me and all of them want money. Even though I am still in school. It seems to matter little to them. What I would give to just pay them off in less than 10 years. I hate the thought of them. But, I'd rather not think about it anymore and just focus on the next two weeks. And then I can enjoy a few weeks to relax. Maybe the weather will oblige my plans.

Internships, among other trials

2007-01-20T22:39:00.000-05:00

Well, I'll start with the good news. I'm typing from my "new" used Mac PowerBook G4 sitting in my lap. I has a battery in it. That right there beats my Dell in half. But that's mostly where my joy has ended. I've found myself sitting in Toronto, with dirty snow around me, in a funk. It's not fun.

What's more frustrating is finding and internship. Nothing is coming together. I'm in the second round for the NGA internship in Washington, DC. But, as for all the rest, I'm getting mostly "No"s and "Maybe"s. It's rather work hard and I disheartening. No one seems to want to believe in me. How can I prove myself if no one believes in me? It's making me second guess myself and my own abilities. It's hard to explain without including the email, but since it embarrasses me too much to just post online like, if you ask me for it, I would send it you...maybe. The entire ordeal to find an internship has taken a toll on me and I'll be happy when it's all worked out. But, that's still a long road to go.

My mom came down last night for her birthday with Aunt Mary. I took them to the Keg Mansion along with Troy and Shannon. It was a lot of fun, even though I've had a cold. The steak there was AMAZING. And so were my mashed potatoes. All in all, it was a great night and they left too soon. So, I've spent the rest of my day playing Wii (which if you haven't tried it yet, you definitely need to, especially Wii Sports). And will continue to after I finish this entry. Which, would be right now, Shannon is waiting for me to play.

Welcome to 2007

2007-01-17T11:12:00.000-05:00

Well, it's a little late for Happy New Years greetings. Break has come and gone and a month of my life has flown by without a single journal entry. I have spent most of my break without doing much, but getting lots of well earned sleep. I've definitely enjoyed seeing my family and not having to do anything. Having my car back has also been a huge plus.

I enjoyed New Years. I spent it in NYC with Shannon, his brother Troy and their friend, Amber. It rained, but we spent it in a great little pub drinking beer and having free champagne. So it was a worthwhile New Years and it probably was the best one yet.

Now it's back in Toronto and back to the daily grind. Classes, homework and well-timed naps. I'm not sure I could survive a day without a nap. It's going to be a long semester and I already feel tired because of it. I know that I might not be as smart as all of them, but I try. I really do try. I know I might not try as hard as them, but I do fully believe in living a well-rounded life. And that means doing more.

Furthermore, I have gotten awful news. Neelix is going to be put down this weekend. Jenny and I are so bummed out. I can't help but think about the poor dog every day. I can't think about it without feeling awful. How scary it must be to be put down and I know it's coming, but he doesn't. I don't do well with dying animals. I can't go to where my mom works part-time at the animal hospital--it usually ends with me in tears.

It's been a stressful few weeks. I look forward to a routine again. and maybe for some things to start going my way.

As far as finding an internship goes, it's been a frustrating process with little to no rewards. A yes would definitely be nice. I applied to the NGA in Washington, DC. It wasn't my first choice, but I had to start thinking of backups. With every "no" I've gotten I've started to freak out. But, obviously come this summer I'll have an internship somewhere since I have to. I just hope people will start to make light of my talents and stop saying "no." But in the mean time I'm feeling over-sensitive about my intelligence and talent.

So, whenever people tease me about my abilities lately, I get very offended. Especially from my friends in class.

Survival of the Marathon...

2006-12-16T21:30:00.000-05:00

...And on to the holidays.

I have officially made it through my first semester of graduate school and two weeks of exhausting finals and projects mingled with a brutal ailment. Now that I have finished, I await my grades in the new year and move on to the holidays.

I go home tomorrow afternoon with Shannon. We'll see what kind of misadventures we can scrounge up in Rochester for a few days. I'm already through with boredom and for some reason I think I need a slight change of scenes for a few days. Now that I'm not focusing on classes or homework, I feel as though I'm floundering a bit, searching for a sense of purpose.

Maybe I will feel more in the holiday spirit once I get home. It will be nice to see a Christmas Tree again, I'll admit. Although, I'm not really holding out hope for a white Christmas--as wonderful as that would be.

I've kept busy though amidst all the work I've had to do. I've seen a few movies in the past week, Babel and the Queen. I would highly recommend both to anyone. I also went to a wonderful restaurant in Yorkville called Bellinis where I drank Chianti and ate incredible tiramisu and overall felt important in my dress and black heels. Last night's dinner took place at a park with cream cheese, a baguette and salami. While it was a bit cold, it was a relaxing way to enjoy the evening.

I do wish it would cool down and snow though. Get me in the mood a little more. This has been an interesting semester and in just three short months, I've come rather far. I'm used to Canadian money and feel weird every time I see a US dollar. I accomplished a marathon of finals and papers and presentations. I feel as though I've learned heaps more in one semester of graduate school than in four years of classes at SOC. Maybe I just tried harder.

I will miss the busy, bright city lights over the next few weeks. I will replace them with the lights of Rochester and then the noisy streets of New York City around New Years. I had planned on making a trip to DC, but I've decided it will have to wait until February. Timing will be better for everyone I believe.

Happy Holidays to everyone back in the States. I'll be crossing the border tomorrow.

Santa Claus and American Thanksgiving

2006-11-29T13:28:00.000-05:00

Between writing a novel this month, finals an exhibition and life, there hasn't been much time to spare. I feel as though I keep trying to get things done, but it never happens.

Last week was American Thanksgiving. I went back home to Rochester and took Shannon with me--so he could compare notes between how Canada and the US do days were we are thankful and then proceed to gorge ourselves on too much turkey. It's a holiday that while I love it, I don't quite understand it. We say our thanks by spending it with people we love. All right, I understand that. But we say our thanks by eating too much food and regretting it later?

That....I don't understand.

But, with the holiday over with and my pants tighter than before, we move on to the Christmas Season. Though it seems that Toronto had moved on by November 1st. The Santa Claus parade took place on Bloor a few weeks ago on a November Sunday. I can't remember the date exactly. But, what I have learned is that this Santa Claus parade is not only WELL OVER A MONTH EARLY, it's like a watered down version of Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Oh Santa. You come earlier every year. While I enjoy the month long Christmas celebration, I have a problem that we start getting ready while we're still wearing shorts and flip flops. Let's not jump ahead of the game. I'm already for Christmas come the day after Thanksgiving, but since Fall is littered with holidays, give each of them some space, okay?

But, my opinion didn't matter and Santa marched anyways. Then I went to Rochester and at turkey and thanked the pilgrims. I think. I'm not sure the holiday is even about thanking the pilgrims anymore. I think it's just about thanking the turkey and spending time with family. Either way, it was a great few days at home.

It ended with a return to Toronto with my mother, Shannon and Fran. We celebrated with nothing other than chicken shawarmas. Now, the semester is nearly over with and I still don't understand milk in bags, but I do understand finals. They are looming over my head in the next few days.

We'll see how I survive. Perhaps Wednesday night I will have to go to the LCBO to celebrate.

What a Week it Has Been

2006-11-10T16:17:00.000-05:00

Ben left this morning to head back to the District. Yes, the Ben that I once dated and am now really good friends with. It's strange how those things work out. But it was a hell of a lot of fun with him around for over a week. I did have my final presentation on Wednesday, so between preparing for that and hanging out with Ben and Shannon, things have been hectic.

Thankfully, it's already another weekend. Maybe now I can process the past week and get some sleep in the meantime. I've started my project making Ambrotypes. It's great to be back in the darkroom. Strange though to be doing 19th century processes. Though I have to admit, it's all very exciting.

Last Friday Fran had a party at Molly Bloom's, a pub near U of T. There's nothing better than hanging out with the girls and bringing along Ben and Shannon. I'm really thankful for everyone, because they've made Toronto extremely special.

Sadly, that's only four of the fab 5. Nadia didn't come. And once again, with the nose thing. It's a common occurrence after too much beer. And this week with Ben has been anything but short of beer. There's been Bluegrass music live and bar hoping and making several new friends everywhere and anywhere. I can't forget the climbing several firescapes to get to the roof of the silver dollar on Wednesday night. And the fact that Ben's car did get towed Monday night. I'm almost positive that I'm not doing Ben's trip to Canada any justice. But he left loving Toronto. So I feel as though I've done my job.

I don't have a good picture of Shannon, Ben and I to share (at least according to my own vanity they aren't very good) so this is as good as it gets. Molly Bloom's was a good night. One of many in the past seven. I can't say anything about the Bob Dylan concerts Ben went to, but he sounded as pleased as ever. I'm at no loss for not going. Me and Bob aren't as close as Ben and Bob. He's a bit obsessed. There's no way to have a conversation without Bob Dylan coming up at some point.

I've seen more of Toronto in the past week. And what an interesting week in Canada it has been. Not to mention being part of the strangest group dynamic ever. Three friends. Two used to date. Then the one guy introduces the girl to the other guy. Now the other guy and the girl are together. And they're still all friends.

Hey, I NEVER said my life played by the rules. That would be dull. And this is supposed to be an adventure after all. A Canadian one. That requirement is fulfilled by the massive amount of Timmy's that I've had all week. Ben swore he'd never eat at a Tim Horton's (which are huge in Canada, move over Dunkin Dounuts!), but I think it finally grew on him. We had a final breakfast together before he left this morning.

It was such a good week. And I am so tired, that is exactly what I'm going to leave you with. The fact that Canada has already put up most of their Christmas decorations has me slightly disoriented. It is still November, right?

Humor up in Canada

2006-11-05T23:10:00.000-05:00

And life in the fast times. It's getting to that point in the semester where I only have time for work and a social life. Blogging seems to come second. And farther down the line, my NANOWRIMO novel, which with almost a week gone, seems to be lacking in words.

But, I'd rather sit around and contemplate the humor in Canada than write a novel. I find myself coming back to the milk in bags phenomenon. Shannon and I spent several minutes ranting about it one evening in the dairy section of a convenience store. I then received this hysterical cartoon about these milk in bags. And I also went on a rant that night about the price of Ben and Jerrys. Nearly seven dollars a pint! I don't care if that's in Canadian dollars, that's still expensive. But I've learned to appreciate other forms of ice cream just as much--partially because I can get more for cheaper.

My next humorous story has do to with the Toronto Police. While walking through Allen gardens at maybe five in the afternoon with Kat when she was visiting, we saw a man passed out by the sidewalk in the grass. Did I mention his pants were down around his ankles? This appeared to have him unaffected as he snored away. Kat and I then had to promptly jump off the sidewalk as a cop car came pulling up. It stopped next to the sleeping man. Kat and I also ceased walking as this bizarre sight had us transfixed.

The police did not get out of the car. Instead, they pulled out a megaphone and began to say "Sir. Sir, do you know your pants are down? Sir, your pants are down." I promptly began to snicker and the cute, young police officer in the drivers seat turned to us. Of course his window was rolled down and he called, "Hey, either of you ladies looking for a date tonight? I've got one right here."

I shook my head and pushed Kat along, "No thanks, "I began, "I like my dates to be conscious." I am sure I heard him laughing as we walked off. It gave Kat and I a good laugh. Strange things always seem to happen in Toronto.

Case and Point. The other afternoon I am letting Ben and Shannon out of o my apartment. As I am saying goodbye, I go to pull the door closed. This is when I see a little, old, stout lady hobble up to my door. She reaches for it as I pull it shut. So I push it back open. She doesn't even look at me as she tries to push past so I reply, "Can I help you?" This seems to have her unaffected so I say, "I'm sorry this is a private residence. I then pull the door shut on her.

She muttered an almost inaudible, "oh." and then hobbled back off in the direction she came. I caught the confused look of Ben and Shannon. I merely shrugged and waved goodbye. Once again, these strange occurrences I can't quite figure out. Oh, Toronto. And that's about all I can say.

I shall never cease to find the humor and weird in this city. I can't really say I want to. It keeps me on my toes.

Life is Beauty Mingled with Grief

2006-10-26T13:12:00.000-05:00

As Friday looms, my thoughts darken slightly. My mind is set on black and carnations and somber moments. Perhaps, not the best place to start an entry, but not all life is joy. While life is a beautiful treasure that I might never full understand, grief is a part of that beauty. I haven't grieved yet, but I am preparing myself for it.

My Aunt Ra passed away last weekend. The strangest thing is that I can still hear her voice in my head though I haven't seen her in months. I mostly remember her from my childhood. I remember the funeral when Uncle Floyd, her husband, passed away. It was the first funeral in my memory. And now, I am preparing for hers. To see my cousin, Kelly, her grand-daughter in hopes that she will be all right. I don't know if I'll cry. Sometimes, when it's the right moment to, I can't seem to find the tears. I stand there looking lost, emotionless in a sea of grieving people. Other times, I am part of that sea--a sniffling, bawling mess of tears and grief. Time will tell. I just know that right now is the time to be in the arms of my family.

It seems a bit hard to pick up and entry after those thoughts. But they are life and though Aunt Ra will be a memory and a spirit to me, time marches on for the rest of us. The only absolutes I think. Time passing and death. But, my week has not been this dark. Aside from the onset of a little fall cold, most of my time has been spent doing the same weekly routine.

I wrote a paper for Don's class Monday. Six hours in front of the computer, telling my story of Collodion. It was two pages longer than necessary. And I was pleased with it. If I can spend one night writing a six page paper, two nights should be enough to write my 10 page paper coming up for David's class.

Tuesday after class I explored Casa Loma with Shannon. It's a castle that was built up on a hill overlooking Toronto. It was built in 1911 for Sir Henry Pellatt. I believe though within 10 years he had hit financial ruin and had to abandon his dream castle. That story was a little depressing. But the castle was rather pretty. It had it's own tower and I admit that my imagination was running away with me. Stories and daydreams. Heros and knights and strong female characters--quite abnormal for the time. But, it was my daydream after all. I thought the castle had beautiful gardens too, even though it was raining as I hiked through them. I do have to admit that I was rather disappointed when I discovered that we had explored the entire castle, but failed to find the tunnel that led to the stables. I missed the stables! Oh, the tragedy. I suppose I will have to go back around Christmas to explore again.

Shawarma Wednesday was completely turned around due to unforseen circumstances. It ended up that Fran and I were the only ones to partake in chicken shawarmas in a strange place across from U of T. It was no La-Zeez. Fran and I were left somewhat unsatisfied, but Shannon didn't seem to know the difference. In the future, the Fab 5 will have to educate him on a truly good shawarma.

The evenings are getting cold and I find myself shivering in my bed every night. This will have to be changed at some point, because I do not like freezing in my sleep. While home this weekend I will have to commandere more winter supplies for my room. To be truly honest, I just want to get home. This week has dragged on and I have only been able to think of my family. Saturday will be very bittersweet. And right now, that is all I really can think about.

The Beach, The Madi and Shawarmas

2006-10-21T15:35:00.000-05:00

Due to my laziness, I am a week behind with my adventures. I suppose it's easy to forget to write when things start happening so quickly. Work piles up, people call, leaves fall and time marches on. So I fall behind with writing my stories.

I went to the beach last Friday afternoon with Shannon. The cold rain and wind didn't seem to hinder my desire to go find the water. Probably about 20 minutes by street car and we were near the beach. It was terribly cold after I got wet, but the view was just what I wanted to see of Lake Ontario. The lake was turbulant, covered with white caps all the way out to the horizon. The water was a dark sea-green and mingled with the white foam. The waves broke on the cold sand and dangerous rocks. I climbed those dangerous rocks so I could get a better view.

It was only after Shannon climbed up to join me that a huge wave crashed over the rocks and managed to get us soaked. I secretly didn't mind getting wet, I just liked looking out over the lake and losing myself in my thoughts and memories. It was so beautiful.

After spending an hour or two running around and letting both wind and rain drench us, we decided to warm up with some Kahlua and coffee. By then, the rain and wind ceased, letting the sun peak through just before it set. Perched up on a lifeguard chair we finished our coffees and headed for a rocky point. I wanted to see the view from there.

It was worth the hike. I found rock the looked out over the water to downtown Toronto. You could see all the buildings from the Scotia building to the BMO and even the apartment buildings near my flat--of course not to mention the CN tower, which no matter where you are you can pretty much get a good view of it.

After some pizza it was time to head back on the street car, because I was headed for a girls night out. The fab 5 (Tess, Fran, Ali, Nadia and myself) went to the Madi pub for some drinks and conversation. A bunch of Fran's friends from U of T joined the group and we stayed until close. It was a lot of fun, mostly because when everyone got drunk, things got interesting. Fran became more awkward, Tess loved her tequila and Ali made a serious a curious hand guestures that have stuck with us ever since.

You couldn't ask for a better evening. It ended with us singing as we left the Madi and then eating pizza. I think most everyone at Pizza Pizza was probably drunk. But it was still a lot of fun. I ended up staying with Tess since it was after 3am. I promptly spent time smothering her cat, Marlie with kisses and snuggles. He was a good sport and never squirmed as I probably held him a little too tightly.

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully at home. But, this brings us to shawarmas. The fab 5 has made a Shawarma Wednesday. After David's Research Methods class we seem to find ourselves in need of a pick-me-up. So, we find ourselves at La-Zeez for chicken shawarmas. Fran and I think they are just about the greatest thing in the world. And since every time we go in we get a falafel from a man who works there. We have dubbed him our "father." And have begun a new tradition. He also gave us free chocolate as we left the store.

So things are going well. I managed to channel Ingrid Bergman in my Robert Capa presentation--Capa and Ingrid had a love affair together. But, I feel as though I did all right. I can't wait until my last one is done. But in three weeks, I'll have my wish.

Meanwhile, the leaves are changing colours and falling. My mother is coming up tomorrow. So, it's back to life and back to my current weekend.

The First Snowflakes and Some Life Lessons

2006-10-12T21:23:00.000-05:00

Today Toronto had its first flurries. I was walking home and then suddenly these beautiful white flakes enveloped me. I actually danced a little with my ipod playing. I'm almost positive I'll get sick of snow within a few months, but it was still a welcomed treat. Although, I'm hoping that there will still be time to enjoy the smells and sights of fall. I'm really enjoying the foliage.

Still, it's a shock to me to see snow this early in October. I know it didn't stick, but still. I wasn't wearing my winter jacket! Of course by now I've dug it from the closet. And it's on its peg near my boots.

My mother has finally gotten a job. Ironically with a company based in Canada. Not far from Toronto. I still think it's almost too perfect how life manages to intertwine itself in some way. Either way, I'm happy for her. She deserves this. So I wish her the best in her new beginning.

I've learned that the advice that makes you angriest and hurts the most, is probably the best advice for you. It's because you can't bear to believe the self-destructive path you're on is the wrong one. And because it takes so much strength to change it--after so many years of the same vicious cycle. How do you finally stand your ground?

I know I'm guilty of running away when I get scared or vulnerable or trapped. I know that in some way coming here to Toronto just wasn't a new beginning, but a way to run. In the end, I feel I made peace with as much of my past as I could, but I can't help feeling that coming here was an escape.

Maybe it was. Maybe it was the right thing to do. Only time will tell. But have learned this much, no matter how hard it gets here--and it will, I've already had my moments--I can't give up. I cannot run away. For once in my life, I need to stand strong. I've spent so much time trying to fight fears in my life--fear of heights, fear of falling, fear of nakedness, fear of swimming, fear of failure--that this is just another fear I have to fight. I've worked so hard for this adventure; I can't possibly back down the first time I get scared. I can't.

I need to put my money where my preaching is. And stand up. And stay. Because I know that this program and Toronto are the best things to ever happen to me. And a direct result of some of the greatest things that ever happened to me. So maybe I'll take the advice that hurt so bad. Because I want to define myself up here, eh. Not to prove that the woman I am capable of being is not the woman I am going to become.

Because I refuse to give up like that. So I'm standing, in the first snowfall, proving to myself that I'm not running this time, eh.

Thanksgiving. Canadian Style.

2006-10-09T14:44:00.000-05:00

I go with no posts for a while and then spring them on you all at once. I'm like that. Happy Thanksgiving. I figured today I'd relax and do some housekeeping--this, of course, includes blogging. I have had an eventful week since Kat left.

I'll start with the Tuesday trip to the George Eastman House in Rochester, NY. Of course, we all know that George is the founder of Kodak and his house is now a major museum for photography and film. And huge into conservation. And with a large archive. If you didn't know, now you do. So we got to go into a special viewing room and basically stare for five hours at photographs that most people would be lucky to see behind glass for $10 dollars in their lifetime.

It was an incredible experience to say the least. I saw an original Matthew Brady daguerreotype. Along with two original Hill and Adamson salted paper prints that date back to 1845. Not to mention original O'Sullivan, Weston, Barnard, Baldus, Atget, Stieglitz, Cameron and Marville. Maybe you only know one or two names or none, but they are really well know to most photographers. Especially those who study the history. It was 14 hours of photography goodness. These are the days that get me more and more excited about the field I am going into.

Wednesday was my presentation. I'd hardly slept before, I was so busy preparing after getting back from Rochester. It went all right, but I thought I was going to poke my eyes out after sitting in class for over 4 hours. I then went with the Fab 5 (myself, Fran, Tess, Ali and Nadia) to get shawarmas. I napped until Shannon showed up and my house to drink my day away with some wine.

That turned into a long night and then I couldn't sleep at all. I stumbled out of bed by 9:30am and seemed unable to do much. This made Mike's class all the more hard for me. And I was so excited because we did calotypes, ambrotypes and collodion prints. I will say now that I think ambrotypes are one of my most favorite processes from the 19th century. Even more so than the daguerreotype, which is still like watching a magic trick.

This leads up to movie night Friday with the Parliament House family where Squash Matt (I live with two) rented Inside Man. It was a nice quiet family evening.

Saturday I went to the AGO with Shannon where we saw the Andy Warhol exhibit. I was pretty impressed with the curation of the exhibit. Except for one large error and that was mixing up the paneling of this one diptych. While listening to the handheld audio tour, he noticed that they mentioned the blank red panel was on the right side. Now, I mix my right and left up too sometimes, but clearly, it was on the left and not the right. Somebody wasn't paying any attention.

I also managed to learn a lot about Warhol. I didn't know he was gay or that anyone attempted to assassinate him. I also learned he was pretty obsessed with the idea that death made people celebrities and how being a celebrity was like death and just death in general. Including his own. And he wore wigs. He like 12 of them. Who knew? So, I enjoyed myself.

I then proceeded to ignore my hunger and drink a cafe mocha. Then we sat around talking until we both got the shakes and had to go home to find food or else pass out. I'm so irresponsible when it comes to coffee.

After dinner, Granville, Squash Matt and I take a trip to buy some alcohol at the Beer Store. Greatest invention in the world. You stare at a huge wall with prices of different kinds of beer, you order the beer and then your beer comes out on a conveyer belt of sorts. Brilliant.

Shannon came back over just as we were drinking and watching Legally Blond. My roommates have taste. Then we wandered over to an Irish pub for a pint or two, just to get out the house and have a little fun. Which we managed to. Until later that night when Shannon dropped me on my head. So then, I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night--just in case it was a concussion. Wtf.

So Sunday, sleep deprived and all I cook Thanksgiving dinner. I had maybe two hours of sleep. Then I cooked for six hours. Turkey, stuffing, pumpkin and apple pie, potatoes, squash and homemade whip cream. It was awesome. The entire house helped me cook, prep and clean up. And it tasted amazing. Tess also came over to help and eat. The Parliament Family managed to polish off most of the food, including two pies by Monday (which is the actually Thanksgiving, but who's counting).

After dinner and pie, I pretty much just passed out. There was no way I was going to keep my eyes open. Not after so much cooking and such a good meal. But I loved it. Even when the pie crust kept giving me a hard time. We have so many leftover apples, I'm going to make another pie. If anyone's around in Toronto that seems a little hungry for pie. Otherwise, leave it to Granville and Squash Matt to eat it all. We all toasted to the holiday with our thanks for the Parliament House--and for Tess.

And in closing, since it is Thanksgiving, I guess I'll be cliche and say the things I'm thankful for here in Toronto--especially since I was bummed this morning to find out my car is officially gone. I'm thankful for the Parliament House Family, the Fab 5, the PPCM program, art and more art, the Toronto skyline, Smarties, Shannon (since he doesn't have a group), Tim Hortons, warm boots, street cars, lots of coffee, the Beer Store and city lights, eh.

And they call New York the city that never sleeps...

2006-10-02T22:05:00.001-05:00

...but this Saturday, it was Toronto, the host of "Nuit Blanche" an all night, city-wide art experience. 140 different sites, food, music, art, art and more art. And did I mention free chocolate? It was originally started in Paris and Toronto sort of just picked up the idea. The rain and cold weather only slightly dampened the fun (and made it good for jumping in puddles) but it was the best evening to be had for fun. And how perfect that Kat was here for it. This event became more or less Part One of her trip to Toronto.

Of course any cold and rainy even must start with a pub visit. Of course, after going to get Shannon (the Australian), our pub visit lasted over three hours. But since the "dynamic duo" were back again, we had to make the best of the situation and tell the most embarrassing stories of each other. But once we'd drained our last pints, we'd decided since the rain had stopped, we'd go out in search of art.

I'm not sure what I liked best. Galleries had their doors open all around town and we wandered in and out staring at several different paintings and had tea. We also ran around U of T seeing screenings at pools and playing around the fog at Philosophers Walk. Where some guy (probably more drunk than us) ran, tripped over the fog machines and went tumbling down the hill. It was as rude as it was funny. And it was pretty funny. There were lots of screenings in the street and some exhibits around. I remember there was someone who put up these panels of people who emailed him artwork and little things. It was really cool.

There was this light up dance floor where Kat and I decided to dance. Shannon stood off all by his lonesome self. We also saw a lot of performance art. There was this long table with beautiful cakes and a woman in Victorian clothes. They were sitting there eating cake for 12 hours. It was all about city opulance and excessiveness. Ouch.

There were also random dancers that dressed as police officers. They hopped out of cars, danced the tango, got back in and drove off. It was brilliant. We saw it probably two or three times. For a while, we hung out at OCAD where there were games and food and we could sit down and stay dry. That's really what counted as it started to rain again.

I also learned what poutine is. Apparently it's like cheese curds and gravy. Canadians like it on their fries. I haven't tried it yet, but when I finally do, I will be sure to share with you if it's any good and exactly what it takes like.

Shannon walked Kat and I home by 6:30am where Kat and I sat up and chatted before passing out sometime after 7am. It was long day for the both of us. Day 2 was spent mostly sleeping and hanging out with my roommates. But finally we got up to grab food at the Eaton Centre (where I had wannabe Chipotle....how I miss you) and then we headed to the CN tower.

It was dark out, so it was amazing to see the city. I was so impressed with how beautiful the city looked. It was fun to just look around and take pictures. I looked down at the buildings and cars and realized that I was a part of the city now. A part of these people's lives in some way. It's incredible to think of it when you're standing up so high and staring down on little buildings. They had once enveloped you and looked so huge and now they are so small. I realized that I belong in Toronto and once again, no matter where I go, I've found myself home.

I'm happy that Kat could be here to see it. I'm just a small girl, with big city dreams. And from up there, anything seemed possible. And my independence saw where it's wings had taken me. I have fought and struggled so hard to get it and it was an affirmation that I've done it all right in the end. More importantly, it proved that I can get the better of my fears.

Monday brought class and then it was time to take Kat to the airport. Sadly, we were delayed on our subway train at the Jane stop. And do you know why? Apparently there was some medical emergency that warrented a 30 minute delay. No one was even carried off in a stretcher. Some emergency. I got Kat on the 192 bus and headed back home. She called me a little later and said she'd missed check in for her flight so they had to put her on a later one. I felt so bad. But of course, it was just another story in our adventure. I missed our adventures. I was happy to have another weekend of them. That meant everything to me.

It made me miss DC in a way. But Kat told me she was happy to see the life I've made for me. There's class that I love--photography is why I get up every morning--and the girls I hang out with who I call the Fab 5. Then there's my roommates who I adore and we have become the Parliament House Family--we drink together, eat together and watch TV together. And then there's even Shannon, who I can count on to go enjoy art with me and get me drunk when I have a shitty day. And so I have an Australian accent to listen to since I no longer have Saturdays at the Equipment Room.

So this weekend has been a success. And now it's on to my week filled with presentations, the George Eastman House and of course the upcoming Canadian Thanksgiving.

Making a Daguerreotype

2006-09-28T17:37:00.000-05:00

"A good daguerreotype was as perfect a kind of photograph as was ever made." ~Edward Steichen

The most incredible thing happened today, we made daguerreotypes. The real things. We actually did it according to the 1839 instructions by Daguerre himself. If you're not a photographer at all, watching this process will make you one. I understand and know the chemistry behind it, but it still feels like magic when it happens.

Our professor, Mike, is the sole daguerreotypist in all of Canada. So he's an authority on this subject. He showed us Daguerre's method for making a daguerreotype. I'll retell it here, because it really is magic. First, you need to take a copper plate that is coated in silver. It's really made by taking silver and copper metals and rolling them together several times until you get a bonded, thin plate.

The plate (silver side up of course) is polished with pumice powder and olive oil. Pressure is applied using a rag to polish the surface. After doing that a few times, the plate is rinsed with a spray of 0.5% of nitric acid and then wiped off. Then it's done again until the surface is extremely shiny. This gets out any chemical impurities. When it's ready, the plate is buffed with a velvet pad and then checked for dust. Sadly, this process takes about 20 minutes and usually induces sweating.

Next, the plate is put silver side down, in a special box. Then it is exposed to iodine vapors. This is the halogen the sensitizes the plate. It turns the silver to Silver Iodide, which is the light sensitive substance. After about 30 seconds, the plate is checked to make sure it is a dark yellow. Then, it is taken in a darkroom with the safelights on, exposed for 10 more seconds and then put in the film holder.

The exposure was 20 minutes at about f16 of the street. It was a landscape and while that was taking we heated up the mercury vapor to 158 degrees to get the right saturation of mercury. Mercury is what will act as a developer for the plate.

When the twenty minutes is up, the cover is returned on the film holder and the case is taken into the darkroom where it the plate is removed and put in the mercury bath. The plate will sit in the mercury bath for another 20 minutes until fully developed.

After developing the plate is put in a tray and sodium thiosulphate (or thiosulfate, depending the country you are in) is poured evenly over the plate. This is the fixer and only has to react with the plate for maybe a minute. Then the fixer is poured out and several rinses of distilled water are poured over the plate and agitated.

After the plate is rinsed, it is gripped with pliers and held over an alcohol lamp. The lamp is moved back and forth along the back of the plate, drying off the remaining water.

And like magic, over and hour later, you have a 1839 daguerreotype. It really was magic. What was even more incredible about today is that I got to touch polished, unused daguerreotype plates that belong to Southworth and Hawes. I was practically shaking it was so unbelievable. Those two owned an upscale studio in Boston during the height of the daguerreotype. They are considered masters of the craft and if you ever see a Southworth and Hawes, you will understand. Making a daguerreotype is hard.

The process we learned today was just the first official version of the daguerreotype. Within the next 10-14 years, during the golden years of the daguerreotype, the process was changed and complicated. New halogens were added, galvanizing, guilding, toning, coloring and other changes were implemented to improve the tonal quality and shorten exposure time. It's mind boggling how many different variations there are to the daguerreotype.

Yet, no matter how it is made, the daguerreotype is incredible. It was like watching the 19th century come alive in that studio. Both chemistry and a magic trick. I can only imagine what 1839 must have been like when people saw a daguerreotype for the first time. I love our past, it makes me proud. There's something inspiring in the things we invent, triumph over, create or the way things change life forever.

Part of knowing where we're going is knowing where we came from. And to think, I'm going to have a part of preserving that past for our future. It's a pretty powerful feeling.

Fall in the City

2006-09-25T12:43:00.001-05:00

"Canada is a country whose main exports are hockey players and cold fronts. Our main imports are baseball players and acid rain." ~Pierre E. Trudeau

Fall has arrived and with that hockey pre-season. Now I am starting to understand the Canadian obsession with hockey. It's everywhere. In other news, I finally got the hang of the subway and street cars. The buses will have to come at a later date, but shouldn't be that bad. It's just hard to find the street car stops because they don't do a very good job of marking them. And in the rain, it's rather easy to walk right by them.

Canadian TV commercials, to put it bluntly, are just strange. They are either ridiculous jingles (such as the Cadbury commercial jingle set to a Beach Boys song) to the "milk rap" to the Sunsilk hair commercials that take place in a women's room where three girls talk about sex and almost nothing about hair. I haven't quick gotten used to how odd they are.

I'm eating Smarties at the moment. Not the sugary-sweet candy in the States, but the kind you find in places like Britain. They are the chocolate candies that sort of want to be M&Ms but have a different taste. I think they're good. In fact, I haven't seen a Snickers in a while. Instead Canadians have lots of Cadbury candy, Smarties, Aero bars, Coffee Crisp and Bounty. I actually have to admit I prefer this candy to the candy in the States. I can't tell you why and I have a terrible sweet tooth. Thumbs up for Canadian tasty treats.

Canada has also launched a major "Peanut Free" campaign for candy, granola bars and other things that used to say "may contain peanuts" on the packaging. They're trying to make things more "friendly" for the people with peanut allergies. So the package of my Smarties read "Peanut Free" and "Sans arachides."

Best Buy just had a Grand Opening two weeks ago. So, they hosted artists in Dundas Square for free concerts. I went to the John Mayer concert that Saturday with girls from my program. He was awesome. And it was free.

I admit, I have a lot on my plate this week, including an interview, but I'm just excited to get it done so I can have Kat come visit this weekend. I am so excited! My first visitor here in the True North. I hope I can show her just what a great city Toronto has been so far.

And to take to her to her first on-campus pub. Because American University was a dry campus there wasn't a pub, but Ryerson isn't. And aside from eating "street meat" on campus (aka: hot dog vendors) there's a cool pub the boast cheap eats, beer and pool. It's nice to have a place to hang out that's not the Tavern at AU. The only downfall, Toronto is colder than DC ever was.

Sacrifices had to be made. I've got my winter boots ready.

These Dirty Feet Were Worth it

2006-09-15T22:48:00.002-05:00

So, today began the exciting adventure of exploring Toronto. Let me start by saying that I must have walked about 10km today. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but my feet certainly feel it. They have also collected half of the dirt in the city, which is a little bit gross. I look forward to washing them when I complete this entry.

I spent most of the day exploring the Harbourfront. I also road my very first streetcar. It was enjoyable, though I find Toronto's subway system much less user-friendly than DC's and that saddens me a little. It also makes me look like an idiot when I walk in circles.

I actually spent the day exploring the Harbourfront with an Australian friend of Ben's. Turns out him and I come from 12,000 miles from each other and happen to be studying in the same Canadian city at the same time. So, we took it as an opportunity to explore a new city together.

Wouldn't you know that in the first five minutes of being at the harbour I find a tall ship? The 'Empire Sandy' is her name. And she's beautiful. I know all of my friends who've sailed with me have to agree. It was nice to stand by the water for a while and walk along the docks. It felt a little bit like being back at the Marina.

I think Toronto has a beautiful waterfront. It's just hidden past the Gardiner Parkway, which is a little daunting. They even rent sailboats down at Queen's Quay! Perhaps, I will have to get a crew together and go sailing in the spring.

We also walked over the famous footbridge from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding." Yes, the film takes place in Chicago, but it was filmed in Toronto.

After a late lunch at the Duke of Richmond pub, we headed over to the Skydome, now called Rodger Centre. It will always be the Skydome to me. But I digress. The Blue Jays played the Devil Rays and in an exciting ninth inning managed to tie the Devil Rays 3-3. I thought in the tenth inning it was over the Jays when the Rays scored another run. But the Jays scored the only homerun of the game that brought the score to 5-4. It was incredible, the Jays actually won.

I have to admit, I really got into it after awhile. You know me, screaming, shouting at the players. I get excited easily. But it was pretty incredible to look up and see the CN tower.

I managed to stumble home feeling pretty content. I have a new-found love for this city. I'm starting to feel at home here. I promise that once my room is cleaned up tomorrow, I'll take pictures of the apartment. The new Matt is still moving in so the place is still a little torn up.

This is a city full of beauty in some unlikely places. I could spend all day just watching people or walking through neighbourhoods. There's just something about Toronto that has me excited. Maybe it's the people I meet, or the places I go. It could even be the small differences that make me feel intrigued. But that's for another entry. Toronto has the height of NY, the waterfront of Chicago, the nostaglia of DC and a sound all it's own.

Were my dirty aching feet worth it?

If I Were at a Canadian Spelling Bee...

2006-09-13T16:01:00.001-05:00

I would spell things the British way. Seriously. Lots of extra "u"s and "e"s. Words that I find spelled like the Brits are:

chequing
centre
theatre
harbourfront
programme

And so on. That ought to excite all my anglofile friends out there. Everything is also in French and English. So sometimes, I confuse myself for trying to read the French side as English. This is not advised as it won't help very much.

I'm standing in line at Financial Aid today and someone asked me if the line was for OSAP. I said I didn't know. OSAP is Ontario aid and scholarships of sorts. I am clearly not eligible, but I explained I had forms to hand in for international loans. So the guy asked where I was from. And I said the US and blushed. It feels strange to say international, but yet I'm a three hour drive from Toronto. Yet, he smiled and nodded.

Another confusing aspect of Canadian culture everyone in the States calls "Native Americans" Canadians call "Aboriginals" or "Natives." Well, every time I hear or read Aboriginal, I think of Australia. And it's taken me a while to be able to differentiate the two. I still think boomerangs and kangaroos when I hear it.

And that's about that. I had Research Methods today, a class that promises to be intimidating. I'm headed to the harbourfront this Friday and to a Jays game. I promise to have my camera fully functional by then--after all, all words and no pictures are rather boring.

With my life coming together up North and the rain still coming down, it's time for some Canadian programmes and reading. I'm taking things slow here, eh.

They Have Curling, but They Don't Have Beer Pong

2006-09-12T13:24:00.001-05:00

It appears that the popular college fraternity and sorority sport of beer pong is a "States" thing. I, myself am not very good at the sport or care for it too much, other than the fact people seem to get better the more they drink. And considering how much hand-eye coordination the game takes, I find it a little puzzling. But, as I learned last night, many Canadians have only participated in the sport if they went to college in the US, like one of my roommates.

They have curling, which involves ice and brooms, but they don't have a sport that involves beer and ping pong balls. This from the country with beer that has a higher alcoholic content than in the US. Yes, you will get drunk faster off Canadian beer. I have yet to try this, so I can offer you no proof so far.

With the Toronto Film Festival, everyone is talking about star sightings. This is a new phenomenon as in the District, we merely got excited about polititans. And to be honest, they aren't that exciting. But, I'm suddenly caught up in the craze. I'm happy to report that as a big Degrassi: TNG fan (go look it up if you don't know, it's a Canadian show filmed in Toronto) I actually saw a kid from it last night on my way to Food Basics (a cheap grocery store). I was confused at first how I knew him until I heard his voice. He only had a few minor roles as a friend to Liberty's brother, but still, I was excited.

Not to mention, I've discovered the location of Degrassi Street in Toronto and am proud to report it exists--for the small number of you that would care.

Daily, I find more about Canada that I love, and more that proves I'm really somplace new. After all, they don't watch American Idol, they watch Canadian Idol. They don't eat Mac 'n Cheese, they eat KD. They don't have gallon jugs of milk, they have milk in bags. No joke.

Somedays I think Canada is more European than "American" or "States-ish" as I call it now. After all, they have the Queen on the back of their coins.

Greetings from Across an International Border

2006-09-11T15:09:00.001-05:00

So finally, the long-awaited adventure has begun. I'm sorry it took me so long to finally get here, but life seems to be going in fast forward. As I walked to school Wednesday morning, I saw the CN tower and it affirmed the reality...I'm in Toronto, Canada. I don't even know where to begin; I've forgotten where the beginning really is.

So far, starting over a second time has proved easier and far more frustrating--as much of an oxymoron as it is. I believe moving internationally has something to do with it. Yes, I've come here to prove Canada is a different country from the US. Since I've grown up with Canada as my closest neighbor--yes closer than any other US state-- I feel I came knowing more than some others. So for a quick recap of the few things I came knowing:

Canada is on the metric system (however, you still find most things in feet at stores, especially when it applies to housewares)
They have 1 dollar and 2 dollar coins -- a "Loonie" = 1 dollar and a "Two-nie" is 2 dollars
"Eh" is a common form of speech and they do pronounce "o" differently...Which explains why we say "aboot" when we talk "Canadian"

But there's plenty of things I had no idea about. Which, if you're from the US and think Canada is just a large 51st state: you're completely wrong. First of all, when applying for a bank account, I immediately got a bank card. Strange, in the US you wait for days to get it.

There is also a store in Toronto called "Canadian Tire," but it sells anything but tires. It's actually like a housewares store and a sporting goods store in one. And I have yet to see tires there other than ones on bikes. It sort of reminded me of the Christmas Tree Shops in New England.

Something else that I have yet to understand is why at some grocery stores they charge 5 cents for bags. My suggestion? Bring your own bags to the store. It was a little embarrassing to carry home toilet paper, granola bars and water without a bag.

I live in Old Cabbagetown. The basic history of my area is that it was one of the poorest areas of Toronto when most of the immigrants were Irish. They grew cabbages in their front yard because that's all they could afford. Now, it's known for it's old Victorian homes and high (in the words explained to me by Canadians) "brown" population. Though I hate putting it that way, it feels wrong. But, I'm merely restating what was earlier said to me--to be fair.

My roommates are extremely diverse. There are four of them. Three of them are Canadian and male, the other one is a girl from Tanzania. They are all really different people and living with guys is certainly a change from before, especially since I share a bathroom with them. And we all know that I have a tendency to be a clean freak. But with fascinating roommates, I should be in for some fun. Not to mention, I'm the only one from the States, how amazing is that? Yeah, only a rare few get excited to be in the minority. I just feel as though I will learn a lot from them.

And lastly, my program. Canadian schools don't baby their students, so I'm finding out a lot of stuff I have to do on my own. Like enrolling in health insurance (yay for socialism and universal healthcare) or financial aid (which apparently is available). All I can say is, I'm feeling my way blindly through a cave with nothing more than a small stick. And that's the frustrating part, trying to get aid before it's too late and even more importantly trying to get money for my rent.

Side note: the frustrating part is it takes 20 days for US checks to clear. And it's a pain in the ass to wire money. So, we've had to settle for wiring money. Though it's costly. There was also and issue with cellphones and I had to change providers to get a North American plan. Canadian cell plans suck for any long distance calling. US plans suck for roaming charges. It was hard to get what I want. And to think, I live THREE HOURS away. I could almost use smoke signals.

Back to school. I've only been to one class, Historical Processes and it promises to be a lot of work. But I'm excited to go in depth to photography in a way I've only barely touched on before. To better understand theory and social context, to understand deterioration and cataloging collections and even the chemistry behind the conservation of photographs. It all seems new and exciting right now.

But that's the thing about photography it's both a science and an art. So, in the end I never have to sacrifice what I love.

Like Toronto, it's near home, but it's another country away.

The Official Dates

2006-07-14T12:49:00.001-05:00

Today my first packet from Ryerson University came. With plenty of information of the upcoming year and about our orientation. It will all begin on September 6th, 2006. For the first time since getting my acceptance letter, I am nervous about going.

I'm about to start at square one, not knowing anyone or where to go or what to expect. Everything is going to be so unknown to me. But I'm ready to redefine my comfort zone. I would rather live life than live in fear of what I don't know or understand.

This is my chance to prove I am strong enough to step out on my own. Once again.

The District, Graduation and a first glimpse at Toronto

2006-05-21T12:35:00.001-05:00

"It is the journey that matters in the end." ~Ursula LeGuin

And so I have said goodbye to four years of my life.

So, Hye-Jin (my other half) and I decided to make a trip to the FDR to talk and say goodbye. She's never been and I hadn't been in a very long time.

It was a beautiful night and I said my goodbyes to the District and turned my head towards the next morning: graduation.

I don't remember much of graduation. I was in shock. But it felt surreal-- I knew it was coming but four years seemed an eternity away. It's funny how fast it really goes.

Proud AU graduates in Bender Arena. School of International Service and School of Communication (go SOC...that's my school) in attendance.

My two brothers and my brother's girlfriend flew in for the day. It felt good knowing my family was there to cheer me on. I'm the first of the three of us to graduate college. So it's a big deal for my family.

My ROOMIE! My old roomie, at least. One last ridiculous picture for old times sake now that we're "adults." And now after four years together, our paths have parted. She is to remain behind in DC to find a job and I am going back to school to learn more. And put myself into debt more.

Trust me when I say I feel, keenly, the people and things I have left behind. Without realizing it, DC truly became home this year. And in turn, I get up and leave...

For Toronto. After being in Rochester, NY for only one day, I'm back to traveling. This time, to Toronto, the place of my future, the place where this blog is supposed to begin.

And so, I will begin by admitting that I love Canada already. The Canadians are truly friendly--I met a few at a bar the night we were there. They really do have awesome accents, "about" is said "aboot" and they are all about the Toronto Maple Leafs. So far, I find Toronto metropolitan and laid-back, friendly version of New York City--cleaner too according to them.

One day out of DC and already into Toronto. I'm ready for the city life again, for the busy streets, the bright lights and people everywhere. It's a place where you never feel alone and it feels warm and welcoming, unlike most cities. The District often had a feeling of loneliness and isolation in a sea of greedy people, but Toronto feels nothing like it. Perhaps going up to the True North this year will soften the cynicism I've acquired over the years. I'm hoping to work out my place in the art scene and even in the world.

I know that I will thrive in Toronto. I already feel it. But since summer is here, Toronto seems miles away and I'm living for the moment--for those endless summer nights. I've learned to live for the moment now, to enjoy without stressing too much about the burdens of the future, because it won't stop them coming and it will spoil the day in front of me. So, until August 1st, I am not worrying about Toronto or the things to come. But know that soon they will come and I will be ready.

Note: I started this entry at the end of May, but didn't finish it until July 10th. My summer is alive, well and in full swing. I'm working at a marina and loving life by the water. I meet several Canadians a week and many of them from Toronto. They have given me advice, encouragement and congratulations. Even from far away, they seem ready to welcome me to their country.

A new beginning from an end...

2006-04-24T22:29:00.001-05:00

I am less than three weeks away from my graduation from American University. I'll admit that I'm a mix of emotions--from excitment, to fear, to the realization that this is the last time I will do this or that. I was in an elevator the other day and I suddenly realized that soon I'll never step foot in that elevator; I easily recalled the many memories from it. It's a scary feeling to leave behind something that was such a strong part of your life for four years.

But as I leave American University, I have a new beginning. I'm going to start in the Fall as a graduate student at Ryerson University. That's in Toronto, Canada for your information. I'll be spending a year there and a year in my hometown of Rochester, NY studying photographic preservation and collections management. And as I move north of the US and Washington, DC I want to share with everyone my adventures and trials from Toronto.

I haven't been to Toronto for more than a day since I was six and I want the chance to maybe change everyone's minds about Canada--I want to prove to all those "hosers" or non-believers out there that Canada has a rich and exciting culture all it's own. I also promise to include photographs to enhance the experience--I am a photographer, after all.

So stay tuned, I'll be visiting Ryerson University this summer, finding housing, getting my schedule and come September I promise to share all of my stories with you. I thank American University, Washington DC and everyone I have meet here for an incredible four years filled with ups and downs and I hope that Ryerson University and Canada bring another two memorable years.

"Oh Canada, we stand on guard for thee"