Kiwi: "Ice cream for dinner is the mark of adulthood!"
Strawberry: "Ha! You should make that your Facebook status!"
Kiwi: "No! Then my mum will find out I had ice cream for dinner!"
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Cookie Jar Treasure
Yesterday my landlords gave me my mail (and also tried to fix the blown fuse in my suite unsuccessfully and unknowledgeably). A big box made me squeal as I knew what was inside. My mushroom cookie jar! I found it on etsy while looking for a similar owl cookie jar from modern family. Not wanting to spend $100 + shipping, I stumbled across this wee* mushroom cookie jar from Gallivanting Girls. I have often visited their store to look at all the amazing things they manage to find and resell. I'm itching to go out to my favourite thrift stores now!
I have already put cookies in it so Kiwi can open and grab instead of dealing with noisy crinkly packaging that drives me up the wall. People who know me will understand my pet peeve with crinkly noises. Especially at the movies. Well, no longer!
-Strawberry
*Kiwi's regular word for "small"
I have already put cookies in it so Kiwi can open and grab instead of dealing with noisy crinkly packaging that drives me up the wall. People who know me will understand my pet peeve with crinkly noises. Especially at the movies. Well, no longer!
-Strawberry
*Kiwi's regular word for "small"
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The Battle Begins
Since Kiwi started his new job in February I have gained 15lbs (6.8kg). I'm not proud of it, and have tried to ignore it over the last few months thinking that it might go away on it's own. Weight fluctuates. I'm just adjusting to my metabolism slowing down, I'm not in my teens anymore. At first I thought Kiwi had shrunk all my jeans in the laundry but I soon realised that the pants didn't get smaller, my butt had gotten bigger. I've never been one to obsess over their weight, going to the gym or dieting. I've gone along in my life, happy with who and how I was. I don't mind being curvy and I certainly do not approve of starving myself to be a size 0, but putting on this much weight in a short amount of time is not a healthy thing. It is also not doing anything for my attitude.
I often find myself depressed with how I look. My clothes don't fit, I have new stretch marks, I am generally upset when I look in the mirror. Why am I blogging about this, you may ask?
I am going to change.
If I blog about my struggle to lose weight, it might motivate me. A documentation and a written self-encouragement. Since Kiwi is not home during the day most of my battles will be done alone. I have time during the day between work to go for a walk, do some exercises, or go to yoga.
I am hoping not to just lose weight, but to gain muscle. Making it easier for my metabolism and my body to digest the food I eat and burn the fat I aquire. I love food. I don't intend on limiting myself in that department, but I will be more mindful of what food I eat.
My first step was digging out my running shoes. After yoga yesterday afternoon, the sun decided to poke it's head out for a while. I snagged the opportunity, threw on my shoes and popped in some earbuds and power walked up a nearby hill to Dragonette. After about 15 minutes of power walking and a short jog my lungs were fit to burst and I couldn't feel my legs anymore. Pathetic, I know, but once I got in the door I felt a huge sense of relief. I was finally on my way to becoming who I want to be.
-Strawberry
I often find myself depressed with how I look. My clothes don't fit, I have new stretch marks, I am generally upset when I look in the mirror. Why am I blogging about this, you may ask?
I am going to change.
If I blog about my struggle to lose weight, it might motivate me. A documentation and a written self-encouragement. Since Kiwi is not home during the day most of my battles will be done alone. I have time during the day between work to go for a walk, do some exercises, or go to yoga.
I am hoping not to just lose weight, but to gain muscle. Making it easier for my metabolism and my body to digest the food I eat and burn the fat I aquire. I love food. I don't intend on limiting myself in that department, but I will be more mindful of what food I eat.
My first step was digging out my running shoes. After yoga yesterday afternoon, the sun decided to poke it's head out for a while. I snagged the opportunity, threw on my shoes and popped in some earbuds and power walked up a nearby hill to Dragonette. After about 15 minutes of power walking and a short jog my lungs were fit to burst and I couldn't feel my legs anymore. Pathetic, I know, but once I got in the door I felt a huge sense of relief. I was finally on my way to becoming who I want to be.
My "cute little running shoes," says Kiwi
-Strawberry
Friday, April 22, 2011
Friday Friends: White Rock Beach
Kiwi and I took a spontaneous drive out to Peace Arch Park and White Rock beach for a walk in the sun. Living in a rainy city, the sun is something most people here in Vancouver take advantage of the moment it appears. Despite only being around 10 degrees out, Peace Arch Park was bustling with activity. Families enjoying a picnic, volleyball and a short walk to get a picture with the arch.
A short drive down Beach Road we found a parking spot not far from the steps down to the beach. Quaint beach houses lining the small sandy road sparked my own desire for a home along the water. Every summer I would go up the Sunshine coast to visit my grandparents in Powell River. Most of that time was spent on the beach, on the lake or visiting family. On one trip we went for dinner my uncle's house that was directly on the water where you could walk out of the living room and be in the ocean within 10 seconds. Descending the rusty stairs to the beach I was instantly brought back to that fond memory, splashing in the ocean with my uncle, cousin, mom and my uncle's dog, Butch.
I easily kicked off my flats, entrusting them to a nearby rock near the stairs. Smiling to myself, I saw the other beach-goers had done the same with their belongings. An unspoken trust. The tide was out which left 300 meters of sand to explore before the shallow surf even began. Enjoying the soft sand between my toes which I hadn't felt since my cousin and I had visited almost a year ago, Kiwi and I held hands and headed out to sea. The wind picked up the closer we got to the ocean so we decided to head back to the car.
At the bottom of the stairs, Kiwi and I noticed a train chugging along which would block our crossing to the car. I hastily brushed the wet sand off my feet and stepped into my shoes hoping to beat the train. Climbing the rickety stairs we easily beat the slow moving engine and sat in the car waiting for it to pass so Kiwi could have a look.
We drove home into the sun with the sunkissed, sandy feeling on our skin as a salty reminder of our little trip to the beach.
A short drive down Beach Road we found a parking spot not far from the steps down to the beach. Quaint beach houses lining the small sandy road sparked my own desire for a home along the water. Every summer I would go up the Sunshine coast to visit my grandparents in Powell River. Most of that time was spent on the beach, on the lake or visiting family. On one trip we went for dinner my uncle's house that was directly on the water where you could walk out of the living room and be in the ocean within 10 seconds. Descending the rusty stairs to the beach I was instantly brought back to that fond memory, splashing in the ocean with my uncle, cousin, mom and my uncle's dog, Butch.
I easily kicked off my flats, entrusting them to a nearby rock near the stairs. Smiling to myself, I saw the other beach-goers had done the same with their belongings. An unspoken trust. The tide was out which left 300 meters of sand to explore before the shallow surf even began. Enjoying the soft sand between my toes which I hadn't felt since my cousin and I had visited almost a year ago, Kiwi and I held hands and headed out to sea. The wind picked up the closer we got to the ocean so we decided to head back to the car.
At the bottom of the stairs, Kiwi and I noticed a train chugging along which would block our crossing to the car. I hastily brushed the wet sand off my feet and stepped into my shoes hoping to beat the train. Climbing the rickety stairs we easily beat the slow moving engine and sat in the car waiting for it to pass so Kiwi could have a look.
We drove home into the sun with the sunkissed, sandy feeling on our skin as a salty reminder of our little trip to the beach.
-Strawberry
Monday, April 18, 2011
The More Things Stay The Same (pt.3)
This is the conclusion to a new, three part series called The More Things Stay The Same.
Kids these days. You've seen them, the way they dress, the crap they listen to, and don't even talk to me about how disobedient they are. Back in my day music was proper, movies had class and we bloody well knew what funny was. And by golly children respected their elders. These days nothing makes any sense, "Black Eyed Peas", what kind of name for a band is that? And I don't particularly know, or care to know, what a "Jersey Shore" is but it can't be anything good.
Who would of guessed today's generation of youngsters would be the worst thing to come along in the last several eons. Before 1990 every child knew their place, spoke when spoken to and did all their chores. Ate their greens too, or so I've heard. If the modern youth are what the future holds for the world then I fear for civilization and civility. Thank goodness the generations that preceded the little punks managed to keep the world in a stable and pleasant state for as long as they did.
My mother recalled to me once, how my grandfather had made a similar observation regarding the shape of things, in particular the entertainment during what was then the early 1970's. What are now considered indisputable classics were utter nonsense in his eyes. For the likes of Monty Python, now the epitome of comedy, perhaps we can sympathize to a certain degree, of course my grandfather also made a point to criticize the horrendous music of the day, a lively troupe of hip young gentlemen who called themselves The Beatles.
Surely my grandfather was an anomaly of the time, a rare individual indeed. After all, who in their right mind would be bold enough, dare I say tasteless enough, to not enjoy the hilarious comedy stylings of John Cleese and company, or dance excitedly to Can't Buy Me Love? However, perhaps his brand of old school perspective wasn't so uncommon, it was less than a decade earlier when the rise of a long haired groovy bunch of people called The Hippie caused a rather righteous stir. Not an exception then, my grandfather, but surely the first of his kind, the 1960's erupting in a cultural revolution, parents being confused and revolted by the tastes and actions of their children. Certainly, before the time of the Hippie, there had never been any of these rebels. Without cause, at least.
Despite my sarcasm, there is some level of truth to the words above. Before the 1950's most of the Western world's youth were preoccupied with World War Two and before that it was common place to work and marry young. It would be exaggeration to say teenagers of those bygone days were working full time and dealing with their twelve children immediately after growing out of their diapers, but not much by today's standards. As best we can tell from history and the completely unbiased words of our grandparents, kids pre-World War Two enjoyed the music of their parents and spent what little free time they had (the time between walking twenty miles to school in the snow with no shoes and getting paid tuppence for the seventeen hour shift in the coal mine) working hard and being polite.
Not that dressing in bright colours and watching TV shows with swear words is the only way to upset one's parents, it's simply a less traditional way, or it was fifty years ago. Questioning religious beliefs, bold new career choice, or even marrying for love instead of any tangible benefit have all been effective techniques for inducing loud and irritable variations of "kids these days!" for thousands of years. Kids these days may walk and talk differently, they may laugh at what would once have been considered wildly offensive or thrash their heads to noise that gets labeled music in name only. Kids these days are louder and more stark with their differences, more common due only to the continuing rise in population, and more obvious thanks to the medias ability to coat the world instantly, but I doubt their intent is any different to the youth of generations previous.
The more things change...
Kids these days. You've seen them, the way they dress, the crap they listen to, and don't even talk to me about how disobedient they are. Back in my day music was proper, movies had class and we bloody well knew what funny was. And by golly children respected their elders. These days nothing makes any sense, "Black Eyed Peas", what kind of name for a band is that? And I don't particularly know, or care to know, what a "Jersey Shore" is but it can't be anything good.
Who would of guessed today's generation of youngsters would be the worst thing to come along in the last several eons. Before 1990 every child knew their place, spoke when spoken to and did all their chores. Ate their greens too, or so I've heard. If the modern youth are what the future holds for the world then I fear for civilization and civility. Thank goodness the generations that preceded the little punks managed to keep the world in a stable and pleasant state for as long as they did.
My mother recalled to me once, how my grandfather had made a similar observation regarding the shape of things, in particular the entertainment during what was then the early 1970's. What are now considered indisputable classics were utter nonsense in his eyes. For the likes of Monty Python, now the epitome of comedy, perhaps we can sympathize to a certain degree, of course my grandfather also made a point to criticize the horrendous music of the day, a lively troupe of hip young gentlemen who called themselves The Beatles.
Surely my grandfather was an anomaly of the time, a rare individual indeed. After all, who in their right mind would be bold enough, dare I say tasteless enough, to not enjoy the hilarious comedy stylings of John Cleese and company, or dance excitedly to Can't Buy Me Love? However, perhaps his brand of old school perspective wasn't so uncommon, it was less than a decade earlier when the rise of a long haired groovy bunch of people called The Hippie caused a rather righteous stir. Not an exception then, my grandfather, but surely the first of his kind, the 1960's erupting in a cultural revolution, parents being confused and revolted by the tastes and actions of their children. Certainly, before the time of the Hippie, there had never been any of these rebels. Without cause, at least.
Despite my sarcasm, there is some level of truth to the words above. Before the 1950's most of the Western world's youth were preoccupied with World War Two and before that it was common place to work and marry young. It would be exaggeration to say teenagers of those bygone days were working full time and dealing with their twelve children immediately after growing out of their diapers, but not much by today's standards. As best we can tell from history and the completely unbiased words of our grandparents, kids pre-World War Two enjoyed the music of their parents and spent what little free time they had (the time between walking twenty miles to school in the snow with no shoes and getting paid tuppence for the seventeen hour shift in the coal mine) working hard and being polite.
Not that dressing in bright colours and watching TV shows with swear words is the only way to upset one's parents, it's simply a less traditional way, or it was fifty years ago. Questioning religious beliefs, bold new career choice, or even marrying for love instead of any tangible benefit have all been effective techniques for inducing loud and irritable variations of "kids these days!" for thousands of years. Kids these days may walk and talk differently, they may laugh at what would once have been considered wildly offensive or thrash their heads to noise that gets labeled music in name only. Kids these days are louder and more stark with their differences, more common due only to the continuing rise in population, and more obvious thanks to the medias ability to coat the world instantly, but I doubt their intent is any different to the youth of generations previous.
"The world is passing through troublous times. The young people of today think of nothing but themselves. They have no reverence for parents or old age. They are impatient of all restraint. They talk as if they knew everything, and what passes for wisdom with us is foolishness with them. As for the girls, they are forward, immodest and unladylike in speech, behavior and dress." -Peter the Hermit, 1274 A.D (source)
The more things change...
Friday, April 15, 2011
Friday Friends: Um...
Yeah, so I haven't done anything crafty this week, therefore there aren't any Friday friends to share. So instead I'll talk a little about my best friend, Kiwi.
Kiwi and I met online, over 3 years ago now. I was no stranger to online friends growing up with the dawn of the internet. I knew my way around a chatroom or forum. Two of my good friends who I knew from a comic book forum, met each other there and even got married! Ghassan, one of my closest friends knew me online before moving to my city of Vancouver to attend makeup school. So when Kiwi and I became friends, it didn't seem any different.
Since moving to Canada in November, Kiwi has been nothing short of a gentleman. It's an interesting thing, meeting someone in person whom you've known online for years. You don't have a great understanding of their mannerisms or reactions through a webcam. Waiting at the airport, wondering what it will be like to meet, talk, or touch someone you've only seen on a screen is a wonderous thing.
The first time we met I waited nervously at the arrivals gate. I was deathly early and wandered the airport wondering if what was about to happen was the right thing to do. "What am I doing???" I texted to my cousin, losing my grip a little. Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror applying my lipgloss slowly I came to realization that this was real. I was going to meet him. I had no idea if we would even get along let alone love each other like we had thought. But dammit if I wasn't going to jump in with both feet.
He was the last one out of the gates (they had lost his luggage) and my heart leapt when I saw him on the tv monitors above my head. Kiwi describes our meeting as a blur of yellow and being bashed in the face as my shoulder collided with his chin in the midst of my jumping hug. A few stumbling steps backwards and we managed to remain upright. "Crashing into my life," Kiwi says.
Kiwi and I met online, over 3 years ago now. I was no stranger to online friends growing up with the dawn of the internet. I knew my way around a chatroom or forum. Two of my good friends who I knew from a comic book forum, met each other there and even got married! Ghassan, one of my closest friends knew me online before moving to my city of Vancouver to attend makeup school. So when Kiwi and I became friends, it didn't seem any different.
Since moving to Canada in November, Kiwi has been nothing short of a gentleman. It's an interesting thing, meeting someone in person whom you've known online for years. You don't have a great understanding of their mannerisms or reactions through a webcam. Waiting at the airport, wondering what it will be like to meet, talk, or touch someone you've only seen on a screen is a wonderous thing.
The first time we met I waited nervously at the arrivals gate. I was deathly early and wandered the airport wondering if what was about to happen was the right thing to do. "What am I doing???" I texted to my cousin, losing my grip a little. Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror applying my lipgloss slowly I came to realization that this was real. I was going to meet him. I had no idea if we would even get along let alone love each other like we had thought. But dammit if I wasn't going to jump in with both feet.
He was the last one out of the gates (they had lost his luggage) and my heart leapt when I saw him on the tv monitors above my head. Kiwi describes our meeting as a blur of yellow and being bashed in the face as my shoulder collided with his chin in the midst of my jumping hug. A few stumbling steps backwards and we managed to remain upright. "Crashing into my life," Kiwi says.
-Strawberry
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Put A Bird On It
Haha okay, that joke is a little old now, but I just discovered it and it's related so you'll just have to deal with it.
Today I went out to some fabric stores to search for a good upholstery pattern for my chair. I don't actually remember where I first acquired such a weird chair but when I moved into the basement I remember it being in my room. After a few years it got a little tight in with my new desk and ever growing "stuff" so it moved along to my aunt Kelly. 7 or so years later she's gotten sick of it and offered it back to me.
Being in the crafty, DIY mood I am in lately it was the perfect starter upholstery project. I was so anxious to start, I am already shopping for fabric before I have the chair in my possession (which I hope to rectify soon.) Upon my search at Fabricana I happened upon a pattern with birds, twigs and flowers on it. It looked like a pen and ink drawing, inked in brown on a light gray. Gray isn't in my colour scheme for my living room, but I hope to unite all my obscure colours with some pillows.
Not having made a concrete decision, I waddled home a little disappointed that a few yards of cotton weren't in my arms. Later on in the afternoon I started searching my favourite blog, Design Sponge, for chair fabric inspiration. I noticed a banner ad on the side for a designer website so I thought I'd take a peek and see if they had any good ideas.
Well look what I happened to find:
Today I went out to some fabric stores to search for a good upholstery pattern for my chair. I don't actually remember where I first acquired such a weird chair but when I moved into the basement I remember it being in my room. After a few years it got a little tight in with my new desk and ever growing "stuff" so it moved along to my aunt Kelly. 7 or so years later she's gotten sick of it and offered it back to me.
Being in the crafty, DIY mood I am in lately it was the perfect starter upholstery project. I was so anxious to start, I am already shopping for fabric before I have the chair in my possession (which I hope to rectify soon.) Upon my search at Fabricana I happened upon a pattern with birds, twigs and flowers on it. It looked like a pen and ink drawing, inked in brown on a light gray. Gray isn't in my colour scheme for my living room, but I hope to unite all my obscure colours with some pillows.
Not having made a concrete decision, I waddled home a little disappointed that a few yards of cotton weren't in my arms. Later on in the afternoon I started searching my favourite blog, Design Sponge, for chair fabric inspiration. I noticed a banner ad on the side for a designer website so I thought I'd take a peek and see if they had any good ideas.
Well look what I happened to find:
The EXACT fabric I had in mind for my chair. It's a bit busier than I was looking for, but I think it's just too pretty. And to be able to see it on a similar chair is helping push me to a final decision.
-Strawberry
Monday, April 11, 2011
The More Things Stay The Same (pt.2)
This is part two of a new, three part series called The More Things Stay The Same.
Not knowing any other language, I'm going to stick to discussing English. I will however make the wild and completely baseless assumption that what follows applies to a great many other languages, if not all of them. The English language (See: All languages) is being butchered. People today, MTV and that rap nonsense have ruined the way we converse. And don't even get me started on that internet. Lol.
Maybe 'butchered' and 'ruined' lack the necessary impact to truly convey how bad the situation is. It's probably due to my modern day vocabulary that I fail in this instance, honestly I'm surprised I didn't just tell you how much it totally sucks. No doubt any one of my ancestors would employ a word far more impressive to describe the current decimation the English language has been suffering the past twenty odd years.
The above complaint isn't restricted to a disgruntled few born before the early eighties. Ironically, a great many people my own age, and younger, believe the direction English is heading in is not only detrimental to the advancement of future generations but a sure sign that the bulk of today's youth grow increasingly stupid, much more so than our far more eloquent forebearers. Ignoring the fact that world illiteracy rates consistently decrease every year the core issue is less about who can actually read and write, but what it is they're reading and writing. Wtf.
A kid who grew up in the nineties, speaks like a kid who grew up in the nineties. This is a hard pill to swallow for some of those who grew up in the sixties. Like myself, you've probably sat as children of previous eras, then grownups in your eyes, have adamantly stated with absolute certainty and conviction that their children speak in a confusing and idiotic fashion. It seems likely then, that every generation before theirs also spoke in the exact same manner, of course this is a ludicrous statement. A kid who grew up in the sixties speaks like a kid who grew up in the sixties, not like a kid who grew up in the 40's.
Naturally, a good portion of those nineties kids will grow up and complain about the way these crazy kids of the 00's are ruining English for everyone. Language evolves. I don't speak the way my grandparents did, and I doubt they speak the way theirs did. Attempt to read something from the Middle Ages some time, to modern minds it's barely comprehensible. Readable, certainly, you might know all the words, but no one outside of a Renfaire has spoken that way in hundreds of years. If language didn't change, if each generation didn't find it's own way of communicating, we would all still be grunting at one another, a series of oogs and gahs. Bogo the caveman probably wasn't too impressed when he overheard his kids saying 'Hello' to the neighbors.
Peace out, yo.
Not knowing any other language, I'm going to stick to discussing English. I will however make the wild and completely baseless assumption that what follows applies to a great many other languages, if not all of them. The English language (See: All languages) is being butchered. People today, MTV and that rap nonsense have ruined the way we converse. And don't even get me started on that internet. Lol.
Maybe 'butchered' and 'ruined' lack the necessary impact to truly convey how bad the situation is. It's probably due to my modern day vocabulary that I fail in this instance, honestly I'm surprised I didn't just tell you how much it totally sucks. No doubt any one of my ancestors would employ a word far more impressive to describe the current decimation the English language has been suffering the past twenty odd years.
The above complaint isn't restricted to a disgruntled few born before the early eighties. Ironically, a great many people my own age, and younger, believe the direction English is heading in is not only detrimental to the advancement of future generations but a sure sign that the bulk of today's youth grow increasingly stupid, much more so than our far more eloquent forebearers. Ignoring the fact that world illiteracy rates consistently decrease every year the core issue is less about who can actually read and write, but what it is they're reading and writing. Wtf.
A kid who grew up in the nineties, speaks like a kid who grew up in the nineties. This is a hard pill to swallow for some of those who grew up in the sixties. Like myself, you've probably sat as children of previous eras, then grownups in your eyes, have adamantly stated with absolute certainty and conviction that their children speak in a confusing and idiotic fashion. It seems likely then, that every generation before theirs also spoke in the exact same manner, of course this is a ludicrous statement. A kid who grew up in the sixties speaks like a kid who grew up in the sixties, not like a kid who grew up in the 40's.
Naturally, a good portion of those nineties kids will grow up and complain about the way these crazy kids of the 00's are ruining English for everyone. Language evolves. I don't speak the way my grandparents did, and I doubt they speak the way theirs did. Attempt to read something from the Middle Ages some time, to modern minds it's barely comprehensible. Readable, certainly, you might know all the words, but no one outside of a Renfaire has spoken that way in hundreds of years. If language didn't change, if each generation didn't find it's own way of communicating, we would all still be grunting at one another, a series of oogs and gahs. Bogo the caveman probably wasn't too impressed when he overheard his kids saying 'Hello' to the neighbors.
Peace out, yo.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Friday Friends: DIY Cameos
On one of my regular visits to the local thrift store I happened across two round wooden frames. They were old and uninteresting with their ugly yellowed victorian silhouettes. These weren't exactly attractive silhouettes either. I decided they would make a good art project so I took them home. Cameo silhouettes have always been a favourite of mine, and with the already existing shadows, it seemed fitting that I would just update them a little. Maybe add a personal touch!
I removed the hooks and sprayed a few coats of white over all the wood, even the paper in the center.
I took pictures of Kiwi and I and traced our silhouettes using Photoshop so I could use the digital file to print on any colour paper I wanted.
I printed out the silhouettes on a yellow that Kiwi picked, traced the circle template on the back and cut them out. Trimming here and there, I laid a layer of fabric glue down and placed the paper cameo circles in the center. After a bit of sliding around, the circles fit snug enough to hide my imperfect circle cuts.
A few nails near the door allow our personalized cameos to greet you as you come and go.
I printed out the silhouettes on a yellow that Kiwi picked, traced the circle template on the back and cut them out. Trimming here and there, I laid a layer of fabric glue down and placed the paper cameo circles in the center. After a bit of sliding around, the circles fit snug enough to hide my imperfect circle cuts.
A few nails near the door allow our personalized cameos to greet you as you come and go.
The silhouettes I created in Photoshop also served as the logo for our blog, with a few adjustments.
-Strawberry
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The More Things Stay The Same (pt.1)
This is part one of a new, three part series called The More Things Stay The Same.
I'll tell you right now, I have no idea what the deal is with the Mayan calender, and I didn't see the movie 2012 starring John Cusak, although based purely off watching the trailer, I doubt the film explained anything about it. Or mentioned the calender at all. I *could* look it up, but the Aztec calender is just one example of a long, long line of things that continue to drive people up the wall with predictions of the ever pending apocalypse.
In the late nineties it was Y2K, in the fifties it was nuclear annihilation, in 1910, or there abouts, it was Haley's Comet, and before that it was mostly some fashion of religious disaster. These days it's either global warming, some new animalistic strain of flu or that uppity calender. We're an amazingly paranoid species. Excluding a large comet, or perhaps God throwing a tantrum, none of the above mentioned dooms day scenarios would be enough to completely end the world. A raging super virus or everyone simultaneously loosing access to Justin Bieber's Twitter feed would certainly cause no small amount of chaos, but it would scarcely manage to bring the ultimate finality to life on Earth.
Consider a contagious plague ripping its merry way through humanity. Regardless of where it began, be it a small island or a continent, it would be very nearly impossible for the virus to attack every single human being. Even if we were slow to act, failing to shut down international travel quickly, or not properly quarantining the first effected area(s), there are still remote communities the world over that have very little contact with the outside world, or at the very least take more than a single plane trip to get to. That's not just the few remaining tribes in places like the Amazon and Papa New Guinea that throw spears at helicopters we're talking about here, there are thousands of small townships and settlements the world over, Africa, Eastern Europe, The Middle East, and even remote towns in rural areas that could either easily protect themselves or simply wouldn't get visitors. Then there's oil rigs, ships, islands. In the Philippines alone there are over 7000 separate islands. Whether it be a naturally developed flu type virus or some kind of super terrorist plague you might not do so great, but you can at least take some consolation that not everyone is doomed.
Perhaps our fear of Armageddon is down to a simple case of everyday exaggeration. I'm not hungry I'm starving, it's world war three in there, Avatar is the best movie ever, etc. Even if every nuclear weapon on the planet went off at the same time there'd still be plenty of places humans could live comfortably. Since the late 1940's the United States have tested hundreds of warheads in their own backyard, it certainly left parts of the western deserts a little worse for wear but there are millions of people living just around the corner.
A skeptical person may suggest that the idea of a world ending event was created by authorities, be they government, religious or both, to keep the plebs in line. Ceasing spraying too much Raid on that pesky fly, lest it bring forth the four horsemen, is certainly a more efficient way of getting your warning across than having to explain the ozone layer in great, confusing detail.
As to why we continue to seemingly leap into hysterics and claim the end of the world is upon us at every opportunity, that probably has less to do with any grand manipulative conspiracy and more to do with immediate danger. Most of the terrible ever looming predictions of apocalypse do have plenty of potential to wipe out a good chunk of the population, but not all of it. Maybe it's not the end of the world we fear so much, as the end of our little slice of it.
The end is nigh, and it has been for a really, really long time.
I'll tell you right now, I have no idea what the deal is with the Mayan calender, and I didn't see the movie 2012 starring John Cusak, although based purely off watching the trailer, I doubt the film explained anything about it. Or mentioned the calender at all. I *could* look it up, but the Aztec calender is just one example of a long, long line of things that continue to drive people up the wall with predictions of the ever pending apocalypse.
In the late nineties it was Y2K, in the fifties it was nuclear annihilation, in 1910, or there abouts, it was Haley's Comet, and before that it was mostly some fashion of religious disaster. These days it's either global warming, some new animalistic strain of flu or that uppity calender. We're an amazingly paranoid species. Excluding a large comet, or perhaps God throwing a tantrum, none of the above mentioned dooms day scenarios would be enough to completely end the world. A raging super virus or everyone simultaneously loosing access to Justin Bieber's Twitter feed would certainly cause no small amount of chaos, but it would scarcely manage to bring the ultimate finality to life on Earth.
Consider a contagious plague ripping its merry way through humanity. Regardless of where it began, be it a small island or a continent, it would be very nearly impossible for the virus to attack every single human being. Even if we were slow to act, failing to shut down international travel quickly, or not properly quarantining the first effected area(s), there are still remote communities the world over that have very little contact with the outside world, or at the very least take more than a single plane trip to get to. That's not just the few remaining tribes in places like the Amazon and Papa New Guinea that throw spears at helicopters we're talking about here, there are thousands of small townships and settlements the world over, Africa, Eastern Europe, The Middle East, and even remote towns in rural areas that could either easily protect themselves or simply wouldn't get visitors. Then there's oil rigs, ships, islands. In the Philippines alone there are over 7000 separate islands. Whether it be a naturally developed flu type virus or some kind of super terrorist plague you might not do so great, but you can at least take some consolation that not everyone is doomed.
Perhaps our fear of Armageddon is down to a simple case of everyday exaggeration. I'm not hungry I'm starving, it's world war three in there, Avatar is the best movie ever, etc. Even if every nuclear weapon on the planet went off at the same time there'd still be plenty of places humans could live comfortably. Since the late 1940's the United States have tested hundreds of warheads in their own backyard, it certainly left parts of the western deserts a little worse for wear but there are millions of people living just around the corner.
A skeptical person may suggest that the idea of a world ending event was created by authorities, be they government, religious or both, to keep the plebs in line. Ceasing spraying too much Raid on that pesky fly, lest it bring forth the four horsemen, is certainly a more efficient way of getting your warning across than having to explain the ozone layer in great, confusing detail.
As to why we continue to seemingly leap into hysterics and claim the end of the world is upon us at every opportunity, that probably has less to do with any grand manipulative conspiracy and more to do with immediate danger. Most of the terrible ever looming predictions of apocalypse do have plenty of potential to wipe out a good chunk of the population, but not all of it. Maybe it's not the end of the world we fear so much, as the end of our little slice of it.
The end is nigh, and it has been for a really, really long time.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Disney Expo, Here We Come
Today I finally booked the hotel and flights for our trip to Disney Expo 2011.
I had bought the tickets for the Expo the DAY they came out, earning us a hefty discount and a settled mind knowing we would indeed be going. Three days of unexpected shows, celebrities, artists, panels, and displays for Disney geeks such as myself. I have even convinced Kiwi to dress up in costume with me for one of the days. I wont reveal too much of that yet until I have gotten a little farther into planning, but I will admit it's going to be extremely cute.
I am not sure what the event will have in store for us, but I am happy knowing Kiwi will be at my side. Travel is one of Kiwi's greatest talents. His cool head, calm demeanor and street smart reactions will keep my anxiety at bay and hopefully settle my stomach enough to get us through the custom checks unscathed.
Kiwi has been all over the world. Tales from which often come up in conversation and boggle my brain with how many places he has actually been. Humble, so much so that he will only mention them if the current topic is related, and in turn will set me into a small panic of trying to remember if he had mentioned it before.
While Kiwi was lucky enough to see many countries, I was (not equally) lucky to visit my favourite place on earth numerous times. I have seen attractions come and go, princesses move off the grounds and into a shaded hut, Ariel's grotto dismantled, and even a new park built across the plaza (that was once a parking lot where sections were named after Lion King characters.) I am lucky to live such a short distance away from such a fantastic place, but still live in Canada. Our flight is only 2.5 hours and by the time we check into our hotel, we can literally cross the street and enter the park for our first day.
Once we're inside, I will be the cool, calm, collected leader that can maneuver crowds, beat the lines, and offer experienced guidance. I'll be able to show Kiwi part of my world
Oo-De-Lally.
I had bought the tickets for the Expo the DAY they came out, earning us a hefty discount and a settled mind knowing we would indeed be going. Three days of unexpected shows, celebrities, artists, panels, and displays for Disney geeks such as myself. I have even convinced Kiwi to dress up in costume with me for one of the days. I wont reveal too much of that yet until I have gotten a little farther into planning, but I will admit it's going to be extremely cute.
I am not sure what the event will have in store for us, but I am happy knowing Kiwi will be at my side. Travel is one of Kiwi's greatest talents. His cool head, calm demeanor and street smart reactions will keep my anxiety at bay and hopefully settle my stomach enough to get us through the custom checks unscathed.
Kiwi has been all over the world. Tales from which often come up in conversation and boggle my brain with how many places he has actually been. Humble, so much so that he will only mention them if the current topic is related, and in turn will set me into a small panic of trying to remember if he had mentioned it before.
While Kiwi was lucky enough to see many countries, I was (not equally) lucky to visit my favourite place on earth numerous times. I have seen attractions come and go, princesses move off the grounds and into a shaded hut, Ariel's grotto dismantled, and even a new park built across the plaza (that was once a parking lot where sections were named after Lion King characters.) I am lucky to live such a short distance away from such a fantastic place, but still live in Canada. Our flight is only 2.5 hours and by the time we check into our hotel, we can literally cross the street and enter the park for our first day.
Once we're inside, I will be the cool, calm, collected leader that can maneuver crowds, beat the lines, and offer experienced guidance. I'll be able to show Kiwi part of my world
Oo-De-Lally.
-Strawberry
Friday, April 1, 2011
Friday Friends: Terrariums!
What happens when Kiwi gives me his card for shopping? I come home from the dollar store with some ingredients for creating! With a few dollar containers, rocks, dirt from outside, and succulents from my daddy I made a mess of our table and created a few little terrariums!
I finally found a good use for the teeny mushrooms I made around Christmas. They were supposed to fit into some clear Christmas ornaments but the hot glue ended up ruining that craft. But this is a suitable home for them now.
Now my window fawn has some friends!
I finally found a good use for the teeny mushrooms I made around Christmas. They were supposed to fit into some clear Christmas ornaments but the hot glue ended up ruining that craft. But this is a suitable home for them now.
Now my window fawn has some friends!
-Strawberry
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