Memory Lane

This evening I took an unexpected and very vivid trip down memory lane.

I was spending the evening tidying, doing a much-needed load of laundry, and generally minding my own business; itunes was playing in the background, and suddenly a few strains of the music caught my ear, and just like that, I was on my way somewhere else.

It’s funny how that works – to hear the opening chords to a certain song, or smell a certain smell, and you are instantly transported to some memory, familiar or perhaps forgotten, just like you were there all over again.  And that is how I came to find myself whisked away from a quiet, temperate night in Nanaimo and standing suddenly in front of a familiar brick building in downtown Winnipeg on a crisp Sunday night….

A chill greets us as we shrug out of the car that seems to have just warmed up when we arrived.  Do we have enough to pay for parking? (in the good old days, this parkade was a dilapidated, roofless hovel which, while significantly higher in the we-could-get-mugged factor, was a place we could park for free)  Coins are dug out of purses and pockets by frosty fingers, and parking payment is found.

It is not snowing; the night is clear and sharp, and our breath swirls around us and crystalizes to hang in the air as we hurry past the pre-show smokers in front of the pub – and this is not just any pub, this is The King’s Head, this is our pub, and we all have the membership card to prove it.   We stamp snow and dirt from boots as we dig them out to gain our way in, and head for the stairs at the back of the room.  The pub has two levels, but we never trifle with the first, it is on the second floor where our reason for venturing out Sunday night after cold Sunday night is due to begin shortly.

The upstairs is already quite busy.  We are early, but not early enough it seems, and most of the tables are already occupied.  Our eyes scan the tables, looking for an opening.  As usual, James is cajoled into procuring chairs for us at a stranger’s table.  We shed our coats and scarves, and everyone’s cheeks begin to lose their rosiness as we feel the warmth creep back into our bodies.  I glance around the room and its warm, familiar decor: flags and banners advertising various English beers and soccer teams adorn the old brick walls.  One wall is painted like a giant beer stein with its foam overflowing, and outside the second story windows, I can see the stark outline of jagged bare branches against snow, lit by the faint glow of The King’s Head neon sign just below.  I peer at the honey-colored wooden bar and gauge how busy it is. Then suddenly, my attention is brought back to the room with the strum of a guitar – the Band is ready to play.

And play they do – every Sunday night we are entranced through two sets (they do play three, but alas, we have classes in the morning) of amazing musicianship.  This is why we get in our frozen cars and drive the distance to the pub – while the beer is good, and the company and atmosphere are better, it is truly the Band that draws us.

The end of the first set comes much sooner than expected.  The braver of our group head (along with a fair number of fellow patrons) out the door and weather the cold for a mid-music cigar.  On a fairer evening I might join, but on this frigid night I am more content to covet the warmth that the indoors has to offer.

The cigar-goers file back up the stairs, and set two begins.  Midway through the first song, the Guitarist rips into an improvised solo.  The drinks have been flowing which heightens everyone’s visible appreciation – all eyes are locked on his fingers flying over frets, bewitched; here and there a head nods vigorously in time to the music, and in a few individual’s cases, it is their whole bodies that seem to be under the song’s spell (sooner or later we know these will be up and dancing).  Suddenly the other musicians are back in, and the solo is over.  Raucous applause!  Several enthusiastic “yeah!s” and “woo!s” are clamored around the room, and when the song is finished, the cheering is immense.  More music please!  And perhaps another round of drinks!

All too soon, the second set is through.  ”We will be back for one more set!” promises the Band, but we wont be around to see it.  We button our coats and secure our scarves around our necks, and slowly return to reality.  We hesitate at the door as Mellaina adjusts her sleeves around her gloves, and feel the cold swirl in as somebody pulls open the door.  My teeth chatter heartily as we pile into the car.  Somebody cranks the fan on high and freezing air bursts out of the vents – it wont heat for a while yet, but we do need to keep the windows de-frosted.  ’Goodnight, King’s Head,’ I think to myself, ‘We will be back.  We always are.  Until next time…’

The songs ends, and iTunes shuffler selects another song for me to listen to.  Without warning, the neon King’s Head Pub sign fades, I can see my breath again, and I am back in the  present.  My husband is here on the couch reading a book, and my laundry is still waiting for me.  I am far from Winnipeg now, far from my college days and certainly far from that cold Sunday night so long ago.  But I smile. I turn to the laundry basket and I think to myself,

‘Kings Head, and old friends and ideals and loves, it was you that came back to me, it always is, finding me when I least expect.  Don’t stay away too long.   Until next time…’

Humble Pie

Humble Pie is not my favorite dish.  It is odorous and unappealing, and when it is being prepared, it more often than not smells up one’s whole house.  But it seems to be a staple for me lately, I’ve been chewing through that sinewy filling, forming it into a thick lump that sticks in my throat, leaving its bitter taste on my tongue.  No, the stuff is not appetizing, but a necessary dish now and then, perhaps to keep one’s pride and sense of reality in check.

So what has happened in the life of Jenae to warrant this self-imposed diet?  Well, I’ll admit it, I screwed up.  I did, I screwed something up at work – and a fairly obvious and foolish screw up it was, too.  Boy, did I feel stupid that day.  So, since Humble Pie is a dish best served up while it’s hot, I did what I thought  would make it right as quick as possible.  A sincere apology and an offer to amend the wrong as best I could: the first pungent, sticky bite.

Nothing more was said on the subject for another week or two, and it seemed that that may be that for my helping of Pie.  Alas, it seems as though my palate had just been cleansed when -bam! I found that another huge helping of Humility had been set in right in front of me.  It would seem that while I had, in my opinion, learned from my error and moved on, other parties were not so inclined to forgive and forget, so to speak.  My mistake was remembered quite vividly and as such was affecting my work environment, and of more practical concern, the amount of work I was getting.

Now, as I see it, I had apologized, acknowledged my wrong and would not repeat such an error again.  As other parties see it, I was to learn, such a mistake indicated that this was the type of results that could be expected from my efforts, and as such a repeat was likely.  Oh man.  I think there are still pieces stuck in my teeth from that particular bite of Pie.

So I now find myself asking, who is in the right?  Who is in the wrong?  Is anybody in the wrong?  Of course, I feel that a second chance is in order here.  Yes, I was the one who messed up, but anybody who has eaten that amount of Humble Pie certainly deserves a second chance.  Yet if the table was turned would I be so quick to clear the plates and declare to save your forks,  it’s time for dessert?

Ethics aside, I am also wondering what action I should take from here.  Is it worth the fight to stick it out and hope that eventually I will win things over?  Or is it time to pick up the tea towel and start drying the dishes?  Thanks for the meal, but it’s time for me to go now?

Ah, Humble Pie is a prickly, uncomfortable dish.  One never knows at first, I think, if one is satisfied after eating it or not.  I think it’s different depending where and how it is prepared and served.  This pie that I’m working on now though, I think I will be chewing on it for awhile.

the brink

i like that word, “brink.”  to me, it instills a sense of anticipation, a sense of realizing that your world is somehow about to become larger.  a change is going to come.  sometimes being on “the brink” is exciting and welcome – you may be on the brink of adventure, for example.  conversely, you may also be on the brink of disaster or starvation.  these are not good brinks to be on.

i am on the brink of….well, of something.  or maybe somethings.

i am on the brink of marriage.  i think it’s close enough – two months now! – to be considered on the brink.  this is a good brink to be on.  i am so excited to be in my own place with my new husband and to forge a life together.  nothing, at the moment, thrills me more!

i am also on the brink of…actually i dont quite know what exactly.  big changes, for sure.  plans for post-wedding that seemed secure and sure have suddenly shifted, leaving a huge decision to be made, namely, where to settle down (for a year or more) after the honeymoon.  the options, as i see it, are as follows:

winnipeg – the original plan, if not for un-transfered credits!  good friends and family await, as well as new friends i am sure.  school at hand if a decision to continue education is made.  a previous love and knowledge of the city exist, as well as an eagerness to re-haunt old – well, haunts.  negatives: c-c-c-old six-month long winter,  and bugs.

medicine hat- friends and family who would overjoyedly shower us with affection and thanksgiving if we decided to remain here.  negatives – dead end jobs, lack of job prospects, a strong urge on both our parts to experience something new.

qualicum beach, b.c. – yes, this is a seemingly spin-the-globe option.  the original idea was for nathan to attend luthier school here.  however, due to the fact that it costs an arm and a leg, this seems unlikely at the moment.  however, cost of living appears relatively low, scenery (think ocean, mountain, and rainforest) is breathtaking, and the idea of moving somewhere beautiful for the adventure and experience of it is deliciously appealing.  negatives – we dont know anybody there.  positives: we dont know anybody there.

anywhere else – quite honestly, as long as it appears we have a decent chance of eking out a living, making friends, and enjoying life in general, we are open.

so this is my brink.  it is, i think, and exciting brink to be on.  not un-nerve wracking, but exciting.  sort of, suppose, not unlike standing on the brink of the grand canyon – a slip could prove fatal, but the feeling as if the whole world is open before you is exhilarating unlike any other.

walking and running

ahhhhh….

its late (well, late-ish i suppose), and i’m getting old so i should really be going to bed, buuut i actually feel like writing something tonight, so i think i will.

life has been busy.  good, but really, too busy sometimes.  i love the idea of sauntering while the world is running, but this slowly turns into sprinting while the world is vespa-ing, which  just turns into a big freeway lane that i inevitably become part of anyway.  its hard to slow down and just really, truly be when everything else around you is moving and changing so fast.  i guess i worry too much about what i’m missing when i’m not moving the same speed as everything else, but then what other things am i missing or not getting as much of when i rush along on my freeway lane life?

sometimes i become acutely aware of how little time i spend actively living in the present.  i dont think its just me who has this problem either.  i think its inherent with this rush rush lifestyle we are all so comfortable with.

i life a lot in the future.  when i’m at work, i cant wait to be off work.  when i’m finished work and lounging wherever, i cant wait for it to be the weekend.  when its its the weekend, i count down the days until my next mini-vacation.  and so it goes.  even right now, as i write i am thinking about getting ready for and finally being in my warm, comfy bed…..and this is a perfectly good moment which i should be savoring.  its quiet.  i’m curled cozily in a chair doing something i love.  i’m warm.  i can name several people who love me unconditionally.  and so on.

i probably spend an equal amount of time living in the past.  i kind of think it comes from breezing through life, always on our way to somewhere else, so when we’ve left a place, physically or emotionally, we wish we’d spent more time there.  its not even an issue of taking the things we have and experience for granted (though that can certainly be a part of the problem as well), but moreso, that as we allow ourselves to be constantly in motion, we aren’t able to savour or squeeze as much out of the here and now as we could.  or should perhaps.  imagine you are eating something delicious and decadent – maybe the most flavourful, juicy peach you could ever imagine.  each bite a perfect burst of sweetness and tang – but you are so eager to move on to the next fruit that you gobble down this peach in seconds. what was meant to be enjoyed slowly, bite by bite, was barely even tasted.

okay, forgive the fruit metaphor.  its late and i’m a little hungry.

i want to learn to live mostly in the present.  i want to glean as much as humanly possible out of every experience, conversation, look, touch, place, and feeling as it happens.  and maybe living in the past can slowly become simply reflecting on it.  and perhaps i will find that i have more enticing me to stay awhile than to run off to the next place and moment.

sauntering is good.  even sprinting and that freeway lane are okay sometimes too.  as long as i can learn to integrate stopping occasionally as well.

so…..as soon as i figure out how to do that, i’ll let you know.

if one bajillion people join this group, we will get the old facebook back!

every time i log in to check my facebook, i see that at least one of my contacts has joined a group with a title similar to this one.  i think the funniest one i’ve seen so far was the one i saw when i logged in today: “facebook said that if i get 5,000,000 people in this group they’de change it bak”.  wow, really?  surprisingly enough, 325,338 facebookers have already jumped on board that one.  i dont think i’ve seen people rally around any cause quite how outraged facebookers have banded together and united with the sole task of cajoling poor mark slee (facebook’s product manager) into doing away with his new layout.

its quite heartwarming, really.  world hunger pales in comparison.

actually, i suppose that initially i was slightly annoyed when my facebook account changed over and i had to search for the links i wanted to click on.  i would have been pleased if one day, i’d logged on and everything was “back to normal.”  but today, as i went to navigate back to my homepage, and slid my mouse just as naturally to the upper left corner instead of the upper right corner as it was set up with the old facebook, i was overcome with a momentous realization (i pretty much almost fell out of my chair.  for serious): everyone will get used to the new facebook, just like we all had to get used to the old facebook.  and in three months, nobody will care.  and if you still do, you will probably be considered a noob, as my little brother would put it.  anyway, i just find it slightly amusing how upset everyone is over something so insignificant.

I’m up ridiculously late.  

(since when did 12:18 am become ridiculously late??  yeeeshhh…i am getting old)

i’ve been picture-browsing (hurray for facebook; though most of my pictures were long lost when my hard drive crashed a few months back, a select few survived that i deemed worthy enough to share with the world). it’s crazy how as i flipped through the past four or so years of my life, an hour had come and gone before i knew it.  i smiled as i saw faces, most of those who i held dear during my years at prov.  i shook my head and laughed as i saw and recalled the evening mellaina and i decided to down a bottle of wine and bake a strudel. i remembered the cold that i could never keep from biting the tip of my nose even on the shortest venture outdoors in mid-january, but also the warmth of friends and a good mug of tea.  

as i write, it all seems like a lifetime away from where i am now.

i can be incredibly nostalgic. the past is, in my view, very often a lush green pasture that i sincerely long to return to.  but today is different.  as i saw the faces and places from years past flash by me, i remembered the good times, but i was also struck with the realization that, for all that the people and places of the past have meant to me, there is no other place i’d rather be, past or future, than exactly where i am right now.   i look fondly back on the past, and anticipate with excitement the things that will come my way in the future, but for now, i can truly say that i am content.

more plans….or lack thereof

its kind of funny; i neglect this blog (and any other form of creative writing) for months, and all at once it seems i have people everywhere reminding me, telling me that hey, i need to write more.  you love to write, they say, you’re so good at it.  you cant just not write.  here’s this journalism job i saw in the paper, you should apply. and so on.

of course i like to write, and of course i would still love to be paid to do so.  eventually.  truth is, at the moment, i am quite happy soaking up as many different life experiences as i possibly can; living planless, mostly.  at the moment, this planless plan entails me living and working in medicine hat, saving money for, of course, travel.  it is obvious how going and finding myself a career would be quite detrimental to this “plan”.  and this is precisely why i am, currently, doing absolutely nothing related whatsoever to my hard-earned (and expensive) degree.  

makes perfect sense to me.

or maybe thats not the whole truth.  it is the version i’ve been selling to myself and everyone who cares to inquire, and while it IS the truth, i am slowly beginning to wonder if it really is the whole truth.  while it is true that future “plans” do include travel, however up-in-the-air it may be at the moment (though is that not more or less the point of a planless plan?), and that it does therefore make sense to stay around here and save money, even though this is a terrible city in which to find a job that truly interests me…could there be a little more to it?  maybe….maybe if one were to boil the pot nearly bone-dry, my lack of plan would really simmer down to a simple lack of motivation.  it’s shameful, i know.  and as much as i would like to pawn my severe neglect of my creative faculties off on my great planless plan, really…that has very little to do with not blogging or even taking a half-interesting photograph in months.  

i dont know where this lack of motivation has come from.  i really dont.  but i suppose, at the very least, i do have a desire to get it back, and hopefully that counts for something.  

i sincerely hope that the next post will not be nearly so long in coming.  because, really…i do love to write.

plans.

well.  hello there. 

after a…what is it now…two month involuntary hiatus, i shall now pour myself a cup of tea, breathe deeply, and update.

it has been an eventful couple of months (to say the least).  and i have missed writing.  not writing, so much, for the sake of putting the details of my life into some sort of solid state (as solid as anything digital can be, that is), or even for the sake of presenting my thoughts and opinions in a way that someone else will hopefully find interesting or insightful, but mostly for the sheer sense of satisfaction that comes from putting words, phrases, and paragraphs together in a way that, well, just sounds really good.  

(really…lately it seems i have been reading things that are just plain awful.)

if writing truly is a gift of mine, i have shamefully been letting it gather dust for too long.

anyhow, i did say that this was going to be an update.

it would seem that big changes are on the horizon for me.  i have been working jobs for awhile now that have become major sources of stress for me.  and it has become more than apparent to me that the time has indeed come to move on to the bigger and the better.  so, i have chosen to spend yet another summer at the ymca.  yes, yes, yes.  i know.  it does seem like an obvious reversion, but i am counting on this small step backward to act as a stepping stone to a huge step forward.  let me explain.  really, i can rationalize this.  i’ve been offered a position as the arts director for the day camp, which just seemed like way too much fun to pass up, especially when i found out that my brother has a job there as well, and that one of my good friends will be my co-arts director.  the job ends at the end of august, and then…

…well, this is where things begin to get a little fuzzy.  however, it is my plan that at this point, i begin to look for a job that i can really go places with.  journalism?  maybe.  creative writing? i sure hope so.  the definite upside of this all is that instead of staying in a dead-end job, sitting there and hoping something comes along eventually, when the day camp job ends, i will have no choice but to find something else.  

and, i am planning on finding that something else in winnipeg.

so, if all goes well, that is where i will be come september.  i’ll keep you posted.

*yaaaawn…strrrretch*…another incredibly lazy day spent around here, this one unfortunately not exactly by choice.  work has been really slow, & as such, my hours were cut in half last week, effective this week.  so i’ve had been “enjoying” a long, long weekend.  all week.

while i cant say i havent enjoyed the time off, it does, quite royally, screw me over.

yesterday was spent in  a semi-fruitful job search.  today was spent in lovely aimless wanderingment.  i ended up in a used bookstore, a tea shop (where they are ordering me in my favorite tea, which i cannot find anywhere around here!), and in a kitschy, cluttered antique store, where i had the most awkward antique shopping experience ever.  as i stepped in the  door (a bell-ring and hinges in bad need of a little wd-40 lovin’ heartily announced my arrival, so my presence must have been known), i was immediately aware that i’d walked in on the presumable owner and his presumable wife/employee in the middle of a heated argument.  Actually it was too one-sided to be accurately called an argument; the wife/employee had apparently broken something in the back while….cleaning?  inventory?  it doesnt matter, in any case, he was “explaining” to her in no uncertain terms how terrible this was and how she should just leave things alone, etc, etc.  And it didnt stop when i walked in.  the presence of me, a customer, was acknowledged in no way at all. i felt like a neighbour who’d come over to borrow a cup of sugar at the wrong time.  should….should i come back later?  i seriously wondered.  but, i decided, it made more sense for me to be shopping there than for them to be arguing there at that time, so i let the door close (a little harder than necessary, just to be sure they heard) behind me.

at first i found it quite humorous…is this guy seriously acting like this in front of a potential customer??  but as he kept yelling at her, and became more and more insulting, it just sort of made me sad.  i browsed, he shouted, and she just sort of took it all in.  i imagine she was embarrassed for him, about the whole situation.  he went in the back, and she tiredly sold me a bracelet for a flippant 50 cents.  and then i left.  should i have stepped in?  i later wondered, should i have said something?  “hey you…there….cut it out? please?” of course there is no imaginable way that could have gone well.  i am still sort of sorting out what to make of it all.

in less depressing news, in light of recent events, more specifically, since my hours at work were just cut in half, along with a few other factors, i have been putting a lot of thought into joining three friends this summer in working and living in australia for three months this summer.  i did the math, and all things considered, i think i can do it without putting myself in the red more than 4 or 5 hundred dollars.  it just sort of seems like the best time to do it, i know people going, and for those three months anyway, there seems to be much more pushing me there than keeping me here.  i guess i will know either way…i would like to say within the week.

good morning!

i have to admit i quite enjoy these rare mornings when i wake up and have more than enough time for coffee and reading and just for myself before running out the door for work.  & i also have to admit that these mornings are regrettably rare, so i have to savour them when they do come along.

here is why i am up so early.  i’ll bet you are all just dying to know.  anyway, this morning i was supposed to go on an early morning shoot to medelta, which, for those of you who dont know, used to be a pottery factory here in medicine hat, & is now a sort of museum.  it’s full of exciting medicine hat history & more importantly, awesome photo ops.  HOWEVER, my shooting buddy failed dreadfully to awaken at the sound of his alarm clock this morning.  tsk tsk.  not to be (overly) dismayed, i decided to instead take my camera on a short jaunt around my neighbourhood, as medelta is postponed until monday.

perhaps one of my favorite things about riverside is that between its overgrown wrought-iron gates, weathered & rusty exteriors, the neglected path that meanders along the river, and of course, the affinity of its tenants for eclectic-bordering-on-kitschy decor, this place is absolutely full of beauty.  it may be badly faded, & it may not be beauty in the usual sense, but it is there.  though medicine hat is growing in both population & affluence, riverside still harbours this sense of community & slower pace of life that is very small-town oriented.  i love that most people here still smile and nod and say good morning when they pass each other on the sidewalk.  & i love that the employees of the cafe across the street plunk down on the curb in front of the building & enjoy a cigarette on their breaks.  this actually didnt strike me as very odd until i tried to imagine the same thing happening along dunmore road or 13th ave.

anyhow, i think i live in one of the most beautiful neighbourhoods here, & i will try to show you what i mean as soon as my film is developed.

*siiiigh.*  i must soon head off to work.  i am not sure if i am ready for my day to really begin yet.