tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67913812024-03-14T00:01:07.182-07:00Because or Why NotPonderings of a small town girl with a big mindset.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.comBlogger372125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-84075855497349909752014-05-20T21:04:00.000-07:002014-05-20T21:04:26.401-07:00Perhaps Happiness and HeartbreakPerhaps happiness and heartbreak happen. Always. Together, or in ravaging separations.<br />
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This little suite I call home is full of loneliness and love. I will miss nights, second-hand sheets and pasta covered in cheese. Putting on a blazer and pretending to be the sort of person who carries business cards. Falling asleep on the couch to the sound of you struggling with a paper.<br />
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That's still away, I know. So this summer I'll lie in your arms in a yellow school bus, it's smell reminiscent of street Spanish and truck stops. And I'll sleep here by myself, on my side. cradling a new life growing inside.<br />
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It will be happiness and heartbreak. And maybe both together.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-puufaLwaItM/U3wkwYTyJTI/AAAAAAAAARQ/ykszt0okd5M/s1600/HaPPy_by_Creotiv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-puufaLwaItM/U3wkwYTyJTI/AAAAAAAAARQ/ykszt0okd5M/s1600/HaPPy_by_Creotiv.jpg" height="268" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">((<a href="http://creotiv.deviantart.com/">Creotiv</a>))</td></tr>
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<br />Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-47753715464661842622013-06-03T19:35:00.001-07:002013-06-03T19:35:43.148-07:00PeopleBrilliant. I got married and quit blogging. I'm a blogging statistic.<br />
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I started out as a single blogger who read other single bloggers.<br />
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In all fairness, I was slowing down pretty good long before the conflict-free, recycled diamond ring.<br />
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I'm pretty sure I'll never write a Christian-wife blog or a mommy blog. But I guess you never know. A year ago I decided to pursue travel writing. And then I got married instead. I went to Australia, then took a couple courses and started writing full-time. Just not here. I love my job, but I think it hurt my love for rambling posts and Because or Why Not. Who knows what next year will bring.<br />
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Now at least three of my RL single friends have started marvellous travel blogs as they start changing the world in Uganda and the Philippines, or just explore the globe on their own terms.<br />
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I'm posting this because I still read your blogs. I do. Allison, Tabs, Risha, Alex... Sometime only every few months. But 20sb still taught me to care about people I've never met.<br />
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Google Reader is leaving us in July. And then I'm turning 27.<br />
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I miss this, but you can't have it all.<br />
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I will find a way to continue <strike>stalking</strike> reading your blogs.<br />
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And, Risha. How'd you do on 101? I thought it ended in April, only to find my cut-off was January. I will be making a new list this summer.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-71082840271159675162012-09-16T15:28:00.001-07:002012-09-16T15:28:50.120-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It was beautiful, magical, and everything I could ever have hoped. We got married in the back of a property that means the world to me. We vowed to cherish one another, we dined, danced, and felt more loved then I could ever know.We served a delicious dinner, largely raised in my parents garden. It was important to have a marriage that represented us, and our values. Mission accomplished.</div>
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And now we're off to Australia for a bit. Wish us all the best! And thanks for still stopping by.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VviRd3y65ss/UFZRL88qBZI/AAAAAAAAAPY/vh_W__f7FsI/s1600/Ceremony1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VviRd3y65ss/UFZRL88qBZI/AAAAAAAAAPY/vh_W__f7FsI/s640/Ceremony1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3wG-XeEkE60/UFZRN8iwT-I/AAAAAAAAAPg/ewUSQbYzIWk/s1600/Ceremony2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3wG-XeEkE60/UFZRN8iwT-I/AAAAAAAAAPg/ewUSQbYzIWk/s640/Ceremony2.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kh15lEAGEMA/UFZRQNhzQ8I/AAAAAAAAAPo/aylrfVBJi9c/s1600/Ceremony3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kh15lEAGEMA/UFZRQNhzQ8I/AAAAAAAAAPo/aylrfVBJi9c/s640/Ceremony3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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All photos by G.P. Photography</div>
Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-28723233037352353282012-06-05T08:58:00.000-07:002012-06-05T08:58:06.537-07:00See, I never thought of myself as this person. In embracing everything else, it never quite sank in that this might actually happen to me. I was independent, I was confident, I was once-scorned and fine on my own.<br />
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I've referred to him as the blue-eyed boy in these parts before. It's accurate in the technical sense but makes us sound like a cheesy poem or a lip-gloss laden story.<br />
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The true story is that we're almost stupidly practical. We grocery shop, we edit each others papers (okay... I edit his), we cook dinner, we wash each others socks. We fight enough, and then we talk it out.<br />
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And now we're getting married.<br />
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He proposed to me under a bridge at his childhood home in Calgary. The place he told himself, when he was ten years old, that he would like to ask a girl to marry him one day.<br />
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That's it. I'm still the exact same person, strangely enough. I just have someone I'll share life with... for as long as we both shall live. It still kinda blows my mind.<br />
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His name is Brendan. And I love him.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A6OyQPP8fvk/T84rqQjG_tI/AAAAAAAAAPE/kF8xBxPwGMk/s1600/_IGP9003_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A6OyQPP8fvk/T84rqQjG_tI/AAAAAAAAAPE/kF8xBxPwGMk/s400/_IGP9003_edited-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-87391884870971243162012-05-02T18:15:00.000-07:002012-05-02T18:15:21.173-07:00I Can BreatheSummer is dawning early. I love every little bit of it.<br />
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I am done school. It took a week to shake the continual nagging guilt of <i>I should be studying</i>.<br />
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This Friday I am done work. At least the in-office side of it. Freelancing imminent.<br />
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Freelancing, and days at the river. Photography, writing, road trips...<br />
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Yup. Let the sun shine down.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhqLHhJanFI/T6Hbf3oYAoI/AAAAAAAAAOM/NpI1Y3djvWM/s1600/freedom_by_xxxSTIHIALxxx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="177" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhqLHhJanFI/T6Hbf3oYAoI/AAAAAAAAAOM/NpI1Y3djvWM/s400/freedom_by_xxxSTIHIALxxx.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://xxxstihialxxx.deviantart.com/">(xxxSTIHIALxxx)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-5909488648139000282012-02-06T12:06:00.000-08:002012-02-06T18:03:51.793-08:00Office Wear Conundrum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://geniusbeauty.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/office-dangers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://geniusbeauty.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/office-dangers.jpg" width="165" /></a></div>
What does a twenty-five year old, part-time tomboy even wear to the office? Shockingly, this was about my biggest concern. I went to the interview in black skinny jeans and a blue cable-knit sweater over a ribbed tank-top. To be fair, I didn't understand that it was supposed to be the official interview.<br />
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I'd never filled out a personality quiz for a job before. Is that standard procedure these days?<br />
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My second worry? That being a full-time student with a part-time job would ruin the rest of this experience, not to mention my relationship. Oh, it would be fine at first, but you probably know what it's like when deadlines and finals come around.<br />
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When I was seventeen my mother told me to apply at the bank. I realized that days in pumps and pinstriped pants would kill me.<br />
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Yesterday I visited my farm. I let the calves suck my fingers and showed my boyfriend around our tri-sided parlour. I was a different person back then. But, more than that... I think... was that I was living one part of me. I can't do everything.<br />
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<a href="http://tashacleary.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/journalism.jpg?w=500" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://tashacleary.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/journalism.jpg?w=500" width="200" /></a></div>
So now, I have a desk, and a mac, and staff meetings. I still wear jeans. Sometimes even hiking boots. I was pleased to learn that my co-workers never wear heels or blouses. A few visits to the op shops, and I'm set to go with some cleaned up shirts and a pair of flats. I dropped two courses. Because school was supposed to be fun. Life matters.<br />
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I'm not sure how being a staff-writer and editorial contributor will fit me, but I'm excited to find out. Maybe one day I'll visit to show my kids around, and marvel that I was once this person. Meanwhile, the challenge will be enough to keep me around, for the first time in a while. I'll be pretending I know what I'm doing and that I'm quite used to this person.<br />
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And if you have any insight, I'm still open to ideas for what 25 year old, part time tomboys should be wearing to the office.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-68162923227590040522012-01-03T23:41:00.000-08:002012-02-06T18:08:34.964-08:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm not particularly fond of new years resolutions. Kind of hit and miss, depending on the circumstances. I do, however, like to use the new year for a little bit of introspection. This year, however, I haven't had the chance 'till now. I was tucked away at a refreshing winter camp. Then I was rushing home to rush through packing to rush back here to this mini-city. And, now, in the dying minutes of the third day of the new year, I want to think about the year past. I'm not particularly fond of memes, either. But every now and then I find one that's worth it.</span></div>
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<strong><em>What was 2011 for you?</em></strong></div>
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<strong>1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?</strong></div>
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I travelled north into the territories.</div>
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I learned to rock climb, ice climb, and I repelled off a bridge.</div>
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I went to regular full-time class for a full semester.</div>
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I was part of a quality music recording.</div>
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I volunteered at a camp.</div>
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I made gnocchi.</div>
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<strong>2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?</strong></div>
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There were none, but I knocked a few off my 101. There won't be any this year, either.</div>
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<strong>3. Did anyone close to you give birth?</strong></div>
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Yes, Jenni had another beautiful baby girl. One of my best friends and closest relatives is also due very soon!</div>
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<strong>4. Did anyone close to you die?</strong></div>
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No. A plight I've mostly been saved from so far in my young life.</div>
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<strong>5. What countries did you visit?</strong></div>
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The US of A. 2011, you have not been a good travelling year...</div>
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<strong>6. What would you like to have had in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?</strong></div>
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A fulfilling job. And, in a sense, I did. But it was part time writing and other freelancing. The full time stuff was duller than dishwater.</div>
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<strong>7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory and why?</strong></div>
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Actual dates? Sitting through the night listening to hippis play guitar, sing French folk songs, and dance around the fire, and tentatively holding hands. It will be remembered fondly.</div>
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<strong>8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?</strong></div>
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Four A+s, and an A, mastering freelance, and learning to love.</div>
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<strong>9. What was your biggest failure?</strong></div>
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Breaking a heart, not maintaining all the right friendships, working through summer.</div>
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<strong>10. Did you suffer illness or injury?</strong></div>
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Nothing serious. </div>
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<strong>11. What was the best thing you bought?</strong></div>
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The very best? Perhaps my motorbike... Good times were had!</div>
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<strong>12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?</strong></div>
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My siblings. All of them. I wish I could tell you how each has grown. How they've supported me. How I've loved them, even though we may fight on occasion.</div>
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<strong>13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?</strong></div>
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There was some unfortunate summer drama. I made some poor decisions. And I've also been disappointed by a past room mate/best friend. Why do good things end?</div>
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<strong>14. Where did most of your money go?</strong></div>
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School. And associated expenses. Blech.</div>
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<strong>15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?</strong></div>
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University. And a boy. Silly boys.</div>
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<strong>16. What song will always remind of you 2011?</strong></div>
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You want the unfortunate confession one? No Getting Over You... That one with LMFAO, Fergie, and all those other pop stars. 2011, though, has been a marvellous year for music. </div>
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<strong>17. Compared to this time last year, are:</strong></div>
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<strong>a)happier or sadder? </strong>Happier</div>
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<strong>b)thinner or fatter? </strong>Thinner, I think</div>
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<strong>c) richer or poorer? </strong>Close to even... But soon to be much poorer.</div>
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<strong>18. What do you wish you’d done more of?</strong></div>
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Travelling. </div>
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<strong>19. What do you wish you’d done less of?</strong></div>
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Working at my first-half job.</div>
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<strong>20. Did you fall in love in 2010?</strong></div>
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Yes. Yes, I did. I freaks me out, and makes me excited-happy all at once!</div>
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<strong>21. What was your favourite TV program?</strong></div>
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Big Bang Theory. I've never watched a single episode... But I'm pretty sure I think it's hilarious.</div>
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<strong>22. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?</strong></div>
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Hate... It's a strong strong word. No one comes to mind, so I don't believe so.</div>
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<strong>23. What was the best book you read?</strong></div>
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2011 was a poor year for reading. To many I <i>meant</i> to read, and not enough that I actually did.</div>
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<strong>24. What was your greatest musical discovery?</strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Elllie Goulding, Florence and the Machine, Adele, Lindsey Stirling. Looks like my tastes are taking a feminine twist... How odd.</span></div>
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<strong>25. What did you want and get?</strong></div>
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I wanted to leave my job and try something new. I wanted a solid relationship. </div>
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<strong>26. What did you want and not get?</strong></div>
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I wanted to travel. I wanted to snowboard more than I did. My wants didn't happen, but they were twisted and exceeded.</div>
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<strong>27. What was your favourite film of this year?</strong></div>
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I watch very few movies... And it takes a lot to really impress me... Tangled was good ;).</div>
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<strong>28. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?</strong></div>
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I turned 25. Somehow it phased me much less than 24. I entered it dancing in a barn loft with good people. I worked, another first ever, but briefly. And I got a stack of letters from the people I care for that I promised not to open until I turn 50.</div>
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<strong>29. How you would describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?</strong></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Increasingly athletic and tomboy, but I don't shy away from the feminine things I like. More make-up this year than ever before, which isn't saying much. Longer hair than since I graduated. Some kick-ass boots. Oh, and fake glasses everyday to school... Something has to help maintain those grades.</span></div>
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<strong>30. What kept you sane?</strong></div>
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My family. Oh, and chocolate.</div>
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<strong>31. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?</strong></div>
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I believe last year was Channing Tatum... This year there was no replacement. I like to stay firmly in reality...</div>
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<strong>32. Who did you miss?</strong></div>
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All sorts of people. Friends who's lives were part of mine, but who have moved on.</div>
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<strong>33. Who was the best new person you met?</strong></div>
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My blue-eyed boy. We met on a hotsprings roadtrip early on but didn't get to know each other until summer months and carefree days.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<strong>34. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.</strong></div>
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Compromising because you damn well want to isn't usually worth it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<strong>35. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.</strong></div>
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One lyric? I think not...</div>
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I picked this up on <a href="http://sayanotherlexi.wordpress.com/">Lexi's blog</a>. She doesn't know I exist, but I very highly recommend you visit.</div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-12880860403496453872011-12-23T21:36:00.000-08:002011-12-23T21:39:18.423-08:00Christmas Amendment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1VW4_APurwI/Tb12ry7LZVI/AAAAAAAABsk/kpSbo1SJYgk/s1600/newspaper-gift-wrapping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1VW4_APurwI/Tb12ry7LZVI/AAAAAAAABsk/kpSbo1SJYgk/s200/newspaper-gift-wrapping.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
In the spirit of the season, and rejecting the spirit of materialism, I propose the following amendment. Gifts may be exchanged if they fall under the following guidelines.<br />
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I will not be offended if I don't receive any gifts. </div>
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Presents can be homemade.</div>
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Gifts can be bought second hand, as long as I will not be offended if they get re-donated.</div>
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I can purchase gifts that are locally made/grown. For example, items from the farmer's market or craft fair.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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Presents can be something that you know the person really needs or wants (for example, socks).</div>
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<br /></div>
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Let's appreciate this Christmas season together! </div>
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Signed</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
___________________</div>
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My sister wrote this up two months ago on a scrap sheet of paper. At first it was just an idea, but each of my immediate family plus my sibling's room mate plus my boyfriend signed it. It's only binding to those who enter the agreement. It might sound a little Scrooge-like, but it makes you re-evaluate the whole Christmas thing. </div>
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What do you hope to get out of celebrating Christmas.</div>
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With times a bit tighter, out of our family of seven, plus the two extras, only two of my younger siblings are regularly employed. My Dad and brothers are waiting to sell a house. The room mate generally doesn't work and my boyfriend and I are both full-time students.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
That's not really why this amendment has made us rethink the season, though. We don't need just more stuff. We don't need to just purchase to fill expectations. There has been some incredibly creativity, and a little bit of socially conscious purchasing going on in this household this season. I still have a few friends I shopped for more traditionally... But this Christmas is going to be a little simpler and, in some ways, a little more meaningful.</div>
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I absolutely love this time of year! </div>
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However you celebrate, I hope it's an excellent holiday for you! </div>
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Merry Christmas</div>
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</div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-84615240504475018882011-11-13T13:09:00.001-08:002011-11-13T13:49:54.232-08:00Ladies Wear a Little Lipstick<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
I am a girl of very little make-up. Always have been, I don't imagine that will change. For the most part I think it's a construction of society aimed towards artificial impressions of expectation on females and surface beauty. I also think it causes a level of consumption that is both expensive and extremely harmful to the environment. Now that I've ranted that out I will admit that I have a tube of mascara and some make-up left behind by my favourite cousin when she was my room mate. I wear them sometimes when I want to feel particularly girly. Boys I've dated have always said (if I asked) that they prefer me without make-up, and I'm fairly confident they meant it. Works out well for me.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ld0VxLgB8hI/TRlXD0qTtLI/AAAAAAAAAkA/JX3prErp5OA/s1600/audrey-hepburn-circa-1956-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ld0VxLgB8hI/TRlXD0qTtLI/AAAAAAAAAkA/JX3prErp5OA/s200/audrey-hepburn-circa-1956-03.jpg" width="186" /></a></div>
This weekend I went to visit my Grandma. She thinks it important, to this day, to put a little time into her looks. She looked at my face full of natural beauty and asked, "Do you ever wear any make-up?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, once in a while. Not much. I'm not at the moment."<br />
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"I can tell." Gee, thanks Gram. "You should really wear some lipstick once in a while, you know. Do you ever wear lipstick?"<br />
<br />
"No. I haven't got any."<br />
<br />
<a href="http://data.whicdn.com/images/799850/3973921028_bb4741e508_thumb.jpg?1254615428" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="http://data.whicdn.com/images/799850/3973921028_bb4741e508_thumb.jpg?1254615428" width="200" /></a>With that my Grandma dragged my off to the washroom and opened her basket, the one that always fascinated me when I was but a child. She handed me a light pink shade. Once she'd admired that she told me I could wipe it off and try another. After trying five shades she decided I should have one, and narrowed it down to a deep shade, subtle if applied lightly.<br />
<br />
"And now let's powder your nose."<br />
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She's from a different era, my Grandma. One that delights in lipstick and stockings. Girls that remember the rationing of the war, the hippis of the '60s, and the silly acid washed denim age that I was born into. They did the twist and they prayed in school. They were teachers, nurses, secretaries and housewives.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Afm6-TcZ7Ho/TMW-ddrH_8I/AAAAAAAADhM/9lNk3D1Ufis/s1600/Elizabeth+Taylor+Lipstick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Afm6-TcZ7Ho/TMW-ddrH_8I/AAAAAAAADhM/9lNk3D1Ufis/s200/Elizabeth+Taylor+Lipstick.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
They faced it all with a tube of lipstick. Looking good, working hard, and caring for the men they loved.<br />
<br />
I'm not a lipstick girl. I'm not even a mascara girl. I'm sure the woman from my decade will never give up on this messy, clumpy black paste. Maybe they'll demand that they're liberalized granddaughters paint their eyelashes black. (I speak for Canadians. If you're from too far south feel free to continue with your lip liner and non-matching colour)<br />
<br />
Somehow I having a tube of lipstick in my pocket and a bit of colour on my lips made me feel like a lady. I don't think I'll ever signify glamour but maybe, once in a while, I'll tuck it in my bag for an evening out.<br />
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<a href="http://api.ning.com/files/9GQR9j5uo7ra5pd04WnAjYbjdHSKY4YseCq1qMVxLLIJ01qvtX37WueQUV7V9sYW4bj*ttYUl0Svgb*dtYZLnvYo5m*oKGCt/lipstickprintonwhitebackground.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://api.ning.com/files/9GQR9j5uo7ra5pd04WnAjYbjdHSKY4YseCq1qMVxLLIJ01qvtX37WueQUV7V9sYW4bj*ttYUl0Svgb*dtYZLnvYo5m*oKGCt/lipstickprintonwhitebackground.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-45327339079546717382011-11-07T18:00:00.000-08:002011-11-07T18:00:22.368-08:00Better Late Than Never?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
I realize the time for post-Halloween posts is almost a week past. </div>
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Still, I saw a another, but similar, <a href="http://thelizardspockexpansion.blogspot.com/2011/10/so-what-do-you-think-could-i-be-one-of.html">costume post</a> and thought, what the heck. </div>
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I mean, it took enough time to put together, right?</div>
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Who am I?</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TAGaMYAPmcM/TriKav3xRbI/AAAAAAAAAMI/tM6fiApFVG0/s1600/314528_10150429818456206_558386205_10720064_2107170178_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TAGaMYAPmcM/TriKav3xRbI/AAAAAAAAAMI/tM6fiApFVG0/s320/314528_10150429818456206_558386205_10720064_2107170178_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I told my guy that he better appreciate it since </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this is the only year I'll be a geek-themed character.</div>
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If you need another hint scroll on down.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rv92ZMN0m38/TriKXivTv4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/X3RNKHx7IcA/s1600/310934_10150429819576206_558386205_10720077_74014299_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rv92ZMN0m38/TriKXivTv4I/AAAAAAAAAMA/X3RNKHx7IcA/s320/310934_10150429819576206_558386205_10720077_74014299_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Several good nights were had by all. </div>
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Bowling, Barn dance, Karaoke... </div>
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I think Halloween is the only good chance we get </div>
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as "adults" to wear a costume (in public).</div>
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Oh, and eat candy unabashedly.</div>
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What's not to like?</div>
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<br />Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-31086492353126765622011-09-28T12:46:00.000-07:002011-09-28T12:46:19.808-07:00Broken PiecesI think of you like yesterday,<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs37/f/2008/268/1/f/1f06696084b9fb81e9ee38fe466994ff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs37/f/2008/268/1/f/1f06696084b9fb81e9ee38fe466994ff.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://elifkarakoc.deviantart.com/">(ElifKarakoc)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>a smile on your face.</div><div>An array of broken pieces</div><div>all but dappled shades of gray.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I think of you as everything.</div><div>Deception that was chance.</div><div>The thought of what we used to be.</div><div>Fading error, trip and dance.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I think of us as nothing,</div><div>just the stories that we told.</div><div>The passion of a summer's morn.</div><div>Open water, flakes of gold.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I ponder. Pensive. Carefully,</div><div>a thought I should forget.</div><div>The heavy rest of midnights past</div><div>a glimpse I should regret.</div><div><br />
</div><div>For tightly tangled, hidden now.</div><div>Leather boots, my thoughts, this kiss.</div><div>The comfort of an autumn day.</div><div>So much I must dismiss.</div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-64397833541830010782011-09-15T08:26:00.000-07:002011-09-15T08:26:53.344-07:00I Don't Shop at Walmart<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://smartcanucks.ca/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/ap_mcdonalds_food_070806_ms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://smartcanucks.ca/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/ap_mcdonalds_food_070806_ms.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #073763;">I'm Loving it...?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>It was when I was traveling with my sister that I first really started to notice an inconsistency with myself. I truly believe in things that I don't necessarily live out. An example at the time was McDonald's. I'm not a fan to begin with. At all, actually. I'm also not entirely supportive of globalization and I think McDonald's (or, to a greater extent, KFC) is a perfect representation of all that is negative with the concept. Still, there were a couple unfortunate times where we found ourselves with hours to waste before taking a bus/flight/taxi/ect but no hostel and we would park our over-sized backpacks on a tiled McDonald's floor and eat ninety cent sundaes that usually differentiated a little bit from one you'd buy in Detroit.<br />
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That's right. I am guilty of supporting McDonald's (but never KFC's) proliferation in third world countries. I always felt guilty about it. I don't even <i>ever</i> eat McDonald's here at home.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.zippycart.com/ecommerce-news/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/walmart-china.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://www.zippycart.com/ecommerce-news/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/walmart-china.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>About a year ago I was talking to some friends and the subject of Walmart came up. Yup, as you would imagine I don't think they're all that great either. Now, I do realize that Walmart is not<i> all </i>that is evil and wrong with the world. The just happen to be the biggest example. My sister, who just returned from local clinic midwifery work in the slums of Manila says that shopping, especially in Walmart type institutions just feels gross.<br />
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So one of my friends said, "I don't shop there (Walmart), I just don't. I think they do a lot of harm to small business and ethical practices. Sometimes it's tempting to run in and scoop up the cheap 'natural' peanut butter but, you know what? It's not worth it."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.corporate-eye.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/walmart2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.corporate-eye.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/walmart2.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>I was all, "Yeah, Allie! Good for you. I'm really supportive of that. I should really do that..." All the while feeling some nagging guilt that, even though I don't <i>believe </i>that supporting Walmart is a good thing I do it wholeheartedly anyway.<br />
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Before I turned twenty-five I decided to quit Walmart for at least a year. There is no Walmart in my hometown so I figured it wouldn't be hard to avoid that six times a year that I would normally shop there. That was before I knew I was moving to a small city with a central Walmart for my school year. I went in there once with a friend. The price drop signs beckoned me, but I'm extremely happy with my abstinence. At least I don't have to feel guilty with my fifteen dollar jeans or swear at them when the zippers break after a month.<br />
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Maybe eventually I'll put even more effort into eating locally. I'll drive less, pray more, stop procrastinating, go to bed on time... Until then I'll just blame Walmart.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-18955321750126297402011-09-07T13:02:00.000-07:002011-09-07T13:02:23.478-07:00Worth HavingCome Autumn I<a href="http://becauseorwhynot.blogspot.com/2010/09/autumn-beats-me-up.html"> need change</a>... and things. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/067/b/a/ba0ff3aa46c6c6d429dbc32fc3e012cb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/067/b/a/ba0ff3aa46c6c6d429dbc32fc3e012cb.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>It's been a summer full of fun, confusion and living like I was free. It was rope swings and barbeques. Rock climbing and iced coffee. It was boys and camping and a star spread sky. To much rain and not enough lightening. Best friends and family, the two of those combined. Long talks, happiness and the world beneath my motorbike. It was mistakes for all of us, decisions among us and more good relationships than I could possibly have hoped.<br />
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It was a summer worth having.<br />
<br />
And now I'm here. In a big empty beige house with no furniture. And in classrooms discussing Philosophy, Psychology and knowing I'll be struggling through homework. Learning how to write creatively. Because I've never dabbled in that before. Thinking about taking on more freelance journalism through this all. With a blue-eyed boy I care for. In a city I've always thought was unattractive discovering hidden places where beauty exists.<br />
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Feeling seventeen sitting on the back step drinking lemonade out of mugs because we don't have chairs or glasses. Holding hands, smiling lots. Opening crisp new school supplies and learning my way around.<br />
<br />
It's more change than I could possibly hope for. It should be a fall worth having.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-64730048554659971012011-08-04T20:16:00.000-07:002011-08-06T22:19:00.787-07:00Exciting Stuff. Unexciting Presentation.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RhqiCVgpDR0/SmNWyZhuFSI/AAAAAAAAAnI/jMfYUejhmlI/s400/summer+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RhqiCVgpDR0/SmNWyZhuFSI/AAAAAAAAAnI/jMfYUejhmlI/s320/summer+girl.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>I've seen a few of these around these days. These brief and simple updates to let you know what's going on in everyone's lives. Let's blame summer, shall we?<br />
<br />
It's the depressing irony of blogging: when things actually happen you don't write. Anyway, I'm going to list. I am sorry.<br />
<br />
1. I am 25. I know that's a big number but I'm completely unfazed. Weird, I know. 23-24 seemed a much bigger jump to me. I'm not particularly accomplished for a 25 year old but I'm exactly alright with where I'm at. It's been a while since I was this fine with getting older.<br />
<br />
2. I'm going back to school! I know, about time, right? Quitting my job and getting heading to university... Probably. Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
3. I just got back from a road trip to Alberta. It's was awesome. I'm always excited to spend a little bonding time with my brothers. I'm also learning to rock climb. 'Cause I'm hardcore like that. And also I have to much money to throw away on gear... Apparently. Yeah right.<br />
<br />
4. I'm going to camp! To counsel. 14-17 year olds. The easy age group, don't you think? Out trips and all. Yup. <a href="http://becauseorwhynot.blogspot.com/p/101-in-1001.html"> 101</a>, you are going down!<br />
<br />
That's all for now. In short I am ridiculously excited about life! I have to go camping now and I will be away sailing next weekend. I will update you in the future, though. I might even write properly once in a while. Cheers!Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-1171210815235573282011-07-08T16:05:00.000-07:002011-07-08T16:05:52.324-07:00Wrapped in FleeceI'm lying on the floor. On the edge of the carpet. Wrapped in fleece. Trying to sleep. Except that I'm really actually looking at the footprints in the dust on the hardwood that blew through the open window. That I'm really listening to "Bookends" without really listening at all. Because acoustic guitar is just part of the background. Because that's just where I'm from.<br />
<br />
And I'm writing this down on the space that's my mind. And aware of my breath and the things that unwind. Listening to "Blue Jean Blues" without really listening. Because that's just the way I am.<br />
<br />
Needing this place. Some time just to breathe. A break from the best and a place for my dreams. Listening to "Old Love" without really listening. Because that's just where I'm at. Needing to be alone, wrapped in fleece and trying to sleep. <br />
<br />
Wishing you were here.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-75918063410225620192011-07-03T23:00:00.000-07:002011-07-03T23:00:18.611-07:00In My BloodI'd like to start by saying that I grew up on motorbikes. I'd like to, but I can't. Still, I think it's somehow in my genes. My parents fell in love on a motorcycle. Riding out to band practice. Taking of their helmets to kiss on that first date when they were younger than my now-youngest sibling.<br />
<br />
By time I came along motorcycles were traded for a brown Toyota with car seats in the back and an ancient pick-up to go with a budding construction business. Five kids later these eventually turned into a stubborn minivan and "Big Red," (hint: not a bike.)<br />
<br />
I always knew, regardless, that my parents both held class 6 driver's licenses. At ten I had my first ride when my Dad's oldest friend brought around his cruiser. I don't remember what it was but I remember the thrill and the wind on my arms. I clung tight as we accelerated. I didn't know about counter-steering and had it explained to me after trying consistently to upright on corners.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://thebrighams.com/1975%20Yamaha%20DT100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="http://thebrighams.com/1975%20Yamaha%20DT100.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Once a biker always in your blood, so I've been told. Once you start you'll never really stop. When I was fourteen my parents bought a little orange Yamaha Enduro 100 from roughly the stone-age, aka the 1970s. That's what I learned to drive up and down our lane. With a throttle in your fist and no license in your pocket 100ccs feels like a lot of power. 20MPH feels like a lot of speed. An old gold helmet from your parent's dating days feels pretty cool. And it starts to get in your blood.<br />
<br />
At sixteen I drove it on Mexican highways to neighboring villages for an internet fix. The smell of tortillas and the muggy wind on my face was nothing but pure independence. I wanted more. My little brother drives it around mountain roads with his friends now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.canadianlisted.com/nlarge/1981-honda-cm-400-for-800_5931623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://images.canadianlisted.com/nlarge/1981-honda-cm-400-for-800_5931623.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I moved out and my parent's young family grew up enough to justify getting rid of the minivan. They bought a Honda 400. This time only from the Dark Ages. AKA, the early 1980s. It looked like this only until my oldest brother turned his mad airbrushing skills its way. I made it past the first two steps of licensing and then life got in the way. I still hoped for the wind on my face and a ride down the lake but my lifetime commitment of achieving my own class 6 was still out of reach. <br />
<br />
My middle brother fixed up a Honda 400 dual sport from the same era and would take me burning around mountain trails and rock outcroppings. I learned to manage the kick start and I'd take it out on my own. My cousin let me take a less-than-legal spin on his 600 crotch rocket. It was only a matter of time. My license requirements finally fit themselves in last year.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h234/Badshadow_2006/017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h234/Badshadow_2006/017.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Here's what I'm driving these days. Yamaha Seca 550. Check off <a href="http://becauseorwhynot.blogspot.com/p/101-in-1001.html">item 24</a>. Apparently we have a thing for old-school bikes. Yes, it's also from the dark ages. But it's still a whole lotta fun.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-2398279424934402842011-06-28T20:55:00.000-07:002011-06-28T21:01:56.198-07:00I TryShe was from Stats Canada ("Or elections B.C. Or something like that..."). My sister was pretty much her choice demographic.<br />
<br />
"Did you vote in the last election?"<br />
"Errr. I was out of the country."<br />
"So you didn't vote?"<br />
"Uh... No."<br />
"You weren't aware of alternative voting options?<br />
"There are alternative voting options?"<br />
"Alright, thank-you. How did you hear about last election?"<br />
"Facebook."<br />
"And your primary source of information?"<br />
"Ummm, Facebook."<br />
"Did you receive your Elections Canada voter's card?"<br />
"...My parents might have..."<br />
"How did you know you're registered to vote?"<br />
"I'm registered to vote?"<br />
"So, have you ever voted in a national or regional election?"<br />
"Umm... I don't know. I don't remember. I don't think so?"<br />
<br />
They say change should start at home. I try. Really, I do.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-910633214505792392011-06-16T11:32:00.000-07:002011-06-16T22:36:56.120-07:00I am Canadian. I am Embarrassed.Alright, so we lost. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.tntmagazine.com/cfs-filesystemfile.ashx/__key/CommunityServer.Components.SiteFiles/TNT+TODAY+BLOG.1450/vancouver_2D00_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://www.tntmagazine.com/cfs-filesystemfile.ashx/__key/CommunityServer.Components.SiteFiles/TNT+TODAY+BLOG.1450/vancouver_2D00_4.jpg" width="450" /></a></div><br />
That doesn't even really matter right now. I admit that I never invested very heavy emotion into this series. Regardless, any disappointment in the loss is severely overshadowed by disgust in what followed in Vancouver last night.<br />
<br />
I turned off the t.v. And went for a walk with a friend. I'm glad to say that every fan I know, personally, handled themselves with decorum, even congratulating Boston. Unfortunately, the gathered "fans" in Vancouver's streets had other ideas.<br />
<br />
I'm embarrassed for Vancouver. They're going to have reason to wake up hungover and embarrassed for themselves. It's a beautiful city. I know that what I say won't have any neutralizing affect on international headlines but I want to say that the vast majority of us are appalled, anyway.<br />
<br />
Maybe Canada needs to learn what it is to have something worth rioting about. Because apparently some of us think our tax dollars and reputation are worth burning away with RCMP cruisers and frustration of a lost hockey game.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://static.foxsports.com/content/fscom/img/2011/06/16/riot2-pi_2011061600253966_660_320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="http://static.foxsports.com/content/fscom/img/2011/06/16/riot2-pi_2011061600253966_660_320.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-34125621949813760602011-06-08T11:07:00.000-07:002011-06-08T11:07:06.806-07:00Scratch ThatI kind of forgot what blogging is about. Actually, scratch that. I never really knew what blogging is all about. Quite honestly, I've always been confused there. I know I don't blog strictly for myself. I certainly don't blog for financial gain. What is it that's so fulfilling about posting my ramblings on the internet?<br />
<br />
Regardless, I still managed to somehow forget. And, I suppose, sometimes a breather is needed. I have no intention of actually going away. I've been dreadfully sick with a tonsil infection but it's just now starting to clear up. I still like mutual-like guy, and it's still mutual. However, we just recently decided to just be friends for the moment. Mostly due to my reservations. It's kind of sad but also remarkably relieving and I'm happy with the decision. In an ironic twist he gained a lot of additional respect by concluding that I needed to be confident with my decision and either jump in or step back.<br />
<br />
Today it's raining and I have on my rainy-day mood. All of a sudden I refuse to be carefree and I need to question everything. Here I am. Maybe that's what my blogging is about.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/077/2/8/good_moments_in_bad_weather_by_dannyst-d3byaj1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/077/2/8/good_moments_in_bad_weather_by_dannyst-d3byaj1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(<a href="http://dannyst.deviantart.com/">Dannyst</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-70482563551093157542011-05-28T18:36:00.000-07:002011-05-28T18:36:43.553-07:00As Open as the Road Can Get<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WEtDqzdY4ZU/TeGhyxG77QI/AAAAAAAAAKI/1tkhDFAjKAQ/s1600/101_1354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WEtDqzdY4ZU/TeGhyxG77QI/AAAAAAAAAKI/1tkhDFAjKAQ/s320/101_1354.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x9h4oRXxhyY/TeGh6hTEVcI/AAAAAAAAAKM/FGnSUAFbjY0/s1600/101_1329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x9h4oRXxhyY/TeGh6hTEVcI/AAAAAAAAAKM/FGnSUAFbjY0/s320/101_1329.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yC0-Xc9aJn4/TeGh_gJJgjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/aikwmrsXv2o/s1600/101_1389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yC0-Xc9aJn4/TeGh_gJJgjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/aikwmrsXv2o/s320/101_1389.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgBK4tKzKjE/TeGiD5jGdGI/AAAAAAAAAKU/bbf6p0OwuXI/s1600/101_1394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgBK4tKzKjE/TeGiD5jGdGI/AAAAAAAAAKU/bbf6p0OwuXI/s320/101_1394.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KXKnunfMFFY/TeGiMzGwU_I/AAAAAAAAAKY/5VAaX1kRsog/s1600/101_1412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KXKnunfMFFY/TeGiMzGwU_I/AAAAAAAAAKY/5VAaX1kRsog/s320/101_1412.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tIMdXt9tFu4/TeGiTfqwE6I/AAAAAAAAAKc/S_P-x5DmlaU/s1600/IMG_0026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tIMdXt9tFu4/TeGiTfqwE6I/AAAAAAAAAKc/S_P-x5DmlaU/s320/IMG_0026.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And a good time was had by all.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-26258865133055856642011-05-24T23:20:00.000-07:002011-05-25T09:02:19.737-07:00That's Me, Alright<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TqcNkKFLFN4/Td0n7FCCN9I/AAAAAAAAAKE/73cXhfH1t9g/s1600/hip-hop-dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TqcNkKFLFN4/Td0n7FCCN9I/AAAAAAAAAKE/73cXhfH1t9g/s320/hip-hop-dance.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>Shayla: Oh, I love Taylor Swift.<br />
Kris: I like Taylor Swift far to much for a self-respecting twenty-four year old who doesn't like country.<br />
Shayla: I love country music. You don't like country?<br />
Kris: Nope.<br />
Shayla: What do you like to listen to, then?<br />
Kris: Ummm, I listen to a lot of different stuff. Mostly like....<br />
Shayla (interrupting): Hip hop?<br />
Kris: Errr, no, more like.... Wait. Hip hop? Do I strike you as someone who listens to hip hop?<br />
Shayla: Yeah. Or, you know, something you can groove out to.<br />
<br />
Apparently I come across as a pretty groovy person.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-92031026762607350392011-05-02T17:35:00.000-07:002011-05-02T17:35:26.549-07:00HereThis post will not be long. It will not have photos, it will not rhyme, and my wording will not be impeccable. I will not be telling you to vote (my ballot was cast advance) or commenting on certain political developments. This is the first full blog post I am composing via iPad, but my reasons are good.<br />
<br />
I am in Prince George, en route in a two week back-country hard-camping road trip to the Yukon. Last night we slept under Jasper stars and watched a hint of northern lights streaking the sky.<br />
<br />
I recently turned down a job promotion, met a boy I share a lot of mutual like with, found a room mate with a thirst for adventure and a long history of learning to appreciate each other (we're succeeding). Pre-wrote half a month of paid posts and put my car on the road after biking for a month.<br />
<br />
It's nice to have an open road, a full tank of gas and two of the coolest brothers you can imagine to share this with. This is here.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-21859118133076145902011-04-30T08:00:00.000-07:002011-04-30T08:00:00.152-07:00Bloggerstock: Photo Inspired<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWgaPNhHHs8/Tbrpo6lzEgI/AAAAAAAAAKA/XWy_6ejEyBo/s1600/BSBanner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eWgaPNhHHs8/Tbrpo6lzEgI/AAAAAAAAAKA/XWy_6ejEyBo/s400/BSBanner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i style="font-style: italic; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</i></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I'm so pleased, this month, to be hosting K. Syrah! I don't read many social commentary blogs (they're a little too biased for me), but K. has one I've been gladly following for a long time, now. Be sure to <a href="http://www.shoesneverworn.com/">check it out</a>. I'm certain her bit of writing from our photo inspired topic (how cool is that) will make you want to visit. Now, on to the post.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><hr /><br />
<div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 1.35em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i style="font-style: italic; line-height: 16px;">I’m K. Syrah, I blog at <a href="http://www.shoesneverworn.com/">Shoes Never Worn</a>, and this is a story about a Dad and his little girl.</i> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://bloggerstock.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/DSC_0038-199x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://bloggerstock.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/DSC_0038-199x300.jpg" /></a></div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>He watched her grow up, in tiny shoes, and tiny socks, with floral dresses and mismatched little caps on golden curls. He remembered tying her hair up into little pigtails, combing the ringlets and ticking her under her arms until she squealed and giggled with delight.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>He lifted her up, propping her on his shoulders when the Christmas parade came into town, just so she could see over the heads of the on-lookers. Her little gently hands wrapped around his forehead as she laughed she pointed and gawked at the fat man in red, with his wavy white beard.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>Then came the day when she didn’t need him to do her hair, to tie her shoes, or to put a little bow in her sundress.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>She stopped reaching for his hand, and she crossed the road on her own. First looking over her shoulder to see if it was okay, then later, looking straight ahead, because she knew it was okay.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>Her little hands were swinging freely at her side, and he watched her grow up tall until the day came that all fathers dread; the day their little girl thrusts her hip to the side, with a stubborn hand on her belt loop, looks at him with defiant eyes.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>“As long as you live under this roof, young lady, you’ll obey our rules!”</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>Then, she wasn’t under his roof anymore and she drifted even further; across the country, to a college dorm room. She’s talking to boys, saying, doing and acting like she can cross the road without him over her shoulder.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span>But she’s just a kid, in tiny shoes, and golden curls.</div><div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><hr /><br />
<div class="ecxMsoNormal" style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You can check out my post at co-founder Alex Weisman's<a href="http://icewolf08.com/"> blog</a>! And, of course, you can sign up to participate in the next Bloggerstock through the<a href="http://bloggerstock.net/"> home site</a>.</div>Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-13977608442317800752011-04-13T16:30:00.000-07:002011-04-13T16:42:50.721-07:00If You're CanadianI was up 'till 2:30 last night watching the<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/canadavotes2011/leaders-debate/"> National Leaders English Debate</a> (as any of you who follow me on <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/Greentigress">Twitter</a> know full well...). If you're American you might want to skip this post. Because, you know, it's international politics so it really doesn't matter. <br />
<br />
In case you don't have over two hours to watch the debate's entirety here are the general impressions. If you're Canadian, though, I do recommend viewing it. And then voting. Because you live in a democratic country and you better appreciate that. Just watch a news clip on Libyan rebels for a little perspective.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRe5IN1e11cU_CO7RCzBr8jTrDLlMvb-BqZ8c_Skg3BpsRQh3OL-g" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRe5IN1e11cU_CO7RCzBr8jTrDLlMvb-BqZ8c_Skg3BpsRQh3OL-g" /></a></div><b>The Bloc Quebecois:</b> Duceppe treated this debate exactly as one should expect of a Blog Quebecois leader. Quite frankly, it got boring. He referred, at least twice, to Quebec as a nation. None of the other leaders were stupid enough to point out that he was sorely mistaken. The poor guy is a little misinformed. Not in good taste for a party leader. I, however, am an unpaid semi-anon blogger with no influence in Quebec so I don't mind saying that, in actuality, provincial referendums have defeated sovereignty twice. Grow up, suck it up, and learn to contribute to the actual country you help govern.<br />
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I'm not anti-Quebec. I've lived there and I have struggled to try and form some degree of pride in our dual-heritage. My redneck friends aren't helping and neither are the separatists. It's extremists that make me want to swear off French. A shame and something that's not going to do Canada a bit of good.<br />
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Oh, and taking a question about immigration and using it to yell at Layton about bill 101? Not classy. In the end I just want to laugh at Duceppe's obvious agitation, singular agenda and pronunciation of "ghetto," (geeto) and "ship." I'm sure he's owning in today's French language debate.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRioZLQSsQ_u9l2LULkp9LIFGNM1ecxm_N05ADdlv7rxileNHGv" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="75" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRioZLQSsQ_u9l2LULkp9LIFGNM1ecxm_N05ADdlv7rxileNHGv" width="320" /></a></div><b>The New Democratic Party: </b>Jack Layton was clearly upset at references throughout the debate to the fact that the next government will be either Liberal or Conservative (even if, more then likely, a minority). I can understand that it gets frustrating being the head of a party that never even gets the title of official opposition. However, Layton needs to realize his party is unproven. His flippant idealism has to be accepted because it's never been tried nationally. Somehow he managed to avoid straight-up saying that the NDP really isn't all that concerned about the deficit or tax cuts. The NDP wants to promise ready medicare solutions, open immigration policies and an environmental agenda.<br />
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Layton also went out of his way to slam the Liberal leader for supporting certain initiatives brought through by the Conservatives. Look. Nothing wrong with that. If it's something they can support then, for crying out loud, support it.<br />
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NDP's economics freak me out. Jack Layton will appeal to the buy-now pay-laters. People without foresight. In short, the NDP will win a few seats thanks to socialist votes. I think high-spending socialism is something Canada has taken to far already. Layton, however, is also the most engaging of the four leaders. The one that I can most easily imagine buying his grandkids ice cream. He was well spoken, at least.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRzVju405Bf3H94ABcBCJc3EAWTaezMYBjM5BLyUkdnR_KwkSUIvA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRzVju405Bf3H94ABcBCJc3EAWTaezMYBjM5BLyUkdnR_KwkSUIvA" /></a></div><b>The Liberal Party: </b>This is where the politics gets serious. We're down to the two top parties in Canada's history and the Liberals want their lead back.<br />
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There is really no argument that the three participating opposition leaders pounded away on Steven Harper throughout. Ignattief contributed his share in attempting to paint the Conservative party as one full of scandal. Expected, I suppose, given the historic coalition and the contempt of parliament against the current minority. <br />
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The Liberal leader did, however, bring some valid points to the table. He is fairly adamant that something must be done to remedy Canada's falling reputation on the international stage. He was the only leader who pointed out that an American justice system <i>doesn't work. </i>He was also the main voice for initiative in healthcare that begins with education and Canadian effort.<br />
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Ignattief readily stated that he's fond of the idea of raising corporate taxes. He figures this will fund extensive moves in post-secondary education, in child-care, in green initiative and in international policiy... For a start. Certainly strong promises. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQfXLFiuTSAImP5Q30zAW0BVW2gPYQ5RX9SfMYEo85o43RAgo6b" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQfXLFiuTSAImP5Q30zAW0BVW2gPYQ5RX9SfMYEo85o43RAgo6b" /></a></div><b>The Conservative Party: </b>Harper certainly took attack after attack in this debate. Not surprising. He has been governing the country for five years so everything can be blamed on him. Opposition mostly had to do with a lack of releasing certain financial reports, a plan to buy fighter jets and the traditional conservative tendency to avoid international spending and meeting environmental targets.<br />
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Harper was steadfast and brought replies to the table that focussed on his party's commitment to easing the deficit and lowering taxes in a bid to improve the economy. In my opinion Harper was the only leader who willingly laid out strong economical intent. He also stated several times that we're in the throes of an election "that Canadians didn't want." He's actually being ballsy enough to say he wants a majority so he can get things done.<br />
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Harper may hurt himself with an endless focus on tax cuts. What do Canadians really want? He's refusing to make promises in regards to the international stage and the environment. Healthcare is a major debate that I did not hear any definite conclusion to from Harper. Medical coverage is something embraced by all Canadians that is not going anywhere. <br />
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Harper doesn't have all the answers. He certainly doesn't have all the election promises. But if they country wants a stodgy follow-through on solid economic effort he may be in the right place.<br />
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I don't actually like politics. They will not be making a regular appearance on my blog. I will, however, be voting. If you're Canadian then I expect that you will be too.Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6791381.post-82258670104862058182011-04-11T22:45:00.000-07:002011-04-11T22:56:07.312-07:00Debt: A Crisis I Can't Make Sense Of.There are <s>several</s> many things in life, in our society, that I don't even pretend to understand. Our disrespect for our elders. Our tendency to be workaholics. Our willingness to cheapen so many experiences. Our fear of death. Even the ones I engage in I don't understand. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRShb1wV3ZcR_jNlyg03ZXJdtCxpLY9vXEwqRGMJZvYDNUBWBKQuA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRShb1wV3ZcR_jNlyg03ZXJdtCxpLY9vXEwqRGMJZvYDNUBWBKQuA" /></a></div>But this post is about debt. I just don't get it. We're a society driven by the stuff. When I Google "Average debt in the Canadian household," the front page is full of <a href="http://www.vancouversun.com/travel/Average+Canadian+family+debt+hits/4298501/story.html">articles</a> on how Canada's average debt surpassed $100,000 this February. One. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars. On average! Americans are in even <a href="http://www.visualeconomics.com/the-american-familys-financial-turmoil_2010-04-29/">worse shape</a>. <br />
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Why are we okay with this?<br />
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Back in the day if you wanted more land you went out and grew some wheat and if your crop succeeded you expanded. If you didn't have a crop and you needed a new jacket you went out and harvested someone else's until you got paid and then you bought what you needed. I'm sorry, but doesn't that make sense?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSNgUsQo8QUkxkc6RdeDbaYwSEuW2B7j_uz2DycFhpHw8TY_rbD" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSNgUsQo8QUkxkc6RdeDbaYwSEuW2B7j_uz2DycFhpHw8TY_rbD" /></a></div>The worst part is we're not even over our heads in order to put food on our tables. We're buying homes that are significantly larger then they were just a decade ago. We're charging brand-new clothes and restaurant meals on credit cards that have interest rates to the tune of 20%. Twenty. Percent. Is that annoying? I can quit spelling it out like that.<br />
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I don't mean to be down on anyone who lost their job because of the downturn and can't find other work. Or any American with unexpected medical expenses. Or the single Mom, or someone reeling from a nasty divorce. Or the student who got in over their head. But where do we draw the line?<br />
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Some debt makes sense. A mortgage on a basic home, for example (take into consideration, first, housing prices). Also certain small business loans. Let me put a disclaimer here: I am not a gambler by nature and I will never treat my finances like I am. Low risk, low reward.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ6RpIH_LzCiS7_3u7VGUNJu5PikPwNo6oxf2h_WTo-tvUtxsrC0Q" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ6RpIH_LzCiS7_3u7VGUNJu5PikPwNo6oxf2h_WTo-tvUtxsrC0Q" /></a></div>I'm also not an economics expert. I almost definitely make less money then you. I don't fully understand credit scores or RRSPs. I do have the advantage of not having to pay for a degree at a prestigious school. I live in a small home with a room mate. I drive a car from 1998 that I work on myself and sometimes I buy clothes from a thrift store. <br />
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But I live very comfortably. Admittedly, I don't have children and I live in a low-cost part of the country (read: rural). I prioritize. I get a thrill out of saving. I also travel extensively, but cheaply. I choose to go through periods without steady employment. I volunteer. I market farm. <br />
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I know, I have the luxury. I live in a prosperous society. But I could live for years on what my fellow countrymen owe, on <i>average</i>.<br />
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I work and then I buy the things I want. <br />
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Doesn't that make sense?Krishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10125364157446474178noreply@blogger.com2