Remember Snow?

Friday morning at 4:30am, snow came to Halifax. I know because I was still awake, working on an assignment. All-nighters. Woo.

It was 4:15am, I had just finished half of my work, and I was hard into procrastination mode. Who procrastinates on an all-nighter, you wonder? Me. I do. I grabbed the box of Girl Guide Cookies my mother sent me and went downstairs to where my friend was working front desk.

I had just returned to my room when I turned to look out the window. In the orange glow of the lights that illuminate campus at night, I saw flakes filling the air. Every year, I forget how snow looks when it's actually snowing. How the air completely fills with flecks of white. How it's so magical.

It was fairly warm during the day, so most of the snow turned to slush, but some has stuck to the grass and roofs. It definitely looks wintery out there. The bite of the smell of snow is in the air.

I went out to meet my friends, last night, when I had finished class for the day. It just so happened I'd elected to wear a skirt and tights that day, and when I stepped out, I was reminded of another winter feeling I'd forgotten about. Girls, do you remember when you were little, how dressing up in tights and a dress and going out when it was dark outside was a special occasion? As I walked down the street at 6 o'clock, it was dark. I was cozied into my coats and hat and scarf, but the wind blew my skirt around my legs and I inhaled the snowy smell. And I felt... small. And alive. Like I was eight and on my way somewhere exciting. I smiled, and right then I saw a big group of my friends entering the house ahead of me. It made me feel warm and fuzzy. When it gets dark so early and the wind picks up, I crave companionship like no other time. It definitely makes me miss Phil all the more. Long distance is hard. I'm upset with it at the moment.

The theme of childhood continued last night. After one gathering, I went out to see Where the Wild Things Are with some friends I would consider Grown Ups (most of them time). We were all like eight-year-olds in that theater, laughing and gasping and sitting with our mouths hanging open. The movie was lovely. I cried when it was over. We walked back to the car and swapped favourite moments.

" Remember: 'Nobody listens to you, do they?' "

"Oh, and 'That was my favourite arm!' "

"And then, in the next scene, he just has a stick. No one says anything."

"And just they slept in a pile. A big pile."

"Wonderful."

It was wonderful. I came home and decided I needed to build a fort. I pulled aside my bed. I moved some chairs. I pulled my extra sheets out of the closet. I used binder clips. I moved things, I stacked things... I changed my plans... and then I failed. I stood in the middle of the room in my tank top and underwear (you can't build a fort in tights, especially not in an overheated room), with a pillow in my hand and looked at my mess. Then I picked up my mattress, put it back on the bed, arranged my covers, and curled up in them. I pushed the window wide open and smelled the snow and the night air and cigarettes from below and I made an empty promise to myself that I could - and would - build a fort. But not tonight.

Halloween

As usual, Halloween snuck up on me and I didn't come up with a costume until the last second. My costumes never end up being all that great because I have this incredibly aversion to buying something purely for a costume. It's the cheap part of me putting its foot down. Luckily, I (and a couple friends) had the fixings for a decent gypsy costume, one of my favourites from when I was younger. It was the only costume I repeated two years in a row. I think I liked it the best because I got to wear red lipstick.

Here I am in my costume:


Before the partying portion of the night started, I went to a lecture on Dracula and the evolution of the vampire. It was given by one of my favourite King's profs, and it bolstered my mood quite well. I was feeling a little down after my dad left and wasn't feeling very Halloween-y. Curran's jokes and the scary movie clips put me right in the spooky mood.

Tonight I'm being productive. No really! I am. Journalism assignments and HOST readings have my name all over them.

ALSO: T - 13 days to my birthday. I can't wait.

A Visit

My dad arrived in town last night to visit.

I didn't get to see him until this morning. I was running late (the usual; the closer you are to something, the later you'll be) and came clomping down the stairs in my boots to find my dad sitting in front of the desk. He looked the same as I remember, the white beard, the carefully selected clothes, the stylish shades. He also looked completely comfortable and relaxed - he fit in perfectly. When my mom showed up, I remember feeling completely weirded out by her presence. I was glad to see her - but it was a colliding worlds moment. Not so with my dad. He fits perfectly.

I brought him to breakfast and a FYP lecture. Even though I am no longer a FYPer, I knew that a FYP lecture would be the best way to let my dad see what King's is all about. We planned his visit so he could see the lecture today, by one Wayne Hankey, and he did not disappoint. My dad loved it.

We poked around on campus, he saw my room, and we went out to grab a sandwich for lunch. I invited him to sit in on my afternoon class (it's only nine people, but he met my prof in the FYP lecture, and the prof invited him too) but he wanted to take off and look around Halifax. Here I'd been worrying about entertaining him, keeping him interested - I forget how good my dad is at doing that for himself.

We're going to the High Mass at the chapel this evening, so he can experience that and meet some of my friends. After dinner, he'll turn in early and I'll get some work done and we'll do it all over again tomorrow.

"You have a nice life here, it seems," my dad said over lunch.

I guess I do. But it's weird to think about this being a life. A separate life. To me, Ottawa, Halifax, it's all my life. It's all part of the same thing. But to my parents, it's a separate life. It doesn't include them. At times like these, I miss them extra, even when they're right next to me, on the end of the phone or in my city.

The lamest lucid dream ever

I have an oral presentation tomorrow and, in high school angst-style, it's made its way into my dreams.

Two nights ago, I dreamed I was in a play. It was a short play and I had a small part, but for some reason I hadn't yet been able to learn my lines. The play was about to be performed to an audience, at my old elementary school (??). I was fretting and fussing and freaking out right up to the point where I was about to walk on the stage. I was madly trying to memorize my lines (unsuccessfully) when my cue came. I took two steps on to the stage, thought "I don't need to learn these lines, this is just a dream! It doesn't matter!" and turned and left.

I guess that means I was having a lucid dream; isn't that the way it is when you realize you're having a dream in your dream? Well, I thought lucid dreams meant you were in control, but this one did not work that way. I tossed and turned all night, stuck in this annoying dream where I couldn't remember my lines and people were mad at me but I knew it was totally not important.

Hmm. Shrink that, I dare ya.

***************

So, I didn't get as much work done as I would have liked, last weekend. But I enjoyed the fall air, away from the city. I went canoeing on the Kennebecasis River and the marsh near Phil's house. I ate the most delicious lobster roll, again, courtesy of Phil's mom. I did some reading curled up on the couch with someone I love very much. What more could one ask of a weekend?

I will next see Phil in three weeks, when he comes to visit for my birthday (YAY!). I can't wait.

In NB

I'm back in the land of New Brunswick for the weekend. I'm hoping it will give me a chance to relax, read, and hit 'reset' on my internal dialogue.

The past few weeks have been stressful for me. I'm not too sure why that is - I have five classes to balance, just like everyone else, and I didn't even have many midterms. Somehow I still ended up in the sad territory of Behind In Every Class.

Not true, actually - not in journalism 2001. Somehow I'm on track there.

Everything else is a bit of a nightmare. I don't know what my problem is, frankly; I wish I could figure out a system where I could balance my work and my society stuff and my life. I'm a strong believer that social life can be as important as academics, and I don't want to let my friendships fall by the wayside, but I have some serious catching up to do. For serious.

Mostly in the past weeks I've been stressing my face off and accomplishing little. This is not helpful. I even considered not going home with Phil for this weekend visit, due to my homework. But in the end, I decided that I needed some time away to relax and work at once. Unwind a little. Breathe.

I have indeed been breathing. The air here smells good and the trees are all naked against the crisp, blue sky. Phil and I went tromping around in the woods behind his house. I seem to be cursed to bring ridiculous amounts of rain to flood the basement and the yard every time I come. Just lucky, I guess. We spent the afternoon digging a ditch to diver water and taking a walk through the forest. I have tuckered myself out.

I don't know what tomorrow will be; we have some plans for outings we might take. I just hope I finish some work and breathe in the fall air.

Happy fall, everyone.

A bad start

Today did not start well.

I woke up with my alarm at 8:15. This is bad. If I've had anywhere near enough sleep, I wake up at 8:05, and lie awake waiting for my alarm. I look out at the quad, I study the light; the sun's light is really beautiful at that time of day. I really enjoy a few quiet minutes thinking before I get up and start my day.

Now, I know I woke up with my alarm only because I turned it off. That is the only way I could come to be lying in bed, stirred by a loud conversation in the hallway, at 9:10. My cell phone was sitting silently in my hand. Great.

I ran to breakfast to try to grab something to eat before it closed. Unfortunately, I was still half asleep. For some reason, there was a new coffee percolator at the tea and coffee station. It sticks out more. I noticed the difference because when I filled my tea and moved over to the milk part, I knocked against it, spilling the tea everywhere and scalding my hand. After swearing loudly, and jumping up and down, I refilled my tea. And did the same thing over again. I scalded myself TWICE. Ouch.

It was gray and gross today, which made me sleepy and I felt weirdly light-headed a lot of the day. I was moderately productive, but not enough. I have cleaned my room, however, in preparation for Phil's arrival later tonight. YAY. I think the bad start will get better from now on.

A picture I took that I like

portrait, originally uploaded by ekhornbeck.

A portrait, I suppose.