self defense hurts

SUPER SORE. We went to PG on Sunday to hang out with the PG and Quesnel groups at a really crazy awesome self-defense workshop. It hurt to exist yesterday. Today, it just hurts when I move. Awesome.


Mik catching some Zs on the way to PG. He made me and Tom (us 3 were rocking the back of the van) laugh so hard later on in the ride:

Mik: Hey, Shoshana, I just noticed. This is like America, when black people had to sit in the back of the bus. Look, French (him), Japanese (me), and Mexican (Tom).
Me: Woah, good point.
Mik: And look who is driving. (pointing at Tristan) Blond hair, blue eyes.

HAHAHAH.


PGs salon was full to the maxxxxxx. And some people were downstairs, hahah.


OH YEAH. This is Anthony! Our newest and youngest group membaaaahh. He rocks.


Stretchin' OUUUTTTTTT.


Ryan and LA gettin' their freak on.


This is me looking unimposing.


Lion pose crew reunited.


AZN INVASION. Karina (newest PG recruit) doesn't look asian, but I think her soul is asian. BTW, in case it's unclear, we're spelling AZN with our hands.


QUEBECCC POWWEERRRRR.


After hanging at the Peej house for a while and planning the New Years' rendez-vous in the Hoof, we went to pick up Wendy at the airport, since she'd flown home earlier that week for funeral. The flight was delayed by about 45 min, so we had to kill time. I decided to expose myself in public. We were also rockin to Beach Boys on my ipod speakers (BOSS airport musique), and doing that thing where you jump and click your heels. I managed to do it properly about 7.234% of the time.

Full, full day. Everyone was pretty tired on the way home, and quite non-plussed when we realized that Jordan had lost his wallet in the A&W parking lot in PG, and we had to go back to get it, haha. That's Katimavik for you though!

Good weekends for you guys?

my boss won't let me come to work.

So, I guess I got the flu or something, therefore I stayed home yesterday 'cause I felt like a big pile of steaming, feverish poo with a headache and nausea, who happened to be wearing 400 layers. It was probably the most exciting day of my life:
Every few hours, I would get up, pee, drink buttloads more water, and go back to bed. Also, I cured cancer. But that's no big.

I feel much better today, albeit I ache all over. Anyway, I didn't think that muscle pain was contagious, so I phoned my boss to ask if I could come in to work. Shut. Me. Down. I suppose it's in the best interest of the residents, but I am SO BORED. Not entirely inclined to spend another day sleeping/half-drowning myself/having conversations with Tom--as... eye-opening as they were--about wiping phlegm on the back of bus seats and Two Girls, One Cup (which I haven't seen and neeeeevvvvvveeeerrrrr plan to).


The night before I got all diseased, we went to an open mike at a little pizza joint downtown. Pretty sweet. Jordan and Tom were rocking out with the other people there, while the rest of us ate stuff. I like eating stuff.


Also, WE HAVE NEIGE. And not that, play-with-your-emotions-and-make-you-think-it's-going-to-stay-but-no kind of snow. I think it's here to stay, and I'm stoked.



Huuuuu, also, I'd love some ideas for stuff I could do at open mike! So far we were thinking the Pokemon themesong, but that's just one thing. DROP A COMMENT, BROS.

multilingual card games.

Playing Go Fish:

(in which, apparently, you are supposed to take the leftover cards and make them into a 'lake', in which you may 'fish', instead of just leaving them in the regular, neatly stacked formation. This blew my mind. Also, the name 'Go Fish' makes a lot more sense now.)

Anyway. This was a good chance to practice simple french like: As-tu un six? And of course, vice versa for francophones...

Wendy: Shoshana, as-tu un valet?
Me: Non... Go fish. (my french still needs some work)
Wendy: Okay, Andreanne, your turn.
Andreanne: Shoshana... Have you an ass?
Me: ...Yes?

Turns out, she was trying to say 'ace'.

just a little excerpt.

Mikael was skyping his mum this evening, and I walked up behind him, and tried out one of my french pickup lines on her. (Tu me fait fondre comme du chocolat.) She, of course, didn't understand it until Mik said it with the correct pronunciation, but whatevs. Anyway, later in the kitchen, Mik was trying to tell me that his mom had recognized me from pictures on facebook:

Mik: So, then, when you--you came--you came on my back, my mother--
Tom: When she came on your back?
Mik: What?!
Me: Oh dear.

This is what comes of putting many teenagers in the same house. I feel kind of dirty, haha.

graveyard surpriser is a serial offender.

I thought you might like an update on Monsieur Deathstick.

They've been trying to find things to occupy him so his OCD doesn't take over, and he starts stealing mass amounts of furniture again. He used to really like walking and smoking, so they were getting him to go up and down the hallway while pushing a wheelchair to occupy his hands, rather than use a cigarette. It seemed to work really well for the first 15 minutes, but when my boss went to check on him, he had his little friend out, shooting a stream of all-too-familiar amber liquid onto the wall. After she'd gotten him back to his room, she went to mop up the mess. After mopping, she accidentally tipped the bucket over, spreading diluted plague juice all over the floor. I didn't know this until I started working at the Manor, but urine makes floors sticky. I walked right through that section of hallway, and my shoes made disturbing crackling sounds every time I lifted my shoes up for the next couple of minutes. Delish.

That was Tuesday. Today, he struck again. They had sent him down with the wheelchair to get a coffee in A Pod, when much to the amusement of one of the female residents who witnessed the travesty, "He just whipped it out and started going at it!". More mopping, but not by me. ;D He's just too quick.

In other news, there was a little bit of knife-brandishing going on today as well. It's actually kind of depressing, because it was the wife of a resident who has gone downhill really quickly in the last few days, and the staff are so busy that they haven't been able to start fully meeting all of the new needs he has, and the wife is mentally ill, but either way, she freaked out and started waving a knife around. Lucky for the nurses, it was a butterknife, but they always say it's the thought that counts.


It is so dark when I walk home now. It's even darker when I fail to read my watch correctly, think that it is 3:30 instead of 4:30, work for another hour and fifteen, and then realize my mistake. For the record, 45 minutes of unpaid accidental overtime is not something I want to make a habit of, especially when I have important things to do at home. Like eat, and check my Facebook page.

je suis une hunkess

Hunkess isn't an actual french mot; it's one of those security words you have to type in to comment. I just got it when I commented on one of Alex's posts. I'm thinking I'll start working it into regular conversation. But to make it official, let's write a dictionary definition for it:

hunkess [hungkISS]
–noun
1. Slang.
a. a beautiful woman with a well-developed physique. What a hunkess! I'd tap that.
b. a large or fat woman.What a hunkess! I would not tap that.

As you can see, there is a danger of people misunderstanding you, as with phat shorty, but I believe that as it becomes more widely used, people will begin to pick up on the subtle nuances of this word.

bridge over troubled waters

Hahah, Simon and Garfunkel reference for your mum.

Yesterday, when Robbie was at our house, he got us to do a visualization activity where we build a metaphorical bridge from where we are now to a point of our choice in the future. Sound cheesy? Well, it was, but I also found it interesting to do some introspection and see where I`m at, as it were. (and to see where my housemates felt they were, as well!)

My bridge isn't a bridge at all; it's a path of stepping stones dotting a lazy river. The river is quiet, a line of demarcation between the trees on either side. The sun is shining, casting a warm yellow-ish hue over everything it touches. With the sun come the inevitable shadows, darkening the scene here and there, but it is not a solemn thing: It is a reminder that the cheerful sunlight is always there, if you but crane your head to seek it out. The surrounding forest is lush and dense, and though you cannot see far enough to make them out, this river is not the first to have been crossed, nor will it be the last. And it does not matter. The joy is in crossing the water; hopping from stone to stone. Some are close together, and so moving on is simple. Others claim more effort, as they are smaller, taller, or farther away. These small challenges are all part of your journey; a journey you almost feel that you have made before, were it not for the gentle pangs of uncertainty felt as you negotiate the crossing. Were you to fall, it would not be painful, though perhaps the snap of the cool water would disrupt your calm for a moment. But you will not fall. This is where you are meant to be; each step a natural continuation of its predecessor, leading you onward. To where? Who knows.

Hahah, you can see why I only got a 5 in IB English. But really, I think my time in Katimavik will be awesome, if the last month has been any indication of what is to come. If you haven't heard the news already, we are getting a new participant this Monday! I am excited to see how he will fit into the group, and if it will change our dynamics at all. We, the seniors, are planning some light hazing (think creepy stroking of the face), so hopefully he's up to the challenge!

stuff I did in the last week

That title is soooo begging for a 'your mum' crack, but I'm exercising huge amounts of restraint right now.

Anyway, on to the main event!

House manager:

Every week, two sexy people stay home from work and do the cooking and cleaning for the group. Wendy and I were the lucky couple last week, and created mouth-watering temptations like the oh, so exotic PIZZA.


Plasma Car driver:

At home, we have this toy called a plasma car, and it's amazing. It's like those little cars you had when you were younger, where you propelled yourself by pulling the vehicle along with your feet, but BETTER. You turn the handlebars back and forth, propelling yourself through simple physics! However, they are not so simple that I would be able to explain them to you without an appeal to google, and that is far too demeaning. So, ask your mum, or something.


Epic Excursion to Prince George:


Photo cred: Jazmin. Notice me writing Alex's letter with extreme levels of concentration.

Last Saturday, we braved the cold waters of the highway to visit faraway Prince George, for a family fun-filled day of swimming, yoga, and shopping. Oh, but first, we got lost:


This is LA's back asking a policeman how to get to the pool. He gave us directions to place place we had google map'd, followed us there, and told us there was another pool. Dad phoned Jennica, and sure enough, we had to go there instead.

Pool was epic sauce! Robbie (our awesome PSL, who we said good bye to earlier today; he's going to be a PL elsewhere. miss him already!) and his adorable girlfriend came to the party as well. Lots of hot tubbing, short (REALLY SHORT) stints in the suffocating steam room, diving off the 5 meter board, and a tad bit of regular natation. I think I mentioned Mikael's resemblance to Rapunzel, and now I have photographic proof! Photo cred goes to Jazmin again.


MERMAID MAN. The hair flip enchanted us all. We got him to do it over and over, hahah.

After the Pool we went to the PG Katimavik House for lunch, then jetted off to yoga!

Super relaxing, but no Lion Pose! Marissa and my Katimavik group know about the Lion Pose, but here's a photo off google:


After that, we went to my mothership/Value Village!

Tom and I found the childrens' sunglasses quite intriguing.


We were pretty beat on the way home (notice me still writing Alex's letter). Photo stoled from Jazmin again.

Tell your mum I would have enjoyed it all so much more if she had been there. That said, life is good.

bowling with big spoons

Not that our made-with-love dinner of Chicken Caesar Salad and Yam & Potato fries wasn't epic on its own, but Wendy and I thought we'd kick things up a notch (BAM! Emeril reference for your mum) by having everyone eat with big serving utensils. I had it pretty easy with my spatula, while people like Andreanne and Jessica were challenged a bit more. By ice cream scoops and whisks (respectively).


Mmmmmm.


Tom had a spaghetti-mathinger.

After dinner, we went bowling! It was more of a challenge than normal, because not only did I have to pretend to have motor skills, but I had to write down scores manually on a sheet of paper, after doing the math IN MY HEAD. My cerebellum almost exploded with the exertion. Apparently I also had to hit the reset button after my turn to set up the lane for the next person, but I didn't figure that out until we were about to leave. (win) Anyway, I also saw the man I will one day marry, have children with, divorce messily, and extract alimony and child support from for years.


I apologize for the poor picture quality; my hands were shaking with passion, and I couldn't use flash without being too obvious.


AND GUESS WHAT. I WON THE FIVE PIN GAME WE PLAYED. PRETTY MUCH JACKED ABOUT THAT.

i love the internet.

nuff said.

today i etted buffalo.

Me and that tree had a bit of a falling out when it ruined my composition by being too tall. We're working through it.

Instead of going to work today, our group helped out for 12-ish hours at a sustainablility workshop/forum and dinner (or in mine and Wendy's case, instead of staying home to cook and clean, we did more intense cooking and cleaning somewhere else). It was fun for the first couple of hours, but by about 7:40 PM, the world could have a giant whole in its ozone layer, and hugely nasty landfills, and I wouldn't care. (oh wait)

Me and Mik had elected to do plate scraping, which I thought would be fun because of when I volunteered at a soup kitchen with my youth group, but when you're scraping plates for 60-something people having a 4 course dinner, plus the prep dishes, etc, it makes you vow never to eat again. And when I say that it makes you vow, I mean it makes me vow. For all of 5 seconds, but wiser men than I have said it's the thought that counts. We ended up washing and drying a lot of them too, which was n'importe quoi, except I managed to break two glasses without realizing, and when I did realize, I was too lazy to do anything about it. It didn't seem like a problem until I stopped washing dishes and other people took over. I remembered to tell Jessica, but when Tristan started washing, he seemed to find it unsettling that there was broken glass hidden in the cloudy dishwater, a proceeded to drain the industrial size sink to look for it. Lightweight.


This was where it all went down.

One of the things on the menu was teeny hors d'oeuvres-sized hamburgers made with buffalo meat. Tasted awesome, if you happened to be wondering. I guess it would have made more sense to take a picture of the actual finished product, but my brain only realizes these things afterwards. Screw you, hindsight.




Mains du viaaannnnndddddd.

I never really thought of culture shock applying to exercise equipment, but apparently they don't have elliptical trainers in France:


Anyway, I think the bottom line today is that people who work in the food service industry are masochistic, and I love them for all the work they do to make it easy for me to stuff my face. Huzzah. Also, put stacks of plates in the sink gently.


I mock that chair in my head whenever I look at this picture. I don't get out much.