reluctant asian.

HAHAHAHAHA.

PRAY OUT THE ASIAN?

Edit: Hahah, I guess I should clarify that I found this on the internet. Newmarket is (hopefully) above this haha.

on fait rien. (mais pas vraiment)

it's just kind of felt that way lately. 

Our group's just gotten kind of lazy haha, now that we're in the big city with so many options.  (we're so backwards haha)  As they say, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it do a group activity.  I sort of paraphrased that, but you know, whatever. 

I think it feels like even less because I've stopped taken so many pictures.  This is no good!  I want lots of pictures of my Katima-adventure, so when I'm old, I can turn on my holographic, 3D, telepathically-controlled picture viewer and relive the glory days.

Here is 50% of the pictures I took during my 72 hours:


Yeah.  and the other 50% is Fred in front of it.

That's the Elliott Lake Katimahouse!  We were driving past it and decided to drop in.  Despite the possible creepiness, they gave us a house tour and one of the guys let me have his frilly pink bloomers!  (which you can sort of see in the picture)

Me and Fred tagged along with LA during 72, so we got to meet her famjam, stay in a house with 3 dogs and 4 cats  (you never wake up alone, hahaha), and eat a loooot of food.  And then her aunt sent us home with goodies we're still trying to finish, even a week later.  That is one sexy woman, I'm telling you.

this last weekend, we went to toronto.


The second tallest building in the world. Resenting Dubai a bit for taking away from my tourist moment. 

Essentially what we did that day was tour parts of downtown Toronto with a guy who used to be a homeless drug addict and he explained about homelessness and related things in Toronto.  It almost made me feel like I had street cred.  After that, we got changed, had dindin, and went to Roy Thompson Hall to listen to the TSO do Verdi's Requiem.  I love opera, oh man.  And it only cost us 12 dollars each!


Outside of the Hockey Hall of Fame, being cool.




In the skywalk.  We got free samples of Dove for Men!

peanut butter men.

I was house manager last week, and while making scalloped potatoes one day, I decided that I wanted to take the sticker off the oven door.  My grandma always puts peanut butter on to take stickers off, so I thought I'd try it.  Apparently I needed a creative outlet, haha.



 

And it worked, too!

bronchoconstriction.

Anyone who's ever seen me run/weightlift/do pilates with Mary Windsor  (...so, Marissa) can attest that while I may look largely pathetic and sweaty, I'm (most likely) not the least fit person out there.  Or at least, that is what I like to tell myself.  Therefore, I found it mildly strange that while putting on my socks Wednesday morning, I began to breathe heavily.  I had to rest in between sock # 3 and sock #4. 

When I finally got that last sock on and started walking to work with Fred, I felt that somehow, overnight, the route had become much steeper, and far longer.  Panting like a dog (which, obviously, is unhealthy, because where dogs have no sweat glands, and I, well, do have sweat glands), I did my best to keep up conversation, but I was becoming increasingly focused on the fact that my lungs seemed to have the capacity of a water balloon.  Had I gained 400 pounds without noticing, while everyone else was too polite/horrified to say anything?  I thought of asking Fred, but then remembered the politeness/horrification (that is quite possibly not a word) factor.

I thought it would quiet down once I got to work and sat in a comfy chair.  Not so.  I was still hyperventilating 10 minutes later.  This unsettled my bosses, so after cancelling my appointments for the day and calling the PC, I was whisked off to the walk-in clinic. 

Turns out I left my health card back in BC, so my boss had to pay for it.  Oops.  Katimavik should reimburse her though.  I think.

The doctor stuck things in various orifices (all above my shoulders, guys.), listened to my breathing (which had calmed down a fair bit by this point), and decided I was probably having an allergic reaction to ...something.  He prescribed me a puffer.  (I did't show it, but I was like 'YEAHHHHHH.'  Always wanted to try a puffer, but without asthma, it's hard)

The pharmacist's name was Khalid Butt (NOT KIDDING AT ALL.  I took one of his business cards on the sly as proof), and he was bald, with a long pointy beard.  I interpreted these things as a good omen.  At the register, he explained how to use the puffer, and answered some of my boss' questions, but all I could think was 'his last name is butt.  this is so cool.'

By 11-ish, I'd been dropped off at home with orders to rest, a reminder to inhale my drugs when I was supposed to, and Khalid Butt's business card.  Overall, I'd say it was a pretty good morning.

PS. I'm fine now, haha.

weed world, weed world, party time, excellent.

To state the utterly obvious: Newmarket is not Vanderhoof.

I can no longer walk in the middle of the road because there are actual cars on it (Fred does it anyway, but I'm not quite as badbum as she is). Fifteen minutes of leisurely walking only gets you to the main drag, and there is no 7/11. The replacements: non-franchise convenience marts. They carry weird magazines:

It was our first night in Newmarket, and after Nicole dropped the bomb that there was no sev in our area (oh, how my heart ached), she offered to guide us towards a 'mart'. With some trepidation, but also the conflicting desire to buy candy/vitamin water/magazines, we followed our new leader into the dark. (We all complained about the distance, our perceptions still skewed by the fact that Vanderhoof could have fit into Newmarket's left shirt pocket, haha)

When we fiiiinally arrived at 'CONVENIENT FOOD MART'(ooh, creative), I beelined it for the magazine rack (I've been trying to cut down on the amount of candy I buy haha). A title poking out from behind Maxim caught my eye.

WEED WORLD: THE MAGAZINE FOR MEDICINAL MARIJUANA USERS.

Yeah.

I reached up and pulled it out of the rack so I could look at it. The cover stories were:

Everyone Loves To Harvest!
Essential Med Grow Kit!
Can Cannabis Cure Cancer?
and
Grow Your Own Medicine Using Hydroponics!

Having always wanted to grow my own using hydroponics, I began flipping through it, (this drew Fred over as well; apparently hydroponics are a hot topic) but I was soon interrupted by the tall asian storeowner, who happened to be sporting an intense bowlcut.

Him: HEY. YOU AYTEEN?
In my surprise at having been hailed from across the store in a thick accent, I forgot how old I was.
Me: Uhh... uhm, no?
LA, Jazmin, and Fred: YES YOU ARE.
Me: Oh, uh, YEAH! YEAH I AM.
Not.  Suspicious.  At.  All.
Him, staring into my soul: You need be ayteen to read this magazine.
Me: I am, really, I am. I just... forgot...
It was becoming more and more difficult to talk as my foot shoved itself further into my mouth.
Me: I can show you some ID? 'Cause I really am eighteen, and I have--
Him: BRING HERE.
This guy didn't mess around.

I handed him my (expired) BC Driver's License and watched what I imagine was exquisite disappointment wash over his face as he read my birth date.

I'm not sure what made the magazine 18+, although there was a page with a picture of a woman in naught but her panties and thigh-high fishnets. Her nipples were covered by the guns she was holding. Kind of old school, classic woman. Like Audrey Hepburn, or something.

I ended up getting Glamour instead.

P.S. I didn't realize how many different types of marijuana plants there were! There were so many in that magazine, and with weird names too.  I guess I would know if I did drugs?

P.P.S. I have a sneaking suspicion that the magazine wasn't really targeted at medicinal users only, haha.

travel day[s]

leaving. (kind of.)
At 5 am, we packed up our stuff, cleaned up the camp, and loaded up the bus.  We got the the PG airport around 7, with our flight scheduled for 10-ish.  It turned out that our flight had been cancelled and the plane sent to Hawaii, and that the next flight wasn't until 4 PM.  This sounded cool, cause we'd get to hang out with the other groups a little more, especially the WL group, who was on the same flight as us up to Calgary, but that didn't work out either, haha.  There was only room for the WL group on the 4 o'clock flight, so we had to wait until the 7 am flight the next morning. 


Naturally, I was shocked.

Because of all the flight plan adjustments/confusion people in the group were getting pretty stressed out, but it all faded away as WestJet employees handed us hotel, food, and taxi vouchers.  We bid a tearful (well, not really) farewell to everybody, grabbed our stuff, realized that there wasn't room for everybody in the taxis that had arrived, waited, called another taxi, said goodbye again to a couple people who had come outside to wait for the taxi with us (now we know who our true friends are hahah), and drove off into the sunset sunrise. Which, incidentally, was really cool that morning:



Now, let me just say that I hereby swear allegiance to the flag of WestJet.  A ton of hotel rooms (we even had one extra! we went in it for about 30 minutes just so it didn't go unused). Something like $330 dollars to eat at Denny's. And the opportunity to be in a town with a bus system! The very thought tickles me immensely.  My day went like this:

Eat breakfast at Denny's.
Feel sad with LA about leaving everybody in our cluster.
Both of us leave early to feel sad in cushy hotel room.
Turn on nice hotel TV, sing along to Bad Romance on MMM.
Fall asleep in nice hotel bed.
Wake up.
Eat lunch at Denny's.
Go back to sleep.
Go swimming in nice hotel pool.
Feel too cold in nice hotel pool.
Switch to nice hotel steam room.
Sing Bad Romance in nice echo-y hotel steam room with the other girls.
Wonder how I ended up liking Lady Gaga so much.
Shrug.
Shower in nice hotel bathroom.
Take the bus to the movie theatre.
Buy huge food combo.
Watch Avatar.
Walk back to nice hotel.
Eat late dinner at Denny's.
Sleep.


Denver's first bus ride, I think.



Ooh, look, a Denny's fry.

the real travel day.



woke up, dragged luggage down stairs (no elevator haha), go to airport, fly.  Get to Vancouver, wait, fly.  Get to Toronto, get luggage, experience some confusion over how we are getting to Newmarket.  Get picked up by LIMO SHUTTLE BUS.  It was pretty fly.  The driver even stopped at Tim Horton's on the way.



Side note: on the flight to Toronto, I had to use the bathroom. (first airplane bathroom usage!)  I forgot to put my shoes back on beforehand, so when I stepped into the bathroom (slightly less than a square inch of floorspace), I stepped in some liquid, which soaked through my sock. I continue to pray that it was water.


The pictures I took inside the limo bus turned out really blurry, but I thought Denver might want to see this when he grows up.

we got to the Newmarket house at about 6pm, unpacked, chatted with our new PL, Nicole, for a bit (she read us the book 'Everyone Poos'.  I interpret this as a good omen), visited a 'mart', then went to bed.

And so I found myself on the other side of Canada, still sleeping on top of Jessica, but now sharing a room with LA as well.

rotating campers.

now, because of a preoccupation with more pertinent things (eating, sleeping, moving across canada, working on a "2000-piece" puzzle which, in fact, only contains 1998 pieces due to "technical issues"), I have not blogged in a long time. but I am going to catch up. oh yes.

so, rotation camp.

actually, first we had to leave tristan.




IS THAT NOT THE MOST DEPRESSING IMAGE EVER??  I took it with massive zoom from inside the bus, haha.  I miss him. D;

Anyway, we shoved all our stuff on the bus with the Quesnel and WL groups, sat down, and drove off as Scott put 300 into the DVD player.  That is one weird movie.  (At the same time though, I often wish I was a muscular man, walking around in naught but a loincloth, cape, and fierce patriotism.)  There was a slight confusion with the pick-up schedule, so we ended up driving to where the pilot thought Camp Friendship (yeah.  not joking about the name at all.) was, only to get lost and then realize we were supposed to pick up the Prince George group.  We drove back into PG, crammed yet another team into the vehicle, and then drove back out to get the camp.


Hahah, It looks like Ryan (the one eating Denver) is really muscular, but it's LA's hand.

I can't really remember what happened after we got there, other than the fact that we had dinner and that I was on top of Alex Wallace in the cabin bunks again, entirely unintentionally.  (but what can I say? you can't fight destiny.)  Some of the cabins, including ours, were heated by wood stove, so that made for some fun as we had to re-light the fire every time we came back to the cabin.  Eventually Maude, with all her skills, got it going for realz, and we were so warm that I got kind of sweaty in my sleeping bag that night haha.  Well done, Maude.

the day.


Notice Denver's drag queen-esque plumage.

In the morning, we did a 'Goodbye PL' activity, where we made collages/memory books/whatever to send to our PLs as a wistful memento of days gone by (I am a poet, y'all).  Our group did a big collage on a piece of chart paper, with a little addition on the side done by Anthony.  See, what happened was we wanted to put pictures on the collage of things that had to do with memories we had of Tristan, but Thony just wanted to cut out pictures of girls with big boobs, haha.  Now, as huge as Tristan's knockers were, not everyone wanted reminders of them on the collage, so he was given his own sheet of paper upon which to release his pent-up creative energy. This was working quite well until the end of the activity, when Amy told us that we had to have everything on the same collage, so we glued Thony's ode to breasts onto the edge of our big collage; a small, but provocative pimple on the side of our visual farewell.  Oh man, I love Katimavik.

The afternoon to late evening is a bit of a blur, but in that blur I can make out:
• the pinata party that took the life of one of the camp brooms
• teaching Jessica and Michael how to knit (Jessica got the hang of it, hahah)
• bumming almonds off of the regional representatives

the night.

After supper, we shuffled into the Fir Room (all through camp, I thought it was the FUR room, haha) for the final presentations of our final presentations.  William's Lake's was about 39 hours long, give or take; Quesnel brought a fancy-schmancy iMovie slideshow to the table; PG also had a loverly slideshow, and some excellent sock puppetry on the side; Vanderhoof started out a little shaky, with a lot of technical difficulties, but Jordan's singing and our video tour of downtown Hoofville and the Katimahouse went over pretty well. (especially the part where LA and I find a racy calendar in Tristan's room.  Anthony gave it to him for Christmas)

 I also told a joke to fill an awkward silence that occurred as the computers were choosing to be difficult:

A baby seal walks into a club.

Da-dum chh. 

(that was supposed to be drums, if it was unclear, haha)

After those were over, we had the pleasure of hearing about a newly created Katimavik policy!  Apparently, Sam was the first participant to ever sign his departure papers, board the plane, sit down, realize he didn't actually want to leave, run off the plane, and return in glory to his house--Katimavik had to create whole new rules for that situation.  So, FYI, if you progress to a point in your departure where Katimavik cannot recoup their Benjamins and then have a change of heart, you and yo' fine self have got to pay for the plane ticket.  So be sure.  Unfortunately, Sam left for real the next day. D; 


It looks like I have a unibrow, hahah.

Some people went to bed after that; some people stayed up.  I figured that since it was the last time I would see the cluster in a long time (or just the last time, in the case of WL), I would stay up, haha.  I learned some jiu jitsu from David, played my first game of poker, watched part of Role Models, then ended up talking to Wee in the bathroom (haha.  wee in the bathroom) until 4:30, when it was decided that we should each get 30 minutes of sleep before travelling.

Oddly, it is was really easy to wake up after only half an hour of sleep.  I did later experience the side effect of not being able to hold on to the broom as I tried to sweep the bathrooms (dropped it like 3 times haha), though.


You can't read Fred's poker face.

Oh, and a little bit more Vanderhoof:


We painted the dining room table in the Hoof! Each rotation gets a third of the table.


Close-up of my part.

and that's all for rotation camp!