If it had not already ocurred to you, almost-seven-year-olds are active and exhausting. Just playing with Sierra for half an hour at the park two nights ago made me sweaty and pooped. She refused to believe that I am too big to play on the kiddy jungle gym and as if to prove my point, when she had me go down the fire pole, I banged my head really hard on the overhead bar. It was very exciting, though, because she'd never gone down the fire pole herself and initially with some coaxing, I helped her and when her mother came to pick her up, she was able to show off her new trick and even did it all by herself.

When I was her age, I refused to go down the fire pole at my school's playground, but that was because it was twenty feet high and I had to lean way out to reach it. Playgrounds nowadays are pretty wimpy. They've reverted to what they were like in the 60s. My school had one of the first wood apparata in Toronto with three levels, a huge tube slide, two tire swings (I think they've since been banned because they're kind of dangerous - though I never remember anyone getting seriously hurt on one), and a whole plethora of other neat things. In this world of ever increasing desire to protect kids from the 'dangers' out there, playgrounds have returned to short open-air slides, canvas-seated swings (if you're lucky), fire poles that don't get higher than eight feet, and monkey bars that you'd have to be totally inept to fall out off. And I say that as a kid who took a MIGHTY fall from her school's monkey bars that required me to go to hospital.

Anyway, in the end, kids will still get hurt and over protective parents, school boards, and children's charity groups will freak out. If they could have their way, kids would all be put in sterile bubbles and rolled around on soft, grassy surfaces with no chance for interaction. I mean, come on, I managed to break my ankle at a baroque recorder practice. Children will always find a way to hurt themselves. Sure, maybe I'm saying this because I don't have kids and don't understand what a parent feels, but there is a level of over-protection that I hope I never reach. Touching the hot burner is part of growing up, folks.

Anyway, in other news, I went with Nick to the Democrats Abroad event last night at the Duke of York. The idea was that all the local Democrats were to get together to watch John Kerry's acceptance speach, only after two hours of talking, eating, drinking, and television watching, he still hadn't come on, so Nick and I left. Whatever. It was fun, even though I had to share the table with the Crabbiest ROM Volunteer ever. She's a condescending, irritating, self-righteous old woman who never has a pleasant word for the staff. Her husband was quite nice, however; if a little cowed.

Hanging out with Nick did provide me with one insight that I truly appreciate. We were talking about the US elections and how someone he knows is running as an independent Libertarian candidate and I mentioned that not a single self-proclaimed Libertarian that I knew was actually able to explain what a Libertarian is. I remarked that they're always trying to demonstrate themselves with that damnable quadrant diagram that is so facile an explanation that it says nothing at all about what a Libertarian actually believes in.

Nick's explanation is perfect for me, as a fairly literate individual: "A Libertarian is someone who's read too much Heinlein and is too timid to admit liking Ayn Rand." He further elaborated: "You know, they want to take a few 'good' people and colonise the moon, doing it the 'right' way from the beginning." Ahhh, Nick, finally a concept I understand.

I had a really super time at Kristina's wedding this past weekend.  The wedding was on Saturday and the weather could not have been more perfect - not terribly hot, gloriously sunny and it got nice and cool when everyone was up on the dance floor.  The wedding was held in the vicinity of my cottage, about an hour away, at a place called St. Hipolyte, near St. Jerome.    It's right in the midst of Montreal Cottage Country, so it's a heck of a lot more built up than I'm used to, or like, but the view of the lake was really gorgeous.  It's the family cottage of the groom and it was neat that some of the neighbours turned out to watch from various watercraft on the lake.  Neat.

Rick learned that it really is true, lots of people do know how to dance and we were seriously put to shame by all the old (and young) rug-cutting couples.  That said, he really loosened up and actually danced, with me and alone, to all sorts of music (with a heavy bias going to country).  I was, once again, disturbed by how I know so many of the lyrics to all those country tunes, it's not like I listen in the solitude of my room, or something.  In truth, the DJ played the perfect mix of music for the crowd in attendence and I think most people were pleased with the choices.

The food was really good and the DJ made each table choose a song in order to sing for our suppers.  The only rule was that each song had to have the word 'love' in it.  Ours was the first table to go so we chose I love rock 'n' roll.  Following each table's choice, the DJ then would play the selection as the table went up to get their food.  The table where the priest was seated thought they'd stumped the DJ with Jesus loves me (this I know) but he came right back at them with a version of the same song.  Typical, a country DJ would have music suitable for a bible camp.  *laugh*

I should probably mention the service, itself.  Kristina was dressed in a traditional, empire wasted gown, sleeveless with thin straps, and a scalloped, though tastefully short, train.  Her hair was loosely piled with a flower in it and all over curls.  Derek (the groom) had grown out his hair and what with his chubby cheeks he looked just like a hobbit.  Though, with the goatee, perhaps he looked like a hobbit who'd gotten lost and wandered onto the Black Pearl.  He wore a simple black tux and sandals.  It was great.  Kristina's bridesmaids were her best friend, Shannon, and her sister, Anna.  The flower girls were Anna's two daughters and Kristina's adorable two-year-old daughter, Emma.  The Priest gave a simple, moderate, and really nice service and with the exception of when little Emma wanted her daddy's arms, everything went really smoothly.

Many people were very happy to see Mom and me and for a lot of them, it had been since Leo's funeral a few years back that we'd seen each other last.  Leo, of course, was Kristina's grandfather, and something like a surrogate grandpa for me.  People got very drunk, but Kristina, ever mindful of the rampant alcoholism that runs through the hills of the Laurentiens, had organised shuttle buses that would take people from the venue to the hotel where a lot of people were smart enough to book rooms.  Needless to say, with all the alcohol freely flowing (there was a canoe full of beer, vodka coolers, and ice, as well as an open (donation-based) bar), people got very sentimental and started to tell me how wonderful my mother is and how long they'd known her and how it was great that I was so much like her. 

I know a compliment when I hear one.  :)

Anyway, other than the wedding, I spent a few days generally doing nothing and actually getting some sun.  I went canoing one evening and bonded with the beaver, and on one particularly hot afternoon, Rick and I enjoyed a very nice swim.  The water was warm and the sun was nice and hot to dry us off afterward.  The cats, including Willi, were having a very nice time.  Willi loves it up there.  She loves it the most when I am outside and readily accesible, so I suspect she's going to start to miss me quite soon.  We left her up there with Mom and the other cats.  Finally, renting the car was a good experience.  Discount more than made up for the shitty time I had with Thrifty.  The car, while not a Kia as it states on the webpage, did the job and we had a very easy and affordable trip. 

 

I can't believe how busy I've been and just how busy I will remain until I get to the cottage (which won't be all that relaxing, what with the wedding taking place and all). It hasn't been my favourite kind of busy, either, what with the stress of putting together a wedding outfit and being built the way I am. Anyway, it's all been settled, now, but man, do I ever dislike pressured clothes-shopping. Originally, I had figured a white knee-length skirt to contrast fancily with the black corset I bought, but upon consultation with "Mildred", I decided to opt for a black skirt with black and white striping from the knee to six inches lower. Neat. After much disappointment, Jacob saved me from having to go topless by having the perfect top; and on sale, even. Huzzah. Plus, I'll be able to wear it all again for another wedding in August.

Speaking of weddings, my dearest friend in the whole wide world has finally set a date for her wedding. This after being together for ten years and getting engaged back around Christmas. Yeesh. Anyway, it's set for the 15th of October, 2005. I love autumn weddings. Anyway, it's being held at the Rosedale Golf Club (about which my feelings are mixed) so it will have a lovely view of the ravine. They plan to have a high-noon wedding and then serve a late lunch rather than a dinner, which sounds really charming to me. All these weddings. I think I have a few months off, before I'm a bridesmaid in July of next year and, of course, maid of honour, at Tracy's in October.

I had so much other stuff that I'd meant to write about, deeper stuff. Stuff that engaged my brain. Oh well, another time.

This quiz says absolutely nothing about your personality. Take it!

I was swept with the most wonderful wave of nostalgia as I walked up the street to grab a coffee from the Second Cup.  It's hot and hazy out, kind of muggy, and there was a sort of gritty hot breeze blowing up the street.  I was assailed by the scent of hotdogs and suddenly I was ten years old again attending the YMCA's day-camp on Ward Island, fishing-bucket hat on my head and my sport shorts on backward.  I loved that summer camp.  I did so many interesting things and learned such neat stuff.  The same can be said for almost all my camp experiences, though; summer was a wonderful time when I was freed from my typecast role as the gawky, loser kid at school.  Suddenly I was transported to the long grasses on Snake Island, the rickety clubhouses where we changed into bathing suits for canoeing, the smell of burning weiners on the overnight campout...  It was a brief flash of memory, but a happy one.
On Wednesday and Thursday I was at "Union School" learning how to be a negotiator on my union's bargaining unit.  I kind of thought it would be dull as these things sometimes are, but it was really interesting and even fun.  We did many exercises and workshops to help develop strategy, to break down the negotiating process into manageable pieces, and to alleviate any anxiety we might have.  I'm a little disappointed that I might have to resign from the unit, though, as negotiating will certainly conflict with my schooling.  If it only takes one day a week every other week, I might be able to swing it.  That's something I need to figure out.  I hope that I can swing it, because it will be such an excellent opportunity to learn about the process and really come to understand all that goes into it.
This coming Thursday, Rick and I will be driving up to my cottage because my friend, Kristina, is finally getting married on that weekend.  Of course, Kris lives up near my cottage and she's my oldest friend, with whom I'm still friends, having bonded when we were still in diapers.  I believe we were introduced and seconds later we were sitting fully clothed in the wading pool on my cottage's deck.  Charming.  Anyway, she's marrying her long-time boyfriend and the father of their wonderful daughter.  More exciting news regarding coupling (I can't believe I just typed that) is that a friend of the family and his wife have a new baby !  This would be the man that, when I was a little girl, I wanted to marry.  So, I am now something of a quasi-aunt, which is pretty darn keen.  I must make a visit to their house in order to meet Baby Kai and welcome him into the world.  I'll see if I can do so on Sunday evening as they live fairly close to the museum.
Anyway, getting back to the wedding, we've rented a car from Discount for a very reasonable rate and we'll be packing up my cat, who will remain with Mom up there, and probably some of my art supplies (I'm working on the assumption I'll be back up there for a week in August).  We'll come back on the 27th - Rick's miffed since he was planning to get his license on that day, but I told him not to complain since he's been talking about doing it for over four years.  Then I reminded him that people do drive in Hawkesbury and he could probably get it while we're there.  I'm really looking forward to going, both to my cottage and to the wedding.  I'm bugged, however; by not having anything to wear.  I might have to sacrifice my day off tomorrow for dress shopping.  That ought to be depressing.  I'm hoping to find an inexpensive little number that I can dress down for this wedding, as it's informal, and that I can dress up for another friend's more formal wedding in August.  I know, it's a toughy.  I'm going to be optimistic, though.  Halfway through the summer as it is, hopefully I'll find something on sale. 
 

Last night, I went to the the Toronto Fiesta (St. Clair street party), not to be confused with the Summerlicious street festival happening at regular intervals on Yonge Street. It was a very welcome break from working on my signage commission. Rick came over and Derek joined us, which is pretty amazing since they haven't been known to get along in the past. Last night went very well and Rick even took the extra step and payed for us all at dinner - I think he was making up for past experiences. There was a lot of street entertainment that included Italian and Portugese singers and bands, as well as some jazz and funk bands, and we took in a very strange one-man puppetry act that included a puppet who danced with its feet on fire. It was fun, not the greatest, but uniquely entertaining. We went into Sushi Century for dinner and Derek and I enjoyed some of the best baklava (not from the Japanese restaurant) that we'd picked up from a stand on the street. All too soon I had to head home again and get back to work.

I've almost finished the sign. The lettering is esentially done, though I am thinking of highlighting the main heading "Scorcerer's Apprentice" as it's kind of dark and uninteresting. The fonts I've chosen reflect a sort of faux antique type of script to fit nicely with the theme of the Ontario Renaissance Festival. I've also surrounded the text with ivy. I was going to do more traditional scrollwork but the ... oooh, patron... pointed me to some links with ivy designs he liked. Anyway, the ivy is kind of pretty - prettier than I had intended for his sign, but it looks really nice. Rick was startled by just how nice it looks. It's real graphic art - from the days before computers. I set the letters down as stencils, I measured with measuring tape and eye-balled the rest. Having a light projector would have been useful as stencilling is kind of labour intensive. Also, a drafting table would be useful, too, so I don't have to hunch over stuff. Even setting the board up on my little table-top easle didn't allay the hunching.

Today, at the ROM, it is really quiet. So many things are happening around town that almost all the people coming in are tourists and those are few and far between. I went outside for my breaks and sat myself down in the sun. It's such a shame that I'm working almost every day because I can't take advantage of the marvelous weather. It has only just gotten hot, but it's not humid yet and I'm really loving it. Even yesterday when I was able to be home working on the sign, and I was doing it outside on my porch, I still didn't get any sun because the porch has a roof. But it was nice to be outside, working, listening to the CBC on my little portable radio, nonetheless. My next day off - and this time it's a real day off, with no work planned for it - is on Tuesday. I don't know what I plan to do, but I plan to do it outside if the weather is nice.

Speaking of nice weather, sometime soon, I have to hie me to High Park for As You Like It. I haven't ever seen that play, though I read it a number of years ago. Maybe Friday. I will look into it.

I get the feeling that I have some sort of house fairy who is set upon mussing things up and discombobulating my life. Now, I am not referring to the cats, as they have similar habits (we call it "helping"), I mean an invisible something or other that has but one desire - chaos. Generally speaking, this isn't a problem as I lead a life that must be satisfyingly chaotic for the little bugger, but what with my very 9-5 existence of late and how little time I spend hanging around at home (and I don't mean when I'm asleep), this is obviously too much. So, no matter how I seem to set my alarms for the morning, something messes me up. This morning, my clock did not go off and neither did my stereo. My stereo goes off -every- morning. So, I woke up when a colleague called me asking if I was planning on coming into work today. Of course, said I, confused as to why she'd be phoning. Duh. When I hung up, it hit me and I glanced at my stereo. It was flashing *7:10* every other second and I realised that the fuse or switchbreaker had gone... again. This is the third time in less than two weeks that the power has failed in the five minutes before my stereo was set to go off. While I could continue to blame my pleasant, but slightly inept landladies, I feel that it's hard to accept three outages like that so close together. Besides, it's neat to imagine that I have a house elf of some sort. I'd leave it some treats if the cats could be relied upon not to eat them. One can never rely on a cat.

With school looming on the end-of-August horizon, I have found myself daydreaming about my future. I've pretty well spent the last two years thinking no further ahead than a week or two, especially this past year. Living hand-to-mouth really cuts into plans for the future as it is incredibly difficult to imagine a time when you won't be poor and could actually afford things such as an education (or even paying rent on time). It's nice to have something to work toward again. Back in highschool, I was working toward getting into university. Then, in university, I was working toward a degree (though, mostly toward getting OUT of university again). I like having goals. Granted, I'm not always very good at finishing the things I start, and I have been known to screw myself with a deep-rooted sense of failure, but now that I've lived hand-to-mouth and generally devoid of purpose, I think it's safe to say I WANT to go back to school. I WANT to have plans for my future.

So that rambling paragraph is really to introduce my new understanding of self. Right? Sure. I've felt that things have turned around for me. The changes haven't been on a grand scale, but they have been very positive and have really reminded me of the possibilities I have open to me. Working in Eternal Egypt was one of the best jobs, most fulfilling jobs I've ever had. It was brief and the hours were not very long, but it was almost entirely an exciting learning experience. It reminded me that I like to learn. It highlighted that I learn best when it's experiential and when I get to confirm it by imparting that knowledge onto others. Working at the ROM, I see the plans for its future and I cringe. I can look back and know what worked in the past and have a pretty solid idea of how to make things work once again. It took a lot of waffling in the Arts for me to finally decide where I'd like to go, but I think I've figured it out. I've moved through interests that ranged quite broadly, but in the end, I always end up trying to point them to the Arts. Well, duh. It's hard to apply art history to horses. Let's look at these interests - Archaeology (specifically Egypt, Greco-Roman, western historical... the very arty of the field), Art History (enough said), computer animation (for game and film ART), illustration, antiques, auctions, galleries and museums... Need I go on?

Right, so what do I want to do with myself (considering my dream of being an Olympic Equestrian has been put on indefinite hold)? I would like to make museums and galleries, public arts institutions, if you will, accessible to everyone. Theoretically, they usually consider themselves accessible, but often this idea doesn't go past wheelchair ramps. Then there is the problem of museums dumbing themselves down in the erroneous idea that this will make their institution more accessible to the masses. My desire is to work as a consultant in the museum field where I can help the different institutions structure their exhibits (travelling, rotating, permanent, hands-on, etc.) to engage all different types of audiences without appealing to the lowest common denominator. It's lofty, I know, but there is not only a niche that should be filled, many museums are in desperate need of sensible restructuring, not to name names... I have my eye on the education I will need to attain in order to reach this goal and I think I have a good idea of the steps that I'll need to take. It's exciting. It's like being on the cusp of something...

Cuspy.

Today it is cloudy and muggy and the sky threatens to repeat last night's stormy performance. "Did you wake up last night?" was the question most asked this morning in regard to the thunder and lightning that blasted through Toronto. I was awake as the storm began, the rumbling at first distant. The thing about me is that I really enjoy storms. I fell soundly asleep as it gathered strength and when my colleagues were being woken up, I was blissfully unaware. I imagine that this opposite response must stem from my childhood memories of my cottage and New York. The first because the storms were so dramatic and exciting and my cottage was so cozy and apparently safe; the second because of the wild colours the lightning used to flash, thanks to the strange light and particulate pollution in the air over New York. Even though I have very little memory of thunder scaring me, it must have. It scares all young children for a while.

I had an eventful weekend, sort of, at Toronto Trek. I was there working for Nicole who was down East. Our fear that her groupies (the ones who only ever want to speak to her, get measured by her, or give their money to her) would refuse to do business with me were somewhat alleviated as after initial disappointment, they latched themselves to me like they were some large, humanoid lamprey. For Nicole, the show was very bad. Sales were well below average, but I got the feeling that attendence was down, too. For me, on the other hand, the convention was quite exciting. My teeshirts were a great hit and I scored a wee contract to provide a dozen of them to the Hairy Tarantula, one of Toronto's better loved gaming shops. I also could net a contract to provide shirts to a huge group of fen so that they can wear them down at a big convention in Georgia. If that one goes through, I won't have a choice but to have them printed professionally. Beyond this, there is also a possibility that I'll be doing some wedding invitations for friends of Nicole. We shall see. Nothing is for sure except the deal with the Tarantula.

I spent last night working on Zoltan the Adequate's sign for the Renaissance Faire. I sealed the wood so it's now ready for painting and I have enough sealer left over (plus a different kind, as well) for when I'm finished. I started playing with fonts in PhotoShop and have settled on a very nice design for the main text. Tonight, I will set up the smaller text. Rather than free-hand all the writing onto the wood, I'm going to make stencils to apply so that I don't muss up the proportions. I don't want to lay out a grid because I'm not sure if I'll be able to erase the guidelines when I'm done. Anyway, it's all an exercise in creativity and I am confident that I will have it finished, at latest, on Sunday.