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.

On not having enough time:

I have not, in fact, dropped off the face of the planet. I know that some people might dispute this as there has been virtually no proof of my existence at all. Let me assure you, gentle reader, that I am here, moving through life, on this very plane of existence. Now, if I look back over my schedule since returning from New York I can see that I've been very busy. While there were a couple of days off at my disposal, they were disposed of in a very tedious manner; generally speaking, at work. The work might have been more enjoyable than my other work, but still work. There was also a sick day in there, but it, too, was spent working. Include in this twelve hours of volunteering for my NDP candidate, and the other work that I did upon arriving home from, you guessed it, work, and you have a very full schedule. And a somewhat confusing paragraph.

Now, look ahead through my coming month and you will find that although my work for the candidate is finished, there are contracts that need completing (in the VERY near future), and not a single day off until the 13th of July. Sure, this coming weekend, while not actually working at the ROM, I'll be working at a tradeshow (read: Toronto Trek sci-fi convention), and that's a lot of work that requires me to be on the ball all day, every day. Okay, to be fair, one day after the tradeshow, I'll not be working, I'll be driving between Toronto and Peterborough and (you guessed it) working on contracts. Heh.

Hopefully, this explains my lack of posts and/or social activity. There is a wedding I must attend in Quebec near the end of the month so I will have a few days off (thankfully), but honestly, I have no idea when I'll get a real chance to visit my cottage this year. I hope I will before I go back to school, but there's no guarantee, considering all the schedules that need balancing this summer. I must say that it is very different working in Visitor Services than it was in Membership. In the latter, I could pretty much walk into my manager's office and say that I wanted such-and-such days off and it would be done. This job is quite a bit more 'real world' than the other was, though. I'll eventually get used to it. In the meantime, I'm trying to determine my schedule for August. It's going to have to revolve around moving house and other non-ROM-related work.

This leads me to my options surrounding my return to school. Hopefully, there will be some flexibility that will allow me to commute from Peterborough every other weekend, or so, to work, but won't require my being at the museum every Saturday and Sunday. There is precedence for this flexibility, but if not, I have the option of requesting Educational Leave. Again, there is quite a bit of precedence for this being accepted. If not, well, that is a whole different kettle of fish. Or bucket of eels. Whichever.

Lately, I've been suffering from intermittent stomach pain of the sort I have had after the food poisoning has gone but the muscles are still in spasm. The problem is, I haven't had food poisoning or even been sick in any sort of way relating to my digestive system. Sometimes it happens after I've eaten, as though my stomach's not sure it can handle the food, but sometimes it gives a twinge out of nowhere for no apparent reason. I wonder what an ulcer feels like.

Before I go to work, I have to go to Shoppers' Drug Mart to pick up my incredibly expensive medication. This will effectively clean me out. On top of this, Mom is giving me money to cover the interest on my student loan I've built up over the last few months. It's frustrating that all this comes just before my rent is due, when my next paycheque is going to be small. I had hoped to get down to Curry's (artist supply super store) to pick up some Prismacolour colour markers that are on sale for HALF price as well as some supplies for the contract I picked up for a wooden sign I'm painting. That contract isn't going to net me a ton of money, unfortunately, but it's got some cache being for the geek magician from the Renaissance Fest. If anyone wants to donate to my cause, you can purchase stuff from my store and that would be very appreciated. ;)

Also, I'll be selling some teeshirts at Toronto Trek this year. I've been screwed by the Art Show whose organisers forgot (yet again) to send me my artist package and when I enquired, I was told there was only a half-panel available for me to show my art and NO table space. Ask me if I'm impressed. I'll be working the Nocturnalia booth for Nicole, this year, since she's helping to move her parents to PEI. It's not a great loss, then that I won't have art show space, because I'll be paid for my efforts anyway. Right, but I was talking about teeshirts. I went to my friend's apartment yesterday and we screened some shirts. I'm very pleased with the results and hopefully they will sell well. I'm still not sure how much to sell them for.

Anyway, I'm sure you've had enough of my ramblings. I'm going to do a very small wash of laundry in the sink/bathtub now and hang them outside on the drying rack. This will stave off my imminent panty deficit.

I am cross-posting this from my livejournal, Me and Other Things, because it is worth mentioning twice:

I ran into an old friend on the subway. He's a musician and he used to front a band I loved with all my heart. Anyway, he looked great and we chatted a bit. He gave me his new CD, which I am now listening to (it's pretty good) and we re-aquainted ourselves and whatnot. Not that he'll be easy to reach for the next while as he is walking across Canada playing gigs at each stop to raise money for cancer research. The album is a solo project and so is the trek. Read about it here.

I was invited to his show last night, but the person who invited me left out the fact that all the money goes to raise funds... I would have actually made an effort to get Rick and myself out to the show. Anyway, he and I haven't been in touch much in the last three years, but I have to say, I'm really proud of him and what he's doing. I was concerned for him when we lost touch; living the 'rock and roll' lifestyle was beginning to take its toll. I wish him well and hopefully I will get a chance to see him perform at another time.

Good luck, Simeon !

I've been back in Toronto now for a few days and am back to my old routine. This is not a terribly interesting fact, especially since my routine is pretty boring. Rick was over last night, which was fun. I don't often miss people when I go away, or when they go away; I miss my cat and my bed, but people less so. I had one night when I really wished Rick was with me in New York, but that was it. Last night, however; I realised that a part of me had missed him quite a bit and I was very happy to spend time with him. What's happened to me?

Tonight, I'm supposed to be meeting with a potential client that was referred to me by Nicole. He's a friend of hers and he works at the Renaissance Faire among other places. Some of you might be familiar with his stage name, Zoltan the Adequate. He seems like a very fun guy and he needs a sign painted and I'm available and interested in doing it. I keep checking my email in the hopes of hammering out the details for tonight's meeting, but so far, no message. Anyway, I'm not sweating it, we'll get together eventually. There's not quite a month before he needs it.

In a similar vein, I really must start getting some stuff together for Toronto Trek. As usual, the people running the Art Show haven't gotten back to me with the control sheets, and when I spoke to my friend Maery, with whom I'm sharing a hotel room, she had her forms but couldn't actually get them to open on her computer. Yeesh. I'll be working the convention on behalf of Nicole who has to help her parents move down East. She'll be paying me to be there and on the Saturday I'll have her assistant to help out. Now that the attendees to TTrek have gotten to know me as Nicole's minion, I might actually make some sales for her.

I have big plans for this year's convention, too. Not only will I have my typical art show stuff, but I'm planning to have tee-shirts featuring my artwork ! I was planning to do it via printer transfer sheets and an iron, but I just discovered that my friend, Mel, has a silk-screener ! So now we have a date for next Thursday. I'll take a walk down to China Town on Monday to buy cheap tee-shirts and then I'll be a go. Well, that and I have to pick out which images I want to use. I am sort of thinking Nine-Fingered Frodo and maybe my creepy twins, but perhaps I'll come up with something brand new. Suggestions are appreciated.

I never did find a cyber cafe near to where I was staying in New York, though in all honesty, I didn't look terribly hard. I had a nice trip. It felt a little unstructured, which isn't a bad thing, but a lot of the things I'd expected to do with Mom didn't happen because, of course, she ended up not going. It was a very nice visit, though, and I saw people I hadn't seen for a while and went to places I hadn't been before.

On the advice of a friend at the ROM, I went down to Chelsea, and really, other than housing a significant number of aging gay men with small dogs and a fair number of interior design shops, there wasn't a whole lot going on. I suspect my friend got Chelsea confused with Soho. I didn't actually make it to Soho, even, as I found other things to do. I did more fully explore the Upper West Side and the streets near to where I was staying, this time, venturing off of Broadway in order to explore Amsterdam and Columbus. I also didn't make it out to any clubs or plays, even though me and my host had discussed the idea of going to a show. Not having any contacts my own age kind of cuts into one's desire to experiment with the clubs and whatnot.

One thing that was very neat was that I returned to my old neighbourhood, Sheepshead Bay, for the first time in twenty years. I went specifically to visit my late nana and zaida's best friends, Willy and Shirley, but also to see the streets I remember so fondly. When I climbed out of the subway, I was struck with olfactory nostalgia - the neighbourhood smells exactly how I remember it: like the ocean, a bit dirty, and full of cooking scents. I took photographs of my old house and street and was pleased to see how big the trees had become. I wandered through the park where I used to play and more than anything, it was there where I felt the most nostalgic. Willy and Shirley are old now; somehow the same even though the years have marked them. Willy is half blind but as kind as I remember and, now that I'm an adult, I realise he's perceptive, intelligent, and wise. Shirley is tiny - five foot nothing at the most - and has all the powers of persuasion a Jewish great-grandmother should have. Brooklyn pizza is still the best in the world and therefore I was to eat it ("Have another slice, Mayala, we ordered it for you...") until Shirley had deemed I'd eaten enough.

Eating was something I did a lot of. Despite my, um, zoftic curves, the prevailing attitude was that I should eat heartily at every meal. This is not how I usually eat. I tend toward one meaningful meal a day, but everyone made sure I couldn't possibly starve. And most frustratingly, no one let me pay. I managed, in a week of eating, to pay for only two, maybe three, meals. And every single one was either delivery or at a restaurant. I started to order salads simply to cut down on the heaviness and to get some decent fiber into my diet. The best food was had at three particular restaurants, excluding the awesome pizza Shirley ordered: E.J.'s Luncheonette, French Roast (my favourite by far) and, River Thai & Vietnamese.

Unfortunately, I spent the entire vacation suffering from larengitis, or something like it, so I was coughing chronically, alternating between losing my voice and sounding like I'd been smoking for forty years, and blowing god-awful stuff out of my nose. I spent the Tuesday pretty much in bed all day until dinner time when I finally got up and decided I was going to take a walk if it killed me. Alfred joined me and we walked to Riverside Park and far down the humber, pausing ocassionally to sit on a bench in the sun or wander down a pier. We found a charming waterside cafe and enjoyed a refreshing dinner as the sun sank below New Jersey before heading back up the boardwalk and home again.

On the one grossly humid day we had, I walked (yes, walked - ugh) to the American Museum of Natural History knowing full well that it would be extremely air-conditioned. This was my favourite museum when I was little and it's still pretty neat. I took in the special exhibition about the lost city of Petra, which was very interesting and made good use of both video and written information. I also got to see the model of the giant squid hanging from the ceiling in the biodiversity section - a creature that has dominated my memory of the museum for most of my life. It's not as big as it seemed when I was five, but it's still pretty impressive. I also went to the Whitney Museum with Alfred, and that was pretty interesting, though not as much fun as when we went to the Met back in October. The museum highlight was definitely the Brooklyn Museum of Art. I visited that one with my mother's friend, Suzanne, who lives very near to it, and was very impressed. It is large and spacious and houses some very fine collections of world art. Mostly, I focused on the African and Oceanic art as we lack any notworthy displays of such here in Toronto. I found it very interesting that the Brooklyn Museum has just undergone a substantial renovation that involves both glass and steel, but unlike what's going to happen at the ROM, this museum's managed to blend it perfectly with its classically inspired facade. Gorgeous.

Anyway, I could go on at some length still, but my fingers hurt. I am out of practice, or something, and I've already been typing now for about half-an-hour. Suffice it to say that I had a very nice time in New York and hope that I'll get back there in the not too distant future.

I'm leaving on the bus for New York in just over an hour. I'm actually really nervous. I usually get excited before a trip, but tonight, I'm thinking it is as much anxiety as excitement. I don't know why, I've made the trip a bizillion times before. Have a wonderful week.

"This is the end / there ain't no more" as various camps songs say, "unless I meet that..." Well, in this case it's not a bear, goat, or train - I'm talking about Eternal Egypt. Tomorrow, the fat lady will sing, so to speak, but I won't be around to see it as I'll be riding a Greyhound to New York (hooray !). I'm working in the phone dungeon in the Visitor Services office right now and mostly the phone has been ringing steadily. Not necessarily 'off the hook' at all times, but damn near it for somewhat extended periods. We're up to 200 phonecalls, which isn't a record by any stretch, but when 92% of the calls are basically the same three questions ("Are there any tickets left?" "Can I purchase my tickets on the phone with you?" "Where are you located?"), it might as well be a thousand calls.

Rick is in the museum right now, moving through the Egypt show. He never quite managed to pick a time when I'd be able to give him the tour, what with our two schedules, so he's stuck with the last minute crowds. Joane called me down here in the dungeon to tell me that she saw him and and his lovely short hair and that it looked very good. I was just telling him last night that all the ladies think he's cute now. Even Joane. *laugh* Well, it's true. Anyway, I said my goodbyes to the exhibition yesterday. It was my last day doing the tours and it was pretty melancholic. Most of the interpreters were subdued and we all moved through the show saying our private farewells to our favourite pieces. We gave our best for the groups yesterday, trying to fit in all the best information we could. The class that went through last got one of the best tours we could have given them.

On the one hand, I had become pretty tired of a lot of the students. I had grown tired of telling them to be quiet and acting like their teacher or parent, but on the other hand, there were so many great kids with so many wonderful questions, I doubt I could get tired of them. Even yesterday, I was amazed at the wonderful way that some kids express their ideas. One grade five boy, when I was explaining how the creator god, Khnum, creates two identical statues of each human, suggested that the reason for this was so that the two could 'exist in two worlds'. After a moment of encouragement, he developed this idea into a picture that I realised was meant as 'this world' and the 'next world', or the Afterlife. And he would be right. That was a nice moment to savour on the last day.

Tonight I have to head down to Queen Street in order to pick up my excellent custom shirt as done by Nicole. I'm paid up, had it fitted to me yesterday, and I'm very excited. I wanted it for New York, even if I don't get a chance to wear it. I have a lot of packing and organising to do tonight as my bus will go tomorrow in the evening. I had planned to take the earlier bus at 12:30, but honestly, that one arrives after midnight and I'd rather battle the rushhour crowds in the New York subway on Monday morning than arrive in the middle of the night. I can sleep on the bus and get most of a day's activity in on Monday providing I get a bit of a nap. Besides, Alfred, with whom I'm staying, is a morning person, not a night person. This means that I can probably manage to see Harry Potter: Prisoner of Azkeban with everyone for Stew's birthday, afterall. That should make him very happy. It won't cut my time in New York short, either, as I just swapped a shift with someone at work that gives me an extra day at the end of my holiday. Yay !

My goodness, I hadn't the time for excitement previously, especially since Mom gave me the news that she wouldn't be able to come due to Real Life and I was really looking forward to travelling with her. My mother is the BEST travelling companion. We share interests in just about everything, and since she knows New York like the back of her hand, it would have been fun to poke around in her old haunts. However, I'm going to check out a couple places I've never been before, like all the galleries in Chelsea and maybe a couple of other places in Manhattan that I've never been. Also, I'm going to visit old friends of the family in Sheepshead Bay (my old neighbourhood in Brooklyn) whom we have not seen in something like two decades. That will be wild. I haven't been back to that area since I was nearly seven years old for my Zaida's funeral. Maybe I'll even take a walk down the old street.

Now, looking at my watch, I see that my day is drawing to a close so I really should post this and get on with things. Current phone tally is now over 220. Lots of people are now disappointed because we've been sold out for over half an hour. It is not my fault that they left it to the last weekend of the show. I am now looking forward to going for dinner with Rick. Oh yes, a quiet evening is most welcome.

I am pleased to announce that I have new pants. This is not a trivial matter as I am not exactly Madame Average. Unless you mean average height of a man. I am too fat for fashion, but not quite a plus size, too tall for normal women's clothing, too short for the tall shop. I spent a lot of time roaming around the Eaton Centre looking for pants that fit. As I am leaving for New York, I thought it would be a good idea to have a pair of jeans withOUT the split inseams. I finally had success at Bluenotes. I'd been told to go to Old Navy - the chain with the HORRIBLE commercials that made me swear I'd never set foot in one. Today, I did, but after about five steps, I stopped, looked around at the horrible plastic people doing their shopping, turned around and headed right out. On my journey to find pants (how middle class is that?) I met lots of very helpful salesgirls and a couple not-so-helpful salesgirls. In the end, I am pleased with my purchase and I know where to go for jeans in the future.

The Eaton Centre is under construction. I don't really know how I feel about this. The Eaton Centre is in architecture texts and they're completely rebuilding it's lovely glass facade. It's lovely EX-facade. Of course, the whole neighbourhood is undergoing renovations and has been for several years since someone thought that evicting a whole lot of little businesses and putting a hole in the ground would make Yonge Street more up-scale. So, now, every block is under siege, but rather than men in helmets, cannons and food shortages, there are men in helmets driving diggers and dozers. I was afforeded a wonderful view of the massive pit that abuts College Park. There were so many people peering through the little wholes in the barricade, everyone representing the multi-everything that is this city, all totally fascinated. The most interesting moment came when the digger was patting the bedrock down into the back of a dumptruck. This massive piece of machinery did so with such gentleness that it looked like a caress. It was so neat.

In other news, there are two more days remaining of Eternal Egypt school tours. It's getting harder to push through the spiels, I have to say, not because of boredom but rather my own desire to enjoy these last days. Sadly, yesterday I spent all too much time acting as a disciplinarian, separating badly behaved children and reprimanding their behaviour. This is not my job. Shame on the teachers and parents that accompany these groups and take no responsibility. It was a little better today, but I really hope it picks up tomorrow and Friday because I would like to go out on a high note. This has been the most rewarding job I've had since the first summer I worked for the Ontario Government. That's saying a lot. Who knows, maybe working on the OPSEU bargaining unit in the up-coming round of negotiations will be even more rewarding. Even if it's in a different sort of way. Probably not, though. All said, Eternal Egypt is exhausting, and going away to New York will be VERY refreshing; nice change of pace.

Before I settle down to play some Baldur's Gate 2 on this quiet Friday evening, I thought I had better relate some of the interesting events of the past week. If I don't do it now, I might never do it. Of course, this time last week, I was at Anime North. Normally, when I go to conventions it is as a vendor working for Nicole and as an artist. I have to say that it's really nice to get away from that once in a while and just attend a convention for the sake of attending. Anime isn't my principle fandom, as most of you will know, but I have enjoyed it for years and I love seeing all those people dressed up as characters. Some of the costumes display the most amazing creativity even if they don't entirely succeed.

It all began with the rather lengthy bus ride out to the Airport. Somewhat inconveniently, because the old venue was condemned, this year's convention was held at two locations: the Toronto Congress Centre and the Renaissance Hotel. I have to admit, I didn't even make it to the hotel. The things I was most interested in were occuring at the Congress Centre, including the art show, Artists' Alley (where all the artists do commissions and sell stuff), the Dealers' Room, Masquerade, and workshops and participatory programming. One highlight was attending the traditional Japanese art workshop held by Nobuyuki Ohnishi. His prefered style of art is the traditional monochromatic (single colour) ink wash technique called sumi-e. He talked about the differences between Eastern art and Western art and gave a demonstration to illustrate these differences and then we went and examined his artwork that he had on display in the art room. His English was a little fractured and the noise level in the main hall of the Congress Centre made it very hard to hear what he was saying, but we (his keen little students) got the hang of what he was saying. And, of course, he took photos of us and we took photos of him.

On the Saturday, I met up with Techknight and we spent most of the day wandering around the Congress Centre enjoying the myriad of costumes and all the other sights and sounds that an anime convention affords. You can read his highlights here as they sum up the Masquerade very nicely. I didn't spend too much money on anything, a fact that I am fairly proud of. I had wanted to pick up some of the Copic markers, but they're just too expensive for a trial run. I'll ask for them at Christmas, or something, so that a whole lot of people can chip in to purchase them. They're really friggin' expensive. I did buy some art of a fellow Elfwood artist and a pair of chopsticks that are simply too nice for my mother to tie plants to, though I'm sure she would, given the chance. I also picked up the OCAD student comic compilation from two students involved in its creation, development and publication and one cheap print. That's one of my favourite things to do, chat with the artists.

In other news, I helped my friend Megan move on Sunday. That was a somewhat painful experience as the building she was moving out of is NOT WELL DESIGNED. It's awful. At one point I was wandering around the fourth and fifth floors with a pair of handtrucks for what seemed like hours, trying to find the elevator that would take me down to the lobby. Opportunity provided us with a rope that enabled us to tie her mattress and boxspring to the van and though some might call taking it 'stealing' it was made up for by the fact that of all Megan's friends, I was the only one to show up after promising to help.

Otherwise, the week has pretty well flown by. There is only one more week of Eternal Egypt and I realise that when it's over, I'm going to miss working as a schoolgroup educator desperately ! I might not have believed it at the start, but I have derived so much satisfaction from this job that I wish it would go on forever. I've developed a bond with many of my co-workers and I will endeavour to stay in touch with them. I've even bonded to several of the pieces in the exhibition. One day, I will have to go to the British Museum to visit them again. Senwosret and "Monty", the beautiful bald priest, little Princess Nefurure on her tutor's knee, and of course all those wacky kings at the end of the 18th Dynasty. I went into the exhibit thinking I knew a pretty fair amount about Egypt, but now, coming out at the other end, I realise I know much more than ever before, and I've only bumped the tip of the iceberg.

Democrats Abroad was a really neat experience. Firstly, let me say that these people are a very interesting mix. There were some who had been here for a long time and had held fast to their American roots, their accents remaining intact after years of living in the Toronto area. There were others who had allowed for the "silent take-over", the passive acceptance that Canada would rub off on them. One couple had been here for thirty five years and too look at them you would never guess that they were from south of the border. They dressed in muted colours, in low-key styles - very North Toronto/Lawrence Park. They had even been granted dual citizenship, but there remained that little part of them that wasn't ready to relinquish their roots, thus they continued to vote in US elections with no intention of ever moving back. There were people who had arrived for work in Canada, people who's families had moved (like me), people who had dodged the draft... it was, like I said, an interesting group of people and generally, well spoken and intellectual. Neat. It was a fun time and I'll certainly go back in June.

Also, my application for an absentee ballot has been filled out, stamped and is sitting beneath the Rentwraith in the hall. I had meant to mail it yesterday, and then today, but oversleeping both days can really put a cramp in ones intentions - especially when one is scrambling out of bed at the approximate time one should be booting up and heading out the door. *ahem* It was so bad today that I had to waste money on a taxi.

In order that I will wake up tomorrow nice and refreshed (and on time), I did not go home after work for a nap. I knew that no matter what else I did, I would end up napping and that would keep me up much too late into the night. No good. So, having walked down Philosphers' Walk behind the ROM and through UofT to Spadina, with no further plan in my head, I hopped on the streetcar and rode down to Queen Street. At this point, I turned east and climbed the stairs up to my friend Nicole's store. Here, I was offered a chair and conversation, and no place to nod off, was taken on a mini-adventure running errands with Nicole, came back, chatted more, and then went for nachos. And, in scant moments, I will make my way home.

It is a long afternoon to spend alone in the Visitor Services office at the ROM. I've been finished work for just over an hour and with another hour to go before the museum closes, I'm guaranteed a nice dull time. Why am I sitting around? I could go outside, granted, as it's a very nice day, but somehow it's just easier to kill time here. I'm waiting for the hour of 7:30 to arrive when I will then head to the Duke of York a block from here. There's a meeting for the Democrats Abroad - a pub night, to be precise - and I decided that it would be good to attend. You see, earlier this week, I signed myself up.

Yes, that's right, I'm in the process of filling out my request for a ballot so that I can progressively have a hand in hopefully ousting the Shrub, aka. Bush. I've taken to calling him The Shrub because shrubs are like trees only they never become majestic, instead they are stunted and serve to fill space. And that's what I feel George W. is busy doing: taking up space. I want him and his cronies out of office. He didn't deserve to be there in the first place and now is the time to get him out.

Anyway, I phoned Democrats Abroad because I couldn't figure out how to register my vote and I spoke with a lovely man (whom I'll meet tonight, presumably, and have been warned by someone who knows him that he's a little, um, bombastic) who was more than helpful.

"I am calling because I'd really like to vote in the next election but I don't know how to register."

"And am I to presume that you'll be voting Democrat?"

"That's the idea, yes."

"Good, I was just checking, I'd hate for you to be a misguided Republican..." He paused and chuckled.

"They would have to be if they're planning to vote for Bush." I hoped he was making a joke and filled in what I believed to be the answer. Not knowing for sure, he might have just been one of those gigglers who can't seem to finish a thought without giggling or chuckling, whether it was funny or not.

"Exactly !"

Phew. Well, he was indeed helpful and I have spent the better part of three breaks sorting through the links and information he directed me to. There is a lot of information out there and it's a bit confusing. I sent an email to my mother asking her to dig out the address of our house in Brooklyn, as that's my last US residence. Heh, I was nearly six years old when we moved. Twenty years in Canada, but I can still vote in the country of my birth. Hopefully, she will be able to track it down and I can get on this quickly. I want the ball rolling as I was warned that New York got its ballots out late last time around.

In the meantime, I'm sitting around in the office, frittering time away. I'm trying to do some cartoons based on my friend Kelly's crazy little cadence. She posted it in her livejournal and it would make a great clapping or skipping song. It's kind of dark, but it makes me think of the Lizzie Borden rhyme

Lizzie Borden took an ax
and gave her mother forty whacks.
When she saw what she had done
she gave her father forty-one.

even though the rhythm is quite different. I'm going to try to cartoon the whole thing and maybe turn it into a mini graphic novel when I've worked out all the ideas. I've signed myself up for the Art By The Inch competition.

Based on the idea of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and its goal to have everyone write a 50000 word novel, this competition is designed to get artists of all types producing 10000 square inches of art. There are three levels: gold at 10000", silver at 5000", and bronze at 2500". I'm afraid I'm aiming for the bronze catagory. I just don't think I have it in me to produce more than that. Of course, if I go over my goal, that's not so bad, either, but if I have no goal whatsoever, it wouldn't be any more than what I'm usually doing. Besides, since the weather got nice, I haven't touched my sketchbook (with the exception of the painted Mothers' Day postcard I sent my mom).

I suspect I'll do a bunch of other things, too, in order to fill up space. I'm considering doing some larger painted works with broad brushes to blast me out of my miniaturist attention to detail storybook illustration rut. It won't matter if the works come out nicely or not, the idea is to stretch myself. I've never undertaken such a project before, so we'll see how it goes.

Nominate The Greatest Canadian! Think of the one person you feel deserves to be named The Greatest Canadian. Submit your nomination at www.cbc.ca/greatest, or call our toll-free phone line at 1-866-303-VOTE (8683). You can make one nomination per address, so make it count. Be sure to send us your pick by May 16, when the nomination period closes.

Okay, I'll post in my own words soon, I promise. Really, I will. I have stuff to say, I'm just being lazy.

In many cultures, the arrival of spring is heralded by celebrations of fertility and the sewing of seeds. While I did not engage in Beltane or May Day activities, I have been busily planting my terrace garden. It is looking very pretty now. One box contains a couple of ivy varieties and a pair of magenta geraniums. Another contains some attractive veregated something-or-others and parsley seeds that will hopefully germinate. In another box I planted some two dwarf lavendar plants and impatiens. Finally, I have two planters with geraniums and impatiens (pink and white). I once vowed never to plant geraniums because esthetically speaking I don't love them, but I have realised that they're nearly impossible to kill, which is good, because I can be a little eratic with the watering. So, in my own way, I have celebrated the arrival of spring, too.

The trees have started to leaf, they're either all budding or sprouting and flowering. It happens all at once; suddenly the world is green. The light green leaves of spring are my favourite, and I enjoy the blooms raining petals on the street. I happened to be walking late last night, returning from my friend's house, and it was drizzling but quite warm, and the air was heady with the smell of blossoms. I have often wondered why flower scents become so much more pungent at night. The walk home was really nice, though; with no one out and about everything was peaceful.

Knowing that I'm going to be moving to Peterborough in September, I'm really taking advantage of Toronto while I can. I do love this city for all it's superficiality. I even enjoy the ambient noise, though not so much the smog. Besides, Peterborough has air just as bad as Toronto. I like that there's always something to do. I like that there are so many funky people (and I mean that in every possible sense of the word) walking around. I love how multicultural Toronto is and the way the neighbourhoods bleed into each other.

On the other hand, in Peterborough I can ride horses again. THAT will be wonderful. I miss horses and being part of the horsey community, even as a fringe member. I even (or should that be 'especially'?) miss smelling of horses. Long ago, my leather jacket stopped smelling, even in the rain. It's a strange thing to miss, perhaps, but when it's part of your life for years and then it's gone, it leaves a void. Another good thing about going to Peterborough will be living rent-free with my mother. Some people, going into their late 20s, resent having to move home again. And how do I feel about it? I think it sounds super. I adore my mother and she's become my closest friend. We seldom fight and though sometimes the teasing gets biting, our relationship is really great. And it will be so much easier having laundry facilities in the same place as my bed.

Tonight, there will be barbeque ! Stew came into my room yesterday and subtly hinted his desire for steak. "You know, this weather makes me think barbeque..." My answer went something like this: "Yes, Stew, I will bbq tomorrow. I'm not going food shopping today." He bounced with excitement. I am Queen Barbeque, you see. And, tomorrow, I'm going up to A&C's to check on the plants, etc., as they're in Chicago. They'll be back on Friday, but tomorrow is the first chance I have to make sure things are okay.

C'est tout.

Aside from Willi bathing me again (this time without blood and rubbing alcohol) I thought I'd talk about hanging out with an old friend with whom I thought I'd lost touch.

Many separations, many months of denying each other due to our own personal problems, attitudes, weaknesses, passed and today I know that regardless of what might keep us apart, Megan and I will always be able to come together once more. I had great fears for our relationship when I reached out to contact her a couple of weeks ago, and it felt awkward at first, but we got over it and danced and had fun. But today, there were no flashing lights, no black-light ornaments, no DJs or other bodies getting in the way. Today, it was just us.

Megs met me at the ROM after work and a union meeting and from there we walked through the UofT campus, down St. George, to Queen. We talked about life and our losses and gains. We talked of our plans, hopes and desires. We touched on the hurt and the fears. We wandered in and out of shops, mocking the stupid shoes and their spikey heels, drooling over Fluevogs, drooling on the Fluevogs... We played dress-up in corsets and velvet and strange panteloons. And we talked and talked and talked.

The most amazing moment came as we were walking along Queen to Bathurst. Bumping into each other as we walked, like we're always on a five stride intersect course.

Not saying anything.

We just walked, bumped into each other, and relished the presence of the other without needing to say a word. I knew right then that there was no need to say anything, only to be together. Good friends. It was really nice and deeper by far than any conversation we could have been having. I am glad that Megan is back in my life. I didn't see until today that without her there had been a piece missing from my life.

Ya. And we got stopped for a streeter about the smoking ban that will be coming into effect in the bars of Toronto. Neat.

Sometimes, Willi (aka Stinky Bee) thinks I'm dirty and require a bath. Kitty style. Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting at my desk, checking my email, when I decided to give her chin a tickle. She clearly felt my fingers were filthy and started to lick them.

Unfortunately, this stimulated her mothering needs and within only a few seconds, she had climbed up onto my shoulder and started licking my ear and hair. She hunkered down and held on when I tried to remove her from my back. Getting quite whipped up by all this (unwanted, on my part) bathing, she started to lick my face and when I pulled my head away, she swivelled around and bit my chin. Yes, she BIT me on my CHIN.

And it hurt. I have rosacea and a while back, a flare-up on my chin got infected. It's finally healing after more than a month (it looks kind of like a cold sore - eeeww), but it is slow going because it splits when I smile, yawn, or laugh. And now, her tooth just cut through it. Yuck and ouch !

Her removal from my back was immediate and involved her flying through the air and me running in the opposite direction to break out the rubbing alcohol. I'm pretty sure Willi thought she was just acting like a mother cat with a disobedient kitten, but holy crap it hurt. And it bled.

Yes, I know that dog-people will simply add this to their fodder as to why cats are 'bad' but I say to them: "Yeah, at times like this, sometimes even I wonder why I like them."

---

In other news (you know, I write that quite regularly in my weblog), I had a very good day at the ROM today. I love working as an Eternal Egypt educator and I think I do a darn good job. Today I was in a room I'd never done before but have wanted to do since the very beginning. It was a little rough for the first two groups, as I hadn't settled on a spiel, yet, but my excuse to them was that I had a sore throat and wasn't feeling too good. This is not, in fact, a lie. I do have a sore throat and it was worse this morning.

Most of the school groups were quite easy to engage, even the highschool kids. I had one teacher of an art class, probably in her 40s, but quite hip and enthusiastic, totally re-evaluate the way she had been teaching the Egyptian period to her kids, in part because of the stuff I talked about. She said to me afterward, "I had always thought that Egyptian art progressed from the beginning through to the end in a linnear fashion. Now I see that this is not actually the case." This little bit of question and answer made me feel not only smart and cool, but gave me one of those rare moments when I realised that my degree was not entirely a waste and I really DID learn something at school.

Our conversation went like this (Warning: Art-nerd alert):

"Unfortunately, Egyptian art is anything but linear. Sure, the tools improved, which allowed for more risk-taking and, yes there was a standardised 'look' that was developed over time, but they spent a lot of time looking back at what came before."

"So I really need to take another look at how to teach this."

"Well, the idea that all things progressed in a straight line is more and more out-dated. If anything, this exhibit proves it."

"How often did they archaise [use older styles]?"

"A lot. During this period, the 12th Dynasty, the headdress of the Old Kingdom came back into vogue, at least in art, as did the figural style, but at the same time they were experimenting with portrait styles and studies from life. You'll see this sort archaism again in the Late Period when Egypt was ruled by foreign kings and they were looking to reclaim their strength through the visual identity of the much earlier past."

"What about the period of naturalising that took place in the New Kingdom?"

"The Amarna period?"

"Yes, Amarna, didn't that change their art?"

"Well, you'll see that later in the exhibition, and I can't take much more time now 'cause the next group is here, but you'll see that for all it's changes, and apparent progressiveness, it was so identified with the negative aspects of the king that by 100 years later, you would never know it had existed. You'll see the remarkable shift back to static sculpture that comes with Rameses the Great."

"I had no idea how complicated their art really was. It was never my specialty, but it is really fascinating and I think I'll take a closer look at it over the summer."

My great week has now been followed-up by a great weekend. I feel so lucky and so happy and satisfied, even though not everything is going the way I want it to. That's life, right? Right. Following up on the idea of life as a spiral, while things look, on the surface, much like they did not so long ago, here I am, looking down, and I can see where I was this time last year and I KNOW I have progressed. I've got school to look forward to in the fall and a summer full of excitement and adventure. I have a boyfriend with whom I am very happy and friends surrounding me. Sure, the money is sometimes tight, but not like it was, and for that I am extremely grateful. I am talented and smart and generally a good person. I have a cat that I adore and plants that are healthy. Things are good.

And bearing that in mind, I now prepare myself for the inevitably unpleasant phonecall to the people at Canada Student Loans.

I've had a great week. It's not that anything out of the ordinary has happened, it's just been, well, pretty good. With the exception of an encounter with a co-worker that was less than pleasant, all has been well.

I managed to go out for someone's birthday on Thursday night and hear some music, which was really nice. I haven't gone to hear a band, or musician play in months and months. I knew one of the performers and she was excellent, really moving and fun. Her name is Karyn Ellis and she's pretty darn good, so check her out. Following her performance was group called Amanda Mabro and the Cabaret Band (I think). They were a tight little swing band fronted by Amanda Mabro and she's incredible. Pipes out of this world. Rick came out for some of the fun, but due to pressures at his work, he had to leave early in order to get some sleep.

The evening prior, Wednesday, was spent at Rick's and he cooked a yummy dinner and we watched television. I know, how exciting is that? Anyway, we were both dead tired (see a pattern?) and rather than pass out on his couch I decided to head home for a good night's sleep. It's a good thing I did, too, or I'd have missed the awesome "street theatre" at Queen and Carlaw. This is a sketchy corner at best, and truly divey and sometimes scary at worst. I've had a lot of experience with it, in that Rick's the third guy I've dated who lived right there.

Let me set the scene. One plump art student type guy with portfolio and parchment case under his arm, another fellow of undetermined ethnic background, a little shorter than me with dark eyes and long dark hair, and a deaf-mute. The deaf-mute (is there a more PC term for this?) was dressed in a sporty wind-breaker, nice cream-coloured, very clean, pressed slacks, and expensive looking brown woven leather shoes. He also had tattoos on the back of his hands between thumb and forefinger, plus a very expensive looking watch. If it weren't for his wild gesticulating and howling at passing cars, he looked as if he would fit in very nicely on the set of The Sopranos.

A patrol car came cruising up Carlaw, as the police tend to do, slowly checking out everyone at the corner, stopping when it came abreast of the ranting fellow. The got out, a female officer and a male, and they started to ask him some questions. This was the point when I realised he was deaf, previous to this I had assumed he was a crazy, drunk man, of which there are many in the neighbourhood. Through rudimentary sign language on the part of the female officer and more of the man's wild gesticulating, he got his point across that he lives in a house "over that way" and he was waiting for the bus to take him.

At this point, the bus arrived and we all filed on. The police chatted with the driver for a minute and parted company when the driver accepted the deaf guy on without a ticket. As soon as the bus starts to move, the guy starts ranting again, hands forming big shapes in the air. I'm paying loose attention, mostly seeing him as comical and basically harmless, but I can't figure out what he's saying. The guy from the bus stop, the one of undetermined ethnic origins, turns around in the seat in front of me, grinning, and says, "Wow, that guy's great." I agree and he adds, "Do you know what he's saying?" When I said I didn't, he began to decipher the hand gestures for me. I don't know how he was able to figure it out, but once he started to explain, it became obvious that he was right.

It went something like this: I live in a big house and have lots of money and it's really funny to me that I am riding the bus with you poor people because I fly all over the world. We started to hypothesise about what kind of a house he really lived in and whether or not it was true or whether this guy was really out of it. It was impossible to tell since he was clearly a bit of a head-case, but also dressed pretty darn well. He got off the bus at Danforth and headed off down the street so we'll never know for sure, but it was awfully amusing to watch his antics.

In other news, my dear friend Tanya is getting married. Whee ! More about that at another time. Also, Willi has been extra adorable with me, following me around and talking to me constantly, while Tobe spends a lot of her time sleeping in the sink.

Tonight, after a not terribly satisfying "bad movie" night with Stew and all his girls, or almost all them, and a fairly satisfying game of Munchkin, I am now engaged in a very Canadian tradition. I am drinking beer (though it is neither Molson or Labatt) and watching Game Seven between Toronto and Ottawa (Hockey, here folks). Ottawa is losing and there are only three minutes remaining in play, the Toronto fans have begun chanting "Hey, hey, hey, goodbye", and it's fairly safe to say that Ottawa won't be able to catch up those three goals to tie it up. A small part of me wishes it were not the case, I wanted Ottawa to go down with a greater fight, but what can you do? One of them has to win, the other has to lose - that's the way it works.

I don't usually watch hockey. Most of the season I only pay passing attention, though in previous years, because I was part of a pool, I did pay some. I love playoff hockey, though, it's fast and tense and the meat-heads prove their worth and for once, Toronto fans make noise. If I lived in my old neighbourhood people would spill out into the streets from all the bars and make a lot of noise, but here, in this predominantly Italian soccer-loving neighbourhood, there will probably be very little noise made. Rick might go whoop it up on Yonge Street, he said. I've done the whooping, albeit for baseball, but I know what it's like and I don't need my arm nearly pulled off by a drunk again, thanks, once was enough.

I just whitnessed something that was pretty interesting, I must say, a melee broke out between two players and it was essentially broken up by the ref and one of Ottawa's players who took hold of one of the Leafs and just talked him down and kept him out of it until it was settled. I'm not used to seeing that sort of sportsmanship.

Anyway, it's official, Toronto won and a single person just came out on my street and rang a hand-bell. And then he went away again. This really is a soccer street. My neighbours woke me up every morning during the World Cup, in case there was any doubt. The game was won by the beginning of the third period as Ottawa couldn't get it together to score any more and as their confidence slipped, Toronto managed to broaden the win even further. In the end, it was 4-1 and Toronto will go onto play Philadelphia.

Finally, I would like to take a moment to make it public that when Toronto picked up Belfour, their extraordinary goalie, Rick said, "Nah, he's OLD." I was a fan right from the start and said something along the lines of, "Ya, but he knows what he's doing and he's good at it." Boy is he ever. Yay !

Well, my beer is finished, and for you who care to know, it was a Rickard's Red, the hockey game is over, and company is still over. There remains a small portion of my room that still needs cleaning, though it's all vacuumed and swept and tidied and whatnot, so I should attend to the details before they start to pile up again. Or, I'll pop a new cloth on my Swiffer Wet-Jet... yes, that is what I will do. And it will be wonderful. Goodnight.

It's been a little time since my last real post and I decided it was time to sit down and write a little. This week has shown a full scale welcoming of spring in my neighbourhood even though it began with coolish temperatures and wind chill. Firstly, the sun has been shining most of the week and the birds have been singing merrily every morning. I've been watching various urban birds go through their elaborate mating rituals. The pigeons outside the ROM aren't the best examples as they court in good weather almost the whole year long, but the males have been especially impressive with their puffed up strutting and cooing and the females haven't altogether ignored them. I was watching some starlings do cute things with nesting materials yesterday and each evening I've enjoyed the sound of robins wishing the day a goodnight.

The tom cats have been out prowling. My house which has two spayed females upstairs and a as of yet unspayed kitty below, has been a frequented spot for the neighbourhood toms who have been leaving their musky calling cards against the front of the house and porch. Yum. The other neighbourhood toms, the young men, have been out lowering the suspensions of their Hondas and driving around with their subwoofers turned way up - a sure sign that the weather has been improving. Also, for the first time this season, I heard the dreadfully annoying jingling dingle of the icecream truck coming down the street. The skunks have been out and about, scurrying across the road and getting into things. Inside the house, Willi and Tobe have been in very high spirits, cavorting about the place with gleeful abandon. As for myself, I've been in pretty good spirits, too, most likely because of the longer days and bright, warm sun.

And, the final, most telling sign of spring are the Italian (and Portugese, to be fair) housewives standing outside hosing down the sidewalks. Why they feel the sidewalks must have litres and litres of water poured over them, I don't know, but obviously, water conservation is not a high priority. My landlords are currently out downstairs landscaping the front lawn, as well. They have an interesting concept of garden design, what with the birdbath set at the very front of the lawn with the enormous frog that pretty much fills it. I think it's a fountain of some sort, too. Today, when I came down the street, I found them, and a friend, busy planting geraniums. Already. I told them it looks very lovely, but I warned them that it might just be a bit early yet. There's a rule for planting on the May 24th weekend for a reason. I explained that there could still be snow, even if it's not terribly likely. They seemed shocked but grudgingly agreed it was probably too soon, but oh well, geraniums are hardy. They're from Spain. I think there's a lot about Canada they haven't quite figured out yet.

Anyway, this post out of my system, I think it's time for my nap. I haven't been getting to bed when I ought lately, for one reason or another, and I'm really tired. There was supposed to be a Job Review Committee meeting today but it was canceled, happily. Had it gone ahead, I would have stuck around for a ROM Friends of South Asia event tonight, but I couldn't justify hanging around for five hours. I knew that if I went home I probably wouldn't make it back, either. So, I went for lunch with some of the girls at the museum and then came home. I browsed around on St. Clair for a bit when I got off the streetcar, but I have learned that nothing will fit me. All clothes stop at size 12 and all shoes go up to 91/2. I guess they're not buying their goods for the tall market. Funny, that, this being a predominantly Mediterranean neighbourhood.

How seasonally appropriate, thanks to Meriam Webster:

The Word of the Day for Apr 08 is:

Pasch \PASK\ noun

*1 : Easter
2 : Passover


Example sentence:"Miss Ina will not be for burying him in the kirkyard, but in Isle-Monach, where my Donald would be seeing ghosts at Yule and Pasch." (Walter C. Smith, "Kildrostan")

Did you know?
Easter is sometimes called the Christian Passover, and Passover the Jewish Easter. Given that, it's not surprising that "Pasch" comes from the Hebrew word for "Passover" — "pesah." That word, in turn, is from Hebrew "pâsah," meaning "to pass over." One interpretation (though not the only one) is that the word refers to the final plague before the Jews were permitted to leave Egypt (the Exodus commemorated by the celebration of Passover), in which God slew the firstborn sons of the Egyptians but passed over the Jewish households. "Pesah" became "pascha" in Greek, then "Pasch" in English, which, like a basket with two eggs, has held both a reference to Passover and to the Christian celebration of Christ's Resurrection since at least 1200.

Please note: unfocused thought processing ahead. Please be advised that there may be no conclusion whatsoever found or even a real point to this entry at all.

Some of you, those who know me, I suppose, know that I have an interest in the occult. It's a general interest that has influenced my studies and hobbies for years. I didn't put a name to it for a long time, and using the term 'occult' might be a bit misleading, but I am fascinated by mythology and early religion and how it's come down to us over time. Maybe I can lay the blame at the feet of my open-minded mother who gave me a huge book of greek mythology when I first learned to read. Now, we also used to read from my awesome illustrated Bible stories book, too, but I'd had that from before I could read, so I don't count it - though the story of Samson and Delilah always impressed me.

I was also raised in a house of two faiths - Judaism and Christianity - and allowed to chart my own course. Add to this my mother's involvement with Native Earth Performing Arts and the education in Native storytelling that I received via their shows. By the time I was twelve I was well on my way to broad-mindedness concerning faith and spirituality.

I'm rambling now; my essay-writing skills have suffered these past two years outside of academia. Anyway, I have just finished a really interesting book, Witch: the wild ride from wicked to wicca, by author Candace Savage. It discusses the image of the witch and how she has come down to us through history. It debunks a lot of myths surrounding the witch in her many incarnations and links each subsequent century with their misconceptions, right down to our own. It seems that in each successive generation, the roots of 'witchcraft' go further and further into the past so that by the middle of the twentieth century, the witch had been embraced by feminists and radical social reformers as an icon of collective resistance. Wicca, itself, was born from a misconceived idea of medieval witch cults built from scant records and elaborated on extensively by early anthropologist Margaret Murray. You can read the revised texts here, but when the intro states that "Murray was one of the first to objectively review the evidence of the 'burning times' witch trials to try to extract a kernel of truth" understand that this is not wholey true. It seems that she actually did a bit of book-cooking herself.

In fact, there's been so much cooking of the books that it is nearly impossible to know fact from fiction. And that is one of the reasons it fascinates me so much. In one of my fourth year seminars, I began with the development of an idea about depictions of peasantry in Renaissance art and how they served as moral truths and satirical commentary. This developed into an interest in depictions of women in Renaissance art and from there into the idea of the witch. I also recently read an excellent book called "King Death" and I can see the parallels between the ideas it promoted, concerning Bubonic Plague in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance, and the rising fear of witchcraft and evil. I feel like I should revisit the topic, but I think my paper might be gone - thrown in a bin for my lack of interest, or something. Perhaps my professor still has a copy, or perhaps it exists somewhere on a disc.

Thought process is here ended. We return to our regularly scheduled programming.

I'm currently in the Petes in order to celebrate Passover with Mom. All the matzoh has stoppered me like a corked bottle of wine and I'm already yearning for biscotti. Terrible, I know. I should be ashamed. I am working at the ROM on Good Friday and Easter Monday, which is very good for my bank account, and as I'm not working Saturday or Sunday, I can take the car into Toronto and return with it for a couple more days of relaxation. I have a date with Rick tomorrow night. I believe we'll be seeing Hell Boy, which should be fun, even though I've never read the comic book. So, my return to Peterborough with the car will be Saturday morning. I'd bring my cat if I were staying out a little longer. She could use some romping in the garden as she's gotten a bit pudgy.

But now, if plans hold, I am to help put up the bird feeders.

I have been neglecting this journal in favour of the much more mindless Live Journal that I can be found frequently posting in. I've been trying to reserve this one for more profound thoughts, but I haven't had many of late.

With the exception of my little theory concerning the grade nine students who come through Eternal Egypt. I have discussed it with various people whom I consider intelligent and thoughtful, including my mother, and mostly once I lay it out, they agree. I came to this understanding after one particular day when I had lots of grade fives and one class of developmentally handicapped adults.

From what I have seen and experienced, the grade nines are the absolute most difficult age level to engage in conversation. They do not want to talk. Sometimes, they raise their hands and then as soon as I turn to them they falter. This is not nearly so bad among the grade elevens, who are beginning to show interest and offer answers. It came to me when I dealt with the developmentally impaired group. These were also young adults, probably around 18 years of age, or so, and yet I had no trouble engaging them. They were a lot like the grade five groups I see so much of with their enthusiasm and volunteering of information.

Children are very emotional. They have no trouble suspending their disbelief. If I tell them that Egyptian judgement consisted of the deceased's heart being weight against a feather, they have no problem accepting that a heart can weigh as little as a feather. Or that the feather of Ma'at (the concept of truth and order) might actually weigh more than a normal feather. Again, with the group of special adults, they had no problem accepting this. They are able to believe, just as a child can believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. In contrast, the grade elevens have developed their 'mature' thinking skills. They no longer think of things in terms of emotion, instead they think rationally. They can understand the emotional qualities, but place it in a seperate compartment.

The grade nines, however; are in the process of making the leap from emotional thought to rational understanding. More often than not, their questions are the ones that struggle to bridge the gap. For instance, "How can a heart and feather weigh the same?" They are attempting to reason out the answer, but are unable to quite let go of their child-like comprehension. It's sort of an extension, I think, of how younger children try to comprehend the existence of Santa Claus. Grade nine is a brutal time in a person's development, and now, taking into consideration what I have seen, I think I have a much better understanding of exactly what makes it so difficult. More than any other year in a kid's life, I think that one is the gap over which the youth is standing, one foot in childhood, the other in adulthood.

I wouldn't want to repeat it under any circumstance, but it does make me view them less as a downer and more as a challenge.

Spring has sprung. Aside from the rain and the blooming crocusses, random construction projects have been springing up all around the city. With my sliding door ajar I can hear the robins before dawn and the drills once the sky gets light. Ahhhh, spring. It's going to rain all week and it's raining pretty heavily now, and here I am, knowing that my umbrella is where I left it - in my apartment. I am so clever.

I spent a couple of hours painting Grurl, one of my cute, fat dragons (I should trademark that) while I watched the last half of Pirate Movie and CSI Miami, which was slightly more realistic than it usually is. Grurl sits in a little flower pot, all four feet in the air, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He's a nice, vibrant blue with orange detailing and I gave him plastic stuffed-animal eyes so he looks a little intense. He's pretty cute. I hope someone takes him home from Ad-Astra. I'll try to get some pictures of him and the other ones I've made, too.

This morning I woke up around 7am, which is about an hour earlier than I need to get up, because Stinky was making quite a bit of noise as she wrestled with one of her cat toys. It was the squeaky... um... hampster?... and every so often it let out a pathetic, wheezy squeak. When she'd quite finished with it she dropped herself onto me like a small, soft, sack of sand and went to sleep. She and Porkchop have been getting along much better of late - perhaps the return of spring has raised their spirits. I hear them playing, then they tear into my room, raise some Hell before flying out again, and then the thumping continues in other parts of the house.

I sort of feel like I should be talking about important things. The thing is, I haven't heard back from Fleming College yet as to whether I've been accepted, things haven't moved much on the dead-beat politician issue, I've settled into the new jobs with no drama... This doesn't leave a whole lot to talk about. The most exciting things I can think of these days is my planned trip to New York in June. And even that is only in the conceptual stage. I'm thinking that if I'm there for a week (with Mom) then I might skip over to Philadelphia for two days of that to visit my pal, Megs, and various other people. Too bad it looks like there won't be any exciting temporary exhibits at the Philly Museum of Art, but there do seem to be several interesting exhibitions on at the Met. I might try the Rodin Museum in Philly, too, as I've never been there.

Working the main cash is a long shift, though not as long as that of the information desk. I see a lot of people from a lot of places (today including a family from Bermuda, two very funny Dutch lesbians, a family from Australia, etc.), but most of them aren't terribly interesting. There are people who reek of booze and reefer, or cigarettes, others talking around their hotdogs, people with strange body odours... You get the idea. When I worked at Membership I had a few of those, but mostly just expensive drunks. What kind of disappoints me is that here I am, chatting with everyone, greeting everyone, smiling all day, and so many people are so utterly humourless. I told the Dutch ladies that I wished they could just hang out at admissions all day to amuse me. They rocked. But they only just managed to balance out the nasty old man who was very angry about everything.

Now the day is winding down and I'm getting ready to cash out and I'm looking forward to going home and painting fat dragons. I'm going to put aside my money concerns, of which, despite an increase in pay, I still have, and just take it nice and easy. I think maybe with a cup of tea.

Oh my goodness, I've had such a nice night with Rick... actually, I've had a really nice day. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? After calling out of work sick with the uckiness of a cold yesterday, I dragged myself out of bed in order not to miss another day at the museum. Good thing I did, too, because today's batch of tours was really rewarding. Every single group was great. With the exception of one group of developmentally handicapped young adults, they were all about ten years old and the most (including the special group) engaged, enthusiastic bunch so far. I learned that it's not hard to teach about Egypt to high-functioning autistics and people with downs-syndrome, you just need to appeal to their emotional understanding. They all loved the concept of the Egyptian afterlife, which is a farm where the fields are always irregated, there are animals ("I don't like goats - they're smelly"), and it's always sunny. Hey, me too. Sign me up.

As a slight digression from my day, I feel really comfortable in the Eternal Egypt exhibition now that I've taken Mom and Julie through it. Spending over two hours talking about nearly every piece and certainly every period of Egyptian history makes me realise just how much I actually know. And I keep thinking of things I could have said while I was taking them through and never got around to mentioning. I really do enjoy this new job in Education and I'll be sorry when it ends in June. I'd happily work the feathered dinosaur exhibit that's coming next year, but God-willing, I'll be in school. There will be other exhibits, though, and maybe after I'm done at school, I'll be on a different end of things - making some of the magic happen.

I ran some errands following that and took my self-portrait in to be framed at Frames 'n Graphics on Bloor Street before heading home to have a nice afternoon nap. I also cleaned out Willi's litter pan, disinfected it with cleanser and all. She naturally spent a good portion of my nap-time digging in it fiercely and waking me up. It clearly meets her standards of clean because she was in and out of it at least three times before she let Tobe anywhere near (who then also made use of it). Once I was awake again, happily noting that it is now still light out until past six o'clock in the evening, I headed out to meet Rick at our favourite (only?) Indian restaurant, Red Rose. The last time we were there was the day I told Rick I needed a break, so this was a much happier occasion and we enjoyed every moment of it. He gave me They Might Be Giants' children's book, which was very sweet of him and totally unnecessary.

We had initially intended to go see Ladykillers tonight, the new, seemingly quite bizarre Tom Hanks movie, but we ended up walking all along Bloor Street, ducking into Cheapo (Sonic Boom) Records and then Book City. It's very nice to be able to afford a couple of used CDs and one book on sale. It's been so very long. This past two weeks I've been able to buy clothing for the first time in months - with my own money - and now something to entertain my ears and my brain. In fact, one of the CDs I bought was an EP by my old favourite indy band, Red Autumn Fall. It's kind of surreal to be sitting here in my house with Rick in the shower, Willi sleeping on my monitor, and Simeon pouring out his mellifluous soul into my room. I haven't listened to RAF in years, but this EP is so much better than the CD they put out before they broke up.

So, we ended the evening having a coffee at Dooney's and being all hipster like. I enjoyed some tasty, if not exactly like how I remember it, New York cherry-topped cheesecake and a cappucino and Rick had an Irish coffee. We walked to Spadina Station and Rick slid his way up the immobile moving sidewalk and when we finally got home it was after eleven. Now we're both clean, well-fed, and ready for a snuggle.

Last night, I dreamed all sorts of weird things. The most troubling one concerning the latest assassination in Israel and the recent outbreak of anti-semitism in Toronto. People kept demading to know my feelings on Israel's policies and making accusitory remarks about how the vandalism is related to them and how Jews deserved this, etc. As most of my friends know, I am never quite able to put my feelings into words, a rare thing for me, as I simply cannot come up with how things in Israel should be handled. I believe in the Homeland and a little part of me always believes when we end the seder with "next year in Jerusalem", but do I support the policies? The state sanctioned murder? The wall? No. Do I feel for the victims of suicide bombings? Yes. So? Well, here's where I can't put it into words. I simply cannot fathom how anyone can get out of the mess that is Israel and Palestine. It was like this in my dream and people were yelling at me and hurling insults at me and then telling me it was my fault that Jewish cemetaries were being desecrated.

I am glad that when I woke up following this dream, there was a soft, fluffy cat curled up against me under my covers. Melody, as a cat of the ripe old age of 17, has no such worries, no understanding of those things that trouble my mind. She just offers love and attention and is generally available for kisses when needed.

Anyway, this past weekend was very nice. On Thursday night, my four year anniversary of being with Rick, he and I took the Greyhound out to the Petes where Mom picked us up. On Friday, as it was such a lovely day, all three of us went out for a walk along the Otonabee River. The usual photos were snapped in the usual places by the water, with the exception of a couple my mother took of Rick and I rough-housing. I guess it says something of my level of comfort with Rick, now, as opposed to in the past, as we have never really acted like that. We were flinging each other about, dragging each other around, all because I wouldn't relinquish my mother's cane to him. At the end of it, my arms kind of hurt, but I was smiling. I'm really happy with Rick and it shows. We went for dinner that night to a new Chinese (American-style) restaurant near-by and it was pretty darn yummy. Kind of like a scaled-down Mandarin, there were some very tasty things. On Saturday, Rick and I went off to the mall. Woo. He bought me the DVD release of Schindler's List as part of my present and I bought some small accessories and a card to send off to my little-sister, Gina, in Brooklyn.

We took Bernadette into Toronto on Saturday night so that I'd be able to work on Sunday and be able to drive out with our big present for Mom: a new (refurbished) 17" monitor. Rick was a Saint, picking it up for me as I had to work longer than I thought and would have otherwised missed the store hours. He waited for me at Kos for over two hours and I met him there. I had all-day breakfast and then we packed the monitor into the car. Stopping briefly chez moi so that I could pick up my school bag, say hi to Stew, and play with Willi, Rick took a moment to figure out why Natasha had suddenly gone from a half-empty harddrive to a nearly-full harddrive. It turns out that Stew's been storing stuff on it that he plans to burn for his friend, but he had failed to mention this to me. So, we deleted some un-used programmes and then I drove Rick home before returning to the Petes.

Mom and I will be driving into Toronto tonight, she staying at Julie's house in order to come to the ROM tomorrow. I'll be giving both of them the 'education' tour through Eternal Egypt. They're both looking forward to it, so much so that I actually feel some amount of pressure to really make it count. I've only spoken about three zones in the exhibit, four as of tomorrow morning, and I've got some studying to do, before I'm ready to do that. So, I hope that my tour for Mom and Julie lives up to their expectations and that they ask questions about things I actually know. *laugh* We shall see. Anyway, that's for tomorrow. Right now, I think it's time for a nice relaxing bath before my return. While I do that, you should check out my recent self-portrait. I'm quite proud of it. :)

There comes a time in every woman's life, usually once a year, when she has to make a visit to the doctor to get... checked out. Awkward as it can be, if the doctor has a nice manner and can still laugh at your jokes while peering into parts never intended to be seen in such a manner, well, the experience can be rendered inoccuous. Today, I had such a doctor. In fact, this doctor gave me the best exam I think I've ever had, if that can be said about something so utterly undesired. Young men think that there could be nothing better than staring into a woman's vagina all day, or at least I've heard them comment that being a gynacologist is a 'dream job'. This is because they have NO IDEA how unappealing and utterly unsexy the job really is. I would like to thank Dr. Hussein for making my appointment after work as - pleasant is probably the wrong word, here - unheinous as it could be.

Actually, I had a surprisingly good day at work. Today I was one of the 'break people' or 'breakers' in VS. Of course, it's March Break, so there aren't any school groups and I refused to be strapped into armour or do 'medieval dancing' for the enjoyment of an ungrateful crowd, so VS has me for most of the week. Today consisted of being 'in charge' at least for short periods of time. I got to relieve the lead hands for their breaks and lunches which put me in a direct supervisory position above the people on the registers. This is sort of funny considering I have worked a total of two days on the register, only one of which was unsupervised. However, with the exception of a couple of hairy moments, the day went extremely fast and without too much trouble. The job of this particular job is that you get to move around a lot. When not breaking people, I was doing crowd control (this means I get to yell and we all know how much I enjoy doing that), direct and float around being useful. Even better, no one yelled at me. Huzzah !

Today is A&C's one year anniversary. It is sort of hard to believe that they've been married this long already... or even that there was a time when they weren't. Rick and I went over to their place on Saturday in order to help celebrate this festive ocasion. I dyed Carrie's hair red (hopefully it won't fade out right away like last time) and brought over dessert. Rick came over a bit later with a bottle of wine. We went for tasty food at one of the Firkin pubs (um, the Goose and Firkin, maybe?) and I was overjoyed to find REAL steak and kidney pie on the menu, not the wannabe steak and mushroom pie (which is also tasty, I must admit). We went back to their place for the lovely fruity cheesecake I'd brought and wine, enjoying Underworld at the same time. Unfortunately, and not really surprisingly, I got hit with a migraine and had to lie down for over an hour in order to let the medication do its job. That sort of spoiled the evening, but other than that episode, it was fun. Hopefully, they are doing fun things tonight, but they're probably just playing Everquest. ;)

Rick and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary of being together this coming Thursday. We'll be celebrating it on the bus, heading out to Peterborough where we will also jointly celebrate my Mother's Birthday. Today is actually her birthday, but I can't be out in the Petes until later in the week and Rick took a day off work in order to come too. Maybe all of us can mutually treat each other to a nice dinner out. :) I sent my mom a spring bulb platter from the excellent Peterborough flourist, Pammett's Flowers. This was the very first time I'd ordered flowers for anyone and it was terribly exciting. Well, not really, but there were just so many choices. I'm afraid I pooped out on the little card that accompanies the plants: "Happy birthday, Mom. Love Maya." How's that for original? Anyway, I didn't want to waste money on a bouquet of cut flowers or an arrangement. This way, the bulbs can be dried and planted in the garden next fall so that they can come up once again in the spring.

Happy Birthday, Mom !!

"Troubles, like babies, grow larger with nursing." So reads the sign outside the Dovercourt Baptist Church. I know what it's trying to say, but I think it fails. It has the feel of being translated from a different language. Anyway, I couldn't get it out of my head all evening last night once I'd read it. I kept repeating it in my head as I rode the bus home last night and it was the first thing I said to Stew when I came up the stairs. It really doesn't put babies into a nice light at all, especially if you put emphasis on the 'like babies' part. Creepy.

Last night was my Yay-I-Quit membership party except we (all who attended) were all kind of out of it and not very partilicious. A bit disappointing, but it was nice to see people, especially Nick, whom I had not seen since before Christmas. I was sorry that A&C had not come out, but they, too, were kind of bleh. Anyway, we were at Insomnia a place that has amazing food and great drinks. Our waiter wasn't a barrel of laughs, but he mostly got the job done effectively.

I've been settling into my new positions at the ROM with very little difficulty, but there is so much to learn about the VS postion that I just hadn't ever thought about. My first day on cash went well and at the end of my day everything balanced. Lia was my trainer and since she has a hard time explaining things, I got to do a lot of practical learning, hands-on, etc. It's the best way to learn, though. I'm back in there on Sunday working cash, which is the first weekend of March Break. I'm on the cash that stays open the longest so that ought to be a challenge.

Today's school groups were very good, the kids all really well behaved and quite keen. I had one teacher lose her cool because she thought that everything was taking too long and they were supposed to be, "in a lab RIGHT NOW." I calmed her down and promised that their lab wasn't going to go anywhere and that whomever was leading it understands that sometimes the tours run late. She also was one of those people who thought she knew everything. The best class of the day was a grade eleven class from a christian highschool. They kids were a lot of fun and really got a kick out of my descriptions and stuff. When I referred to Ahkenaten's 'man-boobs', they killed themselves laughing and when I described him marrying his daughters adding, "Mmm, nothing like a little incest to keep a bloodline pure," they groaned and shuddered. They actually knew very little about Egypt not being a history class and that was kind of refreshing, especially since they were so receptive. Had I known, at the time, that they were from a christian school, I'd have talked a bit about the theories relating to who might have been pharoah during the Exodus, but I didn't know so I didn't say. Maybe that's for the best as yesterday I was cornered by a christian mother and her homeschooled children.

Tonight I will get paid, which will be a truly wonderful experience. I'm looking forward to it. I've been living so tight these past two weeks. Without the help of my mother and Rick I would not have eaten at all. Rick's been very generous, treating me to dinners everytime we've been out for the last three months. Soon I will be making more money and I'll hopefully be able to repay some of my debt, but I know that this paycheque is pretty well earmarked for bills and medication. There won't be much left to spend or save.

Finally, there are three significant things coming up in the next week. Firstly, my mother's birthday on the Ides of March. Secondly, A&C's first wedding anniversary also on the Ides. And thirdly, Rick and I will have been together for FOUR years as of the 18th. Wowsers. Go us, all of us ! And now I shall go home as my day here is done.

Is anyone else bothered by all the gangland shootings that have been going on in Toronto over the last few months? I'm bothered by it. Of all US culture we import, do we really need THAT? It disturbs me. It troubles me. I just don't understand it. *sigh*

My feet really hurt tonight. Walking back and forth to the bus several times a day, plus walking up and down through an exhibit for two hours, and elsewhere in the museum, on a daily basis is hard on the tootsies. They've got that slightly burning feeling of skin that is threatening to blister. Having doffed my shoes (can you doff a shoe as you can a hat?) they are still tender. I wish I could tell them that they get to sleep in tomorrow, but I'm training on the switchboard at work so I'll be back at it in eight hours time. They won't get a day off until this coming Friday. I've already decided on what I'll be doing, too. NOTHING. Oh baby.

I had an entertaining night riding up Dufferin on the bus. It isn't often that I enjoy a ride on that route, but for some reason, tonight the mix of people was kind of fun. This probably had something to do with it being Friday night and people were out. There were some girls at the back of the bus, probably around fourteen years of age, and rather than being the obnoxious, noisy things that teenage girls can be, they were fairly interesting. They were talking about other people at school, but without the nastiness that so many of the 'fairer' sex exude. There were two gangly, gawky teenage boys standing in front of me, somehow oblivious to the girls, but probably only because they were discussing one of the few things that can distract as much as boobs - music. There were some adults around me, many clearly coming home after a post-work drink. There were also some couples doing their Friday night bus snuggling and the smattering of stylish single twenty-somethings that only seem to ride the bus after dark. And, what route would be complete without the requisite drunk guy arguing and staggering around up near the driver. He seemed to have gotten hold of two long-stemmed roses, which just gave him a weird surreal appearance.

I think I'll take a moment to reflect on my first week doing schoolgroup tours at the ROM. For the most part, the grade fives are the most engaged of all the grade that have come through. The grade nines, of which there still have only been one class, were the worst. I have great hopes that at some point I'll be able to engage them. Generally, the grade elevens are really hard to interest. They are at that horrible age when they don't want to look smart - God forbid - or even mildly interested. Today was the exception. Today was a wonderful exception, actually. Most of the groups coming through were grade elevens and with the exception of one class they were all very enthusiastic. They came from, mostly, highschools with intensive arts programmes and "gifted" classes. And, I am happy to report that my old school was one of these. Unfortunately, the ten-year-olds that came through afterward were really unruly and hard to keep focused.

One thing that I've learned is that the teacher, more even than the kids' backgrounds, makes the biggest difference. If your teacher is fun, smart, engaging, can talk to his/her students on their level without coming off dumb or trying to hard - those kids will eat out of his/her hand. Of course, I knew this from my own school experience, but it's really amazing to see it at work. The highschool teachers coming through today were really good. Another thing I've learned is that if you challenge your kids, especially the younger ones, they will rise to the occasion, regardless of whether the curriculum believes they can. On Wednesday, I asked a class of nine-year-olds, "Can anyone tell me the name of the Egyptian cat goddess?" Their teacher, an older, probably jaded woman, piped up from the rear, "Um, they're only grade fours, you know," in an offensively condescending tone. I didn't skip a beat when I answered her with, "Actually, you'd be surprised to discover how much nine-year-olds know about subjects like Egypt, compared to adults." She smirked at me, but her face was wiped clean when one little black girl raised her hand and offered a tentative, "Bastet?" BINGO. Stupid teacher. It was obvious that she needed a reminder, but it was probably lost on her. I bet she can't even remember why she went into teaching in the first place.

Anyway, I'll wrap up now. I need a shower and my feet desperately want off the floor.

Have you ever done something for someone else, something that would mean a lot to them even when under normal circumstances you would poke out your eyes first? This weekend, I did just that. You see, my dear friend Ryan, with whom in the early years of our friendship we agreed to never talk politics, was running for the Conservative nomination in Peterborough. Are you getting the idea of where I'm going with this? I do love Ryan and though, in the past couple of years, our relationship has sort of been a bit uneven he has surprised me in the past by doing something special for me. I, having recently gained plenty of political/election experience, was invited to be part of his team, should he win. And, of course, I was also invited out to support him, even though he knew very well that I couldn't and would not vote for him. However, for a day, I could be a plant in the audience offering uber-Ryan-Conservative-support.

And boy did I fool the best of them. I waved my sign. I screamed like a banshee. I did the Xena yell. I heckled. Wow, am I a good heckler. And wow, was there ever reason to heckle. His name is Wayne. McConnachie. And he is a fundamentalist ultra-right-winged christian fascist. I booed him when he called homosexuals a-moral and unnatural (lots of other people booed him, too), I heckled when he talked about being pro-life, and as soon as he was finished ranting (or rather when he ran out of time) I began a huge Ryan chant. I rocked. Anyway, in the end, age won out and Ryan was beaten by James Jackson. It's Peterborough, afterall. A twenty-seven-year-old youngin' has very little chance of beating out a fifty-something man who's lived and been active in the community for decades. Sure, Ryan knew his policy and had real political experience, but we are talking about a place I used to call "Raisinville". Ryan made an excellent showing and proving himself to the Conservative voters. He'll win it next time. In the meantime, he's got four years to work on policy development where he can effect real change.

In celebration of the event, regardless of his loss, a bunch of us went out for drinks and dancing at Reiley's, a pseudo-Irish pub along the main drag. Next door/upstairs was the Junction, a dance club. In the end, only Ryan, his friend Kyle, Tanya and myself went dancing. I have to tell you, the Junction had to be one of the worst dance club experiences I've ever had. I did end up having fun, but it took a lot of effort because the music was awful. It was mostly the worst of mainstream hiphop with some limited dance music thrown in. I have never seen so many cookie-cutter people in one place, either. You haven't seen anything until you've seen hundreds of bland white people shuffling to hiphop, everyone wearing the same clothes, with the same hair, and the same type of dancing. Sure, there were exceptions, but in general, it was pretty sad. Lame, even. And the smoking - YUCK ! We'd thought that Peterborough has gone non-smoking, but it seems they don't actually follow the rules. There was bad ventilation and no fans so the dancefloor was a smokey, sweaty meat-grinder. Ryan got me doing some Mambo, which was a lot of fun, and it kept me at the club an additional twenty minutes, but honestly, after an hour and a half upstairs, I was done.

At one point, Tanya remarked, "You know, I don't know any of these people. I'd expect to see some faces that I recognise." My answer, "Tanya, everyone we know here is at home with babies." Sad, but essentially true. Next time, we'll go to the Trasheteria, at least the music is fun.

So, on a completely unrelated note, I had my first day of working in Education today. I was very nervous going in. I spent my ride on the Dufferin bus thinking about what I'd talk about in the Gold Room. As we prepped in the Studio before the classes arrived, everyone with their morning drink of choice in hand, I started to get nervous. Waiting in the Gold Room was nerve-wracking. I could hear the first class coming through and we (the other interpreters and myself) were milling around and chatting anxiously as we heard the tour coming closer and closer. Finally, the first class arrived at the station before mine and I knew it was showtime. Joe handed off to me and I started. Unfortunately, the first class through was a very unengaged class of grade nine art students - the ones who are taking it only because it's required for them to graduate. Things picked up from then on, however; the other classes being made up of ten and eleven year olds. The grade fives had great questions and with the exception of one unruly group, were very easy to control and talk to. At about a quarter to eleven in the morning, I suddenly realised that I was having fun ! And then it was over. We all went back to the Studio to debrief and sort out the bugs, but it seems that we all did a great job. Considering there was one unscheduled group of forty students, meaning we had to marshal nearly four-hundred kids in two hours, that's pretty amazing. I'm really looking forward to Wednesday when I'm back in.

I also picked up my schedule for Visitor Services. I thought that I might have some time off during March Break in order to visit my mother for her birthday and whatnot, but I only have two nights off. I'll go out to see her on those two days, I guess, but that isn't what I'd hoped for. Oh well. I've also learned something very important about VS. They actually do their schedules in advance, so if I want a vacation, I have to book in advance. Well, in advance, actually. Something else I have learned, I am not going to suffer a lack of hours over the next few months. Hooray ! It's all so very exciting.