I fought the blog, and the blog did not win. I've updated the entry about my day trip to Mission (the only exciting thing to happen in my life in the past two weeks...sigh) and fixed the photos. Check it out below if you are interested.

Instead of doing my own homework, I am, instead, trying to help a friend with her essay about Maya Deren, feminist filmmaker. Now, I might make a couple of enemies out there, but why does feminism always have to be so anti-male? It's a bit obvious and annoying. This friend, who is a good and nice person, has somehow gotten herself involved in the women's studies. To me, that is a YIKES! kind of thing.

Her essay is a bit of a mess. She wanted me to edit it for her on a sentence level. At this point, I'm still trying to cram her paragraphs into an outline which makes sense. It's kind of like working with a Laureate.

It rained today, so I did nothing interesting. I read everyone's portraits. We've all been bunched together, I see (James, Melanie, Angie, probably Kai, myself). Good company, I think.

Well, it's time to get back to Maya and her innovative film techniques which she used to subvert the patriarchy of Hollywood, and the sexist narrative structures of Hollywood movie storytelling. Needless to say, I don't think that this group would think that "Pretty Woman" was a step in the right direction.

Oh, now I remember. This afternoon was a bit of a struggle. "Breakfast at Tiffanies" and "The Bachelor and the Bobby-soxer" were both on. I've seen neither, but there were merits in seeing either. "Breakfast" was written by Truman Capote. Enough said. The interesting part? Seeing George Peppard without a cigar stuffed into smirking maw while he goofs off through yet another episode of The A-Team. I had no idea he had a career prior to that asshat show! "The Bachelor" featured the ever-funny Carey Grant in a movie with a plot so convoluted about nothing. So many good-natured, but creepy twists and turns (he's an adult who's forced to date a teenager).

Now, it's timet to get back to the feminist movie-maker.

Forgive me, blog friends, for not posting so often any more. With two works, and a school, it has become difficult to find time to post. Sure, I could stay up until the wee hours like some people,but I'm far too old and lazy for that kind of thing. And I feel so guilty because I berated someone else for thinking about dropping the blogging habit, and then I almost do it myself. Almost.

I'm still missing the Evil, especially on Wednesday nights (I miss your witty commentary), but what can I do?

So here's the blog from last week. Last Friday, my avid-gardener friend took a day off of her job of lying with numbers (tax season is over), to go somewhere remote and disrobe the forest of its moss. She does this every year so she can make the 20 or so hanging baskets for various lucky family members and friends. My mother happens to have the perfect sunny spot, so she's always the recipient of something huge and needy (to add to her collection of me and my dad).



The annual trek takes us out to Mission. It was a lovely drive. Here, we can see all the housing development. Pretty isn't it? So much better than all the tree-covered hills.







We drove for a while, with nothing but pretty scenery around us. Sorry about the crookedness of the photo...I was taking the pix out the car window.





You can see the town of Mission just beyond the railing of this bridge. Why do they put railings at eye level?



Just outside of Mission is a row of old houses. In their yards, there are these old rhododendrons. They must have been there for nearly as long as the houses. When it bloom, they are amazing. Please ignore the bit of trash in the corner. I wasn't about to get out and move it.



From there, we went to the secret location which is now sadly missing some moss. But really, there's so much of it. Still, it is apparently some sort of offense, so...you know nothing.



After that, we stopped by this bed and breakfast on the river which is really cool. I can't remember the name, but the house was once owned by the Pretty family, and it is...pretty. A golf course surrounds the bed and breakfast, which is in the main house, seen in the left side of the photo. Further to the left, there is a new little pub/bistro. Behind the main house, there are some cabins. And between the main house and the water, there is a pool.


This is the view from the main house, the pool, and the golf course. I consider it worth the drive.








Then we went back to Mission, where I refrained from buying the amazing "adult cool aid", which is little boxes of wine mix. Not only do they have "red" and "white" wine, but they also have apple, peach, cherry, and loganberry. Yum. I bought them last year as a gag gift for Mother's Day for all the mothers in my family. None of them made it. I was extremely disappointed.

Before we started back home, we also went to Ferncliff Gardens, where I bought my mother some dahlia tubers for Mother's Day.













Then we went to my favourite dairy for an extremely disappointing ice cream cone. I couldn't complain, though. The poor young girl behind the counter was so emaciated that she couldn't scoop the ice cream. I thought that they had heartier stock in farm country.

To keep you all up-to-date, the trip south on June 3 has been squashed on many fronts. My mother balked at the idea of loaning her car for the day. I had thought of looking into how much it is to rent one. I have one of those big Entertainment coupon books and there are coupons for all the various car rental places, so, it seems like it might be a viable option. But I waited too long to get back to the manager at the golf course, and he withdrew the offer. So I don't have June 3 off, and we won't be going south at that point (well, more south than our plans are going...this sucks).

Stay tuned for further details, and have a good Mother's Day.

So I got to DC early yesterday before class, and had to eat alone (you BASTARDS). It wasn't so bad. I got to read for a bit, and then Peter showed up. He was in a bad mood, and it was quite evident. He had showed up early to DC to buy his books at the bookstore, but hadn't checked to see the bookstore's hours. He was fuming. So we sat and talked for a bit, and then Hillary showed up to share some news that might have dispelled some of Peter's ire. She, too, had shown up early (but earlier than Peter) to buy books. She got into the bookstore, but their computer was down; they were only taking cash. So in the end, Peter wouldn't have gotten his books, anyhow.

We chatted with Hillary for a bit, and I found out something interesting. Peter went and interview with/for EchoMemoirs last semester. That seemed weird because I was sure that I had talked about my interest in it. I can't help but wonder if he heard me talking about it and beat me to it. It sounds like his interview didn't go any better than mine did, so, I guess it will work out in the end? Still, it seems like a weird coincidence.

Peter and Hillary had to go outside for a smoke before class, so I went up by myself. At quarter to 7, there was no-one else there except Sheila and one of the outsiders (you BASTARDS...where were you?) Luckily, Sheila was turned away from the door, and she had this poor woman cornered (Sheila had done the unthinkable...she had chosen to sit right next to this woman in a completely empty classroom that could seat about 30 people). Sheila didn't hear me come in because she was totally engrossed in telling this woman some story. I don't know how she didn't know I was there...her captor totally gave me a broad "Hi. Save me!" smile. I just smiled back, and sunk into the corner, pretending that I had to do the readings at the last minute (which I did, so not much of a stretch). I was just figuring out that Sheila was talking about her own story when she said "And then the character took off her hat, and shook out her long, red hair. And I was so surprised, because up until that moment, the character was a man. I HATE it when the characters do that to you..." She went on for a while with that tract of thought, and then lost steam. That was when she turned around and saw me. I rudely (I know) kinda kept my nose in my book and exchanged pleasantries.

So you can see how interesting it was later when Sheila had that little show-down with Calvin about writing entirely from fiction. If he only knew, but I guess that he will know soon.

Meanwhile, I still admire her absolute conviction in herself and her abilities. She's sure got a healthy ego on her (I don't mean that in a bad way).

On various blogs, I've proposed that we have a pre-class dinner meeting, just cause I have to eat and I have 2 hours to spare. Email me or call me to discuss.

When I got home from the golf course last night, The Breakfast Club was on. Glee! I caught the last half hour...the transformations, and it was transformative. I just love all the quaint edginess of my youth. The Judd Nelson "rebel" character (what was his role in the essay?) would just look angry and homeless these days. Molly Ringwald is still Molly Ringwald (geek with red hair). And where is Ally Sheedy?

Such an important film. I'm glad that I got to see it again.

I'm too tired to make any sense, and I smartly procrastinated the personal narrative assignment until today, so, of course, I'm blogging.

I forgot to sum up the entry yesterday about Friday. The deeelightfully kitsch soda shoppe was closed for a couple of hours on Friday (why?), so we decided to check out the new gelato place around the corner. Apparently, from the clipping on the wall, it was written up in The Province as one of the top 5 places for gelato in the Lower Mainland. Of course, La Casa Gelato topped the list, followed by Mario's. But it's nice to know that there is an option for people outside of Vancouver.

It's a nice little place. I think that they had 32 flavours. I had chocolote peanut butter, which was good because it didn't have that annoyingly gooey ribbon of peanut butter that usually runs through that flavour of ice cream. And I had the chocolate hazelnut (the name escapes me), which was equally good. And the good thing? No farts later.

So after the disastrous interview, I decided that the day was shot, anyway, so I phoned the parents to see if they wanted to meet for a late lunch. They haven't seen or heard from me much of the week. And they don't usually go out together (after 30+ years of marriage, there really isn't anything to talk about). I was thinking Tim Horton's, they had a different idea.

We went to this Italian/Polish place out in Port Kells. Yes, Italian+Polish. Also known as "health food store". There are all kinds of carbs on the menu, balanced out by heavy meats. Yay. The best part is that it's in a bit of an industrial area, so the clientele is really high-class. But, we're talking about perogies here, so I'm not going to argue.

As it always is with my mother, there was a bigger plan in store. Since we were so close to Fort Langley, why not stop there for dessert? (Well, because we've had nothing but carbs for lunch, so, why not add ice cream to it?) They like a little coffee place/soda shop that's on the main street of Langley. It's a modern interpretation of the olde tyme soda shoppes, complete with all the stereotypes and kitsche. Thankfully, they don't make the staff wear poodle skirts or something horrific like that.

But I really didn't want to pile ice cream right onto the log-jam of perogies in my gut, so I suggested that we stop by the antique mall for a peruse. You never know what you're going to find. As it turned out, I found a deeeelightful little cookbood courtesy of Time Life which I really wanted to pick up for Xine. Except my gag reflex took me out of the store too fast to pay for it. You see, the book, labelled "Variety Meats" contained too many creative uses for tongue and tripe. And unusually, the pictures were lurid and clear. Therefore, nausea.

The mother found a couple of books to buy, but got stuck in line behind an annoying couple who were apparently buying $600 of "antiques" which included two different styles of snowshoes and a toboggan. The problem was that their many forms of plastic payment kept falling through (ie their credit cards kept being rejected). I felt bad, because the shoplady was nervous about the transaction, but the husband had loaded all the junk into their car while the wife shuffled credit cards, hoping that one would go through.

Luckily, I don't have that problem. One card = one chance.

Happy personal narration, y'all.

Well, I had my interview today with Samantha at Echo Memoirs. It went horribly because a) there was no purpose to the interview (I had contacted her during the semester for Collin's assignment), b) I looked on the company's web site and there are probably 20 articles written about Echo Memoirs, so what could I ask?, c) I suck. So she gave me 20 minutes, and then an ultimatum: "You can ask me one more question," before she stopped the interview with a "It was nice meeting you" and a handshake, and then the door. Oh, well. It was an experience.

Now I've spent the last hour catching up with everyone's blogs, and watching movie trailers (thanks, jnadiger) instead of doing the homework for alive and for school. I'm sure that if I ignore it, it will all just disappear. I'll let you know tomorrow how that's going.

Just have a minute to post. The combo of being sick, having a 9-5, and a starting a new class has meant no time to blog. But someone's been busy. I hope that he doesn't hate me for the sick-induced, hyper-criticism of his blogging. Meanwhile, he's provided much to read.

I should be doing the research for the articles I have to write for Alive (it's a small "a", but I'm too lazy to do the italics). I have to write about glucosamine+chondroitin=good times for people with osteoarthritis in their knees...(by the way, people who say "artheritis" piss me off), and about Sea Buckthorn (I have no idea either, but it's apparently the cure for all that ails you). But instead, I'm checking into the blogs and seeing that I haven't posted in a few days. That's what being sick will get you. Blogless.

Some of you, and you know who you are, are going through some whiny motions about "I don't think that I'll be doing my blog anymore." Well, I'd hate to call the pot "Sara", but quit being a brat. I enjoy reading your blog...it's clever, well-written, and I get to live vicariously through it. It's infinitely interesting. It's a pleasure to read. And...don't make me beg. Just keep doing it, 'kay?

Someone has to. And James keeps posting boring stuff about Stephen Colbert (who isn't as funny as Jon Stewart. He just isn't.)

Speaking of absenteeism...where is Xine? She hasn't blogged since the shebeen. Come on you lazy-asses...get with the blogging. I NEED you.

Okay, that was a pathetic outburst. I apologize. Carry on with what you were doing.