The magic number

About a month ago I decided that this spring I would go rollerblading by the canal (about 5 minutes from my house by car) each day

• in which the temperature was 10 degrees or higher
• which was not raining (or threatening rain).
  

It was clear that my motivation wasn't high enough at that point in time because there have been a couple of days that fit that criteria so far in 2006. So my new criteria is this: I will go rollerblading each day

• in which the temperature was 10 degrees or higher
• which was not raining (or threatening rain) and
• which comes after March 27, 2006.

That should do it!

I have a feeling that date would have kept being pushed forward until the part of the year that is too hot for rollerblading and I'd be forced to make up a new goal. Fortunately my landlords were showing my apartment to potential tenants today between 5 and 6 so I had all the motivation I needed to get out of the house.

Once I got to the recreational path, I learned that 10 degrees isn't as hot as one might think. I'm not complaining about the weather, don't get me wrong, but I was sure glad that I still have my winter layers in my back seat because I soon realized that I hadn't really dressed appropriately. Besides the 3 sweaters I was wearing, I also needed a toque and gloves, which aren't so easy to wear with wrist guards. Good thing my arms are so small!

I must say that it was nice to get out and be active for a change. I couldn't go very far, and I'll probably feel it in those muscles reserved only for rollerblading, but it was great! I came home will all kinds of motivation which lasted until I turned on the computer. I guess the next decision I make should be to related to avoiding things I know will make me sedentary, lazy, tired, and mind-numbed.

Stupid zuma!

Intentional Stress

I'm a little ridiculous sometimes. Ok, I'm quite ridiculous a lot of the time. The specific reason that I'm referring to now is in relation to placing onself under intentional stress.

Yesterday when Darren asked me what I did with my afternoon the answer included some lesson planning with a colleague and Zuma, to which he replied, "I can't play Zuma; it's too stressful."

He's right. It's a very stressful game. The balls keep coming and a simple mistake screws everything up. There's definitely no relaxing involved in this game, but somehow I love it!

It's strange because I don't particularly like high-stress environments. Some people thrive in stressful situations. I remember back in high school Alicia saying that she intentionally would put off writing and essay because she wrote better under pressure.

I think there's an element of truth in that for all people. When there is a time limit or deadline, we lose the ability (not necessarily the desire) to procrastinate because we're forced to focus. Focus doesn't necessarily equal quality, but it does make production easier.

While it is true that I'm more motivated to get stuff done when I'm nearing "time's up," I can't say that I like it. Ideally I'd like to work at my own pace, enjoying the process of whatever it is. This often backfires, though. In the morning, for example, no matter what time I get up or how much time I leave myself to get ready for the day, I'm always rushing at the end.

Anyway, like it or not, I am intentionally putting myself in a position of great stress when playing Zuma. It's funny...I don't even understand the game, really. I don't know what the deal is with the frog or why the balls keep coming. In terms of rules and points, I have only been inferring (that sounds better than guessing) the way to score big and finish the level. As for strategy, well that's even more hit-and-miss.

Perhaps I enjoy the feeling of triumphing over the pressure-filled level. Or maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment. Who knows?

Warm at last

It's amazing what a nice foot bath will do for one's entire state of mind.

Usually when I come home from my morning ventures I'm generally cold all over but not incapacitatingly so in any one area. Today, however, I honestly couldn't feel my toes.

I think I may have been wearing a faulty pair of foot warmers because after the first hour I took them out and rubbed them together in hopes that they would get reactivated. But it didn't work and by the beginning of hour 3, there was no feeling left.

So I hobbled in the house, took off my boots, socks and top layer of pants and got the foot bath ready. A five-minute soak not only took the edge off, but it also gave me the motivation to begin the day's tasks. Well, it at least removed the dread. That's a big deal.

Thanks to my cousins for their thoughtfulness!

Free money

Tax time is a wonderful time of year for many people, or at least for me.

Each year around this time I get a warm feeling in my heart toward the government - whichever party is in power at the time. You see, it seems as though each March the government gets generous and sends me a small chunk of free money.

I usually have a good idea what to do with that money. Last year, for example, it was my champaign-birthday-eye-surgery fund. this year it has more to do with wedding/honeymoon expenses.

I don't think I'm alone in this thought process. On my way to work this morning I saw a sign outside an electronics store that read TAX REFUND = PLASMA TV. Isn't it nice that our national leaders buy us high definition televisions?

I do understand that the money I receive is actually the government returning the excess money that I paid them earlier in the year. But somehow it seems like a generous act to me each year.

I don't know why elections aren't held in the spring, right after tax overpayments have been returned. I think it might create greater sympathy toward the current party...at least from those who got refunds.

The joy of dwindling food supply

I think I've blogged before about how I enjoy it when my cupboards are getting slightly void. I know it sounds strange, but as much as I get excited about food preparation right after finishing a grocery shopping trip, I think I might get just as excited when another trip to No Frills is in order.

There are a number of reasons for this (or at least theories as to why I think this might be):

1. I am a terrible artist. I can't paint, draw, sculpt...visual arts and I simply do not get along. Or maybe I should say, the world prefers it if the visual arts and I stay away from each other. However, I am a creative person. In fact, I am an inventor (or an aspiring one). You see, I love inventing songs to help me remember things, I enjoy inventing fun new activities to help someone learn or practice something, and I get much pleasure out of inventing new foods. Ok, they're not really new foods, but new variations on foods. I think that's why soup is my absolute favourite thing to make - it's all about mixing stuff together and playing with the proportions until you come up with something that tastes good.
   
2. I hate making decisions. I am one of the worst decision makers that I know. I think there are a number of factors that come into play here: I want to make everyone happy, I don't want to be associated with failure, I can see the benefits in most options and I hate to miss out on anything. When there is less food to choose from, there are less options that answer the question, "What should I have for dinner?" That helps me greatly.
3. I am a poor judge of distance. What I mean is that my sense of distance changes according to my state of motivation. There are times when I'll suffer with light shining in my eyes because the light switch is just too far away. Or I'll curl up in a little ball because the blanket is on the other side of the room. Or I'll "hold it" because going to the washroom would mean walking across the entire apartment. In terms of food, the grocery store that on a nice, sunny day is only a 5-minute walk from my apartment suddenly moves to another city when I'd rather stay indoors. That's simply too far.

Whatever the reason, I'm getting a kick out of meal times this week! Hopefully they don't taste too bad, either. Darren's coming over tonight...we'll see how he likes the bare cupboard special.


Oh yeah, once I start getting paychecks again, I have a sneaky suspicion that Food Basics will return to its rightful location.

Dress for success

I have a new respect for all those who work outside. Mailmen, construction workers, meter readers...they're all amazing!

With the extended amount of time that I'm spending outside these days, I've become very interested in the weather. To be more specific, I've become very interested in how to dress appropriately for the weather.

I have no idea how I spent 3 winters in Saskatchewan without a warm coat. Ok, let's be reasonable - it's not like I endure the winter months in a sweater. I have outerwear that keeps me warm from car to building or building to building, but nothing to spend extended periods of time outdoors in. No ski jacket or pants, no good winter play boots. It baffles me.

Neither do I have rain gear. I know once upon a time I did have a pastel green/blue rain coat, but I suspect that sometime in the late 90s it was donated to the Salvation Army.

Anyway, I am surrounded by kind folks who have taken pity on me. It's understandable; I would feel compassionate toward a stick-girl huddling under her umbrella in pouring rain with water running from the bottom edge of her wool coat, or that same girl walking on her heels on a frigid day because her toes have frozen. Anyway, thanks to the generosity of my fine compatriots, I have been sporting the following of late:

• borrowed hot paws mitts, men's large size
• borrowed yellow plastic rain pants, securely duct taped in the crotch
• a borrowed white down-filled jacket with purple fabric with cartoon Inuit characters on the inside, including the hood
• hand and foot warmers, purchased regularly at Canadian Tire to help my once-fashionable (circa 1995) Thinsulate boots protect my feet
• all of this is covering the 3 shirts, 2 pairs of pants and knee-socks, and complimented by an unmatching hat/scarf ensemble

I'm quite a sight!

It's amazing what a difference being properly dressed makes on one's morale...and also physical wellbeing. Once I have money coming in again, I'm going to seriously consider investing in a good pair of snow pants and a winter coat - you know, the kind that keeps one warm.

It's raining gifts

The week that spanned the end of February and the beginning of March was Spring Break at the college where I work. So I decided to take advantage of that time and get a few wedding things accomplished.

The first major task was to make and send the invitations, which we did assembly-line style over a period of 3 days. By "we" I mean my mother, her friend, my sister and I...each helping out when she could.

The second task was to finish the scrapbook that my sisters had started for me. For my birthday, Alicia and Alaina (with Leona's help) took the pictures of Darren and I that had been blown up for the engagement and scrapbooked them. It was a wonderful idea and a wonderful gift, but the problem was: it was incomplete. I am not a scrapbooker but I was determined to finish the project, which we did...in only 2 days.

Now, I didn't have to travel so far to complete these projects; I could have found some people around here who don't mind cutting and 'ribboning,' but the real reason for the trip to Forest was the shower that Leona threw me. She and her friend Stacey invited over 60 ladies from the church - and my favourite cousins from London - and then (with my mom's help) hosted them all in their house. They took out pretty much all the furniture that wasn't appropriate for sitting on in both the living and dining rooms and then brought in another 25 chairs for the evening.

It was amazing to me how many ladies showed up, and how many gifts I received. I am now the owner of enough bakeware to make anything I ever wanted, enough towels to have guests over and even some items to make our new little apartment look like a home.

When I showed Darren the treasures, he was as blown away as I was. I still can't believe that people who don't even know Darren or me would bless us in such a huge way.

Of course, this generosity sparked a third project for the week: the making of thank-you cards. That task, although it did take 2 days to complete, was one that I was very happy to do, remembering the way that these people had given Darren and I a nice start on our new journey.


(On a related note: I have updated the wedding blog again. I make mention of this here because it's so rare an occurence that one may stop checking.)

Update

Things have been crazy lately. Here's a very fast update:

• I spent all of last week in Forest.

• Darren collected all the documentation for his MA application in 2 days.

• My Internet is not working.

• I'm on strike.

• There are still straggler invitations being dealt with.

• We've pretty much finalized everything with the hall.

• My TO DO list is intimidating.

That's it...that's enough.

Not enough time

I have a lot of dreams about work. I don't know why, but my students (both past and present) and coworkers seem to pop up in my dreams on a regular basis.

But this weekend I had my first dream that involved my future family. I think it was a combination of 3 facts: (1) there have been a number of "family birthday gatherings" in February, (2) Darren's and my great apartment search has officially begun and (3) I had just shown the movie Cool Runnings to my class on Friday. Let me describe the dream.

The scene is an island somewhere in the tropics.

Darren's sister-in-law and I were walking out of a house (presumably his parents') in which we had just finished a meal. "We" in this case means Darren's immediate family. Now, I don't actually remember seeing all of the members of th is group in my dream, but I knew they were there nonetheless (you know how dreams can be.)

Apparantly Darren and I were looking for a house to buy, but at this moment Christy (that's Darren's sister-in-law) and I were just walking. We stopped at a little vendor shop and without exchanging a single word, the desired package was handed to her and the money for it was handed back. Then they struck up a conversation like you might with a good friend. I thought we were simply stopping at a random shop.

Then we continued on our way and Christy pointed to a house and said, "You should buy that one." Here's the rest of the dialogue:

Larissa: I wonder how much it is.
Christy: It's got to be reasonable if it's on this street.
Larissa: Can I ask how much you paid for yours? (Apparantly Chris and Christy - yes, Darren's brother and his wife have pretty much the same name. One of their cousins thinks that's very courteous so they have less names to remember - own a house just down the street)
Christy: Practically nothing. Chris built it. It's not hard, if you have the time.

My immediate response was, "We don't have the time." At that comment Christy and I exchanged knowing looks and the conversation ended.

You see, time was not an issue for us, but because I knew that neither Darren nor I had the knowledge or skills to build a house...even a simple one made entirely of concrete. That's not to say we're skill-less; give us a month and we'll be bartering with the locals in their language.

But building a house is best left to professionals and those who read technical manuals for fun.

The invitations are coming

Vellum, what a funny word, but I know what it is...now.

I'm getting married in less than 3 months. Darren and I have slowly been getting things arranged. We've got a hall, church, attire, limo...but no guests. That is, we haven't invited anyone yet. So my task over the spring break, which incidently is next week, is to make invitations.

To that end, my friend Chrissy and I got together on Monday afternoon with an agenda: figure out what to do and how to do it, in terms of getting invitaitons put together.

There are so many possibilities when it comes to making invitations. That's bad for a terrible decision-maker like me. Darren's only input was, "Make it look like our reception: elegant and simple." (gee, thanks. As if I would 'ok' something gaudy or busy?)

So we went to a fabulous little store that sells custom rubber stamps and card-making supplies. The couple who runs it was so helpful and patient with me, a novice. I learned how to weave a ribbon so as to avoid tying a bow, how to invisibly adhere transluscent materials and what vellum is. I now feel prepared to get right at it...next week.

Thanks Chrissy, and thanks Duffy's.

Olympic confusion

I just discovered that the Olympics are on. Let me clarify that: The fact that the Olympics are on has just made a difference in my life.

I haven't been keeping up with the lastest from Torino. This is partly due to the fact that I don't have my TV on much of the time, and partly due to the fact that I simply am not crazy for the Games.

For the past few years, the Olympics haven't been sitting well with me. There's just something about them that bothers me. I'm not sure that I can explain, but it has to do with the general population claiming victory or loss for individual achievement.

I hear commentators talking about how a 4th place finish is a let down to Canada and that "we" should have placed in such-and-such a sport today. Who is this "we"? How is the failure of an athlete who worked for years (granted, with some financial support from "us") disgracing the country? Is that athlete trying to win a medal so he can show how great Canada is? Isn't it more likely that he's doing it for himself?

I don't understand why is it that no one (and by no one I mean the general population) cares at all about obscure sports like skeleton and speed skating until an event like this and then all of a sudden claim victory thr0ugh them. OK, what I actually don't understand is why this is considered normal. I know there are fairweather friends in all areas of sporting, (I will watch the NHL playoffs, for example, but not the regular season play) but can they really speak of victories or losses in the first person? I say no.

I don't really mind the international competition aspect of the Games - you know, the idea that countries are competing against each other in order to show their "supremacy". You'll notice that I never rant about the World Cup or World Hockey Championships - probably because such competitions involve only one sport and it's more likely that the folks who stop everything to watch are people who follow that single, well-televised sport year-round.

Don't get me wrong: I like the idea that the Olympics are televised so people can watch their friends, family or even acquaintances compete. I even like that fans of a particular sport can watch how the international competition is progressing. My problem comes when somehow, magically, I am in 5th place in terms of number of medals or I have had a disappointing day on the slopes. I'm not even competing!

Having said that, I did enjoy watching the glimpses into the women's figure skating competition that were shown on CBC this afternoon and I checked the score of the hockey game each time I walked past the library at work where the Olympic coverage is being broadcasted all day long. See? I'm not a complete humbug.


As an aside: Today's post on Darren's blog gives a whole new meaning to urine tasting...I mean...testing.

Sleeping is not always restful

Dreaming is exhausting!

Thrice in the recent past I've woken up tired. It's not because I didn't get enough sleep; I went to bed at a good time in both instances. The problem is that I had very long, intense dreams that seemed to use up my daytime energy.

The most vivid of these experiences was about a week ago. In my dream I was in a parking lot and witnessed a man drive away, leaving behind a credit card-looking pass that would allow me access into the parking lot at U of T. I proceeded to complete a number of sneaky events before I realized that I had to get the card back before the owner returned for it. But many obstacles presented themselves. (The details are a little foggy now...this was a week ago!) In the end it was revealed to me that the entire thing was a set-up by some people who wanted to kill that man. I woke up angry and embarrassed for being duped.

The first of this series of exhausting dreams involved my meeting a co-worker of mine in a mall with her two children and boyfriend. This dream took us to a number of locations in which much dialogue was exchanged, while all the time the question was burning in the background: "What happened to her husband?" I woke up concerned for the wellbeing of this family that I like so much.

The most emotionally tuckering of these dreams came most recently and - can you believe it!?! - I can't remember what happened. I have no frame of reference for the dream at all, but I do know that I woke up thinking, "If this keeps going on, I'm going to have to stay awake all night in order to have the energy to make it through my day!"

I know science will disagree with me (aren't dreams only fragments of seconds long, for starters?) but I know how I feel...regardless of how it actually works. I'm not sorry that I am remembering my dreams, but I wish that at least there was something that I could learn from them...besides don't take parking passes that don't belong to you!

Yes, I'm pathetic

I have a lot of issues. I know it. I admit it. I won't pretend to have it all together. If you and I ever have a conversation that goes beyond the surfacy acquaintance stuff, I'll reveal my crazy (well, as much as I think you and I can both handle.)

While I have come to terms with the fact that I have a long way to go before I can call myself fully functional, I'm not content to say in this place...usually. Darren tries to help me out, and he does a terrific job. I've come a long way in the past year, thanks to key events and key players in my life. But whenever we try to get past the next hurdle, it seems the same conclusion is always reached: I need a friend.

Don't get me wrong; I don't live in a people-less bubble. But it seems that scheduling issues always get between me and the women I know whom I love and connect with. We used to see each other at least once a week - for a greeting and hug, if nothing else - but that was before I started going to church in another city, a decision that I almost always think was the right one.

I realize that I've pretty much done this to myself. I also realize that if I did have a real, good friend that my problems wouldn't disappear, but somehow it seems like the best way to make progress along the road to "normal"-- whatever that is.

Sometimes I am surprised by the consequences that come with particular decisions. Who knew that deciding to get married would actually make me lonelier?

Home sweet relaxing home

My apartment is a life-sucker. It seems that the moment I walk in the "front" door, any hint of motivation leaves me.

My workplace is wonderful, but there are far too many interesting people there and I get easily distracted. Somehow it's always better to talk to them than prepare for class. So I got into the habit of coming home to work. That's fine in theory, but I always forget to factor in the life-sucking quality of this place.

Don't get me wrong; I love my apartment. (Especially the past couple of days -- my landlords have been gone!) I don't blame this lack of energy on these walls or this address. Rather, I think it's more of a "the day has come to an end" mentality or a "I'm now in the relaxing place" mindset.

I wonder if this is something experienced by the masses or if I'm especially vulnerable. Either way, I've got to either train myself to focus and get more done at work or not allow my home-mode to kick in until the evening.

_______________________________

Addendum - Feb. 9, 2006
Darren said he used to experience the same thing...until he designated a certain spot in the apartment the work area. There's now a mental assiciation between that space and productivity. The problem with me, though, is that all of my apartment is "lazy space"...except the kitchen counter/sink. That's where I'm most productive - washing dishes, making dinner. I guess what I really need is a to make the kitchen counter my work space. Man, do I wish I had registered for a bar stool!

The Art Gallery

Relief has come to me at last! After a very stressful week that began with a less-than-desired incident (which you can read about on the wedding blog), we've finally found the perfect place to hold our reception. I haven't been this relieved since...oh...November 25.

When Darren and I first got together, I distinctly remember commenting that there was nothing beautiful about Hamilton. He told me that there certainly were beautiful places and that he would show them to me. Slowly but surely he has kept that promise. As you can see from many of our photos (pretty much all taken somewhere in the city), there are lovely places.

Downtown itself, which I'm sure was once a spectacular cultural centre, is now pretty run down and scary. But amidst all that, there is a fabulous jewel which we have rented for our party! We love it, our parents love it, and our guests will be blown away. Darren actually saw it first because I couldn't make it at the time when we could have an appointment last week and he left thinking, "This is where we're going to hold our reception." I'm so glad he was right.

Things aren't finalized; we're still negotiating menu and budget issues, but I'm just so glad to have chosen (not settled for) a hall!

Bakin' a batch of frosted flakes

I learned how to make frosted corn flakes today.

We spent the last 2 days in listening class watching a program that explained how items are made and it caused me to realize how little I actually consider the steps and processes that go into the stuff I use on a daily basis. I've never been one for taking things apart to see the mechanics inside or for trying to understand the inner workings of...well... anything. I did pass grade 12 physics, but it's only because I'm an excellent regurgitator of information.

Incidentally, I am now also the proud owner of the knowledge of how to build a kayak, but that's a story for another day!

Back to Frosted Flakes: I don't know how I thought this cereal was made, but it's rather quite simple. Kernels of corn are taken, mushed up a bit, and rolled. Each kernel, now flattened, is baked until it becomes a flake. Then the sugar solution and vitamins are sprayed on and taa-daa! Frosted Flakes!

It reminded me of the Rice Krispies commercial a few years ago in which a man was interviewing people asking them if they realized that the cereal was made from rice. The question at the end was "What did you think it was made from?"

I knew Frosted Flakes were made from corn but I always figured it was a corn-something hybrid. It's a good thing we have the Discovery Channel!!

Incidentally (again), when I told Darren about my new knowledge, he just happened to be glancing at his box of Frosted Flakes. And you thought sugar cereal was only for kids. (I wish you were right!!)

Superficiality and photos

Saturday Darren and I had an appointment at the Bay in Niagara Falls to complete a gift registry. What became an all-afternoon task was a very trying, exhausting, and revealing experience.

It seemed by the look on the face of the registry woman that we are very disappointing. For our 3 hours of walking around the store scanning items, - after she explained to us that we would need about 180 gifts on our registry, give or take - we came up with only just over 2 pages of "stuff" that we need or want.

Darren said he guesses we're just not superficial enough for such a task. It's also that we don't need a lot of things. The registry's main job is to help us avoid getting duplicates of items and having to either regift or return.

Anyway, before heading to Niagara Square, we decided to go to Denny's for breakfast. This is where my day started to go south.

For those of you who don't know, I have a hard time making decisions. No decision is worse than (probably) choosing what to eat at a restaurant. It's not that I'm picky; it's that everything sounds so good that I can't make up my mind.

It's even worse when I see a picture. In fact, 9 times out of 10 I end up ordering something that I can see simply because I can see it. I can't really remember a time recently in which a trip to a restaurant didn't include a "Gasp! I want that!" (pointing to a menu picture).

It works with real food, too. If the wait staff brings food to a nearby table before taking our order, the chances of me changing my mind double.

So the reason that the Denny's experience was so difficult is that they have a fabulous, large colour menu with the most delicious food pictured. Even after placing our orders (not an easy task on my part), we kept the menu to drool over it a little more.

Incidentally, the food was excellent and despite the over-pricing and over-filling of the plates, I was able to finish my meal! Of course, it was enough protein to last me 3 days, but that's what eating out for breakfast is all about, isn't it?

It's about time!

Well, I finally did it - I finally updated the wedding blog.

This particular post was begun about 2 weeks ago. When I say begun what I really mean is that I logged into my blog, opened a new post, gave it a title and then saved it. I went back to it a couple of times, even leaving notes about what to write once, but it took until tonight to actually docujment our little excursion to the Hamilton Bridal Show.

There's much more that I want to document, but it's time for bed. At this rate it'll be another month before I update it again, but to those of you who are extra interested in the status of the Conley-Morris wedding plans I say this: keep checking. You never know when a little fairy has given me a hand (or a motivating kick in the butt)!

Bedtime blues

It seems it's my lot in life to be surrounded by people whose internal clocks don't jibe with mine. It's my curse. And it's very annoying.

There is historical evidence to prove this. In my teenaged years, I would get a spurt of energy when it was time to go to bed. I'd always want to talk to Alicia, but she'd be falling asleep and impatient with me.

With the exception of Ashley (whose sleep schedule would have matched mine exactly if I didn't have to get up so stinkin' early for work every day), I can't think of a single roommate that would naturally find themselves sleepy and awake at the same times as me...consistently.

Now I have the same problem with Darren. However, it's worse because not only does he get tired at different times than I do, but he's also a morning person. These people are so rare that I was beginning to think it was all a myth, but now I know: they really do exist.

Darren couldn't sleep past 8 am even if he tried and he feels the need to start his day once he's awake. He thinks it's strange that I can lay in bed, falling in and out of sleep until late morning, but there is very little I'd rather do on a Saturday morning! (Or any morning, for that matter!)

Perhaps I'm a little too sensitive to sleep issues. I say this because I always get emotional whenever I'm the last one awake. I hate it when people "fall asleep on me," albeit unintentionally. But at the same time, I hate falling asleep when there's stuff going on because I don't want to miss out on anything. Yup, screwed up...that's me.

I wonder if it's possible to awaken the morning person in you or (preferably) shift one's internal clock a couple of hours later...say, to Alberta time!? Hmmm...

New addiction

Grrrrrr....

That growl is going out to Christy Conley for having a Sudoku puzzle book on her coffee table.

Friday night Darren and I hung out with Chris & Christy. We had dinner, watched a movie and I was introduced to my newest nemesis: Sudoku. To be fair, it was Darren who picked up the book and began figuring out a puzzle, and no one forced me to give him a hand, but now I've got a new addiction to overcome. I can see how this has become such a fad.

Instead of walking away from temptation, I searched for and found some puzzles online. So I've been working away at filling rows and columns with numbers from 1 to 9. I'm sure I could find one with a nicer interface, but I'm afraid to go looking. I do have stuff that has to get done....

I can solve a medium puzzle in just over 20 minutes, and that's just about the same time it takes me to quit a Hard one. I thought that was pretty good until I discovered that the average time it takes to solve a medium puzzle is 11 minutes. Oh well. I'm just a beginner.

Just like I did with Bookworm, I can justify this by saying that at least I'm exercising my mind. But I'm also giving myself an excellent opportunity to practice the art of un- frustrating oneself when I try the hard ones. I guess it'll help me deal with intense emotions if nothing else.

And yes, I did vote.

What do you really want to know?

I'm at the point in the planning of the advanced course in oral communication (also known as level 5 speaking, but that sounds less offical) that I'm teaching where I'm working on the presentations. There are specific skills that the students have to have mastered by the end of the course, but the means by which they learn and practice them are not prescribed. So I've got to figure it out.

When it comes to picking topics for presentations or lessons in general, I'm usually at a loss. Students themselves usually have a hard time thinking of topics that are interesting and deep enough to create real discussion. So I look through resource after resource and then come up with something that I think is mediocre.

As a result, for this first presentation, I'm having the students, through thoughtful consideration, choose their own topics. I'm going to pose the following question: "What do you really want to know?" Their answers will then get fleshed out and become that which they research for the presentations.

Of course I have to do a sample presentation, so I've been considering what I really want to know. At this point in my life, I really want to know which type of vacation is the best and cheapest: a cruise, all-inclusive resort or a plan-your-own trip. I also really want to know all the benefits and drawbacks to buying a home vs. renting. But I'm not sure that my students are as interested as I am. (Oh, that's another of the stipulations. They have to choose something that they and at least 2 others want to know.)

So I've decided on something that I've heard students ask before. I'm calling it "How to Survive Winter in Canada: Strategies for Dealing with the Winter Blahs." Hopefully I'll be able to take some of my own advice, too!

Wedding planning reprise

I had a wedding-planning-free weekend and it was so nice. I don't think we can afford to do that again (and to be completely truthful, Darren did talk to our photographer) but I think it was necessary this time.

The end of last week I was feling under the weather. I wasn't sick enough to actually call myself sick, but I had that achey, sneezy, listless feeling of "oh no, here comes a cold!" After work on Friday I was feeling worse and dragged myself to visit with some friends in the evening...keeping my distance, of course. Then Saturday was a much-needed lazy day of napping, movie watching and all-around nothing-doing.

As it turns out, the only wedding plans we had intended to make fell through (the DJ wasn't available). But regardless, we're still plugging along, crossing items off the list one by one. Somehow things keep getting added to the list, though. More accurately, forgotten items keep getting remembered. Sigh.

At least I'm healthy now and ready to deal with it again. Darren's another story, though. Let's just say I'm good at sharing.

Bookworm took over my life

It's been exactly a week since my last blog entry. Where has the time gone? No, I'm not turning into Kari. I'd like to say that I've been busy this the first week of the new semester getting everything in place for the courses I’m teaching. But that would be a lie. The truth is that I've spent the last week playing Bookworm.

When it comes to video games, I have no patience whatsoever for the kind that involve role playing or blowing stuff up (or, incidently, hitting bystanders with a bicycle). I simply don't see the point. But I do love a good puzzle-type game.

I have had to cut myself off completely from Bejeweled 2 because I was spending more time playing than I thought was acceptable, and I think Bookworm is headed in the same direction.

Let me tell you a little about this game. It's kind of like an online version of Boggle, except the words you make must have adjoining letters. Once you make a word, those letters get eaten by the bookworm and new ones fall into the game. Sometimes letters that are on fire enter the playing area and if you don’t use them in a word before they hit the bottom, the library catches on fire and the game ends. The longer the word, the more points you get and the more likely you are to get a special, shiny letter, also worth extra points. (see image)

As you proceed through the levels, you receive a new title, ranging from Assistant Librarian to Bookwork Supreme. As far as I can tell, once you get to Bookworm Supreme, there's nowhere to go. You just get extra stars.

This past week I actually only played one game of Bookworm. In total I spent 11 hours and 32 minutes making it to Bookworm Supreme, 5-star. For those of you who play, that's 2 317 470 points (level 37). Somehow I just couldn't exit the game. I was driven to try to make longer and more obscure words. I was curious to see what new rank I’d get after passing the level. It was a mild addiction.

What a relief it was to see the library burn down Friday! I'm finally free!!

Getting ready for school (?)

I am officially at the end of my vacation. That's right, folks, Christmas is over; New Year's festivities are done and it's time to get back to work. Tomorrow I start teaching 2 courses (this will be a light semester for me).

Each class is at the highest level of our program; the majority of the students are heading off to regular college courses in September. It's my job to get them able to handle the oral components of college (presentation skills, understandable pronunciation, grammatical accuracy while speaking, being as close to native fluency as possible) and note-taking/understanding academic lectures. The fate of their academic careers in Canada rests in my hands. Not really, but it seems like it sometimes.

To prepare for this semester what am I doing this evening? I'm trying out my slow cooker! I mean, OUR slow cooker. Darren's brother & sister-in-law gave it to us for Christmas but it was quickly decided that it would be put to better use at my apartment.

I really do like cooking...to some extent. I love chopping vegetables and mixing stuff together. I like experimenting with ingredients (with some basis of what WON'T go together) when my cupboards are a little sparse. But I have little patience for watching food cook or ensuring it doesn't burn. Why didn't I get one of these machines years ago?

I'm hoping this becomes a fabulous time-saving tool for years to come and not something that I use for a time and then forget about. (...kind of like the breadmaker back in the 90s...) But even if the crock pot eventually finds a semi-permanent resting place under the counter, I'll at least have lunch for the next week!