Off to a late start, not only because of the ignoring of the alarm, but also because of a most excellent and huge breakfast at the hotel. It was also $20 for all four of us. Steve's 3 pound omelette was probably the most expensive, but had we wanted it to, it could have fed us all. Especially since it included hash browns. Being full lent to the "moving slowly in the morning" feeling for all of us, so it took a while to get on the road. Luckily it was not a hugely long drive that day, just a few hours with some stops for nice views. There were lots of nice views, so it took more than a few hours, but still not too bad. We went over the biggest bridge I have ever seen going into Oregon. It must have been a couple of miles long, and to make it even more fun, there was construction on it! Actually there was a lot of construction on bridges this whole trip, with one whole side closed so everyone has to stop a wait a bit.
We were very happy to get to Seaside, despite the fact that it was not Cannon Beach, as Katrina originally thought. But Cannon beach was only a few miles away, so easy to get to for us…but we decided on food first. This is typical of us. It happens when you hang around musicians. We had a surprisingly good lunch at a diner aaaaand then went to the fudge store next door. And then to the Taffy outlet. "Candyland!" it was called, with many many flavours of salt-water taffy. We bought…pounds…of taffy. And got our pictures taken with the Candyman! Cause we could.
I'm surprised we could move after all that, but we managed to walk back down the beach to our lovely avocado room at the Sandy Cove Inn. It was distinctly green and 50'sish. Which was awesome. It had a purple sparkly lava lamp. Which was also awesome. Just ask Steve.
Cannon beach was neat, though the tide was too far in to get out to the really great tidal pools, we still enjoyed walking in the surf, and watching people fly all sorts of interesting kites. And all sorts of interesting dogs. Well, the dogs weren't flying, but they almost were with happy doggy fun as they ran through the waters. We went back into the little town and discovered it to be mostly closed but found one interesting shop full of interesting clothing that we all liked, but only Katrina was successful in finding something to suit her. Although, I think her success was enough for all of us, since her…"garment"…was kind of 6 in 1.
Then came Dinner. It was a Delight.
We actually just wanted coffee…but it turned out the coffee shop closed in the afternoon and turned into an Irish restaurant for dinner. Then we saw what people were eating, and decided to come back when we were hungry. Again, we made a good food decision. The place had only been open a couple of months, but our waiter was the husband of the chef, who apparently had "decided to take some time off fine dining" to open this place. Well, a soup and a salad, a lamb stew, a pork chop, some curried mussels and a LOT of irish soda bread later, we were very glad she had made that decision. Nom.
Then back to the hotel for more wine, as seems to be our nightly custom.
Aaand up in the morning for more driving, which seems to be our morning custom.
It wasn't a hugely long drive to our next stop at the famous Tillamook dairy. This wasn't our final destination, but it was definitely a stop. And a half. Or maybe a half-and-half? Whatever kind of stop, it was one we had been looking forward to. There was cheese. And there was more cheese. And ice cream. Ice cream such I have never had before. It tasted of cream and caramel and deliciousness. The cheese was ok too. Hah! It was also amazing. We bought some habanero jack cheese to take with us to go with the ubiquitous evening wine later on.
But then we stopped at Blue Heron cheese, which was an import place where we tasted more heaven in the form of several kinds of brie. Of course, we couldn't say no to that, so we bought some smoked brie and baguette to be our lunch later on.
At this point, one has to wonder "Will she eat anything at all other than dairy today?"
Not the best idea for someone who is slightly allergic/lactose intolerant. But I LOVE CHEESE!!!
Ahem. Anyways...
After we finished with our cheesy adventures, we took the Three Capes scenic drive. Instead of following the highway down, it follows the coast directly - you guessed it - around three capes. It is long and windy and scenic. We stopped at each cape for some scenic pictures, then continued on the scenic drive to the next scenic viewpoint. It was very scenic.
Okay maybe I sound a little sarcastic, but don't get me wrong - I love the coast, and the ocean and trees and scenery. So it was really nice. There was just…a rather…lot of it…all…at once. Or maybe I was just still tired and therefore ornery. I don't see how, when I still was sleeping in the car all the time. Maybe it was getting woken up all the time that made me less than my usual chipper self. It was like constant morning, and a morning person, I am not.
The third cape was a real surprise for us. It was a busy little town, with a very busy beach that had lots of kids and dogs and sand castles and happiness. Maybe it was also the fact that the sun was kind of out for once. I picked up a tomato and avocado (Gasp in shock!) to go on our smoked brie baguettes. We found a lovely rock on which to have our picnic, and enjoyed lunch, while trying to keep it away from a very happy curious and probably hungry dog. And we saw a seal lying on the rock! It was alone and looked rather sad and tired. We asked later and it was apparently not even full grown, so hopefully it was not sick or lost. The parks guy with the bullhorn on his truck keeping people away from it didn't know either.
We also saw what appeared at first to be annoyingly obnoxious boats blasting their horns while driving at full speed towards the beach. But it soon became apparent that this was a standard practice to get the boats back on the beach without hitting small children. All in all, an entertaining lunch, but we weren't done with this beach just yet.
We had to go to the hill.
Did I forget to mention the other highlight of this stop? At the end of the beach, near where we ate, there was a HUGE hill of sand that was very very steep. At the top there were some trees and it gave way to a rocky cliff from which there were some more scenic views of the ocean, but it was the hill itself that caught our attention. And the kids running/sliding/wiping out/rolling down it. The shallower section of slope was probably 45 degrees. The steeper part, more like 60. Katrina and I looked at each other and said "Let's do it!"
We ran up the hill. Or rather, the first 30 feet of it. Then we walked. Then we crawled. It was one of the toughest climbs I've ever done, but we kept going. And then ran down. And nothing I say here, even if I say it ALL IN CAPS HOW AWESOMELY FUN THIS WAS WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! The point will never really get across.
And then we did it again!
I wished that I hadn't just eaten, that we had more time, that maybe I was 9 again, because I could have done that all day! But then, we had to get back into the car, but happily, refreshed, and filled yet again, with cheese.
More driving, more winding roads, more ocean, more driving, more sleep. There was a shopping stop at a little glassworks place, where we all bought stuff that was hugely cheaper than can be found in Victoria. Then more driving and more sleep. We finally made it to Reedsport, where we had our biggest hotel room thus far. It was an extra $10 to get the "suite" which was twice the size, and had a couch, bar, fridge, etc…an excellent place to have one more bottle of wine and …somehow refrain from eating our cheese with it. I also managed to avoid cheese (don't ask me how!) at the mexican restaurant where we had dinner. It was another excellent meal - definitely authentic and HUGE portions. Tastiness. I was happy.
It was a nice couple of days. Nothing particularly…eventful, but great anyways. And probably for the best, since we were looking forward to one of the big "events" of the trip, which was to happen the next morning.
But that goes on the next post!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Vacation Day 1: Having things inserted into your mouth is not the most pleasant way to be woken up. Though having said thing be tasty chocolate helps.
I didn't sleep last night. Was too busy visiting friends and meeting a fiance to get home early enough to pack before needing to leave at 4:30am. I was determined to stay awake on the ferry to Port Angeles, just because it's a different ferry going the opposite direction that I usually go. I failed miserably, hence being woken up by Katrina putting a piece of mint chocolate in my mouth. Apparently it was open. Apparently I should expect such things when travelling with my chosen accomplices.
Turned out not to matter that I slept, since there wasn't anything to see. Except a lot of water. Both in the ocean and the sky, but mostly suspended in between, blocking the view of everything. We arrived shortly after my sleep was disturbed by a ferry employee coming our little seating area and saying "Apparently we are in Port Angeles Bay." To which my only response was "Apparently we are in a fog bank."
Luckily, our first stop was a hike on Hurricane Ridge, and we ascended above most of the cloud. My temporary narcolepsy ensured I missed most of that 17 mile road. When we got to the top, it was a gorgeous day with incredible views of mountains in every direction. There were also views of very tame deer in the parking lot. The hike was pretty nice, but not too strenuous. There was snow, and lots of trees and wildlife. (For a complete listing, see Appendix A.) I brushed up on my sub-alpine vegetation, and learned to recognize some new types too. One of the neatest parts was when we followed the trail along the top of the ridge, and there was a warm wind blowing from inland which alternated with a cool breeze from the water. If we looked towards the ocean we could actually see Victoria and Sooke! Or at least some fog where Victoria is…
If we looked in the other direction, we saw the road we had driven up, and there were a few sights to see there. Very happy motorcyclists were one. There were both very happy and very unhappy cyclists on the road, depending on which direction they were going. Some of the cyclists we had seen on the ferry earlier like the guy Steve christened "Ugly Shorts". We also saw some more than slightly stupid tourists getting out of their cars to look at the bears. Wait, bears!? Yeah! We saw bears! A mother and cub black bear crossed the road as we were watching from the ridge, and that was really neat. Don't see those too often, and we're glad we saw them from that far away, even though it was slightly worrying to know that they were going in the direction of the trail we were on.
We also saw a raven. Well, we saw several, but this particular was talking, and Katrina decided to talk back. There was some discussion for a few minutes until the raven got a disgusted look on its face, and with one last contemptuous caw, flew off in a huff.
The trail was a really long one, but we had decided to not do the whole 4 miles out and 4 miles back, since we needed to get going. We did start getting the "just one more peak" syndrome going on, but we eventually stopped when we saw the one we dubbed Mt. Steve. When we turned around and started walking back there were a whole lot more people on the trail, and significantly fewer deer in the parking lot. A good thing to have gone so early in the morning.
On our way back down the road, I could see why the cyclists and motorcyclists were so happy. A very nice road, and steep so there was no need to pedal to get up to extraordinarily high speeds. It looked like more fun than being in the car.
But I could sleep in the car.
After a lunch of the MOST AMAZING SUBWAY SANDWICH EVER in Port Angeles (It was UltimateTurkey Bacon Avocado. I can't believe they don't have it in Canada.) I got in the car and woke up at the Hot Springs. They were…very nice. It was still sunny and the pools were hot, and there was a cold pool too, and room to sunbathe and…it was a happy couple of hours spent. It's the kind of happy that deserves more words, but doesn't need them, so I'll leave it at that.
At our next stop, we followed the trail of despair down to the abyssal beach in the cove of ruin. We stopped to take a picture under the tree of evil.
Actually it was called Ruby beach, and although it didn't look rubyish at all, it was still very cool. Breaking waves over jagged rocks was a highlight. So were the incredibly smooth stones that were so much fun to skip across the creek. We walked down the sand and I enjoyed the mist and the water and the rocks for a while. Karen didn't walk as far, and when we got back to her, we found out why: she had been watching some otters! There were 4 or so of them, and the adults went off after a bit, and left he 2 young ones playing on one little rock island. They were incredibly cute little water rats, slithering in and out of the ocean, and just generally being adorable.
Does that sound like a full enough day? Pretty much. We headed for our destination: Pacific Beach Navy Resort. It was 8pm by then, and definitely time for dinner. We had an hour and enjoyed it with some pretty good food, and a most excellent waiter named Kirk who appreciated and even shared our silly sense of humour. Of course, he couldn't really give us a good wine recommendation, but we could hardly hold that against him when he had just carded us and told us he was 20. Right. American drinking laws.
You think I slept enough in the car? Nah, still slept most awesomely. And didn't hear the alarm the next morning. Which was okay, because everyone who heard it, ignored it anyways. A most excellent way to start a vacation.
Appendix A:
Ravens, chipmunks, bumblebees, red-tailed hawk, tree swallows, house finches, robins, Oregon juncos, deer, black bear (and cub) western hemlock, douglas fir, cedars, yarrow, magenta paintbrush, indian paintbrush, alpine lilies, dandelions, bluebells, lupins, sickle-top lousewort, red mountain heather.
Turned out not to matter that I slept, since there wasn't anything to see. Except a lot of water. Both in the ocean and the sky, but mostly suspended in between, blocking the view of everything. We arrived shortly after my sleep was disturbed by a ferry employee coming our little seating area and saying "Apparently we are in Port Angeles Bay." To which my only response was "Apparently we are in a fog bank."
Luckily, our first stop was a hike on Hurricane Ridge, and we ascended above most of the cloud. My temporary narcolepsy ensured I missed most of that 17 mile road. When we got to the top, it was a gorgeous day with incredible views of mountains in every direction. There were also views of very tame deer in the parking lot. The hike was pretty nice, but not too strenuous. There was snow, and lots of trees and wildlife. (For a complete listing, see Appendix A.) I brushed up on my sub-alpine vegetation, and learned to recognize some new types too. One of the neatest parts was when we followed the trail along the top of the ridge, and there was a warm wind blowing from inland which alternated with a cool breeze from the water. If we looked towards the ocean we could actually see Victoria and Sooke! Or at least some fog where Victoria is…
If we looked in the other direction, we saw the road we had driven up, and there were a few sights to see there. Very happy motorcyclists were one. There were both very happy and very unhappy cyclists on the road, depending on which direction they were going. Some of the cyclists we had seen on the ferry earlier like the guy Steve christened "Ugly Shorts". We also saw some more than slightly stupid tourists getting out of their cars to look at the bears. Wait, bears!? Yeah! We saw bears! A mother and cub black bear crossed the road as we were watching from the ridge, and that was really neat. Don't see those too often, and we're glad we saw them from that far away, even though it was slightly worrying to know that they were going in the direction of the trail we were on.
We also saw a raven. Well, we saw several, but this particular was talking, and Katrina decided to talk back. There was some discussion for a few minutes until the raven got a disgusted look on its face, and with one last contemptuous caw, flew off in a huff.
The trail was a really long one, but we had decided to not do the whole 4 miles out and 4 miles back, since we needed to get going. We did start getting the "just one more peak" syndrome going on, but we eventually stopped when we saw the one we dubbed Mt. Steve. When we turned around and started walking back there were a whole lot more people on the trail, and significantly fewer deer in the parking lot. A good thing to have gone so early in the morning.
On our way back down the road, I could see why the cyclists and motorcyclists were so happy. A very nice road, and steep so there was no need to pedal to get up to extraordinarily high speeds. It looked like more fun than being in the car.
But I could sleep in the car.
After a lunch of the MOST AMAZING SUBWAY SANDWICH EVER in Port Angeles (It was UltimateTurkey Bacon Avocado. I can't believe they don't have it in Canada.) I got in the car and woke up at the Hot Springs. They were…very nice. It was still sunny and the pools were hot, and there was a cold pool too, and room to sunbathe and…it was a happy couple of hours spent. It's the kind of happy that deserves more words, but doesn't need them, so I'll leave it at that.
At our next stop, we followed the trail of despair down to the abyssal beach in the cove of ruin. We stopped to take a picture under the tree of evil.
Actually it was called Ruby beach, and although it didn't look rubyish at all, it was still very cool. Breaking waves over jagged rocks was a highlight. So were the incredibly smooth stones that were so much fun to skip across the creek. We walked down the sand and I enjoyed the mist and the water and the rocks for a while. Karen didn't walk as far, and when we got back to her, we found out why: she had been watching some otters! There were 4 or so of them, and the adults went off after a bit, and left he 2 young ones playing on one little rock island. They were incredibly cute little water rats, slithering in and out of the ocean, and just generally being adorable.
Does that sound like a full enough day? Pretty much. We headed for our destination: Pacific Beach Navy Resort. It was 8pm by then, and definitely time for dinner. We had an hour and enjoyed it with some pretty good food, and a most excellent waiter named Kirk who appreciated and even shared our silly sense of humour. Of course, he couldn't really give us a good wine recommendation, but we could hardly hold that against him when he had just carded us and told us he was 20. Right. American drinking laws.
You think I slept enough in the car? Nah, still slept most awesomely. And didn't hear the alarm the next morning. Which was okay, because everyone who heard it, ignored it anyways. A most excellent way to start a vacation.
Appendix A:
Ravens, chipmunks, bumblebees, red-tailed hawk, tree swallows, house finches, robins, Oregon juncos, deer, black bear (and cub) western hemlock, douglas fir, cedars, yarrow, magenta paintbrush, indian paintbrush, alpine lilies, dandelions, bluebells, lupins, sickle-top lousewort, red mountain heather.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Oblivion, thy name is Roommate.
Yesterday, I cleaned ALL THE THINGS.
I go on cleaning binges once in a (very long) while, and when I get started, I just keep going. I got through the dishes, counter, stove, sweeping and was halfway through scrubbing the floor when my roommate woke up.
Roommate: Wow, you're amazing!
Me: I'm cleaning!
Roommate: You're amazing!
Me: Could you contribute, by perhaps taking the bottles to the bottle depot, since you have a car and that would suck on my bike?
Roommate: Sure! I'm going out anyways.
Excellent start to the day. It continued with laundry, vacuuming, putting roommates stuff in a pile, cleaning my room and my bathroom.
Then I was free. Went out for dinner with friends. It was nice.
Fast forward to 10pm. I get home.
Me: Hi Roommate! Wow, what smells like burning?
Roommate: It shouldn't smell like burning, I only put it in 5 minutes ago...
Me: Are you...cooking??
Roommate: Yeah it's a pizza a bought a while back and had in the freezer. Would you like some?
Me: Oh. No thanks. Just ate.
Roommate: By the way, great job cleaning! Everything looks awesome!
Skip ahead a few more hours to this morning.
I get up, go to the kitchen to make my breakfast. And there are things. All over my counter.
Now it's not as though there was a huge mess or anything, but it just happened to be spread out over all the available space: a cutting board covered in crumbs and knife beside the stove, a plate and cup beside the sink. A little plastic tab seal that you pull out of a new juice container in the middle of the other counter. And a loaf of bread (which is not unusual) and carton of eggs (which is...especially in summer) on the other side.
Now, it's not as though this is all completely terrible. I just can't comprehend how someone could comment so enthusiastically on all my cleaning and then forget all these....things! All over the place!
Of course, since Roommate only seems to cook about once a month, I guess it might be pretty easy...
Irony. Ur doin it right.
I go on cleaning binges once in a (very long) while, and when I get started, I just keep going. I got through the dishes, counter, stove, sweeping and was halfway through scrubbing the floor when my roommate woke up.
Roommate: Wow, you're amazing!
Me: I'm cleaning!
Roommate: You're amazing!
Me: Could you contribute, by perhaps taking the bottles to the bottle depot, since you have a car and that would suck on my bike?
Roommate: Sure! I'm going out anyways.
Excellent start to the day. It continued with laundry, vacuuming, putting roommates stuff in a pile, cleaning my room and my bathroom.
Then I was free. Went out for dinner with friends. It was nice.
Fast forward to 10pm. I get home.
Me: Hi Roommate! Wow, what smells like burning?
Roommate: It shouldn't smell like burning, I only put it in 5 minutes ago...
Me: Are you...cooking??
Roommate: Yeah it's a pizza a bought a while back and had in the freezer. Would you like some?
Me: Oh. No thanks. Just ate.
Roommate: By the way, great job cleaning! Everything looks awesome!
Skip ahead a few more hours to this morning.
I get up, go to the kitchen to make my breakfast. And there are things. All over my counter.
Now it's not as though there was a huge mess or anything, but it just happened to be spread out over all the available space: a cutting board covered in crumbs and knife beside the stove, a plate and cup beside the sink. A little plastic tab seal that you pull out of a new juice container in the middle of the other counter. And a loaf of bread (which is not unusual) and carton of eggs (which is...especially in summer) on the other side.
Now, it's not as though this is all completely terrible. I just can't comprehend how someone could comment so enthusiastically on all my cleaning and then forget all these....things! All over the place!
Of course, since Roommate only seems to cook about once a month, I guess it might be pretty easy...
Irony. Ur doin it right.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
I went to church today...
Today I found myself soul-weary and all strung-out, distracted and maybe just a little discombobulated. Family and long-time friends were unavailable (no offense to the most excellent friends I did have around, but you are all still too new for me to put you through my stupidies idiosyncracies) so I did something other people often do for this kind of sickness. I went to church, for the first time in a very long while.
Unfortunately, for lack of camping equipment and vehicle, my chosen places of worship were inaccessible. Thankfully there were other places nearby where I could find what I needed: my mountains and ocean and some solitude. I put on my walking sandals and half an hour later, there I was - sitting on a rock with my feet in the salt water and suddenly, life was a little better.
I mean, how could it not be? On a warm rock, with cool water; the sun hot on one side of my face with the wind brushing the other; seeing the sparkling reflection of the evening sun on the waves with the sound of them all around me. Those waves wash everything away. Even my barnacle-scraped toe was healed up by the time I got up.
Because the ocean is alive, you know; you can see it breathe as the waves curl up around the rocks. The regular breaths that keep things alive, with the occasional deep inhalation that submerges more of the rock and makes tidal pools disappear momentarily.
I love tidal pools. It didn't take me long to find a really neat one. It was maybe 10 inches long and 5 deep and had a dozen anemones, a few crabs, with the usual array of hermit crabs and barnacles. It was the perfect time of day to watch the miniature ecosystem at feeding time. One of the crabs was tiny - smaller than than very large barnacle right beside it! The large barnacles did not seem to be eating very much, but the tiny ones were almost continuously extending their feathered legs to catch whatever microscopic organisms were on the menu. I wondered if they needed to eat more often because they had a lot of growing to do, or just that because they couldn't reach as far, they had more competition.
Another pool had a far more aggressive breed of hermit crab. These guys were not the tiny ones I saw before, but were bigger - some almost as big as a quarter - with vicious looking yellow stripes and surprising amount of speed. They really dug into whatever they were eating, and a couple of them decided to attack each other at one point. "EXTREME HERMIT CRAB FIGHTING" came to mind. I thought it was pretty cool, but the rockfish seemed far less impressed.
After a few more tidal pools, I waded around and climbed to another, less protected area to sit on a significantly higher rock and watch the significantly higher waves. The tide must have been coming in because the heaving ocean created some impressive spray. I sat there for hours, just watching the waves come in and get sucked back out. If I really watched for it, I could see the interference patterns as the waves coming in crossed with ones that had already hit the rocks. Physics is beautiful. The world is beautiful.
A friend recently asked me whether I would miss the oceans or mountains more if I had to move away. My first thought was that I couldn't choose, but then I got to thinking that it might be mountains. Pictures of sandy beaches never did much for me, but I love mountain ranges. I've also always felt at home when in the Rockies, while the Prairies absolutely give me the heebie-jeebies.
But as per usual, my first impression was the right one. I can't choose. Growing up on the west coast, the two are inextricably linked to me. Take away the mountain rock and the coast is just...long and sandy. But without the ocean? Without the waves crashing around those rocks? Without that...life? It wouldn't be right either. Might as well make it a holy trinity and add forests. I can't live without those, and no that's not blasphemy, dammit. I live very close to heaven on earth and I doubt anyone who's spent any time at all on the rocky shores of BC will disagree.
And so, when I found myself at that most massive of cathedrals, I knew I'd be there a while. It's a growing place, a healing place, a place of life. The kind of place I know I need to go back to again, and again, and again.
What will I miss if I have to leave the coast again?
I'll miss being alive.
Unfortunately, for lack of camping equipment and vehicle, my chosen places of worship were inaccessible. Thankfully there were other places nearby where I could find what I needed: my mountains and ocean and some solitude. I put on my walking sandals and half an hour later, there I was - sitting on a rock with my feet in the salt water and suddenly, life was a little better.
I mean, how could it not be? On a warm rock, with cool water; the sun hot on one side of my face with the wind brushing the other; seeing the sparkling reflection of the evening sun on the waves with the sound of them all around me. Those waves wash everything away. Even my barnacle-scraped toe was healed up by the time I got up.
Because the ocean is alive, you know; you can see it breathe as the waves curl up around the rocks. The regular breaths that keep things alive, with the occasional deep inhalation that submerges more of the rock and makes tidal pools disappear momentarily.
I love tidal pools. It didn't take me long to find a really neat one. It was maybe 10 inches long and 5 deep and had a dozen anemones, a few crabs, with the usual array of hermit crabs and barnacles. It was the perfect time of day to watch the miniature ecosystem at feeding time. One of the crabs was tiny - smaller than than very large barnacle right beside it! The large barnacles did not seem to be eating very much, but the tiny ones were almost continuously extending their feathered legs to catch whatever microscopic organisms were on the menu. I wondered if they needed to eat more often because they had a lot of growing to do, or just that because they couldn't reach as far, they had more competition.
Another pool had a far more aggressive breed of hermit crab. These guys were not the tiny ones I saw before, but were bigger - some almost as big as a quarter - with vicious looking yellow stripes and surprising amount of speed. They really dug into whatever they were eating, and a couple of them decided to attack each other at one point. "EXTREME HERMIT CRAB FIGHTING" came to mind. I thought it was pretty cool, but the rockfish seemed far less impressed.
After a few more tidal pools, I waded around and climbed to another, less protected area to sit on a significantly higher rock and watch the significantly higher waves. The tide must have been coming in because the heaving ocean created some impressive spray. I sat there for hours, just watching the waves come in and get sucked back out. If I really watched for it, I could see the interference patterns as the waves coming in crossed with ones that had already hit the rocks. Physics is beautiful. The world is beautiful.
A friend recently asked me whether I would miss the oceans or mountains more if I had to move away. My first thought was that I couldn't choose, but then I got to thinking that it might be mountains. Pictures of sandy beaches never did much for me, but I love mountain ranges. I've also always felt at home when in the Rockies, while the Prairies absolutely give me the heebie-jeebies.
But as per usual, my first impression was the right one. I can't choose. Growing up on the west coast, the two are inextricably linked to me. Take away the mountain rock and the coast is just...long and sandy. But without the ocean? Without the waves crashing around those rocks? Without that...life? It wouldn't be right either. Might as well make it a holy trinity and add forests. I can't live without those, and no that's not blasphemy, dammit. I live very close to heaven on earth and I doubt anyone who's spent any time at all on the rocky shores of BC will disagree.
And so, when I found myself at that most massive of cathedrals, I knew I'd be there a while. It's a growing place, a healing place, a place of life. The kind of place I know I need to go back to again, and again, and again.
What will I miss if I have to leave the coast again?
I'll miss being alive.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Labels
Never believe a label that says "Healthy Choice".
Especially when you get home, notice it doesn't taste very good or healthy and check the ingredients list to find that the first few ingredients in "Healthy Choice" pasta sauce are tomato paste, glucose-fructose, corn syrup, salt, dehydrated onion, and sugar...
Especially when you get home, notice it doesn't taste very good or healthy and check the ingredients list to find that the first few ingredients in "Healthy Choice" pasta sauce are tomato paste, glucose-fructose, corn syrup, salt, dehydrated onion, and sugar...
Monday, July 19, 2010
How To Catch a Man
Overfeed him to the point where even if he tries to run, you will catch him.
No wait, that's not the kind of catching I meant...
Anyways...
I have recently decided that it is high time for me to think about dating again. It's been a few years - great years actually - and I'm feeling a little out of practice on how to go about this, so I decided to do my research.
It seems that one of the more popular methods is the miniskirt method. It goes as follows:
1. Wear short skirt
2. Walk around near object of intention
3. Wiggle appropriate protrusions (The question of T or A will depend on your own particular endowments and object's preferences - research the latter, if possible)
Another popular method, especially with the late high school to early university crowd is what I call the "liquid courage" method. It involves:
1. Drink alcohol
2. Make out
At this point there are variable outcomes with quite different degrees of success. Much like a choose your own adventure novel, your actions will decide the fate of this method. Some possibilities are:
3. Sex (which can lead to an even greater number of outcomes, with more extreme consequences, for better or worse)
3. Intense Awkwardness (which can also follow Sex)
3. Guilt and Recrimination (which can follow both sex and intense awkwardness)
3. Never talking to object ever again
3. Absolutely nothing
3. Smug looks from one or both parties at future encounters.
Now, neither of these methods seemed quite right to me. It's true that they work, and I have seen it and known people to have succeeded with them, but they are fairly hit-and-miss, with potentially embarrassing fallout.
At this point, I knew I would have to broaden my research beyond things I could see myself, and go to some legitimate sources of information.
Cosmopolitan had an informative article entitled "How to Win a Guy in 10 seconds" which might be useful. It included such tidbits as "Insult everything about him so he thinks you're better than him. That's a huge turn-on" and "Ask to borrow his phone then erase all the numbers but yours. He’ll know you mean business. He may be mad now, but he'll appreciate it later." as well as my favourite "Begin sobbing uncontrollably out of nowhere, and refuse to explain why. Men love mystery."
There is of course, one more way that I seem to hear about extraordinarily often, considering how rarely I've seen it or read about it. It goes as follows:
1. Talk to guy, tell him what you feel and ask him out.
Now, I find this to be extremely suspect. It just seems too simple. Talk to him? Be honest? That can't be right, or there wouldn't be so many sources telling us to do otherwise. What about all those magazines? Those helpful "Ask Annie" type newspaper columns? If it was so easy, why do we even need to ask? If it's so easy, why haven't I done it and why am I wondering about it?
Obviously, because it doesn't work.
This method is a myth.
Guess I'll have to go with the scientific method and try each way. Or maybe just feed everybody cookies until one of them is too slow to run away.
No wait, that's not the kind of catching I meant...
Anyways...
I have recently decided that it is high time for me to think about dating again. It's been a few years - great years actually - and I'm feeling a little out of practice on how to go about this, so I decided to do my research.
It seems that one of the more popular methods is the miniskirt method. It goes as follows:
1. Wear short skirt
2. Walk around near object of intention
3. Wiggle appropriate protrusions (The question of T or A will depend on your own particular endowments and object's preferences - research the latter, if possible)
Another popular method, especially with the late high school to early university crowd is what I call the "liquid courage" method. It involves:
1. Drink alcohol
2. Make out
At this point there are variable outcomes with quite different degrees of success. Much like a choose your own adventure novel, your actions will decide the fate of this method. Some possibilities are:
3. Sex (which can lead to an even greater number of outcomes, with more extreme consequences, for better or worse)
3. Intense Awkwardness (which can also follow Sex)
3. Guilt and Recrimination (which can follow both sex and intense awkwardness)
3. Never talking to object ever again
3. Absolutely nothing
3. Smug looks from one or both parties at future encounters.
Now, neither of these methods seemed quite right to me. It's true that they work, and I have seen it and known people to have succeeded with them, but they are fairly hit-and-miss, with potentially embarrassing fallout.
At this point, I knew I would have to broaden my research beyond things I could see myself, and go to some legitimate sources of information.
Cosmopolitan had an informative article entitled "How to Win a Guy in 10 seconds" which might be useful. It included such tidbits as "Insult everything about him so he thinks you're better than him. That's a huge turn-on" and "Ask to borrow his phone then erase all the numbers but yours. He’ll know you mean business. He may be mad now, but he'll appreciate it later." as well as my favourite "Begin sobbing uncontrollably out of nowhere, and refuse to explain why. Men love mystery."
There is of course, one more way that I seem to hear about extraordinarily often, considering how rarely I've seen it or read about it. It goes as follows:
1. Talk to guy, tell him what you feel and ask him out.
Now, I find this to be extremely suspect. It just seems too simple. Talk to him? Be honest? That can't be right, or there wouldn't be so many sources telling us to do otherwise. What about all those magazines? Those helpful "Ask Annie" type newspaper columns? If it was so easy, why do we even need to ask? If it's so easy, why haven't I done it and why am I wondering about it?
Obviously, because it doesn't work.
This method is a myth.
Guess I'll have to go with the scientific method and try each way. Or maybe just feed everybody cookies until one of them is too slow to run away.
Monday, July 12, 2010
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