Growing Up is Such a Dangerous Notion

My father once told me that I should never throw away anything I write, because perhaps one day it will come in use. He always said that using my creative mind and the products of it was never a waste. As much as a wise man my father is, sometimes it is really difficult not to just scrap everything in a flurry and proclaim loudly to the heavens "Fine! We're starting over! Again!"

Today, is such a day.

What is it about writing one day you truly love what you have done with your imagination and a few words, and the next day you think you were scrapping at the bottom of the proverbial brain barrel? Because seriously. I feel like that every now and then.

Did you know I have this magnificent world (well, magnificent to me) in my head. For the last, oh.. let me think, *Mumbles and counts fingers* 7 years this world has morphed, changed, apocalypsed, and come back together anew. Yet with the passing years I have visited it less and less. I have picked up a pencil and sketched out new thoughts with a dying frequency. I rarely seem to have time to quietly stroll through the Autumn lanes of my mind. Why? Because lately it feels like I have done an awful and dreadful thing which my father always warned me not to do.

I have started growing up.

And I do not mean in the way of, I grew up and learned to pay bills and work and take school seriously. No I rather think that is a part of becoming mature. No, no. Somewhere along the way, rather sneakily, growing up caught me. Or perhaps I apathetically succumbed to it. The jury is still out on that.

There were always points in your life where you had to mature. You had to learn to pay bills, and that not paying them meant no phone service. At some point you got a job and began working hard for money. You learn to take school seriously, because hey this thing costs a lot and education is important. I left childish things behind, matured, went to school, got married, and am trying to make a life for two. But nowhere in the Terms and Agreements for Maturing is there a clause saying you must Grow Up.

Although, perhaps 'grow up' is a poor term. I prefer, 'sold out'.

At some point we all stop being childish. If you don't, you have a problem. That doesn't mean we don't stop being child-like. Alive with that curiosity for the world. That ability to perceive and look at things in a light that no one else can. The wonder filled awe and things people would find simple. And the playful nature of living a day. I grew up as that child, the one who brought home a new stray everyday. My mother always said I kept her on her toes. I always had a new place or friend or story to tell her everyday. Even through high school, I liked to sit in the library and dream among books. The dreams of other dreamers.

And yet, today I wake up and I find that I have sold out, and grown up. I get up every morning and pull myself to a job I hate, but I do it. Why? Because of money. I go home tired and angry and occasionally get in a fight with my husband over things that aren't his fault. My garden in my front yard is becoming full of weeds. The house still is not unpacked. The bills still need to be paid. I still need to pick up this for my work. I have to hurry to catch the bus. Something is broken on the car, need to take it to the shop. We need to buy groceries. What to make for dinner? More like what is easiest to make.

My life has become something that I never even perceived of as a child: Mundane. Like the masses of people, my life is a day-to-day event. Just getting through one to get to the next. The thing that honestly bothers me most though is that I work for money. Which, I realize, sounds silly. Everyone works for money. But that is the only reason I am there. I truly despise that fact. There is no drive, there is no push to do better, there is no change, there is no challenge. There isn't even a chance to excel. Everyone higher than me makes it clear I am here to serve and this is where I belong.

In the chaos of living a life of the masses my daydreams slowly fade and become something put in a box marked "Things of Childhood".

But I don't belong here. Do I? Isn't there always a talk of working for something better? I knew it would be hard to get to the place I want to be, but I am not willing to sacrifice what I love about myself and life in order to get there. Otherwise once I get there, what will I have left? No story to tell. And that, is truly a crime.

Life should never be mundane, you shouldn't have to grow up and sell out. Life is meant to be an adventure, and at the end perhaps you shall have a grandiose story or two to share.

There is much I will sacrifice to get my husband and I through to a better time, but I will not give up who I am. 

We'll see how this goes...

So Owen and I kind of love this new form of photography that I stumbled across a long time ago. It's called Urban Decay. I asked around and not a lot people I know have heard of it, but some of my photography friends have heard of it. Most notably: http://www.hongkiat.com/blog/100-captivating-examples-of-urban-decay-photography/
and
http://www.thecoolist.com/abandoned-places-10-creepy-beautiful-modern-ruins/
but my most favorite is what one of my favorite bloggers posted
http://www.epbot.com/2010/06/urban-decay.html

So Owen and I have been discussing buying a nice DSLR (because he apparently knows how to work one) and going around finding these places we're both attracted too. He loves the history, I love the prospect of forgotten memories. There's something terribly beautiful about places that are is falling apart and forgotten. One place, that I always wanted to snap a picture of is actually in my hometown.

Now A) this is taken with my digital camera and tweeked, so it's not fabulous, and B) I am still figuring out water marks. So any suggestions or advice, super appreciated! 

Anyways, I wish I knew the story on it but my town records aren't exactly up on the net to look at. Along on of the many side gravel roads of my tiny town though stands this old oil well that has fallen into disuse. It hides between the grain elevators (which you can see in the background) and a high hedge of over grown bush. It's so easy to miss and so out of the way that no one notices it really. To me it just seems to stand a small reminder of Alberta's past. It seems so quintessentially Albertan with this rickety old oil well and the grain elevators standing in the background. 

xoxo

Dreams and Aspiration

I've had many Dreams
Of different things
Oh, the places I wish to see.
Of the places mankind makes
To what God creates
I dream to wander
Frequently.

These glorious wonders
I wish to share
To wonder with another
In a pair
Of wanderlust souls
We'd be.

Walking aimlessly
On an adventure
To us of grandeur
Walking towards the setting sun
And the last Great Unknown
Into the things we never Dared
To Dream

And on the 8th Day God Created

Owen asked me if this is really such a big deal.

To which I reply. If it has to do with Corn Pops then heck, it warrants its own blog post! 

My problem being this. 

Corn Pops are this magical cereal that delights my day. Besides being massively loaded with sugar, they're crunchy. I like crunchy cereal (yes this includes Captain Crunch. But that's my father's addiction)

And you look forward to the glorious moments when you get to eat your crunchy cereal. How it brings such a harmonious and joyful taste to the milk! It makes you happy, like the world is your oyster!

And then all of .02 seconds of sitting in the milk, they get soggy. 

This is my problem.

Could they somehow develop the wonderfulness of Corn Pop without it getting soggy so damned fast. The speed of light is slower than the speed of Corn Pop soggyness. 

It just ruins my day. 

And I'm aware this is a complaint post.

They happen sometimes. 

For some reason Corn Pops are what I chose to freak out about.

Stressed much?

You bet your bottom dollar.. Ugh.

xoxo

Upon First Sight...

Things weren't exactly true love.
Actually they weren't even love.
Well really... it was civil, and that's what counts! I suppose..
Owen says the first time we met was on my first day at The Museum. He must have made quite the impression, because I don't really remember (am I a terrible person or what?). I do vaguely remember the assistant education manager Deez saying "And this is one of our Mushroom Factory workers, Owen, he's the know all." And that's about it. Continue with my day, running around, trying to learn everything military and Owen the Collections guy was totally forgotten about.
Well except the fact that he was cute.
But other than that, nope, forgotten.
Not really romantic, huh?
Well that's what he says is the first time we met, and I know I ran into him more. Such as in the lunch room, or downstairs when getting something. Honestly, we didn't talk much for the first few weeks I was there. At this point in time I was going home every weekend and being homesick the rest of the time, as well as being a bit more than overwhelmed at work. See, I had no idea about the military really when I started working there, I was at square one. Or as the PPCLI called me, "civilian square one". It's true, and as much as I tried quickly to learn; I wasn't as fluently knowledgeable. Now all these circumstances (as well as my frazzled nerves) kind of led to my presumptions on Owen. Heh. See, during those first few weeks when my boss Lorna would send me to go get something from the lackeys downstairs and I happened to have to talk to Owen I would either get a raised eyebrow and condescending look, or complete disinterest. At least, that's what it came off as.
Now, this isn't to say he wouldn't help. As a matter of fact he usually did help, he was nice but he seemed stand off-ish. Like I was either wasting his time or he was irritated that I didn't know a whole lot. Mix that with how much he talked to Wally about drinking and clubbing and women, and I had myself a judgement. As far as I was concerned he was a drinking, womanizing, rude, arrogant guy and I wanted nothing more than to walk in the other direction and not deal with him.
Getting less romantic, huh?
 Problem with trying to avoid someone you think is a douche bag in a museum is that, well, it's small. You can't really avoid them. And one day I found myself tasked with a project to make...a mailbox.
I may or may not dub this mailbox as the thing that brought us together, because really, it just may be.
I was wandering downstairs because that's where I was told the shop was. Well I went to the wood shop and thought that cutting foam-core with a band saw was a bad idea and I knew that The Museum had a giant cutty thingy for it... somewhere. Within the deep abyss of the basement. No really, that place is a maze when you're new. So there I am, standing at the cross section of the loading bay, quarantine room and the hallway to the artefact cages. I am acutely aware that I have no keys and don't know where to go, or even what to do. I'm feeling more and more like an idiot, I haven't seen my family in a couple of weeks, I'm rather lonely, lost and have no friends in this huge city, I feel out of place and like an idiot because I don't know anything about this place.
All because of you, you nasty mailbox I started feeling like having a meltdown.
Lo, and Behold I'm standing there hugging my stash of foam-core when I hear someone behind me ask
"Do you need some help?"
I must have looked teary eyed, or overwhelmed, or like a lost puppy, or something because Owen's face went from his usual nonchalant "I don't give a damn look" to actual concern.
"I'm making a mailbox" I managed to mumble, feeling more an idiot, "but I don't know where they cutting thingy is."
I remember he looked like he was trying to hold composure and I couldn't help but scowl, which made him loose composure. And laugh at me.
"If you're going to laugh at me.."
"No, sorry, I've never heard someone call it the cutty thingy before. Very.. creative?"
The next thing I knew Owen was opening the prep room (Oooohhh, this is where I go), pulling the foam core from me, pulling out a measuring kit, glue gun and everything else I needed.
Okay, I thought to myself, maybe he isn't too much of a jerk.
As Helena would later put it "He's a jerk, but a nice jerk."
And so for the next two days I found myself downstairs trying to piece together this monstrosity. Every time Owen passed by the prep room he would poke his head in to see if I needed help. Usually he found himself holding pieces of foam-core together while I went at it with the glue gun. And so an unfounded judgement turned into a mutual acquaintanceship.
Getting a little better? A tad? Well, okay.
After that, whenever I needed something, or had a question, or was bored I would either end up downstairs in the Cages or chasing after the collections crew for help. Owen, after that, was a little more friendly to help. He had always been willing, just now friendly.
Walter had already shown me some of the stuff downstairs, but one day Owen grabbed the keys and just started showing me everything he could think of. That's when he found out how much of a geek I was when I started getting all *squee* excited, and I even played video games *gasp*. The look of shock on his face still makes me giggle.
Throughout all of this, any person could notice that I thought the guy was cute and a little nicer than I thought. But after having had a terrible break up and bit of a hurtful relationship the year prior, I was more than reluctant to open up to a new guy. So I promised myself I would treat him like a friend and only like him as a friend.
We can all see how that turned out.
One day, after I was done work upstairs I went downstairs to write up some data entry for the collections crew. Helena left early with a meow and skip, and I found myself downstairs with just Owen. The lights downstairs flicked, and with the concrete flooring and the metal cabinets making a maze it's a little scary. So Owen moved close to the front to talk to me. And thus we began talking about, basically, anything. I soon found out, Oh he doesn't really drink, he doesn't even like to drink. Oh, he believes in courting woman. Oh, he hates bars and clubs. Oh, he goes to school and works. Oh, he helps take care of his mom. Oh, he has a sense of humor. Oh, he thinks religion is a good thing. Oh... He's a total freaking gentleman.
*FACEPALM*
I'm an idiot.
And then he walked me home.
And kept walking me home.

I know some people can say that their relationship has a defining moment when they knew they were in love. With Owen and I though it just seemed to grow a little more over time. Amidst the dusty artefact's, the frantic running around, the precarious air conditioners, the rice pudding stand, the running kids around, the geese, the meese, the putting green, the medals, the Lee-Enfields, the leaning on the commissionaire's desk, the mailbox, the quarantining, and the geekery. I found this tall, dark and handsome guy with wire framed glasses and a crooked smile who had a quick wit and a sharp tongue, but most importantly, a kind heart. Which I couldn't help but open mine to.
Just don't touch the artefact's, he gets all uppity :)

Courteous of my glorious cousin :)
http://www.mandybakerblog.com/

xoxo
"Mwahaha! My plan worked!" - Deez

*The* Announcement

Okay so, I know I left everyone in the dark for a couple of days week. Sorry, but there's a lot of people to call. Like, more than I thought, dear goodness why are there so many of you.
Anyways.
*que epic music* (probably Clint Mansell, let's be honest here)

*~Spaaaarrrkles~*

I'm becoming a Mrs. Tooky!
He even picked the ring out himself. *sniff* So proud! But seriously, he did a good job I absolutely adore the ring. It's very turn of the century style, which, ya know, adoration abounds for vintage things.
Also, for those of you who read this blog, probably recognize the very well done nails. Yes, little miss Helena was there with us when we bought the ring. Granted, she didn't know she was going to buy a ring with us. No, she thought we had just come to pick up her shoes. Surpriiiiise.
Actually when we told her we got a reaction equivalent to this:

Followed by this conversation:
"I can't believe it took you so long to tell me!"
"You're like one the first people to know!"
"I better be!"
One of the many reasons I ♥ that girl. And then her and I *squee'd* over the ring and best part is I have someone awesome to do my nails for the wedding. Boo-freaking-yah!
Now.. A couple of things that are soon to come/change:
Firstly, I do realize people want to hear about how I met Owen. Don't worry, that geekery filled story is soon to come.
Secondly, the name of this blog may probably change.
Thirdly, I'm not going to be the only one writing in this blog. Yup, that's right, Owen is probably going to start doodling around in here too. It'll also help that he's computer savvy and can reformat my blog to look nicer. Yay.

Now I'm off! To the land of wedding planning >_>

xoxo

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return"
-Moulin Rogue

*Shoo Shoo*

So good news. My headaches are starting to go away!
Bad news, they're abruptly replaced by a huge headcold.
>.> You think you're funny body don't you...
But yes, cough cough, hack wheeze and all that fun stuff. This weekend was lovely though, I sat around and did practically nothing! I like weekends like that. Where I can flop down and just play video games for ridiculous amounts of time, yaaaays. Also, saw Harry Potter this weekend. Woah, dark. I went with my friend Helena and my boyfriend Owen, and we were all like "Uuuhhhmm, so not a kids movie"
And may I point out, thats what I like about it.
My generation is the one that grew up reading those books. They came out when I was like, 11? 12 maybe? And people my age grew up reading the books and watching the movies. So as my generation got older I noticed that the movies kind of grew up with us. They didn't stay being some diddly kids movie, they actually started to get serious. And I like that, I enjoy that they continually progressed as it's beginning audience got older. So that's why when I hear parents with young kids complain "it's not a children's movie" or "it's to dark, it's scaring the children" The chiiiiiiiiildren!!! I kind of want to say "it's not supposed to be for them! you're daughter was probably still crawling when I was standing outside of Chapters at midnight freezing my butt off so I could buy the new (shiiiiny) book."
 But that would be rude, so I don't. But I think it. *nygah*
Anyways /end rant, today's picture is something I constantly brag to people about. Like, constantly. I know.. I'm such a sinner *hangs head*

My sister's epically, awesome, fantabulous baking skills!
Seriously, her stuff is to die for. To diiiiiiiiiiiiiie fooooor!
She made this cake a while ago, and I personally love this cake because it's so dang adorable. She made it for her not-nephew on his first birthday. Hence, the giant "1". The little caterpillar around the edges just gets me every time. I wish there were a close up of it, but this is all I got. The icing is all fondant, she works miracles with that stuff. The cake itself was chocolate, pretty sure. And can I say, her chocolate cakes are like "Oh my word, my mouth has never had something so awesome." She's good at making them rich and super moist and chocolate-y *nom nom* But yes, okay, my mouth is watering and my bragging is done. I shall post more of her work. Nerdi (my little sis) went to SAIT for they're Baking and Pastry Arts program, before then she just did it as a hobby. She's cool like that. :)
Well, I'm off to hug my Kleenex box. Happy Festivus!

 巧克力
Andi

Nihao

*pokes head up*
>.>
Sooo.. Hi. Yup, I'm still alive. Surprise?
*hangs head* yes I know I'm a terrible blog author. In my own defense between NaNoWriMo and work I hath had no time! Honest. Okay my excuses aren't that wonderful.
So I was looking over my blog a couple of weeks ago thinking.. I've done a lot over the last while (not just this blog, but a few others I have), anyways I realized for all the kinda crazy stuff I've done I haven't really documented to much on it. I write a bit, but I'm a picture person, so why am I not sharing them?*shrugs*
Life is getting more hectic, I have a full time job now at an Oil Company, trying to do school and graduate, I'm permanently living in the big city, I still volunteer with the old and musty, I run around with other crazy people. So with all this rampant activity I thought that sometimes I just wanted to share the craziness.
That being said, I have hoped a band wagon people.
I'm turning my blog into a picture/bucket list project ^_^
Call it an epiphany I had, but there's things I've done and things I wanna do and needless to say I'm a sharing person. Maybe it'll spark crazy ideas for other people.
Today's first pic.

While in Banff this past weekend, I was in the candy store and spotted this! He's so cute ^_^ Owen said it reminded him of Helena. Yeah. I could see it. Maha.

xoxo
許多愛

What a Lovely Morning...

To wake up to the sound of a weed wacker beneath your window. *cringe* No amount of pillow over head and rolling over makes that sound go away.
So up I be, having slept in! Yes! One of the few good things about your job contract ending is sleeping in, bad thing is finding a new job. But that doesn't mean I'm not still hiding out down in the Rat Cages. Because really, as Deez put it, I can try to run but they'll just drag me right back and tie me up in the basement and never let me leave. Ever.
Yes, I love you all too.
So yes, my job is done *sniffle* and I'm stuck finding a new one. How dismal. But I'm staying because really how could I not? It's a good place to work, with ridiculously awesome (if not insane) people. I feel I fit in. My craziness is about par. For example, story time. I'm sitting downstairs between the two cellar dweller students Tooky and Heleness when a normal conversation comes up.
Heleness: You guys I wrote cuffles.
Me: Uhm.. what? What are cuffles?
Heleness: It was supposed to be cuffs.. It came out cuffles.
Me: Uh.. are you feeling okay?
Tooky: No, that's just her.
Heleness: *meow*

Normal is so relative.. So I'm off to go play with old, loveable, musty things. Who knows maybe I'll never get a new job. Doubt I could find one to live up to this one. ^.^



"Now I'm finally where I belong
I've been searching for a place of my own.
Now I've found it.
This is Home."
-Switchfoot 'This is Home'