On Taking Myself Out On Dates

I am not the kind of girl that guys are lining up to ask out.

If you are my mother or best friend, you probably scoffed at that statement and feel the need to say something like "Any guy would be lucky to go out with you." Please don't. I'm not being self-depricating and looking for reassurance of my worth as a human being. I'm not bemoaning the fact that my dating life is basically non-existant. At least not this time. No, this time I'm just stating a fact. Guys are not lining up to ask me out, literally or figuratively.

When you have no dating life and your best friends live on the other side of the country, you have two options if you want to go out: repeatedly ask the few friends you do have living near you if they want to go out or just go out by yourself. Since I start to feel annoying and needy if I ask the same four or five people to hang out all the time, I've started to take myself out on dates. I'll go to the movies, or out for coffee, or to a show. I went to see Sarah Polley's Stories We Tell and loved it. I went to Starbucks, got a gingerbread latte (decaf soy, naturally), and wandered through Chapters looking at books. I went to Jian Ghomeshi's book tour stop in Halifax. Yeah, I would have liked someone to discuss the movie with afterward (go see it, it's so good), but it's nice to not have to debate what movie to watch or worry about whether the person you've come with will talk or text during the film. And, sure, coffee and book-browsing aren't the same without my Edmonton bestie with whom I used to do it all the time, but they still make for a pretty enjoyable way to spend a rainy evening. And, yes, I would have liked someone to grab coffee with after the book tour, but I got to laugh with abandon and shift in my seat like nobody's business without worrying about what people thought of me (because, really, I'm never going to see the people I was sitting with again). So, I am slowly starting to love these little dates with myself.

Although, you know, a real date might also be nice.

Despite that...

Despite the fact that I'm drowning in secondary sources right now and am having regular existential crises (seriously, this comic is my life right now), I am actually profoundly excited for the next few months. If the last several weeks are any indication, this is going to be one awesome summer. And, honestly, I am totally okay with that.

The Regular

I know I'm at Just Us too much (or, perhaps, just enough) because...

The baristas know my drink order. Including the ones who have been there less than 3 months.

I have no problem just working without buying a coffee if I bought a coffee to go earlier in the day. Similarly, I have no problem buying one coffee and then staying for several hours.

When it isn't busy, one of the baristas will bring my drink to my table rather than just call it out.

I am willing to leave all of my stuff, including my computer and camera, unattended while I run home to get something I forgot.


Oh the perils of having a fantastic coffee shop nearby...

Taste of Summer

It has basically been summer here the last couple of days. Today I got my latte iced and it was delightful.

Living on a Latte and a Prayer

My hold on sanity is a bit tenuous lately. I'm living on a latte and a prayer.

[In case you aren't a musical theatre dork and therefore the reference is lost on you: the phrase "living on a latte and a prayer" comes from "Just Another Day" in Next to Normal]

Craving Comfort

I've been craving comfort lately. The past few days have taken a toll on my psyche. All I want to do now is drink a latte, read a book (for fun!), curl up in a blanket in front of a fireplace and sleep. Sadly I can't have lattes, the only reading I will be doing between now and Easter will be for school and I don't have a fireplace. So, I am going to go to sleep. And I just won't think about the fact that I have to drag myself out of bed again tomorrow.

This is Lee's hot chocolate from a stop we made on choir tour. It was actually pretty delightful just hanging out in a coffee shop for a while. I seriously love just sitting in coffee shops reading or chatting with friends. I also wouldn't mind doing that right now. If only there was time for things like that.

Welcome Back, Monday Blahs

Some days you just need a cup of tea.

Last Monday I told you how I'd had a couple of stellar Mondays in a row. Well, the Monday blahs were back in full force today. It wasn't a bad day. Actually, it was rather productive, which made me happy. It was just kind of blah. I think it's mostly because I was tired. Between losing an hour to daylight savings and a brutally short sleep Sunday night I just was not ready to face the world today.

Yeah, some days you just need a cup of tea.

Ambiance

I am obsessed with light. Although if you know me or read this blog on a regular basis you probably already know that. There is just so much light can do. The right lighting can change everything. I've been transfixed by various qualities of sunlight for the past several months. This may be because it is the dead of winter and therefore the number of hours with sunlight are precious few and I am longing for summer and its attendant light. However, I have forgotten lately that artificial light can actually be just as lovely. This is because I spend most of my time with artificial light in the form of annoying, buzzing overhead lights in the office or the tungsten lights in my room which keep me awake while doing homework. I've been reminded a couple of times in the past week or two that these are not the only forms of artificial light, and that artificial light is not always profoundly unfortunate. One such reminder came today when I walked into the publications office and Sharon had desk lamps on but the overhead lights off. I can't even explain how relaxing that felt. It was instant too. I walked in and could suddenly breathe. I walked out and the world landed back on my shoulders. That, my friends, is the magic of light.


This is a chandelier in a coffee shop in Toronto (the same one that this and this are from). This coffee shop is quite possibly one of my favourite places from my trip to Toronto. One day I will go back there. I adore chandeliers. One day, when I am successful and rich, I will have a chandelier in my dream home. Until then I will have to satisfy myself with enjoying them when I come across them and wandering through lighting sections in stores.

The Love of Coffee Shops

I love a good coffee shop. The music that walks the line between jazzy and hipster, the smell of coffee, the din of conversation punctuated by loud exclamations of delight or disdain, the overheard relationship drama, the variety of people, the random comments from people about my massive stacks of books on [insert appropriate paper topic here]...there is simply a vibe that a good coffee shop gives off that I can't explain but still adore. If you ask me what I would like to do I will likely answer that I would like to go sit in a coffee shop and talk. This is something I do with my closest friends as often as possible. I have a dear friend who is married and she and her husband have a standing coffee date on the weekends. I think this is delightful. As a student I have another level of appreciation for the coffee shop: they are also excellent places for me to hang out and do homework. This is particularly true if it is somewhere that I am unlikely to run into anyone I know. The downside with this setup is that inevitably I have to get up to use the bathroom at some point. This leaves me with two options. Option one: pack up all of my stuff and take it with me to the bathroom. Option two: leave my stuff at the table and ask someone nearby to watch it for me. The problem with option one is that I have a lot of stuff, so packing it up is not a simple process, and I don't want to lose my table (actual spread-out-and-study space is at a premium in coffee shops near the University). The problem with option two is that I have to figure out which of the random people in the coffee shop to trust with my things. This is the dilemma I was confronted with while working on my paper in Starbucks this afternoon/evening. I have come to the conclusion that coffee shop studying works much better with the buddy system in place. If there are two of you, then you will always have someone to watch your stuff while you run to the bathroom. This makes life much simpler.


This picture is from a couple years ago. My dear roommate, who I refer to as Gabby on the blog, came home with me for Thanksgiving and so naturally we went to Starbucks and chatted it up. Can you believe that before I took her to a Starbucks she had never been to one? Yeesh.

All I want is everything

     Ella is looking at her oddly.
     "What's the matter, Morag?"
     "I - don't know. Sometimes I get - well, scared. I don't feel all that normal."
     Ella shrugs.
     "So - who wants to be normal, anyhow?"
     "I do," Morag says with passionate conviction. "Oh Ella, I do. I want to be able to talk to boys the way they want to be talked to. Only I can't seem to get the trick of it."
     "Boys like that are schmucks," Ella says furiously. "But yeh, I know what you mean."
     "You too?"
     "Yeh. I went out with this guy a coupla weeks ago, and I thought Now this is It. Here is your opportunity, oh Ella bella. So what did Ella the schlemiel do? Did she tell him how masterful and handsome he was? Not she. Oh no. She began talking in her winsome way about Marx's theory of polarity. Why? Why? I'll never see him again."
     "Well, then, why?" Morag is laughing, but not in mockery.
     "I don't know," Ella says gloomily. "It just seemed so phoney, somehow, all that whole mutual flattery bit. And why should I pretend to be brainless? I"m not brainless."
     "I know," Morag says. "And yet I envy girls like Susie Trevor so much that I damn near hate them. I want to be glamorous and adored and get married and have kids. I still try to kid myself that I don't want that. But I do. I want all that. As well. All I want is everything."
     Ella strikes a theatrical wrist to her forehead. "Engrave it on my tombstone."
(Margaret Laurence The Diviners 210-1)

I'm working my way through The Diviners right now and absolutely loving it. I've had a bit of a prejudice against Margaret Laurence because of The Stone Angel. I dislike that book. Because I've had unfortunate experiences with it the two times I have studied it I kind of swore off of Margaret Laurence. I know that this is a bad policy as an English major, but I tend to subscribe to it nonetheless. Thus, when I got my reading list for the novel course I'm taking and The Diviners was on it I groaned inwardly. However, I am rapidly falling in love with this book. It is incredible. I came across this section today and couldn't help but laugh. Morag and Ella are about 20 when they have this particular conversation, so they're not that much younger than I am now. It just captures how I feel so perfectly. One moment I am so glad that I am single and have the freedom to pursue whatever I want, wherever I want. But then something happens (usually it's when someone I know gets engaged or celebrates and anniversary or has their significant other do something really sweet for them when they are having a bad day) and I feel like I am missing out on so much. It's annoying as all get out. However, I think it is kind of the curse of the ambitious woman. As much as we like to think that women can now have it all, it is hard. And yet, I still want everything. In moments of frustration I say with Morag, "All I want is everything," and reply with Ella, "Engrave it on my tombstone."

The picture is from the same coffee shop in Toronto as the coffee I posted a few days ago. I was sitting there by myself in this sea of tables and was totally okay with it. In fact, I felt like taking a picture of it. At other points in my life I would not have been okay with that. Although I probably would still have taken a picture. I like that this picture seems to capture that sense of waiting for someone.

Coffee and Cigarettes

Coffee and Cigarettes

Michelle Featherstone

I gave up coffee and cigarettes

I hate to say it hasn't helped me yet

I thought my problems would just dissipate

And all my pain would be in yesterday

I poured my booze all down the kitchen drain

And watched my bad habits get flushed away

I thought that that would keep my head on straight

And all my pain would be in yesterday

But it's true

I'm still blue

But I finally know what to do

I must quit

I must quit you

I thought that if I didn't go out and play

The sadness would get bored and go away

I thought that if I didn't go astray

That all my pain would be in yesterday

But it's true

I'm still blue

But I finally know what to do

I must quit

I must quit you

I sold my guitar and my piano

I thought that it was these that kept me low

I thought if only I could try and change

That all my pain would be in yesterday

But it's true

I'm still blue

But I finally know what to do

I must quit

I must quit you

I must quit

I must quit you

I just discovered Michelle Featherstone's album Fallen Down last week and I am in love with her melancholy, beautifully written and sung songs. This song in particular is just incredible. I've had a long and exhausting week which has left me in a rather low state of mind. Or rather, it has left me bouncing between the extremes of laughing my head off and bawling my eyes out. (Isn't it odd how both of those phrases involve bodily injury?) Anyway, this song just suited my mood and a conversation I was having with my best friend. Not that I need to quit my best friend. That would just be silly. It's just interesting how desperately I hang on to bad habits or relationships that cause nothing but drama and injury to my heart. I guess it's just that I would rather be dealing with familiar pain than risk unknown difficulties. I tend to be that person though who hangs on to things way longer than I should, way longer than I need to, and way longer than is healthy. I don't mean this to be a huge "my life is a disaster" post, because it certainly isn't. Just saying that there are some things in my life I might be better off without. Quitting is hard though.

I took this picture in Toronto a year and half ago or so. I adore it and have been waiting for the right moment to post it. When this song came on on my itunes tonight this was the exact picture I thought of and I knew that I had my blog post for tonight.

Liquid Comfort

If alcohol is liquid courage then tea is liquid comfort. I've been fighting a cold since Tuesday, and, as it is with all immune battles, the cold is winning and I am losing. Fortuantely it actually hasn't been that bad. At least during the day. It definitely gets worse at night. I also am getting to that point where I sound awful because I am all stuffed up and my throat is on fire. Seriously. If I was a man this would be attractive, but since I am not a man it is just sad. I've also started to develop a cough, which just makes everything sound that much better. Anyway. As a way to counteract the firey throat I have been drinking a lot of tea. I normally drink quite a bit of tea, but this is even more than average. There is just something inherently comforting in a warm mug of tea. Wrapping my hands around the mug and holding it up to my face so that I breathe in the steam is one of my favourite things to to when I'm feeling down or sick.

I thought it was only appropriate to share a tea-themed picture with all of you. This is actually quite an old picture. I took it on my Christmas break in 2007 on a trip to Steeps with some of my friends.

Empty

I handed in my last final this morning, so I am officially done for another year! Woohoo! I move out of the apartment tomorrow afternoon so I'm at the tail end of the packing process and my room is currently strangely empty. My desk had my computer, my bamboo, and a pile of makeup on it. If you have ever seen my desk on a normal day then you know that this is pretty remarkable. There's nothing on my shelves, the furniture I brought with me is gone, there is nothing on my walls (except my calander, which I just noticed I forgot to pack). I dislike sitting in empty rooms like this. In order to document the strange sense of emptiness that is currently in my room, I figured a picture of an empty coffee cup was appropriate. This is from the same coffee shop/internet cafe in Banff that we stopped at during choir tour my first year as this photo from a few weeks ago. That is exactly how my room is right now, just the residue of life left in it. It is very strange.

The caffeine isn't helping...

Sorry that I missed posting last night. I went to see "The Glass Menagerie" at the Citadel and then crashed at my parents' house and didn't have my computer with me. So here is what I had planned to post yesterday. I'll probably still put something up tonight. On a related note: "The Glass Menagerie" is probably one of my all-time favorite plays and the rendition at the Citadel right now is beautifully acted and uses music in a truly wonderful way. Despite the fact that I was completely exhausted, it was a lovely evening.

This picture pretty much sums up how I (and most people I know) have been feeling the past few days and how I'm probably going to feel for quite a while given the fact that those of us in the school world have had papers, final projects, and the looming prospect of exams descend on us. I took it on choir tour my first year at King's. It was a rainy/snowy afternoon in Jasper so a few of us decided to hole up in an internet cafe for a while and enjoy some chai lattes. We were pretty tired though so sitting down in a warm place made us a bit sleepy. That day in Jasper is one of my fondest memories of university.

Art

The new Art Gallery of Alberta (www.youraga.ca) building opened at the end of January and since I am a bit of an art nut I was pretty excited to go and check it out. I finally made it out this afternoon with a bunch of people from my literary theory class. And it was DEFINITELY worth it. The building itself has caused a bit of controversy and I'm not really sure I like how it looks. Sometimes I think it's cool and other times I just think it's weird. But, from the inside it is pretty sweet. The stairs between level are inside the swoopy (very technical term) bits of the building so it looks pretty sweet inside. They don't have their permanent collections out yet, but the current exhibits are pretty awesome: Degas (his "Two Dancers" is probably my favorite piece of artwork), Goya, Karsh (who must have had an incredible life since he met so many famous people through his work as a portrait photographer), and a couple of installation pieces by Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller ("Storm Room" and "The Murder of Crows", both of which are really cool but thouroughly creeped me out). All in all it was an absolutely lovely way to spend an afternoon.

So, since I'm thinking about art I was trying to find a picture that related to this somehow and I remembered these posters that were in a coffee shop in Toronto. Now, this is a pretty amazing coffee shop in the Distillery District of Toronto (which, by the way, is probably my dream address should I ever move to Toronto). They have all of these really old ads for coffee companies that are pretty awesome. I spent forever just staring at them. This particular image is of the wall and most of the poster that was just above the table I was sitting at the first time I went there. The space just lent itself to sepia tone photography. I love the industrial feeling of the exposed brick and metal light fixtures and (although you can't see it in this picture) exposed duct work in the ceiling. Anyway, I think that these posters qualify as art. The idea of what constitutes art intrigues me because I think it is really difficult to define. I'll spare you my ramblings on this subject for now. I'm always up for a good conversation about such topics though.