Three and a half years go, I knitted my first scarf. Since then, I have knitted four toques. I nearly finished a fifth in the time it took to drive from Montréal to Vancouver, but when I got to the stitch decreases for the crown, I decided my handiwork was a waste of fancy yarn and unravelled the whole thing.
I’ve started something new, but it is not going well. Reading a knitting pattern is a skill I have yet to master. It goes something like this:
1: K1, P2, K2, K1togbl2, *K2, P2; rep from * across, end K2.
2: K1below, P3
3: Alternate between rows 1 and 2, until you realize that you’ve spent hours doing the wrong thing, and clench your jaw so hard in anger that your teeth shatter.
Ah, what a relaxing hobby.
Continue reading “It’s still easier to make hats than new friends.”
In 2002, a deaf friend came for a visit and stayed with me in Vancouver. During that time, the roll of film that I had dropped off at the drugstore a few days earlier had been printed and was ready for pick-up. (The excitement of seeing your photo prints has been taken from us since the popularization of digital cameras.) I wasted no time and dragged my guest to the drugstore. We sat on the curb out front to look through the photos, but before I opened the envelope, I warned her that the images were not for the faint of heart.
She’s one my best friends. Surely she’d approach this with an open mind, I thought.
“What the fuck?!” was her response.
Continue reading “So you think you’re open-minded?”
Prelude: I’m happy to report in the last 11 years I’ve learned to go easy on the run-on sentences and apply my makeup with a light hand. I routinely break 300 points in a real game of Scrabble. My fridge is still a Moffat.
Continue reading “March 7, 2008 Throwback blog post”
Preface: The BC Experience was a short-lived tourist attraction in Victoria’s historic Crystal Garden building. The exhibition shut down before my friends and I had the chance to reschedule our plan to visit it.
I’ll also note that I currently work at the very place I used to clean, which is mentioned in the following throwback post:
Continue reading “September 16, 2006 Throwback blog post”
“Are there peanuts in this?” I’d ask.
“Are you allergic?” they’d always respond. No way could someone just not like peanuts.
Continue reading “I do not belong in the peanut gallery.”
While writing my last post, I skimmed through my Flickr archives, which contains about 10,000 photos. Many have been set as private, not because they’re scandalous, but because a good chunk of them are completely mundane photos that nobody wants to see. I shared some of the more amusing ones with Yann, who remarked that it was strange how I had a vast collection of snapshots of ordinary things such as a cuppa matcha latte, a box of latex gloves, store-bought apple pie, and an out-of-focus photo of a former co-worker eating charred vegetables.
I’m a pioneer of over-sharing on the internet. This behaviour is now openly embraced through apps like Snapchat or Instagram. I was doing something socially acceptable 10 years earlier than most!
Allow me to take you guys on a mundane stroll down memory lane:
Continue reading “This is my brand.”
Yesterday, I decided to roam my original neighbourhood of North Park for a rush of nostalgia. Here, I occupied the same building for the entirety of the four or so years I first lived in Victoria (2004-2008). The building was in the early stages of decay: the hardwood floors were so trashed that they’d frequently implant your soles with shards of wood; the rear balcony was missing wooden boards and was on the verge of collapsing; the windows wouldn’t stay open without being propped up by assorted objects (mainly dollar store candle holders).
Do you think my former neighbours had rock art gardens? Oh, no.
Continue reading “Second impression.”