Friday, July 01, 2005

Canadian Quote Of the Day Leonard Cohen inadvertently explains how my brain works: There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. 6:40:06 PM    build me up, buttercup... [] Oh! Canada. Today, I chose to celebrate the freedoms of my nation by sleeping in late, and ignoring the rather noisy parade that is going on a block away in favour of much needed zzzz's. Unpatriotic? Not a chance! The ability to sleep in on a national holiday, or ANY day, without being awakened by mortar blasts (instead of cover bands and bagpipers), and roll out of bed to blog (instead of to a factory, or sweat shop, or a river to bang my washing on the rocks) is about the best way to appreciate my rights as a Canadian citizen that I could possibly imagine! Besides, I've always believed that contributing to worthy causes, and volunteering -- not to mention being a decent, aware human being -- was my most effective method of showing thankfulness for living in a peaceful country, rather than going to the annual parties (except for those involving fireworks. I love me the fireworks!). Apparently, others feel their best way of saying 'thank you!' is subjecting others to Shania Twain and Celine Dion karaoke on a carnation covered-float. Each to their own, I say. I'm happy to be a Canadian woman who isn't Shania Twain or Celine Dion. But I digress. I know that I am blessed to be living in a nation where I am able to walk about freely, and not feel self-conscious or fearful on the streets because of my gender. I know that I am blessed to be able to write whatever I want, and not be censured in any way. I know that I am blessed to have had a complete education (albeit at my own ongoing expense, and in a field that only just managed to get me employment relating specifically to my skills and interests! But that was my fault for taking English-Political Science...). And I know that I am lucky to be able to travel overseas, and not get beaten up for having the wrong tiny flag on my backpack. Or I will feel lucky, whenever I get around to travelling. Side note: the more weirdness I hear, the more I'm glad I'm missing the parade! I think they're calling bingo numbers out there! I do like parades, by the way, but I think I'm more of a Mardi Gras/St. Patrick's Day/Macy's Thanksgiving Day in NYC type of girl than an afficionado of the local variety. I like truly ostentatious spectacles if I'm going to stand around and jostle for a view with my fellow community members. And anyhow, the only ostentatious spectacle I felt like witnessing this morning was my sleep-puffy face, a full three hours after I would normally get up. Mmmm. Happy Canada Day to all Canadians. I shall now celebrate my freedoms by heading out to my favourite local espresso place, drinking a lot of coffee, reading the paper, and mentally chastising the myopic local media. And now, a small visual montage of some favourite Canadian things: It's good to be alive! And it's good to be Canadian. Happy Canada Day, everyone! 11:44:29 AM    build me up, buttercup... [] small meg. I was a little mermaid...no doubt about it. I think I thought I could survive underwater at this point, and that sandcastles were permanent. It would take years for me to stop trying to breathe through gills I didn't possess, and to accept that the waves wash almost everything away. At three, with freckles, salt-crunched hair, and an ability to focus intently on even the most minute bits of driftwood, I was probably about as content as I'll ever be. My heart is still always at the beach. 1:30:03 AM    build me up, buttercup... [] Save Ferris. Remember "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"? Matthew Broderick (pre-Sarah Jessica), Alan Ruck (back when he was ridiculously cute), and pre nose-job Jennifer Grey? The parade scene? The keyboard with the sick noises? The nutso principal? Yeah. That movie is a classic from my pre-teen years (along with 'The Breakfast Club', 'Sixteen Candles', 'Better Off Dead' and 'Say Anything'), and, now that I think of it, was responsible for developing certain notions in my head and heart of how my high school years were supposed to be. Sigh.  They weren't anything like that. My high school was full of farm kids, bizarre drug addictions, lame extracurricular activities, and people with large hair. Oh, well. I recently took a blogger's quiz from the wacky folks at MIT. They give you a little button to put on your blog if you take said quiz, and I laughed out loud when I saw it. If you've seen 'Ferris', you'll know why ('When Cameron was in Egypt's land...let my Cameron goooo....").    In actuality, the director of the survey is named Cameron. So.  I had all these weird dreams in high school of an ideal life, and they were entirely informed by all these movies about semi-rich kids from the midwestern and eastern US. I wanted to be Ferris' girlfriend, or one of the girls in detention with Emilio Estevez, or to be falling in love with a guy named Jake while sitting on a table in my ugly pink bridesmaid dress. I wanted to go off to Yale or Columbia, get my journalism degree, and hook up with some writer boy who was getting his master's, or (on an alternate science track) an MIT geek.   It didn't happen, any of it. In fact, this is as close to being involved with MIT geeks as I'm probably ever going to get. Still, it's funny to think of how different from the norm my hopes were then. Everyone else in my Small-Town-Canada peer group just wanted to get drunk at the Pit, and then grow up to work at a semi-decent job that you could get without a university degree. They were looking forward to partying hard on the weekends, buying beige condos, driving Pontiac Sunfires, and having babies named Nikki or Tyson. I, however, wanted to work for the New York Times, live in a loft, wear black turtlenecks and boots, and have children named Jack and Kate.   Funny thing is, most of them got those things -- the things they wanted. The things they all wanted. I heard that the crowd at the reunion was startlingly homogenous. Good for them. Me? I don't have any of the things I meant to have.  What's even more funny is that I'm actually really good with that. I think things evolved just fine, even with my massive deviation from the pretentious checklists for happiness that I used to have. Although a writer boy might be a nice addition... 12:51:41 AM    build me up, buttercup... []

© Copyright 2005 Meg Fowler. Last update: 7/27/2005; 6:58:28 AM.