cry, why, cry

It's a funny thing, when sadness hits you. Sometimes your not sure where it came from, which direction - which instant brought it on, how long will it last... what is it that makes us feel it, and so strongly?

Well, tonight, for instance, for me it was a number of things. An argument, followed by a fairly sad movie (The Time Traveler's Wife), which was then followed by a series of "mellow" playlists on my iPod that should be renamed "depressing tunes," while lying on my bed and writing nonsensical messages to my long-distance boyfriend.

But it is also a funny thing, because at times it feels like crying, or being sad is the only way to work towards being happy again. How do we know what happiness even is unless we sometimes feel downright awful? So awful that a good cry tends to cure all that boggles our minds. I know that is what happens to me. I cry, get all that was bottling up inside my heart out on the plate - or the 30 odd tissues that have now been pulled from their home and re-deposited into the trash bin - and then I realize how silly I was being.

Thing post really has no direction, except now that I've welled up some salty tears in my eyes, wiped them away, and wrote about it, I feel... better.

Camping: a place where tents, huts, or other temporary shelters are set up, as by soldiers, nomads, or travelers.

Wow! What a weekend! Ben, Emily, Justin, Chelsea, Joey, Tab and Kevin (and me) all went camping up the Ottawa River over the weekend! And it was amazing.

We got all our gear together, then the four of us hiked in to the camp on the beach! Perfect sand. It was so gorgeous - except that it rained the four days before we got there, so the hike in was wet, muddy and our socks and shoes were soaked by the time everything was set up. But it was entirely worth the hike in. We got our tents up, started a roaring fire and ate some deliciously juicy hot dogs.

I love nothing better than camping. To get away for a few days - no cell phones, no internet, no traffic lights and car alarms, no distractions. Just nature. Completely surrounded by nature. It's wonderful. To survive on what you have, and swim/bath in the river, brush your teeth from a creek, go to bed smelling like campfire. It's truly the best experience.

I'm glad we actually organized ourselves and went - because it was my second last weekend to do anything with these amazing friends in Ottawa. Gush!

tick tock

I CAN'T BELIEVE how fast time goes by. I mean, really. One minute you say to yourself "I've got plenty of time to do this, to do that, to see him, to see her," and suddenly you're wondering "what the hell happened?"

That is how I am feeling right now in my current state. It is alarming to see that January turned to February without even a minor delay, February became March and it was my birthday, then March suddenly turned to June and here we are... June 29, almost July, with a million things to do before I have to leave. But, if I wasn't so busy with all this nonsense I would be bored.

This blog has really no point to it at all right now. I wish it was a bit cooler in Ottawa - the humid 30 degrees has me sweating at all hours of the day - and even at night it's hard to get comfortable to fall asleep.

That is all.

internet madness

I am sitting on my computer today - again - trying to figure out how to avoid being so easily distracted by the internet. Because, let's face it, even though we try again and again to avoid facebook, myspace, twitter and perezhilton.com, it is virtually impossible unless one has a strong will.

Apparently, I do not.

I have stories I have to write for my deadline tomorrow - stories that are easy, with good quotes and solid information, that would be written within minutes if it were not for all these tempting distractions.

Can you imagine what life would have been like 20 years ago when all such means of communication did not exist? I could. I think it would be peaceful. Less consuming, where one feels as though they have to know everything about every one all the time day and night. Exhausting, right? Even saying that last sentence has me feeling tired.

I wish that for a few days I could do my job as a writer, as a journalist, without having to use the internet. 

First blog and my neck is swollen

Well, how does one start a blog? Does it begin with a greeting, sort of a "welcome to what will soon become confessions from my heart", or a "I hope my violent outbursts will not deter you from further reading"? I'm not quite sure. But I'll do my best to entertain and enlighten, and maybe even frighten.

This past weekend Ben (that is my long-time boyfriend) and I went to a cottage on Lac de la Mere Bleu in Quebec. Having grown up in B.C., I tend to forget the horrid tales that my dad, who used to live in Ontario, told me of the swarming black flies. But spending an afternoon in a canoe, with no head netting at hand, has taught me not to forget those tales again.

I was viciously attacked by black flies. They look like fruit flies from the Okanogan Valley, except for when you wipe the back of your neck and are suprised to see christmas red blood dripping from your hands. Yes, those tiny bugs they call black flies eat your blood. And they do it without mercy. Ben counted over 30 bites on my neck alone. By Friday evening, I had begun to swell up and turn red with little dots all over my skin. On Saturday, I was aching all over - sort of like you do with the flu - and by Sunday I was ready to take a bristle brush and rub it all over the bites.

Needless to say, I miss the days of Horse Flies from B.C., where at least you could hear them coming for you and have time to prepare for a painful bite. I most definitely was not prepared for this itchy, unbearable feeling. But... at least there is always Benadryl.