Underground public transport = fun

I've ridden on the metro/subway/whatever they call 'em in the following cities:
- Toronto
- Paris
- Montreal
- Brussels
- Vienna
- Milan
- Budapest
- Athens

The TTC is fine for getting to wherever you need it to go, but I really think they should expand the subway lines, cause riding metros in other cities just makes Toronto look bad...and I love the subway. I love sitting/standing/leaning in crowded TTC cars, and rushing up/down the escalator with the rest of the commuters. Hearing the arpeggiated chord before the door closes. People watching. Feeling anonymous. So many things I love, but it's just two lines (sorry, I still don't count the Sheppard line - give me a little bit more time).

There Are No Shortcuts

There Are No Shortcuts, by Rafe Esquith

Read after leaving it on my bookcase since June 2003.

This book, written by a Los Angeles teacher, was, I dunno...interesting. Sort of. I guess what he was saying wasn't anything new or spectacular to me. I think (or at least, hope) most teachers go into the profession because they want to make a difference and do the right thing, and at least in their B.Ed. year (or equivalent) they are inspired to do just that. Over time, for the most part that I've been exposed to, I notice that teachers seem to care less and less. Like they're just going through the paces. That they're getting tired of doing new and exciting things. Of course there are exceptions to this, and luckily some of the teachers I'd had over the years fall into this category.
Anyway, the author was telling a little bit about his career, what he tries to do in his class, the lessons that he tries to instill in his students. It sounds pretty impressive, what he gets his students to accomplish in grade 5, students from a "rough" part of town. So as vague as I sometimes try to be on this blog, I think I've said a couple times by accident, or it's basically obvious that I'm a teacher. And I'd like to hope that I'm still pretty driven to be creative, be the best person I can possibly be, inspire my students to be better, push my students to their limits, try to learn about myself through my students, etc etc etc, so maybe that's why this book didn't have that much of an effect on me. I mean, because the author's trying to inspire teachers to do something better, but I'm still at the point that I want to accomplish all of these things anyway. Unfortunately I didn't feel like I learned many little hints about how I can be as accomplished as the author, accept I seemed to get the vibe that he really didn't care about what administrators think. I got the vibe that he always pushed the limits, risked getting fired for doing certain things...and that he is encouraging others to follow suit. I'm not too sure if I want to do that right now. That was the point though, that teachers should take risks, and fight the system, and do whatever had to be done, but realistically, I don't think it can happen right now. Maybe that's not true, maybe I'm just too scared to do it, but I'm happy with that. I still think that I'm making a little bit of a difference. I think courage takes time to grow, and maybe after a little while, I'll feel more comfortable pushing the envelope. His accomplishments do sound impressive, but something about the book just left me uneasy. I don't know if it was that he was really boasting about what he does in his book (I guess the whole point of the book was for him to talk about himself as a teacher), or the "breaking of the rules" thing that I mentioned before. I don't know. It wasn't completely horrible, but the book didn't blow me away.
It was/is nice to know that there are other people out there who are trying to make a difference. To try to make a difference in the future generation.

Another book read. I'm on a roll!

Weird feeling

I'm currently typing from my residence room at Herstmonceux Castle. I'm having freaky flashbacks to first year university. Plain grey carpet. Drab cutains on the windows. Two beds. Two desks. Two chairs. Two bookcases above the desks. Two armoires. Two bedside tables. Two bulletin boards.
Well, it's a little different I guess. I was in a single room.

Week 1 of Spring Break

Here in Europe, we don’t have March Break like most school in Canada do. Instead we have two weeks of holiday around Easter time (think back your History classes…it makes sense).
The first week of the break, I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, because I really wanted to experience something like it. I’d never done anything like that before, and if I do say so myself, I like to grow as much as possible as an individual. I would be on the trip with 12 other people, and I thought it would be really interesting working in a small group, doing something that I’d never done before, and being in an area that I’d never traveled to (Eastern Europe).
I was nervous, but also excited before we went. I really had no idea what to expect from the experience (including lots of factors that I don’t really want to get into over the very public internet).
Due to the placement of the Easter holidays this year, we didn’t go straight to our building area (Beius, Romania). Instead, we spent a weekend in Budapest, Hungary seeing the sights, and building up even more anticipation for what we going about the experience.

Budapest was alright I suppose. We had a nice little adventure getting from the airport to the hotel, because we decided that we couldn’t afford the airport taxi service. Instead, we took the bus/metro. We must have looked pretty funny (the 13 of us) with our HUGE suitcases (we’d packed for two weeks), speaking no Hungarian, looking very confused. We made it though, and it really wasn’t too bad. It was FUN!
That weekend, was grey. The whole weekend was grey and rainy. I think that really influenced my perception of the city. Sure there were things to see, but as I’ve said many times before, you’ve got the cathedral, the open square, the train station, the opera house, the parliament, the pedestrian street (ok, I added in a couple extra things)…they’re all the same in each of the European cities. I did enjoy it though, because for most of the time, I wandered alone, feeling very anonymous. The buildings really were beautiful, and unfortunately I didn’t have a chance to go into any of them, nor any of the museums, because I decided to use my time seeing quantity (over quality). That’s what next time is for. I always feel like my first time in a city is to scope out the situation. To get a taste for the area, get my bearings, and then when I return, I’ll really know where to go, what I want to do, etc.
While we were there, the Spring Festival was happening. In one of the main squares, there were booths set up, with vendors selling food, craft items…a stage was set up with performances…there were tables and chairs set up to sit, watch, eat, relax…what an amazing atmosphere!
One interesting experience. A couple of us decide that we should go probably the most famous Spa in Budapest. This would be my first spa experience, so I was really excited. I thought that I should really go all out and get some kind of special massage or something. When we arrive, we find out that they are not doing any more special treatments that day, because the Spa is too busy (it was Easter Sunday). Okay, fine. So we grudgingly decide to just pay our entry for the “hot spring bath”. We weren’t going to leave without saying that we’d done something at this place. So we go in…which was a whole experience in itself, because I have to say that the sales people were NOT very friendly (yelling orders at us, pushing us here, there). Then we casually ask if we can still get a massage. Here comes the sketch. Under her breath, the lady says yes, and discretely beckons us to follow her into, yup, the back room. It’s dirty, and ghetto looking. Ultra sketch. There are five of us, and five massage therapists, so all seems fine. The lady asks us to pay her ___ amount in cash. The amount per person is slightly more than what we would have had to pay if we bought tickets. We have to go back to changeroom to get our money, but we’re skeptical, so we don’t really had it over quite yet. One person I was with gave the lady her share of the money. Once we all reassemble in the massage room, she repeats the cost, and we compile our money (less the one girl who’s already paid) and put it on the table in front of her. She counts it and says we’re short. We tell her, no, that’s because on girl’s already paid. “Oh yes”, she says, and proceeds to pull out the bills that had been given to her. But there’s a problem, because the bills don’t total the amount that she was given. Some coins are missing. We point this out and she says that she was only given bills. How curious that when the lady walks around, we can hear something clinking in her pocket. One of us has been pulled away by a masseuse to start her massage, and we soon see her inching her way back to us. She was thoroughly creeped out by the masseuse. The rest of us, and getting really sketched out, because the room’s creepy, the ladies are creepy, and they’re trying to pocket our money!!! We decide not to continue any longer, we grab our money and run (well, okay, walk very quickly) out the room to the sound of the ladies yelling after us not to leave, that they want to give us massages! *shudder* So we just go to the hot spring bath and soak ourselves in salty, hot water. I forget what temperature it was…it was written on the wall though. There were two pools in the room. One was a couple degrees colder than the other. Most were in the hotter pool. So we sat there and chatted. It wasn’t anything special at all. It really reminded me of the videos and texts that I’d seen/used in my high school Latin classes (about the Roman bathhouses). The tiled mosaics. The people sitting in the pool chatting. The people sitting on the ledge chatting. There were ladies with bathing suits on, and some without. Ahhh…European life. *shudder* It was yet another experience that I don’t regret (you can always benefit SOMEHOW by each experience), but I will never do it again. Sketchy.
One night we ate dinner at the little Festival Square. The food was delicious. It was Hungarian, but it really wasn’t anything special. A stir fry of meat, vegetables and potatoes, with some kind of spice. I would be eating goulash on a different day, so I wasn’t concerned. There is a dessert and I also forget the name of. It’s a pastry that they bake over hot coals on this spit sort-of contraption. The pastry is a hollow tube of doughy goodness. You can get it just with sugar, or with cinnamon, or vanilla…yummy.
Budapest is gorgeous at night. All of the major monuments are light up with lights…dare I say, it’s almost as gorgeous as Paris at night? It really is beautiful. The lights, the impressive monuments and buildings lining the Danube. That’s right, the Danube (anyone all of a sudden hear Strauss in their head?). Wonderful.

Monday morning, we’re picked up by someone from Habitat Beius. We sit in a van for, oh, 5 hours to get to our destination. Then, cause of the time difference, we didn’t actually get to Beius until 6 hours after we’d left Hungary. We were pretty exhausted once we got there. Just in time for dinner! While in Beius, we would be working with a school group from Dublin, Ireland. Hooray for fun accents! They were pretty perky when they met us at dinner, but we were all zombies after the drive, so it was a pretty odd meeting (for both parties).
Our accommodations while we were there would be at a local family’s home. We had the house all to ourselves. It was really fun! There were multiple beds crammed into each room. Good vibes, and good times!
The daily routine for the week was pretty structured. Wake-up at whatever time in order to be at breakfast (all meals were at a local restaurant – 15 minute walk) for 7:30am. Get on bus to arrive at building site for 8:30am. Work. Short, 15min morning break with snacks/tea/coffee sometime that’s convenient. Lunch from noon to 1pm. Back on site until 6pm with another short afternoon break with snacks/tea/coffee whenever convenient. Bussed back home. Dinner at 8:30pm. Sleep as much as possible and repeat. It was utterly fantastic.
Building was incredible. On the first day, we arrived to a plot of land that had nothing. We started from scratch (well, okay, there was a little bit of foundation there). We started by building the frames for the roof. Then the walls. It was absolutely incredible watching the first wall be put up. When it was lying on its side, I was a little confused as to what it was that we were trying to do…but as soon as it went up…wow. It was a wall. All four of them were put up, then the roof as well. It was amazing. Of course they didn’t have any cranes or anything helping to raise the roof up onto the walls. Lots of people helping lift…lots of people working together. It was incredible. I can’t even describe in more detail how amazing it was…I guess it was yet another once in a lifetime experiences that I’m so thankful for, and that I would strongly urge everyone to try for themselves. After the skeleton of the house was set up, we put styrofoam on the walls, concrete stuff and some netting...roof tiles were put up…insulation was put in the house, walls to divide up the room…by the time we left it really did look like a little house. We knew the group that would be going in just after we left, and they did a little work on the house as well. They didn’t finish it (because of other stuff that was going on), but they added paint and stucco to the walls and window frames and stuff.
Anyway, I’d tell you about Beius and how great the town was an stuff, but the problem is that we didn’t really get to see much of it. We got a chance to eat at a local restaurant for all of our meals (as mentioned before), walk around a little bit, be driven through the town, see some ethnic dancing and musical acts, but that’s about it. We had some visits to local places on our itinerary, but we decided to scrap those plans to build more hours. Due to the placement of the Easter weekend, we could only build for 3.5 days MAX. We wanted to do more. We wanted to help more. Unfortunately, it just didn’t work out that way. Still, I’m grateful for being able to do something. To help somehow. To experience the wonderfulness that is Habitat. I was REALLY REALLY sad to be leaving. It was one of the best (if not the best – I don’t even want to have to decide on my favorite thing of the year so far) experiences thus far in my big European adventure.

After leaving Beius, we head back to Budapest for a night, and stay at the same hostel (which wasn’t too sketchy – yeehaw!) as the next group that’s coming in. It was so nice to see them, tell them about how wonderful the experience was for us (and will be for them), and spend another night in Budapest eating good food, and staring at gorgeous lights.

I’ve ranted long enough. Just know that I would highly recommend getting involved with Habitat for Humanity. I enjoyed every moment of the trip. I learned a lot about myself. I learned a lot about others. I had a lot of fun. I met a lot of people. I also used a power drill!

Paris with a friend

A friend of mine came to visit about a month ago. It was the first time I'd hosted someone who wasn't related to me.
I was excited to have some company and have an excuse to travel more...too bad this thing called work kept getting in the way. At least we got to go out at night, or just crash at my place and veg and stuff. It's nice to have company.
We knew that we wanted to go to a different country for a weekend. It was a decision between Germany and France. We were leaning towards Germany, and had basically decided on going to Frankfurt, but at the last minute over a fondue and some curling (no joke), we decided to scrap that idea and go to Paris instead.
I DON'T REGRET THE DECISION FOR A SECOND.
It no secret that I LOVE Paris. There's just something really magical about that city. It'd be my third trip, but the first for my friend. How exciting to be able to go to Paris with someone who hasn't been before!
So, going into this trip, I knew we'd have to be the ultimate tourists. Every major monument would have to be visited, or at least seen from a distance. It really is impossible to see everything in Paris in just a weekend, no matter how hard you try. Paris just has too much to see.
We lucked out with a great hotel. For the first night, we got upgraded to a suite. So Fab. It was in a pretty convenient location (everything's convenient if it's near a Metro station) with some great character.
We shopped on the Champs-Elysees (I hadn't done that since '97 - which I only remember going into some huge perfume store...unless the store I went in has closed, I've deduced that it must have been the fabulous Sephora...and having a drink at Planet Hollywood) and I must say that we were both a little disappointed. Louis Vuitton was under renovation, but I'm sure that wouldn't have made a difference either way (I'm not a fan of the cherries with faces on them. Just doesn't scream: classy, to me). Alas.
Another highlight, seeing the Eiffel Tower sparkle (again). We just sat on a wall beside the Seine and stared happily. We had the perfect view. Not too close, not too far.
Tuileries was gorgeous. I was jealous of those who lucked out and were lounging on a vacant chair. I want to go back again during the warmer half of the year to enjoy this Fab garden. I had flashes of "The Da Vinci Code" while there.
Many sighs of happiness on this trip.
Thanks to great company. Come back again soon!

******

Potential purchases that I chickened out of:
- pink linen bucket hat
- Spring green/blue oversized cloth hobo
- bold necklace

Makes me melt

Beautiful eyes that twinkle and look into my soul. Crinkly corners that make me too nervous to look up. The perfect fit. A smile that sends my heart racing. The right shirt. Height. A popped collar. Something chic like a scarf or bag. Yum.

Junior World Challenge Cup 2005 for juniors

I never really wrote too much about this event, but it was held here in Neuchatel in March. Since my arrival, I had been looking forward to this competition, because it's no secret that I'm in LOVE with figure skating.
It would be my second international competition that I'd attended. That's right, I'm so obsessed, yet I'd only seen one other international skating competition. Also synchronized skating (a little peculiar since I wasn't exposed to the world of synchro - seriously - until late spring of 2003). It was NAISSC 2004 at the Hershey's Centre. I intend to attend more international competitions in the future. I've already invested in a major one in 2006.
Anyway, I love figure skating and have really missed it this year. Sure I've kept up my skills and skated often here, but there's just something missing. Some may know that a very important thing about figure skating is weighing quite heavily in my mind when I think about whether or not I will be returning to Canada in the near future.

Back to the competition, I wanted to be as involved with the event as possible. Obviously I wouldn't be a participant, but I asked to volunteer during the competition and of course I would be attending the event as a spectator as well.
I was asked to be the announcer for extra practices for the competition. I enthusiastically got to watch some of the world's top Junior teams practice and absorb their techniques, styles and strategies.
I was also the announcer for the official Free Program practices, which was also very interesting. I learned a lot from watching all of the skaters and coaches in action.
I was fortunate enough to meet and work with the Organizing Committee of the competition as well as some members of the ISU.
The competition itself was superb. I won't go into any details for the fear that I will never stop typing, and because there is so much controversy in figure skating (har har har).
I REALLY MISSED SKATING. What I wouldn't do to go out there and stroke around with the girls (and a couple boys). It was tough being in the stands, but it gave me more big dreams for the future. Again, unrealistic ones, but in my blissful existence, I don't mind conjuring up these dreams.
For me, the highlight of the competition was being fortunate enough to sit behind the judges and encountering the COPs system for the first time. I learned a lot from talking to other experts in the field and seeing the system being used first hand. I have to reiterate how much I learned from this competition. It was incredible.

I was also proud and excited to be surrounded by a strong Canadian contingent. I have some connections to the teams that represented Canada at the competition and spent quite a lot of time with them. Not only did it give me good "Canadiana" and "Skating" fixes, but also some non-describable moments that I will never forget.

I am proud to say that Canadian Juniors are a force to be reckoned with. Gold Ice won a bronze medal at this event, and just behind them in fourth was black ice. Congratulations!

It was yet another experience that I'll never forget!

Shopaholic & Sister

Shopaholic & Sister, by Sophie Kinsella

Before going to Habitat, I was warned that I would probably get really bored at nights, so I should bring a good book…or five. I went to the library hoping to find some of the Harry Potter series (I’d had success reading the first two), but to no avail. I thought I’d probably want to read something really light while in Romania, so I looked for anything girly. I found one such book. Shopaholic & Sister. Perfect. Something I’ve been told is ridiculously easy to read.
I’m so proud of myself. I finished this book in three sittings. A little bit of reading on the plane from Budapest to Zurich, sometime on the train from Zurich to Neuchâtel, and the last parts of it, earlier today. It was SO easy to read!
It wasn’t serious, is wasn’t enthralling, but after finishing the book, I’m not left with any negative feelings towards it. Maybe because I wasn’t expecting anything big out of it, maybe because the whole way though, the intensity was at the same level (non-existent). I felt like I was just reading. Not for any important reason, but just to pass time, and fill my mind with words. It was just so easy to finish. I think it’d be a pretty good type of book to read in small doses, because the story line isn’t anything that needs to flow or anything.
I think this is the type of book that I should read for a little while, until I get into the swing of reading again. Maybe after I get used to action of reading, I can start up on “real” books again.
Right now, all I want is to read more. I think I’m going for quantity over quality at the moment. Chick lit, here I come!

Oracle Night

Oracle Night, by Paul Auster

Read by recommendation, this was my first book after the For Whom the Bell Tolls roadblock. I think I like stories that have an “interesting” plot, whatever that means. Oracle Night’s a pretty short book, which made it a little less daunting.
It took me awhile to get started with the book, whether it be because I had company over for awhile, so my normal times that I could sneak a couple pages in here and there were taken up by entertaining or the sheer fact that I was out of my “reading regime”. Anyway, at some point I finally got around to reading the book. It was a slow process.
Yet again, as with most of the books that I’ve been reading I started to get a little bored by the end. I was having problems with the fact that I couldn’t sit down for a long period of time and read a substantial part of the book. It was the old problem of getting frustrated because I didn’t remember what had happened in the story previously.
At the beginning of the novel, I was a little thrown off by the “footnotes” that were in the story. I had to keep flipping back and forward to make sure that I’d read all of the footnotes and main story lines. After awhile though, I thought the footnotes were kind of neat, creating a different twist to a normal story.
The middle of the story seemed to be pretty interesting, but like I mentioned before, the end started to drag on. I was expecting something great to happen, but in the end it just fizzled.
Yet again, a book that was just OK. A little bit intriguing with the footnote additions, but in the end, nothing too spectacular. I still don’t know how to describe the type of books that I like.
At least I’m reading again.

Next adventure looming

Tomorrow morning I will be getting on a bus, then a train, and then a plane on route to Budapest, Hungary. I will be there for two days, then go to Beius, Romania to help build houses for five days. Afterwards, I will return to Budapest for a night and fly to Athens, Greece. After two days in Athens I will be boarding a boat to cruise for four days around the Mediterranean, visiting Greek islands and making a stop in Turkey. I will return back to Neuchatel after this two week adventure and force myself to continue on with my dream life.

Booyah.

No updates until my return.

Paris Metro

Back from a weekend in Paris.
I LOVE Paris.
There's just something special about that city.
It's my third trip and I love the place even more than the first time I went.

I will write about the trip at some later time, but the point of this post is to say that I love the Metro.

Why? Because...
- It's quick
- I can drift
- It's a game
- It has lines that still run on wheels
- It has multiple pink lines
- It takes me from point A to point B
- I'm Amelie
- It's not confusing
- I feel anonymous
- It gets you anywhere
- It makes nice noises
- I can get serenaded

I want to do this with the Metro. I'm intrigued by this. And like this.

I can't wait to use the London Underground.

Still experimenting

A couple days ago, I cracked open a can of San Pellegrino Chino. I'd bought it in Milan the first time I'd been there, because I thought the can looked really cool. For some reason, I didn't open it until now. I think I initially wanted to keep it unopened, but I've realised that it really it's THAT difficult for me to go back to Italy to buy another can to leave unopened, so I thought I should probably give this stuff a try.
It's just pop, but a flavour that they don't have in Canada. It tasted yucky. Chinotto is "a small bitter citrus fruit similar to an orange giving an extraordinary distinctive bitter/sweet taste". It also gave a tinny aftertaste. A friend brought up the fact that I probably didn't really enjoy the taste of Chinotto because I didn't grow up drinking it, and he wondered if someone who had never drank Coke before wouldn't like the taste of it if they drank it later in life. I guess that's the same thing with me and strong cheeses. The only cheese I grew up eating was the yummy processed cheese slices (I really do like eating them), a couple Baby Bells here and there, a Laughing Cow triangle or two and of course any generic mozzarellas they put on pizzas or pastas.
So that's the Chino story.

I also tried Carpe Diem a healthy drink with ginko and good stuff like that. I should have clued in when the ingredients said something about fermented stuff. The only drinks that I've tried that include fermented stuff are alcoholic, and I don't like the taste of those. This stuff wasn't alcoholic, so I didn't mind trying it. It was all herbal and supposed to be good for you and stuff. Well, I don't like it. It tastes like something's gone bad (duh, it's been fermented). So I think I'll try it again. Oh, and the fact that the first time I went on the website, the quote they had was: "Don't reach for the stars, but seize this moment" (there are a couple different quotes that they cycle through) makes me dislike the drink even more. Of course you should enjoy the moment, but they're dissing people who reach for the stars!!! That's just pure-D wrong.
Ugh.

Sometimes experimenting with weird drinks works well, others, you just move on to the next and make mental notes.

Last day of skating for the season

The Swiss don't believe in ice time over the spring in summer. At least in the non-major skating centres.
It sucks.

Last night was my last night of skating for the season with the CPNS...they have their final gala this Sunday, and then the ice is taken out. The arena's used for concerts, conventions, when not booked it sits there. Using less energy and spending less money than if there was ice in there. I noticed that one of the concerts coming up is the 2005 Star Academy tour. That's right, Star Academy. Star Academy may be bigger here than American Idol is at home.
It was a fantastic night of skating. I don't know if the ice was nicer because they recently had the Junior Challenge Cup 2005, but the ice was so smooth and fast. I felt like I was flying out there.
My jumps were amazing, and I did a 2T2T.
I stroked around for a good 15 minutes at the end. Just doing crosscuts, and Russian stroking and stuff. It just felt nice to skate. I did lots of spirals too. I love spirals.
I'm so glad I skated well for the last day out. I walked out of the rink feeling 10ft tall. I was so happy, and just felt so, I don't know...good. Yet again, I got that great feeling that I can't seem to put into words.

I think it's SO important that everyone has something that makes them as happy as skating makes me feel.

I will never be mouled out

This week at the caf, it's Moules et Frites week. Mmmm..mussels from Brussels...
The caf has theme weeks every so often (just like most cafs do around the world). One week was rosti week, this week it's moules week!!! (I get very enthusiastic about seafood)
You may think that moules at a cafe would be a little sketch, but they're delicious!!!

They even give you four different kinds of moules to choose from.
1. Mariniere (plain)
2. Poulete (cream sauce)
3. Curry (uh...curry)
4. I forget (tomato sauce)

And they give you a BUNCH!!!
It's fantastic!
I've had moules everyday so far, and by no means am I getting sick of them. One of the lovely ladies there laughs at me because I love them so much, but I really do LOVE seafood that much. I do miss seafood. At home, we eat a fair amount of seafood, and here I don't cook it for myself, so anytime I get the chance to eat some, I jump on it!

Anyway, I can't believe I'm eating moules et frites in a cafeteria and enjoying them immensely. What a fabulous week.

Golden Gaels logos are everywhere...sort of

Someone I know was wearing a zip up sweatshirt with the Golden Gaels logo on it. Or so I though. When I asked her where she got it from (I knew she wasn't a student or alumni), she said that she'd actually bought it in Bern! Strange! She bought it only because it said something about Canada on it (it was a sweatshirt with three patches on it).
On closer examination, I noticed something odd about the logo. It didn't say "Golden Gaels", but "Golden Goalies". Hmmm...something wasn't right.
And below the crest was something about "Kingston, Canada", but there was also another city in there, that I didn't recognize (and that I can't seem to recall right now).
So it this sweater just like "Lido Dido 7-Op"? Or like the classics of "Panaphonic" and "Sorny"?
I didn't think Queen's Athletics was popular enough for Europeans to have knock offs for.
Weird.

Florence and Siena

Last Tuesday (the one before yesterday) was a Cantonal holiday. The equivalent of a provincial holiday.
We took advantage of the long weekend by going to Florence and Siena.
Florence was just like all the other European cities that I've been talking about (with the necessary components to make it indeed "European"), so I won't get too much into that part of it. I will mention that for some reason, I was expecting the Duomo to look like the Duomo in Milan (gothic in style), but I was a little thrown off by the fact that this one was made out of red, green and white marble (symbolic colours). It reminded me of one of those 3-D puzzles.
I was disappointed in the lack of shopping that Florence had to offer, or should I say, the lack of affordable shopping it had. Does every Italian city have it's own Via Montenapoleone district?
The famed leather market was kind of fun. Bartering is definitely an art form, and it's interesting to see different people make their deals. True personalities really come out when haggling for the best possible price that you can (or are willing to) get. The people who are shy seemed to settle more, whereas the aggressive one either got amazing deals, or just didn't get anything at all. You know how alcohol sometimes brings out ones true character, I think the same can be said for bargaining. When bargaining, sometimes I get caught up in the moment, and then don't end up buying anything because I think that I'll be able to get a better deal elsewhere, or don't want to eat my words when I tell a vendor that "I won't buy it unless you give it to me for x amount." I hate eating my words. They never taste good. I was eyeing a fabulous "monk bag". I liked the pastel purple one (think Easter egg shade). The leather was SO soft. Mmmm...baby lamb...(animal activist, don't go all crazy on me, I just say it how it is.) I liked the suede one. I just didn't want to spend the money on it. I can always go back if I really change my mind. I'm sure it'll still be there.
Ponte Vecchio was crazy. The jewelry stores were too busy with bling. Since there was so much quantity that they wanted to display in their windows, everything just looked gaudy. My taste in bags shows that I enjoy a good amount of "gaud" every so often, but this was a little extreme even for me.
Speaking of gaudy things and jewelry, I did buy one silly thing this weekend. A gaudy pink bracelet. Unfortunately it's not in the same style as my belt and bag (that would be TOO much), but it's got big pink baubles on it. It was more expensive than I would have wanted to spend on such a juvenile looking piece, but it was in a little boutique, so I wanted to support the designers...and heck, I fell in love with it, so why do I need to justify it?
Meals were crazy. I was recently going over the pictures I took from the weekend, and I'm convinced, that my face is fatter than it is now. I didn't realise that food can go to your face that fast. I was shocked. Actually, disgusted. Still, the food was worth it (for the weekend). Lunches and dinners were 4+ courses long. Man alive that food was good. I can't even describe it. It was just FAN-tastic! I did reach my food tolerance limit on the last day though. I just wasn't hungry anymore. I don't know how the Italians do it.
I'd heard about how there's random body parts in different churches, and how you could see these random parts. On our day trip to Siena, I saw two. St. Catherine's head and one of her fingers. Apparently Catholics like to have something to pray to, and that's why they've got her finger and head in this one specific church. I think I would have been more interested in seeing them if they weren't covered in wax (the skin/colouring and such). Seeing bones would have made me like the authenticity of it more. Also, the display of her head was far enough away that I couldn't see the little details of her face (or it could just be that I'm pretty much legally blind). Oh well, it was an experience in itself. I'd never seen anything like it.
The statue of David was really impressive. It was a lot bigger than I expected it to be. I also liked "The Prisoners". All of Michelangelo's works blew me away. How such a hard material could be chiseled into such beautiful shapes. How someone could understand form and dimensions SO well that models weren't necessary. It's incredible. We did go to the Uffizi and see famous things in there, but that kind of art isn't really my style.
Oh, something that really surprised me was the amount of English speaking folks there. I truly do believe that I heard more English (sans British accents) in Florence than I did Italian. Not only did it thrown me off, but it was a little bit of a disappointment. I like being surrounded by the native language when traveling. Even if I don't understand what they're saying. It's just so much more authentic.

Very random...

I wasn't there to witness it, but on a recent trip to Prague, apparently there was a Queen's Golden Gaels sweater for sale in a local shop. It was a plain, crew neck sweatshirt, with just the Golden Gael crest on it.

How curious.

Reading roadblock

I've been trying to read For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway, but three chapters in, I've put it back on the bookshelf.
I just don't find it interesting. I find myself just scanning the words, and going through the pages, but I'm not absorbing, or enjoying, or wanting to read more of the story.
I think I might just be a little intimidated by the fact that it's Hemingway (although I'm not sure why it would be intimidating at all), but the book just isn't working for me.
I'm going to move on to the next book for now, and maybe come back to this one.
I'm a little disappointed and discouraged, but hopefully I'll be able to find another book and get back into the swing of things.

The Jade Peony

Read on recommendation.

The Jade Peony, by Wayson Choy

This book started off pretty slow. I was a little turned off by the fact that the characters spoke Cantonese as opposed to Mandarin, so I wasn't always sure what they were saying, but the translations helped for sure. I didn't like that when I sounded out the phonetic spellings of the Chinese in my head, it didn't sound like words that I new, but as soon as I read on a bit and saw the translation, for the most part, I could go back and give the Chinese a Cantonese slant (or at least what I thought was Cantonese) and could often understand it. For the phrases that weren't translated, I couldn't always figure out what they were saying, which was a little annoying to me, but I figured that most people reading this book don't know Cantonese so it shouldn't be a roadblock that I don't understand everything that was being said. I think the fact that it was three little stories threw me off. In term of, "what's the point of the book as a whole?". After awhile, I just accepted that I was reading words, and experiences of three different people, and that their stories didn't HAVE to relate to one another. The first two stories weren't bad (once I got into it), but the third, I thought was a little dull. I had to flip through the last one a little bit. Especially at the very end. I guess I could relate (or at least understand) the cultural issues that were talked about, so that was nice.
In the end, this book wasn't horrible, yet another OK book. The fact that it ended on such a low note can't be a good thing.

The Da Vinci Code

After hearing way too many rave reviews about this book, I decided that this might be a good book to start my venture into the "literary world".
This by no means will be an extensive book review, nor will it be a spoiler for those who haven't read the book, it's just a forum for me to rant a bit, and hopefully encourage me to continue to read.

The Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown

It was OK. I admit that I had a difficult time putting it down. I liking the fact that the chapters were so short, because in my short reading blocks on the bus, I felt like I was accomplishing something by finishing one or two chapters in such a short amount of time. I did have to flip back every so often to remind myself what had happened in the previous few pages. It started off pretty good. I wasn't into the whole plot of it. I wanted to know what was going to happen. The middle-->end though started to get a little boring for me. It was all the religious talk I think. I just didn't find it really interesting. It seemed more like a history lesson, and I wasn't a fan. I did flip forward a couple pages every so often, because it was just too boring, and I wanted to get into the plot part of the story. I was hoping the fact that it was set in Paris (and surrounding area), it'd be more interesting, because I'd know of some of the places that are mentioned in the book, and it's true, that did help a bit (I was imagining the characters going from place to place - well actually Tom Hanks and Audrey Tautou going from place to place - can someone outside of the Neuch bubble confirm that this is true?), and maybe next time I'm in Paris, I'll look more carefully for some of the places mentioned. The "codes" were pretty cool I guess. I was hoping that there would be more of them.
In the end, I gotta say that this book started off strong, but towards the end, I just got bored of it. Even though I couldn't put it down, as I was reading, I was hoping that something great/exciting would happen, but it never did.

Reading

I've mentioned it before: I don't read.

I don't what it is, but I've never really been good at it. I find it really hard to walk into a bookstore or library and just pick up a fiction book and start reading. There's so many, so how do you know which one to pick up?

I usually try to read books that I know a lot of people have read. I figure if a lot of other people have read it, it can't be that bad. I think it just takes a lot for me to actually get started. Once I start reading though, I'm pretty good. The action of reading isn't horrible. And I do often find that if I'm reading a good book, I want to finish it right away.

People have asked me what kinds of books I like to read, so that they can give suggestions of what I might like, but I really don't know what it is that I like about a book, or what "genre" it is that I enjoy. I do know that I usually don't read books and look for deeper meanings (hence my dismal results in English courses).

I'm making an attempt to read more, because I know that it's good for you...and I'm game for anything that will make me a better person.

One problem that I've faced is that I often don't have time to sit down for a substantial period of time to read (or at least I haven't made time for it, or when I have time, I don't think of reading as how I should fill it). I've often tried to read on the bus or subway (thank you summer ROM jobs and RCM courses!), but what I've found it that I'll read a couple pages or whatever, but then when I return back to my book, I've forgotten what I've read and either get frustrated, or else I have to flip back (I hate to backtrack in life) far enough that I never seem to actually make any progress.

I tried a little bit in the summer, and it worked out quite well. I read the first two Harry Potter's (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets) and The Devil Wears Prada. All three were enjoyable. I also read Life of Pi, but didn't enjoy it as much (the bulk of the story was fine, but the end was blah...I felt confused after finishing the last page.)

I've consistently read John Grisham's lawyer books. It all started with an aunt giving my brother The Rainmaker, which I boldly started to read, and enjoyed, and since then, I've been able to make myself read all of his law-ish books.

I wanted to continue this venture, but I was worried that, well, once here, all the books would be in French, although my language skills aren't completely horrible, it's just not what I wanted. Sure, they have English books in stores, but I'm not a book buyer. I really don't find books a worthy investment. Similar to magazines, I don't see the point of spending money on them, because once you're done reading them, your done. If you read it again in the future, you know what's going to happen, or what it's about, so what's the point?

[Note: I'm only really talking fiction books here.]

Luckily for me, there are three special people here who have a plethora of books, and are so well read that I should be fine. Thank goodness for them.

Hopefully with this latest attempt, not only will I learn to fit reading into my everyday life, but I'll also be able to figure out what kind of books exactly do I enjoy. Thoughts, suggestions and opinions are always welcome.

What do I miss?

Lately, I've been wondering if there's anything that I really miss about home. Sure, the friends and family thing is obvious, but what about the other random stuff?
I've got some people coming to visit that keep asking me what it is that I miss most, that they can bring for me, and I'm drawing blanks.
Keep in mind, that I'm fully stocked up with canned/dried Chinese food items and maple syrup.
I'm really trying hard to think of stuff, but it's not working out too well. Is there really nothing so Canadian, that I can't think of something to add to my list?
The above is a little misleading. I mean, I DO miss stuff, but it seems that everything that I miss can't really be packed up in a suitcase and brought over for me.

Any suggestions of things that I might be forgetting about? (Maybe I haven't seen the stuff in 6 months, so I don't even remember that it exists.)

Let's see: (in no particular order)
1. White hot chocolates from Second Cup. "Skim milk, no whip". Especially from the location across from the ROM. (Yes, I know that they have the mix, but it's just not the same.)
2. Club Monaco/Caban
3. Bloor St.
4. That special tofu/fish dish from Sang Ho on Dundas
5. Mom's "sour and spicy" fish dish
6. Seafood in general (well, except for moules...I've had plenty of that)
7. Tofu
8. Skating at the Galaxy
9. Judging
10. Driving

I think I've fallen in love...

This past weekend we went skiing in the alps again. I go into the ski shop to get some gear and I see a guy with nice eyes, so I take a risk.
...
...
No no no, don't get your hopes up. My risk was to ask him about renting "short skis". Not quite "snowblades" (I don't think the store had them), but actually, short parabolic skis. They went up to my waist. I didn't really care what he gave me, I just told him I wanted to try something a little different, perhaps those "short" thingies that I'd seen other people wearing, so he gave me the short skis.
I'd heard about snowblades when they came out, oh, I don't know, back when I skied (so over 9 years ago). I'd seen people with them on in Canada, and someone had mentioned that I might enjoy them, because they provide a feeling similar to skating.
Anyway, so I'm ready to try something new. Sans poles, of course. I asked him about how they'd feel, would I be falling all over the place or what. He said, yes it's different, so I might have difficulty. I started to get a little worried that I wouldn't have fun with them, because the whole day, I'd just be re-learning how to ski.
The first bonus: Easy to carry! I've never been adept are carrying poles, and skis, so this was fabulous. I didn't have poles, and now I had tiny, light things to carry instead. It was great!
Once we got up the gondola, I put them on, and immediately I felt at ease! It was easier to "skate", I didn't have those stupid poles tying up my hands. I felt free!
When we were skiing, I had such a great time! I could go faster (and I wasn't scared to go faster for some reason), turns were easier, I loved the fact that I had my hands free. I felt like I was hopping back and forth more. It was just SO easy.
I'm sure I probably looked like my arms were flailing about, but I really felt in control the whole time.
The guy in the shop was right, they ARE skis to "play" with. I don't know why/how/what made them more "playful", but I really did feel like I was playing instead of just plain, boring, old, regular skiing.
I tried turning, and skiing backwards for a bit, but I think I need to try a little bit more next time.
I think I want to try the real Salomon snowblades sometime, because apparently they're more "playful", because both ends are turned up, making it even easier to do spins and stuff, but I've also been told that they're softer, and for "real skiing", they're just too shaky.

I forgot to mention that one of the reasons that I wanted to try these skis out, was because I'm considering investing in some sort of ski equipment. I wasn't sure if it would be worth it for me (I don't ski very often), also I'm still hoping that the art of snowboarding will miraculously appear in my muscle memory (I've tried twice, and I'm getting just a little frustrated). On top of that, I'm lazy, and don't feel like carrying around all the skiing stuff. Hence the short skis. I remember seeing people hop on the train wearing their boots and just carrying the skis. So convenient. So fun. They're still a trend, and like I've experienced, they really are more fun! Who knows...another potential money spending venture in the works!

I should have listened to my gut instincts

Before arriving, I thought that it would be wise to not try Chinese cuisine while here in Neuch (and Europe in general). I wasn't sure how real the food would be (I don't think I could have dealt with chicken balls and radioactive-red sweet and sour sauce), and well, my expectations would just be too high, no matter how good the food really was.
One night a couple weeks ago, a friend really wanted Chinese, so I gave in. I thought, might as well try it, because who knows?
So we went to a restaurant that was authentically decorated, and had a little worship/prayer/shrine thingy in the corner. We spoke French to the host, but I could hear Mandarin coming from the kitchen. Very well spoken Mandarin, with perfect accents.
The chopsticks were wooden, you know, the ones you have to break apart, but they were resting neatly on chopstick holders.
The menu was in French and Chinese. The prices were VERY expensive, but I'm told that Asian cuisine in Europe is still quite a novelty.
We decide on a couple dishes, and I looked at the appetizers to see if something caught my eye. Maybe a soup. I see "Pekinese Soup" (I think that's what was written), and notice that it's supposed to be spicy (the wheels are turning). I wonder if it's "sour and spicy soup", but don't really know what the French equivalent or the real English equivalent of the name is. So I asked the waiter in Chinese, and he says yes. Success! I would have also liked to get a tofu dish (I've been craving tofu recently), but my friend wasn't up for it.
The soup arrived, and I am happy to report that it was fabulous! I REALLY REALLY liked it! (And I'm quite the connoisseur of "sour and spicy soup" if I do say so myself.) It even had "black wood fungus" in it (no pieces of tofu though).
We'd ordered a random mixed mushroom and vegetable dish as well as a duck dish (along with white rice of course). I was EXTREMELY disappointed. The plates were tiny, and it was just a mixture of chopped up stuff. Your generic stir fry in sauce. How disappointing (especially given the cost).
Oh well, at least there was that soup. I'd go back to the restaurant and just order the soup (but nothing else...after this experience, I don't think I'd want to try anything else).

That's just the first experience. (You would have thought the first one would have clued me in.

Round 2:
Setting: New Year's Eve (this was asking for trouble)
I figure, it's New Year's Eve, I should probably go out and have a really good meal. Asian if possible. So I decide to go out with a couple friends for dinner at a local establishment (different from the first) that has apparently been featured in tourist brochures/guides/what have you.
The whole experience didn't start well. I mean, to get to the restaurant, you had to walk through a pub. It was 6:30pm, and the restaurant wasn't even open yet. In fact, we ran into the owner, who was hanging out in the pub. He said to come back in half an hour. A little annoying, but it's Europe, and they eat a little later here, so fine, we'll come back.
We return at 7:30ish or so, and in the pub, are greeted by another person. She asks if we don't mind having our dinner in the pub. Same food, but different locale. Is she kidding?!? It's New Year's. I don't want to be eating the best meal of the year in a smokey, loud, football on the TV pub. We say no, we want to eat upstairs (looking back, I can't believe we played along, and didn't get the hint that this was a sign of things to come). We follow our disgusted hostess upstairs, and (surprise surprise), we're the only patrons. Still, it's well decorated and they're playing ethnic music in the background. We sit down, look at the even-more-than-the-first-restaurant overpriced menu, which really didn't have too many options, and try to decide what we want. Every two seconds, the hostess/waitress comes over to ask if we're ready, if we really do want to eat, what we want to eat, what kind of food we want to eat, etc etc. (I'm a little ticked off by this point, but it's New Year's Eve, so I stick in there.) After awhile, we order a couple dishes and relax/chat for awhile.
The food comes, and while the appetizer was ok and the smell and sizzle of the hot plate dish was fabulous, the rest was...well...not.
Suffice it to say, it made me wish I was in Toronto, having a good meal at home. (No, not homesick, but sad.)
This restaurant did not receive a tip that night. They didn't deserve one, and their food was WAY too overpriced to begin with. I'm embarrassed at how much I paid for a meal I didn't enjoy.

The moral of the story: I'm NOT going to eat Chinese food in Europe. I will refuse.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I never really understood why this day's so special, and that statement's not coming out of bitterness or anything. I'm a very happy young lady.
It really is, just like any other day. I think the same about all holidays...they're just like all the other days in the year! I never really understood the fuss (although, as I've mentioned time and time again, I quite enjoy the lights, glitter and glam of Christmas).

I did find it funny though that this evening, the flower shop at the gare had the longest line I'd ever seen. It contained only men.

Fresh cut flowers ARE pretty special.

Vienna (finally)

I haven't written about my trip to Vienna over the winter holidays yet. It wasn't intentional, it just happened that way.

Vienna was wonderful. Another grand European city, complete with the necessary components that each European city must have:
1. A castle
2. A big church
3. A pedestrian street
4. A market
5. An open square
6. A LOT of museums

We visited Schonbrun castle, which was a knock-off of Versailles. Having been to the original, needless to say, I wasn't too impressed. I feel in my time in Europe, I've seen enough castles, that, well, quite frankly, they're getting a little boring. You would have thought that someone who loves sparkly and ornate things (along with "dream homes" - I used to love going to the Home Show and wish I had the perfectly decorated mansion) would love the glitz and glam of castles, but they just don't do anything for me.
Our hotel was really close to both the cathedral and the pedestrian street. I really love the hustle and bustle of big cities, and since we visited Vienna during the holidays, the streets were PACKED. I got that great feeling of being anonymous, walking down Yonge/Bloor Sts. I just feel FABulous strutting down the street knowing full well that no one cares about/is looking at me. I wouldn't change a thing.
Who knew? Vienna has some great shopping. And dare I say that people in Vienna were better dressed than in Milan?!? Perhaps too bold of a statement, but there were some really posh looking people. Fur coats were in full effect. Stilettos and uberchicness too.
We didn't visit any museums (except for the castle) during the trip. It wasn't a way that I wanted to spend my holiday. I didn't mind walking around and looking at the architecture and impressiveness of all of the buildings/structures/monuments/statues, but I wasn't prepared to read too much about them, or do the "educational" thing. I like when people tell me stories (so tours are okay), but my disliking of reading is too strong.

When we were there, we noticed a lot of pig figurines, candies and toys. We couldn't figure out why...I was pretty sure that the pig wasn't the symbol of Vienna, but we found it odd that they were EVERYWHERE. A previous post explains that they symbolize good luck, and the abundance of them made sense because we were there around New Year's.

Being the ultimate tourist (I think it's more the musician in me), I wanted to find the Danube and go to a concert. I have many snaps of me trying to touch the famed river, and we paid big bucks to listen to a bunch of Strauss, Lehar, etc. I was actually impressed at the programme, because it only had 2 overplayed pieces. Soon I understood. I think there were more encores than pieces in the programme itself, but at least it made for a super fun concert. It really wouldn't have been complete without the most famous pieces. It was kinda fun because the conductor sometimes played along with the orchestra on his violin. It was a bit Andre Rieu-ish, but definitely not as tacky. It helped that the musicians weren't dressed in period clothing, although instead of wearing all black like most orchestras that I've seen, there were some pretty ornate evening gowns. Oh, the concert hall was amazing.

Funny thing about my time in Vienna. In German, Vienna is Wien, so it was "Wiener" this, "Wiener" that. I kept getting really confused when I read signs. I could help but think of sausages, hot dogs, or frankfurters. You know, like, what's a wiener symphony? A wiener tour? They take you around and show you different types of wieners? Surely you understand my confusion.

Vienna is also on my list of cities to return to. There a couple things that I'd like to do/see that I didn't get to do/see this time, but no biggie, it's just an overnight train/short plane ride away!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year everyone!
It's my year, so I hope it's a good one!

Ugg(s)

Remember my rant on Uggs?
Well I saw red Uggs. I guess I can use that Dr Suess story afterall.
Darn those Uggs people.

Making the most of an experience

Written Saturday, February 05, 2005 @ 10:37pm

I went paragliding. I jumped off a mountain with a parachute (oh, and a man who knew what he was doing). I’ve never done anything like that before, and I loved it. I wasn’t actually scared or nervous (which surprised me). Of course I was really excited to do it. A little running, and we’re off. I actually thought he’d bailed and we were going to try again, because is didn’t seem like we were moving anymore. But then, all of a sudden, I realized that my feet couldn’t touch the ground anymore. I was surprised at what it felt like to be in the air. I felt like I was just hanging there. Not like I was zooming around, falling quickly or anything crazy. I felt like I was hanging there. Hanging in midair. We were only going at approx. 30 km/h. Obviously the view was spectacular. I couldn’t stop smiling. Then we went crazy. Bruno started doing crazy dips. It was such a rush. Like a roller coaster. I didn’t know where to look to focus. I didn’t know where was up. I was screaming out of sheer exhilaration and happiness. It gave you the top and bottom of roller coaster bumps feelings. The weightlessness…the heaviness. We waved at the skiers staring in awe. We waved at the people enjoying a drink on the alps. We swooped towards the slopes. We probably scared the bejeezers out of some of the skiers (especially since it was the bunny hill and they were probably freaked out to begin with). I took video footage. I made some snaps. I had a professional snap taken (complete with squinty eyes, and WAY too big of a smile). We flew over the town. I had my turn at steering. It was over too soon. A soft landing on powdered snow. I MUST do it again.

Some people gave me a strange look when they heard how much it was going to cost me, but I didn’t care. I’m NOT a big spender. Some may call me cheap. But, I look at things a little differently now. I am given opportunities that I may never have again, so perhaps it seems more expensive than is reasonable, but if it’s possible, I’m going to take full advantage of these opportunities and experiences. Hence the purchasing of 2006 Torino tickets (shhh…more details to follow MUCH later…just wanted to give a sneak peak of – fingers crossed – things to come.)

When do I have to wake up?

My skiing tidbits

Written Saturday, February 05, 2005 @ 10:29pm

1. It sucks to ski when you can’t make out the texture/consistency of the snow. You have to rely on quick reflexes and skiing skills, because you don’t know when you’re going to hit ice, a bump, powder, etc. You don’t even really know where the ground is and where you can dig into.

2. Skiing in the shade is darn cold. And the sun makes it easier to see the ground.

3. Zermatt doesn’t believe in moguls. They flatten them out if they start to appear.

4. My style of skiing is quick turns as opposed to wide swooping turns. I think it’s the skater in me. I seem to really carve on my turns to slow myself down and gain control. Like I’m digging into the ice.

5. I don’t like to go too fast.

Off piste

Written Saturday, February 05, 2005 @ 10:08pm

When you ski, there are areas that are marked off for you to ski. You know, trails. They usually have poles of some sort as boundaries. For your safety, you’re supposed to stay on the trails. Of course this means that there’s another option. Going “off piste”. This is where you may run into trees, rocks, you know, uncharted territory. Grounds that haven’t been skied on, with fresh snow.
Now, I’m NOT stupid. I’m not going to ski where it’s not safe. Think of it like how at Mount St. Louis/Dagmar/Blue Mountain/Whatever, you go off little bumps, or just off the course. Same kind of thing here. I actually didn’t go to completely uncharted terrain. I only when where I could see tracks (ie. a couple other skiers when there)

Note: I keep writing “skiers”, but of course I also mean snowboarders too.

Off piste means deep powdered snow. Think what you’ve seen on TV/movies where skiers are knee deep in fluffy snow in the middle of completely open terrain.
On one day, we found the perfect off piste area. I felt such a thrill. It’s such a different feeling skiing through that type of snow. On trails, you’ve got pretty much packed down snow, and maybe a top layer, but it’s still pretty hard. Off piste was a feeling that I can’t explain (seems like I’m having a hard time explaining many of my experiences).
It was really fun, but you’ve GOT to be careful when going off piste. You never know what kind of terrain you’re going to get. Trees and rocks can pop out of nowhere. You don’t know how deep the snow is (one off piste experience led me to do a face plant, because there was a huge pothole, but you couldn’t tell with all the snow on top of it, so I just sank into the hole, and kept tipping forward because, well, because the fronts of my skis got stuck and then I tipped forward until the action of face planting fluffy snow – I guess that’s one good thing about off piste-ing. It’s so fluffy that falling doesn’t hurt – but you can lose a ski or pole VERY easily.) Oh yeah, and there’s the whole thing about avalanches. Going off piste could potentially cause avalanches, but that’s if you’re doing some serious off piste-ing.
I feel like a pro now that I’ve off piste-ed. Booyah.

Still in awe

Written Saturday, February 5, 2005 @ 9:56pm

It was a wonderful week. I couldn’t not believe that I was skiing in, on and around the alps.
The weather was fantastic, because it varied and I could experience different things.
Sunny days were fabulous because the sun warmed you up instantly. I wanted to stop everything, lie on the snow and soak up the wonderfulness that I call my life.
One day was snowy. Pretty crazy to ski in, but it wasn't like in good 'ole Collingwood where sometimes they feel like ice pellets on your face (which is just a TAD painful).
We went at a perfect time. There was lots of snow on the ground, and conditions couldn’t have been more perfect.
While skiing, I had to stop every so often not just because it took a good half hour to get down the hill, or because I wanted to take pictures, but to just stare in awe. To breathe. To smile.
FABULOUS.
It hit me this week that this was a once in a lifetime experience. I am positive that if my dream didn’t come true this year, in my lifetime, I would have never heard of and experienced Zermatt.
I’m very happy.

The Prix and Lausanne

Written Saturday, February 5, 2005 @ 9:15pm

I'm SO glad that I bought tickets to the Prix. I went on Saturday and Sunday, to watch the Semis and Finals respectively. I was in awe the whole time, and sort of wishing that I had that talent and could join them onstage. It was weird, I mean, I know that it just wouldn't be possible for me to be that good, no matter how hard I try, so I'm not really jealous that I never had the opportunity to participate in something like the Prix, I just wished that there was some other form of dance that wasn't so "turned-out" oriented that I could compete with or perform with. I guess "free movement" was the closest I got, but it obviously didn't take me anywhere in the dance world. I'm still glad I did it though, because when I did free movement, I was always happy. Free. Into the music. I could express what I felt. I've posted on this subject before - you know, about how after awhile ballet just didn't do it for me. It was too restricting or something. Even when I was doing pirouettes and allegro, I had fun, but it wasn't completely wonderful.
Anyway, this was to be a weekend COMPLETELY alone and enjoying myself. I hopped on the train quite early Saturday morning, with the plan that I would wander Lausanne in the morning (shopping, discovering, getting my bearings) and then venture to the Theatre for the Semis which started in the afternoon.

A quick note: I had forgotten that Lausanne was the train station that I was stranded in when coming back from a weekend to Venice in 1997. Dad has remembered, and I remember he'd mentioned it again to me recently, but I honestly thought that it wasn't Lausanne that the wonderful experience happened at. My memory has always been pretty shaky, which is why I think I'm a pack rat. I hope that by keeping little tidbits, I'll look at them years down the road and then I'll remember events that happened. The digital camera's also coming in handy for that reason as well. I wonder if there's anything that I can do to improve my lack of "remembering capability".

The morning was wonderful. It was a little chilly, but popping in and out of stores and boutiques made it easier. Also, it was easy to keep warm for by the sheer fact that it was a constant uphill walk to wherever it was that I needed to go.
Everything was really close, even the Theatre. Funny how maps make everything look so spread out, but then once you walk it, you realize everything's so close. I guess I should have known. It's Europe afterall. Everything's close in Europe.
Finally I get to the Prix. I'm SO excited and I've got a wonderful seat. I'm absolutely blown away by the talented young ladies and gentlemen performing onstage. For the Semis and Finals, the dancers perform three pieces each. First, a classical variation. Next, a contemporary variation choreographed by artists who've come in for the week to rehearse with the dancers. So the dancers just learned the choreography that week as opposed to the other parts which they could have prepared for. Finally, there's a free component where the dancer can dance to anything (music, genre, style, etc.) in which the jury is looking for artistic interpretation.
For the classical variations, the girls either danced to Giselle, Raymonda, Don Q or Sleeping Beauty. The boys: Giselle, Don Q, Le Corsaire, La Sylphide.
For some reason, because everyone looked so "classical" when dancing their classical variations, I wasn't sure what to expect when it came to their contemporary pieces. Again, I was blown away. And the music was fantastic.
I didn't really take notes and pay enough attention to remember which dancers I thought would make it to the finals. I mean, as I watched, I made mental notes about what I liked and didn't like, but after leaving, when I looked at the list of competitors, I could remember which was which. I think for next year, I'll pay more attention to who's who, but this time around I just thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it.
I happened to sit beside some dancers who had already been cut. It was a tad annoying, because they were pretty catty, and bashing the dancers onstage. I like to enjoy dance in silence, that's all. Whatever.
At intermission, the jury walked by me to their room (it reminded me of when I'm judging at skating competitions and walking by competitors/observers who just stand and stare). I was in awe. Dancers have a special walk. I noticed that Karen Kain doesn't look as polished as I thought she would be. I think it's just that she's getting a little older? I'm not sure. She had that dancer neck, but I was expecting it to be MORE. Oh well.
I also felt myself standing straighter the whole time I was at the Prix. And looking at how everyone walked. I looked for the "waddle". If you know ballet, you know what I'm talking about. I didn't see as many as I expected. Maybe dancers don't waddle as much anymore. When they stood still though, there were some extreme "first positions" happening by nature.
I laughed when one of the free programs was straight out of "Centerstage". Yeah, the movie. He danced to the Michael Jackson song from the gala performance right after Ethan Steifel comes on stage riding his motorcycle.
Finals were fabulous as well. I thought that those who made it to the finals actually danced better in the semis. Perhaps it was nerves, perhaps it was me seeing it for a second time and being more critical. Whatever, it was still incredible.
Before the finals, the dancers had a short warm-up class on stage that the public could watch. Wowee Zowee! Sigh. I do wish I could look like them.
I don't even know how to explain more of what happened. It was just incredible, and I've already decided that I have to go again next year. The dancers were incredibly talented, and I was just so happy the whole time.

Speechless

Written: Tuesday, February 01, 2005 2:30am

I just finished my first day in Zermatt. I arrived here last night (even thought it's Tuesday right now, I still think it's Monday because I haven't gone to bed yet, so the day's still going on), but it was really late, I was tired, and it was so dark that I couldn't really get my bearings or anything. I just went to the hotel, settled in and then went to bed. It didn't help that the plan was to wake up early today. Like, eat breakfast at 8:30am and then head out to the slopes. I'm not a breakfast eater, but I figure that if I'm going to be out all day, I should force myself to eat something. For me to be able to eat in the morning, I need to wake up really early so my body is awake enough to digest the food (or else I get really bad stomach aches). I slept SO comfortably, and unfortunately my wake up call had to ruin it. It was still pretty dark outside as well. Whatever, it was going to be a good day. When I went down for breakfast, I got my first look of outside. I can't even describe it. Directly in front of me (just a little below our hotel) was a town of wooden chalets. In the distance was the alps. Snow covered and fabulous. The sun was shining down on them. I started laughing. I'm not sure why. Maybe because I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was tearing because of the sheer "oh my goodness" of it all. I really can't describe how incredible it is here.
The plan of the day was to ski to Italy. Is my life for real?!? (If you know nothing of Zermatt, I would have hoped by now you would do a little research on the net or something, but it's in Switzerland.) But yeah, we were going to ski into Italy. I couldn't believe it. And part of the reason that we had to leave so early in the morning was because it takes about an hour to get to the top of the mountain. An hour by high speed gondolas and lifts. Baby, this ain't Mount St. Louis Moonstone, that's for sure.
I rented my equipment, and we were off. The whole way up (which consisted of three different lifts - all gondolas/space pod looking things) we had to carry out skis. There were so many people, by the end of the hour, I was getting a little sick of going in those gondolas. I couldn't wait to actually DO something. Oh yeah, and in Canada they have dinky tags you hang from your zipper flap right? Here, they give you a card (credit card sized) which has a bar code that you have to scan to go on lifts and stuff. Hi-tech. I had the top of the line "International" pass, so I basically had free reign over everything available to me. We finally get to the top (thank goodness, I was feeling a little ill in the last gondola because we were standing up for what seemed like forever, and the thing was so ridiculously packed. We put our stuff on (I'm skiing).
I'm actually pretty nervous. I skied every year up to high school, but didn't really go since then. While you can't really forget how to ski, it still takes a little while to get the feeling back into your legs, and yet again, I must say "this ain't Mount St. Louis Moonstone". This was the friggin alps! Anyway, I was already in complete awe. I took pictures, we really really giddy, and the people I was with we getting a little bored of my enthusiasm and itching to start skiing. I had to put my camera away for fear that they would leave without me, and I would be stuff on the top of the alps, not knowing where to go. Oh yeah, walking towards the ski shop to rent my stuff, I got my first look at the Matterhorn. It was QUITE spectacular. I didn't loose sight of it for the whole day.
We started going down, me feeling a little awkward on my skis, but still doing pretty well, I thought. We only gone for a bit, and everyone stopped for a little breather. (Also to make sure I was still alive. They'd skied the day before, so they had their skiing legs already, and they didn't really know where my skiing level was.) I asked where Italy was, and was told that we were already there. Darn, there were no flags or anything at the border. I was expecting something cooler. Oh well. I also thing it would be so much more exciting if we had to show our passports at the border. Ha ha ha. Could you imagine?
The conditions were wonderful. Some powder (which I actually don't like too much, because I find it slows you down really suddenly, and throws you off a bit - I think I'm the only person who doesn't like powder), but good. The sun was really really warm as well. Sometimes the wind was really cold though. It really bit into your cheeks. It was so nippy that the plastic on my earmuffs got really brittle, and sadly, just a little bit into the skiing day, they broke. Argh. Oh well, good thing I had my kitty ears hoody. I love that hoody.
I kept my camera in my coat pocket all day so that I could whip it out for quick snaps. I was also skiing with my small MEC pack which had some extra layers, (I actually had to take one off soon after we started,) water, snacks, money, you know, all the necessities. It was fine carrying it around. No problems.
Partway down, we took my lifts up a little bit more, and then skied down and took different lifts up again. It was such a wide range. You could go to so many runs. Each of the lifts takes so long to get to the end. Not because they're slow (they're probably actually faster than anything I've been on), they're just sooo much longer. It was pretty crazy.
I had some freak out moments on some steep parts, and areas that were narrow and crowded, but I'm pretty proud of myself for lasting the whole day of skiing, after not skiing for a long time. And I was skiing on the alps, with wasn't exactly flat. I didn't really have any wipe outs either. Pretty good eh?
One thing I forgot to do was bring Euros with me. So I got a little ripped off in Italy when we stopped for hot chocolate and once again for lunch and I had to pay in Swiss Francs. Oh well. Whatever.
Skiing in areas of shade (where the shadows from the alps fell) was pretty crappy, because it was SO much colder, and because it was so dark. Who knew it made so much of a difference?
My quads and knees were also getting pretty yucked out soon after we started. I'm getting old and creaky. Sigh.
We basically skied from 10am (the time we got off the last gondola going up) to 5pm. By the end I was ready to be done. You know where you get to that point where you're starting to get tired so you know a really bad fall could be in the midst? It's the same with skating too. And I don't think I've ever skied for that long either. And on these kinds of "hills".
After sitting for just a bit in the hotel, we head out again to explore. Zermatt's a pretty cute place. I mean, it's a completely functional little city. Supermarket, stores, post office, churches, schools, the works. It seems pretty cool. I definitely want to explore some more. There was a really chill bar that we went to. Couches, artsy, trendy - you know, the vibe I like. After dinner, we went out again to check out the nightlife (hence me writing this at the time listed above). It was pretty fun. I miss going out. It's fun to do it every so often. It was snowing a little bit when we started coming back to the hotel. I wonder what it'll look like when I look out the window tomorrow morning.
I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe my life. This can only be a dream. A dream come true. I've written so much, but I still don't feel like I've explained the actual affect that being here has made on me. The impact. The "wow factor".
WOW.

Crisp button up shirts

Before I entered the working world, I had a dream. To be the one who wears the crisp shirts or pantsuits. The professional/trendy/stylish/cool/polished looking one.

For some reason I love the look of crisp, well-fitted, button up, collared shirts with pants and a nice pair of heels. I'd love to have a closet full of shirts, neatly pressed, of course. So yeah, that's the annoying part. I have subjected myself to a life of ironing. The things we do to look good.

This weekend I did a little shopping at Nara Camicie. Not a bad store. I bought a (gasp!) red shirt with wide cuffs, that I could use cufflinks for. Maybe I should invest in some cufflinks. How masculine of me to like wearing shirts and pants. And the cufflinks part too. The heels, well, I guess that's different.

Milan again

As I promised myself, I went to Milan this past weekend. Yet again, I had a wonderful time. It was actually the first time I took off for the weekend on my own and stayed at a hotel by myself, which was quite exciting. I actually didn't get to stay at the same place as last time because it was full (I didn't pre-book). The new place was actually nicer than the last...it was cool to have my own hotel room. (I LOVE staying in hotels.)
I wasn't by myself the whole weekend, some friends happened to be in Milan the same weekend, so I met up with them for a bit. It was nice to be on my own, but also spend time with them, especially since they lived in Milan for a year, so they took me around to some neat places.

Things of note this time around:

1. Went to a football (read: soccer for all you North Americans) game. Inter Milan vs. Chievo. Apparently, one of the worse attended games ever. Too bad. The stadium was enormous. I was quite giddy, because it was just so impressive and the fanatics were really entertaining as well. The final score was 1-1, and I was actually disappointed with the post goal celebrations of the home team/crowd. Basically, there were none! I mean, if the fanatics spent the whole game singing and chanting, why wouldn't they go crazy when a goal was actually scored? I was confused. Favs of the experience, seeing the many riot police (and secretly hoping that something crazy would go down), hearing the fanatics warming up their lungs as we were approaching the stadium and seriously thinking that it was a recording being projected over the sound system and going up the "towers" to the seats. I hope to go to another crazier game soon!

2. Milan has recently gone smoke free indoors. This seems like a pretty big deal seeing that it's Europe, and smoking is more accepted in society. I won't complain though, because it really was nice to enjoy, for example, a smoke-free meal and not having to air out my clothes later that night. Although, walking on the streets and in the stadium I was back to holding my breath.

3. Bloor St./Yorkville will never be the same again. I spent some alone time wandering the Via Montenapoleone area. It's a lot bigger than what I experienced the first time I was there, making the Toronto equivalent just not as exciting as it used to be. It was strange to see multiple D&G's, Gucci's, Prada's, LV's, Armani's, etc etc ETC within a couple blocks. And they weren't little boutiques each. They were full out stores. There was an Armani superstore. It took up the entire block and was its own department store. I'd say it's the size of Holt's on Bloor. It contains Men's, Women's, Children's, Home, Eyewear...I could continue on. It was UNREAL. I had a "I can't believe my life" moment, which I haven't had in quite awhile. (I wonder why?) I mean, I was strolling through the streets of Milan, looking at designer stores...it actually made me wonder if I do want to return to Toronto at some point. Shocking, I know, because my plan has always been: return to Toronto to carry on my "normal" life. Anyway, I don't want to dwell on that subject now. There's no point. Back to the wonders of Via Montenapoleone. I was actually too scared to go into any stores in the area. On Bloor, I feel like (this is going to sound really really weird, but...) I'm a different person, or that I'm putting on an act. It's my release. My make-believe land. My happy place. I wasn't completely able to be like that this time in Milan, so I couldn't bring myself to go into any stores. Not a bad thing (I'm not good at explaining this), but just how it was at that moment in time. I was quite satisfied with looking through windows. Next time perhaps I go in. Oh, and it was incredible to see the designers that I'd only read about or seen on TV in person. Sigh, it was fab.

3. Milan could be my bag city. I've acquired another one. It's a pink, sequined monstrosity and I love it. Cronch, remember we saw it, but I didn't want to dish out the cash for it...well, I did this time (sale!). Mom and dad, it matches my belt exactly. It was actually quite a successful shopping weekend. Two pairs of shoes, the bag, a jacket, shirt, and errr...some other stuff.

4. Shopping is basically the reason I went right?!? Well, not completely, I mean I wanted to get away and stuff like that, but it just so happened that it's sale season. Sales are fab.

5. Some restaurants have "happy hour". This means, if you buy a drink (alky or non) you can visit the little appetizer buffet at the bar for free. Tapas bar I think it's called?!? In Italy it's fine, because people don't abuse it. They just take a couple snacks and that's it, but I could see restaurants in North America going bankrupt if they started the same thing.

6. I like using the metro (read: subway) system in different cities. I think I'm pretty good at figuring them out and I just like the fact that if you go the wrong way, who cares, just get off and then try again. I know lots of people who are so nervous to go on the wrong train and stuff, but what's the point of stressing? If you're in a rush, fine, but if not, it's just another experience if you go the wrong way.

This is getting long. My attention span is fading. I think that's all I want to say right now.

I said I wish I could sing

...so here's a little ditty for you:

"I'm going to Milano, gonna spend me a lotta Euros..."

Peaches/Euros...Tomayto/Tomahto...why can't we all get along?!?

Come to think of it, I never did write about my trip to Vienna. Maybe I'll do that after I get back from Milan.

I wish

...that I could be in a musical theatre show.
I just got back from a wonderful little performance. It was basically three British, but French speaking ladies singing French and English songs. But the way they did it was so funny, and just made me smile. It was a wonderful way to end a pretty stressful week for me. There was live piano accompaniment as well.
I was just a fabulous, relaxing and uplifting 1.5 hours of my life. It really made me smile. I haven't felt that ____ feeling that I got so often near the beginning of my adventure. That's not to say that I haven't been enjoying myself lately, I just haven't had that ____ feeling in awhile.

Yeehaw!!!

We've got Canadian snow!!!

Yesterday afternoon, at around 4:30pm is started snowing. Fluffy flakes. Continuously drifting downwards from the sky. It was fabulous.
And it kept snowing on and off until now!
I woke up this morning to a white, winter wonderland. It was like I was at home! A good 5cm stayed on the ground.
On the way to the bus stop (I admit it, I was skipping) I saw people brushing the snow off of their cars, people shoveling their driveways and city workers shoveling the streets.
While on the bus to work, I saw kids having a snowball fight at a local elementary school and dealt with the "winter bus smell" that's just so distinctive of a cold and wet outdoors.

Sigh. Canadian snow is great.

Enough with the Uggs already!

One Ugg, two Ugg, black Ugg, blue Ugg.
...I forget the next line (and I've never seen a red Ugg before). Let me switch it up a bit.

Do you like Uggs here or there?
I DO NOT LIKE Uggs ANYWHERE!!!

I'm disappointed in Europeans. They have jumped on the Ugg bandwagon like there's no tomorrow. Uggs knockoffs are in full effect. There's a reason they're called Uggs. Because they're UGG-LY!!!

They just sound horrible.
Ugg.

They just sound slumpy.
Ugg.

They just sound frumpy...
UGG!

Argue all you want about comfort, but you're the same people who've embraced stilettos and pointy toes!!! Why start being comfortable now?!?

Oh, and is it even possible to walk in the things without dragging your feet?!? They make your feet look like ... oh, forget it! I refuse to spend more time writing about this matter.

Coupe Neuchateloise

This weekend was the Coupe Neuchateloise. A little invitational skating competition held in town. It was my first chance to judge since leaving Canada. Unfortunately, the year I don't think that I will "officially" be able to judge in Switzerland due to paperwork and stuff like that, but I was able to be the equivalent of a "trial judge" at the competition.
It was an interesting experience.
Quickly, on the judging front, it made me miss judging so much. I can't wait to really have my marks count. I mean, I'm glad that I got to at least trial, but it's just not the same thing. Still, I'm thankful. Oh, and Swiss judges have a different take on judging attire. In Canada we're told to dress warmly (of course), but professionally as well. I don't necessarily dress to the nines, but when on the stand, I feel I'm carrying out a job, and need to dress the part.
The Swiss dress to stay warm, from what it seems. Snowsuits are donned as are these things called "moon boots". No joke. I was in shock when it happened. Think blizzard attire. Quite a contrast from what I'm used to.
Luckily, everything else about the judging was the same, so I didn't feel too out of place.
The competition was cute. Small and drew some local skating clubs. Lots of enthusiasm in the stands and club spirit was great. Each skater was cheered for and after each program, the ice was showered with flowers and other gifts (at one point a bag of candy that was thrown onto the ice exploded and the skater had to pick up all of the individual gumballs that rolled around the rink). The awards presentation was great as well. The medallists didn't actually get medals, but little trophies. On top of that, they each got a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a certificate and a bottle of lotion?!? I guess instead of giving all participants a little thing when they sign-in for the competition, the Swiss load on the gifts at the end. They stand on the podium and the head judge for the event and the president of the host club makes the presentations. Pictures are taken and then the remaining participants are called in order of placement (oh, I forgot to say that the results aren't posted, but are announced during the presentations...so everyone in the competition is standing on the ice hoping that they will get called - hmmm...similar to OUA's?!?). All competitors as they are called with their placing stand beside the podium (in order) after shaking the hand of the top three or doing the three kisses thing. Even the little ones! How different from Canada! Great sportsmanship! Then the judge and president again present trophies, certificates and lotion (but no flowers) to all participants. SO different from home! The kicker. After the final applause, all of the participants take a victory lap around the rink!
All of this hoopla happens for every single event. From tiny tykes, to the big kids.
Makes it more encouraging to compete...you get a big deal made about you even if you come last.

I'm already looking forward to the next competition!

I'm going to the Prix!

It's official! I just got off the phone with the Prix de Lausanne folks whom I've purchased tickets for the semis and finals from. I'm SO excited!
Darn the fact that most of the seats were sold to "Friends of the Prix". So slim pickins. Sigh. Still, I guess I shouldn't complain eh?
I'm also excited that I had a good half hour conversation in French with the Prix people. Discussions not just about seats, but other things too...in French!
My French comes in waves. Some days I just ramble eloquently (well, not really), and on other days, I just can't seem to find the words. I'm still proud of myself.

Dad: I have yet to call "you know who", but I will this weekend, I promise.

One of these things is not like the other...

Downhill skiing
Tennis
Boxing
Football (err, soccer for the North American folk)
Speed skating
OR
Sumo wrestling




...





Actually, it's speed skating. The rest are part of the regular lineup on the EuroSport channel on TV. Who knew some of those sports were so popular here in Europe...ummm...especially SUMO?!?

When in Neuch and needing a Canadian fix

I've been craving chicken. Chicken wings. I've been able to indulge twice since being here. In two places you would never imagine being satisfied with chicken wings at.
1. McDonald's
2. Vienna
Yes, I know.
Thing is, chicken's not really the meat of choice here. In Canada it seemed like chicken was the staple meat. If you go to a big catered meal, chicken's going to be featured on the non-vegetarian entree. Here it's a little different. I'm all pork and beefed out.
Seafood's as common as it is in Canada (always a couple choices on menus), but to fill in the chicken void, there's a good mix of duck, rabbit and horse.
I enjoy duck. It's tasty.
Rabbit and horse I actually tried on the first day we went to the caf. I had horse stew and tried a little bit of a friend's rabbit. I haven't had either since. I'm willing to try most things, and they were both edible, but since there are other options always available to me, like I said, I haven't had either again. They just aren't as tasty.
Horse was a really tough beef-like meat. But with a different taste (no, it didn't taste like chicken).
Rabbit was sort of duck like in consistency, but with a different taste again.

Oh yeah, the Canadian connection. The horse they serve here is from Canada. Giddy up!

A thought

Will I really be doing the same thing for the next 42 years of my life?
It doesn't seem possible. I thrive on change and pushing myself to the next challenge. What is my next move?
42 years is a long time.

...

On Wednesday, January 5th, 2005 at 12 noon, Europe held 3 minutes of silence for the victims of the Tsunami Disaster in Asia.
Since the earthquake, I've tried to figure out if or how I would address this issue on my blog. I am still no closer to the answer, except that my fingers seem to be typing something at this very moment.
Do what you think best for yourself in this situation. Everyone has their own way of dealing with an event like this, and for some reason, I do not feel like listing possibilities or anything like that in this forum. I think that's for you to decide what to make of everything.
I've never been really good at realising the enormous effect/affect something like this has, especially when it doesn't directly effect me. I know of ~35 people (personally) that were in Thailand during the holidays who were luckily no in harm's danger, but did have to alter some of their plans and have heard talked to people who know of people in area who still aren't accounted for, but somehow in my genetic makeup I remain the same.
Still, I know I don't need to say it (because you'll do whatever you want), but..ummm...do whatever you want.

By request...

Taken from some quick research

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Global Good Luck Traditions for New Year's:

...here's a look at a good luck ritual from one part of the world. It is believed to bring good fortune and prosperity in the coming year.

AUSTRIA - The suckling pig is the symbol for good luck for the new year. It's served on a table decorated with tiny edible pigs. Dessert often consists of green peppermint ice cream in the shape of a four-leaf clover.

************

aaah. It all makes sense.