"Kenya" feel the excitement?!?

Har har har...okay, I have to admit that I didn't come up with the pun myself, but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to use it!
Anyway, in 47 minutes, we're heading to the train station to go to Geneva where we're going to stay for the night, and then tomorrow morning we're boarding a plane to Nairobi (via Amsterdam).
OH MY GOSH!!!
So today was the day that it actually hit me that I'm going to Kenya.
I will also have no internet access for two weeks. And very minimal electricity as well.

This also means that I didn't make my goal of being updates for my blog before I leave. I'm still missing posts about:
- Dublin
- Nice and Monaco
- Paris
- Berlin
- Lyon
...and other randoms.
Sorry...

To quote a MUCH younger me: "I'm outie!"

Beginning to falter

So at the rink tonight, I got off to a shaky start, but was determined to land some darn jumps. I felt powerful, but after 8+ 2Lp attempts, I figured it wasn't meant to be. I just couldn't punch out of the landing. I was falling on all of them exactly the same way, but I had no idea how to fix it. I decided to turn my attention to combinations and landed two 2Tf2Ts with ease. Soon to follow...three 2T2Ts!!! I was a machine! I couldn't believe how easy they were and how patient I was on the landings! I decided that I wouldn't worry about the 2Lps, but it still bothers me.
I wonder if I'm becoming more emotionally stable?

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Last night I went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. This was the first of the Harry Potter series that I'd read the book prior to seeing the movie version, and I think that it really made a difference.
I was disappointed for once.
I knew what happened and was going to be happening in the storyline of the book version, but only about a third of such events actually were carried out in the movie. Some of the parts in the book that I was most looking forward to seeing in the movie didn't happen at all, which really really sucked, but I guess I understand that there was a lot in the book that had to be cut out in terms of a time constraint on the movie. Still...I was disappointed.
It was, on the other hand, the first movie that I've seen in a long time (other than Joyeux Noel) that I sat through without looking at my watch to check the time or how much time had elasped.
Anyway, I felt like this movie was very different from the earlier ones in the series. The whole movie seemed very dark in nature and I felt like the actual sets were really different from previous ones. Hogwarts itself looked like a new campus, even the Hogwarts Express looked slightly darker, or more mature. The students were dressed differently, from their uniforms to their casual clothes...ugh, it was so weird.
The young actors and actresses in the movie have definitely hit puberty and are truly looking a little too old for 14 years of age. Even the older student in the school look too old, and there seems to be no lower year students (unless they made everyone in the movie older to convince the audience that all the students are around the same age). Before seeing the movie and hearing about how they weren't sure if the same actors would be in the next movie because they looked too old, I didn't really believe it would have any affect on my as an audience member, because I believe the actors and actresses to be the characters they play in the movie and thought that I would just believe that they are the ages of who they are supposed to play rather than the age that they look...well I guess I was wrong. It really threw me off, but if they have the next movie come out really soon, I'd like them to keep the same people (it threw me off enough when the actor who played Dumbledore changed).
I won't go into detail about the plot of the movie, because I sort of sum up the main ideas of the plot line in my post about the book.
Again, I was really bothered by the fact that the movie left out what I felt (when reading the book) were important parts of the storyline, or things that I thought would look really exciting on the screen. Certain things that happened made sense to me because I read about them in the book, but I felt like they weren't explained very well in the movie and that a person who hadn't read the book may be confused as to how something happened.
I did like the awkwardness of teenagers when interacting with the opposite sex, which brought on a couple laughs, but I felt like the movie was being rushed through (partly, I think, because I felt like it was missing a lot of important elements - again, from the book).
If and when I do go back to Canada, I'm excited to see a movie in English that won't have subtitles in multiple languages at the bottom of the screen. They're really really distracting, cause I find that even though I perfectly understand what's being spoken in English, my eye doesn't want to watch what's happening in the movie, but rather read and follow along with the French subtitles.
It was quite dark and could be extremely scary for kids watching the movie. There was just a really dark tone to the movie. I think it might have had to do with the colouring, because even some of the happier moments felt dark. It really didn't feel like a kid's movie, whereas the first couple definitely did.
I also thought that this movie would be hard to watch if you didn't know about the first three books. The storylines didn't really overlap or anything, but I felt like this one didn't give you enough background about the characters and settings, and instead launched straight into the plotline (again, felt like I wasn't being eased into the movie, like they were really rushing through things). Maybe someone who hasn't followed Harry Potter would think that it was fine, but it really didn't feel fine to me.
Harry and Ron felt like different people to me, whereas Hermione did well. I still don't quite like this version Dumbledore...he's too loud and forceful. Hagrid and Snape are still great as are the Weasley twins. Mad Eye Moody wasn't bad and for some reason, I was expecting more out of Rita Skeeter (I think I read a review somewhere that talked about how she was one of the best parts of the movie). Voldemort was quite good.
All in all, I'm glad I went to watch the movie, but it just didn't seem to flow from the previous ones of the series. I felt like it was a completely different style of movie, catered towards a different kind of audience and took a lot of shortcuts with the storyline. That last part disappointed me the most, and I wouldn't have minded sitting in the theatre for an extra hour so that more could have been included.
But that's just my take on it.

Even though I really want to read the next book(s), I'm seriously considering holding off until the movies come out. It made this movie experience not as enjoyable as the first three...so...anyway, I'm not really sure what to think. Pros and cons either way, but so far I'm leaning towards not reading the book. Problem being, I was planning on taking the next one to Kenya.

-picture courtesy of www.harrypotter.warnerbros.com

There's nothing quite like it

Just got back from the rink and it was fantastic. I have found out that now I can skate for about 45 minutes and then after that, my body can't take it anymore (my endurance is non-existant).
I did all the jumps possible, including two 2Lps and since I felt pretty good, I decided to try some 2T2Ts, which I haven't bothered trying in a long time.
I landed two great 2Tf2T and then finally, just as the session was ending, I landed a (small) 2T2T (after falling on two really good attempts). I haven't landed one of those in over a year at least.
I'm telling ya, there's something about being emotional which gets you skating well. There's got to be some kind of hormonal link or something. Or maybe it's that I've brought my abs back from the dead. Or even that 4 months of being back and walking on European terrain is finally taking effect.
Whatever it is, it feels great and really helps me be me.

Taking it all in

When I visit a new city, I get this strange sensation that my body increases its surface area, my pores open up and my pupils dialate or something.
I just feel like all of a sudden I'm able to experience and take in more things than usual. Almost like things around me are going in slow motion and I can observe and absorb more information that is being bombarded at me.

I think I might be an alien.

____ no more

I may have decided on a name for ____. Annie. I'm not sure if it really fits or not, but when I was chatting with him/her (part of the problem I suppose) last night, I thought it might work out. I can't quite tell though if Annie doesn't like French though...cause that would be a problem.

(I'm so clever)

There's definitely a correlation

Strange how when you're really emotional you tend to skate really really well.
Tonight I landed 6 double loops. I don't think I've landed that many in the last 6 years combined!

It just feels so good to skate...

Movenpick Cinnamon & Plum Ice Cream

It's been a long time since I did a review of a chocolate bar, but that's with good reason. I haven't eaten a chocolate bar since then!
I recently tried the Limited Edition Movenpick Cinnamon & Plum ice cream, so I thought I'd share my thought about it.
Movenpick ice cream is good, there's no question about it, but this is definetely a strange combination. I'm not even sure how they came up with this one. I like each of the components, but as a whole, I'm undecided.
It's sort of like the plum part of the ice cream is a "ripple" or a "swirl". You don't really taste it throughout the ice cream. If you get a spoonful of the plum part, it's really tasty, but if not, I feel like the rest of the ice cream is a little too cinnamon-esque. But it wasn't a good kind of cinnamon. It wasn't like a cinnamon heart or Hot Lips kind of cinnamon...just something different. You could tell there was a lot of spice in the ice cream (and I don't mean "hot") but it was like a weird mixture of flavours. Holiday-esque perhaps...it reminded me of that 5-spice stuff my mom puts on turkeys. A melange of spices.
The ice cream (although this is quite often the case with ice creams) leaves a bad aftertaste in your mouth.

I would not order a large bowl of this ice cream, but I would enjoy a scoop of it (if it included a lot of plum "swirl").

-picture courtesy of www.moevenpick-icecream.com

St. Nicolas

As the holiday season is approaching, I wanted to tell you about some traditions over here.
So December 6th (tomorrow!) is a special day. The night of the 5th, children leave shoes/boots outside the doors of their houses in hopes that St. Nicolas will leave presents/goodies by them that night. Santa Claus is also supposed to show up Christmas Eve, so I guess they get double the presents over here.
This past weekend, I went to the town of Fribourg to watch the arrival and address of St. Nicolas to anyone who would listen (which was a LOT of people, apparently). This is an annual tradition that they have on the Saturday closest to the 6th, and it's a pretty big thing for Fribourg.
I hadn't visited Fribourg before, so I decided to make a day of it. I wandered the town, did a little Kenya shopping (I have to train my mind to search out brown, green and khaki coloured clothing - not a natural thing for me!), wandered the markets, saw the cathedral, walked the pedestrian walkway, saw the chateau, crossed the river. You know, the usual!
Is got pretty chilly waiting for the guy to arrive, but it was worth it. The streets were packed with people of all ages, and obviously lots of families with young children.
He arrived with a fanfare. Following a marching band, children holding candles, other holding a rope so that the crowd would not stampede St. Nicolas, some people with their faces painted and dressed up in black and finally, St. Nicolas riding on a donkey. He threw candy to the children and climber the stairs to the balcony of the cathedral.
From there his microphoned voice boomed across the square (sorry, the microphones covered up his face - could get the right angle to take a snap of his face) and he told us (in French and German) about how we should be individuals, not conform and feel pressured to wear t-shirts that say "Brice" on them (ha ha ha...he made reference to Brice de Nice!!!) or to step into the age of not "William Tell", but na-tel (French for cell phone) among other things.
I definitely didn't understand the whole speech (and not just the German parts). I'd like to blame St. Nicolas himself, because he was speaking so slowly and yelling the words, that I had trouble piecing the words together into phrases. So my French isn't where I'd like it to be yet. Darn.
He ended his speech and created this scary moment (which confused me...I thought he was supposed to be non-scary and stuff). He waved at the crowd, descended the stairs and the crowd dispersed and a moment of ooh-ing and ahh-ing and flash photography ensued after a projection of a stain glass window styled image of St. Nicolas appeared on the cathedral facade. It was beautiful.


So St. Nicolas is here to spread the love and there's lots of lights and sparkly things all around, making me a pretty happy girl.

Introducing Mocky and ____

I just wanted to introduce you to my two new German friends that I met in Stuttgart. Surprisingly there isn't a language barrier.





This is Mocky.











This is a super soft donkey without a name.






-pictures courtesy of www.steiff.de

Pi party

Sure, it wasn't March the 14th, but this past Thursday night I had a little pi party which involved eating pie and watching Pi with a bunch of fellow math lovers.
What an interesting movie. In high school I remember watching the first little bit of it and being intrigued and knowing that I wanted to watch the whole thing in the future, but it wasn't until the pi party that I followed through with this.
The movie is about a number theorist who wants to find the patterning in life among other things. It's a very very artsy movie, so I definitely don't understand all of the meaning behind the different things that happened in the movie. It was a little too bizarro for me. Yet, I still liked it. I think that has to do with the fact that there were so many math references in it. It was noticed though that the special number was different every time it came up on the screen. I wonder why the producers didn't make sure that was consistent. Strange.
Anyway, a horrible attempt at a movie review...all you need to know if that if you like bizarro movies with lots of symbolism, watch this one for sure.
And also: Pi Parties are FAB.

-picture courtesy of www.pithemovie.com

Stuttgart

I love Europe. One short train ride away and not too many CHFs gets you to another country. I wanted something a little different. Somewhere that I could feel anonymous. I figured that Germany would be a good place to go, because I know no German, and therefore wouldn’t understand anyone, not be able to talk to anyone, could remain in my bubble and just enjoy my surroundings.

I decided to pick Stuttgart for November 4th-6th because I’d heard of the place (thanks to ballet), and it was pretty close to the Swiss border (making a weekend trip feasible). I did a little bit of research about the city before I went, but didn’t really know much at all...and I didn’t really mind. After all of my travels, I’ve figured out what type of tourist I am. I’m not really interested in museums and such, but enjoy seeing people, building from the outside, and like bus tours. I don’t like walking tours very much. I like taking subways and walking around on my own time. I like walking in parks and pedestrian areas. I like to have a map at my disposal, but hardly ever use it. I collect pamphlets from hotels to read about the area just after I arrive to the city, and plan out where I want to walk the next day. I may circle a couple things on the map, but after I get to a general area that I think I should visit, I start to wander without following a map or plan of attack. I often skip meals, because I’m too busy wandering. I like to go into grocery stores and buy food that I can just eat in the hotel room where I can sit in front of the TV and veg and relax my feet after a long day of walking and I’ll always try to buy some "different" kind of drink or dessert to try.
The German equivalent of the TGV was really really nice. The seats were bigger, more comfortable, you had more leg room and the car itself was so much cozier. Little things like the lighting and wood paneling compared to the dank and dingy red/purple décor of the TGV made all the difference.

The next morning, I decided to go wander. I didn’t have anywhere in particular that I wanted to see, but with my map, I’d circled a couple things that might be of interest. I quickly found the pedestrian shopping street, and some landmarks (including the opera house of course) that I snapped some pictures of. In one of the main squares they were setting up a winter bazaar complete with a skating rink. They had mulled wine and different foods and sweets that are so typical of such a set up. Sausages, candied nuts…I got white chocolate covered strawberries. Pretty yummy.
I found the "expensive shopping area", the "trendy shopping area", the "boho shopping area", you know how they always have places like that in every city. The Germans really like their shoe stores. There’s tons!
I really liked the park with the man-made pond that you could see almost all of the major buildings from, and after picking up a map and getting some information from the tourist office, wandered into the music conservatory and up to the terrace on the top level to get a panoramic view of the whole city (okay, so Stuttgart isn’t THAT exciting to look at from 11 floors up). The TV Tower was closed for renovations or else I probably would have visited that too. I followed a little self-guided tour that the tourist office provided and found that I had visited most of the recommended places on my own that morning before I had gone to the tourist office. Boy, am I good! I didn’t take the subway (you know that I would have liked to, but I just couldn’t justify it for one stop), but I sure did a LOT of walking. It was nice. I really felt like I was airing out my head and feeling good about being me.
I found the Holt Renfrew of the city, and really wanted to make a purchase there (I was drooling over some bags – especially the big Luella tote...I need an oversized tote) and I was close to buying a really German, cool, thick felted passport holder (well, an organizer that I would modify), but it didn’t have the right pocket that I wanted. I hope I find one soon. I just know that I’m going to get one soon.
I really like markets, and even more so if it’s the holiday season. The farmers market in Stuttgart was very multicultural. Well, mainly Greek, but still, I wasn’t expecting that at all. Above the market were shops which were fabulous. There was a home decorating store (very Christmas driven at this time), tea and coffee shop, l’Occitane, hair salon, clothing and jewelery designers. I was so happy in that building.
I wanted to find something to do at night. I was thinking about going to see Mamma Mia, but figured I probably wouldn’t enjoy it if the inbetweens were in German. Then I had my heart set on going to see La Traviata at the opera house, but unfortunately it was sold out. I was disappointed beyond belief and frustrated the sales ladies weren’t slightly more helpful about last minute tickets or no-shows. Sure, I didn’t speak any German, but I didn’t think there was any reason for them to be rude and hasty. That left me in a pretty bad mood. So I didn’t end up doing anything exciting that night. I just went back to the hotel (after about 10 hours of walking) and relaxed for the rest of the evening and went to bed quite early.

I try to purchase something special from each major trip or country that I visit. This time, I didn’t find something that would be an "investment", but something (well, somethings, actually) that made me happy. The only reason I knew anything about it, was by watching all of those antique/auction TV shows that the British seem to love so much. And I happened to see it in Stuttgart by randomly walking by a store. I purchased two Steiff stuffed animals. I looked into getting the popular bear, but they looked really not so nice, so I decided for something that would make me smile. I am now the proud mother of Mocky the hippo and _____ the donkey. The donkey didn’t come with a name, and I can’t think of a good one. They are both very lovely and have a stylish gold stud earring in their left ear.
I also used my beautiful pink m0851 duffle on this trip. I love that bag so much. Definitely no regrets there. I’m already thinking about my next purchase.

The next morning, I figured out when I needed to get to train station and planned out the rest of my day accordingly. I was so glad to have taken this trip, it really helped me with...well, just...stuff. I slept in a bit, and then went down to have a leisurely breakfast. The spread at this hotel was pretty intense. From pickled fish to rhum balls to springrolls. It was pretty funny. I definitely took some stuff for the train ride home (including a big pretzel – what’s a trip to Germany without eating a big pretzel?). I had seen everything that I really wanted to the day before, I so I wasn’t planning on doing anything too exciting this day. Just another walk around town to breathe in more air and see the surroundings. Stuttgart wasn’t too exciting in terms of things to see, and there wasn’t anything monumental from a historical perspective (at least that interested me), it was just hearing the German being spoken, seeing the market, the structures and the people that interested me. It was a good weekend trip. I felt like I saw everything I wanted to see in the city, and would go somewhere else the next time, however I really enjoyed my time there. I saw some nice things, and was happy to be there.

I love being in Europe and too clear my mind and spend some time on my own, I can just take a train to another country and experience a new city and take in new expereinces!

First snow of 2005-2006!

I was expecting snow today, but Neuchatel snow usually isn't anything exciting, so when I woke up to this, I was pretty excited. It's not the most flattering picture of the area, but whatever. You get the point. There was a bunch of snow on the ground.
So now I'm at work, and getting ready to go to a Cheese Factory. How Swiss.

Brice de Nice

A couple weeks ago, I watched Brice de Nice, a movie that all of last year, there were a bunch of ads on the TV about this movie, and afterwards, lots of ads for getting ringtones from clips and songs from the movie.
I’m almost positive that this movie didn’t get to Canada, but it’s quite easy to sum up the storyline. There’s this guy, named Brice...and he’s from Nice. He’s a surfer dude, and that’s about it. He has long blonde hair that falls in front of his face and needs to fling his head back every so often to get the hair out of his way, but not completely getting it out of his face.
I was scared that I wouldn’t understand the movie since it was all in French (okay, I guess this was the first movie that I’d seen all in French before Joyeux Noel), but there were French subtitles if I needed them. I’m proud of myself though. I knew what was happening, and even though there was some slang, I did okay. I guess the language level was a lot lower than in Joyeux Noel (or that my reading skills really helped), because I felt a little bit more overwhelmed watching Joyeux Noel.
This movie is par to Dude Where’s My Car. Not a classic movie by any means. It’s really light, ridiculously silly, and I wouldn’t watch it again. It was funny to say that I’ve seen it before (after all the hype from last year), and that I had another opportunity to practice my French skills.
Anyway, if you want to watch a really pointless movie in French, with a funny musical number, watch Brice de Nice. It’s a good laugh.

-picture courtesy of www.bricedenice.com

Domino

I saw this movie in Belfast and was the first movie in a long time that I saw in English without having to be distracted by subtitles and such.
Domino is about Domino Harvey, daughter to British actor Laurence Harvey and supermodel Paulene Stone. Played by Keira Knightly, who is in almost every movie out right now, I have to admit that I didn’t quite enjoy this movie.
Okay, I fell asleep for part of it. This doesn’t necessarily mean that I thought that the movie was boring, but I was REALLY tired. As soon as I sat down to watch the movie, I was ready to fall asleep…and I guess I did. Not for very long I don’t think. Maybe 15 minutes or so.
I was really distracted by all of the bright lights and changing colours and loud sounds. I can’t even really describe much about this movie, I guess meaning that I didn’t really enjoy it much. It felt like the movie was trying too hard to be an artsy movie, but it just got really annoying.
The film includes a cameo by the real Domino Harvey, who committed suicide soon after the movie was made. Coincidence? I wonder.
Well, this was a disappointing "review" about the movie. I don’t think I could do any better seeing as how I don’t really remember much about the movie itself. I must say that I cannot recommend this movie.

-picture courtesy of www.dominomovie.com

Joyeux Noel

Seen in Paris, on November 12th, this was the first movie I’ve seen in French without any subtitles, or watching the English version prior. I lucked out a bit because some dialogue was in English (with French subtitles) and German (with French subtitles, and I’m okay at reading French).
Joyeux Noel takes place during World War I and is about the cease fire of the Scottist, German and French troops on Christmas Eve of 1914. We are involved in the lives of a romantic couple, a family, a leader and many other people and how they are affected by this war. It is based on a real story, although I’m sure some of the scenes were romanticized for the movie version.
As I mentioned in my post from last year I don’t really feel anything when it comes to Remembrance Day. This year, I wasn’t at the same ceremony that I was at last year and didn’t get to walk the battlefields and trenches, yet this movie really moved me. My heart actually hurt for awhile while I was watching some of the opening scenes. It wasn’t as gruesome as Saving Private Ryan, but it sort of had that same effect of me cringing and feeling rather uncomfortable.
I really enjoyed the use of music in this movie. Since two of the characters were opera singers the idea of music in the movie was inevitable, but even the use of incidental music, along with the particular singing music selections that were used were very fitting, and emotional.
I had a little bit of difficulty with the French speaking...it was a little bit fast for me, but with the other languages being used along with the subtitles, and of course the fact that visuals give away so much, I followed along with the basics of the movie.
The movie was of course very emotional and in the "drama" genre, but it did have some really nice funny moments.
I felt that the end of the movie cut short a smidge. I felt that some issues were unresolved and that I wasn’t sure (maybe because I don’t have a firm grasp of history, and how this story played out in real life) how the different groups in the movie continued on, and what happened to them soon after the movie ended. It seemed like because it was a movie, they wanted to leave off as a happy ending, but wars aren’t always happy, so I would have liked to know more about what happened after the movie ended. A quick blurb at the end of the movie as is often seen would have been sufficient I think.
I’m not sure if this movie is out in Canada or not, but I would recommend this movie for sure. I was lucky enough to watch it just one day after Remembrance Day, but it would be a great holiday movie as well.

-picture courtesy of www.joyeuxnoel-lefilm.com

Decision time

A) taking a pill once a week, but side effects may include depression and nightmares

OR

b) taking a pill once a day, but side effects may include diarrhea

The chance that the side effects happen are equal in both, and depend on the person. I know of people who have taken both and have and haven't had the side effects. One example of nightmare under the drug was stabbing themself in the hand with a pencil.
I know it would such to have the second side effect, but the first one makes me think that I'm going to go all delusional and stuff.
I should also say that I have issues swallowing pills. The pills are of approximately equal size and are NOT sugar coated. Darn it. They are more flat tablets rather than long pills. I get the feeling that I won't have access to yogurt to mix them in.

P.S. They're to prevent me from getting malaria in Kenya.

I Dreamed of Africa

I Dreamed of Africa, by Kuki Gallmann

Some of you may know, that from December 17th 2005 to January 3rd, 2006, I will be in Kenya. It will be a once in a lifetime experience. I can tell.
Anyway, as a lead up to this experience, I decided to read I Dreamed of Africa, by Kuki Gallmann, the founder of the conservation site at which we will be staying at.
The story is non-fiction and is about Ms. Gallmann’s life in Africa. It described how she ended up there (after growing up in Italy), her relationships, her friendships, her encounters, her experiences, her dreams, her passions, her children, her loves and so much more. She is a woman who has experienced much and seems to live life to the fullest and enjoy the simple things. She loves animals and the nature. She breathes in the air and takes nothing for granted.
This wasn’t the most compelling book that I’ve ever read by any means (I flipped through the last half of it I think – didn’t really feel like I actually missed anything important, I glanced over the pages and if any words stuck out as I was flipping, I would stop to read a sentence here or there), but I do have a certain image of what I imagine Africa to be like. It’s an amalgamation of movies, TV shows, pictures, books and stories that I’ve been exposed to. I’m sure that when I arrive it’ll be nothing like what I expected…it’ll be better. I don’t think anything can prepare you for a trip like this one. It’s like before the first time I came to Europe. I had a stereotype of what I thought Switzerland would be like, and Leysin was a perfect place to end up because it is quite stereotypically Swiss, but it was so much more than just the picture in my head. It was being there in person, seeing the mountains, smelling the fresh air, standing in the clouds that made it different from everything that I’d imagined, for had a picture of Switzerland in my head, but it never included me in it.
I too have a picture of Africa in my head, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot see myself in the picture. I can’t wait to get in the picture for myself.

-picture courtesy of www.chapters.indigo.ca

Mezzo Mix

This past weekend, I tried a new drink. It’s called Mezzo Mix and apparently it’s produced by CocaCola. It’s apparently (though I didn’t look too closely at the label when buying it) orange flavoured cola. Now, if I had knew this at the time that I forked over the cash, I probably would have picked something else…you see, I like to say that I’m allergic to Coke, Pepsi and Root Beer. I don’t think I am, but let me give you a bit of history about that decision.
Back in the day when there was always a cooler filled with a variety of pop cans in the trunk of the family car that toted me around from extra-curricular venture to venture (especially in the grey station wagon days), I used to enjoy a pop after a trip to the ballet studio (usually a good half hour drive to the intended destination – which could have been a variety of places…long enough to drink a pop, for sure). I enjoyed orange Crush, Sprite, 7up, Wink, Mountain Dew and maybe my favorite, Hires Root Beer. Anyway, at some point, I noticed that everytime after I drank root beer, I would get these rashes on my hands. And from that point on, I told myself that I was allergic to Root Beer, and similarly Coke and Pepsi (maybe because of the colouring or something?!?). I’ve heard of people becoming allergic to something that they’ve had in excess, so this was my rationale. I don’t know if I ever really seriously believed it, but I never actually drank the stuff, until quite a few years later, I drank a can of Dr. Pepper, and had no reaction. I also had a “shot” of Coke in 1st year university (whole other story) and didn’t react to that either. Bottom line is that every since I was young and got these rashes, I never really drank Coke, Pepsi or Root Beer. I figure it’s probably also better for my health that I don’t drink these products (although that’s more of a recent idea from a couple years back to convince myself to continue not to drink these products). I do enjoy root beer gummies though, and still like the flavour of the products, and enjoy smelling a friend’s pop every so often to remind myself what the stuff smells like.
So this brings me back to Mezzo Mix. I drank it, and I have to say that I probably would buy something different next time. I think it’s because I haven’t tasted Coke in such a long time that the “cokeness” of the drink was a little bit overpowering. I couldn’t taste any orange at all (don’t know if it was truly because there wasn’t much orange flavouring in the drink or the “cokeness” was too much for me to take)…it was a strange drink.
Leads to a question…am I still "allergic" to the stuff? Well, I didn’t get the same rashes that I got when I was younger, but after awhile I noticed these weird, itchy bumps on my palms. Was probably just a fluke, but I’m still going to tell people that I don’t drink Coke/Pepsi/Root Beer and if they ask why, I’ll either tell them I’m allergic, or if I feel like elaborating, well, I’ll tell them what I just wrote here.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, by Mark Haddon

One of quickest reads that I can remember (sure, it’s a pretty small book, but I still went through it really really quickly), I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading this book.
I read through it really really quickly. I guess it was a page turner. I wanted to keep reading to see where the story went, and therefore started to read faster, meaning that I started skimming, but that was bad becuase then I wasn't absorbing as much. So I had to force myself to read slower so that I could take in all the words on the each page.
I don’t want to go ever everything that happened in the book, because I think the less you know about the book before you read it, the better. It’s better to discover and uncover as you read.

I will include the paragraph written on the back cover of the book:
"Christopher John Francis Boone knows all the countries of the world and their capitals and every prime number up to 7,057. He relates well to animals but has no understanding of human emotions. He cannot stand to be touched. And he detests the color yellow. This improbable story of Christopher’s quest to investigate the suspicious death of a neighborhood dog makes for one of the most captivating, unusual, and widely heralded novels in recent years."

As an educator, I loved this book. As someone who enjoys math, I loved this book.
I still am not good at deciphering why I like certain books, or why I like certain movies. I know why I dislike them, but the same cannot be said for the opposite. Hmm, I wonder why this is.
One thing that I can say about the book it that I wish it was longer. I wanted the sotry to continue to see what would become of the character and how the relationships would evolve and/or change.
Anyway, back to the point of this post. Read this book.

-picture courtesy of www.chapters.indigo.ca

Match Point

Last night, I went to watch Match Point. Before I went to see it, I did a little bit of research, going on the web to read about the movie, watch the trailer and read some reviews. I'd never heard of the movie before, so I had a little work to do because I don't like watching movies that I don't know what they're about. The trailer looked pretty good to me. I don't think I'd watched any Woody Allen movies (although after the movie, someone told me that this one wasn't anything like the other ones that he's made), so I didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that I would be watching a "Woody Allen" movie. Scarlett Johansson's pretty happening right now, and from what I can tell her movies seem to be more of the type that I would enjoy, so I was willing to give the movie a shot. And the trailer looked not typically "big picture" Hollywood, which is always a good sign.
It was only about 2 hours long, but it felt like a really long movie. I liked the first hour, maybe hour and 15 minutes (the theatre was too dark, I couldn't see my watch), and then the tone of the movie changed, and it got a little boring. I felt like events started happening at too slow a pace and because I felt like I knew what was coming, I got a little agitated. I've watched quite a few movies recently that I've tried to look at my watch during, which leads me to think that either: a) my attention span is shrinking or b) I have been watching some pretty boring movies. The movies themselves aren't longer or anything, so I know that's not the problem. I'm hoping that the type of movies that I've just been attending aren't "my type". I gotta ask some friends from home about things I should watch. They always watch cool stuff.
So the movie's about a former tennis pro who comes from a not very well off background and is working his way up the social ladder. He puts effort into this, but admits that there are things in life that result from luck. He meets his future wife (who is from a very wealthy family) and is greeted with open arms into their family, but becomes tempted by another woman who is struggling to move up the social ladder herself.
Anyway, as mentioned before I predicted what was going to happen (or maybe the older I get or the more I watch movies, the better I am at predicting what's going to happen), and there was definitely an exasperated "that's so lame" moment. Ooops, I definitely think I said it out loud too. But to give the movie some credit, you knew right from the beginning that it would happen, so whatever...it just made sense.
Okay, so I didn't love the movie, but I didn't hate it either. I wouldn't highly recommend it by any means, but watch it. It's not that bad.

-picture courtesy of www.matchpoint.dreamworks.com

tidbits

Monday night I saw two small groups of children going around my town for Trick or Treating.

Tuesday night @ 6:32pm, the temperature in downtown Neuchatel was 16 degrees celsius.

This morning I saw a brown squirrel.

I just got back from a fabulous game of ultimate and for once didn't get blisters (wore bunga pads around my feet).

This weekend I am going to Stuttgart. Unfortunately, the ballet is on tour in Japan.

I exactly one week I will be on a plane heading to Nice, France. I will be doing a day trip to Monaco. I will be flying to Paris from Nice. I am planning on getting my hair cut in Paris. I will fly to Berlin from Paris.

I still have to write about my trip to Dublin and Belfast.

Wallace & Gromit - The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

Last night, I went to see Wallace & Gromit - The Curse of the Were-Rabbit...all by myself. It was the first time I went to see a movie in a theatre by myself and given the events of the rest of the day (I was in Basel - might write up about it) I was totally unfazed by this challenge. It was just one of those days that doing stuff on my own was liberating. I thought it might be weird to go watch a movie by myself (kind of like going to eat out by myself, but that turned out really well, so whatever) but wanted to see a relaxing and hopefully funny movie to end of a splendid day. The one annoying thing about experience (other than the fact that the ticket was 18CHF!) was that I had settled myself into a balcony seat (granted, the seats were HUGE and you could fit a whole row of seats in the space between each of the rows - although that meant that there was nothing to put your feet on) which I switched to after feeling like the ground floor seats would make me have to watch the whole movie practically lying on my back, there was a pretty rude sounding lady with her husband and two grandchildren/children (you never can know these days) telling me that I was in her seat. She was speaking to me in English with a British accent (a lot of the theatre goers had British accents (Basel is in the German speaking part of Switzerland, so were all these people ex-pats? Tourists?). Now, I have to say that in all of the movies that I have gone to see in Switzerland, on the ticket, yes there is an assigned seat, but you don't actually sit there. It's first come, first serve, like in Canada. Since I wasn't 100% sure this theatre was the same (even though no one else really looked at their tickets to see where they were sitting when they walked in the door), the balcony seating was still pretty empty and the fact that there were two young children with this rude lady, I just got up and changed to another equally good seat. Rude people are the pits.
The lovable duo of Wallace (a machine-for-all-things inventing human) and Gromit (the one-who-runs-the-show dog) are preparing along with the rest of the community for a "largest vegetable" competition. The duo also form the company "anti-pesto" who rid the community of pesky little rabbit who terrorize the vegetable patches in the community. Through a love interest (Lady Tottington), a thwarted lover (Victor) and his trusty bulldog sidekick (forgot the name), a new invention, a ton of big vegetables and oh yeah, a "were-rabbit", Wallace and Gromit save the day.
The movie was pretty funny I guess. It was light like I imagined it would be. I remember the original movie (or was it a series?) and Chicken Run being a lot funnier though. I think I laughed out loud once or twice throughout the movie (that's pretty good), but I was hoping for more.
Like most "children's" movies of this day and age, there's a layer that the older folks in the theatre can appreciate. Things that the little ones won't pick up on. For example: Lady Tottington referring to her melons while standing behind them and a particular angle, or Wallace strategically wearing a cardboard box which reads "may contain nuts" to save himself any further embarrassment...you know what I mean.
You want a relaxing, funny, fabulous work of claymation? Watch this movie!

-picture courtesy of www.wallaceandgromit.com

Thorntons - Oriental Ginger

Thorntons - Oriental Ginger

Again, purchased in Dublin, this is a bar with some serious ginger kick. Described on the wrapper as: "a chocolate truffle covered in dark chocolate with crystallised ginger", I would agreed with their statement about the ginger (you can see the ginger layer in the bar), but I wouldn't go as far as to call the interior a "truffle". More like a toffee consistency type of dark chocolate. I love eating ginger in my food, not even just ginger flavoured things, but actual pieces of ginger, however this was a different story. It was just TOO overpowering. I remember eating a chocolate covered piece of crystallised ginger a bunch of Christmases ago, and this bar reminds me of that. There's just too much ginger, so much that it's actually giving me a headache now, and the chocolate isn't of a good enough quality (could also be because it's dark chcolate and I don't like dark chocolate as much) to balance it out.
I say, pass on this bar, unless you're feeling daring and want a crazy ginger kick. You don't have to love the taste of ginger, just love a tacky, over the top ginger thing. I can't even describe it...but it's not a good thing.

-picture courtesy of www.thorntons.co.uk

Tough gig!

Yesterday at work, I'm slogging away right? It's a tough life out here and anytime I looked out the window, I had to deal with even more stress. This was the view...





Let me zoom in a bit for you in case you missed it...








On the way home, I'm walking through my little town...







And just before I get home I pass by...







And then I have to content with the view from my balcony.




Tough gig!

Happy happy!

Skating season started again for me last week. Huzzah!
Tonight, I skated in a cloud! So fun!
I love how when you first get back on the ice (especially after getting your skates sharpened after having them dull for a whole year) you can do everything!
Goal for the year: learn how to backspin the opposite way. Oooh...toughie.

Thorntons Chocolate - White

Thorntons Chocolate - White

Purchased in Dublin (post about that trip to come), this is just a plain white chocolate bar. I often find it difficult to compare white chocolate bars because they are so sweet, so you don't taste the flavour of the white chocolate, but the uncomfortable ghetto Easter bunny chocolate taste. This is never a good thing...so...I guess I don't enjoy this chocolate bar that much. It's just too sweet. Maybe I'm losing my sweet toothness, but I couldn't handle eating too much of this chocolate. Perhaps the quality of it really isn't the best...who knows? It's very similar to the white chocolate from Laura Secord, but I've only had that with almonds in it (mmmm...white almond bark) to it was weird to taste the same thing without crunching on nuts at the same time. White chocolate is one of those things that you can't eat too much of I guess. I'd say, if you want some super sweet chocolate, this would be a good one to eat. It's a little plain, and for a really good quality chocolate, plain is something that you can savour, but this one just doesn't cut it for me. A so-so kind of bar.

-picture courtesy of www.thorntons.co.uk

Always half-full

Written Saturday, June 04, 2005 @ 10:08pm

I’m glad I’m an optimist. I’m glad that I look for the good in situations. I’m glad that I take every experience as something to learn from. I’m glad that I think everything happens for a reason. I’m glad that I can enjoy anything. I’m glad that I’m naïve.

The history:
Wednesday, May 11th, 2005:
During the afternoon, I notice that my inner right ankle is swollen. I don’t really think much of it, because it doesn’t hurt or anything, but it’s weird that it’s so swollen…also, that I can’t figure out why it’s swollen. I mean, I didn’t twist it, at least I didn’t remember doing anything weird to it, but it’s me, and I’m always doing weird things to my feet. Well, as time goes on, it still remains swollen and it actually starting to hurt a bit, but still I think nothing of it, and that I’ll just take care of it that evening and then it would disappear the following day.
That evening, I feel exhausted, and my ankle is really starting to hurt. I go downstairs to put in a load of laundry and have to hobble a little bit to get there. Oh well. Back in my apartment, I’m quite tired, so I decide to take a nap while my laundry’s being done. Skipping dinner, I go to bed and a couple hours later, I wake up to quite a lot of pain in my ankle and thinking that I should go get my laundry. I try to stand up, but my exhaustion and pain is just too much. I decide that I can leave the laundry until the next morning and I drag myself to get a drink because I’m so thirsty. I’m limping horribly. I return to bed and hope for a much better scenario the next morning.

Thursday, May 12th, 2005
In the wee hours of the morning (or maybe super late the night prior), I had to hobble to the bathroom, and moments later I woke up from a most comfortable slumber, only my bed seemed a lot harder than usual. Turns out I was comfortably lying on my back on the bathroom floor. Using a towel to cover me like a blanket. I was obviously confused about how I got there (you may jump to the conclusion that I fainted - but I refuse to believe it), and was actually seriously contemplating staying there for the night because I was so comfortable, but I thought it would be wise for me to head back to my bed because I probably wouldn’t be able to hear my alarm clock from the bathroom floor and then I wouldn’t be able to make it to work on time.
I wake up to my alarm clock and need to get downstairs to get my laundry. I’m really hobbling, but I have to get my laundry because it’s someone else’s day now and I’m got to clear out my stuff. I guess I wasn’t paying much attention to what I was doing the night prior, because I didn’t close the lid where the detergent goes in and so I couldn’t open the door to get my clothes out of the machine (later that day, it turns out that not closing the lid mean that the wash cycle cannot be complete and so there’s still water in the machine and that’s why the door wouldn’t open). I decide to leave the machine for now and go to get my laundry that is hanging on the clothes lines. It’s really early in the morning (I need a lot of sleep), so I’m pretty tired still and don’t have very much energy to reach up and take my laundry off of the lines. I can pull off the clothes that aren’t attached with clothespins, but the ones that are, I can’t seem to muster the energy to reach the pins. I feel really tired, and actually decide to lie down on the floor and close my eyes for awhile. After a few short moments, I decide that I should maybe go back to my apartment and lie down there, because a) someone might come and see me lying on the floor of the laundry room, and b) there’s probably something wrong with me if I need to lie on the laundry room floor.
As I make my way up the four flights of stair to my apartment, everything starts going black. I blindly make it to my apartment and go straight back to bed. After a few moments of lying there, I realize that I probably can’t walk to the bus stop to get to school. I make a couple calls, and it’s decided that I will be picked up and taken to the hospital. I won’t be heading to work this morning. I go back to bed and wait for my ride to arrive.
I wake up to the doorbell, and hobble to the door and greet the neighbour whose laundry day it is. She tells me that I need to get my stuff out of the room, and I deliriously tell her my predicament and how I just can’t seem to get the machine door open. Since neither of us realize what’s actually wrong with the machine, we think it’s broken and the lady will wait until later that day to talk to the concierge about fixing the machine. So I feel horrible that she can’t do her laundry, but I head back to bed.
My ride arrives and come in to see me (I left my door unlocked for her). She’s brought me crutches, which actually make everything worse, because my balance seems so completely off on this day. I’d rather hobble and hold onto the wall. When I get to the top of the stairs, I really feel like I need to sit down. It’s decided that I shouldn’t try to walk downstairs, and that I will have to miss my doctor’s appointment. As I sit leaning against the wall completely exhausted, my ride calls work to see if two of my male colleagues can come and help me down the stairs. After waiting, I hear another female colleague’s voice coming up the stairs. To my horror, almost in slow motion, I see the faces and hear the voices of two students from my school. I am horribly embarrassed. I feel horrible. I look horrible. Now, two of my students have to carry me down four flights of stairs. They’re two of the nicest boys, and try to make me feel better and crack jokes, but I’m too embarrassed. I thank them profusely, and ease myself into the car to be driven to the hospital.
Once at the hospital, I’m taken on a wheelchair into emergency.


Continued writing on Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Four months later, and I think I’d ready to finish writing about my experience. Not only do I feel like I’ve completely recovered from the experience (sauf the little scars I have – not emotional ones, I just mean physical ones) and I think I might actually be a little bit closer to being caught up on my blog and have a little bit of time to sit down and type a little bit about the experience once again. (I’m concerned that if I put it off much longer I’ll forget about little details that happened.) I really had difficulty writing about this experience for some reason. As positive as I feel about it, for some reason, at the time, while I was recouperating, it was really difficult to re-live what had happened.

…I get settled in a room and a doctor comes to look at me. We chat for a bit (en Francais, bien sur!) and turns out that he’s originally from Canada. As we’re chatting, he’s measuring various things, examining my ankle, taking my temperature…hmmm…a nice 39.5 degrees. Well, since I’m so used to hearing about body temperatures in Fahrenheit, this news means nothing to me (except for after he tells me that I have a fever and that 37 is a normal temperature, but 2.5 degrees isn't much right?!? -- the reasction of my friends told me that I was wrong). So he decides to hook me up to an IV to get me cooled down a bit. They’d like to take a blood test too, because they’re not too sure about what’s going on. My white blood cell count is a little high, but they figure it’s the fever/sickness. Nothing alarming. They ask me about my ankle. I tell them that I haven’t done anything to hurt the actual ankle itself, and they notice the scar on my blisters on my insteps and wonder about that. I tell that them a couple weeks ago I had pretty bad blisters from playing ultimate frisbee in England, but they seem to have healed up by now. They’ve just left some scars. Blisters aren’t anything new. I was a dancer. Blisters don’t scare me. They scar me, but they don’t scare me.
Anyway, I’m coughing pretty badly (but of course that’s not a big deal, because I’ve had this cough for awhile, and coughs eventually go away on their own, right?), so the doctor wonders if maybe I’ve got a lung infection or something. The doctors really aren’t sure what’s wrong with me at this point, but they decide to continue with a string of tests because it seems my fever is a smidge higher than it should be.
I get wheeled into the x-ray room. They would like to take x-rays of my ankle to see if in fact there’s something broken (but I just didn’t know it had happened) or if there’s anything else that they can detect that isn’t normal. They also wanted to take x-rays of my chest because my horrible cough was concerning them. I was nice and comfy lying on the bed of the ankle x-ray, and then they asked if I could stand up for the chest x-ray. So, I stood up and everything seemed to go black, so I mentioned to the technician that I felt a little weak. He asked if I could stand for just a little bit, and that he’d take the picture quick, and I said sure. I felt a little weak, but I stood up long enough for the picture to be taken and then I lay back down on the bed afterwards. It was such a relief just lying on the bed. It was a strange sensation, because anytime I was being spoken to by the doctor/nurses/anyone else, I felt completely fine. I could carry on conversations (in French too – meaning that I had to really concentrate), but as soon as they left the room, I was very happy to just close my eyes for a little while until they returned (when I would become very alert again). Anyway, the technician asked if I could stand up again, because he needed to take another x-ray. Sure, no problem. I felt a lot stronger this time around, so I stood up. The strange thing was, that I remember sitting back down soon afterwards and it was like I wasn’t in my body anymore and that my body was shaking, even though my brain wasn’t telling it to. And even more odd was that my brain felt like it was in complete control and that there was nothing wrong, because when the technician asked if I was alright, I vividly remember telling him the honest truth in that I really was feeling fine, but I just didn’t understand why my body was shaking so much. He looked really concerned, but asked me one more time, if I could stand up. I stood up again, holding on to the machine, honestly feeling fine, actually a lot stronger than the first time I stood up, no blacking out or anything (I think maybe though I was keeping my eyes closed to concentrate and conserve energy), but the next thing I remember was that…


It is now Thursday, October 13, 2005

…I was lying on the bed and a nurse walking away from me and the technician talking on the phone to someone else (couldn’t hear the conversation, but I presume it was about me). I think that *maybe* I fainted. (You can probably tell by now that I think I'm invinsible.) Anyway, the technician figured out a way to get the x-ray that he needed while I was lying down. Much easier for me.
I was feeling pretty tired I guess.
After the x-rays, I was wheeled up to another floor to get some ultrasounds done. I haven’t had an ultrasound in awhile, but they’re cool. The super cold jelly stuff they put on you and then you see this cool picture on the screen. I’m all for seeing what they’re doing and seeing the inners on my body. I mean, I don’t get to see the insides of my body on a regular basis, so I might as well make the most out of the chances that I’ve got. I got an ultrasound of my whole right leg. Not just around the ankle, but all the way up along the inside of my leg. From the discussion, I think all that they could see was that my veins were a little bit enlarged, but they didn’t think anything of it.
Back down I went to the emergency clinic (by the way, I still had this annoying IV stuck in me) and waited. I don’t think that they released me until 6:30pm-ish. So a whole day spent in the hospital. They released me because they couldn’t find anything wrong with me, and that my temperature had gone down to 38.something with the IV. They gave me prescriptions for antibiotics, pain killers, anti-inflammatories and a stomach calmer. Let me explain. Up until this point, I thought I was allergic to amoxicillin. I vividly recall an incident when I took a horrible tasting (chalky, very bland) liquid amoxicillin (pink in a huge ghetto medicine brown bottle), and subsequently vomiting in the sink. The doctor never prescribed amoxicillin again and on all medical forms since then I have listed said medication as an allergy. First thing in the morning when the doctor was asking me if I was allergic to anything, I told him about amoxicillin. He asked me what happened, and proceeded to tell me that it wasn’t an allergic reaction to the medicine, just a reaction. Of course I was very skeptical about all of this (I’d spent a long time believing that I was allergic to the stuff), but he was the professional. I guess the language issue made me a little bit skeptical as well (although, I was pretty sure I understood everything that was going on throughout the day). Little did I realize that he would soon be putting amoxicillin into my body through my veins. Unless my allergic reaction was tiredness, I guess I wasn’t allergic to amoxicillin afterall...but due to my vomiting history, the doctor prescribed me to tummy calmer-downers to prevent any possible vomiting accidents.
Oh, and you know how everything’s apparently more expensive in Switzerland? Well medication definitely goes with that train of thought.
I’m staying at a friend’s place that night, because they’ve got an elevator (still not quite able to walk), and when I return to their place, I fall asleep. They wake me up for dinner (I’m supposed to have food in my system for one of the pills that I’m supposed to take), but I’m not really hungry at all (come to think of it, I haven’t eaten anything all day – remember the barrage of tests? I guess they weren’t too concerned about giving me a lunch break) and I am forced to have some soup along with a sandwich. Then comes the fun part. Swallowing these huge pills. I’ve never been a pill girl. I’m a fan of the liquid medication variety. I was proud of myself when I took these HUGE pills after I had my wisdom teeth out, but for some reason, the ones this time around didn’t go down as easily. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. There was almost some vomiting involved, but it wasn’t because of the amoxicillin.


Today is Friday, October 21, 2005

Anyway, I basically slept all night and was woken up the next morning to make sure that I wouldn’t miss my check-up. I felt better...I could put a little bit of weight on my foot, so that’s a good sign. The date was May 13th, 2005.
I went to the hospital clinic to get checked out and the doctor immediately took my temperature and declared that I had a fever of 39.7. They took more blood and found that my white blood cell count was even higher than the day prior. Not good. Next they had a specialist (whom I would later learn was a surgeon – sign of things to come) look at my ankle. Soon the word "abscess" was floating around. They weren’t sure where it came from, but there was an infection around my ankle and they wanted to operate on it to make sure that it didn’t spread. I remember that at the time they didn’t really make it sound like a big deal or anything. I’ve never been afraid of hospitals (I actually really enjoy them, and doctors, and medical procedures for the most part) so that combined with the doctor’s tone of voice made me think that this wasn’t too big of a deal. It was morning, so I sat around waiting for them to tell me what would happen next. I heard rumblings that I would be going in to the operating room that afternoon, so I just lay on the bed and relaxed. I wanted to my friends to call my parents at home to let them know what was going on because, well, I thought they might be interested. My friends had just stepped out for a moment (we had all thought that the morning’s appointment would be a quick one in which the doctors would just tell me to keep taking the medication and then send me home) and would be coming back later to pick me up. A nurse came in to my room and told me that I needed to get ready for my operation…immediately. Hmmm...I asked if I could wait a bit for my friends to come to pass on the message to call my parents, but the nurse said there was no time. I had to go to surgery immediately. That’s when I realized that maybe I was a little bit sicker than I thought I was.
I bet my friends were just a little surprised when they came back and heard that I was in the operating room.
Anyway, they let me keep my glasses on (thank goodness) and gave me a choice. To be asleep or wide awake. Of course I chose to be awake for the operation. I wanted to watch if possible I said. They said that I would be lying down with a curtain around me, so I probably wouldn’t be able to watch what would be happening. I came prepared. With my digital camera (I’d post the picture, but there may be some skittish people reading this). The local anaesthetic was probably the most painful shot I’ve ever had. It was on the top of my right foot. The anaesthesiologist had a little difficulty finding a vein in my foot and he admitted that there may be possibility that I would have to be put under because it’s so hard to find a vein in feet, but on the second try he found one.
I was wheeled into the operating room and chatted for the whole 30-45min surgery. We talked about what was happening, how it looked, how it felt, discussed the photo, etc. I remember a moment where the anaesthesiologist asked if I could lift up my leg, and I was trying really really hard, but it felt like it weighed a ton, like someone was holding it down, but I couldn’t even feel that person’s hands. At least I knew that the drugs were working. I remember discussing what the abscess looked like. A huge pimple. A pus filled pimple. ("C’est comme quoi?" "Un peu degoutant." "Est-ce qu’il y a quelques choses dedans?" "Oui, pus." "Pus?" "Oui, pus." "Comme...errr...pus?" "Oui!" "Quel couleur?" "Le couleur de pus." "Un peu jaune?" "Oui." "Oh...interessant!") They drained the pus (okay, bacteria) away to the lab to be tested and I asked (again) how I got this infection. They said they had no idea, because I’m so healthy otherwise. They asked again if I was pregnant. I said no. They asked again…like, was there ANY chance that I was pregnant. Err…no, I was pretty sure I wasn’t. Then they asked if I might have AIDS. So abscesses are a sign of AIDS? Well, in a very very minimal chance, yes. They just couldn’t figure out where I got sick from, so they said I could be tested just to make sure. Sure, why not. The surgeon also mentioned that my infection hadn’t spread to my ankle itself, and after the fact they started telling me about just how serious this infection could have been, and how they were really concerned that it was going to spread and that’s why they wanted to operate immediately. They saw how much havoc it was wreaking in a completely healthy body, so they were really worried. Good ‘ole naïve me just thought that it wasn’t anything serious.
In the recovery room, they took my temperature, and I kid you not, now that my abscess had been drained, I was back to normal. That put everything into perspective for me. The moment they get rid of my infection, my body calms down and goes back to normal. Wow. It was then that everything that had been happening for the past couple of days made sense. My ankle was swollen because of the infection. I had a fever and my white blood cell count was out of wack because my body was trying so hard to fight off this potentially, errr, dare I say, fatal infection. It makes sense.
It was Friday, and they were expecting that I would be able to leave the hospital on the Monday. Yet another thing that made me realize that this was a little bit more serious than I had thought. No quick in and out deal. I had to stay there to make sure it didn’t flare up again.
I was wheeled into my own room on the third floor of the hospital (no TV, darn it) to rest. I was given a meal (not too tasty unfortunately, or maybe I just didn’t have a good appetite), and some painkillers in case I needed them. I didn’t. I was still hooked up to an IV (amoxicillin) and was told that I had to remain in bed and couldn’t move my leg. I had to keep it in a contraption which kept my foot flexed at all times. Yes, that meant bedpan. Fun times.
Friends came to visit, chat, keep me company and deliver presents (too kind of them), essentials and the trusty laptop (see compilation of movies watched – June 2005).
The nurses were fantastic. One had the thickest Quebecois accent ever, it was great!


The date is: Sunday, October 23, 2005

Saturday was not a fun day. I woke up in pain, so I decided to take the painkillers for once. After waiting for the drugs to kick in, I was still in a lot of pain. It was like someone was taking my heel and digging their nails into it. It was a pain like I’ve never felt before. It hurt a lot more than I thought it would. I was crying I was in so much pain (and I like to think that I have a pretty high tolerance of pain, so I figured that this was probably pretty bad). The nurse came in and gave me a shot in my arm for the pain. He came back in to open up my bandage to clean my incisions and to see if there was anything wrong with it. When he cleaned the incisions, I snapped a couple photos of my ankle. It was pretty interesting. They had threaded a ribbon kind of thing through my incisions to keep them open. And you could tell that they loaded on the iodine. Not a pleasant colour. It looked a LOT less swollen than the last time I had looked at it. There was a fair amount of bruising on the top of my foot where the anaesthesiologist had pricked me. After the nurse cleaned the incisions and re-bandaged my ankle up, I chatted with him for a bit and asked him what kind of painkiller he had given me. Morphine. Oh great, the hard stuff. I was surprised that he just pricked me instead of asking me about if I really wanted morphine. Anyway, I was still in a lot of pain. And then, after some time, I got the worst headache ever. How annoying. I wasn’t really in the mood to eat my breakfast, so I just sat and watched a DVD. My head just hurt so badly. Like a migraine…and usually using the computer makes my head hurt even more. My brother called me on the phone, and I remember all of a sudden just feeling really crappy. I thought maybe if was because I hadn’t eaten anything (it was almost lunch time by this rate) so I munched on the bun with my breakfast. I was putting a lot of effort into the phone conversation, but I just felt like I needed to go to sleep to get rid of my headache. I went to sleep hoping that when I woke up again the headache would be gone along with the pain in my foot (which was still there, just not as bad, because all I could concentrate on was the pain in my head). I woke up that afternoon to some visitors. That was a little difficult trying to carry on a conversation. So the moral of the story is that morphine doesn’t work well with my body. It doesn’t make me feel fabulous like it does for some people, it just gives me the worst headache ever. Yet another life experience!
The next day, I wasn’t in as much pain (it was bearable) but was still bed ridden. The doctor and his sidekicks came in to take a look at my ankle again. After more questioning, they figured that the infection MUST have come from my blister that I had gotten two weeks prior, even though they were confused as to why it took this long for the infection to flare up (usually it’s instantaneous). So, this meant that Monday, April 25th, 2005 was when it all started. I played ultimate Frisbee on this day and got the world’s worst blisters on my feet from my orthotics. That Friday, I HAD noticed that my ankle was a little bit swollen (swollen enough that I took a picture of it), but didn’t think anything of it, because I had been walking around all day and it was bashed around a big from carrying my luggage. It subsequently went away (along with my blisters) until the beginning of the events from this post.
The doctor also told me that the bacteria in my abscess was a strain of streptococcus. Wow, the common cold can turn into this. How powerful a little change in genetic makeup can be.
Oh, and I don’t have AIDS.
So my foot all the way up to my knee is quite purple. And swollen too. The nurse decides to wrap my whole calf in alcohol. I’m left on the bed in the contraption that cradles my leg in a wet bandage. It’s most uncomfortable. Later that day when the nurse takes off the wet bandages, my skin is all wrinkled because it’s been wet all day. Yuck.
Later, the skin on my calf and around my ankle starts peeling off. Ugh.
And the doctors tell me that I can’t leave on Monday afterall. I was pretty positive about the whole experience, but for some reason my optimism ran out on one day. I wanted to get back to work, I wanted to walk, I wanted my normal life. It was pretty hard. It was another life lesson. I had to be patient. Be optimistic. And still, try to be positive. It was a tough day, but I learned a lot from it.
There was a pretty good routine that I got into at the hospital. The days dragged on because I didn’t have much to do, even after I was allowed to get up to go to the washroom and stuff. I always liked picking my meals, and trying new items, even though they most often than not didn’t turn out as good as I had imagined them. I never minded getting woken up in the middle of the night to get my temperature checked and to get my shots. I liked limping down the hall every day. Seeing the nurses come into my room to clean my incisions, give me shot, take my temperature, give me food, etc etc. I liked seeing friends who had come to visit.
I wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital until the Wednesday. I was in the hospital for a total of 5 days.
It was a bittersweet day when I left the hospital. I was sad to leave the place that taught me so much. To leave the people who had been so kind to me. But of course I was happy because it meant that I was getting better.
It was a positive experience. I got to see what the Swiss medical system is like. I learned a lot of French. I practiced a lot of French. I learned some things about myself. I got some down time. I got to watch some movies. I met some people.
Les Cadolles is a fantastic hospital. The nurses, doctors and all the staff that I met during this experience were so helpful, kind, sympathetic, patient, this list goes on. I always felt safe. I trusted everything that was happening. One negative thing. The food wasn’t too great (I think I’ll blame it on my lack of appetite from the antibiotics). The water they provide is pretty fancy (Arkina).

After I was out of the hospital, I stayed a week at a friend’s place (the one with an elevator). I didn’t go to work and I watched a lot of DVDs and read a lot of magazines. I wasn’t allowed to leave the premises (except for when I had to go in for a checkup). Any time that I stood up my foot and calf would turn a deep shade of purple. It wasn’t painful, just throbbed a bit (makes sense – the blood pooling and stuff).
I was pretty impatient, and the day that I went to the hospital, instead of taking a cab home like I was told to, I jumped ship and took the bus (requiring a little bit of walking). I was limping and took my time. It wasn’t bad. It felt nice to be outside for a bit and to get a little bit of exercise. No harm done.
There was a little bit of harm done that Friday though when I went to a friend’s house (by cab) and stayed out pretty late. I had to walk to a car that dropped me off at home, and the ankle felt fine, but it wasn’t. the next day it was really really purple and swollen. I was a little worried, but I learned my lesson. I had to take it easy no matter how hard it would be.

As thankful as I was to have a place to stay while I was recouperating, I was really glad to be able to get back into my own place. I hate imposing, and it’s always more comfortable when you’re sleeping in your own bed and stuff. And when you have options of what to wear each day. My apartment was filthy (some moldy things were discovered upon entry) and needed a serious airing out. Going up stairs was a slow process, but going down stairs was even more difficult. Flexing my foot was easy, pointing it was another matter. My ankle was still swollen, so flexibility was an issue. And the whole time I was still relegated to taking huge amoxicillin pills. I have become the master of the spoon crushing, yogurt mixing, nose pinching, juice chasing routine. Booyah.

I was so glad to get back to work. I was walking pretty slowly, but I could handle it. I was a little tired, but really excited to be back and going about my normal routine (except for the fact that I took a taxi to work each day).

The antibiotics were really strong. So strong that the skin on my hands and feet started peeling. The feet didn’t bother me much, because I figured that it was an after effect of the alcohol soaking incident, but the skin from the palms of my hands worried me. It was really really disgusting to look at, and I didn’t know why it was happening. Luckily a doctor friend of mine reassured me that it was due to the medication that I was taking and that it would go away soon. Little did I know that the skin peeling from my palms and soles of my feet would last from June 3rdish to June 26th. Just shows you how toxic antibiotics can be, and just another proof that I really was a lot sicker than I though I was. The doctors were really fighting to get rid of this infection. I also lost my horrible cough too. For a long time afterwards, my ankle would get sore after walking. After check ups at the hospital, I was told I was recovering fine and that I needed to get back to a normal pace of life, but not to push it too much. I had to listen to my body and rest when my ankle told me to. I needed to do my own physio, and the exercises that I learned when I sprained my ankle a couple years back came in handy. It was a long recovery, one that even in the beginning of the summer I wasn’t over, but it was worth every minute of it.

I can’t emphasize enough how much I learned from the experience.

Shots – a compilation

Thursday, May 12th, 2005
IV right forearm
Blood test right forearm
Blood test right upper arm
Blood test left forearm
Blood test left upper arm

Friday, May 13th, 2005
Blood test left upper arm
IV right forearm
IV try right outer foot (top)
IV right inner foot (top)
Right outer calf prick
Left quad anti blood-clot
Night blood test left upper arm

Saturday, May 14th, 2005
Right outer bicep morphine
Left quad anti blood-clot
Night blood test left upper arm?

Sunday, May 15th, 2005
Left quad anti blood-clot
Night blood test left upper arm

Monday, May 16th, 2005
Left quad anti blood-clot

Tuesday, May 17th, 2005
Left quad anti blood-clot

TOTAL: 19 piques (give or take – I might have gotten a couple more that I forgot about)

Day trip to Geneva

On Saturday, October 8th I went to Geneva for the day. We headed up on the train early in the morning and decided to have breakfast in the restaurant car. It was fun...a nice little spread. I love eating in the restaurant car.
Anyway, we arrived in the fog worried that it would stay that way for the whole day and then we wouldn't get to see anything at all. I should have trusted the crazy Swiss weather that early in the morning it's really really foggy, and then in the middle of the day, the sun comes out and it's hot enough to just be wearing a t-shirt. This would be one of those days.
We walked around, viewed a photo exhibit (you know the photo of the island/tree mass in the shape of a heart in the middle of a perfectly blue water mass? It was a series of photos like that) in the park beside the university and went to the roof of the cathedral (which was set up for a wedding taking place later than day) in the old town to look down at the city below.
We were stuck in the bell tower as it was going off, and I felt like my whole body was vibrating. We also walked along the water to get up close and personal to the water jet that wasn't working in 1997 when I had visited Geneva last. We then hopped on a boat to cross to the other side and had drinks on the boardwalk. I had some flashbacks to things that I remembered from '97, but didn't have enough time (we wanted to get home - we were exhausted) to really walk around and get my bearings again.
Next time I go, I'm going to walk around some more and revisit the Chanel store.
It was a pretty quick trip out, but it really is only a short train ride away, so I know I'll be back out there again soon.

Road Trip

August 5th-9th, I took a road trip with a friend to visit another friend who works in Providence, Rhode Island. I’d never done a road trip before, so I was pretty excited…to spend 12 straight hours in a car!






The drive really wasn’t all that bad. Just long. We caught some traffic after getting on the Massachussets Turnpike, so that slowed our trip down substantially. I guess it’s easy for me to say that the drive wasn’t bad, I wasn’t the one driving. After arriving to Providence, we were both pretty excited to be out of that car.



It was a great reunion with the three of us. Catching up with everything that had been going on in our lives, planning our next couple of days. We really wanted to do as much as possible, but honestly, it was all about spending time with friends and living up our fabulous lives.


The next day, we walked up the hill (phew!) to catch the bus to Newport. So we were either late or overestimated our hill climbing skills (maybe a little bit from column A, a little bit from column B), but we were very close to missing the bus, so a perfectly timed psycho taxi driver saved the morning. The weather was beautiful. We walked through the town, stopped for lunch and had some New England clam chowder (naturally!), and continued walking toward the beach.
Before getting to the coast, we walked through an area where all the mansions are. Whoa big houses! Afterwards, we walked along the water towards the beach. It was absolutely beautiful. The sun was shining, the wind smelled of salt water. I hadn’t swam in the ocean in a LONG time, and all I could remember was how much I hated getting salt water in my eyes, so I was a little paranoid about it for awhile. The water was a lot warmer than I thought it would be. I never really enjoyed swimming in non-pool environments (wading is different from swimming); mostly because I was chicken of cold water, but I think I’m starting to get over it.
I swam in a lake at a cottage once, and it wasn’t bad, and swam in the Neuch Lake a couple of times last year. The beach was a lot of fun. The waves were great, and we had a great time goofing around.

That night, we headed into downtown Providence to see Waterfire.
The canal running through the city would have hundred of floating bonfires set up on it, and there would be vendors, street performers and music playing. It would be a happening place. Before seeing the bonfires, we went for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory.
It was packed, even though the typical dinner time had long passed. Was the cheesecake worth the wait? UH HUH! Boy did I miss cheesecake while in Europe. Switzerland may have amazing cheese, but they don’t even try putting it in cake form. Makes me sad just thinking about it. After our meal, we headed down to see Waterfire.
It was pretty neat. A great atmosphere. Lots of people walking around, sitting, relaxing and enjoying the sites and sounds of the event. One little square was set up with a big platform stage with a DJ playing Latin music. It was packed and the vibe was kickin. Just hearing the music made me want to dance. After a bit of apprehension (definitely not on my part!) we headed out on the dancing floor and got our groove on. Unfortunately for us, the night was just about over, so after a couple dances, everything shut down and we had to head home. No biggie though, we were going to have another long day to come.


The following day, we headed to Boston. Where whale watching, the New England Aquarium, Newbury Street and Harvard were on the agenda. It was so fun being a tourist again.
We got to ride the Boston subway…so great! I love subways!

Whale watching was a riot. Everyone would crowd to the front of the boat to try to get a glimpse of any whales that may surface, and as soon as our guide spotted one on whichever side of the boat, everyone would rush to that one side and start snapping photos. It was pretty funny how was all just flocked to whatever side of the boat was being called out by our guide. People crowding, straining their necks, hoping for a glimpse of a whale. I felt like part of the paparazzi. It was great. I wonder what the whales think of us.

The New England aquarium really made me rethink my career plans. During my job at the Toronto Zoo, I really started to regret not getting into a profession that worked with animals. The relationship that the keepers had with the animals and the conservation and research efforts really made me wish that I could be right there with them working with the animals. It was the same at the aquarium. I was really enviable of the facilitators that interacted with the public and witnessed the “eureka moment” of the visitors and seeing their eyes light up at their exciting experiences and moments where they’d learned something new. I really do love my job, but something about seeing those facilitators in the Aquarium really made me jealous. Or sad. Or longing. Or…I don’t really know. It is true that people change professions an average of 7 times in their life?
The cylindrical tank in the middle of the aquarium was great to see. It was tall enough that the animals in it segregated to their feeding levels and you could see each of them from different angles. I can’t even put into words how excited that place made me. All the opportunities to interact and learn. To explore and discover. It was absolutely incredible. There was a special exhibit on jellyfish.
Cute little penguins, a glass wall looking into the animal hospital and research area. Wah!







After finally tearing ourselves away from the aquarium, we walked into town toward the market. The streets were filled and there was so much activity happening. We decided to take advantage of the coast and sample some seafood. I hadn’t had lobster in over a year, so a seafood platter was just what I needed to get my fix. Sure I can get mussels from Brussels quite easily, but other types of seafood aren’t as easy to come by. I passed on my wisdom about how to disassemble and eat a lobster and we were taught how to eat some clams. I don’t think I’d eat those again. By the time we’d finished our feast, and wandered through the rest of the area (including walking through a park in which they had a Shakespeare show – so sad I missed the show in High Park this summer), and walked along Newbury Street which really made me miss Europe for some reason, it was getting dark. And we new we should head towards Harvard for one last glimpse of Boston greatness.
I know I want to return to Boston again soon. To revisit Harvard and to see MIT, to see more animals, to visit more stores. The list goes on.


The following day was a relaxing one. We were pretty tired from two days filled to the brim with excitement and events, so we decided to sleep in and just enjoy the loveliness that is Providence. By the way, loveliness tended to equal shoppingness. Some of us had certain “goals” for the shopping trip. Certain things to sample, try, experience, what have you. Let’s just say there was some Coach, “flouncy pants”, Puma sneakers, Victoria’s Secret, J. Crew, Abercrombie (& Fitch) and chocolate things (among others) going on.
Of course, when there’s a shopping excursion, there’s indecisiveness. This time around, my indecisiveness came out in a Puma sneaker dilemma. I came out victorious, ending up with black and white ones (yes, I decided to give up on my dream of black and pink ones – it’s okay, I’ve made peace with it.) The mall was great. It was a different kind of vibe for some reason compared to malls in Toronto or something. One kind of interesting thing that I noticed was that the floors of the mall were carpeted. I’m not even talking about the stores themselves being carpeted; I mean the actual mall itself. Now, I don’t really know anything about winter weather in Providence, but if there were carpeted malls in Toronto, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. The carpet in the mall was really clean too. It made the whole mall seem homier. I love carpeted floors. I think my love of carpeted floors corresponds with my love of being barefoot. Barefoot on a carpeted floor is wonderful.
We ate lunch at the food court of the mall (some kind of uber-American sounding burger joint) and dinner at the mall as well (we went home for a bit in between). The trip was winding down to a close so it was pretty sad. Boo-urns. We’d all be going our separate ways soon. Back to non-summer life. We’re big kids now.


The next morning, we’re up way too early (but employment and long car rides take precedence) and we’re ending our road trip. We say our goodbyes and head to the car for our 12 hour trek. Better traffic meant that was would get home a lot faster (even though we took a couple nap stops). Customs was pretty quick (no searches) and we stopped in Kingston, Napanee and Oshawa along the way home. Boy was I glad to get out of that car and soon into my bed where I would sleep for a darn long time.
Road Trip 2005 was fantastic, however I was wiped.


Road Trip 2006 – New York edition anyone?