It's a done deal.

Yesterday, among all my running around, I stopped in at ICBC (insurance company) to sign the salvage release form and to pick up the cheque for my totalled car. $1440.10 isn't gonna get me very far, but at least it's a start. I wonder how they pinned the value down to the nearest ten cents? I picked up my plates, too. Well, my plate. The front plate came off in the accident, something I didn't realize till the day after on my way to work when I saw it lying in the middle of the intersection. It was sad to sign that form, handing the Beastmobile over to ICBC. It was like a final farewell. I know I shouldn't be so attatched to that silly car, but oh well, what can I do?

Walking back to the bus, a check, a copy of the slavage release, and a licence plate in hand, I found it odd that a big metal machine could be so easily reduced to a few slips of paper and a metal plate.

Medical marvels

I guess you could call it an occupational hazard, or call me a performing monkey. Either or.

Being a music teacher, I feel like I'm on stage all day. I spend my days singing or dancing or conducting or doing something wierd or some combination of the above. I also spend my days killing my vocal cords. I don't have specific voice training, which I think is a large part of the problem. (I'm looking into voice and breath instruction from a speech-language pathologist.) For the last two and a half months, however, I've felt as if I am constantly on the verge of losing my voice. It just feels strained all the time. Prompted my my union telling me that they'd buy me an FM system (basically a wireless mic) if I had a reccommendation from a specialist and the fact that I don't want to do more damage to my voice, I made an appointment.

Other than two quick visits to a walk in clinic after my car accident, I haven't been to a doctor in probably nine years (yes, I know, bad me!), so this whole "specialist" deal was rather new for me. It was so cool! [Those of you who don't like inside-of-the-body stories can skip to the next paragraph] In order to check my vocal cords, the doc first sprayed some freezing goop ("freezing goop" being the technical word for it) up my nose and down my throat, then sent me to the waiting room for a few minutes while it took effect. What a bizarre sensation to have one side of the inside of your nose go numb! He called me back into a different room with all kinds of crazy equipment in it and told me what he was about to do. Um, ok. GULP. He handed me a mirror so I could see the monitor behind me, then took a long skinny tube with a light and a camera on the end of it and threaded it up my nose and down into my throat, "to avoid the gagger, which is your tongue." He gave quite an animated running commentary. I would have laughed, but, well, I was told to keep my mouth shut and I had a tube up my nose. "Ok, so here's the inside of your nose... whup! Around the corner... there's your epiglotis [at which point I swallowed! Flap flap!]... and here we are at you vocal cords!" He told me to say a few different sounds, and I got to see how they moved back and forth. It was so strange to know that that was MY body I was seeing on the screen!

Apparently my vocal cords are slightly bowed and don't touch completely when they're at rest, which may account for the strain I'm feeling, but there are no nodules/bumps. I'm relieved to find out I haven't damaged my voice (I was beginning to wonder). Hopefully this voice training will help make a difference.

It's snowing!!!

Ok, so I know that's not really terribly exciting for the rest of you for whom snow is just a fact of life during hte winter, but it's a big deal here, at least for me!

Snow is quite the rarity in Vancouver. We usually get a few days of wet, slushy, sloppy muck that tries to pass itself off as snow in January or maybe February, and that's about it. It's only even goodfor playing in while it's falling. It rarely sticks around longer than a few days before it starts to rain again. As a kid, it was always a novelty. In school, as soon as the first student spoted a snowflake, the whole class would have their noses pressed to the window and would be cheering, "It's snowing! It's snowing!" Full of hope, everyone, whether they expressed it or not, wondered, "Will school be cancelled tomorrow?"

Everyone laughs at us Vancouverites. Three inches of snow basically shuts the whole city down. Five inches, and look out. No one's going anywhere, except maybe to the local park for some toboganning. But you just don't understand Vancouver snow until you've experienced it. It's a slushy, slippery MESS.

Vancouverites might complain about snow, but I love it! As I sit and look out my window watching the big fat flakes come down, illuminated by the neighbours patio light, I feel a sense of calm. Snow seems to have a nostalgic feeling to it, and a softness. But that's not all. For me, every time a few flakes fall, I'm still that little kid full of glee: It's snowing!!! It's snowing!!!

Baby, it's cold outside!

I've been bussing all over the city today (more on that later!) and BBBRRRRR!! It's COLD! I just checked the weather forecast, and it's supposed to SNOW tonight, tomorrow, and tomorrow night. They're expecting close to 5 cm tomorrow night!

Snow! In Vancouver! In NOVEMBER! That's crazy talk.

Mushbrain

I had a reminder tonight of why I'm glad I'm no longer in school, and yet, in a way, I wish I was still there. Let me explain...

A friend of mine is in his senior year and is coming to the end of the term. I was talking to him on MSN tonight as he was struggling with a number of English Lit papers - one on Milton's Paradise Lost and another on Chaucer's Cantebury Tales. Just for fun, I took out my Norton Anthology and looked up Paradise Lost. I studied it briefly in second year, but that was a long time ago now! My friend asked me some of the questions he needed to write on, and it made me realize how far removed from university life I've become.

These days I'm not challenged to think critically in my job in the same way that I was at university. Granted, there are a whole lot of other pressures in my job to deal with, and I don't miss the papers and the midterms, that's for sure! But in a way, I miss that depth of study and discussion. I don't feel as sharp as I used to. (Yes, yes, I'm sure I'll get all kinds of jokes about that comment! Hardy har har! ;-) I think I need to start looking for ways to give my brain a better workout!

What do you do to stay sharp?

HTML Headaches!

Calling all HTML whizzes!

I'm still tweaking my template (on a tester blog first!), and thought I had finally gotten it right, till a friend told me it was horribly mangled when viewed in Firefox. Anybody care to check out my test site and help me fix my HTML? Apparently the bottom is all messy and the title image is off center. Thanks!

Queen of the Week!

Woohoo! Ellen chose me to be her third "Queen of the Week!"
Go check out my interview here.

Something about the ocean...

Vancouver, of course, is a city surrounded by ocean. It's protected water, though, sheltered from the open ocean by Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands. It's not the Oregon Coast kind of ocean. Instead, it's a much calmer beast, seemingly surrounded on all sides by mountains.

I can not imagine myself living away from the water. There's something about spending time on the beach that renews me. It's at the ocean that I often feel much closer to God than I do anywhere else.

I grew up no more than a 10 minute walk (usually much less) to four different beaches. First, there was the main beach at Deep Cove. We'd often go there in the summer to swim and year round to just goof around. Even as a child I was struck by the beauty there. I did a painting or a drawing one time in grade 5 or grade 6 of the view from Deep Cove. I loved it. My teacher loved it, too, and asked me if she could keep it. I wish I still had it.

About a five minute walk away from my house was my favourite place to go swimming. It didn't really have a name, I don't think. We called it the secret beach. There was a little path between the back yard of one house and the side yard of another that would take you to a rickety set of wooden stairs. It looked like you were walking through someone's yard to get there. The beach was small - maybe only thirty feet of sand and broken shells worn smooth by the waves - and it was nestled in between the rock retaining walls surrounding the waterfront homes on either side. The best times to go swimming there was when the tide was either way in or way out. That way, we didn't have to step all over the barnacle-covered rocks as we eased our bodies into the cold water. There seemed to be a strip of those nasty barnacles right at the mid-tide level. We'd often come home with tiny cuts all over our feet, but it didn't matter. There was great swimming at the secret beach.

Down at the end of my street, there was a little public dock. Right in front of the dock there was (is!) a small island with a house on it. Sometimes we'd swim to the island when the tide was low. That dock was my haven as a teenager. If ever I was upset and needed to get away, I'd go down there. The early morning or dusk were my favourite times: a mist hung over the water and the light was still grey around me. It was quiet and calm, and every now and then, if you were lucky, you might see a seal pop his head up off in the distance. I would often go there to meet with God.

Over the years, there have been countless encounters between me and the ocean. Snuggling up on the beach on New Year's Day with an old boyfriend... watching the summer sun slip behind the horizon at Birch Bay and remembering how my grandma loved to do the same when she was still alive... watching pods of killer whales swim alongside the boat up in Port McNeil... gathering with hundreds of thousands of people to watch the offshore fireworks competitions in Vancouver every summer... silently paddling from bay to bay in a kayak, watching the shore glide past... going for longs walks with worship music playing on my discman, feeling God's presence with me as I walk... looking out at the forever horizon down on the Oregon Coast or at Long Beach, with the waves crashing in and feeling so small... crouching at the shore to listen to the sound of tiny pebbles rolling over each other as the water eased in and out, in and out...

Most of all, the ocean reminds me of God and his faithfulness. It's steady and unchanging. It's where I often get a better perspective on my life. It's where I can block other things out and just focus on Him. I definitely need to spend more time at the water's edge.

Like ice cream on a summer's day

Monday to Friday, life is busy. I'm running here and there, busy with work and various other commitments. I don't have time to think about "A" for long periods of time, though I can't seem to get him out of my head. My thoughts, however, are usually confined to trying to make myself realize that nothing's likely to happen with him. I can usually get myself to a point where I can accept that and be OK with being friends, nothing more.

Then the weekend comes. Because he's a good friend, he's always a part of the crowd I see every weekend. The beginning of August was the last time there was an A-free weekend. Just the week after I was telling him how great it is when a guy offers to do the dishes for me, he does the dishes. Or the week after I was telling him one of the things that an old boyfriend did that really impressed me was offer to drive me home even when it was way far out of his way, he makes a way-out-of-the-way trip to drive me home. The girl-brain in me so wants to see things like this as a "sign," but I know better. He's just that kind of guy. He'd do it for anyone. This, unfortunately, just adds to his attractiveness.

Each weekend, as I get to know him more and more, all that mental effort I made during the week gets thrown right out the window.

Once again, I melt into a sappy, sentimental mess.

Yippee skippy!

Report cards are done! Report cards are done! Yaaaay!

I absolutely HATE first term report cards! I only have to give letter grades to classroom teachers for the first term - no comments, thank goodness, and only to the intermediate teachers. That cuts the reporting down somewhat from 680 students to about 300. But the music program doesn't even get going till about October (it takes that long to settle schedules!), which at the best of times, only gives me about six 40 minute periods in which to teach and evaluate my students. Then we may miss classes because of holidays, professional days, or assemblies. I only see each class once a week, and my schedule is jam full. I have no spare periods. So if a kid is sick the day I do the evaluations, how do I get a mark for them?? And to boot, this year, teachers were on strike for two weeks in October. Suuure, I can give a mark that's actually based on anything. Yeah right! Arg!

But, they're done, letter grades are based on at least the student's ability to read the rhythms we've been working on, if not more. I'll have much more to draw on next term, but that's when I get to start making comments. I have to say, reporting is one aspect of my job that I don't particularily like!

BUT, it's done, and there's only three weeks till Christmas vacation! YAY! May the countdown begin.....

Just another day on the job

We need structure and some planned activities.

No! We need ritalin and some leashes.

~ From that Eddie Murphy movie where he runs a day care. Or something. Some days I think it fits!

Welcome to my new look!

In my last post, I talked about needing to work on the side bar. Well hey, instead of just tidying things up a little bit, why don't I go learn some HTML, make my own images and headings, learn all about hexadecimal colour codes and drop-down menus, and completely redesign my blog? Suuure... that would be easier! A big huge thanks to Brad who waded through my code many, many times when I MSN'ed him and said, "It's broken! Help!"

In any case, welcome to my new and hopefully improved site! It's a little more "me" than my old site. I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment to say hello (or to tell me if there's any formatting problems!)!

Good Enough

Nothing is as defeating as the feeling that one is not "good enough."

I've been fighting that feeling lately - ok, for the last four and a half years - in regard to relationships. It's not an overwhelming feeling, more of a slight melancholy wondering that surfaces every now and then.

When B and I broke up back in 2001, we both knew it was a good thing. We simply weren't headed towards marriage, and it would be foolish to continue as if we were. We have remained friends even still, through him getting married and now having a baby. It's good.

Of course, there were reasons why we weren't headed towards marriage. I had mine, he had his. But every now and again, that nasty, lying little voice sneaks up on me: "B is an amazing guy. [Which is true]. You broke up because there were things he saw in you that he could not live with. If you had been ___ or done ___ you might still be together."

Now logically, I know that in part, the first half of that statement is true. We both saw things in each other that we decided we couldn't live with- not horrible things, just incompatibilities. But when that voice speaks, although it's never said directly, it's always implied that I just wasn't "good enough." Every now and then that feeling returns, particularly when things don't work out with someone I'm interested in or I'm starting to see. It can be the most illogical thought in the world - most of the guys I've had near relationships with this year, while they're good people, have had issues I'm just not willing to deal with in a relationship. They're all growing people, dealing with their baggage. I just don't want that many bags in my relationship. Because they're such good people, and have a lot to offer, and are working through their stuff (as am I, don't get me wrong - just look at the topic of this post!), I was willing to wait and see if maybe there was a possibility of a relationship anyway (deep down I knew there wasn't). Each time, however, they guy was the one to pull the plug.

There's that voice again: "See, you're just not good enough."

I know that that's a lie. I know that God knows there's someone for me who will be just the right one to compliment my strengths and my weaknesses, and for whom I can do the same. I also know it's not some mystical destiny thing - one soul separated at the beginning of time and when we meet, the two halves will come together and we will be complete. A relationship takes two people who are complete on their own first, and it's a choice, and takes work. However, I also think that God directs us to better choices.

These days, I have a friend who seems to be everything I have ever wanted in a man. I don't say that lightly. The specifics I won't get into here, but I admire his character, respect his opinion, think we share the same major goals, and never tire of talking and hanging out with him. He's the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out. I have known him for about a year, and have become close friends with him over the last three or four months. He is amazing.

And every now and then, I worry if I'm good enough.

R.I.P. Beastmobile

I got the call today. Sid from the insurance company's estimating facility called me this morning(What??? They actually work on the weekends?!?!) to inform me that, "unfortunatley, your vehicle is a total loss."

Yeah, that doesn't come as a surprise... Yes, I'd like you to bag up all my personal belongings that were in the car and send them to my nearest claims center, please and thank you... $3500 damage just on the big stuff alone, not to mention anything they might find when they open it up? Wow!... Yah, parts are expensive... So someone will call me later this week with the value of the car?... Any guesses what that'll be?... ok, I'll send along receipts of all the work I've had done on it recently... ok, thanks for letting me know... yes, you have a good day, too... thank you... bye.

When I got the call, I found that I was actually kind of sad. I realized that smashed in the intersection was the last time I'd ever see my car. No 'last goodbye.' Isn't that crazy? For heaven's sake, it wasn't a person! I guess it's more the shock of losing it like that. It would be a different story if I had sold it. (Which, now that it was actually working properly - for the most part - I was considering doing. Bah!)

It's funny how attatched we get to our stuff. You'd think from all my ranting and raving about my car that I hated the thing. It was quirky. Irritating at times when yet another thing broke, yes, I'll give you that. But honestly, it was a good source of stories. It always got me from point A to point B. It was basically my first car, other than a car I had for six months in university for a job.

To the Beastmobile: Rest in Peace.

Oy

My sidebar needs some serious work.
And why on EARTH am I up at 4:44am? I've been up since 2:30. Blah!

That is all.

Hillary and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Also known as, "Beastmobile: The end of an era?"

I woke up yesterday morning with a raging sore throat. I've been having problems with my voice lately (I'm an elementary school music teacher!) and some days are worse than others. I was gonig to call in sick today to give my battered and abused vocal cords a rest, but I had nothing, zip, zero, nada prepared, and it's just cruel and unusual punishment to call a TOC (teacher on call) into the chaos that is my day without having anything at all left for him/her, especially since I don't often get a sub who can read music. So I decided to head on in anyway, and just try to talk less/sing more quietly. Ha! Right.

The good news is that, because my throat woke me up earlier than I usually get up, I had plenty of time to get ready and head off to work. I hopped in the now not-so-hated Beastmobile.

[ Side note: I can't believe I haven't blogged about this yet, but my car is actually shifting into drive RIGHT AWAY now!!! No more 17 minutes of waiting or multiple engine revs to have it ka-CHUNK into gear with a violent lurch. My dad found a miracle goop-additive for transmissions called Bi-Tron. It actually brought MY BEASTMOBILE back from near death!!! It's no less than a miracle, let me tell you!!! So, I've actually been quite fond of my car these days. This is the first time since I've owned it (2.5 years) that I haven't had to wait or slam it into gear before I can drive! No kidding, there is at most a 2 second delay now between shifing and it clicking (not clunking!) into gear. I've been thinking that, "Quick! Now's the time to sell the beast while it's actually working, and before anythig else blows on it!" ]

Off I went on my trying-to-be-merry way. It was about 8am, and I was waiting to turn left at a major intersection. There was another car in front of me, also waiting to turn. Both of us were in the intersection. The light turned yellow, and one car went through, pushing the light. The light turned red. THe car in front of me turned, and me, grimacing at being in the intersection on such a red light, began to turn as well, when WHAM!

Some dopus (notice my restraint in my word choice there?) decided that he was just in TOO much of a hurry to stop for that RED light, so he ran it. Only problem was, I was in the intersection, trying to get out of the way of the very-soon-to-be oncoming traffic. I had started to turn, saw him coming and slammed on my brakes, but it was too late. We collided front driver's side to front driver's side.

The bumper was busted off, the front panel smashed in over the wheel, the lights and grill all punched in and broken... The crash was even enough to dislodge the signal light on the OTHER side of the car! I limped my car off to the side of the road, the sound of metal against the wheel and the bumper dragging on the ground making me cringe.

I walked back over to the other side of the street where the other driver was, watching the busy rush hour traffic drive over and obliterate pieces of my car still left in the intersection. Hands shaking like they've never shaken before, I exchanged information and asked a guy waiting for the bus to be a witness. The other driver said he was going through a yellow light. Yeah, I don't think so, buddy.

I called school to say I'd be late. Tow trucks came and towed away both cars. By the time I got to work and had dealt with ICBC (insurance comapny), I had missed my first 2 classes. Word sure travels fast! Two of my grade 5 students who were supposed to be in my first class saw me as I came in and asked if I had been in a car accident. Whaa?

Anyway, classes 3 and 4 I plopped in front of a video (hey! It was in French AND music-related, so I don't feel so bad about it!) while I wrote out a plan for a TOC for the afternoon. After I dismissed the kids, I ran around and got the VCR moved, picked a non-French movie for the afternoon classes, photocopied worksheets, picked up marking I was going to do at home, made sure someone was going to the union meeting I was supposed to go to, showed my TOC the three different rooms she had to go to in the afternoon, made sure she understood what she was doing, THEN, I went home. (For heaven's sake, why can't I just go, "Hey, I was in a car accident, and I wasn't even gonna come to work today cause I"m SICK, so I'm outta here!") By the way, as far as I can tell, physically I'm fine. I'm a little bit stiff, but I don't think that's anything major. Yes, I've seen a doctor, and I'm keeping a close eye on how I feel these next few days.

I'm still waiting to hear from ICBC about liability. It's dicy, cause I was turning left, and even though the guy ran a very red light, ICBC doesn't like to fault people driving straight over people turning left. Also, I'm betting that my car is going to be a write-off. I would be very surprised if they decided to fix it. I jsut hope I get something decent for it, cause I reeeally can't afford a new (or new-to-me) car right now. Nor can I afford the $250 "Crash responsibility charge" (what a crock that is) or the spike in my insurance rates if they find it to be my fault. *SIGH*

Today (the day after the accident), I got a ride to work with another teacher, and as we went through the intersection where the accident happened, there was my licence plate out on the road, crumpled and beat up from 24 hours worth of traffic rolling over it, totally unaware of how that discarded piece of metal represented the worst day I've had in a very, very long time.

Life is not all bad, though, cause once home and settled a bit, I lit some candles, put on some jazz, poured myself a glass of wine, and got some marking out of the way. My friend Dave came over later for dinner, a guitar "jam session" and some good conversation. It was just what I needed after that crazy day. I'm so grateful for a good friend like that.

My poor car. It's been broken into, stolen, hit and run'ed, and now smashed. I can't say it's had a very good day either. Yipes.

God must really love me!

Beastmobile strikes again. Well, actually, this was MY fault, but it feels better to blame the car.

I was out at some friends' place tonight, and it was about 1am when I left with my friends Shaun and Sarah. We were parked side by side in the lot. When I got to my car, I noticed that the interior lights were on. "Oh, shoot, I left my lights on! Guys, wait up, I might need a jump." Yup, I did.

Thanks, God, for the parking spot right next to my friends!

Out come my jumper cables, and in the pouring rain, we connect them. Just as we're getting them hooked up, a tow truck pulls up. "Hey, you guys call BCAA [B.C. Automobile Assotiation]?" Uh, nope. "Oh, OK, well there must be someone else around here..." We scan the parking lot. It's empty, except for us and one other car near the far end. He drives down there.

Thanks, God, for a mechanic showing up 'randomly' in the middle of the night just as I think my car is dead!

I try the ignition. A weak little "ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh" comes from the open hood, but the car doesn't start. We try a few more times. Nothing. I still have lights and radio, so we don't think it's the battery. Stupid piece of crap car! This JUST happened at the beginning of October. Now again? Unfortunately neither I nor my friends are members, but in keeping with my "Hey, it never hurts to ask!" policy, I decide to run over to the BCAA guy and see if he can at least come look and give an opinion. He comes over once he's dealt with the other car.

Thanks, God, for the BCAA guy having pity on us and helping even though we're not members!

We try the ignition again. Ruh-ruh-ruh. The BCAA guy confirms that it's definitely a dead battery, and not something else.

Thanks, God, for it not being something worse!

He gives us a few tips and we try a few things, then decide to try my friends' cables. He's determined that mine are faulty, or just can't handle enough power or something. Funny, now that I think about it, I've never been able to jump my car with those cables. Huh. (Note to self: buy new jumper cables.) We hook up Shaun and Sarah's cables.

Thanks, God, for friends who have better jumper cables than I do (and who would drive me home if it came to that, even though I live a 20 min drive away, and they only live basically down the street.)

We let it charge for a minute, then I try the ignition again. VVRRROOOM! Yippee!!!

Thanks, God!

I'm thinking of changing my style...

Have you ever been to a "Hair Hat and Headpiece" party? Neither had I, till Thursday night! My friend Meg and her roommate Julie threw a great bash. There were prizes for best homemade, tackiest, most conceptual, highest, most sparkly, and best overall.

I won for tackiest! Tacky?!?! TACKY?!?! Geesh! These people don't know glamour when they see it! Click the picture for more photos...

Advertising gone bezerk

Last night, I took in an excellent play called The Elephant Man with my friends Dave and Rebecca. While I was out, I got a phone call, as the beeping diltone told me. I went to check my messages this morning (ooh! ooh! Somebody loves me! Who could it be?). I was disgusted as I listened to the recorded voice: "Hi! This is Mike from Trashbusters. Do you have any old furniture or other large items you'd like to get rid of? We're going to be in you area soon and so we'd like to offer you a special deal...."

Excuse me??? You're leaving an ADVERTISEMENT on my ANSWERING machine? Hello?

Automated telemarketing technology is geting smarter and smarter, allowing comanies to annoy prospective clients more and more. These recordings even know to start after the "beep." (I wish the automated library "Your requested book is in" system knew how to do that.)

But even more than knowing to wait for the beep, some sytems even know my NAME. It's civic election time here in BC, and I got a PERSONAL phone call from the outgoing mayor of Vancouver left on my phone. "Hello Hillary. This is Mayor Larry Campbell. I'd like to urge you to vote for my colleague Jim Green...yadda yadda yadda"

What the???

You nkow, ads on TV, in the newspaper, billboards, fine. I've even resigned myself to 15 minutes of ads (not previews, ADS) before a movie. But advertisements left on my answering machine???

I call Trashbusters and told them to remove my phone number from their call out list immediately. Funny, I seem to recall doing that a few months ago when they did the same thing. I also told them that I will never EVER use their service because of the way they advertise. RAR!

Oh, and while I'm on this rant, let's talk about the 40 foot high, 150 foot long billboard barge Nike put up to be paraded back and forth in the water off all of Vancouver's beaches this summer. WHAT? Are you kidding me? Vancouver is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. What sunbather wants thier view of mountains and ocean obstructed by a great huge honking black Nike Billboard??? UG-LY!

And there you have it, my Saturday rant.

They shall not grow old as we who are left grow old.

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

Prompalooza

It's time to put up photos of your old prom pictures (though in this neck of the woods, I haven't heard of too many 'proms,' particularily for every year. Just grade 12. We had a "dinner dance" and techers and parents went, too. Aw well, same difference.). Go around to each participant (listed below) and then go to Aliblog to vote on Wednesday. Have fun laughing! Oh yeah, and that theme of prom dates turning out to to be gay? Yep, that doesn't stop with my story, though we never actually dated, per se. He IS, however, the only person I keep in semi-regular contact with from my grad class.

While I didn't have the poofy hair, I *WAS* captured on film being, um, uncomfortable with the low neckline of my dress. I had never worn anything that low, and form MY vantage point I could see my bra. Periodically I would check to see if anyone else could see it too. What I did'nt realize was how obvious that "subtle check" was to everyone else. And to the camera.

Polls are open! VOTE HERE!

Other PROMAPALOOZA contestants: Sarah and the Goon Squad, Aliblog, Live from the Wang of America, I'd Like to Buy a Vowel, Because I'm Your Father, Christa, Ms. Mamma, Queen of Spain

Baby Hannah Has Arrived!

A great big congratulations and even bigger hugs to Brent and Adina! They welcomed little Hannah into the world at 9:20 pm on November 6. She was 7lb 15.5 oz. She's beautiful!

Love and hugs to the new family! I can't wait to see them!

Popples, and other warm fuzzy memories

Do you still have some of the toys you had as a kid? In my blog reading, I was reminded of Popples, those furry creatures that could roll themselves into their very own built in pouch. I still have mine. I loved his bright orange "fur" and green hair. I never could fit him fully into his pouch. There was always ears anda green tuft poking up out of the pouch. *GRIN*

I still have my Cabbage Patch Kid, too. Her name is Nadia, or at least that's what her birth certificate said. I remember when they were sooo popular that mommies would elbow eachotehr and knock eachother down in the stores just to get one. I don't think MY mommy did any elbowing, but I got one anyway! When my grandparents went travelling (to Thailand?) they brought back the dress that she's wearing. And those red smudes on her feet? Those were from when I was playing with some play make-up (or maybe mom's real makeup?) and for some reason decided to leave lip prints on her feet. The red line on her mouth was a felt pen serving as lipstick. I don't know why I didn't just use mom's lipstick there, too!

The third long lost toy in the series is Lamby. My aunt gave him (her?) to me when I was a baby. When you wound it up, it's head would move in circles and it played "Mary Had A Little Lamb." You can tell by the state of it's fur and thread coming off his nose that he was well loved.

Fourth and finally, I used to have a Glowworm. That one's long gone, though, you'll have to just settle for this Google'd picture. It's face lit up when you hugged it. I liked to fall asleep each night hugging the glowworm, the warm light of it's face scaring away all the monsters under the bed.





Some days I'd just like to go back to being a kid. Favourite toys and snuggling under clean laundry fresh from the dryer... that was the life!

Random quote

I envision solutions involving sledgehammers and fire, but that will probably just make me homeless.

Brazen Thief!

I just got robbed!!!

I was baking cookies this morning, and had most of them put away, but the last four that didn't fit on the tray were cooling on my kitchen table. I was at the computer when I heard a sound in my kitchen. I looked, and couldn't believe my eyes! There was an intruder! I yelled and waved my arms around and scared him off, but I had seen him lurking around earlier in the morning, so I figured he'd be back. I grabbed my camera and moved to the couch to try and catch him in the act. Sure enough, a few minutes later he was back. He looked right at me, came inside, and made off with what he had been eyeing all morning!!! Right in broad daylight!











Unfortunately I didn't get a shot of the thief on top of my table with a giant chocolate chip cookie hanging out of his mouth. You'll just have to use your imagination!

What a little stinker!

Sound and Light

My church rocks! There is a very vibrant arts community at my church, and this weekend is our first "Sound and Light Arts Festival." There was everything from original music, visual art, and photography to a documentary, purses created and made by a fashion designer, writing, and spoken word performances. It was amazing! There was even a whole wall of art by kids. Even their pieces were beautiful! How fabulous to include the kids at our church in this kind of thing. They can come and see their work up on the wall displayed beside adult's work. It's so empowering! Anyway, I love it that my church embraces it's diversity and recognized the amazing talents of the members of the community! I want to go again tomorrow, and maybe Sunday: they have a totally different program every night. We'll have to see how that goes.

Attraction

"He's SOOO hot!"

I don't think I have ever said that. My friends all think I'm nuts cause I don't really go kooky over a guy at first sight. I guess I'm just one for whom attraction is based on knowing a person first. A guy can be thought of as a 'hottie' (wow, I hate that term!) by scads of people, but unless I know him and know his character, MEH. Honestly, I wouldn't give much of a second look.

Now someone I get along with, can be both silly and serious with, and know his character to be one of integrity, maturity, faith, goofiness, and fun... that's a different story. It's those things that will attract me to someone. Beauty of character, if you will.

Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's beautiful on the outside, too!

The aforementionned "cool stuff"

On October 15, I went to a housewarming party at a friend's place. My friend, we'll call her Jane, pulled me aside and told me she had something for me, and that she'd put it in my bag. She had just been away, so I figured maybe it was a little souvenir or something. I said sure, and carried on with the festivities.

A week and a half later, Jane pulls me aside and asks if I had gotten that thing she put in my bag. Whoops! I don't use that bag that often, so I had forgotten about it. I checked when I got home, but found nothing that wasn't mine. Could she have put it in the wrong bag? I called her and she explained where it was - in an obscure pocket I forgot was even there. The next day I checked the bag, and found what she had left there.

I pulled out a great big wad of cash!!!

WHAT?!?!?!?!

I immediately called her to ask, "What the HECK?!?!" She just laughed. "I've been working all of October, and you haven't. It's three days of strike pay!" (For those who don't know, teachers in BC were on strike for two weeks in October, and because it was deemed an illegal strike, the union was not allowed to even give us our $50 a day of strike pay. Needless to say, things have been a little tight.)

Oh. My. Goodness. It's not like she's rolling in money. She's a single girl like me, just plugging away. That was a big sacrifice for her. I won't lie, tears were shed on my part. God is constantly surprising me with his undererved favour.

I tell you, God never ceases to amaze me in making it SO obvious that he will provide for me. Some of you might remember the two similar stories from back when I was in my first two months of working as a Teacher on Call (I'll have to blog those one day, too. The one still gives me goosebumps!).

He is so good!

Yogurt and M&Ms

That's what I had for dinner. Blech. I haven't really even been hungry the last few days. And I've been sooo tired. I can't even stay awake to watch a show. I'm asleep on the couch within the first 45 mins. My house is a mess, and I have no motivation at ALL to do anything about it. I feel down, icky. I feel far away from God. I miss those spontaneous bursts of joy I used to have. I had them all the time: having the kids at school waving at me with a great big grin as I walked to my car after school, or hearing the crunch of the leaves under my feet, having a song on the radio touch my heart. I haven't felt that way for a year. Where did I go? What's wrong with me? God has even done some really cool stuff lately, but even the joy in that seems dulled. I want the old me back!

Happy Halloween!

BOO!

A new addition

I finally sucked it up and got a flickr account. I have so many pictures, and nowhere near enough space on my webspace from my internet service provider to post them. So far I'm happy with Flickr, we'll see how it goes. I've uploaded some pictures from my crazy summer of adventure already, an there will be more picture sets to come. Check them out by clicking the "Flickr" logo on the side bar. Enjoy!

Just following the herd

According to the news, over two-thirds of all adults in Canada have a lottery ticket for tonight's $40 million draw. Six minutes before the cut-off, I decided to join them. Fourty million dollars! Come ON folks, who wouldn't?!?! Did you know lotto has a "buy online" option? So great! I was too embarassed to actually go to store and buy one (the fact I'm broadcasting it over the internet is beside the point....).

In twenty minutes, I'm gonna be rrrrrrich! (That will more than cover the stupid ticket I got today right in front of my house. But that's another rant for another time.... gggrrrrrrr)

Gotta go watch the draw and check off my winning numbers.

Yeah right. *rolls eyes at self for getting suckered in*

Who needs sleep?

It's 4:16 am. I have to be up in two hours. Not cool. Not cool at all.

School's on!

BC teachers voted 77% to return to school tomorrow. It's not an overwhelming yes vote, for sure. All eyes are on the government now to see what they will do now with the mediator's non-binding recommendations.

Two solid weeks out on strike. Yuckity yuck yuck! While it was nice having my days to myself, I'm glad to be back. And also glad not to be getting a criminal record for contempt of court. (This was deemed an illegal strike, for those who don't know, and teachers were found in civil contempt of court. Had we stayed out after the recommended settlement, we would surely have been found in criminal contempt.) Happy days.

I'll sure be glad to see the kids tomorrow!

Oh dear oh dear

Ever since I posted about tequila I've been fretting you all think I"m a drunk! Ha ha ha... as if anyone in their right mind should even care about a post like that, but hey, I"m... 'special.'

You're probably laughing at me even harder now than you were before. That's me, here for your entertainment.

You're laughing with me...

....right?

You learn something new every day

Like how to do tequila shots.

That was the lesson last night, a typical Friday night for me. Minus the tequila.

I didn't have any plans, and I was soooo sick of strike news, and wanted to hang out with friends for the evening. My friend Brad popped onto MSN, so I invited him over to watch a movie. I wanted to watch it at my place cause I was jsut too lazy to go out. Turns out that had the added benefit of me not having to drive home. In between making the plans and Brad getting here, I had this highly unusual desire to drink. Now before last night, I have never had more than two drinks in a row, and even after last night, I have never been drunk. So when Brad got here, I pulled out the contents of my liquor cabinet. I also pointed out the champagne (ok, ok, sparkling wine) in my fridge.

We decided on Tequila and bubbly. I decided I needed to eat, first, lest someting very, very bad happen to me. Brad decided to take photos to document the evening. One shot and three glasses of champagne later, my head was a wee bit wobbly and I dozed off and on all the way through the movie. Brad threw popcorn at me periodically to keep me awake.

.

"Wow. I never thought I'd be doing tequila shots with HILLARY!" Always trying to surprise people, I suppose.

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.

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Lick salt, down tequila, bite lemon. Repeat as necessary.

My brain hurts

Well, it would seem that I got myself into something bigger than I intended to over on my strike blog. It's been getting an average of 250-300 hits a day, one regular commenter has been promoting my site on the radio, and it's the FIRST site that comes up when you do a search on MSN for bc teacher strike. It's pretty high up there on Google, too (#2, I think) when you add the word blog. It's going to be sent out to an email list of 980 music teachers around the province with the next update, and today, it made it's way into the picket bulletin for all Vancouver Elementary schools. I didn't even give them the site! It's kinda fun, I feel famous! ;)

But it's also been challenging, because there have been many people writing to disagree. It's been a challenge to figure out exactly what I think in the midst of this (still not there yet!) and to wonder if some of what commenters are saying is right. I think, if an education system gets to the point that governments declare a teacher strike illegal, yet teachers feel that what they are fighting for is SO important that they are willing to defy a court order and stay out on the pickert line, there obviously needs to be some major changes made. But in the midst of a crisis, you deal with a crisis, THEN you look at fixing the system.

Lots of commenters, one in particular, are proposing such huge changes to the education system in BC, and it's pretty overwhelming to think about. I don't agree with him/them, necessarily, I dont think, but man, all this reading and thinking... it's making my brain hurt! ;)

For heaven's sake, I didn't even know what kind of views constituted "left" and "right" when this strike started! I just started my strike blog as a venting place to rant and post pictures and thoughts about the stike without boring you all to death with political talk. (When I come accross a political blog, I pass on by. I didn't want you to do the same with mine!) But now I'm up to my eyeballs in debate and questions and wonderings and a weeny bit of doubt and a whole lot of frustration. AAARRGGG! It's good, but not what I had intended. It's a little much for this supposedly minimally political gal.

I'm off to go do something mindless now. Duuuuuuhhhhhh..... no ask me nuttin compleecated.

A milestone

WOOHOO! I've reached 5000 hits to my blog!

One Day For Aids

My friend John Andru is amazing. Amazing, amazing, amazing. No wonder City TV chose him as this week's City Hero. He has initiated and planned a huge AIDS fundraising and awareness campaign called One Day For AIDS. Basically, it's to bring the AIDS pandemic down to a tangible level. We can get so overwhelmed by statistics that it's hard to feel like we can do anything. But, what One Day For AIDS is asking of people is that they give either one day of their salary or one day of their time to help fight AIDS. At left, John displays a pin of the AIDS ribbon he received for his work with Serving in Mission (photo courtesy of this site).

Here is a blurb from the One Day For AIDS website that explains a little more...

One Day For AIDS (ODFA) is a challenge to YOU to give ONE DAY to HIV/AIDS relief worldwide. Would you consider giving one day's pay, or half a day's pay, or one hour's pay to AIDS relief through one of three partner organizations [Doctors Without Borders, Mennonite Central Committee, or Serving in Mission]? Or would you consider giving one day's time by raising awareness, volunteering to care for people living with HIV/AIDS, or becoming an advocate? ...

Why One Day For AIDS?
It is easy to become overwhelmed by the statistics. What is another million people infected with HIV/AIDS when there are already over forty million people? Instead of shrugging it off, One Day For AIDS is a personal invitation to step up and make a difference. It's a simple concept. Could you give ONE DAY to give someone living with HIV/AIDS hope?

ODFA is about turning ordinary people into agents of positive change for this world and giving hope to people who need it most.

Since I'm on strike right now, I can't give one day's salary, but I wil be giving one day of my time. Join me!


Click on the logo to be directed to the One Day For AIDS website. While this is based in Vancouver, there is no reason you couldn't volunteer or donate wherever you are. If you do, let me know! I would love to hear about how far this campaign could spread!

To the tune of the Gilligan's Island Theme Song...

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a beastmobile
That started whilst driving to school,
I thought I'd lost a wheel
The hub cap popped and it rolled away,
Right into a very big ditch
The second one's gone and so's the third,
The fourth one I should pitch

I rev it once, I rev it twice,
And then I rev some more
When suddenly with a great big thunk,
It's on the road once more
Smoke from the hood as the oil leaks,
The engine light goes on
But it's ok, it always does,
Soon it will be gone

Electric windows they still work,
But not the passenger side
I control the windows though,
The other switches are fried
Cruise control, A/C long gone,
But the vent still does the trick
Don't keep it on for too long, though,
The fumes will make you sick

My dear old Cutlas beastmobile,
You still run, it's true
You've got character, they say,
I know we're not through
I'll drive you to the bitter end,
I'll be good to you
Please be good to me old girl,
I can't afford to fix you.
I can't afford to fix you!


Back to the contest

What does Hillary need?

And round and round and round we go...

Sean in Livonia, Michigan gave this to Tim in Philadelphia, Pensilvania, who gave this to Heather in Denver, Colorado, who gave this Kristi in Colorado, who gave this to Amy in ??? USA, who gave this to Marla in Toronto, Ontario who gave this to Andrea in Ottawa, Ontario, who gave it to me!

Go to Google. Type, "(Your name) needs". Yes, in quotes, so it looks like this "Hillary needs". But with your name, not mine, unless you really want to look through the same pages I did (darn that sharing a name with Hillary Clinton! I had to wade through all the "Hillary needs to separate with Bill" crap, and even still most of these are about the Clintster. Rar.)

Choose your ten favourites and share them with the world, who really, really, REALLY wants to know. Or share them with my comment feature. Either one.

1. Hillary needs fat in her face. (Um, how about not?)
2. Hillary needs a glass of water. (Yes she does.)
3. Hillary needs to learn to let go. (Hmm...)
4. Hillary needs to find something to sell, give away, throw out or burn. (Purge! Purge!)
5. Hillary needs a June Cleaver makeover. (Makeover, yes. June Cleaver, I think not. See #9)
6. Hillary needs no introduction. (This is what I've been trying to say, people!)
7. Hillary needs to do te folowing to improove her speling skilz. (Hardy har har.)
8. Hillary needs to do her job. (Hmmm... that one's a little too close to home! I wish I could.)
9. Hillary needs to get mad, get sassy. (Yeah baby!)
10. Hillary needs every cent she can get. (Donations, anyone?)

Happy Thanksgiving!

I feel like I've been in a funk for a year. I'm tired of feeling this way. Sometimes when you're looking too closely at your problems or the things that don't quite seem right in your life, you can miss the big picture. It's time to lift my eyes up off of myself and get a change in perspective...

* Jesus Christ * fall leaves crunching underfoot * Nana, who has prayed for me every single day of my life * the chance to see some of the most magestic sights I've ever seen this summer * beginning a solid career at age 24 * those trees whose leaves turn colours from the inside out, leaving red leaves on the outside, yellow in the middle, and green closest to the trunk * having friends I know I can rely on when things are tough * oreo ice cream * my parents' example of a solid, lasting marriage * finally beginning to be friends with my sister * puffy white clouds against blue sky * country music that makes me cry because it reminds me of what's important * wonderful, friendly, caring landlords * the means to meet every need I have and more * my car (yes, MY car) which gets me where I need to go. Usually. * grace * living in Vancouver * having a life free of major disaster or pain * my pompom socks, which remind me of my best friend * hugs from kids * the experience of having loved * being raised in a Christian home * the chance to have gone to university * a wonderful roommate experience * a friend who is always able to talk sense into me * some painful experiences over the last year * a God who will never leave me * my suite * a church home that encourages me to be who I am, the good, the bad, and the sometimes ugly * I am safe and warm at night * laughter * the night sky * memories * Camp Kawkawa * the touch of a friend's hand on my arm * joy * the security of knowing my parents will always be there for me, no matter what * the ocean * my dog * freedom * a season of searching * gerbera daisies * God's faithfulness * wind that whips my hair around my face * music * chocolate * not getting what I think I want sometimes * sunshine * second (and third, and fourth, and fifth... ) chances * being able to be myself * the constant struggle to figure out who I am *

My life, just as it is
where I have come from
the road I am pointed towards
the joy I feel when I remember all I have been given
the hurt and longing and confusion that comes with living
waking up every morning
to the knowledge that I am safe
in the hands of the creator of the universe
and that this same God
knows me deeply and personally... ME!
My life, just as it is...

For all these things and infinitely more, I am thankful.

Ak! Help!

So about half of my sidebar has decided to relocate the the veeeery bottom of the page, blow all my posts. Apparently it still looks fine in Mozilla, but on Explorer it's all wonky. I can't fix it! Any suggestions?

(what?!?! Hillary writes a post under a thousand words??? What has this world come to??? Yeah yeah, so my last few posts have been kinda long... hopefullythat hasn't scared you all away! ;)

And now for something completely different...

So this is how non-political I am: I'm even uncomfortable with that giant post I wrote yesterday even being on my blog. I was considering moving it to my other webpage and just linking to it. But I wrote it, it's there, so there it will stay. Unless I change my mind. Anyway, I said this would be different...

This past week has been both hard and interesting. Cathy left on Monday after staying with me for two months. Her practicum was over and she has two weeks to spend visiting friends and relatives in Edmonton and Winnepeg, then she goes back home to Australia. It was so great to have her here. We hung out all the time (and with my friends Dave and Jordan, we made quite the foursome!) and it was neat to have a roommate experience. Other than living with my aunt and uncle and cousins for eight months in northern BC (Mackenzie, to be exact, a town so small mapquest doesn't recognize it), I've only lived on my own.

I've always enjoyed living on my own, definitely not because I like to have lots of "on my own" time. I am a person who needs to be around people. But living on my own, I can do what I want - host a Bible study or dinner party without checking with anyone first, rearrange the furniture (not that I've done that, but hey, I could if I wanted to!), leave a mess (err... I neeever do that...), or be alone if I want. It the "it's my house and I get to do what I want" idea. However, because there is not someone else at home, I am often having people over - I love to host, talking on the phone - I love to talk, or talking to people on messenger. I need that connection with other people.

And honestly, in the past few months, I had been feeling a little fed up with living on my own. If my landlords weren't so great, I didn't like my place so much and I didn't really know my neighbours, I would consider moving and maybe finding a roommate. It would certainly be nice to share the burden of rent! But I don't really know anyone who I'd like to live with who is also looking for a roommate, and I really don't want to leave the good thing I've got here (even if the silly patio posts are BLUE. Rar.). It's jsut that sometimes it was geting me down living alone.

Also, a few months before Cathy came to stay with me, I was wondering if the "It' my house I'll do what I want" thing was promoting self-centeredness. I don't have to have consideration for anyone else at home. While sometimes it's good to be able to have the freedom to do what we want, I think too much of that could end up to be a bad thing. So when Cathy talked about coming, I was worried about that on two levels. First, on a more selfish level, I wondered if I would not enjoy having to share my space with someone else, and if I would resent having to check with someone else before I had people over or made plans. That was only a small concern, though. The second concern was that *I* would drive *her* crazy. Also, I wanted her to feel like this was her home, too, not that she was jsut a guest and should feel like she had to ask before she did anything.

It turned out I had nothing to worry about. Or at least, if I drove her crazy, she hid it well! ;) Even though it was tight quarters, I actually really enjoyed having someone else around. It certainly didn't hurt that it was someone as fun as Cathy! I didn't mind sharing my space at all, and it turned out checking with her was kind of a non issue most of the time because we'd just always hang out together (she didn't know anyone really when she came, so my friends jsut became her friends). And, she felt totally at home here, which made me really happy.

So when it came time for her to leave, I started to wonder how I'd be feeling about gonig back to being on my own again. It was kind of getting to me before, so would it be all the more obvious that I live alone after having the contrast of having a roommate?

Cathy left to catch her flight after I went to work on Monday, so when I went to work, she and all her stuff were still there. Packed up, but still there. When I got home from work, my place looked really empty! She had even taken off the sheets and folded up the quilt on her bed. Sigh. I was very obviously back to living on my own again.

That combined with work being exhausting this week and all this ugly strike stuff, it's been a rough week. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday all I did when I got home was check email, read a few blogs, and flop in front of the tube, only to fall alseep there and wake up the next morning with a crick in my neck and a bigger mess around the house than there was the day before (those mess-making trolls... they must come at night and wreak havoc. There's no way *I* could let things get so messy. Not me, no sir.). I couldn't even hack Bible Study on Wedensday. I never skip out of that unless I'm out of town, which is hardly ever.

So it's been interesting to say the least. It's the long weekend now, though, and I'm going to be well fed (three Thanksgiving dinners in a row, and Dave and Jordan had me over for dinner last night) and hopefully well rested. It looks like I"ll still have some free time next week, cuase I don't think this teacher's strike is going to be resolved soon.

I jsut hope this feeling of sheer exhaustion and mild depression goes away soon. I want to be back to Happy-Go-Lucky-Hillary again. Maybe it's time for a walk through all those crunchy fall leaves to cheer me up.

OK, so here's the thing...

Whenever I come across a blog where people are spouting their political views, I usually move along quite quickly. I'm just not interested in political ranting and raving. Now that every teacher in BC is out in strike, I'm interested in what people have to say about it, and I'm actually going to - *gasp!* - write about something that's quite politically controversial, mostly for me to get my head around all the issues and numbers and statistics that have been flying around lately. If you're interested in what's going on, read on. Please comment, whatever side you're on (just don't be nasty!). I'd be interested to know what people's views are on this icky situation.

If you're not interested, scroll on down and enjoy the rest of my blog!

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The Strike Plan
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Initially, teachers had a plan of escalating action. September 27 marked the beginning of phase one, which was to last two weeks and involved the withdrawal of supervision duties and administrative paperwork (handing out notices, collecting school fees, etc). Phase two was to be two weeks of rotating strikes where any given school district in the province would only be out one day per week. Finally, if nothing was resolved by October 24, phase three involved a full scale walkout.

That plan was quickly changed when the government passed Bill 12, which imposed a contract and essentially made any job action illegal. However, Bill 12 once again did absolutely nothing to address any of the concerns that teachers wanted to discuss at the bargaining table. It was an insult to teachers, who are already tired of the government's clear stance against teachers. (For example, in 2003 the government changed the BC College of Teachers to be comprised of only government appointed representatives. Like every other profession in BC, teachers used to be self-governed. With the backing of the courts, we withheld college fees until a change was made.) In emergency meetings earlier this week, teachers voted 90.5% in favour of walking off the job starting today, regardless of any back to work legislation that will be or has been passed. Teachers are not going back to work until we have negotiated some kind of contract and all members have voted to return to work. This is more a political protest now than a strike, and it could mean heavy fines and possibly even jail time for union leaders or even individual members. There's even talk of a provincial general strike. It's big.

This being said, striking is NOT what teachers want to be doing. Kids need to be in school. It's a huge inconvenience for parents, especially lower income families. And teachers are of course not being paid while they're not working. But in the grand scheme of things, no matter what people say, this is for the long range benefit of students. It's so hard to see that when it's such an uncomfortable situation in the here and now.

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The Issues

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There is a great document on the BC Teachers Federation website that gives a summary of the context of this strike. That is where I got a lot of this information.

Issue # 1: A collective agreement that protects working and learning conditions .
In 2002, the government tore up teachers' legally binding negotiated contract. The biggest thing that was removed was guarantees on working and learning conditions, meaning things like the elimination of class size limits and guarantees for support for kids with special needs and English as a Second Language. Teachers had spent the last ten years bargaining and accepting smaller or no salary increases because they believed that learning conditions were more important, and *POOF!* all of that went down the tube. The public education system has been deteriorating ever since, and even universities now are seeing the difference in first year university students who have been affected by these changes. With no guarantees on working and learning conditions, here are only four examples of the deterioration of education in Vancouver alone:

* At my school, there is a grade 7 class at my school with SEVEN ministry designated kids in it (ie. special needs). There is no support worker. The teacher is on her own, trying to meet the highly individual needs of these kids AND provide a quality education to the other 23 kids in her class.
* Also at my school, there is a boy in grade 1 who has a ministry designation and should have been receiving support from day one of this school year. Everything was in place last year and was ready to go. His teacher has been fighting for a support worker for a month and still has not received one, because the workers are assigned to other students who need more support time than they have been funded for.
* There are classes in Vancouver that have 46 students in them because class size limitations now are only based on a district average. These classes are trying to operate in classrooms built for 28, which used to be the limit.
* Or how about the special class for kids with severe behaviour disorders at a Vancouver high school? It used to have a limit of 12, with a flexibility factor that could go up to 15, and there was a full time, specially trained support worker and a full time youth worker assigned to that class. Now some poor relatively new teacher 'teaches' this class of twenty three students with only a part time education assistant.

The contract that the government ripped up would have prevented every one of these situations. And to top it all off, the government then made it illegal to bargain for those working and learning conditions back. This leads into the second issue in this strike.

Issue #2: The restoration of bargaining rights.
Teachers want the right to be able to bargain for working and learning conditions, which is currently illegal to do. This has become the most important issue now with the introduction of Bill 12, which essentially imposes a contract by extending the current imposed contract till June 2006, thus ordering teachers back to work, and says, "There. Now everything is all better." (If you read it, check out section 3 that basically negates the Labour Relations Code. Nice. Or the explanatory note at the bottom. Laughable!) Even before Bill 12, the second issue at the bargaining table was the reinstatement of bargaining rights. In a democratic society, people have the right to bargain for the conditions of their employment. Since 1993, teachers have not had a negotiated contract. Rather, successive governments have imposed contract after contract. This time round, after 18 months of bargaining, the government will not budge at all on any issue brought forward. It's clear that they are not going to bargain, and teachers are sort of up against a wall. Bill 12 came out only three days into the first phase of job action, which only involved withdrawal of supervision and administrative paperwork. It was an extremely heavy handed move. The government is not willing to talk, and just hides behind legislation. Teachers just want to be able to negotiate a contract. I've seen signs all over that say "Communicate, don't Legislate," which pretty much sums up the feeling.

Issue #3: A fair and equitable salary increase.
Yes, the third issue is about money. For some reason, any time a teacher mentions salary in negotiations, it takes precedence and everyone goes, "Oh, they just want more money. Those greedy teachers." Snarky remarks about summers "off" come up (by the way, our paychecks also get a two month vacation), as well as all kinds of other nasty things. But the fact is, in the last ten years, teacher's salaries have only increased by an average of 1% per year, which is not even enough to reflect inflation. Members of Parliament's salaries have increased an average of 3.6% per year over ten years. To break it down, from 1996 to 2001, teachers received a total of a 3.2% increase. From 2001 to 2004, the government allowed teachers an increase of 2.5% per year for three years, BUT only provided funding for the first year. This meant that school districts had to make up the difference. How did they do that? Close schools, raise class size limits (remember? There aren't limits on class sizes anymore), and lay off teachers. Some schools have even gone to four day weeks or nine day fortnights because there isn't enough funding to operate five days a week. Any increase to salary has come at a huge cost to kids. This should not be the case. Teachers are asking for a fair and equitable increase in salary that would bring BC teachers salaries closer in line with negotiated salaries in Alberta and Ontario and would help meett he rising cost of living. The government has had a strict zero zero zero policy for workers in the public sector, yet they have just given billions of dollars in tax breaks to corporations and are boasting a 1.5 billion dollar surplus this year. Yet they keep saying "No, no no."

The way the governement has gone about "union busting" in this province, teachers have many unions behind us. There are tons of public sector contracts that are coming due for re-negotiating in the spring, and they are not going to settle for zero zero zero either. This srtike could get very big very fast if other unions decide to stand up with teachers and protest the way the government is dealing with contracts. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a provincial general strike on October 17, the day of a massive labour rally at hte parliament buildings in Victoria.

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Personally, I feel like this strike/political protest is a necessary action. Teachers just don't have a choice when faced with a government that tears up contracts, won't negotiate, ignores UN International Labour Organization recommendations, and legislates away Supreme Court rulings saying that what they are doing is wrong. Ha ha, believe it or not, I'm NOT an extreme "Rah Rah Union" person, but this situation is really bad.

And so off I go for picket duty, hoping things are resolved quickly so I can just get back to doing my job.

Quotables

Water the plants and bring the hamster home. This is it.
~ On the homepage of the Vancouver Elementary School Teachers Association yesterday, the day before a full scale BC wide teacher walkout

It's official

Ninety point five percent. That's the percentage of BC teachers who voted for strike action starting tomorrow. This is big. Big big big. Teachers are not going back to work until there's a settlement reached. With this government, I could be off work for quite some time. And what if they legislate us back to work? Well we were already doing a very minimalist job action (no supervision, not handing out notices from administration), and they already DID legislate us back. There was a big emergency meeting last night to vote about going out in protest anyway. That's what 90.5% of teachers voted for. There's even talk of a possible one day provincial general strike. This is getting nasty, but there's not really any choice.

I'm not really terribly political, but I'm behind the strike for sure. I'll explain tomorrow what's been going on (mostly to get it straight in my own head) and why such a drastic action has been taken. Right after picket duty.

Eeeewww!!!

Ok, I have to rant. My house (well, the house I rent a suite in!) is being painted, and overall, it looks pretty good. It's grey with blue trim now, as opposed to beige with green trim. I really liked the green, I've discovered, now that it's royal blue, but oh well.

But today when I got home from work (dodging paint cans and lumber and sawhorses and trailing bushes that have been taken off the house and are now mostly obstructing the walkway to my door - at least that's not permanent) the painter was painting the once beige posts of the balcony BRIGHT BLUE! The garage that I look at is green and is staying green. The yard, which I also look at, is gorgeous - grass and oodles of flowers in the summer and trees down the side. Green, beige, and garden.... it was all very natural looking. Even my patio furniture fit in. Now it's green, garden, and ROYAL BLUE. ICK!!! And what's up with the blue stripe around my door ? (see photos below) French doors... aren't they by definition white? He WAS going to paint the whole door blue, but luckily I was able to ask that it stay white before that happened. I'm all for the bright red door style on the front of a house, but not on a french door. Come on.

I can't really say anything now, the deed is done. I guess I'll just have to suck it up. But those blue posts are really quite gross.

Maybe a can on beige paint will mysteriously spill down the balcony posts. Crap.

Before

After

(I told the painter I was taking comparison shots, and he asked to be in a photo. "What? You're not gong to take one with the guy who can take credit for all of this?" Sure, buddy. Fill your boots.)

What was I THINKING???

Oh wow. I'm shaking my head in disbelief. I actually WORE that?

In an extremely ironic co-incidence, just after all this "gunky teen" talk, my mom dropped off a bag of old clothes that she had come accross while re-organizing the attic. It was all stuff I wore as a teenager, mostly in junior high. How fitting.

It wasn't so much the style of the clothes that shocked me (though there WAS some pretty funny stuff) but the size. I could fit two of me in most of my shirts! I was heavier in high school, and apparently to cover it up I decided to wear really baggy clothes.

Stacy and Clinton of What Not To Wear would have been mortified! (Hey, maybe I can start wearing the stuff again, just long enough to be reported and get five grand - american! - for a whole new wardrobe! Sweet!)

I'm not kidding you, these clothes are truly mu-mu-esque. Sheesh!

Before and After!

A New Blogger Trend?

Come on now, I know you have one. That photo of you as an awkward gunky teenager or pre-teen. Show it off! I wanna see! Ellen posted hers, which reminded me that I have a photo like that on my computer, too. And I'll bet so do you. Go on, post it!

Dah da-da daaaaahhhhhh.....

All I can say is, mom made me wear the jacket, I hated pink and shoulder pads. I had a big gap in my front teeth and didnt like to smile with open lips. And the glasses. Oh the glasses. They're even moderately straight in that picture. That wasn't usually the case! Gotta love the eighties!

Boy I'm glad I grew out of that gunky teen phase.

Eeerrrrr..... yeeeah. I'm out of the teen phase, anyway. ;)

Sick Days

*cough hack sputter snurf*

What??? A post at 9 am? On a school day? How can this be?

I'm home sick. I should have been home sick on Monday and Tuesday, too, but I went to school. Why? I was thinking about sick days as I was driving back home today after going in early today to write out my lesson plan for my sub. I always feel guilty taking them.

Am I really so sick that I have to miss work? Other teachers are sick, too, but they're still working. Dayquil's pretty good. Maybe I could just drug myself up and push my way through the day.

I always feel so guilty staying home. I worry about what others will think and wonder if I should have just pushed my way through the day. My logic brain tells me this is silly. How am I supposed to get better if I don't rest? And why go to work and make others sick, too? But logic brain gets drowned out by doubting brain.

Work work work! Not feeling well? Suck it up, princess! Why is it that our culture or our society has so ingrained in us the idea that to call in sick is to be weak? That we should ignore our health and just keep working?

Now I have all day to contemplate those questions.

Or maybe I'll snuggle into bed with a big mug of hot water with honey and lemon. I think that sounds like a better plan.

Naptime!

No iron deficiency here

This is what happens when you crash a boys night out.

Having not even spoken to any of my friends all week (I was at grade 7 camp, I'll update about that another time), tonight I was up for some company. I ended up calling Dave and Jordan to see what they were up to. They were headed out with their friend Neil for some dinner and then something afterwards (which, really, let's be serious: it's Dave we're talking about, so "something" meant playing Settlers of Catan) so they invited me along. They were dead set on Chinese, but by the time we firmed up plans we were going to Sambas, a Brazillian BBQ downtown.

This place is definitely a dining event. (But you'd better be hungry. And not a vegetarian.) There is live music, Brazillian dancers and martial artists, and servers walking around with every kind of meat you can imagine on giant skewers who come to your table and carve you as little or as much meat as you want. It's all you can eat meat. The meal also comes with the 'salad bar,' which I suppose has lettuce if you count what the bowls are lined with. This is one serious salad bar. Potato salads, pasta salads, yam salads, couscous salads, chickprea salads, fried bananas, guacamole, onion rings, (to only name a few) and of course, platters and platters of meat. At the salad bar. Ham, roast beef, black bean soup with beef, fish, prawns, chicken... and on and on it goes.

When we first sat down, the server brought over a set of tongs each and a meat signal card. Oh yes. You know a place that has tongs as one of its main utensils is very, very serious about meat. And then the signal card. As long as it's on the green side, they'll keep coming with meat. When you can't take it anymore, or you want a break, you flip it over the the red side and they'll pass you by (passover?).

We feasted on many many meats tonight. Silliness abounded (come on, three guys and endless meat? They were in heaven!) and we had a great time! Neil won the meat award for the night, hand down. This guy just didn't say no every time more meat came by. We had beef: ribs, strip loin, sirloin, sirloin tip, brazillian beef, and probably more cuts that I can't remember now. We had buffalo, lamb, pork, veal, sausages, and prawns. We'd been eating for about an hour when Dave started rubbing his eyes. We figured the pressure he was feeling was meat blindness setting in. Ah, meat blindness. Jordan said he felt like he had a bleeding lip (most of the meat was medium rare, I'd say, so lots of juice. After a while, all you could taste was the juice).

After two trips to the 'salad' bar and rounds and rounds of meat (Jordan figured he and Dave had eaten a pound and a half of meat or so each. Neil had way more. I had way less. But still more than any one person should have in one sitting. Ever.), we were wondering how we were going to walk out of there. Should Dave even be driving? Drunk on meat? But still, Dave had heard that there was cornish hen available, and we hadn't seen that yet. So he asked for it, and the four of us shared two cornish hens. But that's it. We were done. No more meat. We were about to ask for the bill when another server came up with a skewer we hadn't seen yet. "Chicken wrapped in bacon?" he asked. Suuure! Aaarrggg...

After the chicken, that was it. Even Neil flipped his meat signal card to "I give up." We were done.

And I'm pretty much set for meat for the next month.

But can it be seen from space?

Artists Erect Giant Pink Bunny on Mountain.

Oooooo - kay.

I must be crazy!

In a few short hours I'm off to camp. Grade 7 camp, to be specific. Five days in Squamish with 100 twelve and thirteen year olds. And I volunteered for this?!?!?!

Actually, I'm looking forward to it. I've taught music to most of these kids for two years now, so I kinda know them. They're good kids, most of them, but there are a few rough ones in the bunch, too (as one of the teachers at my school puts it, "They're not bad kids, they're broken kids." No child should have to go through what some of these kids do).

Because I only teach these kids for 40 minutes a week, sometimes all I feel I do is yell at them. That's not true, but it sure feels like it sometimes. I'm looking forward to getting to know these kid better and to building positive relationships with them that will hopefully carry through the rest of the year. I'm also hoping to let these kids know that I care about them. I want them to know that they are valued. I want them to catch a glimpse of God's love for them through me (Ok, God, you're gonna have to get me out of the way to do that!). I'm hoping, too, to get to know the other teachers I'm going with, too, and for them to get to know me a little more, too.

I really want people to see God's love in me. If you are someone who believes in prayer, please pray for me this week! I would really appreciate it!

I'll be back on Friday afternoon, I'm sure with lots to blog about! Have a great week!

Home

Apparently this is still a confused word for me.

I have been living on my own for... [counting on my fingers] ... wow. Six years now. I have been at my place now for exactly three. I feel like my place is home. I still refer to my mom and dad's place as 'home' sometimes, but I would say overall, 'home' is my own place.

That's sort of a wierd shift for me. It's strange going home (there I go again... I mean to mom and dad's) and not totally feeling like I belong there. I don't have a bedroom there anymore, and I don't always remember where things are. When I'm helping to unload the dishwasher, I often have to ask where things go in the kitchen.

Even more strange is coming home, er, to mom and dad's, and having the first person I see be someone I've never met before. My parents are part of a homestay program for a few language schools in town, so there is almost always at least one student from Japan or Germany or Brazil or any number of other countries staying there. Sometimes I walk in (I do still have a housekey!) and the new student looks at me like, "Who are you?" (They're not always that attentive to photos on the walls, etc). I feel like saying, "Hi, I'm Hillary. I live here."

Except I don't.

I realized this past week that this issue of 'home' is more confused for me than I thought it was. As I've mentionned, my friend Cathy from Australia is staying with me right now while she's finishing up her ocupational therapy practicum. Other than her staying with me, I've never had a roommate, so the only reason I've had to phone my house is to occasionally leave a reminder voicemail for myself.

The other day I was grocery shopping and wanted to know if Cathy wanted me to pick anything up. So, I got out my cell to call home. And that's exactly what I did. I dialed the number without even thinking, and after two rings, I got a voice I was definitely not expecting.

"Uh.... hi, Dad."

I had called home.

We had a good chuckle about this and then I did what I meant to do in the first place: call home.

Now this makes for a cute story, but it's not exactly blogwothy in and of itself. However, the story's not over. (Hillary? Tell a short story? Neeeever!)

Cut to last Friday afternoon. I was preparinng for my substitute teacher who will be there all week while I'm at Grade 7 Camp. It was taking longer than I had expected and Cathy and I had plans for the evening. I needed to call her to ask her to get dinner started so we could eat before we went out.

The command went from my brain to my fingers: Call Home. One ring later, "Um... hi, mom."

I laughed at myself and told her how I ended up sounding confused and talking to her instead of Cathy. She then then told me that she thought I was calling to wish my dad happy birthday. AAAHHHH! Which also meant that I had forgotten to call her on her birthday three days earlier. But that level of "I'm a bad bad daughter" guilt requires it's very own post.



'Home' is not a cut and dry word for me, apparently. I guess on some level, mom and dad's will always be home. It's where I grew up, it's where my family is. It looks like I'm in for a few more confused phone calls 'home.' And I'm ok with that.