I get the day off!

Time warp

Okay, so I thought today was Halloween.
And I was so sure of that fact, that I though there was a mistake in the Blogger time counter when I saw it was the 29th.

Snow Day!

My studio manager called me last night and warned me that she may tell me not to come in in the morning, because of some bad weather. I was like "pish posh" ... then went to look at the weather forecast... no biggie. Little did I know that I was looking at Iqaluit's forecast. Not Rankin's.

Can we discuss the -27 with windchill in the morning?
Does this mean Halloween is canceled?


Things that make me a non-notherner

1. I say "out the road" instead of "up the road"
(I fought for a good ten minutes with K. about this one. I told him what I did today, including going "out the road" and he corrected me, saying I went "up the road" that that was its real name... and then I wasn't impressed because he said that you wouldn't say "going to Up the Road"... which means the name of the road isn't Up the Road it's The road... and it gets murkier and murkier....

2. I want and will drive my ATV in the winter. Come hell or high water. Or snow, sleet, hail or wind. A "real" northern would have a snowmobile. But not me. I'm Jackie. I'm stubborn. Hear me roar and curse as I try in vain to start the thing in -30 weather.

This is the way I do the north.


Northern shopping

Shopping for shoes up north is a fantastic thing.
Well, shopping for sneakers, when you don't like having to deal with a million different options, is a fantastic thing.

I have been trying to buy sneakers for a couple months now. I go to a sporting goods store. I look at the millions of running shoes. I try on a pair that looks pretty, probably involves blue or green accents, and is relatively cheap. Then I am not really impressed, can't commit to the price/shoe, and leave.

Every time I rented a car in Quebec City (which was four or five times in the five months I lived there) I went on a sneaker search. And every time I came back empty-handed.

Today, I went to the Northern to check out their selection. Telling myself it would make the aerobics easier... and that I needed a pair anyways... as my North Face hikers (the closest thing I have to runners) just weren't going to cut it (and they are starting to smell. Ew.)

I made my way past the electronics section (my favourite! and where I spend most of my time gawking at all the shiny gadgets...) to the back wall where the footwear is found.

There were four pairs of running shoes. Three Nikes and a no-name. I don't normally buy Nikes (normally too wide for my dainty little feet) but I didn't really have much of a choice today. I quickly eliminated the no-names. The three remaining were:

  • "Cheap" Nikes (Black and Pink) - and by cheap I mean just under a hundred
  • "Mid-range" Nikes (blue and white) - $120
  • "Expensive" Nikes (Pink, white and grey - - ew) - $140
Midrange Nikes (the ones I really wanted, based on looks alone) were not very comfy. Expensive Nikes were by far the ugliest, but most comfortable. And Cheap Nikes were pretty comfy, but I was suspicious of their "cheap" nature. In the end I went with Expensive Nikes. They are ugly. And I don't care. Because there were only three options at the Northern in Iqaluit... and they were the best.

Northern living may have made my shopping experience pricier, but there's no doubt its made simpler too.

Ode to a coffee

Dearest latte,
Long have I yearned for thee.
Thine velvety texture
and bold taste.
Invigorating my tastebuds
and awakening my senses.
Frothy milk.
Fresh ground beans.
A warm hug on a cold day,
and a slap in the face on a sleepy afternoon.

I have just discovered the Sugar Rush latte.
I haven't had an espresso drink in weeks. Months, maybe. Okay, probably just weeks.
It cost an arm and a leg, but totally worth it. And a nice reward for an otherwise frustrating day of unanswered phone calls.


I think my dishwasher just insulted me

A comment on my saggy bottom-bearing pants mayhaps?

I'm a genius

But you already knew that, didn't you?

So after some much-needed prodding from dear K. I changed the template of my blog (again). And this time I'm going to try and keep it for a bit, because I actually put WORK into this time...

Not that you can tell...

But that's a sign of good HTML editing, doncha think?

Anyways, the long and short of it is... the white/light blue was to LONG and the header was too SHORT.

And so I waved my little fingers, dabbled in the HTML template a bit... and voila. After being thoroughly confused for a good 15 minutes (and ignoring K. at the same time on msn...retribution baby), and bumping all of my text on the right hand column down to the bottom for a fleeting moment...voila.

A very spiffy template. I'm tres proud of myself. My geekdom reins.

New northern fad

C'mon. Everybody's doin' it.

It's "juice inna wine glass!"

Tonight's special: grapefruit juice.

And now that I think about it, it might as well BE wine... as it cost as much as a mid-range Ontario wine would cost back home.

Mmmhm all you "southerners" out there. A bottle of Ocean Spray grapefruit juice costs 13 bucks here.

But I've made this sucka last over a week so far. And if I keep knockin' em back in bite-sized juice glasses and wine glasses I might just make it to two weeks. That's a dollar a day!

Just think, I could give up my juice habit up north... and save the lives of millions of starving kids in third world countries.

Don't I feel good now!


And five, and four, and three...

I appear to be growing calf and butt muscles.

At least if my aching legs and ass have anything to say for it. And I blame Jaime

Went to aerobics last night, and MAN if I ever thought I was uncoordinated... well I was so right. So incredibly, embarrassingly right. It doesn't help that as I got exhausted, my legs turned to lipton noodles... and became absolutely useless. At this point in the routine, of course, we started to do grapevine/kicky moves.

So imagine, if you can. Jackie. Tiny stumpy legs. Exhausted. Sweaty. Without water while exerting herself more than she has in several months. Mounting and dismounting an aerobics step. With noodle legs. Doing twisty grapevine steps. And kicking forwards, backwards, and up.

It was a disaster. I couldn't stop laughing. Though I was the only one, so that was a shame.

New moment of self-discovery. When I make a fool of myself I laugh. I have given up (mostly) on the getting embarrassed. Now I just laugh. And it suits me just fine.

Wednesday/tomorrow is the advanced class. I'm pretty sure I'm going to die. It will be hilarious.

More delays

So I'm in a fight with the corporate moving company.

I packed up all my worldly goods in Quebec City on the 14th of September. That's right, the 14th.

Then had a week in PEI, and then three weeks in Iqaluit.

The idea being that I would arrive in Rankin Inlet, and VERY shortly my stuff would arrive. We even booked my tickets OUT of Iqaluit based on when the moving company said the crates would be in. They told me it would be there the beginning of next week.

So the beginning became the end... and then I find out that my stuff hasn't even reached Winnipeg yet. And that it should hit Winnipeg by Friday of last week.

I'm sitting here like... uh... WHAT? It's been OVER a month, and it's STILL not in Winnipeg? I mean, if the delay had of been due to weather, so be it. I understand that nothing went in or out of Rankin ... basically after I arrived. Fair enough. But this is outrageous. Last time I checked Winnipeg and Quebec City were NOT that far apart. I'm sooo annoyed.

And so now, I have an email from them saying that my stuff should (EMPHASIS ON THE WORD SHOULD) arrive on Sunday (one "crate" that is) and the rest next Tuesday. I'm seriously in doubt of this though. What annoys me the most, I think, is just the fact that by the time my stuff arrives I will have been living out of a suitcase for almost two months. That's gross. And I only actually brought one suitcase of clothes. The other one was packed with my duvet and my Canada Goose jacket.

So I'm a bit annoyed. And tired of wearing the same skanky pairs of jeans (yes I washed them, but I'm getting bored of them). And wish I had brought more socks, because I appear to be gradually losing them between the couch cushions...



Let the redecorating begin

So I've done up a couple "drafts" of what my apartment will look like with a splash of colour.
Last night/this morning was filled with crappy teen movies ... and the purging of my apartment of its ugly pink-lilypad border. I HATE peeling wallpaper. But the whole process is made much more bearable with Heath Ledger in all of his curly-haired-brunette glory sashay-ing across a way-too-elaborate school sports stadium.... AND the fact that soon my apartment will be more-or-less rid of that gross decoration. Yay.

And now, paint mock-ups.


Ms. Martha

Been oddly domestic this weekend.

It all started yesterday, when by 8pm I had already seen all the episodes of What Not To Wear and Say Yes to the Dress I could handle (in other words... they had started repeating the episodes they'd already played that evening...). I don't know what came over me, but I was like "I'm going to make bannock"

Anyone who knows me may or may not have just done a double take.

First: I cook. I do not bake
Second: I have never had any desire to make bannock. I made it in Girl Guides. Once. I don't remember what it tasted like. Or looked like. Other than it was bread. And I feel like we cooked it on a stick. Needless to say, I did not repeat that experience last night.

But I did make bannock. Or what I believe to be bannock. Shrug. It tasted yummie.

Then today, I made potato soup. Yep. Potato soup. Insert second double take. I don't DO soup. Not only do I not DO soup, as in eat soup, but I certainly don't MAKE soup.

UNTIL NOW. I guess the north... for lack of other things I might do (though, lets be honest, its not like I left a crazy life behind)... I have embraced my domestic side... and cooking has become my new hobby. Meh, works for me. I like to cook as is, so guess I'm just doing it when I'm bored now. Thank god I have a dishwasher!

Also, had the STRANGEST thing happen today... randomly my door bell rang in the middle of the day (nonetheless, before I took a shower heh). I answer, and it's a gaggle of children. One of them holds a key in my face and asks me if it is mine. I say "no" and they are like "do you know whose it is". I say "no". They ask if they can come in and visit. And for some reason I say yes. Maybe because I have a "no" quota.

So six kids (five boys and a girl... all seemingly cousins... around 7-10 years old) blow through my house, and exclaim how nice it is... and then proceed to hide in my closets. And I have a million closets. It was amusing at first, but they quickly wore out their welcome. But they took some really cute pictures of each other. And this is one I took of them.


Buttermilk anyone?

Inuvik inundated with free buttermilk
CBC News

Asking the question 'got milk?' in jest may grow sour quickly among residents in Inuvik, N.W.T., as they figure out what to do with more than a thousand extra litres of buttermilk.

The western Arctic town's NorthMart store, which usually sells six to 12 litres of buttermilk in a given week, received 1,200 litres by mistake last week. That shipment is more buttermilk than what the store sells in three years.

"I said, 'what are we going to do with all this buttermilk, right?'" grocery manager Joe Guy told CBC News on Wednesday. "You know, we only sell a few buttermilk a week, so it would last us forever."

As a result of the supplier's blunder, a sign currently outside the store reads: "Free buttermilk. No limits."

Residents in the town of about 3,500, who are used to paying almost $4 for one litre of buttermilk, have packed their refrigerators with multiple cartons — and are now scrambling to find all sorts of uses for the thick, sour dairy product before it expires on Oct. 24.

"I've been drinking, I think, probably about a litre and a half to two litres a day," Inuvik resident Martin Landry said. "It's a treat, so I might as well not let it go to waste."

((Read on...))

At my father's request.....

Here are more photos!



Loving small-town living

I have to admit. There is something just absolutely charming about this place.

I was a little hesitant at first, not really sure if this crazy change was going to work for me, and I'm still not exactly "at home" in my new apartment, but that will come.

But I'm starting to get used to... and genuinely like, that people know my name. I like that I can walk into the bank, and have the bank manager not only greet me by my first name but genuinely HELP ME make decisions.

Sometimes its a bit strange, like today when I was walking down the main aisle of the Northern, a gentleman I totally didn't recognize said "Hi Jackie" ... all I could do was smile and say hi right back, but I think it was pretty obvious I had no clue who he was.

I think I stand out a bit here, not necessarily because I SCREAM southern in my actions and attire, but maybe a bit more because of my hair. I've yet to see another redhead in this community. But I'm good with that. In fact, in spite of this... I was taken for Inuit on my first day at work.

There are constantly people flowing through here, mostly speaking little to no English... today, there was even a mute fellow who came by to "talk" to my co-worker. He's a really interesting guy, (the co-worker, I mean). He's not young by any means ... but he's constantly helping people out... and though his English is limited, he's just so friendly to me. And keeps finding words for me to try and say in Inuktitut.

That's pretty big with at least two of my co-workers here, getting me/teaching me Inuktitut. I was a little hesitant about it my first couple days, but am slowly warming up to the idea. Not because I didn't want to learn (I have even considered classes, remember) but rather because I was just so crazy overwhelmed with the rest of my world. I couldn't handle another language. I'm still dealing a bit with that. But it's great that they are so engaging about it. It really helps.

In other news.... I'M BUYING A HONDA! WWoooooT!!! And for you "southerners" who think that means I'm buying a Civic .... not even close. It's a four-wheeler/ATV and I am sooooo excited. I went to the bank today, and did all the paperwork for a loan, and I'll hear back tomorrow around lunch time. Then I just cross the street, get the Northern to write up a bill, cross the street again, get the money and it's ALL MINE! It's crazy, but it makes sense. I want something that can get me to work when I don't feel like walking, or during the winter, it will be nice for groceries etc. I don't know what it's like in other communities, but they are EVERYWHERE here. Kinda like the way taxis are in Iqaluit. I'm just so pumped to have my OWN transportation. Its nuts.

I'm pretty much decided I'm going to get the Honda TRX250. It's a good beginner ATV. It's on sale at the northern, and (god forbid) if I ever need parts, they are very easy to come by.
I'm not sold on the colour, but that's a small detail. Maybe I'll even get to drive it home from work tomorrow. I CAN'T WAIT!


I've been feeling particularly uninspired the past couple days.

It's not for lack of things happening, but maybe just expending so much energy on my non-blogging life.

Trying to figure out when my stuff is coming... it was supposed to arrive between Monday and Friday, but now it's not actually arriving in Winnipeg until Friday... and then flown up in tiny little pocket-sized bundles. It's a little disappointing, I was really looking forward to making my apartment "my own" this weekend. ESPECIALLY after seeing my neighbour's place. It looks so nice and homey.

However I am completely obsessed with my leather couch. It may or may not completely mold to my body, forming a nice little Jackie-sized nook. We are getting very well acquainted whilst I bask in all of my tv's cable-glory.

On the subject of cable... does anyone know if you can buy a PVR-like device without subscribing to ExpressVu or other satellite systems? Like a PVR for cable subscribers. I don't have a VCR and if I have to buy SOMETHING I might as well get something I want.


A brand new low...

Well I certainly created a bit of a splash in my first full day in Rankin. I really wish I had a theme song for my "Jackie antics" entries. They seem to be getting more and more frequent. Scary.

So, I was loaned the CBC vehicle last night, so I could do any grocery shopping etc. I needed to do... as well the guy that was supposed to take it home went home early, and left it with me.

I was thrilled, because that meant that Jaime and I could go on a driving tour of Rankin... rather than a walking, shivering tour of Rankin.

So to kill time, and to pick up a few things before I picked her up... I headed to the Northern (and apparently parked in the "for sale vehicles" area... oops!) I waste a sufficient amount of time, and head back out to my car.... and somehow set off the car alarm.... AND I CAN'T TURN IT OFF. So after about ten minutes of trying to turn it off... I give in, and call my producer. She drives down to help me out. She can't stop the alarm either. Then three kids ask me if I'm robbing my own car. Actually, it went more like this:

Kid: "Is there a robber?"
Me: "No, *engaging smile* I just set of the alarm by mistake"
Kid (to friends): She's robbing the car.


THEN. My producer and I jump in her car, head to CBC tech guy's place, because he knows how to fix it. He tells her. We try it. No dice.

By this time it is at least 20 minutes after I said I was going to meet Jaime.

THEN producer leaves me in the car, (to sit totally awkwardly, and freezing-ly in the screaming vehicle) to go get tech guy. Twenty minutes pass. No producer. No tech guy. Turns out in this time, he came, and tried to find me, but because I was parked in the "for sale" parking lot, thought all was fine.

FINALLY, I am rescued, and he drops me off at home, and then takes me to Jaime's place. A good hour after I said I was going to be there.

Or so I thought.

Turns out I'm an idiot... and got the wrong building, but decided I didn't need my wallet to go to Jaime's so I have NO MONEY. So I walk BACK to the Northern. And call 411. Ok I have her number. Can I remember my calling card number? Not a chance. Solution?

BEG FOR MONEY AT THE NORTHERN. That's right. I had to scam a quarter off a 12-year old in the Northern. How low can you go?

Anyways, I finally got there, had some fan-freakin-tastic cheese pizza... some classic "Beauty and the Geek" and broke out the Wii. I'm no longer a Wii-virgin. And now I want one. Blame Jaime.

Oh, and now I'm not allowed to take the car home for awhile. I think they are worried I might set it off in the middle of the night, and they don't want me to wake them up haha.

To all readers out there.... your help is needed

Hey all,

So as you may or may not have gathered from my whiney posting, my dream puppy was all a scam...

And, as you can imagine, I'm a little annoyed. I was lucky, but I know other people won't be.

Here's what happened. I was looking at ads for dogs online, kijiji.ca etc. and I came across an ad for Maltese pups, from this woman/breeder Stacey Withrow. At first contact, I had done a search for her name as a breeder in Canada, and came up with something, I think I even found a website... so I didn't look much farther. I was satisfied. We were in the process leading towards closing the deal... and I started to get a bit suspicious: her emails never had a sign-off, they weren't very personal, sometimes wouldn't answer my questions.. just sort of avoiding them.

I did a little more digging. But it took the third page of a Google search to turn up this article. I'm going to paste just a bit of it, but the reason I'm writing this post, is that I was hoping you folks might help me out, and just click on the link. I want to get the hit count up on this article, so that it might surface up from the third page on Google to the first. And people won't make the same mistake I almost did.


Here's the link: No dogs, No delivery


Julie Matthews, Global News Edmonton

It was a face Cindy Gallagher couldn't resist. "I looked at the pictures and of course, fell in love with them." A friend sent her an online ad for Maltese puppies. They both decided to get one from Stacey Withrow, who claimed to be the owner of Blue Bridge Kennels in Toronto.

The 9-week-old puppies came with a one-year health guarantee. Cindy was wary of shopping on the web. She was told how much Withrow "never lies to anybody...never lies in her life and why would she take people's hard earned money?"



The following two entries are about me moping.

If you aren't into twenty-something angst, feel free to skip over them.

However, I made the conscious decision to write about the awe-some and not-so-awesome parts of my moving up north.. and everything in-between. And today happens to be one of the less-frequent, not-so-great times.

C'est la vie.

I have, from the beginning, thought of this blog as equal parts a way for friends and family (new and old) to stay in touch/find out what I'm up to... and a memoir/reflection of sorts of my time up north.

And I think that part of looking back on this experience in the years to come is getting a full reflection.

Et voila. You have been warned.

Emo kid

Today was a rough day.

I don't know if it was just the stress over moving, or buying all the same groceries I feel like I've bought a million times before, that I just end up throwing out weeks/months later because I'm picking up and moving AGAIN...

Or that my stupid laundry detergent opened in my suitcase...

Or my body wash exploded in my other suitcase...(So now one smells like tide, and the other like banana coconut)

Or that my little dream puppy was a scam...and I'm a bit heartbroken...

Or that a man tore me apart for "only" having a Canada Goose jacket, saying it wasn't warm enough, and that it will get -80 incl. the wind chill... my dear beautiful jacket that I spent way too much money on...it was like he was telling me to go home, that I wasn't prepared for what was to come, that I wasn't tough enough for it. I didn't even know what to do. I just smiled and fought back tears. Not knowing what to say.

Or that I am so exhausted of moving to a new place and trying to meet new people, make new friends. I've done this too damn much in the past six months. In the past year. It's just too much.

I just want to be surrounded by people who know me, who know I'm a neurotic klutzy freak, who "get me"...

Just for a bit.

Just for a day. Okay? Ok.

It's time for a constant. Something that is comfortable. And I don't even know what that is. I think I just want one of my parents to make me supper. Dad's mac 'n' cheese would be nice. Or just to sit on the couch with mom and watch some crime drama I don't normally follow. Or make icing for one of DD's creations. I just want comfort right now, and that's hard because I feel so lost.

I'm just being a sook, I know it. I haven't even given this place a try, and I will, and I'm sure I'll like it. I'm just exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, transit-ion-ally, pupp-ily.

Anyone know how to play this reaaaally tiny violin?

Moving is hard

So I've arrived, but to little fanfare.

I was sooo ready to arrive, and now that I have, it seems just a tad anti-climatic.

My apartment is HUGE, I will post pictures in due course. It's got more closets then any one person could possibly need.... everywhere I look there are more and more closets. Which is pretty cool. I also have my own personal store room, and deep freeze. Hello buying in bulk!!!!
The only thing is.... I believe it was decorated with a single, 40-year-old cat lady in mind.
Not that there are actually any cat-evidence to be seen... it just fits into my idea of who they decorated for.

Actually that's not fair. It's just not very "me" yet. But I will fix that, I'm determined. I just HAVE to get rid of this pink/purple reeds and lilypads border that snakes its way around my apartment.

Oh, and the mallard-art in my living room.

But I have a sweet sofa and armchair. They are dark maroon, almost brown (I think the colour is called ox-blood?) leather. And they are soooo comfy.

But I don't have cable yet, so they won't be thoroughly enjoyed for awhile.

How does one get cable up north anyways? I tried searching "rankin inlet + cable" into Google to no success. Hints?

I really can't wait for my stuff to arrive. Rumor has it, that should be this week. I've already re-arranged the spare room, and decided it will double as my "office/study" (oo lala)

Not sure what I will do with my dining room table/chairs. The ones that are here kind of go with the other furniture (but then again, they don't really go with "ME" so maybe I'll switch them ujp all the same.

I am currently waiting to figure out if my co-worker is coming to rescue me/take me grocery shopping. I think maybe I got the message mixed up, because I thought she said she was coming to check up on me... but its been a couple hours, and I got the impression she'd be here in like an hour from when I arrived. Meh, I give it another 10 mintues, and I'm going out to the North Mart.

Oh, and Tina, I tried to take a pic of the North Mart in Iqaluit, on my way out, but the pictures suck (I think, I was in a very dirty car at the time...). But "Kate Nova" lives in Iqaluit, and takes GREAT photos. You might want to enlist her help.

Peace out.


Puppy mania

I can't help it. I want one so bad, and who can say no to this face....

Her name is Kiel and I want her very muchly. She is a maltese. They are as hypoallergenic as puppies get.


My name in Inuktitut


Jaaki Saaki

Apparently it rhymes in all languages!


fighting through the fog

As may have been evident from my "the phone music won't turn off" post(ing) I'm feeling a little "cotton-headed" today. Ok, and maybe yesterday too.

Haha, no, I'm not trying to excuse the "dishwasher fiasco 2007" (because I insist I was feeling FINE at the time). I just feel like I'm fighting through some serious brain cotton-candy to actually get anything done.

Maybe I'm just tired... physically tired, and a little bit mentally tired. Stressing over going home for Christmas, and the serious investment that will have to take place in order for that to happen. Tired of living out of a suitcase (as of Sunday, it will have been a month that I've been delicately rotating between three pairs of jeans)... tired of being in transit. I really just want to settle in ... cook myself a real meal, and (gasp!) have a glass of wine. That would just be heaven.

In other news, I now DO know when I'm going to be making the move to Rankin. Rumor has it (according to my station manager) I'll be flying out of here on Monday. My worldly possessions will arrive sometime between Monday and Friday.

Man I can't wait. I (for some odd reason) crave Uncle Ben's rice.

*I feel it's important to note that the only cartoon-y photo (or non-cartoon-y photo) of "brain fog" or "cotton head/brain" I could turn up on a Google search was from a menopausal-symptoms website. Hmmmm.... ye-ah. I think I've got a couple years.

all clear

That was getting a little embarrassing.
I kept pressing buttons and my phone would make loud noises. Loud embarrassing noises.
But it's over now.
Oh little "thatch" button. How I heart you.

three-minute update

I have turned the "radio" on my phone, and I don't know how to turn it off.
The only way I can get it to shut up is to take it off the cradle and put it on "intercom"

Cannibal ravens

An obsolete collective noun for a group of ravens (or at least the Common Raven) is an "unkindness".
- Wikipedia
Somehow, I'm just not surprised. First, based on the stories from Jen and crew re: how ravens will tease puppies mercilessly....

And second, because as I was making my was to work this morning, I saw a raven HAPPILY MUNCHING ON A DISEMBODIED RAVEN LEG.

Initially I was just grossed out by the mini-gory site, but then I realized the bird had both "feet" on the disembodied "leg" and that they were THE EXACT SAME.

I was not impressed.


A surreal experience

So after all my whining yesterday, finally buckling down and doing laundry, and treating myself to a 14-dollar frozen pepperoni pizza...

I had an incredible, unreal, unforgettable experience.

I saw the Northern Lights.

Now, let me set the record straight. The Northern Lights was like THE thing that justified moving up north for me. I don't know why, but it's just... I felt that if something so beautiful could exist up here....I could get along just fine.

After all, when I was five I PLAYED a Northern Light in my ballet class. A beautiful turquoise Northern Light. I rocked.

But ever since I arrived, I either didn't really "get" how I should go about seeing them... or the forecast has been "quiet." I think maybe it just came down to not going outside past 7pm. My loss.

But last night, as Kevin and I were walking across town to Joanne's going away party/potluck, there they were. I was by the CIBC, and I just happened to look out towards the harbour/breakwater, and I saw this little wisp of lighter sky. I thought it was just a cloud at first, and then I realized it had a slightly green tint. And there they were. Not much to brag about at first. Just a fleck in the night sky... but as my excitement grew... as did the light display. Soon they cut across the sky, right above my head, a giant swirl of dancing green atmosphere, marked with flecks of pink.

And did they ever dance. At this point, we were standing on a slatted walkway, and I wanted nothing more than to just lay down on the boardwalk and stare at the sky. I remember one swirl, right above my head, Kevin pointed it out, because at the time I was mesmerized by the sweeping green over the houses in front of me. And it was a tightly knit swirl that looked so much closer than the rest, I felt like if I just had ... a ladder or, if I were standing on a rooftop, maybe I could touch them.

I wonder what it would be like to fly at night. Would you see them? Would it feel like they surround you, or would they feel just even more infuriatingly close but still painfully far away.


Jackie's Angst-giving

I am inexplicably angsty today.

My laptop keyboard is too warm, it is making my hands sweat. My apartment is too dirty, but I don't feel like cleaning it. I don't have any clothes, but washing them feels too much a bother.

Hopefully I will snap out of this asap. Tonight is Joanne's goodbye party/potluck. And then Kevin has promised/made me promise to go to the legion.

I think I'm just a little sad that I'm not home for Thanksgiving. I know I was just home a couple weeks ago, but this is actually the first year ever that I won't be with my family at Thanksgiving. Its not like its a big to-do at my place, but I just, I absolutely love the way my family cooks Thanksgiving dinner.

Enough potatoes to feed and army. A giant turkey, expertly carved by dad, with a bowl of warm cranberry sauce nestled in-between the white and dark meat. The parsnip/carrot mix. Sweet potatoes. Turnips mom's way, with just a dash of brown sugar. Oh god. My grandmother's to-die-for stuffing (that I can't, no matter how hard I try, replicate). And my own personal addition, squash a la Jackie -- usually straight from the garden.

I have to be honest. I love Thanksgiving. Our Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners are basically the exact same, but there seems to be so much more pressure around Christmas. Thanksgiving is more relaxed. And that works for me.

I've been invited by Joanne to a turkey-day potluck on Monday, where there will be probably most of the things I mentioned. But there's something to be said for the anticipation surrounding Nan's stuffing, and knowing exactly what it will taste like when I mash my potatoes and turnips together. It's a comfort thing. And I'll miss it.

Maybe I'll just have to go to Arctic Ventures/the northern and spend a week's per diem on one day's meal. Why not? After all, I DO have a dishwasher (and my parents don't... ah HA! One thing I will not miss this Thanksgiving).


Heh, backstory...

The now infamous dishwasher incident (as my entire work has heard it now haha).

Last night, decided to play Martha Stewart. Get the dishes done, cook a nice supper etc.

Everything goes fine, load the dishwasher, put the soap in, preset it to "extra rinse" (it had been a couple days, definitely needed some pre-soakage).

Sit down to watch The Office... an hour later, wander into my kitchen to see bubbles leaking out of the dishwasher. I go to grab a towel to mop it up, and the dishwasher hits NEW CYCLE and the bubbles start to seep out of the machine at a startling pace... swiftly covering my kitchen floor in a matter of minutes.

I only own two towels, and both put in some serious overtime cleaning up my mess.

I maintain I'm innocent. It's not MY fault Sunlight makes both dish AND laundry detergent.....

One hour = infinite time

I officially have enough time to do the following on my lunch hour:
  • Walk home (and discover a new section - "search" for songs - on my ipod, en route)
  • Prepare and eat lunch.
  • Prepare and eat lunch part 2 (because part 1 just wasn't enough)
  • Sit down and watch the end of kid's Jeopardy.
  • Find out some kid's mother is leaving his father on some soap opera (incidentally, leaving him for a "worse" man)
  • Take a shower (no opportunity this morning what with the alarm-clock-not-going-off fiasco)
  • Discover I don't have any human-sized towels left (thanks to the over-flowing dishwasher fiasco of last night)
  • Dry self off with a tea towel (frustrating)
  • Get changed/grab wallet/leave house
  • Walk back to work (and get converted by the missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.)
Pheuf. I'm tired.


Another question for the northern-ites...

Let's talk internet/cable.

I move to my new apartment in a week or two, so I thought I'd send out the question...

Who do most people use for internet/cable? I know of QINIQ, but are there others?


Wow. A shoe that cures diabetes.

Oh Nike.

Read the release here

em-FA-sis on the wrong syl-A-bles

The hardest thing about being a journalist up north is not butchering Inuktitut.

I don't know what I thought I was getting into when I jokingly agreed with people saying "soon you'll be tri-lingual"... I should have made Spanish or Italian my goal.

Inuktitut is REALLY hard. Really hard to hear... and distinguish between the different words and sounds.

On top of that, I end up putting a French accent on it ... which sounds stupid to me, but my co-worker - who helps me when I have to say Inuk. words on-air, or to other locals - says it's not too bad when I use my French pronunciation...

But he's probably just being nice :P

I think what makes it so difficult, for me especially, is that I don't have any idea what syl-A-bles to em-FA-size... tricky tricky tricky.



So I almost forgot to do my little “first Inuit gathering” recap after Friday’s get-together. The details are a little hazy in my 5-day-old reflection. But the highlights included…

1. Tried caribou and liked it (I can only compare it to duck meets roast beef. And being as I heart both duck AND roast beef, I was thrilled)

2. Tried beluga dish/treat/word-that-starts-with-“m” and didn’t like it. I really did give it an honest go, but I couldn’t chew through it. So I had to swallow it whole. Luckily it was small (think about half as thick as your pinkie finger, and as long as from the tip to the first joint). I’m not swearing it off for good, because everyone at the gathering said it was super tasty, and a treat… so maybe I just had a tough piece. The long and short of it is I will give it another try, and if it’s better ok. If not… well that’s just too bad.

3. Inuit children love me. I think the reason I was invited was so that I would meet other people in the community, but the kids were too much fun. Birthday boy and I played a wicked game of “spy ball” (a ball with Spiderman on it that can get squished into a Frisbee… and every time it became a ball again he would shout “You/I made it SPYBALL!”). Birthday boy’s sister and I blew up approx. a million balloons…. Including a tiny green one that she christened her “lucky pickle” when then promptly got lost.

4. The most interesting thing I saw was when my coworker/the host brought out all the meat from the deepfreeze (frozen caribou, more beluga I think and something else…) and laid a flattened box on the floor, and a whole crew gathered around the frozen meat and sliced at it with these little slicers/machetes. I had seen them before, when some of my co-workers daughters were cutting up pepperoni and that sort of thing, but it was a really interesting sight, to see all these women … literally all ages… from grandmothers to five-year-olds… carving away at frozen meat, gathered on the floor. If I hadn’t been a guest, and was actually attending as a journalist or whatever, I would have stolen Robyn’s crazy camera and taken some fantastic photos. But that would have been rude. And I wouldn’t have been invited back :P


Stilettos and Starbucks

I was reading Jen's post about things she misses from the south, and it really struck a chord with me. I was thinking the exact same thing the other day. Granted I'm far from homesick/southsick yet... I'm still caught up with the wonders of the north (including walking to work in gale-force winds this morning) but I was thinking the two things I would likely miss most were:

  1. Pretty shoes
  2. REAL coffee (and by that I mean any espresso-infused beverage a la Starbucks, Second Cup, Van Houtte... any barrista experience, really)

It's funny though.

I think back to last summer, and how it was a total immersion process, with different foods, different accents (and to an extent) a different language.... and the only things I really pined for were lemonaid and KD.

Here's it's almost like the things I miss ... or anticipate missing... up here are experiences. Not foods. I can still get the same foods I always did. They may not be as fresh, or as flavorful... and you bet they are going to be more expensive... but that's the same. It's the feeling tall in my pretty black shoes... and the velvety taste of an espresso drink as it punches me in the face.

Really, it's not that big of a deal. I can wear my little black shoes around my apartment (so what if my downstairs neighbours hate me?) and I can buy an espresso machine and coffee grinder.

It just strikes me as a little funny... if not ironic... that the two things I miss ... or crave... are two things I picked up last summer, while pining for something else.

Ok, Enough is enough.

Even I know when to set my limits.
I have too many computers.
Way too many.
I'm extremely glad I sent the laptop that doesn't work home with Dad, because otherwise I'd have THREE. Nope, not THREE computers. THREE laptops.

  1. Broken craptacular laptop
  2. Beautiful swanky tablet laptop (that is my baby and which I named Tabitha... haha get it?)
  3. Slightly larger CBC laptop (that I am somewhat annoyed that I have to use, because it is heavier than my baby Tabitha, and why can't I just operate Dalet and Inews off of her?
Then there's...
  1. Tried and true, very reliable, Chester - my desktop that is currently en route to Rankin. Totally worth it. Love that computer
  2. Work computer, yet to name, yet to experience.
How crazy is that. I mean, grah. How can I possibly hope to stay organized when there is so many systems to bounce around between? I guess I'm just annoyed at this whole new laptop thing. I don't regret buying mine, but I do think it's stupid that I have to use theirs. I even tried dropping hints to the tech guy ... in hopes he might say "Hey, you know what, it's pretty stupid to have you work on our laptop when you already have one..." but no dice.

I know I shouldn't be complaining... maybe I'm just entering my minimalist phase. The one where I sigh and go "I have too much STUFF" and purge it all (which is a total lie right now, because I am currently living out of a medium-sized suitcase.... everything else is in possession-purgatory somewhere between Quebec City and Rankin.)


Air Canada bugs me


Ok I'm not impressed with how expensive, and how complicated, it is going to be to get home for Christmas.

I have to deal with two different airlines, I think. And its going to cost me like $2500. Gross gross gross. AND I don't think I can actually get to PEI without wandering through four airports (five, if you count Rankin). AND stay overnight in a hotel somewhere.

I guess that's just the price you pay for living up north. Pun mini-intended.

Other than that... not much to update on. I had all these fantastic plans for the weekend (okay, well maybe just a couple plans... including walking/climbing the mini-mountain I pass on my way to work ... and maybe catching a movie at the cinemas... and of course, heading over to the high-rise area to snag some wireless internet...) but they all crashed and burned because I ended up sick all Sunday. No fun. Oh well, luckily it is still bright in the evenings, and I have at least one or two more weekends before I leave Iqaluit for Rankin. So plenty of time still!!

Also, I'm mini-on-the-hunt for a furry companion... I really really really REALLY want a puppy... I had a lonely weekend what with the being sick and whatnot... and decided I wanted either a puppy...

Or a Wii.

Haha. I'm such a loser.