The Arrival

This is old news for some of you and belated news for the rest, but it's official:

I am a grown up.

That is, if growing up is defined by having a career-like job and health benefits, which is how I define it.

For the discretion of my employers, I am not going to name them here, but know the most important thing: I'm really happy working there.

When my sister Janine began her post-education job, she talked a lot about knowing you've arrived. Over the past month that I've been on practicum with the same company I now work for, and over the past three days I've officially worked there, I've been thinking a lot about the same thing. Here are a few of my little arrival moments, or more accurately, things that make me feel excited for the phase of my life I'm entering:

-I have my own cubicle, complete with filing cabinet, direct phone line, and partition wall that lawyers come and lean against when they have something new for me to do. I always get excited when I get to spin around on my chair from my computer to grab something from my filing cabinet.

-I am on a high floor of a tall building downtown, surrounded by other tall buildings. It has always been a childhood of mine to work on a top floor of a tall building. Every time I go into one of my boss's offices and see how high we are, I get excited, and a little thrill goes through me whenever I get in the elevator in the morning and hit the button for the top floor.

-my work e-mail has a signature attached with the company logo. Do not ask me why I find this exciting. I don't understand it either.

And the best part of life right now:

After three years of university wondering what I really wanted to do with my life, one year of business college where I literally had to drag myself out of bed and wondered on a daily basis why on earth I was putting myself through the grief of a school I didn't like, I've figured it out, and I love my job.

The other day I woke up and a thought occurred to me: I didn't mind getting up in the morning anymore. Once I got over the natural human battle of man over mattress, I was cheerful. I never thought I couldn't bear to go into work, I never think during the day that the week just needs to be over cause I can't stand for it to carry on. I like what I do. It's been years since I've been truly happy and certain about what I'm doing in my life. I'd forgotten how good it feels.

In a way, it still intrigues me. I started adulthood with dreams of changing the world by writing about it and working towards becoming a lifestyle columnist. Now I've found bliss as a legal assistant.

Sometimes, happiness is found by working your tail off to achieve a desired result. Other times, it's stumbled upon. My life seems to like the latter.

Allow Me to Introduce Myself. My Name is Cheesehead, and I am Adorable!

Have you ever been around a toddler who is just learning to say more words besides Mommy and Daddy? That is Edward right now. Quite often he will look at me, grab something, and name it with this self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Water!" he states as he holds out his cup for more.

"Sword! he cries as he runs toward me grinning with weapon raised.

"Door!" he declares as he runs ahead of me into my room and slams it in my face. His sweet little voice always keep me entertained.

Last night, Jaima went out for dessert with a friend and I watched the kidlets. Edward declared to me that he needed a snack. I gave him a slice of cheese. Immensely pleased with himself, Edward proceeded to run around the house repeating to himself:

"Cheese!"

As he munched his snack, he started exploring other words. Placing a hand on his head, he told me, "Head!" Then he returned to his favourite snackfood:

"Cheese!"

With a grin that lets me know Edward knows how brilliant he is, he placed his cheese on his head and declared:

"Cheesehead!"

Isn't he adorable? Edward was so pleased with himself he stayed put while I took multiple pictures, and then was pleased to scan through my phone looking at the pictures, occasionally looking up at me, pleased and (pointing to himself) said his new favourite word;

"Cheesehead!"

I love my little Cheesehead.

Man Class Reading Materials

Last night I babysat my two-year old nephew while his family went to watch the Canada Day fireworks. Edward was asleep the entire time, so I took the opportunity to sit within earshot and pull out my laptop to get my writing done.

Do you know how much research is required to write a piece of fiction? It surprised me when I first started writing. For each chapter I write, I usually have a list of five or six things I need to research so I make sure they sound authentic. Multiple that by 26 chapters or so and I spend half my writing time researching. This is fine when I make the research list ahead of time, go to the library and have all my research ready to go, but more often than not, I start writing and then realize I need the background to make the details seem realistic, and do a hasty Google search for the info so I cab get what I need quick and keep going.

Last night, the topic I needed was building a fire. I have built many fires in my life, as recently as last weekend, so I am pretty well versed in fire building tactics. I wrote away happily, adding all the details of fire-making (and the frustrations it always includes) to make my scene realistic and compelling. Then my characters needed to start the flame and it occurred to me:

"Wait a minute. They don't have matches. How do you light a fire without matches?"

I hastily open my internet browser and typed "How to light a fire without matches" into Google. This was the top hit:

The Art of Manliness

Given my previous post and the fact I am always fascinated with how guys acquire their mad man skills, I had to laugh out loud. After contemplating and researching the concept of the secret man class for seven months, I had inadvertently stumbled across their curriculum!

Take a look around the website, it's pretty entertaining and surprisingly educational. Not only did I learn how to start a fire with friction, I learned the art of opening a door for a woman, how to properly iron a dress shirt, and how to shoot a rifle.

For further reading on my favourite funny research project, check out the following pages on the Art of Manliness: How to Make Your Own Manly Bar of Soap; How to Bowl a Strike; How to Hail a Taxi Cab . . . Like a Man!; 22 Manly Ways to Reuse an Altoids Tin; How to Take Care of a Pregnant Wife.

So Long! And Thanks for All the Fish!

This post seems long overdue, but for those who didn't already know through family grapevines, new and exciting things have been going on in my world. Firstly, after 60 weeks of counting down, I am done classes forever! Or at least until I have a midlife crisis and go back to school, but for now, formal education is done.

Secondly, and most significantly, I moved! Again! This has been my third move this year and tragically will not be my last, but it is still exciting because I changed cities. A whole three hours away from home too. I live in Edmonton, and have for the past two weeks! I am here doing my practicum and the plan is just to stick around after and find a job here.

My departure was bittersweet and slightly surreal. I admit, even now I sometimes forget I don't live in Calgary. There are many things I miss, but many more I look forward to. In commemoration of my time spent in Cowtown (also known as my entire life minus the past two weeks) here is just a sampling of the things I love and miss about my hometown:

-my library! Yes, obviously they have one of those here, but my library was always Nose Hill. It's where I grew up going. It's where I learned to love books. Plus I don't have a library card here and I'm feeling deprived.

-my regular jaunts around the Bow River, and the Bow in general. Did you know the North Saskatchewan River is actually a disgusting body of water? The Bow is beautiful and clean.

-playing ultimate in Bowness Park. One of my favourite things to do in the summer.

-Shakespeare in the Park. I was religious about going to this every summer, usually to all the shows and sometimes to the same one more than once. It's outside, it's Shakespeare, and you can bring a picnic. What more do you want?

-My places to eat. Spicy Hut, Diner Deluxe, Tandoori Hut, Sate Sub and Thai Boat. Also, other special little places like I Appeal. I miss my niche.

-Going for downtown lunches with Neen! My sister e-mailed me the other day to inform me she was going to Sunterra for lunch, our favourite place to meet up and grab a salad. I had done the same thing the day before at the Sunterra here, and we both mourned the loss of a tradition we now have to live alone.

-Knowing how to get places. I can drive to work, and home again. I consider it a major accomplishment when I can get there without taking a single wrong turn. I miss knowing where I am going.

-my institute teachers. They were all fantastic.

-my ward! I was in Foothills Ward for four years. My last Sunday there felt so strange and people kept hugging me. I was devastated and exhilarated all at the same time.

And most of all:

-my people! Family, friends, inside jokes. I miss Leah saying she's just peachy every time I ask how she is and then I say I'm splenda. I miss random dance parties with Colleen, or outings with Neen where I convince her to drive me places, I miss Lou and her magical brownies, I miss being weirded out by my brother as he races into the ravine dressed as a ninja. I miss my people niche.

And yet, don't feel blue, because life is fantastic! It has been only two weeks and I still don't have my feet on the ground, but here is what I love about Edmonton so far:

-living with the Fixsens. Being witness to brilliant moments in their kid's childhoods like the brilliant dinner conversation Jaima mentioned.

-my job. I love my job. Suddenly, all the tearing of hair and frustrations of school seem like not such a big deal.

-exploring a new city. I have the opportunity to find new places: new things to do every summer, new places to eat and shop, new places to go for walks and play ultimate, new people to meet and have inside jokes with. I get to create a whole new niche!

And something else truly terrific:

-I now live in the same city as the hat store.

So, so long Calgary! It's been fun, but I have found somebody else. But thanks for all the fish!

Secret Man Classes

Last November, I went to Preference (the church dance where girls ask guys). The night of the dance was cold, icy, and very snowy, so it should come as no surprise that when I went to pick up my date, my car got stuck in the snow outside his house.

Without missing a beat, he jumped out of the car and told me he would push me out. He then proceeded to lean against the right side of my car just in front of the passenger side door and push from the side. I was so surprised I just stared at him for a moment before I remembered I was supposed to be driving the car out of the pile of snow. His bizarre technique worked like a charm.

When he got back in the car, I asked him how he'd known to push from the side. After all, if it had been me I would have pushed from the back, the front, and than the back again before maybe guessing to push from somewhere else. He didn't even have to look at my car to know where to push. What was his secret?

Sadly, he could offer no explanation. At least not one that I could follow. He merely shrugged and said he'd done this a lot. Well so have I! I live in Calgary, have been driving in snow as long as I have been driving, and get stuck on a routine basis. How had I not acquired his mad skills? I was more than a little jealous.

A few months passed, and I didn't think much of it. Then one evening in January, Janine's car got stuck in front of our house, sticking out into the road. She called me out from the house to help her push it. We pushed that car away from the curb from all possible angles on the hood, but it wouldn't budge from that one little icy patch it had created. We then decided to take the wisest course of action; we called Neen's fiance and asked him to come over and fix it.

No sooner had Ben arrived than he nonchalantly walked up to the car, pushed it from the back over the curb and out of the tricky spot. WHAT?! How did he know that? Again, didn't even look at it.

It was then that I realized what was going on. Both Ben and my date had acquired the same skill that neither my sister nor I could achieve. This must be a lesson from secret man classes!

For those of you who aren't in the know, secret man class is where guys go to learn those skills we assume are so easily acquired by the male population such as pushing cars out of snow, matching the correct nuts and bolts together without having to dig through every drawer and try every one, and how to cook meat with fire.

There are also of course, secret women classes. Here we learn how to tell the difference between chartreuse and emerald green, how to tell what fruit is good quality at the grocery store, and how to tell precisely how many more bay leaves are needed to make a pot of stew taste just right.

In my research on these two under the table institutions, I have begun to accumulate a thesis on their possible curriculums. So my question to the blogosphere is:

What skills come naturally to you from secret man/woman classes? What have you noticed your spouse it naturally good at that you simply cannot fathom?

Perhaps one day I will understand this phenomenon, but in the mean time, I will just collect stories, call my brother-in-law when my car is stuck, and advise guy friends on which are the good oranges to buy at Superstore.

Something to Giggle About

This past school year, I've been teaching Relief Society in my ward. Out of all the church callings I have ever had, it has been my favourite. There have been difficult lessons, awkward pauses where I suspect even if I did a tap dance people would still stare at me with the same dazed expression, and tricky topics; like when I had to teach my peers about drug addictions. However, none of my experiences relate to what happened to a friend of mine today.

Whenever there is a fifth Sunday in the month, we have a combined meeting of our Relief Society and Elders Quorum (ie - rather than split up for that one lesson block, the guys and girls are in the same lesson). Usually this is a chance for our bishop to teach us whatever he thinks we need to hear most that month. Today was a fifth Sunday.

Apparently, the bishopric forgot what Sunday it was, and so they assigned my friend Mike (who just moved into the ward last week) to teach the next lesson in the Gospel Principles manual same as usual. Upon arrival at church, the bishopric sees women filing into the Elders Quorum room, and suddenly remembers how many Sundays have already happened in the month of May. They pull Mike aside and tell him that he will not just be teaching the guys. The girls will be tagging along as well. What is Mike's lesson again? Oh yes. The Law of Chastity.

Welcome to the Ward, Mike! Sundays are always filled with lessons, inspiration, and moments of gratitude. Today I simply marveled at our way of welcoming the new guy, and profoundly gave thanks that I have never had to teach the most uncomfortable lesson in the book to a crowd of mixed gender twenty-something year olds of whom I know maybe a handful.

And for the record, once he stopped staring at the bishop in horror, Mike did an excellent job.

New Methods of Feeling Fabulous

When Prince William and Kate Middleton announced their engagement, I like everyone else, glanced over the articles and promotional photos in the grocery store checkout. When Janine brought home MacLean's commemorative issue, I poured over it. Studying the pictures, the stories and the wedding plans, there was one thing that Kate Middleton had that I really wanted.


Her hat. Every time I saw those photos of William and Kate walking along in that blue dress, I looked at that hat and sighed with envy. Man I wish I had a hat like that. It would define my wardrobe.

In contemplation of our future monarch's coming nuptuals, my friend Leah and I decided we needed to celebrate. We determined the best way to do this would be to PVR the wedding so we didn't have to have our party at three in the morning, invite all our girlfriends over, drink tea, and eat cucumber sandwiches. Dressing up was mandatory. Hats were recommended.

My dad of course told me it was a silly purchase, but I saw this as a perfect excuse to make one of my silly dreams come true. I remembered a store I'd visited in Edmonton called Head Case. It sells practical hats like toques, berets and cowboy hats, as well as an array of classy society hats. I have been eyeing those hats for years wishing I could justify buying one, but I could never think of anywhere to wear it. Leah's tea party gave be a perfect excuse.

On a recent day trip to Edmonton, I stopped by Head Case with my sister Katey. It didn't take us long to find it. It was exactly what I wanted. I hadn't got far out of the store before I started to doubt my purchase. Had I just spent money on something I only had an excuse to wear once? Was this going to be one of those purchases I regretted making because it took up space in my closet and moved with me from home to home until I started to hate it and threw it out? Suddenly I felt incredibly silly.


It's on shopping trips like this that you need a sister or friend along to keep you in the right frame of mind. Katey asked me three questions:

1. Did I love it?
2. Did it make me feel pretty?
3. Had I made any indulgent purchases recently?

If my answers were yes, yes and no, I had nothing to worry about. By the time I was showing off my hat to my mom, I felt great again. Surely I could think of places to wear it other than Leah's tea party. I just had to have the confidence to pull it off.

The tea party was fantastic. Leah went all out, watching the wedding was fun, and I looked fabulous in my hat. The next day at church, we were all talking about how fun it had been and how much we had loved the excuse to wear a fabulous hat. We all agreed it was a shame people never wear hats in our society. Wanting to rectify the situation, we came to an agreement; the next time our ward had a lunch after church, we would all wear hats.

That day in sacrament meeting, our bishop announced the next Linger Longer would be the following week. We spread the word and gathered all the hats we had. The next Sunday, half the Foothills Relief Society was wearing hats. Most of us were too excited to wear them to wait till after our meetings. After some debate, we determined the correct etiquette allowed women to wear hats in church, and seeing our bishop had no objections, we wore them all through our meetings; sitting in the back row so we didn't block anyone's view. Did we get startled looks? Yes. Did the people in the other ward wonder aloud what was with the hats every time we passed them? Yes. Did everyone eventually smile and tell us we had some great hats? Absolutely.

We ran around all Sunday feeling fabulous in our hats. Every Linger Longer Sunday has now been declared Hat Sunday. The Foothills Relief Society is bringing hats back in style!