I'd rather be burlesquing.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

links say what I can't

A catch-up session is long overdue...let's see - what have we been up to?

I escaped to Prague for the weekend, which was spectacular. I quaffed the finest beer I have ever tasted, at the lively U Fleku (that's the beer there, in the picture). I still crave it. Photos are forthcoming. Just you wait.

There's been much buzz over the London Design Festival, so a quick peek was taken on Saturday. There was much oooohing and awwwing over the wonderful Little Errol Dolls from Lucy Jane Batchelor. And of course, Pigeon Light was in attendance. I have to say that I was overjoyed to finally speak with Ed Carpenter in person, and put to rest any fears about Mr. Pigeon not working so well with North American plugs. Oh, little iPod, I'm afraid you may have to wait just a bit longer...

I'm currently a tad obsessed with Bob Dylan, after watching a two-part documentary on the BBC. Although I'm stil not sure what Martin Scorsese's role as 'director' in this film was, it did introduce me to "Dink's Song", which is now my most favorite Dylan song. Ever.

There's been a tiny whisper at work to the tone of Shanny getting a Powerbook...and I'm trying desperately not to get my hopes up, but truth be told they are already sky-high. Here's hoping. I would name it Lionel, I think. Lionel the Powerbook.

And so, with all of that said, I'm off to Nottingham this weekend, to dress in tights and frolick in Sherwood Forest. I'm sure there will be many a tale to tell upon my return...

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Going Public

I've actually been spending a fair chunk of the morning thinking about the below quote and of Shauny's post.

So perhaps it deserves a post of my own...

I've not been at this game long enough to have blogger's depression, nor have I encountered any psychos who have nothing better to do then tell me how much I suck, but my issues do lie within the realm of whether or not to share my words.

I've thought long and hard about who I want to read my blog. Some of my friends know about it, others do not. I have a petite, intimate group of readers who stop by here from time to time, and to be quite honest, I kind of like the atomsphere in here.

Sort of like a quiet martini with friends.

I have no interest in attempting to garner praise for what I do in here. It's just for me. If you like it, ta. If not, suck eggs.

I'm just starting to get the hang of this, and to be honest, was even apprehensive about commenting on other's sites. I've been reading some of my favorite blogs for years, and it wasn't until recently that I stopped being one of those annoyingly voyeuristic stalkers, who takes but doesn't leave anything in return.

I'm still a bit weird about it - every comment that I lay down seems like it's only another trail for people to follow me home with. I haven't even made this blog public on the Blogger site. I want people to find it, but I don't want people to find it.

It's strange.

It's a strange thing to consider. How public to make your life. How much should you go out of your way to seek out like-minded people, and how much should you just wait. Wait and let them seek you out...

I have found great inspiration, comfort and laughter from the blogs that I read. In light of this, I think it's time to start giving something back. So, that being said...let's go public, shall we?

i like the chicken dance

"and always write like we should all dance,
like no one is looking"

Beautiful words found amongst the comments on Shauny's site. By someone who goes by polx. Thanks, polx.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Dorkiness Abounds

Hey hey hey.

I've finally decided to utilise my Flikr account.



Photos-a-plenty. Enjoy.

Maggie, my alter-ego

At the end of this month, I will have officially been working at my current job for a year, Which is quickly making this the longest job I have ever kept.

What can I say, I get bored easily.

I returned to work this morning after a two-week hiatus, in which I did nothing but eat Nibs licorice and drink Great Western beer.

To commemorate my return to work, the following happened to me this morning:

I was handed a package by one of my co-workers (who works down the hall, in the same department as me). I took the package, and quickly realised that it was addressed to someone named 'Maggie'. I am not Maggie. I have never been a 'Maggie'. I have worked with this person for a year. Throughout the course of this year, I have been in the same office, sitting at the same desk, staring at the same computer.

I looked at him suspiciously - things happen while you are on vacation - perhaps they have replaced me? Or hired an assistant? I finally gave in and said "I'm not Maggie. I'm Shannon", as I handed back the package.

Nothing.

Blank stare.

Finally, after a few precious moments of awkward silence, he exclaimed "Oh! You're not Maggie!". And we both chuckled heartily at the mistake.

Apparently, I'm not quite as integral to the running of my department as I had once thought.

Ah, the joy of being a temporary employee...

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

to satiate your voyeuristic side

Happy Anniversary

One year ago today, I left Canadia behind and boarded a London-bound plane.

Happy anniversary to me.

Funny, that on my one-year anniversary I should find myself back where I started. Or perhaps, in some way it's completely perfect.

I think there is a common misconception about travel. Some of us dream of far-off places, and of how these distant lands will enrich us - body mind and spirit. We forget that sometimes, things really do look better from far away. That sounds depressing, but the truth is, travel won't change who you are. It only changes your perspective. Spins you around a bit, turns your world upside down, but at some point, you always end up where you started.

And that's the beauty of it.

When I headed off to London in search of beer and Belle & Sebastien concerts, I had a plan in mind. I was going to leave my life behind, start anew, and finally take advantage of whatever the world had waiting for me. In retrospect, my plan did not include the 6 months it took me to get a bank account. It did not include the month spent worrying about whether or not I would find a job. It did not include the harsh reality that wherever you go, it's not the weather, but rather yourself, that you take with you.

I have met many people that hate London. Despise it. People who can talk nothing but of how great they had it back home. These people move on, and never really see the beauty in it all. I admit, she is a tempermental beast, and sometimes you do stand screaming in the middle of traffic because it was just so easy to get a decent coffee back home. But to these people, honestly, I really don't have much to say.

London has given me many gifts, but none of them were anticipated. I have been granted the opportunity to work with one of the world's most respected art collections, I have had the opportunity to stregthen a 22-year old friendship, and I have had the opportunity to meet someone who is incredibly dear & important to me. I have learned the beauty of small gifts. Of having people to count on when you do stupid things like cancel your bank acccount. Because, guess what? Just as you suspected, you're a bit of a freak.

Travel is as much about getting to know the world as it is about getting to know where you fit into it. Sometimes, we just aren't cut out for a jet-setting lifestyle that takes us to the edge of every ocean, tasting the salt in the air along the way. I have come to appreciate the simplicity of my life here in Canada. The fact that we have so much space. So much blue sky. The fact that Canadians truly are just so damn nice. We have a beautiful secret out here. Have you ever danced with the Northern Lights?

I am always charmed in the least likely places.

I head back to London on Thursday morning, and I do look forward to going back. I wouldn't take back the opportunities that lie ahead for any price. London may not be home; I may not dream of settling down and raising a family there (do I dream of that at all?), but being there has changed the way I see here.

And that makes it all so very worthwhile.