This week I received many bits and bytes from the outside world. They are like an invisible string tying me to my real life. Funny, I used that expression ‘real life’ today with my new friend Diana, who, being an outsider like me, said that that’s what she calls it too. Her real life. Her life prior to her arrival in Hay River. I think the reason I find the expression odd when applied to my life is that it gives the illusion that I had a normal life in a regular place prior to here. That this is a one-time anomaly amidst an otherwise regular existence. When in real life, my ‘real life’ is scattered and polydirectional…Winnipeg, Abbotsford, Chilliwack (peppered here and there with Princeton)…. francophilism, acting, camp, photography, outdoor rec, teaching, lighting design, directing, percussion. My ‘real life’ is a myth. But I’ll keep using the expression, because somehow it still gets the point across that I’m a temp.
Back on track. Invisible strings.
This week’s invisible strings were manifold: a surprise package from Kerianne with Jelly Bellies, jewelry, and a book to inspire me (which I’ll get into another time); a package from Katie with more jewels, yarns, Gilbert, and Mo (which I’ll also get into another time); Genevan dark chocolate from world traveling big-wig-hot-shot researcher Christen; phone calls from Karla, Danielle, Carol, Rona, and my mom; and some skype chats with Abbey, Jenny, and Lowana. I can’t tell if it makes me more or less wistful for my real life. Less because people seem so close, so tangible when I can chat on facebook or talk on the phone every week or skype and actually see someone in the flesh, in the moment….but More because I are reminded of what is going on in my real life and I wish I could take part. It’s a good dissonance. Reminds me that I’m alive. It feels good to feel, even if it’s just confusion.
I committed in last week’s blog to looking towards Germany this week for my business. That was the first mistake, as we all know the Germans like their whites. As I made the approach to the German border, I scanned the line of soldiers to see if I could make out any reds. All I saw was a row of whites, an Aryan nation, as I suspected I might. But lo! A red disguised in blue called out to me from the ranks, stepped out of line and said “take me! I’m ze #1 red in alt of Gehmany!”. I coldly replied “You’re the only red in all of Germany. Don’t flatter yourself”. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and whispered menacingly in his ear that his time had come. “Time to check out”, I said. To the stern colonel awaiting his departure I said, “bag ‘im”, and with that, the two of us, myself and the red soldier, marched solemnly toward his judgment. Luck was not in the soldier’s cards that day. Later, when I asked the soldier his name he sweetly…oh, so sweetly… replied: “My name is Zenzen, Dr.Vino Zenzen.” I had what I needed to warn the world about this imposter. Now I know….never give your heart to a red German in blue.
Dr Zenzen, Vino Noir. Touted the #1 red wine in Germany. What an insult to #2.
Ok, ok, a little harsh. For those of you that follow my wine log, this week’s wine was (obviously) a disappointment. But only because it was waaaaay too sweet. I would not recommend this wine to anyone who likes wines on the drier side…but it would make a great sangria base, or I’m sure it would be awesome mulled for Christmastime…
Today some of us girls went on a little trek, snowshoeing a trail just outside of Hay River. We were going to go to a friend’s cabin, but we were running out of daylight hours and decided to maximize by staying closer by. It was nice to be surrounded by friends, a random conglomerate of people that we pulled together. Here are some highlights:
a jay of sorts.
yet another classy self portrait.
meaghan hamming it up in her pamper snowpants.
Rosie, the most stylish gal out on the snowpath.
We had a spontaneous potluck afterwards, and talked about things. It was really nice.