Jam Woes...and some Deep Thinking

I made two batches of jam over the past two days, and neither of them turned out quite the way I wanted. I overcooked one, and wound up with three jars of rock-solid blackberry sludge, and I miscalculated the sugar and undercooked the second, leaving me with seven jars of what will be the most delicious pancake/french toast/sundae sauce. The blackberry sludge appears to be salvageable, with time and patience, and I've already consumed 1/4 of a jar of strawberry sauce.*

As I said to H, I just hate not being instantly good at something. She pointed out that not being instantly good at canning was inherently different from not being instantly good at sky-diving, we all had a good laugh, and then I went back to what I do best - lazing around the house, not putting clean laundry away, and being the indentured servant of the fuzzy mens.

I've been thinking a lot about journeys lately. There's a part of me that wants to take off for a while - head out on the road and see what happens. (That is the part of me that doesn't remember that we just drove to Whitehorse and back on Friday/Saturday and that our legs are still cramping.) I'm afraid if I don't listen to that part of me now, though, that it's going to manifest itself much more loudly in a few months, and I'll do something without planning to do it.***

Anyway, to get back to the original point, I still have a few batches of jam I intend to try - I will keep you updated. Once my fingers have stopped feeling scorched.****


*Seriously, I may be going into a sugar coma. If I'm not at work tomorrow, please send help - preferably in the form of those two guys from Haven**
**Seriously, how have I missed out on that show? It's like my perfect blend of procedural cop show, paranormal show, and Maine (the creepiest of all states).
***See: How I moved to Japan, and also: How I moved to the Yukon.
****Unrelated to anything - some times, the cats will look at me without blinking, with these strange looks on their cat-faces, and I fear that they are plotting the best way to kill and eat me. Just FYI, in case anything happens.

The way to start your morning

I know that guy wasn't swearing at me, he was swearing about someone else when he was talking to me, but come on. That is so not the way I want to start my morning. I already had to use the scraper on my windshield. Don't get me down any further, bro.

I spent an hour and a half on eHarmony last night (warning: yes, I am on eHarmony) going through matches and sending messages. You see, they send between 2 and 5 new matches per day, and I fall behind because I am phenomenally indecisive and can't decide who to send messages to and who to archive. When I sat down to it at 9:30, I had 67 matches in my New folder.

They weren't all new, per se, but they were not-dealt-with-at-the-time. SO I went through and archived those who needed archiving (as in, I really wasn't feeling it right off the bat for some reason, but didn't feel I actually needed to close them) and sent messages to the rest.

I'm exhausted from the effort of clicking mouse buttons.

What's really stupid about the whole thing is that I'm not sure I want it to work out. There's a part of me that doesn't want to be doing the pursuing. There's a part of me that doesn't want to start a long-distance relationship with a guy in some faraway place.

I want someone right here and now, who sees me for who I am and who wants me like crazy. I want love to trip and fall in front of me, to come over to my house to watch DVDs and talk about his day. I'm tired of being told it will happen "when I least expect it" or "when you aren't looking for it." It's gotten to the point where I don't know if I even believe in it.

Sigh.

I didn't have breakfast this morning, and it's left me a little cranky. Now I will add coffee to the mix and see what happens.

Storytime

I'm back again. I took a little time off from blogging...mostly because I was approaching my 100th post, and I wanted it to be something meaningful. But it's hard to squeeze meaning out of hot dog lunches and looking after a friend's cats.

This past week was kind of rough, work-wise and personally. I can't talk about the work stuff (more's the pity, although I really don't need to keep hashing it over, so I guess it's more of a blessing), but the personal stuff...Yeesh.

Here goes...

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to be an actress. She studied drama all through high school, and refused to even consider any other career. After high school, she auditioned for a couple of theatrical courses at a variety of colleges, and ended up in the Nation's Capital.

When she was there, she met a guy. He was older than she by a year, and he was the most interesting guy she had ever met. He lived one floor down in the same apartment building, and they hung out a lot. She was really, really into him. And although she longed to tell him, she was shy and hoped he would figure it out.

Unfortunately, he was really, really into a girl he had known for years, and so nothing really came of the infatuation. Our heroine, though, had suffered a tragedy - she now compared every man she met to the guy from college.

This had a negative impact on her relationship life. A few years later, she dated a guy for a few months, but after they broke up (because he was in love with a girl he had known for years) she never dated again. Not that she didn't want to, but circumstances just didn't work in her favour.

Flash forward to Monday, July 5th.

Our heroine was watching a great Canadian comedy show, and who should she spot as an extra in most of the scenes but the guy from college. In addition to all her "oh, why didn't I tell him how I felt" angst, there was a great big dollop of "why was I such a coward that I let people talk me out of following my dream?" woe. That was enough to cue a low-level funk.

Work interefered with her attempts to feel better. And then, on Facebook, she saw photos of the guy from college with his girlfriend...and her pregnant belly. They, naturally, were thrilled about their soon-to-be-born progeny. And our heroine felt sad, because she was alone and had two incredibly noisy cats instead of babies. She felt bad because her first reaction to their happy news had been to be miserable. She was happy for them - she was just a lot more unhappy for herself, because it felt like her life was going downhill.

So, Friday, after a shitty week, she went to a neighbour's house for coffee, and after that she came home to drink vodka coolers and eat shrimp noodles. And she feels a bit better for having shared her tale with the Internet. Where anyone and everyone can read it. Because, honestly, her life isn't over just because she isn't doing what she originally planned. It's just different.

In the words of Marcus Aurelius, "Everything that happens happens as it should, and if you observe carefully, you will find this to be so." You just have to get over the feeling sad part.

Happy 100th Post!

I swear to God, Nature...

If you don't start showing me wildlife, we are going to have to renegotiate this deal.

Heather emailed me this morning, offering to take me on a tour of some of the nature spots that I have yet to explore around Faro. I haven't really done much exploring. At first, it was because I didn't have a vehicle of my own to explore in, and later it was because I am always so tired after work and would much rather curl up on my couch with plate of shrimp and watch DVDs. I know, I know.

But at any rate, I said sure, and (after our afternoon meeting) off we went. We drove up to the Fingers Site (no, I don't know why it's called that and no, I didn't ask) to see if we could spot some sheep. The festival is just around the corner, and it might be nice for me to see one before the tourists get here. Alas, no sheep were making merry on the mountain.

Someone had been, though - we stepped over a used condom. Who has sex at a sheep viewing platform? I made a mental note not to get roped into going up to the site on Sunday for the big Clean Up...no sirree, I will be busy in town where we only have to deal with empty aerosol containers in the gazebo.

At any rate, we drove up to the Mine, so I could see the pools of toxic sludge and shiver at the ominous look of the mine complex. Interestingly (to me, anyway), the sludge in the lagoons is the same colour as the dirt my boss imported to lay out at the kindergarten in Japan...coincidence? There were no animals around the mine, but I hardly blame them for that.

Then it was off to the cabin at Mt. Mye. I was getting a bit tired by then (our jaunt up the mountain to the mine wound up taking an hour and change), but really hoped my wildlife-luck would change. Plus, I didn't want to seem like a jerk when Heather had made such a kind offer. We chatted, and I was really sure I would see a sheep.

But I didn't. Mt. Mye was bare. Now I was chilly and disappointed. But we kept driving, down the Blind Creek Road toward Lynx Track Farm. We saw some moose tracks, and Heather stopped the car to show me wolf poo (complete with moose hairs!), and we stopped at the end of the road to take in the Pelly River. Then we turned around to go back.

I did see one thing on our journey back - a male grouse, standing in the middle of the road, staring at the bushes. The car didn't bother him - he was fixated on whatever lady-grouse was in those bushes. It is spring, after all - the sexiest time of year.

By the time I got home, it was 7:30 and I was two hours late for my supper. It's a good thing the days are so long now - it was still bright when I had my rice and shrimp dinner ^_^

And now to bed, I think. Not to sleep, but to imagine all the wild things that lurk in the bushes, ignoring me.