Today I walked by a very stylin' guy. Shaggy red hair, skinny turquoise pants and orange shoes. He dropped something before we passed and the other guy behind him picked it up and ran over to return it. Then I passed him and saw a folded $10 bill on the ground. Assuming it was his I yelled out and he came over to get it. He said that he was glad there were honest people in the city.

People, loosing money from your pockets is a risk you take when your pants are too tight.

Well, I felt glad that he got all his money back.

And I'm glad that there are honest people in the city too.

I've decided that since this day will never happen again, maybe I could write about it...so here goes...


I unhappily trudged my way through slush and snow banks to make it to work on time. It was a busy day at the restaurant which is great but I got cranky because the cash register wasn't working and the till had no change in it save for a few dimes. It's not ideal to have to pull your own wallet out to make change while a customer patiently waits.

After work I went to anthropologie and bought 4 bright coloured bowls on sale for $1.95 each (!!) and had chest pains at all the purrty dresses and earrings I want so bad. I wondered if I were really rich, would it be fulfilling to buy everything I wanted and spend every moment wearing awesome dresses. I decided I was happier pining after them and once in a while scoring a great find on sale. I am pleased with my mature take on this. It won't last long.

Later for dinner I went to my sisters and we made tacos. We were happy to discover that hard shell tacos have evolved and stand on their own with their new flattened bottom. It's about time.

I bought wool and started a baby blanket for an expecting friend. Light grey was the best non-gender colour I could find.

I watched this video and I think I love it.

10 years ago on a European backpacking trip I fell in love with mountains. On someone else's advice, I arrived in a tiny village in the Swiss mountains after dark at a charming hostel. Right away I made friends and we had wine (at high altitudes), sing alongs and bonding conversations. An epic night, but in the morning the weather was rainy and being so high, we were surrounded by clouds. I had no idea what anything more than 10 feet from me looked like so I was awe struck when the sky clearing revealed giant mountain peaks right above and around me. I had never seen anything so enormous and breathtaking and beautiful in my life. They were so overwhelming and magnificent...as mountains are, yet I have never been anywhere close to a mountain before, and here I was for the first time, with them right there in front of me...beside me, above me...everywhere!

Me and my new best friends wasted no time and got hiking. We came across waterfalls, glaciers, many cows, and the typical 'ricola' commercial scene of steep green slopes peppered with purple and yellow flowers.

Sometimes we hiked in silence, sometimes we sang top pop 80's tunes and sometimes we listened to the jangle of cow bells from the distant hills.

The hills are alive with the sound of music.

Summiting a mountain is hard work...tires muscles, accelerated heartbeat , dirt caked under my fingernails, but at the top I felt pure joy...bliss.

On one such hike my friends and I took along lunch and it was the best tuna sandwich I ever had. For dessert we had this incredible white chocolate filled with a creamy center. It took me a while to realize that it wasn't a hard-to-find specialty Swiss chocolate, but a very available lindt lindor.

I spent a week there in Gimmelwald and it was close to being the best time of my life.

Just recently I found some of the lindt lindor chocolate at my grocery store and I involuntarily sighed a breath of relief, as in 'phew, thank goodness I found this, my life can be complete again'. Really it's that good, and it brings for me the added sway of nostalgia.

*the photo was taken in Queenstown, New Zealand.

A few weeks ago, for one of the first times in my life I really felt as if my life were moving forward. I felt the motion of being on a forward path. Feeling stuck or lost is familiar to me. Here I was actually moving and it was wonderful. Exciting. But there was another part of me that shouted, 'whoa, slow down a sec', like when you're on a swing and find yourself too high and you think 'mistake!! slow down! My stomach's flipping over!' I got frightened by the newness and needed to take it down a notch, dig my heels in the gravel.
I saw this tree and felt a kinship with the leaves still clinging on. 'That's right', I thought, 'don't let go...change is bad'.

I usually fear change, even when it's for the good. Guilty.
After my panic I giggled at my silliness and realized I need to just look at these fears, let them be, and continue going forward. It takes time.
Sometimes I just need a quick reassuring pat in the right direction.

This video is sweet, and helps.

Look at that...change is good!

I LOVE Ray William Johnson. And I LOVE/adore/live for musicals, so it comes to no surprise that this rocks...

into the woods

I went on an autumn hike through the woods and pretended I wasn't a big loud clumsy human, yet a limber soft trodden doe. It was fun.

There was lots of greens, browns and smatterings of red, yellow and orange.

Along the path I saw something bright orange growing on a tree. Initially spotting it in the distance I couldn't imagine what it was and still can't quite believe it.

Giant vibrant orange mushrooms. Growing vertically along the bark like stacked pancakes. They look like they belong in the sea. When I look at the photos now they make me think of Spain.

I do not know why.

I sat under a huge beautiful tree and every once in a while heard what sounded like a door creaking closed. I looked up and wondered if the tree was creaking in the wind but upon hearing it again I got the feeling it was a bird. I told my friend who tried to be enthusiastic on my behalf but when I dragged her to the tree and she heard for herself she said...'oh, I didn't really believe you!' (I did a google search and found many 'creaking door' sounding birds but none that I can confidently commit to.)

An adventure to say the least.

I can be quite sentimental and I keep things forever and have a really hard time letting things go. So after recently breaking up with the gentleman I've been spending my time with over the past few months, I found myself wanting to choose one of the things he had left behind as a small token before returning the rest.

I had:

a pair of his tighty whitey undies

his 'planet earth' season one dvd

a toothbrush

an old dishcloth from his ma which we had taken on our canoe camping trip

So, the dvd didn't even play in my dvd player as it was a uk version and I wasn't interested in it anyhow. If I'm going to keep something to remember someone by, it won't be something as generic as a television series.

Moving on to the underwear...I remember how exciting it was finding his underwear hiding under my pillow or in other areas around my bed when we first started spending time together. I would do the laundry and he'd be so surprised when I presented him with freshly folded pairs of his underwear...'how did I manage to leave so many of these here?' he'd always wonder. But keeping his undies would present an awkward issue the next time I'm in a relationship. I wouldn't want my future man wondering what the eff I'm doing keeping some dudes fruit of the looms around for.

Which leaves us to the toothbrush. I actually kept my boyfriend befores' toothbrush in the holder for months after we ended things, not able to bring myself to toss it. I think keeping his toothbrush was a sign of denial, not wanting it to be over and having hope that things could reignite. With this man things are over though and what better way to send that message than returning a toothbrush.

So I found myself very much wanting to keep this old, ratty, frayed, faded dishtowel. It's a hand-me-down from his Mother when he moved into his own place. It was the perfect one to bring on our camping trip since it was already so disheveled. But I really liked the homey feel of it and how it used to be used in the house he grew up in by him and his family. His Mother is just about the sweetest thing around and I'm sad knowing I'll never see her again. I like that his mother gave it to him and I like knowing that his little hands were on it when he was a wee wipper snapper growing up. And we had such a great time on our camping trip together. And it perfectly fits my sentimental criteria.

But I gave it all back to him today. I think I had a moment of guilt even though he isn't even aware he left this at my place and would never ever miss it or think about it again. And if I told him this entire ridiculous blurb I just shared with you, he would hand over the towel and let me have it...would probably even want me to have it, this old tattered shmatah. And I saw a part of myself, and how I am different from him, and this is what I need to focus on now.