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Iceland Through and Through PART SEVEN

The long road back to Reykjavik

The long road back to Reykjavik

Back to again to whence we came...

Saying Goodbye to Iceland is always a challenge. This time I had I lost My Everything skirt, a physical symbol of my past traveling adventures that I was able to drape over me, protecting me anytime at my most naked, and vulnerable moments of real and imaginary shiveries; now it was time for me to lose my footing on this place too. I always find a real connection here. This time I was with my longtime friends and together we'd experienced water droplets transforming into powerful landmarks, and towns that acknowledge sea monsters and believers in fairies. Even though I had amusedly pointed to an Interesting dot on a map which had kick-started our journey, being here was familiar, like being embraced by a soft, crinkly granny; somehow with every touch, every blink, I felt unspoken wisdom, recognition and safety. Here we felt free and protected by the many unseeing eyes that exist within the cliffs. All this confusion and happisadness still makes my mouth croak a laugh. I had fantasized about this place, yet in all its ancient apethetic-ness, Bildudalur, THE WESTFJORDS!!! and The Most Powerful Waterfall were all very real, very tangible. Somehow my imagination had woven me into the fabric of this land, and my feet on the ground made it real, made it just so. So if I never saw this place or my silly wrap-around skirt again, I imagine everything would be okay...

We spent our final day in the eclectic city centre of Reykjavik.

Main street

Main street

Where bright colours surround you, people are dressed-up like walking thrift stores, and the buildings are crafted like modern art exhibits, this city is designed to inspire. We got our first horizontal sleep in an industrial loft-style hostel and I felt my body melt into the fluffy sheets; how could this not be my home?

Reykjavik sidewalk
Reykjavik sidewalk

Most things in life just don't make any sense, but the questions don't pour out of me until I'm a safe distance away. As soon as I'm on the road I am free to challenge the silliness of my daily routine, and the customs I just take for granted back home in the society that forged me. Maybe that's the reason I just can't settle down; I need to keep challenging the norms and not be afraid to find out that so much of life is random, mysterious, and complex. But if I can piece together the strings of randomness, like Maxine Ferryboat, The Most Powerful Waterfall, the disappearance of My Everything, and that Interesting Place, then no matter what I always have a story, like a string of light bulbs hanging over me.

Finding hanging lights
Finding hanging lights

I can't speak for my two companions, but here is a short list of all the things I have learned from Iceland:

  • Sea monsters and fairies exist
  • Driving standard (well, driving in general) is a good skill to have (so I should probably get my licence!)
  • Tropical tents are not practical here for the frigid nights
  • When sleeping in a car, always park diagonally on a small hill for extra neck and back support
  • Geothermal baths are the greatest gift on Earth
  • Skyr is better than ice cream and greek yogurt combined
  • Don't walk alone on a glacier because of the howling sled dogs!
  • Be prepared to have at least one spiritual epiphany
  • Keep your bathing suits and wrap-around skirts locked up between uses
  • Takk-Skyr (Thank you-Yogurt) is a better swimming pool game than Marco-Polo
  • Being naked is the best, most-stylish outfit so don't be afraid to show yours off
  • There are many towns called Reykholt so make sure your GPS is Icelandic, not named Karen and from Australian
  • People will point and laugh at you, no matter what
  • Doing Tarot readings at the local pubs will cause the Bartenders to take photos of you
  • Always go to the Interesting Places, even if you have no idea where exactly they are located
  • Visit the WESTFJORDS!!!
  • Feel free to transform at any moment; nothing is permanent so just let go!
Painted tree
Painted tree
Final skyr devouring!
Final skyr devouring!

Never have I been to such a friendly, open and peaceful society. We will be thinking of you and all our adventures for centuries to come.

Takk fyrir Iceland!

Icelandic Pride
Icelandic Pride

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Iceland Through and Through PART FIVE

The Mystery of the Vanishing Bikini and Wrap-Around Skirt PART ONERECAP: By this point of our journey through the Icelandic Westfjords (or THE WESTFJORDS!!! as I lovingly refer to them) we've been sleeping upright/curled up in our chilly, lopsided Toyota Avensis each night, and driving through eye-shatteringly stunning scenery by day. We've avoided looking like ancient, homeless trolls because of the wealth of natural hot springs scattered all over, and somehow fended off running out of fuel with a broken gas meter. After an epiphany from a surprise encounter with a powerful waterfall, we finally rested our exhausted minds, unwound our car-cramped bodies in the caress of a hot bath hidden in a grassy hillside. Then we peacefully hung up our bathing suits and towels to dry and drifted off to sleep...

Sunlight between the fjords. I am not sure when this was taken as it is sunny all night long!

Sunlight between the fjords. I am not sure when this was taken as it is sunny all night long!

When we awoke the next morning, THE WESTFJORDS!!! were there as usual, just gazing down at the world, doing there stoically beautiful thing. There were three other cars and families of campers who had rested along side us; they had the proper gear and glossy-magazine-type-camping organization and were already packed up and ready to hit the next glossy-magazine highlight. We were disentangling ourselves from our sleepy state as the first car drove off; it belonged to a happy-looking family with two children. A blonde dread-locked-extreme adventure-type man and his girlfriend were packing up their winter-proof tent, and exchanging smiles with us, no doubt amused by out lack-of-tent and thermal gear. The remaining car belonged to two women, one of Asian background and the other a brunette grumpy-and-focused-extreme-adventure type with an Australian accent. We noticed their hastiness to pack up their gear, avert their eyes away from us, and a moment later drove off 'round the bend in road. We exchanged quizzical glances; we'd never seen anyone in Iceland who was neither friendly nor calmly enjoying life. Always the positive spirit, Madison commented on how she thought it was clever how they'd hung up a clothes-line in the backseat of their SUV. We pondered the idea of having our clothes neatly hung up wherever we drove for all to admire... then we looked at the overflowing backseat of our deteriorating car and shook our heads. On that note, we decided to collect our cold, drying clothes and move on to the next town's spa for our daily underwear change and teeth brushing session.

Here's where our adventure takes an ominous turn: while Madison's bikini was still neatly resting outside, inside the tiny wooden changing structure, Amy and my garments had fared much worse. While my old mouldy towel and bathing suit were still there, Amy's cool Californian tie-dyed bikini was not. What was worse, My Everything (aka a long, warm wrap-around skirt from Nepal that can be used as a blanket/towel/lovely dress/everything else and was given to me by a friend I'd met in Ghana, so therefore had irreplaceable sentimental value!) was no longer neatly draped over a plank of wood....no it, too, was gone! After checking here, there and everywhere (and in a little knoll at the base of an barren fjord I can safely say we checked everywhere) we determined that our items were gone...or (insert dramatic crime movie music) stolen! Although it was quite possible that it could have been little fairies, elves or angry trolls, we decided it was more probable that the kidnapping was committed by humans. What would Bildudalur fairies possibly want with a bathing suit and an Everything?! 

We'd seen plenty of detective dramas to know exactly what to do at this point. So like any well-read Nancy Drew-expert, we decided to: Step 1) Devise a suspect list. Our list looked something like this:

1. Happy Family with two children 2. Icelandic Dreadlocked-Adventure Couple 3. Grumpy Women with a clever clothes line 4. Bildudalur elves, fairies, and trolls

Step 2) Brainstorm possible motives/alibis/suspicions of the suspects in connection with the kidnapping of our innocent items Our new list looked something like this:

1. Happy Family with two children: Motive: Children like to have more stuff and haven't learned that kidnapping is wrong Suspicions: The family packed up first thing in the morning and was the first to leave the campsite. Alibi: Our items wouldn't fit the children, and children like new things. The family was already asleep by the time we arrived at the campsite so wouldn't know that we'd left sentimentally-valuable and California-cool items unlocked. 2. Icelandic Dreadlocked-Adventure Couple: Motive: Adventure-type people are attracted to fair-trade Nepalese and tie-tyed things. Suspicions: Low. They were friendly to us, and made a natural conversation (unless they were very, very good actors...hmmm). Alibi: They are Icelandic and the crime rate in iceland is less than 1% and the less than 1% of crime that occurs in Iceland is done by tourists, therefore by being Icelandic, statistically speaking, they should be removed immediately from this list). 3. Grumpy Women with a Clever Clothes Line: Motive: Adventure-type people are attracted to fair-trade Nepalese and tie-dyed things. They also needed more things to hang on their clothes line. Suspicions: Hastily left the campsite, avoided eye contact with us, appeared uncomfortable when Madison was admiring the Clever Clothes Line. Alibi: None. Tourists are, statistically, capable of crime. Since one was Asian and the other was speaking with an Australian accent we can safely say they are tourists and thus capable of theft! 4. Bildudalur elves, fairies and trolls No need to fill this out, just refer back to Suspect 3!!!

We knew the next courses of action would be tricky as we were dealing with two grown women who were capable of kidnapping, successfully navigating themselves around a strange country, and booking an enjoyable, yet somehow grumpy, vacation for themselves. They were definitely dangerous and now our items were somewhere in THE WESTFJORDS!!! that was all we knew. And by this time My Everything and Amy's hippie bikini would already be dry so there would be no need to hang them visibly on the Clever Clothes Line. We had a moment of silence for our kidnapped possessions and decided to continue our journey anyway. I lent Amy my Calvin Kline booty shorts so at least she'd be able to mourn her bathing suit from the comfort of the Icelandic baths. We bid farewell to the Icelandic Extreme-Adventure couple, not mentioning that they had momentarily been suspects in an international kidnapping case.

Even without our beloved belongings, the next few days in the Bildudalur fjords passed by amazingly well...as usual in the WESTFJORDS!!!!

Skrímsli  means sea monster!

Skrímsli means sea monster!

We learned quite a lot about the history of local Skrimsli (sea monsters) at the Bildudalur Sea Monster Museum and mulled over the possibility of a Shore Laddie or Giant Sea Horse having been involved in the kidnapping. We had a lovely long chat with the manager of the museum, clad in a tale coat and French moustache, about the availability of houses in the area because I was interested in staying there forever. He didn't laugh, flinch or think me odd when I told him I was descended from the Bidudalur Elves; in fact, he thought that was a perfectly acceptable answer as to why I wanted to acquire property and citizenship to a sea monster-filled neighbourhood. Museum Moustachio (we forgot to ask him his real name) politely told us that the best way would be to marry one of the local lads since apparently there is a vast shortage of women in THE WESTFJORDS!!! I said I was more interested in the Shore Laddies.

We went for a very long walk to an Interesting Place on a map, even though we had no idea what the Interesting Place would be, or when or where we would find it. We walked for a very long time, mulling over the word Interesting; it seemed everything was interesting, so opening our eyes wide enough to see what could be extra-extra Interesting, Map-Worthy-Interesting, was an interesting challenge. Finally, we decided that it's just interesting to go for a walk to an unknown Interesting Place and that the person making the map (probably a lonely old Icelandic lad, living in fear of Scrimsli and tourist-kidnappings of his possessions) probably was paid to put Interesting dots on the map and didn't have any intention of checking whether or not the dots represented places that were actually of Interest. We decided we should take more walks in the future, whether or not they end up in Map-Worthy-Dots.

The next day we found an unmarked Interesting boat and took some Interesting photos with it. It was a very Interesting Place to take Truno band shots!

Pause for a band photo!
Pause for a band photo!

The next series of photos were snapped at the Latrabjarg cliffs, the most Westerly point of Europe (just in case you are interested in Interesting Map Dots and Facts). They are also home to swarms of cuddly, squishy and cute puffins. We spent a good hour here trying to kidnap the puffins like the nasty, interest-seeking tourists we surely are.

Puffins on the cliffs of Latrabjarg, the most Westerly point in all of Europe!
Puffins on the cliffs of Latrabjarg, the most Westerly point in all of Europe!
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Photo expert Madison loved the puffins
Photo expert Madison loved the puffins

After all the photo taking at the bird-filled cliffs, and being so repulsed by a mixture of poop and feather fluff that we decided to set free all the puffins we tourists had kidnapped into the 1999 Toyota Avensis, we only had a few hours to catch our ferry back to mainland Iceland. We were sad to leave the magic and the peace we'd found in THE WESTFJORDS!!! but also anxious that Karen, our Australian GPS wouldn't remember where the ferry was, and then we'd be forced into a marriage with a Shore Laddie in order to survive here forever. So away through the fog and clouds, down the windy unpaved roads we went, ears popping from the altitude for the last time.

My future house
My future house

We arrived early at the ferry docks and could already see the boat making its triumphant second and final daily trip across the sea. Many cars and trucks were lined up, and ready to go. Amy had to nip to the loo (go the bathroom) for the millionth time (sorry Amy, but you really do need to go...A LOT) so we piled into the tiny wooden coffee and supplies shop at the bottom of the hillside. There was a line for the bathroom so we patiently waited in the queue, sharing friendly smiles with the other passengers. One of the woman waiting had a grumpy expression, and as soon as I made eye contact with her, she averted her eyes and shuffled off to the back of the queue, looked around slowly, and then hurried out the door on to the porch; she stared out at the sea with her back to us. Hmmm, that was weird, I thought.

A moment later, the door to the loo creaked open revealing a young Asian woman clad in adventure-type gear. My throat went dry and my stomach collapsed at my feet. I could feel Madison's tummy hit the ground beside me. Amy dashed into the bathroom. We didn't have time to make a plan of action, so we gave our best, most angelic grins and enthusiastic nods of traveller-recognition, you know, the kind that fellow budget travellers who think they will never see one another other again do when they coincidentally buy tickets for the same ferry on a very small tip of Iceland in which only 3% of tourists visit, including the 0.02% who like to steal damp beachwear and the 0.01% who are innocent victims of such crimes. The Asian woman nodded stiffly, hesitated, and then walked right out the shop and stood beside the grumpy Australian, arms folded away from us. We could see them whispering, plotting, planning to hide the evidence...and possibly dump our bikinis, and now our bodies, over the side of the ferry at Flatey Island. Before Amy could flush, they were briskly walking down the porch and away...

Step 3) Investigate your suspects. Well, at this point they were no longer suspects, they were The Accused! Thanks to our list and detailed detecting, we could have called the police, but we didn't know the Icelandic number for 911, so we decided to stay hot on their tail and, really, how far could they get on a twelve vehicle ferry boat!

Finally Amy emerged from the bathroom and we filled her in on the situation, from the grumpy faces to the whispering, right down to the walking away from the porch. Amy was a little more reluctant to affirm their obvious guilt:

What if those aren't the same people? she pointed out. HOW MANY ASIAN PEOPLE ARE THERE IN THE WESTFJORDS!!! Madison and I snapped back, yes I'll admit, slightly paranoid. Okay, well...what if they didn't take our stuff? Amy pondered.You're honestly going to pin this on a happy family or vacationing Icelandic couple who were very friendly?! Amy be logical! We have to come up with a plan! Madison and were getting more hysterical. Amy still wasn't entirely convinced, being the thoughtful MA in School Psychology that she is.Madison took Amy's hands and, summoning up her most authentic Oprah spirit she said, Amy, I understand where you're coming from, but how does losing your bikini really make you feel? Amy thought for a moment... Okay, let's go after those grumpy thieving tourist- Bitches! I added, you know, just to be the bad Canadian cop for once...

Will the Three Tourist-Detectives bring the Grumpy-Thieving-Adventure-Tourists to justice? Or will the cool bikini, and BB's Everything disappear into the dark depth off the coast Vatnsfjörður forever? Or will Amy come to her senses and just look up the number for 9-1-1?

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Roadtrip: Maryland Crabfest 3.0/Operation Sandy 2012

That chilly wind's a'blowin'! Pumpkins are a growin'! So that must mean we're goin'...on our annual roadtrip to Maryland. This marks the 3rd year of crab feasting followed by blue grassin' it up and hoe-in' down at nearby Chester Town. In past years Jo's best Betterton farmhouse was the pit stop along the way to a Rally for Sanity in Washington, DC, and last year's Occupy movement in NYC. image

Sanity Rally, Washington D.C 2010

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Showing my support for Sanity (as Liz Lemon), 2010

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The better way to fuel up on the way to Betterton, MD 2011

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Occupy Wall Street in a blizzard with a Malian tea ceremony, 2011

Besides a whole lot of super-awesome fun, what would this year bring? With the election looming, of course there had to be a Hurricane! Finally, we young, hip liberal Canadians were in the better place this time. We  turned this year's crab fest into:

                                                   C.R.A.B.F.E.S.T

(Canadians Raising Awareness in Betterton for Environmental Atrocities Such as Hurricanes and Tornadoes)

SInce most of us have volunteered or been part of social action projects in Africa and around the world, this was the perfect opportunity to volunteer our time and skills to our neighbouring community! We're not hurricane experts, but we are volunteers. We may not have the right skills, but who cares because, we're volunteers! Betterton is a small town of approx. 347 people, bounded by the sassy Sassafraz river. The Betterton folks seem like a tight-knit, middle class American community, home to honest hardworking families. It was important to suspend judgement and focus on raising hurricane awareness to prepare these honest hardworking American families for the impending storm; what if even one person didn't understand that Sandy wasn't just a lovely neighbour visiting for the weekend, but actually a powerful natural disaster? As Canadian volunteers, it's important to make sure that the Betterton community was not fooled by the American media. While we were there to help our friend's fantabulous Mamma stay dry, we hoped our Canadian hurricane prevention strategies would catch on in the community.

Even though we aren't really affected by hurricanes regularly in Toronto, if we were, we would definitely need:

1) duck tape 2) rolls of plastic sheets 3) mulch (which is cheaper than sandbags or hay and, garden-friendly!) 4) volunteer power to put it all together!!!

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Handy-dandy volunteers Laura, Steph and Fiona figuring out how best to implement the duck tape for maximum anti-Sandy-sealant.

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Betterton babe, Jo, and lovely Laura tackling those gritty gutters! It was a sunny 25 degrees C! Luckily we volunteers knew what was coming...

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Me, assessing the plastic sheets and making sure every last crack is covered. Jo's cat was hiding under the house; if we hadn't volunteered our time to this community, that cat might not have made it through Sandy (or we would have trapped it under the house...but let's focus on the our good volunteers intentions and not that we almost killed a cat. We later bought cat food for the cat, which is a positive thing).

Here is some feedback from the Volunteers when asked how they felt about the intense work they were doing for the Betterton community:

"This is what we do. It's peace, it's love, it's normal. We ain't afraid of no Sandy" -Steph, regularly volunteers in Haiti

"As a volunteer I bring a lot of energy and I think that just helps people feel better...To the people back home, you need to get out in the world and just meet people because everyone is so special" -Leora, Volunteer Spirit Lifter

"I'm really passionate about the ocean. I don't like any litter, so I will pick it up to support all the marine life. That's how I'm saving the world, and the marine life. At least I know I've done my job." -Elliot Miller, Volunteered in Ghana and works with Autistic children

"This is fun! We're having fun. I feel really good helping other people. If we weren't here, people might be upset. We're here for you, and for the people." -Mika, first-time volunteer and speak Hebrew

"If we weren't here, this mulch wouldn't have been moved. The duck tape would still be full. The house might have been under water." -BB, led a volunteer trip through Ghana

Yes, as Canadians, we felt very fulfilled to be devoting our time to this community who's embraced us so warmly three years in a row, and offered us crabs, and blue grass. Unrolling the tarp and taping it down was moderately tough, so in between all the moderately-hard volunteering and moderately-ethical photo-ops, we did what all volunteers love to do:

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BE ACTIVE: Beach volley ball gone wild

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GET WET: in appropriate ways

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CATCH SOME ZEDS: Any place will do (the more awkward the better)...Zzzzz!

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EAT LOCAL (but think global)

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HOE IT DOWN: with the Chester River Run off, bluegrass band

The ten hour ride home brought relaxation and reflection on our best, busy weekend in Betterton. Although we didn't steal any Romney signs, we still felt like fulfilled slightly-above-average-volunteer-citizens. Even in just short weekend, we saw the opportunity to do something more; instead of a door, we saw a window: A window that could let in a powerful natural disaster if not voluntarily sealed with duck tape. And once again, we worked together volunteering our non-expert, yet hip-artistic-Canadian-wonderific skill set to have another creative and awwwwww-some weekend, with or without Sandy. Already we're dreaming of the next road trip!

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I saved the world by not squishing this praying mantis. I mean, what if this magical mantis is praying for World Peace?!

Until next time,

C.R.A.B.F.E.S.T Volunteer BB

PS: It's duck tape, right?

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the world needs a little Grinch.

bah humbug. it's christmas. again. i tried to run, but there's no point in hiding any longer. it's time to face the musak and embrace the empty calories, and curl up on the rug beside the fire. very reluctantly. while everyone else is dreaming of sugar plums, i am puzzling and puzzling. no, i didn't get a jigsaw of Paris under the tree, i'm pondering why why WHY december brings the anxiety, guilty tummy squirmy worms and bitter attitude. if i were a bear i'd be gnawing on my foot, licking my tufts, fur flying everywhere with bleary puppy dog eyes. why oh WHY?!

remember in the "Grinch" when the rich, economically stable Whos get all their nicknacks and pattywacks stolen and are robbed of their roasted beast? of course you do. it was a horrible, unjust moment in Who society, melting our regular-sized hearts. but the Whos dance and sing and join hands anyway. crisis: averted. and we learned that maybe christmas is about a little bit more than all that other crap. *sigh*

nope not true. christmas is still about all THAT and more, more *insert dollar signs here*. of course i heard the chrimstas stories as a a child. it was fun to listen to, but at the end i was still secretly prayed my mountain of toys would never be grinched. tumbling down the stairs, my body running on glee and the excitement of seeing all the toys under the tree for me, me, me. and of course i cherished being surrounded by family. breakfasting on chocolate once a year, being bundled up like a over-cooked lobster to teeter outside in the holy snow, and having my goblet filled with holiday nog and watching my stomach grow with turkey... my friends and strangers alike, on TV and in movies, had the same experiences, the same visions and memories of the bestest day of the year: christmas.

TRADITION. tradition... addiction. isn't repetition the definition of insanity?

as i grew, i watched the stuff i had wanted and had to HAVE HAVE HAVE become outdated, broken, soooo lame, taking up space. my parents are divorced, so i could never spend time with both sides; it was a battle to choose, this or that. having and wanting grows exhausting. all the tears i had shed over dolls and packaged-up plastics and electronics is energy i can never get back again. energy i could have use my creative mind to build something, learn to sew or understand advanced functions and relations. with all the hustle in the malls and on the streets, the forced cheers and jolliness and scramble to make plans to see each other, i began to question, to descend into madness and turn my plastered on grin upside down. if christmas doesn't come from the store, then why are we going there? why aren't we learning a little bit more?

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christmas is only white because it exists in the western world. as i loaded up thousands of dollars worth of gift cards in my retail job, and listen to the endless loop of carols that have been playing since november, i understand WHY i don't want to be apart of  this christmas we have created here. i got a letter from a few kids i met in a village in Ghana. they are excited about christmas because they got to sleep in and go to church and read together and sing as a family without worrying about chores for once. the sun there is very hot and bright today. they ask me when i will come to visit and please can i bring my iPod so they can listen to some of the music my friends and i wrote. and maybe, could i help them to write a story. i know they can help me too.

our society needs to be grinched. scrooge the line-ups and the price tags and the piles of wrapping gone unrecycled. let the kids wake empty handed, forced to play with the trinkets of yesteryear. if i could go back, i would tell my parents to never have given in to my complaints and when begged for this, that and all. to give me nothing in hopes that i could find something meaningful for myself. coal is actually the smartest gift of all because then you can start a fire. i'm sure Einstein didn't cry because he didn't get an eazy bake oven under the tree. and he turned out fine, even without an iPad. fads and junk will just end up at the dumb. and we'll be the dump bears looking back and sorting through it all, piece by piece. *growl*

after work yesterday, in the bitter cold, amidst the rushing parents and rude prada-clad customers, i met my best friend on the stone cold steps on the street a few stores down from the giant coffee shop she works for. exhausted and downtrodden, we exchanged gifts right there on the stoop. for the first time in a long time, i felt the magic of christmas. there we were, frozen, overworked and with hardly any money to spend. we laughed. the presents were perfect: a microphone and harlequin romance for me (singing and lusty love, my favourite!) and caramel tea and a loose-leaf tea filter and for her, so we can drink tea together at home. we joked that we are celebrating "homeless christmas": alone on the streets, drifting from experiences, trying to find ourselves, banding together with the other have-not/want-nots and creating the most magical moments out of the little things.

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awkward "framily" palaroid taken at Homelesz Xmas party. It was a Value Village, No Frills, homemade alcohol and re-used board game affair to remember!

forget christmas. i barely remember the presents that piled up for me other years. what i do remember are the challenging experiences (almost completing my degree, bartending at a busy night club, killer bees in Burkina Faso) when i was forced to fend for myself, think with my brain (though I still never re-tackled advance fuctions..next christmas!). for me christmas is about nothing. because without nothing i would never be able make something for anyone and appreciate the truly amazing friends, family and family of friends i have discovered along the way.

call me a cranky old cranky-pants. scrooge you and i hope you get grinched.

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JOY TO THE WORLD! MAY ALL YOUR CHRISTMASES BE DIVERSE!

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emoti-CON.

don't ask me how my day was. puhlease. i am a oversized teenager of technology, so i don't feel like talking right now. text me later. or better yet, refer to my most-frequently-used emoticons of the day. here is a screen shot of a recent real-life conversation:

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water droplets: i recently poured two big glasses of water over this guy, while he was sleeping. i was angry #justification. naturally i texted all my bffs with the play-by-play of the night.

soccer ball: south american world cup soccer is on. this cute gurl i like is peruvian. goal! (actually chile won)

little happy boy: the boy i dumped water on.

little happy girl: me.

eggplant: ohhhhh inside joke.

excited blushing: there's been lots of exciting drama lately. oh! oh!

cheers: and lots of nights out...but i can't really remember too well...

distressed tears: does he like me? does she like me? was i invited? can i come? life is so unfair!

pointy finger: i like to pretend i give good advice and feel more authoritative if i hold my finger up when i text it.

skull: a) DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM b) resembles a eccentric ex-co-worker who we constantly refer to.

sulking: i missed out on lots of sitting-around-chatting-time because i had classes all day. awwwww.

bashful: i'm pretending to be modest but i know the comments i'm taking are actually really witty and i'm so pretty. you love me right...right?!

pretty lady: my bff.

zzZ: i'm so fucking hungover.

princess: expresses my current opinion that boyz act like stupid entitled girly-girlies.

wedding cake: it's almost my birthday!!!

running: i'm-late-i'm-late-for-a-very-imporant-date-no-time-to-say-hello-goodbye-i'm-late!!!

arm: i dislike gurlz with saggy upper arms. just because i'm gay does't mean i'll settle for any gurl. no arm pudge!

snow cone: let's go back to that create-your-own-low-fat frozen yogurt place! yumz. I KNOW RIGHT?!

apple: left boob (aka BOB)

orange: right boob (aka TOM)

now you never need ask how my day was. so tonight i'm gonna:

APPLE-ORANGE-SLUTTY DRESS-RUNNING-CHEERS-PRETTY LADY-CHEERS-zZZ-TEARS

if you are my parents then i'm actually

NOTEBOOK-TEXTBOOK-PENCIL-CALCULATOR-A+-DESK-LIBRARY-VEGETABLES-JOGGING

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