Friday morning I woke up, turned on my light and frowned. Catching a sober glimpse of my Barbie-hot-pink fingernails (Pantone colour# 239 I'd guess) I decided that wine "tasting" and manicures are not such a good idea. Okay, hot pink fingernails is not such a big deal, but thank goodness they didn't decide to do wine tasting and tattooing.
The first session of the day was on fundraising. The presenter was great--very knowledgeable, entertaining, and passionate. As I sat there I actually started to feel like I didn't want to give all this up yet. I know I've complained loudly about my work with RMH, but it is a good cause. Although I have not been personally affected by the house or known someone who has used it, I can appreciate the importance of keeping families together during what can be a very scary time. I can empathize with the kids who just want their mom and dad and maybe their siblings to be there while they're in a hospital in a strange city. I can also empathize with the parents who want their spouses there for support while they have to watch their child go for the tests and surgeries. I know that I can't go back to doing the meetings and committee work, but there must be a project I can do on my own to help. I will have to investigate.
At a break I checked my phone for messages. Amara had been looking for me. She has a exciting opportunity for me which turns into some fun on Monday...
I did actually get to say hi to Michael Buble before the week ended. It wasn't very wonderful. I had just finished eating my chocolate covered ice cream on a stick and was on my way home when he was on his way in. He said hi. I said hi. Then I stopped and prayed that I did not have melted chocolate in the corner of my mouth or smeared across my lip. Never saw him again.
The conference went well, people quite enjoyed my creative contributions (I had to write stuff) and I learned a lot. I had intended to share more with you on this week, but the story just got too big--there was dialogue, flashbacks, sub-plots. It was a bit surreal. All told, it was a really fun week. Yay me.
And now she sleeps in a bowl full of cherries.
Constantly,
Consciously,
dreaming.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Don't Worry, be Happy
The story continues...
It is Thursday and Jill, our lovable yet ridiculous little heroine must get herself to the hotel on time for breakfast before her first day at the conference.
My alarm went off at the usual time of 5:30 am on Thursday morning. Instead of getting up I lay there, contemplating how much time I would actually need to get ready that morning as a) I didn't need to eat breakfast, I could eat at the hotel, b) I wasn't relying on a bus to get downtown, I was driving, however complicating matters was c) Truck needed gas and d) I needed to jump in the shower without disrupting Tracy's schedule, which I would be doing if I did not start my morning at the same usual time. I contemplated for approximately 30 cozy warm minutes. I decided that because breakfast was at 8:00 I should leave the house a little before 7:30. I came to this conclusion based on the theory that you can get to absolutely anywhere in Winnipeg in half an hour. Okay, ready, go.
Not sure how, but time passed a little more quickly than I had anticipated. All of a sudden it was 7:30 and I was spraying weather protector on my new boots, gathering up my materials, trying to decide what jacket to wear and wondering if I would have time to stop for Starbucks. I headed out the door, jumped into my mom's car to move it out from in front of Truck and noticed that there was frost on the windows. No problem for just moving the car out of the driveway, but Truck definitely needed some scraping. I frowned as I came to the realization, "I don't even have a snow brush in here anymore." I reach into my purse and pull out the first card I could find--MTS pay phone card, it would do. Scrape scrape scrape with defrost cranked to aid the process. It was not really a sufficient job. I realized I should have done the back window too. Things were pretty cleared up by the time I reached the gas station. As I stood at the pumps in my black boots, and cute black skirt I checked the time and realized that it was quite possible Truck would be the only one of us getting fed that morning.
After some "where do the conference people park?" confusion I finally got to sit down to eat a blueberry muffin. I scoped the room and saw that Michael Buble was sitting on the exact opposite side. He arrived late--Ahh, a rebel.
The first session of the day was The Yin and Yang of Leadership Development, presented by professional speaker, Dari Latimer. I quite enjoyed the Yin and Yang graphics and wished that Vince could be there to appreciate the session with me.
It is Thursday and Jill, our lovable yet ridiculous little heroine must get herself to the hotel on time for breakfast before her first day at the conference.
My alarm went off at the usual time of 5:30 am on Thursday morning. Instead of getting up I lay there, contemplating how much time I would actually need to get ready that morning as a) I didn't need to eat breakfast, I could eat at the hotel, b) I wasn't relying on a bus to get downtown, I was driving, however complicating matters was c) Truck needed gas and d) I needed to jump in the shower without disrupting Tracy's schedule, which I would be doing if I did not start my morning at the same usual time. I contemplated for approximately 30 cozy warm minutes. I decided that because breakfast was at 8:00 I should leave the house a little before 7:30. I came to this conclusion based on the theory that you can get to absolutely anywhere in Winnipeg in half an hour. Okay, ready, go.
Not sure how, but time passed a little more quickly than I had anticipated. All of a sudden it was 7:30 and I was spraying weather protector on my new boots, gathering up my materials, trying to decide what jacket to wear and wondering if I would have time to stop for Starbucks. I headed out the door, jumped into my mom's car to move it out from in front of Truck and noticed that there was frost on the windows. No problem for just moving the car out of the driveway, but Truck definitely needed some scraping. I frowned as I came to the realization, "I don't even have a snow brush in here anymore." I reach into my purse and pull out the first card I could find--MTS pay phone card, it would do. Scrape scrape scrape with defrost cranked to aid the process. It was not really a sufficient job. I realized I should have done the back window too. Things were pretty cleared up by the time I reached the gas station. As I stood at the pumps in my black boots, and cute black skirt I checked the time and realized that it was quite possible Truck would be the only one of us getting fed that morning.
After some "where do the conference people park?" confusion I finally got to sit down to eat a blueberry muffin. I scoped the room and saw that Michael Buble was sitting on the exact opposite side. He arrived late--Ahh, a rebel.
The first session of the day was The Yin and Yang of Leadership Development, presented by professional speaker, Dari Latimer. I quite enjoyed the Yin and Yang graphics and wished that Vince could be there to appreciate the session with me.
"The Yin and Yang of Leadership Development presents an ongoing paradox, in that being most effective at developing others requires that you develop a strong focus on yourself!"The speaker was very dynamic and full of positive energy. Her topic and points were interesting and motivating, however I found that I mostly live by what she was saying anyway. Here are some points I took down:
- See every problem as an opportunity
- The future is not some place we are going, but one we are creating
- If I really want to learn something, I teach it to someone else
- 93% of communication is non-verbal
- Know the importance of telling stories, they are memorable
- Ask yourself, "who are you, and what do you want?"
- Do you believe in the power of your words?
- The best way to learn is by attracting your opposite. Imagine having a conversation with the most irritating person; they represent your undeveloped self.
- Believe that everyone does the best they can given the information and resources they had at that moment.
- Check here for an interesting study on how exposing water to positive words and then freezing it made "prettier" crystals than doing the same to samples exposed to negative words.
I had mixed feelings about the presentation. Yes I am one of those who believes in positive thinking, choosing my own destiny and all that stuff, but motivational speeches like that seem to turn into 90 minutes of inspirational sound bites. Essentially, not much is said yet everything sounds profound and insightful.
The rest of the day's presentations were mostly sleepers--finances and stuff. At break time we got cookies and chocolate milk. I have never seen so many adults get so excited by brown cow milk.
I was scheduled to go to Pilates that night but the hospitality suite was calling my name--wine tasting and manicures. Normally, you'd have to break both my arms to get me to skip Pilates, but apparently free wine will also work. Michael Buble did not show up that evening, but I talked to a guy from Halifax instead and found out we were both going to the Bomber game on Friday. He looked like Mike from San Francisco, it was weird. Way too many flashbacks that week. I got home around 12:30 and went to bed looking forward to a grand finale on Friday.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
The Week that Was
I have been trying to figure out for the last three days how I was going to capture the events of the past week in my blog. I drew charts and diagrams, made notes and lists all in attempt to determine how best to present the latest collection of Jill Stories. The problem was that each day seemed to branch out into several sub plots and triggered memories of stories from the past. In the end, I decided to separate the stories by day, and to delay release of each post so as to not overwhelm my readers. I will start with Wednesday.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
It was finally here. After months of meetings and preparations, the 2006 RSH Conference was finally underway. Wednesday was the first day of sessions but I had only booked Thursday and Friday off work. Aside from the opening speaker on Wednesday morning, Dr. Richard Heinzl, founder of Doctors Without Borders Canada, I knew I wasn't missing much. That evening however was dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory with a Murder on the Menu performance. I arrived early and helped out with the set up. By 6:00 the delegates started to arrive. I was quite surprised to see that there was actually a number of guys showing up. My experience has been that volunteer work in general, and RSH specifically, is more popular with women, especially the middle aged to older variety. I said a silent prayer of thanks when a Brad Pitt type walked in. Tall, dimples, and good style. Things were starting to look more and more interesting that evening.
I seated myself at a table with my old boss from The Agency, along with my former client. They were talking business and I got a pang of nostalgia for the days when I was part of it all. It was another instance of me being transported back to 2004, about the third one that I noticed that week. The murder mystery actors started filing in and chatting with the guests. It was set up to play out like a live, interactive version of Clue, complete with characters such as Viktor Klien, Pearly Blancs, Professor Plumber, Miss Flamingo and Sargent Poupon. Pearly, a 70s love child who had consumed far too many pharmaceuticals as a teen, was distributing props at random. I was the recipient of a pair of round frame sunglasses. Mr. Brad Pitt received a pair of aviators, which he tried on and wore very nicely.
The performance was pretty interesting, the actors were great at staying in character. Near the end of the night, each person gave their alibi to the inspector. I don't remember how it worked into the storyline, but Viktor Klien announced that he had a talent for spotting celebrities. He found Liza Minnelli and also made the guy who I picked as Brad Pitt stand up, but he called him David Beckham. Then he pointed at me. I was super excited and nervous at the same time. I just hoped I was someone good! As I stood up he introduced me as the star of Bridget Jones' Diary and Cold Mountain, yes, I was Renee Zellweger! I played it modest and took a gracious bow. Here I was, a stranger to 95% of the people in the room and my first introduction to them was as a Hollywood starlet, not a bad start. Next was Pearly's turn for an alibi. Again, I don't remember how it worked into the story, but she announced that she was going to need a little help from her friends, which was a cue for all the people who had received a prop from her, to come up, put their arms around each other's shoulders and chant, "All that we're saying, is give peace a chance" while swaying side to side. I was so in my element. This was fabulous.
After dinner I decided to check out the hospitality suite. The suite was a cozy room with food and an open bar just for the conference people. Each night we had planned a different activity and that night was a Texas Hold'em tournament. I had no interest in the poker game, but instead focused my attention on a Michael Buble look-alike. Black suit, white shirt, good shoes--nice. I pointed out my observation to someone else who informed me that his name was in fact Mike. I watched his hands as he drank his beer and talked with the other guy delegates. No rings. Yes, at that point the conference just got WAY more interesting. I could hardly wait for Thursday.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
It was finally here. After months of meetings and preparations, the 2006 RSH Conference was finally underway. Wednesday was the first day of sessions but I had only booked Thursday and Friday off work. Aside from the opening speaker on Wednesday morning, Dr. Richard Heinzl, founder of Doctors Without Borders Canada, I knew I wasn't missing much. That evening however was dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory with a Murder on the Menu performance. I arrived early and helped out with the set up. By 6:00 the delegates started to arrive. I was quite surprised to see that there was actually a number of guys showing up. My experience has been that volunteer work in general, and RSH specifically, is more popular with women, especially the middle aged to older variety. I said a silent prayer of thanks when a Brad Pitt type walked in. Tall, dimples, and good style. Things were starting to look more and more interesting that evening.
I seated myself at a table with my old boss from The Agency, along with my former client. They were talking business and I got a pang of nostalgia for the days when I was part of it all. It was another instance of me being transported back to 2004, about the third one that I noticed that week. The murder mystery actors started filing in and chatting with the guests. It was set up to play out like a live, interactive version of Clue, complete with characters such as Viktor Klien, Pearly Blancs, Professor Plumber, Miss Flamingo and Sargent Poupon. Pearly, a 70s love child who had consumed far too many pharmaceuticals as a teen, was distributing props at random. I was the recipient of a pair of round frame sunglasses. Mr. Brad Pitt received a pair of aviators, which he tried on and wore very nicely.
The performance was pretty interesting, the actors were great at staying in character. Near the end of the night, each person gave their alibi to the inspector. I don't remember how it worked into the storyline, but Viktor Klien announced that he had a talent for spotting celebrities. He found Liza Minnelli and also made the guy who I picked as Brad Pitt stand up, but he called him David Beckham. Then he pointed at me. I was super excited and nervous at the same time. I just hoped I was someone good! As I stood up he introduced me as the star of Bridget Jones' Diary and Cold Mountain, yes, I was Renee Zellweger! I played it modest and took a gracious bow. Here I was, a stranger to 95% of the people in the room and my first introduction to them was as a Hollywood starlet, not a bad start. Next was Pearly's turn for an alibi. Again, I don't remember how it worked into the story, but she announced that she was going to need a little help from her friends, which was a cue for all the people who had received a prop from her, to come up, put their arms around each other's shoulders and chant, "All that we're saying, is give peace a chance" while swaying side to side. I was so in my element. This was fabulous.
After dinner I decided to check out the hospitality suite. The suite was a cozy room with food and an open bar just for the conference people. Each night we had planned a different activity and that night was a Texas Hold'em tournament. I had no interest in the poker game, but instead focused my attention on a Michael Buble look-alike. Black suit, white shirt, good shoes--nice. I pointed out my observation to someone else who informed me that his name was in fact Mike. I watched his hands as he drank his beer and talked with the other guy delegates. No rings. Yes, at that point the conference just got WAY more interesting. I could hardly wait for Thursday.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Apartment Stalking
Okay, some people go "Apartment Hunting" in the regular fashion. Not that I really know what that would be, because I've never done it before, never mind in "regular fashion" (and really, what do I ever do in "regular fashion" anyway?). Still, I imagine that it involves looking places up in some sort of publication and then making the appropriate arrangements to go and see the places. Today, Lisa and I went through the renter's guide and the Saturday classifieds, circled some promising looking places, and then ate dinner. At 8:30 I announced that I had a desire for something with chocolate. The best sources of chocolate also happen to be in the same neighbourhoods as the apartment listings we circled. So it was decided. We would go, at 8:30 pm on a Saturday night, and do drive-bys, or as we decided to call it, Apartment Stalking.
Naturally, there is a particular style one must sport when Apartment Stalking. The idea is to be stealthy. We both decided this meant wearing our newly purchased leather jackets (which we bought together last weekend, with the excuse, "hey, I don't have to save for a house anymore, I can go shopping again!"). I also wore my trademark pink hat. Stealthy indeed.
First stop was described as a loft on the corner of Academy and Borebank. This one excited us because it was in ritzy River Heights.
Next stop was Grosvenor Ave., which had a number of good looking candidates. I took Lisa's picture in front of one of our favourites, The Ritz.
Now Lisa is really into these old character places. Me, not so much. To me, "character" means no air conditioning, old and finicky fixtures and appliances, creaky floors, and not very open floor plans. I am worried that this is where you find the granola crunchers of the city. This is another reason why it is best that we have decided not to live together, but just close enough so that we can visit often. What did appeal to me though? The building on River Ave., just before it turns into Wellington Crescent (arguably one of, if not the most exclusive streets in Winnipeg, Wellington runs along the Assiniboine River).
One of the places (not the one pictured above) listed on Wellington featured valet parking and a doorman. That's where I SHOULD be, although I'm not sure if Truck would much appreciate a stranger parking him (oh yeah, the exorbitant amount that they want for rent has absolutely nothing to do with why that place didn't make my list).After what we called a successful evening of stalking, we headed to Baked Expectations on Osborne for "something with chocolate". We were feeling good about our literal steps to the next big thing in our lives.
Yes, I think the next chapter of A Jill Story has begun. I have been waiting some time for it now. I call it:
Living Like Rockstars
It's my new theme. It means music, fashion, glamour, travel, and the swankiest little place my modest salary can afford for me to rest my head at in between all the fun.
Rock on.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Welcome Back, Mom and Dad
My parents came home on Friday. On Tuesday I got Tracy to text message them about my green vest.
Reply:
Thanks, cuz all this time I had been looking in the shed...or wondering if I had left it in Saskatchewan...
Fortunately, things started turning around by Wednesday. It warmed up for starters, so I no longer needed the warm vest. Once Friday rolled around I just wanted to get home, away from the small fires on my desk, and eat a hamburger. I also had an assignment from Abby to watch Office Space (no I have never seen it, but this really should not surprise you). Like I said though, My parents came home and had a different idea. After three weeks of being on the road, my dad had a craving for pizza. He is quite particular about his pizza, which meant there was only one place he really wanted to go--Casa Grande. He phoned to make a reservation, found out he wouldn't be able to get a table until 7:30.
"Can you wait that long, Jill?" my mom asked me.
This is nice, I was thinking. I didn't think they'd ask me to come. "I guess," I said. "I just wanted a hamburger."
An hour later when it was time to leave I got my jacket and shoes on, stood at the bottom of the stairs looking expectantly at my dad and said, "well, are we going?"
"Yeah, you've got keys?"
Keys? I was confused. Why would I need keys? I was going out with them, surely they were going to let me back in the house upon our return. Then I glanced outside at the driveway and the pieces came together: Truck is last in the driveway. "Ohhh, that's the catch, I'm driving."
Casa Grande is a tiny traditional Italian restaurant, complete with the red and white checkered table cloths, candles in Chianti wine bottles on every table, red brick walls, and Italian accordion music. They used to have a jukebox that I loved playing with. This place is a family tradition. We've been going practically since I was a lil' bambino. Dad knows the owners well, and we always get the same waiter, Terry. They have a full menu of great sounding Italian pastas and other dishes, but we always go for the pizza. Mom and Dad shared the Super Extra Large Casa Grande Special, I got the ham and pineapple--large that night so I could bring home leftovers for Tracy.
I relayed to them all the happenings of the past three weeks. We were thankfully able to laugh about how I managed to forget to let Elmo in, twice no less. Yes, I was happy to have them back.
At the end of the dinner one of the waitresses stopped by to chat with Dad. She came back later with shots of Sambuca for all of us--courtesy of Frank, one of the owners. It was good stuff. I could only laugh to myself and think, if only someone had told me on Monday that by Friday I would be doing Sambuca shots with my father, then I probably wouldn't have had to look for hearts in my chicken noodle soup.
On the drive home I played my Billy Joel Live CD for my dad--my latest prize from the radio while they were gone. He tried to claim it for himself. My dad has these loud and annoying (I think) sneezes, so of course he had to start on a sneezing fit. I also found myself getting frustrated with the Firebird in front of me who seemed to be out for a Sunday cruise (You have a fast car, drive it properly, I always say, which is something I probably get from my dad. It drives me crazy when I see him in myself). Yes, it had been a long stupid week, but I could see that things were coming back to normal. Yay. Welcome back, Mom and Dad.
"Mom, do you know where Jill's green down filled vest is?"
Reply:
"Probably in the house somewhere. We're in Yorkton."
Thanks, cuz all this time I had been looking in the shed...or wondering if I had left it in Saskatchewan...
Fortunately, things started turning around by Wednesday. It warmed up for starters, so I no longer needed the warm vest. Once Friday rolled around I just wanted to get home, away from the small fires on my desk, and eat a hamburger. I also had an assignment from Abby to watch Office Space (no I have never seen it, but this really should not surprise you). Like I said though, My parents came home and had a different idea. After three weeks of being on the road, my dad had a craving for pizza. He is quite particular about his pizza, which meant there was only one place he really wanted to go--Casa Grande. He phoned to make a reservation, found out he wouldn't be able to get a table until 7:30.
"Can you wait that long, Jill?" my mom asked me.
This is nice, I was thinking. I didn't think they'd ask me to come. "I guess," I said. "I just wanted a hamburger."
An hour later when it was time to leave I got my jacket and shoes on, stood at the bottom of the stairs looking expectantly at my dad and said, "well, are we going?"
"Yeah, you've got keys?"
Keys? I was confused. Why would I need keys? I was going out with them, surely they were going to let me back in the house upon our return. Then I glanced outside at the driveway and the pieces came together: Truck is last in the driveway. "Ohhh, that's the catch, I'm driving."
Casa Grande is a tiny traditional Italian restaurant, complete with the red and white checkered table cloths, candles in Chianti wine bottles on every table, red brick walls, and Italian accordion music. They used to have a jukebox that I loved playing with. This place is a family tradition. We've been going practically since I was a lil' bambino. Dad knows the owners well, and we always get the same waiter, Terry. They have a full menu of great sounding Italian pastas and other dishes, but we always go for the pizza. Mom and Dad shared the Super Extra Large Casa Grande Special, I got the ham and pineapple--large that night so I could bring home leftovers for Tracy.
I relayed to them all the happenings of the past three weeks. We were thankfully able to laugh about how I managed to forget to let Elmo in, twice no less. Yes, I was happy to have them back.
At the end of the dinner one of the waitresses stopped by to chat with Dad. She came back later with shots of Sambuca for all of us--courtesy of Frank, one of the owners. It was good stuff. I could only laugh to myself and think, if only someone had told me on Monday that by Friday I would be doing Sambuca shots with my father, then I probably wouldn't have had to look for hearts in my chicken noodle soup.
On the drive home I played my Billy Joel Live CD for my dad--my latest prize from the radio while they were gone. He tried to claim it for himself. My dad has these loud and annoying (I think) sneezes, so of course he had to start on a sneezing fit. I also found myself getting frustrated with the Firebird in front of me who seemed to be out for a Sunday cruise (You have a fast car, drive it properly, I always say, which is something I probably get from my dad. It drives me crazy when I see him in myself). Yes, it had been a long stupid week, but I could see that things were coming back to normal. Yay. Welcome back, Mom and Dad.
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