Cut it out, will you?

Will people just stop getting married already?

It was so weird to come across pictures of a wedding online that years and years and years ago I may have once sat with the bride, dreaming about that day so distant in the future as scrawny (well, I was, anyway) little girls do.

There are two weddings I'm going to this month. One more in September and another in November. There's at least going to be two more next year. Though I guess if I want to compare anything, that wedding schedule is nothing compared to years ago when I did 12 in 10 months. Is it selfish to say that there's one I'm looking forward to more than all the rest, and it isn't even on the radar yet?
...

So I made the mistake of offering my limited graphic and layout abilities to a few parties in the last little while. Of the three parties, one I can handle; they understand I have my own life, that some graphic designs can be limiting, and that things take time. But they appreciate my assistance. The other parties are driving me nuts.

They're either not paying me, or not paying me enough. They expect immediate turnaround times when the project is asked of the night before. They have no clue what sort of time and effort to into projects like these. They have zero knowledge of what they want, or how they had it done before.

They don't know it, but I've quietly boycotted their work for a week now. Do I feel bad? Not really. But seriously, some people are going to get some EMAILS soon.
...

14 days until I stop mucking around and 17 days until I really get down to business (hopefully).

Food fight

Back off, get your own sandwich!

Seriously, people. Seriously.

The smaller things

- a point at a message in progress on screen
- a public status announcement

It's those small things that add up to so much more.

Tomato.

Opposites attract

Driving through Elora I saw a road sign.

"Ooh! An optimist club! I like it!"
"Oh I don't know about that..."

#2 Resolution

Last night I got on my bike for the first time in what had to be at least 5 years. I was terrified. And I hated it. I didn't hate being on the bike, I hated that I was terrified.

It's true, what they say, that you never forget how to ride a bike. But I forgot how to be fearless. Crazy handed me his helmet before getting started, and whereas when I was a young teenager I shunned even the thought of having to wear a helmet, this time I readily accepted.

Pushing off, I wobbly made it down the street before coming to stop to wait for Crazy because I'd decided I was too wobbly to turn around yet. I slowed down through the turns. I took 3 more blocks of leg burning uphill pedaling before I was comfortable enough to stand up and pedal. We accidentally came to a dead end so Crazy turned around and hopped the curb--I turned around and walked the bike down.

I've already convinced myself that it's because my bike was out of tune that I was so scared of riding it or taking the turns too fast. But I know it's not. It's me. Where did the carefree-ness of just DOING it go? Just letting go and trying it without considering the consequences? I guess some people would consider that being responsible. I think it's being chicken-shit.

My resolution?

I will not be Poultry #2. Watch out, cycling, I'm coming back.

Mirage

I saw the ice cream truck in the parking lot. I ran upstairs to get money. I ran back downstairs to the parking lot. The ice cream truck was gone. :(

Sobbingly proud

I spent the quiet morning in the office silently sobbing. Maybe I needed a good cry, but really the articles below were really well written. They hit just thatclose to the heart. And then mom called me and of course I had to tell her about the stories.

ma - ...and then I've been moping a bit and thought I should call you and gab!
me - And here you are and all I want to do is make you cry! Go read them.

Brian Burke carries torch in memory of Brendan
'We love you. This won't change a thing'
There's a light that never goes out
...

Happy Canada D-Eh, and Happy Pride Week. Be Proud.