I have this silly memory of the very first time I went home after I moved out. My parents still lived in Terrace for a while after I moved to Vancouver. I don�t even think I had lived in Vancouver that long in fact I was probably living in Dirty Burn [Burnaby, a suburb]. I know it was also the Thanksgiving long weekend though because John Denver died that weekend and it was really fucking trippy to all three of us that I just happened to be home when the artist that I had grown up listening to, saw live at three with Gordon Lightfoot at Canada�s Wonder Land and as an adult still love like he is still here had died and we just happened to be together when it happened, when he crashed his plane. Most people have no idea how much that man did for music and tried to do for music for the protection of freedom of speech for artists.

My Dad and I had this tradition that faded in and out depending on my age that we always went to movies together. The movie theatre in Terrace is the worst theater in the entire world. Ok fine so your feet stick to the floor but fuck it�s the seats, the worst seats EVER. I have no idea what movie it was but it was like less than a half and hour till it started and I was getting nervous and feeling anxiety and I was like Dad we gotta go man we gotta go we are going to be late what are you doing lets GO!!! He swiftly reminded me we were on northern time and we left five minutes before the movie started and made it on time drove there and everything didn�t even miss the previews. I bet you it is the Terrace movie theatre that is responsible for my having to have ass surgery.

When I moved out to Vancouver in 1996 I was nineteen years old, naive, unaware, unaffected and completely oblivious to what was really going on in the world outside of my ignorant bubble.

I moved here with a man of Yugoslavian decent, the majority of his family resided in Belgrade, Serbia. I knew there had been a war but at the time I was too self-centred and un-educated to have realized much more.

Shortly after settling into big city life a request came from *Jeff’s mother to go visit a family that had recently escaped from Serbia and were living in the lower mainland.

Jeff had told me countless stories. Before we left Terrace he had spent a month in Belgrade. This was after Bosnia, Serbia, and Croatia had signed the Dayton Peace Accord to end the war in Bosnia- but us all, as fellow beings know- well before there was any actual resolve in the regions.

We went to visit the family, two parents living in a tiny two bedroom apartment with two kids. They had almost nothing, I remember they were so happy and thankful to merely see us I had an instant anxiety attack, I didn’t know what to expect, didn’t in truth understand why we were there and what his mother expected from us. Why would these people want to visit with a nineteen and twenty year old?

I knew that it was Jeff’s grandparents that had done whatever was necessary to get this family out and although it was very painful for Jeff’s mother, his relatives had decided to stay, despite their daughters endless pleas for them to leave.

We only visited this family once. Mine and Jeff’s relationship ended, he returned to Terrace and I went on to surviving with my own version of nothing.

A few years a go I took an interest in Africa. I feel very strongly that no matter what your financial situation we should all support causes and organizations that mean something to us. The Terry Fox Foundation, The WWF and the continent of Africa are the places where I concentrate any support I can offer.

It wasn’t until I took an interest in Africa, reading about Somalia, Rwanda, learning about what was really happening over in these countries, that I realized right in front of my face a family, a man I loved at the time had been and was dealing with a massacre of their own people, members of his family had been forced to toss bodies into mass graves and I somehow had no idea just how severe the situation was.

The realizations came in a flood, he had shown me books made to document the massacres, stuff you don’t see on the news, and I held stories in the back of my head but nothing that I wanted to think about. When the cloud of ignorance cleared I felt like I had missed an amazing opportunity to have learned from this family and to have done a fuck lot more than visiting them ONCE. I know I did learn from them but I realized the lessons years too late.
—
There is a genocide taking place right now as I type these words in the African country Sudan if you don’t already know the main area is called Darfur.
I’m no preacher, I’m no expert. But this is not America’s problem, it is not Canada’s problem it is the world’s problem. After WW II, after Yugoslavia, after Rwanda how in the 21st century can we allow this to continue to happen? Over 400,000 women, children and men have already been slaughtered. This is a genocide we can stop.
Every single one of us has the power to do something no matter how big no matter how small.
This weekend ALL OVER THE WORLD there are groups getting together in support of stopping the war in Sudan.
Here is how I’m participating: End A War [this is just one of many organizations with plans for this weekeknd]

*name changed

I regress

The week before Christmas my Dad got thrown from a horse he was training for the neighbors. Upon landing my Dad found himself with four broken ribs. The hospital did not have a room for him; he spent three and a half days in emergency. NICE. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Due to various other serious health issues already present they could not allow him to go home - not to mention living so far out in the bushes. Although I am very glad they kept him there I can’t imagine how insane of an experience the emergency room would have been for that many days.

YOU may be asking yourself - aren’t things with your family in the shitter?

Through two years of pain, tears, break downs, spazz outs, threats and hard work we are a bona fide family again. It took my father and me until last Thursday to spend close to four, if not more, hours talking out the past. [I arrived on the Saturday] My father and I are very stubborn but I think he finally understands where I’ve been coming from. I know there is a part of him that hates that it all happened the way it did, but I hate it too.
All that matters is that the three of us have been heard and that I feel that I can have an honest relationship with them, trust them and go back to sharing my life with them. We still disagree on things from the past and have different memories of how things were but we seem to be able to agree to disagree. And leave it at that.
I never wanted or asked my parents to change, I accept that they will still do some of the same shit that pisses me off to no end AND vice versa. but I realize this is family, and not everyone has the chance to work it out and keep it real. I am very thankful for that.
I did however want them to acknowledge my experience of what it was like growing up with them. I feel I have gotten that and even before I went up I had started to move on and look forward to the future.

I still plan on being brutally honest when writing about my past experiences and what it was like to grow up feeling as neglected as I felt, but I will not blame. And I also understand some things better now and am able to see them from a different perspective.
They still don’t change the ending.
They’ve learned, I’ve learned but there are still experiences and stories that for me need to be told. Would I have a therapist and a Category called ‘assholes’ and another one called ‘depression’ if there were none to be told. [I think not]

All of a sudden ABC was posting

I had this rad as shit post planned for my escape to the north and in escape I mean - FROM THE FUCKING RAIN - when my site went DOWN for like 24 hours. It sucked; I was scared and felt naked.
I also felt guilty because I KNEW I was not going to able to visit blogs up there, nor had I mentioned ABC4 was added as a PERMANENT user on gus greeper.

My ticket was booked within the week I was leaving — I have a post coming SOON on an appointment for something I HAD to make but was holding off making because I knew even though they had denied my immediate request to come and help out that they would eventually cave and fly me up.

By cave I mean:

• With this appointment I had to make - I’d been putting it off and they knew it
• I won’t even be looking for work IF I look at all until March
• I agreed with my father that with them so far out in the bush by choice my mother has to be able to handle all the chores that are required when you live in the sticks.
• It made sense to go help when he was beginning to feel better
• I knew my mom would need a break
• I knew we all needed to be together

My arrival I never thought I would ever hear these words come out of my mouth - but I actually said I was hockey’d out when I got off the plane and heard we were heading almost straight to a Prince George Cougars (WHL) game. The saving grace was seeing BRENT SUTTER [the coach for our World Juniors, he has won us the gold TWO years in a row] he got a standing ovation before they even officially announced him. Oddly, his WHL team is in last place. The Cougars ate his team for dinner and everyone was happy.

I don’t think I was actually ‘hockey�d out’ and I do feel it uncontrollably necessary to defend that insane and NOT AT ALL Canadian statement. [I’m lucky no one rushed me off to the hospital to ensure I hadn�’t seriously lost my mind to the point of no return - those words will never leave my mouth again I swear to the Gods of Hockey]
I had simply been SPOILED by the Juniors and watching the Canucks lose what felt like a million games in a row - - but see! it all came at once. Juniors on one channel, NHL on another, go to a live game, win the gold medal, get off the plane, go to another game, and see Brent Sutter in person. Could I BE anymore hard done by?

FYI:

When it comes to the WHL I do not follow it closely, I’m a self proclaimed bandwagon Cougars fan. I have been to one WHL game in Vancouver and The (vancouver) Giants actually played the Cougars. I cheered so loud I AM WITHOUT doubt LUCKY I didn’t get my ass kicked, any harder than I fear getting it kicked when I wear my Leafs Jersey to Canucks games.
The Cougars beat The Giants this did not help my case at all and I fled.

I saw two games while up there and the Cougars won both. [the parents have seasons tickets] There is NOT A DOUBT in my mind that I bring that team good luck. I expect to be hired on as some kind of goddess of the ice mascot extremely soon. If the offers DO NOT start pouring in I WILL cry. [the ugly cry]

The work

This is my favourite photo taken because:

• I have seriously HOT sun glasses on
• There is fresh snow to plough and I KNEW because of the first day I ploughed the driveway that I was going to have SO MUCH FUN
• AS IF I wore a hard hat but I thought it would make the photo cooler

Except for the photos of me cleaning my Dad’s fish tank where I got covered in fish shit and hated it, the photos and commentary presented by ABC4 in my absence covers the hardest of the work.

Some unexpected Drama

Mrs E.

oh what you thought she couldn’t get to me up north? SO DID I.

Mrs E. enters the apartment twice.
Adam explains to me over communication device that he has been leaving a special light on for Gus. On two separate days he came home and the light was OFF.

FUCKINGBITCHCUNTFACEWANTTOKILLHERDEADZOMEBIESHOULDEATHERBRAINS

Adam goes next door and tells her to STAY THE FUCK OUT. I call the building manager and politely but STERNLY say: “she enters again we are calling the police”.
He hopes it won’t come to that. We do too.
We were already being moved but now I just want out NOW.

FUCKINGBITCHCUNTFACEWANTTOKILLHERDEADZOMEBIESHOULDEATHERBRAINS

I arrived back in Vancouver and it was STILL raining. The first person I saw was Mrs. E but honestly I had too good of a time and was way too excited to see Gus after sleeping with fatso Bear for a week to really give a shit.

adam got his hands on a display frame from the demolition site of a restaurant type place and made me a tribute to my scans. holy shit i was FLOORED and flattered and i feel so special. the back does not even come off the thing and he couldn’t find any scotch tape and used band-aids, it is hanging in the bedroom. ABC4 is the BEST MAN IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE.
i did say i would never post my bare breasts on my own site. seeing as every person who enters the apartment will now see my breasts [whether invited or not invited you cunty bitch mrs. e] i’m posting it. man.

i decided due to this tribute that i would do a new one. it has been a while. and what better thing to scan than my new belt buckle!!!! [the ninja will be on a break for a while]

basically, you can take the girl out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the girl. this is also a good indication of stories from the north to come.
i have never actually lived IN prince george but i have been going there since i was very young. i’m ACTUALLY from approximately 1000 kilometres further north and from two separate very small towns. even my closest friends in the city get blank looks on their faces for a few seconds when i ask them if they know which of the three towns i graduated high school in. most people just assume i’m from prince george. i did spend many a year growing up in the country doing similar work to the work i was doing over the last ten days so when i saw this belt buckle i knew i had to have it. i found it in the airport. it was meant to be, they were regularly thirty something dollars and i paid $14.06.

i’m going to catch up on your blogs now hopefully this ties you over until i’m done and can write you stories from the snowy north.
thanks for sticking around while i was away!

right now i am feeling excited like i get excited in the lineup at Star Tours.

this being a sequel, i thot it appropriate to make this episode a little darker.
the part of “shelley duvall” will be played by corinnagusgreeper.
bear is also featured as “the stain”.
now let’s pull the pin!

i hold the north in my hand. my power is boundless. i must travel…

yet, as i depart, i feel eyes on me. i must go now.

the speed is now my focus. i no longer exist outside it.

it is not my mind that betrays me, but my instincts. i feel the eyes.

i am vulnerable. i am too far to return…

i remember…. .. …. ..

they remember.. …… …. . . . .. . ::: ….. .

destiny darkens the room … . they descend….

the wood deals back the anguish…..

…and the stain…

this post has been brought to you by carnivores.

greetings from the control room.
as will become aparent in the following photage, mrs. corinnagusgreeper is taking care of business in Prince George. due to completely nepotistic reasons, i, abc4, am second in command. gus’s role is effectively ceremonial, and frankly, her typing skills are lacking. so by divine ordinance, here is a preview of the new “Travel PGBC” brochure… .. . .

that was a cold ride yo.

hello friends, come observe our wood wailing!

take that you! never mess with the liscumbs!

i am going to personally wail on all of you. do you believe me?

it does not matter, i will show you! stay off my property!!!

now go, and tell all of your wooden freinds that they are not welcome here.
you didn’t think we had a giant bunny either, but we do. and as for the carrot, well, there arent any brains on it because the giant bunny is hygenic like that.

and so on and so forth.

don’t worry, she’ll be back before i disgrace myself.

my original plan was to post this picture as a send off to the golf season. this picture is from the 2004 season. not that we didn�t get ANY shots this year but come on - the look on my face is priceless. i would venture a guess the only reason i missed that putt was because i was not yet in possession of my Odyssey.

but then last night while showering i was exfoliating the sometimes rough crocodile skin i get on my upper arms and i realized that this is the last hours i will be spending with my right upper arm as a bare right upper arm.
tomorrow at 2:30 i go in for the first sitting of my newest tattoo.
this isn�t just any tattoo.

this isn�t tigger when i was 18 and showing mild defiance. i say mild because it was tigger and although my parents had shown appropriate displeasure and disbelief that i was actually going to get a tattoo and never agreed with it, they never really gave me a hard time about it either.

this isn�t the three daisies circling my belly button
it was also done in Terrace, it took 15 minutes and it for serious didn�t hurt AT ALL.

this isn�t even close the most meaningful tattoo i have. the sun on my back. based on a drawing by sarah mclachlan. the face i had put in the middle is smirking because i have been told my facial expressions, at times can be near impossible to figure out. and i hate people who think they know me have me all figured out, and don�t.

if chad uses the entire space he mapped of my arm it will be pretty big. it is a two sitter for sure and two completely separate not small ‘things’. im filled with nervous excitement because i�ve never gotten anything this big and i�ve always wanted an arm tattoo.
a few days before my consultation in september i sent chad an extensive email with pictures of what it�s all about. thankfully he was interested and when we met for the consultation i took him lots of photos. IF by slim slim chance it is not exactly what i want, we�ll deal with that then.
im afraid if i try to explain what it�s going to look like on here i will not be able to do it justice, you�ll all just have to wait till i can either scan my arm or till the weekend when i may have access to a digital.
if i have to ask a stranger on the street to take a photo for you guys i will ok. i�ll do it. i�ll whore out my arm for you.

i will now call this shot: the last known photo of my bare upper right arm.

when i was making my final decision on what arm i was going to go with golf did come into account. the right works better for me in that when i�m teeing off everyone will be staring at it and i�ll be thinking about how everyone is staring at my kick ass tattoo (one part has a pink skull and cross bones as the body of a butterfly with eyes in the wings of the butterfly) and not about my shot.