My dad has been asking me all week if I would come in and sing with his bank's choir group. Since he never made it clear that they had asked me to come, I refused several times. I wasn't going to show up and crash the party. Then his assistant called and personally invited me to join in the fun.

I meant to go home and put something pretty on before serenading seniors, but my mom and I got trapped by various talkative shopkeepers and I arrived at the bank in a paint-covered hoodie, jeans and hiking boots (yes I transform into this person while in the country). My fellow carolers were all spiffed up in christmas sweaters and ribbons. They had a song book waiting for me. Under sunbeams filtering through seasonal window paintings, these ladies transformed a plain old bank into the sweetest atmosphere I've seen in a while.

Aided by a mini-keyboard, we huddled together in the centre of the building and busted out the usual holiday favourites. The customers were bewildered, yes, but pleased. They got me to sing "O holy night" and though my rendition will never compete with the drunken, 8-verse long epic performed by my comrades in a GTs basement, it's still my most beloved carol. Upon request, I decided to sing a Christmas tune that Jennie and I jokingly wrote a few weeks back, which went over well until I hit the chorus: "Christmas time in an Irish pub"...

One lady grabbed my hands and said "You don't know how much that meant to me" and walked away crying. I was happy but I hope I didn't upset her...

So wouldn't you know it, I'm going back tomorrow for the "Afternoon performance" and then to a Christmas eve service at a church. I don't know much about Church festivities, so anyone feel free to pass on any ettiqutte I may need to know..hmmm.

I am so charmed by some of the people I've met up here. Although Owen Sound has MORE than its fair share of characters...



it is also home to some of the sweetest people I've met.

mysterious new moon rising

Tomorrow is the winter solstice. I've been buried in books for a while now--both for school and fun--but I can still feel a change in the air. Is it the turning of the season, the breath-holding before a final semester, monthly fluctuations or is there something else...different?

Lately I've been struggling with this blog. I love writing so much that if my thoughts aren't transcribed onto a page, they don't know where to go. I would tell you everything, but it wouldn't feel right. I am a firm believer in the idea of a sacred space for some thoughts, for secrets. I am not a "daily me" blogger, and yet I apparently am, right this minute.

What I mean is, this is a public space and I want to share but how can you explain the in-between-updates moments where you haven't done anything remarkable or scandalous? Some periods of time lend themselves best to silence, or at the very least, to privacy.

If there's ever a post for anyone to relate to though, maybe it is this one. Since blogging has caught on, it seems like every baby step of our lives is thrown online. Passing comments, funny incidents, regrettable actions, social critiques are translated into a blog-able format (which often means enhancing or misrepresenting what actually happened) and archived into a chronological, quasi-interactive "journal".

When we sum up, stretch or sexify our stories we place them in a strange context. We publicly rewrite our own histories, and engage friends and strangers to join as we immortalize things that may not have happened as we blogged. No one wants an empty comments section, bloggers want to stay in the sphere of interest, so we feel pressured to post at certain intervals. If we fall behind, we are not only disappointing our audiences, but almost betraying the increasingly common practice of recording our lives as they unfold.

It also seems to me that we even choose situations and behave in ways that are blog-able, that will make great stories and rake in the hits. We catch up with eachother by clicking on our links, as we see eachother less. That's what blogs are also wonderful for though: keeping in touch. Hell, I managed to show you all a piece of my life in Tanzania. Who am I to bemoan blogging? It opens up glimpses into new worlds and it keeps loved ones in touch when face-to-face contact is not possible.

But when face-to-face contact is available, we are still connecting via blogs. I love this and I hate it. I love being able to know what everyone is "up to" but would much rather see them in person. I want to hear the real stories, or watch them happen, to share experiences with people rather than read...

But we're growing up and gradually diffusing into the world. If I can't see everyone, at least I can "watch" as some of the most talented, sincere and phenomenal friends I have venture out to carve their places in the world. Their blogs will tell me the way things are happening to them, personally. That, I look forward to.

On another note, it is the break and it's been awfully pretty up here.


The Festival of Northern Lights






snow monsters







Peace for a few!

In the wake of Aids Awareness week

If anyone wants to give a different kind of christmas gift this year...

I built a website all about Tanzania for my MIT web design class. Please check it out HERE if you want to see some pics, read some info and find out how you can make a realistic contribution to my friends in good old Mwanza.

In other news, christmas parties and tacky sweaters are just around the bend.

I've been hearing lots of praise for RENT:the movie and can't believe that I'm pretty much the last one to see it. I know Rob Stewart is "planning to see it weekly," so I can count on him as a companion. Is anyone else up for it post-tuesday next week?

Alright, back to work, all of you!