movin'

Hey folks - I'm moving this ol' blog over to Wordpress.  Basically, I wanted to be able to allow for everyone to comment and also have the option of password protected posts.

The new home of Penny Loafers is: http://sheappearscomposed.wordpress.com/

I haven't written much on there yet and I'm still trying to tweak it a bit so it looks right purdy pour vous. 

Patience young grasshoppers.  Patience.

every person

Rediscovered John Frusciante last night on my walk home from the massage therapist.  It's been a while since I threw one of his albums on however, last night I scrolled past his name on my Zune and thought that I'd give him a whirl.  

Most people know the entire life story of Anthony Kiedis through his book 'Scar Tissue', however John has battled his down demons as well.  He was addicted to heroin and would spend weeks at a time, reclusive, in his own home.  John's drug addiction tore his body apart and he eventually had to replace all this teeth and turn his life around.

"I saw death in everything around me.  And everything was beautiful represented everything that was sad, lost and gone.  I was very confused.  I got it in my head that stardom was something that was bad and evil.  If you were a rock star,  you were trying to put people on"

I would suggest that if you are a RHCP fan and haven't listened to John's solo material, you definitely should.  The tracks 'Carvel', 'Every Person' and 'Time Goes Back' are, in my humble opinion, the strongest songs from the album Shadows Collide with People.  It mixes John's massive talent with a more laid-back sound than most RHCP albums.

Every Person - John Frusciante

You take me by the hand

A hands all I feel right now

It's all I am

It's all that I am

You think that I'm a man

I beg to differ

For I am her as much as I am me

You know tis moment in time

Is all my life

Everyday is each day that's passed

Every person alive is everyone who's died

...

blood: it's in me to... keep?

I had good intentions.

Mike and I made our appointments to give blood approximately 3 weeks ago.  On Tuesday's news, there was a segment which declared that Canadian Blood Services was very low on their reserves; approximately 40% below.  As a result, the clinic on Oak was quite busy with people hoping to help out with the need for blood donations.  I was quiet excited to give blood as it would be my very first time and I was sure I was eligible this time.

Finally:

• No tattoos in the past 6 months! (that was a biggie for me)
  
• No dentist appointments in the past 3 days.
  
• I was sure I was over the weight limit.
  
• Had my fingers crossed that my blood wouldn't test positive for anemia.
  

We enter the clinic, fill out our forms.  I step up to register and give my personal informaton.  She needs to prick my finger to test my iron levels.  A drop of blood is extracted and dropped into the copper sulfate solution to test for iron.  I failed that test as my blood did not sink to the bottom.  She takes another sample and places it into a machine assuring me that it is more accurate.  It beeps 'Finished' and I jokingly ask if I pass the test.  She says yes, but just barely.

Confidence levels soar!

I fill out the questionaire and wait to be taken into the screening room.  Mike and I are both grinning ear to ear.  Once in the screening room, the woman asks me several personal questions about my sexuality, drug use, etc.  She asks me if I am over 110lbs.  I momentairly stall thinking to myself 'Shit, I thought the weight limit was 100lbs which I was sure I was over'.  I slowly reply yes, and she raises her eyebrow.  She asks if I am sure and I say, 'Well, I think I am - I don't own a scale'.  On my sheet, she writes:

'Donor claims to be over 110lbs'

I chuckle to myself and exit the room to wait for the action portion of the evening.  Mike's number is called first and he hops up into his chair.  Anyone who knows Mike and his workout habits, would know that Mike loves the look of pumped up veins.  I knew that he would have no problems with giving blood.  I, on the otherhand, was a bit nervous.

I've had numerous blood extractions over the years and know that my veins are quite small.  I used to end up with the nurse jabbing me repeatedly until I discovered the secret butterfly needle which is generally used with children.  Now, as soon as I hop into the chair, I request it.  Of course, they do not have these needles at the clinic and the woman checks both arms for large enough veins.

"Well, I think this one will do"

She pumps up the arm cuff and tells me to look away.  After the familiar sting of the needle entering my skin,  I turn to look over to watch the rest.  I've always liked watching the blood rush into the collection tube.  This time, however, no blood.  She wiggles the needle a bit to see if it will flow.  Nothing.  Then, she tries to adjust the position of the needle while it is still in my arm.  I immediately felt woozy.  I couldn't get over the paining sensation that her adjustments were causing me.  She looks at me and ask how I feel.  I tell her that I feel woozy cos it hurts.  Immediately she yells 'Code 10' which I'm assuming means 'We have a pussy-assed fainter'.  The next thing I know, my chair is tilted back, I'm given two cold cloths and told to keep my eyes open.  I ask if we can try again but the woman declined and said that my veins were too small.

I failed!

After bandaids were applied to my wound, I was given some peach drink and rested for a while, embarrassed.  Mike had almost completed his donation session (which he brags about how he won at giving blood because it happened so fast) and we were told to sit down, have some more juice and a cookie.  My ego was bruised, along with my arm.  I think I will try one more time, in 56 days, only this time, I'm going to drink massive amounts of water to pump my veins up.

I may fail at giving blood but you won't!  Please give!  Go to the Canadian Blood Services website to book an appointment today!

december: brought to you by China

It's hard to escape things that are 'Made in China' but I would like to think that I make an effort in avoiding those products when possible.  Some of the more obvious reasons would be that the products are cheaply made and do not last, I do not support their treatment of animals nor their violation of the Human Rights Act regarding Tibetian treatment.  However, Mike and I have recently realized that China has literally taken over our home.  Even the Swedish company Ikea has their wood products manufactured in China.  All of our kitchenware, from pots to spoons, has been manufactured in China and it gets worse from there.  All of the effort that we put into shopping local seemed wasted when I realized that our home had so many items from China.  

Soon enough

Our trip to Canadian Tire yesteday was to pick up a tree stand for our Christmas Tree and to grab a few decorations to adorn our newest feature.  So we started sifting through the decorations and one-by-one, the same result was reached: Made in China.  Granted, I'm fully aware that Canadian Tire would not be the best place to grab Made in Canada (or anywhere else for that matter) products however we didn't come across a single tree ornament that was made outside of China.  So we pick-and-chose a few things so that our tree won't be completely bare, grabbed a sturdy tree stand (made in Canada thankfully and hopefully cat-proof) and headed home.

This invasion of my home sparked some interest so I began reading online what people have done to kick the Chinese habit.  Some vowed to never purchase Made in China products again.  Others kicked China out of the household for an entire year.  However with most people, especially those on a budget and with small kids, it is almost impossible to say no to China. 

Fortunately, Mike and I are in a position where we can afford to weed out the existing products as they kick the bucket and start replacing them with new ones.  We've already begun with ditching the Chinese plastic utensils that we own  and switching to bamboo.  When it is time to replace our grubby love seat, I'll no doubt turn to Canadian products made of soy-based foams and Earth-friendly fibres.  And that is the part that gets me excited!   

hanky panky

When I was at the EPIC 2008 conference and trade show last Spring, one of the products that stuck out amoungst the thousands of save-our-earth items was organic cotton handkerchiefs.  Now, I have no problem turning the water off in the shower while latering up, I can dodge fruit flies from our vermiculture compost bin, I even use re-usable Luna Pads during that time of the month however, I don't think that I'm quite ready to transition into using hankies.

Pretty... gross?

I do not have many memories of my grandfather, however I do remember him using a handkerchief.  He'd blow his honker into this ratty cloth and then stuff it back into his pocket.  I could remember being grossed out by this display and I was still at an age where my friends would eat worms on a dare! 

As I grow older and become more comfortable with who I am and what my morals are, I've been able to shake aside the convenience factor of many day-to-day tasks and opt for the more Earth-friendly choices.  Even simple things such as using a bagless vacuum: it can be a bit messier to clean however there is virtually no waste (especially if all that you're vacuuming is kitty dander & dirty carpets).  Last Spring, at a friend's wedding, I managed to acquire some napkins which have been put to good use since.  I feel guilty using paper towels for cleaning anything except messy spills on the floor, so our dish clothes get plenty of use as well.  

But the handkerchief, oh the handkerchief.  My achilles.  The thorn in my side.  The one thing that I can't dive deep into.  I try to take comfort knowing that tissues are biodegradable and that they're not that bad for the environment, but the thought of throwing them into the garbage (they accumulate too much in our small compost bin if thrown in) makes me feel bad.  If I ever were to start using them, I'd make them from cut up bedsheets, hemmed along the edges.  If that were to happen.  I doubt it will.

Is using a hanky too much for you? Does it cross the comfort zone? 

my desk at 9am

This is what my desk looked like at 9am this morning.  Looks like a recipe for disaster.  One cupcake courtesy of Alex's wife, one Tim Tam from the guy on the corner who hands out the Metro, a Sanpellegrino for lunch, a box of Dots gummy candies which I found on the floor by my desk (I swear, they were mine from Hallowe'en only just hiding!), a hair clip to fasten back my unruly locks and two Tylenols as my head has been aching on-and-off since I whammed it into a door on Monday.  You can also see my lovely green mug made from CORN plastic.  I know, you're jealous.

Here comes trouble!

today is the day

2pm today.  Sit.  Discuss.  See what my future holds.  I'm antsy, excited and slightly impatient.  It's been a long time coming but I have a postive outlook on what can and will happen with me.

It could be the Yule Spirit.  It could be the new kitten that Amy is getting tonight.  Maybe the visions of Robert Pattinson dancing in my head or the box of Christmas decorations sitting on my table, ready for placement.

Or maybe it is the mugs of hot chocolate with Baileys, or searching online for new apartments in Vancouver and Halifax.  There is a lot of change taking place.  I can feel it.

Walk it off.