do your jeans hang low?

This certainly would have put a damper on all those Kris Kross lip-synchs of our youth.

I find the sight of a young man's boxers as offensive as any other woman of good taste, but does it really call for legislation?

And really, how low is too low? I wonder: will they be as stringent when Britney decides to pay a visit to her home state?

finally

Received a long-awaited phone call this afternoon that had me singing over a pot of risotto this evening: the start date of my new job!

I've known for some time that the job is mine, but pesky things like background checks take soooo long over here. The good folks at Aberdeen College (my new employer) have decided to throw caution to the wind and have me start before the results come in, that is, this Tuesday. Good thing I've been so meticulous at covering up my sordid past ;)

For those who don't know (most of you), I'm going back to my roots as a Communications Coordinator for the College's Community Education program. It's only part time, so on Monday I interview for an entirely different sort of part time position (one with great perks). I'll keep y'all posted on that.

good things

+ green tea langues de chat - making me wish our rental flat came with bake ware.

+ beyondrobson.com is fostering my belief that there's no place like home. All I need is a pair of ruby slippers.

+ really, really beautiful letter pressed identity kits and wedding invites at Good On Paper (I picked up some of her note cards at an Edinburgh gallery last week).

+ behind the scenes of J.Crew's most recent catalogue shoot, dans Paris (via Alissa). Tres beaux.

The Highland Tour - part II

[just want photos? click here]

Day 3 - Loch YES!

We woke up in Fort William and braved a full Scottish Breakfast. Dianna choked down her back pudding while Dean went for the haggis after seeing me devour a plate of haggis, neeps & tatties the night before... that is, haggis with mashed turnips (not parsnips, oops!) and potatoes. sheesh, get your minds out of the gutter!

Good thing we were well nourished. That morning we set out to climb the highest peak in Scotland. Okay, so we only did the base of Ben Nevis, but it was so lovely we wished we'd planned to do the entire 6 hour hike. Instead we ventured north and spent the day cruising alongside famous Loch Ness and visiting some famous backdrops for the Harry Potter movies.




Dianna was determined to spot the Loch Ness Monster along the way, but MAN, those waters are black! I'm sure Nessie was quietly following us along the shore and we just couldn't see her.

We stopped midday to stretch our legs at one of Scotland's most infamous and photographed castles, Urquhart.



Inverness proved picturesque with an international flair, but was bustling with Runriggers (concert-goers, that is) so we were happy to fianlly check into our urban oasis, the Marriott. Our $400/night suite did not disappoint... initially. Finding a massive studio with a king size bed, 2 bathrooms and patio alongside a worldclass golf course, we figured we'd done quite well for ourselves. That is until Dianna discovered HER room—a glorified closet with two sets of bunk beds. oops.

That evening we met Sabrina, direct from London, at the Inverness train station and had a chill evening of Indian cuisine, indoor hottubbing and British mags.


Day 4 - Fruity passions and other highland failures

The next day Dianna was still harbouring high hopes of a Nessie encounter so the four of us ventured a step closer to monster territory with a wee Loch Ness boat cruise, which included another visit to Urquhart and an embarassing amount of rain (they call this summer?!) but alas, no Nessie.





Thoroughly drenched we opted out of a day in the city and found something off the beaten path—a castle-turned-winery with such unusual options as cherry wine (cough syrup anyone?), silver birch wine and good old fashioned mead (Beowulf's beverage of choice).

A home video introduced us to the castle's history—wherein some would-be actors depicted a sordid past of war, betrayal and incest. Fortunately, somewhere in the 19th century those darker passions, we were informed, gave way to "fruity passions!" Thus, Dean's newest catchphrase was born. The fruit wine was bad, but the unlimited tasting warmed us up and I couldn't turn down the novelty of purchasing a bottle of elderflower wine.

Onward to Culloden Battlefield where the last battle was fought on British soil and Bonnie Prince Charlie, a charming but ineffective Jacobite prince, lost 1200 men in 45 minutes (so much for Scottish independence). The site was equally dismal for us: soaked to the skin just to see a pile of rocks :(



We skipped the tour and moved on to our next destination, the small city of Elgin where we supped on a local dish: Cullen Skink. Fun to say, no? Cullen Skink! Actually just a soup of smoked fish and potatoes, we enjoyed talking about it more than actually eating it.


Finding a pub after dinner proved difficult and we finally stumbled upon the Ionic Bar. I liked the name and was tired of standing in the rain. We opened the door and I'm quite sure the music instantly stopped. I can say for sure that every head in the room turned towards us and the only sound was an 8-ball sinking into a pocket as all conversation came to a halt. It was a classic "you're-not-from-these-parts" movie scene, but I was determined to not let the locals get the better of me. I stepped up to the bar, placed my order and prayed that the scary men stopped sending menacing looks at Dean.


We made it out alive, but never fully at ease, after one drink and called it an early night.

Day 5 - Birthday hops

Poor pub selection aside, Elgin is actually a nice town. We spent the morning at its claim to fame, a stunning riverside cathedral, left in ruins by the reformation.




We then headed inland along the malt whisky trail to the Disneyland of Scotch: the Glenfiddich distillery.




Our final stop of the day was Slains castle — a breathtaking cliffside manor steeped in mystery and mud. An hour long treck slipping and sliding along a ravine led us there, but the payoff was well worth the efforts of travel. Brahm Stoker wrote Dracula in a room here. There is some talk of the owner converting the ruins to luxury flats... we'd be inclined to snatch one up :)





At the end of the day my twin sis and I celebrated 27 years well-lived, in the company of good friends in Abderdeen.

Thus the tour ends. Regular programming will return shortly.

me bits and me bobs

the rest of the Highland tour is coming, but first, some bits

1. Di left Aberdeen early this morning (and she only forgot to pack one thing!). We spent yesterday in Edinburgh, taking advantage of the Festival while we still could, and appreciating some bonafide summer weather.

On our last visit to Edinburgh, one of the few flyers I didn't wave away ACTUALLY looked interesting enough to keep: Partly because of the topic— "Growing up Games—a bard's eye view of grown up life" (clever, no?). Partly because the performer looked like someone I'd want to be friends with (surely the greatest compliment one can offer!). And partly because of the genre—stand-up poetry. Sister Dear agreed and indeed, we two wordies guffawed the entire way through her performance, which included songs about the merits of living in a corridor, a spinsta' rap and an ode to a Kenwood mixer accompanied by disco lights. Nice.

If you are anywhere near Edinburgh in the Festival's remaining week, by all means, go hear Jude Simpson perform. She's fantastically good.

2. Dean and I just booked a trip to London for early September. He's presenting at a conference (smarty pants) and I am going to soak up my favourite London haunt and try to avoid the Oxford/Picadilly/Covent Garden scene in favour of some sights off the touristy track. Very much looking forward to another service at HTB as well.

3. The job at Aberdeen College doesn't start for at least another two weeks while they complete a very thorough "disclosure" check. Perhaps it's a sign that it's time to get back to my writing? I've been having bursts of inspiration, but until now, no time alone.

4. Aberdeen really is starting to feel like home. We had a gang over for scotch and chat on tuesday night, I picked up a few more things at Habitat yesterday, and our mug collection has doubled in a week (thanks Di!)—all good homey things. But you guys have GOT to stop posting pictures of summer in Vancouver. I'm getting really jealous.

5. I've been reconnecting with my Canon AE1-Program and am again infatuated with film photography. If anyone's wondering, a Lomo would make a great Christmas present.

The Highland Tour - Part I

the Foretaste:

Before embarking on our five day highland adventure, I took twin sis a few miles south of Aberdeen for her first taste of Scottish sights. Stonehaven is a favourite spot of mine and Dean's and I figured Di would be equally enchanted. I'm pretty sure she was, though she was also quite pleased to expand the reach of her non-profit organization, Donuts Without Borders.




Day 1 - Heading West:

From Aberdeen, to Dundee, Perth and straight across to the western shores of Oban, Dean and I both got our first shot at driving lefty. Our little VW Golf purred along in spite of a few run-ins with the curb and all in all we learned quickly and made nice with many a narrow road. Plus, we saw some pretty things along the way.





We found Oban in the midst of an early winter and it began to dawn on us that we mayn't have dressed fittingly for the next leg of our journey. This became totally clear once off the ferry and onto the Isle of Mull—when we discovered that our "hostel-like Shieling accomoation" was actually nothing more than a tent with a tile floor.




So what do you do on a freezing stormy night on Mull when you have only a canvas jacket to keep you warm? You find the nearest/only pub and enjoy a few pints and steamy cheese-laden pepperoni pizza. If you're really lucky, you may even sing along to the Bonnie Banks o' Loch Lomond.

Day 2 - Island Mishaps

Shielings are only warm if you squish 2 people and 6 blankets on one miniscule bed, so while we Regiers woke up toasty, Dianna had to be resuscitated. When we arrived at the bus station at 10am, we were 1.5 hours late for the only public bus to Iona, so we had to reevaluate our plans for the day and opted to bus to the northern tip of Mull, Tobermory and see what it had to offer. Turns out not much, but it did manage to catch a speck of the sunshine which seems to be eluding the rest of Scotland.


Back at the ferry terminal the storm was still raging. We joined the long line of tourists whose serene, blessed faces revealed that THEY didn't miss the bus to Iona. We pushed and squeezed our way onto the CalMac ferry out of the rain (who's serene now, suckers?) and somehow lost Dianna in the mayhem.

We combed the boat and after an extensive search found her on the lower deck looking sheepish. Turns out she'd be conducting a similar search for us and, thanks to the rain, managed to lose her footing at the top of a set of metal stairs and tumble down the entire flight, saved from a head injury thanks only to her backpack.

Tired, wet, and bruised, we pressed onward to the next destination, Fort William, the Whistler of Scotland, home to the nation's highest peak, Ben Nevis. Imagine our relief to discover the B&B we booked looked like this:


and had a view like this:


The beds were hard and springy, but the classic mid-century furniture in this converted rectory and choir school house more than compensated.