"I got DOWN-Town..."

I hear that song in my head often now. You see, I am student community health nurse this semester and I am working with a population in the Downtown East Village. So far I have not really had much interaction with my community other then my initial assessment, mostly I have been dealing with other community leaders establishing a history of the area. Throughout this blog I have posted a few of the pictures from my walk around which touched me. Not necessarily because of its reflection on the community (although all of them are, some more then others), but just because they plucked at a resonant chord in my soul.

I am brave. I have been downtown BY MYSELF now many times. I have even navigated myself from Marlborough Mall all the way to University and then home using nothing but the transit and my UPass. For some, this would not be a big deal...for me = huge deal! I have only gotten lost once and had to call my wonderful husband for directions on how to find 7th Ave downtown Calgary (yah, the big street with the C-Train running down the middle of it!). I feel somehow that everytime I go downtown myself, dressed like a young professional that somehow I am inching forward to reaching my dreams, even though if you asked me I am not sure I could definitively explain what those dreams were. Do you know the feeling I am talking about though? That sense that you are pulling yourself forward, using all your strength while crushing your fingernails and bruising your knees but you are so happy because you know that it is worth it. It is worth it. Four words that can change your life you know?

Yes, this semester I am doggedly happy. I feel peace in my heart; below my clavicle and a little to the left a contended little sigh emerges which surprises me to know end (If that sigh was audible to anyone but my psyche...I promise I would see a cardiologist ASAP). Weird you know? After two years of University to only NOW really FEEL I am doing the right thing.

So I go "DOWN-town" I take a step further. I go "DOWN-town" I feel a mite better. I go "DOWN-town" and learn something, something, something I did not kno-oh-ow before.

"down-town"..."down-town"...

Heathenly spelling.

My apologies for my heathenish spelling in the last post. Obviously I had been dipping into the Buckley's far to much. For that I give myself the mark of the red pen, not unlike the mark of Zorro in that they are both marks...of something...but quite dissimilar in that they represent two very very different things.


Cheers for the evening, I will post more tomorrow!

Buckley's is the devil.

I have decided that nothing on this planet can taste quite as atrocious as Buckley's cough syrup. Answer me this: How can something be lemony, sweet, salty and mentholatumy all at the same time? It is just not natural. There is a reason why it works, it makes you scared to ever cough again because you will have to drink that liquid bile again. Do you want to know the worst part about it? The damn stuff actually works.

I have decided that if an elephant and a seal ever came together to produce offspring, it would sound exactly like I do today. I bark and I blow, snurf and snark, hack and cough. This flu has been one of epic phlegm proportions. Sound disgusting? Well it is. I feel so sorry for my husband who has to wake up in the morning and look at me. I accidentally turned on the onboard video cam on my new lappy this afternoon and screamed when I saw myself. What a horror! Red eyes, red nose, pasty white skin...oh it was not a good sight. Oh well, I guess everyone has to take their turn right? Right?

On to some more not so goocky stuff, I have decided that I like to paint my toenails. Growing up I never had the patience to wait for nails to dry before I set off on an adventure. Consequently I wound up with painted nails emedded with carpet fuzz, dog hair or lawn clippings (almost as an attractive thought as my snotty nose isn't it?). However, this summer I have vowed as part of the goal to start taking care of myself to keep painting my toes. Why painting my toes you may ask? Well, because every time I look down at me feet during they day, which is fairly often, I am surpirsed and think to myself; "Hey, my toesnails look cute in pink". How can you not be happy for five seconds when you think that? Honestly, if you can derive the smallest mote of happiness from something as inconsequential as painting ones toenails, then why on earth would you not do it more often? I think next time I am at the SuperStore I will look for a funky brown color and time how long it takes before one of the men in my house tell me I have "poop-toes".

Life is fun.

MacBook-a-licious

I am convinced that I have the sweetest husband. Ever.

You see, for two years now I have been attending the U of C as an undergrad in the Faculty of Nursing and have been using ye olde pen and paper the entire time. This semester I have my clinical practicum in community health and my group project is the largest to date. Pen and paper, although traditional, would have left my little fingers as nothing more then bloody little stumps by December.

This morning, my babe bought me a laptop. He knew that I wanted one but that I would never go and spend the money on myself. So he did. I am so thrilled and now I can blog wherever there is Wifi...which conveniently is the entire University campus.

So, in conclusion (yes, I do feel the need to announce my conclusion as poor writing etiquette as that may be) I would like to dedicate this blog to my husband, the love of my life, my soulmate and† best friend and now, my laptop guy.

A tip of my hat as I walk by...

I have a goal.

Expressions of my personality, pictures of my mind and descriptions of my heart.
Sound pretty far out? Perhaps, but as a firm believer in therapeutic writing this outlet shall be a safe haven for the simple scratchings of one woman in a beautiful world.

Are you interested? Stay tuned and I'll give you a tip of my hat as I walk by.