mlle. h. bean

Isn't it disarming how calm Salam Pax sounds? He talks about the bombing of his city like it will someday end (which is I suppose true), but part of me wonders, "Why isn't he getting the heck out?" Then again, I have no idea what his experience is like, since he was there during the first war and knows what it is like to live in a city being air-raided. Maybe you don't feel some animal desire to get yourself out of there as quick as can be. Maybe some semblances of life go on amidst the bombs. Then again, maybe there's just nowhere to go or no money to go with. But he has Internet: surely he must have some means. Ah, the mystery that is Salam Pax.

Euphemisms about the war alternately make my blood boil or make me laugh out loud at how ludicrous they are. This is Bush at a press conference spinning off a few. You also get yet another still shot of the Bushman looking very stoic and intellectual, mostly because his mouth is shut. And this is of course that infamous shot the BBC accidentally took of him, which it apologized for profusely afterwards. They wouldn't want their offices bombed or anything.

***

Decisions, decisions. Uni? Travel? Another kind of travel? I'm so unsure, which means "Wait a little longer", and I plan to. I have inklings, and ribbons of ideas beginning. I know I would love to immerse myself in the study of history. I know that I want to make some sort of difference, and live a sustainable life, so to those ends I want to do as much WWOOFing as possible, and learn about the options available to organic farmers. I also want to work with Deanie during the summers if I go to university, and learn more about the making of pottery.

I've been told so often that at some point the right path will open up to me, and I know from the past that it does. I also know that so much of life is impossible for me to plan, and that knowing how to ride the wave of it all is the best thing. And this metaphor from a girl who's never surfed; pshaw!

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One month and counting down. I still have lentils, couscous, rice, linguine, cornmeal, flour, all sorts of things in my cupboards that I haven't eaten most of. Whatever's left over (and there will be lots no matter what I do) I will give to Sarah and Will. I think I'll begin, tomorrow, going through all my clothes and seeing what I want to give away, what I want to mail home, what I want to take with me travelling. This is so exciting that I can't help but write about it in the blog.

The snow on the mountains here continues to amaze me. The views are never boring; they're the kind you could just look at all day, every now and then murmuring to whoever's with you, "Would you look at that." I've discovered lots of things while being here in Whistler; learned from nannying (all kinds of things about family), the pie shop (how to roll with the punches and do your best and accept the rest), about boys (need I name names? I don't think so) and most of all (from all of these) about self and well-being. I feel so confident these days being single and really learning to love myself. Does that sound hokey? Oh well. I don't feel the need to go out with anyone, although this town with its 5:1 ratio sure offers up temptation. Did you ever think you'd hear me say there are too many boys, and they're all too cute? Maybe I'll become a nun. Har har har. That'll be the day.