I can't even tell you how long I just searched the html code of this thing to figure out how to change my displayed age from 23 to 26. Given the year that was 23, it's no wonder I gave this thing up. No more prime numbers for this girl.

I don't know if I've re-found my blog voice, but I'd like to.

Am I doing this? Am I blogging again?


One night a little while ago I came home after a particularly long, trying day. I was surprised when my bedroom door was closed, as I usually leave it open during the day... Imagine my surprise when I opened my door only to find a man in my bed. And not just any man, but one who I've kinda had a crush on for a few years now... Someone strong, gentlemanly, a bit hot-tempered, but fiercely loyal. I think the best work to describe him would be... Magic.

Do you want to see a picture of him as I found him?


It turns out that blogging is like going to the gym. Once you get out of the habit, it's quite hard to fall back in. I'm headed back to the gym soon, so I figure I might as well give this a go too.

The biggest update on my life is that I have a job. More importantly, I have a job that I like, that's challenging, and that's in my field. I've only worked one day so far, so perhaps in six months the gloss will have faded, but right now I'm happy to be there. This particular job has also given me the opportunity to develop a plan of action to realize my grade 7 dream.

St. Patrick's Day was a nice day of not drinking for me. For the past 10 weeks I've been a weekend warrior, hitting George St. with a vengeance. Time for a break, and I have to say, I liked not being the drunkest girl in the room for a change.

What else can I tell you about...

I just got home from seeing V for Vendetta. I really liked it... Not very subtle, but interesting for sure. When I got back to my computer I looked up Guy Fawkes to refresh my memory. Some of my earliest memories are drinking hot chocolate at a bonfire on Guy Fawkes Night, and I was surprised to learn that Newfoundland is the only province in Canada that celebrates it.


I saw the Special K commercial about taking the "Special K Challenge" - lose 6lbs in 2 weeks by eating Special K for breakfast and lunch... I wasn't planning on taking the challenge exactly, but I thought I'd pick up a box and eat it instead of other snacky type things. I picked it up and Mike picked up Count Chocula. When we got it home, I started wondering about the differences in nutritional value. I asked Mike, and he noted that since Count Chocula only has one tooth, it is probably not that great for you. But when I compared the sides of the box, I figured out that there isn't really much difference in the nutritional benefits. So now I'm going to take the Count Chocula Challenge. I'll let you know how it goes.

I have been making an effort to go to the gym/eat better these past few weeks. The gym I go to is pretty small, not too many people go there. There is one girl, probably about 17, who is there everytime I'm there. She is always wearing the same outfit, a formfitting grey tracksuit with a matching cropped jacket, dangly silver earrings, perfectly scrunched hair, and a full face of makeup. Sometimes she mixes it up by putting a silver/white flower behind her ear. She usually talks on her cell phone as she does her cardio and never, ever breaks a sweat. Everytime I see her I feel like a slob - and also feel glad that I'm not 17 anymore.

Brother linked a cool site on his website, My Heritage. You upload pictures of yourself and it scans your face to tell you what celebrity you look like. I've been playing with it, and so far I look like:

Isabella Rossellini (69%)
Catherine Deneuve (70%)
Courteney Cox (72%)
Britney Spears (71%) - HA!
Christina Ricci (71%)

Enough time wasted for today I guess. Must go be productive somehow.


While avoiding a mountain of laundry, I found a link to BBC News 100 things we didn't know this time last year. My favourites include:

12. Until the 1940s rhubarb was considered a vegetable. It became a fruit when US customs officials, baffled by the foreign food, decided it should be classified according to the way it was eaten.

20. The Queen has never been on a computer, she told Bill Gates as she awarded him an honorary knighthood.

29. When faced with danger, the octopus can wrap six of its legs around its head to disguise itself as a fallen coconut shell and escape by walking backwards on the other two legs, scientists discovered.

37. Cyclist Lance Armstrong's heart is almost a third larger than the average man's.

52. You're 10 times more likely to be bitten by a human than a rat.

69. First-born children are less creative but more stable, while last-born are more promiscuous, says US research.

87. Pulling your foot out of quicksand takes a force equivalent to that needed to lift a medium-sized car.

98. Nettles growing on land where bodies are buried will reach a foot higher than those growing elsewhere.


Have you heard of Post Secret? It's a site where people send in postcards with their deepest, darkest secret and it is then posted on the internet for all to see. They range from funny to heartbreaking to disturbing. New postcards are added every Sunday, and there is usually an email or two posted that outlines the impact that a particular secret had on someone.

While I was home over Christmas, my Grandmother told me one of her secrets. Before she met my Grandfather, she was engaged to a man from Montreal. He fought in WW2 and was taken as a prisoner of war. She waited for him for five years, and he kept a picture of her with him all while he was in the POW camp. When he came back to Canada he wanted her to move to Montreal to marry him. For various reasons (ailing mother, difficulty crossing the border - this was before Newfoundland confederation), she couldn't go to him and his war injuries made it impossible for him to come to her. Eventually she met my Grandfather and married him, but on her wedding day she received a telegram from her soldier saying "you deserve better then the best". In a jealous fit some years later my Grandfather ripped up the telegram, her pictures of him, and the letters he had sent her. She said that often Pop will tell her she is the only woman he ever loved and that she can't honestly say that back to him.

I asked for his name to look him up on the internet, but she said she's already tried and can't find him. However, I'm pretty sure that my internet research (stalking) skills are better then hers.

Of course, if she had married him, I would never have existed and you wouldn't be reading this right now...


So it's 4am and I can't sleep. I was reading, then trying to sleep, but my mind wouldn't stop until I got out of bed and got everything I wanted to say out of my system. I was thinking about self-censorship and the problems it creates. Similar to a post recently on Electrolicious, where Ariel says "it's a constant balance between revealing too much and revealing so little that Elish becomes a ticker tape of Ariel events and not much else". When I first started this in 2003, there was much less me in it. It was mainly links to things I thought were interesting with a little bit of commentary/explanation from me. And back then, only a few co-workers read it. It was a competition to see who could get the most hits (through e-pimping, a whole other story). Over time, there have been less and less links and more and more me. Which was fine, but then I found out my Dad read it (when he called to say "please don't use the word fuck on your website") and then later that an employer had read it. With this in mind over time, I really thought hard about what I said. I don't think my father or my former boss is a regular reader (ha - with the infrequency of my updates, I'd say the title regular reader could only apply to the other Pixie) but I'm still careful with the stories I tell here.

One solution would be to have a password protected diaryland account, but I don't want to do that either. Occasionally I've gotten emails from people (strangers) after they've read something I wrote and it is cool to know that someone thought enough of what I said to take the time to email. And it's always flattering (and a bit strange too) when someone I know tells me they've read it.

Somehow, my real diary has suffered the most. It's barely 10 pages in, and I've had it for about a year and a half. Which is too bad since I've kept a written journal since grade eight and now the past few years are a virtual blank, with the exception of a few entries or the random things I've posted here.

Often I think I should write about something, but when I sit down to actually do it, the words just aren't there. I start a post then end up closing the window because I can't make the words sound right. The point of a blog is to have an outlet, a form of expression... But if you find yourself censoring yourself, what is the point?

Of course, as Olin Miller said, "you probably wouldn't worry about what people think of you if you could know how seldom they do."

With that in mind... I think I'll just write for myself, say fuck if I want to, and appreciate it when someone tells me that they read my blog.

And here we are, 2006.

I've always thought that the whole New Years thing was overrated. There is no discernible change in weather or anything else to signal that we're in a new year. If there is a change or resolution in your life you want to make, January 1 seems like the worst possible time to do it. The build up to the Christmas season has undoubtedly passed, the days are short, and personally I find the urge to hibernate this time of year to be pretty unavoidable. I think the New Year should start in the spring. Days are longer, warmer, and you can see the world waking up around you. The cold, dark winter should be for introspection - figure out what is good in your life, what is bad, and what you should do to change it.

But this year I have to admit, I'm caught in the New Year hype. A brand new start, an opportunity to make this year the best it can be. This includes a number of resolutions - hopefully I won't have forgotten them by March. This includes (but is not limited to):

... paying less attention to pop culture. Paris Hilton is rotting my brain.
... paying more attention to issues in local, national, and international media.
... seeking out different media sources.
... [sometimes] avoiding the urge to curl up with a book rather then go out.
... getting back into an exercise routine. Jogging, weight training, Paula Abdul's Cardio Dance, pilates, Carmen Electra's Aerobic Striptease - ANYTHING.
... getting serious about finding a job.
... seeing more live music.

If the winter blues are starting to get to you already, check out the SNL Lazy Sunday skit ... Also known as the Chronic(what)-cles of Narnia rap.

It's one of the funniest things I've seen in a long, long time.