La Lune

I see the moon and the moon sees me and the moon sees somebody I want to see.

Lately I’ve become entranced with the moon. I love how it lights up the night and how it morphs into different shapes yet still remains the same. Waxing and waning. Crescent and gibbous. The sun is always the same. It gives us light, life, and even energy. The moon is different though. It doesn’t require attention. It’s just there. Sometimes it comes out even when it’s not supposed to. Have you ever looked up on a clear day and seen the moon faintly making an appearance? Like it’s always watching over us.

The moon kind of reminds me of the Underworld in Greek mythology. Everyone thinks of Hades and the Underworld as evil or interchangeable with hell. But I don’t really think that was the case. The Underworld was simply where people went when they died. Everyone went there. No exclusions. It wasn’t a bad place at all. But since the myth was painted with a dark undertone, people translate it as a dark place. Because the sun is always associated with light and good it makes sense that the moon would be paired with darkness and even a wicked vibe. But I think the moon gets a bad rap sometimes.

Even though our moon can’t make flowers grow or supply us with a source of vitamins, it has other, equally impressive powers. For example, old Luna can control the ocean’s tide. Whenever I spend a week at the beach with my mom she always asks the life guard what time high tide is. It’s different every day because the moon goes through a different phase each day. 

The moon can also control our personality. The word lunatic gets it’s root from our nightlight. My parents both used to work in a mental health facility and they said that anytime the patients started acting a little bit over the top, they would look out the window and see a full moon staring back at them.

We can even walk on the moon if our heart so desires. And if you have millions of dollars combined with the permission of NASA. For those of us without those means, we can just moon walk down the aisles of the grocery store (the best place to practice). The sun never provides us with dance moves or a place to travel.

Have you ever read the book Goodnight Moon? It’s not a very challenging read, but it’s a classic. The little boy I used to babysit liked to read that one with me. I think the moon is a comfort. It’s always there to tuck us in at night. And everyone sees the same moon. No one really says that about the sun. You can’t look straight into the sun. But the moon will just calmly hang in the sky.

There was a rare ‘blood moon’ eclipse the other night. Did you see it? 

Unintentional Wanderlust

I have always liked the idea of wanderlust. Having that moment in life where you’re free to choose any path you like–opening up doors to meet new people, learn new things, and find places that feel right. It’s a great thing to be able to wander and it’s even greater to have a lust for it. A lust for life, really.

I’ve always loved traveling and experiencing new cultures and meeting people. I especially like traveling with other people so I can share my experiences with someone and because I like having someone to laugh with. Being insanely lucky in life, I’ve managed to fall into most of my adventures.

My high school choir was pretty successful. I am aware how extremely lame it is that I was part of such an activity, but it brought me to some amazing places. In one school year, we were invited to compete in Italy, sing for the Austrian president in Vienna, and join a handful of other choirs to perform in the Sydney opera house. Needless to say, after those trips, I had the travel bug.

Instead of going to university somewhere close to home, I went to a school in Northern Utah surrounded by mountains and not much else. It was totally different from what I was used to. I met a lot of great people there. It felt refreshing to live somewhere new.

A couple of years later I decided to study abroad in Canterbury, U.K. and instead of staying there for 3 months, I stayed there for 3 years and finished my history degree. Canterbury was my happy place. London became my favorite city. And I managed to hop over to Edinburgh, Paris, and Oslo while I was studying. I also met some of my favorite people in Canterbury, one of them being my husband.

After getting married, I moved to a Canadian town that I knew nothing about. It’s bizarre that I wasn’t even looking to travel during most of these moments, but I found myself in situations that led me down these paths. Most of my experiences were extremely good. There have always been bad and scary scenarios but I feel like those things happen when you step outside of your comfort zone. I always look at the big picture, and as a whole, my life has been pretty great. No complaints.

I like that everyone’s journey in life is different. Some people never leave their home state and others travel outside of our planet’s atmosphere. I have been given much, and therefore I feel like much is expected of me. I expect much of myself.

Our world is pretty small. Wandering and living life to the fullest is the best thing we can do with our short time here. I saw this video the other day and it made me think about our sweet little planet and how much it’s given us.

This post has been inspired by The Duck and The Owl’s Theme Week

Saving the World

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. I’m not saving the world. But I’m definitely saving Victoria’s ass big time. I’ve already helped people in need thrice this week. Do I need to purchase a cape or what?

A couple of days ago I was shopping in Walmart (gross, I know). I chose an express line and the old man in front of me kept turning around and staring at me. Assuming it was just another Walmart psycho, I chose to ignore him and put my sausages, peppers, carrots, and hummus (the essentials) on the conveyor belt.

When the guy in front of me turned around to face the cashier, I noticed that he had a packet of cheese in his back pocket. Like, an $8 block of cheese. He was completely rung up and about to pay when I tapped him on the shoulder and said “Don’t forget the cheese in your pocket!” He reached back, laughed and pulled it out and paid for it.

Afterwards the cashier was about to kiss my feet or something, she was so grateful. The best part was when I reached down to grab my groceries, I saw that the man in front of me forgot his other bag to which the cashier said, “Karma!” He must have been very flustered.

*There was originally part of me that thought he might have forgotten the cheese and wasn’t trying to steal it but then I realized, who would put cheese into their back pocket instead of into their cart with the rest of their food? I also thought he was going to beat me up in the parking lot or follow me home so I laced my keys between my finger and took a weird route home. The things I do in order to stop thievery.

The next day I was walking downtown when two Asian tourists flagged me down. They were holding their luggage and looking super confused. They had a map with their hotel circled on it and asked if I knew where it was in broken English. I said yes, and gave them directions but since I was walking that way anyway, I told them to follow me and I would take them there.

I had a little chat with them and found out they were coming from California and just visiting for pleasure. They said the city was very beautiful (even though it was a little cloudy) which was cute. All in all they were super grateful that I was able to guide them to their destination. Just doing my civic duty.

On the same day, as I was walking home, a biker stopped and asked me for directions and I pointed him in the right way. Not a super big deal, but if it wasn’t for me he probably would’ve gotten lost and died. So what I’m trying to say is that Victoria needs to erect a statue of me pronto.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

I have been having a ball “witch hunting” recently. Oh, what? You don’t witch hunt? Well, I’ve always had a thing for history and learning about different religions, cultures, and societies both ancient and modern. When I was in university I took a Women in History class and there was a segment on witches that I fell in love with.

The idea of witches/Wiccans/Satanists has been around since the biblical ages. Many scripts warn people of witches or those who practice Black Magic and say that any act of that sort is punishable by death. In early Europe though, especially in the UK and Ireland, peeps got a little carried away with this instruction causing tens of thousands of executions. It was especially scary if you happened to be born a woman and did anything out of the ordinary. Depending on how harsh your fellow townspeople were, you could be in danger of being called a witch if you had red hair or laughed in public. Or even if you were widowed.

This kind of behavior made it easy for men and women alike to accuse almost anyone of being Satan’s mistress. Often times if a fellow member of society didn’t like someone, they could say something like, “When she looked at me, her eyes pierced through my soul!” and bam–they were a considered a witch. It was a game of one person’s word against another’s.

Most people know how these medieval communities would judge if someone was a witch. It was pretty gruesome. Basically, the belief was, if you were a practicing witch, you wouldn’t be able to feel any pain or at least wouldn’t be capable of showing that you were hurt. It was also believed that witches couldn’t drown, so of course the easiest way to test this would be to hold suspects under water and if they drowned–congrats! They weren’t a witch! And if they didn’t, they would be put to death. A win/win really.

That’s not to say all women accused of such crimes weren’t practicing witchcraft. Some were. There have been accounts (some true, most probably false) of covens or circles of women that would meet in the forest at night, naked, sacrificing animals or even dead human children to Satan. Spooky stuff. There were also a handful of women who confessed to being witches in early modern Europe.

Most witches, but not all, had a vast knowledge about nature and the human body. Midwives who tried different techniques for removing children from their mother’s womb had to be careful not to be accused of magik. Same with those who had a keen sense of herbs, spices, and anything from the apothecary. This seems stereotypical but many witches, even today’s modern Wiccans have a profound knowledge of such things, as well as crystals, stones, and many animal and insect species.

Of course the scare of witches has moved all around the world. One of the biggest, most common hunts was in Salem, Massachusetts from 1692-93. This was a particularly popular case because there was mass hysteria and the public actually held court room trials about it.

You wouldn’t believe my excitement when I started to research witches/Wiccans in Victoria, B.C. (where I live now) and the results showed that it held, at one point, the highest population of witches in North America. Of course I quickly grabbed my purse and ran out the door to find out more about the topic. I went to a used book store and found their Wicca/witchcraft/occult section. I was looking more for a history of witches in B.C., but only found a lot of how-to books. Which were still amazingly cool.

I asked about a book that is out of print called Michelle Remembers. Every time I asked about it, people gave me a weird look and smile like, “Ohh you’re into that stuff?” Apparently this book is the maybe-true-maybe-false story of a girl who lived in Victoria that had insane night terrors to the point where she would find herself  awake and screaming. She visited a psychologist who used hypnosis to find out the root of her problem. Apparently when she was younger, she was abused in satanic rituals. Super creepy. The book is out of print and impossible to find. But I’m on a waiting list for it. My husband of course has not only read it, but also been to the house where she lived. It’s been knocked down but the address numbers used to be 666. Spooooky! I feel like I’m telling ghost stories right now.

On my journey I visited a couple stores that focus on the metaphysical world. Both had a wide selection of books, but none on the history of witchcraft in general or in Victoria. And both had many crystals for sale. Recently I purchased a quartz crystal pendant, which not only looks chic, but also gives me power, energy, and clarity. Jus’ sayin’!

I was super intrigued when I visited a store in Fan Tan Alley (a 4 foot-wide alleyway downtown that people used to visit during the 19th century to illegally gamble, drink, and do other things…) called Triple Spiral where I talked to a woman about classes that I could take to learn about witchcraft/Wicca/occult magik. You even get to create your own spells and rituals! So cray cray. I guess it’s taught by some of the high priestesses in town and is supposed to be a great series of classes. It’s out of my price range though. How cool is it that they offer that kind of thing?

Lastly, here are some ways you can add a touch of witchy wonder to your drab, everyday life:

Listen to:

“Rihannon” by Fleetwood Mac

“Season of the Witch” by Donovan

“Wicked Annabella” by The Kinks

“Black Magic Woman” by Santana

“Witchy Woman” by The Eagles

“Wicked Witch” by Lene Lovich

“A Witch’s Promise” by Jethro Tull

Read:

The Crucible by Arthur Miller

Michelle Remembers by Michelle Smith and Lawrence Pazder

The Witch Hunt in Early Modern Europe by Brian P. Levack

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft by Denise Zimmerman

The Crystal Bible by Judy Hall

Apply:

Wicked nail polish by Essie

Black Shatter nail polish by OPI

Magic Spell Juicy Tube by Lancome

Ceridwen’s Cauldron bath melt by Lush

Magic Ink liquid eyeliner by Benefit

Watch:

The Witches (1990)

Practical Magic (1998)

The Wizard of Oz (1939)

American Horror Story: The Coven (FX 2013)

Watch Ironically:

Hocus Pocus (1993)

Harry Potter (2001)

Theater:

Wicked: The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Eat/Drink/Smoke:

Soups

Tea

Poison (or regular) apples

Spices

Clove cigarettes

Wear:

Crystal pendants

Vintage Rings

Lots o’ black

Lace-up boots

Long billowy skirts or dresses

Opium by Yves Saint Laurent

Midnight Poison by Dior

Visit:

Cemetaries

Underground tunnels

Ghost Tours

Things I Miss About England

It’s been 2 years since I’ve been to jolly old England and I miss it dearly. I miss my friends, I miss the cozy rainy days (kinda), and I even kind of miss being in school and writing stupid essays the night before they were due. That country gave me 3 great years and I was totally ready to spend the rest of my life back in North America…and now I miss it again 😦

Kebabs/Indian food. 

O my G. I miss these foods so much. I mean, yeah we have some good Indian places in the States and in Canada, but you could get the cheapest, spiciest, butteriest Indian food in England. So yum. I have so many memories of getting kebabs at midnight with my friends. Waiting for our meat to be sliced and put in a pita, telling the men who worked there that we needed extra garlic sauce. They would smile, we would drool. Life was good.

Pounds, Pence, and Candy.

Don’t you love the chunkiness of a pound coin? They are awesome. Just when I would think I ran out of money, I would open up my change compartment in my wallet and find about 7 pound coins. It would feel like Christmas. I would spend most of that change on candy. England has the most candy ever. They have candy stores everywhere and pic ‘n mix stations in every grocery store and movie theater. I basically only ate candy for 3 months and my skin broke out and my nails grew really long and thick. It was the scariest thing ever.

Cobblestone Roads and Quaint Cottages.

Not sure about the pose. In The Cotswolds.

I’m glad I didn’t spend my time living in London because I got to experience more of real life that way. Canterbury was a gem among the boring Kent towns. There was a small town vibe, a bustling High Street, and history everywhere you looked. I loved walking past the dilapidated buildings, the old wooden beams that held up the modern Subway sandwich place. The cobblestone roads set the scene while making the town an obstacle course for freshman going out in their 6 inch heels. So many broken ankles. So much fun.

Pub Life.

Literally living in pubs before, during, and after school.

London.

Der.

New Stuff

Lets play catch up! Some cool new things are happenin’ over here and I feel like I should share. You guys like knowing about my life, right? RIGHT?!

I can’t remember if I told you guys or not, but we saved up our precious dollars and bought a couch. Since Paul and I didn’t live together before we got married, we didn’t have a lot of furniture to our name. We got a lot of hand-me-downs, thanks to our parents, and kind of pieced things together. Now, don’t get me wrong. We were very lucky that Paul’s mom had an extra couch laying around for us. BUT it was purchased in 1976 and had a floral pattern with a green background. ‘Nuff said. The cushions were pretty shot. But it was a good friend. We were sad to say goodbye to it. And by we, I mean Paul and his mom. Our new couch is lush and cozy and easy on my sensitive eyes. With the down feathers sewn perfectly into place, the cushions are a paradise for my butt. Life is looking up.

I haven't moved since it arrived.

Easter candy is taking over my life. We some how acquired a massive amount of candy. Paul’s family had an Easter egg hunt. I hadn’t gone on a hunt for candy since I was 11. The child in me came out in full force and I became very competitive. I guess I realized that finding food was one thing that I was good at, so I might as well give it my all. Between us, Paul and I got quite a haul. Today for some reason, we decided to peruse the grocery stores for discounted Easter candy. Let’s just say, I won’t be bathing suit ready for a while…

Cherry blossom trees are everywhere! I feel like I’m in heaven. No one told me that cherry blossom trees would line the streets here! I feel like I’m in a Dr. Seuss book that takes place in heaven. They’re so luscious and full. It’s crazy how trees can put you in a good mood. It’s the little things in life, really.

There is no way you can deny their beauty! Taken outside my apt.

Also, I dyed my hair! Nothing too crazy, but enough of a change that I feel different. Not many people have noticed. So I guess that’s good? I have a very ashy brown/blonde natural color. It’s almost honey color in certain light. I think Paul and I managed to find a perfect match to what my natural color would be if my hair was virginal. It’s weird having your hair match your eyebrows! Also, I feel very low-maintenance now. So yay for changes! Who knows, maybe I’ll go darker someday?

Dear Canada, You’re Really Gross

Last March, Canada’s government legalized brothels “in an attempt to make prostitution less dangerous for those employed as sex workers.” Isn’t prostitution supposed to be dangerous? Isn’t that the risk you take by becoming a prostitute? Plus, brothels are so 1700’s.

The legalization of brothels and pimping only pertains to Ontario. Are Ontarians on crazy pills? Why would you allow this to be okay? People selling their bodies for money is so gross. And sad. Shouldn’t we discourage this from happening? But who knows, maybe it will make prostitution into a fun thing, like Pretty Woman tried to do. Julia Roberts isn’t even pretty. That movie is misleading in more ways than one. A more realistic ending would’ve included Richard Gere finding out that he has gonorrhea and kicking Julia to the curb.

Your tub has every STD now.

On April 25, prostitutes will be able to hire body guards since life is so dangerous for them. Body guards aren’t going to stop you from getting AIDS. But do whatever you feel, crazies. Really though, who needs a body guard besides Whitney Houston and the Kardashians? Even then, no one protected Kim from getting flour-bombed. And no one protected Whitney from marrying Bobby Brown and getting super drugged up and cray. RIP Whit Whit.

The person that did this is my favorite.

Oh whew! Don’t worry guys, propositioning clients in public will still be illegal. That means they can’t come up to your car and say “Hey, want some sex?” That’s what they say, right? I wonder if brothels are going to put up signs and advertisements and stuff. I don’t think that’s illegal. Will they be able to set up camp in a house? Or can they actually buy storefront property? What would be a good name for a brothel? Lot’s O’ Sex? Hmmm I don’t know. If a brothel was set up in Victoria, I know for sure it would be called The Velvet Crease. That’s already the name of a store here–it paints a vivid picture, don’tcha think?

All in all, this is gross. I really can’t believe I wrote about it for this long. If you’re thinking of moving to Ontario, you might want to invest in a chastity belt.

Merfolk

I don’t know about you guys, but I like to think that mythical creatures used to and still do exist. My grandma passed down a book to me (or my mom…I don’t really remember. My mom and I are pretty interchangeable anyway) simply titled Faeries. It has every folkloric creature that you could find in nature. Some of the best creatures, in my opinion, are Mermaids.

Every child’s first introduction to mermaids should be through the movie, The Little Mermaid. I’ll be the first to admit that Ariel is kind of retarded. First of all she’s a ginger. And I mean that in the worst possible way. She’s a flaming, fire engine red, ginger. She likes adventure, but she gives her voice away in return for legs. Umm that’s a really bad trade. Although, Ursula’s song is very convincing. “And don’t underestimate the importance of BODY LANGUAGE.” Wtf is Ursula anyway? She’s like half octopus half lesbian? I also love Ariel’s thought process: “If I become human, I’ll never be with my father or sisters again…” cut to her signing the scroll. Wow, you must have really loved your family.

A ginger wearing pink. Really, Disney?

Onto more realistic mermaids. The movie Splash really opened my eyes to what mermaids are really like–They save people from drowning, they can teach themselves English incredibly quickly, and they have the power to give themselves legs whenever they want. Did you know all it takes is a little iodized salt to change them back, too?! The things you learn. Basically everything in The Little Mermaid is a lie.  One of Ariel’s best friends is Sebastian the crab, yet Madison plows into a lobster like it’s her favorite meal. Hmmm. It seems like being naked on the beach is the only consistency between these two gals.

Is there any way you can avoid rolling in all that seaweed?

It wasn’t until later in life that I realized that mermaids aren’t at all like how they’ve been portrayed on the big screen. Some mermaids are indeed helpful and kind to sailors, but many had tempers and would specifically target men traveling across the sea. People often confuse mermaids with Sirens who were also women that would lure sailors from their ships hoping to kill them. Mermaids have been around forever–since 1000 B.C. Some were even recorded to be 2,000 feet long. I feel like ancient record keepers over exaggerated a lot.

At least she’s not using a fork to comb her hair. Or is she?

OMG wait. This just in: “Claimed sightings of dead or living mermaids have come from places as diverse as Java and British Columbia. There are two Canadian reports from the area of Vancouver and Victoria, one from sometime between 1870 and 1890, the other from 1967.” AHHHHH. BRB going mermaid spotting.

Other mermaids have been portrayed in movies like Pirates of the Caribbean 10 (there’s been 10 of those movies, right?). Mermaid tears are needed to open a secret door. Apparently mermaid tears are rare because they’re such biatches.

Skanks and hos.

Lily in Seattle

Can you find me? I'm the one in the corner rocking back and forth.

On my flight, I couldn’t help being annoyed with everyone around me. First of all, I had to ride with the scum of the earth in coach. Every time I ride in coach a little part of me dies.  I got the window seat (thank goodness) so I could at least turn my head and pretend I was amongst normal people.

The couple in front of me was the worst part of my flight. They were probably my age. Before we took off, the stewardess had to tell the girl to stop resting her head in her bf’s crotch. I loved it. However, I did not love when they leaned their seats back.  If you’re flying, there is never a reason to lean your seat back. Ever. Don’t do it. They looked and smelled like Woodstock threw up on them. So if that’s the kind of person you want to be like, go right ahead. Just make sure you think of me and my 36 inch legs while you recline.

When we landed, I had to wait extra long before I got off the plane. Did I mention I was in coach? The lady next to me wouldn’t let me out because she was too busy letting the whole plane walk in front of her. I get mad when people aren’t aggressive. I also get mad when people are TOO aggressive. There’s a fine balance. Anyway, now I’m sitting next to some Seattle hipster with elbow patches on his blazer. You know the type. I’m gonna go search for food/sanity. Sorry for the type-os! My iPad is on the fritz.

Norway House

Being Norwegian, I am proud of my heritage. It’s pretty much the best when you know that your ancestors were the bullies of the archaic world. I think I would have made my forefathers proud in that I carry all of the characteristics of a true Norwegian. Even when I visited Oslo, everyone was fooled. I blended right in. Besides wearing a braided halo on my head–that’s still a thing there–I was set.

I look like I belong on that ship.

So you can imagine my excitement when I saw a place in Victoria called “Norway House”. First thoughts: I need to live there. Is it only for men? Is it a secret club (I love secret clubs)? Are their weekly Norwegian activities to do?  So many questions!

Norway House, or Eidsvold Lodge, was built in 1946. They’ve had male and female presidents over the years (in fact their first president was a woman) but everyone seems to have an authentic Norse last name. Ughghg I guess I’ll have to make up an alias. I’m thinking Ingrid Jacobsdatter. See what I did there?

I just looked at the “Lodge Officers” page, and everyone is ancient. This could have been such a cool idea and now it’s ruined by old people like everything else. However, on Saturday they are having a craft fair and it mentions Norwegian sweaters. I’m so there.

Ugh except I just saw a flier for the Nordic Festival that was held in September and it says, “cultural displays, entertainment, open faced sandwiches…” OPEN FACED SANDWICHES? Just because its the Norway House doesn’t mean you have to pretend you’re actually in Norway. Call me when you can afford the other half of your sandwich.

This is so depressing. I thought Norway House was going to be cool. I should probably research my topics before I start writing because this post has gone completely downhill.

One classy joint.