Figure 1: A cartoon turkey.

Today I donated some money to the CBC Turkey Drive. They're collecting turkeys downtown but since I am lazy and it's cold, I just sent them some money via the website.

This is a good cause, but what would make it better is if they had a turkey who could drive. You know? A turkey drive?

I saw a number of Facebook posts yesterday and today related to the fact that at one point over the weekend, Edmonton was allegedly the second-coldest place in the world. I was like, that's ludicrous! What a ridiculous claim! But it turns out it's true--coldest place in North America, and I think only a weather station in Siberia recorded colder temperatures. [Also: if you read the news story linked above it soon veers off into a cute story about a kitten, so that's good.] -58 with the windchill. That is -72 Fahrenheit. How cold is that? Cold enough that I am wearing leggings under my pants. Also my dog has booties.

Really, Edmonton?

You thought, "late-March, Jocelyn-moving weather," and you came up with, "snowstorm"?

Well, I guess you know what they say: March comes in like a lion, goes out like a lion that snows all the time and makes the sidewalks treacherous and icy and makes you want to kill yourself.

the white man also doesn't care about the environment

This morning at Tim Horton's there was a weird thuggy-looking guy in front of me in line who (a) told the woman in front of us, waiting for her coffee, about his idea for a porn franchise featuring Wonder Woman and the Incredible Hulk (tagline: "Don't make me angry") and then (b) told the woman working at T-Ho's that we were in our current state because of "the white man" (he himself was pretty white) and then added, "It's because we've lost the faith. Everyone but me." She gave him his coffee and said, "Have a nice day, sweetie!" with the kind of relentless customer-service optimism that you do not see at the big-city Tim Hortonses, only in the suburbs.

Then he got into his Hummer (!) and drove away.

Maybe I was just having a philosophical morning, but I was thinking about how tiring it would be to believe that everyone around you had lost the faith, that you alone were responsible for upholding humanity's value. But on the other hand, no one who drives a Hummer can really be feeling responsible for much.

These days it's still bone-chillingly cold, and the amount of time we spend talking about the weather has increased exponentially as March wears on with no signs of tiring. If you were to graph Edmontonians' interest in the weather, it would look like this:

Around December/January, no one is surprised by the cold, because it seems natural, and plus we haven't seen the sun in weeks and we're busy being sick and depressed. But by the time March rolls around we're starting to feel entitled to some nice weather, and the -33 business seems particularly cruel.

So after I left Tim Horton's I trekked across the barren parking lot, and I felt like an Arctic explorer, except not in a fun way. I felt isolated, and also like I might get scurvy. It doesn't help that the traffic lights at this one particular intersection are really pedestrian-unfriendly and often take several cycles to actually give you a walk light, so you feel like you'll likely be stranded out there forever, a lone cold explorer on a little traffic island, blinded by snow--and then some weird dude will tell you not to lose faith, and then run over you with his Hummer.

Our pens have turned to ink-sicles*

When I woke up this morning and checked the weather, it claimed that it was -22 at the time, with a high for today of -3. Really, Internet? When is it going to reach this mythical temperature of -3? Because in the short walk from T-Ho's to the bus stop, my coffee went from hot to lukewarm, and my legs from leg-temperature to, uh, frozen-steak-temperature. Yeah. Gross.

It still claims that tomorrow will be 0. I think that the government is feeding Environment Canada these made-up forecasts to keep us from rioting, hoping we'll never notice that it NEVER GETS TO THE FORECASTED HIGH, and that in the meantime our ASSETS ARE FROZEN*.

*I stole these jokes from The Muppet Christmas Carol.

it's blizzarding, Internet. It's blizzarding IN MY HEART. And by "in my heart," i mean "outside." it's like the world ended. If we could, we would all crawl into our beds and never come out, with the radio on so we know we are not alone in the universe.

I never used to be much of a shoe-person. I don't like having stuff on my feet. I live for the 6 months of the year that flip-flops do not constitute a completely ridiculous footwear decision. but since i started working, i suddenly have shoes, like proper ones, and with shoes come shoe-storage problems. you know? isn't that pathetic? there are people in the world with malaria, and I am concerned about my pile of shoes.

I've been letting everything fall apart around me. I am only so invincible. Can someone be invincible up to a point?

-39 today. This is actually better though, because there is no windchill. When -39 is "better," you know you have a standards issue.

I could be a weather-person.

This post is merely to notify you that it is -30 in Edmonton today. With the wind chill, it "feels like" (this is a real weather thing and not something I am making up) -46. (That's -50 for you fahrenheit people.) Also, there is a wind chill warning.

I talked to my parents on the phone last night. They like to feel involved in my life, so when I told them there was a blizzard, my dad looked up the Edmonton traffic cam website. It was pretty hilarious. My word alone that it was very cold and snowy and windy didn't impress anyone, but with the addition of the traffic cameras into the equation, suddenly I was getting a lot of sympathy. "People are sliding all over the place!" my dad said. "One guy is cross-country skiing on Walterdale Hill!"

Like all Edmontonians, I possess the ability to layer. Usually, no matter how cold it gets, if you put on enough clothes you will be fine. But -46 is past the layering point. It's almost past the going outside point. I did my whole layering routine before I left the house this morning, and other than not wearing a hat (MAJOR OVERSIGHT), I did everything I could. But your toes get cold inside your boots. Your thumbs get cold inside your mittens (I am not kidding. I was wearing wool mittens lined with fleece and my thumbs were cold). Your forehead gets cold under your hood. Your legs get cold, from the top of your leg-warmers to the bottom of your coat. I was wearing 2 t-shirts, a jersey hoodie lined with fleece, a down vest, and a gore-tex shell. I could feel the place where my t-shirt sleeves ended, because MY ARMS WERE COLDER. Under those circumstances, all you can do is huddle together and wait for it to be over.

(PS. Out of the last 10 facebook updates from my Alberta-based friends, 8 are about the weather. Mine says, "Jocelyn is surrounded by coolish polar winter.")

Victorious

It's such a beautiful day, Internets. Seriously. I know I live in Edmonton, and Edmonton + winter ≠ beautiful day, but I'm serious. According to the google desktop, it's 1 degree. PLUS one degree. Take that! The walk to work was lovely, and long enough to listen to "In Our Bedroom After the War" 3 times.

I went to West Edmonton Mall last night, and although the Mall put up a good fight, I emerged the victor. I didn't even go Christmas shopping, I just needed some new clothes and toothpaste and sewing thread and weird things like that. By the time I hiked out the door and across a grassy knoll to the bus stop, though, I felt like I had been hit by a truck. A mall-truck.

They're filming a movie in my neighbourhood, and there are catering trucks parked on my street. I'm thinking later I might try to bluff my way into some free food. YESSSSS. The benefit of living near historical buildings.

Finally, I started watching Season 9 of X-Files last night. This represents another great victory for me, as it means I am almost done my mammoth entertainment undertaking that was begun so many months ago. (I don't remember how many.) Around 150 hours of TV! So far, I like season 9 a lot. The season premiere had Cary Elwes--be still my 7th-grade heart! And Lucy Lawless, who was a villain of some kind, of course. (Don't people know not to trust her? She's a cylon!) In honour of her appearance, I made a new mix CD for my sister entitled "Christmas for Cylons."

You are about to read what is, maybe, the longest run-on sentence ever!

Morning, Internets!

It's only 9:02 AM and already I have checked off two of the things on my to-do-at-work post-it. That means it's time for a little illicit blog-posting, thus (probably) disobeying the work computing agreement I agree with every time I log onto the network and possibly ensuring THE TERMINATION OF MY CONTRACT. On the other hand, I think they're going to be pretty hesitant to dismiss someone as professionally dressed as I am, so I should be safe.

(Re: the post-it. Most of the people I work with have Crackberries, and we use Microsoft Outlook for everything. People have laptops and tablet laptops and, I don't know, robot butlers. It's a very high-tech office, which makes sense since I work for the tech consulting branch of the ministry of education. I'm the only one who insists on kickin' it old skool by writing things in a notebook I carry around. Although I would undoubtedly get addicted to the portable e-mail too, if only I were funded for it. However, I know I'm the only person in the world to say so, but I kind of like Outlook. Every time I get a meeting request I'm touched: me? You want little old me at your meeting? Well, sure, honey! And any computer program that lets me colour-code things is guaranteed to go over well.)

I woke up this morning and it was still dark outside and snow was falling and the streetlamps were lit up like cheezy streetlamps are lit up in cheezy paintings. I've lived on the Canadian prairies for most of my life, and you'd think that by now I would be disenchanted with winter. And I am, for the most part. But the first big snow of every year looks like Christmas and Narnia and my childhood and, I don't know, Little House on the Prairie, and it wins me over. There is something ineffably romantic about the world being covered with new snow. And this is particularly true on the street where I live now, which being a Historical Area has cast-iron streetlamps and brick buildings and lovely trees. I wished I could stand there in my slippers and bathrobe drinking coffee and watching the loveliness of the scene, but unfortunately I don't own a bathrobe and I don't wear slippers because I hate having things on my feet (true fact!) and I am incapable of making my own coffee because I am coffee-retarded and, also, because I believe very strongly that I play an important role in keeping expensive but necessary coffee places in business, because I remember the Time Before Starbucks, and it was a cold, cold time. (In my fantasy, I AM Starbucks' business plan. Their business plan just says "Jocelyn's bizarre attachment to evil corporate coffee," and then has a bunch of appendices with graphs and charts.) Anyway, it was pretty much the nicest thing a dewey-eyed romantic like me can wake up to. I shall try to make the rest of the day live up to that precedent.

Work dispatch # 1,092

The little sign on my cubicle still says "TBA," and I'm thinking it would be awesome if those were my initials. From now on, you can call me "Theresa Bethany Albanese." Or anything else that creates the initials "TBA." Unless it's mean. Like, uh, Tiny-Brained Alcoholic.

I think I need a little plant for my cubicle (the plant would also have the initials TBA), and some toys. It just doesn't feel like TBA's home. Although, in a minor victory, I reprogrammed my voicemail so that my message doesn't say that someone named Kevin can't take your call. I think this is a step in the right direction. Baby steps. I may also inquire about whether it is OK for me to install Firefox. Internet Explorer makes me enraged, or at least, mildly annoyed.

Another baby step: I am wearing a pretty scarf I made out of fabric I got from Wal-Mart for $2. That makes me feel pretty good, and in fact, is the only thing that makes me feel pretty good at this particular moment. It's an important scarf. In fact, I think I would say it's very necessary.

I barely slept last night and woke up feeling weirdly alert. It was crazily windy--end of the world weather--and now it's snowing. All night, the wind was whistling around my high-rise, and it felt like I was in Wuthering Heights, so I couldn't sleep because I was stressed out about whether I have TB. Wouldn't that be ironic? TBA with TB!

I'm tired, obviously. I need (a) more coffee and (b) to channel this enthusiasm for the English language into my actual job. Jocelyn! Edit something! OK! I will!

Status update: Jocelyn is updating her blog.

I switched from google calendar to 30boxes, and boy is it fun! It lets me do everything I wanted my online calendar to do, ie., make different types of events different colours. And it syncs with facebook! It keeps trying to get me to add buddies, though, which puzzles me. Why would anyone else want to know that I have a digital archives/copyright meeting tomorrow at 2?

Last night was crazy. We have had extreme, 30 degree-plus heat here for the past week or so, and last night it broke in a spectacular storm. In the two blocks between the LRT station and my apartment building, I got soaked to the skin (literally), everything in my bag got wet, and there were hailstones the size of the eraser on the end of a pencil caught in my hair. It was pretty hilarious, actually. Confronted with weather like that, what can you do but just walk serenely through it? I came home and immediately hung up all my clothes in the shower.

Yesterday's Cat and Girl was hilarious.

Art of the business card photoset on flickr. As a crafty librarian, I think my business cards should look like card catalogue cards... something to ponder.