The Conquering of the Worrel Bank
and other tales by Jenny Mosher

For over a year now it has existed in my life, sometimes recognized, other times forgotten. Silently it has beckoned me, called me, taunted me, dared me. I have heard tales of how it has broken others, how it has struck dread into their hearts as they were forced to face it on foot, two wheels, and even four. I have only ever watched from a window I've never had to be the one to actually engage in combat. Once it nearly defeated a friend as she was already in 5th gear when she started to climb. I am talking about the Worrel Bank.

Those of you who live in Morpeth know what I'm talking about, for those of you who don't, the Worrel Bank is a particularly large and ferocious breed of hill. It lies between Morpeth and Pegswood and anyone who has had to make the journey in between is forced to face this monstrosity. From a car this trip is decievingly simple, especially when traveling downhill, but when faced with climbing up it either on a bike or on foot it is especially daunting.

My tale really begins when I was in grade 4 attending school at Burntwood Elementary School in Thompson, Manitoba. I would have been 9 years old then. One day an announcement was made over the P.A. system saying that the tryouts for the Knights of Columbus would begin after school and on this particular day the tryouts were for the 300m run. I had just moved to Thompson the summer before grade 4 started for me so I was a rookie in this town and I had no idea what the Knights of Columbus were, but, since everyone in my class seemed to be going I went along as well. We met in the basement of our school where we had an underground track made of ashphalt. I remember it seeming so big when I was 9, but since revisiting at the age of 17 I realised that it was indeed very small. Tryouts began and I was told to run a certain number of laps around the track and that I would be timed. No sweat! I was always pretty active and always came out on top when we had fitness testing in gym class, I could do this. And I did. I really had no idea exactly what I did, only that I did well and came in first. I was then told that I would be running for the school at a city wide track meet called the Knights of Columbus and that I would be running in the 300m run. The track meet came and I ran and placed 4th which meant that I didn't win a medal but that was the beginning of my passion for running.

From then on I compteted in every Knights of Columbus track meet, most years as a student of Deerwood Elementary School since we moved shortly after grade 4. I managed to become one of the top runners in the 300m run and placed 2nd every year with Ladonna Waldner from Westwood Elementary always placing 1st, a very worthy opponent. (Ladonna, wherever you are, I miss you and wish you the best in everything life has for you!)

In grade 7 I managed to get my best time ever in just under one minute and I was asked to attend the Boeing Games in Winnipeg. I won two bronze medals at this meet and proudly brought them home.
I continued on in the wonderful sport of running throughout highschool until grade 10. Grade 10 was a very hard year for me as I was searching for my identity. I was having a tough time with my church youth group and I found more acceptance from my friends at school and so for a time I decided to put my faith on hold. Luckily God never writes us off even though we write Him off sometimes and He brought me safely through that time and I'm still going strong in my relationship with Him. But, because of the rough time I went through as well as a desire to not repeat it and track and field had taken me on many weekends away from my youth group I decided to sacrifice it in grade 11. Instead I became the missions co-ordinator for my youth group and in grade 12 the secretary for our youth group executive.

Even though I had officially given up track and field at school, the passion for running still coursed thick through my veins. In grade 12 I decided to try to start going for runs before school. I had only short distance when I was in track and thought I would see how I could hold up with long distance running. We lived on the treeline and so there were many trails behind our house which were perfect for cross country running. It started with only going for 10 minute runs. I remember after the first few times thinking that I would absolutely die! I'd reach home and be sweating up a storm, panting, and have cramps in my stomache...I loved it!

Some people ask why on earth I would enjoy running. Well not only is it a great way to get exercise but I love the feeling of running. I love the sense of accomplisment after having gone for a run. I love the time to just be me, on my own and think about life and sometimes just sweat out the stress of life. I love the time to take in my surroundings and marvel at God's creation. I love that it's something that I have to work for. I love the feeling of energy that I get from running and the sense of freedom, like nothing can touch me and in the busy, busy lives that we create for ouselves I love the time to just get away from everything and be me. To think what I want, go where I want, to just stop and be if I want. Ok, I'll accept the fact that I may sound like a flake, but it's something that I love. Perhaps it's in my makeup, when God put me together in my mother's womb he said "and she's gonna love running." Above all there is also the comparasion between living for God and running that is made in the bible:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us"

I find that many times when I'm running I think of these words and I think about my life and I'm encouraged to keep going. No matter what kind of situations I'm facing, keep running. No matter how lousy I feel, keep running. On days that I feel great, keep running the race for Jesus and never give up.

I'm afraid that after high school I never fully managed to continue running. Throuhgout the years I have had spurts and phases where I've tried to get back into it. I've amazed myself many times at the distance I can work my way up to. My last year spent in Morpeth there were a few months where it again made an appearance in my life but it was soon squashed out by the amount of work I was doing and the lack of sleep I was getting. However, this summer, while I was back home in Ottawa I managed to pick it up again which brings me back into my story about the Worrel Bank...

...I arrived back into Morpeth, a good solid month of running and having worked up to about 5km behind me, determined to continue on. Anna Hatch, who I currently live with, suggested to me some good routes. One about 4.5 miles the other 5 miles. The route that was 5 miles also included running up the Worrel Bank. I did not think I was ready at all. I had only been running flat distances and had no experience with hills. Still, my appetite was whetted. I set out steadily building up my endurance on the 4.5 mile run steadily approaching the day when I would set out to conquer my foe. It was hard work. Although shorter, the route which I was running was far from flat. England is known for it's rolling hills and although there weren't too many, there was a rather nasty piece of slope-age that I had to run up. I worked on this route for 3 weeks. After two, I was able to run it straight without stopping but I ran the extra week to make sure I was good and ready.
I woke up this morning and decided today was the day! I would conquer the Worrel Bank. I set out, slightly nervous. Would I be able to do it? Would I have to stop half way up to walk the rest of the way? Would I succomb to the hungary jaws of this incline or would I be able to master it? Slowly but surely I set my pace. Reliant K was the music of choice in my discman and as the beat started my feet began to scrape the pavement, I began to run. Before long it loomed up before me, my eyes trailed the road as it increased in height and sloped around the corner, my throat was feeling dry and scratchy and I had to remind myself to breath. One foot after the other I plodded ahead, it was now or never. My feet reached the base and I didn't slow down. Slowly I began moving upwards. Traffic was shooting by and the vehicles made the ground vibrate and the air roar as if the bank itself was enraged by my presence. I kept moving forward. My legs started to tighten as the muscles in my thighs began to tire. I kept moving forward. I was half way up and things were going well. I wasn't out of breath and although my muscles were tight, they were not siezing up. A biker passed me going the opposite direction, I thought about what he'd have to face on the way back. Then suddenly I saw it! The top! I was almost there. A surge of adrenaline was realeased and in a rush I quickened my pace. I was going to do it! I did do it! I made it to the top and in the joy of my victory I continued running. I ran the whole 5 miles and got back home within 45 minutes! I was estatic. I set out to achieve a goal and I did it. It was very rewarding.

I do not know if I will be choosing that route every time I go for a run now but it does hold a special place with me. The Worrel Bank no longer seems as intimidating. In fact would compare it to meeting someone for the first time, someone who intimidates you. Someone who you see and think "gosh! Look at them! I could never just go up and say hi to them!" but as you get to know them you realise that they're a very easy going and friendly person. Although they appear to be one way on the outside, inside they are very different. That is what the Worrel Bank is like. It's very intimidating but once you get past that initial awkwardness you realise you've made a friend for life.

I hope to one day run a marathon, in fact I've said that I'd like to do it before I'm 30. There is also the Great North Run here in England. Maybe if I end up sticking around one day I'll attempt that. It's very true that you can do anything that you set your mind to. A quote that is even more dear to my heart is this:

"I can do everything through him who gives me strength" Phillippians 4:13

Priceless

You know, blogs are funny things. When I write them I can never really get past the feeling that I should be writing in newsletter style, letting everyone know the doings of my life in a very general and objective way. If I'm going to write about something personal I always find that I try to write it in a sermon/story type of way. It's hard to try and write the real me, but there is so much of the real me that I could share. I always have so many thoughts, emotions, and experiences I could write about but I'm always a bit hesitant about how real to make everything because that would be exposing myself completely. There is always a bit of an auto-guard that kicks in when I write that tries to edit everything into a nice neat package to put on display. Sometimes I'm afraid that the moments that I really cherish and think are precious will be watered down and not shared in the same way if I were to share them with everyone. Sometimes I'm afraid that they will become less precious if everyone knew about them, the same way that gold's value would decrease if everyone had loads and loads of it. Sometimes I want to save them to share with people who I really value and who really put in a effort to get to know me, that way I know that they won't be wasted and they'll really want to hear what I have to say. And what about the not so nice things, the things that are ugly and coarse? Would people be able to handle the truth of those things without thinking my life is falling apart? For example here is a bit from my journal on monday:

I'm having a bad day. It's one of those days where I'm finding life hard. I am outside my home country, I do not have very many friends and sometimes it seems like work just consumes my life. It's just a bad day. I have them, everybody has them, they happen. And as much as I'd like to be able to tell everyone around me to back off, would they understand? Yes, it happens to Christians, am I not allowed to have a day where I'm grumpy? I hope tomorrow is better, I'm sure it will be. I do not want anyone to fix anything for me or to be like "poor Jenny" or think I need a load of prayer. I mean prayer is good, but I do not want it out of pity, I want it out of support. I just feel like being able to tell everyone that I'm having a bad day without them thinking that it must be just because I'm homesick and feeling sorry for me and the sacrifice I must have made to come over. It's not about that at all. It's just that it's not a very good day. Why can't people just accept that sometimes?

Sometimes I'm even afraid to journal moments for myself because I don't think that I'll be able to fully capture what the moment held. Like the times when the Holy Spirit whispers in your ear how much He loves you and how much He's rooting for you to succeed when things are hard, or even just because. Or when you're feeling ovewhelmed and you sense His loving arms wrapped around you tight reminding you that He's holding you. Or just when something little in your day makes you smile and He whispers how much He loves it when you smile. How can I put into words the beauty of those experiences? I can't. How can I put into words the reality of those experiences? I can't. And sometimes I think that's why it's so hard when people ask me "how do I know God is real?" Because I can't put into words those moments that I treasure so much that I would put all my faith in a God I cannot see. Of course there are the tangible things, the situations that have come about miraculously out of faith that I can share but they are not what I'm living for. I'm living for those moments that cannot be put into words, that I will not even know fully until I am in Heaven face to face with Jesus. I'm living for the real-ness that even I can't understand.

1 Corinthians 13:12 Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

Subservient Chicken

This morning as we were planning for an assembly I was flipping through a youth work magazine for some ideas and I stumbled upon an article that gave some cool websites. The Subservient Chicken website happened to be one of them and with such an interesting appeal I just had to check it out for myself. I mean the amusement coming from typing commands for a man dressed in a chicken suit and watching him perform to your every whim could last for hours! Anyway I figured that my since my research into youth resources was so successful I should share it with you all: www.subservientchicken.com Have fun!

ps - there is an actual object lesson that can be taken from this website. It could be used as a very good example of obedience and freedom. Just thought I'd let you know.

JMo out.

Another..

Another Monday, another weekend past,
Another early morning, from the shower another cold blast,
Another high school assembly, and another this coming pm
Another collective gasp at my accent, and another again and again,
Another blog on the computer, another water in my cup
Another meeting in an hour, and another soon after I sup
Another day that is cloudy, another day that is grey
Another day to sigh and feel mundane, another day, another day, another day...yet,
Another breath full of opportunities, another day in which I can recieve a gift,
Another way to praise my Saviour, another way to show an act of love in how I live

Smile

Yay! After I wrote my last post we went to do an after school club at a first school and I was sitting on the side while Mike was doing his assembly first and one of the teachers came and sat down beside me and said to me "I just have to comment on your posture! It's lovely! Do you do yoga or pilates or something?" I guess I'm not completely hopeless yet! To borrow the phrase from a dear friend " it made my heart glow!"

Posture:

1. A characteristic way of bearing one's body; carriage: stood with good posture.
2. A frame of mind affecting one's thoughts or behavior; an overall attitude.


I think that my good posture is starting droop.
I used to get compliments all the time on how I had such good posture. I remember one time when I was in a Walmart McDonalds with my brother and while we were eating one of the workers came over and explaimed that I must be a piano player because my back was so straight when I sat. It was always something I was kind of proud of. Anyway, I think that I've started to slack off and slouch all the time and I don't like it. For one thing my back starts to get sore because of it and it makes me think that I don't have as much stamina as I used to. Also, I don't want to be someone who has what I like to call the "terredactal" neck when I get older.

I think sometimes spiritually I can very much start to slouch as well because life can just become a bit too heavy on my shoulders. It's like when I was in high school and I had a picture at Hard Core Prayer one night. Hard Core Prayer was on Thursday evenings at my church and it was just an hour in the evening for youth to come and pray at the church. I was sitting on the floor at the front of the church not really praying but just sitting with God and I saw a road which I was walking down and I had a back pack on my shoulders. Sometimes while I was walking I'd see a little pebble in my way and I'd pick it up and put it in my bag. It was so little that I hardly noticed it and as I found these pebbles I just kept collecting them and putting them in my back pack. But, eventually, the bag began to grow heavy with all these little pebbles and it started to weigh me down and my back started to slump but I just kept picking them up. Finally I just couldn't walk anymore and I started to cry because it was so heavy. Then Jesus came and He took the bag from me, emptied it and I was able to walk on again.

The little pebbles were situations/problems in life that I didn't think were too big and figured I could just handle on my own. And as these situations kept coming and I just kept handling them on my own the more they all just weighed down on my shoulders until I was carrying this huge burdon that I had to have Jesus lift off my back. The thing is that God doesn't want us to wait until we have a huge burdon, He wants to handle every little situation in our lives. I don't have to pick up the little pebbles. It's hard though isn't it? I mean I'm someone who likes to be able to be in control and do things, but really I guess there's no freedom in that, that's the attitude that causes me to get weary and burdoned.

I guess ultimately it's about surrender. The more that I bow down and give my life to God the more I'm free to stand up and walk with good posture.

Hello my name is _____ and I have an addiction...

...well, no, not really, I just thought that it sounded like a catchy title. I do not nearly straighten my hair as much as I used to. I used to have a routine where every Friday after school I'd come home and straighten my hair before youth group and it used to be the only way I ever did my hair when it was down. Later on I realised that wavy hair could be worked with and there was such a thing as a diffuser which is equally as great as the straightner, although I don't know if I'm as affectionate about it.

I was first introduced to the hair straightner when I was just 16 years old, it was during a night of teenage girliness and beautifying at my friend Leanne's. My hair was straightened for the first time and I fell in love. Where had this device, that had the ability to turn my frizzy, puffy hair into soft sleekness, been all my life? --I'm sorry, I have the ability to go off on tangents of verbal rambling sometimes...there is a point for my reminicsing though I promise!

I'm living with a family this year while I'm in England and they have two girls ages 12 and 15. I'm having a great time living with them and I'm really enjoying the girls' company. I never had sisters, just 3 brothers, and I'm enjoying the experience. Anyway, a couple days ago Sophie, the 15 year old asked me if I would straighten her hair for her and I was more than happy to do it. I really do like doing people's hair and all that kind of girly stuff, I really think it's so much fun and love blessing people with anything like that. We had a great time and I felt like I got to know her a little more through it. When she came home from school and told me that everyone kept complimenting her on her hair I was totally thrilled.

I know it was just a little thing but sometimes when you can do a little thing that you really enjoy for someone else it really blesses you. I don't know if I'm getting across the meaning of what I'm really trying to say...but yeah, I know what I mean.

Airport Madness

Hello, well I'm back in England! Things have been a bit of a whirlwind these past few days as I've been rather jet-lagged and was back in the office on Monday. It looks like this year is going to be a pretty full on already as we booked in 8 high school assemblies yesterday....8!! They're all this month as well, yeesh! Hopefully I can muster up some creativity despite the fog in my brain.

My flight over went really well. It wasn't that long, only about 6 1/2 hours total with a stop in Halifax. It seemed to go by really fast. I had a bit of an adventure before I boarded the plane though. It goes something like this:

After a rather emotional and tearful good bye with my parents I made it through security and headed towards my gate. It took me a bit to get there because I kept turning around to wave good bye to my parents who were watching from the floor above through the glass. Eventually I got to gate 14 and sat down. I looked around and took in the people who were going to be on my flight with me. A pretty average crowd I figured it'd be a pretty regular flight. I then had a lady approach me and ask me "is your last name Smith?" ( She didn't really say Smith but I can't remember the actual name she used.) I let her know that it wasn't my last name and she went on to say "oh, I'm supposed to find a young girl traveling alone who's last name is Smith, you're sure you're not her?" I assured her that it was not me and she smiled and left. I thought it was a bit funny since the last time that I flew to the UK I had a guy ask me if I was Michelle from Timmins, Ontario and if I had gone to the same high school as him.

Anyway, I looked at my watch and realized that I still had about an hour left before the plane was supposed to leave and I was way to ansy to sit still and wait. So, I decided that I would go and get a bottle of water and maybe try to find a book because I had not brought either with me for the flight. I picked up my bags and headed back down to the Relay store to poke around. I found the water easy enough but it took a few minutes for me to browse through the books. I was debating whether or not to get a John Grisham book when I saw "The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency" and I remembered my mom telling me that it was a very good book. I picked it up and headed to the counter to pay but there was a bit of a dilemma. The store's interact machine was on the blink (not working, but those who read my Canadian/English Dictionary would know that) and the girl working the till didn't know what to do. She ended up getting on the phone and as all this was happening I was realizing that the minutes were quickly slipping by and that my plane would soon be boarding. I decided just to drop it and I had to leave without my water or my book. I was pretty disappointed.

As I was walking back to gate 14 something of interest caught my eye, a currency exchange, and in a flash a thought process coursed through my brain. It went something kinda like this:

"hmmmm don't have any Canadian cash but I do have some British Pounds with me, if I was to exchange a few pounds I would have enough Canadian cash to go back and buy my water and my book. But would it take a long time to exchange? No, I don't think so it's pretty fast...the question is how much time do I have before I have to get on the plane? Well maybe I'll just look around the corner and see what the status is..."

So I looked around the corner and the seats surrounding the gate area were completely empty and everyone had joined a line to board and there were only about 35 people left to get onto the plane. My brain started whirring again:

"YIKES! I didn't realize that they'd started boarding, what do I do? Common sense would tell me to just forget it and join the line, but I really want some water and a book and there is still a chance. If I run I could have time...do i do it or not? If I keep standing here trying to decide I'm wasting precious time to actually go and get the book so what do I do? Right I'm just gonna go for it!"

I dashed back to the currency exchange and asked the man to change my British Pounds for me - I think he thought I was a bit odd converting back to Canadian since it was obvious I was leaving but he did it anyway. As soon as I had my cash I ran back down to the Relay store and made it to the counter just in front of someone else who was about to pay for something. I asked the woman if she had put my book and water away yet and said breathlessly that I had cash. My adrenaline was really pumping and my hands were shaking trying to get the change for her. All of a sudden I heard them announce the final boarding call for my flight and another surge of adrenaline was released as I said "don't worry about the change, I have to go!!" ( She was counting it out sooooo slowly. She insisted that I take my 30 cents so I grabbed it causing a few coins to fly loose, and charged back down towards gate 14 making it just in time with only 5 people ahead of me in the line! My heart was absolutely pounding and by the time I got to my seat I was very hot and sweaty but very triumphant!

I sat down on my seat with a sense of the risk I'd taken as well as deep satisfaction that I'd accomplished what I'd set out to do. I also noticed there was a large lump that I was sitting on. I stood up to find that the lovely people on Zoom Airlines had provided me with a bottle of water for my journey.

That was very sweet of them but my race was still justified because they had not provided me with a book.

Jenny's English/Canadian Dictionary

The countdown is on! Only 3 more days until I leave Canada to head back to the lovely UK. I have most of my stuff sorted, I just need to repack my suitcases and make sure I can get everything back in, hopefully my boxes of kraft dinner will fit!

Anyway, in honour of my departure back to "jolly ol' England" I thought I'd post a list of English words that were different to the Canadian language. I kept this list while I was in England last year. I ended up stopping not too long after I started because there were just tooo many words! Some people who I've talked to since I've been back were asking to see it so here it is, posted for the public to view. Maybe one day I can start my own dictionary website...that would be very cool! Ace even!

I'm not sure if I will have another post on my blog before I leave or when the next time I'll be able to post will be so until next time....watch this space!

If there are any words that are confusing just let me know and I will try my best to clarify.

I apologize to any English people if I have any errors in the meanings of the words. My sources of consultation whilst compiling the list were: Mike Willis, Lisa Holt, Steve Belleguelle and Heather Belleguelle. You may take any grievances up with them. They are all citizens of the United Kingdom.

*the grouping of phrases at the end of the list is cockney rhyming slang. Some of you may have seen the movie Oceans 11 where the English dude says "otherwise we'll be in Barney" that's cockney rhyming slang for trouble. These phrases are used in the English language in England, believe it or not. During one of the kids clubs I was helping at last year one of the little boys pointed to Mike and said "he's telling porkies!" which means lies because porky pie = lie. That's basically how it works. Hopefully it's not too confusing

Jenny's list of English words:

ace = cool
bedlam = madness, chaos, hectic
berk = idiot etc.
billy no mates = loner
bin = Garbage Can
bitty = lots of little things "i had a bitty week, lots of errands"
blimey! = gosh, wow, etc
bloke = guy
blue peter = scoutish charity "that's very blue peter"(hand made, crafty-ish)
blue peter badge = what you get for doing something home made-ish or helping charity etc.
bonnet = hood of the car
boon = a bonus, blessing etc.
boot = trunk of the car
brew = tea or coffee
brilliant = awesome
bumped off = killed, done away with
bunking off = skiving, not doing any work,
bush telegraph = jungle drums, grapevine "we'll put it through the bush telegraph"
camp = femmy
canny = good, (a canny day), sweet, cute, polite, "he's canny"
cheap = morally loose
cheeky = someone who gives a bit of lip in a friendly way, sarcastic, a joker
chippy = fish & chips restaurant
chips = fries
chucked = dumped
chuffed = extremely pleased, satisfied
clarty = mucky (or sh*t)
clever ducky = smart alec
codger = an older person
comes a cropper = hurt yourself, situation didn't go to plan, an object broke it "came a cropper"
copping off = making out
cotton Buds = Q tips
crackers = crazy, nuts
cracking = good "cracking good day for a....."
crisps =chips
crumbs = golly! Gosh
cuppa = tea
do your nut = go crazy
does my nut in = drives me crazy
dodgy = suspicious, shady, iffy
doing (done, do) yourself a mischeif = hurting yourself
faffing = fooling around, nit picking
fag = cigarette
fit = hot
gaffer = the boss, refers to football manager
grasser = a tattle tale, someone who spills on everyone else
git - an annoying mean person, grumpy old so & so
gooseberry = 3rd wheel, spare part
gutted = choked/extreme disappointment
heaving = crowded
jelly = jello
jungle drums = the grapevine "jungle drums've been working" (I've heard something about you)
knackered = totally wiped out and exausted
knocked up = put together (I knocked up a sandwich for you)
loo = toilet
lorry = Semi
manic = chaotic
mank = disgusting
mates = friends
minger = someone who's really gross
minging = gross/disgusting
mint = cool
more-ish = something you want more of...that's addicting (chocolate is very more-ish)
motor way = highway
mulled wine = wine that has mulled spices (cinnimon, nutmeg, spiced fruits) boiled in a pan and had at christmas
naff = no good
naught = zero (0.3 = naught point three)
norman no friends = a loner
numpty = dummy, idiot, plonker
on the blink = not working "the phone is on the blink"
peckish = hungry
persnickety = pays close attention to little details...is consumed by them
plonker = idiot
poof = gay
prat = idiot "he was a right prat!"
pratish = idiotic "that was a pratish thing to do"
proper = real/authentic/the right way
pudding = dessert
row = fight, argument, a good yell.
sarnie = sandwich
scrounger = someone who always mooches and doesn't pay back. "on the scrounge"
shattered = tired, wiped out
shocking = something really bad, acting on a show was terrible is shocking.
skank = disgusting, someone on "too posh to wash"
skatty = scatterbrained, running around with your head cut off...etc.
skiver = slacker, not doing any work, skiving
skuzzy = disgusting, someone who's skuzzy.
slag = slut
snap! = same here!
snogging = making out
sorted = worked out "have you gotten everything sorted/worked out?"
sussed = sorted, worked out
swot = book nerd, teachers pet
taking the Mick = making fun, teasing
talent = "they've got talent" hot, fit
tart = someone who dresses like slag doesn't mean you are one though, good insult for a guy who's obsessed with his hair etc.
tartin yourself up = getting all dolled out
tea = supper
tip = dump "my rooms a bit of a tip"
tip ex = white out
tosh = rubbish, bull sh*t, load of crap.
trapping = making out
twee = sickly girly (shirly temple)
watch this space! = get ready somethings coming
what is he like? = who does that...etc.
winge = moan, gripe, wine
yonks = ages, forever, a long time

*Cockney Rhyming Slang

2 in 8 = you’re a state
Apple pie = eye
Apples & pears = stairs
Barney rubble = trouble
Creamed crackers = knackered
Dog & bones = phone
Porky pie = lie
Tit for tat = hat

A Night On the Town

I went into Ottawa with my friend Amber tonight. We left with the intention of going to see a movie but decided not to. First of all when we pulled into the parking lot we noticed that Jacob Connexion was still open. How could we resist? After about half an hour of poking around and trying things on we left empty handed, semi-sad that we had nothing new to take away with us, semi-empowered that we had enough will power to say "we don't need anything!" We then sauntered over to the theatre to see the movies and showtimes but by this time it was 8:45 and most of the earlier showings had passed. Our choices were down to The Cave or The Constant Gardener. I did not want to see The Cave, I am a wuss and I will admit it, even though Amber tried hard I didn't cave in ( ha ha). It looked like it was down to the Constant Gardener but I just didn't feel that I knew enough about it to go and watch it yet so we decided to go in and ask the theatre staff about it. You'd think that they would know about the movies for people who have inquiries but the girl,who was chewing her gum quite loudly and blowing bubbles, (some that I know would say "dirty habbit!") pointed us to a sign instead. It wasn't at all helpful and didn't give us anymore insight into the movie so we decided that we'd blow it all and just go to Starbucks instead.

We walked down the row of shops to Starbucks discussing the current state of South Keys. Apparantly it isn't the safest place at night but we decided to just go ahead and walk anyway, the stores were all still open. We got to Starbucks and ended up passing some pretty weird characters. There was one who was just outside Starbucks sitting at an outdoor table, with his knees up on his chair, long scraggly hair, rocking forwards and backwards muttering to himself with a malcious grin on his face, staring at us as we walked by...I was a bit creeped out but we ended up sitting outside anyway. My friend Amber has no fear. After a brief dilema with our drinks we both had a flavoured soy milk and sat outside and talked, the whole time with the weirdo at the other end of the patio. I was glad to leave when we did and even brave Amber was thinking this guy was a bit nuts.

We got back home and went on the swings in the park. We weren't there for too long when a band of youth with beers and cigarettes came along the path. They saw us and struck up a conversation. The guys thought my name was hilarious and started singing "I'm just Jenny, just Jenny from the swings". They asked us what we were doing and we said "being six again" they thought this was hilarious and that we were super cool. One guy told us his name was Josh and they carried onto the jungle gym and every so often I'd hear "hey Jenny from the swing, how's it going?" It was pretty interesting, they were harmless enough but we decided that they were getting too loud and we couldn't hear each other talking anymore so decided to go home.

Anyway, that was my evening! One of the more exciting nights since I've been home. I'm glad that we didn't go see a movie, it's nicer to catch up with old friends via conversation and not through the big screen. You also have more chances of having adventures on your own instead of watching other peoples and can create your own memories.

To Burn..or Not to Burn...THAT is the question!

In our ever increasing day of technology I am often faced with the same dilema over and over and over...do I burn cd's or not? Where do I stand morally on this issue, as someone who does not have a lot of money to buy all the cd's I'd like to own, and with it being labled illegal piracy?

What do you think?