O.k. it's done. I've handed over my credit card number, and I'm officially registered for the next CGA course on the list. Only took me... um... eight months to actually get to it. No, of course I wasn't procrastinating.
Just like how I wasn't procrastinating about the "owning a car" situation. I've kind of, sort of, put it out to my network, that a vehicle purchase was in order. For one, the Sherwood Park incident a week ago didn't improve things (though we do have a new battery now). But is still took a trip to Edmonton for Angela, a promise that I would spend Saturday with her, and then for her to use that promise to get me into the car dealers, and into some cars. Boy these psychological barriers are fun to overcome!
If anything, most of the day was a laugh. I saw the stereotypical used car salesman, in brown suit and stripped tie slightly askewed, something greasy about him... though I couldn't put my finger on it... Offered to teach me how to drive standard. If I bought the car. Followed by an eye-widening moment when I climbed into a Honda Civic: My head hit the ceiling! What the heck?! Ah, vertically adjustable seats. Just turn the dial, and I can feel like a giant too. Driving Dad's car definitely has me trained... weight trained, resistance trained... Who knew these new cars were so sensitive? I was feeling emensely sorry for the salesman who had to sit through my starts and stops, and sharp turns, reminiscent of student driver parodies... And now I know how much of a workout I'm actually getting while driving Dad's car :)
Spending the whole day driving and with with my sister... *sigh* I wish I could say we got along fine, but in reality, my head and stomach were hurting, and I couldn't wait to get bed.
I woke up in a panic. Less than 2 weeks to Wild Rose! Ack! Um... sometimes a full 8 hours of sleep and clear thinking isn't such a good thing. Pushed the thought away, more pressing matter: Thanksgiving dinner at Malcolm's.
Malcolm greeted us with "I have no clue what I'm doing." He was in charge of "the bird". But everything looked more than fine, and it smelled nice. Not long after though, things fell into chaos! Twice the estimated number of people arrived. Too many chefs in kitchen. An incredibly cute eggplant was found. Lana was armed with a camera:
(And Blogger is giving me picture posting problems again... so... let's go around it...) Malcolm carved the bird sans book, and we ate. There was tofu (yay!), blackberry sauce, gravy, potatoes, cheesebaked cauliflower, bread... Funny how Qian, Na, and I were most interested in the turkey bones. Dinner melded into dessert, and many math (with an odd splash of other) jokes. We retired to the sitting room to listen to Rem on piano and Graham on double bass. And finally, rolling off the couch, we headed home.
I didn't think I could do any more eating for a long time. But Nick promised to take me out for lunch the next day. So off to the Sugarbowl! (*laugh* Only a few more days to the End!) First time inside and sitting down. Liked the art, and the menu ("Harvest Burger: Home-crafted out of four-beans, three seeds, two grains, and a fruit.") He presented me with a Lana-sized hat, and we talked about other things that I procrastinate on...
Being a bit behind schedule worked in my favour: Celina and Kevin had fun taking out their aggression on the potatoes. My attempt at fowl for Thanksgiving didn't stray too far from my usual fare. I made a chicken with garlic recipe, doubled. So, lots of garlic and lots of chicken, all cooked in its own gravy juices. 
The sun was strange... columnar. But it did set, so we got on with Feasting. 
And, then somehow the talk turned to what needs to be done to get Paul as the permanent ESO tuba player. Maybe "take out" the current one...? Oh, but he is friend. (Don't worry, Scott.) 
It's been a serious dance weekend with workshops, OPDS duty followed by training. We worked on Latin connection (to be dancing with the other person energy connection point must exist between the shoulders and between the two people) and character... yikes! 
Learned also that Danielle swears by a system called "Yamuna Body Rolling" to stay pain free and healthy. It's a combination of massage and stretching done together with balls and half balls... hm... must look more into this. Can dance be pain-free? 
(Right: Ken sporting a daper Movember mustache.)
Ken and Sophie arrive a little bit later and bring dessert: A strawberry rubarb crisp. 
Most of us were too full and ready to give it a wait. Rem and Erik however...
Kirsten "dodged the karaoke bullet", but the rest of us had a bit of fun channeling our inner rock stars for a song. Michael was MJ with "Billy Jean". Kathy mesmerised us with her version of "Wind Beneath My Wings". Sophie helped us figure out just what "Hot Stuff" was about. It was agreed that aside from the lyrics (which got us laughing) there was also "something" about over-the-top synthesisers that can delight and make us dance. I think a fieldtrip to an 80s dance club is really really needed. 
karaoke, declined to sing. But after we did our rounds, he did pick up the guitar and lead us in a sing-a-long. I love "Blackbird" a heck of lot, but I don't know words. Later, when Rem took up the guitar, the same realisation came to a few of us with "Hallelujah". Rem prompted, we mumbled... granted we each had a different version in our heads (Rufus Wainwright!). Erik's iPhone and access to the internet helped a little with other songs with many words. We probably could have kept going and going, but instead we shortened "American Pie" and called it a night. 
twinkle in her eye, Beth named our bird: Turkey Travis. And Turkey Travis met the barbeque. 
the turkey neck), and I began meeting some new Mathies. One was Paul, from England and a professor. One was Jamie, an American, who worked with fish. It was he who made the potato buns that caught Steph's eye (tastebuds?). I tried to glean the recipe from him to gain Steph's favour... but to no avail. Obviously he knew he had the advantage. 
Dinner at Erik's for his "auxiliary backup turkey day" (American Thanksgiving) was silly as predicted. (right) Rem was not wearing a hat... therefore he had to be bear-headed.
