When in Rome, eat your KD with ketchup

I just made (and ate) a pot of Kraft Dinner. As I poured ketchup on it I suddenly remembered a moment from my youth.

It was the summer of 1992, the summer I turned 15, memorable for a number of reasons, not the least an incredibly scary riding accident that could have killed me and for being indirectly struck by lightning. This has nothing to do with either event.

That summer I was lucky enough to attend a session at an incredibly posh riding camp in the Ottawa valley. It was the kind of camp that brought rich kids from around North America (and the Caribbean, if I recall), including diplomats' children, a number of whom brought their own horses for the entire summer. In one way, however, it was just like most camps: food was questionable at best.

Except for their macaroni and cheese. It's damned hard to screw it up, even in bulk. Mac & cheese was a saving grace. We all looked forward to it. I was sitting with other girls my age and two of them were from the USA. One was a strawberry-blonde princess from one of the Carolinas, I think South. The other I want to say came from California, but I don't remember for sure. The rest of the table was made up of Canadians.

As we came back to our table with our heaping helpings, every Canadian kids at the table reached for the ketchup bottle and whether they put it on top and mixed it in, or on the side, each one of us used it. I remember looking up at the two American girls and they both wore expressions of sheer revulsion and horror. The princess might even have moaned in disgust.

"That is absolutely disgusting," said the dark haired Californian girl, who was an incredibly talented rider.

"Oh my gawd," echoed the princess, "I think I'm going to be sick. How can you eat that?!"

The rest of us exchanged glances and most of us said, "What?" in unison.

"Ketchup... on your macaroni and cheese," answered both girls.

Again we exchanged looks. Someone was going to have to defend it. But who? I stepped up. "No, no, try it, it's good."

"No way."

"Here, try a bite of mine," I urged, having fully mixed my ketchup in as I am wont to do. "It really won't kill you, and maybe you'll like it." I gestured to the rest of the table and was encouraged by enthusiastic nodding.

"But it looks so... gross." The princess looked like her resolve was crumbling. She glanced at the Californian who sat with her arms crossed firmly shaking her head.

I pushed my plate toward the princess and smiled, "Look around the room. We're not the freaks here." The princess picked up her fork and held it tentatively over my plate. "Come on, I'm not telling you to jump off a bridge, it's food and it's good."

We watched in silence as she slowly dug in her fork and raised the orange pasta to her lips. The Californian looked appalled. "Go on," I encouraged, "I bet you'll like it."

"Oh my gawd !" she cried, loudly enough to turn heads at other tables. We all watched with wide eyes. "That is SO GOOD !" We all cheered and applauded and the princess reached for the bottle of ketchup.

The Californian was grimacing. "I can't believe you like it. No one does that to their mac and cheese in our country."

I was going to say something, but before I could, the princess turned and spread her hands, "Well duh, we're in Canada now. Gawd."

Larry Bagnell = Love

There's just something about Larry Bagnell, Member of Parliament for the Yukon Territory. Even people who normally profess their hatred for the Liberals love Larry. Larry's a cool dude. He has some incredible magic ability to be everywhere all at once, at tons of community events and still be in Ottawa when the House is sitting. He's nice, personable, fun, comes across honest and good-natured and... well, everyone loves Larry.

Last night I went to his annual summer barbecue, which while a grill was grilling skewers, it was more of an Asian thing than burger thing, in that the Filipino community was out cooking and doing sort of generic Asian yummies. It was nice. Oh, and it was free. I was really impressed at the cross-section of people that came out for it, and all the different sorts shaking Larry's hand. Good times.

In other news, this has been a bad week, which I'm not going to talk about right now. Instead, I present you with a two-nosed dog !!

No pressure

It's kind of nice to be posting to my weblog without pressure. I really did enjoy the Blogathon and I hope to do it again next year. I almost made 400 bucks this year for the Humane Society of Canada, which is great, but I hope next year to do better. Maybe a different charity, too. I really would have liked to do it for the local shelter, but they have no online donation form, so that made it impossible according to the rules of Blogathon. Oh well.

We were interviewing today for the Internship position with the Gallery. We had thought (hoped?) that we'd have had a clear leader in the candidates, but following the interviews, we were kind of hard-pressed to decide. This is why we ask for references, I guess. Anyway, all the shortlisted candidates really have something going for them.

Anyway, I don't actually have a lot to say, but I thought I'd better post an entry or I might lose interest again, and I really don't want that to happen. I've been writing in the blog since October 2001. It seems so long ago; certainly it is a lifetime ago, based on where I was then, and what I was doing at the time.

So, what was I doing? I was attending Seneca's digital media school doing computer animation. I had hopes of a career in video games or film. I'm still in touch with one of the students, Brian, and he managed to score the job, working at Bioware. I was not, however, living at home and rent-free so I couldn't devote all my time to creating mods with him. I had to work and an apartment to pay for.

Today, after work, I went shopping and found wild pink salmon on the store shelves. Once in a while, living in Whitehorse has its perks. I barbecued the little pink steaks, made a white/wild rice base and salad and finished it all up with a fresh fruit salad that included the strawberries I'm growing on my porch. Yummy. And, sure, rent is still a struggle, but a lot less of one, and I own a new car and pay my bills myself, mostly without the help of my mother. Ya, I guess I've come a ways since 2001.