Well gosh darn. Here we are a month out from the last post. I have a pretty good excuse – I spent a week of that month partaking in dubious Mardis Gras related activities in New Orleans, including getting dangerously close to getting my feet run over by large slow moving vehicles (some of us never learn) while begging for ‘throws,’ accepting rides from a strangers of questionable sobriety, roaming the streets of the french quarter in the early morning with a granny cart full of beer, and watching marathons of True Detective alone at 4am.
bitch you don’t know my life
Ellen’s excuse is something lame like school or whateverrr.
Oh ya, we’ve also been really busy wearing animal onesies. It takes a lot of time and commitment to harness the energy invoked when donning this fine piece of attire. We’ll get back to you when our arduous work in this regard is done. Til then… work yo back!
In honor of my freshly booked upcoming trip to New Orleans for Mardis Gras I wanted to once again discuss the horses of the New Orleans PD.
Once I posted about the trillest equine – the one who casually dips into strip joints while on duty.
Well there are also some haters among those ranks. This police officer is also displaying extremely wack behaviour. Trying to hit unsuspecting innocent tourists? NOT TRILL.
haters everywhere I go
What is it with horses man? Maybe they saw me engaging in some pretty wack behaviour of my own?
also un-trill behaviour
***For the record my days of jumping into cop cars were LONG ago and are very far behind me. I’m like a responsible professional now who fears and respects the law. ***
So off to New Orleans I go, hopefully for more spirited encounters with my zany equine acquaintances! Stay tuned …
started from the top now we made it to the bottom
Moments are captured and then things change.
A turn of events can happen any time.
One person pictured, who will remain unnamed but may or may not be wearing some sassy spikes, proceeded change her entire perspective. Literally.
As in, she wanted to get a different viewpoint. Like maybe a real close look at the pavement.
As in, she put in a good fight but in the end lost to the cobblestones.
As in, the slowest and most graceful faceplant yours truly has ever had the privilege to witness – and I’ve seen a few.
Faceplants will forever be held to a higher standard thanks to my remarkable friends.
Hi blog. This whole ‘carellyn’ thing was initially going to be a blog (ugh what a word) in the truest sense of the word – ie. Web Log of our lives. As 2013 is coming to a close – a turning point that really can’t come quickly enough – I thought I would document some of my trials and tribulations of this past year.
But before I unleash a torrent* of sarcasm & negativity, and to be in the spirit of American Thanksgiving, I want to make clear that I *AM* incredibly grateful for many things – my loved ones and their general health, living in a place where I am safe and afforded some pretty cool human rights, that I am employed in a really inspiring way and with amazing mentors, and that my cat isn’t an asshole. I’m grateful for other stuff too but those are first to come to mind.
Something else for which I’m grateful: having access to a cool family cottage! I went with a bunch of friends over Labor Day weekend. I had *just* been cleared by my physiotherapist to play hockey again after a knee surgery. Something to celebrate!
the backyard: lake huron
The cottage is decorated really adorably with lots of cool shabby chic pieces and a lighthouse MOTIF. Motif is capitalized because well if you saw the place you’d understand. We had a really fun first two nights playing with my traveling photo booth (ie. Polaroid camera and costumes/props) and bananagrams. I have to give credit where credit is due and say the winners of Banagrams are Becky and Jordan. #iheartBJ. (Wedding livetweet hashtag? I think so.)
beat that- no pun intended
Compared to last year’s trip – which while I really did enjoy everyone’s company some really devastating relationship events had occurred prior that made it less of a peaceful retreat into nature punctuated by casual alcohol abuse and more of a running for our lives away from severe trauma into a rainy weekend of isolation – this weekend was going swimmingly. Oh but wait.
Trauma + Swimming. Cue Jaws Theme.
I’m being over dramatic, no one got killed by a shark. But I did personally experience some water-borne trauma. Which I can’t even get to right now because fortunately I do have a day job that is demanding some attention. The wordpress daily prompt about fear inspired this post but I didn’t quite get to that part. And honestly I just really wanted an excuse to post that Bananagrams picture. To be continued.
*Edit: Turned out to be less like a ‘torrent’ and more like mild drip from a leaky tap because I didn’t get to the really good in how awful it was part of the story ….
This photo suspends a moment in time:
After we had embarked on our first backpacking trip // before we were unceremoniously kicked out of Scotland
After we were accused of stealing a remote control // before we knew the allegation was serious
After we thought we had a cheering section // before we realized it was just one crusty heckler
Before we knew what was coming*
*Full stories perhaps some other time // response to the daily prompt
pedaling along, a little fish in beijing’s sea of bicycles, felt more like navigating fate than roads
remembering which of those windows of the concrete behemoth was mine felt more impossible every day over 6 weeks
trapped outside in the dead of a sharp china winter at 3am, and as the night turned into morning felt more like comedy than crisis
watching those military men march down the hallway toward us in the building into which we had trespassed felt more like this might end up being an awesome story but elspeth will lose her shit if she sees them than maybe i shouldn’t trespass in highly oppressive foreign countries
*** response to daily prompt intense, and perhaps the beginnings of an attempt to participate in NaBloPoMo. “Do it!!!” says my terrible jerk of a broken leg.
YOU KNEW THIS POST WAS COMING…
There are a lot of dope horses we encounter on a daily basis. See pictured
some of the homies
But none compare to the horses of the New Orleans Police Department (official slogan and tagline: ‘I don’t know’ eg: ‘I don’t know why the streets are blocked off,’ ‘I don’t know when the streetcars will run again,’ ‘I don’t know why you are asking me questions it is not as though I am a public servant and an officer of the law,’ etc…).
Once years ago in the seedy haze of Bourbon Street we saw a NOLA PD horse go into a strip club. Well, it tried, and it had a hard time getting through the door. But it definitely got its head in and managed to get a ‘peep’ of ‘Little Darlings.’ That’s the whole story. It really happened. Ellen’s visual recreation of that timeless moment: