A'dam: Wereld Stad

Yesterday was wonderful! After three days of delightful but unknowlingly rather oppressive family, we escaped (thanks to Nederlanse Spoorwegen) to Amsterdam. First we wandered over canals to the Noord Kerk (north church), and ate apple pie (the best dutch kind) and coffee in an obviously popular cafe on the corner. We had to wait for a while with tray in hand for a space to become available. From there we walked to the Dam square (which houses the Grand Kransnapolski hotel, the Palace, the New Church, the Bijkorf, and Madam Tussads). We'd done it all before, so walked through the shopping streets to the Van Gogh Musem. We spent a few delightful hours there. Can you believe that in the two months before he killed himself, VG made 80 paintings? That's more than one a day! From there we wandered through a market, broodje kroket and patat in hand. On the other end we found a little bar from eons ago, and went on a bit of a pub crawl through all the oldest bars in A'dam. When we were feeling warm, we decided to check out Ocean's 12, and were very much pleased (especially since part of it takes place in Amsterdam). Finally, we got soarma and donerkebab for the way home (extra garlic sauce) and ran for the train.

The idea for today was to repeat in Rotterdam, but the conditions outside are slightly uncondusive to a day of wandering around the city. Instead, we'll stay inside with books and emails.

Arrived

After a three hour delay in the Toronto airport (well spent reading A House for Mr. Biswas by Naipaul), I found myself on the plane seated between to men, visible polar opposites. To my left was the tall skinny pale nervous guy, and to my right was the shorter squater darker sort of odorous guy. Turns out, from my conversations with each, that they were also internally polar opposites also. With one I spoke about the spectroscopic measurement of flames he was doing for his post doctoral research, and spoke French with him about everything else under the sun. With the other I talked about his flight squeemishness, and how he resolved it by his faith in Allah and by reading the Qu'ran during take off and landing, and later I helped him determine whether the cereal bar we were given was halal. It was interesting because both had such definite world views and hard set beliefs, but they came from extremely different places. I felt a bit like the middle ground, with my tendecy towards atheism, and my scientific skepticism.

Now I'm here in The Netherlands, reflecting on a delightful flight, and a delightful fish dinner, and a still more delightful breakfast, waiting for the rest of the delight that is in store for me.

Day One: Freedom

My first day post-exams: delightful, mixed with occassional bouts of stress due to the overwhelming feeling that there was something that I was supposed to be doing. Hope that this feeling will become less frequent as the christmas vacation progresses. In general, this freaks me out, because the level of stress I felt this semester is out of line.

Today:
-Woke up late (10am)
-Cleaned the house a bit
-Welcomed friend Kate who spent the semester in England
-Looked at photos and was filled in a bit
-Spent three hours traversing urbania with Kate in tow: Yorkville, Downtown, Zara, Capezio, the Munk Centre for International Studies, UofT, Red Room, China Town, The Annex, Honest Eds and back through Greektown and home again.
-Decorated the house with tacky Honest Eds and Chinatown decorations while watching Love Actually (freaked out on the couch a couple of times thinking I was supposed to be doing something.)
-Mel joined: Kraft dinner and Wolf Blass, followed by Shrek two and a small amount of arts and crafts.

And so begins my vacation.

notes

The semester from hell (well mostly, I learned a lot which is delightful) is now over. Holy mother Thank YOU!

Time to start the readings for next semester...I mean MAKE THINGS- it's like I've been waiting forever for this.

And Cheers to closer friends in Olivia. you're mask-tastic.

Gotta get through this

I struggle with 'getting through it' phases of life. I quite like life in general, and there are some really excessively great bits, but sometimes I find that I try, but can't seem to like what's going on. I mean, I can see technically that I shouldn't hate it, and there's lots of great things going on at the same time, but my emotions are just not responding favourably. Perhaps an example will be more illustrative. I am in my third year crunch: the past two weeks have been the hardest academically to get through so far in my uni career, and I can't wait for the next two to be over, because they're mental as well. But in my heart I feel that I shouldn't hate it- I like school, and I don't like having 'get through it' times because I feel that then all the normal (like school, work) bits of my life will be get throughs to the exceptionally good bits. Maybe what I'm asking of myself is to just enjoy everyday life more, and that's the problem. I used to like everyday life much better than I do right now, but I feel like I should right now also because the same things are going on. Also, I would like to be able to control my happiness...say that I'm going to be happy about this and then-ta da- I would be happy about it. And then eventually I wouldn't have to think about it, I would just be happy about everything (or most things). People suggest that I should pay attention to the good details more, but I don't think that's the issue- I see good things everywhere, my heart just doesn't see them. I suppose it's an issue of needing to be surprised by joy: one can't look for it. But how do I stop looking?

Party analysis

Why is it that I only party in Europe? Do we have some going out deficiency here in Canada? Is it the people I hang out with? It seems that it's so much of an effort here, cause you've gotta get all fancied up, and end up taxiing home, money... lineups, bla bla bla. I miss being in the same place every friday night in Doetinchem; what does it take for that to happen here? I'm sure that it's got a lot to do with me and my butterflys about coordinating outings- I never want to lead the way and have it be a failure! I think it also has to do with only having a limited number of friends here...in Victoria it's easier, though not as great as in Holland, because you know that you'll know someone no matter what. Even in Montreal I found it tough, even with the copious venues, as I felt I didn't really have anyone to ask, and even those I did it stressed me out to plan something. Basically, I just wanna be able to call someone up, and go for a beer, and then dance my ass off, without it being such a hassle!

So, this becomes my homework: find a venue to enable zero stress going out, go...with or without a posse, and one day a posse will develop.

Test for Landmines

WE're having a forum YAY!

Kate "Clean Clothes" Jongbloed

A moment of happiness, a moment of elation. During the time I spent in Scarborough today, a washer miraculously appeared in our kitchen! It's ugly and bootleg, and who knows where it came from and when its function will be replaced with our own functioning washer, but for right now I'm just exctatic at the prospect of clean underwear! clean socks! more vetement choice! I had resorted to a new value village wardrobe every week to get over this hump of non-laundry (I calculated and figured it would only be about twice as expensive as using the laundromat, and it would be money more lastingly spent in the long run as I would still wear the new clothes after our washer was returned in full working order, and it had the bonus of minimizing my insatiable appetite for clothes shopping.), but now the long loved staples will be back in rotation!

So, I'm currently in a mad rush to get as many loads done before my competition for washer access returns in the form of roommates. I figure I can at least get two or three loads through, and also get first dibs on the drying racks, which will certainly not go far given the amount of dirty laundry that will get clean tonight! I can just picture a gloriously messy house, covered top to bottom, on every available drying space, with our assorted styles and style mistakes!

Hurrah!

Stagnant Blog

I wonder, given my lack of interest in blogs (specifically mine) at the moment, if anyone will read this blog. However, in this case the tree still exists even if noone hears it fall.

I am in a one track mode right now. This year is all about PLACEMENT. Yes, three years ago when I decided I wanted to pursue an education in International Development, I was largely swayed by the prospect of one year overseas working in a development situation. And so, preparation for that year is now upon me...inside me...in my head, on my tongue, in my inbox. Some things are becoming clearer: I will actually find myself in a country of the Global South in 9 months or less. I am excited and scared shitless at this notion, fearing curling iron withdrawl and a general sense of uselessness/helplessness. I also know that there are some VERY interesting initiatives going on in the world with the intent to alleviate poverty, and I'm interested in being part of one (or more as life goes on).

I find myself in meetings with potential employers, excited about their projects and mandate, or in others, afraid at the responsibility and self-direction that is required of me. I am conscious of my marks, of the potential to apply the things I'm learning in class, and the state of my resume.

These being the thoughts cycling through my head, I think it's important also to look at the linear and the concrete that is also present in my thoughts: I would really like to find myself in South Asia next year, working with people who I learn from and who direct me successfully in a project that I feel is useful and productive in the face of extreme inequality. Period. This being said, I'm sure that wherever I end up, it will be an experience like none other- perhaps one that I will be loath to repeat, but one that helps me learn about the world a whole lot more and propells me out of academia into real life.

So, stay tuned for my placement wows and woes. Perhaps I'll write more from Anuradhapura?

Kate

Yo

I think that fall is my favourite season. I always go in for transition, although I tend not to deal with it very well. Fall is one of those times that catches up (or slows down) to fit my state of mind. I feel like a cozy and solitary but on the go person most of the time, and fall is that time of year. You bundle up to go out, but still go out. Everything feels so alive, and the weather is perfect for my favourite new look: old man chic. Thank you value village for your trench coats and wool pants. Anyway, I must go and enjoy my season. Peace.

It's getting cold in here.

Bah. Winter is setting in. It is one of those yummy sundays where you're unlikely to venture out of the house, as you're content to avoid adventure for the day. The colours of my bedroom were made for days like this, and so were miso soup lunches. My housemate Jen is wandering around with a vivid pink scarf around her neck, and the cold really is just making things more warm.

I am struggling with a paper that calls for me to revolutionize development. Of course I'm struggling. If I could just slip one novel or innovative idea in I would be content. Alas, I feel academically marginalized to such an extent, which combined with a general dissatisfaction with development as a notion makes it virtually impossible to complete the assignment.

And in my current state of coziness and overflowing creativity (it's been one of those months...one of those that I've never had before), I just want to MAKE SOMETHING! With this in mind I have resolved to perhaps allow myself an hour or two to convert my flowerpot bench into an ottoman. Wish me luck.

Kate

M.Dot

Am in Montreal once again, if only for a moment. As we approached (I was driving!), I felt this wave of emotion (as it seems that all emotion comes in waves, no matter how generic that may sound) fill me with love and excitement for being back. And as we drove up St Laurent, I felt at home, and that I fit in. It's a reaction that I didn't expect, as I've been so happy in Toronto. I guess I'll just have to reserve a smidgen of my future to come back here.

Hurrah for happiness.

life

I feel like I have a lot of posts that are entitled life. I define life sort of separate from living. Right now I'm in a life phase, because my days are full full full, but I've got no exceptional stories to recount as a result. I wake up at 7, eat breakfast, go to school, maybe go to work or the gym or do homework, and sometimes paint, go out, and eat gyros, which fills my day completely until 11:30 when I fall into bed exhausted. Then, of course, it starts all over again. Living, on the other hand, provides the kind of entertainment I know you, the four that read my blog, love and want.

However, I must admit that I'm finding huge satisfaction and general happiness as a result of life right now. I'm keeping up with myself for the first time in ages, and producing output. Hurrah. Really, I don't know anyway else to explain it.

No-Value Mart

So, I've done it before and I'll do it again. This blog is part Kate, part comparative food shopping/vending exploits. Perhaps that is me?

I went to the local Valu-Mart today, and as usual the entire experience was ridiculous. Perhaps my supermarket perceptions are warped because of my tremendous epicerie experiences in Montreal (see previous posts for details), but I don't think so. There was one time when there was a two per customer limit on toilet paper, and the couple infront of me was trying to buy six packages. I stepped in and offered to buy the third pair, so they handed me the money and I gave it to the cashier. Instead of a simple, "sorry, you can't do that", I got a verbal melodrama on how she was going to lose her job because of us and bla bla bla. Another crucial factor in the Valu-Mart's ridiculous masquerade as somewhere I'd really like to spend the 6oclock dash for tonight's dinner is the fact that they hire hairnetted old women to restock the shelves instead of delightful young men (think Thrifties Produce Boys....hawt.) Also, they're having a phase now of selling President's Choice credit cards. It's always the same guy, but he asks me to sign up every time, both on my way in and way out.

But, today, it was probably the most practical disappointment I've experienced at No-Valu Mart. I went in for three items: (knowing full well that I'd end up with more) soft tortillas, yogurt and milk. First, they have no whole wheat tortillas. Fine, okay, they can only get a limited amount each day to ensure that they don't have surplus because they won't be able to sell it anymore because it's not fresh. Okay. Second, yogurt. The store didn't have any plain skim yogurt. None. Not even the expensive brand. And I was there at the time of day when everyone does their shopping, on a weekday! Milk I had no trouble with but then came the extra items. Popcorn. I seriously went up and down every possible isle looking for it...except obviously the frozen food section where it would not have been. Wrong. There it was, right next to the door to the back, next to the halibut nuggets and lean cuisine. It's not the first time I've had trouble finding stuff there. I went for nacho chips, and there weren't any. Ridiculous, no? Okay, today I found where they are hidden...in the mexican food isle, nowhere near the chips and pop!

AAAAArrrrgggg! All I ask for is for a well organized grocery store, with reasonable prices and friendly faces. Will every shopping trip be a hike out of my neigbourhood or a battle with nonexistant logic and unhappy staff? Shoot me now.

Neutrality

I know that I've talked to some of you about it already, but I just wanted to say it here. I've been feeling very intellectually neutral lately, as though there's a lot going in but not a lot coming out as a result. I've becoming introverted, not only socially, but academically as well. I have a tutorial class where one gets marks for participation, but I fear speaking up. Elizabeth Bennett (Pride and Prejudice) once said, "We don't like to speak unless we'll say something that will amaze the whole room," and I often feel that way. The discussion we have is nothing but regurgitation of the text or the class, said as if it was our own. Yet I can't seem to rise above that type of conversation myself. I want to amaze the whole room!

Ah Ha!

I am online again. Hurrahrific.

My mum is here visiting in Toronto. It's great to spend time with her, as it's been a while, but more than that too: this is the first time she's come to visit me at my house. Prior to this, she's never seen the way I live when I'm not at home in BC. For the past year, I've had a whole life- friends, routines, habitat- that she's never seen before. I'm glad that now when I chat to her on the phone, she'll know what I"m talking about. She'll know the comute to school, but that it's worth it not to live in Scarborough. She'll know who Sarah is when I tell her it's her birthday. She'll know where I'm sitting when I tell her I'm emailing her from the library.

It's always strange to have a past life and a present one overlap. Jess is in town from Montreal...there's overlap there too. I guess I should perhaps categorize less?

I'm back.

Love Kate

Woodbine and Danforth

In my new house in Toronto. Wow. Toronto isn't Montreal, and I can't really deal. But, at the same time, it's good to be here, and I'm having fun in our new house. I got my metro pass and I feel a bit more mobile, but it's nothing like turning a corner and buying beer at the dep. Forgive me for comparing, dear Toronto. I can't help it!

I'm strict into my getting ready for school regime: getting up by 9 each day, not drinking coffee, sleeping by 11 and getting things done. A bit different than the summer no?

I'm in limbo right now, without furniture, without plates...it was different in res because at least one had a bed and a dresser! Thankfully, Ella is moving in on Thursday and bestowing upon me a magnificent futon! The rest must be gleaned from trips to Honest Ed's and Ikea (which my dad claims is not meeting its former standards.)

And so, such is life...a hodge podge of to do and finished and what next.

What next?

The Prodigy

Tee hee. JF just bought me the new Prodigy cd and it rocks my world. I had tried to strategically line up for the listening station at HMV without cramping the guy's style who was on it, or pressure him to leave. So, I threw the earphones of another station on, so I wouldn't look like I was loitering. Alas, in the time it took me to do that, the switch had happened and I had missed my chance. When I finally got it, I shook my booty right there in the store! Hurrah!

Funny how the cd case is so so so similar to the new Basement Jaxx. Anyway, hurrah for owning cds, as I don't unless someone gives them to me!

This cd is good for an emotional day. I'm a bit up and down today, as one of my roommates left for BC today, I'm about to head back to Toronto, and it doesn't feel that i've got everything figured out (like a bed???). Also, it's sad to leave this wonderful wonderful city...not only am I leaving it behind, but the part of me that is Montreal- because that is definitly not university. Anyway, from my perspective change is always good. Dan Cownden who came to visit us this summer here said that it's best to leave anything, or stop eating anything, just before you get sick of it.

Love Kate

PS- HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATE!!!

EOS

A day off. What do I do with myself, really? Well, breakfast is for sure. Then I've got oodles of logistics stuff to work out, as the next two weeks are going to be mayhemic. The St Laurent St Sale is this weekend, so I"ll be making sanwiches 12 hrs a day for the next four days, then heading to Brennan's going away party before perhaps hitting New York with JF for a few days. Then I've gotta make sure I've got all I need, stuff wise, to get into a car with Mila and drive back to Toronto, where i live in a house I don't even know the address of! Holy Fuck!

It's just great that I always feel like I"m doing something exciting.

Love Kate

Ps Hello to anyone on placement who reads these?

Gratuit

If I were to pick my top ten of Montreal, which I'm not, I would definitly include Moving Day. From what I've heard, once upon a time rent was very very cheap here, especially in the Plateau district where I live. So, people got into the habit of moving as often as they wanted, and for some reason that was all the time. Whenever they move, they leave all the things that they don't want on the side of the street. This means that the days around the first of the month provide for excellent scavenging. Last month, I went out with the Moving Day Guru, Batman, and found a mint condition (and very comfy) computer chair, and a huge ornate mirror. The two went well together in terms of transport home. Today I found a wooden dresser, which I will sand and prime today, and eventually paint (when I figure out how I want it.) All I still need is a desk, and I'm set for Toronto. Of course there's still a bed as well, but there are limits to what one will pick up off the street! Another win for No Budget Decorating.

NoBudget Decor

Lordy lordy am I a happy camper. I just finished a full day of painting, moving, painting, and rearranging. I heart decorating. The long story is that Jess, our summer roommate, has two rooms, and Brennan and I had to figure out who got which one. It was a tough deal because one is magnificent: huge comfy bed, desk, wardrobe, almost floor to almost ceiling windows, and basically just a way bigger squarefootage. The other room contained an ugly laminate floor, an uncomfy futon, a undelightful terracotta coloured wall, a window opening onto the noisy courtyard and the multi use computer (therefore a fair bit of traffic). I had the amazing room for 2 months (though Bren often shared the bed with me), and now have traded into the small room. I wasn't sleeping well, and was just plain disatisfied.

So, today we fixed it. Inspired by a new orange and pink mosaic mirror from a garage sale, Jess and I got to work. Twelve hours later, the computer is in our common space, I have a desk so I don't invade Bren's room, my bed is no longer under the window, the ugly wall is a nice sunny yellow, and the accessories (picture frames, clock, decorative records, lightswitches, paintings, etc) are all colour coordinated with the new mirror. I would say it's a bit of a candy room. The best thing about it is that Jess, who has a very different style from me (aka stolen icecream signs, Homestar runner paraphernalia, and billions of friend photos) still shines through with all the bright colours. That's important because it's her office during the year. As it stands, the transition will be simple- and an improvement from last semester. And...it only cost us $15!!!

Hurrah!

I used to redoo my room in Victoria at least twice a year, and not only did the finished product refresh me, but the process thrilled me. It's no different here. Perhaps 'Kate's No-Budget Student Decor, Inc.' is in my future?

Pavot, Sesame, Nature

Today I might have accidentally have bought way too many bagels. Should I start from the beginning? Earlier, I manipulated my way into a shift at work that perfectly made my week to 40 hours (11-2). I got home and it was ridiculously hot, so with a lot of effort I got myself off of the couch and ready for an adventure to Fairmount Bagels, which is about a 15 minute bike ride away, but makes the best bagels in the city. I'd never made the trip unsupervised before.

My first boob happened before i even left the house: I chose to wear my grey miniskirt. I can safely say that I've flashed every inhabitant in Montreal between Prince Arthur and Fairmount. I had to deposit my gst cheque (woo hoo) in the bank in the other direction, so I went there first, flash flash flashing all the way, and in general fearing for my life because of the sketchiness of the bike I was riding (one half brake...or maybe I should call it a "slow", pedals in a wonky angle, curly handlebars that aren't fixed very tightly, flat tires and basically a little too big for me...). I deposited the money, and went to get avocado and tomato to go with my prospective bagel sandwiches.

While I was in the store, a freak rain storm broke out, and so me, a granny in a moomoo (???) and the Clowns Sans Frontiers camped out in the grocery store for a while. Eventually, the weather chilled out a bit, and I took off again, flash flash flash. I made it to the bagel store, and stood in line, planning my order in French. I wanted half a dozen; a mix of poppy, plain and sesame. Unfortunatly, it must have come out as "please give me lots and lots and lots of bagels," because I ended up with 3 half dozens. I was too embarassed to correct the mistake, so I paid and left.

The ride home was going really well...there was no stop signs like there had been on the way, and I was just cruising along. Then I realized that the reason I had no stop signs was because I was going the wrong way down a one way street, and so they didn't indicate to wrong way traffic where to stop. So basically it was just really really lucky that I didn't get hit. Anyway, now I'm home and safe and will sit down, pop Big Fish in the VCR and eat my 1.5 dozen Fairmount Bagels.

Hier

Yesterday was perhaps my favourite so far this summer. I woke up late, and did some self maintenance before meeting our new found fabulous fabulous friend Ray for lunch. He took me out to Zenya, this delightfully chic and tasty sushi restaurant high up in a building on St Catherines Street. Tres delicieuse! I wandered around the underground world of the Bay and the Eaton's centre, and emerged in Little Italy (with help of the Metro) at about 4pm. I had a visual meal of the Jean Talon market, and sat on a little terrace with a cappuccino and A Prayer for Owen Meany. I wandered back along St. Laurent Street to my house, where I found Brennan on the balcony. We ate grapes (what you never thought you'd miss by not living with your parents, until you realized how expensive they are...except in Montreal) and discussed our extreme singledom, after which I had a nap. Brennan woke me at 8, and we went to Ceramic Cafe to paint pots and giggle. The night was topped off with an adventure with Roz and Bren to le Parking, a multi tiered discotheque in the Gay Village. Thursdays is straight friendly night. I was in bed by about 3, and up early this morning ready for the 12 hour shift ahead of me at the deli.

The nice things about days like yesterday is that once you've had one, they're easily repeated.

Love Kate

Today

Yes, these posts are few and far between. Somehow I've managed to kick my computer addiction, but I"m sure it will be back in full force in September. In short, life is good, MOntreal is fun, I'm an over analyst and work in general blows goats.

Oranje

Ah. The Virus is gone. I have my own computer once again, and there is noone staying in our guest room for the moment (only for the moment), so I can breathe and blog.

Since the last series of less than enthusiastic blogs, my general temperament has become much better. I seem to have reached an equilibrium between work and play...though there are some extras I should also be working on (must pick and sign up for my courses by next wednesday.)

I know that this sounds nearly terrible, but others inability to cope in certain situations makes me realize that my capability is actually greater than I sometimes think. Lately, the deli has been mayhem, first with the steet fair, and now since Mila (the store manager) has left. Occasionally I feel my irk increasing, but mostly I just do my best. Many of the others get more and more pessamistic, more and more stressed. I may worry, and I may over analyze, but luckily not nearly as much as some people. Funny that the deli always helps put things in perspective for me.

In other news, Vive le Pays Bas!

Love kate

OOps

Don't think I finished my last blog. Sorta indicative of how I feel about Kidding Just at the moment...about how I feel in general. Perhaps General should be a proper noun. I'm in a fabulous city, and a fabulous part of a fabulous city, but feel bored and alone a lot of the time. I think it's a product of living surrounded by people for the past year that I've completely forgotten what it was like to entertain myself, as I've done in every other city I've ever been to, apart from Toronto. I try to force myself out of the bubble that holds me back from exploring and adventuring sans roommates. Still working on it.

As I do with most things, I've tried to discover a remedy to the things that ail me, and here's what I've come up with. And, as per usual, they are fairly standard however hard to come up with slash implement. I will get out more...I will try to meet other people...I will follow my heart, responding eagerly to its call to excitement...I will say yes to every opportunity that presents itself (easier when I felt slightly more wealthy)...I will regain my academic vigour, as a month off of internalizing important information is surely long enough...I will maybe once in a while go for a run.

SO, as I often say, wish me luck.

St Laurent

I live near an extremely trendy street here in Montreal. I'd say I can't stand it, but really I revel in it, and as a result, get totally dressed up to do my grocery shopping. And it's nothing like an everything-you-need Thrifties run. No. Today, in my pointed silver flats, coiff, delightfully distressed jeans, black off-the-shoulder shirt and fabulous dangly earrings, my first stop was the bootleg dry goods store right around the corner: bananas, always 49 cents a pound; all bran for $1.99; tofu, cottage cheese, sundried tomatoes. Then, I went to the ancient grocer with the ancient cash register, who always gets peeved when I squeeze his avacados: "Les tous sont bien". His wife died recently though, so we

ARRRRRrrrrrrrrrgggggggggg!

Oh! The anguish that is missing a great plane fare online and facing the prospect of spending 200 more dollars than you thought you were going to. My insides are twisted, I'm speaking too quickly, and I find myself on the verge of lividity. It is expedited by my exhaustion resulting from full days speaking French to mostly less than accomodating customers, wrestling with my computer's wonky algorhythms, working out the details of September 2004 and beyond, and my current battle with homesickness!

So, I cry out for help...can anyone help me find a really cheap plane ticket to Vancouver from Montreal or Toronto during the first two weeks of June?

Love you all.

Decisions Decisions...

Am a bit stressed. I am at a point where I need to make a decision but don't quite have the right information. Something that has to be done now depends on something that doesn't have to be done now, and so I'm stuck. Plus, other people are in the mix, and I don't want to put pressure on them because of my inability to decide. When I speak in such general terms about a specific situation I find that it applies to more than one context present in my life. Figuring things out is hampered by my exhasution, potent deli smell, and laziness regarding dinner. It would all be okay if I could just be face to face with my parents for a moment or two! I miss you and love you both!

Thank heavens I have the house to myself.

September 2004

It is as though I've been here for weeks, months. My french is steadily getting better (Est-ce que vous voulez une sandwich saucisse douce avec de la moutard fort et du choucroute?), we now are the proud owners of a pet fish, and I'm starting to know my way around the city.

I'm starting to think a lot about what I'm going to do next year, whether I'll be at school again, or off on an adventure. How long can I prolong my undergrad degree while maintaining self legitimacy?

Sorry the blogs are so infrequent...life is fairly consistent, however delightful.

The good days keep rolling. I feel like I could just give you a blow by blow account of every day, because each is that worthy, but I also find that blogs like that tend to be rather uninteresting to read. So, i will hold out until I have a slightly profound thought, or more.

C'est la vie et la vie est belle

Life is so good. I live in Montreal, I volunteer at the local community kitchen delivering meals to elderly and handicapped, I live in an amazing apartment with two wonderful friends, I have a job at a Hungarian deli about 5 mintues from my house on St. Laurent, I play on a rugby team (maybe) and have access to a balcony, a fire escape and perhaps a roof patio (still working on that). My friends are wonderful, and their friends are wonderful (especially Adam our Filippeno nanny), and we're having a wonderful time. The atmosphere is relaxed (it takes us hours to get out of the house once we decide to go) and the food is good.

Kate always asks me "what was the best thing about today", and here there are too many to count. Yesterday, we had pain au chocolat with coffees from the nearest Portugese bakery (I picked up the coffees in my pyjamas!), while reading the french newspaper. We walked to the Bus Depot to pick up Jess's bike, which we assembled nearly all by ourselves! At one point a ridiculously goodlooking frenchman stopped to help, but alas, he was virtually hopeless, so we had to take over. We found a coffee maker (working) at a garage sale, and then on the way home ran into Terrance, who Brennan happened to tell that she wanted 100 Years of Solitude and couldn't find it anywhere...he had a copy and gave it to her! Then, we ran into Dave, who helped us eat gherkins and came home with us for slushy rum punches. Bren and Jess made individual pesto pizzas with avocado, Jess (Jess's boyfriend...hahaha) arrived. We kept going with the slushy drinks, and Adam arrived with a pineapple. At that point we had 6 of us on our balcony, and those of us that hadn't had too many rum punches feared for our lives. Brennan bailed because of an overreaction to weird Victoria connections (the movie store guy I was obsessed with is also her kickboxing instructor who she's obsessed with!). We drove to Jonah and Zev's, in the Ghetto, in a BMW convertable (refreshments-scotch mints provided), where we smoked a bowl. We relocated to Adam's other apartment, smoked a joint, and watched Super Troopers. We left, with our pants stuffed with toilet paper (we'd run out at home). Like I say, Life is good.

Much Love,
Kate

I heart Montreal.

Jentastic

While there are many fabulous people in my life, the one that needs recognition at this time is Jennifer "Fantastic" Fawcette. Oh! I wish that Village Photo hadn't gone all capitalist on our asses, or I would include a photo here. Alas, I will have to try and write a thousand words in place. The theme of the relationship between Jen and I during the second half of this year has been cohabitation. We bonded over music, western heartbreakers, red shoes, too much bloddy enthusiasm, and delight in short haircuts during September, October, November and December, and ultimately decided that we were destined to be roommates. Since then Jen has done all the stressing and effort exertion in order to make a compromise of my dreams and her dreams (which tend to be similar), and now Ella and Marit's dreams as well, a reality. And, mutha fucka, (mootah?)...she did it.

Next year, thanks to my darling darling fabulous fabulous Jennanigans, I will be living in a four bedroom house, next door to the subway station, in a fabulous little community, close enough to both school and downtown, paying only $420 a month. This palace of ours has inside laundry! big rooms! stained glass! hardwood floors! a kitchen big enough for a couch! a porch! a laundry line! My list could go on and on.

And in the face of such a triumph, Jen shows up at my house with a thank you card for me??? Yes, I love you, hon, but really that card should be for you.

So, without further ado, I'd like to say my mega thank you to this wonderful woman that happened into my life, and kicked things up a notch, without causing any unwanted havoc (is it possible to take me by storm without causing a storm?). I LOVE YOU JEN!

(slash, I'll write 307 words about her. Less than a third of a picture, but with Jen, the average person wouldn't be able to handle anymore)

Spare some change for a wicker ottoman from Ikea?

Lama and Taxes

I feel triumphant, grown up and ready for a summer of increased independence. Last night, I did my taxes. I don't know anyone else that did their own taxes, apart from my darling parents, and that makes me delightedly self satisfied. Not that I'm surprised, but I don't have to pay them anything either!!! I think the satisfaction comes from the fact that everyone dreads doing their taxes, spends the day on it, and is toast at the end of it. Helps that I don't have any dependents, a spouse, or benefits. It's just nice to know that I can do it, and that I'll be able to do it myself for the rest of my life now.

I went to see the Dalai Lama the other day, and it was wonderful to see him. It was interesting, not because what he was saying was particularily profound or new, but because it was him that was saying it. In addition, the dynamic of the crowd at the event (in the skydome) was drastically different than the one that was present at the Blue Jays home opener that I went to a couple of weeks ago. Of course, it was an extremely positive speech, and it left me feeling calm, rejuvinated and in a more adequate position to handle life, and development.

It's interesting that calm and rejuvination, and ability to handle life, are quite consistently the things I seek to get out of experiences. Of course there's also adventure, good stories to tell, and happiness.

Right Words at the Right Time

Excitement is building as the final approach to Montreal commences. Who would ever believe that Jess, Brennan and I would live together, half way across the country, in close proximity to our beloved Shona over in Ottawa? MUTHA! And the best is that the whole thing is so freaking practical. I started packing today, and am worried that in the midst of the summer, I'll desperatly want something of mine that is in Scarborough in storage. My parka, for instance, maybe a text book, in case a point needs to be proven, perhaps my bible, or book of inspirational Oscar Wilde quotes.

"Nothing is so dangerous as being too modern. One is apt to grow old fashioned quite suddenly."

I sent a mail today to everyone, letting them know my contact info in Montreal. On purpose I included lots of people that I hadn't talked to in ages, and delightfully, I've got some emails back from people I'd lost touch with. Reconnecting is in the air. When I went away from Victoria, I felt as though I was being so tough, and that I would step out of the plane and leave it behind me. Slightly ridiculous, as there are so many fabulous fabulous people still on the island, that I still love. Thanks all for reminding me, and illustrating the fact that we can still be part of each other's lives, even from a distance (cheese and truth in the same sentence).

famous last words

It is a dark day. Shadows pass through my mind, my heart. Is depression imminent? Politics: Comparative Development and its examination certainly are.

Wk 1 Slide 7

I've had a very varied week, from deep heart to hearts with roommates, to drunken declarations of love to good friends; from blue jays games to res parties; from all night techno nights, to dinner dates; from studying to sex and the city; from crazy days at the deli to dozing in the sun.

International Health Policy tomorrow. What are your biggest health concerns?

Repatriation of Profits

The days are divided between exam study and Sex and the City, season 6. So much love.

My near inability to be home alone (after 8 months of constant human contact) worries me. This weekend will be a test, as I've got the house to myself. Perhaps it's just Scarborough?

Fantasia for Four Hands

A lovely Toronto day. Woke up, brunch at the Red Room (avocado and brie sandwich of course), and then a wander down Spadina and then onto Dundas (going east) as I'd never walked that way before. While chatting to a lovely but absent roommate of mine, I found myself infront of the AGO and on a whim decided to go inside. I'm extra glad I did as it was the last day of a vivid exhibit by Edward Burtynsky that made me smile out loud. I love noticing the themes that run through my life, like Jesus and Development, and this exhibition was no different- it reeked development like a mutha.

It brings to mind my concerns about finding beauty in Poverty, like in Jamaica, and a friend in Victoria's photos of dilapidated dwellings in Laos. Here, though, Ed legitimated beauty in things that are actually destructive. Perhaps it is just a little more difficult to justify see beauty in impoverished people.

I find myself having to convince myself just to breathe in galleries. Stop looking at the people around me, stop hearing what they're saying and just let my eyes glide over the art works, let myself just enjoy it rather than analyzing others analysis of me. Rodney Graham's video installations succeeded in calming me down, I stopped thinking about whether or not I was getting it, and just didn't pay attention to anything. Lovely.

I took the subway home- St. Patrick's station with it's green hue was nearly as soothing as the gallery itself. Looking out the window on the RT was as vibrant as the paintings and photos in the gallery, and I was happy for that outlook.

Now I'll sit down and watch some slightly more mainstream video- My Best Friend's Wedding- and find myself something to eat. It's too bad this blog isn't circular, as that was one of the best things about Graham's work. Perpetuation.

Limbo IV

Why is it that one always tends to look forward at the same time one looks backwards? I am waiting anxiously to get on the greyhound bus destined for Montreal. I look forward to temporarily having a new life- me being the only constant. How many times can I just pick up an leave before it starts negatively affecting me? The only thing that stands in the way of summer is exams. I know that I'm supposed to be at the climax of second year, but it feels as though the climax is passed and I'm in limbo before the ascent of another story. Limbo seems to be a frequent blog theme.

In the sense of looking backward, I've been talking with some people in Victoria who I haven't phoned since getting here. And Montreal seems to be the reuinion of the ages: Kate, Jess and Brennan in one house, Shona in Ottawa, and Ariel somewhere close, but undisclosed. I can't wait to see them all! I've also invited countless other good souls to come and visit, and wouldn't it be wonderful if they did?

It comes down to my inability to sit still, in a micro and a macro sense. Will I ever stop moving?

Scarborough Sea(n)

I went a bit squirly yesterday from reading too much, and feeling trapped in Scarborough, in F6. The world has been so bleek for the past few days, not in relation to me, but in general. I am extremely happy, but worry for the future of humanity. I felt that I needed an adventure to break the negative intertia, but couldn't come up with anything to do besides read Tom Robbins (but I was too squirly from reading already) or watch tv (which makes me more squirly if I'm feeling squirly already). My inability to come up with an appropriate adventure made me feel even more claustrophobic.

In polar opposition, however, today brought the perfect adventure. Sean dropped by, on bike. (***side note: I love things that weren't novel in Victoria, but here are decidedly novel. Bikes for example). I rode once around a campus block, and loved it. We found another bike, and set off with picnic through the valley to the lake. I'd never been before, and I don't quite know why not. Being from Halifax and Victoria, Sean and I did our best to pretend that the lake was an ocean and the breeze was salty. The sea gulls helped the illusion. We picnic'd beside a bronco on the beach and went home via the Quick Stop mart searching for Cyclones.

I don't know what the best part was, being near water, biking, the search for cyclones, simply the idea of adventure, or Sean's company. Perhaps, in true University student post-modernist logic, it was a combination of all five factors. Thanks Sean for encouraging adventure.

La Vie

I've been living real life lately. School often feels like a hiatus. Time has stopped for a moment, and you have to get through this stage before times begins again. Even high school felt more like real life. But, since I've only got one assignment to do before finals, and everyone else is overwhelmed, I am just living. My real life activities include coffee breaks, knitting, dishes, vaccuming, novel reading, painting and corresponding with people left uncorresponded.

Every once in a while I get a whelm (as opposed to an overwhelm) of remembering Victoria. The most common type is thinking about the restaurants and cafes. I miss Eugenes, Pagliacci's, Paradiso, The Wooden Shoe, and Caffe Fantastico- I know I could find similar places here, but I haven't and it's frustrating. Lately, though, I've started missing people. I miss the connections I had with people that I haven't found here. People that I can talk to about anything, and nothing feels conditional. Here, there is a strange dynamic. None of us feel totally comfortable with our situtations, and therefore everything feels a little unstable, including friendships. I think that's why they say that the friends you make at university are the friends that you'll have forever: if you can get through this time of tumult and insecurity together, you can get through anything.

Joie

I am so happy. No reason, just am. Things make me smile and smile and smile. I like ladies that take a long time to count out exact change, I like forcing people to try new things, I like people who write in pedantic prose, and I like feeling that I have free time. I love the city I live in, and I look forward to showing you around it. Yea you.

Something I've been thinking about lately is things I've got in common with people. My friend Jen here in TDot- we're the same person. We're intense, enthusiastic, drama and dance-yo'-pants off. Then there's Mel, my roommate- and we're the same person. We have the same insecurites, the same passion for passion, the same penchant for the attention of the opposite sex...But then when I think about the number of people I see such intense similarietes with I realize how different they all are. Case in point: comparing Mel and Jen. So different.

Love.

Ma Tante

Just back from a fabulous fabulous weekend away. I met Paulette, Philippe and Christian in Ottawa and we went from there to Mt Tremblant in Quebec for a couple of days of skiing. The chalet was full to the brim with fun frenchies, and now I feel like I've got some family out here! The mountain itself was great (very similar to Mt Washington) and the village was chic beyond belief. We went to Le Shack for an apres ski pitcher, but could have painted the town red if we'd wanted to. Spent the second day with Helene and Bill, and ran into some Torontonians as well (my hookup for future ski trips???). Back in Ottawa on Monday, we spent a pleasant day poking around the Byward Market where I visited my favourite hot sauce store and nearly bought a Persian Carpet!!! Now I'm back safe and sound, infront of my computer once again. Many thanks to those who made it possible- I'll see you at the cottage in the summer!

In other news, I went to Italian Night at the Distrikt the other day, to see Mauro Picotto. With Mel as company, we managed to avoid all the Ginos and have a mostly wicked time. Italian flags for souvenirs, and the memory of some really good music.

[Have a feeling I used a few too many cliches in that one.]

A Short List of Favourites

I am going through a phase of overwhelming joy for certain smallish things. My list keeps getting longer, which is fantastic. Three cheers for perpetual adventure.

1) Nothing Compares to You by Sinead O'Conner
2) Yellow Tail Chardonnay
3) Pointy boots with raggedy ass jeans
4) The Onion
5) Yarmulke

I've also got a list of things I'm looking forward to, other than daily life in general:

1) Tremblant next weekend, plus a little Ottawa action.
2) Montreal for the summer, with the one and only Zim
2.5) Perhaps insert a bout of summer language bursary program here
3) Living in Toronto proper starting September
4) The Netherlands for Christmas 2004
5) Surprise Reading week 2005
6) IDS Coop placement September 2005

That's a long way in the future, but mutha fucka.
Hoof.

The best is that there will be so much unscheduled adventure in between that I don't even know about yet! Perhaps visits to Coburg and Cambridge? Halifax?

I am the luckiest girl in the world. Seriously.

Fantastic Smith

The Marvel of Saturday: I have worked on Saturdays for so long that I am still in awe when I have an entire saturday free. It's the kind of day when you feel like anything is possible, the week's over but the next one is nowhere near starting! It's 1:22 now, and I've written a midterm, worked out, done my laundry, and am ready to enjoy the rest of the day with my fabulous fabulous roommates.

Yes, I did purposely move into a fab fab roomie blog, as it seems to be the theme of the week. But while the others are mourning the end to F6, I say bullshit. We still have to be bridesmaids at each other's weddings! This won't end anytime soon. I heart dancing, cooking and clothing with you girls.

In other news, my fav. ab workout: The Onion (credit to Sean for introducing us).

But, I should go and enjoy the presence of my roomies instead of just writing about them!

A Temporary Pessamist

Here you go Sean.

I am having a bad day. I woke up feeling like I wasn't trying hard enough, getting things done well enough or fast enough, or just plain being good enough. My To Do list has remained the same length for the past week, and I have some dirty dishes in the sink. And worst of all, summer is looming ahead, and I have no idea what it holds for me- I don't even know where I'm going to live! My mum, in her sweet (sometimes difficult) conscientious way sent me a job search website today, which is an excellent start. Tim Hortons is hiring.

After last summer's job drama, I am scared shitless of finding something this summer. I don't have to confidence to go out and do what my friends seem to be doing- camp counsellor (too much responsibility), project coordination at an ngo (too much responsibility). Even the receptionist jobs listed on the HRBC site require "decision making capabilities", a capability I feel I lack.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, all I really want to do is enable someone else's genius. How do I go about doing that?

Waggwhan?

Ah. And so another one of life's weeks has come to an end. I wonder if it is good to have so much adventure crammed into one, rather than have it more evenly dispersed through the other 51 weeks in a year. This was an amazing trip because it was interesting and relaxing at the same time. While it was only a week, I think that it's prepped me for future travels more than Europe has. I think it'll prove especially useful for my IDS placement year because of what it has shown me about how I interact with people from different cultures in their setting, and also about spending time in a developing country in general. I wondered what topics were taboo, and how much people wanted to talk to an outsider, especially one disguised as an American tourist. But, I found that when I was interested, they were happy to tell me their perspective of Jamaica- and in the end I have a variety of different stories. They tell us to be aware of variability within a culture, but it had never really been concrete until this trip. I'm rambling a bit about just a couple of thoughts this trip prompted, and I'm sure more will come as I further disect my fabulous Jamaican holiday. It's not a cohesive Kate-esque blog, with events detailed consecutively, but I suppose the "no problems" attitude has taken me over.

One love.

Notes from a Small Island

Oh! The contradiction of life and unlife that is Jamaica. I've said it before and I'll say it again (with slight variation), that I find it very strange to be in a place where two worlds collide like they do here. We learn about inequality, but in rarely Canada do you see it through such stark contrast. KFC, McDonalds one block, corrugated iron towns the next. It is strange that the best maintained infrastructure here are the advertising billboards. Driving over a potholey road, inundated by donunt and mango sales people at every intersection, you don't expect to look up and see something shiny and toothy.

After learning a bit about Jamaica before I left Toronto, it is interesting to arrive here and talk to the locals about it- what the problems are, where they stem from and what the answer is. The answer to the first two questions is a long enough story, that the third is difficult to get to. All it prompts is further discussion of the first two questions. In addition, the issues brought up in these discussions differ greatly from those in the books and movies I've taken in

The sense of ickyness is almost paralyzing, not that I would be able to do anything anyway in my week here. Will I even have a nice conclusive statement at the end of it? At the same time, I'm more relaxed than I have been since leaving BC, adventure of any kind nearly guarantees it.

Thanks to the Hilton boys (perhaps not as sexy as Paris...) and the rest currently contributing to my positive Pina Colada Karma.

Nearly A Rasta

Oh! The Juxtaposition of life and unlife that is Kingston. I'm sitting here full of all you can eat Lobster from the Kingston Hilton's kitchens (the hook up is fabulous fabulous), and I have a free bed here tonight, with someone to pick up my barely used towels in the morning. All this after spending the day in downtown Kingston, and Trench Town where Bob Marley got his start. Again it brings me to this question, what is more important, achievement of happiness or escape from poverty? And how does Kingston fall into all of this? Tomorrow I am going to see how the rich Jamaicans live, looking down on the rest of Kingston from their million dollar homes.

Thanks to my dad, who always makes me ask questions.

Do not disturb.

Kate In Jamaica

Drinking a bottle of Wata, quenching my thirst the way nature intended. Have just arrived in Kingston, driven past the slums and arrived at the Hilton. Am too ridiculously excited to type.

See you soon, browner and more aware.

OMG Jamaica. It's coming up so fast. Wish me luck.

Holla Back

What is really Fabulous Fabulous is how Fabulous Fabulous has taken off. I love it. It's always been my goal to penetrate and integrate. Legacizing, and I'm only 20.

Listening: Be Careful of My Heart, by Tracey Chapman

Reading: Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates, by Tom Robbins (thanks Sean)

Breathing: carefully

Thinking: 1000 thoughts a second, as per the usue. Wouldn't it be nice if they were useful?

Blog Karma Returns

And today, just because of my previously mentioned blog karma, I have had one of my specific questions answered. Today in Environment and Development, Tony Price basically answered for me the research question that I've got to tackle for an upcoming paper in his class. Thank you Tony, but it's a bit sketchy really...I can't just regurgetate everything that he's said.

Oh, and Jamaica tickets arrived by courier today. Two fabulouses in one moment: getting something from a courier and getting tickets for Jamaica!

Yes or No?

I find myself in a slightly paradoxical state, unable to find the answers to my questions. I know that it has been discussed before, but as usual, only when it relates to me do I really start to contemplate it. Even though we live in a knowledge rich, info-at-our-fingertips type of society, it is still a seemingly endless quest to find what information I am looking for. For example, I am trying to plan my imminent reading week trip to Jamaica, and am concerned primarily about two things: transportation and accommodation. So, I look at the internet, I read travel books, I talk to my Jamaican friends Traci and Alex. All I was is for someone to tell me, “this is the best and cheapest place to stay, this is how much it costs, and this is how you reserve.” Instead I get, “you could stay here or here or here”, or even worse, “they said you should stay there? No, you should…”. There is simply too much information to get through, or not a specific enough answer to your specific question.

Even with this perceived deficiency of information, everything you could ever want to know is still out there. My friend Ayal said to me once after I told him I wanted to revolutionize development, that there was no way either of us, no matter how creative and innovative we both are, are going to come up with something new. It is as though the creation of ideas is at a limit, and what is thought of now is simply a progression or adaptation of something that has already been thought. I mean, who the hell is going to invent a new political ideology? Or create a new colour? [watch me eat my words in the future].

At the same time though, epiphany and eureka moments still prevail when you look at knowledge, ideas and information in relation to yourself. Each time an idea is integrated, or you gain further insight, you can feel the satisfaction of making the world a better place, if only because you have that much of a greater understanding. And so, I will continue to ask specific questions, even if it takes me longer than desired to find the answer, and I will continue to feel self satisfaction when I think of something potentially earth shatteringly original, moments before I read it three paragraphs further in the article I’m reading. And I will continue believing that reality is created only in relation to the individual.

21: DLF

It's almost Jess Zimbler's Birthday. Happy birthday, Jess. Dude like fuck. CU on the Flipside. This post could be all inside jokes, because that's a lot of what Jess's about, but instead I think perhaps I will talk about something else.

The thing that amazes me about Jess is that forever friends is really forever friends. She still has the notes I wrote her in High School. She still sends me letters today. And she reads my blogs. When we finished high school, and she went away, she remained more a fundemental part of "the group" than I did, even though I stayed in Vic. I admire her so much for the continuous effort she puts into loving people, even though they're not around her. Why can't I be like that?

And in a heart beat she will offer anything she has if you want it- perhaps an apartment in Montreal for May?

Anyway, this girl defines fabulous fabulous, and inspires me to love people still that I once loved in the past, and still technically love, but sometimes don't remember that I love.

Carpe Gingerale

When you blog it, it will come.

I was telling my friend Sean today (fabulous fabulous) that something good happens to me about ever 20 minutes. Hugh Grant in About A Boy divides the day into thirty minute blocks, and my mum suggests that one should reevaluate one's emotions approximately every 20 seconds, but twenty minutes is my measure. This morning, I was woken up with bacon, eggs and toast in bed, prepared by my fabulous fabulous roommate Kate. And then about twenty minutes later (give or take a couple of hours), I found a flight to Jamaica for $399. I had six twenty minute sections while in International Health Policy, and learned something new and fabulous fabulous (FF) during each block. And then afterwards, I ran into FF Sean who clued me into the fact that if I stuck around for about 20 minutes, I would find myself presented with an array of FF free food, presented to me in celebration of the incoming new principal of our school. It was well worth the 20 minute wait, primarily due to the bries, the tortellini, the sushi and the ghurkins. And then, right before my very eyes, I found a can of gingerale. The essence of serendipity. In the words of my FF roommate Mel, I decided to Carpe Gingerale.

Pray for Rain

My dad always makes fun of conversations about the weather, but the weather here this week is worth blogging about even! It started snowing yesterday, and still hasn't stopped. As the snowing technique changes, my roommates explain the difference between each type of snow. Who knew that there was a difference between frozen rain and hail. They're predicting an extra 15 to 20 centimeters tonight, and there was a dump of about the same yesterday. Looking out of my window at all the little matching houses makes me feel like I'm at a ski resort. Except for the lack of skiing.

It's funny how weather makes me think of god. Climate is probably the most significant thing that causes me to be skeptical of his existance. Seriously, if there is a god, how the hell can he justify this climactic variation. Who invents snow? Ridiculous. I guess you could say who invents famine- and I would say humans do, but we sure didn't invent snow.

Sitting in my cosy house, with plenty of food and a tv and computer for entertainment, no more than one km from school, I am baffled at how people survived in this weather with any less. Honestly. I just don't get it. I'm living in a city that pays for anti frostbite advertising on the radio, yet there is a city here, with people in it, and they survive.

I didn't realize when they said "snow" that it would have such an effect on my daily life. Thank heavens for pilates videos or I would emerge in May (cause that's when they say it'll be over) a hundred pounds heavier, and probably incapable of walking a distance longer than the living room to my bed room. And I wear touques and scarves and mits. In Vic it's fairly uncool to even wear a jacket, and here all my friends are running around in leg warmers and long johns. I said to Mel the other day that I'd always heard about this notion of "putting away your summer clothes", but never got it. Here I actually can't wear skirts. That's what the frostbite warnings tell me- skin exposed for 15mins plus results in amputation.

And the worst of it is that I'm craving gingerale.

Chilean deli fights

Four day weekends are fanstastic because you can fill them up to the brim with fantastic things to do and they have more space than you ever possibly imagine...wait, they obviously don't, according to the decided lack of homework I accomplished this weekend. But I'm happy, and not too far behind, so that's what counts right?

This weekend had lots of varied elements of things that I really like: cute boys, Kensington Market, deli time, chilean wine and girl talk, bagels and lox, subways, pilates, L6, fake fur hats, bollywood, more subway, homemade Turkish food, "family" time, and laundry out the ying yang. Honerable mention goes to pillowfights, romantic comedy, a World Bank report on HIV/Aids in Africa and clean sheets.

Thank you so so so much to Saniye and the Yilmaz's for the tumble dryer and plethora of new tastes. Thank you thank you thank you!

Oh, and who the f**k is Bob?

Shut up

Bla bla bla bla blaaa blaaa bla bla bla bla bla lbal bla bla lbal bla bla bla bla
bla bla. Bla bla alb alb alb. Bla bla. Bla! Bla bla lba bla bla bla bla bla bla bla
bla bla bla bla bla bla????

Things I feel like writing but don't want anyone to hear.

GP

And finally, the last of us has been converted. Kathryn. Hallelujah for more arbitrary opinions and incomplete thoughts, documented via insufficient use of the English language. Perhaps we can only express ourselves if we spend the big bucks?

As I watched the latest mainstream yay left propaganda (The Corporation) tonight, I couldn't help but wonder, how much did they spend on this film to get this message across? It was so glossy, undoubtedly calling on the manipulative media tactics that they spent considerable screen time trying to discredit. Does it really take that much money to say what you mean? People take you seriously if you put enough material together in witty enough ways, and pay enough copyright fees to have certain identifiable images such as Tiananmen Square in your production. They take you seriously when you shed your dreads and look classy in black, but write you off if you wear shredded mittens and hooded sweatshirts. Since when does a voice have to have an image? Am I any better in my dislike for alternative media and badly colour coordinated websites? It has to be beautiful for me to pay attention.

I constantly justify my habits of consumption through consideration of their contribution to my overall happiness, and my desire for ownership of beauty. I buy Dove (by unilever) because it looks nice. Such chic packaging. I smoked cigarettes (and don't laugh) in part because of their pristine and streamlined appearance. Telling myself it's okay to do things because they make me happy falls through every once in a while. And so, I haven't smoked a cigarette in a week (though their unique beauty calls to me every half hour!).

My acceptance of the status quo falters, more often lately and my perceptions of life occasionally expand beyond how it relates to me. In my indecision towards what is right and what is wrong, I can't say that it's okay to sit on the fence. I want to find a battle and fight it, which is why I joined the IDS program in the first place. But how do I know what battle to fight? What if I fight the wrong battle and win? What if I fight the right battle and lose?

This theme comes up over and over again, preventing me from taking actions. I see people around me so confident in their beliefs that they can chain themselves to an oil pump, risking the loss of their head!!! I am baffled by their confidences. Perhaps I should just read one side of the literature and confince myself of something sufficiently to try to do something about it. Or I could wait as I am for the idea that will revolutionize the world.

I am anxious to take action, and anxious that if I do, it won't be good enough. But seriously, what am I waiting for?

I just had a nervous stuttery converstation. When was the last time that happened? I feel like I'm twelve. But, then again, it's kinda nice to be naturally sketchy. You realize your emotions and nerves are functioning.

P. Lates

I go through phases of exercising my ass off, and then gaining it back. I always love the point where if I don't exercise that day, I feel it, and the endorphins really kick in when I do. Granted, my current "fitness regime" includes nothing but far too much pilates, but that's okay. Just 20 more sessions to a J.Lo bod.

Yay for more roomie bondage...I mean bonding material.

Filibusters and Quagmires

Home sick from work, and before I retreat into the terry cloth goodness that is my bed, let me jot something down about my perpetual selfcentredness. Please...if I'm being too egotistical any time (because there has been plenty of things stroking my ego lately), just tell me to snap out of it.

BLOG's are fantastically universal, unless one is reading something about something so unfortunatly specific that you need to have spent your life researching the topic in order to understand the entries of the obsessed. But, in general, one can always relate to them. It even goes farther than that- one can always read into a blog post and start thinking that the blogger is writing about them. It happens to me all the time. Someone will start talking about someone causing drama (unspecifically) at a party that I was at, and then I think it's me. Or, I can write a blog about postponing converstations and a fellow blogger can write a reply post, without seeking clarification that the post was relevant to our relationship. But, at the same time, sometimes you just know. You're just absolutely sure that it's about you, and then you can smile that you're worth being electronically documented, even if there are no names mentioned.

Shit magnet

There's something about having the interest of guys that increases your chances with other guys. And so I am slightly overwhelmed. Sure, I'm a flirt and a half, but it's never been quite this successful before. Perhaps it's the cold weather? All the romantic comedies? The coiff?

Anyway, I find myself in an entertaining situation, that I worry will come crashing down around me (or maybe lead to true love?). I just hope for continued friendship. Wish me luck.

Random ramblings

I hate it when people come over and I'm sitting infront of the tv.

I love it when I go out and say hi to over 100 people. Or maybe it sometimes just seems that way.

I love how I can get four very very different presents for my birthday, from four very different people, who all got together and made me the best birthday ever. Cheers to my new bible, the bottle of rum, the blackeyed peas cd, and my new handcuffs, and hurray for decorations when I woke up in the morning, pancakes for breakfast, and a birthday cake.

Yay for telephone firsts, like when I got my first voice mail message, and my first call waiting.

Hallelujah for boys, and a couple more cheers for men, and some specific thanks to my fab fab roommates, and Jen who held my head.

I love how I don't have math tomorrow at 8am

Pilates is fun. We're going through a phase. Line up to see my developing abs.

And peace.

Bday

Fossil tomorrow. Go.

Ruff.

For the first time in years, I find myself falling hard for a material posession.

Meet Olivia:
Love at First Sight

After paying $55 a month for a less than exciting land line I am never home to answer, I went out in search of an alternative. And then I found her. The nokia 5100: built in thermometer, calorie counter, and sound decibel reader, just to name a few of the delightful-though-useless features my phone is attributed with. But, at $48 per month, this darling of a mobile will stay with me for a while (plus, it's heavy duty and will be hard to break). I'm a roamer, and it can roam with me. I'm a partier and it can party with me. I am a student, and it can study with me. I am a deli girl, and I'll turn it off when I'm at the deli.

The only thing better than simple possession of this fabulous piece of plastic is when I get phone calls on it (even better when they are recieved during evenings- 7pm to 8am- and weekends), so I would be thrilled to hear my desperatly annoying ring tone.) Just punch these numbers into your less than superior telephone: 416-875-7573.

Olivia is going to be one spoiled brat of a phone.

Sold me Down the River. Good Luck in your New Bed.

My second arrival in Toronto was better than the first. I had roommates and Burkholders to welcome me, and although I had a ridiculously large suitcase again, there was someone to pick me up at the airport. Since then, things are clicking more than they did last semester. My schedule is nearly perfect. I have class (usually in the morning except for Thursday economics 7-10pm) Tuesday to Thursday, work at the deli Friday from 9-8, party Friday Saturday night, and then do "weekend stuff" like errands, laundry and homework, on Sunday and Monday. And then it starts all over again. Once again, such a good schedule. It is saturday afternoon right now, and it feels as though I should be going back to school tomorrow, but in actual fact I still have two days and two nights of weekend!

I was at a party last night and started to notice just how much school talk was going on. It's amazing that most of us don't have anything to talk about besides school: courses, profs and marks. And when we're done here, we'll have a career: bosses, deadlines, promotions and coworkers. You'd think that there's more to life than the incredible focus we have on school and work, but I seriously can't think of anything that is as significant in my life. Maybe Jesus?

And with that lead in: school is good right now. I've got my courses nearly figured out, math is scary but in a exciting "i watch horror movies" kind of way, and I"m into the study. I'm determined to do better this semester than last year (perhaps back up to the standards I set during my first year at UVic?), and it's looking good so far. The formula: attend all lectures, do all readings, work my ass off in Math.

So, today you find me in much more positive Toronto mood. I'm glad to be back (though I miss you all back in Vic).

Demand for Feedback: things to talk about that don't involve school or work (but must be relatively generally applicable, and warrent at least 4 minutes of solid conversation).

Goodnight Victoria

Leaving tomorrow...oh thank heavens. Thanks to everyone who was entertaining, parents included.

See you on the streets of Toronto tomorrow night!

I don't want to talk about it.

With the impending arrival of my 20th birthday, I keep looking around for something that indicates my adulthood. A feeling, a new habit, something that reminds me of my mother. And while this realization has been coming on for a while now, the adulthood indicator I've finally put my finger on is my inability to talk about anything that means something to me. When I was young, I used to say, "I don't want to talk about it", but it would always end up coming out in the end. But now, putting off conversations seems to happen all the time- "we'll talk about it when I get back from Europe", "we'll talk about it when i get back to Victoria", or "we'll talk about it when Christmas is over". But it's never been talked about. I can't talk about it. I couldn't, and now I am too bloddy angry to talk about it. And so, I resort to writing a slightly less than specific blog about it in the hopes that it will ease my troubled heart. But honestly, I really don't know what to say. We'll talk about it later. And with that statement, I feel like an adult. All that awaits me is midlife crisis.

(Please talk to me and force it out.)