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.)

Tliug

The up and downness of this trip is overwhelming. Luckily I just realized that I was on vacation and so I didn't have to try to be productive or feel guilty for sleeping in and spending all day with friends. Guilt is one of my least favourite emotions, but for some reason school instills it in me. The only time I don't feel guilt is when I'm not studying. And so, it the last week of my trip to Victoria (seven days and counting) I am trying to live it (perhaps the best moment was when I ran into an ex looking so so so fine!). And holy shit it's working!

Happy New Year to all.

Oh, and I saw Love Actually this evening and it was wonderful and fabulous.

We should go for coffee sometime!

Some say I analyze too much. The current theme of my contemplation can be simplified in one word: friends.

I am good at friendships, but less good at having a social life. Let me try to explain. I notice people around me that have groups of friends that are all interlinked and cohesive, at least from an outsider view. But that is what I tend to remain- an outsider. It has been many years since I considered myself part of a group. This summer, the sketchy bastards provided me with a fleeting sense of friendship cohesion, and I've gotten to know a group in Toronto, yet I still find myself with a mismatched ecclectic group of friends that each have their own groups. They find time for me outside of these groups, but eventually go back to them.

To me, it seems these groups provide constant entertainment that is not so readily available to someone with a serious of individual friendships. The group is always doing something in some form or combination, and since you are part of the group, you can always tag along. Instead, I find myself searching out something to do, having to plan ahead for some time with people that are busy with their other groups, and attending far too many one on one coffee dates than suits my liking.

So now is the time for analysis: why? Is it me, or is it them? Is it me concsiously or subconcsiously? I think that it's my constant desire for adventure and change, combined with my tendancy toward lonerdom. So often I would just rather do my own thing, and find myself eventually out of the loop. It's a cycle I find myself in constantly- I don't have enough of a social life, so I put myself out there...but then I've got too much of a social life, so I become introverted and begin saying no to invitations. And then it starts all over again. I'd solved the problem in Holland by saying Yes to every opportunity and invitation, but find it more difficult here as I've got the responsibilities of work and school to combine it with. And then there are those days when you've got too many invitations to deal with!

A lot of it has to do with self confidence- I don't feel good enough about myself to force my way into groups, or even into individuals lives that I like. And it perpetuates itself because I look down on myself when I lack sociality...Gah! If I decided to oversimplify right now, perhaps I'd just say that I've got to get over my fear of people and the rejection I strangely believe encompasses them.

Back in Victoria: After A Few Days

I was right about the limbo, but hadn't counted on the mental distortions that would be caused by so much familiarity. Victoria is familiar, but so is Toronto, and so it keeps getting confused in my head. Walking in Thrifties, or to work this morning, I keep expecting to run into people (normal...you can't go anywhere in Vic without seeing people you know), but the people I'm expecting to run into are Kate and Phil and Saniye and Mel and Jen...and they don't live here.

If asked to evaluate this return home so far, I would give it a very positive review. It has helped me to recognize once again why I picked up and left. But also I've got some satisfaction recognizing how Victoria is a really big part of me, no matter how I want to deny it. THe question is just how do I organize myself to include good things of both worlds in my life?

On another note...

I've sort of left christmas behind this year. I put lots of effort in with my roomies, but my other loved ones, and liked ones have missed out on the traditional Kate Christmas Effort. I plan to be back in action next year, especially as I've lost touch with people this year due to changes in habitation habits. Basically, in short, I wanna do christmas better next year, beacause I love all of you and you don't know it!

Love Love Love
Kate

Back in Vic- 250-383-7660.

Tarawna (aka Toronto)

Things are coming to an end. Exams are finished, this semester is finished, and roomie christmas is finished. I've just cleaned and packed and am ready to head home (almost...another day of work tomorrow). As I sit here and write my last blog before I turn my computer off for the year, I feel like barfing. I know that's perhaps not as eloquent as I could have put it, but I can't say that I'm excited, or that I'm nervous. I mentioned briefly a couple of posts ago about how I fear the feeling of limbo that Victoria will provide me with. I've lived here in Scarberia for almost four months now, and it doesn't feel like home. Yet, it feels like I've been here all my life, and I'm not sure quite why I'm going somewhere else I occasionally call home. In short, here's not home, and there's not home, so where the fuck is home?

I've come to realize over the past few months how important something like home is. I felt that I would step off the plane here, and be happy with constant transience. But, it's not like Europe, and there isn't something constantly entertaining for me to do or see or hear. Instead it's a little bit boring, kinda like home. And so, while it isn't time for New Year's Resolutions, I will say that I've thought about what the next year holds: making Toronto a home I like, rather than a home that's not a home. The recipe is forming in my head as we speak.

Happy roomie christmas- I'll miss you girls! And I'll see you Victorians Soon!

The Most Exciting Day of My Life Part VI

Today I crossed something else off my list, and had a fabulous time doing it. Last night I prayed for snow, because I figured it was about time. When Phil picked me up at 7:30 this morning, my prayer had been answered, much to his chagrin. We headed to the 401 and passed slowly by people in ditches, and people spinning all over the road. The conditions were pretty bad, but by that time we figured we’d gone far enough that we may as well keep going. Still, I wasn’t prepared for the woman right in font of us innocently losing control and spinning in circles in slow motion as we tried carefully to avoid creating a bigger collision. It was crazy.

We made it to the Falls in one piece though, but about four minutes before arriving in front of the Casino, we decided to continue farther and visit the American side of the falls. And then I nearly lost it because the excitement was so great! After a breakfast (Dennys- true American style), we went out into the near-empty town to see what we came there to see. We reached rapid foreplay (as Phil called it),



and my already excited self got more excited! And then…the falls. Niagara fucking falls. One of the biggest disappointments of my life. But for some reason my picture turned out well!



We watched a touristy movie in an empty theatre (surprised more people don’t go to see Niagara Falls in a snow storm), where the falls looked fabulous and magnificent. What were we missing (found out later we’d just seen the American falls, not the actual big ones…ah well, will go back in the summer)? So, we decided to spend the rest of our adventure inside in true American style: we went to an outlet mall where I Christmas shopped for myself.

Now I’m back home safe and sound, and feel the satisfaction of having had another amazing day to add to my collection. Before signing off, I want to thank Phil for being great, and for driving on such a crazy day, and putting up with my ridiculous enthusiasm through all of it.

Shaky vs. Sketchy

After a shaky week, I am ready for Niagara falls (thanks dad for spelling enlightenment). Everyone warns me of the letdown that awaits me, but I am prepped for a fantastic day. It's just snowed here, and hopefully it will again tonight, ready for a sunny christmassy day tomorrow. This week is going to be a full one- economics exam on Tuesday, party at Phil's in the evening, Christmas shopping on Wednesday, Roomie Christmas on Thursday, working at the Deli on Friday, and then flying to Victoria on Saturday. So much excitement!

I must admit that I'm excited to be coming home, but at the same time wary of the feeling of limbo that it will probably instill in me once again.

Looking forward to Victoria

The maybe-i'll-reach-13 list of things I'm excited about for my christmas vacation:

1) Rocky Mountain Muffins from UVIC.
2) Randomly showing up at Dan Cownden's house, because he always does it to me, and I've missed it.
3) Having to take a ferry.
4) Walking up the stairs at my dad's house to find him reading the globe and mail while simultaneously listening to DNTO on the CBC.
5) The Times Colonist (tee hee hee)
6) Christmas dinner with a family that's not my own.
7) Watching Pride and Prejudice with my mum.
8) Boy watching at thrifties
9) Sitting outside at Paradiso in Bastion Square (though I have a feeling it might be the wrong time of year).
10) Volvos.
11) Perhaps I might run into someone I know?
12) The arrival of one of my favourite things about Toronto, in the City Formerly Known as Home.
13) Being reunited with The Ultimate Soul Collection
14) Grant, Sabrina, Brennan, Miguel, Jess, Jess, Mum, Dad, Lola, Jason, DJ, Nick, Alex, Ryan, Steve, Ariel, Lindsay, Oli, Liam, Andrew, Adam, Kaitlyn
15) The Freaking OCEAN!!!!!!!!!

Made it past 13...maybe it will be fabulous after all!

46664

OMG. Gah! I just bought something online, and it was thrilling, I feel elated! And now I just want to buy more! I should have done all my christmas shopping online. It would have been so much freaking easier, but now I've left it too late. Quelle domage. Next year perhaps? Birthdays?

In keeping with the last entry I made, I have just purchased a christmas gift over the internet. Prior to this I had only ever bought plane tix online- I've never had something delivered to my door. And gosh do I feel modern!

I went to see a guest speaker a couple of weeks ago, and who knows exactly what he was talking about, but one thing he did bring up was christmas presents, suggesting that we all gave our families World Vision children. His point was, we all have everything we need anyway, and just keep giving because we want to show our love, that why don't we do it in a way that will give to the community at large. So, in keeping with that, I bought a tshirt from a worthy charity today, and will give it to a friend of mine for christmas. If it works out, watch out because you're getting a 46664 tshirt for christmas!

Bite the Wax Tadpole

It's time that I gave up my preposterous mission to eliminate christmas and just admit that I really really like it. For a while I've had troubles with being a default Christian and participating in its celebrations. This, combined with generic disgust at the levels of consumption and stress the holidays entail, made me decide to swear off the festivities this year. But swearing them off has enabled me to look at the fabulousness of the whole affair, and build on the parts of it I like. For example, the time off school, the availability of new books, the food and the cheeriness (for lack of a better word). And so, from that has sprung Roomie Christmas (only 9 days to go) and a yet to be determined celebration in Victoria.

An added plus was a visit from my favourite Christmas rooster today- Jen (my future roommate, party partner and accomplice in love of western sketchy bastards) stopped by with a magnetic dress-me-jesus (if you live in the area, it is available for viewing) and a wonderful letter letting me know my good points, according to her. It makes me want to turn to someone else fabulous in my life and let them know how amazing they are. Perhaps I'll put it on the to-do list for tomorrow (and so the cheeriness perpetuates itself).

Merry Christmas!

Just Save It

For all my dissatisfaction with the biases of the IDS program, and my frustration with its lack of applicability, something made me realize the value of this program today. Tonight I argued with the lovely and hospitable Beryl and Alan to the point of tears about the merit in attempting global change. While, to my aggravation, I lost miserably, I did figure out a couple of things. Although IDS hasn’t provided me with a step by step action plan for doing the right thing, they’ve made me think. What else is university for? The year away will be the trade school of development, not my political economy lecture. And really, thank heavens they're not trying to tell me what to think.

Perhaps more significantly, they made me understand (again…I know it, but so often I hope and then loose sight of reality a little) that I will probably not save the world. I will also probably not revolutionize development theory. But probably the best thing that I can do is plan a project and make it work. And if I do manage to innovate, it will most likely be on a small scale instead of finding immediate global applicability, but that’s okay. That’s okay.

With this momentary realization comes a feeling of purpose and calm. For this split second I know why I’m here. But then a new question that has been cycling my thoughts quickly appears, and I am stumped again. According to me, there are two bad things in the world: unhappiness, and poverty (My friends here would say that unrighteousness is key, but that’s a different story all together). Acknowledging that they are not completely independent, but are sufficiently removed from each other to be examined separately, which is more important?

Working in the deli, sitting in class, taking public transit all make me realize how many unhappy people there are out there. Holy Shit. Freaking Ridiculous. Can’t they see the sun is shining? But, on the other hand, 8,000 people die from aids per day in Africa, and more generally, people in the Third World, as well as in Canada, are poor beyond poor. Who needs to be helped? Does happiness eradicate poverty, or vice versa? Could I make more happiness than I could wealth?

I want to know how I can make the greatest amount of positive change in this world. Help.

Drama

Sometime about a year ago I picked up using the term drama. Drama drama drama. There's both good drama and bad drama. Most of it is delightfully entertaining. Drama from actions, drama from emotions, drama from preexisting drama. And the best thing is when you don't quite have enough of it, you can always make more. I frequently get accused of drama, as if it is an accusation. But I think the extent of drama in my life could be attributed to extremely positive things, such as vibrant friends and lots of enthusiasm for life in general.

Then there's drama for all the wrong reasons. Drama from rumor, drama from pain, drama from reactions, drama from preexisting drama. This drama overwhelms me and makes me want freedom from it. It makes me want a home, with security (of the love and money variety), and a chance to just breathe.

Can I have one without the other? Jeez, what a drama.

Catch Up

I am sitting at home, infront of the computer...something which happens fairly frequently. But, unlike most times, there is noone in my communicatory vacinity! As I crave alone time here in a place where I'm usually surrounded, this sudden appearance of lonliness is almost shocking. I feel deaf, because I can't hear anyone. And I don't know exactly what I'm going to do with myself this afternoon. But, I will make the most of it, and start with a list:

1) Catch up on email
2) Read an article or two for anthropology
3) Visit my economics prof at 3
4) Sing my heart out to Beyonce's Crazy In Love
5) Continue with Roomie Christmas preparations.




My roomates and I have officially made December 18th Roomie Christmas. We'll wake up early and do stockings before their 9am exam. While they're test-taking, Saniye and I will prepare a mega breakfast. Once that's finished, Saniye has an exam at 2, so while she's doing that, the rest of us will take in the third Lord of the Rings. We'll meet up at Swiss Chalet (he he he. I'm so Toronto) for christmas dinner before going downtown to watch Handel's Messiah. Sounds like the perfect Christmas to me!

And then, soon afterwards, I will find myself on a plane returning to beloved (wouldn't have guessed, eh?) BC. I find it strange that it takes me the same amount of time to get home as it takes my roommate from Ottawa.

A New Convert

Jess

Pet Peeve

My stuff mixed in with other peoples' stuff.

00FF33

New Blog Component: Thanks to Chuck for making my list available to all.

List

And for teaching me to strum, and for routing me, and for just always being terribly terribly enthusiastic (even if it is about japanese metal music).

yo

Accumulating Toronto Experiences

Before I left Victoria, I had a list of things that I wanted to do in Toronto. I'm a big fan of doing things. Hanging out is great, but when you live in a city like I do (he he he) it seems silly to sit still for too long, even if it is for a Maple Leafs game on tv. And so, upon arriving I set about to cross things of my list:

CN Tower: done
Toronto Symphony: done
Big City music scene: done
401: done

The list goes on...but even better, it keeps getting longer. And the opportunities for fun and culture keep falling asleep in my lap. Today I went to Air Canada Centre for the first time and watched the Raptors lose...from really really good seats. If we waved our hand in the air they broughts us wine and sushi, and Vince Carter would look up from the court to wave back. And the best part was that the tickets were free- our boss gave each of his employees $180 platinum tickets. And so, my story of fabulous Tdot experiences keeps going. Got any ideas?

Times New Roman

Struggling to get through the last hundred pages of The Market System by Charles Lindblom. And, as my mind begins to wander, I think about the month that lies ahead of me. Four assignments due next week. Work. A week “free”. Work. Four finals. Work. Victoria. In between those focal points is, of course, the occasional recreation activity: Raptors game this Sunday. Roger Sanchez. The Res talent show. Niagra Falls. Jacob Two-Two and the Hooded Fang. Bye-Bye Birdie. Holiday parties.

I can’t believe how I’ve ended up here- a month before my first term at U of T is finished- without time to think or breathe or live the life I was looking for out here. I have waves of it occasionally, but mostly this is a gotta-get-through-this time. When will I have time to learn and live? I find it hard to believe that university is a time to put your heart and brain on hold, but at this point it mostly feels like that. Or at the end, will I look back and feel satisfied with what I got out of this whirlwind? Perhaps that is what it is…I know that I love it, I just can’t find time to sit back and soak it in to appreciate it. Each time I’ve completed something, participated in something, felt something, there’s something else to complete, participate in and feel. But at the same time I want to do more.

Ah, the typical paradox. Life’s always simpler when I’ve had a look at it in times new roman.

Deli-madness

Gosh! My weekends are so full- work work work. I love the deli. That I can disappear from regular school (etc) life for two days without feeling unproductive. And then I reemerge with one day again before school starts again. So, I've just finished 21 hours in two days, and am ready for some party! Oh wait, no party this weekend. Chill plans.

Cryptic.

Love Kate

To Act...but on what?

How can I be a social activist if I don't know what to be active about?

This question has been a struggle for a while- one that I hoped would be answered to some degree with participation in an international development program like the one I'm in, but alas, it is still on my mind. If anything, I find myself more confused (perhaps a good thing as things have to get worse before getting better?). In this program, which is fundementally a critique of development history, there is very little action to develop new concepts of development. Perhaps one could say it is an underdeveloped development program? The subject matter leaves me feeling that there is nothing we, or I, can do to alleviate poverty, reduce the gap, create the good society...the discourse overwhelms me.

But for some reason, others in the program seem so confident in their activism. This week, there is a free trade fair, organized primarily by IDSers. Yes, the conditions of the workers are perhaps better. But, the money for the coffee is still exiting the country, put in the hands of western fair traders. And last week, they organized a walk to raise money for a well in Cambodia. I was shocked, as earlier that week, we'd learned about the implicit implications (often negative) of building such a well in such a community. Doesn't this program, if anything, make them stop and think for a second?

Actually, though, I admire their confidence in their actions. As I begin to think more seriously about how I will address development issues, I wish that I was more confident in identifying issues I could potentially tackle. It would be much easier if I believed passionatly one way or the other. However, as some people are wont to say, that's not necessarily so.

Amousia

"Why should creatures have the burden of existence forced on them without their consent?"
CS Lewis, from Surprised by Joy.

Ah. I loved the Narnia series. But had no idea that this man wrote like I think. Just read.

Thank you Boris and Mr.401

Just for a complete change in musical events: I went to the TSO last night. For those of you who aren't quite as hip and bohemian and Torontonian as I am, that's the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. Although we had seats that restricted our view of the orchestra to the strings section, we could still see the dynamic Swedish conductor. I sat there for the hour and a half, trying to understand the language he was talking and getting filled with random pleasureable thoughts. And then, being me I had to write them down, so now I have a program filled with spastic comments and inspired revelations.

The music iteslf was wonderful. During the first half, in his TSO Debut, Boris Berezovsky delivered me to Rachmaninoff ecstacy. In the second, Boris had vanished, but Sibelius fufilled my every need in orchestral music. And the nice thing about this event was I was home at 9:30 at night, rather than in the morning, as some music events encourage.

Another bonus to the TSO experience was the sheer number of chic people crowded into the chic space. Aside from a flirtation of red here and there, the whole colour scheme was decidedly black white. God I love this city.

Afterwards, I drove home on the 401. Perhaps you don't think this is a big deal but it is!!! We live about half an hour outside of Toronto proper, and as Phil'd had a bit to drink, I found myself behind the wheel and entering the 401, surrounded by Leafs Fans who wanted to make it to the Air Canada Centre in time to see the Leafs kick Edmonton's asses. Anyway. The 401. I've been driving a little lately, but nothing compares to the thrill of a twelve lane highway, in a very urban area. The best part is when you're hurtling toward skyscrapers and the CN tower at 135km/h. And yes, I did drive downtown in rush hour traffic. For some reason, I have such a prolonged sense of satisfaction from the whole thing.

Post Party Face

Oh yea. And this is what I looked like when I woke up. HAWT!

Fete

Party. It was halloween night, as I assume it was for many of you, and so I had to party. Earlier in the year, a friend Jenn had introduced me to the fabulous world of jungle music, and last night she did it again.

The first component was the costume. I have very strong opinons about halloween costumes. First, the concept must be witty and original. Secondly it must be well executed and aesthetically pleasing. Jenn and I were all and both. Wrapped in vines and littered with ferns and sparkles, I was a wood nymph straight out of A Midsummer Night's Dream (only sexier. I know that I did it in Vic a couple years ago, but that's the fabulous thing about new cities...you can recycle old ideas). Jenn was fully sexy in her old sheet mummy get up. So much midriff! I wish I could put photos here, but alas we are committed to disposables and have yet to develop the film.

We went to Theory again, the same party that we went to last time at the Kool Haus. Again, it featured UK DJ's, and again we were right up front. I am starting to get my jungle legs, as Jenn calls them. As I mentioned in the last post, since I've gotten I've been exposed to quite a variety of musical stylings. I think that jungle can definitly become part of my scene, especially with the continued quality of djs like Grooverider and Goldie.

All in all a fabulous night...not too many stories to tell as this was a dance-your-pants-off event.

Just on a side note, it's interesting that meeting people at parties has evolved for me from just saying hi and talking about whatever to a comparison of the big names and big parties we've been to. I remember that I used to think people like that, who wanted to talk about the value of the music while we were dancing to it instead of just dancing to it, were pretentious. Now I just tell everyone I meet that I went to see Tiesto.

Even a stopped clock gives the right time twice a day

When looking around for a blog in the depths of my brain, I often try to pick out themes that are present in my life. Something that keeps coming up lately is the general concept of worship. In fact, I'm having a conversation about worship as we speak.

For starters, in the most conventional sense, worship involves God and pews and holywater. I've been surrounded by religion lately as two of my closest friends here in Toronto have huge amounts of faith. Both Christians, they've opened my atheistic eyes to their individual versions of worship by answering my countless questions. Faith has ceased to be about organized religion, as I've often thought it was, and has become the conscientious interpretation these individual's make of their beliefs.

Worship again comes up in the form of entertainment. I've been a trance junkie for what seems like forever, and that faith continues here. It is a common analogy to compare partying to religion, so I won't delve deeper into it, except to say that I've been invited to sample other denomonations in the form of jungle, house and techno by my new party friends here. My weekends are frequently full of musical worship.

The final form in which worship is relevant is how it relates to me personally: I desire attention, but more specifically, I desire worship. I'm aware that this type of statement proves my arrogance and vanity, but perhaps by publicizing it I can reduce the sins involved. I find that frequently my actions are motivated by the desire to inspire awe, shock and therefore worship from others. The way I smile, flirt, speak, and move are all carefully designed as a result of lifelong experiment to increase the likelihood of worship.

In this blog I'm concieving of worship as something to give and recieve, an action. But is it perhaps more of an emotion, something more sensorial we are unable to manipulate? Can I choose the things I worship? Can I make something worship me? Is there such thing as subconcious worship and how does it manifest itself? Can worship be developed and enhanced? How general is my sense of worship? According to Jerry Soloman, "the word 'worship' can become a cliche devoid of significant content if we don't stop to consider its meaning." I think he's right, and as a result, am fascinated by worship.

F6

I've said it before and I'll say it again: yay roommates. We continue to grow closer and more comfortable with each other, and more and more I'm realizing how much they are the most positive influence in my life here. I was always skeptical of the "lifelong friendships with undergrad housemates" but I think the hype might be right for once. We've just finished another session of sitting and chatting, this time on Kate's bed. It's amazing how often we do that...you'd think that by now we'd have run out of things to talk about and laugh about.

Home life's evolved a bit in the past couple of days to involve a revolving door. It seems as if we've had more visitors than ever- 8 or 9 people just popped their head in today at least! It's nice to have constant people to talk to, and at the risk of sounding fickle, it's an egoboost. It's a bit as if I'm living the stereotypical "college life" of a character on Sweet Vally High. Still, I look forward to being able to breathe again as I don't quite feel I can in these close quarters.

Often I want to have a moral, some wit, or at least a general statement to conclude my blog with. As this topic keeps on coming up, it's hard to explain its significance. Just know that because it comes up a lot, it means a lot. I suppose in this case, in a suburb I hate, with an ugly school to my left, it's the people around me who are defining the environment and my habitat and so I'm finding I rely on them more for my entertainment and enjoyment. It's not what I ever expected, but it's got its merits and perhaps it's something to add to my vision of my future.

Blog Sweet Blog

Yay! Converting my roommates to bloggy goodness! Check them out here:

Mel

Saniye

So, now we're just waiting for Kate (the fourth roomie) to jump on the bandwagon. Just do it, Kate!

Looseleaf Constraint

...Have been writing all day, all week, all year, in various forms, yet still cannot seem to get all the things in my head down on paper...

Hot Pink Life

I want to write a quick note about how tumultuous a week this has been so far...and it is only wednesday. The three factors in the tumult are: roommates, exams and other. The way each of them make me feel is so contradictory, but simultaneously so intense, that it's all a bit overwhelming. First off, I've totally and completely bonded with my roommates this week. It is really unbelievable. We started delving into each other's closets- literally, and now we're closer than ever before. Funny how grad dresses and pashminas can bring people together! And I don't know how I would have gotten this far into this week without them.

I've had two midterms so far this week, and have two more to go. It's been difficult because I've had to catch up on a lot of stuff because I got behind last week as I had three large assignments due. The only problem with an interdisciplinary program in which I am taking courses in first, second and third year, is that everything seems to come at once. It doesn't help that I didn't feel that I did very well on the first two- it discourages me for the rest. But, it is two am and I feel confident about tomorrow's economics test and so I'm about to go to bed.

However, one more thing: It seems that along with two very dominant factors in my life (roommates and school), there is a third set of things that are contributing to a huge degree of emotional, physical and ideological variety from one intense twenty seconds to the next. Ranging from work issues, to friends with need for support, to lack of food, to theological questions, there are new things all the time that kick the crazyness of this week up a notch.

As I read this post over, I realize that the issues and feelings of this week are so standard and generic. I could have perhaps just written down "when it rains it pours" and saved myself ten minutes. But, I think the thing that makes weeks like these interesting, the thing that I struggle to get down on paper, are the interactions between each of the factors. Why are the good times versus bad times proportioned the way they are? Why is it that I am cycling so quickly through each of the emotions, ideas and feelings? How can the feelings, so intense for twenty seconds, be so knocked out and discarded for the next twenty seconds? And why do those seemingly knocked out and discarded feelings come back, in slightly different form, so formidably 2013 seconds later? When will I learn the lesson that this week is so obviously trying to teach me?

Thank you so much to everyone who's contributed to the mayhem of this week (Mel, Kate and Saniye for house time; mum for thinking it's okay that I don't call; Phil for new friendship; Jen, Mike and Matt for the prospect of partying; and Grant for still thinking)

AHHHHHHHH!

Fucking ratbastard of a motherfucking telemarketing group. FREAK! Last week I started my career as a sleezy telemarketer. It was worse than I ever imagined. I was selling "last resort" credit cards to people who had no chance in hell of ever being approved for one at a bank. As a "credit restoration company" we sold 2500$ monthly credit for a onetime only fee of $249. Most of these people didn't even have that much money in their bank, even though they desperatly wanted the credit card. Our selling point was trying to get them to borrow it from a family member or thier boss. When I asked my boss how many of our customers succeeded in improving their credit, he said about 10 percent. The rest go into greater debt, thanks mostly for the cash advance feature which lets them take out 500$ cash a day on credit. Five days later, they have no way to pay of the credit and spend the rest of their lives in debt. I worked there for three days, making a total of two sales, and was asked to come back and work for them. Today I quit in part because of my new deli job, and in part because of the morality (lack thereof) at SNS. The part where the fuckingratbastard sentiment comes in is that because I quit, I don't get paid for the days I was there. That's more than a hundred dollars, but more importantly 12 hours of misery and angst that I went through! I want that money! And so, I am pissed off.

Order 1017: A deli-sized portion of adventure

A couple of notes on a good day. It's sort of silly to write this in such a disjointed way as a list (much as I am a fan of them), as all the factors combined significantly to create a good day, but alas, I can come up with no sufficiently easy but better way.

Transit in the Morning
Since arriving in Toronto, I haven't woken up before 8:45am. It aggravates me that I sleep in both because it wastes the day, and because obviously I'm lacking some life interest if I feel better in bed than I do up and about. Today I was out of bed by 6:20, and on the bus by 7, on my way to an unknown section of this gigantic city to recommence my career as a deli girl. I planned to read on the bus, but I ended up just smiling out the window, happy to be on a bus, on a clear cold day, with a bus driver that said thank you and have a nice day over the microphone at every stop.

Reesor's Deli
After an hour bus ride, a ten minute subway trip, and at $10 cab bill, I found myself once more standing behind a meat slicer, totally in charge of it's on and off button and the thickness of the slice. Perhaps I've got deli in my blood, or perhaps my enjoyment of the deli trade has become more profound in the face of telemarketing, but I spent a truly happy day learning the ins and outs of a new delicatessen. On the satisfaction checklist, coworkers, general atmosphere, and assigned tasks all rate an overwhelming GOOD on my scoreboard. Thank god for smoked, spiced, and sliced.

Special Mention
Phil was a sideline-but-significant part of my deli day. He's my new friend (fabulous fabulous fabulous...that I can call someone here a friend and really mean it) from Political Analysis who discovered my love for delis and arranged for my current employment. He also works at the Farmer's Market, but on the "chicken side". We didn't interact much, but it was as if he watched over me the whole day to make sure that I was happy and delicious (get it? deli-licious!!! Oh the deli humour!), as if I was a special guest to his work, not a new employee.

Next Stop
I left my new place o' biz and trekked southbound on Yonge (did you know yonge is the longest street in the world? It goes nearly all the way from Lake Ontario to Thunder Bay in Northern Ontario. Thanks Sonia and Walter at the fruit stand for that tidbit). In the subway once again, I lost myself in the clatter of Friday rush hour for a minute before emerging into the city once again in GreekTown. I have a couple of friends (that word once again!) that live there, in the Danforth...east Toronto. It's my prospective neighborhood due to the nice mix of fancy houses, apartments above stores, huge Greek churches, accessible subway stations, central location, bars, restaurants...and that one place with the really nice earrings. It was there that I had arranged to meet Ina, my Latvian friend who shares a midterm with me tomorrow. Starbucks, studying and spilling before Thai food and diagrammatic discoveries of life. This Ina is good to chat to because she draws things out on a piece of looseleaf; like lists but more dynamic.

Toque and Gloves
Back on the subway for the final time tonight, I had an epiphany about unfair terms of trade. I won't get into it, suffice to say I think it'll come in useful on my exam tomorrow.

In the last cold minutes before I reached my house, I was alone and alive for a few minutes longer, facing the return to my life sucking and oppressive house. I had time to do a twenty second emotional recap of the day: the twenty seconds was, while not a bursting feeling, a noteworthy sensation of happiness, leaving me to conclude that, against all odds (Scarborough odds) I have had a wonderful day.

Listing=Living

In Economics today I sat down and wrote a list. Three in fact. One was how to get from my house to my new deli job that I start on Friday. The next was planned christmas gifts for both Victoria and UTSC people. The third was the study/work/play breakdown of the upcoming weekend. Some of you that know me will realize the significance of making these lists, for others, let me enlighten you: I am a list maker. I feel most comfortable and most enthusiastic when my life is planned via an assortment of lists (a trait "inherited" from my list obsessed dad). The reason why it becomes significant now is that I haven't written a list since I left for Toronto almost a month and a half ago. The fact that I've started listing again means that the centeredness I was missing is coming back. Some would think that making lists would increase my centeredness, but for some reason I can't make serious lists unless I've already got some concrete format to my life.

Kate is listing=Kate is living.

AVB

Saw Armin Van Buuren (please read in a cheesy annoucer's voice) at the Guvernment this weekend. A+. All I need now is Tiesto, and Toronto will be complete. In a very Kate version of Thanksgiving, I counted my blessings to a 4/4 beat. As usual, the adventures were epic. Thank you to Mike and UK Matt for making my night.

It's strange to party in a new town. To some degree it's exactly the same, but at the same time very very different. Probably the most significant is the difference in people. On the Island we wear our sweats, meet tons of new people each time, and rotate between tents, stages and woods. In Holland, it seems as if everyone is there for one reason and one reason only: the music. It controls and sucks everyone in. Here in Toronto, we entered the club with the bar stars and wondered for a while if the atmosphere would change from bar to party or not. But, in the end, just as at every party, everywhere, you dance your heart out and smile with your whole body. You feel the perfect mix of unfulfilled satisfaction.

Up In My Room

This is the view from my window, the one that won't open, the one with curtains with cigarette burns...nice eh? I like that some of them are turning nice colours and the others aren't. Is it like tree puberty, they all go through it in different stages? Funny, they're quite thin, but I think they're still fairly old. What's with that???

Sketchy McSketcherson

I am now employed by Sketchy McSketcherson himself, at Sketchy 's Us, Scarborough, ON.

Today I got my first "real" telemarketing job. No kushy partnership development or b2b, this is straight up sales. I have my three day probationary period starting Tuesday. What am I selling? Multi Flex Health Care deals. Please would you give me your bank and credit card information? Wish me luck.

(I'd be less cryptic about the skechiness, but I'm affraid that I would be shot by the desperatly illicit company who now knows where I live.)

Stereotypes

Taking a moment out of my busy essay writing schedule (AHH! Due at 5! One page left to go!) to jot a quick thought.

To prelude, I'm a massive stereotyper. It isn't cool, and I'm trying to stop, but at least I don't act negatively on my stereotyping. So, anyway, my campus is undergoing a lot of construction right now and everytime I walk past the construction workers I always think "what must they think of us university students?" I know construction workers that could go to university if they wanted to, but for some reason I often think that construction sites at universities make for a very strange combination of people. What do they think of us? Are they jealous or disdaining? What do we think of them? And after those thoughts I've passed the site and am on my way home, thinking about something completely different.

Habitat

In a desperate search for an interesting and exciting post, I have failed, and sentence myself to room redecoration. But, I've done that once this evening already, so instead a recap of some of the hilights of my week. Perhaps the premier hilight is the week's interaction with my roommates. I've gotten to the point where I'm nearly completely comfortable around them now. That doesn't mean nakedness and bodily functions, but psycho creativity and wild laughter. I estimate that we've laughed-hard- together with each other at least once a day. I couldn't really believe it at first. We're all so different. Then I started to understand that our difference is the reason we make each other laugh. The way each of us acts is so foreign to the others. Nearly every time Kate and I walk by each other we burst into laughter! We bond over Friends, Miss Congeniality, the trash, and our eating habits. I get made fun of for things I've never thought were strange before, and I think the same goes for the others. I never imagined that four people so different could get along in the same habitat better as a result of our differences. Yay!

(On second thought, the other hilights pale in comparison)

The (lack of) Calm before the Epiphany

I sat in The Anthropology of Development today and thought about intelligence. What we were talking about is not relevant except for the fact that it made me think. It wasn’t controlled useful thought, that can be applied to an assignment or multiple choice questions, but the out-of-control “realization is about to strike” type of thought process. I can’t really explain what goes on in my head. It’s as though my brain is separate from my neurological impulses, and I am having spasms of awareness where wisps of ideas are trying to sort themselves out and integrate themselves. I am so powerless over it that the only thing I can do to help my brain out is to feed it more relevant information in the hopes that it was the appropriate information to complete the puzzle. When this kind of thought happens to me it is so different from the times when I force myself to think. In the latter scenario I already have a frame work for the answer, some parameters that I know it will fit. The first thought has no parameters, and when the thought is completed, it is something entirely new (for me if not for the world).

Does anyone else know what I’m talking about? Has anyone figured out how to harness these spastic thoughts to guarantee that they don’t get lost? Thinking this way makes me feel good, especially because this type of brain process is what I want to get out of university. Hopefully it might result in some useful innovation- an answer.

The Roommates

I promised that once I'd arrived in Toronto, that I'd let you know what it was like and what a fabulous time I was having. Well, it's about time that you got introduced to the girls that I inhabit unit F6 with.



From Left to Right: Kate, Saniye, and Mel.

I'd give them each a bio, but then you'd all know their deepest darkest secrets and dirtiest habits. Too much respect. (Although if the secrets were dirrty enough, I'd have to share).

Kate in the City

Today I showed someone around the city. It is mine now, and I'm whooping it up. Though some of you might not approve of my use of "whooping it up", I assure you that was what I was doing. Yesterday the roommate and I went to the free Nickleback concert at Yonge-Dundas, infront of the Eatons Centre, before heading to the harbour front for partying at the Docks. Partying in Toronto, as far as my experience goes, is very strange as I am a definite minorty as a caucasian. If you like hip hop it's pretty good. And if you don't, you just have to pretend that the melodic beat is similar to one you would hear at an island party on good old VI. I had better get used to it if I'm going to be here for the next few years, so I shook my ass with the best of them (Thank you Sean Paul for all the motivation I needed).

This morning I went on the subway to the ROM (Royal Ontario Museum) to check out the Art Deco exhibit that I'd seen this summer in London. It was just as fabulous as I remembered, and I am lucky enough to live in a city that events like these happen in! On the way back to the subway, we walked through the Annex, which is a trendy cook street village meets fantan alley type of place where I bought an Art Deco poster for my room (like I'd ever pay gift shop price for it!)

These adventures were engineered purposely as part of my plan to aclimatize to my new home. Luckily, things never turn out exactly how you plan them, so I got more out of the weekend than I thought possible.

The List

[please note: this list is not in order of preference or importance]

1) See a meteorite crater
2) See a volcanoe (no. you don't pronounce that vol- canoe.)
3) See Niagra falls
4) Learn Japanese and Spanish, Romanian and Estonian
5) Visit the world's biomes
6) Achieve satisfaction
7) 11 Steden Tocht
8) Write and publish book
9) Be reunited with Grant
10) Die having been useful
11) Get a tattoo (completed)
12) Kiss a dutch dj
13) Kill a kangaroo
14) Never hold a gun
15) Perform a song (completed)
16) Watch Citizen Kane (completed)
17) Create a sustainable global society in every sense of the word
18) Travel to all the continents, all the countries, all the biomes of the world
19) Find life on Mars
20) Visit New York, touring all the places I've read about in books (and seen in Sex and the City)

Factor A

The first blog post from my new home. I thought that the computer lab had a negative affect on my creativity, but as I sit here on my room mate's floor as a result of my too-short network cable, I realise that I'm not any more creative now that I'm in my own home.

This has occured frequently since my arrival in my new home: something is lacking, and so I think all I need is to change factor a, and satisfaction will be achieved. Unfortunantely, so many times, my careful planning, waiting and manipulation of factor a doesn't change the status quo. So, it is in this way that I am learning about life love and new locations.

Tourist

Action Plan: Identification and Implementation

I'm not very good at accepting my inperfections. I know that's such a generic statement, but it stops being so generic when you find that it applies to yourself. For a couple of weeks I've been struggling with being in a new place, new life. I thought that I would arrive here, and it would be similar to stepping off the plane in Europe. You're innundated with things to see and do, and your day is filled with interesting adventures to keep you busy (see Grant's blog for details). I thought that being in a new place doing my own thing would be like that, but for some reason it's not.

And so, as a result, I have to recognize that my pride and stubbornness aren't serving me quite right, and life isn't quite perfect at this moment. Life has been so perfect for so long lately...even the bad parts are part of the good parts. Here the bad parts are actually bad parts. I'll even admit I might have made a mistake or two during the past two weeks.

Now the only thing I'm concerned with is dealing with those imperfections and mistakes, and trying to make life the way I want it (rather than expecting just to show up and have it be that way). Wish me luck!

Urban Personals

Lost: Love
Found: Desire, on a telephone pole in the Tdot.

Can you love me?

Sniffle

It started with a restless night: the heat of Toronto is barable during the day, but catches up to you when the sun goes down. You twist and turn, trying to escape the sweat that is creeping from your lower back to behind your knees and the nape of your neck. Soon it starts feeling like the heat is coming out from your core, rather than from the warmth captured by the walls of your second floor dorm during the day.

A couple of nights ago, the symptoms of oppressive weather evolved into something that really did come from within. The sweat on my forehead turned into a snotty nose. The moist neck turned into a sore throat. In the heat, the cold was upon me.

AAAAAAhhhhhhhhhh....CHOOOO!

First Week: done

If you had talked to me last week, I would have been 19, a resident of Victoria, a UVic student, not single, living with my parents, the youngest of my friends, etc etc.

I'm still 19, but for the rest everything has changed. Many of the people I have been spending time with have just come out of high school, and since I've been out for two years, have travelled and have completed a whole year!!! of university, i feel like the old one. And living in Scarborough is a change, no parents (though I wouldn't call res "independent living), and UTSC.

Basically it's as though my life is a legal form, and the questions and topic is the same, but filling in the blanks is so different. Was I looking for a new form all together? Or is it a bad idea to think of it as a form, because that lets me escape the responsibility of designing and choosing the questions?

I crave a question I don't have the answer to. More likely, the question is there, but I haven't discovered it yet, which is the difficult part. When I have a question to answer, I feel like I have a direction. My craving for process and lineality is satisfied. Finding the question is less of an organized process. Is growing up learning how to figure out the question more efficiently?

Someone give me a good question! (a specific one please). I'll let you know if it's a good one, and the answer.

No Kidding

I seem to have aggressively adopted the phrase "no kidding" (notice the appropriate use of quotations!). I use it nearly every third or fourth sentence. Naturally I do use it every time someone says something to me. People keep asking if it's a west coast thing, but I think I just started using it in the past couple of days. I'm just mentioning it so that when reading my blog, if you want to make it more life like, you can insert "no kidding" at various points.

It's about Freaking Time!

Time for an update much?

This has been a week of trying desperatly to get things done, but when one has a mile long to do list, one never feels like one is being successful. Another factor that slows the process is the lack of computer, phone, or geographical knowlege of one's location. Basically I'm fucked. I've still got oodles of things to do, and now school has started and I've got lots more to do, most of it involving looseleaf paper and being in the right place at the right time on the right day. So, tomorrow I'm going to try out for flag football, just to make things easier.

Flag football. So excited. I've decided to fully embrace my froshdom (even though technically I'm in second year), and get massively involved. My roommates are fresh out of high school, and recently retired from student's council, and they're reminding me a bit of the things I used to like to do, like petty volunteering, event coordination, and team sports. So, flag football it is, and then perhaps some students for literacy volunteering after. I don't think I'll go so far as be the "Fir Block Rep" on res council, but you never know.

Thanks for your patience with my lack of patience for computer labs!

Brief notes from Toronto

An unwanted lag between posts has occurred. I've arrived, but don't have a phone, a computer, or internet access. I've just plunked myself down infront of a comp in the lab here after waiting two days to have my account verified to find a full inbox and an inactive blog.

TDot is fab. The people, the city, the things to do. However, I'm in scarborough, at a university of 8,400 people consisting of one building. You need a car to get anywhere but Toronto.

Much as a hate to leave at negative point in my post, I must as my roommates (Kate and Mel, both in the same program as me, both with dutch fathers. All three of us asked to be with people from a different culture and a different program. WHat the fuck?) and I are heading to the city.

I love you all so much, and notice something to tell each of you a hundred times a day.

Count down to Jet Plane

T-Minus 6hours, 14minutes.

See you in the Tdot.