Visions of Lollyblogs Danced in Their Heads

Ahoy again. I am enjoying a pretty laidback post-Christmas week. Today, as you may have noticed, is New Year's Eve. I have decided to celebrate by coming down with a crashing cold/fever/aches'n'pains. However, I have just slept for a few hours and feel much better than this morning, so I suspect I will be able to stay awake until midnight at Katie F's party. Dad is the prime suspect as the source of infection (what a good post-Christmas present), as he was quite sick himself before I came home, and in a similar way.

So, what have I been up to since the 25th? Weeell, it has been razzer quiet because Boopsie took herself away to fencing camp on Tuesday, returning Thursday with a very delightful Team Alberta jacket (!!!) and many happy stories of pot-smoking housekeeping ladies, hall parties, and epeeists' bruises. Wednesday had a lovely day with Becca. Laura was going to come, but instead had to brave the lion's den of meeting her boyfriend's extended family and receiving a scarf of questionable sartorial value -- though I think she is warming to it. So Becca and I were left to our own devices and had a running-themed day: a quick run in the afternoon, followed by dinner and a showing of Chariots of Fire (highly recommended).

Thursday was busy: lunch with the delightful Mackeys, who are in fine form. Terry seems to be recovering pretty well from his nasty tropical disease. No, really, he had Dengue fever, which is not a good time. Anyway, it was great to catch up with them a bit and hear some stories. After lunch, I ran over to Laura's to hang out for a bit. I had a really good chat on the phone with her the other day, too, which was nice. Sometimes I forget we can use the phone for such things. Then it was back home to pop in on dinner with the Pratts. However, I scuttled away to go see Narnia with Katie. Both the movie and the company were a pleasure, though I think C.S. Lewis should really have thought about putting in a positive female character over the age of six. However good Lucy may be, Susan is sort of lame. The White Witch freaks me out no end, so well done there, Tilda Swinton.

Friday (yesterday! How time flies) we went on a Greenwood's expedition with our Christmas money from Grannie. I met Jeanne-Marie there, and we had our usual squeals-and-hugs followed by a brief catchup. She leaves town just before I do, to go back to her dance troupe for a few more weeks. Lori and Colleen came over for dinner-and-a-movie after that, and it was very, very nice to see them again. They are charming, charming girls (and isn't it lucky for them that they know me?). We compared semesters and Christmas presents and holiday plans and watched The Interpreter, which wasn't half bad.

I am anxiously awaiting my exam marks, as the only one I have back right now is geography, an 88% on the exam, so not bad. I have thank-you letters to write, though, so that will take my mind off it.

Tropical Yule

Hello, all! I'm back home and hanging out in my good old room. I am listening to Corb Lund (thanks, parents!) and looking out at a distressingly cloudy sky. It was gorgeous out yesterday. Actually, I'm not really impressed with the weather, because this makes two brown Christmases in a row now. Minus ten points, Mother Nature! Anyway, the past few days have been lovely. The Prattesses came over and watched a few fine films with us Friday night, and then Saturday we just hung out en famille, then went to church at the University. It was not only a very nice service, with excellent music provided by a few of our dear friends, but also a very speedy one. Well done, Father Tim. Today we've had pancakes and present-opening, and it has all been very satisfactory indeed.

Happy Christmas to all! Soon you will be able to call me on my new cellular tellular phone and tell me all about your xciting Xmases. I hope everyone is having a lovely, lovely day.

Sprint to the Finish

This is it, the last lap before home. Much though I do not want to study, I must. I feel that a dash to Mooney's Bay again for a last-hurrah sledding run was justified, although Katherine did break the tray-sled. Boo!

OK, just seventeen hours until freedom. I have a day to get my Stuff In Order and then I'm shipping out on the seven-thirty plane. The Birda awaits.

The Law Is An Ass

Have just returned semitriumphantly from my law exam. I have never written so much on an exam in my life. I met Ian (yes, Hobo Ian) on the bus and he said he started studying at 10 a.m. today and still wrote four bookletsful. Either he was making things up or he is an extremely quick study. Katherine and Emily disturbed me by leaving after two hours instead of three. I was busy getting my hands all ink-stained.

I'm going to go search for the scattered remnants of ma bane now, so that I can study for political science.

The Prophets of Tesco

Law studying going comparatively well, I suppose. Test is tomorrow and I'm thinking of just writing "the return to naturalistic principles in the 20th century!" on the paper, surrounding this brilliant clause with doodles of Blind Justice, billiard balls, and other delights, and walking out. But that's the worst-case scenario, for if I have a little nutty. If no, it should be fine. Only two more exams and then sweet freedom!

Franz Ferdinand is singing to me and I have to go sort out war crimes, crimes of aggression, crimes against the peace, and crimes against humanity. The last should not be confused with crimes against hunanity, which consist of violations of the rights of spicy chicken. A-thank you.

Hello, Internets!

Following Boopsie's accusations of fresh lollybloggery, I am taking a minute out of the salt mines of international law to refresh you all on my momentous life. Here goes.

Yesterday (i.e. Friday) there was much joy and also much sadness. Joy occurred because not only did I not egregiously bomb my research methods exam (hooray!) I also went snowboarding on the hill in the park across the river, and some enterprising souls had built jumps! I went off a few of the wee ones, yes, even though it was dark. It's OK, Mum, I'm fine. So are Jacob, Mike, Metro Justin II (distinct from last year's Metro Justin I), Danielle, and Brittany, and we sat about and had a hot chocolate afterwards. Notl and Katherine got to see me in my snowboarding finery before I left, too. They should feel privileged.

But then I got back and checked my e-mail quickly before bed, to discover that John Spencer, the beloved Leo of The West Wing fame, just passed away of a heart attack. This is the end of an era for me, because that show's humour, intelligence, and high ideals played a role in putting me on the path I'm on now. Now I need to sustain the interests on my own, but the creation of those interests was partly due to The West Wing. Richard Schiff, a.k.a. Toby, said Mr. Spencer was "one of those rare combinations of divinely gifted and incredibly generous. There are very few personal treasures that you put in your knapsack to carry with you for the rest of your life, and he's one of those."

Back to cheery now, OK? Notl slept over, which was excellent fun, and the little squadron of us sat around in the morning eating egg-o-muffins and drinking coffee. It was very civilized and nice. Notl brings the class, see?

Law is looking marginally less terrifying after a good evening of studying, and it helps that after a big excursion to the St. Laurent mall today my Christmas shopping is more or less under control. However, I still have work to do, so I'm going to toddle off now and, uh, do it. Anybody want to flesh out my definition of amicus curiae? "Um, friend of the court" just isn't cutting it for me. Bonsoir, tout le monde!

Fa-la-la-la, la fi-nals season

Today while I was in the bathroom there was something making breathing noises in the bathroom. I knew it had been a while since we cleaned the tub, but I didn't realize it was long enough for anything to have evolved lungs. Upon closer investigation the noise proved to be mechanical and stoppable. The fridge is fast approaching the Condiment-Food Horizon, which can be expressed as (f : k), where f is food in the fridge, and k is volume of hummus, ketchup, jam, and so forth. When the ratio is 1:1, it is clearly exams season.

Very productive studying for geography today in the library. Hooray!

Weekend Update

My public affairs studying gets a big thumbs down so far. Feh. There are so many, many theorists' names to remember.

Fleetwood Mac is excellent. It is snowing in the city. Yesterday I ate a butter tart that disagreed with me (not that it matters) and then spent about an hour with Katherine learning to speak Gaelic on the BBC website. There are separate sections for North Welsh, South Welsh, Irish, and Scots Gaelic. Memorably, the phrase "I make the tea" is included in the "Hobbies" section of the phrasebook. What a strange people they are, those Celts.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Who's In Charge Here, Anyway?

I keep wandering over to this site to check on it. Some of this is just comment-hoarding behaviour, but I am also hoping that it has magically updated itself, for I am too lazy to do it myself much of the time.

Exam craziness is about to begin. Katherine and I have gone pre-emptively insane, spending at least an hour in the past three days leaping through the little curtain of tinsel hanging from the arch between the main room and the landing. It is the best thing ever. We then made a circuit out of it: start in Katherine's room, run-up and leap through tinsel, land and turn sharply right to skid across the kitchen floor. It is perfection itself.

Also did myself proud last night by making eggplant parm. It was edible! All bow before the culinary goddess. This is a big deal to me because eggplant parm is one of those dinners that Mum makes only when it is a slightly special occasion or when she has a little extra time. It's not a full-on Thanksiving-or-Christmas food, but works for the end of classes. Anyway, I have now done another one of those things that the adults in my life do. Weird.

Finally, "Exams: terror or scourge?" Discuss. I'm a little scared of them, and I feel like my study habits have really gone downhill. I guess we'll find out whether or not this is true.

Snow!

Big, fluffy, glorious flakes of snow are drifting past my window! To celebrate, I intend to stay in my pajamas for the remainder of the day. Perhaps, if I am feeling fancy, I will put on sweatpants as I work on my final public affairs assignment. A mere five pages, and yet it is taking me forever. As usual.

There is also talk of tobogganing later. How is this possible when my apartment surely doesn't have space for both a snowboard and a toboggan? Well, I submit that the definition of "toboggan" can be stretched to include any stiff, flat surface of appropriate size. To whit: a cafeteria tray. I have made it high-tech through the clever use of duct tape for handles.

Winter is icumen in

Lhude sing "goddamn". Yesterday winter finally arrived, with the howling, eyeball-fluid-congealing type of wind I remember so fondly from last year. The only catch is that we hardly have any snow. If I am going to get up on a Saturday morning and run with the wind in my face the entire route (have yet to understand the meteorology at work there) then at least let there be picturesque snowdrifts, eh?

Choir concert tonight! Mixed feelings on this, since the dress rehearsal really did not rock in any way, shape, or form. But hopefully the one first tenor who really knows our part will actually show up to the concert; he wasn't there last night. It was harsh. And you know what they say: bad rehearsal, good concert. Right? Right?

Paul Martin...

... is emo. This has just made my afternoon.

John, Paul, George, and Ringo are very excited for the fruitcake.

Here is the aforepromised photo of Figgy, all decked out for the hols. We alternated hanging the ornaments on his left branches and then his right to prevent him overbalancing.

Et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis

Mi madre has accused me of lollybloggery, and I suppose she is right. She is experimenting with snowbirdship at a conference in Miami. As for me, I've been rather busy for the past few days. Here is an update on My Fantastic Life:

Wednesday I had five hours of choir practice, which was madness itself. Our concert is Saturday, and we are reasonably ready except for the Rutter Gloria, which is fine except for when the tenors have an "Amen" with eighth notes anywhere near it. We just sort of give up at those bits and it doesn't sound anything like as cool as it could. The rest of it sounds decent. Wednesday's practice was with the brass, percussion, and organ, too, so we got a good preview of what all that will sound like. I think it will be fantastico.

Yesterday I went for a lovely run with the cross-country folk after an afternoon walking about the in Glebe and a little schoolwork in Loeb (how I love thee, Loeb) after our second-to-last public affairs lecture. Katherine was disappearing on mysterious errands throughout our stroll and refusing to explain herself. All I knew was that Thursday night there was to be some kind of Christmas-related activity going down at our place, and when I arrived home around 5:30 I was expecting great things. After a few hours of further mystery preparations (I was not allowed to look) Emily arrived and all was revealed to us: a full-on, 0-to-60 Christmas kickoff. We stuck cloves in oranges and made gingerbread and drank eggnog, and decorated the ficus, Figgy, until we thought Figgy simply couldn't take any more without falling over. Actually, we didn't really drink eggnog, just the ceremonial sip-and-grimace before we abandoned it. And then we watched Love Actually because that is the best Christmas movie ever. Emily has all the pictures of the festivities on her camera, but I promise to post some soon because it will bowl you over. "Surely that is not a student pad!" you will gasp. "Surely not! There are no empties on the floor, and they have cranberries on strings! What manner of students are these?" These students, gentle reader, are B.PAPMers. This is what they do.

And this morning we have snow. Perfection!

That's All She Writ

Just in case anyone is (God forbid) relying on me for news, it's official: the 38th Parliament is kaput. The writ was dropped this morning, just as I arrived at my public affairs tutorial to do a presentation on the power of the PM and how Martin should/may organize his bureaucracy. Irony! In an historic first, I actually agree with Klein: I'm thinking another Liberal minority. However, everyone will have plenty of time to trip over themselves, so really the winner will simply be whichever party can shove its respective demons the furthest under the rug. The CPC seems serially incapable of breaking through in Ontario and their polling numbers in Quebec are absolutely pitiful. This morning the CBC had the Conservatives pegged at 7% in Quebec, behind the NDP's 8%.

To relive the good times, here is a little humour I found through the Calgary Grit. "And everybody's all, "Dude, that sucks! Halifax is like so far away."

To continue the gadfly theme of this post, Katherine and I think it's hilarious that Gilles Duceppe isn't even bothering to go to Quebec this morning. Nay, he is in Ottawa, as if to say, "yeah, Ah'm at 50% in the only province that matters to me. You English-type MP persons can race out like heads-cut-off chickens, ben oui. Ah will sit 'ere with the C-PAC and watch the fun qui se deroule. Pork rinds, Marcel?"

Gleekend

Gleekend, n.: a weekend of glee.

A few hours ago I returned from a very good two days at the McGill Outdoors Club. Six of us left Friday, in one SUV (natch!) because one of two drivers had backed out at the absolute last minute. That guy's on notice with me, needless to say. Anyway, we arrived about 7:00 and had a mellow evening of chit-chat.

The highlights of Saturday included:

1. Awaking Saturday morning we awoke to find an exciting cast of characters had arrived from all corners of the globe. There were representatives of Australia, England, France, Germany, New Zealand, and Wales present. Actually, I think I was the only Canadian girl in the cabin (unless I mistook some of the francophones' accents), as Anna, the only other girl in our little delegation, is on exchange from England herself.

2. Going snow-skateboarding. This is a new and exciting sport where the participants use skateboards without wheels as tiny, misshapen snowboards. McGill owns a section of the hills across from the house, so we traipsed around the trails and destroyed the skateboard decks on the lack of snow.

3. Losing all momentum after lunch. Basically, we had grilled cheese and then gave up. Unless "playing cards" counts as an outdoor activity, then we did no outdoor activity in the afternoon.

4. Getting to know the members of the G8 summit going on in the cabin. Welsh Tom and I talked about Welsh separatism (I didn't even know it existed, likely because they don't blow things up at all often). He also tried to teach me some Welsh, which sounds cool even if I can't remember any of it. This morning Pete From Leeds played Four Strong Winds on the guitar with the missing string as Kiwi Chantelle declined to be corralled into cooking (pleas of "but you're all descended from Captain Cook! You should cook!" fell on deaf antipodean ears). The French girls mostly talked among themselves, but a few of them mixed.

5. Everyone getting beaten at Risk by German Sebastian, prompting French Mathieu to comment, "third time lucky!" This is one thing I love about university: even with a big group of people and a festive atmosphere, it is always acceptable to start a board game.

7. Not having anyone try to steal my food, which turned out to be better than the sketchy "meat sauce" someone procured for the pasta. Go, veggie burgers! And go, national stereotpyes, too! One of the English kids let out what could reasonably be called a shout of triumph when I produced teabags. "Oh, tea! Lovely!"

So yes. All in all, quite a good weekend. Yes, Jacob, you were right. It was fun.

Memo to Potential Young Conservatives

When Peter MacKay approaches you and asks you to take a picture with him at a party fundraiser, it is pretty cool. Despite this, it mostly signifies the way that the Conservative Party has a dearth of university-age females, so they are going to splash this photo of you all over the website so as to signal that they are so a Party of the Yoof. "Look, you guys!" they will say proudly to themselves, "we had a party and girls came!"

Either that or he has a crush on you. But probably more the posturing.

Oh, Lord, K-dawg is now calling everyone she knows to speak of this encounter.

Last night we saw Stephen Lewis. It was amazing, though somewhat depressing. This is absolutely the wrong way to look at all of his work and his amazing strength, but doesn't it make you feel lazy? Doesn't it make you feel morally inferior? For God's sake, there are 800 people (or children, don't remember) dying every day of AIDS and what have I done today? What am I going to do tomorrow? Nothing much. But I am going to send an e-mail to the Ottawa South NDP candidate, whose platform includes the 0.7% GNP goal for foreign aid, thus striking a blow at all that is evil and encouraging a culture of SHARING AND NICENESS like they told us in kindergarten, because those are good things on which to found a society. Unlike, for instance, that finger in the dike, mine-is-mine ideology called what? Ah, yes. Conservatism.

And scene.

Life Among the Conservatives

To my recurrent dismay, Katherine and Emily seem to be sticking to their cognitive-dissonance Conservative connection. This Wednesday they are volunteering at a Conservative fundraiser silent auction. Now, I don't think the Conservatives are the devil, but I will not raise dough for them just because their deputy leader is (a) the least funny-looking of the MPs, (b) an excellent speaker, and (c) a waistcoat wearer. That last is not a euphemism for anything, he just wears one. Anyway: Pla! to that. I will have to sit here and continue to fume in leftist disenfranchisement and disenchantment. Nate, however, is pleased as punch.

I am pleased as punch that Mum (or Mom, as she would prefer) is here. Last night we went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, eeeee! It was really quite good. The entire Weasley family is just perfect. The directions they gave to Krum consisted of, I believe, "Just be terrifying and Bulgarian." Which works well, for Krum. Though he was too Soviet-gymnast beefy; Krum is supposed to be sort of duck-footed and unnotable except for his Mad Quidditch Skillz(tm). But whatever. It was enjoyable, and Mum and I went out to Oh So Good afterwards for dessert. We split the delightful banana chocolate cake and talked about politics and boys (that is, after all, what we have mothers for!). Today we made mahumbah, which was well received, and went for a drive and a walk in the Gatineau Hills. After that she very kindly treated me, Katherine, Emily, and Nate to dinner at the Greek place. Hot Neighbour and Hot Waiter have been considerate enough to make appearances today, so Mum knows with whom we are most likely to run off to Aruba. Guilt-Trip Waiter appeared as well, reviving his feud with Emily over her failure to recognize him in the elevator in our building a few days ago. In fairness to Guilt-Trip Waiter, Emily did recognize Hot Waiter, and Guilt-Trip Waiter's guilt trip was due partially to heartbrokenness at the discovery of his sidekick status. In the restaurant we had a rousing-yet-civil argument about (what else?) Dubya. We did get the Can-con in, but the characters on the American stage are so much more grotesque that they are great fun to discuss in tones of horror. Somber head-shaking is optional, but recommended for gravitas.

In addition to all these good things, my poli sci essay does not suck; it is due Tuesday and I have only one page left to write. All in all, quite a satisfactory weekend. I have been wined and dined, gotten a bit of work done, and seen two rather good movies (Walk the Line was the other one -- hooray for doped-up Johnny Cash!). Mum should come every weekend!

Mi Hogar, Mi Otro Hogar

Mum's coming on Saturday! Hooray-ray-ray! I am very excited to see her. We will have many funs.

Until then, I have rather a lot of work to do, so I will catch you cats later. Once more: Mum's coming! Yay!

???

Huuuuh? Well, that is a development. Although I am a little confused as to why this is happening now, exactly. But well done, oppositions: you guys pretty much have them over a barrel now. If Martin says "no, no February election" then you can just turn around and say, "oh-ho! How about an election right this very second? How do you like them apples?" So... well done, folks. After only a year and a half, you've woken up and realized that you can actually work together long enough to depose the Liberals. At the moment, I find this to be groovy, particularly since waiting for a few months after the final Gomery report's release would give the electorate and their tiny, tiny brains time to get distracted again. And this would not be truly in the public interest.

Political mastermind, over and out!

Outdoors Glee!

I have just returned from my God the most wonderful 9km trail run. It is a beautiful day for running -- overcast, cool but not cold -- and the leaves are just falling from the trees in the Gatineau. The Running Club put it together (not to be confused with the cross-country running club of which I am sort-of veep). They all seem like really nice people. It was great meeting them, I'm definitely going out to more of their events in future. And, just like the Thursday run, I was the only girl in the front pack. Well done, me. But it was just such a great fall day that you couldn't help but be exuberant! (!!!)

Am going to go cure this endorphin rush by making a shopping list. Huzzah! We're out of milk!

Oh, Saturday

Am listening to Norwegian death metal on the BBC. Most enjoyable! It seems to be some people called Cadaver singing (barking) something called Petrifyed Faces. I am also working on my public affairs paper. My thesis for this particular paper is this: I hate you, Leo Panitch. As I was saying earlier to Emily, even I don't like this article and I want to like Marxist methods of analysis! Feh. It is all full of academic hairsplitting; there seems to be a lot more of that in our readings this year. It was very disconcerting at first but I seem to be getting used to it. Anyway, this article is busily telling me things I already know but putting them in devilishly convoluted terms and making pointless distinctions between virtually identical concepts.

Last night I went out with my friend Steph and various people she knows from choir and other things. We participated in a singalong Sound of Music show, bringing my tally of singalong movie showings to two for this year. V. good. We had great fun hissing at the Baroness, booing the Nazis, and interjecting our own commentary (e.g.: Captain von Trapp: "You aren't going to have another governess, you're going to have a mother." Audience member: [blood-curdling scream]). There were some very adorable kids there, dressed up as girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, drops of golden sun, and von Trapp children.

I am all on my onesie at the moment; Katherine has gone back to the T-dot for the weekend to participate in Olde Familie Traditions, i.e. the Royal Winter's Fair. She tells me that her brother's girlfriend has had him get a very emo kind of haircut. This is humourous on so many levels.

Back to Dr. Panitch. Fist-shaky!

Happy Birthday to Nate!

The birthday boy. Holy Bat Cake!

Remember, Remember, It's Really November

No snow? What's the deal? Now that I have gone and said that there's no snow, there will probably be great buckets of it within the next, oh, ten minutes. But the fact remains: November 9 and no white stuff this morning.

Monday night we hosted a surprise birthday party for Nathanael, after some very close calls. I mean, Monday morning I opened the apartment door wide enough that he could see the decorations. And that afternoon, Katherine and Emily had to do some fancy flinging to get pop and chips around the corner where he wouldn't see them (you weren't supposed to be home, Nate!). We were certain he would know, and I think Emily thought he was toying with her just before the surprise. He actually arrived home from work and said how disappointed he was that she hadn't planned anything for his birthday! She had to keep a straight face long enough to get him down the hall into our apartment where various music student friends of his (and Notl and her boyfriend James) were waiting. We lurked in the entryway for a good five minutes before she pried Nathanael away from their place. And then we all yelled "SURPRISE!", like you do, and did cake and presents and watched a campy Batman movie ("What weighs six ounces, sits in a tree, and is very dangerous?" "A sparrow with a machine gun!"). It was all very nice. And our presents went down well. Katherine, Emily and I got him a "Real Men Vote Convservative" t-shirt and a Batman lunchbox. Emily got him an 8X10 of Sean Connery and... something else, don't remember! I will say that it was very awkward going into this extremely groovy t-shirt place and asking for that on a shirt. This girl with piercings and interestingly layered hair looked a bit perturbed at our choice of lettering.

Monday night I also had my political science research methods midterm. The only disappointing part was that they misspelled "causal" as "casual". I was muy perturbed by the copy-editing failure. School continues as usual. I've taught myself some Excel stuff again. It seems so much easier than it did in junior high! At Heights they made us input data into the chart wizard without explaining why a given set should go in a given place, so if you forgot the order in which to do things you really couldn't reason through it. But it turns out that if you just experiment and use the "help" function, it's really not so difficult.

Coffee's ready! I must away. Choir practice in an hour and a half, and a geography assignment to finish before that! La la, how the life goes on.

Enter Rooms With Great Joyous Shouts

As Dame Edna might say, "hello, my possums!" It is a stormy Sunday here in Ottawa. Just as Katherine and I stepped off the bus with our groceries, Mother Nature decided that now would be a perfect time to rain like crazy so that our stroll to the building became a rain-pelted dash. Thanks, MoNa (I can call her that. MoNa and I are tight).

A few days ago I was looking through Steph Wittenberg's blog, seeing all the old photos. Much to my surprise, I realized that losing them doesn't hurt any more. It still feels sad, but I'm not sad for myself anymore. It is funny how we cicatrice (I have wanted to use that word since I saw it in The Name of the Rose). I guess all I mean to say is that remembering doesn't feel bitter to me anymore. I no longer feel the desperation of loss.

I'm quite enjoying The Name of the Rose, by the way. It's quite an amazing book, actually. The dialogue and narration are just beautifully in period and all the learned-monks stuff is very good. It's hard to think what possible bearing Aristotle could have on a murder investigation, but Eco makes it work! Another one I want to read is that Joan Didion memoir, The Year of Thinking Magically or whatever it is called. Must add that to my "to read" list!

It's Nate's birthday tomorrow. He's turning 23, the old man! He and Emily are in Hamilton right now, having a family weekend. We got him the most amazing present the world has ever known, but I can't say what it is until it has been presented.

What a great storm! Seeing it out the window, it's really quite impressive.

So Here's the Thing...

Today's Cliff's Notes are that my poli sci midterm was okay, that co-op classes are finally done (THANK THE LORD) and that I am disturbed by Canadian politics.

This was sort of the perfect day for a political panel discussion featuring someone from each party. All together now: Gomery! It was so interesting, because the Liberal message was pretty much "well, wait and see, we'll see how the finished investigation goes, a few bad apples, etc." The Conservatives said, "accountability! Accountability now!" and the NDP said, "world peace and child care!" It was odd.

There was an odd feeling in the crowd. Even in this ultimate government town, nobody's happy with the Liberals on this day of days. The Liberal guy seemed really nice and was all about the Yoof, so there was love on that point. But there were also MacKay groupies (Katherine and Emily left as groupies. Although I was embarrassed for them, I agree MacKay is a very engaging and concise speaker) and some hardcore NDP folks. Kind of a nice mix, a bit of a cross-section.

So, in short, I am completely disillusioned. The Conservatives are sort of awesome-looking compared to Liberal obfuscation on Adscam, but in terms of real policy matters are less excellent. (MacKay actually suggested a more diplomatic approach on softwood lumber. Uh, no, we tried that, it kind of left us billions of dollars in the hole. Time for hardball, my friends.) I would love to love the NDP, but they are just such complete flakes that it is difficult for me to do so. Katherine and Emily are semi-converted. A very strange day. I only hope that the effects of Blue Peter (ha ha) and his logical, measured mode of speech will wear off.

I must say, though, Peter MacKay did kind of rock the house. Someone asked the panel of MPs a "fun question": "If you had to be any MP of the opposite sex, which one would you choose?" Navdeep Bains said McLellan, and Judy Ukrainian Last Name of the NDP said Broadbent, but MacKay just murmured, "well, I know who I wouldn't be!" It absolutely brought the house down.

Remaining Seized

Cannot believe the sentences I am writing; they are beyond dreadful. Am never taking a law class again, because I don't want to write like a lawyer. In short, the Jessica Council remains actively seized of this stupid law paper.

On the bright and shiny side, I pretty much destroyed my environmental studies midterm. 43.5/45, heck yes!

Things Not To Do

1. Listen to Imagine while attempting to write an essay on Israel and Palestine, unless instantaneous severe depression is your thing.

2. Allow yourself to get roped into painting sets on your birthday, as Boopsie has. Happy birthday, Boopsie!

Tid-Bit

Forgot to mention that I not only bought Elise's birthday present at a cool little store in Toronto, but also got a button saying "Keith Richards for President". Hey, if Ahnold could do it, no reason Keef can't as well.

In Which Jessica Dies of Glee

So Katherine and I went to a rock concert last night, as anyone who has spoken with me in the past, oh, three months will probably be aware. We were tempted by the merch table, so I am currently wearing my brand spanking new tour t-shirt. As I wear it, and sit at my computer desk, I will tell of our remarkable adventure. If any of you had any respect for me before, you certainly won't by the time this photo-essay is over.

Early, early Tuesday morning we reported to the train station and had a punch-drunk ride to Toronto. We made faces like this one, a lot of the time.

These Pringles would not open. Opening these was probably the only part of the trip out that we did not spend in random fits of glee.

We changed into people who would be acceptable at a rock concert (this is not easy; I am an honours student) and took a photo break, kindly facilitated by Katherine's sister Rebecca. After Katherine's brother Ben's girlfriend, Greer, arrived, we all swept off to the concert together. Well, not Ben. I think he knew the estrogen would be a little much for him.

We got to the venue at about 4:30 and went to stand in line. There weren't too many people there, so we figured we were safe to go around the back without losing our spot. Earlier, the security guard at the front of the building had said things like "I have no idea where the band is. Perhaps at a sound check, perhaps at MuchMusic, perhaps on the Moon. Perhaps I make $8 an hour and do not care for your concerns."

So we checked anyway, and lo and behold! We were rewarded in under ten minutes. Paul, the drummer, was past us before we snapped out of our "Whaaa? The band?" shock, but we did nab the guitarist and force him to sign things, me working on a lame pun project which will be revealed at the end of my spewing here. I told him the pun and he did the customary Rueful Chuckle of Bad Puns.

We came back to the line, we got our spots back, no problem, and we continued to wait. Greer and Katherine went to forage, but I'd eaten earlier, so they left me alone with the fangirls. I noticed those two hipster guys in black over Greer's left shoulder and then couldn't stop laughing because they reminded me of the vultures from the Jungle Book. They just stood there, half-smiling, with their co-iPod, in those exact positions, for about an hour and a half. We all went in, eventually and when the doors opened, they somehow got straight to the front row of the mosh pit (I was in the second row, centre) and proceeded to stand perfectly still for the entire concert. I should know, I leaned on one of them so that I could go enjoy the front row. When he didn't move, I felt kind of bad, so...

Me: Hey, sorry if I was kind of pushing you earlier. It's just that you're really tall, and I wanted to get good pictures and can't see around you.

Entoqued Hipster Vulture-man: Yeah.

We heard the opening bands, who were OK but not totally amazing, partly due to less enthusiastic lighting design, and then we stood around for about forty-five minutes. Here, Greer stands around.

The kit was being set up, in part by one over-enthusiastic roadie who insisted on tuning the guitars about a brazilian times each. I think he just liked being on-stage. Anyway, the crowd was just starting to get restless...

... when the singer, Alex Kapranos, finally came onstage by himself and the rest of the band followed in the sequence of their entries in the song being played. Everyone went slightly nuts from that point on.

Everyone except the hipsters, that is. Even when Crazy Man From Newfoundland came and put his arms on either side of Blond Hipster Vulture-man to force his way into the front row, BHV just stood still, occasionally turning around to say languidly, "f*ck off, man." When Crazy Man professed his love for the band ("I have bled for this band, man! I know all the lyrics! Do you wanna fight?"), BHV just turned around silently and continued non-dancing. Crazy Man, on the other hand, found this an excellent time to begin moshing furiously, putting his sweaty elbow in my ear in the process, and singing one line ahead as if Franz Ferdinand needed prompts. It takes a lot to set me off, and when even I am saying "Shut up! I didn't come here to listen to you!", then you know it is time to lay off. And then there were fangirls to my left. Greer and Katherine got washed away to the rear, about six rows back, but still along that weird frat boy-fangirl fault line that had developed in the crowd. The fangirls were, naturally, situated between the lead guitarist and the lead singer, because those two are, like, such babes. So yeah, that was the scene in the pit.

That security guy at the bottom left was standing looking unamused the entire night. Security is everywhere if the crowd tries anything, but when the rest of the band attacks the drummer with their own musical instruments, he does nothing! Useless, I tell you.

Bassists in the Mist.

I like the beams of light here, but am not such a fan of the lack of focus. Most of the concert, my camera's autofocus seemed to be saying, "Oh! I think I know what you're doing here, you're taking a photo of those speakers in front of you! I'll focus in crystal-clear on those, you'll be really pleased with the results!" in a sort of Eddie the Computer manner.

The SCOTTISH GUITAR MADNESS of Nick McCarthy and Alex Kapranos. Well, Greek guitar madness in the latter's case.

Bob Hardy: Baby-faced Blurry Bassist in Black. In the Back.

GUITAR FURY.

Here we see our friend the security guard in the foreground.

I enjoy that this one looks like I altered it when actually it just turned out weird colours.

At this point, Greer and Katherine wanted to go home, because (poor excuse!) they thought they were going to be sick. But I wanted to stay, and so they were brave and waited, and did not, in fact, puke. There were not too many people around the back of the venue, and we were (I am proud to say) among the oldest and the coolest. So we sat about for about half an hour, slowly getting chilly and punchy. We saw two white vans go by and prayed that they did not contain Franz Ferdinand. Some woman working at the place came out and said in an exaggerated kind of voice, "I don't know what you-all are waiting around for! Show's over, folks!" I knew that she was lying because the universe is just not cruel enough to let someone with that kind of dim, bossy demeanour actually be right.

Then, glory be! About 11:35, Paul the drummer came out. We got his autograph but, being starstruck, didn't ask for a photo. After that, there was no way Greer wanted to leave, and sure enough, the rest of the band came out one by one and we had a bit of a chat where nobody fainted from the rock'n'roll. Thus begins my career as a groupie.

Paul has magical pointy shoes and a scalloped bag.

Bob the bassist signing some stuff. At this point we were still going "EEEEE" to ourselves too much to actually ask for a photo without having our heads explode from happiness overload.

Homina. (Me, Nick, Greer, and Katherine)

I asked him if, now that their tour was over, they got to go back home to Scotland. He laughed in an "I wish!" kind of way, which reminded me that even with adulation and glamour, etc, it must be a pain not to be able to go home for months on end, and to be constantly travelling and meeting tiresome people such as ourselves and doing those vapid celebrity interviews everyone is so fond of.

Just before this photo, a roadie came out and asked whether he could ask us a question. Well, why not? He said, "You guys were here earlier, so I was just sort of wondering if you'd like to come backstage and have a look around, maybe meet some people. We're having a little after-party at one of the clubs, wanna come?" No, that's not really what he said. Actually, Mr. Roadie said that they had all been having some fun with the guitarist because when we had met him before the concert, his fly had been undone. Mr. Roadie wanted to know whether we had noticed. We said that no, we hadn't, but we could pretend to have. So when the guitarist emerged from the back doors, Katherine (I think) stepped up and said, "oh, I see you fixed your pants." So... we mildly embarrassed one of the band members at the behest of a crew member. I count this as a success. We have begun to refer to the incident as our "in-joke with Franz Ferdinand". Thank you, Roadie in Orange T-Shirt, for validating us.

Also: Homina. Rock star.

Homina. (Me, Katherine, Alex, and Greer)

Alex was actually the last to emerge, so these photos aren't really in order. I thought Katherine was going to die; she keeps looking at this picture and going "unnnnnh" and then saying "his HEAD is RIGHT NEXT to MINE". I have told her that all she has to do now to live a happy life is to tape this photo to the inside of her glasses.

Also, he made can-can legs, but you cannot see them in the photo. It was amusing.

Here are the Pantz Ferdinand, the final confirmation of my severe case of Fangirl Syndrome. But they are kind of awesome, right?

On the train back to Ottawa, we got to feel superior to Rolling Stone magazine -- here I am pointing out that they have mixed up two members of the band in their photo caption. It is a good thing there are people, like me, who care about such things.

Appropriate Response: "Squeee!"

So, Tuesday I'm going to Toronto for the Franz Ferdinand concert. (No, not that Franz Ferdinand.) I have been planning wardrobe, makeup, camera-smuggling, meet-the-band strategies, and various other logistics with fervor appropriate to someone actually managing the tour, but gosh DARN I intend to have fun.

I didn't get any pictures of Keith, Katie, or Heather, but I definitely recall seeing them. So here they are at the party I had in June. We will just pretend that they are all at my house together and that this photo was taken Thanksgiving weekend, just like all the rest of the photos I'm posting today.

Here we are with the hosses. They are behaving well here because they are not standing on any grass. If they were standing on grass, they would be eating it. One of them is Governor, the other is General. Do not ask me which is which, please.

The Colleener and one of Katie's miniature horses. Katie is training them for someone else, but kindly allows her friends to play with the wee horses. It was, probably, the best thing I have ever done.

Ah, yes, hot chocolate after dancing makes for the attractive photos. Me, Lori, and Colleen.

Lori, Jared (Andrea's boy), me, Colleen, Stephanie (another unseen-since-grad pal), and Matt (Andrea's boy's friend) getting psyched up to go dancing.

Andrea, who I literally had not seen since graduation. She has returned from a marathon crazy trip around South-East Asia and Europe and had lots of cool photos to show me, Colleen, and Lori.

Liam, Kylen, and Elise watching Final Fantasy on my computer (there is a perfectly good TV right in front of them, but for some reason the computer was better). Liam was less positive on the AV choices for the evening than Kylen and Elise. That is what happens when you hang out with girls, though! This cozy domestic scene was captured as I departed to go dance up at storm at the Union Hall.

Considering Becca's and my talent for totally failing at the dual self-portrait, this one turned out pretty well.

Had I $300, I would put it into this cloak about thisfast.

Amateur Hobotics

Wait; whoa. There's a new SCOTUS justice? I looked away for five minutes, and there is another new one? And... whoa, she's never sat as a judge before. But (from Yahoo News) "While her loyalty to Bush is unquestioned, Democrats publicly and Republicans privately wondered about her qualifications for the high court." Good, then. Nice to see we're putting qualified people on the bench. (Allow me to hop off my soapbox.)

This past week has been pretty good. School is heating up, and the stress is on. I'm coming home for Thanksgiving (join me, please: YAAAAAAY!), which should be just great. And I have an environmental studies/geography midterm on the 17th, a Franz Ferdinand concert to go to on the 18th, followed by a law paper on the 31st, and, in November, a political science paper. All in all, a busy month! It should be a party.

I have been carrying on more or less as usual. We talked about genocide today in international law, which gave me a complex and nearly made me lose my lunch because it sort of highlighted how cold the law can be sometimes, and how cold human beings can be to each other. "No, sorry, we don't think we're obligated to intervene yet. Only 200 000 dead, folks! Call us when you're at a million, and we are so on the case!" So... that was fun.

And then I had cross-country practice. We're doing actual hills workouts this year, which is good for us but terrifically painful, much like angry broccoli with boxing gloves. There was only one person at practice today, apart from me and Jacob, so I am thinking it is Motivational E-mail time. If we're going to bother organizing this (as much as that term can ever apply to me and to Jacob) then the runner-beans had better make it worthwhile.

After cross-country, I had political science. Ian sat with me and Katherine, Emily having gone to Rosh Hashanah services. Hey, we needed a brunette to be a complete blonde-brunette-redhead trio. Ian, as well as having brown hair, is intriguing because he is so socially inept. He seems to have friends in aerospace engineering, but we all know that most engineering students are robots. Or, since Ian is "Hobo Ian" because (last year) he was rather scruffy, his engineering student friends are Hobots. That not-at-all-laboured joke is hilarious to me, Katherine, Emily, and Chris (she's at Trent this year), which gives you a sense of just how huge our brains are, that we can think deep thoughts and still have that kind of space left for convoluted in-jokes.

My heavens. Katherine is having an awakening in feminist economics on the phone with Emily in the other room, defending the Marilyn Waring article on economics we had to read this week for public affairs. I never thought I would see the day! I think she has overcome her fear of feminism, realizing that it is more a fear of crunchy people with hairy legs and protest placards. What a good day this is turning into! I think the highlight of it was the revelation that some economists view the family as a kind of mini-corporation, where "toleration of inefficient personnel" is a real drag, y'all. Like, I hate babies. They're just so useless! And lazy! Why would anybody have them when it's more advantageous just to work hard enough to pay for a good old folks' home, where the caretakers may not love you, but know CPR? Honestly. People are so obstinate in not conforming to the rational economic model of the family, aren't they?

Ahem. Go about your business, I'm just feeling a bit loopy. Must go, Jon Stewart's on.

The Ecstasy and the Agony

Ecstasy: The new Harry Potter movie is out soon! And Corpse Bride has received a favourable review from my critic of choice, Boopsie. Also, The West Wing's season premiere last night rebroke old ground by not, you know, sucking. Mike has started watching Season 3 of my DVDs and said to me in law today, "What are you doing?" "Eliminating genocide. What are you doing?" "Eliminating the penny. I'll come back." Such a great scene. And our collection of Eddie Izzard DVDs has grown to four. So happy days, in the media arena at least! This has been Entertainment Tonight.

Agony: At the age of eighteen, I am teething again. Yes, that's right, both wisdom teeth on the right side of my mouth have decided on one great push on the Eastern front. I am not impressed.

Have just had a sort of tedious weekend; yesterday I did not venture further than Emily's apartment down the hall. Emily is deathly ill, by the way, which kind of sucks. She's been wandering about for the past few days in pajamas, looking stuffed-up but cosy. Today the remnants of Rita have come north to rain on us. Katherine is happy because it is fall weather and she gets to wear her sweaters. So that's a bright spot. Also, Grandma called, which was very nice. I quite miss talking to most of the relatives, because they only ever call the mother ship in Al Birda. Over and out!

Voulez-vous rendre gloire a Dieu avec moi?

A nice, quiet weekend and a reasonably peaceable Monday. Jacob and I organized (I use the word loosely, bear in mind who we're talking about) a cross-country meeting. We have races on Thursday and Saturday, and I may or may not survive them.

Sunday I did an interesting thing, more or less by accident: I went to French Mass. Give this to the Quebecois: they are speedy we were in and out in forty-five minutes, the homily having been about two minutes long. And everyone lined up for Communion in the most hysterically French way. Instead of doing the usual thing, where every row stands up when there is space in the aisle for it, and proceeding in an orderly manner up to the altar server, and then back down the other aisle. Instead, the congregation elected to all stand up and move into the aisles at once, get Communion, and wheel around to come back the exact same way they had come, squeezing between the pews and the line of people waiting for their Communion. Ridonkulous! I have told Mum, Dad, and Boopsie this whole story and now I am telling it here, because it seemed so hyperbolically French. "Surely nobody really does things like this!" I said to myself in amused consternation.

Trala. I love my international law class but am not amused with the textbook, which is terrifically dense. The professor seems to be a hippie type, who refers to the US President as "George" and accuses him and his friends of throwing the entire discipline of international law into crisis. I think we will get along well. He also did not think me a silly twit for making an enquiry about proper Latin spelling. Just so you know, ius and jus mean the same thing. And, shout out to Becca, "if you don't care about Latin orthography, then I don't care about you." Hee!

Silence, Honk-Inciters!

Well, there are people twenty-four storeys down on the corner of the big intersection who are waving some kind of "Honk To Validate ___" poster and people are honking at them. Then they scream. Were I in any way interested in sports I would probably know what they are honking and screaming about, but as it is I have no idea what's going on aside from that whatever is going on it is clearly audible from twenty-four storeys up. Not a good way to start a glorious Friday.

I say "glorious" because it has finally cooled off a bit. It was in the low thirties off and on for several weeks and I was not amused. But now fall is coming in, the trees are changing, and I can wear pants instead of my lightest linen skirt. All is well. School is starting up in earnest, too. I have readings and notes and big case studies for law. I am already scared of that last one, though my poli sci essay looks like "the sweetest deal known to man" (to quote Mulroney, what a megalomaniac he is). It's five pages to my case study's twelve. We'll see how those turn out.

This is a nice point in the year because there isn't so much work that you can't cope. You can still take a few hours to do something nice, so last night I did. After our co-op information session, Katherine and I went downtown and wandered around for a bit, stopping for pizza and to lust after beautiful paper at her favourite paper store. We found ourselves saying things like "ooh, a vermilion vellum envelope, that's what you want! Or maybe the Italian parchment, that feels gorgeous... Eee! Look at these Christmas placecards!" Then it was on to the National Gallery for a few hours. It's free for students on Thursday evenings, so why not? I am very much into the Renaissance stuff, and Katherine likes abstract and modern pieces. Those I can take or leave, though I do like a good Magritte -- I find those reproductions of famous portraits where he turns the sitters into coffins grimly amusing.

It's been a pretty good week. On the weekend, I went to a BPAPMers-only party (several people brought their non-BPAPM friends, so Notl, a journalism major, didn't feel alone after all). The next night there was a housewarming party at Notl, Joni, Devin, and Diana's. It was also to celebrate Diana's tanned return from Portugal, where she had been visiting family. I saw all of the 10th Glen people, which was mostly nice, with a few exceptions (old, angst-filled love triangles make for awkward party-going even for those not implicated). I helped Jacob put up posters for cross-country, and I ran into a few people from 3rd Dundas last year. Kemi is in my Monday night poli sci class, which is great because she's great and I was worried I wouldn't see her this year. In slightly less happy-sparkly news, my law course looks like lots and lots of work. The first week, he gave us the Peace of Westphalia to read in addition to several chapters from our incredibly dense textbook. And this was a fairly light week.

Unlike last weekend's festivities, I anticipate a quiet couple of days. I'll probably be home most of the time, just hanging out and obsessively watching our growing collection of Eddie Izzard comedy routines and reading for law. So if you miss me, then give me a call. I will be happy to hear from you. As it is, I'm planning on calling a few of the kids from home.

For those interested, I know what I want for a Christmas, birthday, or "aren't you fabulous" present: the new Corb Lund album Hair In My Eyes Like a Highland Steer. Yes, shocking, Jessica is asking for country music. But it's so darn catchy! It's this week's CKUA album of the week. I asked for it at a small record store and the guy said "uh, we don't have it, but he's on the cover of Excite this week." So I guess Corb is hitting the big time, if by "the big time" we mean the cover of a free weekly entertainment paper.

One last thing: I Harth Darth is fantastically hilarious, and I haven't linked to it before, so here it is. Elise found it a number of weeks ago, and I've been reading it with glee. Bye, all!

Poster Sale Day is always a good day.

A Sigh of Contentment

The worst things going on with me are, at the moment, blisters. Thursday I wore adorable purple pumps for the first day of class, without knee-highs, and then went rock-climbing with Jacob the next day. My heels are very mad at me. The rest of me (but not my heels) is very happy today. I've had only one class so far, public affairs. The professor seems nice, though you can't really get to know someone in 45 minutes of orientation-style lecture. It looks like an interesting class this year; we get to look at lots of American policy including (hominahominahomina) the decision to go to war in Iraq and the response to Hurricane Katrina. This sets my little heart to pounding, as well you can imagine. This week sees my class:party ratio at 1:2, soon to become 1:3: There's one tonight at Notl, Joni, Devon and Diana's townhouse, to welcome Diana back from Portugal. There was also one last night, at which we didn't stay very long. It was a B.PAPM party but was not terrifyingly buttoned-down, as one would imagine such a party to be given that we are, after all, the future deputy ministers of Canada.

Today I am having a good day: Katherine and I had our Saturday outing for groceries at the By Ward Market downtown, where we got a free extra cucumber from one stall, and Bank Street, where we got an Arabic lesson from the baklava shop guy. So charming are we. And I did laundry, which doesn't seem like such a chore because the apartment complex's laundry machines are infinite times better than the res ones. Actually, I must go take my stuff out of the dryer now, so I hope I will talk to you all soon! And for those of you-all starting a new year of school, I hope it goes swimmingly.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes How do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life? What a long, strange trip this is. It is getting easier, but we were all wounded. If there is one bit of good that happened a year ago today, it was that we really realized that the most valuable things we own are not things, but friends. Today Katherine and I went out to the Market and walked around in the rain. We went to St. Patrick's and I said a quick prayer, and we looked at shoes and vegetables and smelled perfume and lived in the world.

Year Two: Electric Boogaloo

I have returned! Let the party begin! On Thursday I arrived, with my daddy accompanying me as driver/purchaser/moral support/furniture mover and assembler. We greeted Katherine, Emily, and Nate, all of whom promptly sloped off to the Toronto metropolitan area for, respectively, a weekend at home and a wedding. This was actually kind of good, because:

a) I had some time with Dad. Even if we were very busy, it was nice to have him to myself, just to talk.

b) There was nobody around to bother by heaving furniture about and Polyfilla'ing things at all hours.

For his part, Dad was very tolerant and we did actually manage to have fun, an impressive feat, considering the time frame and our massive to-do list. We have been running about for the past four or five days trying to get my room sorted out and find a coffee table. The coffee table search has made me feel like the Knights of Nih: "Nothing fussy -- just something with a little shelf underneath, so as to create a two-level effect. And not too expensive!" It's been impossible. But, luckily, before Dad's departure to the airport today, we found something we liked in Ikea. So I don't have to order anyone to cut down the mightiest tree in the forest with... a herring! Anyway, Dad and I had fun. We bought and assembled a desk (three hours of glee) and various other things, picked up stuff from Greyhound, and squeezed in a couple of meals out and a movie. Red Eye is not recommended, except for the extensive and entertaining post-film "how could this movie be retooled so as not to suck?" debate. We decided that one would have to change, essentially, the entire concept of the movie. Close, Wes Craven, but no cigar.

Last night we went out for dinner with Katherine, who had returned from Toronto. It was a productive dinner because we finally figured out what colour our carpet is: sauteed gazania! Today we went to the Market in the late morning. We succeeded in choosing a rug from a Persian rug store on Sussex Drive (the latest intelligence says that Bailey is quite taken with the rug and spent about ten minutes licking it and making friends. I look forward to the video). Then, after a turbo-powered run through Ikea, it was time for Dad to go to the airport. We had sandwiches and a touching farewell, and I caught the bus back with no disasters. Actually, today has been quite the retail extravaganza, as once I'd seen Dad off, Katherine and I ventured east to an Italian speciality store and a Pier 1, where we bought lentils, vegetable stock, cold cuts, and a chair (I'll leave you to guess which we got at each store, mmkay?). Then we picked up such exciting items as a bathmat, a throw pillow, and a knife block! The chair's bulk forced us to cab it back to the apartment. As my cousin Christopher would say, we have done consumerism. Then we went for coffee with Emily, after she locked herself out of her apartment. The big excitement there is that she's found out about a production of Grease the campus theatre company is putting on. We are soitenly auditioning!

In the evening, I was forced to call my family to ensure that Dad had returned home safely, because nobody called me to tell me this. Silly family! But all is well, and all is well, and all manner of things shall be well.

Our clock is so many kinds of cool. It is already hanging on the wall in the apartment, and it rules. Oh, I'm home now, by the way, so I won't be updating this blog for the rest of the summer. It is my Capital Adventures, after all. Exams went fine and I am home safe and sound. If anything earth-shaking happens, I'll let you know.

"I might have an emotion"

Today is the last day I will live in res. I'm supposed to check out by 6 p.m. and have been quietly noting the "lasts" all day:last lunch in the caf, last first-year exam I will write (woo!), last dinner in the caf, last time I'll see the gals from the floor, last time I'll look out my window to see the little squadron of hipsters smoking in the rain, last Daily Show with the 10th Glen Girls, last night I'll sleep in "my" room. Last time I'll have any really pressing reason to walk to res from anywhere on campus. Also, joyously, the last fire drill! Yes, that's right, at 1 a.m. we had a fire drill. We were outside for half an hour, at least. Not cool. Anyway, everyone's been getting all verklempt about leaving. Even Katherine, she of the black heart and cool head, admitted that she had to leave somewhere because she was at risk of having an emotion (hey, family: "Dad, I had a feeling today!" Well, don't, son." "Emotions are for ethnic people.")

My last exam went pretty well. I was making up generalities for my last essay, because I really just wanted to get out of there. In the morning Katherine's mum will come with their giant old Caddy and start moving stuff. Apparently the trunk is big enough for several bodies. Maybe it'll even take us less than four trips to get all our stuff over to the apartment. Currently I'm at three suitcases, three largish cardboard boxes, and four small "sweater" plastic boxes. Uh oh.

I have not even begun taking down my quotes'n'lyrics wall. It's my great work of art for the year, and I tried to only put up songs that felt important on a given day. This means that a lot of the songs are quite sad, because sad and important is easier to pull off than happy and important. In short, I think the quote wall disassembly is when I'm going to lose it. But I haven't lost it yet, so there's hope! And it's not as though I'm going anyplace horrible. I'm quite glad to be going home; I just wish I could do it without leaving school.

Anyway, congratulations, all. We made it! One down and three to go. And it is time for me to go to bed because I am exhausted. Goodnight!

Leaser of Two Evils

Sorry. The sad part is, that's only the second-worst pun I've made today. Anyway, the big excitement of today is that Katherine and I have signed a binding legal document. Hooray! The apartment is ours as of May 1, and I could not be happier about it.

In other news, it looks like we're girding ourselves for an election soon. And I'd only just gotten over the excitement of the last one -- I was actually looking forward to a government with the Liberals in charge but the NDP having enough power to make a significant difference in policies. And I don't have my political science classes anymore to help me keep on top of things. Perhaps I shall have to think critically on my own. Alas! Speaking of poli sci, the exam for that was today and it went... all right. I think I could probably have used a few more concrete examples in my essays, but overall it was tolerable. The "identify and explain the significance of" section was fine, so that's something.

Home in 16 days!

The Wedding

Well, I've been seeing some footage of it and have become morbidly fascinated by the hats. They are amazing and terrifying all at once. Here are some brief notes:

1. You know your wedding is classy when the people marrying right after you are called Mr. Tom Crapper and Miss Deborah Biltcliffe. She must really love him, to give up a perfectly snotty name like Biltcliffe in favour of being Mrs. Crapper. Either that or young Master Crapper is loaded.

2. Camilla... Milly. Can I call you Milly? Please don't unravel wicker breadbaskets and put them on your head, dear. She really doesn't seem like a bad woman, but a little dignity is called for. That goes for the rest of you, with the flugle horns, feathers, birdcages, and Spanish galleons on your noggins.

3. William! To quote the Bard, "shut yo' mouth, boy! You catchin' flies?" None of the girls will think you are hot anymore if you walk around looking toothsome all the time, Wills.

4. From what I've seen on The Daily Show, Anglican prayers are intensely depressing.

5. All men, everywhere, should wear tailcoats and pinstriped trousers, always. There is not one guy at that wedding who didn't look his best.

I supposed without the crazy hats we can't know we're in Merrie Olde Englande. Head-mounted chamber pots/pheasants do maintain the mystique of the Isles. Anyway, congratulations to the happy couple, and I hope their honeymoon is as wonderful as a honeymoon in Scotland can ever be.

I Have an... Apartment

It's a little bewildering to be able to say that. Soon I'll be able to say, "hey, guys, let's go back to my place and hang out" and be totally unsupervised, like a grownup or something. No parents, no res fellow. Weird. Katherine and I kept saying, when we were looking for a place, that we were surprised potential landlords didn't look us up and down and say, "Nice try, girls. What are you in, grade six? Seven, maybe? The gig is up, now go home!" Anyway, we have a place. Two bedrooms, one of which is big enough for two. Big living room. Plain walls. Venomous orange carpet, to be covered with area rugs. No dishwasher, but whatever. And I sent the photos to my mum and dad, and they pass the Mum Test, so all is well. It's in a decent part of town, and all is well.

Exams are coming. Dun dun dunnnnnn.

Long Time, No Blog

It's me again. Surprised? I've been super-busy, doing... well, I don't even know what. School, going to a rock show (it was HARDCORE, man!), looking for an apartment, getting ready for exams, it's all taking up time. Also, I'm extremely lazy and every time I look at this blog, I have to look at the broken, broken format and it makes me sad that I don't technically know how to fix it, nor do I really want to learn how. I'll get into the template and fiddle around with stuff, maybe that'll help.

Anyway, life continues as usual. The trip to Toronto for Easter was awesome, and I met basically the entire population of the city. There is some mad civic pride going on down there! You can tell that people are really proud to live where they do, it's not that they deliberately centre their lives on their city. It's just that it's the only city in Canada that is big enough that you could live there and never have to leave, yet never get really bored. Anyway, it's a good time. I recommend it for a visit.

Since Easter, life has been fairly quiet. I took Jacob to church with me on Saturday, thereby freaking out Fr. Andre. Apparently we are not used to outsiders at St. Margaret Mary's, because when Jacob asked for a blessing instead of the bread and wine, the good padre looked a little shell-shocked. Ironically, we went on the day that the Pope passed away. I can't be too sad that he's gone, because he was having such health trouble that I don't know how much he'd been enjoying life. No matter how bravely or cheerfully he suffered, there's only so much a man should have to endure, and he's gone on to a better place.

I have to go finish my journaux de bord for French class. They're due in five hours and I still have one to finish writing up. All will be well!

Thursday I skipped out of poli sci and packed up for an Easter weekend at Katherine's. Emily is seen here with the packing.

Nate is awesome, and drove us all the way to Toronto, and his girlfriend Emily, well...

Emily is hot.

Cool graffiti on the fringes of campus. I took a walk down before French class to photograph it, and then a run back so as not to be late for French class.

The Ganja

"Recent work on people who give up a heavy marijuana habit seems to show that they suffer anxiety and loss of appetite." This according to the Economist. So, gosh: not being chemically mellow means anxiety (hey, I'd be anxious if my friend Horace the Elephant disappeared), and the disappearance of the munchies counts as loss of appetite? Tell me why we pay researchers money, again.

Slam Dunk

I just realized that our men's basketball team hasn't lost a game in three years. Holy. Pretty unbelievable, eh? When that streak ends, there will be wailing and weeping. Anyway, coming back to ME, I have no idea what's wrong with this site lately. I posted a word quiz that I took and since then everything's been all messed up.

Song du jour: "Every Day I Love You Less and Less", by the Kaiser Chiefs. This song is devoted to whatever is ailing my blog template.

Formatting Blues

Baaaah, I have no idea what that word quiz did to my blog, but it's all brokeny now and none of the margins are where they used to be. Maybe another post will fix it? Let's hope.

Spring, Sweet Spring

Spring, as my choir song says, is the year's pleasant king. I'm psyched because it's nice out and I get to wear a skirt and paint my toenails. In fact, I am doing the former and have just finished doing the latter. Joy! Today's public affairs lecture (Keynesian economics and associated thought systems) was interesting, but the lecture theatre was devilishly hot. We had our break and I nearly didn't come back in. Katherine commented to Emily, "she's like our puppy. We could just open the doors, and let her run, and run, and run!" I laughed and continued running up and down the stairs. It's amazing how good a little sunshine feels. "It's been a long, cold, lonely winter. It feels like years since it's been clear."

This weekend was good. Friday night I went to Jacob's for Saint Patrick's Day festivities -- we sat and watched Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy with Steph. Steve and two of his friends were around for a short while, but had other parties to go to (or had to go home, I don't know) and left after a little while.

This is from the same night as Emily's photo, below. Rocky Horror Picture Show and then out for dessert at Zak's diner. Here we see me and Yuna waiting for the bus in the Rideau Centre McDonald's (it was cold outside).

Emily's photo debut on my blog! She's got rhythm, that girl. Katherine looks on in horror.

"REALLY Lebanese Food: Home of the Garlic King!" This was just too good to throw out without memorializing. Wearin' a chef's hat with a crown over it? Audacious fashion choices, Your Pungent Majesty!

Hunting Season

The hunt is on for an apartment. Last night Katherine and I went to see our first one, which was quite good for practice in seeing apartments but which we would not take were it the last apartment in town. It's in a pretty nice neighbourhood, but each floor has a different base smell, and each tenant's room had its own patina of smell over the base. The paint was peeling, the floors were basically wooden slats, and there were broken-down spare mattresses standing in the stairwell. What's worse, it wasn't even really an apartment, it was a rooming-house. You can't call something an apartment unless it is a self-contained unit with a space approximating, I don't know, a living and dining room. What this lady wanted was a way to rent out three crappy, overpriced rooms for the trouble of one. Anyway, long story short, I feel sorry for the guys who agreed to live there and pay extortionate rent for a dire little series of rooms. Phew. Rant over.

Anyway, other than the apartment hunt, life is pretty quiet. I have plenty of schoolwork to keep me busy. Sunday I went snowboarding, I've watched some good movies with friends, and this weekend I met a second Jessica and Katherine and a second Mike B. One of those meaningful coincidence things -- I should get the Existential Detective Agency from I Heart Huckabees on it. Actually, I should have them come work for me because Lily Tomlin is priceless in that role and it would be beyond cool to meet her.

In other news, I'll be going away to Toronto for Easter (hooray!) to stay at Katherine's house and eat her food and make her show me around the city. And then that week, Chris, Colleen, Aine, and Niamh plan on coming up to see Ottawa. I cannot think of an uglier time than early April to come see Ottawa, but there's always lots to do, whatever the season. So it should be fun despite being unscenic. Nancy left a very nifty guidebook called Secret Ottawa, and I'm sure that when I have class they can just adventure on their own. They are good at adventuring, besides being tons of fun to have around. I don't have any exams until April 14, so I'm not too worried about the few days of studying I'll miss.

I suppose I should go do some of that "plenty of schoolwork" now. Bah!

You know this boogie is for real

Once more, apologies for my slacking in the blog department. I haven't been particularly busy, it's just that nothing all that special has happened. I'm currently in the throes of finding an apartment for next year. Tomorrow Katherine and I go to look at our first one. We think it's in a dodgy part of town, but I can't remember exactly where the dodgy part of town starts and ends. In any case, if it is in some kind of crazy gangland where your bike will get stolen if you leave it unlocked for three seconds, we just won't take the apartment!

This weekend was fun, if not especially productive. My poli sci essay is all handed in, so I kind of took a mental vacation. I'm happy to report that my snowboarding skills have taken leave of me completely, and I have never landed so few of the jumps I attempted. Although I did land flat on my back like an overturned cucaracha several times. Anyway, I went with Mike B. and his friend Mike B. (I am not joking) and it was a lovely Sunday. Next Sunday I plan to go to church with Natalie, as an experiment. She's Mormon, and I'm not planning on converting but it sounds like an interesting afternoon, so I'll tag along. She says her congregation isn't mad for the evangelism anyway. I have no fears of any fundie craziness, because Natalie herself is far from being a fundie crazy. In fact, she is a lovely girl, and has a good, tolerant head on her shoulders. And you can tell her mother I said so.

Also great fun this weekend was Friday night, when I met the other Jessica and Katherine, who are Emily's friends from Hamilton. They came up for the weekend and went out to see a production of Fame, during which time Emily, Katherine, Yuna, and I watched Rocky Horror and then had a dance party of extreme hotness. We have the moves, what can I say!

Today's public affairs lecture was kind of tedious, because we're getting into the development of concepts we already covered in econ, but Professor Carmichael managed to save it with a great story. He told us about the spooky, dark, creepy basement computer lab at the school where he did his grad work. He was down there a lot with his punch-card computer program (for 'twas back in the day) but didn't like being there alone because there was always this disheveled man with a toque and an umbrella, muttering by himself among reams of computer paper. Years later, Carmichael was shocked to see a photo in the paper and recognize the scary computer lab man. Upon recognizing him, he read that this man had received the Nobel Prize for mathematics and was, in fact, John Nash. Whoa. Anyway, I thought it was cool. But now I have to leave behind Professor Carmichael's story-telling prowess and go to French class. (As an aside, Carmichael has been known to go off on two-minute rants about how awful Scotland is. "Scotland has the worst brand of Christianity in the world! Presbyterianism is... Calvinism without the fun! And the food is dreadful." It's grand.)

Goings-On

What a lollyblogging kind of week. I haven't updated because nothing terribly exciting has happened -- political science essay past due, cross-country and choir practices, another NAC performance (actually, that was terribly exciting!) and miscellaneous other fun. The Keener Squad and Notl went out to the Bayou on Friday night and had some tasteful fun. Line dancing, anyone? And life continues as per usual. I got my midterms back and have no complaints about my marks. Not all that much to update about. Tonight was nice, though. I went running with Jacob and then to his house for "people food". After an inordinately large dinner and some wine-tasting with his mum, I went back to the dorm.

Now to kick this little head cold. Rarr!

Coolosity

Today I got to sing with my choir at the National Arts Centre, with the NAC Orchestra, and it ruled all. I mean, I wasn't good or anything, but at least I got to impersonate a loon and wear a kicky white puff-sleeved blouse with velcro fastenings, paired with a red dress with a sash. And it was for the children, so it was worth it.

Four Strong Winds

They blew me back to Alberta, eh? Prepare for a long blah blah blah about all the things I did, for it was truly a great little reading week. What kind of reading? None, really. I managed to get to the U of A law library for a day or so (Laura, it really is awesome! So peaceful...). Other than that, it was pure fun. A few days of snowboarding at Sunshine and Lake Louise with the family was a great mini-vacation. We didn't get ourselves moving very quickly in the mornings, but it was most lovely to be on the hill again. I crashed into approximately 1 043 trees but didn't hit anyone. Mum and Dad took a lesson and raved about it afterwards -- their instructor, a Scottish "nice young man" named Tom, apparently really knew what he was doing and helped greatly. We did some of my favourite slopes at Sunshine, as well as some new ones. Our day at Lake Louise was not quite as fabulous, on account of the icier slopes and lack of fresh snow, but still fun. Mum and Dad are antsy for Elise to pick skiing or snowboarding so she can buy equipment and we can stop messing around with rentals. I don't know which she wants to do, but it's probably a difficult choice because it locks you into one or the other. Anyway, we were in the mountains from Saturday to Tuesday. We had some good meals, we tired ourselves out skiing, and we watched movies on TV because we were way too zonked after a day on the slopes to do anything else.

Then it was back to the Park for several days of mild debauchery. Wednesday night I slept over at Tawnie's, which was le fabulous. We watched several episodes of Oz and were immature. We almost got run over as we wandered the streets in search of candy, and Tawnie mocked me for shrieking. Feh to you, Miss Toonie! Feh! You would totally have shrieked if... you had... shrieked. Yes.

The next day, Thursday, I went to the University to make Mum drive me home (she did, because she loves me and wanted to go home early anyway). We got a haircut -- really, a haircut because mine looks exactly like hers, only with bangs. Then I went to the mall to drop off resumes and visit with Tom, who is still "working" at the hobby shop. When I got there he was playing Risk with his boss and the boss's daughter, the fourth player having already lost and skulked off. Tom is smart enough to lose when playing Risk with the boss. However, he really needs to get permission to do homework or read or something on the job, because the games he has evolved to pass the time are just way too intricate. "OK, so you line the little wooden knobs up like this, in a triangle, and then you flick them. Now the last one in line has to go between the other two, and the object of doing this is to get it to the other side of the counter." He took his break and we had a nice talk in the food court. He was full of the news: Jesus Paul has a girlfriend, which Tom deems "cute". Our graduating class also has its first out-of-wedlock child on the way. Go us? I won't say who the proud parents are, mostly because I don't even know whether it's just a rumour and also because it would be impolite. Additionally, there is a chance that it will drive people crazy not to know. And I am evil. Anyway, I papered the mall with applications for summer jobs and also had a very pleasant chat with Tom. So Thursday was good.

Friday I hiked over to the University library with Mum to do the aforementioned reading and checking out of books for my poli sci essay. Hopefully it will be useful. And I had a lunch date with my mother and her friend Margaret, which was fun. It's always good to hear the faculty's point of view on such things as undergrad misbehaviour, to prevent future missteps. In this particular case, the moral of the story they were discussing was: If your prof's mother has just died, then don't be an arse -- don't ask her about your midterm marks as she's heading out the door to go to the airport. Honestly, some people. Anyway, a pleasant afternoon at home, and then the lovely Heather came over for dinner and a chat. Whee! She is really a most excellent person, that Heather. After that (I know this is an encyclopedic blah blah blah of my life's chronology but that's just too bad for you) it was time for a night out at the theatre with the fambly. Metamorphoses is sort of amalgam of Greek myths. It's a little on the bewildering and uneven side, with no clear narrative structure, but there were some bits of it that were just stellar (Phaeton: "And it was, like, chaos, right?"). Pretty cool. And there was an actual pool in the stage, which they used all the time in the staging and which was kind of nifty, so I can't complain loudly because that part was cool!

Saturday was delightful -- I did my first-ever tax returns with Dad. We discovered, to our mutual delight I'm sure, that the gummint owes me $2.11. I plan to put it away for my retirement when I get my cheque. Whee! And then it was more resume distribution. I have applied at eight places. Oy. And then Katie, Colleen, and Lori came over for dinner. It was awesome. After dinner we sat in my room and laughed hysterically for an hour and a half, just as it should be. I showed them the Llama Song and Colleen got all fascinated-like. Katie shocked us all by showing up with short brown hair and glasses (who is this person? we thought). She looks fabulous, though. Brown hair suits her, and is after all more her natural colour. After that dinner, it was over to the Lockaus' to await Laura. Like Katie, she had been in Vancouver all week, and her flight was delayed because of fog. But she got back safe about 11:30, and we said hi and had some birthday cake for her long-past birthday. She seems to have had a good time in Van City, and brought back the remains of a White Spot kid's meal: a cardboard pirate ship. Way too cool. Actually, that reminds me of a woman I saw on the bus to the University, reading a book entitled Pirates of Desire: A Personalized Romance Novel starring Deborah and Curtis. Seeing this, I proceeded to choke myself stifling laughter. And I was all alone so nobody else saw the weird, weird badness. Anyway, that's about all I did. Thank heavens the break wasn't longer because then I would be here until I died, writing this blog post. If you, dear reader, have survived this long, I commend you for your endurance and patience. Fin.

!!!!

I'm going home tomorrow!!!!

!!!!

And my econ midterm did not totally suck. So I am in a very positive frame of mind just now. At lunch with Katherine and Jacob today, it struck me once again how I always manage to construct at least two totally different groups of friends everywhere I go. So I guess we don't change that much, really. Anyway, call me if y'all are in town! And remember, after March 3, the Jessica Hotel is open for business, because school looks a lot less crazy. Tours of Ottawa's finest bakeries and tchotchke shoppes available upon request.

Ancient Wisdom

A most delightful dinner tonight with Yuna, Katherine, and Emily and her mother and baby sister, Isobel (cute baby! And who knew Katherine was a baby person?). We reflected meditatively on many things, with great perspicacity, of course, and told the tale of our Thursday night jazz club excursion. My fortune amused me greatly: "Your love life will be happy and harmonious." Only one way to go there, bub. The food was great, and Emily's mom is really cool. Much like Emily herself. Emily herself promised me, Katherine, and Yuna that we will be her bridesmaids. Expect to be held to that promise, Ms. Connell.

This morning, after three delicious hours' sleep, I roused myself to go see our EnviroMin defend his ministry from accusations of doing too much/too little for the environment(standing, as the Liberals do, in the middle of the road, they get hit by traffic from both directions). It was okay. He kind of sounds like Kermit the Frog, only French-accented. His climate change plan doesn't sound earth-shaking. I'd start by laying off the feeble gags, like dressing all in green and calling himself a "green minister". I can see why people are criticizing the plan, though. It's an environmental protection measure, so naturally the Conservatives are aaaaall over smacking it down to defend "the families who will have to pay extra for heating costs" Right, folks. Your business friends have nothing to do with your opposition. And the NDP is getting cranky because it doesn't seem like enough, and includes some voluntary measures and stuff that they don't think will work, like emissions credits. Bottom line: free muffins and coffee at the event.

And now it is time to work on my history book review, due in 13 hours as it is. I'm nearly done, but it's not good by any means.

Suspicious Cafeteria Items, Pt. IV

"Fruity Turkey Pasta".

And All That Jazz

This week went by in a whirl, again. It's been pretty busy trying to get all this stuff done (see previous post), and so last night I felt celebratory, having probably not egregiously failed my poli sci midterm. To rid myself of this feeling, I tagged along with Emily'n'Nathanael, Katherine, and the lovely Yuna. They were going out to a benefit at this jazz club right near the university, and it turned out to be an utterly wonderful evening. The music was live and really good. I don't know jazz, but now I do know a couple of music students from the university, including two Daves, a Corinne, and a Ben. The latter is an amazingly efficient flirt -- I think he got around to every girl in the room in the space of about three hours. In any case, I have now been Out to a bar that I actually really like. It's not all about the partying, it's about the music, and there were moments when everybody was just listening. It was really nice. And there was no deejay having a birthday and taking the occasion as a reason to chant "let's get drunk, and have sex!" into his mike. It was just people having a nice time, and it wasn't too crowded (apparently it's kind of a ghost town most nights). Anyway, the BPAPMers are grateful to the music students for showing them how to get down and have a little fun of a Thursday night.

In other news, Charles and Camilla Parker Bowling Ball (as the Arrogant Worms have christened her) are getting hitched. Mum tells me that some woman on the radio said, "I don't want to be nasty, but that woman looks like a witch!" There was a time when she would be drawn and quartered for such impudence... ah, those were the days.

Aieee

That is my word of the week. Within the next 23 days, I have: a history book review, three midterms, a poli sci paper, a fiddly little public affairs assignment, two choir performances, a ski trip, and four glorious days at home.