The science of the (im)possible test

Have a feeling I screwed up my political science exam but good. I got there a few minutes late (I always think that dumb class starts a half-hour later than it actually does! It's a good thing I decided to come "early".) Not feeling so confident just now, but it will all come out in the wash. The midterm's only worth 15%, so there will be plenty of room to fix my mark.

However, I am thrilled to report that I have also got mail again! A very nice Hallowe'en card from Grandma, a few newspaper clippings, a note, and some amusing playing cards from Mum, and more newspaper clippings along with a quintet of very excellent notes from Jeanne-Marie. I am so blessed to have people who actually bother writing to me, particularly as I am an extraordinarily unfaithful correspondent.

That said, this game is evil. It is "the thrilling web-based adventure in which a curious little monkey commits horrific crimes against humanity!" It's not graphic, except in its descriptions (and some of the monkey's crimes really are quite funny).

Wingly Goodness

West Wing is officially still my favourite show. Not that there was much concern about that, but The Daily Show is closing fast, it seems, with its heeelarious take on Zell Miller at the RNC. Anyway, The Premiere was great. I'll recap it quickly some other time.

Tidmerms

The Mom-requested midterm update: My head is spinning a bit because of the volume of history I have just spewed out. It was crazy, I just kept babbling on. Hopefully the "babbling" passes for structure, and I didn't betray my ignorance by spelling things wrong. Misspelling Russian names is excusable -- though I did add a dash of authentic Slavic flavour by insisting on spelling Peter "Piotr" and Alexander "Aleksandr". This may be incorrect, but don't tell me it's less fun than Pete and Al. History exam was not too shabby, I think, and the econ seemed to go well, too. No entertaining stories to tell about that one. Hey, it's the Dismal Science, what do you want? Time will tell about the marks for those, though I do feel relatively confident. Now only the really scary one remains: the Science of the Possible, a.k.a poli-sci.

The real excitement in my day, though, is the West Wing premiere, in just five short hours! Will President Bartlet create peace in our time? Will Josh and Donna just get married already? Will Leo relapse into alcoholism, now that John "Helicopter" Wells is in charge? The tension grows!

The Wash

Midterm season commenceth. Fortunately, midterm season also terminateth Thursday, so hopefully I will survive. The agenda for the week? Tonight: study. Tuesday: economics midterm and study. Wednesday: history midterm and studying. Also some freaking out. Thursday: weeping and terror, followed by (and possibly accompanied by) poli-sci midterm. Anyway, I think I'm in okay shape for the first two. The second one I am not sure what to expect from, so I am slightly terrified. Anyway, it'll all come out in the wash. This is my mantra nowadays.

The weekend was pretty calm, just the way my parents hoped my university weekends would be. I did some work on my Big Essay, studied for my tests, and vegged. Sunday night I went to Jacob's for a study session-slash-West Wing marathon. It ended up only being one episode, plus dinner and a movie with his parents (who are very nice and quite funny as well) but the history studying was worthwhile. It made me feel very obsessive-compulsive, though, because I realized that I need to have a date for every single occurrence. I am slightly hell-bent on memorizing said dates, and have had some minor successes remembering the dates of the Franco-Prussian War (1870-71) and the date of Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination in Sarajevo (June 28, 1918, which is St. Vitus' Day). Go me...?

Here's to a prospective lack of failure!

Foxy laundry!

Foxy Lady is the best song ever.

Well, I have been very lax in updating this blog. Dreadful business. I must speak with the manager about this. It's been quite busy around here, and I'm taking a short unauthorized study break to do a bit of an update. Basically, my life is boring, aside from the magic of Jimi Hendrix. I have been sitting in my room quite a lot and not doing much of anything besides the occasional bit of schoolwork (my econ assignment is almost done! Hooray!).

Had a very satisfactory "study party" today with Katie-or-Kate (not yet sure which she prefers) and Lynn. Not to tempt the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing, but I don't think the econ midterm will be so terrible. Hopefully I will remember to think things through clearly and it'll be okay. The only one I am really afraid of is my poli-sci midterm, particularly as I'm not very sure what the content is. The prof is being very mysterious indeed. Crazy man.

The weekend at home was fun, although it is a little odd being on my own again after four days of total immersion in an insanely social atmosphere. I don't think I was alone for more than an hour. It was awesome. But now I am sitting in my tiny box of a dorm room again, and Indra's watching a movie on her computer, not that we talk much anyway. Actually, she's a dream roomie if you want a quiet one. She hardly ever speaks and we don't argue over domestic issues, e.g. "You didn't clean the Big Pointy Orange-Cutting Knife and I saw you using it!" "Nuh-uh!" I do wish she talked more, sometimes, but it's probably better this way. Nobody distracts me but me, and I do a pretty good job of that myself.

Today's lesson: Allow at least two hours for laundry, or else you will have semi-wet clothing spread over your bed in a pathetic effort to dry it out after its insufficient time in the dryer. Alas. I am not a domestic goddess after all.

The Not-so-Great War

Productivity is highly overrated. Today I have been to an economics lecture and tutorial (both of which I left more confused than I was when I entered), typed up my history notes, and typed up my public affairs notes. And hey, it's only 5:30! Just look at me go.

The Internet is a bad, bad time-waster, and e-mail is the way that its devilry invades your heart. BAD INTERNET! BAD!

Yesterday night I went rock climbing, which was fabulous fun. I may have to go again just to sort myself out on the 5.9 wall that I tried and at which I failed miserably ("I'm supposed to reach what hold?!"). I did a 5.7 easily, though. The best part was probably dangling upside down, though. You know what was in my head, don't you? Yes, you do. Oh, yes you do: I am Spider-Woman!!!

In other news, we have started World War One in history class. This is very depressing. To showcase how depressing we should find this, Professor Mayer insisted on showing us a grim video full of graveyards and grainy footage of horribly young men being shot down by people they had never met. This, of course, made me cry and people from several directions proffer tissues, which were appreciated because I have run out and am too lazy to go buy any. When I get back, I will go shopping. This will make me a better roommate, also, because I have been very bad lately in terms of eating Indra's fruit and dried mango slices. It is not my fault that they are delicious. And hey, whose idea was it to make a tres ghetto bowl for said fruit, and out of whose old cereal box was that bowl made? Oh, yeah: me, and mine. Don't tell me I'm not a good roomie.

Lovely day for an unexpected delay!

My, what an exciting day I had Wednesday. The bus drivers were conspiring against me, for some reason, with the result that it took me three hours to get to Rideau Centre for a piddly errand and back to campus, rather than the usual hour or so. Miserable. Anyhow, on the ride, I jotted down some things that made me smile or think well of the world:

- The Hellenic Community Centre, the Temple Israel, and a bible chapel all in the same block.

- The realization that a month in the city does not a city-dweller make, and the accompanying realization that even if it did, I still might not understand the public transport system.

- A quick trip through the Corza Italia, with its many delicious and/or kitschy restaurants (and one lonely Moroccan restaurant).

- An Indian woman in a full sari, three elderly Koreans, and two piratical-looking men, all on the same bus at the same time.

- The enchantingly semi-run-down brick townhouses near Preston and Elm Streets.

- Driving past some farmers' fields, causing Alberta flashbacks and feelings of superiority (our fields are bigger! And wheatier!).

- The discovery that the houses in Nepean are quite nice.

- The possible exception from the previous rule of a large, gated, villa-style house with what appeared to be a large triangular Rubens painting over the garage. Very tasteful, folks.

- Two sightings of very cute babies, one with proud grandfather in tow.

So, you see, despite the low point of the voyage (waiting, with clipboard, in front of the Cuban embassy for half an hour for the errant #5 bus) an unplanned delay can prove quite pleasant. Well, until the Cubans come in the night for my clipboard and my life.

It also led, indirectly, to what I spent this morning doing. See, if I hadn't had those dreadful things happen, I wouldn't have had to go to a make-up history class Thursday night, and I wouldn't have run into Jacob, a runner from my Public Affairs tutorial, and he wouldn't have tipped me off to the race I ran this morning. I really miss racing, and maybe next race I will actually be, you know, competitive. Today's was a short 10km (closer to 8, I heard) over some mountain bike trails and ski runs (!) in the lovely and autumnal Gatineau Park. The terrain was what they call "technical". This means, in essence, lots of things trying to scratch you and to twist your ankle, which is what happened to Jacob. Finished anyway, though. Crazy man! It was quite the fun (as they say), and the fall colours are coming in really well, making a pleasant setting for extremities of pain.

The Aliens

Well, now. My essay on Western alienation is not going to make much sense, because Western alienation doesn't make much sense. Really, so much of political division is based on "we are different from Group X now because we were different then". I mean, if you don't have an industrial base and have been stifled by years of East-friendly policies, then you will continue to be so long after the policies change. Arguably, the policies haven't changed that much, but if these are all historical grievances that continue to take the Nutella-smeared bread from Prairie children's mouths? Eventually you're just shooting at dead men. And flogging their horses, too. I have to go do more reading now.

Photo Phun!

One of the murals in the tunnels... It's funnier if you watch Buffy.

Well, it's a beautiful day in the neighbourhood, and it's Health Day for Jessica. So far I've had a doctor's appointment, I've been to the pharmacy, and I've gone to see the counsellor. It's good stuff. I'm really tired (I have a feeling this will be a common refrain on this site, seeing as it's about My University Experience).

Actually, I'm really too tired to say anything constructive or at all entertaining. So away I go. Hopefully I will be in some condition to divert you all again soon, O loyal readership. Farewell!

Mail call

Snail mail is ever so much better than e-mail. There's something very satisfying about ripping open a letter. And I have had letters from so many people! From my Albertan family, from Grandma, from Auntie Moyra, from the political campaign I did a bit of work for, from various MLAs on my participation in the Summer Games ("Please know that your skill, commitment, and sportsmanship..."). It's delightful. I'm pathetically glad to have mail, actually. Sometimes it feels a bit lonely here. I said a few days ago that I felt a bit lonely and that people here don't seem as interesting as they do back home. It's probably just due to the independent style of living -- if you live sort of on your own, you're going to be on your own more -- and the fact that I haven't really had a chance to make a family yet. Everyone's getting along pretty well, though. I am cordially invited to go out to a strip club in Hull Friday night, but have serious doubts that I will go, because:

1. I am underage, even in Quebec, which wouldn't be a problem if not for

2. I don't have a fake ID, nor do I have faith in my ability to dress like somebody who's reached the age of majority. And besides,

3. It's a strip club. For heaven's sake, people, I have 60 pages of Plato to read by Monday. Fun is for people who don't know the joys of Greek dialogue.

It is rather tempting to simply go off the deep end and pick up various substance abuse habits, but I am discovering that I have quite puritanical instincts, applied to myself if not to others. I am very, very frightened of doing anything stupid. I know that one has to let loose every so often, and while there seem to be about 19 500 serious partiers and 500 serious students in the undergrad corps (or, on Sunday mornings, corpse), I am sure that not everyone needs to validate their existence by getting absolutely blasted each weekend. This is, after all, a very serious undertaking and I have prohibitive amounts of reading to do. Trust that I will give ample notice if I decide to abandon all the morals I am developing. Well, perhaps not ample, but you will at least know what's going on if you start getting e-mails full of gross misspellings ("High, guyes! How r ewe doing?!11!!? im havin liek, the most funn EVER!").

Ethnic update: There is another Armenian descendant on my floor! Her name is Sara, and her surname ends in "jian", so I asked her whether that meant what I thought it did. She was very excited that I actually know Armenia exists. She says most people don't -- for shame!

But I must go read chapter ten of Whittington and Williams' scintillating work, Canadian Politics in the 21st Century. I hope everyone's doing well and taking care of themselves.

Nemo saltat sobrius

Sunday evening and Monday afternoon I got two batches of terrible news from home. They added up to this: Two of my friends are dead.

There are no pretty words. They have not passed on, the final curtain has not gone down, they have not shuffled anything off, they are just dead. And they shouldn't be. I know how it looks. Four teenagers in a car, coming home from a last camping trip Labour Day weekend, swerve into an oncoming van. But they weren't drunk. Two girls and a boy died, one girl got out with only bruises, physically. They weren't doing anything wrong... I don't think they ever did anything wrong. I want to explain these people to whoever's reading, as I knew them.

There was Amanda, who I didn't know.

There was Stephanie, who I knew from when we were both in grade five, proud and nervous to be starting Honour Choir. She has a cheerful face and a sweet smile. Her website entries are all extraordinary; she liked to post photos of herself, her friends, and other subjects, all full of charm and vivacity, always accompanied by captions that may have been spur-of-the-moment but were always perfect. She listened to Josh Groban and Switchfoot and was going to Capernwray Bible School in England -- she started a countdown (on her website, naturally) to when she would leave. Steph was the one I never paid as much attention as her merits warranted. It's absolutely useless to say it, but I wish we'd been closer.

There was Luke, who is so difficult to talk about. Luke was full of sunshine. I only met him in October, at a surprise birthday party for the fourth girl, the one who got out alive, but meeting the famous Luke was a highlight of the evening. We played a board game called Cranium, and we both got very excited over the word puzzles. He was very smart, a National Scholar in biology, but Becca and I agreed today that he never used his intelligence to make anybody else feel stupid. In eleven months of knowing him, I got to feel like we'd been friends forever. It always made him so worried when any of his friends fought. We were always happy when Luke was around. He understood what was important -- not petty grievances, not small grudges, just the simple divine fact of being friends. We were all looking foward to being his friends for the rest of our lives.

And now we'll never see them again, not in this life. And how can we continue? James Boswell wrote that nemo saltat sobrius, "sober men don't dance". In a frightening, uncaring, and insecure world, we cannot do anything but fight for every bit of happiness we can find. Last night the campus pub was doing an 80s night, all-ages, playing all kinds of good old bad songs. Everyone was dancing around madly, reminding me of all the times we put on good old bad songs in Laura's basement and did the same. I did Luke's trademark Elbow Dance at the edge of a crowd of strangers. I ignored any funny looks I got, because anyone who can't deal with the Elbow Dance doesn't deserve to know even a secondhand version of the person who invented it. If they taught me anything, it was that we have to squeeze all the joy we can from our existence, whether it's in year-long countdowns to a departure, or in tablecloth sledding, or delinquent pebble messages on driveways, or in the Elbow Dance.

So last night, I went out and danced for them. Luke and Steph would want me to be happy, so I tried.

Waiting

I am in my dorm room! It's very exciting. At present I have the place to myself, as my roomie has gone off to see Niagara Falls (the happy consequence of this is that I can listen to Marvin Gaye at ten a.m. without worrying about bothering anybody). Her name is Indra and she's from Mongolia, but has spent three years going to school in Brussels. Mum is getting nervous about not knowing anything about Mongolia. The only thing I know about Mongolia is that they have the Gobi Desert and throat-singing, which sounds quite different from Inuit throat-singing. It's very cool, but I don't think I'd like to listen to it all the time. I didn't get at all what I wanted in my residence room, but I don't mind much. I asked for a single room and got a double, asked for a co-ed floor and got an all-girls floor with lots of international students (which will probably be really cool), asked for my friend Jessica Yates as a roomie and got Indra from Mongolia. But it's going to be fun anyway. And besides, if I'd gotten Jessica I would have to consider her musical taste and not play Motown early-ish in the morning. Mum and Dad and Elise left about an hour ago to drive back home. I'm very, very, very glad I don't have to do that drive again. It wasn't bad the first time, but the return trip they'll just be seeing the same landscapes in reverse. So, if they're reading this on the road, best of luck to them! A while ago I had a scary moment, and an introduction to the university modus operandi. Our rez fellow, Maria, (the rez fellow is the social organizer and den mother for the floor of your residence building) told us we'd all be going to breakfast together about eight-thirty. I woke up about seven-fifteen to see the family off and get myself put together for the day, only to discover that by eight-forty there was no sign of life from all of the rooms except about three. I thought everyone had left without me, but upon arrival at the cafeteria I discovered that it seemed to be closed. On my disheartened way back to my dorm, I met with Maria, who said that nobody was up yet. I see. So I haven't been abandoned, I'm just a freakishly early riser for residence. To do: Get my long distance coverage (at present I can receive but not make long distance calls), finish buying my textbooks, do some fun stuff for Orientation week, buy a couple of baskets or bins for the room, and make friends.

Home away from home

Move-in day for residence is tomorrow! Very exciting stuff, indeed. I still don't know who my roomie is going to be, but there is a girl I know who is going to the same school and living in res. We requested each other as roomies, but we don't know whether we'll actually get each other. Our trip to Ontario has been lots of fun. More on that later-- I'm on something of an expensive Internet connection right now, but I'm planning on putting up a good long post once I get set up.