The Princess and the Frog

I was skeptical about Disney's latest attempt to recreate an animated classic. Not just because they usually fail to quite capture the original attraction of the earlier animated features when they attempt to recreate them, but for one because The Princess and the Frog takes place in a somewhat alternate-universe, fairly sugar-coated version of historical New Orleans. I'll also admit to some skepticism because of the politically correct nature of having the requisite black Disney Princess. They've covered Native American, Asian, and Middle Eastern, as well as a redhead, a brunette, a blonde and Snow White (who is not brunette because her hair is black). Darnit, missed a nationality, gonna have to do a movie now!

However, it was fairly true to the traditions of Disney Princess movies, which I appreciated, and the songs were well-done and catchy. At one point I thought they were going to go for a Shrek ending, which would have surprised me, but they played it pretty safe. They had one of the good characters die, which did surprise me. I couldn't think of another Princess movie in which someone dies partway through. Am I just missing something? Anyway, there's a reason The Princess and the Frog is a critic's darling, it just took the Disney Princess formula (prince + girl + adapted classic fairy tale and etc) and repeated it.

I was not a fan of the villain. This may be historically accurate as far as New Orleans goes, but he was a guy practicing voodoo with 'friends on the other side' and that was iffy, for young children especially. There were voodoo dolls dancing during some of his songs, and some fairly scary-looking talking masks. I would have been slightly more comfortable with it if the voodoo had been portrayed as entirely bad, but there's another character who seems to be a voodoo woman and is portrayed as being kind, if a little eccentric. If I'd had my two- or three- or four-year-old there, I would have been covering their eyes.

Morals-wise, I think the prevailing messages were well-chosen, that what you want is different from what you need, and that money can't buy everything. Tiana (the main character) works very hard, but misses out on some fun things and almost misses out on love. We focus so much on money, especially in first-world countries, that it needs to be said.

I'd probably be bored if I sat through it again, but The Princess and the Frog is a decent addition to the Disney Princess franchise. They could have done a lot worse.

Global warming plz and thnx?

Extreme wind chills this weekend. This is a warning that extreme wind chill conditions are imminent or occurring in these regions. Monitor weather conditions. Listen for updated statements.
Bitterly cold Arctic air has settled over Northern Alberta. Cold temperatures combined with brisk northwest winds will produce wind chill values as cold as minus 50. Conditions will gradually improve Saturday morning in the Edmonton, Grande Prairie and Peace River regions as winds diminish under a cold Arctic ridge. Eastern Alberta may see wind chill values below minus 40 throughout the weekend. Temperatures will remain well below normal this weekend across Northern Alberta. At these extreme wind chill values frostbite on exposed skin may occur in less than 5 minutes.

Brisk. That's what we call it here. 'Brisk northwest winds.' Oh, and also, see how it says conditions will improve this morning as the 'brisk winds' diminish under a 'cold Arctic ridge'? Does 'brisk' > 'cold'?

It's the kind of weather you wait for so that you can wear your scarf and hat and mittens that all match. Or maybe I'm the only one who does that.

No using Google!

Christmas Quiz

1. CHRISTMAS MUSIC: Name a Christmas carol whose tune is attributed to George Frideric Handel.


2. CHRISTMAS SPORTS: What NHL teams are playing on December 25, 2009?


3. CHRISTMAS LITERATURE: Circle the name Charles Dickens did NOT consider for the character Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol: Little Larry, Wee Will, Puny Pete, Small Sam.


4. CHRISTMAS FOOD: What is the most common candy decoration seen on a gingerbread man? (Hint: think Shrek.)


5. CHRISTMAS HISTORY: Explain why December 26 is called Boxing Day.


6. CHRISTMAS MOVIES: In Miracle on 34th Street, an old man claiming to be Santa Claus goes by what name? (Hint: Both first and last name begin with the letter K.)


7. CHRISTMAS SCRIPTURE: Fill in the blanks: "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him ________, which means, "___ ___ ___.”


8. CHRISTMAS MYTHOLOGY: Give as many alternate names for Santa Claus as possible.


9. CHRISTMAS FLORA: Poinsettias are poisonous – circle TRUE or FALSE.


10. CHRISTMAS FAUNA: Name all nine of Santa’s reindeer. (Bonus point if you can list them in the same order as in T’was the Night Before Christmas.)


11. CHRISTMAS SYMBOLS: Give the names of the five Advent Candles. (Bonus point if they’re in order.)


12. BONUS: Name all the gifts given in the carol The 12 Days of Christmas, and add up all the gifts mentioned to give the total.

See how you do. My youth group did decently, and I thought I made it pretty hard.

We're insane.

climategate |ˈklīmitgāt|
noun

An incident in which emails between staff at the Climatic Research Unit at Britain's University of East Anglia were hacked and posted on the internet. Communication contained in these emails seemed to indicate abuse of temperature data to create an artificial semblance of rising global temperatures. Widespread blogger hue and cry ensued, and a suspicious lack of coverage by the mainstream media. Climategate could prove the undoing of these so-called scientists.

Can we plz stop spending government money on fake climate change nao?

The economy has been in a slump for the last year or so, the US government is billions of dollars in debt, and money is being spent on changing a climate that, even if it WERE changing, has never been changed by human intervention before.

This is so ridiculous that I feel it needs to be shared.

Okay. So some background, first.

Today I'm at the downtown library, Stanley A Milner, for a course that supposedly relates to helping me do my job better. *cough*. So far my favorite part has been the website scavenger hunt that the Youth Services Librarian had us do to familiarize ourselves with the Kids section of the site. I pwned. For the rest of it, I've been a little zoned out.

Also what's boiling around in the back of my head right now is the craziness that is today. See, this is what's happening: I got to the bus transit centre at about 8:15 this morning (my dad dropped me off) and took an express bus downtown at 8:27(obsessively poring over a map of the route the whole way so that I'd know what stop to get off at) to be at the library for shortly before 9. Once I got here, I kinda paced the lobby a couple times smacking myself over the head for not remembering that I'm here for NINE o'clock and the library doesn't OPEN until TEN, so now I have to find a way to get to where I need to be. A few staircases and a helpful security lady later, I found the room, and proceeded to wander around looking for the seat that was marked for me, only to realize there wasn't one because you're supposed to make your own place tag.

I'm smart. Really.

Anyway, when I'm done here (which is actually at 4:15 not 5 like they said, so that's another 45 minutes to kill) I'm bussing to the mall where I'm meeting a friend and we're doing dinner/shopping, and then she's driving us to Segue. (Young adult Bible study.) So basically, I left the house at 8:15 am and I won't be home until 10-ish pm. Fun.

So after the name tag thing I got coffee and a muffin and sat down to listen to people talk. (I was also a rebellious teenager and texted a tiny bit while they were talking, and I have a feeling the one lady knew I was.)

Oh oh oh, and tangent. See, I've heard that when you go downtown it's good to dress up, so I was hyperventilating about dressing up and had this whole getup with a skirt (!) planned and then tried it on the night before and decided (with some help) that I looked ten years older than I was and that I was trying too hard.

So I left the house this morning in jeans (dark boot-cut jeans, mind you) and a short-sleeved blazer, and my comfy work shoes. Which are a bit fashionable, they're not runners, but they're not exactly business formal. So I already felt a bit like a rebel.

And now it's lunch, and here's where the ridiculous part comes in.

I have a book signed out. It's been hanging out in my purse. What I didn't know when I signed it out is that there are two ways to sign out a book: either you sign it out so that the sensors at the library exits won't beep when you take it out, or you sign it out so that they do. I'm pretty sure the sensors are going to beep.

So I happily take this book downtown, and because I got in by such a roundabout way coming here, there was never a sensor to go over. But I just about walked outside to go to Second Cup, and then came to the sinking realization that this book in my purse is going to beep, and what do I do?

And the reason it's ridiculous is because I'm too embarassed to go to the desk and say, "Um, I signed this out wrong, can you sign it out right so that I don't beep? K'thnx." And the options I'm currently considering are A) trying to leave the way I came in, sans sensors, or B) leaving the book here, where it'll be returned, and putting a hold on it again so that it'll come to my branch. (I checked the system - 4 copies available, no holds. Should come by, like, tomorrow.)

Oh, and I also thought of going to the self-checkout and checking it out a SECOND time, but the machine will probably get confused and, like, explode.

Normally I really like technology.

EDIT: I went to the desk and kinda stammered out my problem and she gave me a look and signed it out properly and I went on my way. Yay me.

My Testimony

I was baptized today (see believer's baptism from Wikipedia, different from infant baptism) and this is my testimony. (What I said before he dunked me.)

I became a Christian when I was seven. We were eating dinner at the kitchen table and my dad was explaining what this ‘becoming a Christian’ thing was. At the time, in my head, it was obvious that this was a good thing to do. I wanted to go heaven, and this was how you got there. Sounds good. I remember my mom crying after we’d prayed, and it making me feel weird. I can’t remember if I said this or thought it, but my sentiment was, “Yeesh, mom, it’s no big deal.”

From there, age 7, my spiritual growth and my relationship with God have been one very gradual progression. I can’t point to one single ‘eureka’ moment. Through my teenage years, I’ve struggled with a lot of things. I used to lie a lot to make myself look better and to disguise wrong things I was doing. I still struggle with dishonesty sometimes. I was and am a very selfish, prideful person, and I’ve always tried really hard to be that girl who has it all together and who has no issues, no problems. I’ve also struggled with insecurity, and I still worry too much about what people will think of me. But the feeling that sticks with me most strongly from my teenage years is one of spiritual inadequacy. I have always had this sensation that everyone else has something I don’t, everyone else has better faith than me, everyone else can somehow sense God and I can’t.

I’ve learned a lot of things just in the last couple of weeks, through preparing for baptism and writing this testimony. I’ve learned that faith is not a feeling, and God’s presence does not need to be ‘felt’ to be a reality. God isn’t asking me to be ‘spiritually adequate’ and he isn’t asking me to emulate anyone but Jesus. I don’t need to be anyone but who I am for God.

I have a really long way to go. I don’t have it all together. In one sense, I will never have it all together. I will never be good enough. But in the sense that matters, I don’t have to be good enough. I’m not standing here because I’m good enough. I’m standing here because I believe that God is God and that Jesus died for me, not because I was anything worth dying for but because he loved me.
In a lot of ways I feel like my faith is still new, because I didn’t go very deep, for a long time. I want to be closer to God and I want to feel his presence, and that’s where I’m going. I’m not there yet, but with His help, I will be.
My faith is a big deal. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, since age 7, it’s that.

Lastly, I can’t pinpoint a specific Bible verse that has been thematic in my life, but one that has brought me the most comfort in the last little while has been Hebrews 13:5, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” It drives home the reality that God’s presence just IS. I don’t have to feel it for it to be real, and I don’t have to be faithful or spiritually adequate or ‘good enough’. God is always with me.

Easier Than Love - Switchfoot

I have not been able to get this song out of my head for a couple days now.

[Shortened because of some unneeded repetition of lyrics]

Sex is currency
She sells cars,
She sells magazines
Addictive bittersweet, clap your hands,
with the hopeless nicotines

Everyone's a lost romantic,
Since our love became a kissing show
Everyone's a Casanova,
Come and pass me the mistletoe

Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone

She is easier than love
Is easier than life
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe
It's easier to leave
It's easier to lie
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?

Where is my soul?

Sex is industry,
The CEO, of corporate policy
Skin-deep ministry,
Suburban youth, hail your so-called liberty

Every advertising antic,
Our banner waves with a neon glow
War and love become pedantic,
We wage love with a mistletoe

Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone

She is easier than love
Is easier than life
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe
It's easier to leave
It's easier to lie
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?

Where is my soul?

It's easier than love
It's easier than love
It's easier than love
It's easier than love
She is easier than love
It's easier than love

Everyone's been scared to death of,
Everyone's been scared to death of,
Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone,
alone

Sex is easier than love,
It's easier than love,
It's easier to fake and smile and brag

It's easier to leave,
It's easier to lie,
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?

Where is my soul?

Switchfoot does the social commentary stuff really well. I don't why this song in particular kind of haunts me. It's true, definitely, but didn't I know it was true already? We do what's easy, and it doesn't matter if it's wrong, and at the heart of what we do is fear, as they put it, 'of dying here alone'.

Currently the banner on the screen of my cell phone says 'Love', and it was mostly because I wanted something inspirational and it was the only thing short enough that I could think of at the time (that was also the point at which I had 1 Corinthians 13:1 in my MSN status) but I'm kind of glad I have it. It's a good reminder.

Turn off the music

I need to get this all out before I forget any of it.

Our university intern was leading youth Bible study tonight, and I felt it was a truly remarkable evening, so I'm going to try to recreate it somewhat from my notes. Our topic since the beginning of the year has been Pursuing God, so tonight he kind of turned it on its head and talked about God pursuing us.

From Psalm 139:

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!

18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you.

So, three things from that:

1 - God knows who we are
2 - God never leaves us
3 - God loves us

On 1 - the writer of Psalm 139, King David, was not a perfect guy. He lusted after another man's wife, got her pregnant, and killed her husband. He also let the rape of one of his daughters (by one of his sons) go unpunished. And yet he is still called 'a man after God's own heart'. The point of point 1 is that God knows who we are. God know the dirty thoughts we think and the stupid things we say and the petty emotions we have and the pointless worldly things that we feel are so important. God knows who we are better than WE know who we are. This is a tangent, but I have long felt that true telepathy, which is often featured in fantasy novels, would be a completely awful thing to have. Can you imagine seeing the depths of someone else's mind? Some pretty icky fantasies go on there, and some cruel, selfish thoughts. There's a reason our thoughts are private, and it's because no one but God would love us if they knew them. God KNOWS. It doesn't matter who you are, Christian or non.

Further on point 1, God knows who we are AND he created us. He created us with every 'imperfection' that we see when we look in a mirror. Our intern (won't use his name) mentioned a personal story about a struggle of his with a sickness that he was very angry at God for giving him, and then he talked about how it had turned out to be a blessing in his life. God gave us who we are and loves who we are.

Point 2 - God never leaves us. This ties in with point 1 in that God knows our thoughts no matter where we are, physically, mentally, anything. The only time that someone has ever been TRULY separated from God is when Jesus became sin for us and died. He was separated so that we don't have to be. I am realizing increasingly that God's presence, God's love, is not a feeling. You don't have to feel a spiritual high (I am on one now) to know that God is with you. He just is. Emotions have nothing to do with it. You don't need a supernatural voice speaking in your ear to claim with all certainty, "God is with me." Hebrews 13:5 - "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

Point 3 is pretty simple. God loves us. Or not simple, as the case may be. Would you love you, if you saw EVERYTHING about yourself in someone else? Would you love you if you saw all those icky things AND you yourself, looking at your icky self (this is getting confusing, sorry) were perfect? No, duh. God does not expect things. God does not set conditions. Christianity is not a set of rules to follow. Christianity is God's love, through Christ. It's love. Blessed by that kind of unconditional, forever LOVE, what is KEEPING you from living a life that is as Christlike as you, humanly and imperfectly, are able? As you are able, with Christ living in you? Romans 6:1 - "What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?" Again - no, duh. Yes, we have eternal grace, yes, our past and present and future sins were and are and will be forgiven. So what, we're going to abuse that and claim that since we have a free ride anyway, might as well take God at his word and do whatever our ephemeral passions say to do? That's some kind of appreciation for boundless love. NOT.

That was a tangent too. Anyway, I am astounded. And blessed, unbelievably blessed, to be able to claim that for my own.

Another thing that I took from tonight was an enormous sense of peace. God made me and knows me and is always with me, so what do I have to worry about? Nothing! If God wants me to be at university, I will BE there. Regardless of money, of time, of my own insecurities. God knows where I'm going and how I'm getting there. It's far less important that I know than that He knows. Mind you, this is very hard to live out, but not impossible.

A last facet that we explored as a group was the need to be real with each other. We can't encourage each other if we're constantly met with the by-rote answer 'good' to 'How are you?' If you have issues, don't bury them all the time. You do yourself more harm than good by putting on the happy face and pretending everything's okay. Society tells us to do this, and too often we listen. Too often I myself am that happy person who's afraid that if I show what I'm really feeling, people will look at me and be disappointed or think I'm a failure or what have you. Be real. Don't let everything stay in the dark until it turns into something far larger and scarier than it ever needed to be.

I think it's all off my chest. I know that was rambly. I admire you a lot if you read it all and got this far.

*deep breath*

Amen.

Tiny catastrophes; tiny victories

Catastrophe: A button popped off my new cardigan the first day I wore it.

Catastrophe: Seems they won't schedule me off the afternoons I need at work.

Catastrophe: There were chips, saved for me, on top of the fridge, but no one told me that there was dip, too, before I ate them.

Victory: I was asked to babysit Sunday night and I said no. (Applause please!)

Victory: They asked me to work an evening shift tonight and I said no AGAIN.

Victory: My mom found an extra button sewn onto the label.

Victory: I bought some more chips to go with the dip.

Victory: I'm working two hours on Saturdays at job #2 (mini-update, forgot to blog about that: I'm working with an autistic boy, a maximum of 10 hours a week) which solves the afternoon problem a bit.

Catastrophe: Fringe isn't on on Thursday.

Victory: The Office is.

Not all news is equal -

- some of it is President Approved.

This reeks. At least now I know who NOT to read.

In Which I Make My Opinion Known

A few days ago, I sent this complaint to the administrators of the Young Greens web site:

To those responsible for this ad campaign to the Young Greens:

As a young voter (I am 18) I do not appreciate this attempt to belittle my parents and the parents of this generation. The implication that they are wasteful is offensive, and the claim that they 'fucked up' our planet misguided and untrue. Blaming problems with the environment (which, I might add, are grossly exaggerated by the mainstream media and amount to an insipid attempt to make people feel good about themselves for being 'green') on our parents' generation has nothing to do with the environment. It attacks family unity and makes light of the innumerable sacrifices our parents have made for us. Even now, many of us who are university students are completely dependent on our parents' generosity for our continuing education.

In the next federal election, I will be voting for Stephen Harper's Conservatives. 

Today, they sent this response, and this one.

Basically, they amounted to "you're wrong about this, this and this, and we don't care if you think we're offensive." Boy, do I ever feel like a valued youth member of society for making my opinion known. However, I would like to address a few of their claims.

From the site response:

The arctic ocean is currently warmer than it has been in the last two thousand years and will be free of ice in our lifetime.

We have no records of the temperature of the arctic ocean farther back than about the last century. It may well have been warmer at some point than it is now. Also, there is no way of knowing until it IS free of ice that it will be free of ice in our lifetime. I don't care what computer model you use. Nothing, outside of the divine and miraculous, can predict the future with 100% accuracy.

Canadian leaders, including the Prime Minister, make no apologies for declining to even attend major international climate talks.

Some Canadian leaders are intelligent enough to realize that they have more important things to be doing than freaking out over something like the weather. Climate change must be second to issues like poverty and terrorism. The bottom line is that we are discussing the WEATHER here.

Youth unemployment in Canada is at a 30-year high.

Unless I'm mistaken, ALL unemployment in Canada is at a high right now.

Annual global military expenditure reached over $1.46 trillion in 2008 while nearly half of the world’s 2.2 billion children live in poverty.

I am borderline offended by this. Why is money spent on the military automatically BAD money? Why is it somehow a bad thing to want a force to defend ourselves against aggression, should the need arise? Also, do the millions of dollars in relief sent to those children living in poverty, much of it not through taxes but through donations out of personal earnings, not COUNT? I am a young adult saving for university and I still give money to support a little girl in South America through Compassion Canada. I'm not the only one.

In Ontario alone, tuition fees have jumped by over 200% since 1990.

And inflation has happened and I fail to see how this is an issue...?

And from Elizabeth May's blog:

I am a parent and a grandparent. I do not take their slogan personally. The real obscenity is that so many in leadership are prepared to ignore the climate crisis, and ignore the compelling warnings of science that this crisis threatens our very civilization.

I've heard these 'compelling warnings of science' and I have heard rebuttals against them. Again, there is no way of knowing that this is a climate crisis. This earth has been around for a long time and we have records of temperature for a tiny fraction of that time. There are larger crises 'threatening our civilization'. For example, the USA is currently the ONLY Western and first-world country maintaining a birth rate that will keep its population constant. Countries like Canada, as well as nearly all European nations, have national birth rates so low that it is ECONOMICALLY IMPOSSIBLE for us to recover. That's a crisis. Warm weather is not.

Five short attention spans later...

Obsessed, you say?

[click for full image]

I am a little obsessed, yes

[click for full image]

The Pseudo-Nerd

pseudo-nerd |ˈsoōdō nərd|
noun informal
- an insecure individual searching for self-identity by adopting a label to which they conform very loosely : the teenage pseudo-nerd babbled about Harry Potter.
- one who wishes to attract the attention of the nerd population by copying their superficial mannerisms.

There is an unfortunate trend in current teenage society toward the school of thought that nerdiness is cool. This makes very little sense, because by definition nerdiness is thought of as a label for weird people. Its synonyms are bore, dork, dweeb, nimrod, geek, drip, loser, and (*snicker*) techie. Put succinctly: You cannot be cool and nerdy at the same time.

I have dubbed this phenomenon the pseudo-nerd. Here follows a list of criteria for the purposes of distinguishing the pseudo-nerd from the true nerd.

- Nerds slip casual references to things in the realm of nerd-dom into conversations to see if anyone reacts. This: "Ooh, +2 to Sneak Attack"; not this: "OMG YOU SHOULD PLAY DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS."

- At least half of the music on a nerd's iPod is from movie soundtracks, and when asked, they can identify a favorite composer. (Hans Zimmer FTW.)

- Nerds use words like 'facetious', 'surreptitious' and 'plebeian' in casual conversation with perfect ease, not out of a desire to draw attention to themselves but because they feel such a word is appropriate. They will also combine these with expressions like FTW (for the win) and w00t.

- Nerds own t-shirts with things like Einstein's Theory of Relativity emblazoned on them. Or, alternatively, "I prepared Explosive Runes this morning."

- Nerds do not curse conventionally. Instead, they say things like, 'curse it', 'blood and ashes', or 'by the seventh level of the underworld!'

- You will come across the occasional nerd who can solve a Rubik's Cube in sixty seconds flat with their eyes closed. (I know one of these.)

- Nerds, when conversing with their fellow nerds, can often be highly confusing in the way they address each other. This is due to the fact that most nerds have two names, real-life and internet, and they respond with equal alacrity to both.

- 'Fantasy author' is a synonym for nerd.

- Nerds bake cakes on September 22. (If you don't know why, you're either a pseudo-nerd or a non-nerd.)

There's even a test!

(Fankoo potr for helping.)

Found it

Only two days late after all.

Apologies for the lack of Starbucks picture; I forgot my camera. It's generally instrumental in the taking of pictures.

Finished Rebel Angels. I'll probably go on to read the third book in the series, but I've found them a bit unremarkable in general. It's a boarding-school fantasy involving a heroine with innate magical ability, some wailing over arranged marriages, and the usual headstrong characters with feminist tendencies. Easy to read, but the characters don't get much development and the plot doesn't offer many surprises.

On that note--plot surprises--this is a shameless plug! Fringe succeeds masterfully at NEVER being predictable. Thursdays at 10 pm MST!

What I Was Humming Today

12:30 pm - The Super Mario theme
3 pm - Rondo Alla Turka (Mozart)
4:30 pm - Stars by Switchfoot

I'm anticipating some thinly veiled hints soon, so...

Um, and also, this is the first time I've been late with a header. I vewy sowwy. I thought I had a Feet of Shadows fall header hanging around somewhere, but a few searches of my computer with the key words 'fall' and 'feetofshadows' reveal nothing.

I'm a bit too lazy right now for philosophical ramblings, so this post falls into the category of An Update on My Life. What am I currently up to?

A) I'm working. At the library. This has required the purchase of some comfy but NOT CHEAP shoes. I'm still recovering from the effects of spending that much money on shoes at one time.

B) I'm hanging out on the Starbucks patio when on lunch breaks at work, sometimes nursing a fancy coffee drink (I allow myself to actually buy something once a week) and sometimes just loitering with a book. Tomorrow, this week's designated Starbucks Day, I plan to start officially documenting my visits with a picture. Then, ideally, I can blog a weekly Starbucks Picture so that you may all observe the variance of the weather, my drinks, and the weight of the jacket I'm wearing. I know, fascinating, right?

C) I'm yelling my plot opinions at the TV. The season premieres of several shows I like were on this week and last, including Fringe (I've added a Fringe blog to the sidebar), Bones and NCIS. During Fringe and NCIS I took to shrieking, "She's not dead!" and, in both cases, she wasn't. Hah.

D) I'm serving as an Apprentice (my own name) at youth group, since I'm too old to attend now but they do need leaders. Apprentice = junior leader. It's been a little weird so far to shift from being a youth to a leader, but I'm trusting that in time it'll feel a bit more natural.

E) I'm churning through books. Lately I've read Sunshine by Robin McKinley (in brief: PWNS Twilight as far as vampire books go. I love McKinley's writing style to pieces. There was one bit of a scene that was rather TMI as far as I'm concerned, but that's about the book's only offense), A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray (a bit unremarkable except for the author's present-tense style), and Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer (and it almost killed me). I'm in the process of reading Rebel Angels by Libba Bray, Night Watch by Sergei Lukyanenko, and Living the Cross-Centered Life by C.J. Mahaney. (EDIT: And Outlaws of Sherwood by Robin McKinley. As of today.)

F) Lastly, I'm tentatively starting a second part-time job sometime fairly soon. Watch for more about that in the future.

Another feature I may start incorporating is What Was Melda Humming Today? because the variance of songs that play in my head while I'm at work is astounding. I think that if I started keeping a list it might be amusing. Watch for that too.

September 11

I like to avoid the peace symbol. On bags, t-shirts, whatever. (Though to be entirely fair, I have a pair of boots that have some cross between a peace sign and a heart on them as a pattern.) It's not that I'm anti-peace. It's more that I am not pro-peace-at-all-costs.

Pacifism would be okay if the world was perfect. It's not. It's all very well to be committed to peace personally, but if the guy on the other side isn't, all your commitment to peace is going to get you is a black eye and some missing teeth.

I support America in continuing to fight a war against the terrorists who gave it a lot more than a black eye on September 11, 2001. I support a war that protects freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and justice.

I'm not pro-war. But I believe that there are things in this world that are worth fighting for. So did every American and Canadian soldier that has died so far, protecting their country and believing that every human being deserves the same rights we are blessed with. They died because they believed that. I don't know if I would have the same courage.

I stand behind the soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq - may their courage prevent September 11 from happening again, and may Americans (and Canadians) never surrender freedom because they want peace.

On Being A Student Page

On Thursday the manager of the branch of the library at which I work whisked me into her office to push the doors shut and say, "Amy, I'm very pleased to be able to offer you a position as adult page."

And I grinned (very wide) and said, "I accept."

So I start on the 31st, and I will no longer be one of the 'kids'. For the most part, I'm happy about this. My pay goes up by half again, and I get to keep working in a place I know and like.

Back in December, I was working on an essay for my English course, and the phone rang. Normally when the phone rings at our house, someone contemplates the display and shouts one of three things:

"Ben, it's Cole."

"1-800/Ontario/Washington! Don't answer it!"

"Mom, should I pick this up?"

However, only two of us were home, and we both ignored the phone, because it is bothersome and intrusive and I am an introvert. (See below. I like written communication.) I went up to check the messages a second later, though, and it was someone from the Mill Woods library wanting to know if I wanted to come in for an interview.

!!!

So I did a happy dance, made happier by four applications for the job and eight months of waiting, and called her back right away to say YES TUESDAY AT 4 IS FINE :D

And thus began my sojourn as a student page, which will have lasted eight and a half months in total. One of the first tidbits of information I received was, "We all try to be very welcoming to the new student pages, but sometimes this scares them." Being a student page can be a bit like having fifteen aunts and an uncle or two.

The first shelving truck I did took me a while, and I did it in the company of other pages chatting it up with one another and going a lot faster than I was. Since then, though, I've learned some things:

- The worst type of inquiry from a patron is, "Your site says you have this book, but I can't find it on the shelf."

- From 637 (dogs) to 782 (music) is the section most likely to take the longest to clean.

- We have many books on knitting.

- Wear comfortable shoes to work.

- Almost no one likes shelf-reading, and I'm a weirdo for enjoying it.

- Don't weed according to date unless someone tells you to.

- The Teen section is the worst place for girls in very skinny jeans and guys with piercings to be sucking each other's faces off.

- "Ask them at the info desk" is the answer to all questions, including, "Where are your books on fly fishing?" and "What is the meaning of life?"

- To shelve a DVD truck is to risk being mobbed.

- There's always at least one rogue computer chair.

Thus is the wisdom I will be imparting to my replacement.

Reflections on Texas

I remember when my mom was pregnant with my littlest sister, she composed an email to our extended family to tell them the news, with the subject, 'The Beauty of Written Communication'. She doesn't remember this, I don't think, but for some reason I recall it quite distinctly.

It's fair to say that I like written communication. I prefer email to phone, and I spend a lot of time on MSN. Written communication is my thing. I think that nothing illustrates the power of it like August 14-18.

I really like the saying that friendship is when someone knows all about you but likes you anyway. It's easy to laugh at, but it's true. In two and a half years of MSN conversations, you learn a lot about each other. You can't just discuss the weather over and over again. It's not as though we have deep philosophical discussions every time we talk, but it's impossible not to learn things. It's surprisingly hard to hide who you are, even over the internet, and even just with written communication.

I think I expected our first meeting to be a little bit awkward. I was reasonably sure it wouldn't be TOO awkward, but I was surprised when it wasn't awkward or weird in the least. It was like we'd always been able to hang out like we did, and to a certain extent, we had always been able to. All we lacked was the bonus of being face-to-face.

I'm pretty awed by this.

In case you couldn't extrapolate from the above, I had a phenomenal time. It's been hard to come up with the words to describe it (and I don't think I've succeeded very well). Two and a half years of talking almost every day made meeting feel pretty normal.

Texas and Alberta are way too far apart.

Just In Case: The Texas Packing Method

Two whole copies of my flight itinerary, just in case some kind of paper-eating bird happens to snatch the first out of my hands.

Two hoodies, just in case of one of those freak snowstorms Texas always gets in August.

Five pairs of socks, just in case 37 C leaves my feet cold.

Two pairs of flip-flops, just in case the first ones break.

Two laptop batteries, just in case one goes on the fritz.

Two laptop cords, just in case the same.

Four books, just in case I develop super speed-reading mind powers.

Top and toothbrush in my purse, just in case they send my luggage to Tokyo.

...and a teddy bear, because I'm not THAT much of an adult. Just in case.

On Being Eighteen

You kind of get friendly with an age. I remember wanting to be thirteen pretty badly, but since then birthdays have come with a feeling of, 'Oh, I have to say goodbye to this age now?' It got comfy to say 'fourteen' and then 'fifteen' and then 'sixteen' and then 'seventeen' and then - well, today someone at work asked me how old I was and I said, "Uhh...I'm going to be eighteen." In the weeks leading up to August 13, my age goes from being seventeen to 'almost eighteen'. Which helps the transition, I guess.

Seventeen is kind of different, though. It feels like a pretty mature age without being an adult age.

Not that there aren't perks to being eighteen. I can vote (!) and travel alone without being an 'unaccompanied minor' and drink (oh boy the excitement. [/sarcasm]) and probably other things I forget, including pay for a lot more than I did when I was seventeen. That's on top of the less material things. I'm independent, I'm an adult, and the next eight hours are my last legal childhood hours ever, which makes me sad until I smack myself for being sad that my birthday is tomorrow.

I could always say that the hours after those eight will be my first adulthood hours.

Yeah. I'm growing up.


(I needed to add an awesome quote.)
"We're all terrified of you, in reality. It's like being friends with an undomesticated cougar and sitting with your back to it."

Time + you + them = friendship

I'm going to Texas in 18 days, and I'm meeting one of my best friends face-to-face for the first time, and that is why I'm thinking about friendship.

Obviously, friendship does not require meeting face-to-face, though that's often helpful. It doesn't require money. It doesn't require work, in a material sense. Friendship requires TIME. Yes, read it, capital letters, TIME. Time spent doing nothing or something, talking or not. If you see each other's statuses on facebook once in a while and happen to coincide at events every so often, that's not friendship. Friendship is taking the time to care about someone else's life.

It works both ways, too. It's very difficult to maintain a friendship when just one person is always saying 'How are you?' and 'What's up?' and 'Let's get together'. It's a two-way street, and maintaining a friendship by yourself gets really old really fast. There IS no better way to let someone know you care about them than to say, "Hey, let's get together." Money is one thing. Money is a renewable resource. But you lose time with every second that passes, and time is finite. Let someone know that you want to spend some of your finite seconds with them or talking to them or hearing about their life.

That's why I can be so close to someone half a continent away from me.

Time.

I'm going to Texas?

If you had told me, in the winter of 2006/2007 that on August 14, 2009--the day after I turn 18--I would fly to Texas to visit pirateoftherings, I would have said, "pirateoftherings? That one in the At World's End thread with all the spoilers?" and then I would have laughed.

Actually, it's mostly her fault.

In February of 2007, I started the fantasy RPG Phantom Grey. Its beginnings were inauspicious. I got the idea from the grey paint color of my uncle's new car. I wrote a cool little intro about a mysterious rebel dude who called himself Phantom Grey--Robin-Hood-esque--and left it entirely open for people to join with their own characters.

Sometime toward the end of February, potr messaged me on MSN about Phantom Grey. She wanted to join, but she wasn't sure about a character, so I offered her the role of the character who, at that point, was the princess-in-hiding. Later, her other character, Kjan, was born. Kjan is a very singular character who lives on in fame, not least for the phrase, "This could be minorly problematic." He became the Phantom's second-in-command, and we started off with a bang.

After that conversation about Phantom, I don't think there was ever an instance where both potr and I were online in which we DIDN'T talk. Or, more correctly, in which she didn't accost me (not to say I objected). At first I think it was mostly about the RPG, but we discussed other things; we learned that we were both Christians, talked about our families, got to know each other a little better. It became a daily thing. Every evening we'd go, "So when will I see you tomorrow?"

I think it was May of 2007 when she had to go on a missions trip and wouldn't have internet access for a week. She asked if she could call instead. Melda's reaction: "Whoa talk to someone I know on the internet ON THE PHONE? WEIRD. I'll ask my mom..." We had a few phone conversations that week, which made me hyper, and continued to talk on MSN every day and occasionally call, skype, and more recently webcam. That's been going on for two and a half years now.

I have referred to 'my friend Jamie from Texas' with increasing frequency in conversation with people I know, over these last two and a half years, to the point where they still think it's odd that I'm so close to someone I've never met in the flesh, but they're good with it otherwise. As long as she's not a creepy stalker. I feel no hesitation in saying that my potr is one of my best friends. My mom thinks that if needed, she could impersonate me--the quote "You'll always be my friend--you know too much' applies. Our daily conversations have become such a staple that I occasionally refer to them as 'my potr fix' in a similar vein as 'my caffeine fix'. My mom often asks, "Are you talking to Jamie?" when I'm sitting with my laptop, and when I respond in the affirmative, she says, "I thought so. You always smile like that when you're talking to her."

As of recently, we've embarked on co-writing a novel together. It'll be called Phantom Grey, and we started it after the RPG finally died. Mostly, though, we just talk.

Melda says: (4:58:22 PM) I'm just basically disgusted with this weather
Melda says: (4:58:27 PM) I actually want to come down there :P
pirateoftherings says: (4:58:35 PM) hehe
pirateoftherings says: (4:58:37 PM) please do?
...
pirateoftherings says: (5:07:39 PM) roundtrip to DFW is only 581 Canadian dollars (A)
Melda says: (5:07:49 PM) lol
Melda says: (5:08:02 PM) pretty good price all told
pirateoftherings says: (5:08:22 PM) melda should do it
...
pirateoftherings says: (9:51:13 PM) who is melda visiting in August?
Melda says: (9:51:17 PM) wait
pirateoftherings says: (9:51:21 PM) (you're on a roll, don't break it)
Melda says: (9:51:49 PM):P
Melda says: (9:53:50 PM) melda was actually considering it
pirateoftherings says: (9:54:10 PM) she should
...
Melda says: (10:00:37 PM) well, I guess I could work library stuff out
pirateoftherings says: (10:00:58 PM) you could
pirateoftherings says: (10:01:15 PM) i have to look at my schedule too :P
pirateoftherings says: (10:01:19 PM) but at least consider
Melda says: (10:01:47 PM)yeah
Melda says: (10:01:53 PM)no idea what my parents will think :P
pirateoftherings says: (10:02:09 PM) "Hai I'm gonna go see potr for a weekend k'bai."

Yesterday:
Melda says: (4:50:47 PM) melda officially has bought tickets
pirateoftherings says: (4:56:10 PM) (aiee)
pirateoftherings says: (4:56:27 PM) :D
Melda says: (4:56:32 PM) okay, so
Melda says: (4:56:38 PM) flying with Delta
Melda says: (4:57:02 PM) leaving Edmonton at 8:00 am with a layover in Minneapolis, arriving in Dallas at 5:18 pm
pirateoftherings says: (4:57:11 PM) uh-huh
pirateoftherings says: (4:57:27 PM) feasible
pirateoftherings says: (4:57:31 PM) what's on the 18th?
Melda says: (4:57:59 PM) leaving Dallas at 5:45 with a layover in Minneapolis (again) and arriving in Edmonton at 11:31 pm

Yep. I'm going to Texas.

Of Adverbs

I am officially writing this post because I'm putting off working on my summer project - Summer Novel Writing Month (SuNoWriMo). Now you know.

Adverb - a word or phrase that modifies or qualifies an adjective, verb, or other adverb or a word-group, expressing a relation of place, time, circumstance, manner, cause, degree, etc. (e.g., gently, quite, then, there).

In creative writing, adverbs are often condemned as telling, not showing, and being a lazy way of communicating what you could better describe and give the reader a more vivid mental picture. I agree, in principle. Showing is better than telling. Can you imagine, though, if EVERYTHING were shown? If there were a scene in which the characters have to somehow manage exposition of everything going on around them? That would get really, really old. Sometimes, you just have to say Jane was angry instead of getting into Jane crinkled her brow and glared from beneath it, crossing her arms and stomping a foot at the boys who had been irritating her.

If I may quote the pirate of the rings on this...what is the purpose of a novel except to TELL a story?

Okay, fine, I'm going now. I'm opening Microsoft Word. Really.

Playing God

http://www.nationalpost.com/news/canada/story.html?id=1758391

The first thing I thought of when I read this was the movie I, Robot, about a robot who, among legions of automaton brethren, has the unique capacity to love and the ability to thwart a plot by the other robots to basically take over the world. The other robots do it because they look at what the humans have done to themselves and to each other and they conclude that humans aren't capable of managing the world themselves.

Nice thought, a robot with a heart. But really - as if.

Humans have spent thousands of years discovering ourselves, mentally and biologically. Even now, we can't explain some of the processes that go on inside us, because they are so incredibly intricate. I think this is even more pronounced with the brain - at the heart of it, we don't know how it works. If we disregard the supernatural, we don't know why we are the way we are, or how we got that way. We don't understand the soul, emotions, the way we think.

But we think we can recreate it?

Have fun with that one.

A Squabbling

Recently I joined a Christian teen writers' forum called Cleanplace (Joy will know the one) that has weekly challenges called Squabblings. This week, it was to write a 500-800 short story with the first line 'Some days it feels like the universe is conspiring against you, and some days, it really is' in 20 minutes. This isn't posted on Cleanplace yet because I'm waiting to make sure my slight edit of the first line is okay, but I rather liked it (for something written in 20 minutes), so for your reading pleasure...

---

“Some days it feels like the universe is conspiring against you,” said Captain Robert Harlem, “and some days, it really is.” He thumped his fist on the control panel to emphasize the last two words. “Look at that bugger. Now I’m going to have to go out and pry him off.”

His apprentice, Lana Mulgrave, scooted over to grab the controls. She winced at the metallic crunching noises the creature attached to their hull was making. “Let me guess. This is why we don’t take shortcuts through asteroid belts.”

“Because roidlets will attach themselves to our hull? Very good,” said Robert, fumbling his suit from its cupboard.

“I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

A particularly painful – painful to Robert’s ears – crunch crackled loudly, and he glanced through their quartz windshield. “Egad, that thing is persistent. Keep me informed, Lana. I don’t want anything biting my head off while I’m getting rid of it.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Robert snatched a crowbar and a hammer before jamming his helmet on and activating his radio. He spun the handle of the airlock, slipping out and swiftly closing it again.

Outside, the stars were as bright as ever, but they were screened by every space captain’s bane – the asteroid belt. Robert scurried along the handholds of the Firefly’s hull, and heard his radio crackle to life. “All clear, Lana?”

“Roger that, Captain.”

He was nearing the parasitic roidlet, which was happily crunching away at metal, and he hefted crowbar and hammer. Beady eyes looked balefully up at him but the creature did not release its hold on the hull for an instant. Robert imagined the mouthful of teeth grinding into his pride and joy and groaned.

“He’s a nasty one, isn’t he?” Lana sounded impressed.

Robert squinted at her through the windshield. “Roger that, apprentice, and keep your eyes ahead of you.”

The near-spherical roidlet was almost embedded in his hull already. Robert jammed the crowbar between rock and metal and banged at it with the hammer. He felt the roidlet loosen almost immediately. A few more enthusiastic swings had it free, and with one snap of razor-sharp teeth – those things had jaws that opened over a hundred and eighty degrees wide – it floated off.

“That could have been much more painful. I’m coming back in, Lana.”

“Um – nope – Captain, space snake at five o’clock. Your five o’clock!”

Robert whipped around.

The gaze of the space snake paralyzed him momentarily. He muttered an expletive.

“Captain,” said Lana reproachfully over the radio.

“I know, I know! Activate stun baton!”

It crackled on his belt and Robert snatched the weapon from its casing. The serpent wound lazily closer.

“For reference, Lana,” he said into the radio, “this is why you always perform a weapons check before venturing outside your space vehicle.”

“I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

The snake struck, nearly snagging Robert’s arm between its long fangs. He winced and lashed out with the stun baton. The snake spasmed, whipping its long body around so that Robert was forced to huddle against the Firefly. He whacked it once more for good measure, and turned around posthaste to get back inside the ship.

Once there, he tugged off his suit and ran fingers through his hair. “Could have been a lot worse, that one. We still on course?”

“Yep,” said Lana from her perch at the control panel. She was gazing fixedly out the windshield.

When Robert slid into place beside her, he noted her white-knuckled grip on the controls. “What’s up?

“Captain,” she said, “did anyone ever teach you to be very nice to a baby bear, because mama bear won’t be too far away?” She pointed out the windshield.

Robert looked.

A hulking roidlet of astronomical proportions was drifting toward them, menacing gaze fixed on the Firefly, tiny roidlets floating in her wake. Robert noticed that one had bits of metal hull stuck in its teeth.

He groaned. Then, grimly: “I’ll add it to my lexicon.”

I got a dress after all.

Because I meant to be out of bed at 8:30 but was at 7:30

If you look up you'll find the top looks different than it did before.

- - -

Conversation overheard while shelving, between a mom and two boys:

Older boy: "Can I read this?"

Mom: "What is it?"

Boy: "A normal kid book." [both these boys were wearing button-up shirts and the one might have had a tie, incidentally.]

Mom: "I don't let you guys read those. They have witches and witchcraft in them."

They went on. First she didn't want them to read a book about sports because they always read about sports, and from what I could glean she was trying to nudge them toward getting books about babies (thought I didn't think she looked pregnant) until the littler one finally went, "Look! A book about pink dolphins!"

Older boy: "Yeah, I've heard of those."

Much excitement, they exit (pursued by a bear. Except not. It's just that every time I shelve in the Shakespeare section there's a book that's called Exit, Pursued by a Bear) and I am left to that brand of introspection known as Shelving Contemplation.

First off, I've never agreed that kids shouldn't be allowed to read books like Harry Potter because of the witchcraft content. I think kids are a lot better at distinguishing fact from fiction than they are sometimes given credit for. I read the first one when I was nine or ten, and look, I'm a perfectly well-adjusted almost-adult with harmless nerdy tendencies. There are exceptions, and in the case where a parent knows a kid will come out of a Harry Potter book actually believing that witchcraft is possible (oh boy, how harmful, thinking 'lumos' makes a stick light up and discovering it doesn't) they'll be a little more careful. Altogether, though, I don't consider Harry Potter harmful fiction and I feel sorry for the kids who would like to read 'normal kid books' and can't.

On the other hand (Fiddler on the Roof, anyone?), these kids were genuinely excited about learning. That is the most enthused I've ever seen anyone about a pink dolphin, let alone an eight-year-old boy. They probably knew a lot and they probably thought it was fun to learn what they knew, and I do support that. I also admired how they didn't argue when their mom vetoed Harry Potter (I'm extrapolating that that's what it was, by the way) but accepted the verdict and moved on to the next thing.

When I am a parent (and I plan to be a parent. None of this wishy-washy 'maybe when I have a job and a home and I get bored and have nothing better to do with myself.' Your best childbearing years are 18 to 24, I hear. This 17-year-old would prefer not to waste them) I will find a happy medium. I don't want my kids to be reading everything that everyone else is reading because there is twaddle out there, but at the same time, I got a whole lot of pleasure from discussing Harry Potter with my friends. It's rare to meet a kid that is excited about learning (and I blame that on public school) but everyone loves stories.

On that note, reading Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb while I wait for A Clash of Kings from the library.

Practicing contentment

I had a list. It was in my wallet, and it detailed what I think are the holes in my wardrobe and what to get to fix them. It included things like black earrings, a cardigan to wear over summer shirts in winter (postponed until then), brown flats, nail polish, and hairbands.

I threw it out the other day, because it wasn't serving much of a purpose beyond making me remember what I don't have and should get. I think it's a lot more valuable to think about what you do have and don't need to wish you did, or even become less focused on 'having' at all. I mean, I like stuff, and clothes and books and shoes and etc, but I'm pretty sure that the time I spend thinking about stuff is time wasted a lot more wastefully than, say, taking that quiz on Facebook to figure out what kind of librarian I am. ('Archivist.' Wrong, as it happens.)

Cause guess what? In the end, you can't take it with you.

Shopping

I've begun to be mildly alarmed at the amount of money I'm capable of spending on clothes in a very short time. The Gollum/Smeagol war is constantly going on, like this:

Gollum: But I've already spent X number of dollars...
Smeagol: It's just money, precious! And you have a job!
Gollum: Yeah, but what about in university when I'm going to need to save money? I should get into the habit now!
Smeagol: Look, you needed that stuff. You didn't have jean capris.
Gollum: Yeah? WELL KIDS IN THIRD-WORLD COUNTRIES GET ALONG WITHOUT THEM JUST FINE.

Isn't it annoying how there are two sides to every darn coin? I argue with myself about pretty much everything. If I had to pick a thesis for my life, it would be 'find a happy medium'. In almost every respect, it's bad to be extreme. Faith is the only exception to this rule that comes to mind. Wouldn't it be so much easier if there were a rule for everything and my head would pick either Gollum or Smeagol and I could happily know that if I'm spending less than X dollars a month I'm okay?

Sadly, there is none. So I'll continue saving receipts and waiting until things go on sale and simultaneously learning to live a little and realizing that money isn't everything.

Yeesh. This life thing is rough.

Suck it up

That's what I told myself just before I made a trip to fill up my bike tires with air this afternoon.

It's gotten to the point where I'm fully capable of walking or biking to work, because the weather does not prohibit me and it stays light late enough that I can still get myself home after, at least from a shift that ends at 8. Not sure about 9. I also need the exercise. The reason I'm skinny is sure as heck not because I try to be.

The reasons I weren't look like this:
- I needed to fill up my bike tires. (That's taken care of.)
- I couldn't lock my bike up. (I've since learned that I can take it inside work until I leave; I've also rediscovered the combination on my lock.)
[This is where I started with the more pathetic reasons)
- It's hard to carry my purse and ride a bike. (That's what POCKETS are for.)
- The helmet would mess up my hair. (Ponytail. Braids. Objection slain.)
- I won't be able to bring home books as often because I won't be able to carry them. (Because the two-foot-tall STACK in my room won't last me.)

So I'm biking to and from work tonight, and the egregious hardships of exercise, no purse, and helmet hair will not prevail against me. At seventeen I'm really old enough to not have to bum a ride off my parents to get everywhere.

I can suck it up.

Never ready

I meant to write this later, after things really had changed and I was past high school forever, but with the mood I'm in tonight, I think it's better now.

This year has felt like one big long goodbye and at the same time one big long binge of terrified anticipation. I don't know if there's as jarring a jolt into the world as graduation from high school, but I hope this is the worst of them, because it's like thinking you can drive a car knowing only the theory of the matter - do I really have any idea what's out there waiting? Do I really have any idea what I'm doing? How do I know that the moment I change gears I won't skid out into highway traffic and get hopelessly pummeled?

I've commented to several people that if I could go back and be in high school for a few more years, I might. It's good that I can't. If I got to pick when I entered this stage of life, I'd probably be too big of a coward to ever graduate. The clock doesn't care about your plans; it keeps going.

I think it's different for me because I'm not just transitioning smoothly from high school to university. I'm not going from one institution to another. I'm going to be out in the WORLD, guys, and that's really the scariest part. Either I'm not ready for the world or the world isn't ready for me, or both, or neither.

To return to the car analogy, though, idiots learn to drive and manage to keep themselves intact. Surely I can do a little better than that. Also, the real brains behind this operation isn't letting me get at the wheel anyway because I'd only make a mess of it. That leaves me in the back seat pretending I'm in control and being distracted by passing birds.

And that puts it nicely in perspective.

(Incidentally - "God is my copilot"? Theological rubbish. You're lucky God lets you on the plane.)

Paper + ink = magic

Does anyone else find it minorly incredible that running your eyes over a piece of paper with black markings on it can be such an enjoyable pastime? I do.

On that note, have read/reading lately:

Victory of Eagles, Temeraire #5 (Naomi Novik) (✭✭✭✭/5)

Starclimber (Kenneth Oppel) [unfinished]

Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus (Orson Scott Card) [unfinished]

The Case Against Barack Obama: the Unlikely Rise and Unexamined Agenda of the Media's Favorite Candidate (David Freddoso) [unfinished]

Writing Science Fiction and Fantasy (Crawford Kilian) [unfinished]

To Say Nothing of the Dog (Connie Willis)(✭✭✭✭✭/5)

Also, I'm about to be reading Assassin's Apprentice (#1 of the Farseer Trilogy, Robin Hobb) and A Game of Thrones (#1 of A Song of Ice and Fire, George R. R. Martin). Does anyone else think that Mr. Martin purposely gave himself two R initials so he could be like J. R. R. Tolkien? I dunno, seems suspicious...

Recently watched movies: Twilight (but you know that - ✭); Batman Begins and The Dark Knight (✭✭✭✭ and ✭✭✭✭✭); as much of Earthsea as I could stomach, and that one doesn't even get half a star; The Lady and the Highwayman (with Hugh Grant. Hilarious in a very lame kind of way; I bet Mr Grant is so proud); School of Rock, far more entertaining than I anticipated (it only gets a ✭✭✭ because the slight plot holes kinda bugged me) ... and that's it. I also tried to watch Braveheart but the DVD spazzed.

Ooh, and music: Viva La Vida by Coldplay (and the mix with Love Story by Jon Schmidt was pretty cool), Burn Out Bright by Switchfoot, Live Out Loud by Steven Curtis Chapman, and Dawn from Pride and Prejudice. Also Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis.

Twilight - The Movie

I've seen it twice now. The second time, I enjoyed saying, "LOOK! The PLOT!" every time they slotted in a gratuitous vampire-violence scene, and "...there it goes again" every time we were back to *STARE* OMG Edward never leave me! I trust you with my life and I'm irrevocably in love with you even though we've had three conversations (and half of those were made up of pseudo-meaningful pauses and stares) and you want to kill me!

Essentially, the same principle applies to movie as to book: It could have been half as long (or less) without missing an iota of plot, and sparing us the forced romance.

Outside the non-existent romantic chemistry, the intense blues and greens and clammy-looking whites of the movie started to grate on me, and by the end of two viewings I wanted to smack the scriptwriters (Stephanie Meyer helped. Wanted to smack her too.) Every interaction was jerky, there was no smooth conversation, and the painfully obvious high schoolers were even more one-dimensional than they are in the book. Maybe I hang out with a superior crowd, but I don't know any high schoolers who are that pathetically transparent.

(However, Jacob was kinda cute. Movie-Jacob makes movie-Edward look exactly like the creepy stalker he is.)

And WHAT was up with the scene where Bella MISLAID HER PANTS? I did NOT need to see that! Also, take note, male readers, Bella Swan is the only girl in the world who appreciates being called 'spider monkey'. Do not try this at home. Also, do not insist on taking off your girlfriend's jacket, putting on her hat and fixing her hair, and doing up her seatbelt.

Lastly, a recommendation:

A Chronicling of My Journeys With Nail Polish

It began thusly. I had very short nails. The reasons for this were threefold: I played the piano; I used this as an excuse for keeping my nails short and used keeping my nails short as an excuse to bite them; and I figured I had ugly nails anyway, so what was the point? (Normally my self-esteem is decent. This must have been a lapse.) Oh, and also, I hate painting my right hand with my left hand because I am NOT ambidextrous. So that's four, actually.

As it happened, this is my last year of piano lessons, and at the beginning of the year my nails and I had a heart-to-heart (about thirty seconds long) and I decided I was sick of them being ugly and I might as well try something different. So the biting ceased. I've heard it's an addiction, but I have superlative willpower, so there you go. After a period of time and some sessions with one of those nail files that flips out of multitools, my piano teacher said, "Oh, you're letting your nails grow," and I took that as encouragement.

Added to my arsenal was clear nail polish, which is convenient mostly because it's hard to tell if you mess up while using it, and I happily used that about once a week.

The latest development in this saga happened this Saturday while shopping. The friend I was shopping with was standing in line with her purchase and happened to exclaim at a pretty color of nail polish by the cash register. There were two bottles of this color, as it happened, for $3.80 each, and I had a brief mental conversation that went like this, Gollum/Smeagol fashion:

Gollum: Hey, that IS pretty.
Smeagol: But you never paint your nails.
Gollum: I do too! It's just clear, so you can't see it.
Smeagol: Like I said. You don't paint your nails.
Gollum [rebellious]: Oh yeah? Well, NOW I do.

So I bought it. It's a sort of metallic silvery-green shade (though others in my family steadfastly maintain it is blue) and currently adorns all of the twenty nails I possess. Oh, but there's a story about that too.

See, I look at my hands a lot. It comes from using my laptop a lot and playing the piano a lot. Hence, I notice my nails frequently, and my left hand was bothering me this morning because there were a few spots where I had been less than meticulously neat. After finishing chemistry, I decided it was time to redo this hand, which ended up being a FAR larger project than it should have been. This is how events proceeded:

1) The nail polish remover comes out, and cotton balls.
2) I discover that this is not your ordinary submissive nail polish and declines to remove itself meekly.
3) A few wayward sparkles clinging to my fingertips, I decide good enough and go to redo it.
4) I discover that in my zeal, two or three fingers of my right hand accidentally got acquainted with the nail polish remover.
5) Left hand redone.
6) Clear nail polish added overtop of green stuff (because darnit, once I have it on properly, it's STAYING)
7) Except now we must paint right hand with left hand, which, if you'll recall, I do not enjoy. The same friend was kind enough to do that hand for me on Saturday evening.
8) This is accomplished without mishap (mostly).
9) I dance around my bedroom flapping my hands. I don't know if this actually makes it dry faster.
10) I am fervently glad I did not time how long this all took.

Casualties: Many cotton balls, a Q-tip or three, and a piece of scrap paper.

Oh, and this is all while owning exactly two colors of nail polish not counting the clear one. I think it might be dangerous to own more. Then there would be a loooong preliminary process of CHOOSING a color.

This might just scare me off ever wearing makeup.

Link added

And wow, is my list ever getting long. Newest is Dragons! Lip gloss! Death!, which is Naomi Novik's LiveJournal, and if you don't know who Naomi Novik is, well, YOU SHOULD. She writes the Temeraire series, historical fiction/fantasy set in the Napoleonic Era. With dragons!

I never talk much about my blog links, actually. Let's see...Small Dead Animals belongs to the almighty Kate MacMillan, who is funny AND conservative, and more handy than a newspaper.

Boundless Line is the blog for boundless.com, a webzine for young single Christians, and there's a variety of bloggers over there who talk about the issues facing our generation and how we should respond. There are some great thought-provoking discussions in the comments, too.

Captain Capitalism is a rabid economist/capitalist/I assume a conservative, and when I say rabid I mean rabid. But he is entertaining, and that's why I read him. We do disagree on some things. Like whether or not kids are a good thing and whether or not liberal arts degrees should exist in universities.

Kyleigh's Blog is the stomping grounds of the lovely Nightingale off A-U, also with thought-provoking posts from a young Christian.

DRAMA QUEENY Rhythm...oh boy. We're related.

send in the clowns, again, related, except this time 'tis my grandma. She writes about many things, not least Alberta wildlife and current news.

through a glass darkly is by Valera/arinelspeth teh ph33rsome engineer of d00m. She also writes mean sci-fi and I don't think she'll mind if I add that there are fifteen chapters of such sci-fi here. And there had better be more :D

Charlotte's Thoughts, whee, related again. Her recent topics include voting, smoking, Mother's Day, poetry...many things.

Western Canada Quizzing is the blog for the WCD district quizzers, where there are photos and recently a promo video and news updates.

Bassoon Freak - how many relatives are we at now? Four? Tales from a music major. She must know some very funny people (or have a lot of inside jokes) because I can't manage a quote at the end of every post at all.

Quizzing Central - Tales of a Quizzer for study tips and amusing anecdotes. We all love quizzers.

Imperfect Cogitare is, again, the stomping grounds of an A-Uer, Fencing Maiden. She writes about writing and posts writing along with thoughtful observations about life in general, all presented vividly and with a refreshingly unique perspective. Really, what's not to like :P

megs musings, poetry from Inwe Calaelen. Except she needs to post more. *hinthint*

And you already heard about Dragons! Lip gloss! Death!

Those are my blog habits. Check them out.

I will try to fix you

From a Coldplay song.

Friday night our youth group went to a 'youth rally' at another church in the city, and while the turnout was less than expected and I was mildly disappointed with the speaker, he did say a few things that proved thought-provoking.

Just a side note: The reason I was disappointed is because I find that people who speak to youth tend to just address the same topics over and over. Growing up in the church and in a youth group as I have, I've heard so many people talk about youth in pain and youth who contemplate suicide and cut and do drugs and etc that I'm tired of it. I'm not saying these issues aren't problems, but I've become frustrated with the way messages to youth more resemble pep talks to think positive and step out of the rut than anything really spiritually significant.

This particular message was chiefly a pep talk, but the thing that stuck out to me about it was when he said that God wants to takes your broken pieces and put them back together, and make your life mean something, essentially. The reason this intrigued me is because it fit with an idea I've had for a while: as humans, we come up with stories, we write books, we tell about things that have meaning and climax and symbolism, and I think that one of the possible underlying reasons we do this is because we want our lives to have meaning. We wish our lives meant something the same way the lives of the people we write about mean something. We want the assurance that our lives, day after day, are not just a progression of humdrum existence that will never mean anything or change anything. So in a sense, creating stories and alternate worlds is like creating the reality we want for ourselves.

So when he talked about God wanting to put the pieces together, it made me think of the plot of a story. Aimless circumstances stuck together, and characters growing, to make a coherent whole. I think God wants to give our lives a plot, so we're always looking toward the climax.

I'm curious for thoughts on this one, so please do comment :D

Facebook, how we love thee.

STATUS: Ben Matychuk hates all this rain.
Kyle Sinclair at 4:42pm May 6: Whats wrong with you? I've been praying for rain!! It puts the fires out!! Glad to know YOU care...
Ben Matychuk at 4:43pm May 6: i mean it's awesome....go rain!
Kyle Sinclair at 4:44pm May 6: yeahh...sure...your true thoughts came out...
Ben Matychuk at 4:45pm May 6: which are, "Rain is awesome."
Kyle Sinclair at 4:46pm May 6: haha then why do you have your status as..."Ben Matychuk haets all this rain"?
Ben Matychuk at 4:47pm May 6: it doesn't
Ben Matychuk at 4:48pm May 6: my first one was just a mistake
Kyle Sinclair at 4:48pm May 6: okayy...sure...then change it!!!
Ben Matychuk at 4:49pm May 6: i did, see?
STATUS: Ben Matychuk loves rain
Josh Stauffer at 4:49pm May 6: That's very good. Did you know rain puts out forest fires?
Kyle Sinclair at 4:49pm May 6: Much better. :)
Ben Matychuk at 4:49pm May 6: yes, that's why i love it
Amy Matychuk at 4:53pm May 6: this entertains me highly. Yay peer pressure.
Ben Matychuk at 4:55pm May 6: why is the love of rain so entertaining? there's no pressure, just a boy and his rain.
Kyle Sinclair at 4:55pm May 6: well Amy...I think that is the first time i've ever heard that...
Ben Matychuk at 4:59pm May 6: yes, i apologize, for i've kept my love of water that falls from the sky within the interior until now :D
Kyle Sinclair at 5:00pm May 6: are you bipolar??!!! 15 min ago you said you hate rain.
Ben Matychuk at 5:03pm May 6: no i'm not! first of all it was 19 mins ago and 2nd of all, it can be easy to make that typo. the "H" is only 3 keys away from "L," the "A" is only....8 keys away from "O," the "T" is only 2 keys away from the "V," and they both end with "E"
Kyle Sinclair at 5:05pm May 6: but that changes of you getting all of them in that order are very slim. Bipolar....
Ben Matychuk at 5:06pm May 6: slim, yes but not.................invisible
Kyle Sinclair at 5:07pm May 6: i still don't believe you.
Ben Matychuk at 5:08pm May 6: fine, but my hate of rain will never leave me
Ben Matychuk at 5:09pm May 6: look! i just did it again!

Bittersweet and strange

It'll be a victory if I manage to write this without crying.

This is how I envisioned it. This is what I felt was supposed to happen.

I was a pretty average rookie. I won a ribbon once, at the very first meet, and after that things went downhill. My second year, grade 8, I spent mostly in Division C. Yeah, I got awards, and yeah, our team made the finals because it was so easy, but I wasn't brilliant. I was scared as heck to get off my seat. Grade 9, the best coach in the world put me into Division A. Everyone jumped fast. People went to Great West, Internationals, all the time. I memorized the entire text of Romans and James that year, and I still only got one question in an entire quiz, if that. Grade 10 was much the same. I got a little better - up to two questions a quiz - but still my goal of making Great West, the top 25 in Alberta, was far away. Grade 11, I packed Galatians/Ephesians/Philippians/Colossians into my head, and I finally made the top 25. I never got a question right at Great West, but I was finally there.

This year, Grade 12, my last year, I made Great West again, and I fought tooth and nail to make the ultimate goal. Internationals. I know Luke backwards and forwards. I spent hours studying, improving my jumping, pushing myself to the very boundaries of my abilities.

You know how it was supposed to end, in my head?

I was supposed to go to Internationals.

I was supposed to have this success story for all the rookies. You know what? I was there too. I was there, struggling with fear of making a mistake, looking at all the top quizzers and wondering why it was so easy for them. I was THERE. And look where I am now.

I'm not going.

Part of me, a big part, is so disappointed that it didn't end the perfect way it was supposed to. Part of me knew all along that life isn't like that - it doesn't end in a perfect climax, and it doesn't always mean a clear-cut success story. I'm trying to learn that success is not ribbons or medals, success is not Internationals. I'm trying to remember that my friends love me just the same no matter what place I come in.

It's been two days, and already I'm achingly sad that it's over. That it was my last shot to make the goal I wanted, and I didn't. Every word of Luke has become something precious to me. I want to be back on those seats, feeling the satisfaction of getting a question right, crying, laughing, being right in the thick of it and feeling the competition excite me and terrify me all at once. But it's over, and I'll never be there again.

Well, that no crying thing isn't working out so well.

I have a feeling this will mean tears for a long time. I'm not sure how long it'll be before I stop aching to be a quizzer again, and knowing that it's over.

"I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are an evil." - Gandalf the White

Was it worth it? Heck yeah. No regrets. I've loved being a quizzer and the moments of euphoria have made the studying and the tears worth it a million times over. So I pounded Luke into my head, so I dreamed big for a year, so I wanted Internationals so bad I could taste it, and I ached to be there every time I saw a picture, every time I heard a story. I'm not sorry I dreamed big. Someone told me, once, when I was disappointed with my performance, that the reason I cry is because I feel things so keenly. I wouldn't want to stop feeling that, because it means that success is so much more meaningful.

I'm trying not to care so much about my idea of success. Not when I have friends and family who love me like this:



And whether or not we were always the top team - and we weren't - Southgate 1 will always hold an incredible place in my heart.


Ben, Josh, Carissa, Sarah, Amy, Everett.

Because you guys made every tear worth it.

God gave me six years of knowing incredible people, and that part isn't over.

And the general vicinity is littered with kleenex.

The Fantasy Novelist's Exam

I can't get enough of these. Favorites:

22. Did you make the elves and the dwarves great friends, just to be different?

26. Did you draw a map for your novel which includes places named things like "The Blasted Lands" or "The Forest of Fear" or "The Desert of Desolation" or absolutely anything "of Doom"?

33. Is your name Robert Jordan and you lied like a dog to get this far?

53. Heaven help you, do you ever use the term "hit points" in your novel?

74. Is your book basically a rip-off of The Lord of the Rings?

75. Read that question again and answer truthfully.

Today's Bout of Giggling

The Van Helsing List

Van Helsing Rule #1: All anti-hero types must dress in black, have mysterious pasts, a gruff demeanor, and the ability to crack witty remarks during the heat of battle. No matter how competent they are, or how many people they manage to save, they'll always find themselves hated by the public and mistrusted by their superiors.

Van Helsing Rule #2: If the cool anti-hero gets paired with a sidekick, it'll most likely be a kooky comic-relief gadgeteer who, inexplicably, winds up getting laid more often than he does. Corollary : It is NEVER right when the kooky comic relief gadgeteer winds up getting laid more often than the cool anti-hero. Especially if the cool anti-hero happens to be played by Hugh Jackman.

Van Helsing Rule #3: Lower-ranking clergy NEVER take the whole "obeying the ten commandments" and "celibacy" thing very seriously. (In spite of this, they are almost always more trustworthy and compassionate than the Vatican higher-ups...)

Van Helsing Rule #4: Cool anti-heroes love their hats and will do anything to keep from losing them.

Van Helsing Rule #5: The cooler-looking and "seemingly-more-likely-to-go-out-of-control-and-kill-the-person-wielding-it-than-the-person-it's-aimed-at" a weapon is, the better it works.

Van Helsing Rule #6: All crossbows basically behave like machine guns with arrows.

Van Helsing Rule #7: High heels and a tight corset are considered acceptable vampire-hunting garb.

Van Helsing Rule #8: Powerful supervillains like to keep their friends close, their enemies closer and the one object which is capable of saving the hero and contributing to their own demise in a lightly guarded room located within their own fortress.

Van Helsing Rule #9: All unknown viscous fluids are dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

Van Helsing Rule #10: In Eastern Europe, the full moon occurs approximately once every four days.

Van Helsing Rule #11: You need never keep track of where you're going in a desperate pitched battle, because ALL you need to do is swing on a rope and/or crash through a window and you'll automatically find yourself at the one place you needed to go to next.

Van Helsing Rule #12: The stroke of midnight can, if the plot calls for it, go on for twenty minutes or more.

Van Helsing Rule #13: Female characters who fall in love with the cool anti-hero are invariably doomed. (The fact that they were able to kick *** and survive high falls, beatings and monster attacks for the first 98% of the movie is irrelevant. All it will take to dispatch them at the end is a simple stab wound.)

Van Helsing Rule #14: Cool, creepy art direction and millions of dollars of special effects cannot make up for a script conceived and written by a severely impaired tube worm...

There's a whole long page of fantasy cliches (PG-13, but SO true) and this was at the bottom and made me laugh more than all the rest. It's true. I liked Van Helsing, but it lacked plot and logic. Badly.

Thought of the day

Blank Word Documents are terrifying.

Hackneyed 'How are you'

Today I realized just how much hearing, "How are you?" from a casual acquaintance bothers me.

Take work, for example. A lot of these people know me basically by name. They don't know much about me, just who I am, and yet whenever I walk in or happen to be shelving in the same area as them, they say, "How are you?"

And - briefly - these are my thoughts: Say something really clever. Not generic. Find a new witty way of restating 'good' or 'fine' or 'decent'. Make them think! Say how you REALLY are!

What I say: "Good. What about you?"

And half the time they don't even hear me, because when they asked "How are you?" they weren't thinking "How are you," they were thinking, "Oh, I should say something instead of letting the awkward silence stretch."

Yeah, but with awkward silence, you have the opportunity to say something wonky. Like, "Whoa, this book is called, 'The 200 Best Jobs for Introverts'!" or "There's gum stuck to this chair."

I admit it, I say "How are you." What I never know how to tack on is, "How are you? REALLY? What are you going through? What excites you? What are you looking forward to?" But because no one (surprisingly enough, eh?) can read minds, all I ever get is "Good" as well.

I need a new conversation starter. "How are you" isn't cutting it.

Great West 2009

For pictures go here and here.

It was phenomenal.

phenomenal
adjective

remarkable, exceptional, extraordinary, amazing, astonishing, astounding, sensational, stunning, incredible, unbelievable; marvelous, magnificent, wonderful, outstanding, singular, out of the ordinary, unusual, unprecedented; informal fantastic, terrific, tremendous, stupendous, awesome, out of this world; literary wondrous.

Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

This year, Great West was located at Camp Chamisall (a semi-acronym for Christian and Missionary Alliance), in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. It is reached, in the last few kilometers, by a 'road' (and calling it a road is like calling a lizard a dinosaur) that is so full of hills and ruts and mud and hairpin bends that my dad said, a little ways in, "If anyone had told me it was this bad, I would have called them a liar."

So that was fun. Unless you're prone to carsickness, but I'm not.

Also, about half an hour out, we completely lost all cell phone coverage. They had warned us about this, but being city folk, we said, "No cell phone coverage? Pfft." Well, they were right. We later learned that if you walked out into the middle of the moraine (new word! Look it up) that hosted the creek, there was a certain spot where there was coverage, but I didn't miss it. The lack of technology was refreshing.

In addition to this, we slept in cabins - ten bunks in each - that boasted qualities such as power outlets that buckled under the strain of a hair straightener (we girls ended up putting one of the bathroom ones out of commission even after they warned us not to use the outlets in the cabin) and heating that made the top bunks sweltering and the bottom ones frigid. I slept like a rock, though. Quizzing is tiring. That was roughing it, all right - nowhere to plug in your hair straightener and fifty feet from your door to the bathroom! (I revel in my city-girl-ness.)

One of the most exciting moments about Great West is finding out the teams. Everyone goes very silent. The coaches all stand in pairs, trying to suppress their grins, and Sandy makes announcements beforehand just to prolong the suspense, ending with, "And if you don't like your team...keep it to yourself" and a grin.

As it happened, I did like my team, which turned out to be an accurate impression because Western Canada Team 2 came home with gold in the championship final. I wore mine all of Saturday evening.

The building they had slated for quizzing was supposed to be done in October 2007. It wasn't. It wasn't done in April 2009, either. But they moved the pallets of drywall and swept the plywood floors and added a couple pairs of floodlights, and really, as long as you can sit at a table and say, "Question number one," who cares? One of the rooms also boasted the location of a furnace directly behind the quizmaster, resulting in many instances of, "Okay, you need to come closer to the table" and "I can't hear you when you look at the floor and talk" and "Enunciate, please!"

Do I sound negative so far? Because I loved it, all of it, and the addition of a trampoline (I'm the one whose head and shoulders are missing. You needed four spotters to be allowed to jump, and that's why) and foosball and many epic games of Dutch Blitz completed the awesomeness.

Oh yeah, and then there was the quizzing.





Listen for the clickers in the first one! That's everyone finding the triggers in their seats and clicking them off juuuust barely so that they can click on again to jump, for those of you who are uneducated.

There were four districts that participated in the meet - Canada Midwest (CMD), Western Canada (us - WCD), Pacific Northwest (PNW) and Rocky Mountain - and sixteen teams (of four or five people each) and seventy quizzers. After the five preliminary quizzes, the top six teams got a bye into the Championship round, the nine below them quizzed off with each other in an XYZ round to see which three of them also went into Championship, and the rest were bumped down into Consolation. After those quizzes, my team (WCD 2) was fourth. All but one of the five WCD teams made it into in the Championship round, and in addition, the three teams that made it into the Championship final were WCD 1, WCD 2, and WCD 3. How's that for being hospitable? We host the meet and crush the competition. Bwaha. As previously mentioned, WCD 2 won, and I answered an interrogative in the final. "We are un-" Unworthy servants. (Luke 17:10.) I was really proud of that question.

As for individual scores, 5 of the top 10 quizzers were from WCD. I placed 20th - in fact, I was one of four people who tied for 19th place, tie broken by errors. That's a huge improvement on last year, when I was 62nd out of 66 quizzers.

Basically, I want to go back and do everything again. Quizzing = awesomeness.


"My name is Grace Ajele, and I live for boys and quizzing. That is all."