Feet of Shadows

T-Minus 19 Days

2010-08-17T20:17:00.008-06:00

Today I reorganized and sorted through my clothes, including all jewelry, and cleaned out Drawer 1 of 5. (20% of quest completed.) Also awaiting purging are The Cupboards and the dreaded Back of Closet. (No, that wasn't what I did today. The clothes are in the other side of the closet.) A cursory count of all the books in my room comes out at roughly 100; I suspect this will need to be whittled down to a select few that I will use while at university. I don't anticipate having much space to store them.

I've seen a few checklists for university dorm rooms, and been skeptical of all of them. I need a handheld vacuum cleaner? Really? I'm not going to try and anticipate too much. Calgary has stores too; I'll buy whatever I need that I don't already have once I've actually seen my living space.

Other accomplishments in the university-prep vein: Bedding!

The duvet cover and one pillowcase (left) are dark, almost charcoal grey, from IKEA. My mom and I were browsing the bedding department and I kept saying, "This one feels really nice," and she kept saying, "Well, I think they're all the same material," and then we discovered that some had higher thread counts. So I got one of those. In contrast, my sheet set from HomeSense (right), containing one flat sheet, one fitted sheet, and a pillowcase, is patterned in black and white and pink and orange. We plan to find a throw blanket and throw pillows in bright pink and orange.

Also from Homesense:
Left, a bedside caddy, pictured here in use on my bed. It has Useful Pockets, many, and in addition, cost $2. (Though mommy bought it for me so I didn't even pay that.) Right, a laptop sleeve that made it through an eternity of humming and hawing by me, but ended up coming home. It is a tiny bit big, but I decided $20 for a slightly-too-large one was better than $45 or $50 for a precisely fitted Apple one. (I got so absorbed in the process of choosing one that I put down the IKEA duvet cover we'd brought for color matching and forgot it. Mom had to go back and retrieve it from HomeSense this morning.)

Stay tuned for tales of my university-prep purchases and navigations between Stuff I Need and Stuff I Don't.

[EDIT: ...Blogger's Preview page lied to me and the picture placement is a little messed up. Now I know how Robin McKinley frequently feels.]

potr, bday, TOMS, and other abbreviations

2010-08-16T17:44:00.006-06:00

This morning I told Jamie (aka potr) goodbye in the Edmonton airport. Her visit had been one of the events I counted down to this year, and even though it was a week long--the longest we've ever spent together--it went by with the deceptive speed that disguises itself as time passing normally but isn't. Our mothers think we need to relocate closer to each other; we haven't yet managed to say goodbye without tears, but the distance isn't as bad as it could be. Webcam and Skype and MSN manage to tide us over, despite our favorite comparison that going back to instant messaging after being together is like returning to instant coffee after getting a taste of espresso. We hope to be together again in the first week of January 2011.

And thus on August 13 I passed my first adult year. Bye, 18. You saw me meet an online friend for the first time, be legally allowed to drink alcohol but never try it, get a job, quit a job, and be accepted into university. You weren't very good at making me feel like an adult, but it's okay, 19 isn't much use for that either. I think I need a dragon before I'll feel REALLY grown up. And perhaps I could save the world.

TOMS Shoes, short for Shoes for Tomorrow, is a company founded by Blake Mycoskie that gives a pair of shoes to a child in need for every pair of shoes bought from them. Blake spoke at a leadership conference I attended in the first week of August, and I admired that he runs an organization that is both charitable and self-sustaining. Also they make cute shoes. So I bought a pair from the website, and they arrived today (just as potr was leaving. It lifted my mood a little) in the mail. They look like standard canvas shoes, but there is a little more arch support than I've found in Vans or Keds and they are quite comfortable (barring that they pinch my heels, but I suspect that will cease once they're broken in). Everyone go buy a pair!

In three weeks less a day I move into residence at Ambrose University College. Happily, until then, I have three weeks less a day to kill by finally having the summer holiday I envied of everyone else. I have no plans. That's the idea.

Coming soon: Mexico Day 7. I WILL have these all posted by the end of the summer.

Interlude: All done at MLW

2010-08-07T17:28:00.002-06:00

I've never left a job before; when I moved from Student Page to Adult Page I stayed at the same place with the same people, only my duties changed. My last day had an air of what-are-they-going-to-do-fire-me? to it, which meant that I totally skipped out of work to eat cake in the middle of my shift and hung around talking to people and had a way better time at work than I was used to having. I was even a little bit emotional when I made the rounds for hugs.

I vividly remember the mid-July (2009) morning I showed up for work and my assistant manager said, "Good morning, Amy! Are you ready for your interview?" and I blinked like I was shell-shocked and tried to find something intelligent to say and came out with, "...what interview?"

Turned out she'd forgotten to tell me I was being interviewed for a Circulation Assistant position I'd applied for, since my tenure as a Student Page was ending. I still think this is the optimal way to do job interviews. No stress, just a moment of slight panic. Far preferable.

Speaking of slight panic, just a month or so after I started as a Student, I was shelving graphic novels and heard behind me, a little ways away at the computers, "You're under arrest for trespassing."

And there was a cop standing there with about four teenage guys, and one of them said, "What happens if we run?"

At that point I turned around and kept shelving and was really glad when I looked again and they weren't there any more.

Mill Woods is a very tiny, very busy branch--we serve the same number of people as the nearly-biggest branch, Whitemud Crossing. I laughed when people asked if it was nice and quiet working in the library. Are you kidding me? If the kids' section is remotely loud the ENTIRE library is loud. Once my manager said it was, "literally bursting at the seams." REALLY? LITERALLY? Can I SEE?

I was always the slightly weird kid, too. A little while after I started I squeed to a fellow Student that I was so excited to be working in the library and she was utterly bemused by this. (It did wear off. Still cool, though.) I also loved the jobs other people hated, like shelf-reading and weeding from a list and boxing books and pulling holds. And emptying the sorting machine, which was always my favorite thing to do.

I discovered things about myself, working, and one of them is that I'm highly intimidated by authority. I couldn't relax around my managers even when I was sitting in the staff room on lunch break with them, and for a long time my MO at lunch was to sit on the couch with my iPod in and be antisocial. That changed this summer, and today I went and sat on the Starbucks patio with some of my coworkers. It seems a little ironic that I'm leaving just as I had started to feel like a valuable member of my workplace.

This was always an in-between job. It's never been something I wanted to do for the long run, and it was never very intellectually stimulating or challenging, but every so often I'd be shelving books and kind of stop and realize, "Dude, I work in a library. For the rest of my life, people are going to ask what my first job is and I'm going to say, 'I worked in a library'." And it's going to be cool.

I didn't cry when I left, but I think I might miss it. A little.

Mexico, Day 6

2010-07-27T22:50:00.000-06:00

July 8, 4:35 pm
I haven't had time to even sit down with my journal today.

This morning I showered but didn't wash my hair, because dirty hair discourages lice and we have adult evangelism tonight. I am still very not-tanned.

After breakfast (French toast - Destiny was excited) Ms. Hildebrand braided my hair, so it's been in French braids all day. When I was wearing an apron and hairnet to work in the kitchen Nathan said I looked like a Hutterite. [Thanks Nathan. Same to you :D]

Yesterday morning Bob wrote down my name for working in the kitchen today, so that was where I went after Sala. (I sat with little Nancy from the nursery and she was very good and quiet, for the most part.) I was with two of the girls from Washington, Amber and Megan, and the first thing we did was wash the kitchen floor with Manuel and the four guys assigned to help him.

It was a lot of fun. We moved everything that was moveable and sloshed buckets of soapy water all over the floor. I'd changed into my runners and left my sandals, which was a good plan. It was wet. We swept all the water all over with brooms and then squeegeed it toward the drains. I have some pictures, taken by Everett, of me with a squeegee. Some people mopped and I Hung Around Awkwardly (we did a lot of that) until it was time to move stuff back.

After that the boys and Manuel left, and Amber and Megan and I made attempts at communication with the kitchen ladies (all Mexican) until they gave us hairnets, aprons and jobs.

We chopped very many juicy, huge tomatoes. My knife was mediocre and one of the ladies noticed and gave me a big white cleaver-ish one with somewhat of a knowing smile.

We chopped tomatoes and lettuce until they had enough for lunch, then washed our dishes (and some others) and wiped down some of the huge white bins where they keep ingredients in bulk. (Skim milk powder, flour, sugar, etc.) Amber and Megan washed the lids. All this washing was with bleach, which meant our hands felt icky and dry after.

On break at 11, they sold donuts and I downed two in about three minutes and made my last visit to the gift shop. Last, I promise. I have bought 5 different kinds of nuts, a ring and a bracelet. I don't really need any more necklaces or earrings, and I didn't love any of the ones they had.

Destiny, Jordan, Carissa ad I were on lunch prep and cleanup, so we took the chairs off the tables and served all the food. Once we were done there was also some fun chatting with Manuel and Uriel. Apparently Manual is now 'Mickey Mouse Manuel', according to Uriel. I missed the first part of that conversation but was still rather amused.

Lunch was salad (hence the lettuce and tomatoes), spaghetti with sauce, and garlic toast. Very North American. (Supper was a letdown. Buns with refried beans and cheese. Oh boy.) I swept and mopped the floor after and contemplated FFHM and the ministry they have here. It's such a little Mexican oasis. I think I would like to come back. Life is so SIMPLE here. So much less worrying, about anything, and when I do it turns out fine. I don't even really miss anyone that much, though I might if I stayed here longer.

After lunch I meant to journal but Nathan was walking by and asked if I wanted to visit the babies in the nursery and I experienced a split second of indecision but went with the babies, figuring journaling could wait. One of them wasn't into being piggybacked around and chased, but Carelli quite enjoyed it. That felt idyllic too.

We met at the firepit at 2:10 for child evangelism and I slathered on sunscreen (though I might have burned a bit more today anyway) and edged closer to Bryan when Uriel wanted to send one person from our group with a different one. No thanks. He sent Everett instead. So Bryan and Loree and Carissa and I left with Adrienna, who leads one of the child evangelisms. She gave Bryan some haphazard directions, and I think listened to her ipod most of the ride.

We got to the neighborhood and drove around while Adrienna announced the kids' Bible class from a loudspeaker out the window of the van. We parked eventually, and went into a little fenced yard with a locked shed and one tree. Initially only 6 or 7 kids showed up but the group kept gradually growing while we sang songs and stuff, and probably topped out at about 30.

Adrienna led the songs and we pretended to know them, and greeted arriving kids. At one point in a song, out of the blue for us since she was speaking all in Spanish, everyone pointed to each helper (us) and shouted, "Como te llamas!" in turn. ("What's your name") I was first and forgot my name for a second because I was that surprised.

After a Bible story (I poked a few boys and told them to be quiet, but Adrienna completely ignored them so I don't know if she cared) we gave out milk and peanut butter. Carissa and I had the peanut butter and Loree had the milk, and that part was fun. There was enough left over to give out seconds and thirds, and after that they all trickled out pretty fast. [One kid just kept on lining up for peanut butter despite having three or four uneaten spoonfuls already. We were amused.] Adrienna gave the remains of the peanut butter jar to an older boy.

Bryan had discovered when we stopped that milk had spilled in the back of the van, so he said he was thinking of that the whole time, worrying that we wouldn't have enough for all the kids, and that we wouldn't be able to clean it up before it started to stink up the van.

So we headed back and did that right away. We used towels from the visitors' lounge, and facecloths from the same cupboard, and soapy water. The milk had pooled in the patterned holes on the floor matting, which was tricky, but we soaked it up and Bryan took out the back bench to clean the seat where the milk had spilled. We also cleaned up all the snack wrappers, which will be nice on the way back.

I attempted to journal before dinner, but mostly chatted.

Dinner, as I mentioned, was buns with refried beans and cheese, and the general sentiment was, "...is this all?" I had 3. Some people had none. The non-fans of refried beans.

I also tried journaling after dinner, sitting on the low wall across from the visitors' centre. [Note: clearly it is not 4:35 pm any more. I think I switched at some point and just didn't note it.] Bryan walked past and offered in jest the 'nice, damp' seat from the back of the van. Ha ha. Then he sat on it to read his book :P

Anyway, Ms. Hildebrand walked past and mentioned we were meeting in 10 minutes and to get ready, so that was that.

We discussed low points and high points, I received advice on fixing the bandana I borrowed from Loree (yay more Hutterite. I wanted my hair to be mostly covered), and we discussed who's speaking in Sala tomorrow, when the visitors have a chance to share. Loree and Everett. I am not - I don't feel that I can adequately express my thoughts yet.

We prayed and talked some with the larger group before leaving for Adult Evangelism, and Bob warned us about things like the kids being 'wild' and that this particular camp was 'under disciplinary measures' and spooked us a little. Me, anyway.

I must record the outfit I wore. Running shoes, ankle socks, jeans, black skirt over jeans, t-shirt, other t-shirt over the first one, Canada hoody, bandana (with french braids pinned up and hairsprayed to death). It was not attractive. But, as Debra says, "We know who's NOT getting raped tonight."

On the drive I journaled and nearly caught up. Nathan talked some about going to these places, these migrant camps, until the protection of the Spirit, and being unafraid. I appreciated it after Bob's talk. I prayed when we got closer. (Nathan also shared more university dorm pranks.)

We pulled into a flat dirt field with a bunch of guys playing soccer. There were no girls in sight. We backed into a parking spot and got out, and kinda huddled in a group until the kids began to appear.

Loree wanted to play soccer, but according to Bob, Mexican guys don't appreciate girls playing with them. Bryan stood guard over our vans for the entire time, to prevent anyone letting the air out of our tires (an actual previous occurrence, according to Bob) or breaking the windows or something. Laurent and Nathan and Joel (who attracts little boys magnetically) rolled around with the kids. I gave a lot of piggybacks and spun around a lot of kids. More older kids this time.

One girl, 8, in a grey Adidas hoody (Nati, I think she said her name was) seemed to just want to hang around me. I'm unsure why. I'm not sure it was because she liked me more than anyone else, but I piggybacked her around for a decent stretch of time. She was a gorgeous little girl. I was reminded of Selena Gomez, actually. Only a lot younger :P

Another pair of them wandered around with me for a while while I pointed out things - the sky, the ground, a shoe - and said, "English, sky. Espanol - ?" and they told me the words. They seemed to think that was fun. There were more kids this time that tittered at my "No entiendo" and "No hablo espanol."

The picture-taking team (whom most of our group consider not especially useful) were there, but they didn't attempt to herd all the kids into lines this time.

When the movie started I stood back with Carissa and prayed for some of the people, but it kind of turned into a prayer for me. I just want to hear God. I'll go, anywhere he says, but I want to KNOW. I want him to TELL me.

Mexico, Day 5

2010-07-18T13:58:00.004-06:00

July 7, 7:35 am
Sitting in the courtyard with Carissa and Michelle.

Lots of the girls were sore this morning after all the carrying and piggybacking we did last night, but I'm not. I tried to wash my blue hoody in the sink but it's still wet and sodden so I don't know if it's going to be dry even by Friday. I'm planning on buying one today when the gift shop is open. [I didn't.]

Anyway. Adult Evangelism was shockingly eye-opening. I sort of wonder if the reason they take us out there is so we can actually see the poverty for ourselves. They have little houses, and playgrounds and a basketball court, but they LOOK poor, and the kids are all tiny and wild. [This, we learned later, was a fairly high-end work camp, as work camps go.] One girl, as tall as me but younger, was only wearing a tank-top-like shirt and asked for my hoody by tugging at it. I said no but I wished I could, that I didn't need it, and that it wasn't unfair to give it to just one when we didn't have hoodies for all of them. I also had a granola bar in the pouch of my hoody, which a couple kids noticed, and then when we got in the van I realized it was gone.

I forgot about praying for the kids for the most part, they were in and out so fast, but I did for a few right at the end.

In the van on the way back I asked Nathan about Ambrose meal plans and he proved quite helpful. He said most girls don't actually use up all of their meal plan. He also told funny stories of dorm pranks. :P

We laughed a lot about random things, most of which I barely remember, and my caesar salad from Sunday, which I forgot in the van, got spilled on the floor. Eww. I may go back to make sure I got all the bits that spilled when I cleaned it up, cause it was dark.

It was weird, I wasn't happy with the ridiculous skirt getup, but once we got there it stopped mattering. The kids don't care. It was nice to change out of it, though. All our hair looked hilarious after we pulled it out of ponytails and whatnot, because of the hairspray we put in to discourage lice.

I journaled as far as I could last night and fell asleep probably seconds after the light went out.

This morning I woke up and dozed off again until 6:30, when I stumbled over to the bathroom for a cold, wimpy-water-pressured shower. My hair is still damp and I need to hunt up some bobby pins before we go out to work assignments.

We got toast and peanut butter and oatmeal for breakfast, and I tried the milk, which Carissa says tastes like melted ice cream. It doesn't, quite, but almost. Also had more awesome coffee, though 15 minutes is not long enough to properly enjoy a cup of coffee.

Destiny just about started breaking in through the wrong window, when we went back to our room and no one had a key. I believe she wanted a calling card to call her mom. She was really homesick initially, but I think she's feeling better. [Yay for Destiny! I hope you were feeling better.]

[A bit later]
Carissa and I sat in the courtyard for a while with our journals, before the nursery was open for us to take babies.

At breakfast Bob came up and picked Loree and Dionne to watch the kids in the nursery during Sala. I wanted to be picked to go in the nursery, no fair :P He didn't even ask for volunteers. Whatever. I'll get over it. Maybe he just noticed they've been playing with the kids a lot. I TRY, but I just feel...awkward. Shy? I feel like I don't know how to be a fun person with kids, or something. Which is stupid, of course I do. I dunno.

I got a little girl out of the nursery, Leah, for Sala, but she started squirming as soon as I sat down and I took her back (thankfully today I sat close to the door). I wish she'd gone to sleep on my shoulder, she looked like she might for a bit and it's so sweet when kids do that.

We're sitting in Sala now and one of the house parents is sharing about the medical problems his 'son' (one of the orphans) Oscar is having, and how Oscar has to leave and live in Tijuana. [Poor Oscar. He has AIDS and they live too far away from Tijuana for him to get blood tests and stuff as often as he needs. He shared, too, and just about started to cry before he even started talking.]

1:35 pm
We're sitting in the sun outside the visitors' centre, enjoying it. Destiny showed us she can fake being pregnant. Now she's lying in the sun. Laurent and Loree are over playing with some of the disabled kids from the day home.

According to Ms. Hildebrand, there's a little autistic girl who lives here with two caretakers. She came right to me to tell me. I'd like to meet her, I think - I feel a little apprehensive at the idea. It's not like I really know much about autism. I do work with Jaden, but autism is so DIFFERENT with every individual. [I never did get to meet her. I kind of wish I had.]

4:15 pm
To carry on from where I stopped just then, I ran over to take pictures of Laurent and Loree and Nathan with the disabled kids and ended up semi-playing with them until 2 when we received afternoon work assignments. Incidentally, the grassy sward where we played is SO lovely and soft and green in the sun. [I like the phrase 'grassy sward' and since it sounded about right for this particular area I just kept on using it. It makes me feel wordy. It means 'an expanse of short grass'. From Old English.]

Anyway, we congregated right outside the visitors' centre and Bob started out by listing the places that needed help in the afternoon - weeding, raking, lawnmowing, help in the day home. I expected the day home to get snatched up right away because it involves playing with kids, which everyone loves, but it didn't. Two people volunteered for sweeping first.

So I put up my hand and said I'd do the day home, and then sort of discovered/remembered that that means the disabled kids, not the daycare kids. The mission takes on the disabled kids during the day. Also, they only needed ONE helper.

I was okay with being with the disabled kids. Not AS okay as with the daycare kids, but whatever. Even though I work with Jaden, that still intimidates me, and I'm guessing that's why other people didn't volunteer right off the bat. ALONE, though?

Anyway, couldn't back down, so I headed over. (Also, Bob gave vague directions, and though I did actually find the right door, they weren't inside.) Anyway, I found them eventually, having a birthday party picnic. By the grassy sward, incidentally.

The really pretty British girl, Katie, was there briefly. I felt out of place initially, but the kids were really friendly. One of the boys with Down Syndrome wanted a picture with me. We played a game with a parachute and I helped a boy with either spina bifida or muscular dystrophy (don't remember) sit up so he could play.

I couldn't understand them at all, of course, except one girl (12 or 13) who spoke English. It didn't really matter, though.

After the birthday party and the game we went back to their room behind the clinic. I pushed a boy in a wheelchair to get there.

Inside, two of the boys were playing with toy cars, so I sat down at the same table. One of the ladies commented that it would be great if I would play with them, which gave me a bit more confidence.

I pulled out my camera at that point (always a crowd-pleaser) and one of the boys, Martin, wanted to play with it, which consisted of him pointing it nowhere and pressing the button. That was fairly entertaining for a bit, until the boy across the table wanted to use it. And he did, for a long time, taking pictures almost exclusively of the bottoms of his toy cars. Later on he took some dubious shots of kids playing in the toy kitchen. I have ten million pictures of the bottoms of toy cars. I was iffy on entrusting my camera to a motor-skills-challenged kid, but he did really well. Another boy in a wheelchair, who spoke English, used it briefly as well, and very politely gave it back when my two were being restless.

Right at the end I played with two of the last kids to leave, trying to take pictures of them while they hid. They thought this was hilarious.

The lady in charge thanked me at the end and offered that if I wanted to go on the bus that took them all home, I could, but I would have missed dinner, so I said no. It might have been fun, though.

About 3:30, they were all gone. So I was going to head over to where some others were working and see if they needed help, but Bob accosted me on the way with a trolley full of shoeboxes.

Perhaps Bob is a bit dyslexic? Anyway, he doesn't come across real clearly, so initially I thought he wanted me to visit all the Casas (houses) with this trolley of shoeboxes, to see if any of the orphans wanted one for their personal belongings. I was a bit intimidated by this. (See: Not speaking a word of Spanish.) But then he just started following along in his bike. He told me 'free boxes' was 'cahas gratis', so I said that a few times to various kids. We got rid of all the boxes, though mostly to one of the ladies who organizes clothes. Then he told me I could stop for the afternoon!

So I did.

9:55 pm
After I stopped journaling I was feeling wonderful because it was sunny and warm and I was off work early and I was in MEXICO. So I grabbed my journal and was sitting outside and writing , on the low walltop by the road. It felt pretty cool. There was a time when I would have felt self-conscious, sitting on a random wall journaling while people walked by, but not now.

Nathan and Loree and Everett dropped by after a bit. I commented that I might actually be getting a tan. Nathan put on his sunglasses because it was 'a bit bright over there'. Ha ha. Loree told us the woes of the tiny lawnmower. Everett gave me a tiny orange that ended up being super sour, and a practical joke that they were handing out to the girls in general. [I did not eat it after the first taste, despite their earnest assertions that "you're supposed to eat it whole".] I believe the boys went to the orchard in the afternoon.

Then I sat and half-journaled and half-chatted until dinner. I don't remember what we ate for dinner (oh yeah, it was rice and beans) but someone commented that a lot of the food LOOKS disgusting but after you've been working you really don't care.

Wednesday nights are church at the mission, so we walked there, and Loree and I read the copper plates in the sidewalk. They're names of events in the Bible, chronologically as you get closer to the church, in Spanish. Pretty cool.

I wasn't expecting such a big church or such a wealthy one. They gave us headsets, for English speakers, for translation. We ended up not using them.

There were also a lot of white people. Near the end numbers from the nursery flashed on the screen a few times. Kids getting fussy and their parents being paged.

The worship team was GREAT. They had a really energetic sound and sang a few songs in Spanish that I know in English, so I sang the English. That felt cool.

Dionne sang and Joel drummed in a really neat song that they put together with some people from the other groups. Awesome harmony, and they built to a great crescendo. Impressive, for the very little practice they seemed to do.

At one point I looked up at the one uncovered window on the west side of the church and there was BLINDING sunlight streaming through. How's THAT for an image of God? Sunlight in a huge white airy church. THAT was cool.

The service, despite being long and ponderous due to translation, was strangely refreshing. I just enjoyed the feeling of being in CHURCH, and the peaceful walk back. I chatted with Bryan and Loree.

I did a quick sweep of the van to make sure the lettuce spilled from the unfortunate caesar salad was all cleaned up and not bug-infested, and pilfered a granola bar, and went up to the visitors' lounge for a team meeting.

We got really off-track, but it was a good off-track, funny stories and commiseration about shared issues. A lot of people don't like Bob :P

What touched me the most was when Bryan shared his high point of the day. He said that someone at church asked who was the Southgate leader, anyway, and it made him think of what a good team we all are and how proud he is of us. Bryan very seldom says stuff like that so it means a lot when he does.

After a bit more sharing, some from the Washington group came in for a 'peanut butter run', we prayed to end the meeting, and then things got a little crazy, fun at first. We ate peanut butter toast and straight peanut butter off spoons and Michelle and I made tea (Earl Grey!).

Then the Americans introduced us to a slightly violent game [I hadn't heard of it. "I sit. In the grass. With my friend..." and it's somewhat full-contact. Maybe you have], so Bryan and the adults on our team decided that wasn't really their thing (I think) and went off to bed. I didn't really feel inclined to hang around except that someone still needed to clean up, and Joel was kind enough to help me. He's been great on this trip. Mature, great with kids, GREAT attitude about everything.

I grabbed my hoody, which is just about dry (W00T!) off the clothesline, where I hung it this morning. Carissa borrowed my new bracelet from San Diego, so I put that and my new ring from the gift shop in the jewelry bag I brought. It's getting full. [This is a cool little leather bag that they shipped my sterling silver replica of the One Ring in.]

I also bought nuts today. Mac Roca and Vanilla Brittle and some normal roasted. I may go back for more.

I don't think I wrote about orchard-weeding this morning. Carissa and Debra played Guess the Movie Line, and we got a lot done. The guy in charge spoke no English, but we actually communicated really well through gestures and Debra's 'un poquito' Spanish.

It was a better experience weeding in the morning. Cooler.

Also, I am sunburnt. And not happy. I thought I might tan while sitting outside journaling, but not BURN. My face and neck and arms. It is not terribly attractive. Loree did give me some face cream, which I think helped. Meh.

The girls want to turn off the lights, so really fast, I went out to see the stars with Carissa and they weren't as impressive as I thought they might be. We came back in and discussed middle names and I got some echinacea from Debra because...echinacea is always good.

Tomorrow, I think I will buy more nuts, perhaps a pair of earrings, and whatever snack is at break. Was burritos again today!

Okay really now. Good night.

[Okay, I know, a bit PG-13. In reference to Destiny's skirt getup.]
"Well, we know who's NOT getting raped tonight." - Debra

Mexico, Day 4

2010-07-14T19:56:00.001-06:00

July 6, 12:45 pm
I'm alone in our room and it's just about lunchtime.

I don't remember falling asleep last night. I woke up and it was dark and I was disoriented, so I think the light must still have been on when I fell asleep.

Before breakfast I ran and had a very quick shivery shower. The bobby pins have been trying to escape from my braid all morning.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs with something red in them, refried beans, and flour tortillas that some of the girls sold us. $8 for 4 dozen. And I found where the coffee is! I like it. It tastes like a cinnamon dolce latte, Destiny says.

Before Sala and after breakfast I went with Destiny and Michelle and Carissa to get babies from the nursery. The others got little girls, but mine was a little boy and he was SUPER cute. [This was Elias, Nancy's brother.] He was playing with may camera and figured out how to turn it on, set it to camera, and take about 10 pictures.

Brb lunch.

Back (1:20 now). Anyway, I managed to turn off the flash so it wasn't disruptive , though he did get squirmy so I had to take him back to the nursery. The guy in charge of work assignments [Uriel] advised us to sit near the door when we have babies so that it's not so disruptive when we leave with them, which made me feel kinda...eheh oops. I have pretty cute pictures with the little boy, though.

Then they gave out work assignments. Bob talked some about how it's important to be willing to dp anything, which made me feel guilty for not volunteering to clean toilets. I did go to the kitchen with Bryan and Joel and Zack, and a short Hispanic man named Manuel gave us stuff to do. We figured he must understand English pretty well, just not speak it, because we managed to communicate decently (right at the end he told us to go wash the car in the kitchen, which was perplexing, but he thought it was hilarious and showed us where the car actually was. BEHIND the kitchen). We washed a bunch of dishes, big ones, and put dishes away, and cleaned tile and wiped down all the tables and chairs with water and bleach.

At break the gift shop was open and I gave in and bought a bracelet. I'll be back there later, to buy tons of macadamia nuts, because they are SO good.

Also, they were selling sticky buns, with nuts, which were AWESOME. [On the trip back through Ensenada and Tijuana, July 10, we had more sticky buns. They were not as epic cold as they were hot, but Laurent still ate, like, four or something.] I bought M&Ms, two granola bars, two bottles of lemonade, and gum for $2.85. It was a happy thing.

After break we washed the van behind (not in) the kitchen, which Manuel thanked us for profusely. He kept saying, "New car!"

Joel and I headed back for the Connect 4 tournament, but no kids were signed up, so instead we swept a bunch of the paths until lunch, and I discussed Mayans and Aztecs with Joel and Zack.

I'm annoyed that I didn't bring more hoodies. I have my blue American Eagle one and my Canada one, but the Canada one isn't as warm and the sleeves aren't long enough. What annoys me more is that I was warned to bring more and ignored it. I wonder if it's stupid to pay $30 for one from the gift shop.

Oh, Debra enlightened me on last night. Apparently I was out like a light. I'm amused.

Going to the Sala for more work assignment now.

10:40 pm
I got to go to the Nuthouse kitchen! It was fun - I made Lemon Loaf mix, and doubled an already huge recipe, which was nerve-wracking since I kept losing count of things. [24 eggs in that thing! And 18 cups of flour!] Also, I attempted to make roses with icing. They turned out semi-okay, though Dorothy (the cook) made way better ones. I wish I'd gotten a picture of me making them, for Mom.

Dorothy intrigued me. She came here as a non-Christian, after her husband died, and was told she could stay if she came to Sala every morning. She eventually converted. She runs the kitchen almost like a drill seargent but at moments she's almost startlingly kind. I think I like her. There was a girl helping her, a guest who's here for the wedding this weekend, who's from England and had an AWESOME accent. She kept to herself, mostly. [This was Katie.] She's REALLY pretty.

When they were giving out assignments Dionne mentioned how much she enjoyed working at the Nuthouse in the morning and Bob told her she could go back with two others, so I jumped in the air waving my hand :P. But it worked! I was thrilled.

I was fairly intimidated about Adult Evangelism this evening. Supper was idyllic, sunny and happy, but I kind of felt the evening looming. (Re the sun: Chelsea, in the gift shop this afternoon, said it's freakishly cold in the Baja right now. Should be 30C.)

The drive there was a good 50 minutes. First we changed into (hysterical) skirt-pant-runner-hat get-ups, and there was a lot of giggling, and boys commented that they felt lucky. Ha ha. [We were supposed to wear skirts below the knee, have our hair covered as much as possible in case of lice, and wear long pants under the skirts and hoodies because it got cold. Is not an attractive combo.] Then we stood in a circle and prayed.

Anyway, the drive was fun. At once point I told Debra that I didn't feel like I wanted to go home, and she said she had moments like that too, but also GET ME OUT OF HERE moments. I concur.

When we drove into the work camp, kids swarmed the vans. SWARMED. They climbed onto the back and the sides and held on to the bumper while it was still moving, and at one point a boy opened the side door from outside and climbed in going, "Hola!"

That was intimidating, but it was okay once we got out. Little kids don't much care about language - I used "Hola", "Como te llamas", "Dios te bendiga", and they grinned and some gave me high-fives [some of them I had to teach how a high-five worked] and a lot demanded piggybacks right off the bat.

Being there with this swarm of kids was overwhelming. I want to remember this while it's still fresh in my mind, before I move too far away from the emotional impact of it.

These kids had clothes, but lots had very dirty shoes, or bare feet, or dirty clothes. There were also runny noses and a few kids I saw crying. They were also TINY. Near the end I held a little girl, 3 or 4 years old, for a long time, and she hardly weighed anything. It might not all be malnutrition, it might be that these kids are just smaller, but it still shocked me.

I walked around visiting briefly with kids for a while. Some were very shy, but one (Rosa) would NOT leave me alone and was constantly wanting a piggyback. They got a little crazy when they lined up for the picture-taking team and one girl got pushed around a lot. I gave her a hug.

When it got dark they turned on a movie (The Prodigal Son, in a weird animation-style interpretation) and the one little girl sat on my lap/got a piggyback ride for a long time until a boy I think was her brother came to get her. [Her name was something that sounded like Amalinda. A lot of the time I gave up trying to understand them when they said their names.]

I felt really sad. Have to go to bed - will finish about this evening tomorrow. The girls want to turn the lights off.

[On the topic of the mission, and how when their cup overflows they give out to the community]
"When my cup overflows, I buy a bigger cup, and put the old one in my garage, and then three years later I sell it for 25 cents at a garage sale, and someone gives me 10 cents for it." - Nathan

Mexico, Day 3

2010-07-13T18:33:00.002-06:00

July 5, 7:50 am
I think I may be under spiritual attack.

It feels like everyone knows more than me, has better judgment, is more worth listening to, is more spiritual. My reaction to any kind of advice or admonition seems to be annoyance.

8:15 am
We're sitting in Sala now. Just sang 3 songs, about half English and Spanish each. Now there's a man talking, via a girl translating into English. He's sharing about the teenage boys he lives with [he's a house parent].

From Deuteronomy 11:13 and 18-24. He says, "Teach your children these things again and again and again. Love the Lord your God. If you obey, you won't lack anything."

1:35 pm
Back in our room after lunch.

The morning was actually great. One of the staff here, Chelsea, showed us the entire missions. They do a TON here. Special needs kids, elementary school, special needs babies, nursery, daycare, printing shop, clinic, and orchard. We sampled the macadamia nuts, which was YUM. The tiny babies are super cute. There's a six-month-old in the nursery named Lucy and she has HUGE eyes.

I asked what kind of special needs kids they have, but it sounds like no autistic kids. Down Syndrome, spina bifida, muscular dystrophy, and then a few generally mentally disabled.

I'm a bit excited for this afternoon. There's tons of jobs, like clothes and the newsletter mailing and the nut processing and I'm sure tons of other stuff. Right now I'm on a bottom bunk with Carissa after lunch, having changed into capris and runners. My feet got VERY dirty, along with my work sandals, but I'm okay with it. I'm only working 4 more weeks.

Between 11 and 11:20 there was break, and the fire department was selling burritos for a fundraiser. I had 3 - nice and filling after the single pancake I had for breakfast. It was a fun little interlude. Joel taught us a key trick in which you snap your fingers on your lanyard and the key springs up [theoretically. I did not succeed at this much] into your hand.

Chelsea is really pretty. [I really wondered if she had a hard time of it in Mexico, being pretty and blonde, with getting rude comments from men.] I don't like having to have my hair up and back all the time, but I'll get over it.

I loved sampling the flavors of nuts. I really want to buy a whole bunch, for gifts and for myself. The gift shop is apparently only open Tuesday-Friday 11-11:20. [It was also open 1:30-2.]

My mood is a bit more upbeat now. I just about fell asleep in Sala this morning but the tour woke me up. I think I'll leave some of the clothes I brought here, since they are clearly able to put them to good use. They were saying earlier that if anyone wanted to donate their grad dress, that would be great.

(Random: I got salad dressing on my striped capris yesterday at lunch. Go me. Hope it washes out.)

4:40 pm
Just back from shoveling out weeds at the orchard. My feet and legs are super dirty and my shoes are all full of sandy dirt. [Baja California is SO SANDY. Dirt got in EVERYTHING.] It was hot, but it surprised me that we only worked for a little under 2 hours. 2:30-almost 4:30.

I'm still struggling a little with resentment when given unasked-for advice.

Dinner in 10 min. I'm already tired, but I can't believe Monday is nearly over. Tonight we'll babysit some of the kids and then crash again.

It seems like we're all still a little uncertain of what to do here. I'm looking forward to when we can all relax a little and goof around a bit more.

9:35
Some goofy giggling now! We're all fairly overtired.

Tonight we babysat the kids in each 'house' of the orphanage. There are between 9 and 12 kids in each, and ours was House 5. I was with Destiny, but otherwise no one from Southgate.

When we walked in they were all sitting there, shy, and then one lady pulled out two recorders and they thought that was pretty cool. There was also a couple with a printer for taking pictures of the kids and printing them right there, which the kids also liked.

And then - high point! - I sat down on the floor and patted it and the three older girls - 12, 12 and 13 - sat down and I taught them Stella Ella Ola [clapping game], just by gesturing. It was FUN. The girl were named Rosa, Yiria, Ana Maria. [Every time I said her name I thought of Anamaria from PotC.] One of the other ladies called me 'wonderful' for getting them out of their shells.

Then...they all escaped.

Originally they were on the playground (and I was playing with little boys and one of them accidentally conked me in the nose with his head. I got a brief nosebleed) but then...they scattered. I had no idea which kids were ours and of course we can't communicate with them. We got it figured out eventually, but it felt like a gong show. The boys, teens, from house 7, were playing soccer with other people, and the kids were baiting a random tied-up dog. I just watched them for a while to make sure they didn't go anywhere else, and SOMEHOW we rounded them all up and ended with the right number of the right kids.

After that we watched a movie with them (Mary-Kate and Ashley. In English. I don't think they understood a word) and the little kids climbed all over Destiny. I sat by Yiria, who was very quiet and clearly wanted to watch. I let her scroll through the pictures on my camera until it died. The other kids took TONS of pictures on Destiny's and another girl's [Alyssa's] camera.

We sent them to bed around 8:30, and the house parents got home at 9. Yiria gave me a hug before we left. I got Destiny to take a picture of us. All the kids thought she was hilarious. [She is :D]

Now we're back and all giddy and tired. Apparently I look 'doe-eyed' with no glasses on. We have also eaten the last of the pretzels from the car ride, and we didn't meet as a team because it was too late. Michelle and Destiny are doing the splits again. I believe we are about to turn off the lights.

Today felt like a big success. I chatted some with the Americans and managed to be a little outgoing and not quite so don't-talk-to-me introverted. It felt good.

Quote: "I know why they don't use vacuum cleaners around here. Some day someone's going to start vacuuming the dust and just never stop and the entirety of Baja California will disappear." - Liz, from Michigan

Mexico, Day 2

2010-07-12T12:33:00.003-06:00

July 4, 8:40 am
Slept pretty much the whole night through. Destiny said she kicked and stuff but I never felt it. So that was a good 10 hours of sleep, much needed after the nothing I got the night before.

Loree woke me up at 7:30 and I showered, groggily, and went down for the hotel continental breakfast. (Why is it called 'continental'?)

The hotel. There's a permit in the elevator, which SQUEALED when we tried it, that expired a year ago. There were beetles in the bathroom last night. Breakfast was meager and suspicious, and according to some our room smells like weed. Not to mention that according to Nathan and Bryan, we got a lot of grief trying to check in.

I don't know how they do any business on Hotel Circle. All the other hotels, I'm sure, are better.

Now I'm packed up. Nearly forgot Sir Marshmallow (would NOT have been good) but I think I have everything now. My hair doesn't look awesome but I'll deal. With bobby pins and a hairband.

We're sitting and talking now. Carissa is telling us about her job-hunting experiences.

12:20 pm
Bryan configured a meetup with a group from Washington who are going to the same place, thinking it would be easier because they've been down here before and know where they're going.

Now that we've spent two hours looking for somewhere to buy our FMT tourist cards because Harv (the youth pastor of the other group) didn't remember we needed them, I'm somewhat wondering if it was not such a good plan. We crossed the border just fine, was easier than we thought, but we just could not find the place we were looking for.

Two hours of driving around Tijuana later, trying not to lose any of our four-van convoy, after Laurent, Nathan and Harv went looking for the Migracion office while we parked in what we thought was right but wasn't, we've decided to plead ignorance and just keep going. It wasn't fun, waiting for them to get back, and I actually had the thought that I want to go home.

Tijuana is not tourist Mexico. There are whole hillsides with houses made of cardboard and plywood and plastic bags. I feel a little numb to the poverty. It's unsettling to be unable to read the Spanish signs.

It also looks like it's an election day, so there are tons of police [with CRAZY BAZOOKA RIFLES] out.

Now we're back on the highway. Our van is first in the convoy. Harv took a wrong turn so he's going to meet us in Ensenada.

1:10 pm
Finally on the highway (after an erroneous trip to somewhere else) to Ensenada, right next to the ocean. There are shadowy islands out silhouetted against the sky.

6:05 pm
Still driving.

We stopped, after a long drive through Ensenada and some doubt about the location of where we were going, at Costco, and at lunch. Also, there's a HUGE Mexican flag in Ensenada.

Lunch was sold in a LOUD, crowded, semi-open-air add-on to Costco. I got a caesar salad and a churro (twisty roll with cinnamon).

Our van has been fun. The boys are entertaining, especially after our stop for gas just now. Joel and Everett had issues with coke bottle caps and Jordan got a gigantic bottle of Fanta. [2.5 liters]

We're supposedly quite close to Vicente Guerrero. I can't decide if I feel excitement of trepidation.

8:20 pm
Sitting in the Sala (chapel) at the mission, waiting for orientation to begin.

We arrived in Vicente Guerrero and found the mission without difficulty. A guy (Bob?) meet us right away and got us into rooms. For some reason he thought we were 'Steve M's group'. All the girls but Dionne (who is with Laurent) are in the same room, with black metal bunk beds. There were fitted sheets already on the mattresses (mine was yellow and flowery) so I didn't really need mine, though I put it on anyway.

We went to a little taco stand, a canopy over dirt by the side of the road, for dinner. Bryan ordered us all tacos, 2 each, that came out to $40 USD for 30 tacos. One guy wandered around talking to us a bit (he kept saying "Taco de mice!" to me) but I didn't understand anything. I think Carissa's been getting some whistles, and he called Destiny 'benita'. Nothing on me yet :P

We've seen several mangy dogs. Michelle thinks they're super cute. One was hanging around while we ate tacos.

Then we came back and settled in a little more, and I discovered I didn't actually bring a belt. [Loree lent me one. Thanks Loree :)] Now we're sitting in the chapel, which is actually fairly large, and I'm half-listening to Bob, the leader, explain a couple of things. He was discussing a Connect 4 tournament for the kids just now. He's starting to talk to all of us.

[Notes from orientation]
1 group from Washington (14)
1 group from Michigan/Florida (21)
Bob came here when he was 52, has been here for 7 years, and is married to a Mexican lady with a son. It sounds like God definitely switched up the plans he had for himself.
No toilet paper in the toilets.
Water's supposedly safe to drink.
Report any leaks in our buildings.
Dress code: No short shorts, no midriff showing, no tank tops. Guys need shirts at all times.
Babies can be signed out of the nursery at 7:50 every morning but if they get fussy/start laughing too loud, take them back. No kissing babies on the lips. [People DID that?]
No shorts in Sala, and no food in Sala.
Keep the visitors' lounge clean.
Don't move furniture without asking.
Hang towels on clothesline, not railings. Pegs are under the stairs.
Go into town in groups, with a male escort if you're female.
Wash your hands a lot.
We're responsible for clearing our table at meals. Breakfast at 7, lunch at 1, dinner 5. 15 minutes per meal.
Quiet time 10 pm.
11 pm lights out.
Optional tour of the mens' shelter Friday afternoon.
Showers no longer than 3 minutes.
There are all kinds of jobs - orchard tending, groundskeeping, kids, kitchen...
I'm on lunch prep on Thursday.

10:00 pm
After orientation we had a brief group meeting about how we're feeling about the trip and stuff. I'm not feeling super emotional about anything, though I think some others are. Spiritual inadequacy is coming back to haunt me a bit. Should I be feeling something?

I also feel a little inadequate in general. (It's after 10 and people are wanting to go to bed so I'll go fast.) I'm pretty sure my hair will look awful this week. I really enjoy when Bryan shares in our meetings because he's always so humble. I'm tempted to think I'm failing because I'm not praying or reading my Bible as much as some, or my journal entries aren't spiritual enough, or enough about God. I don't know. I WANT to be a servant, and I'm ready for God to use me, but I can pretend spirituality I don't feel. Should I feel it? Faith first, then facts, then feelings, I guess.

I'm writing in circles, a bit. I want to read my book but maybe I should read my Bible.

Quote: "It's a Mexican cricket. It might steal your wallet." - Nathan

Home! and Mexico, day 1.

2010-07-11T23:38:00.004-06:00

I got home tonight at about 8 pm after a long day of flying. I have a cold and my ears still hurt from the taking off/landing of the planes, but I'm otherwise a happy camper. Keep going if you want excerpts (lightly edited, with editorial notes in brackets] from my journal of day 1 of the Mexico Missions Trip 2010.

July 3, 2010, 5:40 am
Sitting watching the line of shadow where the sun comes up over the airport. My family's gone--Susie and Grace got up when we left at 3:45 am and came to say goodbye with my parents. We're through security now. So far, Laurent's had to throw out a mini-knife that belonged to Dionne's grandma, Dionne got searched because of the decorating nails in her wallet, and I've paid way too much for some yogurt-covered almonds. Sitting by Destiny on the plane. That will be fun. [Editorial comment: love you, Destiny :D]

6:50 am
We took off 20 minutes ago.

I didn't sleep much last night. My grand plans to alter my sleep pattern the week before we left fizzled and died. Dad suggested we watch 24, so we did, and then I said goodbye to Jamie and then I went to bed.

[switch to pencil] My pen just died. My little green pen. :( Guess I'll have to steal one from the hotel.

Anyway, I rolled around a bunch and got up once to put plastic bags for laundry in my suitcase. I must have slept, because I woke up when my alarm went.

Came with parents and girls to the airport. I saw the gang as soon as I walked in, and Bryan and Nathan arrived last (Nathan's fault). Before boarding we hit Tim Hortons and the bathrooms in our airport clusters. [the groups we made for making sure we had everyone in the airports.]

I'm in seat 28A and the clouds are obstructing any view of the Rockies we're crossing. I did get some cool shots of the early morning sun out the plane window.

So far, I am cautiously optimistic. Haven't forgotten/misplaced anything. Am getting along well. I started watching How to Train Your Dragon in the seatback TV but I think I'll read my book now.

Nearly 9 am (PST now)
Dude, is it seriously not even 9 am? It feels like it should be at least noon.

Just came through a whirlwind stopover in Vancouver, characterized by a lot of following the US flag symbol. We cleared customs fine and made it to the departure gate as they were boarding, in plenty of time.

Now there is bright sun through the window and Destiny is sleeping beside me. I'm listening to XM classical radio. [Did some sudoku, too.] Also considering maybe some sleep myself, if possible. [Didn't work. I'm too tall to lean over and rest my head on the folding tray. Airplanes are awkward to sleep on.]

Sarah came to see us off, earlier. She gave me a nice long hug and I told her to please pray that I don't get too wrapped up in ME. [thanks, Sarah!] Dad also said that they wouldn't watch any 24 without me.

Just passed a gorgeous snow-crusted mountain poking above the clouds. Flying into Vancouver was nearly surreal because of the scenery. I got a wonderful picture of the islands in the fog. It's so awesome it's inspiring.

These mountains are incredible. All is indistinct blue and clouds, and then all of a sudden one of these monsters looms up. I wish I could better tell how big they are - a sense of scale is hard to have from an airplane window. Oh, it's Mt. St. Helens! They just announced over the intercom along with an update on the world cup.

Just after 9 now. Today might just last eternity.

3:20 pm
It feels like evening. We're in our Super 8 room after an interminable wait in the hot sun while Bryan and Nathan figured out reservation difficulties. Destiny is talking about how she hasn't slept in 48 hours. Michelle is unpacking EVERYTHING at once. I finally got my hair up and out of my face.

We ate lunch after waiting for some issues with the rental vans to be worked out [also played Guess the Movie Line while waiting], at Jack in the Box. [GROSS. GREASY. Not doing that again except for the American iced tea which I like.] Afterward we went to the grocery store briefly for some snacks for tomorrow. Pretzels, pretzel twists [Bryan really likes pretzels], fruit snacks, granola bars, water.

I think we're going out soon. I was pretty tired earlier but A/C and water splashed on my face feel better.

10:10 pm
I just saw the most epic set of fireworks I have witnessed in my entire life.

We were visiting a beach by a hotel on a whim and someone had heard from someone else that fireworks were going to be set off in the harbor. [The place was called Mission Bay.] We hung around until after it got dark, but nothing happened apart from a couple of errant firecrackers and I was fairly certain nothing was going to happen.

And then it DID. In a BIG WAY.

They lasted 22 minutes. 3 or 4 times we thought they'd ended and people applauded, but then there was an unbelieveable unmistakeable explosive ending. I have never seen so many so big all at once - and it's not even on July 4 yet! They were shaped like chandeliers, fireflies, planets, hearts, a happy face - I was mesmerized. It was awesome. I have a few pictures but they fail to capture it.

This afternoon we shopped in the tourist area of San Diego. I got a really pretty bracelet that looks similar to the Pandora ones, with blue beads, and even haggled the seller down to $20 from $24.

Also there was A. TON. of jewelry. SO MUCH. I could easily spend the entirety of my spending cash on jewelry. I almost bought a blue cross pendant, too. Did buy a mini tin of raspberry lemonade powder. Yum.

Some of the group lost interest in shopping [and walking]. I could have continued further, but we'd agreed to meet and go for dinner at 6.

We ate at a place called Fred's. Free chips + salsa + refills on American iced tea. I LOVE American iced tea. I ate about half of my actual meal. Nathan was daring people to walk up to a random stranger sitting in the restaurant, dip a chip in their salsa and say, "Eugh, this has cilantro." Loree did, but only to Jordan. I laughed a lot. Dinner was lovely. I really enjoy being with everyone.

Afterward we headed to the waterfront, and you know the rest.

Now I'm sitting in bed (sharing w/ Destiny) after jamming things into my suitcase in a slightly reconfigured manner to account for pulling out things for tomorrow morning. [This evening Michelle also killed four bugs in the bathroom. The Super 8 wasn't top-notch.] Waking at 7:30 because we need to make the hotel breakfast. We're meeting a group from Washington to convoy.

Tomorrow evening, the missions part of the trip begins. I hope the awesomeness doesn't stop.

(A quote from Bryan, at 8:45 pm while waiting for fireworks and watching the lame ones people across the harbor were setting off in their back yards: "Oh! I saw some Roman Candles. NOW we're partying.")

Quick Review: The Last Airbender

2010-07-02T16:32:00.005-06:00

This afternoon I went with (all) my siblings to see The Last Airbender.

I've never seen any of the TV show, though my younger siblings watch it, so I was going into the movie knowing nothing but what they told me. And OH BOY DID THEY DO A BUNCH OF TELLING. The movie starts with telling. Katara, who is a teenage girl from a Water elemental village, is all, "Blah blah blah my mother's dead my father's away my brother's not a very good hunter," cut to Sokka, who is indeed the caricature of a bad hunter. (Pause here to wonder why the movie couldn't have shown us this with a couple seconds of him failing to stab a small animal or something.)

Katara and Sokka find a random globe of ice that Katara manages to break, and it reveals an oversized beaver-like animal that can levitate (it reminded me of a Pokemon) and an unconscious boy. With tattoos. Cut to Katara and Sokka back at the village, evil people show up and demand to have the boy, the boy goes.

Strike #2: Katara goes, "He's our responsibility we have to save him!" Okay, you spoke about three words to this boy, he went of his own free will, and if your brother is actually as bad a hunter as you say he is, you have other things to be worried about. But nope, off they go on the levitating beaver to save the boy, Aang.

This was about the first fifteen minutes. It didn't get much better.

My biggest complaint was the clunky dialogue. Some of these characters might actually have, I dunno, some individuality, but it was all eclipsed by the awkward script. Best (worst) line: "It's time to show the Fire Nation that we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs." No, really?

The characterization--and this might be the fault of the script--was also not up to par. Aang, the Avatar, came across as a completely humorless, weirdly mature 12-year-old boy. He never cracked a smile once. Sokka was overdone, always saying things like, "Get behind me!" and never succeeding at really doing much. Katara had a teeny bit of character growth, but her devotion to Aang was still bizarre and contrived. The rest of the characters were almost completely flat and predictable.

Visually, The Last Airbender did score a few points. At a few junctures it was pretty obvious that they used a green screen, but the elemental effects were cool (even if the fantasy author in me was wondering how the element-benders manage to stay alive in a war when someone could just come up from behind and stab them while they were executing those fancy kung-fu moves) and the costumes were well done. I found the various ethnicities of the different nations intriguing, as well as the overall imagery used for each, like the cast-iron-looking ships of the Fire Nation. The levitating beaver, though, I dunno whose idea that was but it was odd.

Things that would improve the next movie (which I hear Shyamalan is working on now--PLEASE let him pay someone ELSE to write the script): 1) A few laughs. Honestly, hardly anyone cracks a smile and there were maybe two lines that were even meant to be wry or lighthearted. ("You never asked. Only your grandmother did." might have been better if it didn't come right at the end of a very contrived 'romance' scene.) 2) Some dialogue that flows naturally without being obviously meant to instruct the viewer. Also, no dramatic pauses, please, or limit them to one every few sentences, not every few words. And 3) No more voiceover narration! Lose the voiceover narration! I will mail you cookies!

If I were giving it stars out of five, The Last Airbender would get one. My younger siblings seemed to enjoy it, though, so perhaps familiarity with the TV show breeds appreciation.

I did have fun mimicking Potter Puppet Pals outside afterward, however. (I was Hermione.)

Counting

2010-07-01T09:31:00.003-06:00

On April 1st, 2010, I wrote numbers of days on my calendar to help me get through the next three months. March had just ended and I remember feeling like I was on the home stretch...just the very, very beginning of the home stretch.

And now it's July 1st.

This year so far, I've done a lot of wishing time would pass. If I'm on a seven-hour shift at work it's how long until lunch, how long until coffee break, how long until I can go home. During the week it's how long until the weekend. I'm shocked that it's July 1st and I'm leaving for Mexico in two days, and that it's actually the summer. I never thought it would get here, when I was mired the depths of February.

There are still numbers written on my calendar. I'm counting the number of weeks left that I work, and the number of days until my Texan comes to see me, and I'm tempted to start counting the days until my residence move-in, which is September 5.

But I also feel a little like I need to stop counting. Maybe I need to stop looking at the clock or the calendar at all. Because things are happening now, every day, that I don't want to miss. (Sentimentality aside, however, how exactly does one 'savor a moment'? I've tried. Usually it amounts to a slightly panicky feeling of "oh no, it's leaving!") I clue in now, when I wake up in the morning not looking forward to something, that it's going to be over really fast, and every night when I go to bed I marvel at how short a time it was since I was last getting ready for bed.

The home stretch is going to end. I'm going to Mexico. I'm coming back and working for four weeks, spending a week with my Texan, spending three weeks getting ready for Ambrose, and then it'll be here. HERE. And I'LL be THERE.

I always thought that story about the boy with the ball of golden string who could pull on it a little and make time pass faster was, of fairy stories, significantly more obnoxious than the others. But it is inescapably true.

Mexico, July 3-11 2010

2010-06-21T14:57:00.004-06:00

The first missions trip I went on was in the summer of 2007. Sixteen of us, about half youth and half adults, went to Costa Rica and stayed at the Capernwray Bible school in San Jose. We drywalled a tiny church (the size of my bedroom) and painted one large room of a women's shelter green. I was fifteen, about to turn sixteen, and as far as I can remember my primary motivation for going on the trip was that it sounded fun and my friends were going. I bought a camera, got a passport, swam in the Pacific while it rained, and went on a plane for the first time. I also experienced some interpersonal difficulties that I don't recall dealing with very well, and generally didn't do much except what was expected of me. However, as a first missions trip experience, I'm glad I was there.

The second missions trip I went on, in August 2008, was spent half in Quebec City, QC, and half in a tiny town (also in Quebec) right near the US border, called Noyan. During the first six days, while we helped with the initiative Quebec Espoir (Hope for Quebec) in Quebec City, I felt quite insecure and isolated; most of the people we interacted with were speaking French, and the extent of the outreach I could manage was to hold out a Gospel of John to people on the street and say, "Un cadeau?" ("A gift?"). Our days of outreach were fairly uncertain and spur-of-the-moment affairs, a setup that, as an anxious Type A personality, I didn't respond to well. During these six days, it poured rain and I soaked my shoes, I saw a master Jack Sparrow impersonator, I developed a faux French accent, and I turned 17.

During the second six days, the trip improved for me. Despite being horribly homesick and nursing a fairly bad attitude left over from the first six days, I enjoyed the time we spent nailing siding to Noyan's new church. I also went water-skiing (or tried) for the first time, received a can of real Quebec maple syrup, went to a hot air balloon fair, watched Sahara, and got a blister from using a hammer. Even reflecting back on the trip on the plane as we headed home, I felt like I'd been there mostly for myself and that had somewhat sabotaged the experience.

I'm leaving for Vicente Guerrero, Baja, Mexico in 12 days, to serve in an orphanage, and this is what I've been reflecting on. My initial motivation for signing up for this trip was a sense of, "Oh, I've got it now. I know it's not for fun and I'll be able to really step outside myself now that I know what NOT to do." I'm not sure this is true, and that I won't come home from Mexico with some new additions to the How Not to Serve Selflessly list, but I do feel that I have some perspective on the way short-term missions affects an individual and what the best way to deal with some of that is. But I'm intimidated.

I'm scared that I'll forget to pack something essential. (I forgot my passport in the printer for Costa Rica, and my dad had to drive back from the airport and get it for me before our flight took off.) I'm scared that I'll be completely unprepared for some unforeseen aspect of the trip. I'm scared that I'll lose perspective and fail at being the selfless, eager-to-serve person I want to be. I'm scared of feeling inadequate, stupid, shallow or ineffective.

Prayer for all of this would be amazing. I've been praying about it myself, but particularly from July 3-11, I'd really appreciate the support.

It's not that I'm not excited. I bought new books for the plane ride and am collecting a little stack of things to bring on my dresser, and I'm ecstatic about the group of people with whom I get to spend a week. (I'm not just saying that because some of them will probably read this.) But I know now that short-term missions isn't a vacation or a thrill ride.

It might not be pretty. But it'll be worth it.

Driving

2010-05-23T20:56:00.006-06:00

I'm hoping to have my driver's license by the beginning of August, so recently I've been getting behind the wheel a bit more. The difficulties that I've been having are almost all small things that I never would have anticipated - stopping, for instance. The first time I stopped I stomped the brake so hard it was whiplash-inducing. I have graduated to slowing for traffic lights with success, and am presently struggling with lane changes. (I'm CONVINCED that I'm missing something. I don't care if I've mirror-checked and shoulder-checked! Someone is going to run into me!) I guess this is a rite of passage into adulthood? Learning to tell between the gas and the brake?

At some point I'm also going to have to buckle down and actually get my taxes done, another delightful part of entering the age of majority. Last Sunday afternoon I forgot I was supposed to work and nobody was responsible for my schedule or my subsequent apology but me. It's a little uncomfortable to be accountable for these larger things; to keep track of my finances, to make sure I know where to be and when and how I'm getting there, to be the person I'm accountable to.

If I think about it too much, I get intimidated considering how much more independent I'll be next year. I'll have to balance a budget, get homework in on time, work and save, and make sure I do random things like go to the dentist. I'll have to make my own grocery list and pay for my own food - what I don't eat in the cafeteria, where I'll have to watch the balance on my student card. I'll have to make sure my credit card is paid off. It's startling how much I didn't realize I had to be aware of, to be independent. It makes me uncertain that I want to be, sometimes.

In essence, a lot of the time I find myself saying, "I guess I'm driving?" instead of, "I want to drive!"

Constantine I

2010-05-09T14:17:00.005-06:00

I got my first laptop around Christmas of 2007. It would not be an exaggeration to say I have it with me in almost every single picture. It (he, Fitzwilliam I) was a white iBook G4 that I received secondhand from my uncle, and the feeling of having a laptop for the first time was similar to what I imagine getting your first car must feel like. Since February of 2007 I'd been spending a lot of time instant messaging various online friends, and eventually got to the point where I was dissatisfied with having only an hour of time on the computer per day (our family rule at the time). I worked out a deal with my mom, and every night I'd do the supper dishes and make breakfast for the next morning, and often spend the rest of the evening on the computer. My internet acquaintances have, I'm sure, very clear memories of the times I had to beg and plead to use the computer and be forever negotiating with my siblings for fifteen more minutes and the like. It was a huge relief to finally be able to do my own thing where I wanted and when I wanted. To this day, NOBODY but me uses my computer. (Well, okay, with a very few exceptions.) It was almost literally my best friend.

I enjoyed Fitzwilliam I until April of 2008, when water got splashed on his keyboard and he spluttered and died over the course of a (very unpleasant) few days. I cried. A lot. My uncle tried valiantly to fix him, but water is to electronics as Kryptonite is to Superman, and Fitzwilliam I was relegated to the back of my closet, where he still resides. I spent a month reliving the begging-and-pleading-for-15-more-minutes days.

In May of 2008, my mom (fankoo mommy) bought me another laptop, also a secondhand iBook G4, who was christened Fitzwilliam II and kept far away from any spillable liquid. Perhaps due to how much more careful I was, Fitzwilliam II lasted all the way until April of 2010, a respectable two years for an already secondhand laptop. When his screen began dying with increasing frequency, it was agreed that money spent fixing him was not money spent well, and on May 7, 2010, Constantine (Connie for short, after Robin McKinley's vampire) arrived in the mail.
Connie has a webcam.

He is a white MacBook, widescreen, brand spanking new, and already sporting several stylish Fringe-themed desktops. I have reveled in his ability to play flawless video (by viewing, over and over, the preview for the Fringe finale) and played with the iPhoto face recognition technology, and watched the strange ways PhotoBooth can deform my pictures, and moved all my music into iTunes. Connie also comes with a 1-year warranty, which I may end up extending.

I am very happy. Long live Connie. (Vampires are immortal, you know.)

Countdowns

2010-04-09T23:26:00.002-06:00

On April 3rd, I realized that it was exactly 3 months until our missions team to Mexico (which I am on) leaves on July 3rd. Since then, I have been fervently wishing it were the end of June already: the beginning of my (fun!) summer, and almost the end of my working year. In the spirit of enjoying life how it is...but also looking forward to things coming:

22 days until I take the SAT on May 1st (and move one step closer to acceptance into university).

75 days until I leave for Mexico on July 3rd (returning home on the 11th).

122 days until I see potr/Jamie on August 9th!

126 days until my birthday on August 13th (it's a Friday again this year. It was a Friday the year I turned 13, too).

151 days until September 7th, the day I move into residence at Ambrose.

(And 6 days until the next episode of Fringe, White Tulip. Simple pleasures.)

Excuses, excuses...

2010-03-26T13:55:00.003-06:00

My blogging constancy lately has been about the same as my journaling constancy, which makes sense, since they come to the same thing--one more private and one less so.

I got a gorgeous journal for my birthday in August. It looks like a ship's log and is made of leather and thick, parchment-y paper, and it sat in my room for months unused because I couldn't make up my mind about what epic purpose suited this wonderful thing. Eventually I decided that I was being silly and started using it as a journal, which I solemnly promised myself I would not neglect.

Ha ha.

What you have to understand about this (and what is part of my feeble defence) is that I am supremely bad at journaling. I'd like to think I'm good at it, since yeesh, if I can't write about my own life, what CAN I write about? But my entries tend to descend into tedium like, "Today I woke up and did not want to get out of bed. But I did. Then I went to work. Zia told me she hated Piglet. My feet have been hurting after work lately. Anyway, it was a long day and" then I'm distracted by something else. I did manage to be semi-consistent for about a month, and then I can cite to you a host of excuses about ceasing to be consistent, but the point is, I've been horrible at any degree of regularity since about October. I meant to memorize quizzing verses. I meant to play the piano every day. I meant to learn some degree of Spanish for the missions trip in July.

I meant to...wait for it...blog! Consistently!

The reality is that until I'm done working shifts at two jobs, shifts that are different every week, and juggling that with church involvement and studying for the SAT in May (which I should be doing as I am typing this) and getting the last bits of my university application ready to go (if you're curious, that's going well and I have residence acceptance. Also the director of the English Lit program emailed me and we used Elvish. I feel at home already) I won't be regular or consistent at anything except that necessary stuff.

It's not too much longer; we're almost into April (oops. Header.) and come next year I'm pretty sure I'll HAVE to blog or I'll be bombarded with questions about how university is going.

All that to say, please forgive me. I'll be here. If you're really curious about how I'm doing, fire me off an email or message me on facebook. But I can promise nothing, blog-wise, of a terribly excellent degree of regularity.

Tolerance in Action

2010-02-11T11:31:00.004-07:00

A couple days ago a blog I follow, FringeTelevision, posted some photos of Anna Torv (who plays Olivia Dunham in Fringe) from Esquire's "Women We Love" feature that FringeTelevision described as 'racy' and my mom described as 'salacious'. (I had to look it up too. My mommy is smart.) There were mixed comments on the post, some disappointed that Anna had allowed herself to be portrayed that way, some supportive. I was the eighth commenter, and I said:

It seems ridiculously incongruous to see these in conjuction with the Olivia we know from Fringe.

It's not that I'm surprised, or that I'm really disappointed in Anna Torv, but I object to the way she's sexualized like this. Is this really the only thing we look for in 'women we love'? What about intelligence or confidence or humor? Are near-nude photos the only thing that will make us sit up and pay attention? I think not.

Given what a few of the previous commenters had said, I surmised that I was not without support in my opinion. Another reader said she'd been "endorsing [Anna Torv/Olivia Dunham] as a role model to my teenage girls. Now she is just another Hollywood nobody who hasn't the good sense to retain part of herself, for her and her husband."

However, immediately after my comment, two others added their opinions:

I'd love to see the reaction you conservative nutjobs would have had if you saw Anna on "Mistresses" where she shared a steamy kiss with... a woman! (gasp!) Wake up, people. It's 2010; teenagers on myspace post more suggestive photos than the ones of Anna in Esquire. Just because she portrays a buttoned-down FBI agent, doesn't mean she is one. These pictures are tastefully done, playful, and show Anna for the stunning beauty she truly is. I will appreciate the photos for all you uptight people that can't.

and

You people live in a highly disturbed state of mind.Anna is an actress not some doll that you can dress up and pretend to be something you like.And when someone touches your doll, you start to feel very offended about it.Stop filming your life, yes the show is great, but Anna is a living person and she can do whatever she wants without asking some old fashioned idiots like you for approval.

Fun stuff. Now I'm a 'conservative nutjob', I'm 'uptight', I 'live in a highly disturbed state of mind', and I'm an 'old fashioned idiot'. Surmising that from their opinions, these individuals supported the popular definition of 'freedom of expression', I came to the not unreasonable conclusion that they probably also bought into another popular 'value'...

Boy. Apologies for expressing my opinion. Thanks for your thoughtful tolerance of my views! :D

Emphasis added.

Yay tolerance?

UPDATE: I've now also been accused of ignorance regarding what goes on in magazines. Aren't they just so polite?

Know what I just realized?

2010-01-20T22:38:00.002-07:00

I totally forgot to change to the winter header.

Also, it was yesterday that the Fringe episode was Johari Window, right? So why is What Lies Below showing TOMORROW if Fringe is on every Thursday?

Also, it has almost been a month since Christmas.

Also, in less than a month I will be 18 AND A HALF.

Who was the genius who came up with this PASSAGE OF TIME thing?

As of January 19...

2010-01-19T23:52:00.002-07:00

(Have to get this in before it's actually January 20.)

Have read (3): Mad Ship by Robin Hobb, Monster by Frank Peretti, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams.

Am reading (2): When God Writes Your Love Story by Eric and Leslie Ludy, Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.

Have on hold at the library and intend to read (1): Ship of Destiny by Robin Hobb.

Monster: Perhaps my expectations for this book were too high. I read all Peretti's kids' books when I was littler and managed to get thoroughly creeped out by almost every single one. Monster, however, took quite some time to enter a plot that actually seemed multifaceted and moving, and the only time it was gripping enough to have me unwilling to put it down was for about the last chapter. I also had trouble visualizing the characters, many of whom had rather bland names and personalities. The evolution/creation angle was satisfying, however, and clearly Peretti did his research.

Verdict: Entertaining but not memorable in an imprinted-on-my-brain kind of way. I still have vivid mental images from his kids' books. Kept me reading for a couple days.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: I find it greatly satisfying to finally know the origin of, "So long and thanks for all the fish." Hitchhiker's Guide kept me reading with some giggle-out-loud dialogue and the most bizarre plot twists I have ever seen. (See: depressed robot convincing spaceship to commit suicide.) I have yet to decide if it had any deeper life meaning or if it merely resembled something along the lines of Monty Python - highly quotable and clever but mostly for entertainment purposes. I do not yet know if I will read the sequel(s?).

Verdict: Was finished in less than 24 hours; that only happens when I like it. Made me want to see the movie and possibly read more.

January 14 resolution

2010-01-14T19:56:00.003-07:00

As opposed to, you know, New Year's.

I resolve to actually keep track of the books I read. I used to have a list specifically for the purpose, in my school binder, but that was when I went through books like candy and found it chiefly more of a nuisance than anything to have to write them down when I was finished with them.

So, in the spirit of this:

Have read (1): Mad Ship by Robin Hobb

Am reading (1): Monster by Frank Peretti

Have out from the library and intend to read (2): The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, and When God Writes Your Love Story by Eric and Leslie Ludy. (I anticipate the last to be along the lines of I Kissed Dating Goodbye by Josh Harris, so if it's fairly repetitive I may not finish it.)

Also, I'm in the middle of watching Firefly (sci-fi TV show canceled after 11 aired episodes) and I have recently acquired from the library discard pile a book of art from The Fellowship of the Ring (movie), The Hobbit graphic novel, and an old collection of Beethoven piano solos. We'll see if I actually get around to learning any.

Highlights of Denver

2010-01-07T23:06:00.003-07:00

Staying up late enough for Joy to get incoherent and start talking about how raisins aren’t actually dried grapes, and if we keep calling them that, we won’t know a real grape when we see one.

Learning that it’s impolite to ask someone their profession in Toledo.

Alternating episodes of Fringe, episodes of Firefly, and episodes of exclaiming over the oddities of J. J. Abrams.

Hearing about Joy’s trip to the front desk to get butter and her subsequent adventure through a black-tie party.

Discussing Phantom Grey spoilers with Jamie on MSN while sitting next to her.

Staying up so late that after the lights went out, I was asleep before I had time to roll over.

Burning grilled cheese sandwiches.

Skype and webcam with The Caribou.

Waking up to Joy with sharpie tattoos all over her left arm and a hairdo like Helena Bonham Carter.

Eating…something…that Jamie made out of leftover cranberry cereal, popcorn, milk and brown sugar.

Finishing two bags of Hint of Lime Tostitos.

All sitting in the same room, on the same bed, on our laptops.

Baking cookies with mint M&Ms and chocolate covered cacao pieces.

Being made fun of for saying ‘bag’ and ‘sorry’ weird, and unconsciously using the occasional ‘eh’.

Singing along to the Sherlock Holmes soundtrack, He’s a Pirate, and Skillet’s Believe.

Indecisiveness. But they love me anyway.

Being referred to as Merrin, Melda, and Amy in the same day.

Alternating between ‘p-tor’, ‘potter’, and ‘Jamie; and ‘FM’ and ‘Joy’.

Eating healthy. I’m muffling my laughter.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was wearing my shirt inside out?!”

“We could have made it!”

A Starbucks on EVERY. CORNER.

Giving Sir Marshmallow a moustache.

Finding that the housekeeping staff had made our bed and sat Sir Marshmallow up against the pillows.

Two grocery shopping trips and our sophisticated check-out system.

Laughing so hard I squeak, while trying to conceal from Joy that she’s being videoed.

Drinking coffee with a heart drawn in the foam on the top.

Writing both my names in the snow.

“Joy: A song for every phrase.”

Watching Trace be turned into Hitler wearing sunglasses.

Pwning and being pwned at many virtual games of Scrabble.

Eating dessert for breakfast.

Being tacklehugged.

Having friends who make it so hard to say goodbye.

The Princess and the Frog

2009-12-23T00:09:00.004-07:00

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?

2009-12-12T09:20:00.003-07:00

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!

2009-12-11T23:40:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-12-04T15:22:00.002-07:00

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.

2009-11-18T12:51:00.004-07:00

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

2009-11-15T13:24:00.002-07:00

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

2009-11-05T13:43:00.002-07:00

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

2009-11-03T21:35:00.002-07:00

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

2009-10-28T11:26:00.003-06:00

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 -

2009-10-23T20:36:00.002-06:00

- some of it is President Approved.

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

In Which I Make My Opinion Known

2009-10-19T20:55:00.003-06:00

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...

2009-10-12T15:18:00.006-06:00

Obsessed, you say?

2009-10-11T21:52:00.001-06:00

[click for full image]

I am a little obsessed, yes

2009-10-11T19:44:00.004-06:00

[click for full image]

The Pseudo-Nerd

2009-09-28T20:22:00.003-06:00

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

2009-09-25T12:51:00.002-06:00

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

2009-09-23T12:32:00.001-06:00

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...

2009-09-23T10:25:00.004-06:00

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

2009-09-11T23:28:00.002-06:00

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

2009-08-23T17:43:00.003-06:00

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

2009-08-21T22:22:00.002-06:00

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

2009-08-13T10:54:00.003-06:00

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

2009-08-12T16:06:00.005-06:00

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

2009-07-27T23:17:00.005-06:00

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?

2009-07-19T14:20:00.006-06:00

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

2009-07-13T10:22:00.002-06:00

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

2009-07-04T11:01:00.002-06:00

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

2009-07-03T12:38:00.006-06:00

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.

2009-06-26T23:55:00.003-06:00

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

2009-06-24T08:13:00.005-06:00

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

2009-06-17T13:36:00.002-06:00

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

2009-06-15T23:10:00.002-06:00

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

2009-06-08T15:50:00.003-06:00

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

2009-05-29T23:31:00.004-06:00

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

2009-05-28T08:18:00.003-06:00

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

2009-05-26T09:32:00.003-06:00

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

2009-05-25T09:49:00.005-06:00

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

2009-05-18T10:57:00.004-06:00

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

2009-05-11T14:20:00.002-06:00

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.

2009-05-06T17:04:00.002-06:00

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

2009-05-04T10:10:00.005-06:00

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

2009-04-30T11:08:00.003-06:00

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

2009-04-29T11:43:00.004-06:00

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

2009-04-27T10:28:00.001-06:00

Blank Word Documents are terrifying.

Hackneyed 'How are you'

2009-04-24T21:41:00.003-06:00

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

2009-04-20T12:08:00.003-06:00

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."

I recommend this Writing Hour thing.

2009-04-09T10:38:00.002-06:00

I'm reading The Art & Craft of the Short Story by Rick Demarinis, and he says that writing doesn't have to have meaning when you write it, and any meaning it acquires has more heart if you didn't mean it while you were writing it (at least, I think that's what it meant) and that too many beginning writers have studied too much brilliant literature and try to be brilliant on the first try. He also recommended writing some junk. So I decided to try it, and opened Word and wrote whatever came into my head and, forty minutes later, ended up with two pages about what seems like nothing but a girl named Annaliese (but maybe Anna) and a beach with frost on it and cold toes. But I'm sure it does have meaning somewhere, and I'll come back tomorrow and find it.

I liked that. It was a lot of fun. I'm going to do it every day, and I figure that one of these times I'll come up with something brilliant without meaning to, which will save a lot of thinking. Because the more I think about ideas the more they start not wanting to be written down.

(By the way, I finished the Fionavar Tapestry, and I do eventually intend to review it, and I started both The Book Thief and The Princess Bride, but the latter is far more entertaining so I'm finishing it first. I recommend it.)

Writing Hour

2009-04-07T10:44:00.004-06:00

Currently assigned to between 10 and 11 on weekday mornings. The rule is that I MUST spend at least this hour writing. It doesn't matter what it is. Today it was the end of a scholarship letter and the beginning of an essay on life as a Christian teenager, and now it's a blog post. I could say that I'm done my English course (in which, by the way, I got a 95% on the exam and a course grade of A) and therefore I can drop English, but that would be silly.

This is only one of a whole host of rules I make for myself, too. I never cease to find it entertaining that the moment my parents stopped making rules for me, I started making them for myself. For example, I have to be off MSN by 11 pm, and ideally asleep by midnight. I have to set my alarm for 7 am (though when I actually get up varies). It's best if I'm not on MSN until 4 pm or after, but I can make an exception for myself if I work a 5-9 shift that day. I'm not allowed to do the crossword puzzle in the paper until lunchtime because otherwise I start school late. I am allowed to check facebook while I'm doing school, but only the main page. Strictly speaking, I'm only allowed one cup of coffee per day. I have to record all the money I spend, so that I can add it up at the end of the month (and what? Mostly, think I spent too much, until I check how much I made.) Oh, and I can't listen to music with lyrics while I do school because it distracts me. During piano practice, I'm allowed to skip one piece, as long as I don't skip the same one the next day.

I'm actually sitting here giggling at myself now. This sounds insanely anal. I didn't even know I had this many.

Oh, and I start school at 9, but if I have time before then, I can read. I have to be off the computer 15 minutes before I have to be at work, because that way I have time to get ready and go.

And my closet has to be color-coded. No, I'm kidding, I made that one up.

(That's an idea, though...)

My Workout: Cleanup at the Library

2009-03-30T21:23:00.009-06:00

Cleanup: 3 & 4 (Teen and Adult Fiction, half the non-fiction)

8:00 - Start cleanup. Attack the Teen section. Find a pair of books stuck together with gum. Incredulous. Fish paperbacks out from behind the shelves. Snub Meg Cabot.

6:07 - "Excuse me, where are the Punjabi books?" They're spread around on trucks because, inexplicably, the library people picked Spring Break to reorganize the World Languages AND build different paperback shelves. "They're just over here while we reorganize."

8:12 - Attack the rest of the Fiction section. Begin building what will be a two-foot-high stack of books that don't belong. Dash down aisles, shoving in bookends. Almost break a sweat.

8:17 - Wonder why so many people read Nora Roberts.

8:20 - Pass Guy Gavriel Kay and feel tempted.

8:31 - Intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, the library is closing in thirty minutes. You have twenty-five minutes left to make payments on your account, including your printing account. Internet sessions will be closing..." Must start non-fiction! Dump the two-foot stack on the almighty Wooden Truck, where they will ideally be reshelved but probably just put in the back.

8:32 - Encounter mess in the 005s. Wonder who was so curious about Microsoft that they took out and replaced three Dummies books.

8:37 - "So we put the books with the gum on them in the freezer." "Good plan."

8:45 - "Ladies and gentlemen, the library is closing in fifteen minutes. You have five minutes to..." Four aisles to go! Continue dumping misplaced books on the truck.

8:47 - Avert eyes in the 613s ('Sex for Dummies'). Finish!

8:49 - Run to wooden truck, haul it to the back, shift its load onto another truck.

8:50 - "Isabel, did you already do the study carrels?" "No. Crap." Run to study carrels. Find three huge Chilton car manuals, among other things. Haul more books to the back.

8:55 - Run around pushing in computer chairs. Find a home for a homeless one.

8:56 - Glare at people walking in and feel vindicated at - "Ladies and gentlemen, the library is closing in five minutes..." Rejoice when the computers all say, 'This branch is closed.'

8:57 - Run around again. Pick up three Punjabi books and a National Geographic magazine.

8:58 - Lights go off.

8:59 - Discover I have broken a sweat.

9:00 - Flee.

More on free speech

2009-03-26T09:30:00.004-06:00

From small dead animals

Wow.

If you watch the videos, one of the students says something about how they tried so hard, in this program at Delaware University, to say, "Don't be racist! Don't be racist!" all the while making race a huge factor in who someone is. I think that's an excellent point. And quite frankly, I do not support racism, but if someone happens to hold an opinion that is racist - that is their RIGHT. As long as they do not commit hate crimes, which are against the law (though a pretty loosely defined law in Canada) they are free to hold that opinion and discuss with others on it. There's no such thing as a thought crime. End of story. That's free speech: you don't tell anyone how to think or what to say.

As I like to say: One of the beautiful things about freedom of speech is that it encourages the development of a thick skin.

Two Three links and a resolution

2009-03-24T12:39:00.005-06:00

In the spirit of four mysteries and an enigma.

Captain Capitalism, who describes his outpost in cyberspace as 'rantings and tirades of a frustrated economist.'

send in the clowns

[edited in] Boundless Line, "Extreme conversation starters for 20somethings."

Both added to the sidebar. Those are the ~~two~~ three links.

The resolution is to be more poetic. Whimsical, if you will - report on trivial and yet telling things, like when Mom decided today during lunch that her favorite magnetic word on the side of the fridge was 'beneath'. I wonder what poetry could be composed around 'beneath'.

In other news, I greatly appreciate buttered toast.

Spring Begins

2009-03-20T09:30:00.004-06:00

That's what it says in my calendar for March 20. And voila! Spring header, right on time. Also some color changes to match the new header, which I'm still playing around with.

Song of the day is Brave by Nichole Nordeman, in case you were curious. I've listened to it three times already this morning. I'll probably hum it while I'm at work this afternoon.

True dat

2009-03-18T09:11:00.006-06:00

Okay, a bit of background first.

Gary Goodyear, the Federal Science Minister, was asked in an interview whether or not he believed in evolution. (Presumably, what was meant by this is the Theory of Evolution, not the concept.) He evaded the question - with cause, considering the hue and cry that could have been raised by the left had he even mentioned the word 'creationism' - and there was much gasping and shaking of heads. "Oh no!" people said. "Imagine! The minister of Science doesn't believe in evolution!"

There was a brief brouhaha on the topic, especially in the Globe and Mail (who also claim that the Theory of Evolution is a scientific fact; it is many things, but not that), but the article I was really interested in was this one (Jonathan Kay, National Post):

"...And please, no letters from readers complaining about yet another "gaffe" from a "socially conservative" Conservative "reawakening fears" about a "secret agenda." Unless Canadians expect their politicians to lie about their own personal beliefs, there was no gaffe here--just a journo-concocted pseudo-scandal aimed at the one group in society that is fair game for abuse in the mainstream Canadian media: white, male, English Christians. (Can anyone imagine the Globe pulling the same stunt against, say, a devout Muslim, or a Sikh, or a Quebecois Catholic or an aboriginal who believes the Earth was given to us by the Creator?) If it becomes a real scandal, it will be solely due to the Toronto media's own echo chamber -- not anything Goodyear actually said."

White, male, English Christians. So true.

As a side note, let it be known that I'm not sure I completely support Goodyear's view on the topic, because his reply when asked if he believed in evolution was: "I'm not going to answer that question. I am a Christian, and I don't think anybody asking a question about my religion is appropriate." Well, it wasn't really a question of his religion, in fairness. You can be a supporter of Intelligent Design without being a Christian at all, and his response implies that his view is unscientific and therefore not relevant in a scientific discussion.

However, that doesn't change the conclusion in the least. The fact that Gary Goodyear is a Christian does not in the least make him unfit to be the Minister of Science.

Ponderings regarding the clock

2009-03-17T17:11:00.004-06:00

"I must govern the clock, not be governed by it." - Golda Meir

"Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life." - William Faulkner

"The hands of every clock are shears, trimming us away scrap by scrap, and every time piece with a digital readout blinks us towards implosion." - Dean Koontz

Yep, it's that time again. When I get irritated with some figment of life that I can't change and vent to cyberspace. Today it's the clock.

I'm tired of trying to be in bed by midnight and up by 7 am and out the door by 5:45 pm and complete this in two hours and finish that in three hours and be forever looking at my watch. Time is a brilliant thing, really, but there's so little of it, especially when it's measured out in hours and fractions of hours and fractions of minutes. Do this fast! Eat supper now! You're late for work! Actually, let me clarify. Time is brilliant. (Incidentally, God's responsible for creating it.) Clocks, however - necessary, but not so much brilliant. (And, of course, we get credit for that one.)

What if time were only measured by when it was dark and when it wasn't? What if there were no mealtimes or bedtimes and people are when they were hungry and slept when they were tired?

It's okay, I can answer myself. That's called 'several centuries BC.'

Darn.

"Look, a puppy!"
"No, that's just one of the ninjas."

[Was this post inspired by my timed essay-writing English exam this morning? Perhaps.]

Lyrics of the day

2009-03-16T10:22:00.002-06:00

What if you're right?
And he was just another nice guy
What if you're right?
What if it's true?
They say the cross will only make a fool of you
And what if it's true?

What if he takes his place in history
With all the prophets and the kings
Who taught us love and came in peace
But then the story ends
What then?

But what if you're wrong?
What if there's more?
What if there's hope you never dreamed of hoping for?
What if you jump?
And just close your eyes?
What if the arms that catch you, catch you by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?

What if you dig
Way down deeper than your simple-minded friends
What if you dig?
What if you find
A thousand more unanswered questions down inside
That's all you find?

What if you pick apart the logic
And begin to poke the holes
What if the crown of thorns is no more
Than folklore that must be told and retold?

You've been running as fast as you can
You've been looking for a place you can land for so long
But what if you're wrong?

What If, by Nichole Nordeman

"It's funny how you talk about motivation...

2009-03-10T08:30:00.006-06:00

...and then don't post for a long time."

Thanks Josh. No, I kid, it's been a while, primarily due to this process:

[Sees blog in bookmarks]
[Checks the sidebar for other blog updates]
[Contemplates header and thinks, 'I'll need a new header soon']
[Contemplates posting and decides there's not much of interest to say]
[Doesn't]

See, I'm not a fan of just rambling on about me all the time, because I have this preoccupation with being even vaguely original, and there are gazillions of bloggers all over cyberspace who are all like, "Yeah, so today I went to English class and then to the mall after" or something like that. Therefore, I try to find things to blog about that are a bit more relevant to people other than me. But as I think the reason most of you are reading this (all the multitudes of four of you, following on the side) is to find out about me...that doesn't make sense.

So! Begin the rambling!

First up: I made the Great Western Canadian Bible Quizzing Invitational Tournament (commonly known as Great West, despite the grandiosity of GWCBQIT), for the second (and last) time. This means I get to study my butt off for the next six weeks minus a few days, and probably go through the ritual of having grand plans before the meet and having reality smack me over the head the moment they say "Question number one." You'd think, that after almost six years of this quizzing thing, I'd be over that. But no. I always think that this meet is going to be the meet where something magical happens and I'm BAM one of those uber amazing quizzers who quizzes out flawlessly in the first three and a half questions of the quiz. (...and for those of you not familiar with quizzing, you need four.) However, I am not. But I have other good qualities.

Like having my work called 'publishable' by my university-level English tutor, for one. (Sorry. [/bragging])

Also, I have officially acquired my mark from the Royal Conservatory for my Grade 9 piano exam. It is a 75, solid Honours and very respectable for this level of piano. I'm glad it's over. My transcript is very nearly illegible or I'd try to reproduce some of the examiner's more complimentary observations of my playing. Now I'm into some fun stuff, currently working on The Entertainer (Scott Joplin), Moonlight Sonata (all three movements, Beethoven), the first of the Deux Arabesques (Debussy), the Star Wars theme and The Incredits (credits music from The Incredibles.) It feels really good to not have an exam hanging over my head.

I always talk about upcoming events and never blog about them, which is perverse. Oh well. My English exam from the University of Athabasca is looming, so if you think of it, prayer for that would be appreciated. Otherwise, I just need to keep on slogging through it all.

"Don't feel bad about crying. I think that if you didn't, you'd short-circuit something somewhere."

Motivation

2009-02-23T08:35:00.004-07:00

Productivity, constructiveness, profitability, usefulness, effectiveness.

Defined by whom?

And thus continues the struggle to be defined only by myself and God, and not by how many marks I get out of 100 or how much I study or what scholarships I win or which university I go to or what clothes I wear or who my friends are or what I do with my spare time.

I'm not using the word 'productivity' this week. I've found it hackneyed, vague, and ultimately dissatisfying. I might use some synonyms, but the point of the exercise is to realize that I define my own productivity. For example, because I am sitting here putting thought into this post, this is productive. In a minute, I will pick up my One Year Bible, and that will be productive, and then I will curl up in my chair and attempt to make my most important relationship less lopsided - the other side needs a chance to talk, you know - and that will be more productive than the essay on cohabitation vs. marriage I'm going to write or how many times I play The Entertainer on the piano.

Here's signing off productivity.

I am unwritten,
Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words
That you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten, yeah

Oh, oh

I break tradition
Sometimes my tries
Are outside the lines, oh yeah yeah
We've been conditioned
To not make mistakes
But I can't live that way oh, oh

The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten

-Natasha Bedingfield, Unwritten

Switchfoot

2009-02-20T12:03:00.003-07:00

Does it have to start with a broken heart
Broken dreams and bleeding parts
We were young and the world was clear
But young ambition disappears
I swore it would never come to this
The average, the obvious

I'm still discontented down here
I'm still discontented

If we've only got one try
If we've only got one life
If time was never on our side
Well, before I die
I want to burn out bright

A spark ignites
In time and space
Limping through this human race
You bite and claw your way back home
But you're running the wrong way

The future is a question mark
Of kerosene and electric sparks
There's still fire in you yet
Yeah there's still fire in you!

I keep cleaning up the mess I've made
I won't run away
I can't sleep in the bed I've made

- Burn Out Bright, Switchfoot

This has recently made it into my Favorites playlist. I got my dad a Switchfoot CD for Christmas, and since then we've been playing it frequently in the car, but I've only recently been actually listening to the lyrics, and I only get more impressed as I do. They achieve both catchy songs and thought-provoking lyrics (which are my favorite kind.)

So next time I'm wasting time doing nothing, someone remind me to burn out bright.

Inkheart

2009-02-10T13:10:00.003-07:00

A good writer can make characters ‘jump off the page’. Mortimer Folchart, however, is a good reader. By reading aloud, he can make characters appear in flesh and blood from their prisons of paper and ink. But even his spellbinding voice cannot protect him from the dangers of this ability. For every fictional character that escapes from their story, someone from the real world disappears into the same one. And once loosed, there’s no telling what havoc these literary creations can wreak.

From New Line Cinema and director Iain Softley (The Skeleton Key) comes Inkheart. Based on the bestselling children’s book by German author Cornelia Funke, the movie follows Mo (Brendan Fraser) and his teenage daughter Meggie (Eliza Bennett) on their quest to retrieve the book that will solve their problems - a rare volume called Inkheart. Nine years previously, on an evening when Mo had been reading aloud from Inkheart to his wife Resa (Sienna Guillory) and Meggie, the magical power of his voice took hold. The villain Capricorn (Andy Serkis) and the fire-eater Dustfinger materialized from the book, and Resa vanished into it. As the movie begins, Dustfinger rediscovers Mo after years of searching and demands to be read back into Inkheart. Mo refuses, afraid to read aloud after his wife's disappearance, and a desperate Dustfinger makes a deal with Capricorn, who has settled in the mountains of Italy. In exchange for Mo’s location – intending to kidnap him for the power of his voice – Capricorn agrees to force Mo into sending Dustfinger back. However, he breaks his promise, and the angry, homesick fire-eater switches sides once more.

During Mo’s quest to send these displaced characters back into their story, Dustfinger continues to hover on the sidelines, switching allegiances as it suits him. This makes him the story’s deepest and most compelling character. Where Mo is the hero and Meggie the apprentice, Capricorn the villain and Resa the damsel in distress, Dustfinger defies common stereotypes and draws the audience in with his enigmatic and sometimes volatile mien. When it looks as though Mo and Meggie may get the happy ending they seek, Dustfinger’s future is not so certain. He viciously combats his fate with no assurance of victory, a situation with which many viewers can sympathize.

At its core, Inkheart is a fairy tale. Set among jagged mountain peaks, the set is whimsically endowed with thick woods and a foggy coastline. Also, several well-known characters from children’s literature are conjured from their books at various points, including Rapunzel and Toto the dog. These lighthearted qualities are juxtaposed with the ugly reality of Capricorn’s concrete stronghold, where the atmosphere echoes the Nazi occupation of Italy. Also similar to a fairy tale is the dialogue between characters, which is simplistic and only occasionally humorous. The acting is for the most part average and veers toward the stereotypical, with the exception of Paul Bettany’s masterfully turbulent portrayal of Dustfinger. Rated PG for fantasy adventure action, a few scary moments and some brief language, it is nevertheless an excellent kids’ movie. Though not a blockbuster, Inkheart provides a few hours of engaging fun, as well as the classic enchantment of a fairy tale and enough excitement to keep its audience watching.

(Review for my English course. I went slightly over the word count as it was, but I would have liked to discuss Inkheart's merits as a book-to-movie adaptation. Perhaps that's another essay.)

Conquering Heroes

2009-02-09T12:52:00.004-07:00

Okay, not quite. But in the spirit of that grand sentiment, Southgate 1 made it to the finals at this latest quiz meet in Innisfail, Alberta. After the three preliminary quizzes, we were in third place overall, and during the course of the afternoon we worked our way through the elimination rounds and into the final quiz. Us [left to right: Josh, Ben, Everett, Sarah (both coaches), Amy, Carissa]:

And here we have a question-by-question record of the final quiz, up against our longtime rival Sturgeon, and Edmonton Chinese. (Thanks Dad.)

SG = Southgate Alliance team 1 (us)
St = Sturgeon Alliance team 1: Breanna, Kyle, Rachel
EC = Edmonton Chinese Alliance team 1: Carolyn, Carisse, Levin

1. Chapter Reference; Breanna jumped on 'who was?' [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 20 St: 40
2. Josh [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 40 St: 40
3. Ben [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 60 St: 40
4. Chapter Verse Reference/Multiple Answer; Carolyn, called incorrect, challenges the ruling and is overruled. [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 60 St: 40
5. Breanna on the toss-up question [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 60 St: 40
6. Bonus question for Ben "Take their places where?" [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 60 St: 40
7. Josh [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 80 St: 40
8. Chapter Verse Reference; Amy [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 80 St: 40
9. Levin on the toss-up question [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 80 St: 40
10. Bonus for Kyle, "Quote Luke 16:13." [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 80 St: 60
11. Situation question, who said it?; Breanna [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 80 St: 80
12. Amy; "Treasure where?" [Correct] *3rd quizzer in (bonus of +10)
EC: 20 SG: 110 St: 80
13. Chapter Reference; Ben, right information but gives the wrong question. Amy challenges; Carolyn opposes; challenge overruled. [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 110 St: 80
14. Rachel on the toss-up [Correct]
EC: 20 SG: 110 St: 100
15. Carissa [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 100 St: 100
16. Finish the Verse; Kyle on the toss-up [Incorrect]
EC: 20 SG: 100 St: 100
16A. Bonus for Levin [Correct]
EC: 40 SG: 100 St: 100
17. Ben [Correct]
EC: 40 SG: 120 St: 100
18. "Quote Luke 11:1," Ben again! [Correct]
EC: 40 SG: 140 St: 100
19. Breanna [Correct]
EC: 40 SG: 140 St: 120
20. Finish the Verse; Kyle [Incorrect]
EC: 40 SG: 140 St: 110
20A. Quote 2 verses; no one jumps on the question. SG wins!

The Soldier Son Trilogy by Robin Hobb

2009-02-05T12:08:00.008-07:00

A lot of fantasy carries an agenda. Specific types that come to mind are feminist fantasy, notable authors including Marion Zimmer Bradley and Tamora Pierce; environmentalist fantasy; Christian fantasy, which I don't typically enjoy unless it's done more subtly than is usual; there's probably even gay fantasy out there, which I've only encountered in The Mists of Avalon and then my aversion to it was violent. Now that I've finished the Soldier Son trilogy, I can point out the hints of an agenda beneath the story, but Hobb does something distinctive with her agenda: she portrays both sides.

The basic premise: Gernia, a somewhat generic fantasy kingdom on the surface, has the usual trappings of medieval nobility. Lords, commoners, even a pretty basic monotheistic system not unlike the Judeo-Christian one. One twist that Hobb adds in is the specific ranking of a Lord's children. The first son is the heir, the second son the soldier, the third son the priest, and the list goes on. Also, as Gernia expands, it has encroached on the territory of two somewhat primitive native groups. One, which has already submitted to defeat, is a tribal, nomadic race of plainspeople that reminded me vaguely of Native Americans. The other, which has emphatically not submitted to defeat, is a race known as Specks. Both races have magic that can be negated by the presence of iron, and the culture of the Specks is strongly based around the forest they live in. However, the king wants to build a road straight through said forest, and the Specks are not okay with this.

At this point I got a bit doubtful about the possibility of this being yet another 'save the trees! Industry and expansion are bad!' fantasy, but I kept reading anyway. I'm glad I did.

[Minor spoilers to follow.]

The main character is Nevare Burvelle, a solder son of a minor Lord who dreams of growing up and achieving glory. Through a succession of circumstances, he finds himself effectively split in two by a Speck entity known as the Tree Woman, and seized by a brand of Speck magic that continues to bend his destiny according to its will. One half of him continues as a normal soldier son - he attends an academy for training - and we don't find out what happened to the other half (or that there was an other half, actually) until midway through the second book.

By this time, Nevare has been expelled from the Academy, basically for getting fat, a strange phenomenon that he can't control. Later we learn that it is (like many other things in the trilogy) the fault of the 'magic', which is explained very vaguely and seems to be a sort of deistic force. The reason for this is that the Speck Great Ones, the magic-users of the their forest clans, accumulate magic by eating a lot and therefore getting enormously fat. As an aside, I quite admired that Hobb was okay with having her main character get this way, because I can think of a lot of Mary-Sues that stay in possession of a practically perfect physique no matter what happens to them. But back on topic. In the second book, he meets the other half of him, known as Soldier's Boy, and discovers that his personality has effectively been split into a Gernian half and a Speck half.

The Speck half ends up overpowering, and Nevare spends a lot of the third book trapped in his own head as a helpless observer while his other self mercilessly attempts to halt work on the King's Road, which is progressing through their forest. The two sides continue to conflict throughout the book, and it turns into the Gernians vs. the Specks - with one half of Nevare on both sides.

What I really liked about this conflict was that Nevare forms relationships with people from Gernia and continues to feel loyalty for his country even though they ridicule him for his appearance and ultimately try to kill him. His other half forms relationships with people of the Specks, going so far as to fall in love with the Tree Woman. The conflict is emphatically NOT clear-cut, and it's not good vs evil as much as it is the desires of two conflicting cultures. The theme of preserving the environment was a bit blatant at times, but in the end it's not really the sole goal of 'save the trees!' that mattered, so I was okay with it.

I do recommend these books, but there's some strong adult content especially in the later two. I found it off-putting at times, and skimmed those parts. Hobb is very good at suspense (I know because I stayed up pretty late last night finishing the last one) and her writing style is vivid and refreshingly NOT overladen with flowery description. (*cough* Christopher Paolini.) She may be one of the only authors I know who writes fantasy from a first-person POV, and it works very well, only becoming just a tad confusing when Soldier's Boy and Nevare are both occupying the same head. There's also just a hint of feminist fantasy, but the one character that's all headstrong is basically considered a weirdo and everybody else is fine with the concept of an arranged marriage.

If I were assigning stars out of five, I would give the trilogy as a whole four.

The three are:
Shaman's Crossing
Forest Mage
Renegade's Magic

I'm determined to get better at this whole book review thing. I always end up wandering off on irrelevant tangents and forgetting key plot points and making stuff way too long. Here's another option, of the first book, but with the next two available.

On to reread Inkheart, and then reread Inkspell, and then finally Inkdeath.

Two Things

2009-02-03T14:40:00.003-07:00

1: 7 Men Who Rule The World From The Grave
2: Break Forth 2009

I meant to give these each an individual post, and I also meant to give 7 Men a better review, but alas, time does not permit.

Anyway, we'll start with #1. This is the blurb from the back of 7 Men Who Rule The World From The Grave:

Though their bodies lie cold and dormant, the grave cannot contain the influence these seven men have had on today's world. They continue to rule because they have altered the thinking of society. They generated philosophies that have been ardently grasped by masses of people but are erroneous and antiscriptural. Today these ideas pervade our schools, businesses, homes, even the church. As we continue to unknowingly subscribe to their philosophies we keep the grave open for:

Charles Darwin, who systemized and advanced the principle that evolution was behind the origin of the species
Karl Marx, who developed and advocated the notion of modern Communism
Julius Wellhausen, who initiated 'higher criticism' and 'modernism'
John Dewey, who argued for an educational system focused on problem solving and the growth of the child in all aspects of his being
Sigmund Freud, who promoted the view that sexual instinct is the driving force behind all human action
John Maynard Keynes, who advocated the politics for reducing unemployment and expanding the economy that today finds their expression in deficit spending and government activism
Søren Kierkegaard, who stressed the obligation each person has to make conscious, responsible choices among alternatives, a major tenet of existentialism

Dave Breese warns us of the dangers of believing unreservedly the ideas of these seven men. He also reminds us of the only man whose life and words we can trust completely - Jesus Christ.

Though I agree to an extent, Breese sounds mildly alarmist here, and he does inside the book as well. That said, however, he makes some very compelling points about these ideologies that have permeated our culture, and breaks their flaws down into clear, concise descriptions. I recommend it, even if you disagree with him and think the seven listed above have had positive impacts on the world as it is. Also, in addition to the official seven, Albert Einstein has a chapter in the middle about his Theory of Relativity, and how it impacted society in a manner beyond science and inspired concepts like moral relativity. I give the book four and a half stars out of five.

On to topic #2. I went to Break Forth 2009 this weekend, and it was phenomenal. Every single main speaker was engaging as well as spiritually thought-provoking and practical. I liked it so much better than YC last year, which was fun, but heavy on the fun and light on the applicability. Anyway, it made for a very busy weekend, but it was definitely worth it.

However, next year I'm going to plan my elective sessions (in between main speakers) better. This year I signed up for the youth ones, and found them not only not engaging but downright boring. When speaking to youth, it seems as though people think that they need to be super funny and trendy or else we'll all lose interest, and so often it just ends up being the same message I've heard over and over again. Also, I know that teenage years can be rough, and a lot of teens are hurting - but some of them aren't. Like me. I'm pretty normal, I've never had any majorly traumatic experiences. I recognize that it's important to be encouraging and uplifting to those who have, but it would be refreshing to hear a youth speaker that sat down and said, "Okay, you're almost adults, and I'm going to treat you like adults. Here's what you're going to face as an adult spiritually, and here's what I'd like to tell you." I don't like hearing only funny stories and morals added as an afterthought.

Coming soon - a review of Inkheart. (I do mean it. It's sitting in a Word document half-edited right now.)

Quote: "Why is he so literal?" "It's because of the Y chromosome."

Reading List

2009-01-29T21:41:00.005-07:00

A couple people have asked about my reading list (books I want to read eventually) so I'm blogging it. These are collected from random recommendations and reviews I've read online, as well as books I just...want to read. Here we go:

The Farseer Trilogy (Robin Hobb)
- I've read the Soldier Son trilogy by Robin Hobb. She's a master fantasist.
Song of Albion series (Stephen Lawhead)
- reading the Pendragon Cycle by the same guy.
Dune (Frank Herbert)
The Arthurian Saga (Mary Stewart)
- because King Arthur is awesome.
A Great and Terrible Beauty (Libba Bray)
Interview With a Vampire (Anne Rice)
- I think I need to read this for some vampire fiction that isn't Twilight.
Night Watch
- almost purely because Ellie asks me if I've read it every time I talk to him.
Master and Commander (Patrick O'Brian)
- the movie was superlative.
Sophie's World and Through a Glass Darkly (Jostein Gaardner)
Flowers for Algernon, Daniel Keyes
Star of the Morning, The Mage's Daughter, Princess of the Sword (Lynn Kurland)
Buried Fire, The Leap, The Last Siege (Jonathan Stroud)
- he wrote the Bartimaeus trilogy, which I love.
Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin)
The Fionavar Tapestry (Guy Gavriel Kay)
- both of the above recommended by Limyaael (see link on the left)
King Raven trilogy (Stephen Lawhead)
- again, writer of the Pendragon Cycle
Deerskin, The Outlaws of Sherwood, Sunshine (Robin McKinley)
- I adore Robin McKinley. 'Nuff said.
Winter Rose (Patricia McKillip)
Discworld (Terry Pratchett)
- I've heard it said that it should be a requirement for every fantasy lover to have read this series.
Ithanalin's Restoration, The Spell of the Black Dagger, The Misenchanted Sword (Lawrence Watt-Evans)
- do these not sound epic?
Gardens of the Moon, Deadhouse Gates, Memories of Ice (Steven Erikson)
Memory, Sorrow, Thorn (Tad Williams)
Heroes Die, Blade of Tyshalle (Matthew Woodring Stover)
The Vlad Taltos series (Steven Brust)
- again, recommended by Limyaael
Time Master trilogy (Louise Cooper)
How To Read Literature Like a Professor
- yep, LDM, it's on there.
Way of Shadows (Brent Weeks)
Hexwood (Diana Wynne Jones)
Eco-Sanity: A Common-Sense Guide to Environmentalism (Joseph R. Bast)
Ecoscam: The False Prophets of Ecological Apocalypse (Ronald Bailey)
- the above two from my chemistry textbook. If I'm going to be a global warming/environmentalism skeptic, I want to be an informed one.

And there you have it. If anyone can tell me that any of these are not worth reading, then please speak up - it's a really long list and I'd like to get to the best ones.

Quote of the Week: "Bookends around here are like unicorns. They're around when you don't need one but when you want one, they're never there."

I'm still not cool.

2009-01-21T11:05:00.004-07:00

This is a farewell to President Bush, who governed America to the best of his ability for eight years, and will hopefully be remembered by history more kindly than he is remembered by the media. To all those who would criticize him - and he is not perfect, like all of us - he has served during eight of the toughest years in American government. Had I been in his position, in all likelihood I would have done no better.

From the National Post:

Re: Taking A Shoe For The Country, Charles Krauthammer, Jan 19.

Charles Krauthammer, as usual, aptly describes George Bush's legacy by citing the incident in which an ingrate launched a shoe at him during a news conference in Iraq. I prefer to extend the shoe incident metaphor to describe the entire Bush legacy. Chiefly, what Bush did in Iraq was to secure the country's freedom by dismantling its tyrannical leader. And how did Iraq respond? By throwing a shoe at him.

Mr. Bush also secured the safety of Americans over the past seven years. And how did America respond? By laughing at him. Yes, an ungrateful era ends, and an over-grateful era begins.

Nick Kandel, Montreal.

Thank you, Mr Bush, from a Canadian who does not engage in Bush hatred to be cool. America - all of North America - owes you gratitude.

And welcome, Mr Obama. May you manage to both satiate your worshipers and pleasantly surprise your opposition. You've got a tough job.

The Case for Living a Non-Academic Life

2009-01-19T11:49:00.007-07:00

[Beware, counter-cultural speculation to follow!]

First, an anecdote. On Saturday I was at my piano teacher's house hanging out for an hour or so and listening to another girl I know play her RCM grade 9 piano pieces for me. I also played mine for her. A mutual friend of ours, with whom we took History 3, came to listen. Afterward, we were discussing what careers we were looking at and what our university plans were. The one girl was going into engineering, and the other was taking sciences and then pharmacy - both of which will make them money. I'm looking at a three/four-year Bachelor of Arts in English Literature, which, while being the choice I'll enjoy the most, does not promise me a cash-filled future.

About now, I start to feel unsure about myself. What am I doing, studying English? How will that help me do anything more than become a starving writer? I should pick something that will give me a career, and write on the side. That, in turn, makes me feel gloomy. I don't want to pick a different career. Moreover, I don't want to have to work doing something I don't really enjoy.

Then, in the car on the way home - epiphany!

So I want to write. Okay. I can finance university myself. I'll do the Bachelor of Arts, and then what if I don't want a career that will make me cash? Say I want to be a stay-at-home mom. Maybe I'll home-school. I can still write (that's what the BA is for), and I won't have to make a choice between working - continuing in that prestigious career I worked so hard for - or being mommy.

It was a very liberating feeling, to realize that I don't have to stress about marks to get into university and then about getting a job out of university and then about making lots of cash. Our society tells you that marks matter and money matters and you better spend 25 hours a day doing homework otherwise you will fail at life, and what it's done is make education a god. I'm sick of my friends having too much homework to do fun stuff. I'm sick of them being stressed. In a weird roundabout way, I start to actually feel guilty about not being stressed. As I've said many times before, there are points at which school needs to stop being the top priority. Okay, so don't drop out of high school or anything, but do you really need to spend so much time at it?

Do the things you love. Maybe they won't make you money, but hey, money can only do so many things.

Nobody needs to agree with me. But this is what I think.

(As an afterthought, the world does need people in careers that take eight years in university and so on and so forth. The point is, don't do that for money, do it because you love the profession, and if it's so stressful, is it REALLY worth it?)

Poetic

2009-01-16T00:10:00.002-07:00

Because if I don't post it now I'll convince myself I shouldn't.

Memory is fading
And the sun was just a lie
When naught is left but diamond drops
Within a soft dark sky

Celestial shores beckon
From a place beyond the moon
Between the dream and waking
Worry not; I'll see you soon

Diamond turns to snow, and each
Within its crystals bright
Is different as you and me
Falling out of fading night

Pale mirror shatters
When truth dawns here below
Recall it all, here in the fall
Of sparkling diamond snow.

Out of a sense of duty -

2009-01-15T13:23:00.003-07:00

- I am posting. Generally, when this happens, you all (all, what, five of you?) get to hear about my interesting life because I don't have much else to post about. I mean, I'm sure I could come up with something abstract and philosophical if I were required, but as I've filled my quota of that type of writing for today (essay on Batman and Spiderman and their heroic contrasts) - alas, it is not to be.

So. Life. What have I been doing lately?

Well, working. Working is excellent because it means cash. The possibilities that open up when one has cash are just endless. It's definitely a bonus when one enjoys working, which I do. With the exception of clean-up, generally. The perfectionist in me starts to wail when it's time to do clean-up, because especially if one is cleaning the non-fiction, there just isn't time to make it look more than sort-of-halfway-presentable-if-you-don't-look-too-closely. The first time I cleaned up non-fiction, I got woefully behind and it was not a good thing. However, I am improving.

What else? School. Definitely school. Piano and quizzing included. Grade 9 RCM will come to a glorious close with my exam on the 27th, after which I will never be touching those pieces ever again in my entire life. I'm also in the middle of learning That's How You Know from Enchanted. It's got crazy syncopation, but it's a lot of fun. I discovered that the library has music books, so I also got one with love/romance songs, and started on If I Never Knew You from Pocahontas. It always reminds me of M/K. Quizzing is a whopping 43 verses from Acts 18, which I finished today. Well, 'finished'. It needs fine-tuning. The rest of school is chemistry (molecular structure), math, english (Batman/Spiderman essay!), French, reading Evidence That Demands A Verdict and 7 Men Who Rule The World From The Grave. I recommend both.

Working, school...oh, I'm rewriting my NaNoWriMo novel, and by rewriting I mean almost completely reworking so that you might not even recognize it. That's coming along more slowly, but the working and the school sort of get in the way. I'm also finally reading #3 of the Soldier Son trilogy by Robin Hobb. Those books are definitely not for kids, but I really like her style and the way she doesn't tell you what you're supposed to think about the characters. One I'm done that I'll start Pendragon, #4 of the Pendragon Cycle (Stephen Lawhead).

And in the category of miscellany...I made this recently, for one of the A-U contests. I really like the images and I would rather not have put text in, but I still think it looks nice.

Upcoming events: Inkheart, January 23rd! Very exciting. Also quiz meet, February 6th and 7th in Innisfail.

And now I will get back to work.

Since when is the existence of God subject to probability?

2009-01-07T12:28:00.003-07:00

They have free speech, same as me. But please show me the study that can prove God's existence as unlikely.

“There’s probably no God,” the advertisements say. “Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.”

I like my life fine, thanks.

Because I am oh so original

2009-01-01T11:28:00.003-07:00

Resolutions for 2009

- Invest in people, not things
- Don't let fear of failure stop me from trying
- Give hugs
- Remember to say I love you
- Go for walks
- Do my best...
- ...without forgetting that sometimes a break is okay
- Do some headbanging
- Splurge occasionally
- Give of myself
- Grow spiritually
- WRITE
- Remember how much a smile can do
- Curl up with a book and some hot chocolate once in a while

...clean out my dresser, and floss my teeth.

Happy and sad

2008-12-25T00:10:00.005-07:00

Tonight we went to the Carols by Candlelight service at church.

It's a strange thing, the Christmas Eve service. While many people you know are there, those who live in the surrounding neighborhoods and seldom attend church except for Christmas and Easter come as well, and it feels bigger and a little more alien. But not in a bad way.

Everyone received their little white candle, and we all proceeded to hold them throughout the service - short and sweet, with carols and songs and a little message from the pastor. My little sister got impatient at one point and motioned for me to lean down so she could whisper in my ear, "When do we get to light the candles?"

The fire hazard jokes abound, so we didn't until the very end.

I've always loved Christmas. I don't know if it was the same when I was little, but for me the stuff is a little peripheral. I love the decorations. I love the anticipation. I love eggnog and gingerbread. And I love knowing, just for a little while, that Christmas spirit means something to people. To paraphrase what my dad said recently, it's an achievement that Jesus, over two thousand years later, continues to have a holiday in his name that stands for peace on earth and goodwill toward men. Christmas makes me happy; I bounce when I hear songs on the radio and play them on the piano and sing them while I wash the dishes, and I wear Santa hats, and I anticipate like a little kid.

But when we lit the candles at the end of that service, all of them from the white candle in the middle of the Advent wreath - the one called the Messiah candle - it was bittersweet, somehow, to watch the lights go off and watch the candle flames multiply. Then our pastor talked about how God could have done this in a much more magnificent way. He could have proclaimed to the whole world, beyond doubt, that his Son had come to save us. But he wants us to do it. He wants us to tell the news and pass along our candle flames, one soul at a time. They're so fragile. But one candle goes to another goes to another, and before long everyone's is lit.

It's late and my thoughts are fragmented, but this does tie in, I promise.

Luke 16:19-35

"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.

"The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.'

"But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.'

"He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.'

"Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.'

" 'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'

"He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' "

What I take from this story - and I don't know whether it's a story or a parable, but the meaning remains - is this: If we can look from Heaven to Hell, or Paradise to Hades, across the chasm, that means that every soul I knew whose candle flame was never lit will be there, on that other side.

I can't think of it without tearing up. I'm sitting here, typing this, trying not to cry. I'm thinking of standing there, in heaven, knowing that there is an uncrossable chasm between me and the people I knew and loved, and that there is no hope for them. Not any more.

Those are my thoughts tonight. Joy and sorrow. I'm so indescribably full of life and love and I'm so blessed and I could jump up and down and scream, but even with the joy comes knowledge that maybe some of those flames won't be lit.

Maybe you're reading this and you think I'm stupid and religious and I'm upset over nothing.

I pray that one day I'm not looking across at you. I pray that you'll be standing beside me.

Love life. Love life eternal.

Merry Christmas.

Looky up!

2008-12-23T21:21:00.004-07:00

It is the season for a new header! A day late, as it happens; I meant to have one for the official first day of winter, but we'll pretend that's when it was. I'm exceedingly pleased with my color- and theme-matching skills. I harbor no illusions that I'm a brilliant graphic-maker, but it's kinda pretty.

In other news:

I love my job. It's fun, and the people are warm and welcoming, and I finally feel like I know what I'm doing when I walk in. I can't believe I get paid to do this. Books are amazing.

Christmas is coming too early. But - but - it can't be the 23rd already! I want to spend another week or so getting in the mood! I like all the decorations! I'm enjoying the anticipation (anticipation is the best part of any event) and I don't want to know what my presents are quite yet. Peace on earth and goodwill toward men sounds good to me all year round, actually.

Now there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid! I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people."

Merry Christmas

2008-12-19T10:54:00.006-07:00

Nope, not Happy Holidays. Not Season's Greetings. Not Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice, or Winter Lights. My mom recently commented that I should rename my blog 'Rants' so maybe I'll try to be slightly less rabid about this particular pet peeve (because being rabid generally doesn't get you many places in life.)

However.

I am of the opinion that, in the recent trend toward quavering political correctness, those who maintain that our Christmas festivities are merely a winter holiday should insist that they not have time off school or work, buy presents for no one, and decline to receive any. After all, we don't give presents at the summer solstice, do we?

I have also noticed a trend in people who hold such opinions. They do not belong to visible minorities (you know, the ones they claim are offended by nativity scenes and Christmas trees.) They do, however, belong to a left-wing, politically correct sphere of influence, and are themselves a minority. I dare to postulate that ordinary people, stopped on the streets or wherever, probably have no more problem with a baby in a manger than I do; but they are assigned a phantom grievance by those who do have a problem.

And like all tiptoing that goes on around visible minorities, this is dumb. Majorities should be more important than minorities, particularly in a democratic country where majority rules. If you don't want to celebrate Christmas, fine. Stay home. Don't drink eggnog, don't have a tree, politely or not-so-politely refuse gifts, and spit on candy canes. Mutter a 'bah humbug' now and then. If you must, tell me you don't celebrate Christmas when I tell you to have a merry one, and then revel in the awkward silence that follows.

By all rights, your personal preferences should not mean that the sight of a baby in a manger is taboo, or that the word 'Christmas' may not be uttered and must instead be replaced with the mundane 'holiday season' or 'winter celebration'. I might detest purple but that doesn't mean I throw a fit and insist that nobody anywhere must ever wear it again.

Okay. Rant over.

Merry Christmas :)

The wish list

2008-12-13T23:05:00.003-07:00

I actually think a wish list is a selfish concept. That's why I'm so reluctant to have one. I mean, think about it, Christmas is a time of year during which, ideally, we realize the value of giving vs receiving, and how spending time with the people you love is more important than the stuff you get.

That's not to say I don't enjoy the stuff. But a lot of the enjoyment I get out of the stuff is knowing that someone bought it especially for me, thinking of me. For example: Last Christmas my sister bought me a little mirror for my bathroom. It wasn't big or anything, or flashy, but I really appreciated it, because she'd noticed I didn't have one. This is the same reason I dislike giftcards - if you don't know someone well, they're acceptable, but buying a giftcard for a close friend seems to me like saying you weren't willing to put in the effort.

I don't think Christmas should be a way of getting what you want. I see no (hackneyed phrase!) 'Christmas spirit' in just asking for all the things you'd like to have and then getting them. That's not what it's about. I enjoy the things I get, but they should not be the be-all and end-all of Christmas. It's bigger than that.

...and also, if anyone wanted a wish list, you're on your own. If you're stuck, I like chocolate.

"When life breaks your yolks - make scrambled eggs instead!"

I have a job?

2008-12-12T09:48:00.002-07:00

Verily, I have a job.

The kind that makes money and gives hours. That kind. It's sorta weird. And I'm basically thrilled.

The job description is as follows: Student Page at our neighborhood branch of the Public Library. 10 hours per week (20 during school holidays), $9.66 per hour. Student pages shelve books, shelf-read books, and clean up at closing time, as well as miscellaneous other tasks. I have applied four times in the last nine months, every time the job became available, and last Thursday was the first time they called for an interview. Interview was on Tuesday and went very well, and Wednesday afternoon they called to offer me the job.

Needless to say, I accepted :P

So I start Monday morning, with three hours of training. Wish me luck!

Shenanigans in satire

2008-12-02T09:07:00.007-07:00

Thank you Josh.

Thank you Ezra Levant.

I could sit here and rant for a long, long time.

Be advised that it is very, very dangerous to get me started. Be advised that it is 9:11 am and I have already emailed Stephane Dion and Jack Layton at their government addresses to tell them that I am seventeen years old and I can see their blatant, power-hungry hypocrisy.

"Accept defeat gracefully," said Mr Layton to the Prime Minister.

Eat your words. Or even better, stick your arrogant head - and I won't finish that sentence.

Tell 'em yourself.

Duceppe.G@parl.gc.ca
Dion.S@parl.gc.ca
Layton.J@parl.gc.ca

Cheer for the letter-writers. Cheer, cheer, cheer.

2008-12-01T12:42:00.003-07:00

I take back what I said about ceasing to read letters to the editor. I have never come across a more outstanding ensemble of common sense than the seven in the National Post today, regarding the recent ridiculous shenanigans in government. (To understand what I'm talking about, click here first and here next. If Lorne Gunter had fangirls...) Despite the ridiculous bias of our media, despite the drivel that passes for good sense, and despite the childish wailing of the Liberals, NDP and Bloc Quebecois, at least SOME Canadians are smart enough to see through this. Today's paper included these gems of wisdom:

"Why in these tough economic times, are [the Liberals, NDP, and Bloc] not willing to lead by cutting the drain on Canadian taxpayers? The Conservatives are willing to cut spending in an area that will directly affect them. If I want to support a political party, I would rather have the right to choose which one and how much of my hard earned money I give." (Tom Stang, Edmonton)

"The Conservatives have no apologies to make for their proposal to eliminate public funding of political parties. The issue is simple: If Canadians want to support a political party, let them do so with their own money. It is immoral to compel Canadians to fund political parties that they would not support voluntarily. It is equally immoral for political parties that can't manage their own finances to expect to manage the finances of the nation." (Liam Rafferty, Toronto)

And from me:

The motivations behind this coalition of the opposition parties and their screams of protest at the move to cut their funding are simple: Selfishness and laziness.

They failed to obtain power in the election. The Liberals, the Official Opposition, had the worst show of support in over a century. They've been smacked down and left to whine about how Harper isn't doing what's best for the economy - and the moment he introduces a bill to cut taxes (e.g. support the economy) they are more concerned with the fact that it is their funding he is taking away than they are for the welfare of Canadians. If they want the funding, they need to get out there and RAISE it. The Opposition parties lack power and lack funds, and they are selfish and lazy enough to make a grab for the one, and to expect Canadian taxpayers to make up for the other. This is in no way a failure on the part of the Prime Minister.

Hoo boy, I think this is turning into one of those issues on which it is dangerous to get me started.

I am a rebel.

2008-11-18T10:50:00.002-07:00

Today, I resolve not to feel stressed, overwhelmed, bogged down, or generally blah. I resolve to waste time as I see fit, read my book, accomplish whatever absolutely has to be done, and leave the rest, because today I am a rebel.

That felt kinda good.

(Of course, this does not apply to piano, quizzing, or English; but hey, that's the fun stuff.)

NaNoWriMo count: 29000 words. Today's goal is 30000.

To-Do List:
Read my book
Listen to my new soundtrack (the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe)
Read Limyaael's Fantasy Rants
Drink coffee
Write novel
Wash the dishes while singing Deck the Halls

Seven Random Things

2008-11-16T10:57:00.006-07:00

I have been tagged by Kyleian.

(As a side note, my NaNoWriMo took precedence so you likely won't be hearing much more about the convention.)

Seven Random Things About Melda
1. I am unaffected by caffeine. I like coffee and chocolate, but no matter how much I drink/eat, my level of hyperness thereafter is completely psychological. I can also be extremely hyper and not have had coffee for ages.
2. I have a slurpee in the freezer and later today I will dig it out and eat it with a spoon.
3. I really want nice boots to go with my coat, but it seems as though the perfect ones are only to be found on other people, and not in stores.
4. At home, I sleep with a squishy heart-shaped red pillow. When away, I find a pillow and sleep with it like a teddy bear, because otherwise I feel slightly bereft.
5. I am addicted to crossword puzzles.
6. I hate airport security with all my heart, and if one of those guys ever tries to search me with his metal-detector thingy, I will be seriously miffed.
7. I really appreciate it when cashiers are chatty, cheerful people. If I am ever a cashier, that is my goal.

There. Now I tag...

Joy
Robyn
Valera (now you have to post, mwaha)
Lenya
Meg
Ellie (you have issues finishing things you start. Or even perpetuating them. POST, DARN YOU)
I can't think of a seventh one but I know the Fudge Muffin periodically hangs around here, so she is now obligated to tell me seven random things about herself next time I see her on MSN. Or she could put them in a comment, I suppose. Whichever.

NaNoWriMo count: 25,500. Right on track.

Conservative Convention, Day 1

2008-11-13T14:33:00.003-07:00

I am in Winnipeg. At the Conservative Convention '08, as a Youth Delegate. My name tag says it and everything. Dad says his should say, "Old Delegate."

Day #1

4:10 am - out of bed. This is an insane hour for ANYONE to be out of bed, cheap flight or no. I had to do some considerable coaxing to make it up, and then run around crazily trying to pack all my last-minute things. I still forgot my camera charger, but hey, it's only three days.

4:30 - meet with our convention buddies, drive to the Park 'n' Ride, and get on a shuttle to the airport.

6:00 - board plane, after several failed attempts at coffee and a hasty perusal of a newspaper. Wedge self in the middle seat, contemplate the insanity of rising at 4:10 am.

6:30 - take off. I did write 1100 NaNoWriMo words at this point, which was good.

9:10 [now on Winnipeg time]- land. Take limo (!!!) to hotel/convention center - they're connected - meet Mike, and discover some of our rooms aren't ready. Therefore, congregate in the one that is.

10:10 - start discussing some of the touchier things in the constitution packet. At this point I was finding it hard to focus because all I'd eaten was a package of cookies on the plane and a Christmas orange.

11:30ish - wander down to the lobby, coincidentally happen to see the Prime Minister arrive at the hotel. That was kinda cool. Because I was dying of hunger, we went to Subway, and *gasp* someone actually knew how to use two Subway giftcards at the same time! (This is quite a problem. Nobody seems to know and it makes giftcards just slightly useless.)

12:30 - make it over to the convention center to register. Here we got our lanyards, a package with a bunch of documents and some ballots, and various other miscellany.

After 12:30 - hang around on floor 12 of the hotel, designated hang-out area with coffee of varying kinds and comfy chairs. Finish Merlin, second book of the Pendragon cycle.

2:00 - discuss more policy and constitution.

4:00 - spend a long time looking for the Radisson Hotel to attend a Cabinet Minister's presentation on multiculturalism. I think I would have enjoyed this more if I hadn't had to try so hard to stay awake. Dad and I left during the comments portion of the presentation, because the comments were desperately long and boring. People do not know how to be concise.

5:20 - find another Subway, try to use giftcards and fail, unhappy Dad and I. Get sandwich anyway.

5:30 - wolf sandwich down in hotel room.

6:10 - head down to get seats for the Prime Minister's keynote address. Or in my case, a very random seat after being accosted by a volunteer going, "Oh we need youth delegates to come sit over here so it looks like there are young people!" Cue me in between a guy who refused to give me the aisle seat like the volunteer wanted me to have, and a lady who was busy talking to someone else. I twiddled my thumbs until shortly after 7.

Shortly after 7 - an amazing routine by a couple of gymnasts, the Underground Circus, involving two ropes of colored cloth hanging from the ceiling and some absolutely amazing acrobatics. Then some singing by a girls' group, including the national anthem. Some people whose names I don't really recall spoke, and then Laureen Harper (that was kinda cute. I like her.) and then FINALLY the Prime Minister. He mentioned Mike's campaign manager in his speech! And how she made pies to raise money to send us to convention! Or *cough* how she's planning to. Anyway, it was really an excellent speech. I kept hoping he was going to exit via the bleachers, where I was, but he didn't, which begs the question - why the heck was I even there?

Shortly after 8 - hunt up Dad, hang around a bit getting progressively more tired and not liking the loud music and the bright lights. Finally decided to come back to the hotel room.

9:58 [now] - by myself, on my laptop, much happier.

High point of day 1: getting to read Merlin for the first uninterrupted stretch of time in a while. Also, of course, the Prime Minister's speech.

Low point: being hungry and tired.

So far, not gonna lie, it's not the most riveting thing in the world. But hey! That's why I have a book and my laptop.