Tuesday, December 30, 2008

The Emperor's Body, Ancient Poop and More Reasons to Buy Shoes

I bought a couple of archaeology magazines about a week ago, and I'm going through them slowly, finding some interesting stuff.

Apparently, the statue of Emperor Hadrian that the British Museum has had since the 1860s is actually pieces of three or more statues plastered together. When the museum's conservators took the layer of plaster off around Hadrian's neck, they discovered that the head was too small for the body, the neck didn't fit together. Also, apparently, the hands are from different statues too. This seems a good way to create the perfect man, I think. Simply plaster the best pieces together. According to the Bristish Museum website, it was the museum staff who put the different pieces together, on assumption that all the pieces were found near each other in Libya.

Also, they were able to prove that humans lived in North America over 12,000 years ago. How? Poop, of course. Archaeologists apparently found the a dried piece of shit from 14,300 years ago in a cave in Oregon. They're actually able to isolate human DNA from this. As Kristen asked: How did they know it was poop? It looks like a rock to me...

I've bought three new pairs of shoes in the last month. I used to hate shoe shopping - apparently now I'm obsessed. But it's okay, because it's genetic. Turns out that humans have been wearing shoes for 40,000 years. An anthropologist analyzed the toe bones of a skeleton found in China and found that the shape of the foot indicated that this person wore shoes. Apparently, if you walk bare foot your whole life your middle toes curl under for traction. But not shoe wearers, they put all the pressure on the big toe and the rest of the toe bones are less developed. See, now I can tell myself that if I don't buy shoes, my middle toes might curl under....

Distance and the space between...

I've been thinking a lot recently about the plan that Fae and I had to move to London in September. We've been talking about it a lot too, about how we're disappointed it's not going to work. Ever since she was here last week, I keep thinking how unfair it is to have lived 12 hours away (at the closest) from my best friend for the last 8 or 9 years. It's hard, because both our lives are going in very different directions, and we both have a lot of dreams for our futures.

Anyway, I love my Faerie and I miss her and I wanted to share with you the post she wrote yesterday, based on a book she's reading. It describes us pretty well.

http://konfusedfae.blogspot.com/2008/12/friend-who-made-me-laugh-who-made-me.html

Btw, Fae, I'm trying to avoid the letter u because I'm on the laptop downstairs.. I love ewe!

Friday, December 26, 2008

Son of a Witch

Last night I finally finished reading Son of a Witch by Gregory Maguire.

I read Wicked a few years ago, and I was a little disappointed with it. I wanted it to be more plot and character based, I guess. So I never read Son of a Witch, thinking I would probably feel the same about it. Then, Maguire's new book, A Lion Among Men came out and I decided I wanted to read it, so I bought Son of a Witch to read first.

I loved it. A lot more than Wicked. I think that it struck the right balance between being beautifully written and good plot, while Wicked was mostly just really well written, but not necessarily a page turner.

Another big difference for me, I think, was that I sort of love the main character, Liir. He's so screwed up, it's so entertaining. And you actually watch him grow up in the shadow of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West and possibly his mother, throughout the book.

I don't know what I can say about it, I think it will be more effective to put my favourite lines down and let it speak for itself.

"Perhaps he just didn't have the feeling for faith. It seemed to be a kind of language, one whose gnarled syntax needed to be heard from birth, or it remained forever intelligible."

"'Well, Scarecrow, your turn. What'll you do with your brains?' 'I'm thinking about it,'"

"Candle was not simple, not in the least, but her debility had made her a still person. She listened to church bells, when they pealed, trying to translate; she watched the way the paper husks of an onion fell on a table, and examined the rings of dirt that onion mites had life in parrallel rows on the glossy wet inside. Everything said something, and it wasn't her job to consider the merit or even the meaning of the message: just to witness the fact of that message."

"A notion of character, not so much discredited as simply forgotten, once held that people only came into themselves partly through their lives. They woke up, were lucky enough to have consciousness, in the act of doing something they already knew how to do: feeing themselves with currants. Walking the dog. Knotting up a broken bootlace. Singing antiphonally in the choir. Suddenly: This is I, I am the girl singing this alto line off-key, I am the boy loping after the dog, and I can see myself doing it as, presumably, the dog cannot see itself."

"A capacity for interiority in the growing adult is threatened by the temptation to squander that capacity ruthlessly, to revel in hollowness. The syndrome especially plagues anyone who lives behind a mask.... A hundred ways to duck the question: how will I live with myself now that I know what I know?"

"By force of personality, by dint of their vicious beauty and untamed ways, children tromp into the world ready to disfigure it. Children surrender nothing when faced with the world: it is the world that gives up, over and over again. Dying in order to live, that sort of thing."

"'I didn't cause you to live or die,' she said. 'Don't give me credit for skills beyond me. I played music; you remembered. Music will do that. What you remembered - that was within you, and nothing to do with me.'"

"Wisdom is not the understanding of mystery, she said to herself, not for the first time. Wisdom is accepting that mystery is beyond understanding. That's what makes it mystery."

"I loved it when I was alive, too. Forget us, forget us all, it makes no difference now, but don't forget that we loved it when we were live."

The only qualm I had with Son of a Witch is that the ending didn't answer all of my questions, but hopefully they'll be answered in A Lion Among Men.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Io, Saturnalia!

Saturnalia is the Roman midwinter festival, dedicated to the god Saturn, the father of the gods and therefore arguably the most important festival in Rome. It's celebrated from December 17th to the 23rd and included public rites and ceremony and lots of gambling - but most importantly a reversal of social order. For this week in December slaves and their masters essentially switched places. Plebians could pretend to be patricians, and patricians could slum it as plebians. This was the only week that a slave would be invited to speak their mind (as in Plutarch).

The lewd nature of such a festival led to many attempts to outlaw or shorten it (by the piety-obsessed Augustus and the hypocritical Caligula) to no avail.

This is also often attributed as the reason why Christmas is celebrated on December 25th. Previously, the church had marked January 6th as the birth of Jesus. It was changed to December 25th in the fourth century because the pagan converts were already used to celebrating a midwinter festival (in the Empire, mostly Saturnalia but in the outer Provinces like Britain and Gaul the Winter Solstice) around that time. The longest night of the year, December 21st, is customarily celebrated with the use of light and fire. During Saturnalia it was custom to exchange gifts (which were often candles).

So, instead of Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays or Seasons Greetings - why not "Io, Saturnalia"? (Pronounced yo, Sah-tur-na-lia).

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Science humour...

Today, I was reading about gay dolphins and gnome poop.

Ah, the world of blogging.

Monday, December 1, 2008

...is love alive?


from asofterworld

It's so me. I'm definitely lactose intolerant but I eat ice cream anyway.... What does that say about me and love, if love is ice cream?

Friday, November 28, 2008

Grad school

I am applying for grad school.

It's so terrifying to say outloud. But I am. That's what I plan to do next year. A Master's degree in Classical Archaeology.

I have to get a few things together in order to do this. I need a thesis proposal, references and an academic CV. Today, I talked to my 4th year seminar professor about being one of my references, and he said yes. So that's one step. I also plan to ask the professor I'm TAing for.

I'm not sure if I'm going to get in. Most of the schools I'm applying to are in the UK, and they take the classics a lot more seriously over there. My marks are okay, but not stunning. My resume, I hope, is impressive. Most of my experience goes with my journalism degree, but I also have museum experience, and TAing experience. I hope those will help me seem more qualified.

I'm also really hoping that my journalism degree will work for me. Technically, I feel like proof that I can communicate as well as research, write, understand and interpret history will be something that I can bring that not many applicants can.

I'm just not sure that the universities will feel that way. And that having done two degrees will actually be mark against me. Because a lot of my time is spent on journalism, I don't do as well in my Classics classes as I could. Because I'm doing a combined honours, I don't have as many credits in Classics as I would, and I definitely don't have the language credits I should.

When I applied for my undergrad, I knew I was going to get in. My marks in high school were in the top range, and that's pretty much all they looked at. From that, I got early acceptance and a scholarship.

Now, I think I'm just one in a thousand similar candidates. And not even in the top range. The only hope I have is to make my thesis and resume stand out. On top of that, to go to school in the UK is VERY expensive for international students. Not only would my tuition be about 9000 pounds a year, but I also have to move and live there. In order to avoid getting a $20,000 student line of credit, I'd like to get a scholarship to at least cover my tuition. There are lots of scholarships available, particularly for Commonwealth citizens. But am I good enough to get them...?

All of this is incredibly scary, and all of this has to be done this month, over the Christmas break. Because it's due at the end of January and I'm on overload next semester.

On a slightly more positive note, these are my top schools:

University of Edinburgh - Classical Archaeology (or Classics)
University of London - Classical Archaeology
University of British Columbia - Classical Archaeology
Simon Fraser University - Archaeology, Creative Writing
University of Ottawa - Classics
University of Leicester - Classical Mediterranean (Archaeology and History)
University of York - Historical Archaeology, Field Archaeology
University of Glasgow - Classical Archaeology and Ancient History
Newcastle University - Greek and Roman Archaeology

My favourites are University of Leicester (45 mins from London), University of Glasgow (where I get to do history as well as Archaeology) and the University of Edinburgh (one of my favourite cities EVER).

But on top of everything else, if I do get in I have to move to a completely different country all by myself and that's terrifying.

I don't want to grow up.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Ahhh

I haven't been able to breathe since the beginning of October. Every time I think my "stressful week" is over, there's another stressful week.

I would say I want it to be December, but I have a whole credit of Canadian History to do in December, and I have to apply for grad school.

I think I am being eaten by school.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

The Infinite Wisdom of Harriet Rose

The Infinite Wisdom of Harriet Rose: My first "meh" review. Chick lit that tries to be deep.

It wasn't a bad read, but it wasn't a great one either. I like the idea that they're trying to bring things like philosophy into a chick lit style. I liked that the character of Harriet Rose was very imperfect. But the style was very basic and the plot was sort of anti-climatic.

Favourite line:

"Heraclitus famously said that we cannot step into the same river twice. Everything, that is, is in constant change. Nothing remains the same. By the time I have reached the end of my talk to you, I shall be a different person from the one who began it."

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

And I said he-ey-ey, what's going on?

Even (or especially..) when I'm wasting too much time playing Boggle and throwing gum around the apartment, I love my roommates. <3

Monday, November 10, 2008

Versus Cat

If you have a cat, or have ever lived with a cat, you'll understand.

http://www.stupidvideos.com/video/animals/Timelapse_Man_Vs_Cat/

I personally like towards the end when the cat attacks his head.

On another note, a timelapse of my attempt at "sleeping" last night would have included a lot of staring at the ceiling. I couldn't shut my brain off. I'm drowning in work right now... Grr. Argh.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

How to...

I have a "Daily How-to" feed on my iGoogle. This one caught my eye, and I wanted to share it.

How to Live in the Moment


WikiHow, like all WikiSites, is awesome. You can honestly learn anything from this site. Some of the how-tos are badly done, but some are priceless. While you're at it, check out How To Get Closure or How To Look like Sarah Palin (or anything else on the featured articles sidebar).

Friday, November 7, 2008

The Fire Gospel

The Fire Gospel was a must read for me for two reasons: 1) It's by Michael Faber, who wrote The Crimson Petal and the White, one of my favourite books and 2) It's the newest book in the Myth series that I love so much.

It's based on the myth of Prometheus giving fire to man. Loosely based, I'd say, since the links aren't too obvious - but that's not really a bad thing.

The premise for the novel is that Theo has found these secret fifth gospel while in a museum in Iraq. This fifth gospel essentially emphasizes that Jesus was very human when he died on the cross. When Theo translates the gospel from Aramaic, the book sells like wild fire. And, as the book's jacket says, "Like Prometheus' gift of fire, it has incendiary consequences."

This book was very plot driven, easy to read. Which is different from most of the myth series books I've read so far, like Weight, The Helmet of Horror or Girl Meets Boy. I do love all these books which are suddenly taking re-thinking the bible as a theme (I haven't read DaVince Code.. but the newest Jodi Picoult book talks about the Gnostic Gospels).

I'll say that the book wasn't what I was expecting, thinking about the Crimson Petal and the White, and also based on the other myth books. But it was still pretty good. I really like the idea of it, most.

Favourite line:

"And that is our misfortune, brothers and sisters: we speak of things that cannot be spoken. We seek to store understandings in our gross flesh that gross flesh cannot contain, like a madman who would snatch a moonbeam and put it in his purse. We try our best to tell a story, so that others might be led towards Jesus, but Jesus is not a story. He is the end of all stories."

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Journalism as activism

I went to the Science and Technology Awareness Network conference this morning with my science reporting. We were there to watch the speech of Adam Bly, the creator and editor of Seed magazine. It cost us $25 to go (plus parking) and I was not impressed at having to get up even earlier and get downtown for it.

But I honestly really ended up enjoying it. Entirely because of Adam Bly. He gave a very powerful presentation about science globally. He emphasized that everyone should be science literate. All 6.7 billion of us.

This is interesting to me because I don't do science. I don't get it, normally. I will never be a scientist (unless maybe you count an archaeologist). But the truth is that science effects everything. It's the reason life is so different from the way it was just a hundred years ago. We have learned more about the world in the last hundred years than humans had since the beginning of civilization. Science is important to me, even though I'm not doing it.

The other thing he talked about reminded me, for the first time in a long time, the reason I went into journalism in the first place. He has this ideal of journalism being the vehicle for change. He won't accept less than perfect from his publication. It isn't lazy journalism, deadlnie journalism, where you write shit 364 days of the year, and write one good story one day. It's not tired journalism.

Adam Bly said journalism, for him, is activism. And that's why I used to want to be a journalist. To make a difference. But four years of j-school have taught me to expect the media to be mediocre. To expect that as a journalist I could never change the world.

I don't want to be a journalist, because there are too many things wrong with journalism right now, and I don't have the energy to change it. I know that makes me a bit of a coward, but I'll leave change in the hands of people like Adam Bly and Barack Obama, to create "a world connected by science and imagination."

What's in a name?

I'm thinking about changing my name.

I think names are very important. I think they create a part of who we are - they are the language with which we identify ourselves and each other. I think last names say where you came from, how you're linked to your past. Some people might not fee this way about their name, but I do. I've always said I'm not going to change my name when I marry. This is, in part, because I plan to already have an established career when I get married, which would make changing my name a nuisance. But it's also because I feel like changing my name would say that I'm changing myself. I'm not just going to be Mrs. SuchandSuch. I was Heather Montgomery for the first 25-odd years of my life, why should I be someone different after?

That's how I feel about names, in general.

My mom never changed her last name, something I've always respected. My mom is still a Francis. But the other day it struck me that while I fee very connected to my mom's parents and to the Francis side of my family, I'm not a Francis.

So, I'm thinking of changing my name to Heather Catherine Francis Montgomery. Not hypenated. My name, in any relevant way, would still be Heather Montgomery. But my full name would include my mom's family name.

I don't know how to make a decision like this. Is it just silly? Should I actually legally change my name or is that too much hassle?

Sunday, November 2, 2008

everything must come and go...

Have I ever mentioned how much I adore Regina Spektor?

Again the sun was never called
And darkness spreads over the snow
Like ancient bruises
I'm awake and feel the ache
I'm awake and feel the ache
But I wish I'd see a field below
.

A Complicated Kindness

Book number fourteen, A Complicated Kindness, is a book I've been recommended by many people. I've heard that you either love it (like Kristen) or hate it (like Laura). I loved the beginning and the end, I wasn't sure about the middle. Of course, this could be because I've been reading it for a couple of weeks and therefore the middle was interrupted.

The book is really about being left behind. Physically, emotionally and culturally. I think it's something that anyone can relate to. What I loved most about the book was that the metaphors are so effortless. You'll read a line that's just a line and then realize that she isn't just talking about sand or a road or a piece of chalk, but about life. It's beautiful.

The characters voice is great too. Have the time you think Nomi is insane, the other half your heart aches for her.

The book wasn't what I thought it was going to be, in the best possible way.

Some favourite lines, as per usual:

"I had a thought, on the way home from the rock field, that the things we don't know about a person are the things that make them human, and it made me feel sad to think that, but sad in a reassuring way that some sadness has, a sadness that says welcome home in twelve different languages."

"I folded my hands and pressed the top knuckle joints of my thumbs hard into my forehead. Dear God. I don't know what I want or who I am. Apparently you do. Um... that's great. Never mind. You have a terrible reputation here. You should know that. Oh, but I guess you do know that. Save me now. Or when it's convenient. We could run away together. This is stupid. What am I doing? I guess this is a prayer. I feel like an idiot, but I guess you knew that already, too. My sister said that god is music. Goodbye. Amen. I lay in my bed and waited for that thick, sweet feeling to wash over me, for that unreal semi-conscious state where the story begins and takes on a life of its own and all you have to do is close your eyes and give in and let go and give in and let go and go and go and go."

"I wondered if I could spend my entire life in two gears, neutral and fourth. I was so tired of shuffling."

Again I want to say that Canada is home to some of the worlds best writers. That's all for now.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Janus Geminus


Janus Geminus is the Roman God of gates, doors, beginnings and endings. He is depicted as having two faces, to signify his two sides. The Romans sacrificed to him to protect their houses and sacred buildings, and also on the New Year (hence, January). Saturn gave Janus the gift to see into the future and the past. In more modern times, Janus's name has been used in cell biology, and when you google Janus you come up with lots of interesting depictions of two faced men. Janus-faced can mean two faced. Interestingly enough, it's also where we get the word janitor, the caretaker of doors and halls.

So, here's to ends that lead to beginnings and keeping an eye on both the past and the future.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Wherein Conservatives are stupid and Pierre Poilievre is a "twerp"...

I'm sitting here watching the election results and I'm despairing about how I'm not represented at any level of government.

I consistently vote in my home riding, though I could have voted in Ottawa Centre this year. The problem is that Barrhaven (or Nepean-Carleton) is all upper middle class families. Who vote Conservative. And so, in all of the elections I have ever voted in I have consistently voted for a losing candidate. Or, better yet, against the winning conservative candidate. Municipal election: Jan Harder won. Provincial election: Lisa McCleod won. Federal election: Pierre Poilievre won again.

I have particular problems with Pierre. To quote my granny, he is a "twerp." He consistently says stupid things in Parliament that discredit my riding and insult me as a Canadian. He schmoozes with the locals to buy votes and licks the boots of Stephen Harper and John Baird. He can't think for himself - when he tries he just proves he can't. He's the youngest member of Parliament in history. It's a discredit to young people everywhere.

So, as we enter another Conservative minority government, I'm weary of the future of our country and all the thing I value about Canada. The only hope I have is that the Liberals will axe Dion and give us a good leader that can get Harper out of power.

It's a sad night to be Canadian.

On a lighter note, if Stephen Harper is Spongebob:


Then Pierre is definitely Patrick:

My most ridiculous day

Today was so ridiculous that I just have to write about it.

7:00am - Alarm clock goes off. Wake up briefly, turn off alarm. Promptly fall back to sleep.
7:20am - Actually wake up. Shower
7:45am - Grab marked assignments to give to prof. Count. Realize that I have 43 papers when I'm supposed to have 50. FREAK OUT.
8:00am - Phone home to see if I left them there. No luck. FREAK OUT. Decide I'm going to be late for class anyway and I have to find the papers, and so decide not to go. Mark remaining assignments.
8:30am - Phone Billings to see if I left the papers there. No luck. FREAK OUT.

That was the most stressful part. Eventually, Kristen got home and we searched frantically and went over the options of where they could be. I decided I wasn't going to find them. I also made an appointment to do an interview for my science reporting article due Thursday. Kristen researched our TV story, and went to vote. I finished marking and put all the marks together on a spreadsheet. We went to school to meet our TV prof about our story idea. MEANWHILE, I'M STILL FREAKING OUT. Honestly, making myself feel sick worrying about it.

Then, I went to meet the prof to give back the papers at 1pm. I asked to see the list and discovered *drum roll*..... that I just don't know how to count to 50 and I only ever had 43 in the first place. To say I was relieved is an understatement. I already went to buy a file folder at the bookstore so that it doesn't happen again.

Then I went to do my interview. And decided to stop by HR on the way home, since I was confused about whether I got paid from Carleton Now or not. Turns out that I was actually paid twice for the same job. Being an honest person, and really not wanting to mess with karma after this morning, I told them so and had to figure out with the HR people how they were going to get the money back. And sadly do not get $520 for free. Hahaha.

That's my day so far. But you'll be happy to know I didn't cry. I just don't think I could stand it getting anymore exciting. I just want to sit here for the rest of the day and do my homework. And possibly go to the Wild Oat for dinner.

Monday, October 13, 2008

AS!**R^(*&^@#!*@&KJADH!!!!!!!!

Oh my God I'm so fucked for this week.

I promised myself I wouldn't have a mental breakdown this semester...

Ahhhhh!!!

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Billings Estate National Historic Site


Since I posted pics of Pinhey's at the beginning of the summer, I guess it's only fair that I do the same for Billings since I started working there in September. It's a gorgeous place too, but instead of being in the middle of nowhere it's sort of right in the middle of the city. The cemetery was particularly gorgeous today, so I snapped some pictures with my cell. I love that both museums have cemeteries. It makes them more creepy and more authentic. This month we're doing Murder Mysteries, ghost hunts and seances at Billings. And a Haunted Walk at Pinhey's. I love October.

Roman humour

Ask anyone that knows me and they'll tell you that I laugh like a maniac at any type of historical joke. Even as I write this I'm watching Season Two of Hercules.

I just wanted to share one of my favourites, as I get ready to write cheesy puns for my fourth year classics class presentation.


Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Google goggles?

This is hilarious. I feel like facebook needs one too:

http://gmailblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-in-labs-stop-sending-mail-you-later.html

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Not quite what I was planning

It all started with PostSecret and asofterworld. I soon moved on to Found Magazine, Common Ties, One Sentence.

When I read on the PostSecret website that there was a book of six word memoirs by the editor of Found Magazine, I knew I had to buy it. Within a week, I did.

Not Quite What I Was Planning was amazing. Can you summarize your life in six words? The book was inspired by Ernest Hemingway's famous six word memoir: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." It was hilarious sometimes, heartbreaking others. And the best part is that it's a book that you can pick up whenever and just read a few.

Some of my favs:

"Wasn't born a redhead; fixed that." - Andie Grace

"Tell your story. That's my story." - Andy Goodman

"The road diverged; I took it." -Rachel Farris

"Lived in moment until moment sucked." - Janine Goss

"My life's a bunch of almosts." - Shari Bonnin


A couple I've thought about for myself:

"There's nothing quite like a song."

"Loves easily, dreams big: the end?"

"Happiest pretending to be someone else."

"Still waiting for life to begin."

I could speak in six words forever. I think there's another one of these books coming out soon. I can't wait.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Life of Pi

The reading of fifty books in one calendar year by yours truly has faltered since the beginning of school. Alas, I do not have as much time to waste (also, I am working at Pinhey's less, so that cuts my time wasting back significantly haha).

But... *drum roll* I had to read Life of Pi by Yann Martel for the Religion class I'm TAing this semester.

I loved it. Absolutely adored it. I can't believe I hadn't read it yet. Like Anil's Ghost, Life of Pi truly proves to me that Canada has some of the best authors in the world. (If only Jeanette Winterson were Canadian...)

I don't really know what to say because I could probably talk for days about each page of the book. It's so.. rich and full. Also, I'm a little tired of talking about it in class and I'm sure that after marking 100+ exam questions about it I really won't want to think about it anymore...

But, as usual, I will post some of my favourite lines. Really, I could have had so many more than this. But here goes:

"I saw my suffering for what it was, finite and insignificant, and I was still. My suffering did not fit anywhere, I realized. And I could accept this. It was all right. (It was daylight that brought my protest: 'No! No! No! My suffering does matter. I want to live! I can't help but mix my life with that of the universe. Life is a peephole, a single tiny entry onto vastness - how can I not dwell on this brief, cramped view of things? This peephole is all I've got!') I mumbled words of Muslim prayer and went back to sleep."

"It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse."

"Love is hard to believe, ask any lover. Life is hard to believe, ask any scientist. God is hard to believe, ask any believer."

Keyboard issues

Fae and I entertain me:

Hez: What i with my s's?
Fae: hehe
Hez: Hold fuck!
Fae: My precious.
Hez: hahahhaa
Hez: HOLY
Fae: *dies*
Hez: Hold fuck.
Fae: Is that a new position?
Fae: hahah
Hez: That's an order!!!
Hez: Yes.
Fae: hahaha
Hez: Actually, it's a very old one.
Hez: From the dawn of time.
Hez: Ice Age, actually.
Fae: "And on the 8th day, God created the Hold Fuck."
Hez: Winter comes.. and Hold Fuck!
Hez: hahahahhaa
Fae: *dies*
Hez: *is laughing like an idiot*
Fae: Ice Age 3: Hold Fuck.
Fae: hahah
Hez: That's wrong.
Fae: *dies*
Fae: Oh but the God comment wasn't?
Fae: I love your logic.
Hez: It's a childrens movie!
Hez: hahaha
Fae: *giggles*
Hez: God is always hilarious.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Schmapped!

So, one of my photos from Killarney was randomly chosen for an online travel guide.

I give you Fae's ass, now published!:

http://www.schmap.com/?m=iphone#uid=killarney&sid=activities_guided&p=168255&i=168255_26

So far I have had my photos published in Schmap, the Charlatan, Media magazine, University Affairs magazine, SWAP Ireland Guide, Carleton Now and on the Carleton Website. I'm kind of proud of myself for these, but I still don't think I have a future in photography. This year, I had to make a decision whether or not to invest in my photography at this point in my life and buy a new camera, the E3, or not. I decided not. I think, for me, photography is a hobbie. I love taking travel photos, but I can still do that with the camera and lenses I have already.

Monday, September 22, 2008

I am a visitor here, I am not permanent....

Noticed a lack of posting? Well, school's in. And I'm trying to finally get it right this year, it's my final chance to NOT have an emotional breakdown each semester. So, I'm trying not to procrastinate as much.... Hopefully.

I'm really just trying to get the fuck out of here and fast. I'm sad it will be over. But it doesn't even compare to how excited I am to start the next part of my life. After all, there's very little keeping me here, as I've been proved repeatedly over the last couple of weeks.

I'm so tired of being invisible, I'm just waiting to disappear on purpose.

Do I think things are magically going to fix themselves when I move overseas? Not at all. Do I still think it will be better? Absolutely.


I'll wear my badge... a vinyl sticker with big block letters adhered to my chest
That tells your new friends I am a visitor here...
I am not permanent
And the only thing keeping me dry is
Where I am


You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
A stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving
Why I was the one worth leaving

The district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights
And send the autos swerving into the loneliest evening
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving

Monday, September 15, 2008

Virgin Suicides

It's taken me a while to write about this, but here we go!

I don't know what I thought about the Virgin Suicides, really. It was okay. It was definitely an interesting style of writing. But I don't think the book itself was terribly interesting, nothing really happened. It was a whole lot of foreshadowing and not too much plot.

I... don't have anything else to say! hahaha.

Monday, August 18, 2008

The boys in the trees

Another book I got for my birthday, from Kristen and Taylor.

This is a very interesting book. There's no dialogue. There are no actual events. It's all retrospective and inside different characters heads. For this reason, it gets a little long sometimes. But it's also very interesting most times. I'm not sure it's one of my favourite books ever, but it was definitely an intriguing style.

Some good lines:

"Sitting in the hard chair besides the hospital bed, he knew that what he was feeling was the rest of his life without her."

"And in the paper-strewn kitchen in the middle of the night they talked abut how strange it was, that the person you were was perhaps formed most by all that you had forgotten."

Sunday, August 17, 2008

just breathe

I love my cottage.

I'm just trying to get enough in these short hours. Enough sun. Enough fresh air, to breath enough of that heavy earthy smell and that airy water smell. To feel enough water and grass and sand under my toes. To see enough bright purple, count enough waves.

I want this forever.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

hit me with your best shot

Okay, world. I'm ready now.

love is a mix tape

I got this from Fae for my birthday. Non-fiction, it's Rob Sheffield's memoir of his life, through the mix tapes he's made or had made for him over the years.

I loved it. It was as good as Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. Better, in some ways, because it was about music but it was so personal. It definitely reminded me of Chuck Klosterman though.

I love mixes. The fact that it's about tapes, reminded me of driving around in Blanche, in high school, playing tapes I'd made. And the way they never really worked, just like Blancher herself and just like life at the time.

Mix CDs, though, for me, are essential. Fae and I make mixes for each other all the time. I have mixes that I love more than real CDs. I make mixes that tell stories. That match moods. I've made winter mixes, mixes to dance to, mixes to cry to, mixes with one song for every month, mixes all about September, mixes to fall asleep to, Christmas mixes, traveling mixes, even a "people are dying mix."

For me, the best gift is always music.

This book was a gift, it was music and life. It was beautiful. I don't normally like non-fiction but... wow.

Good choice, Fae. <3

Monday, August 11, 2008

Seven songs

How can so much good
Exist in such a tiny heart?
Despite of all the pain she's in
She never falls apart.
And if she does it lasts the length of seven songs
She dries her tears on her best friend's sleeves and dances right along.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

How do you measure a year in the life?

#61. Make a mix CD to play at my funeral - include Dancing in the Rain.


525,600 Minutes
"Will my friends be strong, till someone plays my favourite song?"

1. Daydream Believer, the Monkees
This has always been my song. It's the only song with the ability to make me smile when I'm sad. It's me. It's mine. I am the daydream believer.
2. Blackbird, the Beatles
"You were always waiting for this moment to be free." This song stirs something in my heart. That longing to... live more.
3. Get Me Through December, Allison Krauss and Union Station
The first time I heard this song I thought, 'Of course this song exists. How could it not?' It's never lost that feeling of perfection and wholeness for me. Also, it's the first song on the winter mix CD my dad made me, one of my all time favourite mixes. I love my Daddy. This song is on there for him.
4. Samson, Regina Spektor
Never, ever fails to take my breath away.
5. Cathedrals, Jump Little Children
"There is a feeling that you should just go home and spend a lifetime finding out just where that is."
6. Affirmation, Savage Garden
My first love.
7. I Will Follow You Into the Dark, Death Cab for Cutie
8. Hey There Delilah, the Plain White Tees
Someday, I will have a daughter named Delilah. This one's for her, and for whatever kids I have and for love. Because love doesn't get any better than this.
9. Swing Life Away, Rise Against
At sixteen, this song felt like it was written about me.
10. Constellations, Jack Johnson
For the moments of feeling infinite and like there's something bigger than you. For the sky so big it breaks your soul.
11. Walking By, Something Corporate
For love.
12. For Good, Wicked
Because Fae is my Elphaba. Because there is no way to describe our seemingly chance encounter years ago other than fate.
13. Everlasting Friend, Blue October
For Fae.
14. Seasons of Love, Rent
Because this musical fills my heart and my head and constantly affects my choices.
15. The Boxer, Simon and Garfunkel
For Laura. For car rides.
16. Don't Stop Believing, Journey
For fun. For small roots and big dreams.
17. Imagine, John Lennon
Self explanatory.
18. Dancing in the Rain, Happy Hardcore
To dance. Always. To finish on a happy note.

Breaking Dawn

Yeah. While I was reading it I was thinking "Damn, this plot is even stupider than the last three books."

And yet I kept reading. Addictively. Who can understand the human need for horribly cheesy romanticism?

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

i know i have lost

I... don't know. Today was horrible. What am I doing...?

I hope this old train breaks down
then I could take a walk around
and, see what there is to see
time is just a melody
With all the people in the street
walking fast as their feet can take them
I just roll through town
And though my window's got a view
Well the frame I'm looking through
seems to have no concern for now
so for now I

I need this
old train to break down
oh please just
let me please break down

You can't stop wishing
If you don't let go
of the things that you find
and you lose, and you know
you keep on rolling
put the moment on hold
the frame's too bright
so put the blinds down low

I need this
old train to break down
oh please just
let me please break down
I need this
old train to break down
oh please just
let me please break down
I wanna break on down
but I can't stop now

svp?

S'il vous plais, ne m'oublie pas.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Way to go, Heather!


This is the official sign that someone should buy me an iPod touch. 30 GB. Anyone?

The day of my birth

You know you're getting old when your birthday becomes about making everyone else happy.

Jack Johnson concert was amazing. Listening to him play Constellations under a huge sky full of stars, with the collective energy of 40,000 + people.. it was a great birthday present.

I don't know how I feel about being 21. More to come on that one.

Friday, August 1, 2008

I'd settle for less...

I don’t need a better thing,
I’d settle for less,
It’s another thing for me,
I just have to wander through this world
Alone.

Yeah I’m gonna lose you
If I’m gonna lose you
I’ll lose you now for good.

Sad song, just nearly made me cry. Lose You, by Pete Yorn.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

qui va fermer tout ces fenĂȘtres?

Je rĂȘve d'un jour ĂȘtre completement bilingue. Ou bien, au moins beaucoup plus bilingue que je suis maintenant. Je suis entrain de dire çela entre des centaines de petits erreurs dans mon Ă©criture.

Je pense que j'ai toujours prit mon Ă©ducation bilingue comme fait, et je n'ai jamais vraiment travaillĂ© pour maintenir ce cadeux que j'ai reçue a un jeune Ăąge. Meme ĂȘtre capable de parler at ce niveau c'est quelque chose que je n'apprecie pas comme je devrait.

Je me pense bilingue, et je dit toujours que je suis bilingue, alors je pense que je vais essayer de pratiquer pendant cette année pour l'ameliorer.

Depuis seize ans, je rĂȘvĂ© d'un jour dĂ©menager Ă  Paris. Je ne sais pas pourquoi Paris en particulaire, mais il y avait quelque chose qui m'ai tire vers ce ville.

Un jour, peut etre ca arrivera. Je ne sais pas. La seule chose de quoi j'ai certaine maintenant c'est que ma vie n'est pas certaine. Mais je l'aime comme ca. Je pense...

C'est facile de parler des rĂȘves qui sera perdue, dans une langue que je suis entrain de perdre. Plus facile que de trouver quelque chose concret ou de trouver moi-mĂȘme.

Je sais que la début c'est si solitaire que la fin.

A prochaine, peut ĂȘtre en anglais.

Monday, July 28, 2008

London Calling...

My Faerie and I are going to live in London. In the Bloomsbury area, near King's Cross station, to be more precise.

FAQ

Q: Why?
A: Why not?! Seriously, London is a city where life happens. It's got character and charm and history and culture. It's a fabulous place to be young.

Q: Don't you know that London is like the most expensive city in the world?
A: Yes. This is why I'm saving money.

Q: What are you going to do there?
A: More interesting things than I'm doing here.

Q: Where are you going to work?!
A: Well, I'll have my BJ by then. Ideally, I will be a coffee/tea bitch for the BBC. Or I could work in PR. Or be a tour guide of somewhere. Or I could waitress or bartend or whatever. I found a job in a foreign city once before, I know I can do it again.

Q: No you're not.
A: That's not a question and yes, I am!

I just thought I'd set the record straight that this is going to happen, in September of 2009. No one really believed I'd live in Ireland either, but I did. And I survived. And I'm doing this too. After all, it's better than getting a real job.

Today, we're daydreaming about tube stations and I'm going through the old budget calculations. I want to wait a year, but I know it will take that long to prepare and save! Plus, you know, I have to graduate.

Speaking of graduating, I was also looking up Master's degrees today. I'd like to do one in Classical Archaeology or Ancient History. Eventually.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

New York, New York, it's a hell of a town....


I guess it's time to talk about my past weekend in NYC. Let's see... where to start?

It was bloody. fucking. hot.

I have never sweat so much in my life. I was literally dripping sweat. It was disgusting. It was especially gross because we were walking so much.. and also it got worse when you were underground in the subway waiting for the train. Ewww.

Another thing Fae and I decided.. we are too pale and too poor for NYC.

I don't know what to say, really, other than I've been to London, Paris, Dublin.. and I've never been defeated by a city before. I really found it mean and busy and frustrating. And exhausting. And you always had to pay to sit down. It was quite ridiculous.

It was fun to see Strawberry Fields, the Statue of Liberty (which Fae assures me is important if you're American), Central Park, ground zero, ten floor Macy's, Brooklyn Bridge, Broadway, Times Square, etc etc...

But I don't think I'll go back. At least not until I'm rich. It had all the busy touristness of London, but none of the character. I just.. really didn't enjoy it. And a lot of the time I didn't really feel very safe. I don't know. It just wasn't anything special.

Seeing the musicals was AMAZING though. I saw Spring Awakening twice and Rent once! It was... awesome. Very very awesome.

Of course, the trip finished on a horrible note. They cancelled my flight out of New York on Wednesday night, because of some storm, and I had to "sleep" in the airport. I think I got about 40 mins of sleep max... it was freezing cold and horrible, I was sleeping on the floor. And then finally got a flight to Ottawa and got in a 9:40 the next morning... went home, showered and went to work for 11:30. Where I stayed until 9. And almost died.

It was awesome to see my Faerie though. I think it just made us both look forward to London (a MUCH cooler city) a lot more.

Shopaholic and Baby

Book number seven. Hey, I never said they had to be good books.

I think this one was my favourite Shopaholic book. It was fun to read. I really do like the style, it's very entertaining.

What more is there to say about a Shopaholic book?

Saturday, July 19, 2008

The movie

I just finished watching Running With Scissors, the movie. Maybe not the best idea RIGHT after finishing the book...

It was a good movie. It was really sad. But... it lacked all the humour and sex and drugs and insanity of the book! Which really was the best part. The book was interesting, the movie was just depressing...

Must go pack for NYC!

Running with Scissors

It's been less than a month and I've already read 6 books. And six times twelve is like.. seventy two or something (okay, clearly my skill is in reading, not mathematics.)

I had intended to read this book on the airplane tomorrow, but I guess I'll have to find another. I just started reading it on Thursday, I didn't expect it to go so fast.

Running with Scissors was... psychotic. Definitely. Is there any other way to describe it?

There are times in the book where you want to laugh, cry and shudder. It's hilarious, but also sad and disturbing. But best of all, it's honest. That's the thing I liked the best about it. Everything seemed so real, so honest. Augusten Burroughs is a very entertaining writer.

Some favs (some of them are WTF lines, others are funny, others very true):

"The sour smell of old milk cartons, egg shells and emptied ashtrays filled me with pleasure."

"It was my secret hope that the door would fly open on the highway and I would tumble from the car, rolling onto the highway where I would be crushed beneath the tires of the Barstow onion truck behind us. Then my father would be sorry he wouldn't let me have the coffee table."

"For exactly the same reason, it is sometimes satisfying to cut yourself and bleed. On those gray days where eight in the moring looks no different from noon and nothing has happened and nothing is going to happen and you are washing a glass in the sink and it breaks - accidentally - and punctures your skin. And then there is this shocking red, the brightest thing in the day, so vibrant it buzzes, this blood of yours. That is okay sometimes because at least you know you're alive."

"After was better. Before was only there so After could happen."

"..and then I fell in love with him only he turned out to not be worth loving, I think I'm angry with him about that."

"If you get to be a writer and be all those different people, then I get to be at least two things."

I really enjoyed this book. Lots to think about. And while I'm heard of some psychotic families... well... holy shit. Hahaha.

I'm going to watch the movie now!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Lavinia

I was amazed when I found this book at Chapters. 1) Lavinia! I'd never even thought about taking such a minor character in the Aeneid and writing a book! Clearly, no one else had until now. 2) I've always been very interested in Ursula K. LeGuin as an author, though I haven't read much by her. This is because I absolutely love a couple of her short stories, and an essay I read by her. She's a beautiful writer. The problem is, a lot of her stuff is a little too sci-fi for me. Also, I once attempted to read Tehanu. Which I got about half way through and still didn't understand. This, I have concluded, is my own fault because I should have read the other three books in the series first. Which I also own. But Tehanu had the prettiest cover... hahaha.

Anyway! So, Ursula K. LeGuin + rewrite of the Aeneid (Penelopiad style!) = a must buy.

I think I read the first half of this book holding my breath. It was gorgeous. It just seemed right to me, the character, the ideas. The idea that Lavinia had no voice in the Aeneid, that this was her voice... it was wonderful. I adored it. I fell in love with Aeneas as she did, as I think all Romans did when they read (or heard) the Aeneid. Lavinia has had lots of criticism on the more modern approach, saying that it wasn't accurate, it was too romantic, etc. But I think that that was the point. It was a modern epic. Because epics are supposed to be like that. Romance and reshaping truth.

I think what LeGuin said herself in her afterword was really how I felt. She said that she wanted to make these people Roman. She wanted to show them as the first roots of the Roman Empire, she wanted to show how they would have seen themselves and each other. And it suceeded.

It reminded me of watching 300. A lot of people criticize 300 for not being historically accurate. But what people don't realize with the ancient texts is that there's no separation between history and myth. Myths are true. The inexplicable heroics are true. To them. So for me, 300 is the movie that Herodotus or Thucydides would have made if they could make a movie. More propaganda than fact, but the truth is there, whether factual or not.

The point of Lavinia is to tell the story again (to use a Winterson-ism). To tell it in a way that two thousand years after the Aeneid, we would understand it and feel it and be a part of it. In myth - in greater truth rather than in true fact.

Some favourite lines, as usual:

"But then I think no, it has nothing to do with being dead, it's not death that allows us to understand one another, but poetry."

"I know who I was, I can tell you who I may have been, but I am, now, only in this line of words I write. I'm not sure of the nature of my existence, and wonder to find myself writing."

"My mother was mad, but I was not. My father was old, but I was young. Like Spartan Helen, I cause a war. She caused hers by letting men who wanted her take her. I caused mine because I wouldn't be given, wouldn't be taken, but chose my man and my fate."

"The poet sang me the fall of Troy, his story told of the king's daughter Cassandra, who foresaw what would happen and tried to prevent the Trojans from letting the great horse into the city, but no one would listen to her: it was a curse laid on her, to see the truth and say it and not be heart. It is a curse laid on women more often than on men. Men want truth to be theirs, their discovery and property."

"They lived and died as women do and the poet sang them. But he did not sing me enough life to die. He only gave me immortality."

LeGuin admits that she is in love with the words of Virgil. This is very apparent in the book. Lavinia, aware of her fictiousness, aware that she is created by a poet living hundreds of years later, also falls in love with Virgil. It's lovely. A tribute to Virgil, and rightly so.

All this being said, I found the end of the book a little less exciting than the beginning After the death of Aeneas, LeGuin went on to summarize the rest of Lavinia's life in a very narrative way, which sort of lost my interest in parts and really lacked the insight and character of the first half.

I really love this new trend to reexamine the classics (obviously). I also love this new(ish) idea of a text that is aware of it's textuality. Of characters aware of their own fiction and storytelling. There's a real word for this, but it escapes me right now.

Lavinia was, in my opinion, well worth the read, and much better than the Penelopiad if it need be compared. Though it did share a lot of the themes of the Penelopiad (feminism, retelling, characters aware of their own fiction and grounding the epic hero.)

Makes me want to read the Aeneid again. The Aeneid, I would say, is written with much more craft and ease than its predecessors, the Iliad and the Odyssey. Virgil tells a better story. However, Homer tells a better battle. But that is a nerdy discussion for another day.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

The Day of the Triffids

Today I finished the Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham.

I read this because I loved the Chrysalids. I must say that I probably enjoyed the Chrysalids more, but the Day and the Triffids was still very interesting.

I have a thing for dystopia and end of the world books. It's my minor foray into the world of science fiction. I love the idea of human nature and society, and what happens to humans when you take away the rules and the control.

I also loved the idea of the world ending, basically, with very few survivors, in the Day of the Triffids. This being, mostly, because I'm still in the process of writing the part about Deucalion and Pyrrha in the Metamorphoses. And I was interested in what others thought it might feel like to be one of the last people on earth.

Lonely, I think, is the consensus.

The Day of the Triffids was an interesting book. A little dull, in parts. It's not my favourite style of writing - it's written as if the main character, Bill, is giving you his history. Things are told, they don't really happen. Which I find works in two different ways. For one, you don't really get pulled into events in the plot. But secondly, you do get more insight into the ideas and theories behind it. Because it's written from perspective. So Bill can tell you, "This is how I felt now, and six years later I realized that..." Which makes it more of an interesting study in human nature and ideology rather than an actual story.

I did really like the book, however. It definitely made me think.

The best line, in my opinion:

"And we danced, on the brink of an unknown future, to an echo from a vanished past."

The Day of the Triffids was much ore interesting in terms of theory than plot, but it made me think and I enjoyed it. Plus, it's a classic, right?

Lighthousekeeping

Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson.

You may have noticed my recent love for Jeanette Winterson. Ever since I read Weight, I've been in love. Winterson writes the words I'm thinking, the words I can't find. She writes the way I wish I could write, the way I wish I could think. Every single word means something. It's like food for my creative side.

I try to mark off the pages where there are really good lines in the books I read. With Winterson, I always chose almost every page.

I've read Weight, Sexing the Cherry and now Lighthousekeeping.

All three books are about stories. About telling stories, about life stories and about being a story. It's brilliant. They are fact and fiction and neither. They are absolutely breathtaking from beginning to end.

Lighthousekeeping was exactly what I was expecting from Winterson, and even more. It's about love and storytelling and the real meaning of truth. I have to put up some of my favourite quotes, though it will be hard to choose, because this book really caught me.

"Tell me a story, Pew.
What kind of story, child?
A story with a happy ending.
There's no such thing in all the world.
As a happy ending?
As an ending."

"You must never doubt the one you love.
But they might not be telling you the truth.
Nevermind that. You tell them the truth.
What do you mean?
You can't be another person's honesty, child, but you can be your own.
So what should I say?
Whem?
When I love someone?
You should say it."

"This is not a love story, but love is in it. That is, love is just outside it, looking for a way to break in."

"I'll call you, and we'll light a fire, and drink some wine, and recognise each other in the place that is ours. Don't wait. Don't tell the story later. Life is so short. This stretch of sea and sand, this walk on the shore, before the tide covers everything we have done. I love you. The three most difficult words in the world. But what else can I say?"

The main character, Silver, is born lost. Fatherless, she belongs to a crooked house and crooked mother. When her mother dies, she belongs to no one and nowhere. And so she is sent to live with Pew, the blind lighthouse keeper, and become his apprentice. From him she learns how to tell her own story, how to write her own life and find her own truth.

And I truly felt as if, by the end of the book, I had found a little more of my own truth, my own story.

With every Jeanette Winterson book I read, my envy and inspiration grows. She is truly amazing. I wish I had her words.

The Host

The Host, by Stephenie Meyer. I devoured the Twilight series last summer in Ireland, I was completely addicted to them, despite my original annoyance with the writing style.

I was not disappointed by the Host. I call it crack fiction. Addictive, not necessarily the best for you. But I really enjoy reading books purely for pleasure sometimes, mostly thoughtless and entertaining. It's why I read Nora Roberts (sometimes), and definitely why I read the Twilight series.

However, the Host proved to be a lot less thoughtless than I'd anticipated. This book is geared a little bit more towards an adult audience, which I definitely appreciated. I like what Meyer does. She does it well. I can definitely understand why so many people like her books. Her biggest strength is characters. You can't help but fall in love with her characters. Her books are so full of love and fear and raw emotion, that I often found myself tearing up while reading the Host.

In the Host Meyer went one step past just good characters like in the Twilight books. In this book, the plot was fairly decent, too. What can I say, I love a good dystopia/end of the world book. And to have created a whole new world.. well, that was pretty cool.

The only thing I can flaw Meyer for, really, is the fact that her characters are a little too perfect, her endings a little too happy. But I think that sometimes that's a really good thing.

I thoroughly enjoyed the Host from beginning to end - I read it in less than three days. It wasn't life changing, but it was certainly entertaining.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

The Gathering

I was just telling my Faerie on the phone, I've decided to add a new level to this "read fifty books in a year" challenge. I'm going to attempt to write down my thoughts on the books after I read them!

So, first.. The Gathering by Anne Enright.

I was really excited to read this book. It looked so good. However, it took me a while to get into it. I think that Enright was trying to hard to make the beginning a mystery that I got very confused. I didn't know what she was talking about half the time.

But, when I got further into the book and started to figure out what was happening, the words made much more sense and I could relate to it a lot better. This is about when I started to realize the best part of this book: the beautiful one liners. The incredibly insightful, gorgeously written passages that seem to come out of nowhere - or out of the most ordinary things, anyway - and take you by surprise and make you whisper, "Oh."

Some of my favourites:
"I realized, too, that I was not in love with him, but condemned instead to a lifetime of such false intensities, that I would have to love each man I slept with in order not hate myself."

"..where men are men and their hearts are easy. I know that these men exist, I have even met them, it is just that I could never love one, even if I tried. I love the ones who suffer, and they love me. They love to see me sitting on their nice Italian furniture, and they love to see me cry."

"It seems that the years of my adolescence were years of increading innocence, because by sixteen I was completely passionate and completely pure. We would all become poets, I thought, we would love mightily, and Liam, in his anger, would change the world."

"I try to believe in something, just for the heck of it. I pluck some absolute out of the air, some expanding thought that will open in my head like either - God, or the future, or the greater good. I bow my head and try to believe that love will make it better, or if love won't then children will."

The Gathering is about memories and loss and love and sex. It is unflinchingly sexual, bringing up the idea that all things are really about sex.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Reading Rainbow!

I got this from someone on facebook.. and I thought I wasn't going to do it. But I've decided to give it a try. I'm going to read 50 books in a year. Do it with me!

1. The Gathering by Anne Enright

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

It's such a wonder that I think I'll stay in bed...

I often wonder how other people see me. Actually, I always wonder that. I'm sort of obsessed with it, and it's the root of all my self consciousness. I don't know why I really care...

But the thing that scares me the most is that I might be right. That all the horrible things I'm thinking about myself that I think they're thinking too... really is what they're thinking.

I think I think too much.

I've always wanted to be someone I'd see as beautiful.

part of this terrible mess that I'm making...

I'm sort of at a loss of anything to say, I'm a little bit of a roller coaster these days. I don't know. I wrote this whole post blathering on about ridiculous things that mean nothing. But I've just deleted it. Because it's just an excuse for me to not go to bed.

i'm looking for someone
but i don't know his name
all the faces before me
well, they all look the same
but there's got to be one face
and one pair of eyes
that'll light me on fire
when they're looking in mine
oh, I'm looking for someone
oh, I'm looking for someone
who's looking for me


always this ridiculous obsession with love

Thursday, June 12, 2008

nunc aut numquam

I'm through accepting limits, 'cause someone says they're so...

I was thinking about this line while listened to Wicked the other day. And I decided something.

I am the only person who holds me back. I let life get in my way.

Other people believe in me a lot easier than I do. Other people support me a hell of a lot better than I support myself. All of the things I can't seem to do, or get right... they're because I keep making excuses or because I don't believe I can.

I'm not going to hold myself back. I'm going to give every second of this life every effort possible, ever ounce of my strength. Because I'm going to be 21 in a couple of months, and what have I done? There is no day but today and I need to remember that. And not regret a single day. Not spend my life waiting for something better in the future.

This post has been brought to you by inspiring lines in Broadway musicals!

Monday, June 9, 2008

close to nothing at all

Jesus Christ, my hair is long. I'm constantly amazed by it.

Also, you can watch pictures change on the side of my blog here. Exciting, isn't it?

"Ooh, look, shiny button.."

Sunday, June 8, 2008

there was never anyplace for someone like me to be totally happy

I'm such a blathering idiot, writing things... anything to distract myself from what I'm really feeling and what I really should be writing or saying or doing...

But not tonight. It hurts too much and I am just too tired.

As if anyone cares about my classes next year. As if I even care. *sigh*

grandma said destiny'd blow me away
nothing's gonna blow me away

all my life i've been searching for something...

Picking out classes for next year. So far:

JOUR4000 - the stupid generic J class we have to take.
JOUR4207 - Professional Practices: Television Reporting
JOUR4201 (or something) - Specialized reporting.. either Arts or Science. Maybe Social Issues? Really, whichever one someone will take with me. I know I will hate whichever one I choose.
JOUR4208 - Video Documentary
CLCV2300 -Introduction to Archaeology
CLCV3201 - Studies in Greek History (the Spartans!!)
CLCV4something - some type of fourth year classics class that I have no idea what the topics are yet. Or when they are. Or anything.

This is a good distraction from the sadness in me right now. Dreaming of the future always is. Plus side is, got the official letter offering me $2500 again for next year. So at least that'll pay for my summer courses. Money stresses me out. But I should get paid (finally) on Thursday.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

just give me many chances, i'll see you through it all...

Couldn't sleep last night. Again. Though I was exhausted. Think I must've slept about 3-4 hours total... the best of which was right before my alarm went off, of course. This better not be a habit...

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Still awake...

Bah...!

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

just passing through...

I'm not tired, don't want to go to sleep. But I have absolutely nothing else to do. Surprise, surprise.

My life is so boring it hurts. I'm always waiting around for pieces of other people's time. Thanks for making my days off oh so much fun, world.

I have so many thoughts running through my head. I've been in a really sad mood since Friday. I wish I had someone to talk to. But instead I'll go to bed and lie awake for hours because I can't get my head to shut up.

having a ball (har har)

I'm sitting on a giant red ball.

I've decided I'm getting my next tattoo in September, and I want to get it on the back of my neck. But to do that I need better posture, or else it will look horrible. So... this is the plan.

This is how exciting my life is.

Monday, May 26, 2008

The Flood Myth

The next part of my book that I have to write is Deucalion and Pyrrha, the end of the flood.

All mythologies have a flood myth in their beginning. Noah, obviously. Deucalion and Pyrrha for the Greeks and Romans. Utnapishtim for the Sumers, from the Epic of Gilgamesh. Nata for the Aztecs. Manu for the Hindus. Cessair in Irish myth. Korean. Aboriginal American. Egyptian. Chinese.

"Many cultures have myths relating to one or more inundations, referred to as the Flood or Deluge, sent to eliminate the human race, usually with an advanced warning to enable a few to survive to repopulate the world." - J. A. Coleman, The Dictionary of Mythology.

The flood is always to punish the "sins" of man. Man, once made in the image of the Gods - a creature above all other creatures on Earth, has transgressed, has fallen to chaos and discord. And so, water - the great equalizer - falls from the sky to wipe away Man and press the reset button on mankind. Always, there is a man chosen to survive. Deucalion.

So what does this man - the chosen man (or in some cases the chosen woman) feel? Think? Want? Remember? Do?

The earth is of utmost importance in Ovid's version of the myth. Imagine what Deucalion feels the moment his feet touch dry land. Imagine the first taste of food. Deucalion is a sailor returning from months at sea. But what is he returning to? Nothing. The end. No, the beginning. A new beginning. Just him and Pyrrha. His wife, whose name means fire. I imagine that legs itch to run against the simple solidity of rock and dirt. I imagine that he bends to pick up a handful of dry sand and watch it slip through his fingers. These fingers, there are only twenty of them left in total. The toes that bury in the earth - there are only twenty of those as well. And the eyes that survey what's left of the world - the swept clean, silt lined, downtrodden world - there are only those eyes and two others. What a mighty task that awaits them. One man, one woman. To repopulate the world and rebuild the cities. And all the time, to tell the stories that will prevent this from happening again. His story. The story of his father, Prometheus, who gave fire to Man. The story of Zeus and the Titans and the beginning of the world. The story of the downfall of the ages of man. What stories he must have in his head to tell his children and their children. To tell the race of men that spring from the rocks they cast behind them, the bones of the earth. The children of the Earth. Mankind are born from Gaia, from Mother Earth.

My musings on the flood myth, and on Deucalion, as I prepare to write about his first steps.

Plan to be surprised...

I watched Dan in Real Life today. I thought it was supposed to be a comedy, I feel like that's how they marketed it.. plus, Steve Carrell was in it. But it's not. I actually found it really sad. And cute. And I loved it. It made me want to curl up and eat peanut butter and banana sandwiches (comfort food... don't ask).

I loved the part at the end where he was like "What advice should we give our young people about plans? Plan to be surprised." I love that. I think I've always felt that way, especially about love. I plan to suddenly fall madly, irresponsibly in love, someday.

In short, I thought it was a really good movie. Of course, I'm far from a movie critic - I tend to love most movies.

Friday, May 23, 2008

the sky would be so big that it broke my soul...

we meet here for our dress rehearsal to say
I wanted it this way...
wait for the year to drown

spring forward
fall back down
I'm trying not to wonder where you are...

I want to tell the story again.

I want words like crushingly good songs, words with power and meaning, words that steal the wind. Words that follow each other like the right notes, words that go together like the four right chords to make me cry. Words like those first bars where your heart swells in your chest and the world fades away. I want words that make me weak, for the power of them.

My words tonight are butterfly's wings.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Dear Mr. and/or Mrs. Sender...

I followed some links on my friend Lea's journal, to a feminism website that entertained me for a portion of the afternoon. The Hathor Legacy is a website that examines TV, movies, etc from a feminist point of view.

I honestly don't know what I think about feminism. I've been in enough English classes to resent someone saying that every piece of literature has to do with feminism. I've also been attacked by feminists for my apparent lack of sensitivity. The terms "feminist" and "feminism" are loaded for me. I mean, technically it means that you believe in equal rights for both sexes. But it has grown to mean so much more. If someone is a Feminist do they automatically think that everything is about repressing women? The word has come a ways from it's roots. I suppose like a lot of isms have, communism for one. Not all feminists are man-eating bitches. Not all communists are Soviet spies.

My problem is that I can't figure out where I stand. Do I believe in equality? Absolutely. Not just for women, but for all people. But do I believe that our society has a serious problem with repressing women? Not as much. I believe that women have come a very long way in the last century. And sure, there's probably room still to grow. But I don't really see it as being one of our biggest flaws. Racism and homophobia are much bigger problems today than chauvinism or patriarchy.

Another problem I have is that I do think men and women are different. Inherently. At the base of it we are all mammals, after all. And in every spicies on the planet, males and females differ. Biologically, we are made differently. Females are made to be nurturers. And to stay close to home. Why? Not because females are weaker. But because they're more important. They make babies. If they die, there are no babies. If males die, well, one male's sperm can impregnate a whole species of females if it has to. Biologically, females are supposed to be protected.

Now, before anyone gets angry with me, I know that that isn't the case in a modern society. I know that I'll never be a stay at home mom. I know that some women aren't nurturing, and there's nothing wrong with that. Things have changed since we were animals. But that doesn't change how we're wired. Men and women are built different for different tasks. They think differently. They move differently. Neither better than the other, but for different purposes.

I have come up against a few examples of repression in my life (though hardly any). Someone told me once that photography was a man's profession because you had to carry all the heavy equipment. And I did resent that. Which is why I'm so torn.

The basic truth, though, is that I want to have babies, and would probably give up my dreams to do so. I like cooking and baking and taking care of people. (I don't like cleaning though... THAT trait has to be learned, there's obviously no biological use for it). And I like men who are Men. I like feeling protected. I do want a guy to open the lid of the jar, or to scare away the bird. I'm a girl, so what? Does that make me a traitor to the movement of women's rights? Besides all of these things I am also intelligent and motivated and obviously going somewhere in my life. So where do I fit in the feminist spectrum?

Maybe I don't understand enough about true feminism, maybe I only see the stereotype. That's what the website showed me. It's really insightful. I suggest you check it out.

I still don't want to hear about how everything in the world is about feminism, though. Sometimes, it's really not.

making things difficult

I've been making a conscious effort to steal from the music industry less often. I even bought the new Death Cab for Cutie CD.

I saw Prince Caspian tonight (which, by the way, is wonderful) and they had a beautiful new Regina Spektor song in it. So, I decided that I would buy it on iTunes, and be nice. Because I love Regina and I loved the movie.

Of course, iTunes wouldn't let me buy just that one song. I would have had to buy the whole album. Which I don't want. This happened last week, too, when I was going to buy that Nora Roberts' Lifetime TV movie (yeah, I know) Blue Smoke, with Alicia Witt. For Alicia Witt, I swear. Anyway. You could buy it on iTunes, it said. Apparently, only in the States.

So all of my best efforts to not be a thief have failed and now I am downloading the new Regina Spektor song. Sorry, Regina. Put it on one of your CDs and I'll buy it.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

beneath the blue suburban skies I sit...

I'm sitting here staring at the cursor blinking against blank white. I have no idea what to write. It's just that sometimes I need to. I sit here and stare and need and the Beatles play.

I don't have words for loneliness. I have words for skies and rain and anger. But I have never been able to find words for this emptiness.

Here I stand, head in hand, turn my face to the wall...

I know things. I know histories and stories and smiles and tears. I know scars and laughter. I know infinite. But I do not know a word for this. Maybe some other language has a word. A language better suited to melancholy than English. English pretends that all is well. We have no word for this. I think there is a word in French, but now even that escapes me.

escape?

You've got that something, I think you'll understand.

There is a whole lot of saying nothing. If I had a word I could pin it down and maybe I could breathe.

Friday, May 16, 2008

I need you so much closer...

Distance has been a defining feature in the last decade of my life. Imagine what it's like to have a twin - the inseparable, speak your own language, always together kind of twin. And then imagine what it's like to only see that person for a couple of weeks a year.

I miss my girl.

Wish you were here, willow. Amin mela lle, vanima Faerie.

you wonder if you missed your dream...

Can you measure the distance between past and future with the present? There is always so much distance, when I want to be close. There are miles between people standing side by side and people miles away are cheek to cheek.

"I don't miss the past. I miss the future with you." - Fae.

My life cannot be mapped, as I am always living in worlds that don't exist. The past. The future. Imagination.

I am lost in the Minotaur's labyrinth. Or maybe I am hiding.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

i heard you say the past was much more fun...

I am such a history geek and I love love it. I spent the day looking at artifacts and talking about people who lived over 100 years ago.

I think it would be really awesome to get into archeology or museology or something like that....

I can't wait to take my archeology class next year! Also, Latin starts next week!

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Pinhey's Point



For anyone who's curious, this is where I'm working this summer...




Not too shabby, I'd say.



These are pictures I took (black and white film, which I scanned) when Courtney was working there two summers ago. I'm going to take more this summer, I promise. The best part is being on the water. It's like working at my cottage. I love it. And did I mention that I get to where a costume?

Monday, May 5, 2008

what are you hoping for?

From a conversation with Kaitlyn today, paraphrased.

"I think you have to let yourself be happy. I spent a lot of high school determinedly unhappy, because that's 'who I was' at the time. But it's just as fake as pretending to be happy. I always thought I was a pessimist. But now I think that might never have been true, I just didn't let myself think otherwise."

I've been thinking about that recently. What makes someone an optimist or a pessimist? Are you born that way, taught that way? Think that way to fit in? Is it really as simple as half empty or half full? Is it about outlook or choices or situation?

so far away

all people are always reaching and falling, reaching and falling.

Where did all this distance come from? Distance I can't map. Distance further than my fingertips can stretch. Distance from A to B, but also from decision to decision, from thought to thought and all the space between. I don't want to let go. I don't want to be reaching.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

there is a season...

Happy May 4th.

One year ago today, I left for Ireland. Today, my work visa expired.

I'm not really sure what I think about it. It's been an interesting year. I wish I was still in Ireland, but I keep reminding myself that by the time I left last August, I was done with it. That was my past, and it was awesome. This is my future - and it has potential too.

Each part of my life is different, feeding a different part of me. Last summer fed my spirit, my adventure. This summer, I think, is going to feed my mind, my academic side. Next summer will be about endings and beginnings. So I can accept that, and maybe even embrace it.

But it's still a little sad. It's very easy to miss escaping real life.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

there are places I remember in my life...

Well, let the poets cry themselves to sleep.
And all their tearful words will turn back into steam.
But me I'm a single cell, on a serpent's tongue.
There's a muddy field where a garden was,
And I'm glad you got away
But I'm still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet
From your brother's tears

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

if the world should fall apart, hold on to what you know...

All the stars are out tonight it feels as though I might
Make some sense out of this madness, will it turn out right?

I finished reading The Joy Luck Club, which I had to read for my Culture and Society English exam on Thursday. I didn't expect to like it - the reason I don't take more English classes is that I have a hard time enjoying books I have to read, especially when I usually tend to leave them to the last possible minute (I'd like to say due to the time demands of journalism during the year - but the truth is that I would probably procrastinate anyway).

But I did.

It made me think. About women and their mothers. It's hard for me to see my parents as people of their own right, with a past and a future and even a present that isn't all about me. This selfish idea, I have realized, is a priceless gift my parents gave me - to make me feel like I was their whole life.

Daughters and their mothers, particularly, are difficult. The book was about how we all go through life thinking our mothers are ruining our lives, or are the bane of our otherwise ordinary lives... but we don't realize how much we are a part of them, and they of us. That the things we see in them that we may not like are likely projections of what we see in ourselves that we don't like. And every mother tries to fix her own mistakes for her daughter. It was very interesting.

It made me think about my parents. Another question in the book, repeatedly, is "What's inside of me?" and one woman tells her daughter about what parts of each of her parents she has. And I was trying to think of what parts of me my parents have given me.

I am the daughter of a woman who was one of the first in her family to graduate from university. A woman who became a nurse because she wanted to care for people. A woman who cares far too much about everyone and everything - a gift and a curse which she passed on to me. But a blessing, in a mother, because I grew up always knowing that I was loved - that I mattered more than anything. I am so proud of my mother and her choices in life. She has worked hard her entire life. She has risen through the ranks of the hospital, and is now the nurse educator of medicine. She is the most honest person I have ever met. Given a food budget of $60 a day on her work trip last week, she told them she didn't need it. That she only used $40 a day. Because she felt like she'd be cheating them out of $100. My mother is someone who won't spend a cent on herself, but will turn around and give me $100 to buy new jeans, just because I want them. My mother gets excited over paying $1.25 for a giant bag of M&Ms.

I am also the daughter of a man who fought his whole life for every scrap of what he achieved. My sister and I jokingly call it the Montgomery Luck - almost nothing falls into our laps and we learn to fight hard for what we want. But I'd like to call it the Montgomery Perseverance. My father, who didn't even technically graduate from high school, remains one of the smartest people I have ever met. He is completely competant in everything he does. He has this hilarious blunt manner in which he can tell someone they're being an idiot and get away with it. My father has worked so hard his whole life. And never harder than this year, to keep himself and everything together when his life's work - his store - fell apart. I'm so proud of him for being strong and being determined. And for the success of 25 years. And not despite the failure at the end, but because of it. Because I know he's going to come out the other side.

Both of my parents had difficult pasts. Honestly, I don't even know half of it. But they managed to get through it all and raise my sister and I pretty descently, as far as I can tell.

From my parents I got my sense of pride and respect. They raised me to be myself - and to be firm in what I know, to acknowledge what I don't know. To never let anyone control my life but me. I got my ability to care with everything in me, even if sometimes it proves to be too much. I got my love of knowledge and learning. I got my stubborness. My "scrapiness", as my sister would say, and my perseverance. I got fire, the fight to protect everything I love like a tigress. I got my giggle and quick blush from my mother. I got my eyes and how they see the world from my father.

So I guess that's what's in me.