Black Licorice

blurb from my school paper

2011-11-29T17:12:00.000-08:00

A voice left unheard is a voice lost. The implications of this in both the future of an individual student and the future of our society are huge. Helping a student to find their voice at a young age will help us to foster strong voices that speak up for the injustices in our society in the future. These voices are what will shape our future.

2011-09-27T18:37:00.000-07:00

the chant is like an echo
dropping from my mind
a distant memory

dropping from my mind
the chant is like an echo
a distant memory

my socks are in my suitcase

2011-08-24T22:40:00.000-07:00

Life has been going much too smoothly in the past little while. Many things that should have been more stressful have fallen into place, like the way my socks fit perfectly lined up in the groove of my suitcase. I have begun to worry about that unpleasant substance arriving and hitting the fan as it usually does whenever things start to work out too nicely for me. However, people will begin turning their fans off now that the cooler weather is beginning to arrive.

Anyways, while things were going so lovely and smooth again today I started to think of how to describe how lovely they were going. I tend to think in similes, actually tend is an understatement, I almost always think in similes when I'm attempting to describe something (to myself). They are not always good, its just how I make sense of situations in my head...

So here's the one that kept rotating in my head today for some reason:

It's like I'm a kid on Halloween and I've just found the house giving out the full-sized chocolate bars.

2011-08-12T07:59:00.000-07:00

A healthy, happy society just doesn't riot.

Art, yo

2011-07-05T07:43:00.000-07:00

'I think the joke is on... I don't know who the joke's on - really. I don't even know if there is a joke.' Exit Through the Gift Shop is one of those films you really can't write too much about. Because the minute you do, you're starting to over-analyse. But I love it because it makes a great statement (or non-statement) about the art world today...

2011-06-04T19:40:00.000-07:00

I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centrelight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
Jack Kerouac - On the Road

And there are people out there who claim not to like literature...

This post may not be "politically correct"

2011-05-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

I've recently finished reading Ayaan Hirsi Ali's Infidel. The book is basically her memoirs starting from her childhood in Somalia, following through her various moves around Africa and her eventual escape to Holland. I can't say enough how I think everyone should read this book. You don't have to agree with everything she says, but what's great about it is that it really makes you think and it gives you a perspective on Somalia, Somalian immigrants in the West and Western countries' stances on integrating, assimilating, accepting (whichever you believe) foreigners into their states.

One thing that sticks out is the perspective the book has given me when considering the challenges immigrants face when moving to a new country - gaining this type of perspective is invaluable to anyone who has grown up in a country as diverse as Canada. I experienced a little of what Hirsi Ali describes when she first moves to the Netherlands when I was in France, I can understand the mental cage you could so easily get trapped inside if you react negatively to the challenges that face you instead of taking them on. There were times when all I wanted to do was surround myself with other English speakers - I could have so easily hid away in an English community. I wouldn't dare to say that my experience in France was as challenging as someones who is first arriving in the West, but I can see that the temptation to reject a new culture, language etc. is there and I can see how it can be so appealing. What Hirsi Ali does is give you the background to understand the differences in Somalian cultural (inevitably tied with religious) values and the way they transfer themselves to a Western country. This hit home having had a few friends in the past whose actions have definitely eluded me. I wouldn't take Hirsi Ali's word as truth, she writes from her point of view, but what she has to say is definitely enlightening.

Yet, to counter this perspective, Hirsi Ali harshly critiques the Dutch (and other Western countries') tendency to favour cultural relativism when accepting immigrants' cultures, religions, and values into their commuities. For someone who spent 4 years of her undergrad discussing the issue of cultural relativity, I've never really considered this one before. It's sometimes hard to turn the finger on your own culture, but Hirsi Ali forces you to. She basically says that the Dutch (she doesn't lump all Western countries together, but I think the critique can apply to many of them) are too accepting to a fault - that allowing Somalian, and other immigrant communities, to continue living as they did in their home countries is detrimental to Dutch culture, values and eventually to the stability of the state itself. Once she forced me to, I can see where this comes from. Just look at my undergrad - anthropology is a subject that is pretty much dedicated to understanding other cultures, answering the 'why's' of different groups of people. And its a subject that sprung up in the west (yes, it didn't have the most cleanliest of beginnings, but it arose from the need to understand). I would argue that this need is part of our culture, and its something like a large scale example of 'curiousity killed the cat' that she is warning us of. We learn, we digest, we understand up to the point where Hirsi Ali claims we could deteriorate the environment that was such a safe-haven for refugees like herself. To hear this from someone on the outside, who critiques the way the country, which accepted her as a refugee, allows her people to continue living the way they did in Somalia, is definitely effective.

I originally intended just to tell you to go read the book, I could go on for longer but I think its better if you just pick it up yourself and see what you get out of it. It's not a hard book to read, sometimes repetitive, but definitely worth it.

I wanted to post so here is a post...

2011-05-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm done working 60+ hours a week at three jobs I can actually think again! And I've been thinking about what I should write about next. Various things have crossed my mind, like how I despise any term that starts with 'post-'. This I ran across in a graffiti book I own yesterday; the term was 'post-graffiti'. It made me cringe. I will save this topic for another time. Other things like more anecdotes from kindergarten, my hatred for cubicles and other such office related anger were other popular topics in my mind. But really right now, at this very moment, its a time to make it personal. Writing is a form of therapy yes (?) and this is, I would argue, why most writers write to begin with. They do it for themselves, and if it can enlighten or interest someone else than all the better.

I'm entering transition time again, every year for the past 4 years I have lived in a different city, with a different group of friends and each time I've either started new or re-newed old acquaintances. I never meant it to be this way, so far its just turned out so. I told myself when I moved back to Canada from France that I would stay somewhere for at least 2 years - I would settle myself, I would try to be grounded. I've failed. The minute I step onto new or old soil this ridiculous part of me wants to move on again, I have a constant urge to keep on going. I exhaust myself. When I'm somewhere new I can't stop talking about going somewhere newer, when I'm somewhere old I can't stop talking about going back to the new. It's a constant problem. I have trouble understanding people who aren't like this sometimes. This can be a problem too. Every part of me resists staying still and money, if there is spare, will be put aside for future trips to Mongolia or Syria - or internships abroad for school (this being the next escape plan).

All this I have come to admit about myself this year - if I think about it, it's the way I've always been. And recognition is the first step right? I'm not trying to fix it, because I don't think its a problem anymore. It may be different from a lot of people I know who are more settled with furniture and cars and dogs and are ok being in the same place for the next 20 years. But I've realised that for me, a physical place is never going to make me feel grounded or settled - it'll be something else. When I know what that is, maybe I will settle somewhere... for a bit. But at least I'll know I'll be able to take it with me, wherever I go.

et voila, un petit peu de mon coeur pour vous.

Fancypants

2011-04-17T20:52:00.000-07:00

I have many many amazing friends. Sometimes its quite overwhelming. Today I'd just like to tell you about one of those wonderful people. She's probably one of the most trusting, brave and free-spirited people I know and I envy her for it all. I really do. She's the sort of person who, on first meeting you, will trust you until proven otherwise. I can be very much the opposite at times - I'll work up my trust for people but if they let me down or betray me, I'll crash hard. My friend, she seems to assume you're just as amazing as her with no grounding to base it on and she makes you want to think so well of people too.

She'll travel across the world on her own, with no clear idea of what she's going to do, but hej that doesn't matter cause she'll meet some interesting people on the way, have some crazy adventures and most definitely learn something new. She'll hitch hike and couch surf solo and always seems to find people to help her out. She's one of the few people I know that has successfully stepped off the conveyor belt - but maybe they don't make them as restrictive where she's from? She's like the real life Luna Lovegood, eternally cool because she doesn't need to be "cool", living free and dealing with everything as it comes and not worrying about it beforehand.

Her most recent risk? The Fancypant Clothing Co and the reason for this schpeel.

She'll probably deny everything I've said about her, but hej you thats what I see and this is what friends do. And yes I did just relate you to a Harry Potter character.

2011-03-26T16:53:00.000-07:00

Because I think I might just self destruct if I have to endure another lunch room conversation in which, after stating that I studied Anthropology in university, I get something like, "oh ya my nephew loves that stuff, dinosaur bones and shit." NO. just NO. no.... NO dinosaurs people. NONE. Its called social science. go educate yourselves. Heres a nice little wikipedia link for you. Just... just don't emabarass yourself going on about dinosaurs anymore... I just... just can't even be bothered to correct you anymore because theres just TOO many of you. Just read a teensy bit so that you know ANTHRO ≠ dinosaurs. Ever. please.
you make me sad because its such an exciting subject and the fact that you don't even know what it is means you are missing out on so many interesting things!

RESPECT FOR TREES

2011-03-14T19:50:00.000-07:00

...was travelling cross province-ish today via train and saw lots of trees. People are always talking about how humans are such magnificent machines - well... trees are better. Especially the coniferous variety... those things are SURVIVORS. Anyways it was lucky no one was on the train with me.

We should all take some life lessons from the TREES...

This post will have lots of links!

2011-03-11T08:38:00.000-08:00

Today I'm thinking too much about Land. Mainly the land I'm living on at the moment. There's something about living in this country that makes you think about Land. A lot. Ownership of land. Rights to land. Land claims. History of the land. Destruction of land. And so on. I recently watched a movie called Black Robe, it wasn't a particularly good story but the landscapes were beautiful and so truly North American. I see images like the ones in that movie and I think wow this place must've been absolutely amazing to see before the Europeans came and built roads through it, started clear cutting the forests. I went to see Niagara Falls a few summers ago and yes, it is still impressive the way it is but I can't even begin to imagine the sort of experience you would have stumbling across it in the wilderness, seeing the falls before half the water was diverted for hydro, without the scum of human development surrounding them.

I don't know the land nearly as well as I feel I should. I'm a descendant of Europeans. Many of them came here because they were too poor to live in Europe anymore, they came because there was land. Lots of land and if they could survive the winters, make the land work for them then they could have a better life here. Others came because of famine or they had no choice, like my great-grandfather who was brought over as a home child. The same rules for the immigrants of today, they come more out of necessity than for any other reason. We're a mish mash of people, none of whom have a solid connection with the land. There are no fables passed down through our ancestors about the land we stand on, we have no tales that our so grounded in the forests and rivers, nothing that makes us feel them breathe - not really.

I remember in my Canadian lit class we were talking once about the wilderness in Canadian literature - a topic which crops up quite often. Our professor, a massive Canadian lit enthusiast, asked us if we, those of us who'd grown up here, felt a connection with the land. Most of us said we did - we could site camping trips we'd taken as children, hikes we'd gone on, or little portaging trips in high school - we knew the land that surrounded us. But, I'd argue, not enough to really understand it. Sometimes I'd say, I feel just as out of place in it as my European ancestors must've.

Its those stories that are missing. We haven't been here long enough to have the land pass into legend. But there are those who have. I'm not Native and I don't understand a Native sentiment, but I can see how, if you're ancestors have occupied the land for longer than can be counted, if the stories of your people have been passed on from generation to generation and they are all rooted in the land you stand on - you might understand and feel a connection to it stronger than your 5th generation Canadian. We read the story of the turtle in school and others from other nations. I never really appreciated them. I'd been brought up too Christian to understand, but it feels like that religion just doesn't follow here. It's not rooted in these places.

As a kid being home-schooled by my mom I remember sitting at our kitchen table and learning about the native tribes. I remember asking if they could have had a tipi right outside in our backyard. She said they just could have and this fascinated my 7 year old brain. I stared out the window and tried to imagine how it would have looked. But they weren't my ancestors and I knew that even then. I grew up reading English and Irish fairy tales, grounded in a land I never really imagined I'd get to see. The lands filled with myth and mystery were far away, never here.

I suppose the point of this ramble is that I think I need to learn more about the Natives, especially the ones who inhabited this land, the Odawa and others who lived along the Ottawa River. Its something like trying to get a grasp on the place you inhabit, its the anthropologist in me maybe - we always talk about stories and myth being so important to understanding a people and a place. As a part of this mish mash society, maybe we need to understand it all to get a grasp on who we are now.

A philosophical discussion occured...

2011-03-01T08:27:00.000-08:00

in my senior kindergarten class this morning.
It went something like this:

Nathaniel: No one is the boss.
Trinity: Some people are the boss.
Aryan: Teachers can be the boss, right?
Ahmed: Family is the boss too sometimes.
Mya: God is Boss.
Aryan: God... God is only Indian, you know.
Mya: God isn't Indian!
Ahmed: God is BOSSSSSSSSSSSSS AHHHHHH.
Nathaniel gets a confused face, I'm not sure he knew who God was...

the conversation continued with the same phrases being repeated in different orders. then it was snow time.

kindergarten is great.

OK People,

2011-02-24T19:17:00.000-08:00

Sometimes... all you need is a MuhASSIVE dance break in your kitchen. What you don't need is to forget to write down the name of the artist you were rocking out to on Radio3 because then you spend hours looking up all the electro-y bands whose names start with C and the list is long.

you know NO ONE IS WATCHING YOU... so go take that caraaazy dance break now.

and check out Radio3 cause you know... yer good ol' Canadian music is quite good, eh.

I'll post something more intelligent next time. peaaace.

2011-02-21T08:09:00.000-08:00

the final sense (if the plot had been a fine one) will not be of clues or chains, but of something aesthetically compact, something which might have been shown by the novelist straight away, only if he had shown it straight away it would never have become beautiful.

The words of E.M. Forester quoted in a foreword to A Passage to India. I think they go quite well with my previous post.

I'm a pinko-gray

2011-02-15T19:50:00.000-08:00

I'm in the middle of reading E.M Forster's A Passage to India, and, as I do sometimes when I find myself completely engrossed in a book (other than the fact that I start to talk and write like the book itself) I feel the need to share.

I'm not a literary critic, and I never will be. I found out after dropping my Professional Writing major for an English minor that the two are most definitely not alike. As much as I enjoy writing essays about books and stories I always approached them more as an anthropologist than as a critic. Pretentious English majors with their thick rimmed glasses, vests and cigarettes in hand were the bane of my existence; and I often found myself going head to head with their thick-headedness in class. I remember one particular fat-headed editor of a school newspaper once telling the class that censorship didn't exist in the world anymore. Quite matter of factly. Anyways, the point is not to make myself sound better than them but to simply state our differences.

Critics, in their oh so critical way, tend to strip a book or story of its essence. They leave the words bare and then try to make meaning of them. Picking and choosing symbols and motifs and squeezing out a quote to fit into their 'this is what the book is' schpeels. I'll say straight out - I don't think there's anything wrong with this. I think that literature should be a constant dialogue that is in flux, that changes depending on its reader, that is always up for interpretation and re-interpretation. What I don't like is when those critics believe their search will unveil an ultimate truth. It never will.

We sometimes forget that novels, and short stories alike, are works of art. Like when Picasso interprets his wife in a painting, so does a writer interpret their surroundings with words. A book is like a process of self discovery in which the writer tries to make sense of his or her experiences, society and so on. If we read constantly in search of the 'hidden meaning', the ultimate reason behind the book's existence, we'll inevitably miss out on those gray areas. Its the confusing bits where the writer contradicts himself, reveals his vulnerability, that the heart of a book lies. And it's here that I think we're most likely to find the value of literature; where we can open up a dialogue with the text and begin to challenge ourselves.

This is why I will never be a critic and this is why I love both reading and writing. A writer is a philosopher, who expresses not an ultimate truth but a million possible truths.

In A Passage to India one of our protoganists finds himself impersonating one of those gray areas, not quite sure how to fit into either of the two societies which surround him.

The world, he believed, is a globe of men who are trying to reach one another and can best do so by the help of goodwill plus culture and intelligence - a creed ill suited to Chandrapore, but he had come out too late to lose it. He had no racial feeling - not because he was superior to his brother civilians, but because he had matured in a different atmosphere, where the herd-instinct does not flourish. The remark that did him most harm at the Club was a silly aside to the effect that the so-called white races are really pinko-gray. He only said this to be cheery, he did not realize that `white`has no more to do with a colour than `God save the King`with a god, and that it is the height of impropriety to consider what it does connote. The pinko-gray male whom he addressed was subtly scandalized; his sense of insecurity was awoken, and he communicated it to the rest of the herd.

Poor Mr. Fielding, in a way I feel that he is Forster, trying to articulate his place in not only the British Empire, but in the wider world itself.

story time

2011-01-26T20:16:00.000-08:00

I'm writing a story. I haven't written one in a long time. If I finish it on time I might actually enter it into a competition, because it was the competition theme that inspired me to write it. I was just typing up what I've written so far (because I always write by hand first) just to see how many words I'm at and I thought I'd share this snippet with you:

When I was young I used to imagine what it would have been like if he’d made it home that night. If wrong turns hadn’t existed, as if everything was circular and no matter how far away you went you always ended back home. My imaginary life was filled with laughter and whiskery kisses on my cheek. But I stopped myself – for her. I felt if I imagined too much she’d know and I couldn’t bear the thought of betraying her.

Let me know what you think :)

overthinking, overanalysis

2010-12-12T20:22:00.000-08:00

Time goes by way too quickly, just a minute ago it was 9:00 and now its 10:06.. ?!?!? and yesterday it was Dec 1st and now all of a sudden its the 12th??? I think time is cheating me.

This post will have two parts
1. Semantics:
I just had another thought about semantics. The way we always say "they" to refer to that group of others who produce our material culture, decide which courses to offer us at school, basically anyone who has decided what we have the option to consume and how we consume it as well. We all do it. We'll be standing in front of a magazine stand and one of us will wonder out loud "I wonder why they decided to put so and so on the cover?" and the other will respond with some possible theories or simply think "Do they ever have a reason for doing what they do?" We talk as if "they" are looming above us sending things down for us to consume... or at least that is how the idea manifests itself into my head. But why do we imagine this "they" as sort of higher up individuals, they are most likely walking among us as we gaze at the magazine stand. We could even be they. In fact, I know some 'they's. But for some reason the word, in this context, signifies a mysterious other. Someone we don't know, have no control over but has some sort of omniscient power over us.

Language is just such a big cultural signifier. In this "they" case I think it says something about the way we perceive power structures in our society today. "They" in many of our minds do loom above us giving us a sense of powerlessness to make change. We take they for granted as if they were always there and the decisions they make out of our control. Some people aren't even aware they exist.

2. English:
Since France, I've started to see English in a completely different way. Sometimes I'll look at the way I've spelt a word and second guess myself thinking it looks completely foreign (for example I actually did just dictionary.com 'they' because for a second there the combination of letters looked really bizarre to me). This happened a lot in France. I'd be teaching a class and then I'd look on the board and think my god English is a bizarre looking language. Having a bunch of French students spend a whole class laughing because "I put my foot in my mouth" is a common phrase really makes you look again at what you say. Like 'phrase' I mean why on earth did we put a p and an h together and make it go ffffff?!? Anyways, French makes more sense to me even if I'm not fully bilingual. I'll look at French and think yes yes that makes sense and I'll look at something in English and think it looks like a bunch of gibberish if it weren't for the fact that I understand it. What an awful Latin/Germanic bastard language that I somehow was born into. Oh but I love it. What an awesome language English is and what a horribly biased thing to say. It is so much fun. As this article states " no masculine, feminine, neuter, acute, grave or cedilla" give English "its witty flexibility, its gift for pun and double meaning". I'd like to see the exhibit that article is talking about. A bunch of words on old paper aaahhh what a beautiful site that would be.

2010-12-06T18:08:00.000-08:00

Walking home from the station while the snow is decidedly falling on a horizontal angle is not such a good idea. However, the sparkles the snow makes when they reflect the lights is just so very pretty it makes the whole walk worth it.

So I've decided to give up this reverb thing. Mainly because I'm not so inspired by the questions they keep asking. Maybe they will get better? I will try and post my own thoughts on the past year and plans for the next as December lumbers on and maybe that on its own will have some interesting results...? As my one of my "flatmates" from last year always said, "On verra..."

In the meantime here is a beautiful animation to entertain you:

no dipppp for my chiipppss...

2010-12-03T20:41:00.000-08:00

Anyways the point of this post is to do the reverb10 question before tomorrow. I have 1 and a half hours. Here goes!

December 3 – Moment.
Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

This. one. is. really. hard. Mainly because of my mind for the past few years. It's just been on pause really while the rest of me does cool exciting things. I've met interesting people, been interesting places, traveled the farthest I've ever been away from home to visit one of my best friends, yet still I wouldn't use the word 'alive' to describe the way I've felt. So I'm going with the first thing that popped (almost wrote pooped there it's been a lonnng day) into my head. This would be that trip to London. Two days and only 2 hours by train from where I was living in France but this trip just continues to stick out in my mind. The weather was bright and cold (that nippy at your nose kinda cold where you're not too cold but in the perfect middly kind of cold). Went to meet someone I knew from York for drinks the one night we were there. Some people just manage to get you talking about things you'd forgotten you loved to talk about because no one had talked about them with you in ages, nothing particularly mind blowing but it was nice. Went to the Tower of London the second day of bright sunniness and I think if I could hug a museum I would hug this one. It was just very much worth my 14 pounds. It's like when I went to Monet's gardens in Giverny, it was just one of those childhood dreams to see the place that I had read about as a kid and never really had imagined I'd get to see in real life cause it was so far away. Anyways, to conclude, I think this was one of the only times this past year that I've felt my mind has really been fully present... in the present... and I think, in general, that when you're present like that and happy with it those are the times when you feel most alive.

i almost didn't do this

2010-12-02T19:11:00.000-08:00

but i said i would and i will and ill stick to it i will.

December 2 - Writing.

What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?

I go to work each day. And no I can't eliminate it because I'm dirt poor. For awhile I was writing poems on empty receipts during morning shifts when I was alone and bored. Maybe I'll post those on here someday they're not half bad. But the joy of blissful morning shifts has been sucked out of me by the Christmas gods. One thing I would like to do to write more fiction is pick a day each week (the same one so it becomes a routine) and go to a café and sit and write for a few hours. Maybe I'll get around to asking friends if they would like to join me. I work better when I can tell people about my ideas as I write them... or write for awhile and then run it by someone else. I just work better in a pair.

reverb10

2010-12-02T07:51:00.000-08:00

The lovely Hezabelle has taken on the reverb10 challenge and has inspired me to try it too. It's going to be one crazy busy month with work and christmas preparations and school applications to finish and more school applications to begin, but I thought it would be nice to have something steady to do every day. Basically you're supposed to reflect on the past year and "manifest what's next" by using daily prompts from reverb10.
I missed yesterday's so I'll do it now:
December 1 One Word.

Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

Challenging
2010 started with a great bang. I celebrated its arrival with a good friend in Edinburgh and then spent its first days wandering around a bright sunny and perfectly chilled London. I just turned the calendar I bought for half price at the London Transport Museum to its last page and it doesn't feel like its been a year. Yet, despite these hopeful beginnings, the year was an emotional and mental rollercoaster. By moving to France I hadn't given myself time to deal with previous years' emotional issues and I arrived in the country a bit of a nutcase. This, coupled with my worrying about the future starting around mid-February and trying to articulate all this in French to my new friends, resulted in a very stressed steph. All in all a challenging year.

Scholarly
By December 2011 I hope for nothing more than to be buried in a big noisy university library being a massive academic nerd - preferably in a city with underground transport or at least streetcars that go ding ding ;). I never realised how much I liked studying until I finished. I want to sit with a bunch of puffed up academics who make too much money and debate debate debate. That or in a classroom learning how to teach. I'm stupid, I need to learn more. Despite my reservations with academics and the education system, I don't know enough. In order to break the system down you have to know it first. And I'm willing to add to my pile of debt to get there.

Ah education again, a subject I like

2010-11-26T18:20:00.000-08:00

This is basically the sort of thing I've been saying since High School and my Mom has been preaching about since I was home-schooled (till I was 8). But since these RSAnimate people just do such a good job of explaining exactly how I feel about our education system I'll let 'em at it.

There is one thing they do leave out here. And that is that students are always always resisting. Wherever there is a dominant paradigm there will always be resistance to it. Students do it all the time, they do cheat, they do collaborate with eachother, they even discredit the marks they get simply by not letting it govern their lives. The power of a mindset is too often overlooked. Just imagine what education could be if the constrains of traditional schooling were lifted.

I've been thinking though, how do we start changing our education system around so that it is a better model for today's children and society? It's a lot more complicated than simply saying "it's not working but here's the sort of thing that would". We'd need to first break down what's not working - a task that could take more than simple years to come about. Institutions like schools are so embedded in our social system on so many different levels that even to change it minimally would take years. And then, what do we change it to? I feel like there are an infinite number of possible directions a new education system could take, all perfectly viable to try - but which one? How does one decide how to completely rework such a fundamental pillar of our society?

These are just those mind boggling questions I wish I could answer better. And maybe I will someday. In 100 (200?) years maybe they will look back on our society and think what silly silly 21st century humans, did they really think that was a good idea? In fact, I'm positive they will. They'll have moved forward as we always strive to, or perhaps they'll have simply moved - to try something different.

2010-11-21T18:20:00.000-08:00

Yup just a song I like, tis all.

kindred spirits

2010-11-19T20:01:00.000-08:00

there was this very sweet old french man at work today who just made things just feel a little bit better. he was waiting to speak to my manager but i decided to ask him if he needed help, he responded in french and when he saw i understood he started talking to me about learning languages. i think one of the first things he said was "you should learn french, italian, spanish... just for fun not because it will help you get a job!" and i think my heart just swelled after he said that. that's exactly why i wanted to go to france after stockholm, just for the experience of learning a new language. its so rare here that you get that sort of attitude, french is literally forced onto everyone who already has a job with the government and then its forced onto those who don't just so they can get a job and as a result you don't really get much positivity towards it. you try to talk to people in french and they just switch into english because you have an accent or your vocabulary isnt perfect. it was just really nice to talk to someone who was so enthusiastic about you learning his language.

i think ive been having a bit of trouble living that sort of attitude lately - not just with languages, outside circumstances start to bog you down and you forget. you just need someone with the same heart to say something like that more often and shock you back into the way you'd like to be living.

2010-11-14T19:26:00.000-08:00

too many long posts. here's a short one. and a picture of a parka ive been drooling over. just imagine the winter fun that could be had in this thing. this with my ski pants and my new FAT knitted mittens and a hat under that giant furry hood... you would never want to go inside i would just roll and roll in the snow until some killjoy who doesnt like winter as much forced me to go inside. bring it on winter i am ready for your harsh winds, your icy rain, your blizzards and your flash freezes. i am so ready for slipping down my driveway every morning on my way to work.

Alright people, it is Confession time.

2010-11-09T13:09:00.000-08:00

Since the next Harry Potter movie is coming out in t-minus 10 days and many a person seems to be caught up in Harry Potter mania (re-reading the books, HP movie marathons, arguing about HP facts in the streets, etc.) I thought I'd join in with a little Harry Potter confession of my own. Ok here goes Iusedtowriteharrypotterfanfiction. Yup you read that right Harry. Potter. FanFiction. Now I'm going to make it sound like it was a cool thing to do.

It all started with my Grade 7 teacher. She introduced us to Harry Potter by making us read the first book for a school project. I then spent the next two years reading and re-reading the first 4 books. I was a huge Harry Potter nerd. I corrected people when they pronounced spells wrong and made everyone pronounce Hermione HerMOINE because I thought that was the right way, I was an HP bully. I also finally gave up my childhood crush on Wesley from Star Trek (c'mon you know who I mean... the doctor's son? no...?) to crush after Ron Weasley... in the wizarding world everything was possible, redheaded boys could be good-looking, I was sure of it.

Luckily this mania had started to fade by Grade 9, but another secret mania began. I've always been a writer, in high school I don't think there was a time when I wasn't writing something. I even remember sitting in the mall by my work writing before I had to start. So, naturally my two manias from this time of my life eventually converged in the form of FanFiction. And I had fans. Yup, people emailed me if I didn't finish my next chapter in time. I got hate mail from fans who wanted to know what happened in my stories next if I didn't update them fast enough. By Grade 11 though real life had just got too busy to allow me any time for updating. I never finished either of the stories I had started. I remember getting one email from a reader complaining about an unfinished story. I responded saying something like 'I'm sorry I'm in Grade 11 its a stressful time of my life, theres a lot going on' etc. etc. She responded telling me she understood, she was in 2nd year University. I thought that was so cool... I had a fan in university.

I think I only ever told one friend that I was doing this while I was writing. I might've told others afterwards I can't remember. But I always sort of felt it was socially unacceptable to be writing fanfiction (why on earth would I have thought that?!). Now, though, if I think about it... that was pretty cool! I mean how many other 16 year olds were writing pretty much full out novel sized stories and had readers to boot? I was really organized too. I recently found a notebook where I'd written out chapter summaries - so that I knew what was supposed to happen when and how to lead up to events I wanted to happen later on. I mean sure I'd stolen the setting but some of the characters were my own and the plot was all me. Basically, I think it was really awesome and I shouldn't have been ashamed of it at all.

So there you go, that's my confession. And if you can't handle it you can just go shove a Crumple Horned Snorkack up your....

Discovering what's on the other side...

2010-11-03T19:56:00.000-07:00

...of the river. When I first got to France and my new students found out I was from Canada, they bombarded me with questions about popular French Canadian music groups or artists. Not recognising any of the names, I had to describe to them the extent of the divide between French and English Canada. I felt completely ignorant about whole cultural phenomenons whose existence was revered a short bridge-walk away. I've spent most of my life living on the Ontario side of the Ottawa River only really crossing over to Quebec in summers to go to a heavily anglicised cottage-country. Sure, we took multiple school trips to Gatineau where the Museum of Civilization sits but, to any English Ottawan, thats still Ottawa. I had never taken any interest in French Canadian culture, or if I did, it was to listen to bands from Montreal who had started singing in English, or a mix of both, and were being played in clubs and bars in Toronto. I never realised how Anglo-centric my view of Canadian culture was until these French kids, thousands of kilometres away, started outsmarting me with their knowledge of Canadian artists (writers, artists, musicians alike). It gives you a bit of a shock when you're standing in a French classroom and a bunch of kids are telling you about a singer they like who found his fame only a few short hours away from your hometown, or a TV show they're streaming that was produced in Montreal. Weird.

So now that I've found myself back in Ottawa for the time being I am trying to take advantage of the city's strategic position on the border of this Canadian divide. Understanding the language ten times better helps every day, although I find myself a walking stereotype of "English Canadian learns French in France and can't understand a word of Quebecois". Yet, I'm understanding French-English jokes way better than I used to and, as a result, am picking up on cultural cues. A friend of mine, who has worked on her French and is pretty much fluent, introduced me to a show called Les Invincibles. Hilarious show about a bunch of guys who make a pact to break up with their girlfriends at the same time and the resulting consequences. I've recently discovered it was remade in France for French television. There's this whole cultural exchange between France and Quebec which I, as an Anglophone, had completely missed. My sister also recently led me to discover a French Canadian group who were apparently huge from the 70s into the 80s. They started in Montreal and my mother (also an anglo), who grew up there, had only vaguely heard of them. Here is one of their most popular songs, which, now that I understand the lyrics, I've come to love. They're called Beau Dommage and the song is La complainte du phoque en alaska .

The song is telling the story of a seal who finds himself alone on an iceburg after his 'blonde' has left him for the circus in the United States. It's just a very pretty song, I especially like this lyric:

"Ca n'vaut pas la peine de laisser ceux qu'on aime
Pour aller faire tourner des ballons sur son nez"
It's not worth the pain to leave the ones we love
to go spin circus balls on our noses (but much prettier sounding than that)

I still have a long way to go in understanding French Canadian culture, but its been a really interesting start. You never know what you'll find just across the river.

Our society and its twisted discourse

2010-10-28T20:31:00.000-07:00

Every once in awhile you encounter a situation that makes you step back and think about how society shaped the way you dealt with it. At work a few days ago I was a little taken aback by a very inquisitive customer. He was in town house hunting and was a little bit too excited to finally find a native working in one of the shops. At first I thought I was dealing with a case example of "man comes in looking for his wifes lotion in hopes to surprise her with a lovely thoughtful gift" and began using my skills of fragrance deduction to discern his wifes tastes. However, the conversation went something like this:

"Does she like floral or fruity scents?"
"Are you from here? Like I mean were you born here?"
"Uh ya..."
"Where are the good neighbourhoods you know good for families I'm up from Toronto house-hunting"
"Uh... well I grew up in Barrhaven its great for families, full of them" (people call it Vanhaven there are so many although I didn't think this was an appropriate comment)
"Oh Ok whats the real-estate like there?" (do I look like I know anything about real-estate I'm trying to sell you body butter!)
"Uh I wouldnt know I'm with my parents at the moment..." (not that I would know these things anyway...)
"Oh you're back with your parents? What were you doing?"
"I went to school in Toronto."
"Oh what did you take?"
"Anthropology."
"Oh ya I have a cousin who does that he's doing really well right now doing a dig up in Northern Ontario right now finding some really interesting stuff."
"That's Archaeology..."
"Oh what's Anthropology?"
"Study of cultures... basically...."
"Oh... .... what do you do with that?"
"Well nothing right now I'm saving up for teacher's college."
"Oh ok... so what were you showing me?"

At first I thought 'that was a nice digression from the regular drone of boring closing shifts'. Then I thought 'creepy he just found out shitloads about me so incredibly effortlessly - I just spoonfed him my life story and didn't even think twice about it'. Thirdly - wait a second what was with the "What do you do with that" question? And why did I react to it that way?

His question just got me to thinking about how education in our society is seen to be something you do that will take you somewhere. We go to school so we can become something - a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, a dentist, a boring government employee - but we seem to rarely portray education as simply education. Advertisements for post-secondary institutions constantly state their stats for graduates landing jobs afterwards, departments make lists of jobs that you could pursue with their degree. It's like from high school we're looking at education from a top bottom perspective. Your counselor will make you first find out what you want to be when you're done and then help you find out how to get there. I didn't realise how ingrained this way of thinking is until I noticed how effortlessly I threw off that customers "What do you do with that?" question, as if it was something completely normal for a stranger to ask.

The more I think about it the more I realise how twisted it is that the average persons first remark after you tell them what you studied is "what do you do with that?". And how scary it is that my first reaction was to answer it plain and simple. It's like we've all forgotten what education should be and what post-secondary education can be. If you're going to spend four years of your life studying something and get yourself into 20 grand worth of debt then I think you better be loving every minute of your time there. If our counselors just asked us to go pursue something we found fascinating and then let our futures shape themselves from there than I think the result would be a much more open minded and innovative population. Without the constant stress of the "will I be able to get a job when I'm done?" question and the ever present pressure of the impending "future" maybe more of us would actually be able to engage in our education.

Looking back I wish I'd answered him with, "It doesn't matter, I spent 4 years studying something I found really fascinating and I really enjoyed it and isn't that what education should be about? It gave me an interesting perspective on the world, its people, why we live the way we do and how we came to be this way too and that's enough of a gain for me to have made those years worth it."

you know you're home when...

2010-08-19T10:09:00.000-07:00

1. everyone has something to say about the weather. always.
and
2. your friend says, "you know -15 C is the perfect temperature in the winter, cause -10 starts to feel too warm and - 20 is just a bit too cold."

hahah oh canada. lately I've been missing the French rain for some odd reason. summer is just so... sunny here.

nice morning music

2010-07-30T06:19:00.000-07:00

Listening to some nice Ohbijou in the morning while you go about your morning stuff...

and so it continues...

2010-07-07T06:30:00.000-07:00

what I encountered in a job description today:
...
Other Merit Criteria and Conditions of Employment

•Organizational Needs which may apply for this position.

Selection may be limited to members of the following Employment Equity groups: Aboriginal persons, visible minorities

Statement of Merit Criteria

Applicants who meet the above criteria will also be assessed against the Statement of Merit Criteria for this position.
...

So based on merit, only after your colour has been assessed.

2010-06-30T09:24:00.000-07:00

"For the purpose of employment equity, "members of visible minorities" means persons, other than aboriginal peoples, who are non-Caucasian in race or non-white in colour. Based on this definition, are you a member of a visible minority?"

this question is just wrong

for the poetry lovers

2010-06-24T19:01:00.000-07:00

For those of us who like poetry, I give you Hello Poetry

This is why babies are so squishy

2010-06-23T19:14:00.001-07:00

redheads as 'visible minorities'... ?!

2010-06-10T11:46:00.000-07:00

When you apply for most jobs in Canada, escpecially government jobs, you come across the 'visible minority' question at the end of the application. You are asked to state your 'ethnicity' and if you are a visible minority, or better yet aboriginal, you will have a better chance of getting the job. One application I looked at today actually specifically "strongly advised aboriginals and visible minorities" to apply in the job description - not specifically stating they would have a better chance but it was quite clearly implied. Being just as unemployed as my "visible minority" equivalent of course I find this very frustrating - but that is another debate I'm not getting into today.

On the other hand I'd like to discuss what counts as a 'visible minority'. Can I count myself as a visible minority? To most of the population on an unofficial basis I quite clearly am. The official definition of 'visible minority' refers to skin colour - but what about hair colour?! If we considered hair colour as well as skin colour then there wouldn't be any debate... I am quite clearly part of the smallest visible minority group in the country. I mean if we are going to superficially favour people with a certain skin colour why can't we extend that to hair colour as well? Why don't we include height too? Shall overly tall people and overly short people continue to be discriminated against?! Oh the injustice...

Don't even get me started about how I feel about ticking off the 'white' box when identifying my 'ethnicity'. I think next time I'll go for the 'other' box. And when asked to specifiy I'll just write 'I can legally work in this country, you don't need to know anything else'.

2010-05-30T05:52:00.000-07:00

Strange to think that words, when placed together in a certain way, can evoke emotions. How strong a few letters can be when they are placed in the right order. Simple lines and curves can cause a body to shake, tremble, cry, laugh - how important language is! Of all human developments, language must be the most impressive.

you might not wake up in the morning...

2010-05-07T12:49:00.000-07:00

i admit it... i am quite a lot of crap at writing blogs. oh but life goes on... on and on and on... that is something i can almost gurantee. although the catacombs we were in in paris today would like you to think differently. translated from french one of the quotes said something like, "wake up in the morning thinking you might not make it through the day, go to sleep at night thinking you might not make it to the morning." i suppose if you can manage to go to sleep happy and wake up to something you love than these words dont have to be so ominous. ah and so we continue

I wish I had a river to skate away on...

2010-01-26T12:31:00.000-08:00

...No matter how much world there is still out there to see and no matter how far away from home I'll go to see it, I don't think I'll ever spend a winter away without having this sentiment exactly. It's just about this time at home that the canal opens up and those bright sunny frigid days begin to settle in. I don't think there's too many people in the world that love those bright sunny frigid days as much as I do. There's no denying it, I'm definitely at my best in winter. Sometimes others just put it so much better than I can, so I'll leave this one to Joni Mitchell's River it's a little out of season but it still hits the spot.

2010-01-21T03:43:00.001-08:00

Broadcaster of the Year link

Bear with me as I flesh out my Identity

2010-01-14T06:21:00.001-08:00

“Moi, je suis canadienne.” I say it as if it actually means something, as if defining myself as canadienne will actually help my listener understand who I am. I’m female yes, that we can tell by the pronunciation of the last few letters, but what else? In France, telling someone you are Canadian is just asking for a bit of confusion. “Ah! Quebecois!” Is usually the immediate response. No, no I’m not from Quebec, but I did spend a significant amount of my childhood there and I’m from Ottawa (do you know it?) which sits on the border of Quebec. “Odawa?” Yes Ottawa it’s the capital of the country. “Ah O-t-t-awa,” Ya that’s the one. “Mais, les canadiens parlent francais oui?” Well yes some do... I’m still working on mine. This is the point in the conversation where our French friend usually turns to someone from a more recognizable place, like England where they most surely speak English, or Germany, where there is no question that German is the official language; Or even the States, a country that’s pretty much universally recognized. If I was French Canadian maybe we’d have more in common, but as it is I’m an Anglo-Canadian from a bilingual city, who isn’t quite fluent in French, who studied in Toronto (where the second language is most likely Chinese not French), spent almost a year in Sweden and is now living in France. It’s a little much for someone whose previous knowledge of the country was restricted to the province of Quebec. But still, with all this in mind, what does canadienne say? And how do others interpret ‘Canadian’ if we can’t even define it ourselves?

I’ve recently started reading Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady, I’m only about a quarter of the way through but it’s hard not to notice that the thing is chalk-full of comparisons between American and English culture. The fact that the book was written in 1881 just demonstrates how deeply rooted these differences were and have continued to be up to the present day. We have Isabel, the American lady who has come to see her relatives in England. She is interestingly ‘class-less’ to her English relatives, with a set of manners and ideals apart from the English norm. We have her uncle and cousin, who find themselves caught between English and American culture, and we have her aunt, who is quite decidedly English and takes it upon herself to educate Isabel in English ways. As I’m reading the interactions between these characters I can’t help but think how these differences in culture have continued to today and, despite the common language between England and the U.S., the cultural barrier is enough to cause quite a few misunderstandings and cultural mishaps; as it does in James’ book. Yet, Canadians aren’t Americans and Americans aren’t Canadian and that we both know quite well. So it’s all nice and good that the cultural barrier entre England and the U.S. is recognized and at least somewhat understood, but where does that leave Canada?

We tend to inevitably get lumped into American culture as generally ‘North American;’ which, for the most part, works quite well. We have a similar way of living, similar accent, we are mostly descendants of colonists and immigrants and most of us will know our country or countries of ancestry - I could go on and on. Yet, there are these underlying and subtle differences between Americans and Canadians today which do set us distinctly apart; so that when I read Henry James or another American author, I don’t relate to the Americans in the novel, but see myself as an outsider to both parties.

So, as a Canadian abroad how do you define these differences when you’re not even sure how to define yourself? How do you give the people you meet something concrete to grasp onto? Something that helps them start to understand who you are and where you come from, something that isn’t as superficial as sub-zero temperatures or a can of maple syrup.

To be continued...

2010-01-08T09:17:00.000-08:00

All the times
she'd said no
to a bright summer's morning
spun through her head

There will be many more
she'd thought
and now the words echoed
through her mind and bounced
against her skull,
spinning out
into the dark expanse
beneath her feet

As she sat there
all the faces she'd rejected
passed by her mind
and nodded goodbye
and she wondered, she wondered who they'd
been or were

And then she looked before
her and she saw the swirling mist
that was her existence
flip and spin before her eyes
it was her universe
her stars, her milky way -
it was only beginning to form.
She watched as the mist turned
to pink, blue and orange.
It's beautiful she thought

and then it faded
dissappearing into the
darkness surrounding her.

Copenhagen

2009-12-16T12:11:00.000-08:00

I've just been hearing more and more about the Copenhagen climate change summit in the news lately, mostly about the violence between protestors and the police, that I've started to wonder what are they really trying to accomplish over there? I found a nice little BBC article that answered some of my QandA's about the conference, but I'm still wondering is any of this Really going to get anywhere? The activists are squabbling with the police and the Ministers are squabbling with eachother and no one seems to really be coming to any sort of conclusion. And how many of these activists and politicians and NGO heads etc. took flights to Copenhagen while releasing some lovely CO2 into our atmosphere? Just a thought.

I'm still not sure what to make of this conference. Are the activisits really getting anywhere combatting police to get into the centre? and what's the use of the police battering and arresting the activists? For my part, I think getting angry because those inside the centre are not coming to a satisfying conclusion is just not good enough. Why are you trying to get in when clearly the system inside isn't working? Squabbling with police and singing 'its hot in here i say there must be some carbon in the atmosphere' isn't changing much. If you want your voice heard make it heard through the way you live and the choices you make, the people you influence; make a voice of your own - from the outside - instead of trying to get someone elses on the inside to say what you want. Just a thought.

I'll leave you with a photo of some angry climate protestors to keep the wheels turning. What do you think about all this?

2009-12-09T11:54:00.000-08:00

It doesn't matter in the end. It's not the End yet.

2009-11-28T01:43:00.000-08:00

Oh dear

Just Because...

2009-11-07T02:07:00.000-08:00

just because today was one of those mornings i just woke up in one of those ridiculously good moods. i was in such a good mood i jumped. several times. i jumped several times. and i was listening to The Maccabees while it happened.

Toothpaste Kisses

i'm just not a very big fan of capitals...

2009-10-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

they make the rest of the letters in the sentence seem inferior.

what does the brain matter

2009-10-15T06:16:00.000-07:00

"She was all that. So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places. Odd affinities she had with people she had never spoken to, some woman in the street, some man behind a counter - even trees, or barns. It ended in a transcendental theory which, with her horror of death, allowed her to believe, or say that she believed (for all her suspicions), that since our apparitions, the part of us which appears, are so momentary compared with the other, the unseen part of us, which spreads wide, the unseen might survive, be recovered somehow attached to this person or that, or even haunting certain places, after death. Perhaps - perhaps." Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

Nothing like reading a book at the right time in the right moment by the right author.

"...What does the brain matter,' said Lady Rosseter, getting up,'compared with the heart?'"

a subject i like

2009-10-09T09:26:00.000-07:00

Activist Teacher Blog
Because I love reading anything that is critical of the academic system. Because I could go on for days criticising the university system. When I was in high school I would mentally note things I hated about the public school system and wanted to change. And now that I'm working in France I've already started to critically think about the way the school board is run here. The Activist Teacher blog is written by ex-UofO professor Denis Rancourt and examines our educational system with a very critical eye. Sometime I agree with him and sometimes I'm not sure what to think, but most importantly he gets you thinking about how we run our classes, how we 'teach', what we 'learn', how the school system functions to support the capitalist society we are surrounded by etc. etc. etc. and what sort of 'thinkers' we are producing. Do we need to completely disassemble the system to recreate something more conducive to learning? What is the real goal of 'education'? and how do we go about reaching it? Ah I could go on forever.

Anyways, if you are like me and have sat in lecture and have thought 'why am I here?' 'what's the point of all this?' 'I'm not going to learn anything from this course... I hope I can get through it with an average mark...' etc. then you will probably enjoy checking out Rancourt's blog. Enjoy!

Bonjour from Bubbleland

2009-10-06T04:22:00.000-07:00

Bonjour!

Just a petit hello from Saint Quentin while I can access internet in the land sans internet! Not only do we not have internet in our chambres, the internet at the school and in the city doesn't always 'fonction' bien... I am beginning to think that Saint Quentin is like the little Bermuda triangle (well circle really) of France. People live here with constantly malfunctioning internet and seem to think that this is quite normal! we live in ancien times here. It's as if Saint Quentin is encompassed by a giant bubble which blocks out internet signals...

Ah mais everything else is bon and I will follow this up with some pics of the ville and some tidbits of info... if I can catch the internet cooperating...

The Perfect Tea

2009-09-09T17:17:00.001-07:00

I have found the perfect tea - 'Chai Green Tea'. It's the perfect blend of the spices used in Chai - fennel, cardamom, cinnamon, etc. - with your typical green tea taste. I stumbled upon it by accident this morning while roaming my mother's somewhat dusty herbal tea collection. She grinds her own Chai spices and makes her own tea but Chai is usually too milky and too thick for me. Fruity herbal tea didn't really suit me this morning either so the Chai Green Tea seemed like an interesting experiment. And what an awesome discovery! It satisfies the need for something more spicy and flavourful than a herbal tea and doesn't overwhelm your senses with too dark a steep and an overload of caffeine (for those of us who can't handle too much caffeine...). So, while continuing my attempt to read a french novel, I curled up and enjoyed the first of many rendez-vous with a cup of Chai Green Tea ;) Never underestimate the healing qualities of the perfect tea.

Words are not as Romantic across the Atlantic

2009-08-17T18:23:00.000-07:00

I booked my flight to France today.

I was listening to The Rentals song 'Story of a Thousand Seasons Past'. I thought the lyrics were particularly interesting.

I also started my final essay for my Romantic lit course. It will be my last undergraduate essay.

I gave up writing my essay and started searching for more Rentals songs. I came across their site. Someone is learning French in the video on their website. I thought this was nice.

Giant Crystal Caves

2009-07-22T19:43:00.000-07:00

Because I saw this awhile ago in National Geographic and just thought it was really ridiculously cool. I want to walk in these caves...

Butterless Brownies

2009-07-19T19:18:00.001-07:00

Have no butter? Fear not! you can still satisfy your brownie craving with vegetable oil! I've been trying to resist buying a new block of butter for the past week and a bit now knowing that the minute I do I'll start baking like a madwoman. However, today I overcame the barrier of having to BUY more butter by using vegetable oil instead! Oh it's a terrible terrible discovery indeed, now there is virtually nothing stopping me from making brownies whenever I want...
So I thought I'd share the doom with everyone! Here is the glorious recipe I found:

1/2C vegetable oil or melted butter
1C sugar (I might try brown sugar next time...)
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs
1/2C all purpose flour
1/3C cocoa
1/4 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt

preheat oven to 350 degrees, grease a 9inch square pan and coat in cocoa.
mix oil and sugar in large bowl, add vanilla and eggs.
mix, in seperate bowl (which I never do and it works anyway), flour, cocoa, baking powder and salt.
sift (I never do this either and it works anyway) the dry ingredients into the wet gradually and mix thoroughly after each addition.
pour batter into baking pan.
bake for 20-25 mins or until brownies start to come away from the sides.
cool completely in the pan on a wire rack.

Ah today has been a very blog filled day. Check out the updated Lascaux Du Monde and this pretty little design blog I got stuck on for awhile. Anyways that's it, enjoy those brownies ;)

TOMATO

2009-07-08T20:42:00.000-07:00

my closet environmentalism

2009-06-29T18:48:00.000-07:00

It's just so simple sometimes. I'm not an environmental fanatic, there's tons of things I still don't do to keep our planet a little healthier I admit it, but sometimes it really is just so simple. Like throwing your little paper Tim Horton's bag in the paper recycle instead of the closer and more convenient garbage can. Or remembering to fill up your water bottle in the morning instead of relying on your work's water dispensers or free water bottles (and most tap water is healthier for you anyway! unless of course you are at my cottage...).

Today I drank from a bottle of water and the whole time I was thinking about the fish in that area of the ocean where all the plastic circulates who are contaminated with little particles of plastic. I couldn't help it, the image just surfaced and all I could think about was how sick they were because I was drinking from a plastic bottle of water. I also feel bad if I forget to bring my re-usable grocery bag when I go grocery shopping. These things are just so simple to adjust to your regular habits that it just baffles me when people claim they can't or just don't bother because they don't think their effort will change anything.

But we've seen the change already with the 5 cent charge for plastic grocery bags at most stores. The fact that there are more and more people using re-usable bags out there gives me hope for the anti-plastic bottled water cause. There's just no need for bottled water. We could put all the wasted money which bottled water companies use to keep their businesses running and gear it towards providing cleaner and healthier tap water... everywhere.

Ok that's the end of my environment rant. Here are some useful/interesting links for you on plastic:

JunkRaft
World's Biggest Garbage Dump - just some interesting facts in here.
Message in a Bottle
Plastic Ocean

2009-06-22T21:00:00.000-07:00

"In your life, you meet people. Some you never think about again. Some, you wonder what happenned to them. There are some that you wonder if they ever think about you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do." (The Wonder Years)

Maybe not the most poetic way of putting it, but I just read it and it is true and it felt like a sentimental day. Unfortunately for us, we have no control over this. A mystery of our minds. Agreed?

My Public Transit Heaven

2009-06-18T18:09:00.000-07:00

I really like taking public transit. I own a book called "Transit Maps of the World" and everytime I see a new headline about the long proposed subway extension to York University I get excited. I also feel cool riding the trams... or streetcars... or whatever you like to call them. The new art installation at Museum station makes me happy. Today I was discussing my passion for turning all our urban centres into public transit heavens. Efficient subway service for all, proper streetcar lines above ground for the inbetweens. Interesting murals at every station too. And everyone would want to ride them because they would be much faster at getting you where you want to go than cars. Not to mention ecologically and environmentally friendly. Just the thought of Toronto as a happily efficient public transit city makes me smile. And we're getting there, slowly. The new Transit City LRT project has been approved for funding and there's a current bid for light rail trains to replace the old streetcars. On top of that, discussion about the proposed Downtown Relief Line has resurfaced. Although debates about the gains versus the costs of these projects are ongoing, the fact that efficient and more environmentally friendly transit is in the works - is even being proposed - is just simply exciting to me.

heels night out

2009-06-13T14:06:00.000-07:00

I don't see any problem with indulging in a little bit of dress-up sans raison every once in awhile. I bought this beautiful pair of silver and white heels at a vintage store about a month ago...

...but so far haven't had any excuse to wear them. So tonight a few of my girlfriends (also with new heels and nowhere to go) and I are dressing up and going bar hopping... solely for the purpose of heel wearing. Sometimes I wonder why I can't be one of those people who scoffs in the face of fashion and claims not to care what they wear, but when it comes down to it there's just something about finding a dress that fits you perfectly, or a sweater that's the right shade of orange (to match your red hair...), or slipping on a pair of heels that are extremely comfortable and look great. To me, style is just as relevant a form of personal and social expression as a painting or a book. It acts as a form of art that you wear on your body and how you wear and manipulate clothes to fit your style is unique to you. So instead of expressing myself through acrylics or words, tonight I'll express myself through heels. In the words of fashion icon Coco Chanel, "A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous," and tonight my girlfriends and I will be both.

online Life

2009-06-11T22:07:00.000-07:00

This is my second attempt at starting up this blog. The first time I tried to do it anonymously. I wanted it to be a sort of outlet to write down all my thoughts and ideas, mostly my thoughts and ideas about stuff that made me angry - suburbs, facebook, the school system - I was going to update it regularly and really practise my writing, edit properly and so on. Yet, like many of my grand schemes, my upkeep of the blog sort of fizzled out and eventually... died. I can't tell you how many stories I've started, businesses I've half imagined, languages I've tried to learn, scripts I've half written and so on. I'm a chronic beginner and finishing failure. So, for this second attempt, I am not committing myself to any large-scale project or leaving myself with any grand expectations. I will write when I feel like writing and it doesn't have to be snazzy, it may just be a post about something I thought was cool and decided to share. No more, no less.

Part of the reason for the re-attempt at personal blogging is my new blog Lascaux du Monde that I started with a friend. She manages to update her personal blog quite regularly and through reading her blog, and discussing our joint one, I've started to take to blogging again. Also, as Facebook is fading as an online social network (for me at least), blogging seems to be rising and of course I don't want to get left behind...

It's interesting how online social networks tend to go in and out of fashion amongst friends. First there was MSN, which most people I know started using around middle school. We would exchange emails with eachother at school so we could go home and talk to eachother online - making plans to hang out, exchanging answers to homework, (and so on...). We were the lucky generation of pre-teens whose parents didn't really understand the internet yet or what their kids were doing with it. Then there was LiveJournal. I started using LiveJournal in high school because I was too busy to be on MSN. My friends and I kept LiveJournals as a sort of way of keeping up with what we were all doing. Even though we saw eachother every day at school we were so busy with jobs, extracurriculars and so on that we hardly had time to really talk. LiveJournal acted as a sort of personal and social outlet, we'd vent and then make party plans. Somewhere in between all this I was using other sites like Fictionpress.com which inevitably spread amongst our friends (tofurky) and other reading and writing sites. LiveJournal gave way to Facebook at the beginning of university because, as I remember one of my friends stating "It has pictures." I tried to resist it, but it just became essential, instead of someone asking you for your MSN or phone number they'll ask you for your name. So they can search you on Facebook. Events will be posted on Facebook and people won't even tell you about them to your face because they think you've already seen it on Facebook. I never liked Facebook that much, I see its good sides but we're not very compatible. And now here's Blogger.com, which I have to say I enjoy much more. But, like I said, I'm not 'committing' myself to anything...

I'd like to think my online life is not a very accurate reflection of my real one.