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Saturday, November 29, 2003
I am pig. hear me roar
So I have a messy apartment. I try to keep it reasonable: I do all the dishes every few days, I don't leave food out. But there's always *stuff* everywhere. Like clothes and books and cds and, well, stuff. And it takes forever to clean up, and I don't really care anyway.
But my lifestyle kinda backfired on me tonight. I'd kinda intended to clean up the place a bit, since this is the first weekend when no papers are due in 2 days or less. But I totally slept in and read books instead.
No problem... until I went to the concert tonight. My godmother asks if we're going back to my place for coffee. And I flat out say no. I mean, my apartment in 30 seconds away from the concert hall... it's very hard to give a rational reason, so I don't. I say "it's a mess".
Shit. This is gonna get around the family by the end of the weekend. They're such gossipy types, and they hate that I'm messy. It's a character flaw or something.
Ugh. I feel a little... guilty I guess. Damn. I should go to the DU party: it's too late to head out to NDG for the Y party, and it might be too late for Jen's. But the entropy.. of my apartment... has got a hold on me... I'm gonna snuggle up to a movie and my popcorn-flavored rice cakes, I know it.
But my lifestyle kinda backfired on me tonight. I'd kinda intended to clean up the place a bit, since this is the first weekend when no papers are due in 2 days or less. But I totally slept in and read books instead.
No problem... until I went to the concert tonight. My godmother asks if we're going back to my place for coffee. And I flat out say no. I mean, my apartment in 30 seconds away from the concert hall... it's very hard to give a rational reason, so I don't. I say "it's a mess".
Shit. This is gonna get around the family by the end of the weekend. They're such gossipy types, and they hate that I'm messy. It's a character flaw or something.
Ugh. I feel a little... guilty I guess. Damn. I should go to the DU party: it's too late to head out to NDG for the Y party, and it might be too late for Jen's. But the entropy.. of my apartment... has got a hold on me... I'm gonna snuggle up to a movie and my popcorn-flavored rice cakes, I know it.
# posted by Spot @ 11:45 p.m.
0 comments
oohhh...soberiung up`
Everyonje shouldn nknow me when I'm less than soer. But I'm gonna sleep now, so I guess I should make ths quick.
I gotta A today! Cause of celebration. And going to the symphony tomorrow. Well, today. Tonight.
Partys! Party1 Party! There.
Do es anyone know ther difference between reail author intentions and implied author intenson? Someone should tellm,e I'm writin ng a paper.d
Will proablye regreat theis.
Hapy sbeyond swords. Anm such lush.
I gotta A today! Cause of celebration. And going to the symphony tomorrow. Well, today. Tonight.
Partys! Party1 Party! There.
Do es anyone know ther difference between reail author intentions and implied author intenson? Someone should tellm,e I'm writin ng a paper.d
Will proablye regreat theis.
Hapy sbeyond swords. Anm such lush.
# posted by Spot @ 1:17 a.m.
0 comments
Thursday, November 27, 2003
It's 300 years old...it's still good!
That’s it: pop music is a corporate whore. I’m listening to Justin Timberlake’s new extended McDonald’s ad: a song which expands on the new McDonald’s jingle “I’m loving it”. It’s....terrible.
I’m very disappointed. I’m afraid that my generation’s music is slowly losing its identity as an art form. Which is why I’m starting to identify more and more with the classical period. Beethoven knew how to write a ditty.
Let’s see... what’s new? Well, my social life just exploded. Kaboom! I booked Saturday with my godparents a month ago to see [what else?] Beethoven’s 5th. Da-Da-Da-DUM! Then Graham called to invite me to a YMCA staff party. Then I heard about a surprise party for Jen...
Augh! Well, I really want to go to the symphony, and I really want to see my family. I literally saw them less than I saw Dave more this semester. Oops. As for the Graham/Jen decision...I’m utterly torn. I love the YMCA crowd. Working with them for 315 hours this summer pretty much solidified a friendship, and all friendships must be nurtured. Seeing the Matrix Reloaded together just isn’t enough.
Oh the other hand, Jen is my age, and seems to have a genuine interest in being friends. I mean, she could be using me for my class notes, but probably not. And we all know I could use the kinda friend who comes over between classes: it would prevent me from holing up in my apartment for days at a time, writing papers utterly ignorant of the weather outside.
So I guess I’ll go to the concert at 8, come home at 10:30, go to Jen’s party by 11, come back at 2:30 and sleep all Sunday. Huzzah!
I hate to break it to you boys, but I don’t think I’m gonna make it for your b-day party. I tried my very very best. Congrats on growing older!
I’m very disappointed. I’m afraid that my generation’s music is slowly losing its identity as an art form. Which is why I’m starting to identify more and more with the classical period. Beethoven knew how to write a ditty.
Let’s see... what’s new? Well, my social life just exploded. Kaboom! I booked Saturday with my godparents a month ago to see [what else?] Beethoven’s 5th. Da-Da-Da-DUM! Then Graham called to invite me to a YMCA staff party. Then I heard about a surprise party for Jen...
Augh! Well, I really want to go to the symphony, and I really want to see my family. I literally saw them less than I saw Dave more this semester. Oops. As for the Graham/Jen decision...I’m utterly torn. I love the YMCA crowd. Working with them for 315 hours this summer pretty much solidified a friendship, and all friendships must be nurtured. Seeing the Matrix Reloaded together just isn’t enough.
Oh the other hand, Jen is my age, and seems to have a genuine interest in being friends. I mean, she could be using me for my class notes, but probably not. And we all know I could use the kinda friend who comes over between classes: it would prevent me from holing up in my apartment for days at a time, writing papers utterly ignorant of the weather outside.
So I guess I’ll go to the concert at 8, come home at 10:30, go to Jen’s party by 11, come back at 2:30 and sleep all Sunday. Huzzah!
I hate to break it to you boys, but I don’t think I’m gonna make it for your b-day party. I tried my very very best. Congrats on growing older!
# posted by Spot @ 5:43 p.m.
0 comments
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
YYYEEAHHH!
Yes! Horray! I did it I did it I did. Today I passed in the last three midterm papers. I had to stay up 'till 2 and get up at 7, but I did it: they're in, on time.
Wow. It's a high. Not enough of a high to make up for the excruciating course load, but enough of a high.
After my last class I did everything I've missed: I spent an hour just talking to a friend. I came home and watched the shows I've missed writing papers [CSI and the Daily show] I ate food that took more than 30 seconds to prepare.
Now my body screams for slumber. I have some teacher's college forms to get to a reference...and then Sarah go sleep now.
Wow..there's so much I could do... like buy FFXI and the hardware to support it...but I don't think I'll be doing that. I don't want to get sucked into the final fantasy vortex just yet.
Wow. It's a high. Not enough of a high to make up for the excruciating course load, but enough of a high.
After my last class I did everything I've missed: I spent an hour just talking to a friend. I came home and watched the shows I've missed writing papers [CSI and the Daily show] I ate food that took more than 30 seconds to prepare.
Now my body screams for slumber. I have some teacher's college forms to get to a reference...and then Sarah go sleep now.
Wow..there's so much I could do... like buy FFXI and the hardware to support it...but I don't think I'll be doing that. I don't want to get sucked into the final fantasy vortex just yet.
# posted by Spot @ 7:51 p.m.
0 comments
Sunday, November 23, 2003
I'm a princess!
Have you ever noticed that being a Cape Bretoner is like being royalty? You have to be born into it. If you're lucky enough to be born into it, you enjoy a privileged position for the rest of your life.
Now, I'm a half-and-halfer. But even though I'm not a pureblood I still get to reap some of the benefits of being from the island. Everyone knows where I'm from, and most are slightly jealous. Everywhere else in Canada seems culturally flat in comparison. Cape Breton is geographically small, but its representation in the national consciousness is large. I can't go a month without hearing about a special featuring such-and-such Cape Breton artist. Right now I'm listening to a CBC radio show taped in Mabou. Mabou! Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
I guess if I had to draw an analogy, Cape Breton is to Canada what Seattle is to the US grunge scene: a hugely important contributor to cultural life.
Now, I'm a half-and-halfer. But even though I'm not a pureblood I still get to reap some of the benefits of being from the island. Everyone knows where I'm from, and most are slightly jealous. Everywhere else in Canada seems culturally flat in comparison. Cape Breton is geographically small, but its representation in the national consciousness is large. I can't go a month without hearing about a special featuring such-and-such Cape Breton artist. Right now I'm listening to a CBC radio show taped in Mabou. Mabou! Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
I guess if I had to draw an analogy, Cape Breton is to Canada what Seattle is to the US grunge scene: a hugely important contributor to cultural life.
# posted by Spot @ 2:24 p.m.
0 comments
Saturday, November 22, 2003
Non-money induced bliss
Ali's got me thinking [again]. She's pointed out a valid dichotomy: love or money? I used to go to school because I loved it: now I go for money. Somewhere along the way the joys of all-nighters were lost on me.
Anyway, this got me to thinking: If I had a million dollars, what would I do? Apart from two chicks at the same time, naturally.
Sailing. I love to sail small craft: the kind of boat that can tip over, the kind of boat that needs two people. A laser II is my all-time favorite.
When I go sailing I forget to eat. I don't feel how hard I'm working. I am exhilarated. Then I get home, eat two meals and fall asleep at 9:00.
The other thing is literary interpretation. I like finding new meaning in literary works... or I did. But if school has taught me anything, it's how to suck the fun out of something: make it mandatory.
A couple of psychologists did a study on this and kid's eating habits. They made it so that all the kids could eat was ice cream, and once in a while they could have vegetables. The result: vanilla ice cream became the new broccoli. Vegetables became the new dessert.
I'm pretty sure law will make debating a chore too, but I think I've found a solution: work less, vacation more.
I've never understood why we work five days a week. I've never understood why we put up with two weeks of vacation a year. It's unacceptable! It makes any kind of job drugery.
So I'm going to work less. 3 days a week at one job, 2 days at another. Maybe I'll be an occasional teacher and lawyer. Maybe I'll coach sailing on the side. But if I get sucked into the rat race, slap me good. No amount of money can make up for years of health and youth. I'm gonna take my retirement while I'm young enough to enjoy it. Then I'll take another.
Anyway, this got me to thinking: If I had a million dollars, what would I do? Apart from two chicks at the same time, naturally.
Sailing. I love to sail small craft: the kind of boat that can tip over, the kind of boat that needs two people. A laser II is my all-time favorite.
When I go sailing I forget to eat. I don't feel how hard I'm working. I am exhilarated. Then I get home, eat two meals and fall asleep at 9:00.
The other thing is literary interpretation. I like finding new meaning in literary works... or I did. But if school has taught me anything, it's how to suck the fun out of something: make it mandatory.
A couple of psychologists did a study on this and kid's eating habits. They made it so that all the kids could eat was ice cream, and once in a while they could have vegetables. The result: vanilla ice cream became the new broccoli. Vegetables became the new dessert.
I'm pretty sure law will make debating a chore too, but I think I've found a solution: work less, vacation more.
I've never understood why we work five days a week. I've never understood why we put up with two weeks of vacation a year. It's unacceptable! It makes any kind of job drugery.
So I'm going to work less. 3 days a week at one job, 2 days at another. Maybe I'll be an occasional teacher and lawyer. Maybe I'll coach sailing on the side. But if I get sucked into the rat race, slap me good. No amount of money can make up for years of health and youth. I'm gonna take my retirement while I'm young enough to enjoy it. Then I'll take another.
# posted by Spot @ 11:20 a.m.
0 comments
Friday, November 21, 2003
When to stone your whole family
Props to Eddie for posting a link to the Brick Testament. I'm boning up on my bible studies, and this is so the perfect tool. I'm doing it so I'll have something to say to the religious radicals I argue with about sexuality and right to choose. So far, this one's my favoirite. I pounded the table in laughter.
Who's this Reverend Powell Smith anyway?
Non-sequiter: the word "reverend" is an adjective, not a title. In North America we misuse it all the time: this makes us look like we don't know our grammar. Oh well.
Who's this Reverend Powell Smith anyway?
Non-sequiter: the word "reverend" is an adjective, not a title. In North America we misuse it all the time: this makes us look like we don't know our grammar. Oh well.
# posted by Spot @ 3:13 p.m.
0 comments
Thursday, November 20, 2003
Smile!
Dave, as some of you may know, is a drug addict.
No, I'm not talking about lady liquor. Rather, gentleman Tim's. In the space of a day, Dave typicly consumes two large double-doubles, minimum. When he stays for march break my apartment gets inundates with empty paper cups.
Like all good addicts, Dave encourages my own addiction. Slowly I've grown to appreciate the value of the occasional medium d-d. Consequently, I've come to realize just how much a coffee affects me: it doesn't just make me feel good. Coffee makes me a better person.
Take today for instance. I had Theory of English literature from 11:30 to 1:00. Theory has never been interesting, to be honest. As my flu-ridden professor tried to make "the aesthetic relevance of authorial intentions to interpretation" mildly interesting, my mind wandered to the pub-crawls Dave, Mike, Emilie and I were going to enjoy over the holidays [my decision: if we were all hung over, my parents wouldn't ask us to shovel the driveway].
Anyway, I'm sure Dr. Ponech noticed my wandering mind: I sit in the frontest of front rows. He was probably as discouraged as I was disinterested. So he let us go 10 minutes early or so.
I headed straight to Tim's: I was sleepy and hungry, two states coffee can assuage. As soon as I'd gotten through a third of the cup, the world came alive: suddenly the text-work differentiation seemed relevant, if not interesting. And as I left the student caf, who should I see but my professor. Brimming with caffeine-induced bohnamie, I smiled brightly. Glimpsing my Tim's, he grinned.
I feel instantly better. He's already forgiven my lapse of stoicism in his office [re:the most embarrasing thing ever]. More importantly, we are united in our addiction.
Coffee coffee you're the one
that makes classes so much fun
I went through the next two hours with a 100-watt smile on my face. The funny thing is, people smiled back. I'll bet if I do this more often, a drug-induced popularity will follow. Maybe I should cultivate a heroin addiction: stonger drugs will no doubt mean a happier disposition.
No, I'm not talking about lady liquor. Rather, gentleman Tim's. In the space of a day, Dave typicly consumes two large double-doubles, minimum. When he stays for march break my apartment gets inundates with empty paper cups.
Like all good addicts, Dave encourages my own addiction. Slowly I've grown to appreciate the value of the occasional medium d-d. Consequently, I've come to realize just how much a coffee affects me: it doesn't just make me feel good. Coffee makes me a better person.
Take today for instance. I had Theory of English literature from 11:30 to 1:00. Theory has never been interesting, to be honest. As my flu-ridden professor tried to make "the aesthetic relevance of authorial intentions to interpretation" mildly interesting, my mind wandered to the pub-crawls Dave, Mike, Emilie and I were going to enjoy over the holidays [my decision: if we were all hung over, my parents wouldn't ask us to shovel the driveway].
Anyway, I'm sure Dr. Ponech noticed my wandering mind: I sit in the frontest of front rows. He was probably as discouraged as I was disinterested. So he let us go 10 minutes early or so.
I headed straight to Tim's: I was sleepy and hungry, two states coffee can assuage. As soon as I'd gotten through a third of the cup, the world came alive: suddenly the text-work differentiation seemed relevant, if not interesting. And as I left the student caf, who should I see but my professor. Brimming with caffeine-induced bohnamie, I smiled brightly. Glimpsing my Tim's, he grinned.
I feel instantly better. He's already forgiven my lapse of stoicism in his office [re:the most embarrasing thing ever]. More importantly, we are united in our addiction.
Coffee coffee you're the one
that makes classes so much fun
I went through the next two hours with a 100-watt smile on my face. The funny thing is, people smiled back. I'll bet if I do this more often, a drug-induced popularity will follow. Maybe I should cultivate a heroin addiction: stonger drugs will no doubt mean a happier disposition.
# posted by Spot @ 4:16 p.m.
0 comments
Counterfit Happiness
I got a letter from the University of Ottawa yesterday. Now, I knew I'd only just applied, so the chances were extremely slim that they had decided whether to admit me or not. I was nervous anyway.
The envelope was thin, which is a very bad sign. So instead of reading the whole thing, I just flipped to the second page:
"to acess your e-mail account..." E-mail account? They gave me an e-mail account! My rushing elation was soon quashed: apparently everyone who applies gets an e-mail account. Who has that kind of server space, anyway?
Well, I might not have gotten in...but I wasn't out either. And that kinda got me feeling pretty good: maybe I'm gonna get in after all. I hate thinking about the future. I hate the uncertainty.
I know this is probably pretty offensive, but I'll let you in on why I'm stressed. In my family education = money. Money = happiness. Normally I'd reject this kind of logic outright, because it's so...undemocratic. The problem is, there's evidence to back it up. The couple who got married out of their BAs or BScs live in a smaller house. They lost their jobs. Their marriage was under a lot of stress because of all this lack of money.
The couple with a Nursing and Engineering degree live in a bigger house. They have more work than they need. They have more money than they need. They're happier [but their kids are more spoiled].
I believed for a split second that I was in law school...and my relief was beyond all measure. This is ridiculous: lots of people are perfectly happy without law degrees...why should I think one is necessary for my happiness?
The oddest thing is I don't apply this reasoning to anyone else. I have a couple of friends scattered around the country who have dropped out of school, or just didn't go back after the bachelors...and they seem perfectly happy.
Go figure. I wonder if I'm the only one who sees this connection: is it part of North American culture? Or is this a uniquely spottle phenomenon?
The envelope was thin, which is a very bad sign. So instead of reading the whole thing, I just flipped to the second page:
"to acess your e-mail account..." E-mail account? They gave me an e-mail account! My rushing elation was soon quashed: apparently everyone who applies gets an e-mail account. Who has that kind of server space, anyway?
Well, I might not have gotten in...but I wasn't out either. And that kinda got me feeling pretty good: maybe I'm gonna get in after all. I hate thinking about the future. I hate the uncertainty.
I know this is probably pretty offensive, but I'll let you in on why I'm stressed. In my family education = money. Money = happiness. Normally I'd reject this kind of logic outright, because it's so...undemocratic. The problem is, there's evidence to back it up. The couple who got married out of their BAs or BScs live in a smaller house. They lost their jobs. Their marriage was under a lot of stress because of all this lack of money.
The couple with a Nursing and Engineering degree live in a bigger house. They have more work than they need. They have more money than they need. They're happier [but their kids are more spoiled].
I believed for a split second that I was in law school...and my relief was beyond all measure. This is ridiculous: lots of people are perfectly happy without law degrees...why should I think one is necessary for my happiness?
The oddest thing is I don't apply this reasoning to anyone else. I have a couple of friends scattered around the country who have dropped out of school, or just didn't go back after the bachelors...and they seem perfectly happy.
Go figure. I wonder if I'm the only one who sees this connection: is it part of North American culture? Or is this a uniquely spottle phenomenon?
# posted by Spot @ 3:59 p.m.
0 comments
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Guess who's coming to dinner? Christmas dinner that is...
Oh wow. Michael will be spending Christmas with us.
For those of you who didn't live in my apartment this summer, Michael is Emilie's boyfriend of 3 years. He and Emilie stayed in my 3.5 for a few weeks: it felt small. Mom's been dying to meet him, and he's coming to stay for the holidays.
Words fail me. Partly because I'm not quite sure how this will pan out. I think Mike is pretty cool: he cooked an awesome meal when he stayed with us. He was a very decent houseguest, and seems to be a pretty cool person.
That being said, I can tell he hasn't meet my folks yet: if he did, he wouldn't be volunteering to stay with us for 2 weeks and change.
Well, maybe that's not entirely fair. My folks were at their most neurotic when we were in high school. They've mellowed out a bit by now. And mom has this way of totally winning over strangers. Granted, she hasn't won Dave over, but that's because he was a ba-a-a-d influence on me in high school: he brought the existance of a social life to my attention. I think she's cool with it now, but I don't blame Dave for avoiding her like the man-eating tiger she appeared to be when they first met.
Hopefully this will present an opportunity to create a big happy family. Emillie, Dave and I can keep Mike from finding out Sydney is a very boring town. Dave will have someone to talk to when my parents have nothing to say...good news all around.
This guy must really like Em. That's all I have to say about that. Crazy mo-fo.
For those of you who didn't live in my apartment this summer, Michael is Emilie's boyfriend of 3 years. He and Emilie stayed in my 3.5 for a few weeks: it felt small. Mom's been dying to meet him, and he's coming to stay for the holidays.
Words fail me. Partly because I'm not quite sure how this will pan out. I think Mike is pretty cool: he cooked an awesome meal when he stayed with us. He was a very decent houseguest, and seems to be a pretty cool person.
That being said, I can tell he hasn't meet my folks yet: if he did, he wouldn't be volunteering to stay with us for 2 weeks and change.
Well, maybe that's not entirely fair. My folks were at their most neurotic when we were in high school. They've mellowed out a bit by now. And mom has this way of totally winning over strangers. Granted, she hasn't won Dave over, but that's because he was a ba-a-a-d influence on me in high school: he brought the existance of a social life to my attention. I think she's cool with it now, but I don't blame Dave for avoiding her like the man-eating tiger she appeared to be when they first met.
Hopefully this will present an opportunity to create a big happy family. Emillie, Dave and I can keep Mike from finding out Sydney is a very boring town. Dave will have someone to talk to when my parents have nothing to say...good news all around.
This guy must really like Em. That's all I have to say about that. Crazy mo-fo.
# posted by Spot @ 7:36 p.m.
0 comments
Monday, November 17, 2003
last-ditch effort
Ohmygoodnessmyprinterisabitch.
Those of you who checked in between about 1:30 and 3:30 were granted a rare treat: Sarah's paper in the raw.
I'm not sure my papers have improved much over the past four years, so I'm going to replace the 10-page monstrosity with a proper post.
To explain, I posted my essay to my blog out of desperation. Naturally, if I finished my paper at 12:45, my printer runs out of ink at 1:07. I e-mailed my paper to myself and headed off to the computer lab: there's a 15-minute line-up. Once on-line...my paper hasn't gone through McGill's servers yet.
I almost cried. This paper was due in the class starting at 1:30. I went home, e-mailed it to my hotmail account, posted it to my blog: I would've tatooed to to my leg if it would've helped.
This just isn't the kind of story you can tell a prof in good faith. Who hasn't heard the my-printer-was-broken story? Still...I think that experience was worse than death. I now have nothing to fear.
I've had 11 hours of sleep in the last 48 hours. I thought this paper was due Wenesday until 2am this morning. I haven't eaten in almost 24 hours. I think I'm halucinating. Fun stuff.
Those of you who checked in between about 1:30 and 3:30 were granted a rare treat: Sarah's paper in the raw.
I'm not sure my papers have improved much over the past four years, so I'm going to replace the 10-page monstrosity with a proper post.
To explain, I posted my essay to my blog out of desperation. Naturally, if I finished my paper at 12:45, my printer runs out of ink at 1:07. I e-mailed my paper to myself and headed off to the computer lab: there's a 15-minute line-up. Once on-line...my paper hasn't gone through McGill's servers yet.
I almost cried. This paper was due in the class starting at 1:30. I went home, e-mailed it to my hotmail account, posted it to my blog: I would've tatooed to to my leg if it would've helped.
This just isn't the kind of story you can tell a prof in good faith. Who hasn't heard the my-printer-was-broken story? Still...I think that experience was worse than death. I now have nothing to fear.
I've had 11 hours of sleep in the last 48 hours. I thought this paper was due Wenesday until 2am this morning. I haven't eaten in almost 24 hours. I think I'm halucinating. Fun stuff.
# posted by Spot @ 2:43 p.m.
0 comments
Saturday, November 15, 2003
And the winner is..
Everyone! Well, I like to hope so anyway.
It turns out that dry sex is very popular in Africa. Weird, no? This means that condom use is actually counter-productive for the women in question. Latex is an irritant, especially when not lubricated. Plus condoms are more likely to break with such a lot of friction. So latex irritates tissue, making it easier for the virus to get in the bloodstream, and the condoms sometimes break, allowing the virus to escape.
The theory is that these women have anti-HIV factors lining their girly-areas which get rubbed away by latex.
Still, they must've been pissed at all those health workers who got them to use condoms in the first place.
It turns out that dry sex is very popular in Africa. Weird, no? This means that condom use is actually counter-productive for the women in question. Latex is an irritant, especially when not lubricated. Plus condoms are more likely to break with such a lot of friction. So latex irritates tissue, making it easier for the virus to get in the bloodstream, and the condoms sometimes break, allowing the virus to escape.
The theory is that these women have anti-HIV factors lining their girly-areas which get rubbed away by latex.
Still, they must've been pissed at all those health workers who got them to use condoms in the first place.
# posted by Spot @ 12:20 p.m.
0 comments
Thursday, November 13, 2003
It's a mystery!
Ok everybody, today's riddle is:
Why are there communities of prostitutes in Africa who appear to have developed a resistance to HIV? More interestingly, why is it that when these sex workers begin to use condoms they contract the virus?
On of these questions is answerable, and one isn't. Both are important though.
Ah McGill, what won't you teach next?
Why are there communities of prostitutes in Africa who appear to have developed a resistance to HIV? More interestingly, why is it that when these sex workers begin to use condoms they contract the virus?
On of these questions is answerable, and one isn't. Both are important though.
Ah McGill, what won't you teach next?
# posted by Spot @ 11:21 a.m.
0 comments
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
No one escapes from life alive
It's times like these, times when I am doomed to fail my courses, times when I have five essays and one midterm in the next three weeks, this kind of time when I think about what my aunt Elizabeth told me back in grade 4.
I was going to a very stressful school in Ottawa. Looking back, the pressure they put on us was nothing short of ridiculous. Memorizing 5-stanza poems and reciting them to the class at the age of 10? Craziness.
Anyway, I'd gotten back a 90 or something, and I was freaking out. And she said: "Think of it this way. The worst that could happen is that you die".
You might think she was joking, but she wasn't, which I appreciated. Adults too often make light of a child's crises. In this case, she was deadpan serious..and her advice helped.
Think about it: is dying really that bad? Absolutely not. Even if you're an atheist, death can be preferable to life: eternal nothingness. No responsibilities, no worries, void. And if you happen to buy into Catholicism, which I do to a very limited extent, death is a bonanza of wonderfulness. I think the way the Church is leaning now, it's all but impossible to end up in Hell. Here are a few gems I learned while getting confirmed:
Mortal sins land you in the pit. A mortal sin is something that contravenes the 10 commandments: a biggie. Anything else is a venial sin, and you can buy your way out of those in purgatory.
But wait...even mortal sins can be excused. If you have even a split second before death to recant your sins [ie say to God: "I am soooooo sorry, I never should've done that, please please please forgive me], if you do this sincere act of contrition... you're forgiven! Up you go!
And even if I was wrong about this theory of contrition, the fact that I don't know better would excuse my sins anyway. So many loopholes.
Point being, it's times like these that I like to consider what's the worst that could happen and find some measure of peace. As long as death is the end result I've got nothing to worry about. I'm either going to blissful nullity or heaven. I'm pretty sure papers won't follow me to either.
I was going to a very stressful school in Ottawa. Looking back, the pressure they put on us was nothing short of ridiculous. Memorizing 5-stanza poems and reciting them to the class at the age of 10? Craziness.
Anyway, I'd gotten back a 90 or something, and I was freaking out. And she said: "Think of it this way. The worst that could happen is that you die".
You might think she was joking, but she wasn't, which I appreciated. Adults too often make light of a child's crises. In this case, she was deadpan serious..and her advice helped.
Think about it: is dying really that bad? Absolutely not. Even if you're an atheist, death can be preferable to life: eternal nothingness. No responsibilities, no worries, void. And if you happen to buy into Catholicism, which I do to a very limited extent, death is a bonanza of wonderfulness. I think the way the Church is leaning now, it's all but impossible to end up in Hell. Here are a few gems I learned while getting confirmed:
Mortal sins land you in the pit. A mortal sin is something that contravenes the 10 commandments: a biggie. Anything else is a venial sin, and you can buy your way out of those in purgatory.
But wait...even mortal sins can be excused. If you have even a split second before death to recant your sins [ie say to God: "I am soooooo sorry, I never should've done that, please please please forgive me], if you do this sincere act of contrition... you're forgiven! Up you go!
And even if I was wrong about this theory of contrition, the fact that I don't know better would excuse my sins anyway. So many loopholes.
Point being, it's times like these that I like to consider what's the worst that could happen and find some measure of peace. As long as death is the end result I've got nothing to worry about. I'm either going to blissful nullity or heaven. I'm pretty sure papers won't follow me to either.
# posted by Spot @ 4:29 p.m.
0 comments
Tuesday, November 11, 2003
Good Point!
I just read Ali's post for today, and I think she has a good point. Not just about Rememberance Day [I always misspell that], but about Blogging in general.
My miniscule experience in the world of web-publishing has taught me something about myself. First of all, I'm a stereotypical artist: I need to suffer to produce something meaningful. Tangential to this, if I'm not suffering I produce crap.
This is a bit of a catch-22. This implies that anything you read of value of mine will be anger/sadness motivated. I will be pretty fucking depressing.
But the truth is, depression sells. It's what news is all about: depressing things happening to other people.
Besides, angry is who I am. Depressed is, to a certain extent, who I am. I'd like to be happy all the time, but that's really not who I am. I don't think it's ever been who I am.
Even when the most wonderful thing in the world was happening to me, I was conflicted. My English professor was talking about this the other day: classic romantic literature is all about unattainable love. The most wonderful love story in the world is about unfulfilled love. At the time, Dave was pretty unattainable. But being practicly grounded 24/7 didn't stop me, and it might have encouraged me.
What's my point? I think I might be a cactus. I think I might bloom in adversity. I think I'm happy in a thundershower. I think I'm a fighter.
Whatever you want to call it, my blog is gonna reflect it. Maybe I'll try to write more when I'm happy, but it might just turn into a laundry list of fun activities. The good stuff [the great post] is how I feel, and I don't think I have words for describing how I feel when life it good. 'nuf said.
My miniscule experience in the world of web-publishing has taught me something about myself. First of all, I'm a stereotypical artist: I need to suffer to produce something meaningful. Tangential to this, if I'm not suffering I produce crap.
This is a bit of a catch-22. This implies that anything you read of value of mine will be anger/sadness motivated. I will be pretty fucking depressing.
But the truth is, depression sells. It's what news is all about: depressing things happening to other people.
Besides, angry is who I am. Depressed is, to a certain extent, who I am. I'd like to be happy all the time, but that's really not who I am. I don't think it's ever been who I am.
Even when the most wonderful thing in the world was happening to me, I was conflicted. My English professor was talking about this the other day: classic romantic literature is all about unattainable love. The most wonderful love story in the world is about unfulfilled love. At the time, Dave was pretty unattainable. But being practicly grounded 24/7 didn't stop me, and it might have encouraged me.
What's my point? I think I might be a cactus. I think I might bloom in adversity. I think I'm happy in a thundershower. I think I'm a fighter.
Whatever you want to call it, my blog is gonna reflect it. Maybe I'll try to write more when I'm happy, but it might just turn into a laundry list of fun activities. The good stuff [the great post] is how I feel, and I don't think I have words for describing how I feel when life it good. 'nuf said.
# posted by Spot @ 10:19 p.m.
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Celebrate!
I know this is gonna sound weird, but my British Literature paper sounds better when Abbey Road is playing in the background. Paul McCartney: sooo dreamy. He's always been my favorite Beatle. He had such a normal childhood and such a normal marriage: he's just a good person.
Oh, and remember the Beatles went to India: it was one of the best things they ever did. Maybe everyone should take a trip to some exotic culture [hint hint Mr. I never update my Blog].
Someone fell asleep in one of my classes today. I know her, kind of: she's been in 3 of my classes. She scares me, actually. She's one of two people who regularly sit near me who I think are borderline psychotic. There's just something about these two. They're quick to take offence, they do strange things in class [the girl slaps at imaginary flies, the boy checks his junkmail intently] and I can envision them flipping out. Creepy.
Oh, and remember the Beatles went to India: it was one of the best things they ever did. Maybe everyone should take a trip to some exotic culture [hint hint Mr. I never update my Blog].
Someone fell asleep in one of my classes today. I know her, kind of: she's been in 3 of my classes. She scares me, actually. She's one of two people who regularly sit near me who I think are borderline psychotic. There's just something about these two. They're quick to take offence, they do strange things in class [the girl slaps at imaginary flies, the boy checks his junkmail intently] and I can envision them flipping out. Creepy.
# posted by Spot @ 10:02 p.m.
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Monday, November 10, 2003
Craziness
I can't believe Eddie won't be in Sydney :( What's up with that?
On the other hand, this whole Halifax idea for New Year's sounds kinda cool too. The weird thing is, I'm leaving for Montreal Jan 2. So I'd, like, go to Halifax for the 31st of Dec, party 'till the 1st, come home on the 2nd and leave that night.
Or not. I have to see if I can re-direct the ticket or something.
Whatever. I'm sure whoever's there will have a smashing time. Maybe we should drive up the the 'fax and kidnap Eddie for Christmas. Who's with me?
In other news there is no news. I think I'm going to lose my mind with paper craziness. I hate school. But I love my walking Eyore. Dave bought it for me: you wind it up and it actually walks! I spent more time watching him then typing my paper last night.
Finally, I have an art of listening midterm on Thursday. My homework is to listen to the greatest works in musical history until I can remember which is which. I have to do this for marks. Al last, a break.
On the other hand, this whole Halifax idea for New Year's sounds kinda cool too. The weird thing is, I'm leaving for Montreal Jan 2. So I'd, like, go to Halifax for the 31st of Dec, party 'till the 1st, come home on the 2nd and leave that night.
Or not. I have to see if I can re-direct the ticket or something.
Whatever. I'm sure whoever's there will have a smashing time. Maybe we should drive up the the 'fax and kidnap Eddie for Christmas. Who's with me?
In other news there is no news. I think I'm going to lose my mind with paper craziness. I hate school. But I love my walking Eyore. Dave bought it for me: you wind it up and it actually walks! I spent more time watching him then typing my paper last night.
Finally, I have an art of listening midterm on Thursday. My homework is to listen to the greatest works in musical history until I can remember which is which. I have to do this for marks. Al last, a break.
# posted by Spot @ 11:02 a.m.
0 comments
Sunday, November 09, 2003
Part-A?
I can't put off doing my paper for much longer, but I will ask one more question: who's up for some Christmas partying?
I mean, we're all of age now, we should get nicely toasted over the holidays at my house. How about an intimate evening featuring Johnny LaRue on guitar and the rest of us as drunken carolers. I'm coming home December 17th: we could either have a party pre-Christmas or post. Up to you guys: let me know.
Nothing big, just good times.
I mean, we're all of age now, we should get nicely toasted over the holidays at my house. How about an intimate evening featuring Johnny LaRue on guitar and the rest of us as drunken carolers. I'm coming home December 17th: we could either have a party pre-Christmas or post. Up to you guys: let me know.
Nothing big, just good times.
# posted by Spot @ 3:09 p.m.
0 comments
Your...parent
Today's cause/debate/rant is about mom jokes: I was always one to enjoy these, but I've made a radical stand vis a vis the McGill DU. These folks are great for entertainment value: always willing to argue about something.
Anyway, I appreciate mom jokes when you know they're done in a friendly way. You know, no malice. But lately there have been some objections: some guys in particular are invoking "your mom!" because they know it bugs some people.
It started with our resident east Indian, Gaurav. Apparently, mom jokes bug him because in his culture parents are much revered. Thus the debate got off the ground.
Then I started reading some of these, and I could see how they might bug someone. I mean, these jokes aren't aimed at the guy in question. They're more like stereotypical accusations against women. So I played the gender card.
I can see how these cards can bug people. Mom jokes probably aren't about gender, just like OJ's case wasn't about race. But as soon as you bring it up, it puts everything in a new light. After all, I don't hear many dad jokes.
The clincher for me is who's arguing for Mom jokes: Alex Campbell. A fun guy, likes to party and watch baseball, but with unfortunate tendencies to misogyny. This guy never misses a chance to say "you did well, for a girl" or some such thing.
He's pissed at me. I just love to twist this guy's tail. Fun times.
Anyway, I appreciate mom jokes when you know they're done in a friendly way. You know, no malice. But lately there have been some objections: some guys in particular are invoking "your mom!" because they know it bugs some people.
It started with our resident east Indian, Gaurav. Apparently, mom jokes bug him because in his culture parents are much revered. Thus the debate got off the ground.
Then I started reading some of these, and I could see how they might bug someone. I mean, these jokes aren't aimed at the guy in question. They're more like stereotypical accusations against women. So I played the gender card.
I can see how these cards can bug people. Mom jokes probably aren't about gender, just like OJ's case wasn't about race. But as soon as you bring it up, it puts everything in a new light. After all, I don't hear many dad jokes.
The clincher for me is who's arguing for Mom jokes: Alex Campbell. A fun guy, likes to party and watch baseball, but with unfortunate tendencies to misogyny. This guy never misses a chance to say "you did well, for a girl" or some such thing.
He's pissed at me. I just love to twist this guy's tail. Fun times.
# posted by Spot @ 3:07 p.m.
0 comments
The dark side of the room
Psychedelic 70's. I wish I could experience it. In a way, I am: a friend from work replaced his scratched CDs, and I get The Wall, Dark Side of the Moon and Abbey Road for free! Slightly scratched, still serviceable.
Ever notice how Pink Floyd's albums always start with a moment of silence? It lends itself to a very relaxed approach to listening: you can't rush these things.
Speaking of dark moons, the earth's rotational axis sucks. The sun now sets at, like, 3:30. Ugh. I'm just waking up around then. I'm starting to feel like a nightcrawler.
Ever notice how Pink Floyd's albums always start with a moment of silence? It lends itself to a very relaxed approach to listening: you can't rush these things.
Speaking of dark moons, the earth's rotational axis sucks. The sun now sets at, like, 3:30. Ugh. I'm just waking up around then. I'm starting to feel like a nightcrawler.
# posted by Spot @ 2:44 p.m.
0 comments
Friday, November 07, 2003
Asia sounds good
Oooh..there's something about sleeping in that gives me a headache. I guess I'm getting to old to do it :(
Anyway, I'm giving serious consideration to a crazy plan. I'm graduating this year, and that's great. I love school, but I think I could use a bit of a break.
All this to say: I'd like to move to Hong Kong for a year. And make some money. I want to teach English in Asia.
I've been to Hong Kong: it's like Toronto with better weather. Very western, very safe, Hawaii climate. The more I think about it, the more I want to do it. So I stand back and await your arguments against my crazy plan.
Anyway, I'm giving serious consideration to a crazy plan. I'm graduating this year, and that's great. I love school, but I think I could use a bit of a break.
All this to say: I'd like to move to Hong Kong for a year. And make some money. I want to teach English in Asia.
I've been to Hong Kong: it's like Toronto with better weather. Very western, very safe, Hawaii climate. The more I think about it, the more I want to do it. So I stand back and await your arguments against my crazy plan.
# posted by Spot @ 3:36 p.m.
0 comments
Thursday, November 06, 2003
Soooo Good!
Aw yeah! I saw the Matrix Revolutions. Awwwwww yeeeeaaahhh! It was very satisfying. Though I suspect that, much like the holy trinity of Sci Fi [aka Star Wars], the Matrix may suffer from an internal weakness in it's final chapter. I mean, what happens next? Do they un-scorch the sky? Does the story repeat itself? Is this the first time this happened? Do humans move to the surface? And what's with that long mushy love/death scene? Girly girls don't go to these movies, so why play to them.
Oh, and one last thing. In the first movie, there was the kung-fu and lobby scene. In the sequel, the french mansion and highway scene. I am unfulfilled in the third chapter. Battling machines just isn't as exciting as kicking ass man to man.
Oh well. It was definitely a very good buy. Better than "The Medallion" at any rate.
One last question: did anyone else notice the following themes: Christ imagery, Dune allusions? Just wondering.
Kick ass. Oh, and the pre-movie supper at my place was good times too.
Oh, and one last thing. In the first movie, there was the kung-fu and lobby scene. In the sequel, the french mansion and highway scene. I am unfulfilled in the third chapter. Battling machines just isn't as exciting as kicking ass man to man.
Oh well. It was definitely a very good buy. Better than "The Medallion" at any rate.
One last question: did anyone else notice the following themes: Christ imagery, Dune allusions? Just wondering.
Kick ass. Oh, and the pre-movie supper at my place was good times too.
# posted by Spot @ 12:12 a.m.
0 comments
Monday, November 03, 2003
For every action...
...there is an equal and opposite reaction. Everything has become physics, even my snuffly nose.
That's right: staying up all night and all day for the weekend = sickness. Not serious tho. Nothing like Eddie, for example. And it was so worth it.
Such good times! My normal life pales in comparison. But there are compensations, like a blog for example. And getting my Ontario law school apps in on time: T-5 hours.
ooh! Awesome song on the radio: get up get up put the body in motion! Speaking of which, I rocked out Thursday night. Y'all shoulda seen us: non-stop body in motion for, like, 7 hours. And I won a french-kissing contest...though in my heart of hearts I think the lesbians deserved an honorable mention at least.
I leave you with that mental image. mmmm: lesbians.
That's right: staying up all night and all day for the weekend = sickness. Not serious tho. Nothing like Eddie, for example. And it was so worth it.
Such good times! My normal life pales in comparison. But there are compensations, like a blog for example. And getting my Ontario law school apps in on time: T-5 hours.
ooh! Awesome song on the radio: get up get up put the body in motion! Speaking of which, I rocked out Thursday night. Y'all shoulda seen us: non-stop body in motion for, like, 7 hours. And I won a french-kissing contest...though in my heart of hearts I think the lesbians deserved an honorable mention at least.
I leave you with that mental image. mmmm: lesbians.
# posted by Spot @ 8:08 p.m.
0 comments
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