~Colleen's Musings~

Coronacles Day 9 - Upsides to Self-Isolation

2020-03-27T04:12:00.000-07:00

I am slightly worried what it says about me that I am thriving in self-isolation. Sure, my face has more spots than clear skin right now, I've ground my teeth into lockjaw, and I can tell my days of the week by the pour of my wine glass, but underlying anxiety aside I am secretly enjoying the break.

I understand why everyone is feeling scared, sad, and worried for their mental health. All valid, all acceptable, all worthy of recognition, empathy, and support. However in light of all the bad news and the fear arising from the unknown I thought I would share a few of the spaces where I have found some relief in the midst of chaos.* (privilege disclaimer at the bottom)

1. I don't feel bad about watching hours of Netflix.
I am lucky to live in London and it is pretty damn cool here. So cool, in fact, that I often feel a sense of guilt if I'm not "making the most of it." I could go to a museum instead of staying in. I should take advantage of the sun while it's here. There are so many burroughs I have never explored. I have run myself down too many times to count since moving here simply because I never wanted to slow down. Now all of a sudden I have to stay inside and take a bit of a break.

2. I am learning new skills.
I finally have the motivation to learn how to cross-stitch, which I have said I want to learn for years but never started. I have the time (and necessity) to learn how to hem my own trousers now and finally learn how the sewing machine I bought a year ago at a car boot sale works. I finally baked brownies with all the ingredients I bought when we moved because I thought I was the kind of person who might bake on weekends.

3. I am more connected to my friends abroad.
I think I am more connected to my friends and family now than I usually otherwise would be. Many of those closest to me live far away and so time zones mean that we are never free at the same times. Now we are all home and I can squeeze in a video call on my lunch break because they won't be driving to work, or a call later at night because I don't have to be up as early for work. People are on Skype more, Facetime more, using WhatsApp Video, and I find that I talk to some of my friends more now than I did before we were isolating.

4. I am starting to form some healthy at-home habits, and realise which healthy habits I thought I hated but actually miss.
For the first time in my life I was becoming a regular gym goer before this all kicked off. And I was terrible at it. I was more like an equipment inspector than an athlete. But I did it every day that I went into the office at least long enough to raise my heart rate. Since being home I have realised how much I was enjoying it and know that, for the first time, I have actually made exercise a regular part of my life.
I have also learned how to do Yoga and Pilates at home to compensate for the classes I miss, and I am actually keeping up with a lot of the positive mental health practices like meditiation that I know I should usually do but often feel too tired to do after my commute to and from work most days.

5. I am actually making food.
Kate and I weren't hoarders by any means, but we did buy more food than usual last week when we realised we would both be working from home every day. The stores were wiped of most long-lasting foods so I bought more meat, eggs, and vegetables than I otherwise would. As a result, I have actually had to cook all that and have dinner every night which I have not done in months.
Another positive is that I don't have a scale at home. While the gym was a positive addition in my life, it became a daily tendency to weigh myself and then think about why I had gained or lost a pound. I have no idea how much I weigh right now, and the sweatpants I wear every day don't care.

6. The air quality is way better on my one walk per day.
Less commuting time on tubes and trains means I'm inhaling fewer fumes, and reduced cars on the roads means that when I go on my walks the air feels cleaner.

7. Alcohol is cheaper.
Turns out drinking £3 wine on our couch is way more afforable than going out for cocktails in London. Who knew? And now it's socially acceptable to drink £3 wine on my couch over Skype rather than feeling like I have to go into the city to meet people.

8. I have way more extra time.
Everything in London takes an hour to get to. That means that I spend at least 2 hours each day just commuting, 3 if I meet up with someone after work. In the time I used to spend getting to work I now have time to go on a big walk then have a nice sit-down breakfast and a cup of coffee in the morning.

9. No more FOMO.
I am as guilty as anyone of getting Instagram FOMO. Everyone's social media is carefully cultivated to show the best moments of their experiences and so, if you spend too much time on there (and I do on my long commutes) it's easy to feel like I'm not socialising enough, traveling enough, seeing family enough, escaping enough. Right now my whole social media is just a giant support system of people reassuring each other that we will all get through this together.

10. I am not exhausted.
I have a tendancy to overcommit to things. At the end of 2019, start of 2020 I would estimate that I was going to events or meeting people 4-5 nights a week. I was going to bed late and getting up at 5:45 every morning to go to the gym. And while it was fun, it was exhausting. Truth be told, if social distancing hadn't kicked in when it did I think I would have reached my breaking point very soon. While I have a lot of underlying corona-stress, I am no longer rushing to things, stressing over tube delays, and counting down the days until I will be home long enough to do a load of laundry.

There you have it. The top 10 positives that I am focussing on during self-isolation. There are certainly things that are making me stressed, overwhelmed, sad, and anxious, but in the face of all that, these are the little bits of relief I am enjoying until life returns to normal.

Clapham Common empty on my morning walk

* I am very fortunate that my family is all healthy and safe right now. I don't have kids disrupting my day. I can work from home and so don't have the fear of a loss of income, and am able-bodied so I can get myself supplies as needed. I am very priviledged in this moment and this post is in no way intended to make light of the very serious struggles many are facing. I just hope that at least one thing on this list can resonate.

Coronacles - Day 1

2020-03-18T09:20:00.002-07:00

A ton has happened since the last time I posted an update, not the least is that I have moved to the UK. I moved to Bath in September of 2018 to start a Masters of Management. I love having a break from city living and the stress of my job so as I wrapped up my year I made myself a project: No moving to London, and no jobs in the Big 4.

So naturally, I now live in London, work at a Big 4, and love every minute of it.

I could spend a whole post just on all the things I love about London but at the moment, it would be pointless because I, just like everyone everywhere, just entered self-isolation for the forseeable future. While the UK seems to be doing almost nothing about Coronavirus, both my flatmate and I have been told to work from home for the forseeable future. And so the madness begins.

I am not planning on updating this every day. If I did I might actually lose it. On the plus side, I am glad to see that the threat of isolation is making companies talk more seriously about employees' mental health and well-being. On the down side, I predict 3 more days before Kate and I start re-enacting Lord of the Flies in our apartment. As is stands, I can't get Wifi in my room so we are forced to take all of our calls a few feet away fromm each other. It also means neither one of us can really relax and take a lunch break because our living room/dining room is also our office.

But life moves on. I am lucky to work on a team that has had partial remote working since I started and so, while it's strange having someone else at home, working at the dining room table is not a new experience. What WAS a new experience today was my boss requesting we all turn on our video during our Skype meeting, so at least my whole team knows what my PJs look like. Both comforting and concerning was my manager's note after the call, as she was worried about how pale I look. A fun reminder that, until today, my coworkers had never seen me without makeup.

All in all things here are fine. People are still wandering about in the streets because apparently, unless explicitly banned from it you can't keep a Brit away from a pub. The grocery stores are still busy, even though there is no food, and schools are still open. While I assume shut downs will start quickly for now, everything is as it was, just with a heavily increased sense of paranoia.

I will keep updating this as things begin to get more serious. Canada has shut its borders, as has half of the UK, so I am sure a full lockdown is coming any day now. Until then I will enjoy walks to the park (at least a metre away from everybody else) and the fun that comes from the first few days of working at home, before the instant noodles run out.

A Christmas Reflection

2018-01-02T14:39:00.000-08:00

I don't really believe in making New Years resolutions, however the most horrifying thing happened this week. I fell for the most transparent marketing scheme. Specifically, over the holidays Netflix released the aggressively mediocre film A Christmas Prince. Apparently not enough people decided to watch their Hallmark-channel quality Princess Diaries knockoff and Netflix decided to shame its few, unjustifiably dedicated fans with the following tweet:

Well, evidently it worked because on December 30th, after bidding my parents goodbye and struggling to drag my (suddenly very fat) cat and his litter home in sub-zero weather, I went home to take a bath and nap in the few hours that I would have my apartment to myself. Let me just tell you, A Christmas Prince is an excellent drinking wine and half-watching TV in the bath movie.

The fact that I decided to spend my few precious hours of having the apartment to myself watching A Christmas Prince is not the embarrassing part. The fact that I accidentally started watching it on Mark's Netflix so that now it impacts his movie suggestions isn't even the embarrassing part. The embarrassing part is that, partway through, the father character (too) passionately tells his daughter that she's never going be a reporter like she's always wanted unless she fully commits to taking every opportunity and for whatever reason, it really resonated with me.

Never mind that my parents, friends, and colleagues have been telling me the same thing for three years now. A Christmas Prince was the motivation I needed to finally sit down and write.

I've been told that the first thing I have to do is get my blog(s) back in order so that's my goal for this week. Last night I posted to my writing blog for the first time in years and at some point in the near future I'm going to wrap up my Happy Year Mission blog. I'm going to try and spruce things up a bit so that my mundane life looks a little more exciting online, even if it just means uploading more pictures (thanks to Google Photo that is way easier than it was 2+ years ago, the last time I was actively blogging). I am not making any resolutions but I will at least make an effort to write a little more (at least for the next month before I have to find a new cheesy Netflix show to motivate me).

I suppose the proper way to do a New Years blog post is to include a reflection. While 2017 was pretty awful for the world as a whole, I think I've had an above average year. While I'm not where I'd like to be location or career-wise, I am at least very happy, which is worth more than anything else. One year ago today I was living in a dark basement apartment with a woman of whom I was afraid, dating a boy who had been forced to go back to Ireland and we didn't know when (or even if) he would be back. My parents had just left so I had the post-Christmas blues and while I should have been excited for an upcoming trip to meet Mark's family I was more concerned that something would have changed or I would make a fool of myself in front of the people he cares about. It did not help that I had happily accepted an invitation from them to join them on family vacation in Tenerife as I (terrible with geography) assumed that Tenerife was some beach within driving distance of their home in Ireland. I think my boss only gave me the extra week off work because he was laughing too much. I would be at the airport in line for the flight before I fully realized how far away Tenerife actually was.

However, as I checked my Instagram Top9 (a new holiday tradition for millennials, I guess), I was reminded by how many positive experiences and wonderful changes have occurred in my life in the past year. In as close to chronological order as I can they include:

1. I went to Ireland for the first time and felt incredibly stupid for my worries about meeting Mark's family and friends. Ireland was the most friendly place I have ever been.

2. Tenerife meant a whole week of lying in the sun, which I only do if forced and desperately needed.

3. Mark got a new Work Permit and was able to come back to Canada shortly after I left Ireland, which meant way less time apart than I had anticipated.

4. Mark became a permanent resident, putting to rest a very stressful time in his life and, purely through proximity, in mine.

5a. Mark and I moved in together officially, and we love our apartment.

5b. Mark and I got a one bedroom apartment so we actually have space. Seriously, if you want to put yourself through the ultimate relationship test trying sharing a basement one-room apartment while one of you works night shifts and hide it from your landlady who lives upstairs.

6. I got to visit New Hampshire several times and spend a lot more time with my grandfather this year.

7. My parents came to Toronto multiple times this year (and for once I wasn't mortified about where I was living).

8. For my birthday Mark somehow found a man to repair my grandfather's typewriter, which is one of the most thoughtful gifts I have ever been given.

9. I got to bring Mark back to BC for a week to meet my family and friends, proving to everyone that he is not imaginary.

10. Mark's sister came to surprise him for his birthday and he somehow did not figure it out despite my flawed cover ups.

11. I got to accompany my grandfather on his Honour Flight, which was deeply moving and experience I will always remember. I am so glad that he let me come with him.

12. We managed to go on many day trips including to Algonquin, London, and Kingston.

13. Neither Mark nor I lost any family members in 2017, which I think is a blessing often overlooked until it's too late.

14. We started having weekly dinners with friends, which is a tradition I hope continues in the new year.

15. It's pretty minor but The Book of Dust came out, which I have been waiting for over 10 years.

16. I got to spend Christmas with a lot of family and it was wonderful to have a gathering for a happy occasion.

17. We got Joey, who is a positive benefit to our lives most days. Except in the morning. Or when he wants to be fed. Or has just been fed. Or wants attention. (Kidding, I am really thankful that we have him and he has been a wonderful addition to our lives).

Joey, in one of his few peaceful moments

All in all, 2017 was a pretty good year. I will consider myself lucky if 2018 is as good. In closing, I'm not going to tie myself down to any particular resolution. I would like to write more, figure out a way to find fulfillment in my career, spend more time with my family, and travel more. If I can figure out the time to do all of them and still get to spend as much time with the people I love in Toronto, 2018 will be a good year.

An accurate summary of 2017

Happy Stories

2015-09-24T18:45:00.001-07:00

I've decided to get back in the hang of writing. It's been told to me quite often that I have some pretty ridiculous stories that it's true. To be honest, I don't think that anything I say or do is THAT out of the ordinary, I just think that, more than anything, I see dark humour in a lot of the otherwise negative experiences that I've had. That's not to say that I've had tons of negative experiences, but the little dips I've experienced are definitely easier to look back on when you can laugh at yourself.

The point of that ramble is to say that I want to start writing down some of the stories I find myself telling more and more often. Ones like the tragic Guinea Pig story, or my more recent discovery of my monkey-helpful birth. I eventually want to compile them. Some people write books of meaningful, touching essays. I want to write a book of ridiculous, self-deprecating memories. I apologize to my friends - I know I have the tendency to tell the same three stories over and over. I want to begin with the one I've told more than pretty much any story from college. Here's the story of my first Russian Class.

******

I'm often asked why I studied Russian at University. Am I Russian? Had I been to Russia before? Was I, like multiple girls in my program, dating a Russian man and really needed to know how to converse with potential in-laws? The truth is much more sad. When I was in my Junior year of High School, we were assigned a six-month paper for History and it could be on anything. Being a mix of somewhat-smart-but-also-lazy, I decided to write a paper on Russian Communism because I knew we would have to study it the next year and wanted to have an easier time. There was a point at the end of High School when you could have named any year in the 20th century and I could tell you everything that happened in Russia or the Soviet Union that year.

My tale of how I got into Russian in college is no more inspiring. I was, at the time, an undecided Anthropology major with an interest in literature but no interest in anything published before the mid-1800s. I joined my first Russian literature class because a girl who lived across the hall in Residence saw that there were two openings in a class called Russian Literature in Restoration and suggested that we take it together. I figured I would have an easy time because I knew a couple of history points on the Russian timeline. I fell in love with the class, the professor, and the entire Russian culture surrounding literature but I tell you all this so that you understand just how little I knew about Russian literature when I first entered the class.

For those of you out there who have never decided to depress yourselves for a weekend by reading late 20th Century Russian literature, Russian Restoration literature (at least in the context of this class) was anything written from perestroika onwards, after the Socialist Realist movement of aggressively pro-Soviet literature became less popular. As restrictions loosened, so did tongues and much of what Russian authors had to say was bleak.

I took the class during my first Montreal winter. It was 30 degrees below zero (hint, that's pretty much the same, whether you're American or Canadian), I was 2000 miles from home, and I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. The first couple of stories that we read were post-Soviet retellings of classic Russian short-stories such as: The Lady With the Little Dog, in which a couple falls in love but after a few weeks together they return to regular life where they will forever know that they are dissatisfied with the status quo; and The Overcoat, in which an impoverished man going through a crisis becomes obsessed with purchasing a nice coat so that he can feel superior to his colleagues, but when he is robbed and left without it he dies cold, alone, and anonymous in the street. We read the disheartening works by the future subject of my Thesis, Lyudmila Petrushevskaya, who has spent 30 years writing stories about women trapped in unhappy lives in heartless Soviet apartments, and read a series of short stories about WWII amputees who found no support from the state. Needless to say, by the end of the semester I was beginning to wonder if there was a single happy soul to be found anywhere in Russia. This was my first introduction to what I know consider the "Of course she has to die at the end" genre of Russian Literature.

Which brings me to the story of the class which is my go-to explanation when people, upon hearing what I studied, say, "Huh. What was like that like?"

I wish I could remember what the story was called. It's possible that in my memory I've mixed a bunch of different snippets of all the sad stories we read that semester. I have tried Googling the short story but haven't been able to track it down. If I had to guess, I would say it was probably a very long story by the very talented Ludmila Ulitskaya. The closest thing I've found seems to be a translation of "How Much Women Know" by Petrushevskaya, but it's missing some key points.

The story told the tale of an poor, unhappily married couple, desperately trying to find a bigger home. The husband and wife have few dreams left but their obsession with moving into a slightly larger apartment, just big enough that their child can have their own room and the parents can sleep through the night. They agree to move the wife's(?) sick mother into their home, not out of kindness but out of a desire that this will speed up the application process for a larger apartment. The mother torments them both and the marriage begins to crumble. Neither parent thinks much of the child. The husband becomes consumed in an affair with a woman he loves far more than his wife but will never be with. The wife discovers that she is pregnant but they are too poor to have another child, and knows her husband is unfaithful. The husband has a heartbreaking conversation with his mistress and the same day, the wife goes to have a secret back-alley abortion, never-telling her husband that she was pregnant. They are so consumed with their own problems and anger at the grandmother that they stop caring for her and she quietly dies, forgotten. Immediately after they are granted a bigger apartment, enough space for an invalid parent, or a child that was never born.

The day we reviewed it in class, I was at my emotional end with Russian literature. I was shocked at how casually affairs, abortion, and death were discussed. I was at a naive point in my Russian reading, waiting for the end of the story to bring a romantic reconciliation or at least a chance at a nice room for the dying grandmother.

At the end of class that day my professor, Lyudmila (are you starting to sense a theme?), asked what we thought of the class and what we thought of the story.

One girl raised her hand. She really liked the feminist angle - discussing abortion is so taboo, she respected the author, whom she assumed was oppressed (remember, at McGill everyone's oppressed). She respected how the woman took control over her own life, which you wouldn't see in earlier Russian literature.

This turned into a long discussion about abortion in the Soviet Union and the strange progression and regression of women's rights. We talked about affairs and the alarming infidelity rates during the fall of Communism. Lyudmila stressed how these themes weren't the same as they would be in other forms of literature. They weren't Tolstoian judgements of characters, they were just facts of life.

But it bothered me. I was't used to reading anything that way and, being romantic at heart, I still wanted them to find a route to happiness. I wanted the husband to repent, the wife to have a baby, and for everyone to live happily every after. I wished they'd lived in the tiny apartment, found some money, and found a way to be harmonious under one roof. Being foolish and in first year, I raised my hand.

"I like the class," I said, "And I like the things we've studied. Maybe this is just because I haven't read any other Russian literature. But does it get...well... less depressing?"

"What do you mean?" asked Lyudmila, looking genuinely perplexed, "It is happy story. The family got bigger apartment, and no one had to live with grandmother!"

New Blog!

2015-05-27T21:00:00.000-07:00

Clearly, CLEARLY I have failed miserably at writing in this blog. But I have a new one! I am doing a new project where I let people tell me something that they find relaxing and I will do it every night for a week. I'm going to do this for the next year.

If you are interested in reading more about it or want to see my progress, please check it out at thehappyyearmission.blogspot.com

Adventures of the Modern Era

2014-07-18T22:13:00.001-07:00

I sat down after a great evening to write a cheerful blog post and assure my family that despite all the "Help, I'm broke!" phone calls they have received I am, in fact, alive, well, and happy.

But then it happened. All of technology decided to turn against me right in my moment of jubilation as though it knew that I was unjustly satisfied with the world. And in an instant, all three of the corporations whom I have been shamelessly supporting despite claims by some that they are evil, all three whom I have sworn to love because they provide me with my very life support (my computer), all three turned against me.

So now it's a rant. A rant specifically targeted at Google, Microsoft, and Apple. Anyone who has had the misfortune of having a discussion with me at any point in the last two years knows that I have a very complicated relationship with my computer. While it allows me to watch commercial-less TV in a way that no real television ever could, it has quickly become the bane of my existence (for those playing the game at home, that's about the 5th time I've used that phrase in my blog so far). By the age of two my laptop was unable to go more than two hours without being plugged in. Now, at the age of just-under-four, my computer has simply become my personal heating device. Over the past year I have begun to delete all my files and extra applications in a childish attempt to prolong its life but even I am forced to admit that perhaps there is little point. Each time a new operating system has come out and I have foolishly fallen for the update, my computer has crashed in such a spectacular manner that it has taken anywhere from one day's to one week's work with it. Like a prisoner who squeals the moment they are brought into the station, my computer routinely announces to my essays, my theses, my open browser tabs, "If I'm getting punished I'm taking EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE DOWN WITH ME."

Which brings me to this evening. See my computer, now unable to survive without a charge for more than an hour, has also developed a fun personality flaw whereby it is unable to function with more than three applications open at any given moment. It overheats in such a way that back in April, the charger caught fire ("That's what happens if you take your computer in a bag often," said the Apple Genius, who clearly has no concept of what a laptop is.) "SO CLOSE SOME APPLICATIONS," you say. But in the process of job hunting I routinely have Chrome, Microsoft Word, and Apple Mail all open at the same time (coincidentally the three companies who have wronged me this evening. I was about to say that Google compensates for everything because they provide me with Chrome, but just now Chrome killed my blogger page and I had to start again). ANYWAYS, add to that the frustrating tendency for my computer to spontaneously announce that it is opening another program, say iMessage, version 9000 of iTunes or yet another update (I'm not falling for that again.) and suddenly it has reached the critical four program point (FPP). Which means each program topples one by one; Apple Mail nearly always leads the charge.

So of course it was tonight, when I tried to open Blogger, that it decided it was time to take a swipe at my happiness. It technically began 16 day ago, when my password "expired" (k, that's not a thing. My password is not milk.) and I was forced to get a new one. Unfortunately, as I have been doing many life things that involve coming up with passwords lately (job applications, new e-mail addresses, changing everything after that silly security leak) I promptly forgot the new password and had to have it e-mailed to me. Which is a point of frustration anyways. I'm so tired of all these websites that have 8000 rules about what my password can and cannot be. (Nothing you've had before, must have a number, must have some caps lock, must have at least two symbols.) Seriously, it is my right as an American to make my password as stupid and useless as I want. If I make all my passwords "password" that's my fault and I can live with the horrifying error of having someone hack my personal creative writing blog. And I mock it because it always seems to be the most useless websites that have the most complicated rules. No, Neopets, I lied on my personal info section so I really don't care if someone steals my fake internet points.

Sorry for the side-rant. The point being, I had to do the stupid reset. And RIGHT as I clicked the button, I got an iMessage which pushed me into the danger zone of the FPP, so of course Mail crashed in a painfully slow and useless fashion. "HAHA," I thought, "That's why I tricked you, Macbook! I anticipated your uselessness this evening I sent it to the one e-mail address that doesn't rely on Mail! Thank goodness my Hotmail depends on Microsoft instead! AHAHAHA!" So I logged into my old childhood e-mail to retrieve my password and my goodness has it changed. For starters, I don't think I've used Hotmail since it became Microsoft but the worst was yet to come. I was greeted by a cheerful message that told me that Hotmail has undergone security updates and so I need to type in a special access code. Which they have e-mailed to my account on Apple Mail.

So a restart later and Apple mail works. After 20 minutes of loading programs I can get into my Mail, where I find the Hotmail activation code. Get into Hotmail, find the reset link, reset the Blogger, which sends confirmation to my Mail account (why? I have given up asking), all so that I can make up yet another new password for my Google account. My favourite part of all of this was of course at the end when Google tells you "This would would really be more secure if you gave us your mobile phone number. You should give us your mobile number. Give it to us. Now. Please. Do it. Trust us," as though I really want Google to find one more facet of my life at which to slowly chip away. Seriously, I have asked telemarketers to get rid of my number who waste less of my time than Google has tonight.

The point of this whole story being that I have egg on my face. I am not mad at my computer because it is the world's most expensive heater. I am not mad at Apple because they continue to tell me that there's nothing wrong with a computer or with programs that behave this way. I am not mad at Microsoft because I had to jump through hoops to access a junk e-mail account filled with MSN spam from 2002 and offers from 3 different virtual pet websites (I was an only-child, ok?). I'm not even mad at Google for making me change yet another password when my old one was beautiful, perfect, and most importantly, memorized. I'm mad at all three because now I have egg on my face.

For two weeks I have been making fun of my SO every day for downloading an app to keep track of his passwords. I don't think he trusts me fully because every time he logs on he keeps his passwords invisible and just uses copy/paste. I think there's something laughable about a password-keeping app that keeps your passwords so secret that even you can't see them. I have relentlessly mocked him for having such a bad memory that he can't keep track of the four passwords that he uses every day.

I am mad at all three companies because now, thanks to them, I had to contact him to find out the name of the App. I have a million various usernames with a million various passwords that I have always managed to remember but for whatever reason this was the straw that broke the camel's back. And now, because I asked, my SO knows that I have it. I downloaded the App. And the moment I tried to open it, Apple Mail crashed.

Update

2014-07-04T12:36:00.002-07:00

I'm getting back in the blogging game, slowly but surely. The last time I posted anything I was recently out of school, unemployed and living in Montreal. My life is almost exactly the same now except that I am recently out of school, unemployed and living in Toronto.

So that happened! I made the move to Toronto and am living downtown, both loving and hating the city. I think it will be a pretty large adjustment but luckily "funemployment" (I'm trying to be upbeat, folks) means that nothing really feels real yet. I love the fact that I am yet to run out of things to do. Every day there is some new touristy thing that I can see I hadn't even considered the day before. I'm still adjusting to the general city attitude but I think I will get there. I adjusted to Montreal, I can adjust to this.

I suppose the hardest part has been how small I feel. I know, I know, hold the jokes, I'm aware that I always feel small, ha ha ha. A few days ago I was literally pushed off a subway during rush hour and I realized that, as much as Montreal could drive me crazy, I lived in a particularly safe, secluded little bubble. Most of the people I saw every day were my age, preoccupied with thoughts of papers and exams. It's a little weird to realize that the people I pass every day on the street now are real people with real lives. The people on streets in suits wear them because they have real jobs, not because they're management students.

But I am adjusting. Because I have been asked 1000 times already "Why Toronto?" I will give the short, sweet, simple answer and while I know why everyone thinks I moved here, I promise that this is the reason. I want to live in a city. I loved the fact that I could walk anywhere in Montreal. I loved living in my terrible apartment and being able to see anyone I knew if I walked 20 minutes. I loved being able to find anything I needed within a 5 minute radius of my home.

"But Colleen!" you say (and I know you say it because I've been asked this no short of 30 times), "Why not just stay in Montreal?" And I wish I could just give you one simple reason. I loved Montreal as a student but I never, ever, ever want to pay taxes to any level of government in Quebec. I never want to know that any part of my paycheque goes towards to paying for the Conespiracy (my personal belief that Montreal invested in buying too many orange traffic cones and now randomly sets them up around the city to make it look as though there is construction, when clearly no work is being done). I don't want to pay for the potholes and the inconsistent garbage fines and the unintelligible traffic control. I don't want to pay for the man who gargles into the microphone on the subway instead of making announcements (that's not a stab at the Francophones - I don't know a single person who has ever understood an announcement on the STM). But most of all, I don't speak enough French.
"Fine," you say, "but what about Victoria? It's a city, it says so on the signs!" No. No it isn't. Anything whose three biggest events are two farm fairs and tea party is not a city.
"Well, you live right next to Vancouver, one of the most beautiful cities in the world!" And I would agree. But I'm just not ready to move back there yet.

The truth is, I really let myself down last summer. I had this incredible opportunity to be independent and to live in another country, experience the culture, be a totally different person if I so chose. But I was so miserable there. I spent two months pitying myself and wishing that I could go back to Montreal and I need to prove to myself that it was an isolated experience, not a reflection of who I am. I needed to prove to myself that I could be far from home and figure things out for myself without dissolving into the mess of self-deprecation that I became the last time I attempted this. And I think that I am doing that. When I reflect on how I have felt for the last month versus how I felt this time last year I can see the difference. While I am certainly adjusting to living here and have some low points, I don't feel the same kind of panic or dread that I felt while I was in Saint Petersburg. I have had some moments of homesickness but I have not searched prices for plane tickets home so I am already beating 2013 Colleen.

And the difference between then and now is exactly why I chose Toronto. I think living in Montreal made me feel much more patriotic in a strange reply to the Quebec culture around me. Over the past two years I have spent a lot of time driving through every part of Ontario and it made me remember when I was little and would come visit family in Guelph and friends in Thunder Bay. Perhaps it's the magic of selective memory but Adult (ha!) Colleen loves the memories that I have of coming to Ontario as a child. I have been fortunate enough to grow up in Western Canada, a culture that I think it's pretty distinct, and I'm ready to experience whatever it is that my brain thinks is "True Canada."

Admittedly, I wish I had actually visited Toronto before I spontaneously decided to move here because, as it turns out, I cannot just walk anywhere in 20 minutes. Toronto is much larger than Google Maps had me believe. But no regrets! I knew that I would have a lot of friends in this city for the summer so at least while I was still adjusting to everything, I would have some kind of support system. The people that I know here have been wonderful and I am so, so thankful that I have every one of them in my lie. And come September, when they all leave for school, I will be fortunate enough to have a great new roommate. My friend Tracy lived down the hall from me in Residence and was the only other person in my building who was foolish enough to also take Archaeology 101 and I can't wait for her to arrive! It's nice to drag someone along on this transition in my life.

So that's the answer. I know I said it was short and sweet but I have lied to you before about length and I probably will again. I suppose moving to Toronto feels to me like a small-town Canadian version of moving to New York City. I'm not as independent as I would like to believe, thanks to the incredible support of my family (I'm thankful, guys, please don't take this as a sign that I want to be totally independent....) but I think I am at least figuring some things out for myself.

I will post again when I have a job so I can brag about how excited I am to be a real adult. In the meantime, I am happy, healthy (aside from the Instant Noodle diet) and ready to take on Toronto!

I Swear I'm Still Here!

2014-05-02T14:10:00.002-07:00

I recognize that it has been a while since I last posted. And by a while, I mean nearly a year.
At first, it was just because Russia took a lot out of me. I was sad for a lot of my trip and it took me a long time to realize that it wasn't my fault, nor was it anyone else's, it's just something that happens sometimes when you get thrown into a new culture and aren't prepared. I had anticipated that I would be staying with a family and instead I was living with an older woman who wanted to be able to afford to live on her own, without borders, without dependance on her son, without the day-to-day struggle of trying to afford something as simple as clean drinking water. I avoided blogging for a while because it made me sad to look at what I had written, then it made me sad to realize that I had finally gained true independence and wasted it being miserable. But it is what it is. I am so glad that I went and I am also glad that I stayed in Canada during the Olympics. I meant to say all of this much earlier in the year but I was busy with school.

So! Happier news! I'm all done! It is terrifying and exciting and relieving. I handed in my thesis last week (part 2 of 2) and have been sleeping the days away since. I became an Honours student in the last year, which meant that I had two write 2 theses (I don't know why my department is the only one that requires TWO THESES but that's ok). I actually really enjoyed writing one of them and want to go back and fix it up at some point. I loved getting to do the independent research and I was helped by my favorite professors at McGill. I have spent so much of the past four years wishing that I could be half as smart as my Lit prof here and so I greatly appreciated having had the opportunity to work with her.

"Now what?" you might ask! That is an excellent question and if you know the answer I would love to hear it! I officially have a sublet in Toronto for the summer with intentions of finding an apartment in the city in August. I am currently undertaking the job hunt and boy was I unprepared. I don't know why I always assumed that everyone would happily hire a Russian major but I was apparently mistaken. Which is fine and maybe a blessing in disguise. I finally realized what it is that I want to do for work and so I am starting to apply to jobs that I am actually passionate about, rather than data entry jobs that I thought I was perhaps qualified for, if not excited about. I think I've found an area that I am actually passionate about so I hope that my enthusiasm makes a difference.

In the meantime, I am enjoying my freedom. I realize that this is probably the last chance that I have to take a nap at 4pm "just because" so that's exactly what I'm going to do. I am going to Toronto on Monday to "visit" the city for the first time (I have been before, but always when I had a lot of things to do so I have never actually looked around at all the tourist attractions) and to see the Lion King! Then back to BC for a week followed by graduation. I can't believe how quickly it all went by!

I think I'm going to miss it. I am eager to graduate and to leave Quebec (I think I was in Montreal for exactly the right amount of time at the right age), but I am going to miss the considerable freedom that I've had. I am excited about the next chapter of my life, whatever that might be, but I am definitely going to miss everything that I have here. My roommate, especially, has been an incredible part of the last two years and I can't imagine living without him (or his Netflix). Hopefully the next step is just as rewarding!

These Are the Days of Miracle and Wonder, This is the Long Distance Call

2013-07-12T08:23:00.001-07:00

I felt the need to post another thing about my trip because someone described the last post as "emo" and I firmly believe that that word belongs in 2005. I recognize that my blogs from Russia haven't exactly had the most uplifting tone but that is because the only time I write in my blog is when I'm home early enough to sit down and type everything out. So long as I've been happy, out having fun, I haven't had the time or motivation to spend an hour writing about my feelings. That's part of the reason there have been so few posts while I've been here.

As a further disclaimer, yesterday's bit was written at one of my lowest points on this trip. Whenever I blog (or write at all) I tend to write everything out by hand and then type it up later. Everything I wrote yesterday about how much I hated being here was written immediately after a particular humiliating shaming by my babushka, who caught me handwashing my underwear and yelled at me excessively about how she had never been so disrespected before. I was pretty rattled and it seemed easiest to blame it on the program. I've spent a lot of time conflicted because during the second half of my stay something appeared to happen to my babushka that caused her to be angry and cold all the time, but I couldn't get angry back because I pitied her. And now I'm rambling.

SO HAPPY POST. Believe it or not, I have in fact LOVED my time here. It still hasn't sunk in yet that I'm leaving tomorrow but I know that when it does it will make me sad. Everything else aside, the two trips we made to Moscow made the whole stay worth it. White Nights was another highlight but honestly the best part of Russia to me was simply spending my time relaxing in the park or eating dinner or wandering the city the only other 11 people in Canada crazy enough to want to do this.

So as I leave Russia I must take the colonizer's approach and leave some advice behind.

1. Half-Bangs.
There are two kinds of acceptable bangs. There are the full bangs, the side bangs and the no bangs. Russian fashion apparently could not decide between the two styles as one of the most popular sites here is the Half-Bang.

This is something I cringe at when I see it on men but what gets me is the women! The women are constantly rocking the half-bang! Or worse, they don't know where the bangs go. Rather than having short hair from temple-to-temple, it goes all the way around. Which is a pretty weird haircut at first but then I figured it out. It makes it easier to transition into...

2. The Mullet.

I don't need to explain this one or why it's unacceptable. Women have mullets, men have mullets, children have mullets. It's as though Russia looks back fondly on 1991 and tries to relive it through the haircuts of the time. In the words of another girl on the trip "You can show the hairdresser a picture of Taylor Swift and they'll still give you a mullet."

3. White Pants

I don't mean this in the "No white after labour day" kind of way. I just really want to teach Russia about what to wear with what. And by that I mean that I don't think I've seen a single pair of white pants without black underwear, or thick underwear, or neon underwear, or anything else that seemlessly hides under your pants. But I think they are just trying to keep up with the men and their

4. Short shorts.

I can't really criticize this because I know it's European thing and it's hot out and everything but seriously. If it looks like underwear and it feels like underwear, I probably don't want to walk behind it for 8 blocks...

5. The stopping and staring.

This one isn't really a clothing thing. It's just that Russian women tend to wear heels EVERYWHERE. And I wish I had the power to do that I really do. But the problem is that it means they're slowly meandering down the street and it makes it impossible to walk at a normal human pace. Which is fine because I've noticed that most of the people here seem to be totally unaware of the space around them (This is most likely tourists who are too busy staring at buildings to remember to keep moving. I'm sure people who live here are just as annoyed by it as I am.)

I can't really think of anything. Honestly, Russia's hardly different from anywhere else. It's easy to complain about because of the few strange differences but it's been a lot of fun. So here are some of my favorite parts of Russia!

1. The advertisements.

Russia has a pretty weird concept of advertising. Apparently, if you want advertisements sewn onto football shirts you need to pay $13 an ad (because of the material). My favorite part, though, are the ads in the metro. You know how you'll see billboards in North America that say "Rent this space!" or something? In Russia they just fill the blank spaces (and there are a lot of them) with silly pictures. Mostly of cats. There are just lots of cat pictures all over the metro. My favorite was of a bird's-eye view of a cat on a pedestal but when I went to take a picture of it today, it had been changed to a picture of very close-up corn.

2. The Sour Cream.

In North America sour cream is a topping for (I honestly tried to think of numerous things but I couldn't) Mexican food and anything that needs to be cooled down (Indian food?). It appears to be the Russian ketchup. The other day I was forced to eat 10 pancakes because after I ate 7 (ambitious, I know), my babushka became offended that I didn't try any of her sour cream on the pancakes. So I had to eat three more to eat the "delicious flavor." The next day we had fried cheese with sour cream. She has also repeatedly asked if I want it with my bread in the morning.

3. Producties!

Russia is covered in Deps (corner stores). I love the fact that I rarely have to walk more than 5 minutes to get food. And unlike the deps in Quebec, they often have a full meat and cheese section, a fruit and veggie section, as well as anything else that you might think of. Today we drank wine in the park which we bought at a corner store for $5.

4. The prices.

I keep being stingy here and thinking "Why would I spend 200 rubles to get a meal here when it's only 100 rubles at a stolovaya (cafeteria)?" before remembering that I'm arguing over three dollars. It was remarkably easy to stick to a budget of 2 meals a day plus coffee, snacks and personal necessities for $10. Except the clothes.

5. The clothes.

The English shirts! I don't know what it is about Russia, whether it's the fact that the colors on the flag are the same as the ones on the Russian flag, but they're all about the American and British flags. T-shirts with British flags, American flag shorts, jackets that say USA - You would think that you were at a very awkward July 4th party sometimes on the metro.

So it's been a blast. I'm so glad that I came here. All else aside, this is an experience that I know that I was incredibly luck to have and I can't imagine my summer without this. The program drove me crazy sometimes but once you accept that disorganization is simply a part of Russian culture, it is a lot easier to deal with. I've had my last day of lying in the park, eating bread and cheese and drinking wine, and that makes me a little sad.

Only 4 more days and I'll be back in BC. In the meantime, however, I'm off to France for 3 days where I'll meet up with a friend who took me to France almost 10 years ago! Пока России!

Well This Will Eat Up A Year of My Life And Then There's All That Weight To Be Lost

2013-07-11T12:16:00.000-07:00

My true thoughts on Russia.

So. Because my blog is where I first announced that I'd made a university decision it seems only fitting that I re-announce my intentions to go to university. That is to say, rather than volunteering with the Olympics in the winter I will picked up another minor and graduate in the spring.

This summer has been eye-opening in a number of ways. Last week I ran into some difficulties with the organizing committee (or so I thought. They had forgotten that everything was fine, as tends to happen here). As I sat down to write the necessary e-mails o sort everything out I was forced to accept that I had been self-handicapping because I was apprehensive about coming back and that maybe it's healthy to listen to that apprehensive. Time for a brutally honest blog.

I didn't want to come to Russia. At least not this summer. I mean, I have wanted to come to Russia for years and the program sounded great but I was hesitant to sign up and write my essays because the more I tried to meet the requirements the less confidence I had in myself. But it was the living situation that did it. The moment the interviewer told me that I would be staying alone with a homestay was the moment that I knew that I in no way wanted to come to Russia on this exchange. But by the time they told me that we could not be in dorms but instead would be living with old women, I had already been accepted to the program and didn't want to look weak by backing out.

That's not to say that I regret coming. I've had a lot of fun and it was entirely worth the negatives to get this experience. I didn't realize until after I left my test today that I have officially completed the last Russian exam that I ever need to take and after tomorrow, I don't ever have to speak Russian again if I so choose. The Canadians who came as a part of this program are awesome people and I'm so glad that I got the change to get to know them. I'm happy that I had this opportunity. But I am beyond ready to come home.

More than anything, I'm saying that I should probably learn to listen to my gut. I had a hilarious, incredible, fun, educational, more adjectives couple of months. At the same time, though, I have to wonder whether I would have gotten more out of the program, or at least enjoyed myself earlier, if I had entered it with a positive mindset. When faced with the notion of spending more months in Russia, in the winter, surrounded by people who I've never met who don't necessarily speak English, 5 to a room and paying for the experience of bringing coffee to reporters in the middle of the night I feel that I may look on it the same way.

On the flip side, I love McGill. While I whine a lot about Quebec and about my classes, I've had a lot of regrets about rushing through my program. I have no idea where I want to be when I graduate and I wouldn't mind the extra time to figure it out. I also hate the thought of having to find a subletter in January... What's more, this experience has been enough fun that I don't feel pressure to go back so soon. While there are still many things that I want to see in Russia, and I would love to come back when I have the money to stay in a hotel and not the home of an old lady who resents that I bathe, I no longer feel like I'm missing it. I don't think that I'll watch the Olympics on TV and feel as though I would have gotten any more out of Russia than what I have gotten these past 8 weeks.

I've finished my degree. And with that I say goodbye to the necessity to ever take Russian again, if I so choose. The program ended in the most fitting way possible. They forgot to tell us about the ceremony and we got out of class for lunch only to find out that in 10 minutes they would be presenting the certificates. Which was odd considering that our final was after lunch. But we went into a classroom where the lights remained off and a lady who we met on our first day told us that we were expected to eat all three of the pies on the table. There were only 10 of us there. Next to them was a kettle, some tea bags and some disposable cups. It was very nice, though my babushka definitely misled me ("You should have gone to Sam's school! They give you lots of vodka and sometimes even a little chicken!"). Then they gave us our certificates. "Who is Colleen Chase? Your certificate, yay, clap clap clap, ok. Who is Grace? Your certificate..."

I then went and took my final which I almost certainly failed and yet, as with all Russian classes I've taken, seems to have no impact on anything. It was only later when I was by myself that I realized that I'd finished Russian forever. And what a relief that was. We went out to celebrate at Jamie Oliver's new restaurant and it was the best, if least Russian, meal that I've had in Saint Petersburg to date. If I don't make it home it's because I never wake up from this food coma.

So that's the announcement blog! I'll write an actual happy, silly blog on Saturday from Paris (!!!) but in the meantime I just wanted to put somewhere on the web that I'm taking on an extra semester so that I don't back out.

Happy July!

Here are some happy pictures!

Russian Graveyard (where Khrushchev is buried)

Moscow Metro is intense

Typical Russian ice cream.

Sh** My Culture Prof Says

2013-06-19T09:11:00.001-07:00

I am going to keep adding to this as the trip goes, I think. Our Култура prof is an interesting guy who has started trying to teach us in English. During our most recent class he decided to teach us about the positive things that Stalin did for Russia "because you can find all the bad things in 5 minutes on internet. But 80% are lies." I was actually pretty excited for the class because, having read more biographies on Stalin than a single person ever should, it was everything I had hoped for. This whole time I've been waiting for a really stereotypical class that taught a Soviet Russian standpoint on Russian history. And I found it! Sometimes, Gleb (our prof) presents us with an alternative view of Russian history. Sometimes, it's simply a language barrier because he uses funny analogies to talk around words that he does not know.

So here are some delightful quotes from my favorite class!

On Gulags: "No one is late for work. If you are twenty minutes late you go to help build for no pay and low food."

On Socialism: "If you go to government and say, "I want car," you get car. But you don't get two car. You don't need two car."

On "Betrayal": "Chechnya betray Stalin. After war, Stalin work with everyone. Except Chechen nation. Whole nation sent to... big field in Kazakhstan. People now think it's cruel but he could have killed them!"

On Why History is Unfair to Stalin: "He had many, many problems in personal life. Problem was he didn't have personal life."...
"He was dangerous idealist. Didn't know that when he started machine he couldn't stop it."
"He only wanted to kill political enemies. And was not personal. Soviet Union very not biased. You know because he also kill his friends. Party could never be corrupt because even if you're on the top, next day you're executed."
"Stalin never wanted many people deaths. Just thought it would be about 100,000 people, not 1 million." (Justification?)

On Family: "He have very bad personal life. He have no personal life. His wife was a bad woman, one son was a drunkster..."

On Stalin and Jewish Russians (aka, Gleb glosses over the Jewish Doctor Plot): "Israel was Stalin's idea. Many people, they think he was anti-Semite but he was not. He loved to help them. He did not want to kill the Jews. Just to send them elsewhere."
"Like Georgian, he should be like guy who doesn't like Jews."

On Stalin, Roosevelt and Churchill: "Historians thought [Stalin] were smarter than Roosevelt and Churchill because he read. In spite of them, he read."

On Khrushchev: "Was very stupid man. He was always planting corn. Because of him, Russia has agricultural crisis. But everyone who leads Russia causes agriculture crisis. He also causes Caribbean Crisis." (Gleb on the Cuban Missile Crisis)
"Khrushchev built a lot of stupid houses that came and tried to fall on your head."

On Brezhnev: "Was smart but then he had stroke and lucky for him but unlucky for country he live long, long, long time."

On Russian Gym class: "Everyone now should be jealous of we were making body builders."

On how to study Stalin: "Don't read the Soviet scholars about Soviet Union after 1953 because they all say bad things about Stalin."

On what Westerners think of Russians: "Image now of Russian man is one who has the beard and the sled and the little glasses and is Engineer. And he can sing and play the guitar."

Strange Things Done in the Midnight Sun

2013-06-17T12:09:00.001-07:00

Time for another big update! A lot has happened since the last time I posted on this but I keep switching between being very happy and very sad, and I resolved to stop updating this if I was just going to use it to whine. Also, I was pretty sick and spent most of my time sleeping (ie; I man-colded last week).
So! First things first! I went to Moscow the weekend before last and it was wonderful. I'm really excited to go back. As cool and cultural as Saint Petersburg is, there is something about the atmosphere of Moscow that made me want to spend all of my time there. Red Square had this kind of manufactured familiarity that reminded me of a theme park. Even though it was huge and foreign and I've never been anywhere like it I felt like I could have found my way around no problem once I'd walked through it the first time.
I was prepared for a crazy city with millions of people but it was surprisingly empty. Whereas I feel pretty anxious on the SPb metro due to the sheer number of people who cram into the cars downtown, even taking the metro home from Red Square I was always able to get a seat. Plus the stations were SUPER nice. I'm convinced that any surplus earned during the Soviet period went to carving huge pillars for the subway system. That said, I'm glad that I saw the downsides to Moscow. At first I regretted the fact that I had gone to Petersburg rather than Moscow, but it took one walk home alone at night to appreciate my neighborhood here.
We ran into a lot of interesting Russian tendencies during our trip. When we were buying the tickets for the train it took 40 minutes to get through the 6 people in front of us in line because the ticket people kept leaving and taking the cash drawer with them (Also, the credit card machine broke). It is not unheard of them to just stop serving you if they don't feel like it. When we got to the front we could see the sign explaining the times when the windows close. Apparently they just shut down for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day, because rather than rotate shifts everything just shuts down when someone goes on a break. This seemed crazy inefficient, but it was the same way at the Kremlin. We got in line for tickets but the ticket booths were only open for 45 minute windows 4 times a day. After waiting a long time we discovered that the Kremlin was, in fact, closed for the week.
To be honest, even if I had just sat in bed all day in Moscow (which I pretty much did - I dedicated my weekend to getting everyone else sick) the highlight was definitely the comfort. This includes eating all of our meals at a hilariously incompetent restaurant - one day they failed to make us pancakes and although we were the only people in the restaurant, it took them an hour to admit to us that they didn't even have the ingredients. The train (we all know I love trains) gave us actual pillows, which was a welcome change. I was pretty tempted to steal it. And say what you will about hostels, those Ikea beds provided me with the two best nights of sleep I've had since arriving. It was a wonderful, much needed break. If you're ever thinking of going to Moscow and don't mind staying at a hostel without lock/lockers, I recommend the Green ManGo.
Probably one of the coolest moments of the trip (at least for me) was going to see Saint Basil's Cathedral. For the record, I would not advertise that he was the Patron Saint of Ivan the Terrible but that's just me.... As we were standing in line for tickets it started to rain and by the time we got up to the top floor of the church there was a thunderstorm so we waited in an old stone room, overlooking the city and waiting out the rain. Meanwhile, a men's choir was trying to sell CDs and so were singing somewhere in the center of the cathedral. Their voices echoed through the whole church and I can't describe how neat it was to sit in that incredible church while these voices rang out through the cathedral and you couldn't see them (for a long time I didn't know who they were or why they were there). It was just one of the most beautiful things that I have ever heard.
That said, I'm glad that it was just a quick trip. Moscow lived up to most of the Russian stereotypes that I had not yet seen in SPb. Between the drunks at 9am and the sexual harassment at night, Moscow made me pretty fond of my host family.
Perhaps the strangest part of Moscow was the Izmailovo Market, which literally looks like Russian Disneyland. You get off the metro in what looks like a bad neighborhood on the outskirts of the city and walk for one block. Suddenly there's a beautiful green area and a massive castle that feels incredibly out of place. The whole thing is set up like a huge medieval market, a little cheesy but it suits the backdrop.
The train back was ridiculously nice. I could have fit 3 Colleens between my seat and the seat in front of me! (For those of you keeping track, a Colleen is about a foot and a McCutcheon is about an ounce). I tried caviar chips. I do not recommend them but I felt like laughing at peasants while I ate them so that was pretty cool.
The rest of the week was not worth talking about. I've been busy 1) dealing with Montreal being Montreal (I was really hoping that the mayor's arrest would make my fines mysteriously disappear...) and 2) sleeping like a bear. I've left the house pretty much only for $8 Starbucks (silly me for assuming that prices are fixed) and to go to Окей. Окей is like the Russian version of Dollarama, if Dollarama sold whole dead fish. Yesterday, I went to Peterhoff and wandered around with everyone but we left pretty early because apparently we're old people now. The highlight was easily getting in as a Russian student when most of our group had to pay the foreign student price. Travel tip: if you're ever in Petersburg, Peterhoff is a stunning day trip but also surprisingly racist.
I think we've hit a new point of laziness here. At first, it was totally reasonable to me to take an afternoon off from sight-seeing to drink wine in the park but now I'm too lazy to even go downtown to get the wine. The other day we all met at the Hermitage but didn't go in because we were too lazy to wait in the five minute line...
I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing here. I hit the point the other night where I took Gravol at 7pm just because I was bored of being awake. It was a wake-up call (well, it was several hours of deep sleep later) that I've got to start living up to the experience I'm getting. I decided today to move back into a harder class because 1) I think part of why I'm so lethargic is because I'm bored with the work that I'm doing and 2) because I got in a fight with the conversation prof for my group about gay rights (oops) and am now afraid of her. I'm hoping that Smolny will let me take a couple of classes from each group and that for some reason McGill will give me credit for it.
That said, I'm really looking forward to everything that's coming up. I'm going back to Moscow soon because during our trip both the Kremlin and Lenin's Mausoleum were closed (I know, why bother going?). I think we're also going to go to Pushkin one day and maybe even test out a Russian bathhouse. I'm hoping to go to a Russian Orthodox service before I leave, though there will be no pictures of that.
Speaking of pictures!

Kremlin on a cloudy day

I told you - crazy leg room.

St. Petersburg from Saint Isaac's Cathedral

Chilling at Peterhoff

The night train was a little more Soviet than the train home...

Becoming Raskolnikov: Tales From the Neva

2013-06-05T06:31:00.000-07:00

The scariest part of my exchange so far was definitely the moment that I realized that I understand Dostoevsky. For those who have never read it, Crime and Punishment is the inner thoughts of a man named Raskolnikov who plans and executes a murder (or two) after the combination of the extreme smell, heat and inability to sleep in St. Petersburg when the sun never sets results in madness (plot). Before, I could see that it was well-written but thought that it was a strange and inaccessible novel. After two and half weeks of being awake at all hours in 30 degree heat, unable to drink the water or even eat some of the food (more later), I am frightened to discover that I understand the motivation completely. This city could easily drive a person to madness.

That's not to say that it's bad. It's just a little confusing here. Our program has no real direction and we have no guides to tell us about the city or the culture. It's a lot of experimentation while we figure out how things work here. And that can be fun.

Tales from St. Petersburg:

1. Practicing Russian

It is pretty hard to practice Russian here if you are as bad at it as I am. The minute you pause to try to remember a word, people usually get frustrated and if they can speak English they do and if not, they find someone who can. The worst is when they assume that you are asking for the wrong thing because they don't think that you understand what you're asking for. My babushka will often sigh when I speak and get her English-speaking son to translate, only to have him repeat exactly what I've just said (I think it's a passive aggressive way for her to show me that she simply can't believe I'm really saying such crazy things as "I will wake up early tomorrow" and "I need to wash my towel.")

Yesterday my free internet expired so naturally I went in a day early (Monday) out of paranoia that I may have to spend a few hours without it. I managed to speak to the clerk entirely in Russian and order a data plan for my router. When I had to pay, my credit card was rejected so I had to come back the next day. When I returned yesterday, he was not there and I instead talked to a man who insisted on speaking to me in English while I only spoke in Russian. He told me that I would have to pay "one hundred roubles for a sim card" and we got in an argument because I knew the price of the plan and that there was no charge for a sim card. I kept saying that "the man I spoke to yesterday did not charge me for a sim card. There is no one hundred rouble charge." We argued for a long time before I realized that he misunderstood the words "hundred" and "sim card." We were arguing about the same thing. (I should mention that 100 roubles is about three dollars... It's a principle thing).

2. Waiters

Perhaps one of the more strange but harmless differences here is the restaurants. Waiters are very, very nice even though they don't receive tips, yet today was the first meal in a long time where the waiter has remembered all of our orders. Sometimes it's because they don't write anything down but even when they do, there are often forgotten meals. Furthermore, restaurants run like fast food restaurants where orders are made and presented one at a time and there doesn't appear to be any particular order in which they're made. If you are at a restaurant with more than 3 people it is entirely likely that everyone will be finished eating by the time the last meal arrives. Although the Russian word for 'appetizer' literally translates to "first dish," they arrive whenever.

Last week we went to TGI Fridays. Everyone was craving familiar food and in tourist areas it's often more affordable to go to a chain restaurant, where prices are fixed. As per usual, when we tried speaking Russian they fetched a waiter who spoke English. We ordered "fried cheese" (fried mozerella) to start and a few minutes after the first meal was brought out, our waiter appeared with a cheeseburger. This was confusing both for us and for him because we had clarified that it was "to share." He had assumed that rather that, rather than ordering the fried cheese on the menu, we were unsure how to say "burger" (hint - it's also "burger" in Russian). He was very nice and apologetic and brought us each an ice cream sundae to make it up to us. These of course, arrived before the rest of our dinners.

3. General Hygiene

I'm gonna be judgmental about another culture here so feel free to stop reading. For those of you who live in countries with similar views on handwashing/ who have similar infrastructure I'm sorry. This is just a big adjustment for me.

One of the things that confuses me most is the concept of garbage here. There are garbage cans all over the streets, which perhaps is what makes it so odd that there are none in the home. Just a baggie the size of a ziploc bag that is kept open in the kitchen next to the food. They are more prevalent in public, specifically in public restrooms as you are expected to throw out used toilet paper into an open wastepaper basket. For your own sake, please do not try to imagine the smell of some of these places.

But that's not entirely new to me. I understand where that comes from because that's no one's fault. What gets me is the washing. I have NEVER seen anyone that I live with, nor any of the professors at school, wash their hands after using the restroom. Which would be fine if you kept your hands to yourself and never, ever touched anything. But there is no dishsoap in the apartment (just bleach). So my babushka fills the dishes with water (water that you can't drink because of parasites) and rubs them with her bare hands. Which are never, ever washed. And that's how the dishes are cleaned.

The other day I dropped a rouble into the cafeteria food and the lunch lady fished it out and served the dish to the kid behind me.

This is all me whining. St. Petersburg is an incredible city and I HAVE been having a lot of fun. I'm a little disappointed with the way that my classes have been working but I recognize that nothing is every how you expect it to be. Easily the best thing that I've done so far was going to the ballet at the Aleksandrinsky Theatre. It was so fun to get dressed up and go out. I can't describe how beautiful it was. I'm not an especially artsy person but it was incredible. I actually think I spent more time watching the orchestra than the dancers.

Random Observations about Russia:

The Russian way to discuss dogs barking is "Gaff-gaff," which I think is adorable.

The verb for "to bark" is "Gaffkat"

The other day I saw a dog wearing a velour track suit
People in Russia are always bringing people flowers. It's incredibly charming.

What's less charming is the amount of PDA - the escalator rides into the metro are really long and a lot of couples make the most of it.

You simply CANNOT find nachos in Russia.
There is a food here called сырок (pronounced seerick), which is "sweet curd cheese" coated in chocolate. It sounds disgusting but it's just like frozen, chocolate covered cheesecake. And it costs as little 12cents. And I'm gonna make a ton in Montreal and then tell people what it's made of so that they don't want any and I get to eat them all to myself.

I had to look up what was in them to describe them. I did not realize it was cheesecake. I may have to stop eating them every day...

Russians really like to talk about things that "all Russians do" and yet none of them every refer to the same thing.

Pictures!
Because this is what my mom wants.

The view from the bridge I cross on my way to school

I spent my birthday at the zoo with some very sad polar bears

Some of the attractions were pretty familiar

My bedroom

The piano in my room

My couch/bed

Russia should really be more careful about who they let play with their guns...

The hallway of our building

The Aleksandrinsky Theatre

Не Понимаю! (Aka, What Have I Done?)

2013-05-26T09:47:00.000-07:00

Temporary travel blog! I'm just going to update this once a week or so because I try to spend as much time as possible away from the apartment.

Here it is! I have officially been in St. Petersburg for one week. I waited a while to post anything because, despite the fact that I like to think of myself as an excellent traveller, I was not prepared for the culture shock. I thought that I should wait to write anything on my blog until I stopped trying to devise ways to get back to Canada.

I also thought that if I gave myself enough time to learn about everything that I was seeing I would be able to create a much more coherent blog but that doesn't appear to be possible so instead here's a jumbled description of my trip thus far.

I arrived last Saturday night and took the world's longest (4 hour) van ride around the city. I can't possibly describe how big Saint Petersburg is, or at list how big it feels. As a reference point, it takes about the same amount of time to ride for two stops on the metro here as it does to travel half a line in Montreal. And there are ALWAYS people on the metro. At first I thought that I was just being stupid and only riding it at peak hours but sure enough, there are always so many people riding the metro that you can barely move. The other day I took it at peak time and the metro came (I kid you not) 30 seconds after the previous one had left and it was still impossible to move because it was so packed full of people.

I am living in a pretty typical Russian apartment located just off of the Neva. Just like every other place that I seem to live, the actual city of St. Petersburg is on an island (I'm not staying on the island but I walk to it every day for school). I am staying with an older Russian woman and her adult son, Pavel. Also I just heard someone else move into the room next to me. My "babushka" speaks no English and is constantly frustrated by my inability to explain basic necessities to her. She asked me a million questions when I got in at 10pm on Saturday, after 24 hours of travel, and was not pleased by my confusion. It unfortunately made me very uncomfortable around her so it has been even harder to talk to her due to my anxiety. On my second or third day she asked whether I knew that my Russian was shamefully terrible (do not worry, I assured her that I did).

Now things are a little bit easier. On Wednesday I happened to fall in the shower trying to hang a towel and ripped a hole through the shower curtain. I was incredibly nervous and got upset because I was scared when I tried to explain so she blamed her son for it all. I eventually wrote her a note explaining what had happened and things have been a little better because I had time to sit down and think about what I was trying to say ("Oh! You do know Russian!").

Unfortunately, I can write Russian and figure out conjugations but I sound "shamefully bad" when I try to speak. When anyone tells me anything at a normal speed I freeze up, trying to picture the words written on paper. Because of my ability to write in Russian I did well on the placement test and somehow ended up in the advanced class. I like school much better now that I am in an easier class.

We get out of school early most days, though, and have Fridays off so we have done a lot of exploring. Many of the museums are free for tourists so we have been going to about two a day. Already I have been to the Hermitage, the Russian Museum (art), The Church of Our Saviour on Spilled Blood (the famous one), Saint Isaac's Cathedral, Dostoevsky House, and took an afternoon boat ride through the canals downtown. Pictures below but I ask for no judgement.

One of the strangest things about being here is how old everything feels. I always think of it as being a contrast of 'old' and 'new' architecture, so it's easy to forget how young everything is here. It is quite easy to wander through the Hermitage and gaze at all the 'ancient' furniture but the truth is that someone was actively living in the Winter Palace less than a century ago. We kept looking at the chandeliers and wandering who had to light all the candles but in truth, post-Tsar Russian is so young that the Hermitage already had electricity by the time it ceased to be a palace. Even the Church of Our Saviour on Spilled Blood, arguably the most iconic structure in St. Petersburg, was built in the 20th century.

A list of strange things I've seen so far:

A camel in a park
A LOT of people rollerblading
Many mullets (There will be a whole blog post just aout Russia's weird fashion)
More police than you can imagine

This might not be accurate. Even the ticket people at the metro wear uniforms that look as though they are army generals

A convoy of about 20 police car and 25 armoured vehicles escorting a few buses of soldiers (and surely someone else...)

Some strange things about Russia:

You can't drink the water here. And the cafeteria is super territorial about your trying to fill up your water bottle.
They charge you for EVERYTHING. Want sugar in your coffee? That's 30 cents. Ketchup? 30 cents. A bag? Same deal. Take a picture in a museum? $7 please!
There are NO GARBAGES in people's houses. Everyone has been squirrelling away trash. I no longer have a purse. Just a really nice garbage bag with a wallet in it.
The metro is about a km underground. You really realize how far that is when you accidentally get on the side of the escalator for walking and have to hike the whole kilometer up (yes, I know, I'm lazy).
Everyone wears pantyhose all the time.
There are no street signs anywhere, at least not where you would want them.

That's about all the news from here! I'm quite exhausted from all the walking. I walk about 2.5 km to school every day and we spend most of the afternoon walking around downtown. Which is good considering that the only things I've eaten seem to be potato-based foods wrapped in bread-based foods. Any time that you order something that would come with a pastry in Canada (think pie, quiche, dumpling, etc), they seem to substitute the layer of pastry here for a whole loaf of bread. Also, I'm yet to find milk that's less that 5-7%.

Here are some photos!

Tatlin - the only thing I remember from High Stalinist Culture

Onion Dome in Saint Isaac's Cathedral

Me and my new friend Vanya

Hallway in the Hermitage

Church of Our Saviour on Spilled Blood

Dostoevsky's desk!!

Church of Our Saviour on Spilled Blood

Did You Know There Was a Bombing in Iraq?

2013-04-16T19:46:00.000-07:00

Warning - probably offensive. That appears to be all that I use this for these days. Please note, not all of the people who posted about the Iraqi bombings yesterday posted in this way. Some of you are intelligent people who happen to read the news and are open to self-criticism. As long as you present it in that way, that's fine. Some people, however, are not.

I think there's a flaw in the way that we read news. Yesterday, as I'm sure everyone knows, there was a tragedy in Boston. Regardless of how you want to stack the numbers, at least 144 people have been treated for injuries ranging from broken bones to full on amputations. Three people died including an 8 year-old boy. The fact that there were only three deaths, however, does not make it any less tragic. At least in my opinion. But my opinion is not always the popular one.

(I really like the last one's implication that it's somehow better...)

It took a matter of hours for people to begin posting self-indulgent statuses on Facebook about the way that the media was focussing on the event. As many people may have known (or were informed about it thanks to Facebook) there was a series of bombings in Iraq yesterday. In other words, the world was pretty awful for a while.

So people naturally took to social media. I'm not going to include any image from my Facebook feed here because I actually know those people and would prefer not to be offensive. But around 3pm my newsfeed was covered in family and friends in the Boston area who were posting to let everyone know that they were alright. And I had a lot of friends posting links to sites to help track down loved ones. And I think that's awesome because when you look back at the last time there was any sort of highly publicized attack in the US it was pretty hard to find people. So thanks, Facebook, I think I've finally realized what you're good for.

But then around 6pm some people started reading the news. I like to think that they found the world news from clicking links on the sidebar when they were already reading about the Boston Marathon. Because I can't count the number of people who were outraged by the fact that the "Western Media" was covering the Boston Marathon but not the bombings in Iraq. Similarly, there were a number of accusations that people who were posting about the Boston bombings were uniformed because that was the tragedy on which they chose to focus. So a couple responses.

1) People tend to share news that is relevant to them. There are tragedies all over the world every single day and the only thing that differentiates the Facebook newsfeed from any others news site is that the only news you see is news that is perceived as being directly relevant to the people that you know.

2) The USA is very close to us. For students at McGill it is highly like that either they or one of their friends has some family living in Boston. And for the few who don't, it is simply a more frightening situation because it's close, it's similar and (regardless of how you feel about this) more relatable than a country in the Middle East in which we have no relatives or friends.

3) The Iraq bombings have been covered by Aljazeera English, BBC, CNN, CBC - Even Fox News covered it. So no, the "western media" was not ignoring this tragedy, you were.

What I wonder is whether any of the people who posted about how 'uninformed' people were for discussing the bombings in Boston were aware of the Iraqi bombings 3 days before (or were bombings only relevant when trying to prove a point about how informed you are?). Or the Afghan children killed in a US airstrike 4 days before that? Or are tragedies only relavent when they serve as a point of comparison to our own?

You don't get to criticize the news simply because you were shocked to discover that it exists. If your primary source for World News is your friends on Facebook and the activists that you follow on Twitter than you can't be stunned that you've received a pretty biased view of the world. But the awful "western media" has been covering the Syrian crisis since it began two years ago, covering the impact of the US invasion of Iraq for the last nine, the War in Afghanistan for eleven and half and that's only regarding issues that impact the US. Western media has been covering World News as long as there has been world news. So the fact that you were unaware of a bombing in Iraq yesterday is not a flaw in the news coverage, it's a flaw in the way that you read the news.

I don't mind people sharing news on Facebook. I'm the first to admit that I find out about a lot of current events thanks to my newsfeed. But I also read Aljazeera. And CBC. And BBC. Facebook is not the be-all end-all of what's happening in the world, just what's happening to the ones you love. And if you care about hearing news that extends beyond the reach of your family it's there. It's available. It takes two seconds to Google any major news site and be informed. And every time a person posts a status that says "Did you even know that there was a bombing in Iraq?" it makes you look ignorant because you're telling the world that, until you could make a Facebook status about it, you didn't.

But my thinking that one death, or two deaths, or three deaths is a tragedy does not make me ignorant. Mourning over the deaths of anyone caught unaware by a bomb does not demean the deaths of the 33 men and women in Iraq. It simply means that we react to the deaths which are near to us. And maybe that's a problem with the way we feel empathy but maybe it's not. Maybe it's just a wake-up call to the fact that some news stories shock us more than others. Or maybe it's a wake-up call that we need to be better about the way that we find our news. But regardless of what it is, a bombing in Boston or a bombing in Samarra, it's a tragedy. And playing the sympathy blame-game doesn't help.

Except in the Case of Rape...

2012-10-30T13:11:00.000-07:00

Warning: this is bound to upset some people.

I’m going to out on a limb here and say that I agree with Paul Ryan on something. When discussing whether or not rape survivors should have access to abortions he said that “the method of conception does not change the definition of life.” I recognize that his calling rape a ‘method of conception’ upset a lot of people, however while it is a horrific and unacceptable way for a woman to be impregnated the fact remains that rape can and sometimes does lead to pregnancy and I actually think that he worded it quite well. I’m quite bothered by the stance “I do not support abortion except in the case of rape.” If you are going to take a pro-life stance you have to accept it regardless of the way by which a woman became pregnant.

DISCLAIMERS:

1. I do not mean to trivialize the experience of rape survivors. I am pro-choice and I do not think that anyone who has not experienced sexual violence should have the ability to dictate what a rights a survivor does or does not have to their own body.

2. This is not in support of Todd Akin, I think that what he said was incredibly insensitive and, quite frankly, stupid.

3. I also think that Richard Mourdock’s comment that these pregnancies are God’s intention is an idiotic one. I refuse to accept a god that hands out bright-side babies to rape survivors.

4. I understand why people make a rape exception when dealing with abortion, I just don’t think you get to pick-and-choose when a right is a right.

I could go off about the logistical problems of rape exceptions. For instance, when a woman is raped by someone she knows and is initially too afraid to come forward until 6 weeks later when she discovers that she is pregnant, who has the authority to tell her whether or not her case is deemed a “legitimate rape?” But I’m not going to because this is an ideological issue and my point is merely about the problem with defining ‘life.’

Thomas Friedman ~~stole my idea~~ wrote an interesting article on what it means to be ‘pro-life’ and I think he hits the important and under-addressed part of the debate. You don’t get to be pro-life when it’s convenient.

I’m going to make a generalization here with the two main arguments about right-to-life. 1) Life begins at conception and life is precious so you can’t take this away and 2) The fetus is an innocent and no one has the right to decide to kill an innocent.

So here are the problems:

1) If you accept that life begins at conception (I’m not going to get into that, my personal opinion is that fetuses have tails and so I view them in the same light that I view sea monkeys…) and you believe that the right to it is precious, it does not change in the case of rape. That is because:

2) By stating that you are a pro-lifer you are stating that you think that the fetus’s right to life outweighs the mother’s body rights. I hope this does not come across in a judgmental voice, that is simply a fact. And if you hold the right to life above all else than you need to stand by that stance, not simply when it’s the easiest stance to take. The argument that annoys me the most is that a woman should not have access to an abortion because “she acted carelessly the fact that she acted stupidly should not detract from the value of the life of her child.” But if your stance is the fetus’s right to life stands regardless of the stupidity of the mother, it should also stand regardless of the stupidity of the father. If you want to say that it’s innocent and that it’s “not it’s fault” when a woman has pre-marital sex and gets pregnant, it’s also “not it’s fault” when a man is sexually abusive – the life is still a life by this definition.

To go to the extreme, I think that feminists should be thankful that these so-called ‘right-wing nut-jobs’ are speaking up because this is what the pro-choice movement is actually up against. Simply speaking, it comes down to a matter of belief. It’s the same reason I hate when people say “I don’t think that gay people should get married but civil unions are ok.” I don’t accept ‘the sanctity of marriage’ because it’s a way of hiding homophobia. Either you (are ignorant and) think that people who are gay are lesser than yourself, in which case there’s no reason to advocate for civil unions, or you accept that they are people (hint: they are) in which case their rights should be equal.

The only reason a man sitting in a room 3000 miles away should feel that he has any say in the body rights of a 16 year-old pregnant girl is if he has a deep-seated belief in the sanctity of the life of the fetus, in which case it really shouldn’t matter how it got there.

Say what you will but I really think you lose some validity when you stance is “pro-life…. Sometimes.”

The Man-Cold

2012-10-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

Today I present to you a sexist and entirely presumptuous hypothesis. The true difference between the genders lies not in anatomy, nor in taste of clothes and music, nor even in the fact that women are insanely over-emotional whereas men have no emotions at all.* Rather, the difference between men and women is most obvious in the way they handle illness. I introduce to you the man-cold.

* Citation needed

Now I was an only child. Because of this, my sick-days as a kid were dictated entirely by my parents and I had no brothers with whom to compare my own experiences of deathly illness (colds. This rant is entirely about colds). While I took off some afternoons in high school for dizzy spells, sick-days in general were not encouraged. I took a whole day and a half off when I got mono. So I think the biggest shock to me when I lived with guys in Rez was the amount of time they spent avoiding class.

When women get sick we get sick forever. For a week and a half we get up every day with aching sinuses, pain in our chests, coughs that wrack the body and noses that run from the time we wake up (the same time we would wake up if we were healthy) and the time we go to bed (see previous). It never occurs to us to take time off – we just hate bodies for twelve days while we go about our usual routine and hope our cold goes away.

When men get sick they lie in bed for five days and pity themselves. They don’t go to class, they don’t see friends, and for that five-day period any request or suggestion made to them is answered with a quick, “I can’t. I’m sick.”

Now I’m going to go ahead and call this a scientific fact. Dostoevsky suggested that just because a ghost appears only to a madman does not disprove the existence of the ghost, merely proves that ghosts visit madmen. By that logic, I’m going to say that just because no one’s done proper research on this fact does not mean that it’s not true. It just means science should take me more seriously.

This long pre-ramble was so it would make sense when I say to you that I spent the last week with a man-cold. Ordinarily I’d take the feminine route and cough all over people while saying, “I’m fine, I’m just sick.” Instead I spent most of the week pitying myself while drinking tea, avoiding class, and going to bed at an embarrassingly early hour (trust me, for me that’s while it’s still light out). And my God – Men, I think you’re onto something.

Seriously. I was sick for 4 days and while I hated every minute of them, I’m getting better. And it only took me 20 years to betray my gender and take a gentleman’s week off. With that in mind, I totally don’t know what guys are complaining about. I suggest that for the 2012 flu-season men and women should swap. Women stay home for a week with their illnesses, men continue to go about their lives as they otherwise* would and tell me at the end of it which is worse. I honestly believe that if you leave a give a woman a man-cold she’ll treat it like a vacation. If you give a man a woman-cold he’ll die.

* If you would just play video games all day this doesn’t count. I mean going out, buying groceries, doing your laundry, meeting your friends, going to class, writing a paper, creating a crisis, solving the crisis, AND being sick. You know – a typical woman day.

Long story short, I’ve been sick for a week. I have nothing exciting going on in my life which is why I haven’t updated my blog since coming back to McGill but I promise you I’m still alive (if barely) and passing school (barely). I’m going to attempt to get back to blogging but let’s be honest – when I’m not angry I have nothing to say.

Goodbye Silence!

2012-08-30T18:45:00.002-07:00

It's been a very long time since I've updated this. I'm not going to talk about my mood because that defeats the purpose of the update, I'm not going to talk about the music because I'm listening to Froshies yelling "OMG I love you sooooo much. We're like Best Friends now!"

I haven't updated this because for a while I saw no point in any of it. I realize that I let my blog descend into a pit of angry, pointless rants last year and I was more than willing to continue doing so but this summer changed a lot of things in my mind. I didn't update the world about what was going on because it was private but at the same time it made me recognize how trivial all the things I whine about on my blog were. So update:

I am back in Montreal. I let my slip into a funk last year of anti-social bitterness so NO MORE. I am changing roommates this Saturday (while continuing to live in the Hellmouth) and while I adore Grace, I think the change will be good for both of us. I didn't mean for that to sound nearly as much like a breakup.

I spent my summer at UVic and to be honest, it broke my heart. I did not at all enjoy my English class here at McGill last semester and I thought "Tough, it's university, that's what English is like now." But then I took a Shakespearian tragedies class at UVic and I really enjoyed it and I realized that it was what I had hoped English at McGill would be, hence my minor. But it's not and so now I have to go back to a minor that I don't really enjoy. At least I'm halfway through!

What time I didn't spend in class I spent working at Pepper's, the local grocery store, and if anything it made me realize how much better it was to work with lots of people.

The only other bit of news is that I finally finished the first draft of my book! I thought it would feel like a big accomplishment but no, it just made me realize how many more drafts it's going to take. But it's getting there!

I promise that in the future this will be less "Look at my life, look at me go!" and a lot more item-specific. For now, I will be hiding in my apartment, watching Sherlock and avoiding the freshmen (I'm sure I was equally obnoxious my first year but now I'm a bitter, old woman who likes to sleep. I'll meet you all when Frosh is over).

Montreal Springs

2012-05-23T18:59:00.000-07:00

WARNING: This is a piece that I wrote for a class. I think that I have said this enough that most people know but here goes the disclaimer. I AM NOT AGAINST people march against tuition hikes. The facts in here are all recycled, I know you've heard it a thousand times. This is not about people who choose to wear red squares or march for a cause. It is about the senseless rioting taking place in Montreal and about the fact that the media continuously refuses the cover the negative aspects of it. There are two sides to every story so this is another one. Again, this is a class project so mind the drama of it all - it's homework. The feeling of piercing your nose is an odd one. The pressure of the needle triggers your tear ducts and so before you even feel the pain, you begin to cry. The first time I was tear gassed was much the same. It wasn’t until after my eyes welled up that I felt the burning sensation in my nose and my throat. And that was just the first time. You could say that I have a tendency to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I don’t. I just live on the edge of an eruption. I go to school in Montreal and so for the past several months I have walked to school behind a parade of red felt squares, been yelled out of lecture halls, stood in the snow for 6 hours just for the right to attend classes that I’ve already paid for because I, like the ignored 2/3 of Quebec students, do not stand for the strike. Many in Canada are eager to show their support, despite the fact that even with the proposed hikes Quebec students will pay under $4000 and still be in the top three for cheapest provinces in which to go to school. “But it will lower enrolment!” Except that even with students paying nearly $7000 a year, Ontario still maintains the highest proportional University enrolment numbers. I understand why Quebec students are scared. Their tuition has been frozen for the better part of 40 years and the idea of matching inflation seems abrupt. So thank goodness reps of the student union CLASSE have their backs and are eagerly waiting to take upwards of 2 grand of tuition from every faculty in Quebec to fund the strikes. They call for free education but ironically demand a hefty sum from all student groups. To make matters worse, when the Quebec government was willing to negotiate the hikes they failed to show up for comment at the press conference to update students. Nothing says free education like a membership fee. But none of that is objectionable. It’s an opinion that students have the right to hold and although I won’t march with them I was pleased to see that nearly 400,000 people showed up to the last protest, an incredible accomplishment for the movement. But that’s hardly representative of the turn that the strikes have taken. On May 19th, Molotov cocktails were thrown at police on one of the busiest streets in Montreal. The news focused on the ‘peaceful demonstrations’ against Bill 78. On May 20th, more than 60 people were arrested for marching into the bar district on a crowded Saturday night and setting the streets ablaze. The newspapers spoke of a single incident of an innocent girl being handcuffed because she was drunkly shouting at police. I have watched my city erupt in flames in the early hours of the morning so often that the sounds of helicopters no longer register in my ears. But the media focuses instead on how unfair it is to prevent protesters from wearing masks. Where was the media the day that protesters in masks stormed a Montreal University and dragged females students out of the classroom? Montreal has had an alarming number of school shootings so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t think that masks are an appropriate thing to be worn by angry students wielding weapons. It’s just common sense. These measures were referred to as an ‘emergency bill’ because the province of Quebec is being destroyed by protest. Just last week, Aljazeera ran an article that discussed the violence taking place on the streets of Montreal. It was one of the first major news stories to take attention away from the cause and discuss the actions being taken by radicals in a way that addressed the real problems taking place. Quebec – you have every right to protest. But when the Middle East comments on your incredible level of violence, maybe it’s time to put the rioting to rest.

Kony 2012? The quickest fad to become passé

2012-03-07T18:14:00.001-08:00

It took less than 24 hours for KONY 2012 to leap from being the rally cry of anyone on the internet with a heart to a point of anger for bloggers and facebook users.
Background:
Kony 2012 is a documentary that was released for free on the internet detailing the infamous doings of Joseph Kony. It states that the US government is currently committed to helping the Ugandan Army track down Kony for his crimes but that the fear is that without constant support by the people, the government won't see a reason to continue support. The video, released by Invisible Children, says that on April 20th the whole world should be plastered with posters bearing Kony 2012 to raise awareness and make sure that everyone knows his name.

The flip side of this issue is the question of whether or not Invisible Children should be considered a reputable charity. The problem lies in the fact that only a reported 31% of the money spent by the organization goes towards charity programs. Furthermore, Invisible Children has refused to comment on whether or not the movement supports the capturing or actual killing of Joseph Kony. That's a pretty bare-bones explanation but it's a start.

My opinion (keep in mind, this is merely mine) is that people should stop criticizing the actual video. Yes, it was released by Invisible Children but whether or not you choose to support the organization is entire your decision. The movie is to raise awareness of one of the worst men alive and it's doing that, whether you like the viral campaign or not.

I was stunned to hear how many people had never heard of Kony before the video became a sensation. Here's a man who has been snatching children out of their beds in the middle of the night and forcing them to kill their own parents. This has been happening for 26 years and it saddens me that so many people had no idea that this was happening. I'll admit that even though I had heard plenty about the conflicts in Uganda and knew both who Kony is and what he is responsible for, I could not have told you until the video hit Facebook whether or not he was still alive and the problem was ongoing.

So go ahead - decide not to support Invisible Children. That's fine. But don't say that the spreading of a documentary to raise awareness about the atrocities in the world is a stupid thing to do. Regardless of who backs it, being informed about the world is never a stupid thing to do. And if you made the decision to support Invisible Children don't go back on it just because your Facebook friends think you should. Do your own research, make your own decision. If you think that this issue is important than spread it. If you don't, then don't. But don't make a market of turning children into soldiers about the organization who opened your eyes to it. As annoying as viral videos can be, it's sad to see people watch this video and boil it down to the pros and cons of a charity group.

General Rule of Thumb

2012-02-23T21:05:00.001-08:00

All-you-can-eat is a gimmick, not a challenge.
I'll start blogging again when the pain around my waistline goes away.

I spent a lovely night at all you can eat sushi (it's just cruel that they charge for the uneaten pieces) then went to see Montreal en lumiere. It was quite fun, all things considered - not the music festival that I had assumed it would be but I still wanted to ask all those parents what they were doing with their 6 year olds, surround by pot at 11pm on a Thursday. Ahhh Quebec. I do love you.

I went on a Ferris Wheel and my poor soon-to-be roommate discovered that I am not fun to be with at a great height in a bucket with seat belt or real door. But he handled it well. He'll be a nice addition to my ghetto apartment from Hell (seriously. Examples of my roommate wanted posters below).

I hope everyone's having a lovely end of February. Today I put on pants for pretty much the first time since Monday (it's now Thursday night) so I'm going to consider it a success. Lots of love from a very full student!

Why I Won't Occupy

2012-02-09T16:41:00.001-08:00

Mood: Unfocused
Music: Lights by Ellie Goulding, You Silly Git by Dan Mangan, Lady in White by Royal Wood, Chicago by Sufjan Stevens, King of Carrot Flowers Part 1 by Neutral Milk Hotel

EDIT: Since posting this McGill announced that they have food and water but the power has been cut. Does not change my opinion. Someone has taken ill and they have offered medical help but it has been refused. Now several people are coughing. I'm curious as to whether they are linked because IMHO you shouldn't refuse the medical attention if it puts the other protesters at risk.

It has been an incredibly long time since I last blogged. I am only doing it right now because I have a test to do, a midterm next week and a paper that I should be writing (or at least doing research for).

I am officially going to come out and say it: I'm sick of people Occupying things.
I had a little sympathy when it was cities and I understood the cause (though without a specific list of goals I don't know what good it would do).
I was annoyed when they occupied a building on campus last semester to demand the resignation of the Principal and an end to tuition hikes, mostly because I thought the anger was directed in the wrong place and with all the misinformation that was flying about there were too many under-informed people using it as a way to inconvenience others without understanding the big picture.
But this week QPIRG decided to occupy the James Administration building on campus and I'm just so fed up with it.

For those of you who don't attend McGill here's a little background - please keep in mind that this is only as much as I can piece together myself so it's a no more legitimate source of information than anything you hear about on campus.

There is a group at most universities here with a Public Interest Research Group (in our case, Quebec) and at McGill a part of our tuition (about $4) goes towards funding them. They spread the money across campus to various groups including the Sexual Assault Centre, projects to green Montreal and KANATA (whose goal is to raise issues facing First Nations peoples). On the other hand, there are multiple rumours that some of the projects they fund are extremely left-wing and a particular rumour based on the fact that someone speaking on behalf of QPIRG may or may not have expressed sympathy with hezbollah. For the past several years McGill has made the fee opt-outable so that students can decide not to give money to QPIRG if they so choose. It tends to get quite contentious as people actively go around campus pressuring students to deny QPIRG money while the students from QPIRG fight to keep it.

For two years now I have decided not to opt-out. I have no real opinion either way but I felt that with so many people choosing to opt-out I did not feel like denying the groups that I supported the funding (groups such as SACOMMS, I feel, deserve funding). Now back in the Fall semester there was a referendum because QPIRG and CKUT (the campus radio) wanted to remove the 'opt-out' option. The question posed to students was:

Do you support CKUT continuing as a recognized student activity supported by a fee of $4.00 per semester for full-time undergraduate students, which is not opt-outable on the Minerva online opt-out system but is directly refundable through CKUT, with the understanding that a majority “no” vote will result in the termination of all undergraduate funding to CKUT?

The McGill Office of the Deputy Provost is now claiming that the questions posed to the students were unfair as a student should have been allowed to support the continuation of the program without also supporting the mandatory fee, however the way it was worded suggested that otherwise the program would cease to be altogether. A recent e-mail sent to students states that the groups were informed that this was unacceptable wording prior to the referendum being held but that they chose to ignore it. Whether or not you believe this is up to you.

The motion passed and the administration is now refusing to uphold the decision because they apparently told the groups to change the wording and consider the outcome of the vote less than legitimate. Somewhat understandably the groups are annoyed and it has lead to a relapse in "6th Floor Occupiers."

I came across them the other day on campus and figured it would be done at the end of the day but instead the occupiers stayed. The next morning while I was in class two representatives from QPIRG and the McGill chapter came to speak to us about what was happening. They explained that they were holding "a surprise party" for the Provost (it included a cake) and that the students were being unfairly treated. The administration was denying them bathrooms so the students have been using buckets. They are not allowed food and water - a clear violation of human rights! And THEY CAN'T HAVE INTERNET!

Now this annoyed me for any number of reasons (and none of them, despite what my roommate thinks, is caused by their being vegan... or at least not much). First, the idea of the 'surprise party' is not cute - it's immature. If you actually want to hold a meaningful discussion with admin then present it that way - don't bring the provost balloons and a cake demanding his resignation. Furthermore, the internet? This is a school which kindly allows its students access to its free wi-fi. All the kids in there have their cell phones, turning of the McGill Wi-Fi is not a violation of their human rights. But finally there is the issue of food and beverages.

These students are not being held against their will. They made the decision to enter a SCHOOL BUILDING where people work every day and now they refuse to leave. The school will let them leave any time they want so long as they don't come back in. They are not being denied food and water - they are making the decision not to go and get it. The bathrooms? I'm stunned they're not being harassed about indecent exposure. People have to work in that building and you're pissing in buckets in their hallways. That is not the adequate way to go to the negotiation table.

If we had a fight and you came to my apartment uninvited and I didn't let you eat or drink or use my washroom you would probably eventually leave. If I turned off my internet you wouldn't have an basis to complain. No one would tell me that was cruel and unusual punishment. If you sat on my floor and started using buckets as toilets rather than leaving people would tell you that you were being immature and handling the situation badly.

I'm ready to get yelled at by the entire internet and I don't really care. This is my school, a place that I'm proud to attend, and I'm tired of seeing extreme methods of protest being used as an outlet to complain. Protests have a valid place in society but this is not civil rights, this isn't suffrage, this isn't the Vietnam War. Your sit-in is reminiscent of issues of the upmost importance to the progress of human rights and the idea that you would use it to host a 'surprise party' is shameful.

The Hunger Games!

2012-01-12T20:29:00.000-08:00

Ok. I admit it. I long resisted reading The Hunger Games for any number of reasons, not the least of which was because in the last few years I've done remarkably little reading for fun. Add to it the fact that, when described, the plot sounded uncomfortably like The Most Dangerous Game as well as a monologue that has which has creeped me out since about 7th grade when I was introduced to them both.
This semester my reading lists include (but are hardly limited to) Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment, Fathers and Sons, Hard Times (Dickens), and Pride and Prejudice. So the last thing I need to be doing right now is taking on extra books for reading.

But this afternoon a friend dropped off a copy of The Hunger Games. I put off reading it until I was done my homework, done reading my poems for English tomorrow, done another "4%" of Anna Karenina. I figured my eyes could stand no more than a chapter or two so at 8:30 I began reading.

IT WAS SO GOOD.
I have had no sleep this week so priority one should have been going to bed early but sadfdsafg it was well worth it. The girl who gave it to me said that apparently it's better not to read the second two books because it ruins things, but it's taking all the strength I can muster not to Wikipedia the plot.

All I'm saying is that I'm suddenly so excited for the movie.
Also - way better than The Most Dangerous Game (I don't care how good 'the original' is or how much I'm supposed to love Russian literature, some things need to stop being taught in schools).

Go read it.

So Long Outside World

2011-12-21T20:05:00.000-08:00

TL;DR - I'm leaving - no internet or phone for a week!

The term is finished, finals are done and I'm off to America! Today was my last day of exams and I must say, I'm a sorry excuse for a student. My poor roommate is currently shut in her room studying for what will be her 3rd exam in 36 hours - she had 5 midterms, 5 term papers and 5 finals. I started my finals on Monday (a strenuous day of Art of Listening) and concluded today with my only other exam (an open-book at that). That's not to say that I will do particularly well on either, due to my utter disinterest in all things finals-like by this point in December but still. Thus marks the end of the most useless reason to stay in Montreal two weeks after the end of term.

I spent today lounging about watching Torchwood (I forgot how good it used to be) and waiting for my laundry to finish. Doesn't sound like much but I discovered that our couch blanket is in fact a Snuggie so I'm going to consider today a success. Also, I'm going to question how it took us 4 months to realize our blanket has sleeves.

The real reason I'm posting this is just to say that I'm going to be relatively tech-free for the next week. I'm staying with my family in New Hampshire until the 28th and so I'm going to be avoiding facebook and my phone until I'm back in Victoria. This will either be a lovely escape from the world and all the stress of the past semester or I will have gone crazy by Friday. So don't be surprised if I've update my status by tomorrow.

In the meantime good luck to those still writing finals tomorrow morning (that means you Departmental Survery kids!). I hope everyone has a terrific holiday and is surrounded by family and pleasant interactions - see you in the New Year!

So Close and Yet So Far

2011-12-14T17:43:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in my bedroom eating chocolate, blogging, and listening to Simple Gifts. I've somehow convinced myself that this is legitimate studying for Art of Listening.

It is that time of year again! And by that I don't mean the holiday season, I mean the season of hiding in my room while pretending that Christmas isn't coming just so that I can focus on schoolwork. I haven't blogged in a long time and I don't know whether or not to feel bad about that. I went through a bit of a down period so I didn't want to be that emotional girl who was whining about her feelings on the internet. When I got back on track there was so much happening with McGill, MUNACA, student protests and the world in general that I felt like there was no safe way for me to weigh in without insulting anyone. Perhaps over break when I'm safely away from all the protest badges (those things have sharp backings!) I'll cowardly blog my opinions.

For now, this is just a chance to check in. My finals don't actually start until the 19th and so in the meantime I'm trying to convince myself to study. Today is the second day in a row that I've managed to not even put on a shirt and so it's safe to say that I've reached a new low. I don't know why Grace hasn't crawled away in horror but our dirty, stress-filled apartment remains home base for long procrastinated exam cramming sessions. Let me just say, I could never have anticipated just how little I would ever care about 'defining the parameters of the term 'modernity.''

So before I go, some highlights from the semester thus far! People keep telling me that I need to start a blog called S*** my Prof Says and I'm beginning to think they might be right.

1. My prof yelling at a boy who was talking in class 'You make me sick!'
2. My Art of Listening prof who is now INCLUDING ON THE EXAM Stalin's impact on music in the 1960s (I'm dangerously close to e-mailing him a link to Wikipedia...)
3. A discussion in Lit class on the "edible complex" (bake with your mother, eat your father?)
ANNNNDD
4. Cheesemaking.

Yes, that's correct. In anthropology we were learning about the different jobs you can get that qualify as 'anthropology.' The first woman interviewed in this video studied Haitian immigrants to the US and how societies in low-income groups function when faced with the difficulty of living on the margin of legality. Fair enough - I see how that's a group to study. Next, there was a man who studied oceanographers. I paused a little at that one but I get it - there's a group who is isolated for long periods of time, often in single-gender groups and whose traditions, eating habits, ceremonies and relationships all form based on their isolation. Again, valid.
The last person interviewed studied people who learn how to make cheese. We literally learned about people who learn about people who learn how to make cheese. How anyone comes to the conclusion that this is a special society worth dedicating a life of research to, I cannot fathom.
I'm beginning to think that the point of the video was just to teach us why not to just settle for a BA.

But none of this matteres because the term is almost done! I have an exam Monday, an exam Wednesday, then I board a Greyhound for the USA. My first White Christmas in many years and I look forward to it! I can't explain in words how excited I am to get out of Montreal (love it as I do) for a couple of weeks. I am beginning to despise the kids who post on Facebook things like 'heading out! Only 3 weeks at home =(." Cherish it! I would happily have avoided these electives if I knew that my exams wouldn't even start until the 19th this year.

So in parting I just want to say Merry Christmas to everyone and a happy holiday season. May your lawns be snow-covered and your driveways clear. To my family - only a week to go! I can't wait to see you and I swear I will deny being related to the first person who mentions anything about anthropology, modernity, African colonialism or any music created... ever.