Have you ever done something for someone else, something that would mean a lot to them even when under normal circumstances you would poke out your eyes first? This weekend, I did just that. You see, my dear friend Ryan, with whom in the early years of our friendship we agreed to never talk politics, was running for the Conservative nomination in Peterborough. Are you getting the idea of where I'm going with this? I do love Ryan and though, in the past couple of years, our relationship has sort of been a bit uneven he has surprised me in the past by doing something special for me. I, having recently gained plenty of political/election experience, was invited to be part of his team, should he win. And, of course, I was also invited out to support him, even though he knew very well that I couldn't and would not vote for him. However, for a day, I could be a plant in the audience offering uber-Ryan-Conservative-support.

And boy did I fool the best of them. I waved my sign. I screamed like a banshee. I did the Xena yell. I heckled. Wow, am I a good heckler. And wow, was there ever reason to heckle. His name is Wayne. McConnachie. And he is a fundamentalist ultra-right-winged christian fascist. I booed him when he called homosexuals a-moral and unnatural (lots of other people booed him, too), I heckled when he talked about being pro-life, and as soon as he was finished ranting (or rather when he ran out of time) I began a huge Ryan chant. I rocked. Anyway, in the end, age won out and Ryan was beaten by James Jackson. It's Peterborough, afterall. A twenty-seven-year-old youngin' has very little chance of beating out a fifty-something man who's lived and been active in the community for decades. Sure, Ryan knew his policy and had real political experience, but we are talking about a place I used to call "Raisinville". Ryan made an excellent showing and proving himself to the Conservative voters. He'll win it next time. In the meantime, he's got four years to work on policy development where he can effect real change.

In celebration of the event, regardless of his loss, a bunch of us went out for drinks and dancing at Reiley's, a pseudo-Irish pub along the main drag. Next door/upstairs was the Junction, a dance club. In the end, only Ryan, his friend Kyle, Tanya and myself went dancing. I have to tell you, the Junction had to be one of the worst dance club experiences I've ever had. I did end up having fun, but it took a lot of effort because the music was awful. It was mostly the worst of mainstream hiphop with some limited dance music thrown in. I have never seen so many cookie-cutter people in one place, either. You haven't seen anything until you've seen hundreds of bland white people shuffling to hiphop, everyone wearing the same clothes, with the same hair, and the same type of dancing. Sure, there were exceptions, but in general, it was pretty sad. Lame, even. And the smoking - YUCK ! We'd thought that Peterborough has gone non-smoking, but it seems they don't actually follow the rules. There was bad ventilation and no fans so the dancefloor was a smokey, sweaty meat-grinder. Ryan got me doing some Mambo, which was a lot of fun, and it kept me at the club an additional twenty minutes, but honestly, after an hour and a half upstairs, I was done.

At one point, Tanya remarked, "You know, I don't know any of these people. I'd expect to see some faces that I recognise." My answer, "Tanya, everyone we know here is at home with babies." Sad, but essentially true. Next time, we'll go to the Trasheteria, at least the music is fun.

So, on a completely unrelated note, I had my first day of working in Education today. I was very nervous going in. I spent my ride on the Dufferin bus thinking about what I'd talk about in the Gold Room. As we prepped in the Studio before the classes arrived, everyone with their morning drink of choice in hand, I started to get nervous. Waiting in the Gold Room was nerve-wracking. I could hear the first class coming through and we (the other interpreters and myself) were milling around and chatting anxiously as we heard the tour coming closer and closer. Finally, the first class arrived at the station before mine and I knew it was showtime. Joe handed off to me and I started. Unfortunately, the first class through was a very unengaged class of grade nine art students - the ones who are taking it only because it's required for them to graduate. Things picked up from then on, however; the other classes being made up of ten and eleven year olds. The grade fives had great questions and with the exception of one unruly group, were very easy to control and talk to. At about a quarter to eleven in the morning, I suddenly realised that I was having fun ! And then it was over. We all went back to the Studio to debrief and sort out the bugs, but it seems that we all did a great job. Considering there was one unscheduled group of forty students, meaning we had to marshal nearly four-hundred kids in two hours, that's pretty amazing. I'm really looking forward to Wednesday when I'm back in.

I also picked up my schedule for Visitor Services. I thought that I might have some time off during March Break in order to visit my mother for her birthday and whatnot, but I only have two nights off. I'll go out to see her on those two days, I guess, but that isn't what I'd hoped for. Oh well. I've also learned something very important about VS. They actually do their schedules in advance, so if I want a vacation, I have to book in advance. Well, in advance, actually. Something else I have learned, I am not going to suffer a lack of hours over the next few months. Hooray ! It's all so very exciting.