Before I settle down to play some Baldur's Gate 2 on this quiet Friday evening, I thought I had better relate some of the interesting events of the past week. If I don't do it now, I might never do it. Of course, this time last week, I was at Anime North. Normally, when I go to conventions it is as a vendor working for Nicole and as an artist. I have to say that it's really nice to get away from that once in a while and just attend a convention for the sake of attending. Anime isn't my principle fandom, as most of you will know, but I have enjoyed it for years and I love seeing all those people dressed up as characters. Some of the costumes display the most amazing creativity even if they don't entirely succeed.
It all began with the rather lengthy bus ride out to the Airport. Somewhat inconveniently, because the old venue was condemned, this year's convention was held at two locations: the Toronto Congress Centre and the Renaissance Hotel. I have to admit, I didn't even make it to the hotel. The things I was most interested in were occuring at the Congress Centre, including the art show, Artists' Alley (where all the artists do commissions and sell stuff), the Dealers' Room, Masquerade, and workshops and participatory programming. One highlight was attending the traditional Japanese art workshop held by Nobuyuki Ohnishi. His prefered style of art is the traditional monochromatic (single colour) ink wash technique called sumi-e. He talked about the differences between Eastern art and Western art and gave a demonstration to illustrate these differences and then we went and examined his artwork that he had on display in the art room. His English was a little fractured and the noise level in the main hall of the Congress Centre made it very hard to hear what he was saying, but we (his keen little students) got the hang of what he was saying. And, of course, he took photos of us and we took photos of him.
On the Saturday, I met up with Techknight and we spent most of the day wandering around the Congress Centre enjoying the myriad of costumes and all the other sights and sounds that an anime convention affords. You can read his highlights here as they sum up the Masquerade very nicely. I didn't spend too much money on anything, a fact that I am fairly proud of. I had wanted to pick up some of the Copic markers, but they're just too expensive for a trial run. I'll ask for them at Christmas, or something, so that a whole lot of people can chip in to purchase them. They're really friggin' expensive. I did buy some art of a fellow Elfwood artist and a pair of chopsticks that are simply too nice for my mother to tie plants to, though I'm sure she would, given the chance. I also picked up the OCAD student comic compilation from two students involved in its creation, development and publication and one cheap print. That's one of my favourite things to do, chat with the artists.
In other news, I helped my friend Megan move on Sunday. That was a somewhat painful experience as the building she was moving out of is NOT WELL DESIGNED. It's awful. At one point I was wandering around the fourth and fifth floors with a pair of handtrucks for what seemed like hours, trying to find the elevator that would take me down to the lobby. Opportunity provided us with a rope that enabled us to tie her mattress and boxspring to the van and though some might call taking it 'stealing' it was made up for by the fact that of all Megan's friends, I was the only one to show up after promising to help.
Otherwise, the week has pretty well flown by. There is only one more week of Eternal Egypt and I realise that when it's over, I'm going to miss working as a schoolgroup educator desperately ! I might not have believed it at the start, but I have derived so much satisfaction from this job that I wish it would go on forever. I've developed a bond with many of my co-workers and I will endeavour to stay in touch with them. I've even bonded to several of the pieces in the exhibition. One day, I will have to go to the British Museum to visit them again. Senwosret and "Monty", the beautiful bald priest, little Princess Nefurure on her tutor's knee, and of course all those wacky kings at the end of the 18th Dynasty. I went into the exhibit thinking I knew a pretty fair amount about Egypt, but now, coming out at the other end, I realise I know much more than ever before, and I've only bumped the tip of the iceberg.
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Democrats Abroad was a really neat experience. Firstly, let me say that these people are a very interesting mix. There were some who had been here for a long time and had held fast to their American roots, their accents remaining intact after years of living in the Toronto area. There were others who had allowed for the "silent take-over", the passive acceptance that Canada would rub off on them. One couple had been here for thirty five years and too look at them you would never guess that they were from south of the border. They dressed in muted colours, in low-key styles - very North Toronto/Lawrence Park. They had even been granted dual citizenship, but there remained that little part of them that wasn't ready to relinquish their roots, thus they continued to vote in US elections with no intention of ever moving back. There were people who had arrived for work in Canada, people who's families had moved (like me), people who had dodged the draft... it was, like I said, an interesting group of people and generally, well spoken and intellectual. Neat. It was a fun time and I'll certainly go back in June.
Also, my application for an absentee ballot has been filled out, stamped and is sitting beneath the Rentwraith in the hall. I had meant to mail it yesterday, and then today, but oversleeping both days can really put a cramp in ones intentions - especially when one is scrambling out of bed at the approximate time one should be booting up and heading out the door. *ahem* It was so bad today that I had to waste money on a taxi.
In order that I will wake up tomorrow nice and refreshed (and on time), I did not go home after work for a nap. I knew that no matter what else I did, I would end up napping and that would keep me up much too late into the night. No good. So, having walked down Philosphers' Walk behind the ROM and through UofT to Spadina, with no further plan in my head, I hopped on the streetcar and rode down to Queen Street. At this point, I turned east and climbed the stairs up to my friend Nicole's store. Here, I was offered a chair and conversation, and no place to nod off, was taken on a mini-adventure running errands with Nicole, came back, chatted more, and then went for nachos. And, in scant moments, I will make my way home.
Also, my application for an absentee ballot has been filled out, stamped and is sitting beneath the Rentwraith in the hall. I had meant to mail it yesterday, and then today, but oversleeping both days can really put a cramp in ones intentions - especially when one is scrambling out of bed at the approximate time one should be booting up and heading out the door. *ahem* It was so bad today that I had to waste money on a taxi.
In order that I will wake up tomorrow nice and refreshed (and on time), I did not go home after work for a nap. I knew that no matter what else I did, I would end up napping and that would keep me up much too late into the night. No good. So, having walked down Philosphers' Walk behind the ROM and through UofT to Spadina, with no further plan in my head, I hopped on the streetcar and rode down to Queen Street. At this point, I turned east and climbed the stairs up to my friend Nicole's store. Here, I was offered a chair and conversation, and no place to nod off, was taken on a mini-adventure running errands with Nicole, came back, chatted more, and then went for nachos. And, in scant moments, I will make my way home.
Sunday, May 16, 2004
It is a long afternoon to spend alone in the Visitor Services office at the ROM. I've been finished work for just over an hour and with another hour to go before the museum closes, I'm guaranteed a nice dull time. Why am I sitting around? I could go outside, granted, as it's a very nice day, but somehow it's just easier to kill time here. I'm waiting for the hour of 7:30 to arrive when I will then head to the Duke of York a block from here. There's a meeting for the Democrats Abroad - a pub night, to be precise - and I decided that it would be good to attend. You see, earlier this week, I signed myself up.
Yes, that's right, I'm in the process of filling out my request for a ballot so that I can progressively have a hand in hopefully ousting the Shrub, aka. Bush. I've taken to calling him The Shrub because shrubs are like trees only they never become majestic, instead they are stunted and serve to fill space. And that's what I feel George W. is busy doing: taking up space. I want him and his cronies out of office. He didn't deserve to be there in the first place and now is the time to get him out.
Anyway, I phoned Democrats Abroad because I couldn't figure out how to register my vote and I spoke with a lovely man (whom I'll meet tonight, presumably, and have been warned by someone who knows him that he's a little, um, bombastic) who was more than helpful.
"I am calling because I'd really like to vote in the next election but I don't know how to register."
"And am I to presume that you'll be voting Democrat?"
"That's the idea, yes."
"Good, I was just checking, I'd hate for you to be a misguided Republican..." He paused and chuckled.
"They would have to be if they're planning to vote for Bush." I hoped he was making a joke and filled in what I believed to be the answer. Not knowing for sure, he might have just been one of those gigglers who can't seem to finish a thought without giggling or chuckling, whether it was funny or not.
"Exactly !"
Phew. Well, he was indeed helpful and I have spent the better part of three breaks sorting through the links and information he directed me to. There is a lot of information out there and it's a bit confusing. I sent an email to my mother asking her to dig out the address of our house in Brooklyn, as that's my last US residence. Heh, I was nearly six years old when we moved. Twenty years in Canada, but I can still vote in the country of my birth. Hopefully, she will be able to track it down and I can get on this quickly. I want the ball rolling as I was warned that New York got its ballots out late last time around.
In the meantime, I'm sitting around in the office, frittering time away. I'm trying to do some cartoons based on my friend Kelly's crazy little cadence. She posted it in her livejournal and it would make a great clapping or skipping song. It's kind of dark, but it makes me think of the Lizzie Borden rhyme
even though the rhythm is quite different. I'm going to try to cartoon the whole thing and maybe turn it into a mini graphic novel when I've worked out all the ideas. I've signed myself up for the Art By The Inch competition.
Based on the idea of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and its goal to have everyone write a 50000 word novel, this competition is designed to get artists of all types producing 10000 square inches of art. There are three levels: gold at 10000", silver at 5000", and bronze at 2500". I'm afraid I'm aiming for the bronze catagory. I just don't think I have it in me to produce more than that. Of course, if I go over my goal, that's not so bad, either, but if I have no goal whatsoever, it wouldn't be any more than what I'm usually doing. Besides, since the weather got nice, I haven't touched my sketchbook (with the exception of the painted Mothers' Day postcard I sent my mom).
I suspect I'll do a bunch of other things, too, in order to fill up space. I'm considering doing some larger painted works with broad brushes to blast me out of my miniaturist attention to detail storybook illustration rut. It won't matter if the works come out nicely or not, the idea is to stretch myself. I've never undertaken such a project before, so we'll see how it goes.
Yes, that's right, I'm in the process of filling out my request for a ballot so that I can progressively have a hand in hopefully ousting the Shrub, aka. Bush. I've taken to calling him The Shrub because shrubs are like trees only they never become majestic, instead they are stunted and serve to fill space. And that's what I feel George W. is busy doing: taking up space. I want him and his cronies out of office. He didn't deserve to be there in the first place and now is the time to get him out.
Anyway, I phoned Democrats Abroad because I couldn't figure out how to register my vote and I spoke with a lovely man (whom I'll meet tonight, presumably, and have been warned by someone who knows him that he's a little, um, bombastic) who was more than helpful.
"I am calling because I'd really like to vote in the next election but I don't know how to register."
"And am I to presume that you'll be voting Democrat?"
"That's the idea, yes."
"Good, I was just checking, I'd hate for you to be a misguided Republican..." He paused and chuckled.
"They would have to be if they're planning to vote for Bush." I hoped he was making a joke and filled in what I believed to be the answer. Not knowing for sure, he might have just been one of those gigglers who can't seem to finish a thought without giggling or chuckling, whether it was funny or not.
"Exactly !"
Phew. Well, he was indeed helpful and I have spent the better part of three breaks sorting through the links and information he directed me to. There is a lot of information out there and it's a bit confusing. I sent an email to my mother asking her to dig out the address of our house in Brooklyn, as that's my last US residence. Heh, I was nearly six years old when we moved. Twenty years in Canada, but I can still vote in the country of my birth. Hopefully, she will be able to track it down and I can get on this quickly. I want the ball rolling as I was warned that New York got its ballots out late last time around.
In the meantime, I'm sitting around in the office, frittering time away. I'm trying to do some cartoons based on my friend Kelly's crazy little cadence. She posted it in her livejournal and it would make a great clapping or skipping song. It's kind of dark, but it makes me think of the Lizzie Borden rhyme
Lizzie Borden took an ax
and gave her mother forty whacks.
When she saw what she had done
she gave her father forty-one.
even though the rhythm is quite different. I'm going to try to cartoon the whole thing and maybe turn it into a mini graphic novel when I've worked out all the ideas. I've signed myself up for the Art By The Inch competition.
Based on the idea of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and its goal to have everyone write a 50000 word novel, this competition is designed to get artists of all types producing 10000 square inches of art. There are three levels: gold at 10000", silver at 5000", and bronze at 2500". I'm afraid I'm aiming for the bronze catagory. I just don't think I have it in me to produce more than that. Of course, if I go over my goal, that's not so bad, either, but if I have no goal whatsoever, it wouldn't be any more than what I'm usually doing. Besides, since the weather got nice, I haven't touched my sketchbook (with the exception of the painted Mothers' Day postcard I sent my mom).
I suspect I'll do a bunch of other things, too, in order to fill up space. I'm considering doing some larger painted works with broad brushes to blast me out of my miniaturist attention to detail storybook illustration rut. It won't matter if the works come out nicely or not, the idea is to stretch myself. I've never undertaken such a project before, so we'll see how it goes.
Friday, May 14, 2004
Nominate The Greatest Canadian! Think of the one person you feel deserves to be named The Greatest Canadian. Submit your nomination at www.cbc.ca/greatest, or call our toll-free phone line at 1-866-303-VOTE (8683). You can make one nomination per address, so make it count. Be sure to send us your pick by May 16, when the nomination period closes.
Okay, I'll post in my own words soon, I promise. Really, I will. I have stuff to say, I'm just being lazy.
Okay, I'll post in my own words soon, I promise. Really, I will. I have stuff to say, I'm just being lazy.
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
In many cultures, the arrival of spring is heralded by celebrations of fertility and the sewing of seeds. While I did not engage in Beltane or May Day activities, I have been busily planting my terrace garden. It is looking very pretty now. One box contains a couple of ivy varieties and a pair of magenta geraniums. Another contains some attractive veregated something-or-others and parsley seeds that will hopefully germinate. In another box I planted some two dwarf lavendar plants and impatiens. Finally, I have two planters with geraniums and impatiens (pink and white). I once vowed never to plant geraniums because esthetically speaking I don't love them, but I have realised that they're nearly impossible to kill, which is good, because I can be a little eratic with the watering. So, in my own way, I have celebrated the arrival of spring, too.
The trees have started to leaf, they're either all budding or sprouting and flowering. It happens all at once; suddenly the world is green. The light green leaves of spring are my favourite, and I enjoy the blooms raining petals on the street. I happened to be walking late last night, returning from my friend's house, and it was drizzling but quite warm, and the air was heady with the smell of blossoms. I have often wondered why flower scents become so much more pungent at night. The walk home was really nice, though; with no one out and about everything was peaceful.
Knowing that I'm going to be moving to Peterborough in September, I'm really taking advantage of Toronto while I can. I do love this city for all it's superficiality. I even enjoy the ambient noise, though not so much the smog. Besides, Peterborough has air just as bad as Toronto. I like that there's always something to do. I like that there are so many funky people (and I mean that in every possible sense of the word) walking around. I love how multicultural Toronto is and the way the neighbourhoods bleed into each other.
On the other hand, in Peterborough I can ride horses again. THAT will be wonderful. I miss horses and being part of the horsey community, even as a fringe member. I even (or should that be 'especially'?) miss smelling of horses. Long ago, my leather jacket stopped smelling, even in the rain. It's a strange thing to miss, perhaps, but when it's part of your life for years and then it's gone, it leaves a void. Another good thing about going to Peterborough will be living rent-free with my mother. Some people, going into their late 20s, resent having to move home again. And how do I feel about it? I think it sounds super. I adore my mother and she's become my closest friend. We seldom fight and though sometimes the teasing gets biting, our relationship is really great. And it will be so much easier having laundry facilities in the same place as my bed.
Tonight, there will be barbeque ! Stew came into my room yesterday and subtly hinted his desire for steak. "You know, this weather makes me think barbeque..." My answer went something like this: "Yes, Stew, I will bbq tomorrow. I'm not going food shopping today." He bounced with excitement. I am Queen Barbeque, you see. And, tomorrow, I'm going up to A&C's to check on the plants, etc., as they're in Chicago. They'll be back on Friday, but tomorrow is the first chance I have to make sure things are okay.
C'est tout.
The trees have started to leaf, they're either all budding or sprouting and flowering. It happens all at once; suddenly the world is green. The light green leaves of spring are my favourite, and I enjoy the blooms raining petals on the street. I happened to be walking late last night, returning from my friend's house, and it was drizzling but quite warm, and the air was heady with the smell of blossoms. I have often wondered why flower scents become so much more pungent at night. The walk home was really nice, though; with no one out and about everything was peaceful.
Knowing that I'm going to be moving to Peterborough in September, I'm really taking advantage of Toronto while I can. I do love this city for all it's superficiality. I even enjoy the ambient noise, though not so much the smog. Besides, Peterborough has air just as bad as Toronto. I like that there's always something to do. I like that there are so many funky people (and I mean that in every possible sense of the word) walking around. I love how multicultural Toronto is and the way the neighbourhoods bleed into each other.
On the other hand, in Peterborough I can ride horses again. THAT will be wonderful. I miss horses and being part of the horsey community, even as a fringe member. I even (or should that be 'especially'?) miss smelling of horses. Long ago, my leather jacket stopped smelling, even in the rain. It's a strange thing to miss, perhaps, but when it's part of your life for years and then it's gone, it leaves a void. Another good thing about going to Peterborough will be living rent-free with my mother. Some people, going into their late 20s, resent having to move home again. And how do I feel about it? I think it sounds super. I adore my mother and she's become my closest friend. We seldom fight and though sometimes the teasing gets biting, our relationship is really great. And it will be so much easier having laundry facilities in the same place as my bed.
Tonight, there will be barbeque ! Stew came into my room yesterday and subtly hinted his desire for steak. "You know, this weather makes me think barbeque..." My answer went something like this: "Yes, Stew, I will bbq tomorrow. I'm not going food shopping today." He bounced with excitement. I am Queen Barbeque, you see. And, tomorrow, I'm going up to A&C's to check on the plants, etc., as they're in Chicago. They'll be back on Friday, but tomorrow is the first chance I have to make sure things are okay.
C'est tout.
Monday, May 03, 2004
Aside from Willi bathing me again (this time without blood and rubbing alcohol) I thought I'd talk about hanging out with an old friend with whom I thought I'd lost touch.
Many separations, many months of denying each other due to our own personal problems, attitudes, weaknesses, passed and today I know that regardless of what might keep us apart, Megan and I will always be able to come together once more. I had great fears for our relationship when I reached out to contact her a couple of weeks ago, and it felt awkward at first, but we got over it and danced and had fun. But today, there were no flashing lights, no black-light ornaments, no DJs or other bodies getting in the way. Today, it was just us.
Megs met me at the ROM after work and a union meeting and from there we walked through the UofT campus, down St. George, to Queen. We talked about life and our losses and gains. We talked of our plans, hopes and desires. We touched on the hurt and the fears. We wandered in and out of shops, mocking the stupid shoes and their spikey heels, drooling over Fluevogs, drooling on the Fluevogs... We played dress-up in corsets and velvet and strange panteloons. And we talked and talked and talked.
The most amazing moment came as we were walking along Queen to Bathurst. Bumping into each other as we walked, like we're always on a five stride intersect course.
Not saying anything.
We just walked, bumped into each other, and relished the presence of the other without needing to say a word. I knew right then that there was no need to say anything, only to be together. Good friends. It was really nice and deeper by far than any conversation we could have been having. I am glad that Megan is back in my life. I didn't see until today that without her there had been a piece missing from my life.
Ya. And we got stopped for a streeter about the smoking ban that will be coming into effect in the bars of Toronto. Neat.
Many separations, many months of denying each other due to our own personal problems, attitudes, weaknesses, passed and today I know that regardless of what might keep us apart, Megan and I will always be able to come together once more. I had great fears for our relationship when I reached out to contact her a couple of weeks ago, and it felt awkward at first, but we got over it and danced and had fun. But today, there were no flashing lights, no black-light ornaments, no DJs or other bodies getting in the way. Today, it was just us.
Megs met me at the ROM after work and a union meeting and from there we walked through the UofT campus, down St. George, to Queen. We talked about life and our losses and gains. We talked of our plans, hopes and desires. We touched on the hurt and the fears. We wandered in and out of shops, mocking the stupid shoes and their spikey heels, drooling over Fluevogs, drooling on the Fluevogs... We played dress-up in corsets and velvet and strange panteloons. And we talked and talked and talked.
The most amazing moment came as we were walking along Queen to Bathurst. Bumping into each other as we walked, like we're always on a five stride intersect course.
Not saying anything.
We just walked, bumped into each other, and relished the presence of the other without needing to say a word. I knew right then that there was no need to say anything, only to be together. Good friends. It was really nice and deeper by far than any conversation we could have been having. I am glad that Megan is back in my life. I didn't see until today that without her there had been a piece missing from my life.
Ya. And we got stopped for a streeter about the smoking ban that will be coming into effect in the bars of Toronto. Neat.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Sometimes, Willi (aka Stinky Bee) thinks I'm dirty and require a bath. Kitty style. Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting at my desk, checking my email, when I decided to give her chin a tickle. She clearly felt my fingers were filthy and started to lick them.
Unfortunately, this stimulated her mothering needs and within only a few seconds, she had climbed up onto my shoulder and started licking my ear and hair. She hunkered down and held on when I tried to remove her from my back. Getting quite whipped up by all this (unwanted, on my part) bathing, she started to lick my face and when I pulled my head away, she swivelled around and bit my chin. Yes, she BIT me on my CHIN.
And it hurt. I have rosacea and a while back, a flare-up on my chin got infected. It's finally healing after more than a month (it looks kind of like a cold sore - eeeww), but it is slow going because it splits when I smile, yawn, or laugh. And now, her tooth just cut through it. Yuck and ouch !
Her removal from my back was immediate and involved her flying through the air and me running in the opposite direction to break out the rubbing alcohol. I'm pretty sure Willi thought she was just acting like a mother cat with a disobedient kitten, but holy crap it hurt. And it bled.
Yes, I know that dog-people will simply add this to their fodder as to why cats are 'bad' but I say to them: "Yeah, at times like this, sometimes even I wonder why I like them."
In other news (you know, I write that quite regularly in my weblog), I had a very good day at the ROM today. I love working as an Eternal Egypt educator and I think I do a darn good job. Today I was in a room I'd never done before but have wanted to do since the very beginning. It was a little rough for the first two groups, as I hadn't settled on a spiel, yet, but my excuse to them was that I had a sore throat and wasn't feeling too good. This is not, in fact, a lie. I do have a sore throat and it was worse this morning.
Most of the school groups were quite easy to engage, even the highschool kids. I had one teacher of an art class, probably in her 40s, but quite hip and enthusiastic, totally re-evaluate the way she had been teaching the Egyptian period to her kids, in part because of the stuff I talked about. She said to me afterward, "I had always thought that Egyptian art progressed from the beginning through to the end in a linnear fashion. Now I see that this is not actually the case." This little bit of question and answer made me feel not only smart and cool, but gave me one of those rare moments when I realised that my degree was not entirely a waste and I really DID learn something at school.
Our conversation went like this (Warning: Art-nerd alert):
"Unfortunately, Egyptian art is anything but linear. Sure, the tools improved, which allowed for more risk-taking and, yes there was a standardised 'look' that was developed over time, but they spent a lot of time looking back at what came before."
"So I really need to take another look at how to teach this."
"Well, the idea that all things progressed in a straight line is more and more out-dated. If anything, this exhibit proves it."
"How often did they archaise [use older styles]?"
"A lot. During this period, the 12th Dynasty, the headdress of the Old Kingdom came back into vogue, at least in art, as did the figural style, but at the same time they were experimenting with portrait styles and studies from life. You'll see this sort archaism again in the Late Period when Egypt was ruled by foreign kings and they were looking to reclaim their strength through the visual identity of the much earlier past."
"What about the period of naturalising that took place in the New Kingdom?"
"The Amarna period?"
"Yes, Amarna, didn't that change their art?"
"Well, you'll see that later in the exhibition, and I can't take much more time now 'cause the next group is here, but you'll see that for all it's changes, and apparent progressiveness, it was so identified with the negative aspects of the king that by 100 years later, you would never know it had existed. You'll see the remarkable shift back to static sculpture that comes with Rameses the Great."
"I had no idea how complicated their art really was. It was never my specialty, but it is really fascinating and I think I'll take a closer look at it over the summer."
Unfortunately, this stimulated her mothering needs and within only a few seconds, she had climbed up onto my shoulder and started licking my ear and hair. She hunkered down and held on when I tried to remove her from my back. Getting quite whipped up by all this (unwanted, on my part) bathing, she started to lick my face and when I pulled my head away, she swivelled around and bit my chin. Yes, she BIT me on my CHIN.
And it hurt. I have rosacea and a while back, a flare-up on my chin got infected. It's finally healing after more than a month (it looks kind of like a cold sore - eeeww), but it is slow going because it splits when I smile, yawn, or laugh. And now, her tooth just cut through it. Yuck and ouch !
Her removal from my back was immediate and involved her flying through the air and me running in the opposite direction to break out the rubbing alcohol. I'm pretty sure Willi thought she was just acting like a mother cat with a disobedient kitten, but holy crap it hurt. And it bled.
Yes, I know that dog-people will simply add this to their fodder as to why cats are 'bad' but I say to them: "Yeah, at times like this, sometimes even I wonder why I like them."
In other news (you know, I write that quite regularly in my weblog), I had a very good day at the ROM today. I love working as an Eternal Egypt educator and I think I do a darn good job. Today I was in a room I'd never done before but have wanted to do since the very beginning. It was a little rough for the first two groups, as I hadn't settled on a spiel, yet, but my excuse to them was that I had a sore throat and wasn't feeling too good. This is not, in fact, a lie. I do have a sore throat and it was worse this morning.
Most of the school groups were quite easy to engage, even the highschool kids. I had one teacher of an art class, probably in her 40s, but quite hip and enthusiastic, totally re-evaluate the way she had been teaching the Egyptian period to her kids, in part because of the stuff I talked about. She said to me afterward, "I had always thought that Egyptian art progressed from the beginning through to the end in a linnear fashion. Now I see that this is not actually the case." This little bit of question and answer made me feel not only smart and cool, but gave me one of those rare moments when I realised that my degree was not entirely a waste and I really DID learn something at school.
Our conversation went like this (Warning: Art-nerd alert):
"Unfortunately, Egyptian art is anything but linear. Sure, the tools improved, which allowed for more risk-taking and, yes there was a standardised 'look' that was developed over time, but they spent a lot of time looking back at what came before."
"So I really need to take another look at how to teach this."
"Well, the idea that all things progressed in a straight line is more and more out-dated. If anything, this exhibit proves it."
"How often did they archaise [use older styles]?"
"A lot. During this period, the 12th Dynasty, the headdress of the Old Kingdom came back into vogue, at least in art, as did the figural style, but at the same time they were experimenting with portrait styles and studies from life. You'll see this sort archaism again in the Late Period when Egypt was ruled by foreign kings and they were looking to reclaim their strength through the visual identity of the much earlier past."
"What about the period of naturalising that took place in the New Kingdom?"
"The Amarna period?"
"Yes, Amarna, didn't that change their art?"
"Well, you'll see that later in the exhibition, and I can't take much more time now 'cause the next group is here, but you'll see that for all it's changes, and apparent progressiveness, it was so identified with the negative aspects of the king that by 100 years later, you would never know it had existed. You'll see the remarkable shift back to static sculpture that comes with Rameses the Great."
"I had no idea how complicated their art really was. It was never my specialty, but it is really fascinating and I think I'll take a closer look at it over the summer."
Monday, April 26, 2004
My great week has now been followed-up by a great weekend. I feel so lucky and so happy and satisfied, even though not everything is going the way I want it to. That's life, right? Right. Following up on the idea of life as a spiral, while things look, on the surface, much like they did not so long ago, here I am, looking down, and I can see where I was this time last year and I KNOW I have progressed. I've got school to look forward to in the fall and a summer full of excitement and adventure. I have a boyfriend with whom I am very happy and friends surrounding me. Sure, the money is sometimes tight, but not like it was, and for that I am extremely grateful. I am talented and smart and generally a good person. I have a cat that I adore and plants that are healthy. Things are good.
And bearing that in mind, I now prepare myself for the inevitably unpleasant phonecall to the people at Canada Student Loans.
And bearing that in mind, I now prepare myself for the inevitably unpleasant phonecall to the people at Canada Student Loans.
Saturday, April 24, 2004
I've had a great week. It's not that anything out of the ordinary has happened, it's just been, well, pretty good. With the exception of an encounter with a co-worker that was less than pleasant, all has been well.
I managed to go out for someone's birthday on Thursday night and hear some music, which was really nice. I haven't gone to hear a band, or musician play in months and months. I knew one of the performers and she was excellent, really moving and fun. Her name is Karyn Ellis and she's pretty darn good, so check her out. Following her performance was group called Amanda Mabro and the Cabaret Band (I think). They were a tight little swing band fronted by Amanda Mabro and she's incredible. Pipes out of this world. Rick came out for some of the fun, but due to pressures at his work, he had to leave early in order to get some sleep.
The evening prior, Wednesday, was spent at Rick's and he cooked a yummy dinner and we watched television. I know, how exciting is that? Anyway, we were both dead tired (see a pattern?) and rather than pass out on his couch I decided to head home for a good night's sleep. It's a good thing I did, too, or I'd have missed the awesome "street theatre" at Queen and Carlaw. This is a sketchy corner at best, and truly divey and sometimes scary at worst. I've had a lot of experience with it, in that Rick's the third guy I've dated who lived right there.
Let me set the scene. One plump art student type guy with portfolio and parchment case under his arm, another fellow of undetermined ethnic background, a little shorter than me with dark eyes and long dark hair, and a deaf-mute. The deaf-mute (is there a more PC term for this?) was dressed in a sporty wind-breaker, nice cream-coloured, very clean, pressed slacks, and expensive looking brown woven leather shoes. He also had tattoos on the back of his hands between thumb and forefinger, plus a very expensive looking watch. If it weren't for his wild gesticulating and howling at passing cars, he looked as if he would fit in very nicely on the set of The Sopranos.
A patrol car came cruising up Carlaw, as the police tend to do, slowly checking out everyone at the corner, stopping when it came abreast of the ranting fellow. The got out, a female officer and a male, and they started to ask him some questions. This was the point when I realised he was deaf, previous to this I had assumed he was a crazy, drunk man, of which there are many in the neighbourhood. Through rudimentary sign language on the part of the female officer and more of the man's wild gesticulating, he got his point across that he lives in a house "over that way" and he was waiting for the bus to take him.
At this point, the bus arrived and we all filed on. The police chatted with the driver for a minute and parted company when the driver accepted the deaf guy on without a ticket. As soon as the bus starts to move, the guy starts ranting again, hands forming big shapes in the air. I'm paying loose attention, mostly seeing him as comical and basically harmless, but I can't figure out what he's saying. The guy from the bus stop, the one of undetermined ethnic origins, turns around in the seat in front of me, grinning, and says, "Wow, that guy's great." I agree and he adds, "Do you know what he's saying?" When I said I didn't, he began to decipher the hand gestures for me. I don't know how he was able to figure it out, but once he started to explain, it became obvious that he was right.
It went something like this: I live in a big house and have lots of money and it's really funny to me that I am riding the bus with you poor people because I fly all over the world. We started to hypothesise about what kind of a house he really lived in and whether or not it was true or whether this guy was really out of it. It was impossible to tell since he was clearly a bit of a head-case, but also dressed pretty darn well. He got off the bus at Danforth and headed off down the street so we'll never know for sure, but it was awfully amusing to watch his antics.
In other news, my dear friend Tanya is getting married. Whee ! More about that at another time. Also, Willi has been extra adorable with me, following me around and talking to me constantly, while Tobe spends a lot of her time sleeping in the sink.
I managed to go out for someone's birthday on Thursday night and hear some music, which was really nice. I haven't gone to hear a band, or musician play in months and months. I knew one of the performers and she was excellent, really moving and fun. Her name is Karyn Ellis and she's pretty darn good, so check her out. Following her performance was group called Amanda Mabro and the Cabaret Band (I think). They were a tight little swing band fronted by Amanda Mabro and she's incredible. Pipes out of this world. Rick came out for some of the fun, but due to pressures at his work, he had to leave early in order to get some sleep.
The evening prior, Wednesday, was spent at Rick's and he cooked a yummy dinner and we watched television. I know, how exciting is that? Anyway, we were both dead tired (see a pattern?) and rather than pass out on his couch I decided to head home for a good night's sleep. It's a good thing I did, too, or I'd have missed the awesome "street theatre" at Queen and Carlaw. This is a sketchy corner at best, and truly divey and sometimes scary at worst. I've had a lot of experience with it, in that Rick's the third guy I've dated who lived right there.
Let me set the scene. One plump art student type guy with portfolio and parchment case under his arm, another fellow of undetermined ethnic background, a little shorter than me with dark eyes and long dark hair, and a deaf-mute. The deaf-mute (is there a more PC term for this?) was dressed in a sporty wind-breaker, nice cream-coloured, very clean, pressed slacks, and expensive looking brown woven leather shoes. He also had tattoos on the back of his hands between thumb and forefinger, plus a very expensive looking watch. If it weren't for his wild gesticulating and howling at passing cars, he looked as if he would fit in very nicely on the set of The Sopranos.
A patrol car came cruising up Carlaw, as the police tend to do, slowly checking out everyone at the corner, stopping when it came abreast of the ranting fellow. The got out, a female officer and a male, and they started to ask him some questions. This was the point when I realised he was deaf, previous to this I had assumed he was a crazy, drunk man, of which there are many in the neighbourhood. Through rudimentary sign language on the part of the female officer and more of the man's wild gesticulating, he got his point across that he lives in a house "over that way" and he was waiting for the bus to take him.
At this point, the bus arrived and we all filed on. The police chatted with the driver for a minute and parted company when the driver accepted the deaf guy on without a ticket. As soon as the bus starts to move, the guy starts ranting again, hands forming big shapes in the air. I'm paying loose attention, mostly seeing him as comical and basically harmless, but I can't figure out what he's saying. The guy from the bus stop, the one of undetermined ethnic origins, turns around in the seat in front of me, grinning, and says, "Wow, that guy's great." I agree and he adds, "Do you know what he's saying?" When I said I didn't, he began to decipher the hand gestures for me. I don't know how he was able to figure it out, but once he started to explain, it became obvious that he was right.
It went something like this: I live in a big house and have lots of money and it's really funny to me that I am riding the bus with you poor people because I fly all over the world. We started to hypothesise about what kind of a house he really lived in and whether or not it was true or whether this guy was really out of it. It was impossible to tell since he was clearly a bit of a head-case, but also dressed pretty darn well. He got off the bus at Danforth and headed off down the street so we'll never know for sure, but it was awfully amusing to watch his antics.
In other news, my dear friend Tanya is getting married. Whee ! More about that at another time. Also, Willi has been extra adorable with me, following me around and talking to me constantly, while Tobe spends a lot of her time sleeping in the sink.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Tonight, after a not terribly satisfying "bad movie" night with Stew and all his girls, or almost all them, and a fairly satisfying game of Munchkin, I am now engaged in a very Canadian tradition. I am drinking beer (though it is neither Molson or Labatt) and watching Game Seven between Toronto and Ottawa (Hockey, here folks). Ottawa is losing and there are only three minutes remaining in play, the Toronto fans have begun chanting "Hey, hey, hey, goodbye", and it's fairly safe to say that Ottawa won't be able to catch up those three goals to tie it up. A small part of me wishes it were not the case, I wanted Ottawa to go down with a greater fight, but what can you do? One of them has to win, the other has to lose - that's the way it works.
I don't usually watch hockey. Most of the season I only pay passing attention, though in previous years, because I was part of a pool, I did pay some. I love playoff hockey, though, it's fast and tense and the meat-heads prove their worth and for once, Toronto fans make noise. If I lived in my old neighbourhood people would spill out into the streets from all the bars and make a lot of noise, but here, in this predominantly Italian soccer-loving neighbourhood, there will probably be very little noise made. Rick might go whoop it up on Yonge Street, he said. I've done the whooping, albeit for baseball, but I know what it's like and I don't need my arm nearly pulled off by a drunk again, thanks, once was enough.
I just whitnessed something that was pretty interesting, I must say, a melee broke out between two players and it was essentially broken up by the ref and one of Ottawa's players who took hold of one of the Leafs and just talked him down and kept him out of it until it was settled. I'm not used to seeing that sort of sportsmanship.
Anyway, it's official, Toronto won and a single person just came out on my street and rang a hand-bell. And then he went away again. This really is a soccer street. My neighbours woke me up every morning during the World Cup, in case there was any doubt. The game was won by the beginning of the third period as Ottawa couldn't get it together to score any more and as their confidence slipped, Toronto managed to broaden the win even further. In the end, it was 4-1 and Toronto will go onto play Philadelphia.
Finally, I would like to take a moment to make it public that when Toronto picked up Belfour, their extraordinary goalie, Rick said, "Nah, he's OLD." I was a fan right from the start and said something along the lines of, "Ya, but he knows what he's doing and he's good at it." Boy is he ever. Yay !
Well, my beer is finished, and for you who care to know, it was a Rickard's Red, the hockey game is over, and company is still over. There remains a small portion of my room that still needs cleaning, though it's all vacuumed and swept and tidied and whatnot, so I should attend to the details before they start to pile up again. Or, I'll pop a new cloth on my Swiffer Wet-Jet... yes, that is what I will do. And it will be wonderful. Goodnight.
I don't usually watch hockey. Most of the season I only pay passing attention, though in previous years, because I was part of a pool, I did pay some. I love playoff hockey, though, it's fast and tense and the meat-heads prove their worth and for once, Toronto fans make noise. If I lived in my old neighbourhood people would spill out into the streets from all the bars and make a lot of noise, but here, in this predominantly Italian soccer-loving neighbourhood, there will probably be very little noise made. Rick might go whoop it up on Yonge Street, he said. I've done the whooping, albeit for baseball, but I know what it's like and I don't need my arm nearly pulled off by a drunk again, thanks, once was enough.
I just whitnessed something that was pretty interesting, I must say, a melee broke out between two players and it was essentially broken up by the ref and one of Ottawa's players who took hold of one of the Leafs and just talked him down and kept him out of it until it was settled. I'm not used to seeing that sort of sportsmanship.
Anyway, it's official, Toronto won and a single person just came out on my street and rang a hand-bell. And then he went away again. This really is a soccer street. My neighbours woke me up every morning during the World Cup, in case there was any doubt. The game was won by the beginning of the third period as Ottawa couldn't get it together to score any more and as their confidence slipped, Toronto managed to broaden the win even further. In the end, it was 4-1 and Toronto will go onto play Philadelphia.
Finally, I would like to take a moment to make it public that when Toronto picked up Belfour, their extraordinary goalie, Rick said, "Nah, he's OLD." I was a fan right from the start and said something along the lines of, "Ya, but he knows what he's doing and he's good at it." Boy is he ever. Yay !
Well, my beer is finished, and for you who care to know, it was a Rickard's Red, the hockey game is over, and company is still over. There remains a small portion of my room that still needs cleaning, though it's all vacuumed and swept and tidied and whatnot, so I should attend to the details before they start to pile up again. Or, I'll pop a new cloth on my Swiffer Wet-Jet... yes, that is what I will do. And it will be wonderful. Goodnight.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
It's been a little time since my last real post and I decided it was time to sit down and write a little. This week has shown a full scale welcoming of spring in my neighbourhood even though it began with coolish temperatures and wind chill. Firstly, the sun has been shining most of the week and the birds have been singing merrily every morning. I've been watching various urban birds go through their elaborate mating rituals. The pigeons outside the ROM aren't the best examples as they court in good weather almost the whole year long, but the males have been especially impressive with their puffed up strutting and cooing and the females haven't altogether ignored them. I was watching some starlings do cute things with nesting materials yesterday and each evening I've enjoyed the sound of robins wishing the day a goodnight.
The tom cats have been out prowling. My house which has two spayed females upstairs and a as of yet unspayed kitty below, has been a frequented spot for the neighbourhood toms who have been leaving their musky calling cards against the front of the house and porch. Yum. The other neighbourhood toms, the young men, have been out lowering the suspensions of their Hondas and driving around with their subwoofers turned way up - a sure sign that the weather has been improving. Also, for the first time this season, I heard the dreadfully annoying jingling dingle of the icecream truck coming down the street. The skunks have been out and about, scurrying across the road and getting into things. Inside the house, Willi and Tobe have been in very high spirits, cavorting about the place with gleeful abandon. As for myself, I've been in pretty good spirits, too, most likely because of the longer days and bright, warm sun.
And, the final, most telling sign of spring are the Italian (and Portugese, to be fair) housewives standing outside hosing down the sidewalks. Why they feel the sidewalks must have litres and litres of water poured over them, I don't know, but obviously, water conservation is not a high priority. My landlords are currently out downstairs landscaping the front lawn, as well. They have an interesting concept of garden design, what with the birdbath set at the very front of the lawn with the enormous frog that pretty much fills it. I think it's a fountain of some sort, too. Today, when I came down the street, I found them, and a friend, busy planting geraniums. Already. I told them it looks very lovely, but I warned them that it might just be a bit early yet. There's a rule for planting on the May 24th weekend for a reason. I explained that there could still be snow, even if it's not terribly likely. They seemed shocked but grudgingly agreed it was probably too soon, but oh well, geraniums are hardy. They're from Spain. I think there's a lot about Canada they haven't quite figured out yet.
Anyway, this post out of my system, I think it's time for my nap. I haven't been getting to bed when I ought lately, for one reason or another, and I'm really tired. There was supposed to be a Job Review Committee meeting today but it was canceled, happily. Had it gone ahead, I would have stuck around for a ROM Friends of South Asia event tonight, but I couldn't justify hanging around for five hours. I knew that if I went home I probably wouldn't make it back, either. So, I went for lunch with some of the girls at the museum and then came home. I browsed around on St. Clair for a bit when I got off the streetcar, but I have learned that nothing will fit me. All clothes stop at size 12 and all shoes go up to 91/2. I guess they're not buying their goods for the tall market. Funny, that, this being a predominantly Mediterranean neighbourhood.
The tom cats have been out prowling. My house which has two spayed females upstairs and a as of yet unspayed kitty below, has been a frequented spot for the neighbourhood toms who have been leaving their musky calling cards against the front of the house and porch. Yum. The other neighbourhood toms, the young men, have been out lowering the suspensions of their Hondas and driving around with their subwoofers turned way up - a sure sign that the weather has been improving. Also, for the first time this season, I heard the dreadfully annoying jingling dingle of the icecream truck coming down the street. The skunks have been out and about, scurrying across the road and getting into things. Inside the house, Willi and Tobe have been in very high spirits, cavorting about the place with gleeful abandon. As for myself, I've been in pretty good spirits, too, most likely because of the longer days and bright, warm sun.
And, the final, most telling sign of spring are the Italian (and Portugese, to be fair) housewives standing outside hosing down the sidewalks. Why they feel the sidewalks must have litres and litres of water poured over them, I don't know, but obviously, water conservation is not a high priority. My landlords are currently out downstairs landscaping the front lawn, as well. They have an interesting concept of garden design, what with the birdbath set at the very front of the lawn with the enormous frog that pretty much fills it. I think it's a fountain of some sort, too. Today, when I came down the street, I found them, and a friend, busy planting geraniums. Already. I told them it looks very lovely, but I warned them that it might just be a bit early yet. There's a rule for planting on the May 24th weekend for a reason. I explained that there could still be snow, even if it's not terribly likely. They seemed shocked but grudgingly agreed it was probably too soon, but oh well, geraniums are hardy. They're from Spain. I think there's a lot about Canada they haven't quite figured out yet.
Anyway, this post out of my system, I think it's time for my nap. I haven't been getting to bed when I ought lately, for one reason or another, and I'm really tired. There was supposed to be a Job Review Committee meeting today but it was canceled, happily. Had it gone ahead, I would have stuck around for a ROM Friends of South Asia event tonight, but I couldn't justify hanging around for five hours. I knew that if I went home I probably wouldn't make it back, either. So, I went for lunch with some of the girls at the museum and then came home. I browsed around on St. Clair for a bit when I got off the streetcar, but I have learned that nothing will fit me. All clothes stop at size 12 and all shoes go up to 91/2. I guess they're not buying their goods for the tall market. Funny, that, this being a predominantly Mediterranean neighbourhood.
Friday, April 09, 2004
How seasonally appropriate, thanks to Meriam Webster:
The Word of the Day for Apr 08 is:
Pasch \PASK\ noun
*1 : Easter
2 : Passover
Example sentence:"Miss Ina will not be for burying him in the kirkyard, but in Isle-Monach, where my Donald would be seeing ghosts at Yule and Pasch." (Walter C. Smith, "Kildrostan")
Did you know?
Easter is sometimes called the Christian Passover, and Passover the Jewish Easter. Given that, it's not surprising that "Pasch" comes from the Hebrew word for "Passover" — "pesah." That word, in turn, is from Hebrew "pâsah," meaning "to pass over." One interpretation (though not the only one) is that the word refers to the final plague before the Jews were permitted to leave Egypt (the Exodus commemorated by the celebration of Passover), in which God slew the firstborn sons of the Egyptians but passed over the Jewish households. "Pesah" became "pascha" in Greek, then "Pasch" in English, which, like a basket with two eggs, has held both a reference to Passover and to the Christian celebration of Christ's Resurrection since at least 1200.
The Word of the Day for Apr 08 is:
Pasch \PASK\ noun
*1 : Easter
2 : Passover
Example sentence:"Miss Ina will not be for burying him in the kirkyard, but in Isle-Monach, where my Donald would be seeing ghosts at Yule and Pasch." (Walter C. Smith, "Kildrostan")
Did you know?
Easter is sometimes called the Christian Passover, and Passover the Jewish Easter. Given that, it's not surprising that "Pasch" comes from the Hebrew word for "Passover" — "pesah." That word, in turn, is from Hebrew "pâsah," meaning "to pass over." One interpretation (though not the only one) is that the word refers to the final plague before the Jews were permitted to leave Egypt (the Exodus commemorated by the celebration of Passover), in which God slew the firstborn sons of the Egyptians but passed over the Jewish households. "Pesah" became "pascha" in Greek, then "Pasch" in English, which, like a basket with two eggs, has held both a reference to Passover and to the Christian celebration of Christ's Resurrection since at least 1200.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Please note: unfocused thought processing ahead. Please be advised that there may be no conclusion whatsoever found or even a real point to this entry at all.
Some of you, those who know me, I suppose, know that I have an interest in the occult. It's a general interest that has influenced my studies and hobbies for years. I didn't put a name to it for a long time, and using the term 'occult' might be a bit misleading, but I am fascinated by mythology and early religion and how it's come down to us over time. Maybe I can lay the blame at the feet of my open-minded mother who gave me a huge book of greek mythology when I first learned to read. Now, we also used to read from my awesome illustrated Bible stories book, too, but I'd had that from before I could read, so I don't count it - though the story of Samson and Delilah always impressed me.
I was also raised in a house of two faiths - Judaism and Christianity - and allowed to chart my own course. Add to this my mother's involvement with Native Earth Performing Arts and the education in Native storytelling that I received via their shows. By the time I was twelve I was well on my way to broad-mindedness concerning faith and spirituality.
I'm rambling now; my essay-writing skills have suffered these past two years outside of academia. Anyway, I have just finished a really interesting book, Witch: the wild ride from wicked to wicca, by author Candace Savage. It discusses the image of the witch and how she has come down to us through history. It debunks a lot of myths surrounding the witch in her many incarnations and links each subsequent century with their misconceptions, right down to our own. It seems that in each successive generation, the roots of 'witchcraft' go further and further into the past so that by the middle of the twentieth century, the witch had been embraced by feminists and radical social reformers as an icon of collective resistance. Wicca, itself, was born from a misconceived idea of medieval witch cults built from scant records and elaborated on extensively by early anthropologist Margaret Murray. You can read the revised texts here, but when the intro states that "Murray was one of the first to objectively review the evidence of the 'burning times' witch trials to try to extract a kernel of truth" understand that this is not wholey true. It seems that she actually did a bit of book-cooking herself.
In fact, there's been so much cooking of the books that it is nearly impossible to know fact from fiction. And that is one of the reasons it fascinates me so much. In one of my fourth year seminars, I began with the development of an idea about depictions of peasantry in Renaissance art and how they served as moral truths and satirical commentary. This developed into an interest in depictions of women in Renaissance art and from there into the idea of the witch. I also recently read an excellent book called "King Death" and I can see the parallels between the ideas it promoted, concerning Bubonic Plague in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance, and the rising fear of witchcraft and evil. I feel like I should revisit the topic, but I think my paper might be gone - thrown in a bin for my lack of interest, or something. Perhaps my professor still has a copy, or perhaps it exists somewhere on a disc.
Thought process is here ended. We return to our regularly scheduled programming.
I'm currently in the Petes in order to celebrate Passover with Mom. All the matzoh has stoppered me like a corked bottle of wine and I'm already yearning for biscotti. Terrible, I know. I should be ashamed. I am working at the ROM on Good Friday and Easter Monday, which is very good for my bank account, and as I'm not working Saturday or Sunday, I can take the car into Toronto and return with it for a couple more days of relaxation. I have a date with Rick tomorrow night. I believe we'll be seeing Hell Boy, which should be fun, even though I've never read the comic book. So, my return to Peterborough with the car will be Saturday morning. I'd bring my cat if I were staying out a little longer. She could use some romping in the garden as she's gotten a bit pudgy.
But now, if plans hold, I am to help put up the bird feeders.
Some of you, those who know me, I suppose, know that I have an interest in the occult. It's a general interest that has influenced my studies and hobbies for years. I didn't put a name to it for a long time, and using the term 'occult' might be a bit misleading, but I am fascinated by mythology and early religion and how it's come down to us over time. Maybe I can lay the blame at the feet of my open-minded mother who gave me a huge book of greek mythology when I first learned to read. Now, we also used to read from my awesome illustrated Bible stories book, too, but I'd had that from before I could read, so I don't count it - though the story of Samson and Delilah always impressed me.
I was also raised in a house of two faiths - Judaism and Christianity - and allowed to chart my own course. Add to this my mother's involvement with Native Earth Performing Arts and the education in Native storytelling that I received via their shows. By the time I was twelve I was well on my way to broad-mindedness concerning faith and spirituality.
I'm rambling now; my essay-writing skills have suffered these past two years outside of academia. Anyway, I have just finished a really interesting book, Witch: the wild ride from wicked to wicca, by author Candace Savage. It discusses the image of the witch and how she has come down to us through history. It debunks a lot of myths surrounding the witch in her many incarnations and links each subsequent century with their misconceptions, right down to our own. It seems that in each successive generation, the roots of 'witchcraft' go further and further into the past so that by the middle of the twentieth century, the witch had been embraced by feminists and radical social reformers as an icon of collective resistance. Wicca, itself, was born from a misconceived idea of medieval witch cults built from scant records and elaborated on extensively by early anthropologist Margaret Murray. You can read the revised texts here, but when the intro states that "Murray was one of the first to objectively review the evidence of the 'burning times' witch trials to try to extract a kernel of truth" understand that this is not wholey true. It seems that she actually did a bit of book-cooking herself.
In fact, there's been so much cooking of the books that it is nearly impossible to know fact from fiction. And that is one of the reasons it fascinates me so much. In one of my fourth year seminars, I began with the development of an idea about depictions of peasantry in Renaissance art and how they served as moral truths and satirical commentary. This developed into an interest in depictions of women in Renaissance art and from there into the idea of the witch. I also recently read an excellent book called "King Death" and I can see the parallels between the ideas it promoted, concerning Bubonic Plague in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance, and the rising fear of witchcraft and evil. I feel like I should revisit the topic, but I think my paper might be gone - thrown in a bin for my lack of interest, or something. Perhaps my professor still has a copy, or perhaps it exists somewhere on a disc.
Thought process is here ended. We return to our regularly scheduled programming.
I'm currently in the Petes in order to celebrate Passover with Mom. All the matzoh has stoppered me like a corked bottle of wine and I'm already yearning for biscotti. Terrible, I know. I should be ashamed. I am working at the ROM on Good Friday and Easter Monday, which is very good for my bank account, and as I'm not working Saturday or Sunday, I can take the car into Toronto and return with it for a couple more days of relaxation. I have a date with Rick tomorrow night. I believe we'll be seeing Hell Boy, which should be fun, even though I've never read the comic book. So, my return to Peterborough with the car will be Saturday morning. I'd bring my cat if I were staying out a little longer. She could use some romping in the garden as she's gotten a bit pudgy.
But now, if plans hold, I am to help put up the bird feeders.
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
I have been neglecting this journal in favour of the much more mindless Live Journal that I can be found frequently posting in. I've been trying to reserve this one for more profound thoughts, but I haven't had many of late.
With the exception of my little theory concerning the grade nine students who come through Eternal Egypt. I have discussed it with various people whom I consider intelligent and thoughtful, including my mother, and mostly once I lay it out, they agree. I came to this understanding after one particular day when I had lots of grade fives and one class of developmentally handicapped adults.
From what I have seen and experienced, the grade nines are the absolute most difficult age level to engage in conversation. They do not want to talk. Sometimes, they raise their hands and then as soon as I turn to them they falter. This is not nearly so bad among the grade elevens, who are beginning to show interest and offer answers. It came to me when I dealt with the developmentally impaired group. These were also young adults, probably around 18 years of age, or so, and yet I had no trouble engaging them. They were a lot like the grade five groups I see so much of with their enthusiasm and volunteering of information.
Children are very emotional. They have no trouble suspending their disbelief. If I tell them that Egyptian judgement consisted of the deceased's heart being weight against a feather, they have no problem accepting that a heart can weigh as little as a feather. Or that the feather of Ma'at (the concept of truth and order) might actually weigh more than a normal feather. Again, with the group of special adults, they had no problem accepting this. They are able to believe, just as a child can believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. In contrast, the grade elevens have developed their 'mature' thinking skills. They no longer think of things in terms of emotion, instead they think rationally. They can understand the emotional qualities, but place it in a seperate compartment.
The grade nines, however; are in the process of making the leap from emotional thought to rational understanding. More often than not, their questions are the ones that struggle to bridge the gap. For instance, "How can a heart and feather weigh the same?" They are attempting to reason out the answer, but are unable to quite let go of their child-like comprehension. It's sort of an extension, I think, of how younger children try to comprehend the existence of Santa Claus. Grade nine is a brutal time in a person's development, and now, taking into consideration what I have seen, I think I have a much better understanding of exactly what makes it so difficult. More than any other year in a kid's life, I think that one is the gap over which the youth is standing, one foot in childhood, the other in adulthood.
I wouldn't want to repeat it under any circumstance, but it does make me view them less as a downer and more as a challenge.
With the exception of my little theory concerning the grade nine students who come through Eternal Egypt. I have discussed it with various people whom I consider intelligent and thoughtful, including my mother, and mostly once I lay it out, they agree. I came to this understanding after one particular day when I had lots of grade fives and one class of developmentally handicapped adults.
From what I have seen and experienced, the grade nines are the absolute most difficult age level to engage in conversation. They do not want to talk. Sometimes, they raise their hands and then as soon as I turn to them they falter. This is not nearly so bad among the grade elevens, who are beginning to show interest and offer answers. It came to me when I dealt with the developmentally impaired group. These were also young adults, probably around 18 years of age, or so, and yet I had no trouble engaging them. They were a lot like the grade five groups I see so much of with their enthusiasm and volunteering of information.
Children are very emotional. They have no trouble suspending their disbelief. If I tell them that Egyptian judgement consisted of the deceased's heart being weight against a feather, they have no problem accepting that a heart can weigh as little as a feather. Or that the feather of Ma'at (the concept of truth and order) might actually weigh more than a normal feather. Again, with the group of special adults, they had no problem accepting this. They are able to believe, just as a child can believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. In contrast, the grade elevens have developed their 'mature' thinking skills. They no longer think of things in terms of emotion, instead they think rationally. They can understand the emotional qualities, but place it in a seperate compartment.
The grade nines, however; are in the process of making the leap from emotional thought to rational understanding. More often than not, their questions are the ones that struggle to bridge the gap. For instance, "How can a heart and feather weigh the same?" They are attempting to reason out the answer, but are unable to quite let go of their child-like comprehension. It's sort of an extension, I think, of how younger children try to comprehend the existence of Santa Claus. Grade nine is a brutal time in a person's development, and now, taking into consideration what I have seen, I think I have a much better understanding of exactly what makes it so difficult. More than any other year in a kid's life, I think that one is the gap over which the youth is standing, one foot in childhood, the other in adulthood.
I wouldn't want to repeat it under any circumstance, but it does make me view them less as a downer and more as a challenge.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Spring has sprung. Aside from the rain and the blooming crocusses, random construction projects have been springing up all around the city. With my sliding door ajar I can hear the robins before dawn and the drills once the sky gets light. Ahhhh, spring. It's going to rain all week and it's raining pretty heavily now, and here I am, knowing that my umbrella is where I left it - in my apartment. I am so clever.
I spent a couple of hours painting Grurl, one of my cute, fat dragons (I should trademark that) while I watched the last half of Pirate Movie and CSI Miami, which was slightly more realistic than it usually is. Grurl sits in a little flower pot, all four feet in the air, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He's a nice, vibrant blue with orange detailing and I gave him plastic stuffed-animal eyes so he looks a little intense. He's pretty cute. I hope someone takes him home from Ad-Astra. I'll try to get some pictures of him and the other ones I've made, too.
This morning I woke up around 7am, which is about an hour earlier than I need to get up, because Stinky was making quite a bit of noise as she wrestled with one of her cat toys. It was the squeaky... um... hampster?... and every so often it let out a pathetic, wheezy squeak. When she'd quite finished with it she dropped herself onto me like a small, soft, sack of sand and went to sleep. She and Porkchop have been getting along much better of late - perhaps the return of spring has raised their spirits. I hear them playing, then they tear into my room, raise some Hell before flying out again, and then the thumping continues in other parts of the house.
I sort of feel like I should be talking about important things. The thing is, I haven't heard back from Fleming College yet as to whether I've been accepted, things haven't moved much on the dead-beat politician issue, I've settled into the new jobs with no drama... This doesn't leave a whole lot to talk about. The most exciting things I can think of these days is my planned trip to New York in June. And even that is only in the conceptual stage. I'm thinking that if I'm there for a week (with Mom) then I might skip over to Philadelphia for two days of that to visit my pal, Megs, and various other people. Too bad it looks like there won't be any exciting temporary exhibits at the Philly Museum of Art, but there do seem to be several interesting exhibitions on at the Met. I might try the Rodin Museum in Philly, too, as I've never been there.
I spent a couple of hours painting Grurl, one of my cute, fat dragons (I should trademark that) while I watched the last half of Pirate Movie and CSI Miami, which was slightly more realistic than it usually is. Grurl sits in a little flower pot, all four feet in the air, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He's a nice, vibrant blue with orange detailing and I gave him plastic stuffed-animal eyes so he looks a little intense. He's pretty cute. I hope someone takes him home from Ad-Astra. I'll try to get some pictures of him and the other ones I've made, too.
This morning I woke up around 7am, which is about an hour earlier than I need to get up, because Stinky was making quite a bit of noise as she wrestled with one of her cat toys. It was the squeaky... um... hampster?... and every so often it let out a pathetic, wheezy squeak. When she'd quite finished with it she dropped herself onto me like a small, soft, sack of sand and went to sleep. She and Porkchop have been getting along much better of late - perhaps the return of spring has raised their spirits. I hear them playing, then they tear into my room, raise some Hell before flying out again, and then the thumping continues in other parts of the house.
I sort of feel like I should be talking about important things. The thing is, I haven't heard back from Fleming College yet as to whether I've been accepted, things haven't moved much on the dead-beat politician issue, I've settled into the new jobs with no drama... This doesn't leave a whole lot to talk about. The most exciting things I can think of these days is my planned trip to New York in June. And even that is only in the conceptual stage. I'm thinking that if I'm there for a week (with Mom) then I might skip over to Philadelphia for two days of that to visit my pal, Megs, and various other people. Too bad it looks like there won't be any exciting temporary exhibits at the Philly Museum of Art, but there do seem to be several interesting exhibitions on at the Met. I might try the Rodin Museum in Philly, too, as I've never been there.
Sunday, March 28, 2004
Working the main cash is a long shift, though not as long as that of the information desk. I see a lot of people from a lot of places (today including a family from Bermuda, two very funny Dutch lesbians, a family from Australia, etc.), but most of them aren't terribly interesting. There are people who reek of booze and reefer, or cigarettes, others talking around their hotdogs, people with strange body odours... You get the idea. When I worked at Membership I had a few of those, but mostly just expensive drunks. What kind of disappoints me is that here I am, chatting with everyone, greeting everyone, smiling all day, and so many people are so utterly humourless. I told the Dutch ladies that I wished they could just hang out at admissions all day to amuse me. They rocked. But they only just managed to balance out the nasty old man who was very angry about everything.
Now the day is winding down and I'm getting ready to cash out and I'm looking forward to going home and painting fat dragons. I'm going to put aside my money concerns, of which, despite an increase in pay, I still have, and just take it nice and easy. I think maybe with a cup of tea.
Now the day is winding down and I'm getting ready to cash out and I'm looking forward to going home and painting fat dragons. I'm going to put aside my money concerns, of which, despite an increase in pay, I still have, and just take it nice and easy. I think maybe with a cup of tea.
Saturday, March 27, 2004
Oh my goodness, I've had such a nice night with Rick... actually, I've had a really nice day. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? After calling out of work sick with the uckiness of a cold yesterday, I dragged myself out of bed in order not to miss another day at the museum. Good thing I did, too, because today's batch of tours was really rewarding. Every single group was great. With the exception of one group of developmentally handicapped young adults, they were all about ten years old and the most (including the special group) engaged, enthusiastic bunch so far. I learned that it's not hard to teach about Egypt to high-functioning autistics and people with downs-syndrome, you just need to appeal to their emotional understanding. They all loved the concept of the Egyptian afterlife, which is a farm where the fields are always irregated, there are animals ("I don't like goats - they're smelly"), and it's always sunny. Hey, me too. Sign me up.
As a slight digression from my day, I feel really comfortable in the Eternal Egypt exhibition now that I've taken Mom and Julie through it. Spending over two hours talking about nearly every piece and certainly every period of Egyptian history makes me realise just how much I actually know. And I keep thinking of things I could have said while I was taking them through and never got around to mentioning. I really do enjoy this new job in Education and I'll be sorry when it ends in June. I'd happily work the feathered dinosaur exhibit that's coming next year, but God-willing, I'll be in school. There will be other exhibits, though, and maybe after I'm done at school, I'll be on a different end of things - making some of the magic happen.
I ran some errands following that and took my self-portrait in to be framed at Frames 'n Graphics on Bloor Street before heading home to have a nice afternoon nap. I also cleaned out Willi's litter pan, disinfected it with cleanser and all. She naturally spent a good portion of my nap-time digging in it fiercely and waking me up. It clearly meets her standards of clean because she was in and out of it at least three times before she let Tobe anywhere near (who then also made use of it). Once I was awake again, happily noting that it is now still light out until past six o'clock in the evening, I headed out to meet Rick at our favourite (only?) Indian restaurant, Red Rose. The last time we were there was the day I told Rick I needed a break, so this was a much happier occasion and we enjoyed every moment of it. He gave me They Might Be Giants' children's book, which was very sweet of him and totally unnecessary.
We had initially intended to go see Ladykillers tonight, the new, seemingly quite bizarre Tom Hanks movie, but we ended up walking all along Bloor Street, ducking into Cheapo (Sonic Boom) Records and then Book City. It's very nice to be able to afford a couple of used CDs and one book on sale. It's been so very long. This past two weeks I've been able to buy clothing for the first time in months - with my own money - and now something to entertain my ears and my brain. In fact, one of the CDs I bought was an EP by my old favourite indy band, Red Autumn Fall. It's kind of surreal to be sitting here in my house with Rick in the shower, Willi sleeping on my monitor, and Simeon pouring out his mellifluous soul into my room. I haven't listened to RAF in years, but this EP is so much better than the CD they put out before they broke up.
So, we ended the evening having a coffee at Dooney's and being all hipster like. I enjoyed some tasty, if not exactly like how I remember it, New York cherry-topped cheesecake and a cappucino and Rick had an Irish coffee. We walked to Spadina Station and Rick slid his way up the immobile moving sidewalk and when we finally got home it was after eleven. Now we're both clean, well-fed, and ready for a snuggle.
As a slight digression from my day, I feel really comfortable in the Eternal Egypt exhibition now that I've taken Mom and Julie through it. Spending over two hours talking about nearly every piece and certainly every period of Egyptian history makes me realise just how much I actually know. And I keep thinking of things I could have said while I was taking them through and never got around to mentioning. I really do enjoy this new job in Education and I'll be sorry when it ends in June. I'd happily work the feathered dinosaur exhibit that's coming next year, but God-willing, I'll be in school. There will be other exhibits, though, and maybe after I'm done at school, I'll be on a different end of things - making some of the magic happen.
I ran some errands following that and took my self-portrait in to be framed at Frames 'n Graphics on Bloor Street before heading home to have a nice afternoon nap. I also cleaned out Willi's litter pan, disinfected it with cleanser and all. She naturally spent a good portion of my nap-time digging in it fiercely and waking me up. It clearly meets her standards of clean because she was in and out of it at least three times before she let Tobe anywhere near (who then also made use of it). Once I was awake again, happily noting that it is now still light out until past six o'clock in the evening, I headed out to meet Rick at our favourite (only?) Indian restaurant, Red Rose. The last time we were there was the day I told Rick I needed a break, so this was a much happier occasion and we enjoyed every moment of it. He gave me They Might Be Giants' children's book, which was very sweet of him and totally unnecessary.
We had initially intended to go see Ladykillers tonight, the new, seemingly quite bizarre Tom Hanks movie, but we ended up walking all along Bloor Street, ducking into Cheapo (Sonic Boom) Records and then Book City. It's very nice to be able to afford a couple of used CDs and one book on sale. It's been so very long. This past two weeks I've been able to buy clothing for the first time in months - with my own money - and now something to entertain my ears and my brain. In fact, one of the CDs I bought was an EP by my old favourite indy band, Red Autumn Fall. It's kind of surreal to be sitting here in my house with Rick in the shower, Willi sleeping on my monitor, and Simeon pouring out his mellifluous soul into my room. I haven't listened to RAF in years, but this EP is so much better than the CD they put out before they broke up.
So, we ended the evening having a coffee at Dooney's and being all hipster like. I enjoyed some tasty, if not exactly like how I remember it, New York cherry-topped cheesecake and a cappucino and Rick had an Irish coffee. We walked to Spadina Station and Rick slid his way up the immobile moving sidewalk and when we finally got home it was after eleven. Now we're both clean, well-fed, and ready for a snuggle.
Monday, March 22, 2004
Last night, I dreamed all sorts of weird things. The most troubling one concerning the latest assassination in Israel and the recent outbreak of anti-semitism in Toronto. People kept demading to know my feelings on Israel's policies and making accusitory remarks about how the vandalism is related to them and how Jews deserved this, etc. As most of my friends know, I am never quite able to put my feelings into words, a rare thing for me, as I simply cannot come up with how things in Israel should be handled. I believe in the Homeland and a little part of me always believes when we end the seder with "next year in Jerusalem", but do I support the policies? The state sanctioned murder? The wall? No. Do I feel for the victims of suicide bombings? Yes. So? Well, here's where I can't put it into words. I simply cannot fathom how anyone can get out of the mess that is Israel and Palestine. It was like this in my dream and people were yelling at me and hurling insults at me and then telling me it was my fault that Jewish cemetaries were being desecrated.
I am glad that when I woke up following this dream, there was a soft, fluffy cat curled up against me under my covers. Melody, as a cat of the ripe old age of 17, has no such worries, no understanding of those things that trouble my mind. She just offers love and attention and is generally available for kisses when needed.
Anyway, this past weekend was very nice. On Thursday night, my four year anniversary of being with Rick, he and I took the Greyhound out to the Petes where Mom picked us up. On Friday, as it was such a lovely day, all three of us went out for a walk along the Otonabee River. The usual photos were snapped in the usual places by the water, with the exception of a couple my mother took of Rick and I rough-housing. I guess it says something of my level of comfort with Rick, now, as opposed to in the past, as we have never really acted like that. We were flinging each other about, dragging each other around, all because I wouldn't relinquish my mother's cane to him. At the end of it, my arms kind of hurt, but I was smiling. I'm really happy with Rick and it shows. We went for dinner that night to a new Chinese (American-style) restaurant near-by and it was pretty darn yummy. Kind of like a scaled-down Mandarin, there were some very tasty things. On Saturday, Rick and I went off to the mall. Woo. He bought me the DVD release of Schindler's List as part of my present and I bought some small accessories and a card to send off to my little-sister, Gina, in Brooklyn.
We took Bernadette into Toronto on Saturday night so that I'd be able to work on Sunday and be able to drive out with our big present for Mom: a new (refurbished) 17" monitor. Rick was a Saint, picking it up for me as I had to work longer than I thought and would have otherwised missed the store hours. He waited for me at Kos for over two hours and I met him there. I had all-day breakfast and then we packed the monitor into the car. Stopping briefly chez moi so that I could pick up my school bag, say hi to Stew, and play with Willi, Rick took a moment to figure out why Natasha had suddenly gone from a half-empty harddrive to a nearly-full harddrive. It turns out that Stew's been storing stuff on it that he plans to burn for his friend, but he had failed to mention this to me. So, we deleted some un-used programmes and then I drove Rick home before returning to the Petes.
Mom and I will be driving into Toronto tonight, she staying at Julie's house in order to come to the ROM tomorrow. I'll be giving both of them the 'education' tour through Eternal Egypt. They're both looking forward to it, so much so that I actually feel some amount of pressure to really make it count. I've only spoken about three zones in the exhibit, four as of tomorrow morning, and I've got some studying to do, before I'm ready to do that. So, I hope that my tour for Mom and Julie lives up to their expectations and that they ask questions about things I actually know. *laugh* We shall see. Anyway, that's for tomorrow. Right now, I think it's time for a nice relaxing bath before my return. While I do that, you should check out my recent self-portrait. I'm quite proud of it. :)
I am glad that when I woke up following this dream, there was a soft, fluffy cat curled up against me under my covers. Melody, as a cat of the ripe old age of 17, has no such worries, no understanding of those things that trouble my mind. She just offers love and attention and is generally available for kisses when needed.
Anyway, this past weekend was very nice. On Thursday night, my four year anniversary of being with Rick, he and I took the Greyhound out to the Petes where Mom picked us up. On Friday, as it was such a lovely day, all three of us went out for a walk along the Otonabee River. The usual photos were snapped in the usual places by the water, with the exception of a couple my mother took of Rick and I rough-housing. I guess it says something of my level of comfort with Rick, now, as opposed to in the past, as we have never really acted like that. We were flinging each other about, dragging each other around, all because I wouldn't relinquish my mother's cane to him. At the end of it, my arms kind of hurt, but I was smiling. I'm really happy with Rick and it shows. We went for dinner that night to a new Chinese (American-style) restaurant near-by and it was pretty darn yummy. Kind of like a scaled-down Mandarin, there were some very tasty things. On Saturday, Rick and I went off to the mall. Woo. He bought me the DVD release of Schindler's List as part of my present and I bought some small accessories and a card to send off to my little-sister, Gina, in Brooklyn.
We took Bernadette into Toronto on Saturday night so that I'd be able to work on Sunday and be able to drive out with our big present for Mom: a new (refurbished) 17" monitor. Rick was a Saint, picking it up for me as I had to work longer than I thought and would have otherwised missed the store hours. He waited for me at Kos for over two hours and I met him there. I had all-day breakfast and then we packed the monitor into the car. Stopping briefly chez moi so that I could pick up my school bag, say hi to Stew, and play with Willi, Rick took a moment to figure out why Natasha had suddenly gone from a half-empty harddrive to a nearly-full harddrive. It turns out that Stew's been storing stuff on it that he plans to burn for his friend, but he had failed to mention this to me. So, we deleted some un-used programmes and then I drove Rick home before returning to the Petes.
Mom and I will be driving into Toronto tonight, she staying at Julie's house in order to come to the ROM tomorrow. I'll be giving both of them the 'education' tour through Eternal Egypt. They're both looking forward to it, so much so that I actually feel some amount of pressure to really make it count. I've only spoken about three zones in the exhibit, four as of tomorrow morning, and I've got some studying to do, before I'm ready to do that. So, I hope that my tour for Mom and Julie lives up to their expectations and that they ask questions about things I actually know. *laugh* We shall see. Anyway, that's for tomorrow. Right now, I think it's time for a nice relaxing bath before my return. While I do that, you should check out my recent self-portrait. I'm quite proud of it. :)
Monday, March 15, 2004
There comes a time in every woman's life, usually once a year, when she has to make a visit to the doctor to get... checked out. Awkward as it can be, if the doctor has a nice manner and can still laugh at your jokes while peering into parts never intended to be seen in such a manner, well, the experience can be rendered inoccuous. Today, I had such a doctor. In fact, this doctor gave me the best exam I think I've ever had, if that can be said about something so utterly undesired. Young men think that there could be nothing better than staring into a woman's vagina all day, or at least I've heard them comment that being a gynacologist is a 'dream job'. This is because they have NO IDEA how unappealing and utterly unsexy the job really is. I would like to thank Dr. Hussein for making my appointment after work as - pleasant is probably the wrong word, here - unheinous as it could be.
Actually, I had a surprisingly good day at work. Today I was one of the 'break people' or 'breakers' in VS. Of course, it's March Break, so there aren't any school groups and I refused to be strapped into armour or do 'medieval dancing' for the enjoyment of an ungrateful crowd, so VS has me for most of the week. Today consisted of being 'in charge' at least for short periods of time. I got to relieve the lead hands for their breaks and lunches which put me in a direct supervisory position above the people on the registers. This is sort of funny considering I have worked a total of two days on the register, only one of which was unsupervised. However, with the exception of a couple of hairy moments, the day went extremely fast and without too much trouble. The job of this particular job is that you get to move around a lot. When not breaking people, I was doing crowd control (this means I get to yell and we all know how much I enjoy doing that), direct and float around being useful. Even better, no one yelled at me. Huzzah !
Today is A&C's one year anniversary. It is sort of hard to believe that they've been married this long already... or even that there was a time when they weren't. Rick and I went over to their place on Saturday in order to help celebrate this festive ocasion. I dyed Carrie's hair red (hopefully it won't fade out right away like last time) and brought over dessert. Rick came over a bit later with a bottle of wine. We went for tasty food at one of the Firkin pubs (um, the Goose and Firkin, maybe?) and I was overjoyed to find REAL steak and kidney pie on the menu, not the wannabe steak and mushroom pie (which is also tasty, I must admit). We went back to their place for the lovely fruity cheesecake I'd brought and wine, enjoying Underworld at the same time. Unfortunately, and not really surprisingly, I got hit with a migraine and had to lie down for over an hour in order to let the medication do its job. That sort of spoiled the evening, but other than that episode, it was fun. Hopefully, they are doing fun things tonight, but they're probably just playing Everquest. ;)
Rick and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary of being together this coming Thursday. We'll be celebrating it on the bus, heading out to Peterborough where we will also jointly celebrate my Mother's Birthday. Today is actually her birthday, but I can't be out in the Petes until later in the week and Rick took a day off work in order to come too. Maybe all of us can mutually treat each other to a nice dinner out. :) I sent my mom a spring bulb platter from the excellent Peterborough flourist, Pammett's Flowers. This was the very first time I'd ordered flowers for anyone and it was terribly exciting. Well, not really, but there were just so many choices. I'm afraid I pooped out on the little card that accompanies the plants: "Happy birthday, Mom. Love Maya." How's that for original? Anyway, I didn't want to waste money on a bouquet of cut flowers or an arrangement. This way, the bulbs can be dried and planted in the garden next fall so that they can come up once again in the spring.
Happy Birthday, Mom !!
Actually, I had a surprisingly good day at work. Today I was one of the 'break people' or 'breakers' in VS. Of course, it's March Break, so there aren't any school groups and I refused to be strapped into armour or do 'medieval dancing' for the enjoyment of an ungrateful crowd, so VS has me for most of the week. Today consisted of being 'in charge' at least for short periods of time. I got to relieve the lead hands for their breaks and lunches which put me in a direct supervisory position above the people on the registers. This is sort of funny considering I have worked a total of two days on the register, only one of which was unsupervised. However, with the exception of a couple of hairy moments, the day went extremely fast and without too much trouble. The job of this particular job is that you get to move around a lot. When not breaking people, I was doing crowd control (this means I get to yell and we all know how much I enjoy doing that), direct and float around being useful. Even better, no one yelled at me. Huzzah !
Today is A&C's one year anniversary. It is sort of hard to believe that they've been married this long already... or even that there was a time when they weren't. Rick and I went over to their place on Saturday in order to help celebrate this festive ocasion. I dyed Carrie's hair red (hopefully it won't fade out right away like last time) and brought over dessert. Rick came over a bit later with a bottle of wine. We went for tasty food at one of the Firkin pubs (um, the Goose and Firkin, maybe?) and I was overjoyed to find REAL steak and kidney pie on the menu, not the wannabe steak and mushroom pie (which is also tasty, I must admit). We went back to their place for the lovely fruity cheesecake I'd brought and wine, enjoying Underworld at the same time. Unfortunately, and not really surprisingly, I got hit with a migraine and had to lie down for over an hour in order to let the medication do its job. That sort of spoiled the evening, but other than that episode, it was fun. Hopefully, they are doing fun things tonight, but they're probably just playing Everquest. ;)
Rick and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary of being together this coming Thursday. We'll be celebrating it on the bus, heading out to Peterborough where we will also jointly celebrate my Mother's Birthday. Today is actually her birthday, but I can't be out in the Petes until later in the week and Rick took a day off work in order to come too. Maybe all of us can mutually treat each other to a nice dinner out. :) I sent my mom a spring bulb platter from the excellent Peterborough flourist, Pammett's Flowers. This was the very first time I'd ordered flowers for anyone and it was terribly exciting. Well, not really, but there were just so many choices. I'm afraid I pooped out on the little card that accompanies the plants: "Happy birthday, Mom. Love Maya." How's that for original? Anyway, I didn't want to waste money on a bouquet of cut flowers or an arrangement. This way, the bulbs can be dried and planted in the garden next fall so that they can come up once again in the spring.
Happy Birthday, Mom !!
Thursday, March 11, 2004
"Troubles, like babies, grow larger with nursing." So reads the sign outside the Dovercourt Baptist Church. I know what it's trying to say, but I think it fails. It has the feel of being translated from a different language. Anyway, I couldn't get it out of my head all evening last night once I'd read it. I kept repeating it in my head as I rode the bus home last night and it was the first thing I said to Stew when I came up the stairs. It really doesn't put babies into a nice light at all, especially if you put emphasis on the 'like babies' part. Creepy.
Last night was my Yay-I-Quit membership party except we (all who attended) were all kind of out of it and not very partilicious. A bit disappointing, but it was nice to see people, especially Nick, whom I had not seen since before Christmas. I was sorry that A&C had not come out, but they, too, were kind of bleh. Anyway, we were at Insomnia a place that has amazing food and great drinks. Our waiter wasn't a barrel of laughs, but he mostly got the job done effectively.
I've been settling into my new positions at the ROM with very little difficulty, but there is so much to learn about the VS postion that I just hadn't ever thought about. My first day on cash went well and at the end of my day everything balanced. Lia was my trainer and since she has a hard time explaining things, I got to do a lot of practical learning, hands-on, etc. It's the best way to learn, though. I'm back in there on Sunday working cash, which is the first weekend of March Break. I'm on the cash that stays open the longest so that ought to be a challenge.
Today's school groups were very good, the kids all really well behaved and quite keen. I had one teacher lose her cool because she thought that everything was taking too long and they were supposed to be, "in a lab RIGHT NOW." I calmed her down and promised that their lab wasn't going to go anywhere and that whomever was leading it understands that sometimes the tours run late. She also was one of those people who thought she knew everything. The best class of the day was a grade eleven class from a christian highschool. They kids were a lot of fun and really got a kick out of my descriptions and stuff. When I referred to Ahkenaten's 'man-boobs', they killed themselves laughing and when I described him marrying his daughters adding, "Mmm, nothing like a little incest to keep a bloodline pure," they groaned and shuddered. They actually knew very little about Egypt not being a history class and that was kind of refreshing, especially since they were so receptive. Had I known, at the time, that they were from a christian school, I'd have talked a bit about the theories relating to who might have been pharoah during the Exodus, but I didn't know so I didn't say. Maybe that's for the best as yesterday I was cornered by a christian mother and her homeschooled children.
Tonight I will get paid, which will be a truly wonderful experience. I'm looking forward to it. I've been living so tight these past two weeks. Without the help of my mother and Rick I would not have eaten at all. Rick's been very generous, treating me to dinners everytime we've been out for the last three months. Soon I will be making more money and I'll hopefully be able to repay some of my debt, but I know that this paycheque is pretty well earmarked for bills and medication. There won't be much left to spend or save.
Finally, there are three significant things coming up in the next week. Firstly, my mother's birthday on the Ides of March. Secondly, A&C's first wedding anniversary also on the Ides. And thirdly, Rick and I will have been together for FOUR years as of the 18th. Wowsers. Go us, all of us ! And now I shall go home as my day here is done.
Last night was my Yay-I-Quit membership party except we (all who attended) were all kind of out of it and not very partilicious. A bit disappointing, but it was nice to see people, especially Nick, whom I had not seen since before Christmas. I was sorry that A&C had not come out, but they, too, were kind of bleh. Anyway, we were at Insomnia a place that has amazing food and great drinks. Our waiter wasn't a barrel of laughs, but he mostly got the job done effectively.
I've been settling into my new positions at the ROM with very little difficulty, but there is so much to learn about the VS postion that I just hadn't ever thought about. My first day on cash went well and at the end of my day everything balanced. Lia was my trainer and since she has a hard time explaining things, I got to do a lot of practical learning, hands-on, etc. It's the best way to learn, though. I'm back in there on Sunday working cash, which is the first weekend of March Break. I'm on the cash that stays open the longest so that ought to be a challenge.
Today's school groups were very good, the kids all really well behaved and quite keen. I had one teacher lose her cool because she thought that everything was taking too long and they were supposed to be, "in a lab RIGHT NOW." I calmed her down and promised that their lab wasn't going to go anywhere and that whomever was leading it understands that sometimes the tours run late. She also was one of those people who thought she knew everything. The best class of the day was a grade eleven class from a christian highschool. They kids were a lot of fun and really got a kick out of my descriptions and stuff. When I referred to Ahkenaten's 'man-boobs', they killed themselves laughing and when I described him marrying his daughters adding, "Mmm, nothing like a little incest to keep a bloodline pure," they groaned and shuddered. They actually knew very little about Egypt not being a history class and that was kind of refreshing, especially since they were so receptive. Had I known, at the time, that they were from a christian school, I'd have talked a bit about the theories relating to who might have been pharoah during the Exodus, but I didn't know so I didn't say. Maybe that's for the best as yesterday I was cornered by a christian mother and her homeschooled children.
Tonight I will get paid, which will be a truly wonderful experience. I'm looking forward to it. I've been living so tight these past two weeks. Without the help of my mother and Rick I would not have eaten at all. Rick's been very generous, treating me to dinners everytime we've been out for the last three months. Soon I will be making more money and I'll hopefully be able to repay some of my debt, but I know that this paycheque is pretty well earmarked for bills and medication. There won't be much left to spend or save.
Finally, there are three significant things coming up in the next week. Firstly, my mother's birthday on the Ides of March. Secondly, A&C's first wedding anniversary also on the Ides. And thirdly, Rick and I will have been together for FOUR years as of the 18th. Wowsers. Go us, all of us ! And now I shall go home as my day here is done.