Things that make me happy

Tonight I left the house for the first time since Monday. It was nice.

I've just laughed my way through the law school newspaper. It's by far the best paper they've put out all year. Funny how desperation brings out people's wildly entertaining sides (or brings out my easily-entertained side).

Sufjan Steven's Christmas album is so great. I just love it. I especially like "We're going to the country" because...wait for it... I'm going to the country! I'll be back out west in a week and two days. Rejoice!

My dad always used to make us Orange Juliuses at Christmas out of those giant navel oranges and ice cream. It was wonderful. Today I opened the fridge drawer and Diana had bought those same oranges. Tomorrow I'm buying ice cream. Sweet love in a blender, here I come.

It's Katie's birthday on Sunday! She'll be 19, so it's kind of a big deal. Jamie & I are taking her out for supper tomorrow and then we're going out to a comedy show. It should be fun. It's my only fun until Friday, so I'm going to enjoy it. Yay for Katie giving us a good excuse not to study!

There are so many people in my life who make me smile. I ran into one of them at school today while I was printing off my family law notes and talked to another on the phone. Hooray for people who sit and talk and commiserate with me! I like it. Hooray also for people who send me their notes when I kill my computer. Yay for them!

K, I've got to get back to studying now... I've taken a 3 hour break and I'm feeling a bit guilty, but it was necessary. Much love to everyone, and I'm super-excited to see all you folks back home. This is me blowing kisses all the way across the country (hugs don't travel as well). See you soon!

Revived

It is odd but worth noting that the essay I'm currently working on has revived the political, passionate, issue-oriented self that has lain dormant for most of this semester. I'm suddenly shedding the apathy and passive idealism that have gripped me and awaking again to the possibility of development - not perfection, but progress - through government and politics and all of those messy, inefficient, but gloriously present and practical structures. Suddenly I want to run for office and write speeches and meet with cabinet ministers and all that jazz. Maybe I will look into that Ottawa job this summer, after all.

End-of-term stress does funny things to me. Maybe it's the all-nighter.

on the other hand...

The new snow is pretty, even if I'm going crazy.

A week and five days...

I am a happy, rational person with pockets of complete insanity. Sadly, all of these pockets seem to explode at this time of year.

Bah

I hate that I have to walk to the library in the rain to get the book I need for my paper. I'm trying to look at the bright side and be thankful that the fact that it's raining means it's not -20 degrees outside. Right. Cheerful face on.

Does anyone else wonder how anyone got close enough to a gopher to take a picture?

Soundtrack of my Life

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
How it works:
1. Open your music library
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press Play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press Next
6. Don't lie and try to pretend all your music is cool.
_______________________________________________________

Challis had this on her website and I enjoyed it, so I'm going to copy her and do the same. Here you go... the soundtrack of my life (by random selection):

Opening Credits: “Rich Young Ruler” –Derek Webb
Waking Up: “No Roads Here” –Corb Lund Band
First Day At School: "Comin Home” –Dallas Green.
Falling In Love: "A Lack of Color” –Death Cab for Cutie
Fight Song: "Five Dollar Bill” –Corb Lund Band. I love it. Such a fight song.
Grad: "Let it Die” –Leslie Feist.
Life: "Gloomy Sunday” –Billie Holiday. Now this is just sad.
Mental Breakdown: "Too Much Food” –Jason Mraz. Hahaha! It's a Christmas breakdown!
Driving: "Daughter, Don’t You Marry No Guitar Picker” – Corb Lund Band
Flashback: "Brighter Than Sunshine" –Aqualung
Getting Back Together: "Ways We Burn” –Jason Darling
Birth of a Child: "Sleep All Day” –Jason Mraz. I guess it was a rough labour.
Final Battle: "My Little Drum” –Vince Guaraldi from A Charlie Brown Christmas. I actually think this would be a great war song. Lots of drums.
Funeral Song: "To the Workers of the Rock River Valley Region, I Have an Idea Concerning Your Plight” – Sufjan Stevens. This is totally appropriate. It's a very beautiful, in-between kind of song: a good song to walk out into the light to.
End Credits: “Love Is Not Against The Law” –Derek Webb. Perfect.

You'd think I listen to a lot of Mraz, Derek Webb and Corb Lund... oh well, I guess that's what makes it random.

Public Announcement #2

I've decided to drop out of law school and pursue a career as a prima ballerina. This is a long-cherished dream of mine and I have faith in my success for the following reasons:

1. I usually lose weight during exams. This may end up being the most stressful exam period ever, so by Christmas I should be closer to the ballerina weight bracket than I've been in years. (For this reason, I won't be dropping out until exams are over.)

2. After several years of growing out my hair, it at last all fits into a bun on my head. Perfect ballerina hair.

3. I'm pretty sure I'll be lovely in a tutu and tights.

These factors combined are certain to make for a stellar career with the National Ballet. My lack of balance, training and discipline aside, there's nothing stopping me. I look forward to seeing you all in the front row at my first performance. I think I've got a good shot at the lead in The Rite of Spring.

a;lwjegioaus

I was writing a letter to a friend during the break in my family law class this morning. It quickly degenerated into some stream-of-consciousness babble, posted here for your reading pleasure.

"The joy of my existence is a red, red scarf and a sweater to match. The couple sitting next to me are married. They are practically one person - one person in one program, one lawyer in two bodies. Law and love, perhaps, are not mutually exclusive after all. The scent of bubblegum permeates the room and I sigh as my professor begins to drone..."

"I can't grow up - not ready for life - let Christmas come, it's all my hope. Both light and life will shock me then and truth will shine on free."

Public Announcement

Once upon a time there was a mischievous sprite named Katie. Dark and lithe, she moved through the world like a shadow, seeing everything while remaining unseen. She hid her spirit well from prying eyes: those who passed by quickly and thoughtlessly were doomed to remain ignorant of its true nature, but those who took the time to wait and watch discovered dancing mirth, keen observation, and a sharp sense of humour. Katie was a girl worth knowing.

She was also evil.

Katie, I'm going to start posting on your blog. What goes around comes around, my friend.

I spent a large part of the weekend hanging out with a boy. No, I don't have a boyfriend. No, I'm not getting married in Fiji next week. And no, I'm not in a state of denial. His name is **** (call/email me if you really want to know). He's great. We have a lot of fun together. And that, for the moment, is where it stands. Do what you will with it.

I hope you're satisfied, Katie.

Love and Books

On chilly days when I'm beginning to remember just how cold winter is going to be, I love to make myself a cup of tea, wrap up in sweaters and slippers and blankets, and curl up by a heater. Ginger tea is especially good because (a) it warms me up, (b) there's a new yoga pose on each box, and (c) there are little fortune-cookie type sayings attached to each bag. Today's cup of gingery goodness informed me that "Where there is love, there is no question". Now, far be it from me to question the deep wisdom of a teamaker who has spent years perfecting her Sun Salutations, but... no questions? Really? Let's look into that. What if I were to love a guy who's totally unsuited to me? What if I loved a guy my parents hated? What if I loved a guy who didn't love me? Wouldn't there be a lot of questions in those situations? I can't imagine that there wouldn't be at least a little internal strife. I recognize that I'm pretty ignorant when it comes to love, and there's lots I don't know, but all of the knowledge I've gleaned seems to indicate that love tends to complicate things, not simplify them.

Just a thought.


And now for something completely different...

I love the written word. Love it. Passionately. When I was a kid, I spent most of my time reading. I preferred books to people. To my shame, that's the truth. I still love to read, so much so that I don't usually let myself start a new book during the semester because I know I won't get any work done until the book is finished. Sadly, this passion doesn't extend to legal cases and academic writing. I'm beginning to wonder whether some strange process beginning in late undergrad or professional school and intensifying throughout Master's and PhD programs kills people's ability to write interesting and comprehensible stuff. Judges, professors, law students, and government workers are some of the worst writers I've ever encountered. It's truly depressing that this is the world I might end up in.

I think I'm going to start writing stories. My roommate has pointed out that I come up with tons of bizarre and wildly improbable explanations for pretty much everything that happens to us in the course of the day. I think what she's implying is that I should stop pestering her with absurd suggestions for why someone hasn't called (for example, "he's probably secretly got a harem in Lichtenstein and is busy trying to keep the peace among his seven wives and 54 kids") and find another way of exorcising the possibilities (and impossibilities) that are constantly running through my head. Someone else recently encouraged me to harness those creative energies and take writing more seriously. I think I will. I'll keep you all updated.

Bloom

Nance wandered through the halls of possibility and found herself in a dark corner. She was afraid of these people who spoke of what they did not know and gossipped about things that had yet to be. She feared that they would speak something into being before it had time to grow into the world; that, premature and undeveloped, it would die of fright and exposure at the first careless word.

I have been one acquainted with the night

Robert Frost's writing is so lovely.

I love being up at night when everyone else is asleep and the house is still.

I watched The Science of Sleep tonight with some new friends and totally loved it. If you've got an open mind and want to brim over with happiness, I recommend it.

Life is so good and interesting and exciting.

On another note, I need to get a lot of schoolwork done and I think I'll need supernatural help to gather my wits, get my self-control going and get it done, so pray for me!

Praise God for small things... and not so small...

Celebrate! I've finally let go of a fixation that's been dragging me down for ages. It's wonderful to wake up to the fact that no matter how much I wish for something, that doesn't make it true. It's even more wonderful to realize that the world is better as it is. The truth really does set us free. God is so good in helping us to grow up and move on.

My song of the week is "Jackie Jackson" by Franz Ferdinand. It's hilarious. Go to http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/collective/watchandlisten#playlist to hear it.

I am a bad blogger, and that's the truth. In my defence, I spent 6 days away from the computer over Thanksgiving. Instead of checking my email and doing homework, I spent time hanging out with my family and wandering aimlessly through airports. On that note, the Person of the Week is Sarah, who works for my dad and books my tickets. She manages to upgrade my tickets to business class about 75% of the time. It's wonderful.

As for stuff I've been thinking about lately, there's so much that it's hard to know where to begin. I've been thinking a lot about poverty and inequality and the things I take for granted in society that aren't necessarily necessary or good. And I've been thinking about how we as people (or maybe it's just me) tend to think of other people as means rather than ends: objects that we use or get rid of in order to reach our goals rather than persons who deserve to be known, loved and served in and of themselves. So many things that I hate in our world stem directly from this problem: prostitution, pornography, abortions, rape, child abuse, and (on the less intense but still heartbreaking end of things) broken relationships, people stuck in jobs for which they're completely unsuited, jealousy, impatience, coldness and lack of unity. But how do you build a society based on love and respect? It's pretty hard to enforce.

I need to go to bed... more later.

Sunshine on a rocky ledge

I went climbing outdoors today for the first time. I love it. A couple of guys I recently met graciously agreed to teach me, so we headed out to some rocks on the edge of the ocean and went bouldering for the afternoon. It was great. There really aren't words.

Stress vs. Rest

Yesterday I realized that I've really settled in. The realization was triggered when I found myself dancing the polka in the kitchen with one of my roommates and enthusiastically belting out "I've Got the Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy" at the same time. God is so good to me. He's given me rest in so many ways; sometimes I feel guilty because of the absurd abundance in my life. I hope that this stage is preparation for something; I pray that at some point in my life I'll serve a purpose other than to sit around, study, and attempt to entertain Kim. The question I have to ask is this: is it wrong for me to enjoy life so much? Am I culpable for having such an easy time of it? Is the lack of strife in my life a sign of God's blessing or a sign that I'm simply not encountering reality? Is it possible to be at rest without being complacent?
I suspect that the work will start building up in about two weeks and I won't have time to ask these questions anymore, so if you've got any answers, hit me quick.

Argh

I have no patience for people who refuse to deal with reality.

Maybe I'm one of those people.

Rambling

I'm writing from a new refuge, a large room with angled walls and tiny, arched windows. A narrow, curling staircase leads from the second floor up to the attic that I share with my lovable roommates; this out-of-the-wayness of the space, combined with an abundance of unusual corners and curious nooks, gives me the feeling that I'm Anne of Windy Poplars, or perhaps a less confined Rapunzel, sending secret messages from my eyrie to the ones I love.

This is the last day before school begins in earnest: the introductions were covered last week and tomorrow is the day the hammer falls. There's a saying in law school, old but true (or so I'm told), that in the first year they scare you to death, in the second year they work you to death, and in the third year they bore you to death. The description of first year was fairly accurate; we'll see whether the cliche holds true for second year as well.

I find that I've lost the habit of settling into a place. My things are strewn around the room, not because I like chaos but because I'm beginning to feel that it's hardly worth taking the time to find a place for anything. In a few months, it will all go back into the suitcases and boxes and move with me to the next place. If I plan on remaining a nomad for a few more years I'm going to have to get rid of some of my books.

moving song

packing it up and taking it over
slinging a slinky over my shoulder
running away in a fresh direction
tasting the world in a new confection

and everything is new
and everything is bright
i'm looking at all the worldness, brightness,
singing this song of mine

nothing is old in a world ever young
tasting this song on the brink of my tongue
the bridge might be long but i like standing high
swinging in blue at the top of the sky

and everything is blue
and everything's in sight
i'm taking in all the worldness, lightness,
singing this song of mine

with the love that i'll meet and the love that i've known

i go by myself but i don't go alone

so i dance and i laugh on the road ever new

and the wind sings to me and so i sing to you

and everything is true
and everything is right
as i'm looking for all the worldness, brightness,
singing this song of mine

A Near-Death Experience and the Chicken that Made it all Worthwhile

DEATH LOOKS OVER MY SHOULDER
I just about died today. Well, that may be an overdramatization, but I came within 7 feet of being hit by a woman with a seemingly pathological inability to yield. I also just about fell off my bike while adjusting my sleeves (my hands were cold, okay?). I'm beginning to think that a helmet might not be a bad idea, no matter how stupid it looks.

SUDOKU ENTANGLES ME IN ITS EVIL NET
I started playing sudoku yesterday to pass the time (most of the lawyers were out of the office and I had nothing to do). I completed my first puzzle today. I'm hooked. I love the challenge. I love the distraction. I love the look of the neatly gridded squares, with half-revealed numerical secrets peeking out at me. Maybe it fills the relational void or something: my life has no great mystery, so I fill it with sudoku. It makes sense in a sick sort of way.

GREAT SCOTT! THE CHICKEN'S AMAZING!
I bet you folks out there didn't know that Carla (of carlasblogspot.blogspot.com fame) is secretly a master chef. It's true. All summer she's been hiding her skills and inwardly mocking my sad attempts at cookery. Tonight, however, her secret was revealed. I came home (perhaps unexpectedly) to discover her making dill-lemon-lime chicken, corn on the cob (seasoned with her special sauce), cucumber salad and pasta. I begged some supper off of her and was nourished in ways I'd previously only imagined. In gratitude I will now toot the Carla horn wherever I go. Get her to cook for you. If it requires a high-speed car chase and mutiny against the Crown, get her to cook for you. You won't regret it.

My very own infomercial

I spent some time today at the bike shop waiting for a new wheel. A little part of me died when the repair guy asked me whether I'd been curb stomping or something and I had to tell him that I actually tripped over the bike coming out of the shed. Oh well; humility is good for the soul. I was griping to myself about the money - the whole point of the bike is that it's cheap and low-maintenance (kind of like me) - when I came to a sudden realization: it cost less to replace the wheel on my bike than it would to fill the tank of a small car. And the bike shop guys are way more informative (and more attractive) than your average Honda dealer. The conclusion is clear: everyone should ride a bike. Bicyclists save their own resources (think cash) and are way easier on the earth (think fuel consumption and exhaust production). It's slimming. It's fun. People honk at you all friendly-like (or not). Granted, it's not practical or even possible in a place like Saskatchewan for the better part of the year. But for all you sun-starved Canadians out there, it's a great way to increase your vitamin D intake in those all-too-short months of summer. No more SAD for you! (And if you don't know about Seasonal Affectation Disorder, you're obviously from Arizona or California.) So go get a bike. It does a body good.

On the other hand...

I'm irritated by high school romances. This may be a sign that I'm a tired old hag, but I can't help it. When one is over 20 and chronically single, it's aggravating to watch a movie that implies that even the hopelessly inept ought to have found true love by graduation

Whiskers on kittens...

In order to counteract the generally angry tone of the last few posts, I thought I'd make a list of my favourite things. As I'm spending the weekend largely on my own, there will be a lot of reading materials on this list. Not that I'm annoyed or anything.

My Favourite Things
1. The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery. The best book ever. Not so much for the writing - she's definitely written more polished stories and there are many more accomplished writers out there - but for the dream it embodies. I want to be Valancy.
2. Far From the Madding Crown by Thomas Hardy. At heart I am Bathsheba Everdene.
3. T.S. Eliot. That Nobel Prize was no accident. Same to J. M. Coetzee.
4. Pablo Neruda. I was reminded of him when I saw one of his poems on another blogpage recently. I remember reading the "I do not love you as..." sonnet when I was about 15 and being completely absorbed in it.
5. Challis, for staying in the city and hanging out with me this weekend. You rock.
6. Sailing. I went for the first time a few weeks ago and I loved it. Now all I've got to do is get over that fear of water...
7. Kandahar. The word, not the place. It sounds like a name for heaven. Every time I read about the desperate things that happen there it makes me feel like paradise has been lost again.
8. My bike. I'm in better shape this summer than I've ever been in my life.
9. Apple pie. Specifically, making apple pie and doing a good job. I made it on my own for the first time this last week and it was fantastic, if I do say so myself.
10. Prairie nights, out of the city, away from the yard, just looking up and glorying in the gorgeousness. I've never had a reason to be afraid of the dark.

C'est tout for now.

Rah.

I am not a school spirit person. That's the hard truth, and I'm not ashamed of it. I never liked school sports, school clothes, or school in general. One of the best things about university, and especially professional school, is that no one keeps track of how many "spirit points" I've won or lost for my house by participating or refusing to participate in inane activities. However, every once in a while I feel called on to support my college by helping out with less inane, more friendly-like activities. Case in point: about a month ago I volunteered to host a BBQ in my city for past, present and future Dal Law students who might be in the area. They're putting them on all across the country and this seemed like a good way to be part of that big happy family that is Dal Law. I may have had ulterior motives - it's always nice to meet new people - but in general, I was doing this out of a love for my fellow man and a general desire to be useful.

The first hint that things might not turn out so well was the announcement that the BBQ would take place on August long weekend (a.k.a., this weekend). My response was along the lines of "What?!? Who plans a school activity for the last free long weekend in summer?!?" However, I deferred to the better judgment of those in the know, who claimed that this was the weekend that worked out best for the greatest number of people. They also didn't respond to my attempts to reschedule. Great. So I rearranged my plans and decided that I would stay in the city instead of going home to my family or heading off with some friends. Note that I've been home only one time for two days since Christmas and that once I fly out to Halifax in September, I probably won't see most of these friends until next May. But whatever - I offered up my social and familial life to what I was hoping would be the greater good.

Well, to make a long story short, no one RSVP'd and no one showed up. It was me and a few friends who I had (providentially) asked to come over when I began to suspect that this was not going to turn out to be the happening social engagement of the year. I'm not surprised - it is the long weekend and it was a miserable day for a BBQ. I don't even blame anyone: no one told them they could maybe let me know if they weren't going to come. For all I know, they probably didn't even know this was going on. Sadly, I wasn't in charge of communication for the event. I am ticked off, though. And I've decided that the embargo on school spirit is officially and irrevocably in force. I will no longer take part in events controlled from halfway across the country by some student hopped up on school spirit. It's not my thing, it's never been my thing, and I'm done with it for good. And if I ever have control of the mass media, I will send out a message to all of the sadly misinformed people out there that long weekends are not to be sullied with school events. So there.

And when's the last time he poured wine into such a small cup?

Nance wandered down interminable aisles of peanut butter and Minit Tapioca. Unexpected encounters with reality had brought her to a crisis of sorts: the revelation that life could be so much better and so much worse than the soporific stumble from bed to office to kitchen to bed. People suffer and crumble and fall for no good reason; justice is meted out by gossiping lawyers and careless judges and counsel's advice may rest on the inconvenience of another three hour drive. The courtroom on a reserve up north will always be full and unpayable fines for petty crimes will meet their match in shallow and endless violence. She herself is little more than a commodity, a tool; "mentoring" is just another term for whetting the blade. The question of the moment is in whose hands she will place herself to be wielded; for what is she willing to be broken?

Falling Glory and Unexpected Grace

There are fabulous northern lights tonight, unearthly pink and green darts falling down from heaven and dancing back up. I make Carla come outside with me to watch and we discover that the neighbours are also standing in the street, looking up in awe. I talk to them for the very first time, despite the fact that I've lived here for nearly two years. And I praise my God for being so good.

Every time I see northern lights I remember being about four years old and sitting in the back of my parents' car as we drove home from my grandparents' place. As I was falling asleep I looked out of the window and saw a new splendour pouring down from the sky. Good memories seem to lead into one another; somehow, that recollection of unexpected beauty puts me in mind of a late-night ice cream run with Jasmine and Challis in the middle of the Ottawa winter. We were walking home from the Mac when we heard a jazz tune pouring out of the third-story window in an old white house. All we could see of the mysterious musicians was the tip of an upright base sticking out of the window, but we stopped for the impromptu concert, sitting on a snow-covered ledge. The music floated down along with the giant white mid-winter snowflakes through the lamplit night.

...and there was a little quote, and there was a big quote, and all were the wiser for it...

"It's better to make people laugh than to make them jealous."
*Comment on Jen Gilbertson's blog.

"So, to become a human being and a Christian...is not to separate ourselves and work to become holy in a space that is defined and protected by religious convention; nor is it to seek for perfection by ordinary social or political activism. It is to be present with Christ in the world. It is to be there in God's name and God's presence in both confusion and order alike, standing with Christ, standing in that place in the world where God has chosen to be. And this is not a place of power or influence; it changes the world not by force but by patient endurance, by making room for the truth of God's alarming compassion to be there in the midst of everything
*Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury
Sermon Sunday 5th February 2006
Check out more: www.archbishopofcanterbury.org

My life, sans subtitles

QUEBEC
I had a great time and learned a lot. I even had a few stellar moments in stores in Quebec and Montreal where the clerks spoke French to me after they'd heard me say salut. I liked it. Good things about Quebec: Quebec City, poutine at the Cantine D'Amour in Trois-Pistoles, jazz at the Clarindon, Simon's, French, and the Fleuve.

EN ROUTE
I got to the train station at 1:50 AM Quebec time on Saturday and finally arrived here at 10:30 PM Saskatchewan time. In the meantime, I missed a train, thought I missed a flight (the worst feeling ever is thinking you've missed the last flight home), got to visit my dad for a couple of hours, read En Route magazine cover to cover, pondered E.E.Cummings and slept for about 3 hours in total. Sleep deprivation and near-hysteria made for a hilarious evening with Emily and Megan when I finally arrived in...

SASKATCHEWAN
I love Saskatchewan. I love the sun. I love that the rain is welcome. I love that I'm going home this weekend. I love the wind and the space and the pickup trucks. I love listening to the Dixie Chicks and Ron Sexsmith. I love getting letters from my boys out in the bush and having internet access again. I love my house and my girls and... wait on it... I love my job.

THE JOB
That's right, I love my job. I, the reluctant law student, am working in a law office and loving it. Granted, I've only been here for three days, but so far it's totally great. Everyone's nice and I'm working on real issues and they don't make things too hard for me and I'm just generally thrilled with it all. Maybe I won't have to join the circus after all.

AND NOW...
I'm actually kind of looking forward to getting back to Halifax in the fall. I don't want to be there right now, but I think I'll be ready for it when it comes and even a little happy to return to school. Who would've thought? I guess time really does work miracles - or blots out the memory. Either way, I'm glad that I'm happy about it. And I'm glad I don't have to go back quite yet.

So that's my life. This weekend, I'll be having a rockin' good time at the Frenchman River Valley Gospel Music Jamboree (yep, you heard right) working in the kitchen and catching up with everyone from home. I'm so thankful for all the sugary goodness in my life right now and I wish you all the same.

9 days left...

I have 9 days left at Trois-Pistoles and a little time today, so I thought I'd better blog again before I leave and forget the place altogether. I am admittedly beginning to like the town a lot now that it's a little warmer. It's a place worth describing once the rain stops. The town is Shaunavon-sized, with about 3500 residents and more bars than churches. There is, in fact, only one church: an immense stone cathedral in the Baroque style. The interior is decorated with faux-marble pillars, gilded arches, and an overabundance of cherubs. The most impressive element of the exterior is three enormous silver spires, featured prominently on almost every postcard in the town. The church has stood for over a century and the story goes that it was completed by means of a deal with the devil. I always think of legends and myths as something confined to places like Europe and Asia, where the same groups of people have lived in the same places for vast stretches of time. Nevertheless, they have legends here, and lost goblets, dark horses and diabolic pacts are intertwined with fur traders, Jesuit missions, and European warships in the collective memory. It's amazing to a prairie girl like me to live in a town this small that has been settled for so long.

There are lots of other great things about Trois Pistoles. There are good hiking trails in the woods and the Fleuve (the St. Laurence) is absolutely beautiful. The Cafe L'Essentiel has great coffee, the Cantine D'Amour makes the best poutine I've ever eaten, and it's just a short bike ride to the shore. It's great to be back in a small town and I'm getting fat on all the good food my hostess has prepared for us. Most importantly, I can speak a little French, read a little more, and smile and nod at the right places. This is a vast improvement from five weeks ago, so I'm satisfied. I hope eventually to be much, much more capable than I am at present, but it's okay for now.

The bad taste of exams is wearing off and I'm starting to think that returning to school won't be so bad... but tomorrow my marks come back. A month ago I was resigned to the fact that they won't be what I want, but now it's all I can do to keep myself from hoping... and hoping... and hoping... that they're better than I thought. I just want to get them back and have it over with so I can deal with the blow, wipe law school out of my mind for a few months and enjoy the summer.

I can't wait to get back to the prairies! The sun and dryness are completely welcome to me. Whenever I whine about the heat and the lack of rain, just remind me that I'm heading back to the coast in the fall and will have my fill of damp and cold. I'm so excited to get back to my girls and our house - it's been too long. I want to make this a very seize-the-day kind of summer, full of memorable moments and blessed randomness. I can't shake the realization that this might be the last time for a long time that I spend more than a couple weeks on the prairies, so instead of letting the feeling depress me I'm going to let it spur me on to see as much as possible of the people and places who count. Hopefully it works out.

Well, I'm done indulging my English craving. Love to all and I'll see you soon!

A third of the way into my immersion experience, I'm taking a moment to blog before I lose all of my English (without gaining any French, I suspect). What's up? Avec moi, I mean. Well, I've been living with a fantastic family and I've got a great roommate. The first week, the biggest problem was that Lisette (ma dame-hotesse) is an absolutely incredible cook (as apparently are all of the women here - I think it's a small-town thing) who serves gigantic portions and I didn't (and still don't) know enough French to say, "No thanks, I'm full" or "Do you think I could have a smaller helping?" or "Actually, I think I'll skip dessert today" without sounding very rude. Let's just say that it's a good thing I'm walking and biking everywhere. The first week was great because we were permitted to use as much English as we needed/wanted and there were only 20 students. Then the real immersion began. Suddenly on Friday night the town was overwhelmed with 280 anglophones over the age of 18, all forbidden to speak English (or, for that matter, Latin - no loophole there even if I remembered enough to take advantage of it). The mad rush for rental bikes began (I'm so glad I got mine last week), the flirting began (what's with the summer romance thing? It doesn't appeal to me) and the Virus de Trois-Pistoles set in. I'm actually pretty sure that we've got our very own virus here. I had it on the weekend, my roommate has it now, and students, professors, animateurs and host families are down with it. It's like bronchitis with vertigo. To be honest, I may be the source of this bizarre mutation - it appears to be a combination of the pseudo-mono I had in February with the inner-ear infection from final exams. It may have been incubating in me all along, just testing itself out every once in a while, and only with this new crowd of people has it really reared its ugly head. So if a strange new flu epidemic comes along, I apologize to the world and I lay full blame on the stress of law school.

When not battling the Plague, I've been undergoing a love-hate relationship with school. It's like returning to kindergarten... fantastic in many ways, but also a little difficult. It's nice that they plan activities for us morning, noon, and night (and no, that's not an exaggeration), but it's a little unsettling to realize that the activities and classes and so forth are actually mandatory. I mean, they take attendance and count demerits if we're late. It's a bizarre shift from law school, where they assume that we're old enough to take responsibility for our own education and that we can deal with the consequences on our own without their help. I'm chafing a bit under the presence requirements - I missed a day because I was sick and it counts as an absence and with three absences I don't get a certificate... you get the idea. Oh well, that's life and it's good for me to have to follow inane rules for a while, I guess. The funny thing is, I would be on time, attend class, and go to the activvities anyways and do it with a much better will if it wasn't all mandatory. I guess it's human nature to hate doing what you've got to do.

Speaking of which, I need to go take part in - get this - a mandatory soiree. Like, a mandatory party. At the school, granted, but really... mandatory? A party? If you can't make a party fun enough that people come of their own accord, maybe you should consider doing something else with your time.

I'll write again after my mandatory party.

Over

Exams are over, my packing's nearly done, and my centre of balance has left the left lobe of my brain and returned to its rightful place (I had an ear infection last week). Life is good. It's sad to be picking up and leaving yet again, but I'm excited for the change and looking forward to seeing a few different places before I return here in the fall. It'll be interesting to be back on the prairies and see how I've changed in relation to my first world. My mom came out here to help me pack and being around her in this place is making me realize that I really am starting to grow up and define my world in terms of myself - what I want and think and choose - instead of in terms of what I've always known. It's kind of interesting. I realize that this is a point that most people come to in junior high, but what can I say? I'm a late bloomer. I never had the self-defining rebellion or whatever it is that brings a lot of people fully into themselves. Instead I moved across the country and tried a new life on for size. And, you know, it fits. It needs some adjusting, but by and large it's okay. I may keep it; I may not. It's nice, though, to know that I can make it for myself. And now, with that incomprehensible rambling over, I'm going to bed. Sleep sweet.

Ah, Pemberley

I am completely besotted with Mr. Darcy. Yes, I have been watching the new Pride and Prejudice. Yes, I do wish with all my heart and soul that I was Elizabeth Bennett. And yes, I am a hopeless romantic (although, as Jasmine has pointed out, not without a cynical side). For the sweet love, though, people, how long is it going to take before I meet a guy who likes me and I like and actually works out? I'm feeling a little hopeless here. And I'm tired. So goodnight.

The joy of doing something I don't like

I'm mediocre. I'm coming to terms with that fact. I won't get exceptional marks on my exams; if I can scrape by with an A- I'll be thrilled. This is a new and somewhat anomalous stage in my life. I'm not sure if it's healthy or not; I'm not sure how long it will last. Hopefully the sensation remains strong enough to get me through exams without panicking but not strong enough to let me through without studying.

If only I cared.

It makes me think...

79 people died and 160 were injured in a suicide attack on a Baghdad mosque last Friday. There's something to be said for living in a country where a death toll of 8 is considered one of the worst massacres in national history.

One down, four to go

Nance stares pensively at the computer screen as she counts the cases in her mind. Jones v. Hart, BG Checo v. BC Hydro, Kapchuk v. whoever-it-was; an intermittent stream of names - cases and courts, plaintiffs and magistrates, terms of art and terms of endearment - runs between her temples, seemingly draining out of the rational lobe of her brain and settling into a low, dull ache. Her knees are stiff; her back is stiff; her brain is stiff. She catches faint whiffs of herself from time to time; personal hygiene has never seemed less important. Romance? Not likely. Her love life is limited to the occasional strain of Michael Buble mellowly emanating from the kitchen. The sound of a growling stomach is her one chance to escape the living room and take a half-hour away from the computer to make a meal. She blesses her mother for worrying that she's not eating well: trips to the grocery store and delicious hours spent preparing well-balanced meals can be written off as the acts of a dutiful daughter, rather than the desperate graspings of an unmotivated student.

Twitterpated

For the record, I'm not in love. I'm not even twitterpated - although apparently everyone else is. Seriously, folks, what's with the spring fever? No, in all honesty, I'm very, very happy for everyone who's finding someone. And you know who you are.

More distractions...

I'm still studying exclusion clauses, so here are some more quizzes.

You Are 22% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

You Are a Coy Flirt

You may not seem like you're flirting, but you know exactly what you're doing. You draw people in, very calculatingly, without them even knowing. Subtle and understated, you know how to best leverage your sex appeal. A sexy enigma, you easily become an object of obsession.

What Kind of Flirt Are You?

Your Quirk Factor: 49%

You're a pretty quirky person, but you're just normal enough to hide it. Congratulations - you've fooled other people into thinking you're just like them!

How Quirky Are You?

Snickers

Nutty and gooey - you always satisfy.

What Kind of Candy Are You?

You Are Fall Flowers

Beautiful yet often forgotten.

What Part of Fall Are You?

You Are Animal

A complete lunatic, you're operating on 100% animal instincts. You thrive on uncontrolled energy, and you're downright scary. But you sure can beat a good drum. "Kill! Kill!"

The Muppet Personality Test

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you're told that you're loved. You'd like to your lover to think you are optimistic and happy. You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage something you've always wanted... though you haven't really thought about it. In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Distractions...

I'm supposed to be studying contracts but I'm doing personality quizzes instead. They're strangely revealing. You'll notice, too, that they never point out the flaws. For instance, instead of telling me I'm cold, they say I'm withdrawn. Instead of informing me that I'm irritatingly combative, they tell me that my mind is a weapon. Oh well, I like it and it makes me feel good about myself to pretend that it's all true. And that was another 30 minutes I didn't have to spend trying to figure out what the Supreme Court of Canada thinks about standard form agreements and exclusion clauses. I recommend the quizzes.

My favourite is the socks. I'm not sure about the accuracy of the others.

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant. Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle. You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs. For you, comfort and calm are very important. You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection. You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

You Should Get a PhD in Liberal Arts (like political science, literature, or philosophy)

You're a great thinker and a true philosopher. You'd make a talented professor or writer.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

Who Should Paint You: Gustav Klimt

Sensual and gorgeous, you would inspire an enchanting portrait.. With just enough classic appeal to be hung in any museum!

What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait?

You Are Socks!

Cozy and warm... but easily lost. You make a good puppet.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times. Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness! Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

You Belong in Amsterdam

A little old fashioned, a little modern - you're the best of both worlds. And so is Amsterdam. Whether you want to be a squatter graffiti artist or a great novelist, Amsterdam has all that you want in Europe (in one small city).

What European City Do You Belong In?

News

I don't know if I've written about curling: if not, I curl sporadically on Wednesday nights. I'm terrible, but it's a lot of fun and the people are nice. So nice, in fact, that one of the guys asked me out. He's nice and I'm going. So that's my news.

I like it when people actually ask me out instead of indicating that they're interested but never getting around to doing anything about it.

"Take off your pants!"

Went to Domus last night and had so much fun. Well-deserved fun, too: I've hardly left the three-block radius surrounding my apartment for several weeks. It's almost worth not going out for a month and a half because I appreciate it so much more when I finally do. It was a great night to be at Domus: some of the guys from school have a blues band and they rock. I think they're going by "Amir and the Twerps". If by some strange coincidence they're playing in a town near you, OR, (LARGE HINT HERE) if you come and visit me some weekend when they're playing in town, you should check them out. They're great. Next year I plan to spend significantly more time going out to listen to live music and much less time dancing to tired, generic, recorded tunes: it's a completely different level of enjoyment.

In between sets we were all treated (i.e., forcefully exposed) to "Speech Night": speeches from the folks running for the Domus exec. It wasn't much of a competitive event - they worked it out so everyone was running for a different position and there was no competition between themselves. It's all warm and fuzzy: they can get hammered without fear of losing their spots. And hammered they were. The Domus exec speeches over the years have mutated into a "take off your pants!" fest, with the crowd calling for partial (or full) nudity and the candidates only too happy to oblige. The people running tend to be male exhibitionists, so there isn't too much in the way of forced exploitation. Yes, folks, these are the lawyers, politicians, and community leaders of the future. Get your incriminating photos while you still can: there's plenty of blackmail material to be had.

The World's Awry

I've had a strange, angst-ridden afternoon. I have the feeling that something's not right somewhere and I'm a little concerned about where or what that might be. I'm hoping it's hanger or hormones, but I've been praying for everyone I can think of all the same. Here's hoping you're all okay and I'm just strange!

Haphazard Wanderings

*I'm tired of being the girl who doesn't get the guy because she's too busy trying not to make a fool of herself. Unfortunately, I'm not really sure how to remedy this. I'm open to suggestions.

*I'm looking forward to spending some time at home: not in Saskatoon, although that'll be fun too, but really at home. I can't wait to go walking at night and look up and see all of the stars from one end of the sky to the other. I love the country. There's never enough time to spend looking at the apple trees while they're blooming or at the stars while they're shining (I know it's cheesy, but you know it's true).

*I think I'm going to use a bike as my main mode of transportation this summer. I'm looking forward to it. Maybe I'll actually have a tan by August. I'll probably have to wear a helmet, though... I hadn't thought of that...

*Jo, how'd it go with the movie and your apartment and all that? I'm curious. You should blog and let us know.

*I saw a very pregnant girl today with a cute husband and an adorable little boy. She was around my age and looked so happy - I wished I was her. And then I remembered something:

*My new resolution is to be like my grandma. She was single until she was 29 or 30, which was unusual for her time. She really used those years: got a professional degree, enjoyed her job and was good at it, took the opportunity to travel with a close friend, and generally made the most of the time she had. And then when she met my grandpa she'd done a lot of cool stuff and was ready to settle down and raise my dad and my aunt. She's a great lady to the present day and I hope to be like her.

My other grandma wasn't single quite as long, but she had a similar story: spent time on her own, worked and loved her job, had a great time with friends, kept up really close ties with her family, and finally settled down with my grandpa to a long and happy life together. When I was at their 50th wedding anniversary a few years ago I realized that this is what I want: not a career, although I have no problem with spending a few years working and doing a good job of it, but a family and a life in a community where people know each other and recognise and celebrate their interdependence. It's a good life. I'm not sure how I'm going to manage it, with the farm economy going down and good country boys running short, but I'm looking for a way. We'll see if I stick to the course.

Pathos is oozing from my pores

You know what's sad? My C&C group is always sending out mass emails being like, "Hey! There's a farewell party for this person!" and I'm always like, you know, I'd love to go, but I don't know who that person is. And I don't know who any of the other people are. And for all of your pretend welcoming, you don't want a stranger at your place when you're saying goodbye to a friend. So I never go. And then they sent out an email about a guy I've actually met, and I'd like to go because I think he's cool and I didn't even know he was leaving, so it would be nice to say goodbye, but how creepy is it for this person you've met only once or twice to show up at your farewell? And I won't know any of the other people there. So he'll just leave and I'll probably never know where or why he went. And it makes me sad.

Satis

I'm trying to write a legal memo for my research and writing class and I'm getting more angst-ridden all the time about the fact that a memo is supposed to be concise and free of unnecessary details but my instructor wants it to be around 20 pages long and to cite multiple authorities even though I could write it in 12 pages with reference to one case from the Supreme Court of Canada that covers everything. I'm beginning to suspect that law school is one long, drawn-out exercise in futility.

Enough complaining. I'm going to write something happy and quite possibly sappy. If you're feeling scornful or critical today, I recommend that you not read the following. It'll take me down a notch in your esteem and I certainly don't want that. If you're going to read any further, I ask you to suspend your disbelief, have faith for a moment in romance and idealism, and simply enjoy the dream.


You may have noticed that the blog title refers to two entities. This is the story of Phoenix and Nance, not of Nance all by her lonesome. She's caught glimpses of him from time to time: seen his eyes in another's face, heard his heart speak in another's voice. It is, for the moment, enough. Satis. "And now these three remain..." Faith she has, hope she has, and the third she knows will come. The smile that caught her eye and the song that caught her heart speak to a hope that a star will fall for her. And there will be a brilliant moment when the drink is suddenly stronger and life is unfathomably sweeter, a moment when the morning sun comes through the window and her heart opens to find itself full.

Home and school

Well, it's official: I'm coming back to the land of open skies and country music. I officially accepted a job today and I'm extremely excited to move back in with my girls and come a little closer to home. I'm so looking forward to the summer: the heat (remind me of this when I start to complain), the blue skies, the time spent with people who know me well and the freedom from school.

I'm struggling with the idea of a calling. I honestly can't say that I feel called to law. I don't love the classes, I'm frustrated with the misapplication of ideals, and I have no passionate interest in anything that I can see turning into a legal career. I often wish I could go back to English or move forward a few years to the time when I'll be doing graduate work in something else - literature or maybe theology. I'm trying to be practical and to appreciate the benefits of law school: I'm learning lots of things that apply directly to the world around me, I'm being forced to learn self-discipline, and presumably things will get more interesting next year when I can start to choose my own classes. And yet I still find myself wishing I was doing something else.

Maybe it's just the time of year: the crack-down has begun and I wish I'd worked harder in the last six months. Then again, maybe I'm in for a few dry years. And that's okay: sometimes it's necessary to spend a significant amount of time doing something you're not passionate about. My dad, for instance, spent 20 years farming before he got into a career he really felt called to. I just dread the thought of getting sucked into the corporate law world - taking the easy way out and heading straight into a padded office as soon as I finish my articles. I really hope it doesn't happen. On the other hand, if it does happen I hope it will be because I've found an interest and developed a passion for it, not because the pensions are good and the work is there. We'll see. I'm intensely jealous of Megan and Ole with their T.S. Eliot seminars and multivarious literature classes, but I guess I'll suck it up and try to remember that I came here to learn a practical way that I can make a difference in the world.

Blood and tears...

I gave blood today. I expected to feel very good about the whole situation. After all, people need blood. It keeps them alive. It's kind of necessary. And, you know, I have more than I need. So what's a little needle on my side with a life on theirs? After a long discussion with myself over my discomfort with the idea of having my blood sucked out of my body (I actually had to tell one girl who was telling me all about the good things about it that I needed to not discuss it any further or I'd lose my nerve), I decided to do the right thing and donate. Plus, the law school was competing with firms in the city to see who'd give the most, so I thought I'd ride the competitive bandwagon and initiate myself into the rite of giving blood at the same time.

So I went. If you haven't given blood before, there's kind of a four-step process where you register, then get a form with your personal information, which you complete to let them know if you've done anything risky in regards to your blood, then you go into a secret cubicle with a nurse who questions you about strangely amusing things like whether you've had sex for money or drugs, and then you actually go lie down and give blood. Lisa and I were both a little uncomfortable about the whole process, but we were pretty sure that it would be alright. The first sign that things might not go as planned was when I went to get my finger pricked for the blood sample (for testing purposes) and the nurse had to tell me to relax and let my hand rest on the table. The second and much more glaring indicator that all was not well was when I burst into hysterical tears when the lance pricked me. But I laughed and dried my tears and blew my nose and the nurse laughed with me and I figured that had been my outlet for hysteria and I'd be fine.

Little did I know...

When I was laying there on the cot with my arm resting on the trolley, I was doing okay at not thinking about what was going to happen. However, when she came and stabbed me (and it hurt, although they tell me that's not normal), I started crying again. It was humiliating. I am definitely not a big girl. It didn't help that they couldn't seem to get the needle positioned properly so it felt like the inside of my vein was being perpetually stabbed, but in general I just seem to have some deep-seated psychological issue that hasn't yet been worked out. I spent the full 16 minutes of the blood-taking either trying not to cry or failing, shivering all the while. I'm shivering now, thinking about it. And I didn't regain control until the needle was gone and I was pressing down on the gauze and the nurse was telling me that they'd be able to help three people with that bag of my blood. All I can say is, they'd better. I'd better not have some random condition that makes my blood unfit to use.

So that was my strangely traumatic experience of the day. For the record, Lisa felt fine until she was suddenly nauseated and just about fainted. She said she couldn't figure out why the nurses weren't making anyone else lift their legs in the air. We are officially the two worst blood donors ever.

The latest

My life... what to say? I've spent the last little while curling, singing, having breakfast with friends, going to C&C, travelling to Ottawa for a weekend of shopping and hanging out with my parents, writing a factum and preparing for a moot (a fake court where we prepare and present an appeal - by far the most fun school thing I've done all year), eating and drinking, sadly not much dancing, planning and then canceling a trip to Rwanda, trying to figure out where I'm going to spend the summer, and reading a lot of cases on strict liability, necessity as an excuse, and standard form contracts. Oh, and I go to class, too.

I'm currently trying to nail down a job for the summer. It looks like I'll be working in Medicine Hat (fun work but no friends) or Saskatoon (questionable work but Becky and Kjersti and Megan!). I may go to Quebec for a five-week French exchange; I'll find out about it soonish. I'm really looking forward to the end of the semester but I can't imagine how I'm going to get all the work done before then. I need to pick up my marks a bit to keep my scholarship, and it's all a little troubling, but I'm working and praying and we'll see how it goes. Despite all of my questioning and crying, I am planning on coming back here next fall and am actually going to live with the couple who host my C&C group - they have a big house with a piano and a couple of dogs and have raised a few kids who are now older than me, so I think it'll be a good year. They're great people and it'll be nice to live in an actual house with sunlight and no mice.

As for love, whatever that is: let's just say that by all rights, I should be extremely lucky at cards. Hence, I'm setting up Nance's Online Dating Service. If anyone knows a single guy who'd match me and is up to a challenge, send him my way. I'm not easy to catch, but I make fabulous chocolate chip cookies. Plus, if he doesn't like me, I've got lots of cute, single female friends. It's a win-win situation. Speaking of matchmaking, my mom recently confessed that one of her first acts on entering a new church is to look for any cute available guys who might suit me. Kind of funny and kind of sad, but my only complaint is that it hasn't yet borne any fruit. What's up with that? I think her standards are too high. I hear there's a run on the singles in Saskatoon... it's about time. There are too many quality people there to stay single forever - it would rob the world of some very valuable genes.

I'm looking forward to the day in the fuzzy and distant future when I get eight hours of sleep a night and don't waste my extra time watching DVDs of Grey's Anatomy just to let my brain relax for an hour or so. Oh, excitingness - Law Ball is on Saturday, which is our main formal event of the year and is pretty exciting. My dress is nothing special, just black and long, but I have extremely red lipstick and it makes me happy. It should be good times. Anyway, I need to go sleep. Love to everyone and I'll try to post more often.

Ah, Valentines Day. The most meaningless holiday of all. A stimulus to depression for those who are so inclined, and a source of cynical mockery to the ever-so-slightly more well-adjusted.
OW!
I have a blister on my finger (due to an unfortunate incident with a hot burner and an exploding plate and me being stupid) and it hurts to type, so unfortunately I have to sign off. I'll rant about Hallmark and the men (or lack thereof) these days another time.

Did You Really Think I Could Have the Kissing Disease?

For the record, I don't have mono. I had something with very similar symptoms, but it only lasted three days and didn't screw up my blood sample enough to be the kissing disease, so we're all good. I'm glad I don't have to drop out of school, my mom's glad she can breathe again, and everyone who's been kissing me is thankful that they don't have it (wait... oh, right... no one's been kissing me. What's up with that?!?). Just thought I'd let y'all know.

22

Hey! I am now officially old. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am 22. No longer on the cusp of adulthood... no longer just barely old enough to make it into American bars... no longer absurdly young for my faculty (okay, still pretty young, but what can you do?)... I am, if not old, getting closer to the downhill slope. Birthdays no longer feel like special occasions and I've started to forget how old I am and miscalculate my age by a couple of years. I think that's a sure sign of encroaching senility. Anyway, I had a fantastic day yesterday - got cards and packages and had coffee and lunch at the Italian Market with my roommates and then had a bunch of our friends over for burgers, floats, and chocolate cake. It was raining and miserable and none of us wanted to go out, so we stayed in and played charades until our RA kicked us out (stupid quiet hours), at which point we headed to Scott's and continued the game. It was great - just a nice, happy night with my favourite people out here. Incidentally, they asked what was my wierdest birthday, not expecting to hear anything particularly special, and then got the story of last year, with the kidnapping and the Black Claw and the sword fight in the front yard, and were suitably impressed. I love these folks, but I miss you at home people a lot! Have a great February and thanks for the emails, the ecard (Kjersti, you rock!), and the calls. You girls are the best.

Snow Day!

It's my first snow day ever and I love it! They actually closed the university til noon! I'm so excited. The one drawback is that I have interviews today, so I'm hoping those are still on. Nevertheless, I don't have to go to class this morning! Yay!

Query

Is it wrong for me to laugh at a comedy sketch that's entirely based on the exploitation of Jesus in pop culture? On one level, it's very funny, because it skewers some of the mistaken concepts that we have about what Jesus is about and why he's involved in the world. On the other hand, I feel weird watching it and laughing at it when I'm with friends who aren't really well-versed in Christianity and what it's all about; I hope it doesn't look to them like I'm laughing at Jesus. Sometimes there's a fine line between truth and blasphemy.

I do wish that political parties and corporations and various other organizations wouldn't pretend to be the "Christian" choice. When they mess up and make a mockery of themselves, they also indirectly expose to ridicule everything to which they claimed to be linked. But then, of course, the same could be said of me. Everytime I laugh at the wrong joke or do the wrong thing or say something I shouldn't, people around me may take that as a characteristic not just of me but also of everything I stand for. It's unfortunate. It's funny how it all comes back to me having no right to judge anyone else.

Bathsheba Everdene

"Of love as a spectacle Bathsheba had a fair knowledge; but of love subjectively she knew nothing."
-Thomas Hardy, Far From the Madding Crowd

An Incomplete Manifesto

I'm working on a personal manifesto, inspired by my frustration with the fact that I have a hard time even talking about politics with people out here - the dialogue and the subtexts are so entirely different than at home. I can't understand why that is; people aren't that different across the country. We all seem to want more or less the same kinds of things. How can we have such completely different understandings of the most effective ways to access those benefits when we have so much otherwise in common? Anyway, the manifesto: this is a very rough beginning draft, spawned during an MSN conversation tonight about the election:

I don't believe in right wing or left wing; I don't think the west has it right or that the east does either; I think government always has been and always will be more or less haphazard and that once they get a system that works the people within that system get power-hungry and accordingly corrupt. I love the idea of NDP values - equality and democracy and share and share alike - but after living in an NDP province most of my life I’m a little skeptical as to the possibility of implementing those values effectively. I have no problem with people being rich, but I do have a problem with those who are rich showing a blatant disregard for the poor. I believe that people should help one another in a personal capacity, regardless of the government's social involvement or lack thereof. I do believe in universal health care; I think a basic education should be available to everyone, and I believe that those who show promise and interest in an area should be given the opportunity to fulfil that promise. I don't believe that the perfect political system will ever be formed; I do believe that it's absurd for people to complain about the corruption and uselessness of everything when they completely and perpetually neglect to do anything to remedy it. I value a person's integrity more than that person's political theory, but I also realize that personal integrity may be reflected in the type of political theory adopted and, more importantly, in the reasons for adopting it. I would love to see an election race in which the parties devoted their energy to developing viable and honest platforms and communicating those platforms to the public instead of spreading (mis)information about one another.

And I'm tired and have a job interview tomorrow, so I'm going for bed. Goodnight!

Feist

I just went to the Feist concert here and it was so amazing - words fail me. Leslie Feist put on one of the best live acts I've ever seen. Her voice is incredible: fluid, flexible, beautiful. She had a terrific band of three guys who knew their music and could sing; even better, she knew when to use them and when to do it herself. I can't believe she can sing that well and play guitar like she does. It's awesome. If anyone gets a chance to go to one of her concerts, do it. If you have to sell your teddy bear to make it happen, do it. It's great.

Note also that this was a second concert opened up when the first one sold out, so it was all-ages and there was no alcohol. It made a huge difference; I wasn't really expecting it to matter that much. She even commmented on the difference between tonight's concert and last night, which was the originally scheduled event. Everyone was really there to listen tonight: the crowd was so quiet when she was on stage, and so loud when we were trying to get her to come back (she did). I loved it.

Bad Habit Apology #1

I talk during movies. It's true. I can't help it. Please forgive me and pity the miserable, verbiose wretch that is me.

Confession complete. True repentence? We can only hope...

I'm in the process for applying for a bunch of jobs and I'm coming to the all-too-true conclusion that it'll take a miracle for me to get one. Even more of a miracle for me to get one back home. So pray that it'll work out right! Thanks!

Let me sing you an Ode to Tea

There is nothing quite as lovely as a little cup of tea
Or a not-so-little helping in a jug
It makes me warm and cozy and my tummy says, "Oh me!
I'm snuggly as a buggly in a rug!"

There's a certain kind of warmness that the mug gives to my hand
And that slips down from my tummy to my toes
And it makes me feel so happy and it makes me feel so grand
When the steam condenses on my chin and nose.

Yes, there's nothing quite as lovely as a little cup of tea
Though I'm not an Englishman or Englishgirl
And if you'll try it with me, I'm quite sure that you'll agree
And be glad at last that you gave tea a whirl.

not in Kansas anymore

I'm homesick. More homesick than when I first came. I guess there's less newness now, less to observe and experiment with and try out. It's not exciting or unexpected anymore. Now I know more or less what the next four months are going to look like and it's kind of depressing. I had a momentary thought that maybe I should just move back to my girls next year and continue doing my degree there, but I caught myself and tried to keep from wishing it. Anyway, I'm sure I'll cheer up or at least get distracted once school really kicks in. If only I liked school...

Mercy is Falling (to pieces)

I played piano for church today and it went fairly badly. We practised just last night, only had the piano, a bass, and a couple of voices, and did a bunch of songs I've never played before. I had about the expected amount of success. However, I realized something fairly important: God doesn't need me to add to his glory. If I do well and it glorifies him, that's wonderful and good. But if I do badly, it's really no loss to him; he's already sufficient unto himself. The only real loss is if I allow a failure to keep me from contributing in the future. So that's my revelation of the week: if I'm playing for myself, then a mistake is a huge issue because I need all the boosting up I can get. But if I'm playing for my God, a mistake is pretty unimportant. He really doesn't need the boost. None of our offerings are flawless in his eyes; all we can give him are our insignificant, tattered best efforts and the hope that he will take them as the best we can give.

Today's Fortunes

A long-abandoned crush from the shadowy past will reappear in a close friend's life; you will laugh.

The way down which you walk will smell like cat.

The cake of chocolatiness will follow you wherever you go.

The jeans which once were dirty will suddenly be clean.

Your soup will be spurned.

The soporific qualities of criminal law will become evident in the evening hours.

You will attempt and fail to stalk an old friend.

That which seemed full will suddenly be empty.

You will be plagued by financial self-doubt; swift action will resolve this problem.

And, last but not least,
You will be struck in the face by three wet herring.

Fireworks

Someone's setting off firecrackers outside. I wish it was me and Challis and Becky and Megan and Carla and Megan S and Marian and the boys (Ben, Stefan, Ole, Phil, Landon, the works...). We never set off firecrackers. That was a serious omission that, at some point, will have to be put right. Maybe this coming August.

I think I'm in love with Sufjan Stevens. It's definitely the sort of hopeless adoration that people always profess for movie stars and musicians and which I've rarely (if ever) felt before. But he's wonderful. Listen to "Casimir Pulanski Day" to get what I mean. Not to mention the fact that he's adorable and witty and fascinating and unique. And he plays the banjo. What are the chances that a 30-yr-old, intensely private, adorable, fascinating, possibly married, world-famous musician even reads his fanmail? And I think tracing him down at home is technically stalking, so I guess I'll just sit and wallow in the love that has no future until I get over it.
(For the record, this is largely facetious. But he is pretty interesting, and his music is quality.)

Favourite song of the moment, just discovered: "Beloved One" by Lou Rhodes. It's beautiful. You can check it out on the BBC Collective website - it's on the playlist for this week at http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/collective/.

How I hate humble pie.

I just got another exam back on which I was hoping to do better. It's not particularly comforting to hear that the whole class did badly; no matter how badly they did, it was curved. Some people got As and I was not one of them. Once again, I wish I was comfortable with mediocrity. That would be totally achievable. I think the problem is that in the past, it took comparatively little effort to make me seem like I was working harder than I was. It's not really happening anymore.

At least I'm not being passive about school anymore. I'm going to work really hard this term and I'm meeting up with my professors to find out what I need to do to pull up my socks. It should be informative. Wish me luck! And wish me a work ethic... that'd actually be more useful.

Been to the latest protest? I heard it was totally hot. Tom and Jen and Bianca were there. There were water cannons. It was crazy, man...

I'm vaguely amused by people who go to protests purely for the sake of going to protests. As a form of entertainment, I mean. Maybe I should try it out: see the world, get tear-gassed in all kinds of interesting places, scream at the police in a variety of exciting locales, and learn a little more about the futility of any attempt at political involvement. Sorry, that was unncessary. But I'm not deleting it. I'm sure there are people who protest for very good reasons and who are convinced that they're fulfilling a need in society, but I suspect that it would make me feel like an ant. I'd rather become Her Extravagant Majesty Nance, Queen Empress of the Known Universe, and just make new laws when it turns out that the old ones are bad.

Report from the front lines: the semester begins

I'm glad to be back; it's good to be getting into some sort of routine again (besides, of course, the sleep-'til-noon, eat-cookies, bake-cookies, hang-with-the-family routine that I enjoyed through almost the entire Christmas break). I had forgotten, though, that all anyone talks about here is school and alcohol. As I'm not especially passionate about school and quit drinking as one of my many (but fulfillable!) New Years' resolutions, this is fairly limited. I was happy to go for supper tonight with some great girls from my section who are well-informed, well-read, and have a variety of conversational topics at their fingertips. However, I found it a little disturbing when one implied that American-style Christian fundamentalism isn't too different from Islamic fundamentalism. Due to my lack of confrontational skillz and the quick forward movement in the conversation, I didn't protest as much as I should have, but I wish I'd posed the question that demands an answer: namely, when is the last time Christian fundamentalists sent out suicide bombers or rocket launchers? I realize and don't deny that there are people who are labouring under the misconception that George W. Bush and the Stars and Stripes deserve the same level of respect, and for virtually the same reasons, as Jesus and the Bible. I also realize that there are people who use Christianity (or rather, their misunderstanding of it) as an excuse for violence and hatred. But for the record, they have not yet declared holy war. Moreover, if they did, it would not be supported by their key religious text. (Incidentally, another New Year's resolution is to read the Koran and determine whether the Jihad is as much a perversion of Islam as the Crusades were of Christianity. I suspect it is not.) Okay, it's getting late and I'm trying to get my body back on track with the appropriate time zone, so I'm done. Much love!

-Nance

The exams have begun to trickle back.

I wish I could be satisfied to be average. That would be so nice. Contentment with mediocrity, in my mind and at this moment, is an admirable quality.

Why the Title?

Why the title? Well, first and foremost, there was that book of all that's warm, comforting, and strangely profound: Winnie the Pooh. The Complete Tales are sitting on my desk right in front of me and I love them to bits, so I thought I'd incorporate their random wisdom and ordered nonsense; if I can ever come anywhere near emulating A.A. Milne's sweet jubilance, I'll be a happy girl and a great writer. I will also be much more amusing than I am at present. Pheonix? Well, that's in there for so many reasons, from the fabulous mythology and imagery of the pheonix rising from the ashes to its connection to Christian symbolism to my great enjoyment of the Harry Potter books (I'm still in denial - he can't possibly be dead!) to my equally great enjoyment of Joaquin as Johnny in Walk the Line. And Nance just sounded right. Pheonix and Nance may or may not acquire personalities as the blog continues: I suspect that they may have many adventures in a certain seaside town: making new friends, hearing new music, doing new things, and generally loving life. And on that note, I'm off to bed. Sleep sweet, my pretties, and don't forget your loving if distant chum. Goo'night!

The Blog Arises From the Ashes...

mutatis mutandis (adverb) "making necessary alterations while not affecting the main point" [Oxford Concise Dictionary]

There never was a point. That's the truth. It just happened. And it will continue just to happen because every once in a while I need a place to blurt and this seems as good as any. Plus, there are a few people with whom I'd completely lose contact if not for the blogging. So it continues, just in a different form.