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.