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.