...temperatures on average...

Re: the trials and tribulations of academia

i) I had to drop Canadian Politics. It was hurting my soul, just devastatingly. For such an important class, it's taught by the most depressingly boring prof, and the material in the texts is just made so dry. Out of a list of 50 topic suggestions for our term paper, not one had an ounce of creativity. I dreaded thinking about it for weeks, then three days before it was due, when I still couldn't bring myself to write anything about it -- I realized that I'm in university, and a grownup, and if I don't like a class, I can DROP IT! Relief relief.

ii) Last year I wrote this anthropology paper and, not to toot my own horn or anything, but it was kind of a big deal. In another class with the same prof this year, I've spent the last few weeks topic hunting. I thought at first that I had found inspiration for one, but it just wasn't a practical research project to do in so little a timeframe. Yesterday though I came upon it, and it is so much fun, and so fascinating that the rest of the year will be exciting as a result. So yay me -- and I just want to stop doing other things, and just work on this. I can't, but that's okay.

iii) Everyone has those kinds of people to deal with. You know the type: the brown-nosing, always-talking kids who raise points and ask questions just to get their voice heard. They make you crazy, they make the prof crazy, and they haven't got a clue. I've got one of those. Well. Even with all her questions, and hand-raising, and commenting, and analysing everything as an "active sign of resistance" (note: not even in cultural anthropology is everything a sign of resistance), I still stuck it to her on the last note. Sorry kid. Next time maybe.

...nothing is guaranteed...

Dance monkey, sing monkey, write monkey...

Okay children, all 4 of you, this one is for you: I checked how this blog was doing on a whim, nothing more, having had no intention (for some reason) to write in it. I think I've outgrown blogging. Add it to one of the many things I'm bored with in my life. Other things on that list? Just about everything ever. All the institutions that claim a piece of me, school/teach/play, everything just leaves me tired right now. I would have added work on there, but I was there yesterday and a redhead complimented the belt, the boss complimented the skirt, and the big city reporter stopped in for a visit - they're good to me, what can I do? Airkisses everyone.

Tonight I'm having trouble sleeping. I'm exhausted, my body aches with it, but I have spent the last two hours tossing and turning, and now I'm watching Beverly Hills 90210 in reruns. I'm worried about the paper I have due next week on the viability of the Canadian left. I'm excited that we're seeing The Sound and The Fury in lecture tomorrow, and discussing the language struggles in the deaf community. I bemoan the 3 more pounds I've put on this month, where does it come from, why won't it leave. I want to run away west and be a cowboy. West is where all the cool kids go. The cool as cucumber kids you still think about, what's wrong with you anyway?

The only thing keeping this ship floating is brief encounters with the ladies - we carved our own place in the madness, time to be light and breezy, chatty and crafty. Next week we start knitting, in time to make mitts for the winter coming fast. This week we're reading Heti's The Middle Stories. Also, someone said something about a tea party. A tea party! Can you even imagine!

...mysterious child, come slowly...

She bundled up thoroughly before we headed out for the 2 minute walk down the road to my house. Long sleeve henley. Fleece pullover. Hooded jacket. Birks. Mitts.

I was wearing a brown buttoned hoodie and sneakers. Turquoise scarf. I peeked over at her fuzzy bundled self out of my sunglasses and laughed outright. She looked like she was about to face Siberia. Remember those stories? "When I was your age... barefoot... three feet of snow". Oh these girls from California, coming up to chilly Toronto. Honey it's not that cold yet!

This week gave me a Laiah until the weekend, so exciting. Have a good one everybody!

...doraville! doraville! doraville!...

Quickly, because time is brief: I love Atlanta; It's gorgeous and stunning and clean and friendly; I never realized there are so many pediatricians in the world!; met my Rhett Butler; shopped... honestly too much.

Conference time now, xo.

...the british are coming...

There are two wasps in my kitchen, and I don't know a) how they got there, or b) what to do about it. They are sitting peacefully, wings fluttering, one on the ceiling chandelier, one on the curtain by the window. Too high for me to reach to smush them but a little bit huge, and concerning. Thoughts?

...she knows marcel proust...

I walked out of Random House today with a heavy canvas bag of books, and one yellow-covered anticipated gem in my hands (all the better to start reading it the second I got on the train). This gem, of course, was "Forever in Blue", the fourth and final book in Ann Brashares' Traveling Pants series. By the time I arrived at Finch Station, I was 100 pages in. I didn't even make it home; I plopped into the Starbucks down the street and picked up where I left off. 50 pages further, I called Farnam, then Iman, telling them how incredible this book was. I didn't chat long, merely told them I was passing my copy forward, and went back to reading. An hour after that, the book. was. finished.

It was an incredible ending to a phenomenal young adult series. What struck me most was the stark difference between this series and, say, Gossip Girl. For all their common history with Alloy and 17th Street, these two series are worlds apart. What Ann Brashares does, in four thrilling, sentimental, and powerful books is give a believable and commendable portrayal of modern teenage life. The protagonists experience enduring friendships, academic and personal challenges, first loves, first thought-it-was-loves, and everything in between. Their problems are not only believable, but are inspiring in how the characters resolve them. These girls have strength, identity, humour, and integrity - they also have the kind of relationship with each other that every teenager should strive for. That spirit of girlhood solidarity is so enviable in an era of ever more superficial connections.

Bridget, long since my favorite character in the series, has a moment of clear understanding at a pivotal point in a new relationship. "She stood up her straightest, to her full woman's height of five feet ten and a half inches. If she didn't take her life seriously, who would? She was becoming the person she'd be for her whole life. Each thing she chose contributed to that person. She didn't want to be like this". I shook my head at this, marvelling at the contrast between this and some of the other teen literature I have read. If only other authors (and other publishers!) would come to realize that a book can be engaging and sexy, and still put forward a message of personal value.

I will miss these girls terribly, but am likely to revisit their adventures often. Needless to say I am thrilled with how they grew and evolved, and eager to see what this perceptive voice in young people's literature comes up with next.

...you could go either way...

Channeling the American South; coming back to think on things. Need some quiet time for now. Back soon?


Revision:

Under pressure from the half-Iranian lobby from the US Midwest, I'm coming up loud again. I guess. I'm sorry I keep doing this to you; I get tired and I want to leave things, and then someone drags me back.