Yup the Exam is tonight.
All class members need 70%.
Or they are booted mercilessly from the class.
Mercilessly!
Keep your fingers crossed for me.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
It's all about me today!
It really IS all about me today.
If you don't believe it read the two other entries I posted today.
That'll prove it's about mmmME!
MMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee-EEEE! (^_^)
Oh! Hi! look at you. Now, Look at Me!
sorry, how selfish. Hello all readers. Hope you have a lovely week. It looks to be shaping up as a right decent week.
If you don't believe it read the two other entries I posted today.
That'll prove it's about mmmME!
MMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee-EEEE! (^_^)
Oh! Hi! look at you. Now, Look at Me!
sorry, how selfish. Hello all readers. Hope you have a lovely week. It looks to be shaping up as a right decent week.
Not all vampires suck blood...
Energy! You dirty little vampires, I know what you were thinking. Of course in specific cases I will be more than happy to suck your blood.
Energy; O, my flock, that is what I need from you now. You see there's just sooooo much to be done, but I haven't been able to pull it together. No man is an island. I only get anywhere with the lot of you, so I have to ask this of you all:
Channel me some Karma, Power-level me, Kick my ass a little, Lend me your strength, Transfer some charge to me, Be my muse, Push me, Give Me Your Life Force and I promise to reciprocate in the fullness of time. As I have previously stated, my triumph Is your triumph!
If you all give just a little I will catch fire, I will become incandescent. Won't that be fun? Seeing me immolate? Science suggests that if I move quickly enough while this process, my gravity will increase - and then I can be a star! A star for my readers, of Course!
Energy; O, my flock, that is what I need from you now. You see there's just sooooo much to be done, but I haven't been able to pull it together. No man is an island. I only get anywhere with the lot of you, so I have to ask this of you all:
Channel me some Karma, Power-level me, Kick my ass a little, Lend me your strength, Transfer some charge to me, Be my muse, Push me, Give Me Your Life Force and I promise to reciprocate in the fullness of time. As I have previously stated, my triumph Is your triumph!
If you all give just a little I will catch fire, I will become incandescent. Won't that be fun? Seeing me immolate? Science suggests that if I move quickly enough while this process, my gravity will increase - and then I can be a star! A star for my readers, of Course!
XXX-V!
The triple X represents extreme sexuality. The V represents victory. Funny, but I expect neither of these things to figure into my day at all. Of course taken together, we have the roman numerals for 35. I am officially middle-age.
I Feel Like I am 19! Sure, plenty of readers here in Simacia, have heard this before. But How does one account for this discrepancy? Do you all really understand the problems presented? I am unresolved. I am unable to resolve. I'm not complaining. I look around and see many people my age who are miserable (relatively). Or maybe I just surmise that I enjoy life more than they. Perhaps they've reached their apex, while in many ways I am still coming into my stride.
It is a little ridiculous to be coming into your stride at half-life. Anyways, I often act like a kid and in some ways I Refuse to give it up.
...uhhhhmmmm. Mmmmhm. There was a sort of semi-squishy introspective point I was leading up to here. It was going to be uplifting and wise like your grandmother would have told you. Y'know? But dammit, it's gone. So:
Rock On! Go out and celebrate my existance! Doesn't matter if you see me or not - Just go out and have a wikkid cool time some point this week. And think of me when you do
I Feel Like I am 19! Sure, plenty of readers here in Simacia, have heard this before. But How does one account for this discrepancy? Do you all really understand the problems presented? I am unresolved. I am unable to resolve. I'm not complaining. I look around and see many people my age who are miserable (relatively). Or maybe I just surmise that I enjoy life more than they. Perhaps they've reached their apex, while in many ways I am still coming into my stride.
It is a little ridiculous to be coming into your stride at half-life. Anyways, I often act like a kid and in some ways I Refuse to give it up.
...uhhhhmmmm. Mmmmhm. There was a sort of semi-squishy introspective point I was leading up to here. It was going to be uplifting and wise like your grandmother would have told you. Y'know? But dammit, it's gone. So:
Rock On! Go out and celebrate my existance! Doesn't matter if you see me or not - Just go out and have a wikkid cool time some point this week. And think of me when you do
Thursday, January 11, 2007
quick Hello
You saw me walking the other day.
nowhere specific
no particular time of day
but I hope you were smiling
when you saw me
nowhere specific
no particular time of day
but I hope you were smiling
when you saw me
Intro to Jill and apology to my Jills
You may know that Stella left us a little while ago. Shed a tear, take a drink. Currently, there is a new girl living with Penelope and myself. Her name is Jill. I can't see where the three girls named Jill that I have been friends with will be flattered by having a rat named after them, so I will qualify it a little.
As I say, I have personally known three Jills. Each of them are fun, funny, intelligent, saucy, good looking, sociable, capable people (and other good traits). They are all these things, yet all these things are expressed differently by the different Jills.
When I decide to bring another person or animal into my life, I hope to shape them somewhat. In the case of my new rat roommate, I thought it would be nice to have someone similar to my Jill friends around. (I rarely see any of the human Jills). So there, in a nutshell, is my mentality. I hope no Jill anywhere is offended.
Jill is a fancy rat. She is slightly hooded with a greyish caramel colour. In fact she looks plenty like Penelope but younger; the colour hasn't taken yet. My newest roommate has yet to learn when food is being offered and subsequently comes off as very friendly, trying to hold your hand instead of bite it like food. She is fairly high energy - she climbs the walls but not the ceiling and as yet no acrobatics.
Jill!
As I say, I have personally known three Jills. Each of them are fun, funny, intelligent, saucy, good looking, sociable, capable people (and other good traits). They are all these things, yet all these things are expressed differently by the different Jills.
When I decide to bring another person or animal into my life, I hope to shape them somewhat. In the case of my new rat roommate, I thought it would be nice to have someone similar to my Jill friends around. (I rarely see any of the human Jills). So there, in a nutshell, is my mentality. I hope no Jill anywhere is offended.
Jill is a fancy rat. She is slightly hooded with a greyish caramel colour. In fact she looks plenty like Penelope but younger; the colour hasn't taken yet. My newest roommate has yet to learn when food is being offered and subsequently comes off as very friendly, trying to hold your hand instead of bite it like food. She is fairly high energy - she climbs the walls but not the ceiling and as yet no acrobatics.
Jill!
Instance and interrupt
This is issue #177. Ten letters from now I shall write about homicide.
In the meantime I shall talk about the trouble with holidays. It takes me some time to get my momentum going. By the time of year when we nail people to crosses, errmm... that is Celebrate their life, I am in full swing. I am all engines go. Then comes this nearly month long interrupt that messes with all my good efforts.
The trip to see family, the extra parties that go with the cultural attitude (parties are fun), the spending to prove you're a good person - it all gets in the way. From a work point of view I'd be much happier bypassing the holidays.
New Year's Eve is okay, because it's a one off. Now I should also point out how family seems to go slightly insane at this time of year, until you are face to face and suddenly they are stone cold sober and sane. Unnerving effect, as far as I am concerned.
Where was I? Oh! Yes, I am really out of whack with my classes. Damn you, holidays! It would be best to have only reading week early in the new year. We really don't need more than that.
In the meantime I shall talk about the trouble with holidays. It takes me some time to get my momentum going. By the time of year when we nail people to crosses, errmm... that is Celebrate their life, I am in full swing. I am all engines go. Then comes this nearly month long interrupt that messes with all my good efforts.
The trip to see family, the extra parties that go with the cultural attitude (parties are fun), the spending to prove you're a good person - it all gets in the way. From a work point of view I'd be much happier bypassing the holidays.
New Year's Eve is okay, because it's a one off. Now I should also point out how family seems to go slightly insane at this time of year, until you are face to face and suddenly they are stone cold sober and sane. Unnerving effect, as far as I am concerned.
Where was I? Oh! Yes, I am really out of whack with my classes. Damn you, holidays! It would be best to have only reading week early in the new year. We really don't need more than that.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Stella
Stella is my younger pet rat. As some readers know already, she went to the vet with a severe pneumonia, but pulled through that remarkably. Two weeks later she returned to the vet. Her breathing had recovered (though was still laboured), but she had not gained any weight. In fact, she had dropped to 150 grams.
Less than an hour after coming home she'd breathed her last. I've heard many condolences on her passing, which I appreciate. Honestly, given that we all go sometime, this was a good way to go. Of course I am sad, I will miss her, but I was also lucky to get an extra two weeks with her.
Bi bi, Stella
Less than an hour after coming home she'd breathed her last. I've heard many condolences on her passing, which I appreciate. Honestly, given that we all go sometime, this was a good way to go. Of course I am sad, I will miss her, but I was also lucky to get an extra two weeks with her.
Bi bi, Stella
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Various thoughts...
Dah!As Stella recovers from serious pneumonia, Penelope has developed a tumour. She goes under the knife tomorrow afternoon - for the second time!
I'm in the school paper. Perhaps I should have used an exclamation mark for that, but schmeh. I also spoke to the Lambda editor about doing photography for them.
I spoke with Jeff from Lit. Crit. & Theory, while he worked away in CKLU today. It made me remember that I was going to get a show on the station. I should look into that again.
Possibly taking dance lessons with Lil' Liz Van Tassel. She is already a dancer, I am a clod. It will be fun, but interesting.
Really, Brutallly, Seriously behind with the work for Athabasca. This will not do. Sympathize! Or, better yet, motivate me. I would really appreciate it and promise to do the same for you, when you need it.
I am playing Risk with the crew from LOCS tomorrow. Not a bad game, really. I would like to hang out with one person in particular who will be there... A little coffee would be nice anyway.
lessee; Rats, Risk, Radio, Paper, School...
I reckon that's it for now. I have a date with Percy Bysshe b'nun-d'dada Shelley. (Not even the English majors knew that was one of his middle names!)
hope you enjoyed this fluff...
I'm in the school paper. Perhaps I should have used an exclamation mark for that, but schmeh. I also spoke to the Lambda editor about doing photography for them.
I spoke with Jeff from Lit. Crit. & Theory, while he worked away in CKLU today. It made me remember that I was going to get a show on the station. I should look into that again.
Possibly taking dance lessons with Lil' Liz Van Tassel. She is already a dancer, I am a clod. It will be fun, but interesting.
Really, Brutallly, Seriously behind with the work for Athabasca. This will not do. Sympathize! Or, better yet, motivate me. I would really appreciate it and promise to do the same for you, when you need it.
I am playing Risk with the crew from LOCS tomorrow. Not a bad game, really. I would like to hang out with one person in particular who will be there... A little coffee would be nice anyway.
lessee; Rats, Risk, Radio, Paper, School...
I reckon that's it for now. I have a date with Percy Bysshe b'nun-d'dada Shelley. (Not even the English majors knew that was one of his middle names!)
hope you enjoyed this fluff...
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
I was recently reminded that I once theorized that there are four different types of coffee. Try not to think “Columbian,” or “Dark Roast” here. More succinctly, there are four purposes to coffee. I was asked today what they are, but the original impulse was gone, so I had to scavenge my own mentality to reconstruct the notion. Here's what I came up with:
C1
The most common, and therefore let us call it Type 1 coffee, is shared with friends. It is social coffee, or more accurately, socializing coffee. One discusses their day, family, the crazy weekend that they endured. The coffee is the pretext to an event where we hone our social skills. Type 1 - Friendly coffee.
C2
I cannot comment on the commonality of the remaining types, though I would guess that this is next: coffee as the common bond. This is the junkie's coffee. Let's face it, we all drink the stuff and many times have little else in common. Life puts us in situations where we necessarily end up working with these people whom we have little in common with. I liken this coffee to the banners we wave in a stadium. We all support the same team, it seems to say; therefore, Type 2 - Stadium coffee. Junkie's coffee also kind of covers the “I can't wake up without it” cup we have in the morning, though I would not argue with anyone who chose to represent it as its own genre.
C3
Thankfully, the next purpose is fairly uncommon, though I had this coffee last night. This coffee provides a reason to get together with someone when they need help or support. Society is weird like that. Many of us can simply say “I need your help / support.” Perhaps itʼs the idea of that extra common bond that reinforces the person understands you. This makes their support seem more valid, or better. Or something like that. It is also nice to have the option to pause without saying anything, while one contemplates the hardships at hand. This is provided for by slowly sipping at the coffee. Type 3, then - Support coffee.
C4 (which can provide quite the bang)
One of the most obvious is the COFFEE. This is the beverage that affords one some extra time (usually one on one) to try and convince another that they should be Closer. Intimate. Physical. I call it COFFEE because of a comedian who once discussed this (Eddie Izzard). For those of you not familiar with Izzard, let us label it as Type 4 - Sexy coffee. or, sssSexy Coffee!
My primitive mentality produced these four purposes more or less immediately, however, in the time it took to write this I have identified to more types that deserve recognition. They can often be linked to Type 4 coffee, but don't Have to be.
C5
This coffee is again usually one on one, though variations are noted depending on a person's ambitions. Its purpose is to probe the personality of someone you have recently met. One is looking for how well they will get along with the other. Clearly this may connect to Type 4 coffee because one may finish a few cups of the black gold and think “I like this person, I want to take this person to bed,” or possibly “Let's fuck.” There is a second purpose to this coffee though. One may be looking to see if the other person will make a goodly friend. I suppose
one might be guaging if the other will be a suitable addition to the company (i.e. interview coffee). Since there are different manifestations, we require an umbrella term. My first idea was “Worthiness coffee,” which though accurate, sounds cynical. I opt instead to suggest Type 5 - Tentative coffee.
C6
The final coffee type I offer now for your consideration also subdivides into two major categories. Indeed, sub-divide as you see fit, but the concepts of necessity and luxury present themselves. On the necessity side we have the “Damn it's cold, I need to warm up with a nice hot cup of” coffee. On the luxury side I am thinking of when the warmth imbued by the beverage is more spiritual. An excellent example: Waking up exhausted after a long night of successful Type 4 coffees with someone you truly adore and quietly sipping on a fresh cup of breakfast blend while you massage your partner's feet and contemplate the fact that it is Sunday and all your responsabilities have been attended to. Type 6 - Coffee of Warmth. Probably this is the Best cup of coffee one can have.
IMPORTANT! - When doing coffee, be sure you know which type you are drinking! Many a disastrous occasion has arisen out of confusion over just what coffee type is going down your throat. Sometimes the differences are glaringly obvious - it is difficult to confuse Type 6 coffee with good old fashioned Types 1 or 5. Though I hate the term, if you Do confuse these types there is a chance you might be “easy.” Seek help from a respected barrista.
Consider the person and their situation, when inviting anyone for coffee. Does your intended coffee type match their most likely preference? Some people will never taste Type 4 coffee, some can't start their day without it. If it's Type 3 coffee, ask yourself if you really have enough time (these coffees can be tediously repetitive and take Hours for just one cup). And for heaven's sake learn to recognize when it's only ever going to Be Type 1 coffee.
Remember that there are special times where coffee types overlap. It is possible on occasion to have Type 1 for a long time with someone, but circumstance suddenly changes it to Type 4. Learn to recognize the subtle differences and your cheesy horoscope might come true for once. Remember also that though Type 3 can overlap well with and reinforce Type 1, it's often disastrous when mixed with Type 4. Adding alcohol to your coffee (even an innocent dash of Bailey's) can compound the issue. This is not to say that alcohol is verboten, sometimes the added warmth of some Tia Maria can enhance the right type of coffee, especially 4 and 6. Keep in mind that each alcohol has a personality of its own that will influence and possibly potentiate with the coffee type.
It tends to be a social phenomenon that Asking someone what type of coffee you are enjoying with them, especially after the first refill or later, dampens the situation considerably. Further, it makes one look somewhat naive or even a bit of a dullard. Moreover, asking may be considered crude and boorish. Again, with the right measure of charisma and delicate handling, asking may be acceptable. There are documented instances where asking, handled well, has advantageously turned one type to another (to the delight and amusement of all involved). Simply put: Be Careful about Asking!
A note about Decaf:
There are those members of society who have very strong reactions to the contents of a lovely coffee. Caffeine is the main problem in these cases. In the past, Decaf was considered somewhat frivolous and suggested that the imbiber was not serious about anything. In these semi-enlightened times of political correctness, it is considered a faux pas to make such assumptions. If one is open about drinking Decaf, it is not rude to inquire if they have trouble with regular coffee, just do not pry.
DISCLAIMER! - It should be noted that although in recent times it is common enough to see someone drinking coffee in a chic café while reading the DaVinci Code™, there is no hidden, kabbalic or otherwise mystic numerology to the coffee types presented here. If you find yourself seeking secret meanings in these numbers, you have likely had far too much of whatever type you're drinking and have become paranoid. Do not consult a barrista! Barristas practice their own weird mysticism and cannot help. Instead seek a coffee cessation worker.
I would like to share with you an ancient poem about coffee. It was written in a male dominated society, so please try to see the value beyond the single sexist remark it contains.
Good Coffee Should Be
Black as Night
Strong as Death
Sweet as a Woman
*sigh* It brings a tear to the ee, doesnʼt it? Now, as regular readers will acknowledge, I often ask for feedback. By all means if I have left out significant elements, share your view with the rest of us. Until we meet again, maintain full speed, stay up late, wake up tired but determined.
C1
The most common, and therefore let us call it Type 1 coffee, is shared with friends. It is social coffee, or more accurately, socializing coffee. One discusses their day, family, the crazy weekend that they endured. The coffee is the pretext to an event where we hone our social skills. Type 1 - Friendly coffee.
C2
I cannot comment on the commonality of the remaining types, though I would guess that this is next: coffee as the common bond. This is the junkie's coffee. Let's face it, we all drink the stuff and many times have little else in common. Life puts us in situations where we necessarily end up working with these people whom we have little in common with. I liken this coffee to the banners we wave in a stadium. We all support the same team, it seems to say; therefore, Type 2 - Stadium coffee. Junkie's coffee also kind of covers the “I can't wake up without it” cup we have in the morning, though I would not argue with anyone who chose to represent it as its own genre.
C3
Thankfully, the next purpose is fairly uncommon, though I had this coffee last night. This coffee provides a reason to get together with someone when they need help or support. Society is weird like that. Many of us can simply say “I need your help / support.” Perhaps itʼs the idea of that extra common bond that reinforces the person understands you. This makes their support seem more valid, or better. Or something like that. It is also nice to have the option to pause without saying anything, while one contemplates the hardships at hand. This is provided for by slowly sipping at the coffee. Type 3, then - Support coffee.
C4 (which can provide quite the bang)
One of the most obvious is the COFFEE. This is the beverage that affords one some extra time (usually one on one) to try and convince another that they should be Closer. Intimate. Physical. I call it COFFEE because of a comedian who once discussed this (Eddie Izzard). For those of you not familiar with Izzard, let us label it as Type 4 - Sexy coffee. or, sssSexy Coffee!
My primitive mentality produced these four purposes more or less immediately, however, in the time it took to write this I have identified to more types that deserve recognition. They can often be linked to Type 4 coffee, but don't Have to be.
C5
This coffee is again usually one on one, though variations are noted depending on a person's ambitions. Its purpose is to probe the personality of someone you have recently met. One is looking for how well they will get along with the other. Clearly this may connect to Type 4 coffee because one may finish a few cups of the black gold and think “I like this person, I want to take this person to bed,” or possibly “Let's fuck.” There is a second purpose to this coffee though. One may be looking to see if the other person will make a goodly friend. I suppose
one might be guaging if the other will be a suitable addition to the company (i.e. interview coffee). Since there are different manifestations, we require an umbrella term. My first idea was “Worthiness coffee,” which though accurate, sounds cynical. I opt instead to suggest Type 5 - Tentative coffee.
C6
The final coffee type I offer now for your consideration also subdivides into two major categories. Indeed, sub-divide as you see fit, but the concepts of necessity and luxury present themselves. On the necessity side we have the “Damn it's cold, I need to warm up with a nice hot cup of” coffee. On the luxury side I am thinking of when the warmth imbued by the beverage is more spiritual. An excellent example: Waking up exhausted after a long night of successful Type 4 coffees with someone you truly adore and quietly sipping on a fresh cup of breakfast blend while you massage your partner's feet and contemplate the fact that it is Sunday and all your responsabilities have been attended to. Type 6 - Coffee of Warmth. Probably this is the Best cup of coffee one can have.
IMPORTANT! - When doing coffee, be sure you know which type you are drinking! Many a disastrous occasion has arisen out of confusion over just what coffee type is going down your throat. Sometimes the differences are glaringly obvious - it is difficult to confuse Type 6 coffee with good old fashioned Types 1 or 5. Though I hate the term, if you Do confuse these types there is a chance you might be “easy.” Seek help from a respected barrista.
Consider the person and their situation, when inviting anyone for coffee. Does your intended coffee type match their most likely preference? Some people will never taste Type 4 coffee, some can't start their day without it. If it's Type 3 coffee, ask yourself if you really have enough time (these coffees can be tediously repetitive and take Hours for just one cup). And for heaven's sake learn to recognize when it's only ever going to Be Type 1 coffee.
Remember that there are special times where coffee types overlap. It is possible on occasion to have Type 1 for a long time with someone, but circumstance suddenly changes it to Type 4. Learn to recognize the subtle differences and your cheesy horoscope might come true for once. Remember also that though Type 3 can overlap well with and reinforce Type 1, it's often disastrous when mixed with Type 4. Adding alcohol to your coffee (even an innocent dash of Bailey's) can compound the issue. This is not to say that alcohol is verboten, sometimes the added warmth of some Tia Maria can enhance the right type of coffee, especially 4 and 6. Keep in mind that each alcohol has a personality of its own that will influence and possibly potentiate with the coffee type.
It tends to be a social phenomenon that Asking someone what type of coffee you are enjoying with them, especially after the first refill or later, dampens the situation considerably. Further, it makes one look somewhat naive or even a bit of a dullard. Moreover, asking may be considered crude and boorish. Again, with the right measure of charisma and delicate handling, asking may be acceptable. There are documented instances where asking, handled well, has advantageously turned one type to another (to the delight and amusement of all involved). Simply put: Be Careful about Asking!
A note about Decaf:
There are those members of society who have very strong reactions to the contents of a lovely coffee. Caffeine is the main problem in these cases. In the past, Decaf was considered somewhat frivolous and suggested that the imbiber was not serious about anything. In these semi-enlightened times of political correctness, it is considered a faux pas to make such assumptions. If one is open about drinking Decaf, it is not rude to inquire if they have trouble with regular coffee, just do not pry.
DISCLAIMER! - It should be noted that although in recent times it is common enough to see someone drinking coffee in a chic café while reading the DaVinci Code™, there is no hidden, kabbalic or otherwise mystic numerology to the coffee types presented here. If you find yourself seeking secret meanings in these numbers, you have likely had far too much of whatever type you're drinking and have become paranoid. Do not consult a barrista! Barristas practice their own weird mysticism and cannot help. Instead seek a coffee cessation worker.
I would like to share with you an ancient poem about coffee. It was written in a male dominated society, so please try to see the value beyond the single sexist remark it contains.
Good Coffee Should Be
Black as Night
Strong as Death
Sweet as a Woman
*sigh* It brings a tear to the ee, doesnʼt it? Now, as regular readers will acknowledge, I often ask for feedback. By all means if I have left out significant elements, share your view with the rest of us. Until we meet again, maintain full speed, stay up late, wake up tired but determined.
Stella My Hero
Rats. It is my conviction that Rats and Beavers are the most intelligent of all rodents. Beavers make hellish pets, they take soooo much effort to tame (^_^) better to just enjoy them wild, naturally. Rats make wonderful pets because you do not need to break the habit of damming up the frikkinʼ bathtub. I live with two rats, named Penelope and Stella (aka StelapodʼnʼPenelapod in cutesy baby talk).
Stella has been suffering under “a severe pneumonia.” She had lost half her weight in 3 days and became unco-ordinated She has been on something called Enrofloxacin™, and a strawberry flavoured diet supplement for old people through the worse part of the week. Last night we reached the eleventh hour, or chapel perilous, or what have you. She was gasping for air. She was convulsing for it. It looked painful. She could hardly breathe much less choke down even liquid food.
If ever you have tried to nurse someone sick to better health, you must realize how desperately you wish you could help. Of course, being there for them is about all one can do. I was worried that Stella would die last night. I know it was much worse for her, but it was hard for me too.
Some may say in these circumstances that it is most kind to put no expectations on the sick. I may not be the most kind person. I told her to fight and fight and damn well fight. I reason that if I am ever in a similar condition I will do the same. That is what life does - it clings, it holds on, it forces itself to persist, it fights. After many hours of ragged breathing, the sound of which reminded me of a saw, some Type 3 coffee with some friends and plenty of shifting discomfort, Stella's breathing became rhythmic and quieter. I rested with her on my chest for a few hours and gave her some boost™. With her breathing still shallow, but constant, I set her in her cage for a while. I woke up every hour through the morning, worried about her.
If this seems too fluffy for you, quit reading now, it's going to get worse. I canʼt say how much my words affected Stella. Certainly there are those who insist that non-human animals can't understand our speech. I differ with such people. I think that she not only heard me prompting her, but took it to heart. It is truely inspiring to watch 240 grams of tiny hands, twitching whiskers and bulging beady eyes strive so hard against circumstance. The sheer resolve, force of will, Stella displayed in beating this infection makes me proud. Such a tiny, fragile thing, without the strength to cross the floor of her cage, found the wherewithal to overcome her difficulties. On one level she is muscle and sinew, but on another she is tempered steel. She is my hero because of this.
Stella is a reminder to me to keep pushing even when the odds are against you and failure seems assured. She is a reminder to never give in, never give up. She embodies the best-finest aspects of the principles of obstinacy, survival and indomitable spirit.
More Importantly, my little girl is going to survive!
I must give credit where due. Penelope helped to take care of Stella, grooming her on a regular basis, sheilding her from harsh light, etc.
The one thing I will add is that (assuming the God I believe in exists), when I meet God, we are going to have a long talk about this whole issue of 3 days to become deathly ill and a number of weeks until full recovery. This issue is damned offensive to me and someone is going to answer for it (assuming there is a God).
Stella has been suffering under “a severe pneumonia.” She had lost half her weight in 3 days and became unco-ordinated She has been on something called Enrofloxacin™, and a strawberry flavoured diet supplement for old people through the worse part of the week. Last night we reached the eleventh hour, or chapel perilous, or what have you. She was gasping for air. She was convulsing for it. It looked painful. She could hardly breathe much less choke down even liquid food.
If ever you have tried to nurse someone sick to better health, you must realize how desperately you wish you could help. Of course, being there for them is about all one can do. I was worried that Stella would die last night. I know it was much worse for her, but it was hard for me too.
Some may say in these circumstances that it is most kind to put no expectations on the sick. I may not be the most kind person. I told her to fight and fight and damn well fight. I reason that if I am ever in a similar condition I will do the same. That is what life does - it clings, it holds on, it forces itself to persist, it fights. After many hours of ragged breathing, the sound of which reminded me of a saw, some Type 3 coffee with some friends and plenty of shifting discomfort, Stella's breathing became rhythmic and quieter. I rested with her on my chest for a few hours and gave her some boost™. With her breathing still shallow, but constant, I set her in her cage for a while. I woke up every hour through the morning, worried about her.
If this seems too fluffy for you, quit reading now, it's going to get worse. I canʼt say how much my words affected Stella. Certainly there are those who insist that non-human animals can't understand our speech. I differ with such people. I think that she not only heard me prompting her, but took it to heart. It is truely inspiring to watch 240 grams of tiny hands, twitching whiskers and bulging beady eyes strive so hard against circumstance. The sheer resolve, force of will, Stella displayed in beating this infection makes me proud. Such a tiny, fragile thing, without the strength to cross the floor of her cage, found the wherewithal to overcome her difficulties. On one level she is muscle and sinew, but on another she is tempered steel. She is my hero because of this.
Stella is a reminder to me to keep pushing even when the odds are against you and failure seems assured. She is a reminder to never give in, never give up. She embodies the best-finest aspects of the principles of obstinacy, survival and indomitable spirit.
More Importantly, my little girl is going to survive!
I must give credit where due. Penelope helped to take care of Stella, grooming her on a regular basis, sheilding her from harsh light, etc.
The one thing I will add is that (assuming the God I believe in exists), when I meet God, we are going to have a long talk about this whole issue of 3 days to become deathly ill and a number of weeks until full recovery. This issue is damned offensive to me and someone is going to answer for it (assuming there is a God).
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Toad In The Hole!
(I Swear I thought I had written it already, but I was wrong. Wrong! and I apologize)
You likely know it by a different name, like, Egg in a raft, Eggy in the basket or even ... I don't know. The potential list of metaphoric names for toast with a section hollowed wherein one fries an egg is likely extensive. I have no idea who first called it Toad In The Hole. I would love to know if any of you had a different name for this food when you were younger. No need to make up metaphors really, cuz I could do that...
Imagine how different commando films would feel if they yelled it each time the tossed a grenade or used a breaching charge: Instead of "Fire In the Hole!!!' it would be "Toad In the Hole" and the enemy soldiers would be like: "zey are attacking mit ze toads? Kvik, Hans, get ze tennis rackets, ve must defend ze bunker!" Hehehe
It also makes me think of the phrase "ace in the hole." Yet I haven't figured a scenario that 's even vaguely plausible to fit such a change....
Gangsta 1: We need to take Vinnie down, he's gonna rat us out.
Gangsta 2: Yeah, but he's paranoid and he's gonna underground. Nobody can reach him now.
Gangsta 1: It's okay, I've got an ace, I mean Toad in the hole. Y'see he's got a thing for fresh linen. Irish linen. We simply slip some poison into his pillow case. He calls for fresh sheets... Next time he lays his head down, it's for the Big Sleep, see?
that's three. more soon.
thanks for reading
You likely know it by a different name, like, Egg in a raft, Eggy in the basket or even ... I don't know. The potential list of metaphoric names for toast with a section hollowed wherein one fries an egg is likely extensive. I have no idea who first called it Toad In The Hole. I would love to know if any of you had a different name for this food when you were younger. No need to make up metaphors really, cuz I could do that...
Imagine how different commando films would feel if they yelled it each time the tossed a grenade or used a breaching charge: Instead of "Fire In the Hole!!!' it would be "Toad In the Hole" and the enemy soldiers would be like: "zey are attacking mit ze toads? Kvik, Hans, get ze tennis rackets, ve must defend ze bunker!" Hehehe
It also makes me think of the phrase "ace in the hole." Yet I haven't figured a scenario that 's even vaguely plausible to fit such a change....
Gangsta 1: We need to take Vinnie down, he's gonna rat us out.
Gangsta 2: Yeah, but he's paranoid and he's gonna underground. Nobody can reach him now.
Gangsta 1: It's okay, I've got an ace, I mean Toad in the hole. Y'see he's got a thing for fresh linen. Irish linen. We simply slip some poison into his pillow case. He calls for fresh sheets... Next time he lays his head down, it's for the Big Sleep, see?
that's three. more soon.
thanks for reading
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Resolution
This is a happy type entry, but before I start I should apologize for the double entry about language earlier. Not that many of you responded, which is a shame, but in general terms. That mistake was due to an embarassing lag time that blogger users suffered that day.
Here's the Good Stuff:
1) Called the landlord. "My furnace isn't working." The vivacious and pretty secretary answers and makes a quick check of things. "We can have a guy there in an hour." (^_^)!
2) Bureaucracy Demon the First: SLAIN! This would be the demon that barred the gates to convocation. In the eleventh hour of an epic struggle between myself and the demon, I struck it a mortal blow and my prize is that I can graduate. 28 Oct., 10 a.m., Everybody invited.
3) Bureaucracy demon the Second: Flagging. It's getting weaker and I am set to rally. Soon I shall have my OSAP.
4) I don't know about 4, I think I am just in a good mood today. If you are in a Not Good mood, come seek me out and I will cheer you up. I can make you smile!
Here's the Good Stuff:
1) Called the landlord. "My furnace isn't working." The vivacious and pretty secretary answers and makes a quick check of things. "We can have a guy there in an hour." (^_^)!
2) Bureaucracy Demon the First: SLAIN! This would be the demon that barred the gates to convocation. In the eleventh hour of an epic struggle between myself and the demon, I struck it a mortal blow and my prize is that I can graduate. 28 Oct., 10 a.m., Everybody invited.
3) Bureaucracy demon the Second: Flagging. It's getting weaker and I am set to rally. Soon I shall have my OSAP.
4) I don't know about 4, I think I am just in a good mood today. If you are in a Not Good mood, come seek me out and I will cheer you up. I can make you smile!
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Missing
I am missing a few things. In keeping with established style, I will mention three:
I have missed the first anthro dinner, of which I am rather insensed. This is the only one I have missed since being at LU. It is an unusual chance to catch up with some really cool people that I don't get to see enough of.
Tonight I shall miss the flamenco espectacularrrrrr (roll the 'r') and that is Such a shame! Obviously, I want to hear the music and see the dancing, (and be jealous that I don't know how to do either). I also hoped to get some wicked photos at the event too. Pics would be nice because I could get them in Lambda, whose pics from the metric concert just Sucked.
Lastly, I miss . You know who you are.
Tune in later for More exciting updates.
I have missed the first anthro dinner, of which I am rather insensed. This is the only one I have missed since being at LU. It is an unusual chance to catch up with some really cool people that I don't get to see enough of.
Tonight I shall miss the flamenco espectacularrrrrr (roll the 'r') and that is Such a shame! Obviously, I want to hear the music and see the dancing, (and be jealous that I don't know how to do either). I also hoped to get some wicked photos at the event too. Pics would be nice because I could get them in Lambda, whose pics from the metric concert just Sucked.
Lastly, I miss . You know who you are.
Tune in later for More exciting updates.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
A side thought about language
So I was trying to find an image of Rose McGowan, because she is beautiful. This led, as anyone would reasonably guess, to a grammar quiz. Someone was urging whoever read his writing to preserve the english language. Pardon: the English language. I felt I should respond.
One has to understand that language changes over time, like it or lump it. Over a long enough time it becomes a new language. It is fun to toy with those high school teachers who lament any change whatsoever, any usage that is less than "good english." This concept varies from teacher to teacher, of course - try comparing some teachers and see for yourself.
You see, the argument is quite old. Back in the 1600s there were also people of influence (men, primarily, because the patriarchy kept women down) who made the same complaints. The usage that bothered them is now standard english. At one point for instance, the use of contractions was abominable and low class. Incidentally, the vulgar and vernacular tend to be the crucible for new language - the birthplace of new language. It is of course foolish to resist the creation of new language. It is futile. All language changes.
Personally, I have always found it one of the more charming aspects of english that its adaptability, flexibility and willingness to expand its horizons have made it the largest language in history (by lexicon). The upshot? Speakers have more ways to express themselves. Language Is about communicating, after all.
I know there are those of you out there who carry an utter disdain for ebonics, 1337, and other lower forms. Ironically, this attitude comes primarily from academia, an area with such elitistly developed modes of language use that 'hypocrisy' hardly covers what is going on. Nonetheless, I will agree wholeheartedly that they Are Lower forms.
Perhaps the reason I am so surprised at people who most want to 'preserve' the language, is that they are often the ones who seem to claim most vehemently their love of the language. Yet there is no joy, no laughter, no creation to their relationship with the language. Sorry. Of course there is, but only in rigidly prescribed manners. I'm not trying to slag these people, because I see some validity in what they are saying. I feel that a little must be added to it, though.
I think, (and I hope people will throw in their two cents), that the idea is people should understand the Formal Usage of a language before using other modes. Some will say this is essential. I would say important, but not essential. remember that the basic value of language is getting the idea across. If you hear something like ebonics and don't understand it, perhaps you haven't considered that the message is not intended for you. On the other hand, I do insist that if one is speaking ebonics to an academic, the speaker is at fault for not choosing clearly understandable speech. Not to let the 'learned' off the hook though, this principle goes both ways, a double edged knife!
The forging of new language is a wonderful, enjoyable and often intellectual pursuit. I cannot suggest it strongly enough as an activity befitting the rich, the poor, the woman, the boy, the smart, the stupid, the black, white, yellow and red - Everybody! The trick lies in how you impart your meaning to others.
Since I have already asked for responses, I shall make a more specific request: why not reply with a word or phrase of your own devising? State the meaning or intended usage. I promise I will try to use as many of them as I can. If anyone reading this loves language, then let us forge our own additions to english together.
One has to understand that language changes over time, like it or lump it. Over a long enough time it becomes a new language. It is fun to toy with those high school teachers who lament any change whatsoever, any usage that is less than "good english." This concept varies from teacher to teacher, of course - try comparing some teachers and see for yourself.
You see, the argument is quite old. Back in the 1600s there were also people of influence (men, primarily, because the patriarchy kept women down) who made the same complaints. The usage that bothered them is now standard english. At one point for instance, the use of contractions was abominable and low class. Incidentally, the vulgar and vernacular tend to be the crucible for new language - the birthplace of new language. It is of course foolish to resist the creation of new language. It is futile. All language changes.
Personally, I have always found it one of the more charming aspects of english that its adaptability, flexibility and willingness to expand its horizons have made it the largest language in history (by lexicon). The upshot? Speakers have more ways to express themselves. Language Is about communicating, after all.
I know there are those of you out there who carry an utter disdain for ebonics, 1337, and other lower forms. Ironically, this attitude comes primarily from academia, an area with such elitistly developed modes of language use that 'hypocrisy' hardly covers what is going on. Nonetheless, I will agree wholeheartedly that they Are Lower forms.
Perhaps the reason I am so surprised at people who most want to 'preserve' the language, is that they are often the ones who seem to claim most vehemently their love of the language. Yet there is no joy, no laughter, no creation to their relationship with the language. Sorry. Of course there is, but only in rigidly prescribed manners. I'm not trying to slag these people, because I see some validity in what they are saying. I feel that a little must be added to it, though.
I think, (and I hope people will throw in their two cents), that the idea is people should understand the Formal Usage of a language before using other modes. Some will say this is essential. I would say important, but not essential. remember that the basic value of language is getting the idea across. If you hear something like ebonics and don't understand it, perhaps you haven't considered that the message is not intended for you. On the other hand, I do insist that if one is speaking ebonics to an academic, the speaker is at fault for not choosing clearly understandable speech. Not to let the 'learned' off the hook though, this principle goes both ways, a double edged knife!
The forging of new language is a wonderful, enjoyable and often intellectual pursuit. I cannot suggest it strongly enough as an activity befitting the rich, the poor, the woman, the boy, the smart, the stupid, the black, white, yellow and red - Everybody! The trick lies in how you impart your meaning to others.
Since I have already asked for responses, I shall make a more specific request: why not reply with a word or phrase of your own devising? State the meaning or intended usage. I promise I will try to use as many of them as I can. If anyone reading this loves language, then let us forge our own additions to english together.
A side thought about language
So I was trying to find an image of Rose McGowan, because she is beautiful. This led, as anyone would reasonably guess, to a grammar quiz. Someone was urging whoever read his writing to preserve the english language. Pardon: the English language. I felt I should respond.
One has to understand that language changes over time, like it or lump it. Over a long enough time it becomes a new language. It is fun to toy with those high school teachers who lament any change whatsoever, any usage that is less than "good english." This concept varies from teacher to teacher, of course - try comparing some teachers and see for yourself.
You see, the argument is quite old. Back in the 1600s there were also people of influence (men, primarily, because the patriarchy kept women down) who made the same complaints. The usage that bothered them is now standard english. At one point for instance, the use of contractions was abominable and low class. Incidentally, the vulgar and vernacular tend to be the crucible for new language - the birthplace of new language. It is of course foolish to resist the creation of new language. It is futile. All language changes.
Personally, I have always found it one of the more charming aspects of english that its adaptability, flexibility and willingness to expand its horizons have made it the largest language in history (by lexicon). The upshot? Speakers have more ways to express themselves. Language Is about communicating, after all.
I know there are those of you out there who carry an utter disdain for ebonics, 1337, and other lower forms. Ironically, this attitude comes primarily from academia, an area with such elitistly developed modes of language use that 'hypocrisy' hardly covers what is going on. Nonetheless, I will agree wholeheartedly that they Are Lower forms.
Perhaps the reason I am so surprised at people who most want to 'preserve' the language, is that they are often the ones who seem to claim most vehemently their love of the language. Yet there is no joy, no laughter, no creation to their relationship with the language. Sorry. Of course there is, but only in rigidly prescribed manners. I'm not trying to slag these people, because I see some validity in what they are saying. I feel that a little must be added to it, though.
I think, (and I hope people will throw in their two cents), that the idea is people should understand the Formal Usage of a language before using other modes. Some will say this is essential. I would say important, but not essential. remember that the basic value of language is getting the idea across. If you hear something like ebonics and don't understand it, perhaps you haven't considered that the message is not intended for you. On the other hand, I do insist that if one is speaking ebonics to an academic, the speaker is at fault for not choosing clearly understandable speech. Not to let the 'learned' off the hook though, this principle goes both ways, a double edged knife!
The forging of new language is a wonderful, enjoyable and often intellectual pursuit. I cannot suggest it strongly enough as an activity befitting the rich, the poor, the woman, the boy, the smart, the stupid, the black, white, yellow and red - Everybody! The trick lies in how you impart your meaning to others.
Since I have already asked for responses, I shall make a more specific request: why not reply with a word or phrase of your own devising? State the meaning or intended usage. I promise I will try to use as many of them as I can. If anyone reading this loves language, then let us forge our own additions to english together.
One has to understand that language changes over time, like it or lump it. Over a long enough time it becomes a new language. It is fun to toy with those high school teachers who lament any change whatsoever, any usage that is less than "good english." This concept varies from teacher to teacher, of course - try comparing some teachers and see for yourself.
You see, the argument is quite old. Back in the 1600s there were also people of influence (men, primarily, because the patriarchy kept women down) who made the same complaints. The usage that bothered them is now standard english. At one point for instance, the use of contractions was abominable and low class. Incidentally, the vulgar and vernacular tend to be the crucible for new language - the birthplace of new language. It is of course foolish to resist the creation of new language. It is futile. All language changes.
Personally, I have always found it one of the more charming aspects of english that its adaptability, flexibility and willingness to expand its horizons have made it the largest language in history (by lexicon). The upshot? Speakers have more ways to express themselves. Language Is about communicating, after all.
I know there are those of you out there who carry an utter disdain for ebonics, 1337, and other lower forms. Ironically, this attitude comes primarily from academia, an area with such elitistly developed modes of language use that 'hypocrisy' hardly covers what is going on. Nonetheless, I will agree wholeheartedly that they Are Lower forms.
Perhaps the reason I am so surprised at people who most want to 'preserve' the language, is that they are often the ones who seem to claim most vehemently their love of the language. Yet there is no joy, no laughter, no creation to their relationship with the language. Sorry. Of course there is, but only in rigidly prescribed manners. I'm not trying to slag these people, because I see some validity in what they are saying. I feel that a little must be added to it, though.
I think, (and I hope people will throw in their two cents), that the idea is people should understand the Formal Usage of a language before using other modes. Some will say this is essential. I would say important, but not essential. remember that the basic value of language is getting the idea across. If you hear something like ebonics and don't understand it, perhaps you haven't considered that the message is not intended for you. On the other hand, I do insist that if one is speaking ebonics to an academic, the speaker is at fault for not choosing clearly understandable speech. Not to let the 'learned' off the hook though, this principle goes both ways, a double edged knife!
The forging of new language is a wonderful, enjoyable and often intellectual pursuit. I cannot suggest it strongly enough as an activity befitting the rich, the poor, the woman, the boy, the smart, the stupid, the black, white, yellow and red - Everybody! The trick lies in how you impart your meaning to others.
Since I have already asked for responses, I shall make a more specific request: why not reply with a word or phrase of your own devising? State the meaning or intended usage. I promise I will try to use as many of them as I can. If anyone reading this loves language, then let us forge our own additions to english together.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Touchstone friends
My friend Andrew is one of my touchstone friends. For those of you who don't know what a touchstone is, attend: The ancients found a special stone upon which you could scrape other substances and it would leave a mark. When Gold was set to it, the gold would leave a mark distinct from anything else. This was probably the earliest form of anti-fraud device for humankind.
Gold. I seek people who are as good as gold, in their own quirky ways. When I say someone is a touchstone, then, you can surmise that I am somehow comparing you to them. Well, that's a little off base. What I am thinking is that if you have a problem with such a person, odds are I will end up having a problem with you (sooner or later).
This is not a righteousness trip. It could well turn out that this is my loss. It doesn't mean the person in question is any less valid in their humanity, dignity, opinions, etc... it's just a guideline for me - a caveat, even. On occasion, I have ignored this impulse and once or twice it even worked out. Generally, it is a good impulse.
Gold. I seek people who are as good as gold, in their own quirky ways. When I say someone is a touchstone, then, you can surmise that I am somehow comparing you to them. Well, that's a little off base. What I am thinking is that if you have a problem with such a person, odds are I will end up having a problem with you (sooner or later).
This is not a righteousness trip. It could well turn out that this is my loss. It doesn't mean the person in question is any less valid in their humanity, dignity, opinions, etc... it's just a guideline for me - a caveat, even. On occasion, I have ignored this impulse and once or twice it even worked out. Generally, it is a good impulse.
Sudbury Transit gets a boost - or, Two!
By chance, I spoke with a co-ordinator for our fair city's illustrious transit system today. It was pleasant, he was a decent chap. I won't linger on the less significant biz, but I do want to share this:
I mentioned to him how ages ago in Hamilton, the transit system assigned every bus-stop a personal phone number. Riders could call the number and find out precisely how long until their next bus came. Aside from obvious slow-downs like black ice or blizzards, the system was invariably accurate to within a minute or two at the absolute outside.
O my faithful readers, you Know how I used to disdain Sudbury Transit when I first came here. One never realizes how good home was until they leave, eh? Well after I describe this to co-ordinator guy, he tells me that the bus authority are already in phase one of putting the same system into effect here! Phase One - the GPS system is being put into place even as I write this! Phone numbers are being arranged...
This is a major boon to bus users all over the city. Further, there are eleven (or was it thirteen?) new buses coming to Sudbury, to increase schedule times and run later. Hot Damn!
It is a common thing to work in threes on this blog, so I shall also mention the U-Pass system, which is hard at work for all full time undergrads at L.U. It's here now, and no amount of pissing and moaning can stop it. Frankly, I think it is great. Cambrian will be online with this idea next year. Hopefully, so will Boreal.
Exciting times in the mass transit milieu. For all the complaints I have had about buses here, I would like to say now that I am indeed impressed with the advances Sudbury Transit is making. Kudos to all bus-affiliated workers, you're on the right track.
I mentioned to him how ages ago in Hamilton, the transit system assigned every bus-stop a personal phone number. Riders could call the number and find out precisely how long until their next bus came. Aside from obvious slow-downs like black ice or blizzards, the system was invariably accurate to within a minute or two at the absolute outside.
O my faithful readers, you Know how I used to disdain Sudbury Transit when I first came here. One never realizes how good home was until they leave, eh? Well after I describe this to co-ordinator guy, he tells me that the bus authority are already in phase one of putting the same system into effect here! Phase One - the GPS system is being put into place even as I write this! Phone numbers are being arranged...
This is a major boon to bus users all over the city. Further, there are eleven (or was it thirteen?) new buses coming to Sudbury, to increase schedule times and run later. Hot Damn!
It is a common thing to work in threes on this blog, so I shall also mention the U-Pass system, which is hard at work for all full time undergrads at L.U. It's here now, and no amount of pissing and moaning can stop it. Frankly, I think it is great. Cambrian will be online with this idea next year. Hopefully, so will Boreal.
Exciting times in the mass transit milieu. For all the complaints I have had about buses here, I would like to say now that I am indeed impressed with the advances Sudbury Transit is making. Kudos to all bus-affiliated workers, you're on the right track.
Not just another manic Monday.
Not Manic at all, o commanders of the faithful, but instead very pleasant and rather relaxing. So here are the major concerns, along with their status.
Convocation. Well on my way. The final hurdle is being hurdled as we speak. My prof from up the hill at Huntington is helping to keep me on track. Just one more reason to suggest taking her classes. So at the end of the month, my poor immigrant parents will be able to attend my Grad.
OSAP. I have to register a three credit (i.e. half year) course, to upgrade to full time studenthood. I am currently most interested in Engl 2827, documentary film-making, but it doesn't appear to be offered. For further commentary on this issue, see previous blogs relating to school and administration.
I listened to my Happy music and had a cool discussion with a co-ordinator of Sudbury Transit. (see next blog).
Then I left school, while my friend's jump drive (which I borrowed) was still in the computer in the lab. A quick but pleasant jot over to the Uni and I had it back in my hot little mitts. Kinda restores your faith in people not stealing stuff, eh?
Dinner was a delish chili, made by Virginia. Chris was along for dinner as well. As we digested, Verge fought terror, Chris Limewired the new Rammstein and I chatted online with Verge's friend Lisa. Lisa is outgoing and fun, we've chatted before - it's time well spent.
I'm just thinking how nicely a cig would finish this evening... mmmm cigs!
Convocation. Well on my way. The final hurdle is being hurdled as we speak. My prof from up the hill at Huntington is helping to keep me on track. Just one more reason to suggest taking her classes. So at the end of the month, my poor immigrant parents will be able to attend my Grad.
OSAP. I have to register a three credit (i.e. half year) course, to upgrade to full time studenthood. I am currently most interested in Engl 2827, documentary film-making, but it doesn't appear to be offered. For further commentary on this issue, see previous blogs relating to school and administration.
I listened to my Happy music and had a cool discussion with a co-ordinator of Sudbury Transit. (see next blog).
Then I left school, while my friend's jump drive (which I borrowed) was still in the computer in the lab. A quick but pleasant jot over to the Uni and I had it back in my hot little mitts. Kinda restores your faith in people not stealing stuff, eh?
Dinner was a delish chili, made by Virginia. Chris was along for dinner as well. As we digested, Verge fought terror, Chris Limewired the new Rammstein and I chatted online with Verge's friend Lisa. Lisa is outgoing and fun, we've chatted before - it's time well spent.
I'm just thinking how nicely a cig would finish this evening... mmmm cigs!
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Stalking about campus with a Rifle...
I am not about to do it. I have far too much restraint and self control to go all Marc LePine on you guys. But here's an insight as to why that shit happens:
Administration / Bureaucracy
Now this is a rant, so if you've had a bad enough day and only want positive influi, then stop reading now. Months and months ago I applied for the Autumn convocation. At the time I asked "is there anything else I should know or do to make sure there are no snags?" The reassuring reply: "No, no. They would contact you to let you know if there is anything." So far so hoopy.
A couple months pass, I hear nothing. Being both shady and suspicious myself, I decide to make double sure. "Any problems at all?" I ask. "It's all good," the reassuring response. I felt better. Now, any reasonable person would leave it at that, comfortable in knowing everything is just so. I, as I stated earlier in different words, am hardly so reasonable. This is a condition instilled in large part by the fact that I have worked intimately with the bureaucracy of Laurentian University, viewing firsthand the inefficiency, ineptness, and general devil may care attitudes that have become so entrenched. The upshot: I went back twice more to check everything is going well and there are no blips on the radar. O faithful reader, you can likely guess that I was told "there are no blips on the radar at all." If you do the math, you will see that I had Four separate, individual assurances.
In the meantime, my poor immigrant parents, who got off the boat in search of a better life in the new lands are dying to see their son graduate, for this symbolizes the aspirations attainable in the land of promise and plenty. Mither writes often to find out any news about it. The poor dear.
Today, Sept. 27, Y.T. gets a letter from L.U. from which I quote:
"The Senate Committee on Academic Regulations and Award has reviewed your application for the Fall 2006 Convocation. According to our records, you will not be eligible to graduate as you will not have completed all of the program requirements."
I was fulminating! For the sake of you proper ladies and gentlemen readers, I will except the stream of invective that flowed from my mouth for the next half hour. Into L.U.'s admin I go, approaching critical mass. It seems I have a fail mark in RLST 3196 and I don't have the course COST 3006. Two problems right? - Wrong!
For three years I have pointed out the faults of the school in cross-referencing courses, in their lack of courses (the reason I am not in a Master's Program right now!), in their inability to give proper information on any of these topics. Have they ever once listened? Apparently not! You see. RLST 3196 ACTUALLY IS COST 3006! They Are the Same Freakin' Course! Not that administration can comprehend this, though it is their creation to begin with. Eventually this becomes understood and to give credit where due, Colette Rainville at the Registrar's Office took care of that lickety split. Like, on the spot as I watched, as fast as ever any problem was solved in that office. Thank you, Colette, you are wonderful!
Now the problem of a "Fail" still stood out. Here's the story on that. I took the course RLST 3196, and I kicked it's ass. For the most part, I kicked it's ass. You see, I failed to hand in one essay. I believe it was worth 25%. I had calculated my marks though and without the essay, I still had a definite pass (in fact a B if I remember correctly). A "B," without the essay! Instead of simply giving my lower mark, the prof decided to give me an incomplete. This dragged out for a while, in fact all last year. The incomplete cocooned on my transcript and eventually emerged as a beautiful jewel-winged "Fail." I spoke to the prof. She said "just gimme an essay." I thought "just gimme a lower damned grade."
Whatever! I gave a shortened essay early in the summer this year. I still have a Fail. I cannot reach the prof. She is not available. There are no office hours for her posted. The secretary has no clue when the prof is around. I can say from experience that the prof does not spend much time at the University outside of her classes. Classes, I might add, that were fun, interesting and stimulating. I would recommend them if not for the bullshit I am wading through right now. -Don't let it happen to you!
So I ask the secretary "when is her next class?"
Secretary: "Well, she doesn't have anything tomorrow..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
etc. for fully a minute and a half, when I finally realize she is not going to say anything else. "I Suppose the next day is Friday then," I impose on her, "Does she teach anything Friday?.."
"Oh, let's see..."
(fucking obstinate dullard).
So there it is, I go in Friday morning and I will either come out graduating or with somebody's face in my hands, to be fashioned into a grisly mask later on.
I suppose that if I weren't letting my emotions out so strongly, one might pity me. You all should have the good sense to fear this happening to you, as you likely know about this administration first hand. I Almost have an Aristotelian tragedy on my hands. (^_^).
Friday. If I'm smiling, say hallo. If my jaw muscles appear tensed and my eyes dart around a lot, stay the hell away from me!
Administration / Bureaucracy
Now this is a rant, so if you've had a bad enough day and only want positive influi, then stop reading now. Months and months ago I applied for the Autumn convocation. At the time I asked "is there anything else I should know or do to make sure there are no snags?" The reassuring reply: "No, no. They would contact you to let you know if there is anything." So far so hoopy.
A couple months pass, I hear nothing. Being both shady and suspicious myself, I decide to make double sure. "Any problems at all?" I ask. "It's all good," the reassuring response. I felt better. Now, any reasonable person would leave it at that, comfortable in knowing everything is just so. I, as I stated earlier in different words, am hardly so reasonable. This is a condition instilled in large part by the fact that I have worked intimately with the bureaucracy of Laurentian University, viewing firsthand the inefficiency, ineptness, and general devil may care attitudes that have become so entrenched. The upshot: I went back twice more to check everything is going well and there are no blips on the radar. O faithful reader, you can likely guess that I was told "there are no blips on the radar at all." If you do the math, you will see that I had Four separate, individual assurances.
In the meantime, my poor immigrant parents, who got off the boat in search of a better life in the new lands are dying to see their son graduate, for this symbolizes the aspirations attainable in the land of promise and plenty. Mither writes often to find out any news about it. The poor dear.
Today, Sept. 27, Y.T. gets a letter from L.U. from which I quote:
"The Senate Committee on Academic Regulations and Award has reviewed your application for the Fall 2006 Convocation. According to our records, you will not be eligible to graduate as you will not have completed all of the program requirements."
I was fulminating! For the sake of you proper ladies and gentlemen readers, I will except the stream of invective that flowed from my mouth for the next half hour. Into L.U.'s admin I go, approaching critical mass. It seems I have a fail mark in RLST 3196 and I don't have the course COST 3006. Two problems right? - Wrong!
For three years I have pointed out the faults of the school in cross-referencing courses, in their lack of courses (the reason I am not in a Master's Program right now!), in their inability to give proper information on any of these topics. Have they ever once listened? Apparently not! You see. RLST 3196 ACTUALLY IS COST 3006! They Are the Same Freakin' Course! Not that administration can comprehend this, though it is their creation to begin with. Eventually this becomes understood and to give credit where due, Colette Rainville at the Registrar's Office took care of that lickety split. Like, on the spot as I watched, as fast as ever any problem was solved in that office. Thank you, Colette, you are wonderful!
Now the problem of a "Fail" still stood out. Here's the story on that. I took the course RLST 3196, and I kicked it's ass. For the most part, I kicked it's ass. You see, I failed to hand in one essay. I believe it was worth 25%. I had calculated my marks though and without the essay, I still had a definite pass (in fact a B if I remember correctly). A "B," without the essay! Instead of simply giving my lower mark, the prof decided to give me an incomplete. This dragged out for a while, in fact all last year. The incomplete cocooned on my transcript and eventually emerged as a beautiful jewel-winged "Fail." I spoke to the prof. She said "just gimme an essay." I thought "just gimme a lower damned grade."
Whatever! I gave a shortened essay early in the summer this year. I still have a Fail. I cannot reach the prof. She is not available. There are no office hours for her posted. The secretary has no clue when the prof is around. I can say from experience that the prof does not spend much time at the University outside of her classes. Classes, I might add, that were fun, interesting and stimulating. I would recommend them if not for the bullshit I am wading through right now. -Don't let it happen to you!
So I ask the secretary "when is her next class?"
Secretary: "Well, she doesn't have anything tomorrow..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
etc. for fully a minute and a half, when I finally realize she is not going to say anything else. "I Suppose the next day is Friday then," I impose on her, "Does she teach anything Friday?.."
"Oh, let's see..."
(fucking obstinate dullard).
So there it is, I go in Friday morning and I will either come out graduating or with somebody's face in my hands, to be fashioned into a grisly mask later on.
I suppose that if I weren't letting my emotions out so strongly, one might pity me. You all should have the good sense to fear this happening to you, as you likely know about this administration first hand. I Almost have an Aristotelian tragedy on my hands. (^_^).
Friday. If I'm smiling, say hallo. If my jaw muscles appear tensed and my eyes dart around a lot, stay the hell away from me!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
