Wednesday, 31 December 2008


Happy New Year!

I wish you all love, happiness and warm hugs. Enjoy tonight and see you all again in 2009!


Well, I certainly got out today.

My mom declared today "errands day"and so we set out to complete the tasks on the list.

Six hours of shopping is a lot. Except, apparently, if you're me. I am A Shopper. I love to shop. I sort of hate myself, except that I love my clothes. You could tell me that I have way more clothes than I could wear in a month... but all I would hear is "LC! You have wonderful, beautiful clothes!"

A few items to remember:
+I shop very little while in Halifax. Only when my mom is visiting.
+I spend little money in Halifax. I have spent a grand total of 5 bucks on booze. No lies.
+I shop consignment and sales? So it's not as much money as it could be?*
+I have lots of money saved in the bank, so I'm not in a Shopoholic kind of situation.

Phew. I feel much better.

Monday, 29 December 2008

Oranges are delicious?

Ok, Ottawa. I'm done.

You have a bus strike. I can't go anywhere.

I am sick of watching TLC all day every day. It is not interesting. Admittedly, it's my fault I am watching TLC and not putting the effort into figuring out plugging in the DVD player and watching something more diverting like West Wing. Or, you know, picking up a book. But my poor brain reads so much all the time, I read in the evenings and that's the perfect amount for me.

I would rather be seeing friends and going and doing things and you know, leaving the house. Accomplishing things. The bus strike makes that tricky, but the main issue is the lack of people to hang out with. I forgot how boring my life in Ottawa is. I don't have a tight group of friends I left behing when I went away. I mostly hung out with my mom on weekends. Living in Halifax, things are different.

I have no fun, witty ending for this post. Mmm, oranges are delicious.

Tuesday, 23 December 2008

Christmas Party Weekend

This weekend was the weekend of Christmas parties.

Friday night was my mom's work's party. I always go as my mom's date since my dad hates parties and I love the people from my mom's office. I worked for them for a weekend at the booth at a fair and I went to the conference in Cuba. It was a fun night; I got to catch up with Gen, practise my french, and sit at the fun table. Plus, it seems like at those parties, everyone thinks I'm super amazing. I'm guessing I'm the only teenager they see on a regular basis, because if they think I'm awesome, they should meet my peers. There are some very smart people there.

The party was at the NAC. Because of the snowstorm, my mom invited her division to come pre-party chez nous since we live so close to the office. We got all dolled up, doing makeup and hair. The cats hid upstairs.

I think they throw a great party. The usual dinner and drinks setup, and no dancing this year -- they decided to forgo the DJ this year. The most exciting part of the night is the big raffle. Fundraised money and donations from the vendors they work with during the year makeup the raffle. Gifts are disguised so you can't tell what is in the package you're getting. Your name is drawn and you pick a prize. Everything from Sens tickets to Godiva chocolate baskets to Ipods to fancy thermoses, and there's a prize for everyone. Everyone is happy. I picked on my mom's behalf, and she is super psyched by her new fancy label maker.

The other Christmas party I went to was a secret santa gift exchange. The party got off to a slow start, but once more people I knew arrived, I had fun. Probably the white russians helped too. And it was close to my house so I was home in bed by midnight. Mmm, cosy.

Thursday, 18 December 2008

All in a Day

Yesterday did not start off very well. I started the day with a two hour car ride from Orleans to work. I was half an hour late. Oh yeah, this is why I would rather live in a box on Bank street than in Orleans. Ugh.

The day got much better after work. Sarah, one of the producers for CBC One's All In A Day shops at the store where my mom and I work, and my mom mentioned to her that I'm a big CBC fangirl. She offered to have me over to the studio to see them make the show. I was super excited; I changed my clothes like fifty times.

Sarah was so great; she introduced me to everyone and showed me around. I stood in the middle of the floor with all the reporters and everyone sitting in their cubicles, meeting, yelling across aisles, passing papers, everyone moving and typing and talking. It was so exciting.

When I arrived, it was half an hour before the show started. Ten minutes before the show, everyone was still sitting at computers writing things, editing, checking, totally calm. We didn't even go over to the studio until five to three and the host strolled in at 3:04. I kept looking around like "WHAT?! The show starts in FIVE MINUTES why are you not freaking out????" It was sort of weird, hearing the host reading over intros behind me, and I could hear Rita Celli in a cubicle nearby.

Sarah was directing that day, which meant I got to see her actually making the show. We sat in the control room and Sarah did her thing, calling up guests and organizing everything with Pierre, the "button pusher and switch switcher" as I described him to my mother. A woman came in with a fish for one segment, and I got to eat some of it. The best part was when Michael Bhardwaj came in to do an arts report. Sarah introduced me to him and I got to say "Oh, we've actually already met!" and then we had a chat about life and stuff. I felt pretty cool; "oh yeah, I know people. I'm all connected and stuff."

The whole thing was great. I just kept thinking "This is what I want to do". I didn't even feel the cold walking home.

Monday, 15 December 2008

Dear Santa

This evening was spent adjusting the tree ("No... left. Back. Forward now. Is it leaning right?") and decorating it. We opened the storage boxes and pulled out old ornaments and centrepieces and twinkle lights. With them came the smells of last Christmas, the whos and wheres of each ornament, the fights over whose turn it is to put the star on the tree*.

The tree and house are decorated. The stockings have been dusted off. Santa's cookie plate is out. Everyone is excited for Christmas... but the jig is up. I am now eighteen, and my sister is fifteen and everyone knows not to look in the trunk of the car or the cupboard in the basement. Be this as it may, Santa still visits our house every year.

When I got home last week, my mom told me to write my letter to Santa. My sister and I sat down in front of the TV to hang out and write them with pencil crayons and coloured paper. She seemed to have no problem writing hers out, but I was at a loss. I'm at home, with my family. We have a beautiful real tree that makes the house smell wonderful (my favourite part). I got some nice new clothes while shopping with my mom at my birthday and I already have the assurance of one visit from my mom next semester. I whine about my cell phone, because I'm the product of a consumerist society, but really it's fine, and my vague dreams about dabbling in photography don't warrant spending a ton of money. The only things I want are things I have to work for myself: learning to knit beyond "scarf", getting an A on a paper, coming to terms with leaving the nest.

So Santa, all I've got for you this year is this: I like books? And world peace would be nice. PS: Check out and you can't go wrong.**

** is a dangerous thing, my friends. A girl can lose the better part of an evening staring at lovely handmade camis and cardigans.

Wednesday, 10 December 2008

Jon Stewart always makes me laugh

Did anyone else see "Provinces in Peril" on the Daily Show on Monday night? I heard about it after and caught it on YouTube and laughed a lot. It drags at the end with the correspondents, but the beginning is gold. It plays up the classic, and true, Americans-don't-know-anything-about-Canada stereotype. Who doesn't love that?

I go away for one semester, and all hell breaks loose. Ottawa arts funding mess, Ontario goes poor, attempted crazy driving restrictions, transit strike and way more snow than anyone needs. Phew. At least I'm here now. The restrictions failed, and I brought some warmer weather for next week. Enjoy. But could we please work on this transit strike business? I only have one more Christmas present to buy. And I am NOT hiking around in the snow.

I'm not just being prissy -- my mono has reinstated long afternoon naps. Walking around the house makes my heart race. It's a little scary. I tried to work on my paper this afternoon, but I got a splitting headache and had to sleep for about 3 hours. Mono totally sucks.

Rosie likes the naps. She spends every moment draped across me, purring. I think she missed me. I missed her.

Sunday, 7 December 2008

Last Day in Halifax

I literally did not turn on my computer for five days last week. Not only did I not turn it on, I didn't even think about turning it on. For five days. I didn't think about the emails piling up in my inbox, the blogs I could be reading, the posts I ought to write, or even Facebook. My mind was completely stuffed full of one semester of FYP. So, instead of writing about my life, I was contemplating Iamblichus's theurgy, Dionysius's hierarchies, Plato's 3 waves in his Republic, and Dante's Paradiso, among a million other things. Ask me anything about the heaven of the Sun. Go ahead, I dare you.

All this was for my one and only exam. This is a mixed blessing. I have one exam, yes, which means less time doing exams, but this one exam counts for 4 of my credits, since it's the FYP exam and FYP is 4 credits. So if you screw that up, you've screwed up 4/5 of the exams for the semester. Now, to add to this stress, the exam is a fifteen minute oral exam.

For a week, the King's campus rings with the sound of studying. The oral requires a special kind of studying. Solo re-reading of texts and notes will only get you so far. If you want to really study for orals, you need to find some other fyppers and talk. Ask questions. Teach one another. Really get the texts and the philosophers enough to be able to compare them and relate them to one another or... anything really. In orals, questions like "What would Plato think of lunch?" and "Relate this watch to Aristotle" come up. Now, if this doesn't sound fun enough for you, I add that the oral exams are conducted by the tutors and lecturers of the Foundation Year Programme, ones that you haven't spent time talking to and getting to know in tutorial, no, you get someone you don't know. Someone whose voice you have only heard at the front of the lecture hall.

I was shaking when I arrived outside my exam room. I wasn't sure if I would be able to speak at all, let alone speak intelligently. After ten minutes of deep breathing exercises, I was invited into the exam by Dr Curran, who informed me that he was "the bad cop". Great.

They seemed fairly receptive, nodding and agreeing with me, but things got a little iffy with the Greek Tragedies we read this year. I scraped by on that one though, and I think it was ok. Maybe I killed it and I'll get a fabulous grade. I can dream right?

I'm supposed to be working on my 2000 word position paper right now, but my brain is sadly turned to "off". I worked on it a lot yesterday and woke up this morning for breakfast at 9 but still felt pretty sleepy, so I went back to bed. I woke up 4 hours later. My poor body is telling me something about the state of my mono. So I've decided to take advantage of my paper extension and chill out today. I have a 1300 word outline and 300 words of actual essay, so I guess I'm doing ok.

I will be in Ottawa TOMORROW! I'm excited for the snow (the crunch, crunch, crunch) and my family and my cats. I'm so excited for Christmas. I'm so excited to just relax and not cram reading into my brain 24/7. I'm excited for my mother's Christmas cookies. So, so excited. And brocoli with the tops on...