At the bottom of the "Things We Desperately Need" chalkboard at work is the "Question of the Week." It used to simply pit two characters against each other, who wouldn't normally be in a dueling situation, so to speak. Like Elmer Fudd vs Fred Flinstone. Old School Ozzy Osbourne vs Old School Alice Cooper. A buffalo with a shark tied to its back vs an eagle clutching a crocodile. At least, there used to be a question of the week, back when there used to be a manager who invented the concept and devised the questions. In recent weeks, the Question of the Day has remained blank.
The owner's mother now works at the new store. She is the one whom all us old-school employees trained with. Somehow, she manages to instill the strictest sense of loyalty and discipline just by being present. You address her as Mrs. K——. You do what she says. I've actually bowed to her on occasion. Seriously, bowed; subtly, yet undeniably. She sometimes struggles with English, but if you even think about sneaking a look to a coworker for a little translation aid, you're doomed. I love her to bits.
I was cutting up a baguette the other day, after being enlisted to do so by Mrs. K——, except we don't refer to her as Mrs. K—— unless we're actually talking to her. Let's pretend her name is Judy. There is one other fulltime employee who, along with me, is the last surviving member of our particular training group. Work is terribly dull, long, and tiresome when he's not there, but an endless series of jokes (practical and otherwise) and laughing when he is. "Do you understand the desire to break things into the smallest possible pieces and stuff them into cups?" he asked, glancing over from where he stood rinsing dishes two feet away. Actually, I do. Luther. I replied in the negative. "What are you doing?" "I was told to do this," I replied. There was no need to specify who had told me to do so. "If someone told you to... eat whatever's in this sink drain," he said, fitting gestures to words, "would you do it?" That's an easy question. "If Judy told you to eat it, would you?" I hesitated for a full 10 seconds before honestly saying, "I don't know."
It's not written on the chalkboard, nor is likely to ever be. But, the best question of the week to date is, "What wouldn't you do for Judy?"
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
musicless
Gosh, this is the second week in a row that my Analysis class is canceled. Analysis is the one regular thing in my schedule these days, and it's also one of the most calming things in my schedule. I'm going to start on a new composition; it's been too long. It's also been far too long since I've even seen a piano, much less played one. ...actually, I just saw ~20 pianos in the music store the other day... but that doesn't really count.
It's harder to walk up the hill to the bus stop when it's sunny out, like today. I just feel like lying down on the grass and dozing. I'm thinking, blue next, soon.
It's harder to walk up the hill to the bus stop when it's sunny out, like today. I just feel like lying down on the grass and dozing. I'm thinking, blue next, soon.
Wake up and give a shit
AAAAHHHHH!!!! no WAY! Why on earth would you sell that??? Some of those contained cell phones, and last Wednesday the lucky people who got those cellphones experienced this. That is so freaking, freaking awesome; I severely wish that I were part of it. Although, it seems to me that it would be all too easy for some crazy fanatics to turn this into something nasty. All those people who went to the surprise concert signed waivers and gave up all forms of communication with the outside world. I guess people are willing to go pretty deep into this. Open Source Resistance describes it thusly:
(I swiped that from an ETS thread.) That's the tv tower at Alexanderplatz! In Berlin! And that's just one example. You should also check out the artwork that people have submitted to OSR, here. I notice a lot of them say things like "you have a voice; use it." I don't really believe this. I've never felt as though I had a voice, at least not as an individual. Individuals don't have voices; it's only when we band together that it makes a difference. Or maybe I'm wrong. I hope so.
On April 18, 2007, Open Source Resistance hosted a gathering in LA. Musicians, artists, and ordinary people gathered in support of a simple message: speak up to defend the things that matter to you. The concert planned to end the evening was broken up by police.Year Zero has every potential to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, if only because of fanatics. Not that that's bad; I'm a fanatic myself. I think the line between the ARG and reality is blurring. I mean, have you seen all those AIR posters plastered everywhere? (I haven't; I wish I had.) Look at this:
If They stop you from speaking, they’re killing freedom. If you just can’t be bothered to speak, freedom will
die just the same.
Wake up and give a shit.
(I swiped that from an ETS thread.) That's the tv tower at Alexanderplatz! In Berlin! And that's just one example. You should also check out the artwork that people have submitted to OSR, here. I notice a lot of them say things like "you have a voice; use it." I don't really believe this. I've never felt as though I had a voice, at least not as an individual. Individuals don't have voices; it's only when we band together that it makes a difference. Or maybe I'm wrong. I hope so.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Happy Earth Day
Oops, apparently today was Earth Day. I celebrated Earth Day by working an 8.5-hour-shift and then eating some crackers. I don't go to Starbucks anymore, I just sit in a corner at the Awfully Waffley and read Pickwick.
Fun Fact: UVic's English Grad Studies department has ~80% SSHRC students this year, or something crazy like that. The Graduate Chair is trying to entice me by saying it's "the most lucrative department in Canada" and by adding another thousand to my fellowship. I'll be meeting with him on Tuesday, to "discuss" things like "funding" and "research." I expect their idea of research is translating old moldy Latin or (much worse) Anglo Saxon. I'm still undecided on this whole grad studies dl.
Fun Fact: UVic's English Grad Studies department has ~80% SSHRC students this year, or something crazy like that. The Graduate Chair is trying to entice me by saying it's "the most lucrative department in Canada" and by adding another thousand to my fellowship. I'll be meeting with him on Tuesday, to "discuss" things like "funding" and "research." I expect their idea of research is translating old moldy Latin or (much worse) Anglo Saxon. I'm still undecided on this whole grad studies dl.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
(almost) all about work
Yesterday was a great day at work. I poured a near-perfect rosette; wish I'd had a camera. Haven't so much as practiced with water since then, though. I'm starting to get a barista hand; all that remains is to get espresso grounds permanently worked into the cracks.
But the really great part, which was even more of a personal triumph than the rosette, was when The Frail started playing on the ipod, though I was the only person in the store who could hear it since I was lounging right in front of the only speaker (the sound system having been previously croasted at the staff party). I got all excited and incredulous at that first chord (for a generally deaf person, I pick up some things pretty quick), and started babbling at my coworker [who had never listened to NIN before :0] about Year Zero, which, I might add, is express-posting itself to me as we speak!
The owner is away on a 3-day holiday, which means his brother is acting in his stead, which means I got to listen to Radiohead all morning. So much better than the Verve Remixed, though that returned in the afternoon.
I think the Awfully Waffley's suspicious about where I go on my breaks. The owner remarked that I always look like I'm going to a top-secret location. My co asked me where I ate lunch, and I (truthfully) told him I don't really eat lunch. I think of a muffin more as second breakfast than a lunch. Today the Starbucks people called me a traitor, but they're pretty proud that I go there. Yesterday they asked me if I needed more hours, and if I'd come work there too. I don't dare tell them that I'm the supervisor.
I'm hatching a plan to get the screever to come draw on our walls... I don't think it'll go down too well, even though he's an incredible artist.
The VCM is having a 55-day, first-ever, annual music festival. So many great masterclasses; I wish I were taking an instrument. Hopefully I can take violin lessons this summer.
My online grad studies application still says "refused" :( I'd really like them to change that soon.
But the really great part, which was even more of a personal triumph than the rosette, was when The Frail started playing on the ipod, though I was the only person in the store who could hear it since I was lounging right in front of the only speaker (the sound system having been previously croasted at the staff party). I got all excited and incredulous at that first chord (for a generally deaf person, I pick up some things pretty quick), and started babbling at my coworker [who had never listened to NIN before :0] about Year Zero, which, I might add, is express-posting itself to me as we speak!
The owner is away on a 3-day holiday, which means his brother is acting in his stead, which means I got to listen to Radiohead all morning. So much better than the Verve Remixed, though that returned in the afternoon.
I think the Awfully Waffley's suspicious about where I go on my breaks. The owner remarked that I always look like I'm going to a top-secret location. My co asked me where I ate lunch, and I (truthfully) told him I don't really eat lunch. I think of a muffin more as second breakfast than a lunch. Today the Starbucks people called me a traitor, but they're pretty proud that I go there. Yesterday they asked me if I needed more hours, and if I'd come work there too. I don't dare tell them that I'm the supervisor.
I'm hatching a plan to get the screever to come draw on our walls... I don't think it'll go down too well, even though he's an incredible artist.
The VCM is having a 55-day, first-ever, annual music festival. So many great masterclasses; I wish I were taking an instrument. Hopefully I can take violin lessons this summer.
My online grad studies application still says "refused" :( I'd really like them to change that soon.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Breathing easier
This weekend was terribly stressful, but things are starting to get ironed out now.
I'm glad I got accepted to UVic, but that won't make September any easier.
- UVic initially refused my application(!), which worried me all week. But then I told them that must be a mistake, and they agreed that it must be, and would I please do my Master's there if they gave me $4000 on top of my SSHRC. The Master's program there will only take 12 months to do (it's course-based), so maybe I can look forward to doing my ARCT sooner than expected. But, I should really become semi-proficient in Anglo Saxon and Latin before September.
- Work is getting crazy. Due to some political maneuvers and fatal errors, the ex-manager is now banished to the old store. This means I have been thrown into baristaing. It may also mean they will need me during the week rather than on weekends, which suits me just fine. But, for some reason I've been sliding steeply downward in all areas at work, and am no longer good at anything. It's very embarrassing.
- Analysis exam is fast approaching.
- I think I'm going deaf. Or maybe my hearing is too sensitive. One of the two.
- Deafness: I can't hear what anybody says most of the time, which has caused me to pretty much be under order-taking-probation as of yesterday, which means I get severe flac(k) whenever I ring in drinks wrong. It would help immensely if people didn't have accents. I mean, if you ask me for "skeeeem meeelk," is it any wonder I give you steamed milk?
- Sensitivity: I haven't been able to steam milk into proper microfoam consistency at all lately, because I can't tell when it "sounds" the right consistency. It's not the deafness, this time, it's quite the opposite. The owner keeps telling me that you can tell the milk is right when you hear the pitch change. Then, when he's demonstrating, he stops it at a certain point and says "there, did you hear the pitch change just then?" Actually, I hear the pitch changing the entire time. It doesn't just suddenly drop a pitch, it's a continual downward glissando from the moment you stop chirping. Like, beeeeeaaaaaaauuuuuuuoooooooooo-p, except much longer.
I'm glad I got accepted to UVic, but that won't make September any easier.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Waiting (probably until Year Zero rolls around)
What is frustrating? This and this, and there's nothing to do about either except wait.
I'm on 5-day weekend until Wednesday, after which time I'll be training on weekends.
Year Zero makes me want to write a book like 1984, except set in the present. Maybe they'll let me put my SSHRC towards comparing dystopian literature/media; that would be awesome. All these great ideas I have just happen to be already done or in progress. The writer in me marvels at the creative genius behind this; I mean, all these clues that nobody knows what they're about have some place in the world of Year Zero, and will come to light in their proper place. It's like a novel that's currently going on, in real life, and that elapses at the same rate that we do. But much more involved and intriguing.
I'm on 5-day weekend until Wednesday, after which time I'll be training on weekends.
Year Zero makes me want to write a book like 1984, except set in the present. Maybe they'll let me put my SSHRC towards comparing dystopian literature/media; that would be awesome. All these great ideas I have just happen to be already done or in progress. The writer in me marvels at the creative genius behind this; I mean, all these clues that nobody knows what they're about have some place in the world of Year Zero, and will come to light in their proper place. It's like a novel that's currently going on, in real life, and that elapses at the same rate that we do. But much more involved and intriguing.
Friday, April 06, 2007
The Road to Baristaship
I was trying to stay out of the Year Zero conspiracy (or whatever you call it). At first I thought it was probably stupid, just a marketing scheme or something and definite time-waster; then I thought it looked pretty interesting but still would require a lot of time to catch up on. But now I've finally listened to the album (which I LOVE and will probably keep on an endless loop for a long time) and perused some of the websites, and it's definitely awesome, creepy, and yes, it will take me weeks to catch up and explore everything that's been discovered so far, not to mention everything that isn't yet well understood or is still to come. If dystopian worlds interest you, you should check it out. The whole thing makes me feel slightly sick, though; I always get confused when I get caught up in dystopian worlds, and start thinking the real world is actually kind of like that, and get all anxious and worried. Same thing happened after I read 1984 and watched V for Vendetta.
The rest of this post is part of what I was going to post yesterday:
Bah crap, today has been a pretty horrid day. First off it took 2 rounds to get rid of a worser sort of migraine, which probably made me look like I was totally stoned at work, which is probably why the owner asked me if I was bored with my duties ("You look like you're bored") and wouldn't I like to try something else? How about culinary? No? Barista, then. We need a weekend barista, so why don't they just go ahead and schedule me in for next weekend, and I can feel free to come on my own time to practice.
Oh, but I forgot the first two parts, where I got in trouble first for using the wrong coat hanger, and second for stacking two identical dish covers.
Two hours of steaming milk. Two hours, I tell you, in which I went through roughly 8 litres of milk in the pursuit of perfectly concocted microfoam. So frustrating at first, because it all turned out the same, and it always looked the same to me, but it was too thick, or too thin, or my "vortex was too violent", but I had to "ok, try again" time after time until the end of my shift.
At any rate, apparently I've mastered 2% and skim microfoam on my first day, whoopdido. All I was able/allowed to turn out were one chai latte ("that last one was much too thick... oh look, there's an order for a chai latte; that needs to be thicker, so try to remember what you did last time and do it again") and some skim microfoam for a latte (which someone else poured). And brought on the second half of the migraine. The right side doesn't make me quite so nauseous, but it does make everything between my eyebrow and chin go numb.
So why was I thrown into barista traineeship in the first place? It's rather comical. The owner has been hinting for a few weeks that I should have a meeting with him to decide where my future with the Awfully Waffley should lie. Today he kind of tricked me into suggesting an answer (I said something to the effect that I'd much rather be a barista than build saucy cold potatoes all day) and proclaimed that I would henceforth train to be the weekend head barista manager person. Well, I don't want to work weekends, blast it all. Plus, the girl who started with me has been training to be weekend barista for over a week now. I said, well she really wants to be barista, I know, so why don't I try something else? That's not on weekends? He said, well, I think it would be good to have a little competition, to see who will become weekend barista fastest, plus she's a student and won't always be available on weekends. I said, oh ok, but I'd like to sit down and talk with you sometime anyway, about my future here. He said, no, we'll try you as barista, it's a good skill to have anyway, and if you decide it's not for you you can try something else after.
I'll give it a week, or maybe a little more, then break the news to him that I shall also soon be a student who is required not to take full-time employment. And that I will definitely not be working weekends while I'm a student. And might not even be here anymore by then anyway. And that I wasn't bored, I was just having a bad day. And if my weeriness is well-founded, medical concerns will force me to not be a barista. The steaming makes my eye pound and temple throb; I also can't handle the caffeine involved in the job. A barista has to keep tasting the shots every day to make the necessary adjustments. "You're not a coffee drinker, are you? You'll have to start tasting the espresso." It all tastes the same to me anyway (bad; like alcohol which tastes bad no matter what the drink is but you just have to pour it down your throat so as to avoid the tastebuds, that's why people always laugh at me for guzzling drinks so quickly). How should I know if it's sour, or if the shot was 4 seconds too long, or whatever?
The only good part of the day was when my nemesis trainee came in and asked me if I would take her Sunday shift. I have never been so firm or unhesitating as when I replied "NO." And my muffin at Starbucks was pretty awesome.
The rest of this post is part of what I was going to post yesterday:
Bah crap, today has been a pretty horrid day. First off it took 2 rounds to get rid of a worser sort of migraine, which probably made me look like I was totally stoned at work, which is probably why the owner asked me if I was bored with my duties ("You look like you're bored") and wouldn't I like to try something else? How about culinary? No? Barista, then. We need a weekend barista, so why don't they just go ahead and schedule me in for next weekend, and I can feel free to come on my own time to practice.
Oh, but I forgot the first two parts, where I got in trouble first for using the wrong coat hanger, and second for stacking two identical dish covers.
Two hours of steaming milk. Two hours, I tell you, in which I went through roughly 8 litres of milk in the pursuit of perfectly concocted microfoam. So frustrating at first, because it all turned out the same, and it always looked the same to me, but it was too thick, or too thin, or my "vortex was too violent", but I had to "ok, try again" time after time until the end of my shift.
At any rate, apparently I've mastered 2% and skim microfoam on my first day, whoopdido. All I was able/allowed to turn out were one chai latte ("that last one was much too thick... oh look, there's an order for a chai latte; that needs to be thicker, so try to remember what you did last time and do it again") and some skim microfoam for a latte (which someone else poured). And brought on the second half of the migraine. The right side doesn't make me quite so nauseous, but it does make everything between my eyebrow and chin go numb.
So why was I thrown into barista traineeship in the first place? It's rather comical. The owner has been hinting for a few weeks that I should have a meeting with him to decide where my future with the Awfully Waffley should lie. Today he kind of tricked me into suggesting an answer (I said something to the effect that I'd much rather be a barista than build saucy cold potatoes all day) and proclaimed that I would henceforth train to be the weekend head barista manager person. Well, I don't want to work weekends, blast it all. Plus, the girl who started with me has been training to be weekend barista for over a week now. I said, well she really wants to be barista, I know, so why don't I try something else? That's not on weekends? He said, well, I think it would be good to have a little competition, to see who will become weekend barista fastest, plus she's a student and won't always be available on weekends. I said, oh ok, but I'd like to sit down and talk with you sometime anyway, about my future here. He said, no, we'll try you as barista, it's a good skill to have anyway, and if you decide it's not for you you can try something else after.
I'll give it a week, or maybe a little more, then break the news to him that I shall also soon be a student who is required not to take full-time employment. And that I will definitely not be working weekends while I'm a student. And might not even be here anymore by then anyway. And that I wasn't bored, I was just having a bad day. And if my weeriness is well-founded, medical concerns will force me to not be a barista. The steaming makes my eye pound and temple throb; I also can't handle the caffeine involved in the job. A barista has to keep tasting the shots every day to make the necessary adjustments. "You're not a coffee drinker, are you? You'll have to start tasting the espresso." It all tastes the same to me anyway (bad; like alcohol which tastes bad no matter what the drink is but you just have to pour it down your throat so as to avoid the tastebuds, that's why people always laugh at me for guzzling drinks so quickly). How should I know if it's sour, or if the shot was 4 seconds too long, or whatever?
The only good part of the day was when my nemesis trainee came in and asked me if I would take her Sunday shift. I have never been so firm or unhesitating as when I replied "NO." And my muffin at Starbucks was pretty awesome.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
More Wednesday Medley-ing
I don't know what's worse: the consistency of cold potatoes; cold potatoes that are coated in sauce; being obliged to forgo one's daily Starbucks ritual in order to stay and "try" a heaping helping of cold potatoes coated in sauce, or; being obliged to praise said cold potatoes coated in sauce. I guess it would be good if one liked potato salad. I couldn't quite bring myself to finish them. Don't you just hate chewing and chewing on something you really don't want to swallow? But the Atlantic salmon grilled in lime juice and coated in basil, crab, and shrimp was delicious. The owner had concocted a variety of new lunch items, and insisted that I stay and try them all for lunch. Woot for free lunch!
He also insisted that I crack down on lousy newbies. If I weren't weery of being hated (even more) by all the new people, I'd have a lot of tongue-lashing to do. I have an unfortunate habit of smiling excessively when I tell people to do some blasted work for a change (or that they're doing things wrong), usually just to make it seem like I'm cool with their negligence. I'm pretty certain that I could get away with being harsh if English wasn't my first language, because then I could at least pretend that I don't know how to word criticisms in any nicer a way. I wish I had adopted a German accent from the very start. "Vaht you are doing? You may not stop for a beeah! You must vork at all times." Everybody likes to stand around chatting and laughing all the time, while I clench my teeth and place silent hexes on them as I clean up the mess they leave even though there's a sign that clearly says "Clean yer slab or yer scrubbin' the grill." Right by the "Thar be pitchers that need a-washin', yo ho." Yep, it's almost universally pirate-themed, except for the coffee maker instructions which are Star Wars-themed. But about the accent: I could be harsh with a German accent. Nobody expects smiles and niceties from a Goerman.
Tangentially-Related Sidenote:
Doesn't matter if you sing out of tune,
So long as you're German;
Doesn't matter if you can hardly croon,
So long as you're German;
So if you haven't got a note in your head,
Put on a silly accent instead,
And people will stop wishing you were dead—So long as you're German.
Doesn't matter if the notes are all wrong
And people are squirmin',
Just make the tune up as you go along;
Pretend you're German;
And if your voice sounds like it's coming through a strainer,
Sing it out of synch, like Marlene;
And soon you'll be compared to Lotte Lenya
Who was German.
Nich hin auf slene sprech gesang Zauberflöte wunderbar Johnny!
Viener Schnitzel Bundesbank Helmut Kohl Eurostar Johnny!
So, if you ever wonder what you have to do
To sound like a Hun;
Just chain-smoke from the tender age of two;
That's how it's done;
And if the audience is all walking out,
Just make believe that you're a Kraut,
And open you're mouth and shout
In German.
In German.
In German.
Auf Deutsche.
Jawohl.
I saw that song performed at a musical theatre class in the Regina Festival once; it was so freaking awesome.
Back to DV: I'm so highly esteemed in the management, it's awesome. The old store wants me back quite badly, and it would sure mean less work for me if I did go back there. I think I'm also currently winning some sort of competition with the manager. That's just my (well-founded) opinion. I'll reserve details of the competition for new drawings, of which I have some great new ideas but am still lacking unlined paper.
I'm going to start saying "Welcome to the Vaguely Bagelly."
I can't believe how rude people can be. So very, very rude. Personal attacks, too. Gosh, it's just coffee; you wouldn't catch me drinking the stuff. Though I do drink entirely too much hot chocolate. It's probably time to do up some dieting :S
Analysis lessons have resumed. I'm almost ready to ace the exam, provided I can complete it in the necessary time.
He also insisted that I crack down on lousy newbies. If I weren't weery of being hated (even more) by all the new people, I'd have a lot of tongue-lashing to do. I have an unfortunate habit of smiling excessively when I tell people to do some blasted work for a change (or that they're doing things wrong), usually just to make it seem like I'm cool with their negligence. I'm pretty certain that I could get away with being harsh if English wasn't my first language, because then I could at least pretend that I don't know how to word criticisms in any nicer a way. I wish I had adopted a German accent from the very start. "Vaht you are doing? You may not stop for a beeah! You must vork at all times." Everybody likes to stand around chatting and laughing all the time, while I clench my teeth and place silent hexes on them as I clean up the mess they leave even though there's a sign that clearly says "Clean yer slab or yer scrubbin' the grill." Right by the "Thar be pitchers that need a-washin', yo ho." Yep, it's almost universally pirate-themed, except for the coffee maker instructions which are Star Wars-themed. But about the accent: I could be harsh with a German accent. Nobody expects smiles and niceties from a Goerman.
Tangentially-Related Sidenote:
Doesn't matter if you sing out of tune,
So long as you're German;
Doesn't matter if you can hardly croon,
So long as you're German;
So if you haven't got a note in your head,
Put on a silly accent instead,
And people will stop wishing you were dead—So long as you're German.
Doesn't matter if the notes are all wrong
And people are squirmin',
Just make the tune up as you go along;
Pretend you're German;
And if your voice sounds like it's coming through a strainer,
Sing it out of synch, like Marlene;
And soon you'll be compared to Lotte Lenya
Who was German.
Nich hin auf slene sprech gesang Zauberflöte wunderbar Johnny!
Viener Schnitzel Bundesbank Helmut Kohl Eurostar Johnny!
So, if you ever wonder what you have to do
To sound like a Hun;
Just chain-smoke from the tender age of two;
That's how it's done;
And if the audience is all walking out,
Just make believe that you're a Kraut,
And open you're mouth and shout
In German.
In German.
In German.
Auf Deutsche.
Jawohl.
I saw that song performed at a musical theatre class in the Regina Festival once; it was so freaking awesome.
Back to DV: I'm so highly esteemed in the management, it's awesome. The old store wants me back quite badly, and it would sure mean less work for me if I did go back there. I think I'm also currently winning some sort of competition with the manager. That's just my (well-founded) opinion. I'll reserve details of the competition for new drawings, of which I have some great new ideas but am still lacking unlined paper.
I'm going to start saying "Welcome to the Vaguely Bagelly."
I can't believe how rude people can be. So very, very rude. Personal attacks, too. Gosh, it's just coffee; you wouldn't catch me drinking the stuff. Though I do drink entirely too much hot chocolate. It's probably time to do up some dieting :S
Analysis lessons have resumed. I'm almost ready to ace the exam, provided I can complete it in the necessary time.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
I jumped in the river and what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the figures I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and future
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
I jumped into the river
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
And all the figures I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and future
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
—Radiohead Pyramid Song
aka my new favourite song. It's one of ~10 songs on a perpetual loop on the ipod at work. In my sleep-deprived state, I tear up a little (a lot actually) every time [see Wednesday Thoughts on Facebook]. Now that I know the words I love it even more. I've been informed that my future at work is wide open: I can be a cook, barista, weekend manager. The reason: because I'm "so awesome," in the owner's words. I'm tempted to go into management just so that I can control the ipod. That would be the awesomest perk imaginable. Details on Facebook.
I wish there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt. Life seems to be headed toward infinite fear and doubt. The final path must soon be forged, and I'm afraid I'll fail (as usual) to make my dreams happen.
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the figures I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and future
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
I jumped into the river
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
And all the figures I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and future
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
—Radiohead Pyramid Song
aka my new favourite song. It's one of ~10 songs on a perpetual loop on the ipod at work. In my sleep-deprived state, I tear up a little (a lot actually) every time [see Wednesday Thoughts on Facebook]. Now that I know the words I love it even more. I've been informed that my future at work is wide open: I can be a cook, barista, weekend manager. The reason: because I'm "so awesome," in the owner's words. I'm tempted to go into management just so that I can control the ipod. That would be the awesomest perk imaginable. Details on Facebook.
I wish there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt. Life seems to be headed toward infinite fear and doubt. The final path must soon be forged, and I'm afraid I'll fail (as usual) to make my dreams happen.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Where have all the weekends gone?
Today was the Pacific Festival of the Book. I was supposed to be volunteering from 8:30—6:00, but I managed to duck out a little after 3:00. I need to stop being so flexible. "Sure, I can start volunteering any time that day, and I can stay as long as you need me!"
There were a few very interesting things at the festival. My favourite part was when Herman Melville (a.k.a. Roderick) was roving around the Lobby and came and entertained us at the Registration Table for a while. He also told us about I Spy Craigdarroch Castle, March 17—April 1. That's where you get to go sneak around Craigdarroch pretending you're a spy, possibly accompanied by a chimney sweep (though the webpage would indicate that there is in fact only one chimney sweep). I'm not too sure how that differs from what you regularly do at Craigdarroch (excepting the chimney sweep, of course, but I doubt it will be an authentic one anyway; probably won't be a speck of coal dust in sight).
I didn't get a chance to go to any of the workshops, which is too bad because there were some self-publishing workshops that I would have found highly interesting and potentially useful. I caught the end of a book-making demo, though, so now I'll be able to make some awesome chapbooks. Not like those crappy chapbooks that I can't even get rid of for free. I'm thinking that all my new chapbooks will be originals (like, each book is different in both architecture and content). Details at eleven. Wolves are making a comeback.
The most hilarious part of the festival was when some crazy lady took the open stage (she was one of the roving performers, I think) and yelled vowels into the microphone. Many of the exhibitors chose to take cigarette breaks at that time, and one lady came out of the room exaggeratedly plugging her ears. An Irish-accented guy kept having to come back to check if the vowel lady was gone before he returned to his exhibit ("She's not married, that's for sure. Otherwise she'd be dead.") That was during my 2-hour vigil in the empty hallway, guarding the door. I should have just gone to the festival as a civilian.
I hate closing shifts; they're a whole hour of manual labour, plus it seems to take me five times longer than everyone else to sweep or mop the place. I know why, too: I sweep it as though it's a granary. Far too meticulous. It's just a cafe, it's not like we're storing grain on the floor or anything. (I haven't taken that mandatory food safety course yet, by the way. It's probably an optional mandatory course.) I've discovered that pretty much nobody at the new store has a work ethic on par with me, which makes me secretly seethe a little whenever I see something that obviously needs to be done and the newbies just say "ho hum, I think I'll have a cup of coffee." (Back in my trainee days, we didn't dream of helping ourselves to free coffee.) There's really only one trainee who would last more than five minutes at the old store. As it is, the guy who trained with me almost got fired from the old store (he now has a raise ):< ). I think everybody should be trained there, because that's where weeding out and pruning seems to get done, if you know what I mean. I have one untrainable trainee right now, and I don't quite know what to do about it. She's untrainable in the sense that she ignores what I tell her, and even decided that she could grill a panino (fun fact: panini is a plural; panino is the singular) well enough on her second day on the job to train someone how to do it. I ended up getting to tell her, "Oh, by the way, whenever you ruin food like that, you need to put it in the kitchen with a note saying how it happened, with your name and the date." She also butchered the brand new grill that the owner was so adamant that we treat well. And, she touched the new espresso bar, the one that was handmade in Italy, the one that nobody but baristas are allowed near. The barista had to come stop the burst of steam that she set going. I have plenty of other complaints, but it's probably bad form to blog about work in the first place. We'll just pretend I've been talking about school, that's perfectly permissible.
Tomorrow I agreed (again, too readily) to pick up a shift someone canceled at the old store, so it's two solid weeks of early mornings and not enough downtime. Plus, I don't have Analysis this week, so not having a weekend today and tomorrow pretty much makes this a 12-day workweek for me.
I've decided that weekends will henceforth be Megan times. No more of this non-weekend, non-sleeping-in nonsense. After all, I'm pretty sure that two of my top three biggest regrets in life will end up being 1) not spending as much time as humanly possible with the people who matter most, and 2) not sleeping in nearly enough.
There were a few very interesting things at the festival. My favourite part was when Herman Melville (a.k.a. Roderick) was roving around the Lobby and came and entertained us at the Registration Table for a while. He also told us about I Spy Craigdarroch Castle, March 17—April 1. That's where you get to go sneak around Craigdarroch pretending you're a spy, possibly accompanied by a chimney sweep (though the webpage would indicate that there is in fact only one chimney sweep). I'm not too sure how that differs from what you regularly do at Craigdarroch (excepting the chimney sweep, of course, but I doubt it will be an authentic one anyway; probably won't be a speck of coal dust in sight).
I didn't get a chance to go to any of the workshops, which is too bad because there were some self-publishing workshops that I would have found highly interesting and potentially useful. I caught the end of a book-making demo, though, so now I'll be able to make some awesome chapbooks. Not like those crappy chapbooks that I can't even get rid of for free. I'm thinking that all my new chapbooks will be originals (like, each book is different in both architecture and content). Details at eleven. Wolves are making a comeback.
The most hilarious part of the festival was when some crazy lady took the open stage (she was one of the roving performers, I think) and yelled vowels into the microphone. Many of the exhibitors chose to take cigarette breaks at that time, and one lady came out of the room exaggeratedly plugging her ears. An Irish-accented guy kept having to come back to check if the vowel lady was gone before he returned to his exhibit ("She's not married, that's for sure. Otherwise she'd be dead.") That was during my 2-hour vigil in the empty hallway, guarding the door. I should have just gone to the festival as a civilian.
I hate closing shifts; they're a whole hour of manual labour, plus it seems to take me five times longer than everyone else to sweep or mop the place. I know why, too: I sweep it as though it's a granary. Far too meticulous. It's just a cafe, it's not like we're storing grain on the floor or anything. (I haven't taken that mandatory food safety course yet, by the way. It's probably an optional mandatory course.) I've discovered that pretty much nobody at the new store has a work ethic on par with me, which makes me secretly seethe a little whenever I see something that obviously needs to be done and the newbies just say "ho hum, I think I'll have a cup of coffee." (Back in my trainee days, we didn't dream of helping ourselves to free coffee.) There's really only one trainee who would last more than five minutes at the old store. As it is, the guy who trained with me almost got fired from the old store (he now has a raise ):< ). I think everybody should be trained there, because that's where weeding out and pruning seems to get done, if you know what I mean. I have one untrainable trainee right now, and I don't quite know what to do about it. She's untrainable in the sense that she ignores what I tell her, and even decided that she could grill a panino (fun fact: panini is a plural; panino is the singular) well enough on her second day on the job to train someone how to do it. I ended up getting to tell her, "Oh, by the way, whenever you ruin food like that, you need to put it in the kitchen with a note saying how it happened, with your name and the date." She also butchered the brand new grill that the owner was so adamant that we treat well. And, she touched the new espresso bar, the one that was handmade in Italy, the one that nobody but baristas are allowed near. The barista had to come stop the burst of steam that she set going. I have plenty of other complaints, but it's probably bad form to blog about work in the first place. We'll just pretend I've been talking about school, that's perfectly permissible.
Tomorrow I agreed (again, too readily) to pick up a shift someone canceled at the old store, so it's two solid weeks of early mornings and not enough downtime. Plus, I don't have Analysis this week, so not having a weekend today and tomorrow pretty much makes this a 12-day workweek for me.
I've decided that weekends will henceforth be Megan times. No more of this non-weekend, non-sleeping-in nonsense. After all, I'm pretty sure that two of my top three biggest regrets in life will end up being 1) not spending as much time as humanly possible with the people who matter most, and 2) not sleeping in nearly enough.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
The purple haze in Hogwarts
Boy, do I ever love Analysis class. The Conservatory looks like Hogwarts, and there's always a medley of music floating down from the windows. Perhaps some day I will teach in just such a conservatory, or at least sit in it and write music. Mr. Brown was playing Purple Haze on the piano to demonstrate chords. But then he said "You don't need me anymore," and that we'd only have a few more lessons :'( How tragic.
The new store opened almost on time yesterday, and the pace picked up some more today. My job is now much more like the ideal coffee-place job I had always envisioned, but training people really sucks. Mostly I tell them how to do something, then I show them how to do it, then I notice that they never do it or even check if it needs doing again, then I ask them to do it while I'm out on break, then I come back and do it myself instead. I had to cover up for so many mistakes and general negligences today that by the time I left I felt like the grumpy snappy lady who occasionally takes my bus. I also hate closing; today was the first time I had ever been there for closing, and did one heck of a lot of mopping. The day also felt 5 hours longer than usual. I much prefer interacting with customers (shockingly!). The new store is extremely beautiful, and I like it a lot, but I acutely miss working with the old-store crew.
The new store opened almost on time yesterday, and the pace picked up some more today. My job is now much more like the ideal coffee-place job I had always envisioned, but training people really sucks. Mostly I tell them how to do something, then I show them how to do it, then I notice that they never do it or even check if it needs doing again, then I ask them to do it while I'm out on break, then I come back and do it myself instead. I had to cover up for so many mistakes and general negligences today that by the time I left I felt like the grumpy snappy lady who occasionally takes my bus. I also hate closing; today was the first time I had ever been there for closing, and did one heck of a lot of mopping. The day also felt 5 hours longer than usual. I much prefer interacting with customers (shockingly!). The new store is extremely beautiful, and I like it a lot, but I acutely miss working with the old-store crew.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
The rural horror brewery
Happy St. Patrick's Day from yesterday! There seem to be so many days to celebrate recently. Yesterday also happened to be my great uncle & aunt's 62nd anniversary, so we had a small gathering for that at my first cousin twice removed's place (I don't know what removed means, but it sounds neat so that's what I call her). Their house is so awesome, it's a heritage home built in 1913-14 and almost everything in it dates from that era, or is at least antique-y. It's like a museum where you're allowed to sit in the furniture, play with the grammophone, and touch things! And dining feels like High Tea at the Gatsby. Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't touch things, but their cats have been known to sharpen their claws on the rugs and vinyl records and spray the bronze statues.
Between Thai food there (food poisoning?), and perhaps a touch too many refreshments for St. Paddy's day in the evening elsewhere (hangover :S), I've been feeling terribly ill all day. The only time I've ever felt worse is when I had a 48-hour stomach flu in university; I foolishly tried to go to class and it ended up taking me 2 hours to get back to Luther from the Ad Hum building, mostly because I had to stop and take a nap in the restrooms to build up strength for the next leg of the journey every so often. But then Jacenta took care of me so it was all good.
I had been waiting for St. Patrick's Day to roll around so that I could debunk it (kind of like my Lest We Forget rant) but I can't remember what that was all about, and the book that does know is back in Saskatchewan. Oh well, I'll just look forward to St. Swithin's Day instead.
Between Thai food there (food poisoning?), and perhaps a touch too many refreshments for St. Paddy's day in the evening elsewhere (hangover :S), I've been feeling terribly ill all day. The only time I've ever felt worse is when I had a 48-hour stomach flu in university; I foolishly tried to go to class and it ended up taking me 2 hours to get back to Luther from the Ad Hum building, mostly because I had to stop and take a nap in the restrooms to build up strength for the next leg of the journey every so often. But then Jacenta took care of me so it was all good.
I had been waiting for St. Patrick's Day to roll around so that I could debunk it (kind of like my Lest We Forget rant) but I can't remember what that was all about, and the book that does know is back in Saskatchewan. Oh well, I'll just look forward to St. Swithin's Day instead.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
The Pides of March
Happy Pi Day and Happy Einstein's Birthday from yesterday, and Happy Ides of March today. Beware. I propose we create a new two-day festival called the Pides.
- Pacific Festival of the Book, March 23-25. I shall be manning the registration table on the 24th.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Call me... "Wrap Factory"
My head is finally purple (not bright purple, unfortunately), but the haircut's not as unusual as I had hoped. In fact... it turned out to be pretty much my usual. Blast. I wish it were sky blue with pink and purple streaks. That would be awesome.
I got to be a wrap factory at work today, and also made soup for the first time. Making food is awesome, because it makes time go by swiftly. I hope I get to make all the food in the new store, and leave serving to my underlings. It seems like everything's breaking at the store, though. Today there was no hot water (except in the coffee machines) and one of the πpods wasn't working so we had to listen to the same 4 Bob Marley songs over and over (shudder). But broken things take people's attention off of me and my mishaps, so that's all good.
The Herr Brown quotation of the week: "Well, I'm not going to look closely at this. It must be right." I love it when he plays the piano for me. So jazzy.
How much you changed....
TEN YEARS AGO
How old were you? 12
Where did you go to school? Sedley High
Where did you work? nowhere/farming?
Where did you live? Francis, Saskatchewan
Where did you hang out? Negative
What was your hair style? either quite long, or really short... probably really short about then, actually
Did you wear glasses? never
Who were your best friends? Angela, Sam, Jennifer, Adam... as always through school
How many tattoos did you have? again, negative
How many piercings did you have?: 2 (ears)
What car did you drive? the good ol' station wagon (but only around the country, I was 12)
What was your worst fear? going to school, every single day. Got over it in about grade 11/12
Had you driven yet? yes, especially swathers
Had you been to a real party yet? no
Had your heart broken? no
Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: single
FIVE YEARS AGO
How old were you? 17
Where did you go to school ? Sedley High
Where did you work? nowhere/camp in the summer I turned 18
Where did you live? Francis, SK
Where did you hang out? umm.... does drama club count as hanging?
How was your hair style? long & layered
Did you wear glasses? never
Who were your best friends? Angela, Sam, Adam
Who was your regular-person crush? A guy in another class
How many tattoos did you have? none
How many piercings did you have?: 6 (ears)
What car did you drive? the Carsicle (a.k.a. LTD)
What was your favorite band/group? Treble Charger, and probably also Marilyn Manson
What was your worst fear? leaving home
Had you been to a real party yet? yes
Had your heart broken? not really
Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: taken, then single
MARCH 2007
How old are you?: 22
Where do you work? Dolce Vita Coffee Art
Where do you live? Victoria
Where do you hang out? possibly Starbucks, if wolfing down scones by myself and leaving quickly counts as hanging
How is your hair style? shortish, layered, and PURPLE
Do you wear glasses? never!
Who are your best friends? Ryan, Kate, Blake, Angela
Do you talk to your old friends? some of them
How many piercings do you have? 6
How many tattoos? 0
What kind of car do you have? a bus (that someone else drives)
What is your favorite band/group? so many, but if I had to pick most grooves per capita it'd be a tie between Nine Inch Nails and Amon Tobin
What is your biggest fear? being left behind, and to a much lesser extent running out of Maxalt
Have you been arrested, if so how many times total? no
Has your heart been broken? somewhat
Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: taken and smitten
I got to be a wrap factory at work today, and also made soup for the first time. Making food is awesome, because it makes time go by swiftly. I hope I get to make all the food in the new store, and leave serving to my underlings. It seems like everything's breaking at the store, though. Today there was no hot water (except in the coffee machines) and one of the πpods wasn't working so we had to listen to the same 4 Bob Marley songs over and over (shudder). But broken things take people's attention off of me and my mishaps, so that's all good.
The Herr Brown quotation of the week: "Well, I'm not going to look closely at this. It must be right." I love it when he plays the piano for me. So jazzy.
How much you changed....
TEN YEARS AGO
How old were you? 12
Where did you go to school? Sedley High
Where did you work? nowhere/farming?
Where did you live? Francis, Saskatchewan
Where did you hang out? Negative
What was your hair style? either quite long, or really short... probably really short about then, actually
Did you wear glasses? never
Who were your best friends? Angela, Sam, Jennifer, Adam... as always through school
How many tattoos did you have? again, negative
How many piercings did you have?: 2 (ears)
What car did you drive? the good ol' station wagon (but only around the country, I was 12)
What was your worst fear? going to school, every single day. Got over it in about grade 11/12
Had you driven yet? yes, especially swathers
Had you been to a real party yet? no
Had your heart broken? no
Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: single
FIVE YEARS AGO
How old were you? 17
Where did you go to school ? Sedley High
Where did you work? nowhere/camp in the summer I turned 18
Where did you live? Francis, SK
Where did you hang out? umm.... does drama club count as hanging?
How was your hair style? long & layered
Did you wear glasses? never
Who were your best friends? Angela, Sam, Adam
Who was your regular-person crush? A guy in another class
How many tattoos did you have? none
How many piercings did you have?: 6 (ears)
What car did you drive? the Carsicle (a.k.a. LTD)
What was your favorite band/group? Treble Charger, and probably also Marilyn Manson
What was your worst fear? leaving home
Had you been to a real party yet? yes
Had your heart broken? not really
Single/Taken/Married/Divor
MARCH 2007
How old are you?: 22
Where do you work? Dolce Vita Coffee Art
Where do you live? Victoria
Where do you hang out? possibly Starbucks, if wolfing down scones by myself and leaving quickly counts as hanging
How is your hair style? shortish, layered, and PURPLE
Do you wear glasses? never!
Who are your best friends? Ryan, Kate, Blake, Angela
Do you talk to your old friends? some of them
How many piercings do you have? 6
How many tattoos? 0
What kind of car do you have? a bus (that someone else drives)
What is your favorite band/group? so many, but if I had to pick most grooves per capita it'd be a tie between Nine Inch Nails and Amon Tobin
What is your biggest fear? being left behind, and to a much lesser extent running out of Maxalt
Have you been arrested, if so how many times total? no
Has your heart been broken? somewhat
Single/Taken/Married/Divor
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Century of Humanity
I dreamed last night that it was 2058, and the world was a strange place. In fact, it was on the road to ethnic cleansing. Actually, the whole world wasn't 2058, just when I climbed a mountain there happened to be a futuristic civilization up there. Must be due to general relativity or something.
I finally finished Shake Hands With The Devil, which every human should read. Here are some quotations from it:
"In the aisles and on the pews were the bodies of hundreds of men, women and children. At least fifteen of them were still alive but in a terrible state. The priests were applying first aid to the survivors. A baby cried as it tried to feed on the breast of its dead mother... The night before, [two Polish MILOBs] said, the RGF had cordoned off the area, and then the Gendarmerie had gone door to door checking identity cards. All Tutsi men, women and children were rounded up and moved to the church. ... the gendarmes collected the adults' identity cards and burned them. Then the gendarmes welcomed in a large number of civilian militiamen with machetes and handed over the victims to their killers. ... By the destruction of their cards, and of their records at the local commune office, these human beings were erased from humanity. They simply never existed. Before the genocide ended, hundreds of thousands of others would be erased." (280-81)
"I had long been arguing with New York that RTLM had to be shut down, as it was a direct instrument in promoting genocide. The UN did not have the means to stop the broadcasts, either through jamming, a direct air strike on the transmitter, or covert operations, but it made a formal request of the United States, which had the means to try all three. The issue was studied by the Pentagon, which in due course recommended against conducting the operation because of the cost—$8,500 an hour for jamming aircraft over the country—and the legal dilemma. Bandwidth within a nation is owned by the nation, and jamming a national radio station would violate international convention on national sovereignty. The Pentagon judged that the lives of the estimated 8,000-10,000 Rwandans being killed each day in the genocide were not worth the cost of fuel or the violation of Rwandan airwaves. The death toll, which was estimated at 200,000 by the end of April, reached 500,000 by the end of May and 800,000 by the last day of June." (375)
"There were remnants of a barrier here, and many people had been killed and thrown in the ditches and on the sides of the road. As I got out to wait, I looked at the bodies, which seemed relatively fresh. Just as I glimpsed the body of a child, it moved. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but I saw the twitching of the child and wanted to help. I leaned down to pick the child up, and suddenly I was holding a little body that was both tingling and mushy in my hands. In a second I realized that the movement was not the child but the action of maggots." (401)
"'The Interahamwe made a habit of killing young Tutsi children, in front of their parents, by first cutting off one arm, then the other. They would then gash the neck with a machete to bleed the child slowly to death but, when they were still alive, they would cut off the private parts and throw them at the faces of the terrified parents, who would then be murdered with slightly greater dispatch.' Khan [Shaharyar M. Khan, appointed SRSG June '94] was wrong when he wrote that the veterans of the genocide had become hardened to such things. We were simply putting off our feelings until later." (462)
"...the U.S. 'has taken a leading role in efforts to protect the Rwandan people and ensure humanitarian assistance. ... [It has] provided $9 million in relief, flown about 100 Defense Department missions... strongly supported an expanded UNAMIR, air-lifting 50 armoured personnel carriers to Kampala ... [and is] equipping the UN's Ghanian peacekeeping battalion.' Clinton's fibbing dumbfounded me. The DPKO was still fighting for the Pentagon for military cargo planes to move materiel. The Pentagon had actually refused to equip the Ghanaians as they felt the bill was too high and that Ghana was trying to gouge them. And who exactly got the $9 million?"
[Many, many times throughout the book, the US blocked all efforts to reinforce UNAMIR (the UN Assistance Mission for Rwanda) and was the constant frustration of UNAMIR. You can't help but feel outraged at the US, who had so much potential to help and not only did nothing, but actually prohibited efforts to help.]
"... during those last weeks, we received a shocking call from an American staffer, whose name I have long forgotten. He was engaged in some sort of planning exercise and wanted to know how many Rwandans had died, how many were refugees, and how many were internally displaced. He told me that his estimates indicated that it would take the deaths of 85,000 Rwandans to justify the risking of the life of one American soldier." (498-99)
"In the last decades of the twentieth century, self-interest, sovereignty and taking care of number one became the primary criteria for any serious provision of support or resources to the globe's trouble spots. If the country in question is of any possible strategic value to the world powers, then it seems that everything from covert operations to the outright use of overwhelming force is fair game. If it is not, indifference is the order of the day." (519-20)
I wish I could find the part about how many tens of thousands of bodies had been pulled out of Lake Victoria.
Many times throughout the book I had to stop and just be incredulous and outraged at what had happened. We always think, "How can such things happen in the world?" Well, because we rarely do anything other than just be outraged. Outrage is not enough. But what the hell, I don't know where to start.
I apologize for only giving these various quotations without my opinion on them. I used to routinely get flack about not having coherent arguments or opinions, but my method of thinking is somewhat Impressionistic: I hold all these disparate images in my mind, and come out with an overall picture that isn't defined in very fine lines, but is there nonetheless. I can't put my thoughts to words like other people can, and I can't explain myself very easily. But I hope you share my feelings about things like Rwanda.
"In the future we must be prepared to move beyond national self-interest to spend our resources and spill our blood for humanity. We have lived through centuries of enlightenment, reason, revolution, industrialization, and globalization. No matter how idealistic the aim sounds, this new century must become the Century of Humanity, when we as human beings rise above race, creed, colour, religion and national self-interest and put the good of humanity above the good of our own tribe." (522)
I finally finished Shake Hands With The Devil, which every human should read. Here are some quotations from it:
"In the aisles and on the pews were the bodies of hundreds of men, women and children. At least fifteen of them were still alive but in a terrible state. The priests were applying first aid to the survivors. A baby cried as it tried to feed on the breast of its dead mother... The night before, [two Polish MILOBs] said, the RGF had cordoned off the area, and then the Gendarmerie had gone door to door checking identity cards. All Tutsi men, women and children were rounded up and moved to the church. ... the gendarmes collected the adults' identity cards and burned them. Then the gendarmes welcomed in a large number of civilian militiamen with machetes and handed over the victims to their killers. ... By the destruction of their cards, and of their records at the local commune office, these human beings were erased from humanity. They simply never existed. Before the genocide ended, hundreds of thousands of others would be erased." (280-81)
"I had long been arguing with New York that RTLM had to be shut down, as it was a direct instrument in promoting genocide. The UN did not have the means to stop the broadcasts, either through jamming, a direct air strike on the transmitter, or covert operations, but it made a formal request of the United States, which had the means to try all three. The issue was studied by the Pentagon, which in due course recommended against conducting the operation because of the cost—$8,500 an hour for jamming aircraft over the country—and the legal dilemma. Bandwidth within a nation is owned by the nation, and jamming a national radio station would violate international convention on national sovereignty. The Pentagon judged that the lives of the estimated 8,000-10,000 Rwandans being killed each day in the genocide were not worth the cost of fuel or the violation of Rwandan airwaves. The death toll, which was estimated at 200,000 by the end of April, reached 500,000 by the end of May and 800,000 by the last day of June." (375)
"There were remnants of a barrier here, and many people had been killed and thrown in the ditches and on the sides of the road. As I got out to wait, I looked at the bodies, which seemed relatively fresh. Just as I glimpsed the body of a child, it moved. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but I saw the twitching of the child and wanted to help. I leaned down to pick the child up, and suddenly I was holding a little body that was both tingling and mushy in my hands. In a second I realized that the movement was not the child but the action of maggots." (401)
"'The Interahamwe made a habit of killing young Tutsi children, in front of their parents, by first cutting off one arm, then the other. They would then gash the neck with a machete to bleed the child slowly to death but, when they were still alive, they would cut off the private parts and throw them at the faces of the terrified parents, who would then be murdered with slightly greater dispatch.' Khan [Shaharyar M. Khan, appointed SRSG June '94] was wrong when he wrote that the veterans of the genocide had become hardened to such things. We were simply putting off our feelings until later." (462)
"...the U.S. 'has taken a leading role in efforts to protect the Rwandan people and ensure humanitarian assistance. ... [It has] provided $9 million in relief, flown about 100 Defense Department missions... strongly supported an expanded UNAMIR, air-lifting 50 armoured personnel carriers to Kampala ... [and is] equipping the UN's Ghanian peacekeeping battalion.' Clinton's fibbing dumbfounded me. The DPKO was still fighting for the Pentagon for military cargo planes to move materiel. The Pentagon had actually refused to equip the Ghanaians as they felt the bill was too high and that Ghana was trying to gouge them. And who exactly got the $9 million?"
[Many, many times throughout the book, the US blocked all efforts to reinforce UNAMIR (the UN Assistance Mission for Rwanda) and was the constant frustration of UNAMIR. You can't help but feel outraged at the US, who had so much potential to help and not only did nothing, but actually prohibited efforts to help.]
"... during those last weeks, we received a shocking call from an American staffer, whose name I have long forgotten. He was engaged in some sort of planning exercise and wanted to know how many Rwandans had died, how many were refugees, and how many were internally displaced. He told me that his estimates indicated that it would take the deaths of 85,000 Rwandans to justify the risking of the life of one American soldier." (498-99)
"In the last decades of the twentieth century, self-interest, sovereignty and taking care of number one became the primary criteria for any serious provision of support or resources to the globe's trouble spots. If the country in question is of any possible strategic value to the world powers, then it seems that everything from covert operations to the outright use of overwhelming force is fair game. If it is not, indifference is the order of the day." (519-20)
I wish I could find the part about how many tens of thousands of bodies had been pulled out of Lake Victoria.
Many times throughout the book I had to stop and just be incredulous and outraged at what had happened. We always think, "How can such things happen in the world?" Well, because we rarely do anything other than just be outraged. Outrage is not enough. But what the hell, I don't know where to start.
I apologize for only giving these various quotations without my opinion on them. I used to routinely get flack about not having coherent arguments or opinions, but my method of thinking is somewhat Impressionistic: I hold all these disparate images in my mind, and come out with an overall picture that isn't defined in very fine lines, but is there nonetheless. I can't put my thoughts to words like other people can, and I can't explain myself very easily. But I hope you share my feelings about things like Rwanda.
"In the future we must be prepared to move beyond national self-interest to spend our resources and spill our blood for humanity. We have lived through centuries of enlightenment, reason, revolution, industrialization, and globalization. No matter how idealistic the aim sounds, this new century must become the Century of Humanity, when we as human beings rise above race, creed, colour, religion and national self-interest and put the good of humanity above the good of our own tribe." (522)
Friday, March 09, 2007
floating on cherry blossoms
Because I always arrive at things way too early, I take a detour while walking from the bus stop to work every morning. Cherry trees seem to be as populous in Victoria as elm trees are in Regina, and right now they're blooming. I love walking on a carpet of pink petals early in the morning. It's like being in a painting.
And because I'm apparently doing awesome at work (who knew?), I will not only get a raise effective when the new store opens on the 20th, but they also want me to be a supervisor there. This is "very exceptional," they tell me. I don't know why I'm the one who was lucky enough to get the first shift, or why I get the most hours of all the new people, but... well lucky me, I guess. I wasn't even going to go to work today because I've been rather ill for a couple days, but then I did because I'm too chicken to call in sick. I'm glad I did go, though, because it happened to be pay day as well as promotion day. Wooo! Except Maxalt + Codeine = me in a cloud. Or in a London Fog, as it were. I'm so glad it's the weekend. Time for theory and tax returns (lest the horde of tax men come after me again).
And because I'm apparently doing awesome at work (who knew?), I will not only get a raise effective when the new store opens on the 20th, but they also want me to be a supervisor there. This is "very exceptional," they tell me. I don't know why I'm the one who was lucky enough to get the first shift, or why I get the most hours of all the new people, but... well lucky me, I guess. I wasn't even going to go to work today because I've been rather ill for a couple days, but then I did because I'm too chicken to call in sick. I'm glad I did go, though, because it happened to be pay day as well as promotion day. Wooo! Except Maxalt + Codeine = me in a cloud. Or in a London Fog, as it were. I'm so glad it's the weekend. Time for theory and tax returns (lest the horde of tax men come after me again).
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Beats Me
I have a strong urge to watch Requiem for a Dream. Or maybe just listen to the soundtrack over and over. That and Amon Tobin (I definitely have to get Amon Tobin hooked up on the ipod at work, I'm absolutely certain it would go over with immense success, at least in the new store. Maybe not so much in the old store where anything heavier than Mozart is forbidden during my shift. OMG I'm listening to it right now and it's almost inconceivable how awesome it is). And Nine Inch Nails. And especially Massive Attack. And all my miscellaneous favourites. Maybe I'll just spend Thursday listening to music. Playing the piano would be even better. I'll have to hook myself up with a practice room if I continue RCM studies in the fall.
The Mr. Brown quote of the week: in answer to an RCM question about what he himself was thinking while writing his own composition (I left the question blank, I had no clue), he thought for a few minutes, offered some token answers that the examiners might accept, then wrote down this. I love this class so much. I almost didn't get the most important part of this week's assignment done—I ask you, why does The Bay not sell dividers, or even paper?? Most inconvenient.
Still no tips... For that matter, no wages either. Pay day had better come soon, or I shall mount a protest. I don't even have a tip jar. Apparently tip dispersal is backed up by a week or so, so that should be remedied someday. How am I supposed to go eat lunch at Starbucks every day if I have no petty cash? Maybe that's the idea, they're trying to discourage that. One of these days I'll have to try our Wicked Soup though, because it smells delicious and makes me increasingly hungry throughout the day. I'm the designated apple strudels and quiche baker, which I've finally perfected. The latest goal is to open the new store on March 22. I hear there are chandeliers in it. It's also much much bigger. I still can't think of any drawings ideas.
The Mr. Brown quote of the week: in answer to an RCM question about what he himself was thinking while writing his own composition (I left the question blank, I had no clue), he thought for a few minutes, offered some token answers that the examiners might accept, then wrote down this. I love this class so much. I almost didn't get the most important part of this week's assignment done—I ask you, why does The Bay not sell dividers, or even paper?? Most inconvenient.
Still no tips... For that matter, no wages either. Pay day had better come soon, or I shall mount a protest. I don't even have a tip jar. Apparently tip dispersal is backed up by a week or so, so that should be remedied someday. How am I supposed to go eat lunch at Starbucks every day if I have no petty cash? Maybe that's the idea, they're trying to discourage that. One of these days I'll have to try our Wicked Soup though, because it smells delicious and makes me increasingly hungry throughout the day. I'm the designated apple strudels and quiche baker, which I've finally perfected. The latest goal is to open the new store on March 22. I hear there are chandeliers in it. It's also much much bigger. I still can't think of any drawings ideas.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Gardens, Gargoyles, and... Clowns.
Some of the writing I did for The Luther Story is now up on the web: I interviewed a handful of alumni who have worked on books, the famous Canadian clown Izzy (Shannan Calcutt). I also wrote one on the High School's Class Marshall program, but it doesn't seem to be attributed to me (or anyone). I'm very glad they want me to continue writing for them.
I feel very creaky, as if my legs from the knees down have been recently carved out of hickory or something. Feels like a cold is impending, but it's been so nice out! I could stroll around the Empress gahdens every day. Capital!
I feel very creaky, as if my legs from the knees down have been recently carved out of hickory or something. Feels like a cold is impending, but it's been so nice out! I could stroll around the Empress gahdens every day. Capital!
I met this gargoyle in Chinatown today.
- I enjoy Angie's map of our Victorian excursion.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Going Purple... Eventually
Angela came for a visit this weekend—guess who we saw busking! Chad Vader in person, I tell you. We also found a fantastic antiqu-in-arian bookstore, and I now have a collection of old moldy books. I mean, most of them just smell like lovely old leather books, but one seriously smells of mold. But it is possibly the best book of the bunch—it's a Latin grammar! From 1859! or thereabouts. I'm also hooked on High Tea. Methinks I'll wander off to the Blethering Place one of these days. Maybe they'd even let me play some piano ditties, though I doubt it.
Work is actually going fairly well. It's not something I'd want to do long-term, by any means. Once I get divvied some tips it will be even better. Then maybe I'll be able to afford that hair-chopping-and-dying I've wanted for the last half year. [Edit: no, I have not been saving up for months with the single goal of getting a haircut. Gosh. I'm just trying to severely cut down my frivolous purchases, and I feel like I really need to not turn my head purple in the same week that I spend a hundred dollars on stupid work shirts.] And boots... god how I want boots. I should probably invest in some better standing-around/walking shoes first, though, since boots are probably impractical for work. I'd much rather work this job only part-time, so I could have more time for studying for music exams and possibly a more "real" job like teaching English, or some other job that involves chairs. I am highly looking forward to doing tutor-mentor/TA-type work when I'm a student. As it is, I'm not doing full-time hours anyways. I have no idea when the new store will open; I heard the other day that they had originally planned on opening up a new store by Christmas... but construction seems to be going, at least. The new sign is up.
It looks like freelancing is definitely in the future once again, which is fantastic provided I don't have to phone US people like last time (I can no longer mooch my parents' bundle). I'm pretty excited to get some copies of the latest issue of the magazine. I'll be a real writer!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Department of Silly Walks
- The Black Music Folder. Definitely the most awesome music folder I've ever had. At Podium 2004 I met The Black Folder Guy. His name tag even said "The Black Folder Guy."
- Make your own Silly Walks!. Here is my first attempt.
I finally completed my first-ever choral composition. I really hope to hear it performed some day. I just started 20th century serialism in Analysis this week... maybe I'll attempt an atonal fugue or something, though I think that's oxymoronic. I just might have irrevocably strayed into the cluster chord camp.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
situation normal
Well.... I guess it's not so bad. In some strange twist of fate, the owners were completely cool with me missing yesterday, and then ten minutes later threatened to fire the barista for playing rock and roll before 10:00. Who knew? No day would be complete without a little of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, after all. So today was a good day, especially when the owner gave me the authority to tell the new "new guy" he's doing things wrong. Not that I'd probably notice anyway, but it's still nice.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
doubleplusblyarg
I do not think this job is for me. I hate being told to come in to work early the next morning. I especially hate being woken up and asked to come in to work in two hours. I hate the short notice. I'm sick of being called "Maygan," despite many corrections. I really hated writing down the days I'm supposed to work this week, exactly as it was told to me over the phone, then being called today and told "you were supposed to work today. It's ok this time, but next time..." Sure, it's ok with him because he's cool, but I bet I'll get thrashed about it tomorrow. I also hate every minute of the job itself. I hate the migraines that I've been getting all week. I hate the $70/hour that I partially forfeited from music lessons (which I absolutely LOVE) just to go to stupid training (which I hated). I hate being on the verge of tears when the owner says "you can use your brain." And a pat on the shoulder doesn't quite make it right either. I hate counting the hours until I have to get up at 5:30 to go somewhere I don't want to be, then counting the hours until I can leave. I will hate life (even more than usual) if this continues. Guess I'm just a hateful person. But seriously, what kind of coffee place doesn't have normal decaf drip coffee??
At least someone likes me. My old freelance employer phoned up my Mom asking if I'd like to be their webmaster starting in the summer. :0 Webmaster! Like... my ideal job. I really hope I get it when summer rolls around. She was also saddened to learn that I had moved, because she thought I was an awesome freelancer.
At one point I had been thinking "hey, I've just got this great new job... well I might as well just skip the grad school and go ahead and just work here forever!" Talk about your addled brains. I must get that SSHRC so I can go to grad school!
Today's Analysis lesson was great as usual. I did my Mozart sonata of the week perfectly (as soon as he had finished marking it, my teacher said "Ok. go sign up for the exam.") The Mr. Brown quote of the week: "This is stupid." He said that while trying to find a minor-7th chord in his own composition. Yess! A composer who obviously doesn't pay much attention to silly chords and progressions rules! I bet it bugs him when RCM asks all those stupid questions about his pieces in their exams.
Heheh... in other news, I am a "diabolical genius." That is causing me endless amusement.
And, if you're in the Victoria area tomorrow (which I doubt):
Bike, Jog or Wheel with David Suzuki to Mile Zero in Victoria!
You're invited to join him as he completes the last kilometre of his journey across Canada.
WHEN: 9:30 a.m., Wednesday, February 28
WHERE: Meet at the Cenotaph under the large Canadian flag at the corner of the grounds of Legislative Building
WHAT TO BRING: Your bike!
COST: Free
The plan is to ride or jog along with Dr. Suzuki for the last kilometre of his tour and arrive at the Terry Fox statue at Mile 0 just after 10 a.m.
I won't be going, because I have to be at work. ):<
At least someone likes me. My old freelance employer phoned up my Mom asking if I'd like to be their webmaster starting in the summer. :0 Webmaster! Like... my ideal job. I really hope I get it when summer rolls around. She was also saddened to learn that I had moved, because she thought I was an awesome freelancer.
At one point I had been thinking "hey, I've just got this great new job... well I might as well just skip the grad school and go ahead and just work here forever!" Talk about your addled brains. I must get that SSHRC so I can go to grad school!
Today's Analysis lesson was great as usual. I did my Mozart sonata of the week perfectly (as soon as he had finished marking it, my teacher said "Ok. go sign up for the exam.") The Mr. Brown quote of the week: "This is stupid." He said that while trying to find a minor-7th chord in his own composition. Yess! A composer who obviously doesn't pay much attention to silly chords and progressions rules! I bet it bugs him when RCM asks all those stupid questions about his pieces in their exams.
Heheh... in other news, I am a "diabolical genius." That is causing me endless amusement.
And, if you're in the Victoria area tomorrow (which I doubt):
Bike, Jog or Wheel with David Suzuki to Mile Zero in Victoria!
You're invited to join him as he completes the last kilometre of his journey across Canada.
WHEN: 9:30 a.m., Wednesday, February 28
WHERE: Meet at the Cenotaph under the large Canadian flag at the corner of the grounds of Legislative Building
WHAT TO BRING: Your bike!
COST: Free
The plan is to ride or jog along with Dr. Suzuki for the last kilometre of his tour and arrive at the Terry Fox statue at Mile 0 just after 10 a.m.
I won't be going, because I have to be at work. ):<
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Is that an active or inactive banana?
Blyarg.... I think I might be starting posts with that a lot. I have to be at work at 7:00 AM tomorrow... Catch the bus at ~6:10... I am so not a morning person. I wish they had told me when I'd be working sooner than this evening, then maybe I wouldn't have slept in until mid-afternoon. Watch, now that I know I need to get up early, I won't be able to get any sleep. Instead I'll be counting hours all night. Do you ever do that? Can't get to sleep and keep thinking, as the night progresses, "ok if I fall asleep now I'll have 5 hours of sleep.... ok now I really need to fall asleep if I want to get 4 hours of sleep... oh jees, is that the sun?"
- Vote on what the worst sound in the world is.
- Is that an active or an inactive banana? I should probably employ some black marker tape on my desk... it's getting out of hand.
- You can get mange too. Right here.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Blyarg, I thought I had a really great thing going with my new drawings site, but apparently I can't upload any more jpgs to it even though I have precisely 1958.5 MB of free space, because they're probably under the impression that I'm just hoarding hosting space. The Internet is out to get me, probably because I impersonate them in order to send menacing emails. From: TheInternet@internet.net and all that. So, today's drawing is brought to you by the letter L:
We were supposed to be training at Dolce Vita from Monday to Sunday of this week, but they decided that tonight would be the last training night, and even then we didn't do training but filled out forms. That is, the other two trainees did that. I got called in to actually work a shift today. First one on the job! I win!
So I kind of got thrown into things today. I also made tons of mistakes and won myself many a reprimand, but I guess that's how you learn (not me, I never learn). My feet are killing me—I don't know how this is going to be, full time. And I think it will be a lot tougher now that my Dolce Vita Sister dropped out of training :'( And, my tie is now made of panini oil.
We were supposed to be training at Dolce Vita from Monday to Sunday of this week, but they decided that tonight would be the last training night, and even then we didn't do training but filled out forms. That is, the other two trainees did that. I got called in to actually work a shift today. First one on the job! I win!
So I kind of got thrown into things today. I also made tons of mistakes and won myself many a reprimand, but I guess that's how you learn (not me, I never learn). My feet are killing me—I don't know how this is going to be, full time. And I think it will be a lot tougher now that my Dolce Vita Sister dropped out of training :'( And, my tie is now made of panini oil.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Sugar neutralizes the poison in coffee. Put more in, more!
I'm two days into training at Dolce Vita now. The practice orders we've been taking have been ridiculously complicated and unrealistic (I hope), but I've been holding up ok. Wish my memory was better. I believe we tentatively (and tentacularly... wait, Firefox says that should be spelled "intermolecularly") open on March 1. I'll have to miss part of both my theory lesson and training tonight. Last night I got a complimentary latte which kept me up until well past 6 this morning :S Note to self: Dolce Vita puts far more espresso in their drinks than any other place. Tradition, and all.
I've resurrected the phototoons. They take much less time to make than drawings. I always forget great new drawings ideas anyways, but my phototoons don't make any pretense at being funny.
I've resurrected the phototoons. They take much less time to make than drawings. I always forget great new drawings ideas anyways, but my phototoons don't make any pretense at being funny.
Monday, February 19, 2007
If only I were the ent
My sister-in-law had her baby last night. This will be the third nephew. I shall call him "Octavian." Unless they name him something else, but that would be a pity (unless it's "Soda," of course, which would be pretty awesome).
Ryan and I went to see Strauss's Daphne the other day. It was the first non-Classical opera I've seen yet, and was pretty Wagnerian in approach (i.e. full of Leitmotifs, through-composed, no arias, etc). My favourite part was when Apollo struck down the shepherd with a light sabre... or a lightning bolt, one of the two. I also liked the ent. Seeing operas always makes me really really wish I was the one on stage. I could have been Daphne. Gosh.
Ryan and I went to see Strauss's Daphne the other day. It was the first non-Classical opera I've seen yet, and was pretty Wagnerian in approach (i.e. full of Leitmotifs, through-composed, no arias, etc). My favourite part was when Apollo struck down the shepherd with a light sabre... or a lightning bolt, one of the two. I also liked the ent. Seeing operas always makes me really really wish I was the one on stage. I could have been Daphne. Gosh.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Music Tests
Tone Deaf Test: I got 94.4% correct (exceptional performance)
Pitch Perception Test: at 500Hz I can differentiate between tones 1.2 Hz apart (59th percentile)
Rhythmic Test: Only 64.0% correct.... :( Still normal though. I protest that many of their "rhythmic phrases" were just filler.
Pitch Perception Test: at 500Hz I can differentiate between tones 1.2 Hz apart (59th percentile)
Rhythmic Test: Only 64.0% correct.... :( Still normal though. I protest that many of their "rhythmic phrases" were just filler.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
As long as I don't have to handle sauce...
I applied to Starbucks the other day. Starbucks. I have a Bachelor's degree (and a President's medal to accompany it) and yet one of my greatest aspirations has long been to work in a coffee shop. But what's a Bachelor's degree anyway? "So, do you have any cafe experience?" asks Starbucks. "Why no! None at all!" I reply. "Aha, well, yes, well... er, we actually just hired someone else."
But thank the Ganges I applied there! As I sat morosely sipping my frappucino (actually, I was enthusiastic about the frappucino, they're so tasty; but generally morose), I happened to notice a huge sign blaring at me from across the street: "HIRING BARISTAS ON SUCH-AND-SUCH DAY AND TIME." What luck! And to think, I was about to apply to Save-On on my way home.
Along came the day, and I boldly boarded the bus and walked right up to the building (and nearly walked right on by to catch a bus straight home... I panicked! Who'd hire me?). I went in for my interview and, since I didn't think I had much of a chance, I had no fear. And towards the end one of the interviewers says... "I can tell you right now that I'm very impressed." Very impressed? With me? Nobody has ever said that to me, at least not an employer-type person.
And that was that; as of today I am hired to my first long-term job.
And now the problem... what about grad studies? Applying to grad school and for the SSHRC was damn stressful and a heck of a lot of work, which means this is my only shot at it. And what about music? Here I was all ready to undertake an intensive 3-year stint of classes and exams to come out with a certificate in composition—what I have truly always wanted. Well, the music is probably doable, though on a much longer time-frame.
Can I do all three? During the past month of idleness, I swore to myself that I would welcome busyness, and that when it came I wouldn't complain even if I only had a few hours' time for sleep each night. At least this job won't be as stressful as the last (I'm guessing... hard to imagine, at any rate) and I might eventually get to be a barista, making unpotable drinks at international competitions and whatnot... no, I've got to keep the music in, somehow.
And the other day marked the 50th Briton call! I actually answered once, but it was just the same old machine message so I ignored it.
But thank the Ganges I applied there! As I sat morosely sipping my frappucino (actually, I was enthusiastic about the frappucino, they're so tasty; but generally morose), I happened to notice a huge sign blaring at me from across the street: "HIRING BARISTAS ON SUCH-AND-SUCH DAY AND TIME." What luck! And to think, I was about to apply to Save-On on my way home.
Along came the day, and I boldly boarded the bus and walked right up to the building (and nearly walked right on by to catch a bus straight home... I panicked! Who'd hire me?). I went in for my interview and, since I didn't think I had much of a chance, I had no fear. And towards the end one of the interviewers says... "I can tell you right now that I'm very impressed." Very impressed? With me? Nobody has ever said that to me, at least not an employer-type person.
And that was that; as of today I am hired to my first long-term job.
And now the problem... what about grad studies? Applying to grad school and for the SSHRC was damn stressful and a heck of a lot of work, which means this is my only shot at it. And what about music? Here I was all ready to undertake an intensive 3-year stint of classes and exams to come out with a certificate in composition—what I have truly always wanted. Well, the music is probably doable, though on a much longer time-frame.
Can I do all three? During the past month of idleness, I swore to myself that I would welcome busyness, and that when it came I wouldn't complain even if I only had a few hours' time for sleep each night. At least this job won't be as stressful as the last (I'm guessing... hard to imagine, at any rate) and I might eventually get to be a barista, making unpotable drinks at international competitions and whatnot... no, I've got to keep the music in, somehow.
And the other day marked the 50th Briton call! I actually answered once, but it was just the same old machine message so I ignored it.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Chad Vader
Chad Vader: I love the first few episodes. Now the waxing on the floor is complete... huh? rmph! Can someone... have this droid repaired?
Barnyard in A Flat Major
Reason has pretty good sound banks (they're reasonable, at any rate, within reason), but in my 2nd variation the cello sounds like a cow and the viola sounds like a duck. I call it "Barnyard in A Flat Major." I've only got two variations so far, but you can check them out on my music page. Quartets are manageable for me, what with only having one problematic C clef, but I like massive blocks of sound that require rather more than four instruments.
I've been trying to work on a choral piece for a competition, but I've got my heart set on a particular text and unfortunately it always goes to a certain tune in my head... but I'm not liking how the tune turns out, it's too melismatic. You know, not mellifluous enough. It ought to be more behonied.
I've been trying to work on a choral piece for a competition, but I've got my heart set on a particular text and unfortunately it always goes to a certain tune in my head... but I'm not liking how the tune turns out, it's too melismatic. You know, not mellifluous enough. It ought to be more behonied.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Water Rose: masterpiece!
If you're into music notation software, I highly recommend LilyPond. It's really only good for final copies, but it's darn awesome for that. It's just like programming! And there's soooo many things you can do. You can do clusters! Like this. Not that I'm into clusters, it sounds like yowling to me. And you can write in various ancient music styles. And the clincher: it even has banjo notation! Banjo notation.
I've been starting some variation sets on on a series of Jean Berger songs. So I've been listening to When I Admire the Rose over and over trying to transcribe the voice lines, and I've come to the conclusion that a perfectly balanced choir of excellent singers is The Best Instrument. Most choirs aren't like this, but NYC sure was. I actually used to hate the sound of male singers, but the NYC guys were fantastic and the mens' parts in The Rose and Water Night are the ones that make my heart skip a little every time. Ah yes, my favourite choral piece of all time (and I think everyone would have to objectively agree that it is the finest choral piece ever written) is Eric Whitacre's Water Night. Hmm... two awesome songs... should be combined! Like this. Actually, they go together fantastically, especially at the end.
Anyway, while I was transcribing I noticed that songs don't sound as good performed with instruments other than voice. The notes are correct, but it doesn't sound quite as spectacular. Researching for my music encyclopedia has uncovered the reason: most instruments are tuned so as to be slightly out of tune... for good reason, and only barely, but still slightly. Whereas in a choir you don't sing a note, you sing your harmonic function in relation to the other voices, and if it's a good choir it will be perfectly in tune. Just intonation, or something. Whatever, the name isn't important. Not like augmented sixth chords built on the second scale degree, for example. Speaking of which... I should go do some homework.
Good news! Mini Goggles has been rescued!
I've been starting some variation sets on on a series of Jean Berger songs. So I've been listening to When I Admire the Rose over and over trying to transcribe the voice lines, and I've come to the conclusion that a perfectly balanced choir of excellent singers is The Best Instrument. Most choirs aren't like this, but NYC sure was. I actually used to hate the sound of male singers, but the NYC guys were fantastic and the mens' parts in The Rose and Water Night are the ones that make my heart skip a little every time. Ah yes, my favourite choral piece of all time (and I think everyone would have to objectively agree that it is the finest choral piece ever written) is Eric Whitacre's Water Night. Hmm... two awesome songs... should be combined! Like this. Actually, they go together fantastically, especially at the end.
Anyway, while I was transcribing I noticed that songs don't sound as good performed with instruments other than voice. The notes are correct, but it doesn't sound quite as spectacular. Researching for my music encyclopedia has uncovered the reason: most instruments are tuned so as to be slightly out of tune... for good reason, and only barely, but still slightly. Whereas in a choir you don't sing a note, you sing your harmonic function in relation to the other voices, and if it's a good choir it will be perfectly in tune. Just intonation, or something. Whatever, the name isn't important. Not like augmented sixth chords built on the second scale degree, for example. Speaking of which... I should go do some homework.
Good news! Mini Goggles has been rescued!
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Neapolitan sixth, German sixth, Italian sixth, French sixth... fucking dogs.
If I were in Saskatchewan right now, and if I had a baseball bat, I know of two fucking stupid dogs that would no longer have intact skulls. I hate fucking stupid dogs. They came at least four times, chased my llamas into a frenzy and somehow all the fence panels got knocked down (llamas have skeletons like birds—I can't imagine how they could knock down huge, heavy, iron fence panels without snapping like twigs). They bit at least one of my llamas, quite badly, and probably because she was defending her baby. And the baby? Ah, my beautiful little 4-month-old cria (the only one anyone wanted to buy, but we didn't sell her because she and her mother [both gorgeous] are the ones we were going to keep forever), that baby is now missing. Tonight will be -30 degrees... which means she will die. Who knows what other llamas are injured. My llamas have charged dogs before, and they kill coyotes, and I am truly, deeply, terribly, profoundly disappointed they did not kick those dogs to a pulp. My brother spent all afternoon running all over the fields, farm, and creek looking for llamas, rounding up runaway llamas, chasing dogs away, bringing llamas back to the yard, and setting up all those panels. He is some sort of superhero.
Aside from the fact that he never asks for help for anything, he is alone because my parents have come to visit me for a few days, which is most excellent. I've been getting pretty darn lonely. We've done a bit of touring, and an inordinate amount of visiting relatives and friends (inordinate is good... I've never actually visited all these people in one trip before, and never all here on the island, and certainly never all in the city. We've even managed to visit some of the Alberta relatives, right here in the city! There is no up-island trek whatsoever, for the first time in history!). And, I've also, you know, picked up a few rocks here and there. I've really got to stop doing that.
Today I had my first Analysis lesson. It shall be a lot of work, because although I was never bad at harmony, I never bothered to learn it in any permanent manner, just stuffed it into the short-term bin and promptly forgot it after each exam. Now I want to learn it for keeps, so I want to really apply myself to this course. I'll be doing a lot of reviewing all my old harmony textbooks that my parents brought me. My teacher asked me "what enlightened university" I had gone to, since I mentioned I had a particular textbook from my university days. And drat it all, he asked me if I had my Bachelor's and of course I said "yes," and I think he's given me homework somewhat more advanced than I'd like because he's under the impression my Bachelor's was in music. I also can't read the instructions he wrote out for me. But he is such a freaking awesome comp/theory guy.
Aside from the fact that he never asks for help for anything, he is alone because my parents have come to visit me for a few days, which is most excellent. I've been getting pretty darn lonely. We've done a bit of touring, and an inordinate amount of visiting relatives and friends (inordinate is good... I've never actually visited all these people in one trip before, and never all here on the island, and certainly never all in the city. We've even managed to visit some of the Alberta relatives, right here in the city! There is no up-island trek whatsoever, for the first time in history!). And, I've also, you know, picked up a few rocks here and there. I've really got to stop doing that.
Today I had my first Analysis lesson. It shall be a lot of work, because although I was never bad at harmony, I never bothered to learn it in any permanent manner, just stuffed it into the short-term bin and promptly forgot it after each exam. Now I want to learn it for keeps, so I want to really apply myself to this course. I'll be doing a lot of reviewing all my old harmony textbooks that my parents brought me. My teacher asked me "what enlightened university" I had gone to, since I mentioned I had a particular textbook from my university days. And drat it all, he asked me if I had my Bachelor's and of course I said "yes," and I think he's given me homework somewhat more advanced than I'd like because he's under the impression my Bachelor's was in music. I also can't read the instructions he wrote out for me. But he is such a freaking awesome comp/theory guy.
- Bah, I won three of those. Three! Beat that!
Thursday, February 01, 2007
The Deathly Hallows!!
woot woot woot WOOT!! The gaping hole in our collective souls will finally be complete. And if you don't have this particular gaping hole, you're seriously missing out!
So, 2 characters apparently die in the final book. I'm betting it's Voldemort and Harry. Here's my daring hypothesis: remember the horcrux? Unveiled in The Half-Blood Prince? Well, I think that Harry is a horcrux, which means, he must die in order for Voldemort to die! I'm so clever, aren't I? I hope there's a prize if I'm right.
So, 2 characters apparently die in the final book. I'm betting it's Voldemort and Harry. Here's my daring hypothesis: remember the horcrux? Unveiled in The Half-Blood Prince? Well, I think that Harry is a horcrux, which means, he must die in order for Voldemort to die! I'm so clever, aren't I? I hope there's a prize if I'm right.
- I hope I don't forget to do this, so that we can have some more of this.
- "Scientists offered cash to dispute climate study"
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
And shall they pay me? (may for shall... what, you don't know obscure Lewis Carroll references?)
So I'm now enrolled in the Conservatory here. I only registered for one class, though. I was considering taking up a new instrument, but then I discovered how much I just paid for that one class. Bloody Hell. Probably because I picked the theory/comp department head as my tutor. If I can do amazing enough in this class (highly doubtful), maybe I'll try to tackle some of the next classes on my own.
I also expect to be accepted into grad studies pretty soon, as in, it's inconceivable that I wouldn't be, now that they have all my documents. I dimly recall saying that I would definitely go if I was accepted. Further qualification: if it's financially feasible. Meaning, they'd better darn well pay me to go. A Master's degree of any kind is, in my opinion, useless in and of itself. I'm not going to pay to listen to profs Crakespasming for two years, and then be right back where I am today. If I don't get to do research (assistant style) or TAing or tutor-mentoring or heck even marking, there's no point in going.
I also expect to be accepted into grad studies pretty soon, as in, it's inconceivable that I wouldn't be, now that they have all my documents. I dimly recall saying that I would definitely go if I was accepted. Further qualification: if it's financially feasible. Meaning, they'd better darn well pay me to go. A Master's degree of any kind is, in my opinion, useless in and of itself. I'm not going to pay to listen to profs Crakespasming for two years, and then be right back where I am today. If I don't get to do research (assistant style) or TAing or tutor-mentoring or heck even marking, there's no point in going.
- Lovely, I received a job offer from my favourite type of workplace: a call center! Enjoy a career with our company and enjoy many... "Benefits & Perks!" Maybe they'd consider hiring me to improve that slogan.
Monday, January 29, 2007
La la la la LINOLEUM!!
- The Peabody Institute has many excellent recordings of complete works, with all movements. But not enough :( Also, Bartok is one of my new heroes, but nobody can ever supplant Liszt.
- That's fake Latin anyway. We should all encourage its death. And then bring back Classical Latin! I do like this quotation, though: "St Augustine thought in Latin, you can't read his text in English, it's like listening to Mozart through a jukebox." Just replace "St Augustine" with "Horace" or "Octavian," and yes, my thoughts exactly!
- Return of the drawings. That is to say, I've rebuilt the drawings site. Still no new ones, so I guess they haven't quite returned.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
You must see this
- Everyone should be required to watch this video on Global Dimming. Please. I'll bet you've never even heard of Global Dimming before.
- Well glory be, I'm on page 3!
- MySpace! Xanga! Umm... let's see what else can I add... I really just wanted to find somewhere to upload the Numa Numa dance and possibly the Screech Fire. Will maybe get around to that. The Xanga site is theoretically going to be my writing page. For whenever I want to pretend I'm a writer.
- Banjo Cuttlebort, ____ is the new manager of the Antonio Sporting Centre, arrived in Quebec City last week.
- (A) he
- (B) who
- (C) which
- (C) that
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Invisible Man (And His Talking Cat)
It's reversible... should it be reversed? Is it satisfactory? The menus shouldn't pose too much of a problem, I hope.
- I am worth exactly $2,413,058. I am also a centrist. Or, perhaps more accurately, an anarchist with collectivist leanings (approximately an anti-George-Bush).
- Check out my new movie trailer
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Of pens and words
My temporary homepage is back here again. Yes, yes, yet another new style. I think this will be the final one. A lot is missing (especially the awesome version of the lapsionary, but especially all my drawings).
Monday, January 22, 2007
My hypothetical ARCT schedule
I could do the examination papers in any order, but here's what I have in mind:
Table 1. Double ARCT in Composition and Theory, with English Graduate Studies
| Year | Fall | Spring |
| 1 |
|
|
| 2 |
|
|
| 3 |
|
|
| 4 |
| |
| 5 | Oral Defense |
Table 2. Double ARCT without English Graduate Studies
| Year | Fall | Spring | Summer |
| 1 |
|
|
|
| 2 |
|
| Ear Test |
| 3 |
| Oral Defense |
I am (for possibly the first time ever) positive about what I want to do with the rest of my life. It would go faster without the Master's degree, but if I get accepted to grad school I will do it for sure because I also want to delve into some Anglo Saxon critical theory. I'm being optimistic in being able to learn orchestration quickly, what with having no background in any instrument other than the piano (man, there'll be different clefs to learn, not to mention silly things like trombone positions, harp pedalling, fingering, bowing... all these things I know nothing about. And do you think there's even one exam on choral composing? Of course not, because everybody looks down on singers and singers have to shell out for friggin' accompanists and nobody pays choristers and every instrumentalist gets to be in several ensembles/orchestras but singers have to mostly be alone and you always have to miss out on pit parties because you might catch a cold for your jury tomorrow... It is an instrument, and it's damn hard work to excel at... but this ARCT isn't about singing anyway so whatever, I'll just learn the bloody orchestration). So yes, optimistic. I learn easily when I'm interested. Also, the miracle of RCM is you can take the exams anywhere in Canada. I'm not sure about taking classes... as it is, I'll have to take Gr. 5 Analysis by correspondence. Gr. 5. My gosh, there are so many ARCT classes.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Damn this internet
January 29-February 2 is Week of Climate Action! (ohhhh... I missed the Royal Roads viewing of An Inconvenient Truth by thiiis much... no wait, more like thiiiis much. Aha, I can still make two more Global Warming lectures. Show those Facebookers what for.)
My gosh, I could do without any sense (especially ESP) as long as I had my hearing. Damn I love that ocean of sound. You know, the one that washes over you when you're in rehearsal and you stop singing for just a second and you're pretty sure you'd be buoyant if you just let yourself fall forwards... yeah I still remember that. Oh my word.
Haha, my webhost has now completely disappeared, there is no longer even a logon page. Haha, I forgot to make a backup after I converted everything to php. Haha, haha, I'm hysterical with all this banging my head against the wall.
Facebook is addicting, but my groups are infested with complete assholes, rabid ignoramuses, and general jerks (excluding Herpelhode, of course, which you should join because it's starting to be a repeat of every group I've ever created...p.s. join my groups, dammit). Rage approaching upper limit. More head banging. I'd better stay away from that Government + Religion = Disaster group. I don't have the energy to suppress the urge to kick baptists in the shins.
My gosh, I could do without any sense (especially ESP) as long as I had my hearing. Damn I love that ocean of sound. You know, the one that washes over you when you're in rehearsal and you stop singing for just a second and you're pretty sure you'd be buoyant if you just let yourself fall forwards... yeah I still remember that. Oh my word.
Haha, my webhost has now completely disappeared, there is no longer even a logon page. Haha, I forgot to make a backup after I converted everything to php. Haha, haha, I'm hysterical with all this banging my head against the wall.
Facebook is addicting, but my groups are infested with complete assholes, rabid ignoramuses, and general jerks (excluding Herpelhode, of course, which you should join because it's starting to be a repeat of every group I've ever created...p.s. join my groups, dammit). Rage approaching upper limit. More head banging. I'd better stay away from that Government + Religion = Disaster group. I don't have the energy to suppress the urge to kick baptists in the shins.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
And the SMEF returns for good
Arrrrg, I hate my stupid unreliable server that occasionally (like all this week so far) disappears. I can't wait until it expires. I want my domain back! I have several music scores that need posting.
I'm so craving a sandwich right now, but the last thing I ate felt like I was swallowing saw blades—no exaggeration. Mmmmm, toothy.
I'm so craving a sandwich right now, but the last thing I ate felt like I was swallowing saw blades—no exaggeration. Mmmmm, toothy.
- Oh my... volunteering to be tazered, are we? He looks slightly pained.
- Whoa there, Iran? Why am I always behind the times? Back in the 9/11 days when I had no TV, I was all "what, Iraq? You mean Afghanistan, right?" There is no logic. Once again, I maintain this. Damn hypocrisy.
- "We both know there are no guaranteed cures, whether in medicine, nutrition, herbs or anything else. Complete healing...including mind, body and spirit...is possible, from God. If you want God's help with your health problem, go to Help From God." ?! You call this medical advice?? So does God have a blog or something where I could maybe add my name to some waiting list? So much crap on the internet. I guess I'm adding a lot to it though, so I shouldn't complain.
- A BC Ferries sign
Sunday, January 14, 2007
National De-lurking Week
So if you are a:
- lurker
- loiterer
- layabout
- passerby
- peripatetic
- skulker
- just curious
- otherwise furtive
- all of the above
Friday, January 12, 2007
I am teh smrt
When I was little the only thing I could do on the computer was play Typing Tutor. I tried for probably a day to start up golf (my gosh, you only had to type in one word: "golf") before I finally realized I was spelling it wrong. I was very little.
Other than Typing Tutor and certain other simplistic dos games, I never touched a computer until I was in Gr. 7. I had never heard of Windows until I was in Gr. 8. The next year, or the one after that, I think I learned how to look something up on the internet. When I got my own computer after I graduated, I didn't hook it up to the internet until the spring of 2005.
The point of all of this is that I've always labeled myself as "not a computer person." When I was a tech and people would call in saying "I'm not really a computer person," I would say "me neither." When a prof asked me to help design his website one time I said "I don't know anything about computers." The other day on the bus I was talking with a girl who said she liked programming in html, and I said "I'm not good at that kind of stuff."
Wait, wait, wait... I disagree. I have absolutely no CS-type background. The most formal education in computers I ever got was how to make a sine wave in QBasic in high school (half the time we were doing computers; the other half we had typing practice on typewriters. Typewriters!) But after the bus episode I looked up the girl's site and it looked pretty much like she had entered some text into a pre-existing template. Modesty has its limits, and I hope I'm justified in believing my own site is far more advanced than that. I've certainly put enough work into it, way more work than I devoted to many of my university classes. I've learned a heck of a lot on my own, it's fun, I like it... I wish now that I could design that prof's website because I'll happily spend 6+ hours a day in front of my computer. My own site has been a gigantic evolutionary puzzle. Can you remember how it used to be? I barely can, though I know I started learning more than the basics about programming when I wanted to make my magic appearing links. That was the first puzzle, and I eventually figured it out. And then, how can I make it nicer, better, more impressive, more interactive, bigger, stronger, blonder... that kind of thing. So I learn more, until I work it out. Now I'm liking php. It's never strong enough, or blond enough, and although I say "completed! perfected!" it will never be.
So my latest addition is the thesaurus. In theory, it will offer sesquipedalian synonyms for common words, but I don't have very many words in there right now (you could look up "goatlike," but you probably already know my synonym for that one, at least if you've read the lapsionary).
In the end, I really don't know much about computers, especially programming. But I get an idea of what I want (be it invisible links that appear when the cursor passes over them or whatever) and I keep fiddling until it happens. Fiddle fiddle.
Other than Typing Tutor and certain other simplistic dos games, I never touched a computer until I was in Gr. 7. I had never heard of Windows until I was in Gr. 8. The next year, or the one after that, I think I learned how to look something up on the internet. When I got my own computer after I graduated, I didn't hook it up to the internet until the spring of 2005.
The point of all of this is that I've always labeled myself as "not a computer person." When I was a tech and people would call in saying "I'm not really a computer person," I would say "me neither." When a prof asked me to help design his website one time I said "I don't know anything about computers." The other day on the bus I was talking with a girl who said she liked programming in html, and I said "I'm not good at that kind of stuff."
Wait, wait, wait... I disagree. I have absolutely no CS-type background. The most formal education in computers I ever got was how to make a sine wave in QBasic in high school (half the time we were doing computers; the other half we had typing practice on typewriters. Typewriters!) But after the bus episode I looked up the girl's site and it looked pretty much like she had entered some text into a pre-existing template. Modesty has its limits, and I hope I'm justified in believing my own site is far more advanced than that. I've certainly put enough work into it, way more work than I devoted to many of my university classes. I've learned a heck of a lot on my own, it's fun, I like it... I wish now that I could design that prof's website because I'll happily spend 6+ hours a day in front of my computer. My own site has been a gigantic evolutionary puzzle. Can you remember how it used to be? I barely can, though I know I started learning more than the basics about programming when I wanted to make my magic appearing links. That was the first puzzle, and I eventually figured it out. And then, how can I make it nicer, better, more impressive, more interactive, bigger, stronger, blonder... that kind of thing. So I learn more, until I work it out. Now I'm liking php. It's never strong enough, or blond enough, and although I say "completed! perfected!" it will never be.
So my latest addition is the thesaurus. In theory, it will offer sesquipedalian synonyms for common words, but I don't have very many words in there right now (you could look up "goatlike," but you probably already know my synonym for that one, at least if you've read the lapsionary).
In the end, I really don't know much about computers, especially programming. But I get an idea of what I want (be it invisible links that appear when the cursor passes over them or whatever) and I keep fiddling until it happens. Fiddle fiddle.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
The awesome website that has since disappeared
Complete: this one does have a partial black hole (I never got around to it last time); the Lapsionary is fully searchable, and you can also submit new words; the photo gallery is newish; drawings are no longer blogs. Please let me know if anything is awry.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Weery = wary + leary
Lots and lots of time spent on the computer lately has apparently increased my nerd score:
Before I went to Paris, my Mom convinced me that most people are pickpockets. Then in Paris, I steered well clear of anyone loitering around on sidewalks, which is why I didn't have the fun adventures with bracelet-sellers and such that certain other people had. Since then I've always been paranoid that people I pass on the sidewalk will try to mug me, but I'm pretty sure now that that's not true. Everybody I pass these days just smiles, or sometimes strikes up a conversation. Life is easier when you're not weery of people. (I'm fond of that word—weery—try to guess what I mean by it.)
Before I went to Paris, my Mom convinced me that most people are pickpockets. Then in Paris, I steered well clear of anyone loitering around on sidewalks, which is why I didn't have the fun adventures with bracelet-sellers and such that certain other people had. Since then I've always been paranoid that people I pass on the sidewalk will try to mug me, but I'm pretty sure now that that's not true. Everybody I pass these days just smiles, or sometimes strikes up a conversation. Life is easier when you're not weery of people. (I'm fond of that word—weery—try to guess what I mean by it.)
Friday, January 05, 2007
In Victoria!
Live from Victoria! On The Super Bort! I've missed this computer + high speed internet. Now I can play on Facebook all the time. Except Facebook's not so much fun anymore; my only friends seem to be Banjo Cuttlebort and The Dickens. Yep, I'm accumulating fictional friends.
On the way here I concluded that I must be crazy. What the ✗ am I doing on this plane? Things are so very very uncertain. I like having things all planned out, but I have nothing I'm "supposed" to do before next fall (assuming I get accepted, which I sure won't if good ol' Engl Dept Head keeps withholding his reference letter).
Damn you, beef jerky.
On the way here I concluded that I must be crazy. What the ✗ am I doing on this plane? Things are so very very uncertain. I like having things all planned out, but I have nothing I'm "supposed" to do before next fall (assuming I get accepted, which I sure won't if good ol' Engl Dept Head keeps withholding his reference letter).
Damn you, beef jerky.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Moving time approacheth
Oh my goodness... I am moving tomorrow morning. I'm so nervous. Very excited, but also scared. Up to now, everything in my life has been laid out before me and it didn't take much to just walk through it. This is the first time I've ever taken any sort of leap. Plus I don't know the first thing about living in a city. I'm also pretty paranoid that something will happen to The Super Bort on the airplane (I'm very protective).
Some things you just can't predict how they'll affect your life. Then there are other things that you know are turning points. NYC was one of those, and as I sat in rehearsal for 9 hours every day I felt it was the most important thing I had ever done. Paris and Berlin topped that, and I knew it was an incredible once-in-a-lifetime experience. But this... well this tops everything. Life will never be the same again. Hopefully the plane won't crash. (Fun fact: when I went to Quebec, I was positive that the plane would crash and I would never return home [this was shortly after 9/11]. My biggest concern at the time was that I would never get to watch The Fellowship of the Ring again. Hoo boy.)
Some things you just can't predict how they'll affect your life. Then there are other things that you know are turning points. NYC was one of those, and as I sat in rehearsal for 9 hours every day I felt it was the most important thing I had ever done. Paris and Berlin topped that, and I knew it was an incredible once-in-a-lifetime experience. But this... well this tops everything. Life will never be the same again. Hopefully the plane won't crash. (Fun fact: when I went to Quebec, I was positive that the plane would crash and I would never return home [this was shortly after 9/11]. My biggest concern at the time was that I would never get to watch The Fellowship of the Ring again. Hoo boy.)
Friday, December 29, 2006
"little man on the traffic light"
I can't wait until my domain expires. The blasted server is always down/hacked/not being awesome. And I can't figure out how to transfer the domain to another host. I just hope it expires when it's supposed to. I guess you get what you pay for.
Innumerable thanks to Ryan for helping get my Rhine score suitable for posting. Friggin enfoiblement.
Innumerable thanks to Ryan for helping get my Rhine score suitable for posting. Friggin enfoiblement.
- Mozart's still cranking out new pieces
- I love the Ampelmännchen. "Little man on the traffic light." I got a great Ampelmännchen shirt from a Berlin store that only sold Ampelmännchen-related items.
- Longest song ever. 639 years, that is. "The actual performance commenced in the St. Burchardi church on September 5, 2001 with a pause lasting until February 5, 2003. The first chord was played from then until July 5, 2005. The latest sound from the organ was a three-note chord, A below middle C, C above middle C (A3-C4-Fis4) and F-sharp, which began on January 5, 2006 and concluded on May 5, 2006. The performance is planned to continue until September 5, 2640." Oh that John Cage.
- I think my drawings may be broken. Can you see Dec. 30th's drawing? Man, I really need to host them elsewhere.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Great Poems
The golden age of poetry is probably over. Here are my favourites. I've always planned to write a Water Night-esque piece for the Horace poem. Moreover...I will. And furthermoreover... I just wanted to say furthermoreover.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Beginnings of a music plot
Christmasfest was good times. A great variety of roast beasts were involved. I'm going to have to go into the liqueur-making business.
I didn't realize you can take some theory classes by correspondence. I also didn't realize that you can get an ARCT in composition and/or theory. Here's the requirements for the Comp & Theory combined ARCT:
So I'm thinking I'll do the 2 remaining exams for Performance ARCT theory co-requisites this year (I do believe that I could be ready to write the exams in August), take a couple years to get back into the vocal groove, and do that ARCT. And then maybe, maybe, I can do up the necessaries to tack on the teacher's ARCT, but I doubt it. And then, when I can afford the time, I'll tackle the Composition/Theory ARCT. But that's a lot of exams, plus three compositions (one piece has to be for orchestra—I've only done the slightest of orchestration), plus a fairly lengthy research paper which shouldn't be too much of a problem but then again maybe it will.
This is the plan. What it will gain me in the end is slightly unclear, as always. I'm fine with that; the more degrees/designations the merrier. I was sad I didn't complete my BFA, but this is an alternate route that I've actually been working on since I was 13 without realizing it.
Speaking of music, I completed the score of Rhine but it will have to wait to be posted. Stupid Finale doesn't export MIDI and I can't find my disk to install it on my Mac, so I tried to scan the printouts and it's so bad that the staves have only three lines. But there you have it. At least now I have a copy of it. Hey... could this count as my solo instrument composition? Probably it has to be way better. Ah well, all in good time. I'll get to compose a choral piece too (choral or chamber, that is, but I'm a choral sort of person—ever since NYC I've wanted to compose like Whitacre).
I didn't realize you can take some theory classes by correspondence. I also didn't realize that you can get an ARCT in composition and/or theory. Here's the requirements for the Comp & Theory combined ARCT:
- 3-hour exam in each of the following courses: Renaissance Counterpoint; Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint I; Baroque Harmony and Counterpoint II; Classical Harmony and Counterpoint; Romantic and Post-Romantic Harmony and Counterpoint; Post-1900 Composition Techniques; Orchestration I; Orchestration II; Analysis; History I; History II; Ear Test.
- Three compositions and one 5000-word research paper.
- Viva Voce oral defense of work submitted in Part 2.
- Also must have the pre- and co-requisites of harmony, history, counterpoint, and analysis.
So I'm thinking I'll do the 2 remaining exams for Performance ARCT theory co-requisites this year (I do believe that I could be ready to write the exams in August), take a couple years to get back into the vocal groove, and do that ARCT. And then maybe, maybe, I can do up the necessaries to tack on the teacher's ARCT, but I doubt it. And then, when I can afford the time, I'll tackle the Composition/Theory ARCT. But that's a lot of exams, plus three compositions (one piece has to be for orchestra—I've only done the slightest of orchestration), plus a fairly lengthy research paper which shouldn't be too much of a problem but then again maybe it will.
This is the plan. What it will gain me in the end is slightly unclear, as always. I'm fine with that; the more degrees/designations the merrier. I was sad I didn't complete my BFA, but this is an alternate route that I've actually been working on since I was 13 without realizing it.
Speaking of music, I completed the score of Rhine but it will have to wait to be posted. Stupid Finale doesn't export MIDI and I can't find my disk to install it on my Mac, so I tried to scan the printouts and it's so bad that the staves have only three lines. But there you have it. At least now I have a copy of it. Hey... could this count as my solo instrument composition? Probably it has to be way better. Ah well, all in good time. I'll get to compose a choral piece too (choral or chamber, that is, but I'm a choral sort of person—ever since NYC I've wanted to compose like Whitacre).
Friday, December 22, 2006
Christmas songs are crap
Sii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-lent Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.
Ho-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ly Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.
Kate and I were reminiscing about how Christmas songs these days are crap, and the only stipulation seems to be that you have to drag out each syllable for ~9 seconds. Except for the awesome rock medley, where they must have a drum machine going. I am a poor boy too PA RUM PA PUM PUM!!! [bff-bff-bff-BFF! bff-bff-bff-BFF!] ... 'TIS! the season to be jolly, FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA! LA! LA! So harsh it's great.
Tomorrow is "Christmas" for my immediate family (excepting my brother). I can guess what I'm getting! (I bought and wrapped the presents, after all. To Megan. Merry Christmas.)
My favourite Christmas image: Brent and Hank pulling at opposite ends of an aluminum Christmas tree à la tug-of-war (Brent wants to take it back home because it's his; Hank wants be the good samaritan and take it to the dump). As it is yanked in twain, Wanda gazes heavenward: "God bless us, every one." Yes indeedy.
Either that or I just wanted to say "twain."
All I can say is there had better be some darn epic Boxing Day Celebrations (which would take place on the 24th, naturally, with the 23rd being Christmas—or "X-mas" as [I'm guessing] the makers of certain comic book movies will likely soon advertise it as. An X-Men X-Mas. I'd better get credit when that movie comes out.)
It occurs to me that I haven't been drunk in a very very long time. I should remedy that.
I kind of have butterflies, well not so much butterflies as an awful gut-wrenching feeling of uneasiness and disappoinment. fa la la la la
Ho-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ly Ni-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ght.
Kate and I were reminiscing about how Christmas songs these days are crap, and the only stipulation seems to be that you have to drag out each syllable for ~9 seconds. Except for the awesome rock medley, where they must have a drum machine going. I am a poor boy too PA RUM PA PUM PUM!!! [bff-bff-bff-BFF! bff-bff-bff-BFF!] ... 'TIS! the season to be jolly, FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA! LA! LA! So harsh it's great.
Tomorrow is "Christmas" for my immediate family (excepting my brother). I can guess what I'm getting! (I bought and wrapped the presents, after all. To Megan. Merry Christmas.)
My favourite Christmas image: Brent and Hank pulling at opposite ends of an aluminum Christmas tree à la tug-of-war (Brent wants to take it back home because it's his; Hank wants be the good samaritan and take it to the dump). As it is yanked in twain, Wanda gazes heavenward: "God bless us, every one." Yes indeedy.
Either that or I just wanted to say "twain."
All I can say is there had better be some darn epic Boxing Day Celebrations (which would take place on the 24th, naturally, with the 23rd being Christmas—or "X-mas" as [I'm guessing] the makers of certain comic book movies will likely soon advertise it as. An X-Men X-Mas. I'd better get credit when that movie comes out.)
It occurs to me that I haven't been drunk in a very very long time. I should remedy that.
I kind of have butterflies, well not so much butterflies as an awful gut-wrenching feeling of uneasiness and disappoinment. fa la la la la
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The Magic of Migraines
This is where I usually get titles for songs and poems. I almost settled for cattalo for my new jazz song. "Exeunt Cattalo" (titter titter—Julie-Anne was admiring my tittering the other day). Better than "Bootless Beetle-Headed Barnacle." Shakespeare is not a good source for titles. Nothing beats a random generator. On that note, there are two new songs and two new recordings of old ones. I think all the static I used to wrestle with was produced entirely by the Luther Chapel, because my recordings at home were pretty good (other than the piano not being great, but I almost like it better than Luther's).
Zumanity's publicist (i.e. the guy I had to send my last article to for review/editing) is named John McCoy. I find that amusing. He liked my article and wants me to send 2 copies of it to him in Las Vegas!
I am now a New Blogger blogger, as opposed to an Old Moldy Blogger blogger. You should be too. All you need is a google account, which—I like to say this whenever I can—if you're normal you should already have.
The (semi)final migraine diagnosis: learn to live with it. I will (maybe) stop complaining about it at least until the summer.
Mēgan's Guide To Living With It
Zumanity's publicist (i.e. the guy I had to send my last article to for review/editing) is named John McCoy. I find that amusing. He liked my article and wants me to send 2 copies of it to him in Las Vegas!
I am now a New Blogger blogger, as opposed to an Old Moldy Blogger blogger. You should be too. All you need is a google account, which—I like to say this whenever I can—if you're normal you should already have.
The (semi)final migraine diagnosis: learn to live with it. I will (maybe) stop complaining about it at least until the summer.
Mēgan's Guide To Living With It
- Eat if you get hungry.
- Never take a nap. If you must take one, for god's sake close the blind and turn on a fan. Better yet: go outside. If it's winter, shovel some snow. If it's summer, jump in the nearest pond.
- Always do your stretches.
- Ibuprofen and Acetaminopen both come in quick-release gel-cap form. They won't help you anyway though.
- Migraine-strength ibuprofen is doubly strong as the regular kind; you should therefore not take the maximum daily dose that you dimly recall being on the regular bottle if you have the stronger kind. Especially not every day. Your stomach will hate you forever.
- Always carry an emergency pill if you leave the house. Even if you're only going to be gone for a couple hours, even if you feel fabulous, even if you've felt fabulous for the entire week. Keep it in your pocket—your pants pocket—so that you'll have it when you need it. It's just going to be useless in your jacket.
- Don't stop taking preventative pills, even if you start feeling fine all the time. Especially if you feel fine all the time, because that's what they (allegedly and occasionally) do, they make you feel fine.
- If your temple feels like it's going to explode, it is probably more likely to explode than if it didn't feel that way. So make it stop feeling that way as soon as possible.
- Don't think that just because you've had it for 2 days it will probably go away if you tough it out for another couple days. It won't. Eat the damn poison. What are you saving it for if not for moments like this?
- Make your doctor prescribe something you know will work. After all, you're the one paying through the nose for semi-normal life; they should give you what's necessary.
- Reiki's a bunch of bullshit. Don't bother with it. "The platelets on your head are out of alignment, that's why you're getting this pain. I'll just put them back in place." Or, my personal favourite: "Purple is associated with energy of the head. Here, I'll give you this purple glowstick. When you get a headache, look at it and your headache will go away."
Friday, December 15, 2006
Freelancin'
One last article to go, then I will be done with deadlines and interviews and all that jazz. One benefit of freelancing is that I sometimes get to talk to interesting people. The final article is about an alumnus who is in Cirque du Soleil. Hmm, that's kind of neat, I think to myself. Turns out I got to interview Canada's world-famous clown Izzy. Pretty darn neat. The surprising thing is that I actually have heard of her before. But I still don't have enough words!
- :0 My goodness, so much free sheet music here. They don't have Liszt's Vallee d'Oberman but I've finally located it elsewhere. Someday I will obtain it and learn to play it.
- mobius bottle!! In one end and out the other... to infinity! I like their suggestion for cleaning it: "Expose the water (but not the glass) to a beam of pure antimatter."
- Ich bin ein Kaboodler. From which you may notice there's a new lapsura store. (For future expansion or elimination.)
Who's There?
I just discovered that my great-grandmother was a Russian princess. Which means you should do as I say.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Fed Up
Can you believe it? I'm actually sick of watching π.
Argh, I should have been done this blasted article today... My head is so throbbing and I can't think of anything else to write but I still don't have the word count I need. If I make it any more wordy it'll be obvious. Ugh, who's the idiot that invented pain? I don't mind if it's useful, like ow don't touch that it's hot type of pain, or quit bumping your shins on everything you clumsy oaf type of pain. This is just a big waste of time and life.
I ask you, what kind of advice is "oh just go to emergency when you get them"? Yes, just go to emergency, where you'll wait for five hours (on a good day) under those lights that say "BBBBBZZZZZZ!!!" and the smell of hospital (bad place if you've got a touch of nausea). If you're lucky, you can increase the wait time of everybody else and prevent someone with a real emergency from getting timely attention. Do this roughly twice a week? No thanks, I spent my one and only emergency visit with my head between my knees, trying hard not to throw up or feel bitter towards the guy in handcuffs escorted by police who got in right away because he was bleeding all over, then the nurse screwed up both my hands trying to put in an IV ("Oh look, I missed your vein again. You can tell because, see this here, your hand is filling up with the fluid." "I CAN SEE THAT, TAKE IT OUT!!!").
Argh, I should have been done this blasted article today... My head is so throbbing and I can't think of anything else to write but I still don't have the word count I need. If I make it any more wordy it'll be obvious. Ugh, who's the idiot that invented pain? I don't mind if it's useful, like ow don't touch that it's hot type of pain, or quit bumping your shins on everything you clumsy oaf type of pain. This is just a big waste of time and life.
I ask you, what kind of advice is "oh just go to emergency when you get them"? Yes, just go to emergency, where you'll wait for five hours (on a good day) under those lights that say "BBBBBZZZZZZ!!!" and the smell of hospital (bad place if you've got a touch of nausea). If you're lucky, you can increase the wait time of everybody else and prevent someone with a real emergency from getting timely attention. Do this roughly twice a week? No thanks, I spent my one and only emergency visit with my head between my knees, trying hard not to throw up or feel bitter towards the guy in handcuffs escorted by police who got in right away because he was bleeding all over, then the nurse screwed up both my hands trying to put in an IV ("Oh look, I missed your vein again. You can tell because, see this here, your hand is filling up with the fluid." "I CAN SEE THAT, TAKE IT OUT!!!").
Failed treatments to date: many many. Yes I cower in the dark wearing sunglasses and earplugs. Precioussss. Apparently my pounding temples and I are 10 times more likely to have a stroke. I'm not sure compared to who. Maybe Gollum.
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