just another passing fancy: September 2005

Friday, September 30, 2005

trying not to have monumental amounts of self pity

ow. ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow...and...taste of blood? ew.

Today I got four fillings (my first cavities after 21 years; how heartbreaking) and all four of my wisdom teeth removed without being put under. So now, I'm starting to resemble some form of woodland creatures.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

back in september

"He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream, and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it." - Douglas Adams

This month has been filled with tri- weekly breakfasts with Maura, impromptu coffee dates with Grant, lunches with various wonderful people, and a bonfire at Lauren's housewarming party where Alexis and I discussed the importance of doing things that don't have to make sense. One of the most valuable lessons that she taught me that night was the art of perfectly roasting a marshmallow. Those are a few highlights of September, but there's one that I hold as a favourite.

Right before school started, Paul invited me to go along for a ride on the riverboat, where he works, and I brought Maura along with me. When we arrived at the river, we were missing a fundamental part of our excursion. The boat. So, we walked and subsequently got lost to the applause of the rain, and quite frankly became hysterical ( with laughter) because the only thing we could find in our situation was comedy. Unfortunetly, poor Paul had to be on the phone in midst of our hysteria before we calmed down and found our way to the Queen. And so Maura and I sailed, with our teas and hot chocolates ( courtesy of Paul), arm and arm into the sunset with the downtown skyline to keep us company. We waited for Paul to be off before we set off for a late night dinner at Block 1912 and discussed the important fundamental lessons that Oregon Trail provided us in our youth. For example, if you don't eat enough fruits and vegetables, you'll get scurvy. You cannot carry more than a 100 pounds of buffalo meat back to your wagon. Doctors make more money than farmers. And most importantly, you should always caulk your wagon instead of fording it.

There's a saying by Sophocles that I found recently, he says, "we must wait until the evening to see how splendid the day had been". The best part of the day is when I walk from school to yoga; that walk climaxes to the moment when I step on my mat. It's become a ritual to walk past stressed out drivers with their cell phones beeping and ipods blaring as the soundtrack for frantic wage slaves. Sometimes, if I'm really early, I'll treat myself to a chai latte at the Starbucks facing the Yoga Loft and I reflect. The days have been splendid. Thanks to you.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

My mom recently bought me an electric toothbrush. now, I realise that a toothbrush isn't considered to be the height of technology, but if it needs to be plugged in and has buttons to press, invariably, it'll always take me just a little bit longer to figure it out. I don't get my toothbrush. I plug it in for the required amount of time, take it out, and start brushing my teeth but it whimpers and stops all movement after a few seconds, and when I stick it back on the charger, it still doesn't respond. BUT THEN, when I turn off the light, it starts whirring away - and when I turn the light back on, it stops. My toothbrush is possessed.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Sound Off
"They are lucky that we allow them to exist on the same continent as the United States of America".
http://www.hugi.is/hahradi/bigboxes.php?box_id=51208&f_id=1211
let me know your thoughts. but first, here's mine - ****ing bitch.

Monday, September 19, 2005

borrowed nation

Part of my BA/English Major requirements is to have credits in Canadian literature. This caused a great deal of annoyance because I had previously dismissed Canadian literature as naturalistic and boring. My Canadian lit class is now probably my favourite class this semester because the material and the Prof are amazing. I confirmed two things this first 2 weeks of class about myself and Canada - 1. I am, as ever, politically inept, and 2. I actually have an opinion on Canadian politics regardless of the former discovery.
Social conservative, George Grant, mourned for Canadian nationalism, which has been abandoned for a seemingly more attractive American culture. He continues, with his notion, that scientific advancements and technological progress will inevitably give politicians power to make one homogeneous society. Canada is being assimilated with the United States and its culture is fading while attempting to progress. Grant outlines the irony behind Canada’s ambition for advancement; its aspirations for progression has to lead to no actual progress, and therefore, Canada is disappearing as a nation and reappearing as an annex of the United States.
Western civilisation portrays consumer culture and scientific discoveries as the means to achieving perfection. Individuals are given the idea that being immersed in this form of materialism will seemingly fulfill their lives. Every few months, there’s an updated version of a product that is giving the illusion that our society is achieving this generation’s expectations of greatness. Our country’s worth, and its citizens, is being measured by materialism, monetary value and technological advancement; all of this culminates in Grant’s idea of American greed.
Today, the idea of the American Dream, is not only marketed strictly to Americans, but has become a global phenomenon representing achievement. Everyone is pressured to follow this goal that has been established by American society. The qualities that describe this "dream", are to be wealthy, to have power and prestige; however, the inability to live up to the societal expectations of their culture will therefore create a sense of failure and inferiority. This is a socially constructed reality, forced onto us by consumer commodity capitalism and the obsession with appropriation.
Our passivity is allowing the Americans to bully their way into our homes and seduce us into thinking that their way is the right way. I won’t deny that I prefer many things that have originated in the States, and that more often than not, the USA is made up of a fine bunch of people. The point is, however, we don’t have a distinction between us and the United States. Canada is becoming startlingly similar to the United States in culture and attitude at an increasingly rapid pace. This conformity that our society is leaning towards, renders our individual identity inconsequential. Emerson said, ‘imitation is suicide". By becoming the reflection of our southern border, we risk erasing our own, albeit young, identity. A common description of Canadian culture is ‘’not American’’; but besides not being American, what are we?

Monday, September 05, 2005

After much procrastination, I have decided to forget the whole "recount of trip" idea and just give a few highlights and move on. So, here we go.
- the phrase book was incredibly useful when asking questions, but I never had the faintest idea of the answer.
- two women from the Bronx asked me if samosas contained salmon, and when I told them no, and that it's Indian food, they asked me if I was Indian. I told them yes.
- one of the highlights in Venice were the water buses. the "station" was a rickety platform on the water.
- Dubrovnik(Croatia) was the most beautiful city I have ever seen. Not only the most beautiful, but the coolest. The entire city is surrounded by fortress walls; you access the old city from a drawbridge.
-the only time Italian drivers will notice you on the road is from their review mirror.
-after spending a lot of time with Italians, I am sad to say that the French are in fact, quite rude.
- trains in Cannes were all "undeterminably delayed".
- met the loveliest people from south africa, jacksonville, illinois, and myenmar. These people would save a bag of green tea for me from breakfast when I didn't make it (Saw, Myenmar), an extra piece of sundried tomato bread when I was late for dinner ( Jacobus, SA), and make sure that they always asked if I wanted to join a tour they were going on incase I didn't want to be alone ( Rhonda, Dylan, Angela, Illinois).
- went to pompeii and climbed mount vesuvius. was more like an upward hike. highlight for many was the giant, erect phallus, engraved in the cobblestone, indicating the red light district of the ancient city.
- was bitched out by a cracked up, whored out platinum blonde bombshell in the middle of Prada.
- oh, and that cute boy from the front desk? his name is vaughn, from south africa. he moved to rome to learn to speak italian and finish his masters. on the last day in rome, he insisted that I do all the touristy stuff that I've been so afraid of. so, he bought me a rose from a street vendor; then we went for dinner on a sidewalk café, complete with acoustic guitar and accordion player, and went on a horse drawn carriage ride. And so we said goodbye. It wouldn't be just a summer fling until a few days later, but in that moment, to the soundtrack of the horse's clipclopping on cobblestoned streets, it was un attimo di tenerezza e di amare.
I promise that when I remember a story, or get a burst of creative energy, I'll tell it. But for now, I'll conclude with saying that I really hope that the end of this adventure doesn't mean the end of a story. Just the end of a chapter.

just another passing fancy