Four Day Weekend

Bon soir mes amis!

I’m so delighted that I’ve finally reached my winter break, and have an entire four day weekend. So far, it’s been pretty fabulous. I checked out a play about the jazz singer Alberta Hunter on Tuesday, and while one of the actresses was exceedingly exasperating, the music was great and took up more than half of the show. Unfortunately, I bought our season’s tickets later this year so we’ve been sitting about a third of the way up in the seats, which is not as intimate as our usual fourth row vantage point.

Last night my sister and I went to see the Bedouin Soundclash, joined by The Junction, and both groups were awesome. The Junction had a fantastic bassist, who was super sweet when I met him after the concert. Their singer was pretty emo/screamo, and was really intense, closing his eyes for the complete duration of most of the songs. Bedouin plays super danceable indie-reggae, with influences as diverse as The Clash and Bob Marley. Jess and I really got our grooves on, except for a brief period when these rather tipsy girls were inadvertently shaking their hair in my face.

There have been some weird developments in politics recently, with the Gomery Report (which largely exonerated Paul Martin) seemingly increasing the Conservative’s ratings in opinion polls. Have Canadians been paying attention? I suppose I can understand voters’ frustration with the Liberals, even though it was Chrètien who’s really being blamed for the sponsorship scandal. However, how can they then transfer their trust into a party that clearly fabricated Dingwall’s supposedly exorbitant spending and Martin’s involvement in his rival Chrètien’s dirty dealings? There's still a great deal to develop in the next months before the inevitable election, so perhaps the electorate will shift their sentiments again. Sadly, politics is increasingly becoming about the spin rather than the reality.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised with Martin in his term as PM so far, with his opposition to Star Wars, creation of a national childcare system, spending in health care, and strong (albeit futile) stance against America’s ridiculous tariffs on soft wood. Today, Bush actually tried to rebut his critics’ arguments, and the result was truly pathetic. He said in a statement, somehow deemed appropriate on Veteran’s Day, "Some Democrats and anti-war critics are now claiming we manipulated the intelligence and misled the American people about why we went to war. They also know that intelligence agencies from around the world agreed with our assessment of Saddam Hussein."

What agencies might those be? Even Great Britain, known for it’s many intelligence agencies, relied only on Bush’s information in deciding to go to war. Nancy Pelosi wisely admonished Bush for politicizing Veterans Day, saying "On Veterans Day we should come together to honor those who have served in our Armed Forces. Instead, President Bush is using Veterans Day to try to bolster his political standing on the war in Iraq rather than honor our nation's men and women in uniform.” I suppose I should take solace in the fact that his approval ratings are ridiculously low right now, and the Republicans are totally trying to distance themselves from him today. Finally, the Americans may have a glint of hope!

Anyway, I should probably get going. I have to find some hillbilly clothes for a bowling night with the College and Career group at my church tomorrow. I’m not really sure if the vintage shop by my house sells much plaid, but I’m praying that they’ve got something that resembles what a hillbilly would wear. Sadly, I recently gave away my quasi-hillbillyish straw hat to the Sally Ann, and don’t really have anything else to wear. I hope everyone has an über fun weekend too! There’s a huge football playoff game that my team is playing on Sunday, and the outcome of the game will likely determine how the rest of my weekend will play out.

Enjoie votre weekend!

Franz and Charles

Hey blog-viewers!

I’m in the middle of midterms right now, and it’s complete lunacy again. Fortunately, three of my five courses this semester are psych courses, which are not only notoriously easy, but populated with students who really don’t study for any significant amount of time. Despite all of the hectic note-taking and reading that I’ve been occupied with recently, I’ve found the time to listen almost obsessively to my current music faves. I think the greatest of all is Franz Ferdinand’s “You Could Have It So Much Better” (shortened to YCHISMB on lots of sites right now). It’s seriously one of the best sophomore albums ever, especially considering how much I adored their first self-titled record. I was a bit nervous for this record, especially after liking, but not loving, Coldplay’s latest “X &Y.” Although I realize that may seem impossible, YCHISMB is actually even better than the first, with songs reminiscent of the Beatles balanced out by the dance-tastic “Evil and a Heathen” and bouncy riffs of “Outsiders.” According to NME, Alex even missed the two weddings of his band-mates as he was so engrossed in the album-making process this summer.

















My top two picks from this record are “Fade Together” and “Eleanor Put Your Boots On,” both surprisingly tender, and of course lyrically brilliant tracks. “Fade Together” has a floaty sound, and speaks about the sometimes over-intensity of love. It’s a lovely song, with an eerie echoing piano playing throughout and their great delivery of lyrics. “Eleanor Put Your Boots On” is a sweet song, directed to Alex’s über-cool girlfriend Eleanor Friedberger (one half of The Fiery Furnaces”). By the by, Eleanor’s brother Matthew is one of the most eloquent and unintentionally hilarious musicians ever. They were recently interviewed by London’s fabulously liberal/intelligent newspaper The Guardian, and I’ll paste a quote of Matthew’s. You might have to have heard some of The Fiery Furnaces to understand why his descriptions of their music are so ridiculous (yet fittingly appropriate).

"‘A hippopotamus and a wolverine are both strong, domineering mammals,’ he says, waving his hands around excitedly. ‘Ultimately, they are very different - yet they are related. We are like the wolverines, Slayer are the hippos. Both are very exaggerated, primitive albums, for their own particular reasons. Anyway,’ he concludes, ‘this is ultimately a mainstream rock record. Like INXS.’ Eleanor does not look as if she is inclined to agree.”

Back to Franz, they are also super cool guys aside from their magnificent musical talents. Alex even shares my deep love for Charles Bukowski, one of the best poets of the twentieth century. Bukowski was pretty rough around the edges as a heavy drinker and womanizer, but his writing is astonishingly transparent and honest, and his style is fluid and intelligent without any condescension or pretense. Because he writes about his inner thoughts, and observations that no one else writes about, his poetry is strangely pertinent in spite of its harsh criticism and pessimism. He’s such a prolific writer, so there are always more of his anthologies for me to take out from the library. What’s even more impressive about his career is that he started out as a postal worker writing poetry on the side, and eventually wrote for an acquaintance for obscenely low wages (I believe he was on the verge of starvation at some points). Later in his life, Bukowski became pretty popular in the poetry scene, and enjoyed a great deal of attention from his young female audience, some of whom he courted on the side. He eventually married, but continued to write his perceptively candid pieces until his death in the late ’90s.

On an entirely different note, I just got back from decorating cakes with a group of girls from my bible study last night. This was not just spreading icing on a cake that we baked; it was full-fledged “flower/leaf/shells making with the bag” cake-decorating. I decorated a cake as a pumpkin with a coupe of other girls, and I must tell you that it looked awesome! We made the ridges of the pumpkin with black piping, and put really cute vines with leaves all over it. It even tasted delectable! On the opposite end of the taste spectrum, the picture of my complete disgust was taken at my grandma's this past weekend after I had a really sick brandy chocolate. My grandma and grandpa don't drink alcohol (mainly because they think it's a bit hypocritical for a pastor to do so), so they have this huge box of chocolates from their neighbour that they can't eat. I wasn't supposed to look so perturbed, but the flavour of alcohol in the centre was quite alarming. I suppose I just haven't acquired a taste for brandy. Anyhow, I should get some shut-eye before I open the café tomorrow at 5:30 (groan). But maybe, as Bukowski warned, it could be “the last night of the world.”

Happy trails!

It's Been a While

I’ve retuned!

It’s been a long summer and start to a first semester, and I’ve completely neglected this blog. My four month long sojourn from school, by the way, was pretty fabulous. Notable events included new releases from Death Cab for Cutie, Franz Ferdinand, My Morning Jacket, Coldplay, The Decemberists, Broken Social Scene, and Ryan Adams. My family and I hung out in Vancouver and Tofino for a couple of weeks, and I attended the Folk Festival, Fringe, Street Performers’ Festival, and many more yearly must-see cultural events. I also checked out some Formula One Racing that stopped in Edmonton, and it was so incredibly foreign to me! Somehow my sister really got into it, but all I can say I got out of it was the worst sunburn of my life (almost second degree). Of course, with a bit of aloe vera and icing the pain of a burn can be quelled sufficiently, but the extreme redness of my face and arms was the cause of many jokes and comments at work. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life!

During my break from school-prescribed literature, I read two really profoundly deep books: The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and 1984 by George Orwell. The former is an empathetic examination of clinical depression and a young woman’s experience in the middle of the previous century. Plath’s writing is so fluid, and remarkably rich with subtle symbolism and imagery. I’ve never really understood what a depressed person felt like, and she made it so vivid and heartrending in her poetic descriptions. 1984 is perhaps a less touching, but rather alarming, examination of repressive societies of a just post-war world. Orwell has a gift of illustrating his concerns through inconceivable and yet entirely credible other-worlds. 1984 is likely the most hopeless novel I’ve ever read, but its intelligence and nuanced examination of political issues was worth the disheartening read. I totally recommend both, despite their melancholy subject matter!

Another suggestion I would make for your personal pleasure would be to check out the atmospheric, although totally non-Canadian, sounds of Boards of Canada. This group has a pretty experimental, maybe indie, approach to its exclusively electronica tracks. Some of their songs, especially those without the somewhat excessive beat tracks, are truly stirring. My favourite is a short piece called “In the Annexe” which totally reminds me of these classic film adaptations from the late ’80s of Canadian short stories put out by the National Film Board of Canada. I must have watched 20 of these videos in my high school English classes, and they never ceased to entertain me! The best feature of these films was their shortsighted use of what would have then been trendy synthesized ambient music, but now sounds dated and absurd. There’s nothing like having a tender moment between two characters interrupted by a cacophony of awkward keyboard cords. Who knows what the incredible Garden State soundtrack will sound like when this generation's children watch the film years from now?

The picture I’ve included is of my sister in our kitchen after my grandma's unbelievably good Thanksgiving dinner last weekend. I think she’s even eating some of my grandma’s tomato harvest (hence the curious bulge in her cheek). I had four dinners during the weekend, likely a record, and it’s a miracle that I didn’t explode. I’m already missing the turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie! My dad (who is a grade 3 teacher) remarked recently that he thought a holiday for giving thanks once a year was really insufficient, and he planned to discuss thankfulness throughout the year with his students. Especially in this year of hurricanes, earthquakes, war, and celebrity-initiated anti-poverty campaigns, it’s so important to count our blessings.

It’s often easy to complain about the unfair taxes we pay or how others have wronged us, but we have relatively infinite resources in this economically and socially polarized world. Amazingly, impoverished people in other countries, particularly in Africa, find joy in seemingly insignificant pleasures. We’ve been discussing Bentham’s ideas on the proportionate happiness that wealth brings the individual in my Poli Sci class, but I genuinely believe that the small pleasures in life and the peace that God grants us are all that’s necessary for us to reach our full “happiness-potential.” Ironically, it’s in the exceedingly hedonistic lifestyles of Western culture that the most apathy and cynicism develop. As we try desperately to achieve that ideal state of happiness, we experience more frustration, disappointment, exhaustion, and emptiness. If only our society could find total contentment in the simple pleasures of life, like star gazing, a beautiful song, or the not-so-simple love of God.

As the Brits quaintly say: cheerio!

School Insanity

Greetings and salutations!

I'm writing this in the midst of a crazy week at school. If I wasn't busy writing up a lab, I was studying for a midterm or reading the remarkably long Jane Eyre. But I must remember the relativity of my plight: there are children dying in Africa, billions living in appalling conditions worldwide, and people who can only dream of receiving an education. It's so easy to lose perspective when I feel like I'm drowning in work, yet it's important not to take my prosperity for granted.

Thank goodness the weekend is here. I plan on catching up on news and TV, making cookies, and indulging in some über fun church activities. My weekend's soundtrack is sure to be Iron and Wine's latest release: Woman King. If you have yet to discover this indie/folk-genius, I would definitely recommend his album. Sam Beam is the mind behind the whole operation, and his music has developed a pretty large following (for an indie singer) over the past year thanks to iTunes. This newest record is totally intoxicating, and correspondingly addictive. Not only are the tracks perfect for walking around campus and reading textbooks, but they're lovely tunes to fall asleep to as well.

I believe he teaches (or at least taught at one point) cinematography at college, which is really apparent in his stunning music videos. Beam seems to be good friends with The Shins, and has toured with them in the past, even singing one of their songs on the Grammy-winning Garden State soundtrack. If anyone reading this hasn't seen this movie, directed by and starring the fantastic Zach Braff, you're missing out. It's been hailed as The Graduate of this generation, a claim that I think is merited. While I've never been on antidepressants, or lost a parent, this film just rings so true to me, and is a beautiful portrait of the main character's return home and ensuing transformation. It makes me laugh, cry, and think, often simultaneously.

This week has really been a week of the courts, with the Air India ruling here in Canada, and other trials being ruled on in the States (Robert Blake's acquittal, Scott Peterson's sentencing, Lil' Kim's conviction, and today's removal of Terri Schiavo's feeding tube). Of course, the Michael Jackson "trial of the century" is ongoing, but it really hasn't received the O.J. attention I thought it would garner (thankfully). Even if these latest accusations are untrue (which they very well may be), creepy things are obviously going on at the Neverland Ranch.

Jackson has clearly caused damage in many kids' lives, and that saddens me so much, but the truly pathetic character in this whole mess is Jackson himself. He is so blatantly out to lunch (as evidenced by the Martin Bashir documentary, his deformed face, attire of pajamas, etc.). It just goes to show that putting a young person in the adult realm of show biz can really screw that individual up in a bizarre way. Jackson sincerely believes that the public will buy his crap about loving children and never having plastic surgery, and he is completely deluding himself about his situation. I just hope justice is served, and maybe he can sort his life out.

I rented Alfie tonight with my family, and despite an initially annoying plot, it had a surprisingly poignant ending, not to mention a fantastically debonair lead actor. I definitely understand Jude Law's reluctance to embrace his "Sexiest Man Alive" moniker, but his gorgeousness is undeniable. Sean Penn was right, though, in defending Law at the Oscars; there are tons of young throwaway actors in Hollywood, but this is certainly not one of them. Law's performances in Cold Mountain, The Talented Mr. Ripley, and Closer demonstrate this undeniably.


















Laugh out loud read of the day: Matthew McKinnon's "The World According to Sly" for the arts division of CBC. It's a hilarious look at Sylvester Stallone's new magazine. I can't actually believe some of the tripe that McKinnon found in this publication; Stallone was clearly never intended to start up a magazine, especially one set up almost exclusively for self-glorification. The best excerpt was: Sly’s Top 10 Tips for Life (page 120): “3. Enthusiasm is like a wonderful disease – keep rubbing it all over yourself until you’re infected.” Who knows? Maybe men will actually read it; I just don't understand how any reader in their right mind could take it seriously. Alright, it's time for bed now.

Bonne journée!

me - chucks = 0

Good day!

A horrible incident took place yesterday evening, the details of which I will relate here. I was walking to the evening service at my church last night, and since my city has been experiencing abnormally above 0 Co recently, the sidewalk was covered by lake-sized puddles. Because it was pitch black, I stepped into a particularly muddy puddle, leaving my beautiful high-top Converse Chucks in a poor state. Thus, I created a huge trail of shoe prints through the church and had an uncomfortable 90 minutes in the service.




















Of course, my shoes can just be thrown in the washer, but it takes them about a day to dry. This left me with ballet flats to wear to school today, which I discovered are not appropriate for the weather yet despite the high temperatures. By the time I arrived at my Chem lecture (which took close to 20 minutes), my feet resembled some sort of post-operative monstrosity. They were reddish-purple in colour, and appeared as if they were foreign appendages that had been sewed onto my legs. Needless to say, I hid my feet under my chair during classes. Moral of the story: treat your Chucks with care.

Ever since a few summers ago, I’ve been overly dependent on Converse as my effectively exclusive footwear. Yes, Converse is owned by the sweat-shop using, axis of evil magnate Nike, but their shoes are just sooo attractive and über cool that I can’t help myself. I truly can’t imagine a more comfortable, universally matchable shoe, and they’re totally classic yet “au current.” There’s this tremendous vintage store in my city called Divine that sells a great selection of Chuck Taylors, and whenever I go there with my sister (pictured below being silly with my mom), the manager manipulates us into buying another pair, most of which I’ve outgrown.

I’m thinking of getting the new John Lennon high-tops, with partial proceeds going to some peace related cause, but I’m trying to save up for some other stuff right now, like music. I got the latest Jack Johnson album from iTunes today, and it is transcendentally beautiful. The simple combination of his voice and a guitar works so well, and produces this really pure sound. His folksy singing is absolutely gorgeous, and the lyrics are full of great imagery and messages. This is definitely one to pick up! My Statistics homework is calling to me at the moment, so I’d better attend to it.

















In the eternal words of Spock: live long and prosper!

Bienvenue

Hello all!

Welcome to my brand spanking new blog, born into this puzzling post-modern world. I figured one more place to express myself couldn’t hurt; indeed, one can never dissent/contemplate/gush too much. I hope to keep this blog interesting, but expect you to keep me accountable if I don’t! I'll post tons of pictures, and maybe they'll do a bit to break up my meandering blabbering. Since I’m a really passionate person (perhaps overly so), it’ll be tricky for me to run out of things to say. However, what I find fascinating may bore you to death--read at your own risk. I plan to write again, so keep posted!

Asta la vista!