I debated for a bit whether or not I would actually post this entry, but in spirit of saying whatever the hell I want and not wanting to self-censor, I decided in the end that I would post it.
I know I've been talking about the cold a lot lately, but it's been on a lot of people's mind here in more then just a small-talk-reserve in the back of your brain kind of way.
The thing is, cold makes some people go a little crazy. Just like excessive heat, wind, rain, drought, or darkness, you've gotta wonder sometimes how much the recent cold spell in the Canadian Prairies has been effecting our brains.
A lot of people, myself included, like to rave about how perfect Canada is. Low crime rates, generally nice people (I have to qualify that just because nobody is perfect), equal opportunities, beautiful countryside, and hot hockey players have all combined to make Canada my perfect and ideal home. However, just like anywhere else, we have our problems. What might be different is that our problems and flaws seem to spring up when the temperature goes way down.
You've probably read the horrifying story that took place on Tuesday when a father of two little girls, aged 1 and 3, took them out for a 400 meter walk at 12:30 am. When it was minus 35 degrees without the wind chill factor. Oh, and the girls were only wearing diapers and t shirts.
Talking about this makes me sick. WRITING about this makes me sick.
There are so many other societal issues that go along with this, I don't even know where to start! The father was drinking. The mother isn't saying where she was or what she was doing when this happened. It happened on a reserve. The father didn't even mention that his children were still outside in the cold until eight hours after he got to the hospital.
Many representatives for the First Nations People say that this kind of behavior is the result of the treatment received in residential schools (what, 100 years ago now?) and neglect from the Canadian government. This is where I tend to get riled, so I'll stop this rant right here.
This doesn't mean that I think that Canada is a worse place because of the winter-crazy, it just means that Canada is a nation like any other: imperfect, but, hopefully, growing and getting better.
Basically, in conclusion, cold makes the crazies crazier and those who just want to report a horrifying tragedy in the news in their nothing blog, seem like extra strength near political ranters.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
A Cottage Cheese Emergency
My mom is a nurse who works nights at one of the local hospitals. This is something that my family has had to get used to over the past couple of years, as my mom isn't a very... pleasant... person when she doesn't get enough sleep.
Today, while I was in my hovel being very quiet so that she got enough sleep, I heard people walking around upstairs so I went up to investigate.
Upstairs, I saw my mom in the fridge yelling at my dad about the lack of cottage cheese. COTTAGE CHEESE! My father doesn't even eat cottage cheese (actually the only people who eat it in the whole world are my mom and my sister). She then, very angrily, put some yogurt in a bowl and tried to force feed said yogurt to my dad (who hates yogurt).
She was so angry she couldn't remember my sister's phone number to call her up and give her shit for cottage cheese that was apparently AWAL.
Luckily my father was able to quietly and discretely slip out of the house unscathed. I, however, was not so lucky and only managed to slink back into my basement hovel after listening to mom mumble and mutter and complain and swear about my sister and COTTAGE CHEESE(!).
Like I said, it's taken us a little while to get used to her night shifts, but we're learning to deal.
Today, while I was in my hovel being very quiet so that she got enough sleep, I heard people walking around upstairs so I went up to investigate.
Upstairs, I saw my mom in the fridge yelling at my dad about the lack of cottage cheese. COTTAGE CHEESE! My father doesn't even eat cottage cheese (actually the only people who eat it in the whole world are my mom and my sister). She then, very angrily, put some yogurt in a bowl and tried to force feed said yogurt to my dad (who hates yogurt).
She was so angry she couldn't remember my sister's phone number to call her up and give her shit for cottage cheese that was apparently AWAL.
Luckily my father was able to quietly and discretely slip out of the house unscathed. I, however, was not so lucky and only managed to slink back into my basement hovel after listening to mom mumble and mutter and complain and swear about my sister and COTTAGE CHEESE(!).
Like I said, it's taken us a little while to get used to her night shifts, but we're learning to deal.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
The Properties of Water
I've mentioned it before and right now I will take the time to reiterate this fact of Canadian living: Winter is freaking cold! Today it managed to get to -32C (That's about -21F) and with the wind chill, it went down to about -43C.
It's days like this when I think that I sleep through my alarm clock and miss my class on purpose. Subconsciously of course.
I spent the better part of my day in my room in the basement under about eight layers of clothes and blankets dutifully (and studiously too I guess) catching up on my class readings. And my blog readings. And my random internet readings. And an episode of Buffy.
Around noon my poor little brother- who was not gifted with the ability to forsee extreme cold and sleep through his alarm thus skipping school and the need to go outside- came home for lunch looking very much like the Michelin Man. Two grilled cheese sandwiches later, the kid was curled up with a blanket complaining he was too sick to go back to school. I, being the sister who is nine years older, clearly saw through this line of bull shit and began the long process of getting him back outside. [a touques, a balaclava, scarf, jacket, ski pants, 2 pairs of gloves, hood, and finally boots]
And then I went back to my books and my computer. Hypocrite, I know.
Later, at around 8:30 (after dinner, having to leave the warmth of my home to go to an appointment that didn't exist, birthday cake for my Opa, and roughly 37 cups of tea/cocoa/coffee/anything warm), my sister entered into my hovel in the basement to do some laundry.
Yes, my bedroom is ALSO the laundry room.
Unfortunately, the cold water would not run. After checking all the other faucets in the house we were able to conclude, with certainty, that the water pipe had froze solid. This was actually a bit ironic because not two hours earlier two fire trucks parked their big yellow selves on my front street to deal with a burst frozen pipe that had flooded our neighbour's entire basement.
Because my sister had already poured laundry detergent over her clothes and because i didn't really like the idea of waking up to freezing water around my ankles, I grabbed the hair dryer and began what would turn out to be a two hour long process of warming up and thawing the pipes through the drywall.
Of course, when it finally DID thaw out completely the water jetted out of the spout in huge freezing torrents right directly into me and my sister. This was actually kinda funny because my dad sauntered down to help only when he heard our shouts of "SHIT SHIT SHIT!! help SHIT SHIT help help SHIT!!". He wanted me to call him when the water started to show signs of actually moving rather than sticking around and keeping us company while we PREVENTED A DISASTER!!
Although, I now feel much handier after the experience...
It's days like this when I think that I sleep through my alarm clock and miss my class on purpose. Subconsciously of course.
I spent the better part of my day in my room in the basement under about eight layers of clothes and blankets dutifully (and studiously too I guess) catching up on my class readings. And my blog readings. And my random internet readings. And an episode of Buffy.
Around noon my poor little brother- who was not gifted with the ability to forsee extreme cold and sleep through his alarm thus skipping school and the need to go outside- came home for lunch looking very much like the Michelin Man. Two grilled cheese sandwiches later, the kid was curled up with a blanket complaining he was too sick to go back to school. I, being the sister who is nine years older, clearly saw through this line of bull shit and began the long process of getting him back outside. [a touques, a balaclava, scarf, jacket, ski pants, 2 pairs of gloves, hood, and finally boots]
And then I went back to my books and my computer. Hypocrite, I know.
Later, at around 8:30 (after dinner, having to leave the warmth of my home to go to an appointment that didn't exist, birthday cake for my Opa, and roughly 37 cups of tea/cocoa/coffee/anything warm), my sister entered into my hovel in the basement to do some laundry.
Yes, my bedroom is ALSO the laundry room.
Unfortunately, the cold water would not run. After checking all the other faucets in the house we were able to conclude, with certainty, that the water pipe had froze solid. This was actually a bit ironic because not two hours earlier two fire trucks parked their big yellow selves on my front street to deal with a burst frozen pipe that had flooded our neighbour's entire basement.
Because my sister had already poured laundry detergent over her clothes and because i didn't really like the idea of waking up to freezing water around my ankles, I grabbed the hair dryer and began what would turn out to be a two hour long process of warming up and thawing the pipes through the drywall.
Of course, when it finally DID thaw out completely the water jetted out of the spout in huge freezing torrents right directly into me and my sister. This was actually kinda funny because my dad sauntered down to help only when he heard our shouts of "SHIT SHIT SHIT!! help SHIT SHIT help help SHIT!!". He wanted me to call him when the water started to show signs of actually moving rather than sticking around and keeping us company while we PREVENTED A DISASTER!!
Although, I now feel much handier after the experience...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
check marks
I don't know if it's just me, but it's kind of stunning when you look and realize that you only need four more classes to graduate from university. When you see that you have far more check marks than "x"'s, it feels a little bit strange, like I should feel more complete or something... hmmm.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
Stewie
My grandmother's cat eats eggs at the kitchen table.
He prefers them sunny-side up,
And on a plate of equal size to the rest of the plates at the table.
This is the same cat that will only drink distilled water out of a martini glass.
Grandma says he can tell the difference.
I say that sometimes I wish I was a cat.
He prefers them sunny-side up,
And on a plate of equal size to the rest of the plates at the table.
This is the same cat that will only drink distilled water out of a martini glass.
Grandma says he can tell the difference.
I say that sometimes I wish I was a cat.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
i am
I am
the sum of my inadequacies.
I am
awkward only when I have to be the person you think I am or should be.
I am
every damien rice, iron and wine, deathcab for cutie, and modest mouse song on my iPod.
I am
only as good as the stories I tell.
I am
the impossibly perfect thing that you can't see in yourself.
I am
not you.
I am
not what you think I am.
I am
me.
the sum of my inadequacies.
I am
awkward only when I have to be the person you think I am or should be.
I am
every damien rice, iron and wine, deathcab for cutie, and modest mouse song on my iPod.
I am
only as good as the stories I tell.
I am
the impossibly perfect thing that you can't see in yourself.
I am
not you.
I am
not what you think I am.
I am
me.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
before I sleep
Before I sleep my brain goes running
running round round round
in circles through my head.
I can barely follow it,
but I know that it makes sense. Thinking
theories, philosophies, thesis,
biology, poetry, psychology
me and or with for everyone else.
Every night it's the same
and every morning I wake up
and I can't remember what I thought about
that seemed so terribly important
so brilliant
so perfect the night before.
Were these thoughts I had actually mine,
or were they just the amalgamation of everything I absorbed in one day?
I can't help but think,
if I had these thoughts during the day
(or could at least remember them come the next morning)
I might be a little bit more satisfied with my life
thus far.
Or maybe I should try sheep.
running round round round
in circles through my head.
I can barely follow it,
but I know that it makes sense. Thinking
theories, philosophies, thesis,
biology, poetry, psychology
me and or with for everyone else.
Every night it's the same
and every morning I wake up
and I can't remember what I thought about
that seemed so terribly important
so brilliant
so perfect the night before.
Were these thoughts I had actually mine,
or were they just the amalgamation of everything I absorbed in one day?
I can't help but think,
if I had these thoughts during the day
(or could at least remember them come the next morning)
I might be a little bit more satisfied with my life
thus far.
Or maybe I should try sheep.
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