First off, my long absence is not because I don’t care about my (mostly imaginary) readers. No really! I just haven’t had internet access in my house since May. So without further ado, I’d like to present the great update of what the hell I’ve been up to since then.
I spent the summer in a little town called Carmacks, way up north in the Yukon. I’m from Whitehorse, the capital of the Yukon, so it’s normal for me to return for the summers. However, Carmacks is a whole different world. The Yukon can basically be divided up into two sections: Whitehorse, and the communities. Whitehorse is a reasonable approximation of a city. It has its own peculiarities, but it has some 24,000 people and a decent airport, so it remains connected to the Outside. (for my non-Yukon readers, Outside is the local term for anywhere that’s not the Yukon. See previous caveat about peculiarities.) The communities are very different from Whitehorse. The largest is Dawson City, with about 1200 year-round residents. After that there’s a handfull of little towns scattered through the wilderness with a couple of hundred people each. Carmacks is one of those little towns about three hours north of Whitehorse if you’re driving anything close to the speed limit, which most people don’t unless they get stuck behind the great lumbering bulk of an RV.
Carmacks has a store, two gas stations, three restaurants, a bridge, a nursing station, a swimming pool, a police station, a school, an airstrip and a fire centre. I was the summer student at the fire centre, which resulted in some pretty cool experiences, as well as some I hope to never have to repeat. I got to fly around in helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft, spend time in the two district lookout towers and drink beer/go fishing with my boss. I also had to chase bats around my house with a broom in the middle of the night though, so I think it evens out. As the winter gets longer and colder, I’ll no doubt start getting nostalgic about the summer so you’ll get to read actual stories, but right now I have other things on my mind.
Over the course of the summer I came to the conclusion that if I didn’t go after my pilot’s license right now and with great determination I was never going to get it. Life would get in the way, as it usually does, and flying would remain an unfulfilled dream. This freaked me out badly enough that I have since scrapped my plans to go back to school this fall and instead am scheduled to start flight training next week. When I moved out I swore I was gone forever, which just goes to show you should never make grand sweeping declarations like that, because I now find myself living with my mom again for financial reasons. Flight training ain’t cheap, and she also happens to live just up the hill from the airport. I am desperately in need of a job, the acquisition of which is my project for tomorrow. I’ll let you know how that goes.
That’s pretty much the quick and dirty version of what’s going on in my life right now. I plan to return to semi-regular updates now that I have net access again, so stay tuned for tales of flying adventures and random bitching about whatever happens to be irritating me at the moment.
-Svea
In the end, Giacomo Casanova was a librarian.
*wink*
This lady:
http://www.xanga.com/queenie
makes me grin with every entry she posts. Gets in a surprising
amount of questionable innuendo for a blog so incredibly
adorable!
Hooray for me, I got into the program I want for the fall at Langara. So sayeth the website, anyways, and I’m sure there will be paper confirmation shortly.
Tonight I found myself a passenger on the freeway at night
And remembered what it felt like when I was little,
When the patterns of lights slid by in their dance
And I felt like I was floating at a great pace
On a raft down a mighty river
Utterly at peace.
Nowadays I know what driving on the freeway at night is like
So it’s not as comfortable as when I was little.
Now I know what it feels like to be in an accident
Coming off of the freeway at night
That moment when your heart stops
Just after you realize you’ve got to slam on the breaks
Cause that car’s not going to make it.
At least I hit the bumper, not the side.
I still remember quaking, reeling, sobbing in the driver’s seat
Parked on the side of the road with nothing in my eyes but fragments of colour
With the world transformed into a terrifying, inescapable mass of strobelights
Assault on the senses from every direction
Discovering I’m still alive.
So you all don’t all think I’ve just been sitting on my ass all
semester, here’s a link to a gallery with some of what I’ve been
working on.
http://korellyn.deviantart.com/
And please be nice, I’m just learning.
The Linguistics Student Union, of which I am a part primarily for the
use of the common room, has a blackboard in the aforementioned common
room which is used for random bits of linguistics humour in lieu of
graffitti. Currently it contains design ideas for LSU t-shirts,
which only go to show what incredible dorks we are. Some of the
better ones include:
WWND (what would Noam (Chomsky) do) inside the stylized Christain fish.
Linguistics: serious affecting my ability to talk english good.
Pro-drop it like it’s hot!
I may be a cunning linguist, but don’t ask me about labial spreading!
And
most memorable piece of information in my English lecture this
afternoon: Charles Darwin married his cousin. How perfect is that?
Yes, this is the education I’m paying the big bucks for. Go figure.
So here’s what you do.
Go buy a nice set of pencil crayons. Not the cheap crap you got
for school in grade three, but the nice ones from the stationary/art
supply store.
Read the name of one. Sharpen it (use one of the good solid metal
hand sharpeners. Be careful not to go too sharp or the lead will
fall out.). While sharpening, free-associate with the name.
Just follow the chain of images. When it’s sharp, try and
transcribe the images, using that colour to write.
Rinse, repeat.
When you’re done, you’ll have a set of rainbow-coloured creative prompts.
I came out with the seed ideas of at least two poems, a short story and
a couple of drawings, and that’s without even delving into most of them.
Let your mind play.
Entertainment courtesy of my friend Angela.
“Well, as far as actual usefulness, Canada’s probably got one of the best-trained armies in the world.”
“Yeah, it’s just not very big.”
“True, but I mean, in international competitions, our snipers routinely wipe the world’s ass!”
*pause*
*giggle*
“Y’know, I really don’t think I’d like to wipe the world’s ass. Actually, it sounds rather degrading and gross to me!”
“Okay, okay, poor choice of words. What I mean is…”
“No, no, it makes perfect sense if you think about it. What’s
peace-keeping after all? Cleaning up everybody else’s shit!”
“What, you want Canada to have that image?”
“Sure! Why not?”
New slogan:
Canada: Wiping the world’s ass, one sniper at a time!
Why so bitter?
Went to sleep at 5am.
Got up at 7:30am to make it to Royal Columbian Hospital for 8:45 appointment.
Went to school, curled up on un-comfy couch in the Ling Student Union
common room until 11:30 when was interrupted by group of giggly girls
chattering about their boyfriends and valentine’s day. *gag*
Got coffee, headed to 12:30 english class, only to find a “cancelled” sign on the door. That was my only class today.
Came home, intend to take nap.
Sweet dreams.
Some kinder casuists are pleased to say
In nameless print - that I have no devotion;
But set those persons down with me to pray,
And you shall see who has the properest notion
Of getting into Heaven the shortest way;
My altars are the mountains and the ocean,
Earth, air, stars - all that springs from the great Whole,
Who hath produced, and will recieve the soul.
-Lord Byron, Don Juan, III.104
Unfortunately he was also an inconsiderate, arrogant dick. Pity that.
Mean cold claws
Up your back,
Suddenly.
They clamp over your mouth and eyes,
Drag you flailing
Off into the dark unknown.
Can’t you see the rims of their narrowed eyes,
That glow
Out there in the fog?
Gemini moment of the day: in the interest of my own mental
health, I’ve decided I’m not allowed to have more than 5 books going at
a time (school books & how-to books I’m actually working through
don’t count). Current list:
Drawing Down the Moon by Margot Adler. Because every article I’ve
ever read on Paganism cites it and it’s really interesting, dry
academic style notwithstanding.
Complexity by M. Mitchell Waldrop. Recommended by one of the few
interesting people in my phonology class. Sucked me in from page
one, and almost gives me hope for academia. Soon as I’m finished
I plan to go looking for something more recent on the subject.
Art Fundamentals: Theory & Practice by Ocvirk, Bone, Stinson &
Wigg. Yes, I am reading an art textbook. I’m learning a lot.
The Old Man & The Sea by Hemingway. Because I’ve never read
it and should. I’ve just barely started it. Plan not to
rush it at all on the advice of my elsest brother.
Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. Because Mom gave it to me and I
want to be able to truthfully say that I read it. It’s another
I’ve just barely started.
Hand surgery (aka mercury/pluto, which are currently forming a sextile)
went as well as can be reasonably expected. Hurts like a bitch
but given that they took a chunk out of my bone, there’s not really any
avoiding that. Despite the fact that I can barely write and
am typing with just my left hand, I feel really good about having had
this done. It will heal. Many thanks to all of you who had
me in your thoughts/prayers/etc.
I emailed the director of the Library Tech program to ask if the fall 2007 session is already full. Apparently there’s still lots of space. Yay! Application is in, letters of reference & official transcripts are en route. Now I just have to hang out and wait til they start scheduling interviews.
And I now have a time for my surgery. 1pm Monday afternoon. Deep breath & lots of faith.
“Religious misery is at once the expression of real misery and a
protest against that misery. Religion is the sigh of the hard
pressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, the spirit of
unspiritual conditions. It is the opium of the people.”
-Karl Marx
Rather different from the context most of us first heard it in, hrm?
In other news:
1) Wrist surgery is on Monday. Please send good thoughts, pray,
cast a spell, implore the divine however you prefer. I cannot
even begin to describe how fervently I hope that this works.
2) I’ve decided that this is my last semester at SFU. I’ve
applied to the Library Tech 2-year diploma program at Langara College,
so as to set myself up with a half-decent income and a job might even
rather like while I go about learning pottery and setting up a ceramics
studio.
This is less out of the blue than you might think. I’ve been
trying to find some way to justify leaving university since
mid-September, but only in light of my upcoming surgery has this become
possible. I did some pottery work in high school and absolutely
loved it, but knew my wrists would not be able to take the work for
very long, so the possibility of going into ceramics got written off
immediately as impossible. But if my wrists are no longer an
issue… well, that changes things.
3) On account of this, I’ve dropped my shittiest class (I was only
taking it because it was a requirement anyhow) and so now am only
taking three classes this semester (just enough to retain “full time” status). Finally, I have time to
pursue other interests.
This has all been building and building for ages, but within the last
week it has crystallized. My life is now headed an entirely
different direction than it was a few days ago.
I feel an incredible sense of relief, tempered by worry about the
surgery and whether or not I can still get into the program at
Langara. There’s a possibility that it might already be full,
although I doubt it.
The past few months have been very very dark for me. I think I may finally be starting to see a gleam of hope.
Much as I would dearly love to spend next near in Quebec City, I don’t
think I’m going to. I was poking around the Laval University
website the other day and found a semester-long french intensive
program that I could do the spring after I graduate, and which
ultimately makes more sense for me. It would mean I’d already
have my degree, I wouldn’t have to worry about the grand rigamarole of
trying to get transfer credit, and if I discover that I like Quebec
City as much as I think I do, I can just stay there afterwards.
There’s work there for ESL teachers, I’m sure. It would also mean
that I can develop friendships/relationships here without that nagging
voice in my head telling me there’s no point because I’m leaving soon
anyways. Staying would mean I can plow through my linguistics
work without losing momentum or having time to forget all the basic
stuff I’ve learned that you do actually need for upper-division stuff,
and then when I’m done I just don’t have to worry about that any more
at all. It would mean I could get my degree and get the hell out
of Dodge before the Olympics come to town, which for me is definitely
an upside cause this city’s going to be completely insane during
that.
The downside is basically that I’ll have to wait and keep plugging away
at my work here, but that’s not the end of the world.
Oh, and one more big upside is that I can get a place with my friend
Angela again. We lived together last year and did very
well. This year we got separate places, which have been ok, but
we’d both prefer to move back in together. We’re both weird, but
as she put it, they’re very complimentary forms of weirdness, and we
don’t get on each other’s nerves much at all. This time we’re
each getting our own bedroom though! Last year we shared a very
large room, but it was still only one room, and we had enough of that
the first time `round.
With any luck we’ll be able to drag one of our friends from Whitehorse
down to the dark side as well. He needs a kick in the butt to get
moving sometimes, but it’s really about time he got out on his
own. Angel & I both tend to mother the boy in question, and
he doesn’t seem to mind, so living with us might be a good transition
from living at his parents, and not quite as scary as getting kicked
out on the curb all by himself.
So yeah. Probably no Quebec next year. The idea’s not given up - just put on hold til after I graduate.
Oh, this will also give me a little more room to maneuver in terms of
academic scheduling, which at SFU is very important. The most
common complaint I hear about the place is the difficulty of getting
the classes you need/want, and it’s not a matter of exaggeration
either. Getting a late enrollment date is quite possibly the
worst thing that can happen to you there, and nobody really knows how
they get assigned. Supposedly high marks & seniority will
help, but not always. Personally I suspect it’s mostly
random. Not to mention that most of the classes you want will not
be offered when you can actually take them, or only offered every four
years, or some such foolishness. Word of advice: do required
courses absolutely as soon as possible even if the schedule sucks,
because the schedule will always suck, and at least that way you get
them. Then be prepared to take sucky electives if
necessary. You know all those interesting classes you see in the
catalogue that you’d just love to take? Accept the fact that you
will never get to take most of them. At least not if you want to
finish your degree in something approaching a reasonable
timeframe.
The longer I’m here, the more I detest academia.
In 2002, SFU found itself in the middle of a big ugly scandal about
cheating. The most visible result of this is that the school has
since implemented very strict policies regarding plagiarism, with
consequences that range from failing a class to getting kicked out of
the school. At the beginning of every semester, every prof in
every class gives an outline of what is considered plagiarism, how to
avoid it, and what the penalties are. I sat through three
plagiarism lectures yesterday. Fine, good, ok, plagiarism =
bad. We get it.
There must have been a number of “incidents” last semester though,
cause we’re getting beat over the head about it more than usual this
semester. All the syllabi (I think that’s the plural of syllabus,
but don’t know) included a section on it, and the introductory lectures
on the subject were longer and more intense than they have been in the
past. In one of my classes, there is now a requirement that we
include a handwritten certification on the cover sheet of each paper
which states the following:
I certify that I understand that academic honesty is a cornerstone of
the development and acquisition of knowledge and that academic honesty
is a condition of continued membership in the university
community. I also certify that I understand the nature of forms
of academic dishonesty. In particular, I understand that
plagiarism is a form of academic dishonesty in which an individual
submits or presents the work of another person as his or her own.
I understand that the penalties imposed by Simon Fraser University for
academic dishonesty may include but are not limited to one or more of
the following: a warning, a verbal or written reprimand, reassessment
of work, failure on a particular assignment, failure in a course,
denial of admission or readmission to the University, deregistration,
forfeiture of University awards or financial assistance, suspension or
permanent suspension from the University or revocation of a degree.
When I have used excerpts from another author
in this assignment (words, phrases, or sentences), I have used
quotation marks and citations with page numbers to indicate the source
of these words. When I have referred to the ideas of another
author, but expressed them using my own words, I have provided
citations. My citations and reference list are complete and
correct. I have correctly used the format from ____ style sheet
for my citations, quotations, and references.
signature, date.
That class also requires that we include two photocopied pages from
each of the references we use, preferably parts that we actually used
in the paper.
This strikes me as overkill, not to mention a huge waste of paper,
particularly in a 300-level course. By the time a student reaches
that level, they’ve been through the plagiarism lecture at least 15
times, and probably more. We get it. For legal reasons I
realize the profs have to give notice, but at this point a brief
statement of the Academic Honesty policy would suffice. It really
would. Now can we please just get down to the business of getting
through the course?
Over Christmas, I got used to having free time. Silly me.
Now school’s started, and it’s back to sitting at my desk reading
articles that range from boring to, as Gordon Korman so appropriately
said, interesting in a boring sort of way.
It’s all good though. This semester should be much better than
last. My Linguistic Argumentation class is going to be so much
work that just looking at the syllabus is kind of disheartening, but at
least it’s the sort that will pay off. My other three classes
will be work, but not so much that they’re frightening.
The most notable recent development in my life is that on January 29th
I will be having surgery done on my right wrist, hopefully correcting
the painful problems I’ve been having with it since I was 13. If
it works, I plan to do the other wrist shortly thereafter.
See, over the break I finally got in to see a specialist about this,
and it took him all of 5 minutes and a glance at the x-ray to be pretty
much certain what’s wrong. Apparently one of the bones in my
forearm is 3 or 4 mm longer than it’s supposed to be, and has been
tearing up the ligaments & tendons & things, so he’s going to
take a wedge out of the bone to shorten it. This is common enough
that he sees it on something approaching a regular basis. So all
of a sudden I found myself signing things and being given instructions
about making sure I have somebody to take me home afterwards.
On the way home from the appointment I sat on the bus in a daze, crying
from relief and the frustration that I’ve been seeing doctors about
this for 7 years, and only now has somebody actually been able to tell
me what they hell is going on. I have been given a wide range of
painkillers, worn a splint, been sent to physiotherapy, massage
therapy, acupuncture and pretty much anything else you can think of,
but not once before this has there been a definitive “this is what’s
wrong, here’s what you do to fix it.” Every semester I barely
make it through exams because of this. I had resigned myself to
the idea that this was just going to keep getting worse until I
eventually couldn’t write or type or knit or anything anymore, and now
to find out that there’s a very good possibility that this can be
fixed… well… it floored me.
Mom’s coming down again for it. I know it’s an
inconvenience and I don’t think it’s really necessary as such, but I
think she’d like to be here cause she offered right away, and I’d like
to have her here. For all that we don’t get along a lot of the
time, she’s still my mom, and she still looks after me sometimes.
I’ve never had surgery for anything before, and while I’m not that
freaked out about it, I’d still just like to have my mom there.
I also know I should probably not be having this done during the middle
of the semester cause it’s going to take a while to heal, but I want it
done as soon as possible. I’ve been dealing with this for so long
that I refuse to wait. I’ll find some way to make it
through. I just want this to be finished. And now there’s
the possibility that it actually will be!
The following sentence showed up in my journal this afternoon:
You cannot hope to transcend that which you do not know intimately.
I’m not entirely certain what I think of it, except that it may merit future pondering.
Thoughts?
Because, as we all know, I am a nothing short of a total geek, tonight
I decided to browse through my next semester’s textbooks to see what I
was in for. I started with Ling 301: Linguistic Argumentation,
because if ever the name of a class sounded like me, that one’s
it. It’s got a fairly slim piece of custom courseware, but you
can’t tell anything about a CC book by just looking at it.
They’re all identical on the outside, and contain whatever the prof is
going to make you read. A quick examination of the table of
contents can often tell you a great deal about your profs interests and
what the class is going to be about. Upon reading approximately
two paragraphs of the first article in my Ling 301 CC, I found myself
a) fascinated and b) WAY out of my depth!
This is a very good sign for me. When I know exactly what’s going
on all the time I get bored. But likewise, if something’s really
complicated and I don’t care about it either, I get bored. For a
class to keep my interest, it’s got to be both interesting and
challenging, and this one looks to be both. Plus I met the prof
when I did my interview for entrance into the Teaching ESL (TESL)
Certificate program, and I think he’d be a good lecturer.
Drastically in need of a new hairstyle (long, stringy, greased back =
BAD!), but smart and actually interested in teaching. I suspect
he’s got very high expectations as well. Based on this I surmise
that his class is going to involve a lot of work and actually having to
figure stuff out rather than just writing down the answers. This
is the sort of environment in which I absolutely thrive. I’ll no
doubt bitch about the work, but when the material is interesting &
relevent, and I respect the prof, I don’t have such a problem putting
in the work.
My Ling 360 (Linguistics & Language Teaching) prof is the same one
I had for Ling 200 (Intro Description of English Grammar) last
spring. Yes, I actually took that class voluntarily, and rather
enjoyed it, thank you very much. That mostly had to do with the
fact that the prof was highly organized & knowledgable, able to
communicate ideas clearly, patient, and also expected you to do a lot
of work. This was ok though, because if you actually did the
optional work, you would do just fine on the exams without having to
cram. That’s a trade-off I can deal with. I just get pissed
when I have to do lots of work that serves no purpose other than giving
the prof something to base the marks on. If I’m going to do
homework, I’d bloody well better actually be learning something.
I’m going into the second semester of my second year, and I’m very
excited that I’m finally getting to do upper division (300+ level)
courses. It seems like I’ve spent forever going over the same rudiments
and I’d really like to move on now. Those are the only two
UD courses I’m doing next semester, and I’m very much looking forward
to them both. The professor often makes or breaks a class, so I’m
glad to know neither of my two much-anticipated upper division classes
runs much risk of being ruined by a crappy prof.
My Engl 203 (Early Modern Lit) prof has no face yet. I know that
he’s the first male English professor I’ll have encountered at
SFU. Given the SFU English department’s predilection for
discussions of gender bias & sexuality, I’m curious to see how he
approaches his work. On account of the curriculum, there’s really
no escaping Shakespeare in that class, but I’m encouraged that the prof
chose Hamlet. That play contains a lot of very dark humour, which
is something I enjoy in an English prof, not least because I’ve got a
definite streak of it myself. Being raised by a nurse will do
that to you. And I hear the guy really gets into his
Shakespeare. I don’t care what they’re teaching, it’s good when a
prof is enthusiastic about his subject, so I guess if we’re going to do
early modern lit, we may as well really get into it. This class
was not my first choice, but Engl 207 (20th Century Lit) simply could
not be made to fit into my schedule, and I need one more 200-lvl
English class. I’m cautiously optimistic about this class.
And Ling 221 (Intro Phonology) is completely up in the air. The
website says prof: tbd, which means they haven’t found anybody
yet. If my experienes with Intro Ling and Intro Syntax are any
indication, it’ll wind up being a sessional instructor who needs the
work and doesn’t really know what the rest of the department thinks is
important, so you’ll wind up being taught kind of a hodgepodge, which
will tend to reflect whatever they’re working on at the moment. I
actually don’t mind this as much as you would think. In Intro
Ling my prof was a Newfie lady who resembled nothing so much as a stout
teapot, who specialized in signed languages. Learned all sorts of
bits and pieces. And then for Intro Syntax my prof was a young
oriental lady who made us analyze the Jabberwocky and told us random
linguistic facts about Klingon. I shit you not. Both
classes were jokes in terms of difficulty, but were quite interesting
nonetheless. If I get the same sort of thing for 221, I’ll be
happy.
I admit, I am constantly observing and assessing my professors, from
well before classes start to the very last time I see them. I
look for patterns and tendencies, signs of personality, interests,
character. All of these affect my attitude toward a class, and
how I approach assignments & studying. If I think the prof is
a jackass, I have a really hard time caring about what s/he’s got to
say. If my communications classes taught me nothing else, they at
least hammered home the importance of considering both the information,
and the medium through which it is transferred.