Punda Malidadi

2008-10-06T22:12:00.001-06:00

Putting the Carcass in Carcassonne

2006-12-24T15:58:00.000-07:00

What a strange point in life to be at- I want it to pass.

Und noch eine Nachricht für RALPH aka rabebl-ich finde deine andere Emailadresse nicht, und die Uni-Adresse geht nicht mehr. Bitte melde dich bei mir- catrin.berghoff*at*gmail.com, oder ruf mich bei meinen Eltern an falls du die Telefonnummer noch hast. Ich wuerde mich gerne mal wieder mit dir treffen.

The Olde Countrz

2006-12-11T00:49:00.000-07:00

Iäm going to go nuts with those screwed up kezboards here one daz.

Observations:

1. The German name of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?", "Wer wird Millionär?", translates to "Who will be Millionaire?". This is obviously better. I mean, what a retarded question- of course, everybody wants to be millionaire.

2. That same show is hosted by a very successful and smart serious journalist, Günter Jauch. He's a bit funny looking, with a mean sense of humour. When candidates don't know answers, he makes fun of them, especially if he thinks the question is easy. If he likes a candidate, he'll help that person quite openly. And if he thinks a candidate is boring, then he makes faces into the camera. No wonder that show still draws huge audiences! In short: German TV>North American TV.

3. There cigarette smoke. Everywhere. The day after I arrived, parliament tried to pass a federal smoking ban in all restaurants. A few days later, it was withdrawn- apparently, there were constitutional worries. You know, I tend to be of the very liberal sort when it comes to that sort of thing, but it still really sucks.

4. The horridly expensive internet is running out. More later.

You've crossed a line there, Garth Turner.

2006-11-14T19:52:00.000-07:00

Who the fuck told you it was ok to come on to my boyfriend in such a shameless manner?

It's on.

Shocking Revelations About Irwin's REAL Cause of Death!

2006-11-03T10:49:00.000-07:00

Yep. T'was the mummy.

Now I know what "MSc" stands for!

2006-10-30T20:57:00.000-07:00

Clearly, my graduate degree is preparing me for a career as an instant and packaged soup taste tester, as no one else alive could possibly be eating as many of those as I do without getting paid for it.

Hence, Master of Soup Cuisine.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Oh, God, was that ever lame. I guess the only way I could possibly convince any of you to ever come back to this blog is to use my secret weapon.

So, here it is: very soon, on this very blog, you will be able to enjoy a homemade video of Astro Boy giving a lap dance to Little Red Riding Hood.

If that doesn't make you come back, well, then I don't want to know you any more.

I totally win.

2006-10-22T11:56:00.000-06:00

This is me, Samantha.

The Office

2006-10-18T15:09:00.000-06:00

My office, that is. I have started using that windowless cubicle in GSB 562 quite a bit in light of the sheer madness that is graduate school.

So, does anyone know about any plants that thrive in such conditions? Again: I have no window, and therefore no sunlight. I somehow have the feeling plant is greek for "all of us need sunlight", but there might be some sort of exception that has excaped my attention. After all, there is plenty of fluorescent light in here!

And please don't bother to suggest fake plants. That already *is* plan B.

Hmmm...wonder what they'd say if I got a betta fish?

Huh.

2006-09-27T18:12:00.000-06:00

I just noticed that I'm trying to catch up on a course I never took in order to keep up with another course I'm taking right now which is a prerequisite for another course I'm taking right now which is a prerequisite for the Master's I'm already doing.

That's just f***ing nuts.

"We'd give the devil a SSHRC grant if his dossier was good enough!"

2006-09-19T18:06:00.000-06:00

In considering applying for this grant, I have the uneasy feeling that I'm batting out of my league(oh, look, she's using a sports metaphor whose meaning she deduced without knowing anything about sports!).

In absolutely every quantifiable category, I am quite a bit below the average SSHRC winner. I'll probably apply anyway, though, because, oh well, why the f**k not?

PS: I saw a walking shark on the news. It was fantastic.

PPS: Why the heck do people pronounce "SSHRC" "shirk", when clearly, they have the option of pronouncing it "shark"? Stupid! Stupid!

Gather Round, Folks, and Let Me Tell You How Totally Inadequate Your Knowledge of Nutrition Is.

2006-09-11T17:40:00.000-06:00

Please rank the following menu items in order of descending calorific content.

BURGER KING:

(a) small chocolate shake
(b)chicken tenders(5 pieces)
(c) Bacon Double Cheeseburger

SUBWAY:

(a) 6-inch Tuna
(b) 6-inch Roast Beef
(c) 6-inch Roasted Chicken Breast

DUNKIN' DONUTS:

(a) Banana Walnut Muffin
(b) Boston Kreme Donut
(c) Plain Bagel with light cream cheese

TACO BELL:

(a) Taco Supreme
(b) Bean Burrito
(c) Nachos

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
...
and the answers are:

acb/acb/acb/bca

Didn't know all that, did you?

Way to Go!

2006-09-06T15:36:00.000-06:00

No, seriously: what a way to go. To have one's heart punctured by a stingray!

I'm not as enamoured with the crocodile man as others seemed to have been, but I am forced to award him "Coolest Death (ever)". Unequivocally, without question.

It's a freaking comic book death! Oh, man, somebody buy this idea off of me: Passionate marine conservationist ostensibly dies when a stingray punctures his heart, but wakes up with stingray super-powers. What are stingray super-powers, you ask? Well, I can't say that I know, but I have a feeling this has potential.

A friggin' stingray! Through the heart! Sharks? Pfft. Way too blue-collar.

He might not have wanted to die just then, but I'm sure he wanted to die just like that.

Aw, Fuck it.

2006-09-01T20:45:00.000-06:00

Now the other two damned amphibians croaked as well.

For no good reason, might I add.

Alright, for no discernible reason.

What did I do to deserve this?

I hate frogs.

R.I.P., Nash (Unluckiest Frog in Catrin's Aquarium History)

2006-08-25T12:28:00.000-06:00

I killed it. I'm not a murderess, but I'm definitely guilty of negligent frogslaughter. When I checked my aquarium this morning, all was well: Crosby, Stills and Nash were frolicking, and Young was hiding under a plastic plant doing his own thing.

Then, I went to a math refresher course, and it took me about 45 minutes to realize it was a waste of my time. Unfortunately, by the time I got home, it was too late: The froggy's legs were both stuck far up my filter intake, its white belly frivolously exposed to whoever cared to look. Not being able to free himself and go to the surface to breathe, he had drowned while some mumbling instructor with bad handwriting tried to explain multivariable calculus in 7 minutes to me(and failed).

And the worst thing is, I was warned this could happen, and didn't do what was suggested to prevent it.

A frog butcher is what I am, and I understand if y'all can't be my friends any more.

Things I Did, Things I'm Done, Things I'm Doing

2006-08-22T12:54:00.000-06:00

Scuba Diving:

I am now an open-water certified scubadiver. I spent a weekend in July in Strathcona Pool and the Northwest Scuba classroom and last weekend in refreshing Lakes Edith and Annette in Jasper. Wearing 14 mm of neoprene on my core and 7mm overywhere else, including a hood, gloves, and boots, I dived down 42 feet. The lakes have a silt bottom, and when there's 19 inexperienced divers in one who have no idea in hell how to deal with their buoyancy and who keep stirring up the bottom, the water gets quite murky. At times, the only thing I could see was my instructor's neon yellow tank. Also, there's not much to see in the first place in these lakes. Actually, there is as good as nothing to see- A few fairly large-sized(around 12 inches or so) sand-colored suckerfish, and a few schools of inch-long, also sand-colored fish. Now, I'm hoping to go to Mexico to do my Advanced Open Water Certification there, and, you know, to actually see some underwater life.

Bachelor of Arts:

I am done. I wrote my last exam on Friday. I shall be convocating in November, when I'm already a Master's of Science student(thesis-based) of Resource Economics in the Department of Rural Economy.

Bear-sighting:

Yes, I saw a bear. Actually, I saw three bears: A female black bear with two cubs. It was my first real trip to the mountains. The bears appeared on the side of Maligne Road between Medicine Lake and Maligne Lake.

Other things I'm doing:

Sitting at the airport greeting new international students, doing research, trying to write more plays, sporadically attending a math refresher course, reading, and trying to catch a few plays at the fringe.

Sorry, You Are Not Old Enough to Enter This Site

2006-08-17T13:10:00.000-06:00

Huh?

First of all, this is the site of a General Audience-rated TV show.

Secondly, I am 25 years old.

And thirdly, I entered my birthdate as March 2, 1932.

Go figure.

Madlibs for President!

2006-08-13T18:08:00.000-06:00

I love Madlibs. Sometimes I laugh so hard I stop breathing for a little bit.

Here's what I've learned about American politics and America in general by doing Madlibs. Check it out- I bet you'll learn something.

When George Washington was a wooden boy, he took his bathtub and chopped down his father's cucumber tree.
One of the many bras the American president wears is that of the diplomat.
The Government is of the people, for the people, and by the fish.
Campaign speeches sound something like this: "I want to warn you against my crumbly opponent, Mr. Steve. This man is nothing but a fruity potato."
If you want to hold a good public speech, you must organize all your pigs feet on a piece of toilet seat and keep a pitcher of urine handy in case your spine goes dry.
Abraham Lincoln preserved the foreskin and Thomas Jefferson is the author of the Declaration of Circumcision.
Many curvaceous citizens observe Independence Horse by hanging their whore out a window or running it up an ineffecive pole.
Favourite American foods are apple ninja and corn on the misconception.
Patrick Henry said, "Give me liberty or give me watermelon."
On voting day, you might have to show your bush to prove your identity. Then, you may place an A in a small jockstrap opposite your candidate's snorkel.
It is unlawful to own a weasel or carry a concealed weasel without a weasel license.
The legislative branch consists of congress and the senate, who decide which monkeys are passed into canisters. Their decisions can be vetoed by the accountant.
Harry Truman's nickname was "Giv'em Hooker Harry".
Dick Nixon is famous for saying "I am not a rearview mirror!"

I bet you didn't know all of that!

[On a side note, I played Poker against 8 other players all male and more experienced than me, bought in for twenty, and cashed out at 79.75.]

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Honey, You Don't Know Me From a Hole in the Wall

2006-08-05T21:43:00.000-06:00

Which is why you've tagged me to fill out a survey about sports.

Anyways, here goes:

1. Have you ever been in a fantasy league?

Have I? Ha! I am currently tied for first place in the University of Alberta's Fantasy Students' Council League. Council's not a sport, you say? Clearly, you've never been there. Go have someone tell you the Indian leg-wrestling story.

2. What was the first jersey you ever owned?

Uh...I might have dated someone once who owned a jersey. Wait...define 'jersey'. And 'dating'. And while you're at it, define 'sex'- it might come in handy some time.

3. Top 5 sports books

Gone With the Wind, for the daring horseback riding
Nineteen Eighty-four, for the idyllic cross-country hiking
The Lord of the Flies, for the enthralling wrestling sequences
Sphere, for the deep-diving scenes
and last, but certainly not least,
Tender Viking of My Heart for the dashing sword-fighting. Damned Saxons.

4. 10 favorite athletes

that really short guy who used to play for the Charlotte Hornets in the early- to mid-nineties
the coach of the Croatian national soccer team
Rocky
Forrest Gump.

That's right, I got nothing.

5. Three Athletes I secretly admire but am ashamed to admit it for fear of ridicule

Shame is not a factor, and ridicule is what I do to others.

Still, I got nothing.

6. The 5 people I tag are:

Paul Wells, Joacqin Phoenix, Angela Merkel, Dan Brown, and Aaron Sorkin. Go!

Luck be a Lady- Zuerst haben wir kein Glueck, und dann kommt auch noch Pech dazu.

2006-07-17T12:46:00.000-06:00

I have had the worst string of petty bad luck in a long time. I mean, none of the things that happened to me are actually really bad, and I fell a bit silly complaining about trivial happenings like that, but they really add up after a while.

In the last week, I have:

bought a new food processor and broke a tiny but essential part off the first time I assembled it.
baked a pecan-mango-yoghurt torte and then dropped a plate into it.
found an aquarium in the basement, decided to fill it with fish, made a trek to the pet store to buy some equipment, and then broke the aquarium.
bummed a ride to buy a new aquarium because I'd been really looking forward to the fish, forgot to buy gravel, and therefore couldn't fill it.
went to buy gravel, filled the aquarium, and broke the thermometer, which means I'll have made 5 trips to the pet store by the time I have fish in that tank.
plugged the bath tub with aquarium gravel when I filled the aquarium- the plumber is upstairs as I write this.

I also fully expect that plumber to die in my bathtub. He is probably 80 years old("We've been using him for years!", my landlord says proudly), he caughed up something big while I talked to him on the phone, and let me tell you, he really made use of that hand rail when he walked up the stairs.

But man, if I believed in things evening out, I'd be out buying a lottery ticket right now. As it stands, though, I'm staying inside, and out of busses' ways.

The Wall of Worms

2006-06-06T13:30:00.000-06:00

Today, while cycling through the city along river valley paths and the like, Greg and I got caught in a horrifying wall of worms. Literally dozens of little wormy-looking caterpillar-like creatures were dangling by their own silvery threads from tree branches. Some seemed to be roping off with neckbreaking speed, and it only took them a second or two from the tree branch to the ground. Others were just dangling merrily in the wind (had they run out of thread? What's a worm to do in such a situation?). And it wasn't just one wall- we were soon to learn that there is a whole area on the downtown side of the river that is literally covered in worms these days. You can't even imagine the horror of cycling very, very carefully only to suddenly notice that there is a wall of worms ahead and you don't have enough time to stop!

Don't get me wrong, I like caterpillars. They're kind of cute. At least the thick, large, furry kind that move slowly. But these ones were about as thick as knitting yarn and amazingly agile. We had to pick them off one another, and even 20 minutes later when I took off my jacket one of them fell out.

God, was I grossed out. And I'm not ashamed of my screams. But man, if I were a Klingon...

So, does anyone know what the heck is going on with these creatures, and what they are? Neither Greg nor I had ever seen anything like this before. Are they an infestation? I really want them to be. It took me long enough to accept that spiders are a good thing.

I'm lying here, as good as naked, and someone gets paid to pull on my earlobes.

2006-06-02T16:11:00.000-06:00

As you might have guessed(or not- in fact, it's funnier that way), I just got the first massage of my life. It was an hour-long full body massage. It felt good, and it hurt, and now, afterward, I feel like nothing in the world could ever go wrong again. In fact, I think I'm a little bit high.

Nobel Prize 2016

2006-06-01T12:43:00.000-06:00

I just realized that I myself am nothing short of a genius. A bit taken aback by the success of Jake, Steve and Dan with their novel-writing endeavours, I reminded myself that I wrote a one-act play last year, and reread it.

Why, it's ingenious! It's funny, and it's sexy, and it's smart. And those aren't even my own words- those are the words of Governor-General Award winning playwright Vern Thiessen, under whose watch I wrote this play. In one of our one-on-one sessions, the following conversation ensued:

Vern(in disbelief): "You know, you really have a great sense of humour hidden under your....(searching for words)
Me: "...teutonic exterior?"
Vern: "Yes, that's it."
Me: "I get that a lot."

My play, in case you were wondering, is about the passage of a controversial bill in city council, and the mayhem that ensues as a result of it. There's sex, there's violence, and there are references to parliamentary procedure- I mean, what else do you want, really?

If this play doesn't get produced, the world is a worse place for it.

Italy! Oh, Italy!

2006-05-31T13:12:00.000-06:00

Why did I have to do a Google search about teaching English abroad? Oh, why? Now I want to go, and my Master's doesn't seem all that attractive to me anymore. I can go teach in Italy! In ITALY! Which most of you can't, because you usually have to be an EU citizen. I, can, go, teach, English, in, Italy! Or in Greece! Or in China!

Or...oh, boy, my head is spinning.

Well, I think I know what I'm doing *next* year. Does anyone know if it's a big deal to put a Master's on hold for a year right in the middle of it?

Nobel Prize 2040

2006-05-30T11:05:00.000-06:00

My niece is nothing short of a genius. She is now slightly short of 18 months old, but she has by far the hugest vocabulary of any of her playmates. She can say around 200 words, including most animals accompanied by the sounds they make. She repeats every word you ask her to repeat, and she gets most of them right. She can even say my name! Most other kids' vocabularies at her age are somewhere in the low double digits, and she has already started to form two word sentences. For example, today, when my sister Tina poured spaghetti sauce over the spaghetti, she pointed and said "Mommy sauce!"

Expect great things from her. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I went to Whyte Avenue to find my dignity.

2006-05-28T16:49:00.000-06:00

Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have any, especially not the guy who called me 'uptight' for ignoring his advances. You don't even know how good that felt after last Wednesday, Buddy!

I'd post some pictures, but I can't find the cable to go with my camera.

Have you ever come out of the shower...

2006-05-25T13:02:00.000-06:00

...and dried yourself off, only to discover that there suddenly seem to be two-inch-long black hairs growing on your chest?

No?

Well, I guess you don't have a shedding black cat that sleeps on your towels.

Have you seen my dignity? I lost it on Whyte Avenue somewhere.

2006-05-23T21:18:00.000-06:00

Yeah, that was bad. Luckily, it's now almost a week ago and I have recovered psychologically. So, screw all of you. Especially Roman, who ran into me, saw that I was so drunk that I thought people's phone numbers had 3 digits, and then left me to my misfortune. Way to go, Roman! The next day, though, he made up for that lapse in judgment by spreading the news about my drunken escapades fast among anybody who knew me. And no, I'm not on bluemile.ca- not even on somebody's cell phone camera.

On the upside, I totally improvised my storytelling assignment in my Drama class today and I think I did well. Who could have known that you can cut 75% out of the middle of a fairy tale and it *still* makes sense?

Also, my Chinese Zodiac sign- the Rooster- says that I always think I'm right, and that I usually am, which can cause problems in relationships.

They should have told me that 4 boyfriends ago!

Life To Do-List

2006-05-08T15:27:00.000-06:00

As some of you might already know, I'm having something of a third-life crisis. Ever since I've turned 25, I've had this feeling that it's time for some reviewing. You know, the old "where am I coming from, where am I headed?" kind of thing. The bad news is that I still have no idea. I have no idea what I'm going to do "when I grow up". On some days, I want to be an academic, and on others, I think I must be crazy to even consider myself suited to this sort of career. I have a whole lot of debt. I don't know whether I'm going to be living in this country, my home country, or someplace completely different a year or two from now. Pretty much the only thing I've learned from life so far is that you shouldn't get too attached to plans you've made. It's of course possible to make plans and then follow through on them, but I think it's important to stay openminded and flexible lest you miss amazing opportunities which are presenting themselves to you. On the other hand, it's also important no to be too much of a leaf blowing around aimlessly in the wind, because otherwise you'll end up a couch potato.

This is why I think everyone should have a list of things they want to do before they die, and never quite lose sight of them. A list like that can't be completed, ever, by its own nature, because unless you die, you should be adding to this list- otherwise you've given yourself up. And, by God, should I get old, prepare for an extremely high-strung old lady.

Here is mine:

1. Learn how to scuba-dive and then take a scuba-diving trip somewhere nice and warm.

2. Go whitewater rafting.

3. See the pyramids in Egypt.

4. See some of the pyramids in Central America.

5. Go on a several months-long eco-tourism trip across the African continent.

6. Own a tortoise.

7. Get a novel of mine published.

8. Get a play of mine produced.

9. Audition for a movie or a play.

10. Have a child.

11. Own a home with a large garden in the backyard.

12. Learn how to play an instrument-preferably piano.

13. Live in a French-speaking area for an extended period.

As you can see, my list isn't terribly ambitious. Some of the goals are longer term, and some are short term. Some I just have to do, while others are going to be more of a challenge. I'm also sure I've forgotten a whole lot of things, but I'll be sure to edit this post to keep track of things.

Anyone who reads this is hereby tagged to make a similar list. Just do it- it's good for you. It'll keep you accountable to yourself.

Did you know that...

2006-04-09T17:38:00.000-06:00

...googling “Star Trek” yields 48 million results, compared to about 22 million for “tits” and 29 million for “pussy"?

I came across this interesting tidbit of information as part of my research for a women's studies paper. Honestly.

It's William Shatner, goddammit!

2006-04-08T16:39:00.000-06:00

There is a 40th anniversary Star Trek convention in Las Vegas in August. I want to go- a Star Trek convention is on my to-do list for life. William Shatner will be there, as well as Brent Spiner and the guy who played Riker(I keep forgetting his name). You can get a picture taken with any of them(for a few bucks, of course). There will be tons of nerds to gape at. Besides, I could actually satisfy my mild curiosity about Las Vegas at the same time.

The price tag is somewhere between $1000 and $1300 for three nights, including everything from flight to hotel to meals to tickets, depending on how many events you want to go to.

I am seriously tempted.

Tribute to Emma

2006-03-31T12:34:00.000-07:00

My niece is called Emma. She is 15 months old.

Her favourite word is "Auto" (German for "car", as you might have guessed).

Her favourite thing to do is to read and look at books.

She hums loudly while doing it, and furrows her brow- both out of sheer concentration.

I'd say, that makes for one awesome baby.

I can't believe I miss my niece so much- it's almost as if I had a heart.

Wha...?

2006-03-29T12:20:00.000-07:00

It passed.

What your lives are worth to me.

2006-02-28T22:00:00.000-07:00

I saw 5 minutes of a DS9 episode this afternoon while eating lunch. The episode treated the age-old dilemma of weighing lives against one another.

What typically happens in these scenarios is that the noble leader refuses to make a decision to sacrifice one life for 8000 or 1000 lives for 2 million, and then the hero comes along and somehow manages to save all of them. The hero of course only just barely had enough time to do so because the noble leader wasn't willing to say that 1 person is less valuable than 8000 and stalled the necessary decision.

Now, I can see this kind of reaction making sense in scenarios of negotiating with criminals, because of course you don't want a bunch of criminals to take 100 people hostage and then ask for the prime minister or their least favourite contestant on Canadian Idol to be offed.

However, in these movies it is often a decision of resources. We can survive this [natural catastrophe/accident of your choice] if only we [action of your choice that will inevitably kill someone innocent].

What bothers me is the mathematical inconsistency. Apparently, we claim that all people are equally valuable. If that is true, then the logical conclusion is that 100 people are more valuable than 1. If we say we cannot decide whether we should sacrifice one to save 100, then we are saying that potentially one could be worth more than another.

So, in conclusion, if I ever get to be a Navy General, and you're stuck in that section of the u-boat I need to shut off hermeneutically to contain a fire, expect to die.

Unless, of course, I like you. Then it gets much more complicated.

Thankfully, I don't like too many people. I would make an excellent Navy general.

Wondrous words

2006-02-15T17:22:00.000-07:00

Something I didn't expect to say today:

"If I'd skipped class, I could have cut out the pages of my journal in the shape of a monkey head too."

Something I didn't expect to hear yesterday:

"No, no, I would still never leave the earth's orbit."

Should I broaden my horizons or self-indulge?

2006-02-11T23:49:00.000-07:00

I'm looking for one more course to take in the summer term. So far, I'm considering:

Native Studies 200
Math 115
Religious Studies 220
Linguistics 100 or 101

Have you anything to say about any of these? The religious studies class is about Islam, and it and the Native Studies course are attempts to ameliorate my ignorance in these areas. Math and Linguistics are clearly self-indulgent. What to do?

Looking to buy Super Nintendo Games

2006-02-09T14:51:00.000-07:00

Aladdin
Zelda
Lion King
Indiana Jones
Super Bomberman 1 or 2
Super Mario World 2

Got any?

And, by all means, feel free to make fun of me for either my choice of console or choice of games (or choice of boyfriend, although that one is kind of getting old by now, just like the boyfriend).

I'm putting Star Trek in there somehow.

2006-02-06T11:01:00.000-07:00

Man, feminist theory can be a bunch of wordy bullshit. A Manifesto for Cyborgs?...Hmmm..Cyborgs...Borg...Star Trek...

Ha! And there's my angle for the oral presentation I have to do in two hours.

Feminist Theory and the Borg. Feminist theory is futile? Resistance is feminist?

Hot Damn, I'm not having a good pun day.

I just wish this was over already.

I-week happenings.

2006-02-04T14:52:00.000-07:00

I met my hero. I shook his hand. I stuttered. I blushed. Then, I said, loudly and clearly:

"It's my birthday today."

That is why it now says in the front of my copy of Race Against Time :

To Catrin:

I am honoured to
have shared your birthday
with you.
In friendship,
Stephen Lewis

I am a total nitwit. Thankfully there is no danger of him remembering me.

On other breaking news, the team: "The Pancakes", consisting of Babil Pobee, Steve Smith, Sara Ghebremusse, Chris Henderson and me has won the 18th annual International Quiz. Amongst many others we beat a team consisting of the UofA chaplains. Thank *God* they took that section on religious symbols out. And man, was it ever funny when they announced that.

Earlier that day, I got my hair braided into three corn rows for black history month and looked ridiculous. Or so I was told at least.

Also, I have gotten involved with the Kamit African Carribean Society and am trying to help them with their fund raiser- all proceeds go to alleviate the AIDS crisis in Africa. They are thinking of donating it to the Stephen Lewis foundation, but they haven't gotten the green light to use his name yet, so forget I said that.

The fundraiser is a Jazz, Art and fashion night with African hors-d'oeuvres. If you are an artist who would like to donate a piece of art- the theme is "Persevering in th Face of Hardship"- then please contact me. There will be a silent auction for your art and also a panel of judges who will pick the best pieces for prizes- most likely cash prizes- so you could come out way ahead.

If you are just interested in going to a nice event with food, performances and art, and would like to see me and Steve Smith model African clothing in the fashion show- I'm thinking of giving him corn rows as a punishment for ridiculing mine-, then contact me as well. Prices are $10 for students and $ 15 otherwise.

A Working Woman

2006-01-22T22:02:00.000-07:00

Today, at work, I watched a feature length movie, ate ice cream and got some of my Economics readings done.

I also got hit in the face, torso and extremities, pinched until I bled, screamed at, my arm twisted and my hair pulled so hard that one of my hair clips broke.

Plus, someone massaged the back of my head with his foot.

What kind of job is that, you ask?

Go figure.

"Cooking, crocheting and the *ock- now, I've already done one of these things today. What's the other one going to be?"

2006-01-15T21:40:00.000-07:00

Turns out it was cooking. *And* baking, actually, but that doesn't start with a 'c' like the other three.

Hence, here is what it looks like when one pre-boils a pretzel. I am positive this haunting image will be with you until the end of days.

And here is what the finished product looks like.

Feel free to consider me the perfect woman.

The Freudian Toss

2005-12-19T09:10:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I neither want to write my Interdisciplinary Studies Final nor fly home to Germany. In the last two days, I have lost both my lecture notes and my plane ticket, and low and behold, found both of them in the garbage independently. What say you to that?

People are getting married. I don't approve.

2005-12-14T22:49:00.000-07:00

The mainstream Hollywood notion of romantic love is stupid. If anything, it's an instrument devised by the patriarchy-as is the bra, on an unrelated side note- to make women stay with men they're not happy with. I mean, think about it- "the happiest day of your life"? Huge multi-day wedding conventions? Blood diamond engagement rings from Sierra Leone? $10,000 events with peppercorn icecream? What a complete and utter pile of crap.

Wake up, ladies! You're selling yourself short! You're falling into a huge capitalist trap! Not that I haven't fallen and don't still continue to fall into some of them myself- after all, I still insist on shaving my legs for some undefinable reason-but at least not this one.

Let me tell you, as I so frequently do, why all of you who want to get married are stupid:

1. Your traditional wedding fantasy costs a shitload of money. A *shit*load. Go take a trip around the world, it'll get you a few months at the least.

2. Why on earth would you want to dress up like a big cupcake?

3. Why on earth would you want to sign a piece of paper that promises something that you are in no position to promise? Oh, I think you believe it *at the time*- but, love does weird things to your brain. Don't fucking sign anything! Or would you sign something when you're high on crack?

4. Scarcity makes things valuable. If you don't know for sure that someone is probably with you for a very long time- and, in the effects it has on the human brain the 7 years the average marriage lasts might as well be forever- time together isn't all that scarce. All that matters here is perceived scarcity, though- you can spend quite a bit of time together as long as you don't know that you've bought the whole goddamn cow already.

5. You have to live together. Living together is evil. Certainly, there are plusses, but they don't outweigh the minusses. For one, you never have a chance to get horny, unless one of the partners continually rejects the other one, and then that's bad for the relationship anyways. Second, you're going to eventually see all the unpleasant private things your partner does. And while that creates a very heartwarming sense of intimacy at first, let me tell you, it gets old very fast. On the other hand, if I hadn't lived with someone before, I wouldn't have permanent residency, and if I hadn't subsequently separated from him, I also wouldn't be able to get student loans. Every time I apply, I proudly check the 'separated' box. If I didn't, they would require the amount of line 167 of my parents income tax. 'But my parents live in Germany', I say. "How much more independent you think I can get?' 'We still need it', they answer. 'But the WHOLE GODDAMN FUCKING TAX SYSTEM IS DIFFERENT! THERE IS NO LINE 167!', I retort. 'We still need line 167 from your parents' income tax', they insist friendly. Can you imagine the joy I felt when I realized that my official marital status was 'separated' and that that meant I qualified as an independent adult? Words can't capture it.

6. Divorce costs a lot of money. Unless you both decide to split at the same time, one of you is inevitably going to be mad at the other one. This might lead more complacent types who aren't so worried about finding their "soulmate" (i.e., men) to just tolerate the one they're with. Wouldn't you rather know that your partner could leave you any second, and that the fact that s/he hasn't done so means that s/he really *wants* to be there?

7. If a stressful day where you have to deal with all your relatives' neuroses is your idea of the happiest day of your life, your expectations are kind of low. In fact, why don't you shoot yourself right now? 'But Catrin', you say,'I want to get married in Vegas/Mexico/the Bahamas with a close circle of friends!' 'Well', I say, 'if there's enough booze, and if you think you might just be able to get away with getting a whole bunch of gifts and then making sure there's a 'mistake' that anulls your marriage, I say go for it! In fact, I've been thinking about that myself."

8. 'But what about children', you say, 'I want to have children!'. Well, I have it on good authority that you don't actually have to be married to do that. In fact, I vividly remember having an argument with my then-best friend in grade 4 about just that. Guess what? I won. Guess what also? Her father told her to stay away from me, because I was a bad influence, and told her cousin to spend more time with her. Guess who got knocked up when she was sixteen and I was, if not innocent, at least to remain virginal for quite some time after that? Exactly. The cousin. HA! Take that for judging me! I still hate you, father of former best friend-in fact, I had a nightmare about you last night. Something about socks. It was horrific. But back on topic: Just bring up your child with your best friend. At least your best friend likely agrees that hockey is a vile and violent sport aimed at engraining mainstream masculinity schemata, and that a child should never play it, unless it's a girl.

9. Common law people get the same tax benefits. That said, since I don't believe in living together either, just get yourself an opposite gender roommate or something. Thankfully, I'm in no danger of breaking into the first tax bracket in the foreseeable future. Or ever, considering I'm doing a B.A. in International Bullshitting.

10. Just leave your options open, you eejit.

I'm a Virgin. I always have been.

2005-12-14T00:17:00.000-07:00

Of course, some of my very closest friends among you will suspect that this is not, in fact, true.

However, it is a quote from the funniest movie I have seen in a very, very long time- 40-year old virgin.

What can I say? It is crude, it is funny, it has lots of nudity, and it seems really unscripted. Our little house was ringing with screams of laughter for the last 90 minutes or so.

Fuck those finals- I'm gonna watch it again tomorrow.

Your Mom Is Sub Zero!

2005-12-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

So, I got myself a Super Nintendo- the last game console that didn't require people to put all other parts of their life on hold in order to learn how to play with it(Hee hee- other parts of their life).

Also, while I'm trying to analyze totalitarianism in two novels, two questions have come to my mind and won't go away:

What is the longest turd ever produced by a human being?

Is there a guinness record on it?

Just Say No

2005-12-05T14:32:00.000-07:00

I couldn't have put it more eloquently. My regards to Mr. Bernard Shaw, speaking through Mr. Doolittle in Pygmalion:

PICKERING. Why dont you marry that missus of yours? I rather draw the line at encouraging that sort of immorality.

DOOLITTLE. Tell her so, Governor: tell her so. I'm willing. It's me that suffers by it. Ive no hold on her. I got to be agreeable to her. I got to give her presents. I got to buy her clothes something sinful. I'm a slave to that woman, Governor, just because I'm not her lawful husband. And she knows it too. Catch her marrying me! Take my advice, Governor: marry Eliza while shes young and dont know no better. If you dont youll be sorry for it after. If you do, she'll be sorry for it after; but better you than her, because youre a man, and shes only a woman and dont know how to be happy anyhow.

Humour Apparently Isn’t a Laughing Matter

2005-12-01T01:00:00.000-07:00

Forever gone are the times when I labelled everything that seemed reprehensible as “gay” or "retarded", and that's the dubious acronym "P.C."'s fault. Don’t get me wrong- I think that’s a good thing. Having a descriptor for sexual orientation or a mental disorder double as a synonym for “negative” clearly does nothing to add to human understanding.

Recently, however, political correctness has invaded the realm of the funny. God forbid someone should laugh at something that is upsetting to somebody out there. If someone does, I’m certain we will all have to hear about it later- be it from an upset individual or an affronted special interest group, in person or through a letter to the editor in the Gateway. Lately, for example, it hasn’t been very fashionable to laugh at rape or sexual assault. Individuals finding humour in the likes of admittedly crude student comics must, according to the affronted, clearly not realize the gravity of these offences, and contribute to the general societal indifference to the victims’ plights.

Now, excuse me while I call a big, fat bullshit on that. Firstly, humour is, among other things, a coping mechanism. Ever notice how people laugh when they’re uncomfortable? Ever seen somebody start laughing after they’ve narrowly escaped an accident? Exactly. Secondly, almost all jokes (save puns, and sometimes even they) are, in one way or another, politically incorrect. At the very least, we laugh about stupid people. Isn’t that unfair to the ones among us who are just a bit slower than the rest? Take that to an extreme, and we laugh about the developmentally disabled. We laugh at people being cheated on, people having horrible diseases (remember the leper jokes?) and even at people dying(famous last words, anyone?). And I’m already looking forward to seeing someone- and note that that is a real, existing person- wipe out beautifully this winter trying to catch his or her bus. Humour is humanity’s way of dealing with some of life’s unpleasant aspects on a daily basis- a protection mechanism without which we’d all be sitting in the bathtub with a nice set of razorblades right now.

That said, I realize that everybody’s sense of humour has its limitations, depending on his or her personal history. If your older sister just suffered a stillbirth, you probably won’t find dead baby jokes very funny, and if you’ve grown up in

Ethiopia

, you might not have laughed as loudly as I did when the Blue Nile Restaurant ran out of food one night. For me, having grown up in

Germany

, it’s the German jokes. I find them lowly, misinformed throwbacks into the WWII era, where German is synonymous with Nazi and all my fellow citizens are callous murderers screaming at each other in Russian all day. I find my head swelling up with anger when I, for the umpteenth time, watch a Hollywood comedy where all Germans have whiteblond hair and walk around like evil robots, and the theatre around me is roaring with laughter.

A little while ago, though, I have come to realize that even though they laugh, most people don’t actually believe these stereotypes. Whenever I meet one of the few who does, I either choose to ignore that person, or, more frequently, if I deem them to be receptive, try to clear up their misconceptions in a serious conversation. Still, even now that I’ve had said conversations with virtually all people that are close to me, most of them continue to find scenes like the one in Dodgeball - where the German team prays to David Hasselhoff before the big game- absolutely hilarious. How do I cope? Guess what: I just don't laugh. Occasionally, I also throw in the fact that David Hasselhoff had one hit in the very early nineties and hasn’t been heard of since, and console myself with the knowledge that my friends are for the most part smart, informed, open-minded people who would never buy into these clichés.

I mean, please, people, let others laugh at whatever the heck they want. Like, for example, that Canada is so boring and so insignificant in world history that most other countries haven't even bothered to make up stereotypes about it.

So We Went to a Drag Show

2005-11-30T15:59:00.000-07:00

I was dressed as a man, but I'll spare you the image(apparently, I looked like a slightly hotter version of Kyle Kawanami)

The principal-agent problem

2005-11-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

Scene 1

Catrin enters the bus. She takes out her wallet and searches for her booklet of bus tickets.

BUS DRIVER 1: Are you looking for your bus pass?

CATRIN: (stupidly honest) No, I don't have a bus pass. I am looking for my booklet of bus tickets.

She rummages through her wallet some more, finally gives up and takes out a two dollar coin.

CATRIN: Here...

BUS DRIVER 1: (pushing her hand back) No, don't worry about it.

Scene 2

Catrin enters the bus, attempting to take out her wallet.

BUS DRIVER 2: Don't worry about it.

He waves her through.

Scene 3

Catrin enters the bus fully aware that she does not have a bus ticket. She takes out a handful of exactly counted out change and attempts to throw it in the box.

BUS DRIVER 3: No, don't even....

He pushes her hand back and gives her a transfer.

This all happened within one week. I would also like to assure you that I was fully dressed in all cases and that no sexual favours were exchanged during the above conversations.

Almost Exactly One Year Ago...

2005-11-17T17:17:00.000-07:00

...I met the honourable Ralph Klein for the first time, carefully navigating the bullshit he surrounded himself with. Today, I saw him again, at the legislature, where Raj Pannu introduced me as Carton Berghoff. Oh, and let's not forget Karl Kawanami!

But, seriously, Ralph, what did you mean by that Pinocchio metaphor?

'Cause I don't get it.

Another interesting conversation between me and my Drama teacher Vern Thiessen:

VT: I really like your first draft. You actually have a great sense of humour hidden underneath that...

Pause.

Me: ...teutonic exterior..?

VT: Yes, that's it.

Me: I get that a lot.

No, Germany is not landlocked.

2005-11-05T19:02:00.001-07:00

My Utterly Indisputable Hero

2005-11-02T21:14:00.000-07:00

Mr. Lewis is on the ropes

By Michael Valpy

Globe and Mail
Saturday, October 22, 2005

The scene is the junior common room of the University of Toronto's Massey College. Stephen Lewis, the United Nations Secretary-General's special envoy to Africa for AIDS, is there to launch his book, Race Against Time, the text of the Massey Lectures he now is delivering in cities across Canada, which subsequently will be broadcast on CBC Radio.

The common room on a mid-October's late afternoon is packed and loud with talk. It is a come-and-be-seen event commensurate with Mr. Lewis's acquired celebrity status, filled with academics, writers, broadcasters, publishers, a thick slice of Toronto intellectual society jammed shoulder-to-shoulder over wine and canapés.

You can't see Stephen Lewis, but you instantly know where he is. He is at the far end of the room behind a wall of students, three, four and five deep, hanging on his every word, all of them holding his book, gazing at him reverentially.

If the bureaucratic establishments of the UN and the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund and the U.S. State Department could see this scene — this man many of them would love to see ousted from his job, being idolized — it would, as Mr. Lewis might say with his trademark flawless diction, "upset them immensely."

Indeed, there is growing speculation that Mr. Lewis — African AIDS envoy since 2001 and, before that, deputy executive director of Unicef, Canada's ambassador to the UN and leader of the Ontario NDP — has upset too many important people immensely, and is on the edge of being sacked.

He himself alludes to that possibility in his book, speculating that some of the things he has said may lead high-level UN officials and politicians to "exact retribution."

He has strongly criticized the U.S. administration and a number of Western and African governments by name — the equivalent in UN bureaucratic etiquette to being flatulent at a garden party.

He has baldly trashed the policies of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.

He has verbally lashed some of the UN's top executives (Secretary-General Kofi Annan included, again by name) for being variously duplicitous and do-nothing while the HIV-AIDS pandemic destroys much of sub-Saharan African society.

He may, in fact, deny his critics the pleasure of seeing him fired — by quitting.

In a conversation three days after his book launch, he talks of feeling emotionally beaten down by the hideousness of the pandemic he has witnessed over the past four years, and he wonders aloud if he is strong enough to remain at his job.

In the comfortably cluttered living room of the house in Toronto's leafy Forest Hill where Mr. Lewis, 67, lives with his wife, journalist and social activist Michele Landsberg, he struggles to make sense of the horror he sees on every visit to the continent.

He whispers statistics: The 40 million people infected worldwide — 26 million in Africa. The millions, mainly young women, without access to treatment because the world won't pay for it. The 14 million children now orphaned by AIDS. The third of all children in Zambia who soon will be AIDS orphans. The half a million children who die each year, and yet not until a few months ago — 25 years after the pandemic began in 1981 — was the first pediatric treatment formulation finally worked out.

"I've often thought to myself that it's possible" — he pauses for a long time — "that you need a sturdier emotional psyche than I have. I mean, you know, I just can't take what I see on the ground. I just cannot take it. I am only one person.

"But I defy anybody to be able to take it over the long term. Because, you know, it's all so unnecessary."

His voice drops again to a whisper: "And they're all young women, they're all in their 20s and 30s. You go into a hospice, 25 beds, 23 of them filled by women in their 20s. You can't get the drugs to them in time. You know they're going to die in a matter of months. They all have children. You feel as though everything is out of kilter."

He says the HIV-AIDS assault on women has no parallel in history. "Women are the pillars of family and community — the mothers, the caregivers, the farmers. The pandemic is preying on them relentlessly, threatening them in a way that the world has never yet witnessed. The virus threatens the very existence of women in some countries. I can barely talk about [the gender inequality] with equanimity."

He talks about the children.

"You go into a little community centre for kids . . . and I remember this . . . you have a whole group of kids sitting in a little room. They look as though they're 4 or 5, they're all stunted, and they're really 8, 9, 10 years old, all HIV-positive, and there are no drugs. And you know these kids are measuring their lives in minutes. And you just wonder . . . why is this? How long can it happen? How long does it have to go on incrementally?

"It's just so bad. It's so awful. How do you get people to understand? How do you get things mobilized?"

Thus, Stephen Lewis — who has established his own charitable foundation to fund AIDS projects in Africa, mainly for infected women, orphans and AIDS sufferers who have created their own support and education programs — talks now about quitting.

Nothing, he says, is fixed. But he thinks maybe it will be next year after the biennial global AIDS summit is held in Toronto.

He says he is running out of steam — those are his words. And when he is asked what the indices are of "running out of steam," he has a ready list:

"Crying too easily on public platforms.

"Awake at night with images in my mind.

"Tired." (No one who knows Mr. Lewis likely has heard him before say publicly that he is tired.)

"Apprehensive now about going to Africa and knowing what I'm going to encounter. . . . You meet people with AIDS, you make friendships . . . and then you come back six months later and they're gone."

He says: "I want to be around for the breakthrough. I want to feel this pandemic is going to come to an end at some point and I want to have been a part of that, of subduing it. But I'm not kidding myself. I think eventually" — and then the words again — "you run out of steam."

If steam is what Stephen Lewis is running out of, it is not happening quickly. Or even visibly.

His close friend and alter ego of nearly 50 years, Gerald Caplan, says: "It's no secret that the job takes an enormous toll. But for Stephen, it's not acceptable to give up. It's not acceptable to show despair or resignation. It's only acceptable to continue to inspire others to carry on the fight. Other than for his grandkids, that's why he exists. And that's what he does. True, too, though, every day is a test."

In the past few months Mr. Lewis has all but called the U.S. government recklessly negligent for tying its AIDS assistance money to Uganda to a condition that the country's public-health authorities de-emphasize condoms in their AIDS education programs.

When the Americans denied Mr. Lewis's accusations, he came within a hair's breadth of calling them liars — something UN officials just don't do. There are persistent rumours out of Washington that the U.S. State Department wants Mr. Lewis removed from his post.

He has excoriated the World Bank and the IMF for imposing structural adjustment programs — dictating how much African governments can allocate to social programs in exchange for loans from the two institutions — that he says have crippled many countries' health and education resources.

He says the programs have resulted in one of the greatest wrongs in the fragile global South, the imposition of user fees for public education, with a resulting double penalty for the children of AIDS, orphaned by their parents' deaths and left in the darkness of ignorance by their financial inability to afford school.

In his book, Mr. Lewis writes that the World Bank and the IMF should pay the cost associated with abolishing school fees as "reparations" for the damage their policies have caused: "This is not some negotiable item. I am writing and speaking passionately about it because, every time I travel to Africa, I encounter orphan children who are desperate to be in school, who need friends and teachers and attention, who need one meal a day that could come from a school feeding program, who need the sense of self-worth that education could bring, who want so much to learn, and who are denied all of it because the costs of schooling are prohibitive."

He has criticized present and former UN officials — for example, Carol Bellamy, former executive director of Unicef and someone close to the U.S. administration — for publicly pledging to eradicate education user fees and then doing nothing.

He has accused UN executives, including Mr. Annan, of pledging to right the gender imbalance among UN senior staff, and the gender inequality in many UN programs and, most of all, in the impact of the AIDS pandemic — but injecting virtually no substance into their promises.

He accuses the Canadian government of inexplicable hypocrisy in pledging to raise the level of its official development assistance to 0.7 per cent of the gross national product (it currently is less than 0.25 per cent), but refusing to declare a timetable for its accomplishment.

"The irony is that on an issue like HIV-AIDS in the developing world, Canada's record is excellent. The reality is that our initiatives on the pandemic are completely eclipsed by our failure on foreign aid."

He declares that there is no chance — none, not a hope in hell — that the much- touted Millennium Development Goals (which include reversing the spread of HIV-AIDS by 2015) will be attained unless all the world's wealthy countries raise their levels of official development assistance to 0.7 per cent. Which he increasingly doubts they will do.

He says the Group of Eight countries' pledge of $50-billion in aid to Africa by 2010 simply is not enough — when the conservative estimate of the cost of sustaining and introducing new AIDS programs in Africa by that year will alone be $30-billion. The result, he says, will be as certain as night follows day: millions of people denied treatment; millions needlessly dying.

Time and time again in his book and in conversation, he returns to the theme of women bearing the brunt of the pandemic — having no control over the sex they must submit to from "predatory" men, usually their husbands, who are HIV-positive; experiencing the frightfulness not only of becoming infected themselves but of infecting their children; being denied treatment by the hundreds of thousands, and finally dying at a young age and knowing their children will be left motherless.

Only 5 to 8 per cent of pregnant women in sub-Saharan Africa have access to PMTCT (Prevention of Mother-to-Child Transmission) programs, Mr. Lewis says. "This is a terrible deficiency. There is no excuse for this state of affairs" — except the parsimony of the wealthy world and the empty pledges of its leaders.

"Because of the low access rates," he writes, "thousands upon thousands of babies are born HIV-positive who need not be infected; most of them die — helplessly, pathetically — before the age of 2. But for those HIV-positive women who have access to PMTCT, the program is a godsend.

"One tablet of the drug nevirapine during the birthing process, and the liquid equivalent within 72 hours of birth, and the infection rate is cut by 53 per cent."

He writes: "My own view is that the horrendous toll is yet to come. Countries will be fighting for survival 10 and 15 years down the road. It's simply impossible to tear the productive generations out of the heart of a country without facing an incomparable crisis."

He says: "I'm not some sweet innocent. I'm 67 years old. I've learned something about politics, diplomacy and multilateralism. I thought I understood the way the world works. I don't.

"I'll devote every fibre of my body to defeating this viral contagion, but I cannot abide the willful inattention of so much of the international community. I cannot expunge from my mind the heartless indifference, the criminal neglect of the last decade, during which time countless people have gone to their graves — people who should still be walking the open savannah of Africa."

Will he get fired for his outspokenness?

Kofi Annan is believed to have come to Mr. Lewis's defence against the Americans over Uganda. A Canadian knowledgeable about the workings of the UN but speaking only on condition of anonymity, says the agency would not dare get rid of him.

"Everybody else [in the organization], including the Secretary-General, has criticized the UN recently, and then failed to introduce [Mr. Annan's] reforms. How could they pretend [if they went after Mr. Lewis] that they weren't just getting even because he named some names?

"I also think they know fully well how much personal support Stephen has throughout the world and how much trouble they'd be making for themselves if they turfed him."

As the conversation draws to a close in his living room, Mr. Lewis recalls the Massey College students clustered around him at his book launch. "They were sweet," he says.

Last year, 30 students from University of Toronto's law school approached him with an offer to do research on everything from women's property rights in countries with high AIDS death rates to intellectual-property rights in pharmaceuticals to the impact of user fees for health and education in AIDS-infected countries. Some of the papers were 50 to 80 pages long, Mr. Lewis says, and the quality was "so good, it's startling."

This year, there were many more law students volunteering to help than Mr. Lewis and his staff could use. And he cannot meet the demands from universities and high schools to have him come and speak.

Three weeks ago, he stepped onto an elevator in a Winnipeg hotel to go to the top floor. Halfway up, the elevator stopped, the doors opened, a man got on. The man looked closely at him. He asked: "Are you Stephen Lewis?"

Mr. Lewis nodded, smiled pleasantly. "Yes, I am," he said.

The man snapped at him: "My son is in Ethiopia because of you and I don't like it."

Young Canadians — and likely young people elsewhere in the world — have found a hero. Anyone who messes with Stephen Lewis better know that.

Michael Valpy is a senior writer for The Globe and Mail.

Duck, parrot- I mean, who really knows the difference?

2005-10-30T22:16:00.000-07:00

My nails are bleeding.

2005-10-25T15:25:00.000-06:00

My history prof really has outdone himself today. I won't bother you with all the horrific little details(well, at least not most of you), so here is just the most outstanding little pearl of historic insight that I got to listen to on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon:

"What is the lesson we've learned from World War I?"

Silence.

"We've learned from WWI that when you defeat a nation, you have to flatten them, and pummel them right back to the stone age. Otherwise they're going to have an attitude after they lose, and that gives rise to people like Hitler."

Put that one on your bun and chew it. Or something.

Recipe of the Week

2005-10-21T18:00:00.000-06:00

STUFFED BELL PEPPERS

4 bell peppers
300g ground beef
1 small zucchini, diced
1/2 onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, diced
1 large can of tomato sauce
1 1/2 cups of cooked rice
oregano, basil, salt, pepper
1 cup grated cheese

1. Cut around stem of bell peppers, empty out seeds and memranes, and boil them in water for 5 minutes.

2. Fry zucchini, onion, garlic and ground beef until cooked. Season. Add rice and a little bit of the tomato sauce and half of the cheese.

5. Stand peppers upright in casserole dish, fill them, and dump the rest of the tomato sauce on them. Cover and bake on 350 for 45 minutes.

6. Uncover and sprinkle with rest of cheese. Bake for another 15 minutes.

Enjoy!

Romance

2005-10-18T18:30:00.000-06:00

Here's what I think about the topic:

Most Romantic Novel: Nineteen Eighty-Four(George Orwell):

Winston and Julia have just started to meet secretly, mostly in public places for fractions of a minute, but sometimes in a hideout for a few happy hours.

"It's all off," she murmured as soon as she judged it safe to speak. "Tomorrow, I mean."
"What?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. I can't come."
"Why not?"
"Oh, the usual reason. It started early this time."
For a moment he was violently angry. During the month he had known her the nature of his desire for her had changed. At the beginning there had been little true sensuality in it. The first love-making had been simply an act of the will. But after the second time it was different. The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all round him. She had become a physical necessity, something that he not only wanted but felt he had a right to. When she said that she could not come, he had the feeling that she was cheating him. But just at this moment the crowd pressed them together and their hands accidentally met. She gave the tips of his fingers a quick squeeze that seemed to invite not desire but affection. It struck him that when one lived with a woman this particular disapointment must be a normal, recurring event; and a deep tenderness, such as he had not felt for her before, suddently took hold of him. He wished that they were a married couple of ten years' standing. he wished that he were walking through the streets with her just as they were doing now, but openly without fear, talking of trivialities and buying odds and ends for the household.

Most Romantic Song: Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen, also Rufus Wainwright, and there's about a million versions- here are my favourite excerpts):

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

(Hallelujah)

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

(Hallelujah)

Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

(Hallelujah)

There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

(Hallelujah)

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

(Hallelujah)

Most romantic Movie: Much Ado About Nothing(with Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson)

Oh, the language! The wit! The unbearable wit! And they are so right for each other! Sigh.

Goshdarnit.

2005-10-10T22:00:00.000-06:00

Now we have it- Angela Merkel will most likely be the new chancellor. Apparently most papers agree that the CDU/CSU have paid a rather high price for the grand coalition and the position of chancellor - 8 of 15 ministerial posts went to the SPD.

SPD: Development, Health, Employment, Exterior, Finance, Justice, Environment, Infrastructure.

CDU/CSU: Family, Education and Research, Interior, Commerce, Defense, Agriculture, and the minister of the chancellory(don't ask me what that is. I have not the faintest clue).

I've been trying to take solace in the fact that she is allegedly female, but it's not working.

Oktoberfest Beer Gardens in Quad

2005-09-28T12:27:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm glad this year they got at least two things right. That is, unlike last year, they did not fuck up the German flag on their posters, and unlike last year, it is actually happening in September as it's supposed to be.

Not that I'll go, mind you. I assume the beer will still be terrible.

I Want My Kartoffelsalat!

2005-09-26T12:36:00.000-06:00

Because I want to eat it with my Weisswurst and my Breze.

The Search for Alberta Exhibitionists

2005-09-20T23:22:00.000-06:00

Don't get too excited- the title is only one of the many very confusing ways how people seem to find my blog. Chris Chan has a rather nifty tracker he set up for me and it tells me all kinds of things.

For example, I would like to really stress that people seem to find my blog by searching for "Beautiful beautiful beautiful irresistible", and deemphasize the fact that others do so by searching for "harpy picture".

For some reason, someone from the University of Pennsylvania comes to my blog almost daily. The only connection I can make to the state of Pennsylvania is that my exboyfriend's sister's inlaws live there, and I do find it a bit weird that somebody who doesn't know me would read my blog regularly. I mean, it's really not all that exciting unless you know me and the people I write about. Then, of course, it is magnificent.

As for other news, my history professor voiced this brilliant pearl of wisdom into the eager and blank minds of malleable first-years today:

"So, what do marxist theorists really think, or progressive theorists, or even NDP people for that matter? I mean, you're going to get a good dose of that kind of thinking in the years to come at the university, so I might as well set this straight for you right now. They think that what's at the root of absolutely everything that is wrong in this world is capitalism, and if we did away with capitalism then we would all live happily ever after. Capitalism makes us greedy and want big SUVs, and if we all rode on bicycles like good little environmentalists then the world would be a better place."

Who gave tenure to this man? Or birth, for that matter?

Babil und Ich

2005-09-20T23:09:00.000-06:00

Crazy Happenings in Germany

2005-09-18T19:40:00.000-06:00

1. A tornado was sighted in Bavaria. A tornado! In Bavaria at that. There aren't any natural disasters in Bavaria, especially not tornados. In fact, my mom almost freaked out when I told her that I lived in a city where there had been a tornado before. Alas, it developed over a lake, and stayed there, without causing any damage to property or human life. Good tornado!

2. The elections happened. Result: Confusion. The current Goverrnment is a coalition between the supposedly left of centre SPD(a preliminary 34.3% )who has a beautifully neoliberal approach to economics and dabbles in some left-wingism when it comes to things that won't cost them any money such as gay marriage, and the Green Party(a preliminary 8.1%). They both lost seats in comparison to the last election, and anyone who can add already knows that they have lost their majority.

Then, there is the FDP, who for all intents and purposes are liberals(small l liberal, as in the philosophical origin of the word). They gained 2.4 precentage points up to a preliminary 9,8%.

Then, we have our newly formed left party, who seems to not to be able to decide on its name quite yet, but has won a preliminary 8.7%.

And, of course, the CDU/CSU, also known as the Christian Democrats, or Christian Social Democrats in Bavaria. They lost 3.3% to a preliminary 35.2%. Although nominally the winners of the election, this is a devastating result for the CDU/CSU, as they have very little hope for a coalition. They meant to govern in conjunction with the FDP, but alas, they fall short nore than a full 5%.

Nobody really knows what will happen. The FDP has voted in a pre-election meeting not to be in a coalition with the greens. The Greens have openly stated that they won't be in a coalition with the CDU/CSU, and the chancellor Schroeder apparently stated in an interview that there is no chance in hell for a grand coalition(SPD/CDU/CSU).

What does my bleeding socialist heart hope for? SPD, Greens and the new left party...no, it's just too much to ask.

"You Just Caught Them From a Bad Angle."

2005-09-16T21:17:00.000-06:00

"Want to watch me butcher some facts and oversimplify world history to fit within my political bias? That would be $ 435 for you."

2005-09-15T16:14:00.000-06:00

I am not happy with my history class as you might have guessed from the title of my post.

So he's a history professor and not an economics professor. Sure, I realize that. But why does he explain an economic concept at all if he gets the most basic fact about it wrong? Comparative advantage is not a hard concept. Pretty much the only way to get it wrong is to confuse it with absolute advantage. Which he did, and so do 130 other students now.

This is followed by a very confident complete mispronounciation and mistranslation of a German term, which he repeated several times, just in case somebody hadn't picked up this particular one of his mistakes yet.

Last but not least, he shook the solution for world poverty right out of the frayed sleeve of this tweed jacket: it's the tariffs' fault.

The tariffs! It's all so clear to me now.

I like the sound of lawnmowers in the distance

2005-09-09T12:01:00.000-06:00

My Writing teacher seems really promising on the blogworthiness front, what with my low standards and all. As I strolled into class Tuesday morning at around 9:26 on my watch- which is a few minutes fast- I am greeted with a stern "You're late," which, of course, I counter with an equally stern: "No, I'm not. Your watch must be fast." The discussion goes back and forth a bit, kind of on an elementary school maturity level("You're late!" "No!" "Yes!" "No!" "Yes you are!" "No I'm not!"), and he eventually gives in and starts with class introductions. After that, we take a little coffee break, and as soon as he's out of the room, I said to the girl sitting next to me(who later turned out to be singer/songwriter Krista Hartman who is playing at Waynefest this weekend): "I don't know what he was on. I was perfectly on time." She looks at me and says: "This class starts at nine."

Well, what could I do? I went outside where my teacher had a smoke, and tried to convince him that I am in fact *not* schizophrenic, and that I was quite aware that it was 9:27- which in hindsight makes me more than 20 minutes late, even when calculating the fastness of my watch. Oh, first impressions.

Well, what have I learnt from this encounter? I have learnt that it is possible to win any argument, even against clear-cut and unambigous evidence to the contrary, as long as you are confident enough. And I sure was, believe you me.

Later, we played a little game where we all had to find ten endings each to the following sentences: I love/hate the taste of, the smell of, the feel of, the sight of etc. While I was rightfully apalled at the cliched answers most people came up with(strawberries and puppy dogs and shit), I found it quite amusing when someone said: "I hate the feel of rejection." First of all, it's funny becaue it's somewhere on a level with "I hate the feel of pain." Secondly, it's funny because my teacher countered that answer with "Boy, are you ever in the wrong class."

I can see a beautiful relationship emerging down the road. Just lay off the hippie games, ok?

Funny email subject line of the day: "Gabriel, I want the feet pictures"
Best laugh of the day: Look at the correction at the bottom right-hand corner in the current issue of the Gateway.

Scuba Diving

2005-09-05T12:59:00.000-06:00

Who's going to learn to scuba dive with me? Classes are monday evenings from 5:45pm to 10pm, and it costs $160 for students. Anyone?

2005-09-04T23:47:00.000-06:00

Anecdote 1: About the Blue Man and the Economist

So, as I was boring myself out of my mind sitting on an uncomfortable barstool at the illustrous Edmonton International Airport(where "international" means "has 3 daily flights to the continental United States"), I saw a blue man. He was bald, had leathery skin, and sported a distinctly smurf-coloured complexion. "Oh my," I thought to myself, biting a piece off my fourth chocolate bar(KitKat Chunky, if any of you care) and washing it down with my 5th extra-large coffee that afternoon,"there is a reason my contact lenses are called 'monthlies' and not 'semesterlies'!" As I lifted the Cosmopolitan magazine I was reading up higher so I could sneak looks at him from behind it, I realized it had been expressly for situations like this that I had payed something like 17 dollars for an issue of the much more dignified-looking Economist. Nobody stares open-mouthedly at blue guys from behind the Economist.
Well, as it turned out, his face was tattooed blue in a tiny pattern, so that from afar, it had a solid bright blue appearance. Having solved the mystery with my briliant analytical skills, I soon resettled into my article entitled If Guys wrote Cosmo cover lines (my favourite ones: "Want to Know How to Look Hot Naked? Take Your Clothes Off!", "Leaving the Seat Up- 12 Secret Ways Guys Show They're Committed", and "Why Sex is as Good as an Apology". Tee hee. Tee hee hee).
Suddenly, somebody loud-whispers with all the charm of a life-boat losing air in the middle of a particularly shark-infested part of the Atlantic Ocean: "Oh, my, god. Have you SEEN HIM?!?"
Now, you have to know thatI am not one for the abuse of fonts, like, say, using 5 different fonts on your elections poster or something silly like that. But with that woman, you could hear the fonts.
She said,

" Have you SEEN HIM?!?"

Her eyes were bulging out of her head, her mouth was about 2 inches from my chin, and she had a simultaneously disgusted and expecting smile on her face. Oh, I know what she wanted. She wanted me to bend over conspirationally and say, with a smilarly amazed-disgusted expression on my face,

" I know! Can you believe it?! I can't BELIEVE it!!!!"

I gave her the polite/bored shrug-smile.

In conclusion: What an unclassy woman. I bet she would have thought nothing of gawking at him from behind the Cosmopolitan.

Anecdote 2: About the Cleaning Lady and the Mustache

There was a cleaning lady. She had a fabulously groomed fully-grown moustache. And I don't mean that she had a lot of hair on her upper lip. She had a black moustache. This was particularly astonishing as all the hair on her head was an almost white shade of grey. End of story.

Anecdote 3: About Whatever the Fuck it is that's Wrong with People in General

As I was officially employed as the International Centre Welcome Booth Attendant, and my duties consisted of helping all of the 2-15 students arriving daily to make their way from the Air Canada Gate to the baggage carousel to the sky shuttle departure, I of course did nothing for 6.5 out of the seven hours of my shift. My open and shameless display of booth-sitting and general uselessness led many people to believe that, despite the 20 square foot banner hanging above my head reading "University of Alberta- Welcome International Students!", I was the airport information. The real airport information was of course less than 20 feet away from me, and a stainless steel official-looking structure with computers and all, while my booth was a little wooden cart, but sure.Why not. I generally answered questions about the location of washrooms, currency exchanges, shy shuttle departures and bank machines out of sheer laziness, as "Over there!" and pointing is much faster than "This is not the airport information, and I am not here to answer such ridiculously mundane questions, unless of course you are foreign and a differential-fee paying student at that fine university of ours." But needless to say, there were also questions that started with "My friend is coming in with Westjet from White Horse, and..." At this point I generally interrupted the inquirer, and attempted to say a more polite version of the former, such as "I'm sorry, I don't actually know the answer to this question- I'm not from the airport, I'm from the university, but the airport information is right over there." Curiously enough, about a good half of all people started turning around and walking away the minute they heard "I'm sorry, I don't actually know,". Even though I was very obvioulsy mid-sentence, they either turned around on their heels, or backed away a few steps before doing so. None of them were deterred by the fact that I was still talking. Of course, I wasn't deterred by the fact that they were walking away either, as I kept on going while they were moving. After a few suckers like that, my patience wore thin. The next lady did the exact same spiel with me, but as she walked away(she was an immediately-turner-arounder), I said "Excuse me! Excuse me!" That second 'excuse me' was considerably louder than the first one, and people started looking. Do you think she stopped? No. Turmed around? No. Maybe at least looked over her shoulder to see what I wanted? Sure not. Instead, she gave me a dismissive wave backward with her hand while walking away. I'm only saying one thing: Consider yourself lucky that I took pity on your miserable existence. Somebody lesser than me would have, say, made you polish the lobby with your grubby T-Shirt and then wax all of the sky shuttles with your greasy hair.

It's just as well tomorrow's my last day, I figure.

About the Sky Shuttle

2005-08-29T22:26:00.000-06:00

I've been taking the Sky Shuttle to the airport and back every day for a week now. Here are my observations:

1. Sky Shuttle Drivers really like EZ Rock(Is that how that contemptible station is spelt?). I have had to listen to a show with a first class harpye nutcase woman called Delilah every night on my way home. Except for that one driver tonight who listened to AM radio on a slightly off frequency so that it was all screechy and you could sometimes hear part of a different song from a different station. He had it on really loud. There was a baby in the car. It screamed, of course.

2. That same driver also thought it was a really good idea to occupy two lanes from the airport right up until and including 112th street. I swear it looked like he was concentratedly trying to divide the shuttle equally onto two lanes. Except when he swerved frantically to evade pot holes, of course. I have yet to be on a trip where not at least one of the following happened: screeching brakes, fender bender, honking at other cars, getting honked at.

3. Half of the drivers are the grumpiest &*$% I have ever met. The other half are the friendliest @&%#$ I've ever met. One of them even forced a Snickers on me. Not that it is particularly hard to make me eat chocolate. Well, I did refuse the first time he offered. I think. And one of them asked me a lot of questions about Germany. When a girl in the back got out at a stop before me( I always sit in the front because I get carsick in the back, and because the back doesn't have any headrests and neck injuries are the most common preventable injuries in car accidents, and because that way I don't have to be touching other people's thighs with mine when the bus is full), she said: "That was interesting to listen to. I always thought Germany was a horrible, scary place." She was Canadian. In your face, all you people who have told me that I overreact when I get upset about giving people a completely false picture of Germany when German people are portrayed as evil humourless fascists in just about every funny show or movie because none of these supposedly funny people have ever been to my country so they just decide to base their jokes on World War II which was over when my grandma was too young to understand politics!

The unfriendly half behave so terribly towards the new international students that I want to wear a shirt that says "I'm not Canadian, I'm German". Not that I know for sure that German shuttle drivers would be any nicer. But international students wouldn't know that, would they? Anyways: Way to make a first impression on the international community. Remember, those are the kind of people that Canada will do business with after they graduate. Let's scream at them because they only have a $50 bill, or because they confuse the Campus Tower stop with the Lister Hall stop, or because they do not understand your accent.

You #$%^@&, old, @#$%@, @@$% of a @#%!

@#$@$%!

"I hate malls.We have two of them in Iceland, and now they're building another one. It looks like a penis."

2005-08-26T12:46:00.000-06:00

Oh, the joys of working at the welcome booth. After a few strategic improvements, I have practically septupled my business.

What else is new and exciting? Stephen Lewis is coming to the Citadel theatre in its lecture series on Saturday September 17th. I'm going, and so are two other people who are as of yet unaware of their good luck.

But now off to the airport- there are scarves to be crocheted.

Best. Job. Ever.

2005-08-23T21:58:00.000-06:00

Yes, you should once again be jealous of the neverending joy that is my life. Why? Because I am currently working at the International Centre's airport welcome booth, where I get to welcome international students and help them out with immediate issues such as accommodation for the first few nights and how to take the sky shuttle, as well as with any questions they might have. Today was my second day. On my first day, I helped *four* international students in 7 hours. Today, I helped *two* international students, also in 7 hours. They both came at the same time and had identical problems. It was a pleasure to help them, and very interesting to meet people from Ghana, Iran, Egypt, Korea, China and India. For the rest of the time, I sat on a comfortable cushioned chair, drank coffee, ate my snacks, and read. I am already through with one of my readings for fall, and I am starting the second one tomorrow. Finally, a job where I can read for hours without being interrupted(well, other than the occasional "Do you know where the washroom is?")! And the best thing is that I can do it on a clean conscience, as there is absolutely *nothing* else I could do. I am so enjoying this that I am considering a career as a nightwatchperson. Sleep all day, read all night- why, it's like utopia!

When I close the booth for the night at 9pm, I leave out a sign saying "Welcome International Students!", a sign-in sheet and welcome letters with information on temporary accommodation and other essentials. When I came back this morning, a Canadian student had signed the sheet, and indicated "Quebec" as his home country. Now I'm left to wonder if he was just confused or whether that was a political act.

Why you should be jealous

2005-08-21T10:50:00.000-06:00

You should be jealous because I spent almost 12 hours yesterday at one of Chris Chan's infamous tea parties, and you most likely did not. I drank tea, peed, drank tea, peed(rinse, wash, repeat). I listened to divine music. I was told I had a ticket for the Feist concert in October. I played geeky German board games in the style of settlers of Catan. I talked about all kinds of current issues(this included hack talk as well as an interesting conversation with the director of the food bank, which I will not divulge according to his wishes-by the way, you look a little bit like Joaquin Phoenix). I ate all fricking day, from 2.30 in the afternoon until 2 a.m.-

bean soup with roasted red peppers and zucchini
veggie samosas with hot mango chutney
spinach feta pie
apple-zucchini salad
little rolls with a cheese filling(can't remember the name)
coconut rice with mango and other fruit
German Speatzle pasta
Ghanian deep fried bananas with tomato stew
Stuffed squash and zucchini
Orange and regular raspberries
Candied cantaloupe
Green tea ice cream
White chocolate raspberry gelato
fortune cookies
homemade brazilian toffee chocolates
all kinds of fair trade chocolate
cherries

I also now know a lot about all kinds of people in Wetaskawin- I tell you, life is one huge soap opera there!

Chris Chan also had the good sense to point out the best website I've seen in ages to me.

Now: more good times.

The Armoury

2005-08-20T03:14:00.000-06:00

The Armoury is a terrible dance club, with really bad music, and very boring people.

I absolutely love going there. About twice a year.

Here are some of my reasons:

-Vodka Cranberries are only $3. What an ingenious two-in-one drink! ("Get smashed while you take care of your urinary tract!")

-The girls dancing on the box are dressed like sluts and dance like total prudes. Why don't you try the other way around? If you're not having fun up there, and if you don't plan to look any different from the mass of drunk high shool graduates rocking back and forth on the dance floor, just don't get on the speaker for heaven's sake. The speaker is for true exhibitionists like my roommate and me. I'm not saying we are great dancers, but no matter what we do, we sure as heck are entertaining one way or the other. Which leads to any girl who is willing to actually enjoy herself up there having an audience with even occasional applause. And the best thing is, you'll never see these people again.

-The guys are so smashed they'll be brutally honest("You are an amazing dancer. It is so much fun to watch you. Could I slap your ass?"-"No. But you can shake my hand.").

-somebody like the owner's son(I don't know that for sure, but in my experience, if there's an obnoxious guy around who everybody hates but still everybody listens to, it usually has to do with nepotism)usually hits on you over the microphone. Tonight, while I was dancing on the speaker, the witty challenge was this: "The first nipple I see on the speaker gets free drinks." This led my roommate to jump off the speaker horrifiedly, while I pointed both of my arms towards the idiot with my middle fingers extended upwards. That got me a mild laugh. Then I pulled the next available guy up on the speaker and said, "He said nipple. You have one. Take off your shirt." Which he did. Unfortunately, the obnoxious guy wouldn't give the free drinks to the poor now-topless guy, and even ordered him off the speaker.

-the Armoury also gives me the opportunity to be really mean to a bunch of assholes. I'm not mean to everybody, and it totally depends how a guy approaches me- I won't usually say no to an initiated conversation, and almost never to a drink. But some guys are just sexual predators. Like the guy who was approaching me from the front and before saying a single word put both arms on my shoulders. That warrants a frown and a sharp "Excuse me? Why on *earth* do you think you can *touch* me?". I always feel very feminist after something like that(They usually answer with "Whoa, whoa, whoa..." and walk away, but sometimes they just stay silent with a really confused look on their faces).

Anyways, it's late, my feet hurt, my thighs hurt, and I'm tired, but man, did I have a good time tonight.

Tomorrow: More good times.

Germany and same sex marriage

2005-08-18T19:15:00.000-06:00

After quite a few occasions of reading in newspapers that Canada was the third or fourth(somebody refresh my memory) country to introduce same sex marriage, and me reacting to that slightly confusedly because I was absolutely sure gay couples could get married in Germany too, I finally did some research.

I was almost right. Yes, since 2001, they can get married, like everybody else, in a civil ceremony(in Germany there is always a civil ceremony, which is legally binding, and sometimes a religious one, for the fluff and the tears, or whatever reason people do it for). They get the same benefits as heterosexual couples when it comes to inheritance, health insurance, tenancy and welfare benefits- however, not when it comes to taxes. Funny how Germany doesn't want them to have tax benefits, when Canada gave tax benefits on a common law basis to same sex couples a long time ago(you can even get your foreign same-sex common law partner permanent residence and eventually citizenship), but minds if they call themselves "married".

Oh, and another tidbit about how scarily similar my home-Bundesland(federal state, literally, or province) Bavaria is to Alberta:

In Munich, the capital of Bavaria, gays demonstrated in front of the town hall against the state's attempts to block the law. Bavaria and the eastern state of Saxony have so far been unsuccessful in their attempts to persuade the federal constitutional court to rule against it.
But as the law went into effect it did not escape fierce criticism from some conservatives, who said gay partnerships undermined traditional family values.

I better not move again any time soon. Looking at the pattern, I'll probably end up in Texas.

My Ethiopian Food Experience...

2005-08-18T13:18:00.000-06:00

...turned out to be more authentic than I had hoped. Meaning that they were out of food.

I'm not kidding. I mean, I find ethnic slurs as funny as the next guy, probably even funnier, but they were actually out of food. All of it. We had to go elsewhere.

But man, it was funny. And I'm going to go to hell. Or they're going to withhold my degree in International Development if they find out. They really should.

I hereby also want to end all rumours concerning my favourite and only niece's resemblance with Sir Winston Churchill:

In your dreams, Winston!

The Funny Sidekick Couple

2005-08-11T15:57:00.000-06:00

Thanks to Daveberta and procrastination I am proud(and a little ashamed) to present this.

Go ahead and make your own. But remember, it's funnier if you don't let yourself be limited by such petty categories as gender and skin tone.

Meine Weisheitszaehne...

2005-08-09T11:22:00.000-06:00

...haben sich wieder mal entzuendet. Dummerweise habe ich hier keine richtige Krankenversicherung- Blue Cross zahlt nur fuer Medikamente und Notfaelle wie zum Beispiel Krankenwagen. Ich merke gerade auch wie schwer es mir faellt auf Deutsch zu schreiben- ich muss echt oefter ueben. English kann ich inzwischen gut genug um die Seminararbeiten meiner Mitstudenten zu korrigieren, aber mein Deutsch verlaesst mich so langsam.

Ich habe auch gerade festgestellt dass ich im Fruehjahr fertig bin. Unglaublich. Hat ja kaum 6 Jahre gedauert! Aber wie die Englischsprachler so schoen sagen, "time flies when you're having fun". Was danach kommt weiss ich noch nicht genau. Vielleicht studiere ich weiter- vielleicht in Kanada, vielleicht in Deutschland, vielleicht ganz woanders. Wahrscheinlich mache ich aber erst mal ein Praktikum- Afrika, wenn's geht. Und dann ist da noch das Seminar in Botswana naechstes Jahr, fuer das ich mich sicher bewerben werde. Die UNO probiere ich sicher auch, aber es ist sehr teuer nach New York zu gehen, und im Gegensatz zu den meisten Leuten bin ich nicht so begeistert von der Stadt. Zu gross fuer meinen Geschmack.

A propos Stadt: In meinem neuen Nebenjob, in dem ich mit Kindern mit Behinderungen arbeite, habe ich in meiner letzten Schicht mit einem Mann aus Bosnien zusammen gearbeitet, Steve, der fuer zwei Jahre in Regensburg gelebt hat! Er hat einen Universitaetsabschluss in BWL aus Bosnien, und war Vizepraesident in einer Import/Exportfirma. Nachdem er nach Deutschland gegangen ist, hat er unter anderem als Schreiner, Fliesenleger, und am Ende fuer Siemens gearbeitet. Er hatte allerdings keine Chance jemals deutsche Staatsbuergerschaft zu erhalten, und deshalb ist er nach Kanada ausgewandert, und seitdem Kanadischer Staatsbuerger geworden(dauert ungefaehr 5 Jahre). Hier wollte ihn aber auch keiner einstellen in seinem Fachgebiet, und deswegen ist er zurueck zur Schule gegangen, und hat Website Design gelernt. Er arbeitet jetzt fuer den Schulbezirk und managt deren Websites, und nebenbei arbeitet er mit behinderten Kindern. Er hat mir von seiner Tochter erzaehlt, die mit sechs Jahren nach Deutschland gekommen ist, und ohne ein Wort deutsch zu sprechen die Grundschule begonnen hat. Sie war Klassenbeste in diesen Jahren, und als sie 12 war, ist ihre Familie nach Kanada ausgewandert, wiederum ohne dass sie viel Englisch konnte. Trotzdem hat sie hier in Kanada eine Klasse uebersprungen. Steve ist nicht sehr begeistert vom kanadischen Schulsystem. "Die bekommen ja nie Hausaufgaben auf!", hat er gesagt, "und haben kein Hausaufgabenheft! Ich war es gewohnt von Deutschland dass ich abends von der Arbeit komme und dann nachschaue was meine Tochter aufhat, und ihr dann helfe. Aber hier- nichts!"

Seine Tochter ist jetzt 18 oder 19 und studiert Civil Engineering(Ich habe nicht den blassesten Schimmer wie man das auf Deutsch uebersetzt- aber die bauen Bruecken und so weiter).

Ziemlich unglaublich wie manche Menschen es schaffen immer und immer wieder von Null anzufangen, in neuen Laendern, mit neuen Sprachen, einer komplett verschiedenen Karriere, und trotzdem nicht aufgeben oder bitter sind.

Bewundernswert!

So, jetzt habe ich genug Deutsch geuebt.

Want to know what makes me cry?

2005-08-04T16:46:00.000-06:00

Find out.

An Adventure in OED

2005-08-01T13:13:00.001-06:00

Groovy, the loan collector said, and adjusted her nautical equipment. By the way, the new password is Learning Disability, she added. That's not a password, I said, it's a pass expression, or a pass compound. Fuck off, she replied. We continued to hike through the god-forsaken desert, occasionally engaging in differential calculus. It was exactly at that moment that the possum crossed our path. The loan collector dropped to the ground shaking violently. It's the possum, she croaked. I'm allergic to possums. They aggravate my Bartholin's glands. Sorry, the possum said, it's a free desert, and settled in for a pitiless nap on a green placemat. The loan collector continued to have violent seizures, during which her slouch hat came off. Please, I appealed to the possum, I can't lose her- I need someone to carry the nautical equipment for me. Fine, the possum said, have it your way, and stomped off indignantly. After the possum had made off, and the loan collector's Bartholin's glands had dried back up, we continued our mission to find the lost sloth bear. I told you it wasn't going ot be in the Kalahari, the loan collector bitched. I know for a fact it's in Vatican City. Or Winnipeg. But it sure as hell isn't going to be in the Kalahari. Why on Earth not?, I retorted. People lose their minds here all the time. And if you can lose your mind, you sure as hell can lose a sloth bear like nothing. I mean, what would you miss first, your mind or your sloth bear?, I argued elegantly. the loan collector nodded thoughtfully and continued chewing on her favourite placebo. Alright, she said eventually, here's my ultimatum: if we haven't found the sloth bear by Monday, you will water my flesh-eating begonias for the rest of their life. Done deal, I said, already imagining the slow and painful death of the loan collector's carnivorous flora at my hands. As we approached the next dunetop, I could see our final destination in the distance: the Fig-wasp Figurine.

(To be continued)

Posting, posting, posting. This time: Sex.

2005-07-27T22:48:00.000-06:00

I just finished reading my favourite sex column: "Savage Love" by Dan Savage(I'd link it, but blogger seems to be nonfunctional this evening).

Once again, he was *so* right, even though he went off on a slight tangent in his response. The letter was from a woman who had just recovered from alsmost a decade of severe cancer, and who wasn't very confident about her sexual abilities, since the cancer struck her in her early twenties after she had slept only with one guy. She wanted to know where she could find men willing to engage in casual sex with her to educate her abilities before going for the real thing, i.e. a relationship. The fact that she doesn't know that the answer to that question is "absolutely everywhere, just ask" alone reveals her sweet, sweet innocence. At the end of her letter she says, "I am at this time more comfortable without the nervousness of an emotional entanglement—so please don't tell me to just find a nice guy".

Dan Savage answers,

"Sorry, FSSS, but I'm going to have to tell you to find a nice guy — but one who, like you, isn't looking for an emotional entanglement.

You don't say so explicitly, FSSS, but the implication is loud and clear: You believe there are two kinds of guys out there. There are nice ones, those men seeking sex coupled with an emotional entanglement, and there are not-so-nice ones, those men seeking sex free from an emotional entanglement. This assumption is commonly made, FSSS, and it makes me lose my patience. Everyone seems to agree that people seeking emotionally entangled sex are kind and considerate and moral, while people seeking NSA — that's "no strings attached" — are cruel and selfish and immoral. But it ain't necessarily so.

Being in a long-term relationship with someone — whether you're just going steady, planning to marry, or already married — is no guarantee that you're going to wind up with someone "nice." Newspapers, divorce courts, and criminal trials are crammed with examples of people who found themselves emotionally entangled with cruel, selfish, and even homicidal lovers and/or spouses. Conversely, FSSS, bedrooms, backseats, and dungeons across this great land of ours are crammed with kind, considerate, and deeply moral people enjoying NSA/entanglement-free sex. Casual sex doesn't have to be cold, ugly, or diminishing anymore than marital sex is guaranteed to be warm, beautiful, and uplifting. That there are kind, considerate people out there searching for NSA sex should be apparent to you, FSSS—I mean, aren't you one of them?[...]"

I couldn't have said it better. A little while ago, I talked to a girl who had just met a guy, made out with him, and told him afterwards that she is saving herself for marriage (hey, I just typed 'saving herself FROM marriage'- clearly a Freudian, and shows you *my* attitude towards marriage right there. But I digress).

To cut a long story slightly shorter, she never heard from him again. She was hurt, and told me that "an asshole like that who only wants sex doesn't deserve me anyways". Insensitive as I am, I had to take his side on this. First of all, she didn't know if it was *just* sex he wanted. All she knew was that he wanted sex to be *part* of the package.

This does not make him an asshole, I told her. It makes him a young man who would like to have sex with his girlfriend. A relationship is a voluntary association, and if you are allowed to be attracted to him because he's goodlooking and he dresses well and has a nice car, he sure is allowed to be attracted to someone who will indulge him sexually. And if you still think that having sex as a requirement for a relationship makes you an asshole, I said, then feel free to consider me one too. I am in my mid-twenties, and if I met a guy who explicitly told me that he had no intention of sleeping with me before we get married(yeah, right), I would shake his hand and wish him a nice life.

Secondly, even if all he wanted was sex, this does *still* not make him an asshole. It makes him honest. After all, he could have concluded something along the lines of "if she made out with me on first date, she might sleep with me if I pretend to be in it for the long term". Wouldn't be the first time this happened to a girl.

Do you want to know what makes a guy an asshole in my mind?

1. Using deception to get into someone's pants, such as fake promises and "I love you"s.

2. Staying in a half-assed relationship just so you can get laid regularly, while knowing that your girlfriend has serious feelings and expectations.

3. Cheating repeatedly in an exclusive relationship(we all make mistakes sometimes, and in very aggravated scenarios, even cheating once can make you an asshole in my mind. Cheating repeatedly unquestionably makes you one).

As you can see, the underlying principle in HONESTY.

So, what do I think is at the root of this problem?

Once again, I think it's all society's fault. As long as sex is regarded as something that women do for men's enjoyment in return for emotional commitment and economic and social status, this dilemma won't change. In my political science class(Human Rights in World Politics), we talked about FGM(female genital mutilation, also known under the euphemism of female circumcision). As a heads up for people unfamiliar with this practice(such as the girl from the above anecdote was until I told her about it), there are three degrees of FGM: the least common form involves the removal of all or part of the clitoris and/or its prepuce(the foreskin of the clitoris). The most common form of FGM is the cliterodectomy(removal of the clitoris, and part or all of the labia, also known as excision). The most severe and invasive form of FGM is infibulation, which is the removal of the clitoris, the labia, and the stitching up of the whole area leaving only a pin-sized hole for menstrual blood and urine (the scar is forced open when the woman loses her virginity after marriage, and usually reclosed several times during her adult life. But I digress again. If you want to read a really interesting Autobiography of someone who went through this, read nomad-cum-supermodel-cum-bondgirl Waris Dirie's "Desert Flower").

I said, in my class, that under no circumstances should the Canadian government allow these operations to happen legally on Canadian territory. Once again, as a heads up, the argument here is that it's better for them to have it done safely at a hospital and with anaesthetic than in somebody's kitchen with a bread knife (and no, I'm not exaggerating. Sometimes glass shards are used on 12 year old girls without sedatives).

I am convinced, and said so, that no woman *wants* to have her clitoris removed. I actually managed to cause some controversy in otherwise sleepy classmates, who insisted that it's a woman's choice what to do with her body. While I couldn't agree more fully, the reason that many women want to have the procedure done is that they depend on it for their social and economic status, as they are considered unmarriagable with a functioning clitoris, and would be shunned from society. This clearly does not make it a women's choice, but makes her the victim of coercion. If we allowed these procedures to happen, we would have to allow stonings and other forms of corporal punishments to happen in Canada too, as long as the victim agrees to be tried in the traditional way(and don't underestimate the force of culture and ideology- this *would* happen). Humane stoning, medically supervised, paid for by the Canadian government, anyone? Maybe a little amputation for that guy who got caught stealing?

Also, while I am at it, FGM has no basis in Islam as often falsely believed. FGM is a cultural practice that is much older than Islam or Christianity, and is perpetrated by people of many religions and beliefs. Heck, until rather recently, we did it in Canada and other "western" nations- it was supposed to cure all kinds of things such as lesbianism, hysteria, schizophrenia, and most of all, that absolutely horrendous crime of promiscuity. If you were lucky enough to be in tune with your sexuality, you had damn well better hide it those days, otherwise your husband might drag you to the general practitioner for a cliterodectomy("Doctor, Doctor, she's showing signs of enjoyment during sex! That must mean she's doing it with everybody in the neighbourhood!")

FGM is just plain wrong. It is aimed at nothing else but controlling and subjugating women's sexuality and reproductive capacities. It is violent, harmful, unethical, sexist, and in no way do I believe that cultural relativism has any place in this discussion - I find it almost as horrendous that we let women cut open their chests to insert plastic pouches(which often harm the nipples' sensitivity, which isn't helpful at all when it comes to women's sexual enjoyment).

I mean, the fact alone that *women* challenged me on my statement that no woman wants to have her clitoris removed as a free choice is phenomenal.

Have you never had an orgasm, ladies?

Oh, god. Please don't tell me. I'm afraid I know the answer.

How it came to be that my academic career hit rock bottom.

2005-07-27T15:48:00.000-06:00

In the first days of class, my prof seemed alright. He had a very heavy eastindian accent that would distort the emphasis of many words; for example,"purchasing" would become purr-*chay*-zing, and "determining" would become "dee-ter--*my*-ning". That didn't really bother me at all though- having English as a second language myself, I am fairly inventive when it comes to deducing how somebody would develop false hypotheses about the unpredictable pronunciation of the English language, and therefore I could derive the meaning of what he was trying to communicate easily enough. Maybe it was the fact that I thought about lingusitics too much during class, or maybe I have suddenly gotten a whole lot dumber(one of my biggest secret fears), but for some reason I got back a 25% assignment with an abysmal 56%. Just for comparison,here's what I got in my other Economics classes: 9, A, A, A. It's by far my best subject, I like it the most, and it always came easily to me.

And it wasn't that everybody else did badly either- the average was a respectable 74%, with a majority of people above average. And to think that after a few classes, he effectively banned me from raising my hand, because I was the only one answering his questions!

Over the last few weeks, slowly but surely, the understanding of the material evaded me. He never gave definitions, used the same variables for real and nominal values, and didn't tie together what he explained. I never had any idea why we were doing what we were doing, but apparently, everybody else just chewed their way through the book(which I didn't really like either) to understand things. I read the assigned chapters in the book, but as he said, "reading the book only once won't do". Well, Mr. C*******y, it damn well should. At least I should understand the concept after your lecture and reading the relevant chapter. Especially in a summer term, which is effectively five weeks long.

To cut a long story short: I ran to the faculty of arts undergraduate desk and withdrew from the stupid course.

And so it came to be that my academic career hit rock bottom.

2005-07-26T23:41:00.000-06:00

I am withdrawing from a course. An economics course, no less. I do not understand this teacher.

My pride is in shreds.

"I'll let you out half an hour early, but only if you promise to go home and think about Stoning"

2005-07-12T16:16:00.000-06:00

Classes are back on. The new residence is finally habitable.

You wouldn't believe the things we found when we cleaned up the basement and the closets here: an electric pseudo-olympic flame, a fibreoptical peacock, two knifeblocks,

20-some dollars, 14 pairs of shoes, several bags of clothes, 14 rolls of Christmas wrapping paper, 30-some gift bags, roughly two miles of phone cable and 7 miles of, uh, cable cable I guess, two alarm clocks, five functioning lamps, an aquarium, a kinder surprise of questionable age, a good 20-some placemats(some of them Christmas, some of them season-neutral), 4 sets of curtains, a shark tooth necklace, a suit jacket, a Columbia jacket, a spice rack, binders, printing paper and notebooks, a dirt devil, a Christmas tree, other Christmas decorations, table cloths, an original Nintendo box(sadly without the contents), a handmixer, 3 glow-in-the-dark penis straws, a set of Lego, two black wigs, two bedframes, a microwave, several chairs, two armchairs, a bookshelf, a bike lock, blankets and throws, a mattress pad, sheets.

I am also pretty sure that list isn't exhaustive, but I am exhausted, so I'll leave it at that.

C.S.I., Third Season

2005-06-26T21:03:00.000-06:00

Screw the third season. Seriously. What on earth have they done to Gil Grissom? He used to be a gray-haired socially awkward pale geek who liked to play with bugs, and that was majorly hot. But Hollywood has caught on to the fact that their muscular young C.S.I. Nick Stokes wasn't really the one who caught women's fancy, and then tried to capitalize on that.

How, you ask?

By giving Grissom some tight shirts, a fake tan, dyed black hair and a goatee, letting him say smooth lines, and making all the female characters fall in love with him.

I mean, fuck that. As far as I'm concerned, Gil Grissom dies at the end of Season 2.

Do You Know What Arrogance Is?

2005-06-25T11:58:00.000-06:00

It's when you apologize for not having blogged for a few days. I mean, gee, all the pain that causes!

To His Coy Mistress

2005-06-21T22:10:00.000-06:00

...or, as I like to call it: Sleep with me *now*(you might be dead tomorrow)

by Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime,
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should'st rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
A hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze,
Two hundred years to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest.
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near,
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Not in thy marble vault shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honor turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning glew
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like amourous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

"Who Says a Woman Can't Be Einstein?"

2005-06-19T19:55:00.000-06:00

Well, I do, because Einstein was a man. And he's dead.

On a more serious note, this was the title of a rather interesting TIME article in March that I recently had the pleasure to remove from a Royal Alexandra Hospital waiting room. It was subtitled The Real Truth About Women's Brains and the Gender Gap in Science.

Apparently, Harvard University President Larry Summers recently held a speech claiming that he thinks the reasons for the gender gap in science are, in order of importance, and quoted from the article:

1) Women are just not so interested as men in making the sacrifices required by high-powered jobs

2) Men have more "intrinsic aptitude" for high level science

3) Women may be victims of old-fashioned discrimination

I'm especially liking the "may" in the 3rd reason, and its absence in the first two.

But apart from discovering that the president of Harvard is allowed to make blatantly sexist statements like that and still remain in office, the article talks about the newest discoveries that have been made in the last decade or so with and advancement of brain imaging methods.

Here are a few interesting tidbits, that I think everybody should reflect about a bit:

1. There are real differences between the male and the female brain- more than we thought there were a decade ago; after all, the brain *is* a sex organ.

2. These differences don't necessarily change our behaviour, as men and women perform equally on IQ tests. They might change how we go about solving the same problems, though.

3. There are some major differences in perceptive ability, for example in the retina: men have more cells that detect movement and spatial perception, and women have more cells responsible for determining the colour and the texture of an object. These different "feeds" cause real differences over time, as

4. Brains change constantly due to life style. This means that our social makeup reinforces differences and changes brain structure accordingly. For example, female students perform equally on Math tests in grade 4, but are left far behind by the time they leave High School.

5. Research also indicates that girls and boys develop regions of the brain in a different order, but in the end, there is not really an absoulute difference. However, since boys and girls are treated equally and are asked to perform equally at the same ages, girls start hating science and math and boys start hating language arts. These preferences contribute to identity formation and aren't challenged later on in life, giving the impression that they are permanent.
(On that note, when packing for my upcoming move yesterday, I found my old report cards. Math was always a tad worse than my other grades, but the first course here at University I aced with an A+)

6. The moral goes along the line that we should neither try to eradicate gender differences nor celebrate them, but create an environment in which differences don't become limiting and are not reinforced artificially.

I liked that article. That's why I sto...uh, removed it.

Apologies to Tim Schneider

2005-06-16T17:33:00.000-06:00

He had legitimate and unforeseeable reasons for not being at council. I stand corrected and hereby remove him from blacklist.

Surprise- The Pope is a Catholic!

2005-06-16T17:08:00.000-06:00

Alright, I admit I stole that line from somewhere when I read up on him.

A few days ago, the Pope spoke out and condemned not only gay marriage and abortion(which was to be expected), but also masturbation, premarital sex, and cohabiting before marriage.

Now I know most of them crazy fundamentalists in the American South aren't catholic, but masturbation and premarital sex are clearly condemned in the bible. Question is, why don't they put a law forward to ban premarital sex, making it illegal? And what about masturbation? Or cohabiting? That would be so easy to enforce! Every couple who wants to rent a place needs to provide documentation of marriage!

Oh, right, I know why. Because they don't like to have rights taken away from them, just like every fucking body else.

On that note, it is interesting to see that while the pope condemned all kinds of things, it is always the gay people that are picked on in headlines- read Dan Savage on this topic (It's the last column, but read all of them- they're quite interesting).

Oh, and Ratzinger- you are hereby a dead Kraut to me. Along with that nutcase Angela Merkel.

We Didn't Make Quorum So We Couldn't Change Quorum.

2005-06-14T19:33:00.000-06:00

That's just dandy. I mean, seriously, people, I have a paper due tomorrow that I have yet to start writing, but still, here I am, taking time out of my busy schedule to....uh....blog.

But, mind you, I was at council before that.

So:

proxy

prox·y [próksee] (plural prox·ies) noun

1. function or power of substitute: the function, power, or capacity to act of a deputy authorized to substitute for another

2. somebody acting as substitute: somebody authorized to substitute for somebody else

3. authorization document for stand-in: a document authorizing somebody to act for another person

4. LAW, STOCK EXCHANGE document authorizing vote on another’s stock: a document authorizing somebody to vote on matters of corporate stock on behalf of somebody else

[15th century. From medieval Latin procuratia, alteration of Latin procuratio, "care, management," from procurare, "to take care of."]

Now on my black list:

Dane Bullerwell(but only kind of, because he's already a proxy and therefore can't get one)
Jamaal Montasser
Tim Schneider
everybody else who wasn't there, but especially the last two, because they should know better.

Redeem yourself, I say!

News From My Writing Teacher

2005-06-13T18:10:00.000-06:00

So I ran into him in HUB mall today after running to hand in my paper on time, and generally having had a really crappy day that will turn into a crappy week. I mean, am I ever partying this Friday when all that silly paper writing and stuff is over! But I digress.

The following conversation ensued:

M.L(cheerfully): "Hey, Catrin, how are you? Enjoying your summer?"

C.B(wearily): "Yeah, kind of. I'm taking full time classes."

M.L.(half inquisitively, half jokingly): "So did you enjoy WRITE 298, or was it a pain to get through?"

C.B.(truthfully): "Yes, I enjoyed it. All of my other classes were more of a pain to get through than this one."

M.L.(condescendingly): "I mean, you did just fine, right? A B or something?"

C.B. (coldly): "It was a B+, and one of the worst grades of my University career."

M.L.(consolingly): "It's really hard to get a good mark in non-fiction writing. I handed in 50 grades this term and only one A-. Everything else was worse."

C.B. (sceptically): "Ok."

M.L.(small talkingly): "So, are you still doing some writing?"

C.B.(seeing her chance at revenge): "Actually, I did quite a bit of blogging about you during class. People loved it."

M.L.(raising eyebrows): "Oh, really? What kind of stuff did you write?"

C.B. (smiling): "Oh, mostly funny stuff, that is mainly the truth about what classes were like."

M.L. (looking to a side): "Oh. Anything else?"

C.B. (shrugging her shoulders): "I guess I'm taking playwriting and screenwriting next year, because there is only one section of WRITE 398."

M.L.: "Yes, I had actually asked the department to offer another section and I offered to teach it too, but they wouldn't."

C.B.: " Yeah, and I don't think I would like the teacher from what I've heard about her."

M.L.(with glee): "I didn't even realize she was back. She used to be on disability leave because she couldn't manage to teach any more."

Pause.

M.L.(adding, with disgust): "Her classes are kind of like art projects, with lots of emotional sharing."

C.B. (shakes head disapprovingly): "Yeah, so I've heard. That is why I'm not enrolled in that class. I read it on ratemyprof.com. Have you ever been to the site? "

M.L.(shrugs): "No, I've heard about it, but I've been told it's a waste of time since it isn't moderated at all and anybody can post about anyone."

C.B. (encouragingly):"You really should go there- I've found it quite insightful at times. Also, there's lots of stuff about you..."

M.L.: "I should start a site up for you and then pose as all of your former professors. I even know what I'll write: 'Calls drunk at 1 am from the bar to get extensions. I will not put up with behaviour like hers ever again.' "

C.B.(angrily): "Hey, that's not true!"

M.L.(cheerfully, trying to make a point): "But who will know if I make a lot of posts under different pseudonyms?"

C.B.:"I think you're overestimating how much students care. We're busy enough without posting made-up stuff about professors on a site that doesn't lead to any consequences for them."

M.L.(seeing that I won the argument, changing topic): "So, you're doing a B.A. in Political Science?"

C.B.(annoyedly): "No. It's in International Development."

M.L. (thinking: 'same shit, different pile'): "Oh really? Are you planning to go to Grad school?"

C.B.: "Yes, probably something."

M.L. (out of the nothing): "You should go to an Ivy League school. Then you don't need to be good at things, and doors will open for you just because you went there."

C.B.: "I don't think so."

M.L.: "You should think about it. People who go to Ivy schools are recognized just for that alone."

C.B.: "First of all, my GPA isn't as good as it used to be, so I would never get in. Secondly, I dont care about being recognized- it's not one of the goals I have in life."

M.L. "Be selfish. Stop all that volunteer work, and get that GPA. Once you're in, you don't even need to work very hard, you just have to graduate."

C.B.: "I find most of my courses useless and most of the papers I write are a waste of time. I don't think you realize how uninspired teaching is at this university."

M.L.(pleadingly):"But think about it! Then you could be on the Yale Rowing Team."

C.B.(incredulously):"Yeah, I, uh, don't see my life going that way. I'll see you later."

I'm supposed to write a paper right now, but in my research, I've come across something that 's too good to keep it from you.

2005-06-12T15:46:00.000-06:00

I am doing this media report for my sociology class, and I decided to do it on women's magazines(yes, I know it's lame and everybody is going to do that, but hey, at least I'll probably compare favourably, suggests my ego). One of the magazines I am analyzing for it is called bitch(It's a noun, it's a verb, it's a magazine- feminist response to pop culture).

When I first saw the title, I was mightily turned off, but as soon as I read the intelligent, funny, and sarcastic analysis, I was mightily turned on.

I mean, one of their articles is titled: "It's reigning men- sausage party politics and the rise of the dude".

Go buy one- Earth's General store has it, but I suspect you can even get it at Chapter's.

I wonder...

2005-06-11T23:20:00.000-06:00

Do You Even Know Me At All?

Attack of the Nerds!

2005-06-11T22:38:00.000-06:00

I look downright scary. My friend Cindy made us put these on at a party, and she had liquor to back her demands up with. After that, on our way to Scholar's, we were invited into some random drunk guys' backyard and played Frisbee with them, until they discovered about Steve and the legacy fund, and proceeded to sit him down in front of them on a plastic lawn chair(they were all standing) to explain himself.

Oh, fun and lots of wild gesturing was to be had, as well as blue coolers.

Yeah, How do men see me?

2005-06-10T14:51:00.000-06:00

Men See You As Choosy

Men notice you light years before you notice them.
You take a selective approach to dating, and you can afford to be picky.
You aren't looking for a quick flirt - but a memorable encounter.
It may take men a while to ask you out, but it's worth the wait.

How Do Men See You?

Which Superheroine Are You?

2005-06-10T14:46:00.000-06:00

'Cause I am Lara Croft.

My Element is Fire

2005-06-10T14:39:00.000-06:00

My power color: red

My energy: hot

My season: spring

"Like a fire, you are full of power and light. A born leader, you easily draw people toward you.
You are full of courage and usually up for anything dangerous.
You have a huge ego and love to be the center of attention."

What Element Are You?

MSN Pillow Talk

2005-06-09T01:03:00.000-06:00

Catrin - Rat Inc. says:
Oh, and I see you kind of borrowed my line of reasoning on the webboard...
Steve Smith - Uterine Blitzkrieg says:
On statutory interpretation?
Catrin - Rat Inc. says:
Yes.
Steve Smith - Uterine Blitzkrieg says:
I like to think that I came to the same conclusion independently, and that this just happened to occur after you gave me yours.
Catrin - Rat Inc. says:
I am saving this conversation for the record.
Steve Smith - Uterine Blitzkrieg says:
Okay.
Catrin - Rat Inc. says:
Say something perverted.

Schultze Gets The Blues

2005-06-07T17:54:00.000-06:00

...is the title of a German movie- supposedly a huge success at the German box office. It's about a geeky saltmine worker who loves to play the accordeon and travels to the US, where he falls in love with the Blues.
It's on every day at 9pm at the Princess. Will somebody come with me? I promise next time a movie about *your* ethnic background is playing, I'll come with you too!

Oh, and view the trailer here (Quicktime medium speed).

So I changed my format...

2005-06-06T16:57:00.000-06:00

...but I'm not really sure if I'm liking it or not. I definitely wanted green, but this is somehow boring. Luckily enough, Chris Chan is coming over tonight for cooking and I will somehow bully him into personalizing it for me. So, stay tuned!

Oh, and I knew I had arrived in blog Valhalla when somebody found this site by googling "worst blog on the Internet".

At my first GFC meeting...

2005-06-05T19:48:00.000-06:00

...there was a little reception honouring outgoing University of Alberta President Rod Fraser. He walked around and talked to everybody, and after a little while got around to talking to me. After inquiring as to my major(International Development), he wanted to talk about the problem of Aids in Africa from his Health Care Economist perspective. I happily obliged, and he made some argument about scientists not being sure that the retroviral cocktails really help- it sounded like he was making excuses for pharmaceutical companies upholding their copy rights in the face of this epidemic.

We talked a bit more, and then I tried to redirect the discussion to a more general ground with the question: "So, how do you reconcile the fact that under our current profit-driven research system chronic geriatric diseases that affect rich white men in industrialized countries are top priority, while infections and parasites that kill millions of 20-year olds in developing countries are neglected, because there is no funding for it and no money to be made from it?"

His answer consisted of "But there are endowment funds that support research on malaria..." Sure there are, Rod. For temporary prevention when we Northerners want to go on a Safari to Tanzania. And even if not, they're minuscule and not backed by profit incentives.

From there, our discussion went on to undergraduate education, and I told him how I've been trying to go abroad, but that we only have one exchange with Africa, and that despite the high costs of it, it is not backed with a single scholarship(The exchange is with Durban, South Africa, and the costs of flying alone are prohibitive. God, did I want to go there badly). Of course, the exchange is neglected in favour of "Go to Europe, get 2 semesters for the price of 1!" promotions.

Rod answered that he would like to give *everybody* the opportunity to go abroad, but that there's simply no money for it, but that if he could make it magically appear somewhere, he would. So I said, "Haven't we just been promised a $ 3 billion endowment fund? Do you think there's some money for sending people abroad?"

That was pretty much the extent of our conversation. Just 15 minutes ago, I saw this .

Did he know this all along? Could have dropped a hint, you know.

Ooh, Ooh, German Politics!

2005-06-03T16:47:00.001-06:00

So, thought Germany to itself, if Canadians can have a vote of confidence, so can we!

Actually, it was more chancellor Gerhard Schroeder of the left-of-centre SPD who invoked a vote of confidence against his own party, advising his own MPs to vote against him, so he can trigger an early election which he thinks he's more likely to win than the constitutionally mandated one in 2006. Unlike in Canada, elections cannot be called, and this loophole is the only way to get around the fixed date.

Also, for those of you who don't know about German parties:

German Parliament(Bundestag) has 601 seats total. A governing Coalition exists between the Green Party(Die Gruenen, 55 seats) and the Social Democrats(SPD, but they really aren't very social at all anymore, though still supposedly left of centre, 249 seats), and then essentially there is the opposition of the Christian Democratic Union(CDU, quite right of centre, 247 seats- and don't you just love how they have a Union in their name for good measure? Why, by that standard you might as well call a party the Progressive Conservatives!) and then the Liberals(47 seats) and three independents.

The CDU has also just made a woman their candidate for Chancellor(head of government; the president is merely the head of state and fulfills the usual purely representative funcion of one). Her name is Angela Merkel, she is from former East Germany, and mainly known for her eternal bad hair(which shows how sexist the media are).

Here's a little illustration of why I am panicking as of right now- and excerpt taken from an article in the Globe&Mail:

"She is everything that German politicians these days are not: a conservative, a former East German, an outspoken fan of George W. Bush, unmarried, unstylish, inflexible, female, boring...he[Schroeder] will be fighting an aggressive campaign led by Ms. Merkel to turn Germany's economy into a U.S.-style environment of low taxes and low benefits...Being both a woman and a Protestant makes her an oddity in Christian Democrat circles, which retain a traditionalist machismo that has disappeared from most other arenas of European politics. The fact that she is a divorcée and a figure who does not pretend to be charismatic -- she is famous in Germany for her odd soup-bowl haircuts -- lends her an air of authenticity that seems to have helped her cause. Recent opinion polls show that Germans trust her more than other politicians, though a poll late last year showed that people find her "boring."This summer's election will almost certainly be a showdown between her vision of lower unemployment and Mr. Schroeder's efforts to maintain Germany's social-safety net."

Somebody buy me a ticket to Germany! I need to go volunteer. For any of her opponents that will have me.