"I said I want to touch the earth. I want to break it in my hands."

I am mesmerized by Egypt right now. You have a nation of people that have unified and are fighting for their freedom. When you watch the footage, which CNN has going 24/7 right now, you have these breathtaking shots of what looks like millions swaying through the streets. Their chanting and carrying signs. We are seeing people fight for their freedom. Freedom. People ARE dying and being wounded but the military servicemen are forming protective squads around people as they walk through the streets. Men and women are protesting in the streets with their toddlers on their shoulders. The civilians are protesting but they're also praying in rows in the streets. When your government has removed all of your agency, what are you willing to do?


And they cut off the internet. That can happen?


And apparently a diagonal PMS streak is tearing through the US. Everything from El Paso to New York, SW to the NE, is gonna sit down after a slap fight. But guess where there is NO SNOW? I'm not even going to say it out loud. Two weeks. Two weeks.

paul+photos=moody. Flickr. 

Oh my God, what if I meet Cinderella?
Oh my GOD, what if I see a manatee?!


Happy Monday!


P.S ~ Links!
~ What a wicked necklace! You may actually have to look at the whole shop. *whispers* They have octopuses....
~ You have probably heard this song on a Chevy commercial. Real Tuesday Weld is awesome.
~ I think Helen Mirren is one of my favourite actress. She just hauls. And she's a DAME.

"And I'll find strength in pain, and I will change my ways...."

I just spent three hours on ConceptArt. Operation Avoidance is a go.


We just learned the Genitive Case in Russian today. Off the top of your head, with your knowledge of grammar and, in most cases, twelve years of schooling behind you: What is the Genitive Case? It's about possession which sounds simple enough. And then you get a nosebleed because you JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND. Although, I have discovered words that make me smile and I do my best to focus on those (to the detriment of my GPA): shapka (hat), kookla (doll) and greeby (mushrooms). I also learned 'Kah Chore-too" which means "Go to Hell". It was in my textbook and is therefore an important aspect of a functioning knowledge of the Russian Language.


My lovely, lovely friend BJ is learning Hebrew right now at Regent and every time she talks about it I want to learn it too. I'm not a genius at learning languages but I like languages and it's a struggle I enjoy. The phonetic, auditory aspect of languages are so great. I think French is beautiful too but I would want to learn REAL French, not the weird hybrid Canadian-French that just puts 'le' in front of everything and assumes that that makes it French.

Kurt Halsey. Link

I want to take this quote and paint it on our wall one day. We are not allowed to paint in our place (and I'm not totally sold on banners. Prove me wrong.) but when we can, adorable.


Ooooh Visual Artists. You have a skill I do not (and may never and I'm okay with that) and I will stalk your blog. Like Alberto Cerriteno or Bittersweet Enmi, DeviantArt and ConceptArt. In my gender theory class, I'm in the presentation group of Gender and Art so I'm minorly obsessed with various forms of art. Gender Theory makes me super sensitive to gender representation and how people are represented objectively and how they represent themselves. In my segment, I want to look at the representation of masculinity in post-modern visual art and I'm finding myself drawn to video games which is, as I have mentioned earlier, not my strong point. Studying masculinity may not go over way huge in my class ('It's the patriarchy'; 'why study men when they are so well represented already?'; 'Waaaaaaaaaaaah, you suck!' And then I get hit with a pizza.) but I feel that masculinity is in desperate need of a revolution. By virtue of the sexual revolution and the suffragettes, femininity has slowly chipped away itself and culture has consequently come to see it differently. There haven't been any relevant movements in masculinities since before the first world wars. We still carry around this Marlon Brando-Burt Reynolds, machismo garbage that everyone has to be James Bond and MMA all at the same time. Which if that's who you are, awesome. But if you're not that way and you're constantly feeling the barrage of not being manly, or being feminine (which is brought up as being a bad thing) what do you do? That's a problem. Dudes, you can like special face lotions if you want. You can be picky about glassware. You can take proactive measures against hangnails! That doesn't make you not a man.

YouTube

Just try and NOT be groovy while you listen to this song. It's not possible. It's just like "I Got Mine" by the Black Keys and "Short Skirt, Long Jacket" by Cake.


Oh and by the way, the more I learn about copyright, the more I think I am majorly guilty of copyright infringement. TGIF!

"Now I'm gonna dress myself for two. Once for me and once for someone new..."

I am officially a paid writer! Frig I'm practically syndicated!


Except....okay.


I wrote a piece for the literary supplement because a friend of mine was the editor for it. Little did I know you could win first, second or third place and there was money! Now I only won $25 but I won $25! This may be the largest paycheque I ever get from my writing but I am so proud. I will so enjoy that one Starbucks coffee. I can afford to get it with whip this time!


I need to take a moment out of this post to make mention of all the kickass bitches in my life. (According to my gender theory textbook, being a third-wave feminist, it is totally empowering to phrase it like that.) The Lord has really put amazing, dynamic and diverse women into my life that have gifted me with laughter, profundity, and authentic friendship. They's the best.


I have been waiting for a suitable time to get out and take some more pijjers this week but it has been so gross this week. It snowed mucus snow again earlier this week and then it's been "winter in Vancouver" fairly consistently. Slippery and overcast. So overcast that I would require our external flash that pretty much replicates an atomic bomb blast. I'm not that hardcore yet. I realized I haven't even made it down to Granville Island with the new camera, not to mention that I haven't made it to Coal Harbour, Commercial Drive, Kerrisdale or Stanley Park. Do I deserve to live in a beautiful city? I have by no means earned it.


In my Writing for New Media course, we're in the blogging unit right now, which just sounds funny. Stick something unconventional in a conventional box. Quick! "This is my three box set of Bansky installation art pieces. It was a Chapters special..." (although how sweet would that be). "This is the first of my University lecture series on Advocating Anarchism..." Maybe this is just fun for me. Anyways, the blogging is super fun to think about, it doesn't even feel like work. Our next assignment, however, is a collaborative gaming assignment. Which I know to everyone else is so friggin pimp but I just don't...get it. It's collaborative for one, which for me is frustrating. I work so much more effectively when I don't have to share. I was talking with my group about what we were going to do (which was essentially me having to stick my hand up their ass and puppet them by hand because they're awkward out of their minds!) and we were talking about RPGs, which for other video game illiterate people means 'role-playing game' and colloquially addresses video games even though it can apply to literature and board games. And then I asked, "Is that like Zelda?" And they just stared at me. And I felt dumb in my chair. Stupid puppets.


I know quite a few people actually that work and/or go to school in the gaming universe (all through Westside) so I can probably pillage -I mean ask them meaningful questions and they can point me in the right direction. I just can't do Grand Theft Auto, not for an academic assignment. What about Call of Duty? Or Assassin's Creed? Those are B-A in a big way, even for me.


Now go find somewhere that has great pie and go have a slice.


P.S - I'm watching the State of the Union right now and it should be majestic but I'm SO BORED. Where is Josiah Barlett?


P.P.S - I just saw a link for bacon jam. I don't think it's just me. That's sounds disgusting.

It was the year the crows and the locusts came

I need to edit my posts before I push the 'publish' button.

I could say that it's my attempt at stream of consciousness writing, modernist writing James Joyce style. The only problem with that is no one understands my consciousness, not even me and thus edit, spell check, and a basic grasp on grammar are a must.

Football and friends yesterday and it was SO fun (Way to go Hits-burgh!). I ate Moozh's kick ass chili and Munchie Mix pretty much all day long. And then I had a orange right before I went to be to convince myself that being a vegetarian did include eating fresh fruits and vegetables. And then I proceeded to have nightmares all night. I woke up probably every hour in a hot sweat. I dreamt I was in a concentration camp. I dreamt I died falling off a train platform. I dreamt I was hit by a semi (I've had that one before). And then I dreamt I tucked my skirt into my pantyhose. All in all, a terrifying night.

I just finished slogging through a reading for my Writing for New Media class that had mathematical equations in it. I cry FOUL. I. Do. Not. Do. Math. That is why I'm in creative writing. If I wanted to have a job that would require productive things of me I would have taken classes that made me do math. But did I do that? NO. Last week in that class we were introduced to Hypertext. Read through that stuff (If you have dial up or a PC I'm sorry you're totally screwed). When we were reading it my teacher (who is very cool) drew a diagram of what was...happening to the story. When she was done it looked like when you cook spaghetti and it gets all starchy and sticks together and there are a couple of noodles that dangle off the bizarre clingy mess. That's what it looked like. All of these nodes comin' off each other, it was madness. And I never get anything out of hypertextual stories. This is why I can never be Post Modern (and that fact makes me sad) because I need to 'get' things out of a story. It can be pretty words or a kick ass narrative, I just need there to be a reason that I'm reading it. Which is why I couldn't get through Ulysses. At all.

P.S ~ 2011 is shaping up to be friggin awesome! So many blessings being poured out.

P.P.S ~ I am so disappointed that at The Kitchn this week it's casserole week. Not even The Kitchn can get me friggin' excited for casseroles. I'm done with the potato chip crumble on top and the weird mayonnaise-based sauce. No thanks. And ham. No thanks. But how beautiful is this. How to Nourish Yourself in a Time of Sorrow.

P.P.PS ~ I am SO excited for this book! I has Russian people and it's written by John Vaillant so I will be talking about it until next Christmas.

Happy Monday!

"Don'cha put it in yer mouth..."

This is a rather jumbled post really only because I don't have anything rather interesting to say. But I miss it here.

I, for the first time, in my second-language education I learned how to say something that I actually do on a daily basis. Ya plavaiyoo v bassenyeh pyat raza v nedeloo, which means "I swim at the pool five times a week." So basically I'm fluent. I'm pretty sure that at this point if I ever died in Russia I would only be able to say Hello", ask someone what kind of music they listen to.

Tomorra is the foo'ball champyanships. I got all excited to cheer for a team that was the first to lose in the playoffs and while I'm not complaining, by virtue of my complete ignorance, I'm kind of bummed. But this means I get to cheer for the winner so I'm alright with that. I'm pulling a wife tomorrow and I'm mostly excited about the food that we'll be having. We're making chili (with a suitable vegetarian substitute) and CORN BREAD. I could eat everything from caviar to breakfast cereal on corn bread. I LOVE it. Maybe I should just embrace my inherent Mennonite-ness and make it a three meals a day thing.

Last night with some of our favorite people, we watched Max and Mary, which to all appearances looked like a super adorable claymation movie about two misfits that make friends. In truth it was (*Spoiler alert*) the story of two misfits that make friends with all of the most oppressive things in life attached. Max essentially eats himself to death and dies alone because he has Asbergers and can't handle being in contact with people. Mary is a genius with no friends that publishes her thesis on Asbergers only to be dumped by Max, the 50+ year old dude she has written to since she was in elementary school and has never met. There is a moment in the film where she downs a handful of valium with cooking sherry and then the camera pan to a transparent but rather spirited zygote wriggling in her uterus. Totally adorable and simultaneously so bizarre. At one point, Max writes to Mary and tells her about his favourite words.

My favourite words are:
1) inkpot
2) tickling
3) syllogism
4) ointment
5) Kookla (which is Russian for doll)
That is one thing that I prize poetry for is that it is so auditory, it is meant to be heard.

Dear Moozh,
Ever since you reorganized our closet, it looks so much bigger. It makes me want to stand in it.
Dear Dr. Dempsey
Thank you for getting me out of my head sometimes (like getting me to go to bed without brushing my teeth).  I love you more than food blogs and moccasins.

Wows, this trailers looks pretty. I don't know if the movie is gonna be all that great but the visuals alone will get me to see it.

I think that DeviantArt is rivalling Flickr for one of my favourite picture repository. I this this picture is magical.

There's this epic commercial on Food Network for a show called Restaurant Makeover and it has a quote in that I think is my favourite. "I come in and f***ing stomp on people!'

Here's to blog pandemonium. Happy Saturday!

"It's these failures and faults that hold us together..."

Okays.

So remember how I mentioned that I was a tad over my head in a science class I was taking. I finagled my way out of that one in preference of maintaining my sanity. People have called me a tad idealistic at times but the expectation that I could figure that stuff out was deluded. So, I've been harassing the prof of another science course that targeted towards doofy arts kids who need to fulfill their science requirement (namely me). It all worked out and I was all geared up tonight to go to it. I had add/drop forms and I had cancelled plans so that I could go tonight and figure this thing out. I am going to include an excerpt from my text conversation with Moozh (in the style of autocorrect fail):

Me: I feel SO stupid
Matt: Why?! Don't like this class either?
Matt: Can you drop with a 100% refund?
Me: Not that. It's Thursday not Tuesdays.

There were literally fifteen "ahaha's" in Matt's response, which after I finished slapping my forehead saying "so stupid, so stupid" helped me to laugh at myself a little. Whyyyyyyyyyy do I always do these things?! The miraculous thing is if you were to look at my academic abilities you would have a totally different expectations set. I think I pretty much butt-skip my way across the finish line. SO RIDICULOUS. In my morning pep talk, I convince myself that there are other people just like me out there. I need to find them so I 1) know I'm not crazy and 2) we can figure out a support group kind of thing. Or electroshock therapy.

By the way, I found this gorgeous song by, again, Brooke Fraser. Her newest album, Flags is uh-mazing.
                 "And better or worse
                              I am tethered to you."

And she sings with Aqualung!

She's touring the facility and picking up slack.

I've concocted a little project for myself. It will be stressful but at the same time, it SHOULD be tasty.

What I intend to do is cook through, alternately, the Rebar Cookbook and the Joy of Cooking. Matt bought them for me in an effort that my obsession with food blogs would bear something productive. One day I will cook from the Rebar cookbook and then the next day (or the next exercise in frustration) will a similar dish or entree from the Joy of Cooking.  There will be times of strife, ("Yeah but does it TASTE burnt?" or "I don't know what that means. I'll just improvise.") and moments where we have peanut butter toast for dinner, but I believe there will be moments of tastiness.

Rebar's whole THING is fresh ingredients and good whole foods. I've never eaten anything there that seemed really all that complicated but, as my criminal history indicates, it never in following the instructions that things go horrifically wrong. It's in the measuring ("Oh that says TEASPOON.") or the prepping ("Chiffonade? Okaaay....."), even in the clean up, like when I made jam and sliced my finger open washing the tongs. Or when I was making angel food cake FROM THE BOX and I got my fingers stuck in the beaters. Or when I was making a fritatta and I burned all the way up the inside of my arm.  Whhyyyyyy? Because that's my angle.

Happy Monday!

Things that made me happy today:
~Happythankyoumoreplease. This movie looks sweet.
~This totally is awesome. Especially when they write verb conjugation in Russian for you.
~ I never get tired of this song.
~ Mmmmm soup.

Beautiful Beautiful Beautiful. Link