Delusion-Elle

I don't generally post book reviews, and honestly, I don't intend for this to be a review. Reviews imply some sort of evaluation, and I do not think it even possible for me to properly evaluate this book, mostly because my thoughts on all fall within the range of "ASDFASDFASDFJL; AHHHHHHH" to even less coherent fangirling. Deathless, by Catherynne M. Valente, is the book in question. And yes, I really did love it. A lot.

This book pretty much shattered any delusions I had about my own writing abilities.

This is not going to be a spoiler-free post. You have been warned.

Deathless takes place in Russia just before and into World War II. However, if you are expecting a war story, you are mistaken, but only partly. The heart of Deathless is the world of the eponymous Koschei the Deathless. Koschei is a demon from Russian folklore who generally takes on the role of the antagonist. Valente's spin on this Russian folk villain focuses specifically on the tale The Death of Koschei the Deathless, but in a Communist Russia WWII setting. I am not particularly a big fan of Russian culture or Russian folklore and my knowledge in the subject was limited to the one demon Baba Yaga introduced to me by Mussorgsky, so I went into this story with very few pre-conceived notions about the mythos and the setting in general. Valente brought this taste of Russia to a level of accessibility that I not only appreciated, but lapped up. I made sure to read up on the folklore after finishing the book -- but only after finishing as I did not want to spoil any of the plot for myself. In hindsight, I probably could have stood to read up on the folklore as I was going because Valente's take on it was vastly different in some respects, although I feel that she kept the essence of them, and really isn't that all that matters? I won't go much further into the storyline as it essentially follows the folk tale.

Now, let's talk about that prose, that beautiful beautiful prose. It has been a long time, I feel, since I've read a book with such elegance and grit woven expertly into its text. It is clear that each word was chosen and placed with care. Valente is a wordsmith in every sense of the word, a master in her craft, sculpting a moving narrative out of words in precisely a way that may even brush perfection. The analogies and metaphors and imagery that she uses are a little odd, but it fits the exact flavour of the novel. A fountain that spews blood and a house that walks on chicken legs? Definitely odd. A committee of tiny house spirits, 3 bird-husbands, and a soldier-making factory? A little out there even for fantasy. And because of the nature of the folklore, it was only right that Valente's writing be... well, magical. In short, I just really wish that I could write like her.

The theme of magic is prevalent through the story, and I can only liken this quality of magic to that of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell and The Night Circus. This brand of magic is one that feels natural and is intrinsic. These are magical worlds, but not in the sense that the magic is the focus. No, the magic is subtle and it tinges every aspect of the world without anyone batting an eye. It isn't strange. It isn't gimmicky. It belongs. It's hard for me to put into words exactly how magic was presented in this book, but it fit, just like how Valente's word choice and placement did.

Maybe I've been in a bit of a rut with all these YA books where the protagonist falls victim to the self-insertion bug, but I also truly adore the personalities Valente injected into these characters (although, hey, this is "adult fiction" so perhaps that has something to do with it). The folk tales don't offer much about their personalities sure, but Valente stayed true to the stories enough so that these were plausible, fully-fleshed characters. I think that the thing about these weak self-insertion characters nowadays is that they are a cheap way for the reader to feel strongly connected to them; if it feels as though you are the character, of course you would feel a deep desire for the character to get what he or she wants. In Deathless, you don't get that sense at all. These are characters who cannot be pigeonholed as "good" or "bad". They say bad things sometimes. They do good things sometimes. But with all of their actions, they are driven by their passions, and I reckon that there is very little more human than passion.

I suppose that this did turn out to be a bit of a review, but ah c'est la vie. I have nothing but good things to say about this book. The prose is beautiful, the characters are rich, and the magic is thick. Sure, the storyline may seem a bit spotty at times, but the magic fills in those gaps of belief, because in the end, this is a fantasy novel. It may be set during WWII and it may be based on Russian folklore, but it is pure fantasy through and through.

I've never considered myself to be a particularly proud or patriotic Canadian. Over the years and after travelling to Europe, Asia, and all over the United States, I  have noticed that my attitude towards my own country has improved; never do I ever feel more Canadian than when I am not in Canada. I'm able to be more appreciative of life here: clean (tasty!) drinking water, universal healthcare, general acceptance of different cultures, and favourable reception in foreign lands, to name a few.  All that being said, there's still this inferiority complex with regards to many aspects of American culture and European history. But I digress, this is a post about being Canadian, and like I said, I never really thought of myself as a "proud" Canadian.

FOR MAPLE SYRUP~~~

Funny thing, though. When I meet people who live here, and have lived here, for a number of years who refuse to become citizens, I cannot help but feel a prickly sense of pride in my country swell within me. Why don't you want to become a citizen? You've lived here for years and years; you enjoy it, and I have to say that it is a pretty damn good place to live. There is no conscription, our economy hasn't tanked as badly as the States', we don't generally face all that many extreme weather instances, most of us don't walk around with firearms. What is keeping you from taking that small leap from permanent residency to citizenship?

After talking to and getting to know a permanent resident, the topic of "being Canadian" did crop up in conversation. The segue which brought us to the topic is irrelevant -- also, I'm not 100% sure that I remember it exactly, but I think that it was about touristy "I love Canada" clothing -- but what she told me came as a surprise. For the sake of convenience, I'll refer to her as Friend A. Friend A did not want to become a Canadian citizen. She had no desire to associate herself with this country that she had lived in for the last 8 years of her life. She was proud of her heritage to the point of prejudice against Canadians, despite the liking she had taken to me and various other Canadian-born folks (i.e. descendants of immigrants but not actual immigrants ourselves). She said that she saw few benefits to becoming a citizen of Canada -- that the big draw of being able to vote as "useless" as she did not care what happened in terms of politics anyway. I remember feeling a combination of things. Shock was a big emotion, but I also felt offended by this. What, was my country not good enough for her? Every other sentence from her seemed to condemn Canadian habits and Canadian culture -- Canadians were "cheap", the men didn't pay for the women's share on dates, we changed romantic partners as often as people change their outfits, the women don't dress nicely, the weather is terrible, and on and on. From here, the anger in me rose and thankfully petered out eventually. But this led me to thinking... what is Canadian culture? What makes someone Canadian?

We are a land of immigrants. Same as with the United States, very few (or none, if you go back far enough) of us are of the indigenous people. If anything, it means that Canadian culture is rich. We were shaped by the combination of England, France, and America's tug of war for land, and then we were settled by people from all over Europe, Africa, and Asia. We, along with the rest of North America, are so different from where our people started. Canada itself is a funny case. We are caught in a crossroad of sorts. Unlike America, we love our European roots. We did not have some grand battle for our freedom and independence, and although that means that our relationships with European countries are not strained, it does add to the weird inferiority complex we have in regards to America. Ah, America, how we love and hate thee. When times are good, we look to them as an example of what we could be if things had gone wrong. Otherwise, we spend our time wishing we had their glamourous culture and boisterous nature (as well as their currency and pricing, but that's getting into specifics). Our love-hate relationship with America is as much a part of Canadian culture as our politeness. Is that what being Canadian is about?

Yes and no. There is more to us than that. There is a certain image of us: nice, polite, simple folk who live in regions of great wilderness with eccentric habits. To an extent, I believe that this image does shape us. We strive to uphold these views, and really, they are not particularly negative. That being said, we only strive so far. I think that I've touched on Canada's mosaic makeup of ethnicities versus America's melting pot before, but I think that there's been a gradual shift in our culture towards the melting pot, which I think is great. I'm tired of a Canada divided into little ethnic neighbourhoods where people cling desperately their Old World sensibilities and traditions to the point of rejecting Canadian values. I understand that people want to keep traditions and certainly I support the preservation of culture, but at the same time, this is Canada. We have our own values, beliefs, and culture (as jumbled and confused as it is). I don't support the complete desertion of tradition, but I think that if more people incorporated Canadian values into their lives, it would create a happier environment for all of us, and certainly it would make it easier for the younger generation, which oftentimes is caught between cultures with conflicting values. I know that it's hard to accept change, and as we get older it only gets harder, but I have seen kids struggle with this discrepancy in culture and they will be the ones left behind in the dust. In the end, we are in Canada and in order to succeed in this society, there is a certain amount of "Canadianness" that you need to have because you know what? Your kids are still going to be graded according to Canadian standards. They're going to be taught in school using Canadian methods and they're going to be compared against other Canadian children. And okay, I probably really have no business blogging about this, but it just frustrates me to see people here who blatantly reject Canadian culture, make absolutely no efforts to fit in, and then they go and tell Canadians off for having Canadian values.

But then this brings me back to my earlier thought: what constitutes "being Canadian"?

I just feel a bit weird now since I've never used the word "Canadian" that many times in one blog entry.

I'm not sure what the point of this blog entry will be today, but it's been a while since I've updated this thing and I do have a backlog of things I want to write about. It's just hard thinking of them once this text editor is open in front of me. Funny how that is. I'll keep this post to personal things and any other content will be pushed to another post.

It's half past midnight and most of the places I frequent online are rather dead, so I turn to my blog to provide me with entertainment. Well, not so much entertainment, but something to do, at least.

As you may or may not know, I've been on acne medication, called Accutane (or Isotretinoin for you Science-bent folk), for a number of months now -- nine to be more precise. This was never something that I thought that I would have to do for my acne, which was apparently not as bad as a lot of people's, but since when I did get it, it would be painful and overall kind of horrible, my mom decided to take action and get me some Accutane. Also, she thought that getting rid of my acne would help improve my self-esteem. Oh boy, oh boy. I'm not exactly sure how Accutane works. All I know is that while I am on this medication, I cannot get pregnant (fat chance) for my unborn child would end up horribly deformed and/or disfigured. This means that I have to go for a monthly blood test to check if I am pregnant. If you know me and of my aversion to needles, then you know that monthly bloodworks is my own personal circle of Hell. That being said, I think that I am dealing with it a lot better, though getting shots is something I still have to work on. Of course, as with any medication, Accutane has side effects. Most of the common ones deal with general dryness, such as severely dry skin and nosebleeds. The more uncommon side effects include suicidal tendencies, changes in vision, a decreased level of hearing, depression, and liver problems. Lucky me, it appears that I've acquired at least one of these more uncommon side effects.

My mom thinks that I am depressed. Maybe I am. I suppose that when you're living with it, it's hard to say; it feels like I have been this way since I was aware of my own consciousness. Given that my mom knows me the best of anyone, I suppose that I may have to agree. My irritability seems to be more constant, and whether that's because I have recently recognized the ugliness of the world or because of the Accutane, I do not know. Regardless, this leads me to a point.

Since starting my co-op placement nine months ago (coincidental, really), I've been approached by co-workers who have commented on how I seem or don't seem to be very happy. I have never had this happen before in my life. People don't generally care or seem to notice if I'm being particularly happy or sad, and yet in the past nine months, two different people have commented on my mood. I understand their concern when I'm "sad", but it seems that they think that I'm constantly "sad". I assure you all that this is not the case, though it made me wonder.

I am not the type of person who shares particularly good or happy news with people. I don't like to broadcast my triumphs. This is partly because I do not want to rub it in anyone's face, and also because I feel as though it shouldn't matter if I share my joy -- if it makes me happy then that's enough happiness in itself, I derive no pleasure from subjecting other people to partaking in my own brand of happiness. Sure, if it's a large enough, universally-understood enough topic, then sharing can be a good thing and it won't be seen as a form of bragging to anyone. However, on the other hand, there are often times where I feel like if I did share my happy news, people just wouldn't care. They might act as though they cared, but if it's beyond their scope of knowledge, they probably would rather not have to feign caring. Or at least that's what I think.

I was looking at my Twitter feed the other day and thinking that perhaps my tweets reflected this as well. Oh, I'm sure they do. And given that most of my tweets seem to be complaints about things, I suppose that it's no small wonder that people assume that I'm unhappy all the time, though it still bothers me that they even assume that at all. By the logic that I don't tweet particularly happy things meaning that I am a person who is rarely happy, then most folks -- who tend to make cheerful tweets about how things are going hunky-dory and that their significant others are wonderful and that life is grand -- are people who are never (or are rarely) sad. As much as I would like to condemn this logic, I realized that I actually think in that same way. I do see tweets by people that are happy and joyful, and yes, I do assume that that means that things are going very smoothly for them in life. Sure, they have the occasional complaint here and there about how there aren't enough chairs in the library at school, or that they couldn't find a closer parking spot, but all in all, their lives look so rosy and fantastic... and it makes me jealous. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this social media thing, which just provides more platforms for me to be exposed to the self-highlight reel people put out of themselves -- the self-highlight reel that I often compare my fault-ridden self to. It's not good for my ego and it's not good for my self-esteem, but I am completely wrapped up in it, and it is so very hard trying to wade my way back out. I have problems seeing my own highlight reel, and perhaps that's because I am constantly comparing everyone else's best to my worst sides.

Regardless, this was an interesting combination of perception and assumption that I found, and I cannot wait to be rid of my reliance on Accutane.

I've neglected this blog again for far too long. I've finished the BBC Languages course on German, and there really wasn't much to it, but I intend on reviewing some of what I've learned in future blog posts.

German learnings aside, I'm also tutoring two high school students in Math and English now. Perhaps when I'm in the mood to rant about the sad state of English, I'll discuss them further, but for now, I want to sound off and, more generally, sort out my feelings regarding something I just read.

As I'm on a co-op workterm right now, I have a lot more free time than I would have during a regular study term. This free time has resulted in my inner bookworm being awakened, which is fantastic. I've missed reading a lot, and so this brings us to George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. Most folks probably know this series as the "Game of Thrones books", which, in all fairness with regards to the HBO TV adaptation, is not untrue. I won't delve too much into the story, but before I go on about the particular scene I want to discuss, I will give a teensy bit of back story (though goodness knows, if you aren't familiar with the story, it is not going to help you with the rest of my post and I am warning you to turn back now).

Also, spoilers. Massive amounts of spoilers. You have been warned...

On the continent of Westeros there was a dragon king. The dragon king was betrayed by his guard and most of his family was killed, leaving his two youngest children alive, but exiled across the sea. The throne is taken by Robert Baratheon, who takes Cersei Lannister as his queen. Their children are not in fact theirs, but rather are products incest Cersei committed with her twin brother Jaime. In the north, the Starks live at Winterfell. After Ned Stark becomes King Robert's right hand man, he is beheaded upon learning the truth about Cersei's children. King Robert also dies as the Lannisters plot to take the throne and Joffrey Baratheon, product #1 of twincest, takes the throne -- the little git! This sends the kingdom into turmoil as Ned Stark's son claims himself to be King of the North and Robert Baratheon's brothers claim the throne for theirs as well. This essentially brings us to book 3, A Storm of Swords, the book that I'm currently in the middle of.

The scene in question is called... the Red Wedding. What happens in this scene is that Lady Catelyn Stark née Tully and her son, Robb, attend the wedding of Lord Tully, her brother, to a girl of the house Frey. The Freys were previously scorned by Robb Stark as he refused to marry any of the Frey girls (instead choosing some pretty thing he met on a military campaign), which not only put a damper on the social relationship between Starks and Freys, but also the military relationship as the Freys are a large house with control of a certain geographical pass. Despite the ill will expected from Lord Frey, Catelyn maintains that the rule of hospitality will keep them safe. Lord Frey throws a great wedding feast and has Robb apologize to and dance with his daughters and granddaughters. His behaviour seems extremely kind and this tips off Catelyn Stark, and she begins to notice that a few Freys (who had been especially loyal to the Starks) are missing. Upon confronting a Frey about this, she, her son, and his guard are attacked. The Freys murder them and thus two of the Starks die. Just like that.

I knew that Robb Stark would die -- there was a lot of foreshadowing experienced by several characters about it -- but somehow I didn't think that it would happen like this, and I really have to give kudos to George Martin (hereafter known as 'GrrM') for providing plenty of hints, and yet still managing to pull the rug out from under me. I mean, wow. I'm going to go a little bit more in-depth so unless you've read until the Red Wedding in A Storm of Swords, I cannot guarantee that any of the following will be understandable.

The foreshadowing. Yes. It was there. And somehow I disregarded it. That's the beauty of GrrM's writing, I think. You get caught up inside these characters -- and after living chapter after chapter in their skin it's hard not to -- and while you're seeing things through his or her point of view, you can't help but want the best for this character, because they are so real and human. Robb Stark was going to die, but I didn't think it would be at the hands of the Freys (craven folk that they are!) nor did I think it'd be at this uncle's wedding! I think the bit about him leaving his wife behind at Riverrun was just another thing that threw me off. There were clearly defined hints that something bad was going to happen at Riverrun from the Arya chapters, and when I read that Queen Jeyne would be left there, I thought that she would be killed, and with Robb and Catelyn at the Freys', that would result in some grief on Robb's part, but already that was bad enough. I wasn't expecting the whole lot of them to die. That was just cruel.

Another aspect of the Red Wedding which made the slaughter all the worse was that Catelyn was already grief-stricken, thinking that her other children were dead. We were so close to seeing her reunited with Arya, so so so very close that we could almost taste it. Quite literally, Arya was just outside and maybe five minutes away. But alas, there are to be no happy endings for Starks.

It was really just so very craven of the Freys to do that. Granted, I adore the Starks for their strong belief in honour, but Catelyn's words about being protected by some hospitality rule had convinced me of their safety there as well. And even when Lord Frey's behaviour was uncharacteristically kind, I convinced myself that it was nothing. Nope, nothing amiss here. Just impending slaughter.

The thing is that I'm not the only one so devastated by this scene. If you search for 'a storm of swords red wedding' online, you will find many posts by horrified fans who were caught just as much off guard as I was. Everyone loves the Starks. They are the first family that we are introduced to and, for the most part, they are the only folks who concern themselves with trying to be "good", just, and honourable. We spend so much time with the Starks as narrators that it is hard not to love them. And as we love them, we know that we are resigned to having our hearts broken, a fact first hinted at with the Stark words "Winter is coming", and on to Ned's beheading. We want them to win, and we want them to persevere.

As one of my friends said, "You must keep reading if there are still Starks who live!"

I've abandoned this blog for far too long (again) and we've hit that time of year again where everyone has problems writing down the date and people finally start to recover from their holidays hangover.

2011 was a very trying year. Thinking back to last January, I can honestly say that a lot has happened since then. The good things included finishing 2nd year (not with flying colours, but with a somewhat respectable GPA) and landing a co-op placement with a company focused on creating products that I would actually be passionate about. I became closer to my friends during the summer and had a great time with them every Monday night when we'd talk and jam out playing Guitar Hero. They are such good people. I could not ask for a better set of friends to genuinely care about me. Much love.

The bad was, simply put, bad. I let my heart get away from me for a few months, and even now, almost half a year later, I'm still trying to get a complete hold of it again. My cat passed away, and even as I type this, I feel the tears spring to my eyes. He was a fantastic cat. I won't say that he was better than my last, but he was mine and I loved him -- still do. I miss him every day. Every time I remember him and how loyal and gentle he was, I miss him like crazy. The only solace I can get out of this is that he's in a better place with Grizz and my grandpa and they're all waiting for me. And I know that they all love me and they will wait for me -- just like when they were here on Earth -- until the end of time if they have to. They're watching over me and what keeps me going is just this weird belief I have that I am doing this all for them. I want to make them proud even though I know that no matter what happens, their love is unconditional.

Another tragedy to strike was the death of my math tutor, also the husband of my piano teacher. He and his wife had such a hand in raising me. They were truly good people, helping out with charities and fundraising, while still spending time with their family and teaching their students not just piano/math/etc., but also life lessons. He was so young, too -- not even 60 yet. I cannot even begin to imagine how his loved ones are coping with his passing. Only the good die young.

I want to end this post on a somewhat encouraging note, so I'll try to come up with some New Years Resolutions, or rather just a few small goals for myself this year:

• Learn German up to a basic level following the BBC Languages guide
• Lose 5 pounds
• Stop being afraid to write more music
• Do not lose myself in trying to please anyone else
• Curb spending (especially with my credit card)
• Read more books
• Finish proofreading my NaNoWriMo from 2011 & order the physical copy
• Don't fall for anyone
• Don't compromise my own values and beliefs and comfort levels
• Experience and live more

So, an update from me about how things are going. I'd say that in the grand scheme of things, life is treating me well. I do envy the people at work -- well-established in their fields and happy and stable -- but I'm trying to tell myself not to worry about them and my own future too much. My co-workers think it's funny how young I am. I don't feel young at all, and I certainly see no humour in being this age. The project that I'm working on has gotten much harder to make progress on, partly because the concepts are all completely foreign to me and also because my brain cannot function from the hours of 7am to 1pm, which is sadly a good chunk of the day. What doesn't help is that I have these (probably) unreasonably high expectations for myself, and I'm imposing them on all of my co-workers, which is very unfair, really. But enough of my complaining. I'm mostly okay. I just do not enjoy showing my work to people higher up... I don't want them looking at my shoddy progress and having it reflect badly on my project manager (who hired me in the first place). I really should stop caring so much.

I hate still being so tired after and during work. Some days are worse than others. I really must go for a walk every day, I think.

Going back to the short bulleted list I made last post about things to blog about, I'm going to recap what my experience at the Library Square Public House was like.

I was there as a birthday party guest. We didn't make reservations and there were about 20 of us so it was very nice that they managed to squeeze us all in without making us wait. The atmosphere there is typical of a pub -- dim lighting, plenty of TV's around playing whichever sports games are on, a bar, and generally a cozy feeling. Though the lack of space may have contributed to the coziness.

The food was... not very good. Or at least, my food was alright -- not really good, but as I was hungry, I ate it. I believe that I ordered a hamburger. On the bright side, the patty was massive and looked to be maybe an inch thick, but aside from that, there was nothing special about it. I believe that there was a tangy sauce, which was interesting enough, but I felt like it didn't do much for me or the overall taste of the burger. The appetizer I split with a friend was the chili squid, which was calamari in chili sauce. It was not bad, but a bit too spicy for my tastes. Though that might not have been helped by the fact that the only drinks I had were red wine (which doesn't taste all that good, I have to say, though nothing with alcohol in it is very taste; I think I had it to be "cultured") and water.

At around 9pm, the dancefloor was opened up and the place pretty much transformed into a club. The music was loud, deafeningly so, but I didn't realize it until after I'd left. It was 90's night, but I did hear a good number of more recent songs (LMFAO, I'm looking at you. And glaring.). The dancefloor filled up pretty quickly, and my friends and I ended up at the bar, where I had a 151. And this is where it got exciting. So we ended up getting the 151's "en fuego", and apparently that means "on fire". When we clinked shotglasses, the drinks spilled over and so did the fire. So yes, I was literally on fire, or at least my hand was. I'm still sporting scars from the burns, but the blisters are finally gone, which is fantastic.

After downing the (very nasty-tasting) 151, I ended up dancing. Much of the time I was on the edge of the crowd -- which actually suited me just fine -- and I ended up pressed to a wall -- something I was also very much okay with. I have to give my friends props for trying to include me and pull me back into the thick of things. :) That was so very nice of them. I actually quite enjoy dancing so that was nice, though it was kind of painful getting stepped on and elbowed. I ended up staying there until midnight or so, which I think was fine.

In conclusion, yeah, sure, I'd go clubbing again if it was part of a birthday event or something, but do I care to go again of totally my own accord? Not really. I don't really care to see people dancing sexily close to each other. And yeah, they're strangers, but I'd rather not see it.

Also, I don't know if this is true for other people when they go clubbing, but I distinctly remember thinking that despite being part of a large crowd, I felt horribly alone. And I don't really want to feel like that again.

So it seems that summer is officially over in Vancouver. We get the occasional sunny day, but as of late it's been a constant blanket of grey clouds, with the ever fear-inducing possibility of precipitation. But you know, a little rain never did any harm to anyone.

And that is why on a cloudy, grey Sunday, my friends and I went to Adonia for high tea. I went for afternoon tea back in London last year at the Orangery at Kensington Palace so my experience with high tea is limited to that one previous instance. Sadly, this blog entry will not be about this, despite the eponymous title.

Adonia's located in Kerrisdale between East/West Boulevard and Maple Street on 41st, so it's easy to access via the 041/043 or 016 buses. It's fairly small inside with most of the seating set up for small groups or couples. The décor is wannabe Victorian and screams stuffy, stodgy, and snobby. Not that that's a bad thing. That's what makes this so stereotypically British -- tea and teatime and scones and crumpets. Interestingly enough it seems that their clientèle is mainly (if not solely) Asian. That explains certain items on their menu, I suppose. As the place is so small, it was a little cramped with our group of 7, but we managed okay by being careful with our elbows.

The food was alright. This kind of food is not spectacular and such high expectations should not be mixed with pastries and savouries. Of course the highlights of the meal were the different flavours of tea. Since we each ordered the full-sized 3-tiered afternoon tea we got 12 little pastries/savouries as well as a pot of tea each. The flavours we got were Tiramisu (x2), Peach Nectar, something Macchiato, Chocolate Mint, Blueberry Yoghurt, and Earl Grey (you honestly cannot go wrong with Earl Grey). The Tiramisu was surprisingly rather tasteless -- it just tasted like very plain tea with a bit of a tiramisu after taste. The Blueberry Yoghurt and Peach Nectar were quite flavourful, though I thought that the Chocolate Mint matched its name fairly accurately. I still think that the Earl Grey turned out to be my favourite. Maybe it's because I like those creamy British teas (English Breakfast, Afternoon tea, etc.) but there were some nice spices thrown in there so I felt like there was an actual solid flavour to it. But then that's just me.

In other non-tea related news, I've now gone to see the last Harry Potter movie twice and I am slowly coming to terms with my childhood ending. Yes, I cried the first time I watched it when Fred, Lupin, and Tonks died, and especially during Snape's memories. Like, I was straight up crying, not just tearing up silently. Also, this is quite possibly the most awkward hug I've ever seen (note: this was edited to make it even more awkward, but essentially, yes it was this awkward):

Which is probably about as awkward as my hugs.

Also. My pursuer continues pursuing. The poor sap. I think that he's really deluded himself into thinking there is a possibility of something happening despite being an ocean away.

Today I had some cavities filled. Cavities that my dentist had found LAST YEAR, but decided to get filled this year. *headdesk*
So it was supposed to be 2 appointments because I had like 4 cavities or so, but my mom pushed to get everything done today, which sounded like a good thing to me. Except when they started the anaesthetics I was in an intense amount of pain. Why they had to stick the needle in my mouth for so long, I'll never know. What I do know is that whatever nerve they jabbed on my right side took out the feeling in half of my nose and my right eyelid. That was indeed a fantastic feeling. My entire lower jaw plus tongue were numb as well so dinner was a difficult and late ordeal.
The thing about my dentist is that she points out tons of cavities that need to be filled, but when this other dentist that works there and sometimes fills in for her for short check-ups takes a look, he sees little to no work to be done. I understand my dentist wanting to be on top of things, but it seems nearly fanatical. I mean, it's not like we have an unlimited amount of money for these dental appointments. .___." Yeah, my dad's plan from work covers a good chunk of it, but still.

In other news, after being out all day yesterday, I came home to find some money from the government (yay for low income!) and my ballot for the HST vote. I haven't been keeping abreast of the local politics as of late, but after seeing all of those HST stick-figure commercials during the NHL Playoffs, I have an idea of how I will vote.

It seems that South Sudan officially became a country recently, as well! Amazing. History is happening even as we speak.

And to continue with the topic of my previous blog entries...
"hey there love" -- someone slap me. I can't get over that. Who the hell starts a conversation like that? And then continues with: "i missed you, just sayin' >.>" Hon, I didn't talk to you for, like, a day. And the last two times we conversed, you only gave me 1-word answers. Though today is much better, surprisingly. I guess he figured out that my PMS can only last for a week (and yes, he asked if I was still in my monthly grump mood lolol). Oh wow, we're actually having a normal conversation. Well, as normal as can be when video games are involved. This is absolutely amazing.

ALSO. I really miss hockey season. T_______T

I am a very happy girl. I really didn't think that it'd help so much, but I think my piano saved me from a meltdown of sorts today. Man, I should've been doing this all along. And I improvised something very nice (Baroque-esque using a synth-ensemble patch, sounded kinda 8-bit; but improv'd so it's gone) so that cleared my head up a lot. The problem with summer time is that I have time to think and thinking leads to small revelations about myself and those just make me feel crummy. So. I'm trying to do something productive with my time.

I swear, every song is pretty much just comprised of 4 chords, plus another few chords in the modulation/inevitable key change section. But that's it. I've got "Judas" down (mostly, I think) except for the little spoken word section before that lovely little "I wanna love you, but something's pulling me away from you" section.

Also, my Australian pursuer has not spoken to me for 2 days. I mean, I'm down with being friends. But you can't just hop from smalltalk on Twitter to awkward one-word replies on Skype. Though now that I think about it, the timing of his responses on Skype is kind of strange. If the topic was "interesting", he'd answer right away, but all of the other times it's like he was trying to remain calm and collected. Which is stupid because he pretty much said that he goes gaga over someone with the attributes that I possess. I mean, once you say that, dude, it becomes rather silly to feign disinterest. Or if you really don't care, then maybe you shouldn't've jumped the gun on the whole "you should like add me on skype" thing. If he actually isn't interested in me at all, then that's fine. I can understand that completely. But don't give crappy responses.

Regardless, I'm feeling pretty alright right now. I can't wait for Monday so we can start working on arranging.

OH JESUS CHRIST, I SPOKE TOO SOON. I just got a tweet from someone. Like a couple minutes ago.
adsfasfdasfdasdjfk;. I think I need my Swedish friend to be online when I talk to this guy just so I can at least have SOMEONE on my side who can think clearly and interpret things correctly when I can't. Because I usually end up talking to my Australian pursuer late at night and my mind is mush at such hours.

Like right now. I'm laughing really hard at his tweet and I don't even know why. If he's smitten, then I'm really really sorry but his behaviour is just hilarious. Sweetie, we've talked for all of, what, 4 hours? Plus whatever disjointed minutes we logged on Twitter. But really. Actually respond with more than one word. Please. And also, use smileys/emoticons. You sound like an insensitive jerk, even though when we mic chat'd you sounded nice and we actually had a normal conversation.

I spent like 3 hours with my flute, keyboard/piano, and guitar today.
If you want fulfilling happiness, then that's the way to do it.
Still got the vibrato. Still can get in tune in under 3 minutes. Still can improvise. Still can follow tab and play "Blackbird". I guess you never really lose it.

I realized that if you take all of the electronic elements out of GaGa's "Judas", the song is fairly simple -- the vocal line is not hard at all to figure out (10 minutes max; hint: lots of E-flat for verses and the key is C minor) and from there you just have to do a metric reduction and figure out the chords. It's also not a hard song to sing. None of her songs are that hard to sing. Or maybe her range just fits mine a lot better than a lot of artists'.

My brother asked when our first gig is. I laughed so damn hard.

I also really would love to be able to do this with my "bandmates":

Also, I'm pretty sure that being "Forever Alone" guy is fine since hanging out with my instruments today was one of the best feelings I've felt in a long while. Hanging out with friends is dandy, too.

"[...] and thank you for being lovely."

I'm contemplating whether or not to go for a promotion at work. It wouldn't be something happening imminently, but once Fair rolls around and we hire en masse, it'd be nice to be differentiated from everyone else. And I'm responsible. And I've been here for almost 3 years now. Plus, once I pop into work on Sunday, I will be the proud possessor of 2 Spotlight Recognition cards. That must mean that I'm doing something right. I'm also fairly good at working cash, since the most I've been off by this season so far is $0.10. However, in a way, I'm content not having to deal with that extra stress. The pay is only a few dollars more, but generally everything negative that comes to me gets redirected to the supervisor. And with my co-op work term limiting my availability in the Fall, I'm not sure if it's totally worth my while to even try.

Also, my life is being consumed by Pokemon Black. I think I spent an hour today just trying to figure out how to make an awesome team using the pokemon that I have. Though I think I forgot to save that Notepad file. D'oh.

Now that the NHL Awards are over, it's really starting to sink in for me (as it does every year around this time): hockey season is over. Although I don't blog a lot about hockey and the weird fascination I have with it, it is a rather sizable part of my life. That's something that I can't really help; I was raised on it. My dad would tape games and we'd stay up late watching them, partly because I was one of those 2 year olds who couldn't sleep at night and also because my dad apparently loved that he could watch hockey with his daughter. Like, psh, who needs a son when I have a daughter who wears a Habs T-shirt (there is pictorial evidence) and sport Avalanche tearaways? Anyhow...

I've been up since 7:30AM. It's now 2AM and I feel like rambling. I was talking to my mom the other day about how I got that co-op job placement (because I still can't believe it) and she said that my dad had a part in helping me get it. This confused me, but then she reminded me of how he got me into hockey and how I ended up blathering on about hockey and the Canucks and the Bruins and Tim Thomas and the Canadiens during my interview. Yeah, I guess I wouldn't have been able to do that if I didn't live with such a hockey fanatic. So here's a look at my strange relationship with hockey.

The 2010-2011 NHL hockey season is over. It was a rocky season with ups and downs for everyone, but tonight it all came down to one game.

I spent my evening at home, talking to my cousin on Skype. Since she's back east doing co-op for a term, we've been communicating regularly during Canucks playoff games. I have to say that I love talking to someone knowledgeable and passionate about the sport, and she has both of these things as she's been a Canucks fan since she was 6. My excuse for staying in for the night was something between keeping my cousin company as well as studying for my Math final on Friday.

The game ended in a blowout: the Bruins beat the Canucks 4-0 with a empty net goal late in the 3rd to seal the deal. A part of me is unsurprised -- this trend of defeat is not foreign to anyone who knows the Canucks -- but at the same time this is crushing. It feels like this team, this franchise, cannot win the most coveted prize in hockey. The team was strong this year, but maybe just not strong enough. In this series, where the teams were so evenly matched it seemed, both teams won their games on home ice. But for Vancouver, those games were all very close, in fact, I believe that they were all decided by one goal. This was not the case for Boston, as they consistently outplayed the Canucks and made a fool out of Luongo. I won't comment too much on tonight's game as I'm not the right person to do such a thing, but I will say congratulations to the Boston Bruins. It was not an easy series for the Canucks, and it was not an easy series for the Bruins, but in the end, the Canucks could not follow through and the Bruins stepped it up. I remember back in the regular season when Boston would quite comfortably trounce the Habs, my brother would say, "Boston for the Cup!" I guess he was right.

In spite of all that, I found this interesting article written before tonight's game, which really highlights a lot of the similarities between the two teams as well as summing up this whole series. And in case you're wondering, yes, Peter Forsberg did play for the Nashville Predators. I had to look that one up. (Forsberg is synonymous with the Avalanche in my mind.)

The aftermath of tonight's game is just... well. On the one hand, I understand upset fans -- true fans. But a group of hooligans who don't care for the sport, who just want to cause trouble is something that I don't want running around my city, setting it ablaze and essentially destroying it. Watching the coverage on the news, I could tell that these were not Vancouverites. The demographics were all wrong. I know that we're multicultural and that we were the 2010 Olympics host city. Everything that I saw on TV tonight was not us.

Sure, these people are from the Metro Vancouver area. But these folks are from the suburbs. And I don't want to pick on Surrey -- I've met some great people from Surrey; a little rough around the edges but still really friendly and nice -- but after seeing one young man show off his shirt listing the different neighbourhoods in Surrey to the camera, I am not happy with the way these people have come into the heart of my city and wrecked it. Again, if these were fans, I'd understand it. But these aren't fans. These aren't even Vancouverites. In some ways this year's riot was worse than the '94 one in terms of the number of people standing around trying to capture the moment for the sake of social media, but at the same time, I think that there were fewer retailers affected as the action was taken off of Robson. All in all, it is a sad time to be a Vancouverite. Whether you are a devout hockey fan or just someone who appreciates this city's beauty, today is a sad day.

Do you want to know the difference between a Vancouverite and someone from the outskirts? This is what Vancouverites do. And the hooligans? I think it's clear what they do.

Tonight is the last night that the Chicago Blackhawks can be touted as the current Stanley Cup champs. Tomorrow night all eyes in the hockey world will be on the Boston Bruins and Vancouver Canucks. And it's going to be bloody exciting.

I don't usually blog so extensively about hockey, but I'm high on cold meds (again), and this is probably my last chance for the season. I am, in no way, an expert on hockey. My guy friends are. I am not, so everything said here should be taken with a grain of salt. Oh, and I'm only semi-lucid right now so who knows what exactly I'm going to be saying.

The Canucks-Bruins match-up is an interesting one. One, a relatively young franchise, though still Cup-less, and the other a part of the Original Six, having produced many great hockey players, though pushing 39 years of being without the Stanley Cup.

As someone living in Vancouver, I've gotten a very interesting perspective throughout these playoffs. Firstly, my #1 team, Detroit, was eliminated in the second round, so I was able to take a step back and observe things from a slightly less heady point of view. Don't get me wrong, I most certainly do follow the Canucks. It's just that my first love is for the Red Wings. Canucks and Habs are probably next. Firstly, the Canucks bandwagon has exploded, and this is an issue that I am torn about. On the one hand, I love to see people (seemingly) passionate about the sport. I've grown up watching hockey, it's always been a constant in my life (minus the lockout year), and I am excited to see people embracing hockey. I mean, as fans, everyone's got to start somewhere, and the Canucks' fated playoffs run has brought this city together. On the other hand, I cringe at people new to the sport commentating as though they know the sport inside and out. I've also witnessed newly proclaimed Canucks fans call other new fans "bandwagoners". To me, this is ridiculous. Unless you've been with this team through the ups and down, through the West Coast Express years, through Linden's retirement, and the Bertuzzi-Moore incident, are you really truly a fan?

I certainly understand "jumping onto the bandwagon". It's just that I want to know whether you are going to jump right back off, or if you are delusional and therefore uneducated about the sport, or if you really do want to get into hockey. The fact that there are so many uneducated -- and I am using this term loosely -- "fans" irks me to no end. Again, I understand wanting to be a part of this great excitement and trying to get into this sport, but you have to do your homework. I'm going to liken it to becoming a fan of a certain band or artist: if you're a fan, you know the band inside and out -- you know the names of the members and you've gone through the trouble of looking them up because you are hungry for information about them, because you want to be able to converse with other intelligent fans, such as yourself. It's exactly the same with any sports organization.

Bandwagoning aside, it's been highlighted how "unclassy" the Boston fans are. My response to that is: look in the mirror. First of all, hockey is not a classy sport. Sure, you do have classy players -- Lidstrom comes to mind -- and you can have classy coaches and classy fans, but at the end of the day, hockey is a contact sport. It is physical and people who are fans, especially in areas where hockey is not the biggest market, are insanely passionate about their teams. On both sides the antics have been downright horrid at times. Of course, diehard fans will defend their teams' fans, but again, as someone who is not a "diehard" Canucks or Bruins fan, I see the classlessness and "dirtiness" of both sides. If you look and don't turn a blind eye, I assure you that it is indeed there.

What with all of the injuries sidelining players, I figure that I'd may as well comment on those as well. Yes, this does tie in directly with the fans' behaviour, but I want to look at all of the finger-pointing Canucks nation has been doing. The Bruins are an Original Six team. I feel like this is something we should remember sometimes. It means that their fans, their diehard fans, are absolutely nuts about their team, and for good reason with that rich history, and of course Bobby Orr. We mustn't forget about that man. That all aside, it seems to be a general consensus that both sides wish the best for all of the injured players. The Rome hit was an open ice, to-the-head hit. Rome left the ice. Horton was down and out. I hate to blame the victim, but yes, he probably should've had his head up. That being said, Horton was one of their star players in these playoffs. Boston definitely came out of this incident the losers. Hamhuis is out, for something undisclosed, and now we come to the Boychuk hit on Mason Raymond. From what I saw, the hit, albeit late, really did not look very bad. Yes, the positioning was definitely awkward, but as far as I know, it wasn't a hit to the head, and really, it was all just very bad luck and unfortunate. It's horrible that MayRay will be out for 3-4 months because of this, but it was bad timing and bad positioning. It was hard to tell what exactly had gone wrong.

When the fans were chanting and jeering just after the hit on Raymond, I know that Canucks fans were truly incensed. "Flopper", the Boston crowd called. From what I've read off of various hockey blogs by writers in love with teams all around the league, I have to say that the Canucks are seen as a team of divers and floppers. It's not me saying it, it's what everyone else is saying. I personally believe that the Canucks team this year is extremely talented; they're the right combination at the right time, and I honestly think that this group has what it takes to end the 40-year long drought. Back to the Boston fans jeering, a part of me felt that this was in bad taste (though I have to go back to what I said about hockey not being classy), but after reading a piece by a Boston fan, I can understand what went through their minds. The hit, like I said, really did not look all that dangerous. Awkward, yes. But there was no way to know just how serious the injury was. Heck, no one knew just how bad until the word came back from the medical staff at the hospital. And given all of this, I do see where the NHL is coming from with the calls they made. I don't necessarily agree with them -- I mean, Horton is up and walking around and I really don't want to bring up the Chara-Pacioretty hit -- but I see the logic behind it, as flawed and inconsistent as it may be. But then, Canucks fans, do you really want to dig into the Burrows biting incident?

At the ends of the ice, we of course have two stellar goalies. I'm not going to deny the success that Luongo's had this season and his acquisition of a gold medal at the Olympics. Those are all facts -- the numbers and the medal. But his performance in the Finals have left much to be desired. What bothers me about Luongo is the fact that he often pins the blame on someone else -- what was it, Game 4 or so when he blamed Salo for a goal he himself let in because according to Luongo, "when the puck hit Salo, it dropped 3 feet" -- and he tends to run at the mouth when it comes to the media. Okay, so he commented on Tim Thomas letting in a goal that he, Luongo, would've have been able to save because he, Luongo, doesn't play with Thomas' aggressive style. I don't want to look into that and yell "arrogant!", but it's hard to take his statement seriously when he's let in so many goals at TD Garden and has been pulled twice now in this series. If playing in the paint would've made that save for Thomas, how's that tactic holding up for you, Luongo? Beyond that one statement on Thomas' playing style, Luongo has also stated that he is unhappy about the lack of complimenting Thomas has done on his, Luongo's, playing. The fact that Luongo has praised Thomas is not something that I am going to say is either good or bad. Luongo chose to say that, and whether he was just baiting Thomas or he truly felt inclined to compliment his opponent is not something I know. But to expect Tim "Sassy" Thomas to "pump his tires" in turn is just... it's funny. Whenever Luongo has a bad game and Thomas is asked to comment, he merely declines to answer. Tim Thomas remains neutral. He won't say bad things about Luongo, but he won't go out of his way to say good things. And really, he shouldn't be expected to praise his opponent. Thomas has already said that as a goaltender himself, he respects all of the goalies he's come up against because he knows what it's like, he understands the pressure.

I myself am a Tim Thomas fan. I find it hard to dislike the guy. He's 37 years old, and he's worked his butt off to make it where he is. As quoted by a writer for ESPN:

Tim Thomas is 37, a 217th overall draft pick who toiled for years in the minors and in Europe, who had to fight and scratch and claw for a chance at a starting job, which he did not earn until he was 31. His livelihood was in question as early as this past season, when he underwent hip surgery that threatened to derail his future.

A part of me definitely feels like this man deserves a Cup. But at the same time, this Canucks team has done incredibly. Despite having Luongo in net. One comment I heard on Team 1040 radio last night (as my dad turned it on just before sleeping) was this:

For getting $10 million a year, this shows us that Luongo can't play in every arena. Back when Patrick Roy was having that spectacular year, did he have arenas that he couldn't play in?

Indeed this is something to think about. $10 million a year. And what did he spend 50 minutes doing last game? He sat on the bench.

Beyond Luongo, I actually do love Schneider. He's played very solidly when he's been called upon, and I hate to see him go, as will most probably happen. He's too good to just be Luongo's backup. He's also been blogging during the Playoffs and he seems like a funny and intelligent man.

And yes, maybe it does seem like I'm defending the Bruins more in this post, but believe me, I most definitely feel like they are the underdogs in this series. The Canucks have a great chemistry this season, and when they play well, they play really well, despite the refereeing and injuries. However, Boston is a team that just lost one of their star players, and from seeing them play against the Habs, they are a team that perseveres. Sure, they choked last year, but with Tim Thomas at the helm, they've managed to get to Game 7 of the Finals.

One game. One goal. One Cup. All it takes is one. But will we end up being the ones left in the Cup drought again?

One thing is for sure: whoever gets the Cup tomorrow night will have deserved it.

Sun in the sky, you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Right, so I think that I've gotten myself into a relatively happy patch right now. Which probably explains the lack of updates; I blog when I have something to share or if I have worries that I only want to broadcast to a select readership.

The first thing that I want to mention is that I really do love the Scandinavia and the World comics. I found them on deviantArt and I have spent far too many hours going through them all. What I love is how they're actually fairly educational, but also funny in how they poke fun at different country's stereotypes and images. I was up until 3AM last night learning about this little island called Hans Island that Canada and Denmark fight over. And really, it is probably the tamest fight in the history of fights. Canada and Denmark take turns re-erecting their flags on this tiny island and, hell, sometimes even leave a bottle of whiskey there for the other country.
So yes, I basically stayed up until 3AM to read up on some history. If that doesn't make me the epitome of "geek", I don't know what does.

Also, I miss writing so I'm warning you that a long, rambly, verbose blog entry lies ahead full of details of my life...

I haven't been feeling 100% since about Monday of last week. So that, plus the busy-ness of schoolwork and co-op preparation has made me lazy in terms of blogging; micro-blogging has just been a lot easier.

Entering the Stanley Cup Finals, I'm sad that there isn't hockey on every day. I mean, the next game isn't until Wednesday. What am I going to do with myself until then?

Catch up on House episodes? Did that yesterday.

Do Math homework? It's due Tuesday.

Apply to more co-op jobs is another option, I guess, though, I'm feeling pretty discouraged right now by the number of interviews that haven't resulted in anything. What a contrast compared to all the interviews I've been through before for those summer jobs and seasonal positions.

Oh, and to top it all, my desktop's USB ports won't detect any devices. At all. I've restarted my computer and whatnot, but I think that a fix will have to do with hardware, and that, I'll leave to my dad. Though, what with co-op job searches going on, and several tabs open with job postings that I'm interested in, I'm loathed to shut my computer down and actually let my dad work on it.

I'm feeling kind of woozy right now, so I think I'll go back to bed.

I just spent the last 10 minutes staring at pictures of my favourite hockey players. Someone help me.

Once again it has been far too long since my last blog entry. I feel that with my short attention span and love of instant gratification I have been spending much more time on Tumblr. It probably doesn't help that I am pretty darn busy these days.

A standard day for me used to be this:

9:30am: wake up
10:00am: procrastinate online
11:00am: play Heart's "Alone" on piano + random movie soundtracks
12:00pm: eat lunch
12:30pm: go to school
5:00pm: arrive back at home + watch hockey
6:00pm: eat dinner
8:00pm: do homework
12:00am: sleep

But now my life has been flipped, turned upside down. I have 3 interviews for co-op coming up, one on the 19th, one on the 20th, and one on the 27th. Two of them are IT support type jobs for the federal government, and the last is actually for the Engineering faculty at school to work on their web courseware. I'm most keen on the school one (strangely enough -- I mean, how much more unglamourous can you get?), but the interview for that isn't until the 27th. I'm just freaking out over what these next few weeks will be like, what with interviews, school, work, driving lessons, applying to more jobs, and trying not to be totally anti-social.

Not going to lie, I felt like throwing up today when I found out that my interview on the 19th would force me to miss school and was less than 24 hours before my interview on the 20th. Good thing I hadn't eaten yet.

If I had one of these right now, it'd be a huge patch of unhappy.

WARNING: long, somewhat personal, soul-baring diatribe ahead.

I went into this telling myself that whatever the first offer I got (should I get one at all), I would accept it. Really, that's how co-op works, anyway. Once you apply for a position, presumably you do want it and so it is expected that should you be offered a position, you would accept it. And really, I did want the jobs when I first applied for them. But having talked to my coordinator today, she asked how many IT support jobs I had applied for with implications abound that I should not have applied for them, that I could land an actual coding gig. She's always emphasized aiming and shooting high -- "I'd rather you say more about yourself and really sell yourself and have to hold you back than you saying too little" -- and I feel as though she's got her bar of expectations set this high while I am really only aiming for something below that. And honestly, my confidence and self-esteem is probably 6 feet below that.

I really had no (emotional) problems before talking to her about those IT jobs. Now I feel regret. Like I shouldn't have applied to them.

But on the other hand, I really don't have any job experience with computers, not in the IT field or the coding field. I mean, yes, ideally I would get a nice little web developer job and look at HTML and CSS all day, but "ideally" tends to pass right by me.

The bad thing about co-op in my faculty is that it's at my own pace and I'm very much at the mercy of the employers. If I get an offer from job A and just barely handed in my application for my dream job, job X, then I'm kind of stuck with job A. My mom just told me to look at it like this is just the beginning of my co-op career. Yeah, these positions are for 8 months, but that's only 2 work terms and I need a minimum of 4.

"Next time," she tells me.  "Next time you can be a little pickier and go for the coding ones."

In terms of applying for things, I think that I've applied to around 11 jobs now. The deadlines for maybe half of them have passed, and of those 6 or so, I've gotten 3 interviews. That's not bad, really. I'm rather surprised. And if it weren't for the current remorse/regret/guilt trip that I'm currently on, I'd be really pleased with those results. There haven't been any really exotic positions that have come up (I think the closest was a general posting for IBM saying "go check their site", though their only positions in Europe are in Italy [WHY COULDN'T IT BE FRANCE? OF ALL THE ROMANCE LANGUAGES. HONESTLY. THEY WANT SOMEONE FLUENT IN ITALIAN. MIO DIO.] and Israel), though I'm working on applications for positions in Ontario and Quebec.

How cool would it be to work for RIM in Mississauga or EA in Montreal? My brother is already (and falsely) saying "When you're gone..." to me and lamenting how sad he'll be, which is really kind of adorable and endearing. He says that I have to Skype him every day, and of course he tries to cover up his sappiness by saying "Because you'll need to ask me for recipes and on how to cook because you can't do it by yourself". Haha, what a cute kid.

And really, that's better than my dad who says "If you're going, then we're moving there." Really, dad, really? You of all people?! I guess my mom was right when she told me that my dad and brother always whined about me not being home that often during the school year. And then he got all excited about how if I get a position in Montreal and we move there that we could go to Habs games and have lots of fun and yaddi yaddi yadda.

My family. Honestly. They need to get a grip. It's not even like I do anything at home. I just sit at my computer and argue with people.

So yeah. This is going to be a fun couple of weeks. I feel like rolling up into a ball and just dying. Or playing in traffic. On Knight Street. With all the cargo trucks. Fun fun fun.

It feels like ages since I last blogged on here.
But really, that's because nothing much has happened in my life.

I spend my time either watching hockey (which someone pointed out to me meant spending 6 hours a day glued to my TV), applying to job postings for Co-op, playing video games, going for driving lessons, eating, sleeping, or writing. 'Tis a sad existence. But school is starting back up again for summer term on Tuesday for me so I guess that will cut down on my time for... everything.

Sadly, hockey is the most exciting thing in my life right now. The Habs are out now, but I'm still following the Canucks and Red Wings, though I foresee the Red Wings being knocked out very shortly (much to my chagrin).

I suppose that applying to job postings is somewhat exciting, though reading the requirements just makes me go "WHY AM I SO INADEQUATE?", but oh well. My coordinator said to apply for a job, you really only need 50% of what they're asking for. Nothing really exotic's come up, the most exotic postings being for companies in Boise, Idaho, and Cupertino, California (Apple, which is pretty freaking exciting). In terms of the companies making the postings, there are some fairly well-known companies (Capcom, Demonware, etc.) with facilities in the Lower Mainland here so that'd be good for my wallet. God knows I probably would die if I had to live by myself right now. I'd be awake until the wee hours of the morning all the time. There are some postings for jobs in Ontario that sound pretty interesting. And if I do end up in Ontario, at least that's still in Canada so it's still kind of "home" (meh, sorta), and since I haven't been back East, that'd be pretty fascinating. Ontario's where all the action is.

I'm actually spending a lot more time on Tumblr nowadays. It's so easy to get sucked in. It probably doesn't help that I actually run a blog on there now with a decent amount of followers (a whopping 175! In like a week and a half or so?). So if you're ever curious as to what I and my followers (who submit things) deem to be Vancouver-exclusive sorts of things (and my judgment is way off sometimes, I know), then feel free to pop on over. Or you can go to my personal tumblr (see link in sidebar) if you care to see what kind of useless crap I'm interested in or am whining about currently.

I found this article on Cracked today about the 5 "shocking" ways in which we overestimate ourselves. It kind of surprised me that I didn't find any of it surprising (yay for confusing sentences!). I recently came to the conclusion that human beings are inherently selfish. Sure, people share and do things for others as a way of being nice, but in the end, who are we all looking out for? Number One, that's who. Because no matter how much you care about someone and what is going on in their life, you cannot think nonstop about them. You just can't. In the end, you really just don't care all that much, especially compared to yourself. But it's 2AM and I've digressed. Go read the article and hate yourself a little more... I kid, I kid.

Anyway, I'm just going to finish writing up this scene and go to sleep.

In just a matter of days, so much history has occurred.

The Royal Wedding took place a few days ago. Due to the stupid discrepancies in timezones, I stayed up until 5:30AM to watch Prince William and Kate Middleton get married. Yeah, that was probably kind of stupid and silly of me, but it wasn't as though I was doing anything that day. So I fell asleep right away and woke up at noon for around 6.5 hours of sleep. A part of me wonders why I stayed up to watch. I mean, who are these people to me? Yes, they are the Royal Family. Yes, Canada is part of the Commonwealth. But are these people I really care about? No, not really. Admittedly, I've always been a little bit fascinated by the English royalty, aside from the fact that they kind of owned my country for a good chunk of Canadian history in textbooks. It started with the Tudors, continued with the fact that I share a name with a British monarch, and ends with the controversies of the present-day Royals. I'm starting to wonder if this is a genetic thing as my grandparents apparently had a picture of the Queen up on the wall looking down over the dinner table during all of my mother's childhood, and my mom herself is a big Lady Diana fan.
Certainly, it was exciting waiting to see what it would be like and to see what everyone would be wearing. And I'm not even one of those kinds of people who cares about fashion or clothing. Period.
Of course what was ground-breaking about this Royal Wedding is the fact that Kate Middleton is a commoner (a wealthy commoner, but a commoner nonetheless), putting the whole "fairytale" sentiment into many people's minds. What interested me about the whole thing was just seeing William and Harry all grown up. I kind of grew up with them; when their mum died, it was a hotly discussed topic in my little grade 2 class. It's good to see what kind of men they've grown to become.

And of course with today came Obama's announcement that Osama bin Laden is dead and that the US has his body. That's right, after ten long years of searching for this man responsible for the 9/11 attacks and other acts of terrorism, he is finally dead. Obama's an interesting man these days. After the whole "birth certificate" thing with Donald Trump, Obama turned around and joked about his own birth using some footage from The Lion King. Awesome. I mean, I don't dislike Donald Trump, per se. I respect him as a successful businessman who is obviously very good at what he does. However, the whole possibility that he will run for presidency next term is a disturbing thought. So with all of today's news surrounding Obama, I'd just like to say America/Obama should probably proceed with cautious optimism. Who knows what Donald Trump will do next to try and make America turn its back on Obama (honestly, the birth certificate thing was ridiculous)? And who knows what the Al-Qaeda are planning for revenge? That being said, I don't mean to compare Donald Trump to the Al-Qaeda. Heavens to Betsy, definitely not something I want to be doing.

Anywho, in terms of quotidienne (why is Chrome underlining this word? Isn't it a word? Is it a French word that I thought existed in English?) quotidian life, I got into a very minor car accident the other day when I decided to man up and drive to work to pick up my uniform. Essentially, the driver ahead of me turned right, I was clear, I moved forward to turn left, and the driver previously ahead of me suddenly reversed into me because another car was coming up the street towards him. I'm okay, the other driver is okay, and the passengers are all okay. My mom's Volvo... eh... Well, lucky for me, it wasn't my fault at all and the insurance people are going to be blaming the other driver 100% so I'm relieved. I have to admit that after that, I kind of feel better about driving. I can say that I was in an accident. And I didn't die. Whew.

Also, co-op job postings are up. Or at least 10 of them are. For now. Great. My free time = over. Darn it. So far there seem to be some great jobs in the Lower Mainland (thankfully for my bank account) so it's likely (looking at things from this point and extrapolating a pattern from there) that I can get something in the Lower Mainland... If not... Oh well. BOISE, IDAHO, HERE I COME! (Honestly, I don't even know where Idaho is though there is a listing for Clearwater Analytics based there.)

After sweeping the Phoenix Coyotes, my Detroit Red Wings are losing to the Sharks. Argh! Come on, Zetterberg!

... I've also realized that Finnish hockey players are mighty attractive...