so I set out to finish my Christmas shopping.
That's right, FINISH.
Reduced-Fat Eggnog Latte in hand, I bundled up and headed out.
Then I took off the hat. And the mittens. And the coat.
*insert confused-emoticon here. It's November 26. In South Western Ontario. Why isn't she wearing a coat?*
**just wait. It gets better.**
I then proceeded to open my sunroof. And roll down my windows. And turn my music up.
Why?
Because it's November 26. In South Western Ontario. And it's FIFTEEN DEGREES AND SUNNY.
This weather almost makes me consider sticking around.
Almost.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Big Willy Style
The school where I'm currently working is incredibly socially conscious. Our kids volunteer and conserve and generally fundraise like it's nobody's business. It's scary, in an indescribably super-amazing way.
Right now our Me to We group (a Craig Kielburger creation) is trying to generate funds to help with the drought in East Africa. Students have been organizing fun African-inspired activities like a drumming parade, water walk and bracelet making, in addition to your typical baked-goods-and t-shirt-sales. They also had a teacher karaoke "competition" (which, if I may be so bold as to point out, has absolutely nothing to do with Africa... at least not insofar as I'm aware...). in which students paid to see their teachers sing a song of their choice in the caf at lunch. In front of the whole school.
Of course this would be the time that my grade nine homeroom, who hasn't shown a drop of interest in anything all year, busts out the school spirit and I somehow find myself with a mic in my hand and Will Smith lyrics flashing across the karaoke screen.
Boy did I ever "Get Jiggy With It".
This is the point where I should probably mention that I got off lightly, seeing as their initial choice was LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It".
I won't get into the details seeing as I'm positive that before long it will be on YouTube, but suffice it to say that I did Will Smith proud. And also that I'm more than a little embarrassed.
Right now our Me to We group (a Craig Kielburger creation) is trying to generate funds to help with the drought in East Africa. Students have been organizing fun African-inspired activities like a drumming parade, water walk and bracelet making, in addition to your typical baked-goods-and t-shirt-sales. They also had a teacher karaoke "competition" (which, if I may be so bold as to point out, has absolutely nothing to do with Africa... at least not insofar as I'm aware...). in which students paid to see their teachers sing a song of their choice in the caf at lunch. In front of the whole school.
Of course this would be the time that my grade nine homeroom, who hasn't shown a drop of interest in anything all year, busts out the school spirit and I somehow find myself with a mic in my hand and Will Smith lyrics flashing across the karaoke screen.
Boy did I ever "Get Jiggy With It".
This is the point where I should probably mention that I got off lightly, seeing as their initial choice was LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It".
I won't get into the details seeing as I'm positive that before long it will be on YouTube, but suffice it to say that I did Will Smith proud. And also that I'm more than a little embarrassed.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
the thing about driving around with a box of Starburst in your back seat...
... is that you eat it.
All of it.
Even the yellow ones.
Argh.
All of it.
Even the yellow ones.
Argh.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Water Under the, Whatever.
It’s all Ancient History.
Or rather, my present and recent past have been all about Ancient History. My immediate and not-so-immediate future(s)(?) will most likely be all about ancient history too. As if this weren’t complicated enough as it is.
I suppose it’s easiest to begin at the beginning, if not somewhere around the middle-to-end.
In grade eleven I began an irrevocably passionate love affair with ancient history. I’m that person who willingly spends every possible minute on holiday in a museum (Berlin’s 170 museums/ galleries all but blew my mind), who can determine the historical significance (to say nothing of cause and effect) of a single rock, who stares reverently at “old stuff” in general... And so what if I have been known, from time to time, to shed a tear or two at particularly moving or influential historical sites? Temple Church, Canterbury Cathedral, Stonehenge… big things have happened in these places. Monumental things. THINGS that FOREVER changed the course of history!!!!
Let’s put it this way: if you ever lose me, chances are pretty good that I can be found in the History section at Chapters. If I’m not there it’s because I’m buying a one-way ticket to the poorhouse, courtesy of nationalgeographic.com
Fortunately I have several amazing friends who not only support my inner (ok, who are we kidding here… general all-over) historical fanatic, but who actually embrace and nurture it.
At the very least they’re willing to roll their eyes, pat my hand and inform me that they’ll be at the nearest gelateria when I emerge from my historically-induced coma and decide to rejoin the land of the living. After all, that Marks and Spencer picnic in Hyde Park won’t have itself.
The point being: I love history.
And this year I’ve been given the opportunity to teach it.
CHW3MI is the Holy Grail of courses for historically-minded individuals who find themselves working in our province’s secondary schools. This semester, it’s mine to cherish.
In language classes I tend to get confused looks and threats of visits from “the nice men in white coats” from my students whenever my eyes gloss over with reverence and passion whilst discussing a grammatical point (verb tenses get me EVERY TIME). But in CHW3MI, when I look out over those 31 smiling faces in my class and the fervour hits me, I realize that half of them are right there with me.
The other half are at least smiling pleasantly, dreaming of gelatto no doubt.
I feel like I could do this for the rest of my life and be completely happy.
(once the insane prep that is the… joy… that every teacher experiences their first time through a course subsides anyway.)
Except that it’s coming to an end.
It has been my experience that perfection tends to be short-lived and, being the Holy Grail, another teacher, one labelled as a “History teacher” (which, despite my qualifications, I am not) will soon be returning from maternity leave and reclaiming what is “rightfully” (technically?) hers.
Although it has lasted but a mere term, this short period and, more importantly, the students I have had the privilege of working with since September, have reminded me why I got into education in the first place. In many ways it’s been a breath of fresh air, revitalizing and re-energizing me, providing the positive reinforcement I needed to help get me to the next leg of my “professional journey”, so to speak. When I step into my classroom on the other side of the world next summer, as far from these students as I could possibly be, I’ll know that I owe the experience, at least in part, to them.
In the interim I suppose I’ll have to rely on that historically-induced coma. After all, it’s not a bad way to pass the time.
Or rather, my present and recent past have been all about Ancient History. My immediate and not-so-immediate future(s)(?) will most likely be all about ancient history too. As if this weren’t complicated enough as it is.
I suppose it’s easiest to begin at the beginning, if not somewhere around the middle-to-end.
In grade eleven I began an irrevocably passionate love affair with ancient history. I’m that person who willingly spends every possible minute on holiday in a museum (Berlin’s 170 museums/ galleries all but blew my mind), who can determine the historical significance (to say nothing of cause and effect) of a single rock, who stares reverently at “old stuff” in general... And so what if I have been known, from time to time, to shed a tear or two at particularly moving or influential historical sites? Temple Church, Canterbury Cathedral, Stonehenge… big things have happened in these places. Monumental things. THINGS that FOREVER changed the course of history!!!!
Let’s put it this way: if you ever lose me, chances are pretty good that I can be found in the History section at Chapters. If I’m not there it’s because I’m buying a one-way ticket to the poorhouse, courtesy of nationalgeographic.com
Fortunately I have several amazing friends who not only support my inner (ok, who are we kidding here… general all-over) historical fanatic, but who actually embrace and nurture it.
At the very least they’re willing to roll their eyes, pat my hand and inform me that they’ll be at the nearest gelateria when I emerge from my historically-induced coma and decide to rejoin the land of the living. After all, that Marks and Spencer picnic in Hyde Park won’t have itself.
The point being: I love history.
And this year I’ve been given the opportunity to teach it.
CHW3MI is the Holy Grail of courses for historically-minded individuals who find themselves working in our province’s secondary schools. This semester, it’s mine to cherish.
In language classes I tend to get confused looks and threats of visits from “the nice men in white coats” from my students whenever my eyes gloss over with reverence and passion whilst discussing a grammatical point (verb tenses get me EVERY TIME). But in CHW3MI, when I look out over those 31 smiling faces in my class and the fervour hits me, I realize that half of them are right there with me.
The other half are at least smiling pleasantly, dreaming of gelatto no doubt.
I feel like I could do this for the rest of my life and be completely happy.
(once the insane prep that is the… joy… that every teacher experiences their first time through a course subsides anyway.)
Except that it’s coming to an end.
It has been my experience that perfection tends to be short-lived and, being the Holy Grail, another teacher, one labelled as a “History teacher” (which, despite my qualifications, I am not) will soon be returning from maternity leave and reclaiming what is “rightfully” (technically?) hers.
Although it has lasted but a mere term, this short period and, more importantly, the students I have had the privilege of working with since September, have reminded me why I got into education in the first place. In many ways it’s been a breath of fresh air, revitalizing and re-energizing me, providing the positive reinforcement I needed to help get me to the next leg of my “professional journey”, so to speak. When I step into my classroom on the other side of the world next summer, as far from these students as I could possibly be, I’ll know that I owe the experience, at least in part, to them.
In the interim I suppose I’ll have to rely on that historically-induced coma. After all, it’s not a bad way to pass the time.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
In Praise of Modern Amenities
How great are supermarkets?
Today I decided that I wanted a sandwich for lunch. A real sandwich. As in, not just some peanut butter slapped between two pieces of boring, preservative-enriched sliced bread, but something with substance. Something with meat and cheese and vegetables, crispy from the oven. Something on an Ace Bakery demi-baguette.
So I went to the supermarket to get what was needed.
Upon entering, I thought to myself “This is so CONVENIENT. Everything I need is RIGHT HERE!”
Think about it.
For my sandwich I purchased not only a demi-baguette, but also some spicy Genoa salami, provolone cheese, sprouts, dijon mustard, tomatoes, mushrooms and garlic-infused olive oil.
Had I not had a supermarket at which I could purchase these items, I would have had a lot of work on my hands.
After having grown the wheat, ground the wheat, combined my flour with whatever other ingredients make bread, I would have baked it. Most likely in a fire of some sort, seeing as if I don’t have access to a supermarket, it’s doubtful that I have access to a conventional oven.
While the bread was baking I would have meandered out to my garden to grab some tomatoes and mushrooms, although I’m betting that I would actually have had to find the mushrooms in the forest as opposed to in my garden, seeing as I doubt that they contain enough nutrients to warrant giving up the time and the space to actually grow them myself. But who knows, maybe I’m a frivolous pioneer woman.
Provided both items were to be found in my garden, and ripe enough to eat at that, I would have taken them inside, rinsed them off in a bucket of water my fifth son had recently fetched from the well, chopped them up, set them aside and proceeded to the smoking shed to grab some salami, which may or may not have actually been salami, and almost definitely would not have been Genoa salami, what with me being a pioneer woman, living in the relative seclusion of the Canadian wilderness, and most likely never even having heard of “Genoa”, never mind having tasted their particular brand of salami.
So I’m in the smoke shed, looking for the meat I want; the meat that came from the pig I slaughtered a few weeks back (let’s go with a few weeks… I have no idea how long it takes to smoke meat), butchered with my own bare hands (well, hopefully I at least had a knife or something to aid in the process), salted, spiced (apparently I AM frivolous), stuffed into the intestine of said-pig and hung in the shed to smoke.
We’re still missing the cheese, which probably wasn’t provolone, although I have no idea what makes provolone different than other cheeses so let’s say, for the sake of argument, that it was. Whatever. This cheese I made from the milk of my cow using a process with which, as a pioneer, I was intimately familiar but actually not because I am not, as I write this, actually a pioneer of any kind and have never, actually, made my own cheese.
The process of making a sandwich just took me several months.
So, having the luxury of living in a developed country in the twenty-first century, I’ve managed to neatly avoid the trouble of producing my own food stuffs and therefore saved myself considerable time and hardship.
It’s a good thing too, seeing as I have no idea where or how sprouts are grown, never mind what the heck constitutes “Dijon mustard”.
Editor’s Note: I’ve deliberately left out the garlic-infused olive oil from the receipe of pioneer me because I’m 99.9% sure that, in this role, I’ve never seen, heard of or tasted an olive. I’m guessing butter would have done the trick. Butter without garlic, because that’s probably saved for strictly medicinal use.
Today I decided that I wanted a sandwich for lunch. A real sandwich. As in, not just some peanut butter slapped between two pieces of boring, preservative-enriched sliced bread, but something with substance. Something with meat and cheese and vegetables, crispy from the oven. Something on an Ace Bakery demi-baguette.
So I went to the supermarket to get what was needed.
Upon entering, I thought to myself “This is so CONVENIENT. Everything I need is RIGHT HERE!”
Think about it.
For my sandwich I purchased not only a demi-baguette, but also some spicy Genoa salami, provolone cheese, sprouts, dijon mustard, tomatoes, mushrooms and garlic-infused olive oil.
Had I not had a supermarket at which I could purchase these items, I would have had a lot of work on my hands.
After having grown the wheat, ground the wheat, combined my flour with whatever other ingredients make bread, I would have baked it. Most likely in a fire of some sort, seeing as if I don’t have access to a supermarket, it’s doubtful that I have access to a conventional oven.
While the bread was baking I would have meandered out to my garden to grab some tomatoes and mushrooms, although I’m betting that I would actually have had to find the mushrooms in the forest as opposed to in my garden, seeing as I doubt that they contain enough nutrients to warrant giving up the time and the space to actually grow them myself. But who knows, maybe I’m a frivolous pioneer woman.
Provided both items were to be found in my garden, and ripe enough to eat at that, I would have taken them inside, rinsed them off in a bucket of water my fifth son had recently fetched from the well, chopped them up, set them aside and proceeded to the smoking shed to grab some salami, which may or may not have actually been salami, and almost definitely would not have been Genoa salami, what with me being a pioneer woman, living in the relative seclusion of the Canadian wilderness, and most likely never even having heard of “Genoa”, never mind having tasted their particular brand of salami.
So I’m in the smoke shed, looking for the meat I want; the meat that came from the pig I slaughtered a few weeks back (let’s go with a few weeks… I have no idea how long it takes to smoke meat), butchered with my own bare hands (well, hopefully I at least had a knife or something to aid in the process), salted, spiced (apparently I AM frivolous), stuffed into the intestine of said-pig and hung in the shed to smoke.
We’re still missing the cheese, which probably wasn’t provolone, although I have no idea what makes provolone different than other cheeses so let’s say, for the sake of argument, that it was. Whatever. This cheese I made from the milk of my cow using a process with which, as a pioneer, I was intimately familiar but actually not because I am not, as I write this, actually a pioneer of any kind and have never, actually, made my own cheese.
The process of making a sandwich just took me several months.
So, having the luxury of living in a developed country in the twenty-first century, I’ve managed to neatly avoid the trouble of producing my own food stuffs and therefore saved myself considerable time and hardship.
It’s a good thing too, seeing as I have no idea where or how sprouts are grown, never mind what the heck constitutes “Dijon mustard”.
Editor’s Note: I’ve deliberately left out the garlic-infused olive oil from the receipe of pioneer me because I’m 99.9% sure that, in this role, I’ve never seen, heard of or tasted an olive. I’m guessing butter would have done the trick. Butter without garlic, because that’s probably saved for strictly medicinal use.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Post-Scriptum
Speaking of dreams of world domination...
I won my first-ever game of RISK.
Or rather I would have, had my opponents not been cheating pirates.
I won my first-ever game of RISK.
Or rather I would have, had my opponents not been cheating pirates.
Dreams of World Domination
One day my hair will succeed in taking over the world.
And given my disposition to travel, I will most likely contribute to its conquest.
Why, you might ask, do I believe such a thing? Follow along:
1) Resiliency--no matter how much I lose, there always seems to be more than enough of it. And I lose a lot. Just ask my hairbrush.
2) Spontaneity--it does whatever it wants, whenever it wants. When the mood takes it, it runs with it. Whatever “it” may be. Just don’t ask it to plan anything. I know from experience that the only person who can bend it to their will is my hairdresser, Michael. Otherwise it doesn’t take kindly to being told what to do.
3) Resourcefulness -- it has discovered efficient and unique ways of “traveling”. Example: I once had a friend move to Australia -- that’s right, just about as far from home as one can go without leaving the planet -- only to receive an email, weeks after their departure, informing me that they were finding my hair all over their current place of residence which, to reiterate, I had never entered.
4) It gets itself noticed. More than once I have caught strangers-- COMPLETE strangers-- petting my hair. As though I were a cat. Or a dog. Or a mongoose. (Can one pet a mongoose? I don’t know. I’m not even sure that I know what a mongoose is, it’s just a pretty fun word to say.)
5) Adaptability--It can roll with the punches and adapt to new surroundings and situations. Fifty below zero? VOILÀ! You have a built-in parka hood! Fifty above zero? Well, it’s still a built-in parka hood… but a very fluffy one...
And given my disposition to travel, I will most likely contribute to its conquest.
Why, you might ask, do I believe such a thing? Follow along:
1) Resiliency--no matter how much I lose, there always seems to be more than enough of it. And I lose a lot. Just ask my hairbrush.
2) Spontaneity--it does whatever it wants, whenever it wants. When the mood takes it, it runs with it. Whatever “it” may be. Just don’t ask it to plan anything. I know from experience that the only person who can bend it to their will is my hairdresser, Michael. Otherwise it doesn’t take kindly to being told what to do.
3) Resourcefulness -- it has discovered efficient and unique ways of “traveling”. Example: I once had a friend move to Australia -- that’s right, just about as far from home as one can go without leaving the planet -- only to receive an email, weeks after their departure, informing me that they were finding my hair all over their current place of residence which, to reiterate, I had never entered.
4) It gets itself noticed. More than once I have caught strangers-- COMPLETE strangers-- petting my hair. As though I were a cat. Or a dog. Or a mongoose. (Can one pet a mongoose? I don’t know. I’m not even sure that I know what a mongoose is, it’s just a pretty fun word to say.)
5) Adaptability--It can roll with the punches and adapt to new surroundings and situations. Fifty below zero? VOILÀ! You have a built-in parka hood! Fifty above zero? Well, it’s still a built-in parka hood… but a very fluffy one...
Friday, July 15, 2011
Cupcakes
I love cupcakes.
This doesn't render me unique in any particular way, seeing as cupcakes are somewhat of a fad these days, but what does set me apart is the fact that the creation of cupcakes is, apparently, in my blood. That’s right, I have a genetic predisposition to the baking of cupcakes.
At the very least, I’m pretty good at it. And so is my cousin, Emma.
You may remember her. Every other blog I blog (funny how that word serves as both a noun and a verb) either mentions her, features pictures including her, or is entirely about her.
Now don’t get me wrong, my cupcakes are, if I don’t say so myself, pretty darn delicious. But Emma’s cupcakes are delicious, beautifully presented, creative and have fun names.
I have yet to name a cupcake.
Anyway, her cupcakes are so ridiculously, excellently amazing that she and her friend Carolyn have decided to sell them. For money, fame and general renown.
Check it out.
(there should be a link here but my computer illiteracy is causing some problems... stay tuned)
The best part about this whole process is that it's a closed group, so you can't actually check it out. You can, however, request to be added and then check it out. Either way, they're pretty great.
This doesn't render me unique in any particular way, seeing as cupcakes are somewhat of a fad these days, but what does set me apart is the fact that the creation of cupcakes is, apparently, in my blood. That’s right, I have a genetic predisposition to the baking of cupcakes.
At the very least, I’m pretty good at it. And so is my cousin, Emma.
You may remember her. Every other blog I blog (funny how that word serves as both a noun and a verb) either mentions her, features pictures including her, or is entirely about her.
Now don’t get me wrong, my cupcakes are, if I don’t say so myself, pretty darn delicious. But Emma’s cupcakes are delicious, beautifully presented, creative and have fun names.
I have yet to name a cupcake.
Anyway, her cupcakes are so ridiculously, excellently amazing that she and her friend Carolyn have decided to sell them. For money, fame and general renown.
Check it out.
(there should be a link here but my computer illiteracy is causing some problems... stay tuned)
The best part about this whole process is that it's a closed group, so you can't actually check it out. You can, however, request to be added and then check it out. Either way, they're pretty great.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
punctuation
between my literacy team meetings, essay reading and recent nerdy grammatical discussions, I have recently become aware of (more aware of?) punctuation and its misuse; not that I claim to be an expert in this domaine… in fact, I know it to be true that I need some serious help, particularly when it comes to semi-colons; I love a good semi-colon; there’s something about them that make me happy; as if by using them continuously I can create one beautiful; intelligible; grammatically-correct sentence (of which this most surely does not classify).
according to that longstanding bastion of truth, Wiképédia, Jonathan Coe’s 2001 novel “The Rotters’ Club” currently holds the record for the longest grammatically correct sentence in the English language, consisting of 13, 955 words.
Psh. I could take that one. If I wanted to.
according to that longstanding bastion of truth, Wiképédia, Jonathan Coe’s 2001 novel “The Rotters’ Club” currently holds the record for the longest grammatically correct sentence in the English language, consisting of 13, 955 words.
Psh. I could take that one. If I wanted to.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
welcome to my weekend.
27 essays, written soigneusement. A rubric that took three hours to create. The culmination of a thematic novel study, conceived at Reading for the Love of It (thank you Kelly Gallagher), meticulously planned by yours truly and her amazing co-teacher, consisting of reading groups, les étiquettes détaillées, les organigrammes géants, think-pair-shares and just about every other DI buzzword out there.
It is a beautiful thing.
First up, the lovely and talented Tayzia.
editors note:
ok, so this weekend ended up not being entirely about my dissertations. I went to the movies on Saturday and wound up having a massage on Sunday… both actions, however, were justified seeing as it was for my grandmother that I went to the movies (it was raining and cold and she wanted to see Bridesmaids) and the massage was warranted as I’ve been in a fair bit of back pain for the past three weeks.
I still managed to get all of my marking done. GO TEAM!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Unbenownst to Me...
I got married.
I’m not sure when, or how, or to whom, exactly.
All I know is that it happened.
Perhaps I should ask my students. They seem to know more about it than I do.
After all, they insist on addressing me as “Madame” when I am (insofar as I am aware) clearly a “Mademoiselle”.
Look mum, no ring!
Perhaps it is simply a question of semantics, but... semantics matter!
Let’s investigate further, shall we?
The Oxford Dictionary of Current English gives us the following definition of “semantics”:
semantics
/sɪˈmantɪks/
plural noun
[usually treated as singular]
the branch of linguistics and logic concerned with meaning. The two main areas are logical semantics, concerned with matters such as sense and reference and presupposition and implication, and lexical semantics, concerned with the analysis of word meanings and relations between them.
So basically, we’re looking at linguistics and meaning; (infe)rence and (pre)supposition.
On that note, we should probably analyze a few more definitions. Thanks to the friendly folks over at Larousse for helping out with these ones:
madame, mesdames
nom féminin
(de ma et dame)
1. Titre donné à toute femme mariée, ou qui l'a été, ou, dans les relations courantes, qui est en âge de l'être (avec majuscule [abréviation Mme] quand il est suivi du nom propre ; avec ou sans majuscule quand il n'est pas suivi du nom propre).
Whilst neither 1a. nor 1b. applies to myself, technically 1c. could. One point for “Mme.”
2. Titre donné à la maîtresse de maison par un domestique (avec majuscule).
Ya, I don’t have a maid...
3. Titre précédant la fonction d'une femme quand elle lui confère une autorité (avec majuscule) : Madame la Présidente.
Tricky… let’s think about this… President is to Dumbledore as Teacher is to Scabbers… not so tricky, really.
4. À partir du XVIIe s., titre des filles du roi de France et du Dauphin, et de la femme de Monsieur, frère du roi.
At last check, my father was not the king of France (shocking, I know. Perhaps I should verify...) And, if we're talking "Filles du Roi" (which clearly we aren't, but who am I to take the excitement out of a(n anecdotal) teachable moment??) according to my kids, they were nothing more than trumped up “belles du nuit”. Furthermore, I haven’t been called upon to populate any new colonies recently...
5. Titre donné aux religieuses dans certains ordres.
Self-explanatory, no?
So, to sum it up:
"Mesdames" are either a) women who are married, were married or could be married; b) women who have a maid; c) women in a position of authority; d) daughters of the king/ one of the king's daughters; or e) a nun.
And the tally please?
Mlle: 6
Mme: 1
Carrying on:
mademoiselle, mesdemoiselles
nom féminin
(de ma et demoiselle)
1. Titre donné à une jeune fille ou à une femme non mariée. (S'écrit avec majuscule [abréviation Mlle] quand il est suivi du nom propre.)
At last check I wasn’t married (as far as I know… refer to intro) so I’m going to award a point to “Mlle” here.
2. Titre donné à la fille du maître et de la maîtresse de maison par un domestique (avec majuscule) : Mademoiselle dînera-t-elle ce soir ?
No maid = null and void.
3. Titre donné autrefois à une institutrice, une gouvernante, etc.
Well, I AM a teacher, so if we ignore the “autrefois” thing...
4. Titre porté par certaines princesses, en particulier, à partir du XVIIe s., par la fille aînée du frère du roi de France (avec majuscule).
Key word = princesse
No?
Ok. Fine. It doesn’t count.
So… Mesdemoiselles are: a) young girls or unmarried women; b) the daughters of women who have a maid; c) a teacher or a governess; or d) princesses.
Tally?
Mlle: 2
Mme: 0
All together now!:
Mlle: 8
Mme: 1
So there you have it. My excellently (un)scientific study has clearly(ish) demonstrated that I am, indeed, a “Mademoiselle” and not a “Madame”. That is providing, of course, that my students are not actually aware of something that I myself am not...
I’m not sure when, or how, or to whom, exactly.
All I know is that it happened.
Perhaps I should ask my students. They seem to know more about it than I do.
After all, they insist on addressing me as “Madame” when I am (insofar as I am aware) clearly a “Mademoiselle”.
Look mum, no ring!
Perhaps it is simply a question of semantics, but... semantics matter!
Let’s investigate further, shall we?
The Oxford Dictionary of Current English gives us the following definition of “semantics”:
semantics
/sɪˈmantɪks/
plural noun
[usually treated as singular]
the branch of linguistics and logic concerned with meaning. The two main areas are logical semantics, concerned with matters such as sense and reference and presupposition and implication, and lexical semantics, concerned with the analysis of word meanings and relations between them.
So basically, we’re looking at linguistics and meaning; (infe)rence and (pre)supposition.
On that note, we should probably analyze a few more definitions. Thanks to the friendly folks over at Larousse for helping out with these ones:
madame, mesdames
nom féminin
(de ma et dame)
1. Titre donné à toute femme mariée, ou qui l'a été, ou, dans les relations courantes, qui est en âge de l'être (avec majuscule [abréviation Mme] quand il est suivi du nom propre ; avec ou sans majuscule quand il n'est pas suivi du nom propre).
Whilst neither 1a. nor 1b. applies to myself, technically 1c. could. One point for “Mme.”
2. Titre donné à la maîtresse de maison par un domestique (avec majuscule).
Ya, I don’t have a maid...
3. Titre précédant la fonction d'une femme quand elle lui confère une autorité (avec majuscule) : Madame la Présidente.
Tricky… let’s think about this… President is to Dumbledore as Teacher is to Scabbers… not so tricky, really.
4. À partir du XVIIe s., titre des filles du roi de France et du Dauphin, et de la femme de Monsieur, frère du roi.
At last check, my father was not the king of France (shocking, I know. Perhaps I should verify...) And, if we're talking "Filles du Roi" (which clearly we aren't, but who am I to take the excitement out of a(n anecdotal) teachable moment??) according to my kids, they were nothing more than trumped up “belles du nuit”. Furthermore, I haven’t been called upon to populate any new colonies recently...
5. Titre donné aux religieuses dans certains ordres.
Self-explanatory, no?
So, to sum it up:
"Mesdames" are either a) women who are married, were married or could be married; b) women who have a maid; c) women in a position of authority; d) daughters of the king/ one of the king's daughters; or e) a nun.
And the tally please?
Mlle: 6
Mme: 1
Carrying on:
mademoiselle, mesdemoiselles
nom féminin
(de ma et demoiselle)
1. Titre donné à une jeune fille ou à une femme non mariée. (S'écrit avec majuscule [abréviation Mlle] quand il est suivi du nom propre.)
At last check I wasn’t married (as far as I know… refer to intro) so I’m going to award a point to “Mlle” here.
2. Titre donné à la fille du maître et de la maîtresse de maison par un domestique (avec majuscule) : Mademoiselle dînera-t-elle ce soir ?
No maid = null and void.
3. Titre donné autrefois à une institutrice, une gouvernante, etc.
Well, I AM a teacher, so if we ignore the “autrefois” thing...
4. Titre porté par certaines princesses, en particulier, à partir du XVIIe s., par la fille aînée du frère du roi de France (avec majuscule).
Key word = princesse
No?
Ok. Fine. It doesn’t count.
So… Mesdemoiselles are: a) young girls or unmarried women; b) the daughters of women who have a maid; c) a teacher or a governess; or d) princesses.
Tally?
Mlle: 2
Mme: 0
All together now!:
Mlle: 8
Mme: 1
So there you have it. My excellently (un)scientific study has clearly(ish) demonstrated that I am, indeed, a “Mademoiselle” and not a “Madame”. That is providing, of course, that my students are not actually aware of something that I myself am not...
Friday, April 29, 2011
We Joust!
Welcome to my 28th birthday extravaganza. Apparently as soon as one sees thirty approaching they immediately revert back to early childhood...
Happy Birthday to Me!
Happy Birthday to Me!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Right Now...
I am…:: STEALING Emma’s idea, but it’s ok because she stole it from Mel, who may or may not have stolen it from someone else...
::watching Grey’s Anatomy. Both Emma and Mel had profound thoughts on the nature of time for this particular word, however I have nothing comparable to say. So I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy.
::loving the weather. Spring is such an amazing time of year!
::wanting to find a contract so I can stop applying for jobs already!
::reading my way through the BBC’s book list, thereby becoming intimately associated with Ms. Austen.
::preparing for my next move. And taking suggestions.
::discovering who I am and who I want to be.
::waiting to see where I end up!
::enjoying the sunshine, non-fat lattes and the company of a few ridiculously amazing friends.
::surprising myself with my new surfer-girl mentality.
::considering my options.
::feeling content and free, if not a little anxious and frustrated at times.
::hoping things work out.
::planning nothing. Sometimes it’s nice to just roll with life and make lemonade. Or raspberry lemonade cupcakes.
::listening to myself and trying to figure it all out.
::searching for the perfect muffin receipe. Next up: Williams-Sonoma.
::finding that my conversational French needs a serious facelift.
::watching Grey’s Anatomy. Both Emma and Mel had profound thoughts on the nature of time for this particular word, however I have nothing comparable to say. So I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy.
::loving the weather. Spring is such an amazing time of year!
::wanting to find a contract so I can stop applying for jobs already!
::reading my way through the BBC’s book list, thereby becoming intimately associated with Ms. Austen.
::preparing for my next move. And taking suggestions.
::discovering who I am and who I want to be.
::waiting to see where I end up!
::enjoying the sunshine, non-fat lattes and the company of a few ridiculously amazing friends.
::surprising myself with my new surfer-girl mentality.
::considering my options.
::feeling content and free, if not a little anxious and frustrated at times.
::hoping things work out.
::planning nothing. Sometimes it’s nice to just roll with life and make lemonade. Or raspberry lemonade cupcakes.
::listening to myself and trying to figure it all out.
::searching for the perfect muffin receipe. Next up: Williams-Sonoma.
::finding that my conversational French needs a serious facelift.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
7 Minutes in Heaven
I've recently returned from Paradise.
Well, if Paradise can be said to serve as an introduction to the realm of functional alcoholism whilst simultaneously turning one's body (lobster red) golden brown, then that is most definitely where I've just come from.
The Daily Routine in Paradise:
6:30 am: get up, reserve poolside chairs under those lovely umbrella-hut things.
6:45 am: coffee and a little Wheel of Time audiobook action.
7:30 am: shower.
8:00 am: meet Elvys at the buffet.
8:15 am: stuff oneself full of crêpes. Creep on the incredibly cute French couple sitting across from you.
9:00 am: begin poolside chilling.
9:30 am: hello Ms. Austen.
10:00 am: drinks. Repeat approximately every 15-20 minutes.
10:30 am: observe (from swim-up bar) but do not participate in, aqua-fit class led by a man in a chicken costume.
11:30 am - 12:55 pm: drink and swim in ocean as required. Observe frustrated parents and mentally take notes for when you have your own children, fully knowing these will never be anything more than hypothetical.
1:00 pm: meet Elvys at the buffet.
1:45 pm- 6:30 pm: drink and swim in ocean as required, always remembering to creep on the regulars, be they the French Boys or Inappropriately Dressed Speedo Guy.
7:00 pm: shower.
7:30 pm: à la carte dinner. I would like to recommend something off of the Menu of Children.
8:30 pm - 9:30 pm: nap.
9:45 pm- 10: 45 pm: people watch at pervert's row.
11:00 pm: watch, but do not participate in, incredibly horrible karaoke at the bar.
11:30 pm: follow the conga line into the Discothèque.
11:35 pm - 2:00 am: shake your groove thing. Do not forget to "get low". Frequently contemplate the mechanics of dancing in flip flops versus heels...
2:00 am - 3:00 am: beach party.
3:30 am: sleep.
Lather, Rinse, Repeat.
Well, if Paradise can be said to serve as an introduction to the realm of functional alcoholism whilst simultaneously turning one's body (lobster red) golden brown, then that is most definitely where I've just come from.
The Daily Routine in Paradise:
6:30 am: get up, reserve poolside chairs under those lovely umbrella-hut things.
6:45 am: coffee and a little Wheel of Time audiobook action.
7:30 am: shower.
8:00 am: meet Elvys at the buffet.
8:15 am: stuff oneself full of crêpes. Creep on the incredibly cute French couple sitting across from you.
9:00 am: begin poolside chilling.
9:30 am: hello Ms. Austen.
10:00 am: drinks. Repeat approximately every 15-20 minutes.
10:30 am: observe (from swim-up bar) but do not participate in, aqua-fit class led by a man in a chicken costume.
11:30 am - 12:55 pm: drink and swim in ocean as required. Observe frustrated parents and mentally take notes for when you have your own children, fully knowing these will never be anything more than hypothetical.
1:00 pm: meet Elvys at the buffet.
1:45 pm- 6:30 pm: drink and swim in ocean as required, always remembering to creep on the regulars, be they the French Boys or Inappropriately Dressed Speedo Guy.
7:00 pm: shower.
7:30 pm: à la carte dinner. I would like to recommend something off of the Menu of Children.
8:30 pm - 9:30 pm: nap.
9:45 pm- 10: 45 pm: people watch at pervert's row.
11:00 pm: watch, but do not participate in, incredibly horrible karaoke at the bar.
11:30 pm: follow the conga line into the Discothèque.
11:35 pm - 2:00 am: shake your groove thing. Do not forget to "get low". Frequently contemplate the mechanics of dancing in flip flops versus heels...
2:00 am - 3:00 am: beach party.
3:30 am: sleep.
Lather, Rinse, Repeat.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Namaste
How great is yoga?
I know, pretty great.
Doing yoga actually makes me feel like a better person. Ending world hunger, putting an end to the AIDS epidemic, executing a perfect natarajasana (my personal favourite).
So when I was out shopping today and came across flip flops made out of recycled yoga mat, how could I resist?
Sure they were a little pricey, but they're very comfortable. And they mould to your feet.
ALSO, THEY'RE MADE OUT OF RECYCLED YOGA MAT.
I bet I could do an exceptionally... exceptional... natarajasana in those bad boys.
Well probably not, but it might be worth a try.
I know, pretty great.
Doing yoga actually makes me feel like a better person. Ending world hunger, putting an end to the AIDS epidemic, executing a perfect natarajasana (my personal favourite).
So when I was out shopping today and came across flip flops made out of recycled yoga mat, how could I resist?
Sure they were a little pricey, but they're very comfortable. And they mould to your feet.
ALSO, THEY'RE MADE OUT OF RECYCLED YOGA MAT.
I bet I could do an exceptionally... exceptional... natarajasana in those bad boys.
Well probably not, but it might be worth a try.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Throwing Down the Gauntlet
Because apparently I don't have anything better to do?...
I’m sure that all five of you have heard of/seen the (in)famous BBC booklist that’s been floating around the interweb. The other day I was bored (read: trying desperately to appear too busy to do my planning/ marking) so I decided to hunt it down and see how many I’ve read. The grand total? 21 of a possible 100. TWENTY-ONE. That’s nowhere NEAR a pass, despite being acceptably higher than the estimated average of 6. Seeing as I’m a) a perfectionist, b) highly competitive and c) somewhat of a masochist, I’ve challenged myself to read every single last one of them.
I’m hoping that this won’t prove be all that difficult, considering that most are titles I’ve been contemplating adding to my library for quite some time and, having already read Catch 22, I’m confident that the worst is behind me.
So here’s the plan: I’m just about done the third and final installment of Pullman’s His Dark Materials (The Golden Compass left much to be desired, but both books two and three have been amazing thus far) and am planning on reading Emma over the break, followed by The Life of Pi. I’ll update the list whenever I finish another. Bolded titles mean that I’ve read the book in its entirety, anything that has been italicized I am currently working through, and everything else is waiting to be conquered.
PS: You may have noticed that I’ve slipped in 101 on my own. I feel that R.J. deserves to be acknowledged as the genius that he so undoubtably was :)
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert (En Français!)
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery (En Français!)
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shaskespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
101 The Wheel of Time Series - Robert Jordan
I’m sure that all five of you have heard of/seen the (in)famous BBC booklist that’s been floating around the interweb. The other day I was bored (read: trying desperately to appear too busy to do my planning/ marking) so I decided to hunt it down and see how many I’ve read. The grand total? 21 of a possible 100. TWENTY-ONE. That’s nowhere NEAR a pass, despite being acceptably higher than the estimated average of 6. Seeing as I’m a) a perfectionist, b) highly competitive and c) somewhat of a masochist, I’ve challenged myself to read every single last one of them.
I’m hoping that this won’t prove be all that difficult, considering that most are titles I’ve been contemplating adding to my library for quite some time and, having already read Catch 22, I’m confident that the worst is behind me.
So here’s the plan: I’m just about done the third and final installment of Pullman’s His Dark Materials (The Golden Compass left much to be desired, but both books two and three have been amazing thus far) and am planning on reading Emma over the break, followed by The Life of Pi. I’ll update the list whenever I finish another. Bolded titles mean that I’ve read the book in its entirety, anything that has been italicized I am currently working through, and everything else is waiting to be conquered.
PS: You may have noticed that I’ve slipped in 101 on my own. I feel that R.J. deserves to be acknowledged as the genius that he so undoubtably was :)
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert (En Français!)
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery (En Français!)
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shaskespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
101 The Wheel of Time Series - Robert Jordan
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Today
There are no guarantees in life
Not for the present,
Nor for the future.
All I know is
That I'm here;
Don't know for how long.
I love the way
You live so intensely
Enjoy every minute of life
With space to swing
Your arms around
Laughing loudly.
~Kate Havnevik, Unlike Me
Not for the present,
Nor for the future.
All I know is
That I'm here;
Don't know for how long.
I love the way
You live so intensely
Enjoy every minute of life
With space to swing
Your arms around
Laughing loudly.
~Kate Havnevik, Unlike Me
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Plenty of Fish in the Closet
Alright, I’ll admit it. It was me.
I’m guilty…
… of fishing.
In a “Plenty of Fish” kind of way.
That’s right, Lady J has indulged in online dating.
Well, I suppose that statement is contingent on one’s definition of “dating”.
Currently, in my little corner of cyberspace, there’s a lot more “online” than “dating” going on, but still… I have registered, conversed with and met several fish in the process. As one lovely friend put it, I am building my school.
And what a school it is turning out to be.
I have met more than one interesting individual thus far. And by “interesting” I mean interesting.
Now, this term could be synonymous with “cool”. Some of these people are most definitely cool. Others have been “interesting” in a “dear lord, what just happened” kind of way.
Like the guy who asked me if I’d like him to buy me shoes. Or the lovely women who continually seem to deduce “I’m a lesbian” from the statement “interested in men”.
Not only am I meeting many new, interesting people, I’ve also been learning some new things. Acronyms, for example. “DTF” is the latest one. It took me awhile to decipher and, in all honesty, I ultimately had to have it explained to me. Apparently I’m way too naive to think that someone would send something like that to a complete stranger…
The point being, the more time I spend in this… ocean… the more fish I come into contact with, and the volume of lovely messages I receive increases. Like this one:
"One words fit all...lol, am not try impress u, jsut saw u mention he must have full time job, my part time job only to make me away from internet at nite, serious I'm not so good at dating, social, dat's why I end up here look for future partner...anyway...If I'm not quiet (u might think I'm talkative but, it's jsut english, in mandarin, it's so talkative, i ain't gd at that) why I still single, I love my puppy, in person, I don't talk much, but once u accept me & also have a puppy, then that's where conversation start & I'm here to find a gal, christian or not, to come to auckland if she could & marry me as I'm not after green card...if...I am new here & I'm Nick (modern Peter Pan) & am looking for gorgeous & cute gal for marriage & she must able to come to Auckland for marry me coz that's where I'm living the past 23yrs, I came from Taiwan
my email is...
Are u a advanture type or home & DVD type? I'm 50 50
New Zealand the few paradise left over in the world, also good place to have family with, would you plan the same?
I've email to many gals similar mail contents, I'm not asking all gals come2NZ & for me to choose coz I'm only one person & ain't a king either, I just want a gal to reply with positive action, and can marry me ASAP & that will be the end of fairy tale"
I know, I know. How can one resist a modern Peter Pan?
I'll admit this much: it is proving difficult to choose between all of those fish swimming around the water closet.
I’m guilty…
… of fishing.
In a “Plenty of Fish” kind of way.
That’s right, Lady J has indulged in online dating.
Well, I suppose that statement is contingent on one’s definition of “dating”.
Currently, in my little corner of cyberspace, there’s a lot more “online” than “dating” going on, but still… I have registered, conversed with and met several fish in the process. As one lovely friend put it, I am building my school.
And what a school it is turning out to be.
I have met more than one interesting individual thus far. And by “interesting” I mean interesting.
Now, this term could be synonymous with “cool”. Some of these people are most definitely cool. Others have been “interesting” in a “dear lord, what just happened” kind of way.
Like the guy who asked me if I’d like him to buy me shoes. Or the lovely women who continually seem to deduce “I’m a lesbian” from the statement “interested in men”.
Not only am I meeting many new, interesting people, I’ve also been learning some new things. Acronyms, for example. “DTF” is the latest one. It took me awhile to decipher and, in all honesty, I ultimately had to have it explained to me. Apparently I’m way too naive to think that someone would send something like that to a complete stranger…
The point being, the more time I spend in this… ocean… the more fish I come into contact with, and the volume of lovely messages I receive increases. Like this one:
"One words fit all...lol, am not try impress u, jsut saw u mention he must have full time job, my part time job only to make me away from internet at nite, serious I'm not so good at dating, social, dat's why I end up here look for future partner...anyway...If I'm not quiet (u might think I'm talkative but, it's jsut english, in mandarin, it's so talkative, i ain't gd at that) why I still single, I love my puppy, in person, I don't talk much, but once u accept me & also have a puppy, then that's where conversation start & I'm here to find a gal, christian or not, to come to auckland if she could & marry me as I'm not after green card...if...I am new here & I'm Nick (modern Peter Pan) & am looking for gorgeous & cute gal for marriage & she must able to come to Auckland for marry me coz that's where I'm living the past 23yrs, I came from Taiwan
my email is...
Are u a advanture type or home & DVD type? I'm 50 50
New Zealand the few paradise left over in the world, also good place to have family with, would you plan the same?
I've email to many gals similar mail contents, I'm not asking all gals come2NZ & for me to choose coz I'm only one person & ain't a king either, I just want a gal to reply with positive action, and can marry me ASAP & that will be the end of fairy tale"
I know, I know. How can one resist a modern Peter Pan?
I'll admit this much: it is proving difficult to choose between all of those fish swimming around the water closet.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Exams. I LOVE exams.
Why?
Well it is well known that I am indeed a masochist. I go the mall on December 24th, I insist on wearing heels to work, I believe that Indian dining isn’t worth it unless I’m sweating and I willingly submit myself to Tolkien. Over and over and over again.
However, I’m not sure that that is why I love exams.
Ever since my student days I have positively cherished exam time. My most distinct memories of university are of walking across campus (UWaterloo and U of T both) on the way to an exam, enjoying the quiet, contemplating what was to come, the sense of accomplishment soon to be felt, the anticipation of yet another new beginning.
I love that moment when you receive an exam, not knowing whether you’ll have the answers, yet at the same time knowing that nothing stands in your way.
Not only do I love exam time, I love writing exams. Testing myself, pushing myself. Furthermore, I’m good at them.
Other than the learning process itself, writing exams is what I miss most about university. Even more than writing papers (and heaven knows I LOVE writing papers!).
My students think I’m being facetious when I post happy messages on the board before tests and exams. Little do they know that I’m fully, 100% sincere.
Other reasons why exams are awesome:
On days when I have exams, I only have to work until noon.
On days when I don’t have exams, I don’t have to work.
I can drink coffee whenever I want.
I can stay up past 9:30 pm.
Exams signal either the half-way point or the ending point of a school year.
I can wear jeans to work everyday of the week.
Elementary school teachers don’t get exam time off.
Why?
Well it is well known that I am indeed a masochist. I go the mall on December 24th, I insist on wearing heels to work, I believe that Indian dining isn’t worth it unless I’m sweating and I willingly submit myself to Tolkien. Over and over and over again.
However, I’m not sure that that is why I love exams.
Ever since my student days I have positively cherished exam time. My most distinct memories of university are of walking across campus (UWaterloo and U of T both) on the way to an exam, enjoying the quiet, contemplating what was to come, the sense of accomplishment soon to be felt, the anticipation of yet another new beginning.
I love that moment when you receive an exam, not knowing whether you’ll have the answers, yet at the same time knowing that nothing stands in your way.
Not only do I love exam time, I love writing exams. Testing myself, pushing myself. Furthermore, I’m good at them.
Other than the learning process itself, writing exams is what I miss most about university. Even more than writing papers (and heaven knows I LOVE writing papers!).
My students think I’m being facetious when I post happy messages on the board before tests and exams. Little do they know that I’m fully, 100% sincere.
Other reasons why exams are awesome:
On days when I have exams, I only have to work until noon.
On days when I don’t have exams, I don’t have to work.
I can drink coffee whenever I want.
I can stay up past 9:30 pm.
Exams signal either the half-way point or the ending point of a school year.
I can wear jeans to work everyday of the week.
Elementary school teachers don’t get exam time off.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Hurry Up and...
wait.
wait for friends, wait for jobs, wait for life to sort itself out.
I hate waiting. I’m a planner, a doer.
And yet recently I find myself falling into the habit of waiting. I’m not entirely sure when this all started, but I would really like for it to stop now.
wait for friends, wait for jobs, wait for life to sort itself out.
I hate waiting. I’m a planner, a doer.
And yet recently I find myself falling into the habit of waiting. I’m not entirely sure when this all started, but I would really like for it to stop now.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Listography
So Emma got this book for Christmas. The Book of Lists. That’s actually what it’s called. She got this book because she loves lists and list-writing. The problem being, this was the wrong book of lists. The one she really wanted was called Listography. Yes, that’s actually the title. And yes, there is more than one book out there about lists.
Because she originally got the wrong list-writing book, she got the Listography book not once, but twice for her birthday. Obviously she didn’t need three books about lists, what with two of them being the same book, so we took one back to Chapters. I was so intrigued by this book of lists (Listography) that as soon as it was returned, I promptly bought it. Now we each have a listography book and have been busily writing lists.
Some of the lists are interesting (Historical Figures You’d Like to Talk To) and some are weird (Your Most Drunken Moments) with still others that will never be filled out (People You Wouldn’t Mind Sleeping With…?).
Here’s what I’m finding about my book of lists: it’s weird. I feel as though it’s even more revealing than a diary (as in an “I’m-fourteen-years-old-and-write-everything-I-think-feel-and-do-in-this-diary” type of diary). There are even lists that I want to start writing but can’t yet, because it will make them too real. Weird, right? It’s just a list...
Because she originally got the wrong list-writing book, she got the Listography book not once, but twice for her birthday. Obviously she didn’t need three books about lists, what with two of them being the same book, so we took one back to Chapters. I was so intrigued by this book of lists (Listography) that as soon as it was returned, I promptly bought it. Now we each have a listography book and have been busily writing lists.
Some of the lists are interesting (Historical Figures You’d Like to Talk To) and some are weird (Your Most Drunken Moments) with still others that will never be filled out (People You Wouldn’t Mind Sleeping With…?).
Here’s what I’m finding about my book of lists: it’s weird. I feel as though it’s even more revealing than a diary (as in an “I’m-fourteen-years-old-and-write-everything-I-think-feel-and-do-in-this-diary” type of diary). There are even lists that I want to start writing but can’t yet, because it will make them too real. Weird, right? It’s just a list...
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Return of the Prodigal Cousin
Ok, so “prodigal” may not have been the best choice of adjective here. While Emma is spontaneous, prone to wandering off to exotic locales and somewhat difficult to pin down on a regular basis, she is by no means extravagant or frivolous (yes, I am well aware of the fact that “frivolous” has made an appearance in three of my five most recent posts. Revealing? Quite). Furthermore, I may or may not have been the motivation, if not the inspiration (I do have to give Jeremy SOME role to play here), for her most recent getaway. Therefore, were she truly a prodigal... anything... I would also have to classify myself thus, and we are all well aware that I am anything but extravagant or impulsive.
Right.
The point being, she’s back. Tanned, refreshed, revitalized and using terminology no one this side of the equator understands (what the hell is an “Eskie” anyway?!?!).
Not only has she returned, but this weekend she celebrated the beginning of her 23rd year. So I, being the loving cousin that I am, promptly did some research, found out exactly how old she is (see previous sentence), did a bit of baking, hopped in my car (braving the arctic chill and excessive precipitation) and headed directly to Niagara Falls to partake in the festivities.
First up was lunch at Amakara (sushi pizza, anyone?). Apparently I’m the only person in Ontario who doesn’t vacate the province and set up shop in sunnier climes over Christmas, so much discussion was had regarding the glories of Australian and Cuban vacations. Mainly Cuban. Apparently the music is great. And water is wet. The things one can learn…
Thankfully, the focus wasn’t all on Emma and her rapid decline into her geriatric years. Once it became apparent that I was born in the neolithic era, conversation quickly switched to me. Based on my advanced age, death was certainly imminent. But wait! My fears were quickly allayed as it was generally agreed upon that I look pretty good for my age. Phew. Emotional breakdown (and my potential demise) narrowly averted.
That being said, there was a close call in the backseat when Emma slipped into her murderer gloves. Thankfully both Katie and myself escaped unscathed, having endured only minimal inappropriate touching.
After dinner I managed to lift my creaky bones out of my wheelchair and make it to Fireman’s Park, where my glucosamine supplement proved to be worth its weight in gold as it enabled me to send myself hurtling down ice covered hills on a plastic disk.
Tobogganing was pretty amazing, although I do seem to personally defy the laws of physics. (editor’s note: it took me no less than four tries to figure out how to spell “tobogganing”) Getting to sleep was equally amazing, as it was well into the wee hours of Sunday morning by the time we managed to accomplish this feat. Furthermore, Emma has a heated mattress pad which pretty much made my day.
And so we come to today. Breakfast, shopping, coffee and list-writing eventually led to me in my car being serenaded along the QEW by the Tragically Hip and Mumford and Sons, respectively. Sunday evening finds me back in the snow belt, preparing for my last week of school prior to exams. Tomorrow is therefore a school day, which means that at nine pm it’s just about time for me to turn in.
I have triumphantly returned to the schedule of a ninety year old woman.
Joyeux anniversaire ma chérie! Tu me manques.
Right.
The point being, she’s back. Tanned, refreshed, revitalized and using terminology no one this side of the equator understands (what the hell is an “Eskie” anyway?!?!).
Not only has she returned, but this weekend she celebrated the beginning of her 23rd year. So I, being the loving cousin that I am, promptly did some research, found out exactly how old she is (see previous sentence), did a bit of baking, hopped in my car (braving the arctic chill and excessive precipitation) and headed directly to Niagara Falls to partake in the festivities.
First up was lunch at Amakara (sushi pizza, anyone?). Apparently I’m the only person in Ontario who doesn’t vacate the province and set up shop in sunnier climes over Christmas, so much discussion was had regarding the glories of Australian and Cuban vacations. Mainly Cuban. Apparently the music is great. And water is wet. The things one can learn…
Thankfully, the focus wasn’t all on Emma and her rapid decline into her geriatric years. Once it became apparent that I was born in the neolithic era, conversation quickly switched to me. Based on my advanced age, death was certainly imminent. But wait! My fears were quickly allayed as it was generally agreed upon that I look pretty good for my age. Phew. Emotional breakdown (and my potential demise) narrowly averted.
That being said, there was a close call in the backseat when Emma slipped into her murderer gloves. Thankfully both Katie and myself escaped unscathed, having endured only minimal inappropriate touching.
After dinner I managed to lift my creaky bones out of my wheelchair and make it to Fireman’s Park, where my glucosamine supplement proved to be worth its weight in gold as it enabled me to send myself hurtling down ice covered hills on a plastic disk.
Tobogganing was pretty amazing, although I do seem to personally defy the laws of physics. (editor’s note: it took me no less than four tries to figure out how to spell “tobogganing”) Getting to sleep was equally amazing, as it was well into the wee hours of Sunday morning by the time we managed to accomplish this feat. Furthermore, Emma has a heated mattress pad which pretty much made my day.
And so we come to today. Breakfast, shopping, coffee and list-writing eventually led to me in my car being serenaded along the QEW by the Tragically Hip and Mumford and Sons, respectively. Sunday evening finds me back in the snow belt, preparing for my last week of school prior to exams. Tomorrow is therefore a school day, which means that at nine pm it’s just about time for me to turn in.
I have triumphantly returned to the schedule of a ninety year old woman.
Joyeux anniversaire ma chérie! Tu me manques.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Five and Twenty Fun Facts
I'm bored.
It just so happened that this particular weekend I had nothing planned and EVERYONE was busy. After having watched Shutter Island, creeped all of my friends on Facebook, watched The Fellowship of the Ring (Extended Edition) and caught up on all of my friends' blogs, I was sifting through my documents and found this "My 25" list that I had begun in Korea and never finished. So I did a little editing and a touch of soul-searching (how very introspective of me -- see number 6) and came up with this fascinating list that you've all been dying to read.
1. The only thing I really know I want to do in life is head out to False Bay, South Africa to watch the great whites breach. I LOVE sharks. Sorry seals, but you’re going to be eaten anyway, so I want to watch.
2. Oh, and I also want to get a PhD.
3. And go cage diving. And learn to play the violin.
4. I love coffee. Lattes in particular.
5. I will eat anything that is grape flavoured. And I will love it.
6. I also enjoy bacon.
7. Having my heart broken was probably one of the best things that could have ever happened to me.
8. I became a teacher because I love to learn. It never ceases to amaze me when one of my students tells me they hate school. I think I need to try teaching kindergarten, where just about everything is viewed with a sense of wonder. Which leads me to...
9. I miss my job in Korea. If I could find that job somewhere else, I think I could be happy forever.
10. I cannot stand it when people don’t know the difference between their/ they’re/ there, your/ you’re and to/ too. This is basic English. I don’t care if you’re texting me -- is it really that hard to type out “you”?
11. I also love sangria.
12. There are probably three people in the entire world who know me half as well as they think they do.
13. I’m addicted to books. I would spend every last penny on reading material if I could. Especially historical fiction.
14. My favourite number is 11. I’m not much for superstition, but my lucky number gets me EVERY time.
15. I judge people who don’t believe in post-secondary eduction. This is probably the number one thing I’m trying to change about myself.
16. I’m terrified that I’ll never figure out exactly what I want to do with my life.
17. I love mama’s boys. And metrosexuals. I mean, I’m into guys who are into their family AND personal hygiene...
18. I have a thing for thunderstorms.
19. I love, love, love to eat. But I hate to cook.
20. I do, however, enjoy baking.
21. When I was little, I always wanted a nickname. Seriously, I used to try and force people to call me by nicknames I had made up myself. That is why I secretly love it when people call me “Lady J”.
22. I’m fiercely loyal to, and incredibly protective of, my friends.
23. I’m so Green it’s ridiculous. I’m trying really hard to learn to relax, roll with the punches and embrace “whatever happens”.
24. I firmly believe that our current education system encourages students to strive for mediocrity. Which is why I would like to work for the Ministry of Education one day.
25. I have assigned a song to each of my friends. Some of them have entire playlists.
It just so happened that this particular weekend I had nothing planned and EVERYONE was busy. After having watched Shutter Island, creeped all of my friends on Facebook, watched The Fellowship of the Ring (Extended Edition) and caught up on all of my friends' blogs, I was sifting through my documents and found this "My 25" list that I had begun in Korea and never finished. So I did a little editing and a touch of soul-searching (how very introspective of me -- see number 6) and came up with this fascinating list that you've all been dying to read.
1. The only thing I really know I want to do in life is head out to False Bay, South Africa to watch the great whites breach. I LOVE sharks. Sorry seals, but you’re going to be eaten anyway, so I want to watch.
2. Oh, and I also want to get a PhD.
3. And go cage diving. And learn to play the violin.
4. I love coffee. Lattes in particular.
5. I will eat anything that is grape flavoured. And I will love it.
6. I also enjoy bacon.
7. Having my heart broken was probably one of the best things that could have ever happened to me.
8. I became a teacher because I love to learn. It never ceases to amaze me when one of my students tells me they hate school. I think I need to try teaching kindergarten, where just about everything is viewed with a sense of wonder. Which leads me to...
9. I miss my job in Korea. If I could find that job somewhere else, I think I could be happy forever.
10. I cannot stand it when people don’t know the difference between their/ they’re/ there, your/ you’re and to/ too. This is basic English. I don’t care if you’re texting me -- is it really that hard to type out “you”?
11. I also love sangria.
12. There are probably three people in the entire world who know me half as well as they think they do.
13. I’m addicted to books. I would spend every last penny on reading material if I could. Especially historical fiction.
14. My favourite number is 11. I’m not much for superstition, but my lucky number gets me EVERY time.
15. I judge people who don’t believe in post-secondary eduction. This is probably the number one thing I’m trying to change about myself.
16. I’m terrified that I’ll never figure out exactly what I want to do with my life.
17. I love mama’s boys. And metrosexuals. I mean, I’m into guys who are into their family AND personal hygiene...
18. I have a thing for thunderstorms.
19. I love, love, love to eat. But I hate to cook.
20. I do, however, enjoy baking.
21. When I was little, I always wanted a nickname. Seriously, I used to try and force people to call me by nicknames I had made up myself. That is why I secretly love it when people call me “Lady J”.
22. I’m fiercely loyal to, and incredibly protective of, my friends.
23. I’m so Green it’s ridiculous. I’m trying really hard to learn to relax, roll with the punches and embrace “whatever happens”.
24. I firmly believe that our current education system encourages students to strive for mediocrity. Which is why I would like to work for the Ministry of Education one day.
25. I have assigned a song to each of my friends. Some of them have entire playlists.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Lemon Drops and Butterflies
So, in my head I had a great day today.
Glorious, even.
In my head it was a holiday, and we were in Kensington drinking coffee (but the door was closed, so we weren't freezing). While engaging in this superb activity you suggested that we head up to the cottage, so that we may continue drinking coffee, in addition to wine, and read books.
On this glorious day, we continued to drink coffee well into the evening (clearly we don't have to work tomorrow) and even stayed up past eleven pm. Scandalous, I know.
Also, Wednesday is skirt/ dress day. This results in most Wednesdays being an improvement on the other four working days. Today, however, was not a working day (what with Kensington and the coffee and whatnot).
Pretty great, right?
Glorious, even.
In my head it was a holiday, and we were in Kensington drinking coffee (but the door was closed, so we weren't freezing). While engaging in this superb activity you suggested that we head up to the cottage, so that we may continue drinking coffee, in addition to wine, and read books.
On this glorious day, we continued to drink coffee well into the evening (clearly we don't have to work tomorrow) and even stayed up past eleven pm. Scandalous, I know.
Also, Wednesday is skirt/ dress day. This results in most Wednesdays being an improvement on the other four working days. Today, however, was not a working day (what with Kensington and the coffee and whatnot).
Pretty great, right?
Monday, January 3, 2011
Becky
Becky and I have decided to write a book.
Our first plan was to take over the world, but that seemed a little too ambitious and besides, being rulers of the earth would hardly leave enough time for Wildcraft, Starbucks and frivolous conversation.
I was originally planning on proposing the book-writing idea to Brittany, who happens to share my interest in literacy and with whom I could undoubtably create a useful piece of scholarship. She’s brilliant but...
who needs to be a contributing member of society? Overrated.
Anyway… Becky and I are writing a book. About our lives and the random… stuff … (New Year’s Resolution 2011--> swear less) that happens to us and our... lovely... friends.
We will most likely include a glossary of important terminology. Perhaps we’ll just create a companion dictionary, comprised of things such as:
"I need to work on my patience"
ie: "I need to stop being afraid of commitment"
"I need to broaden my horizons"
ie: "I seriously need to lower my standards"
“I’d like to be ‘cognitively processed’ ”
ie: well, we’ll just leave that one out for now…
Without this companion piece it would be all but impossible to understand the book itself.
I’m sure we’ll make millions.
Our first plan was to take over the world, but that seemed a little too ambitious and besides, being rulers of the earth would hardly leave enough time for Wildcraft, Starbucks and frivolous conversation.
I was originally planning on proposing the book-writing idea to Brittany, who happens to share my interest in literacy and with whom I could undoubtably create a useful piece of scholarship. She’s brilliant but...
who needs to be a contributing member of society? Overrated.
Anyway… Becky and I are writing a book. About our lives and the random… stuff … (New Year’s Resolution 2011--> swear less) that happens to us and our... lovely... friends.
We will most likely include a glossary of important terminology. Perhaps we’ll just create a companion dictionary, comprised of things such as:
"I need to work on my patience"
ie: "I need to stop being afraid of commitment"
"I need to broaden my horizons"
ie: "I seriously need to lower my standards"
“I’d like to be ‘cognitively processed’ ”
ie: well, we’ll just leave that one out for now…
Without this companion piece it would be all but impossible to understand the book itself.
I’m sure we’ll make millions.
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