It Just So Happens To Be Cold Again

I am not going to spend a bunch of time explain why it took me until the middle of October to write my "School has started again" post. In a nutshell this has been the kind of autumn you spend all summer preparing for and then all of the sudden you are failing midterms and wondering where it all got off track.

Some Feist lyrics for your consideration:

We're so helpless
We're slaves to our impulses
We're afraid of our emotions
And no one knows where the shore is
We're divided by the ocean
And the only thing I know is
The answer isn't for us


The answers I don't know could build us all a life boat to get out of this mess. But I do know that it is (at last, at least) getting cold again. There is really no fun in school when you don't have the cliché biting wind and stunning trees to fall back on. Well, school really is no fun on a general whole but in following with all the previous platitudes you get out what you put in. I digress.

My favorite fall fashions this year ?

Opaque Tights : Warm cosy and solely responsible for adding a level of modesty to the fall wardrobes of all the Prostifrosh running around campus (I am looking at you Wolfe House)

Organic Cotton Scarfs : Whoever said Fair trade wasn't sexy was sadly mistaken. See also Bamboo Clothing. (Don't drink the coffee though, it is still gross) And for the boys... the Man-Scarf especially really crafty looking heavy knit ones will be key for winter, but until then stick to the Dress-Shoes-And-Jeans thing.

Home Streching and Kvetching

The end is near.

I am, as of last night, three quarters of the way done my first year of University. And what a year has it been... there is far too much that has happened in the short (and long) months since we embarked on this journey dear friends to even begin to come to terms with it.

The end of the year isnt at all like what I expected it to be. I was thinking it would be similar to the chaotic and fast paced end of semester one. Instead it is like a beheaded cockroach that just refuses to die. It has worn on and on for nearly a month of final tasks, tests and assignments. I find myself in an unhealthy and tired relationship with Varsity Arena.

I am beginning to pack up my rez room and sort out my summer plans, but honestly the end of the year is likely to never end.

sam

Signs of Apocalypse

I can't stop thinking about Freud. I dream in Dali paintings. I see the world in the angles of a pool table. I wear sweatpants out of the house.


University is that kind of parasitic entity that works its way into your system and then feeds of your nutrients. It starves out your internal organs, and give you a caffeine craving like you would not believe. All thoughts have to be filtered, revised- hell cited-before leaving your brain to become something useful. The process is all analytic.

Maybe it is just a figment of my post-pubescent mind, but it seems like everything I am being taught is self-reflected. They are trying to make you ask yourself the kinda of questions that you can only get on the therapist's couch.... or from Gauguin paintings.

It is possible that it s just my degree that implants these auto response critical thinking processes. On the one hand I have my Art Historical bias- this consisting of prodding, probing and digging your way to some 'internal truth'. It is all about asking what the back story is, or the historical context, where is the deviation from the norm, where is the continuing of precedent, did the painter have a soft spot for their mother?

Filling that out a little more is my Religions side of things. It adds about a million more questions to the list of Things To Ask Oneself In Any Given Moment Of Time; what is the goal of this, what is the reality, who started it, who continued it, who will come after, what is the common ground, where does it happen, what's the hagiography.

And far worse than either of those is the proverbial PSYCH 100. Every class is one of three things;
a) A Self Awareness Exercise
b) A Historical Review
or worst of the worst
c) A Lesson in How To Psychoanalyze (read:manipulate) Friends and Family

I am beginning to feel that my brain has been prepped to carry out the global domination strategy of the U of T roster of professors. I can no longer look at someone walking down the street wearing a red scarf without first identifying their mental disorder, recognizing their specific sect and then hypothesizing on the importance of line and volume of the fabric with respect to its anthropomorphic representations of the Christ Pantokrator .


Sam

Coughing, Coffee, Cacaphony

The year is almost over. It is so weird to think that spring is here and in a month's time I will be done with year one of four. I don't understand where all the time went, seems like just yesterday I was heading back over the prairies on a plane.

With the end of the year and the change of seasons comes the usual cough and workload. I am thrilled to say that I am done all of my assignments and now I sit here trying to motivate myself to start preparing for exams, but I think I will wait a few more days before that happens.

I am trying to decide what to do for the summer, and not really getting very far. I think I am too excited that winter is finally gone ( I say this fully aware that it is likely to snow this week) to really get ahead of myself. I am told that this campus really comes to life in the spring and I am looking forward to not having to wear pants. By this I of course means shorts and skirts and not full blown nudity.

Today is a cool, grey, not-so-pretty day, and the week is likely to be a cold one. Still there is so much green grass and a family of Starlings in the Quad, so I guess it ain't all bad .


Sam

Head to blogger actual for a new spring playlist

Walks and Watercolours

A new (old) anxiety has been haunting me lately about the true value of education. In high school I used to have days where I would sit in class and seriously question the benefits of me being there and though I am sure the same sentiment plagues everyone every now and then, I find this feeling in me only grows.

That is not to say that I don't value my current learning whatsoever; I am so deeply grateful for the sheer fact that I am able to have such an education. I love what I am learning, I enjoy my classes, admire my professors and truly believe that four years of this will provide me with an incredible platform of skills and knowledge. But there is something holding me back from working my hardest, and making me hesitate to jump at any opportunity to say "I go to U of T".

Today I had a conversation with my boyfriend about the way people perceive various levels of education. It occurred to me that though I used to doubt the true measure of my growth through academic pursuits I would judge more educated people as somehow superior. This is something I can no longer to believe.

Coming to what is commonly regarded as one of the best schools in the nation, I expected to be on the bottom of the intellectual scale. I anticipated being surrounded by innovation, genius, and brilliance at every turn and was honestly disappointed at ranking at much the same level as I had in high school. What has been consistently proven to me this year is that the vast majority of people who attend this (and other institutions) will never strive to nor actually achieve equal feats as the great men and women that we study. I may hate Freud, I may be tired of learning about Darwin, I may even disagree with most art historical theory but I recognize the genius of such progressions and doubt my own ability to live up to them.

We all want to be doctors, lawyers, architects, accountants. This is what we spend our time doing but this isn't what we are. It is tragic to me that so many of us don't act that way. What our jobs will be in the future, what schools we attend now- is this what defines our generation?

Fight Club puts it best

"I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."


I have nothing to fight for, nothing to rebel against expect myself. I have come to believe that this reality is a major source of the new rash of psychological disorders that are rampant within our society (myself included). I could protest the war, pollution, anorexic models, fundamentalism, but to be honest it would be a projection of internal anger and not true moral objection. Can I protest a war I am not being asked to fight? Can I mandate that another human being care about the earth? Can I spit on a girl who doesn't eat? Can I say that one method of believing is inherently wrong?

And so I come back to education. I am not proud to say that I am a student at The University of Toronto, with a good average and great potential. I have chosen this path for myself and so I take no pleasure in other people's praise of it. So often I have listened to sermons about the age of Human Doings instead of Human Beings and missed the point. We are doing good things by being educated, productive, working members of our society.

Are we being anything good?

It is not only my natural tendency toward pessimism that tells me that we aren't.

Sam

Poor Weather Conditions

Ah the return to the normal Universtiy life.

Last week I had my first experience with University reading week, to be honest I was expecting something a bit like SPRING BREAK MIAMI in ugg boots but I was surprised. In fact, most of the people I know spent reading week at home with their families, writing essays (in which their families had very little involvement). And for those of us that went away, it seemed to be
for more... educational purposes.

My decision to jump a train to Montreal with Tal was a pretty quick one. I was starting to feel overwhelmed by Toronto, oppressed by the campus buildings and generally unhappy with my surroundings. I seemed to have made a very good choice.

Heading to Montreal was in a sense the ideal Reading Week experience. I saw old friends (who I consider family), studied my Religions material via theological discussion (and some practical application), I even looked into the psychology of acting training. The food was delicious, the sights were beautiful.

But mostly their was skating.

Since leaving Edmonton (where I had several skating rinks in my school yard each winter) I have found that I have a strange desire to skate more than I ever did in my childhood. Tal and I rented skates at Montreal's old port (a large man made ice surface with fun music attached to a 'natural' trail for the more adventurous). Though he used to be rather unskilled at skating, he seems to have magically surpassed me in ability, perhaps through some deal with the devil.

Skating in Montreal felt alot like working off every anxiety that I had been building up for week. I can't tell you how fun it was (the whole trip was) and how happy I was to be with the people I was with.

In fact it was a week full of the most impressive kind of people. Ones who think, learn and debate. I find I miss being surrounded by such diversity of intellect; so many different kinds of people who befriend eachother based on goodness of character and not favorite TV shows.

And now I am back into the swing of things. Icky frozen rain and snow are making today a mess and a big part of me hopes that classes will be canceled and I can just stay home and watch Battlestar Galactica. I am not sure I am happy to be back to a (rather unproductive) routine but I did miss the city and it is good to be home .

Sam

Poor Weather Conditions

Ah the return to the normal Universtiy life.

Last week I had my first experience with University reading week, to be honest I was expecting something a bit like SPRING BREAK MIAMI in ugg boots but I was surprised. In fact, most of the people I know spent reading week at home with their families, writing essays (in which their families had very little involvement). And for those of us that went away, it seemed to be
for more... educational purposes.

My decision to jump a train to Montreal with Tal was a pretty quick one. I was starting to feel overwhelmed by Toronto, oppressed by the campus buildings and generally unhappy with my surroundings. I seemed to have made a very good choice.

Heading to Montreal was in a sense the ideal Reading Week experience. I saw old friends (who I consider family), studied my Religions material via theological discussion (and some practical application), I even looked into the psychology of acting training. The food was delicious, the sights were beautiful.

But mostly their was skating.

Since leaving Edmonton (where I had several skating rinks in my school yard each winter) I have found that I have a strange desire to skate more than I ever did in my childhood. Tal and I rented skates at Montreal's old port (a large man made ice surface with fun music attached to a 'natural' trail for the more adventurous). Though he used to be rather unskilled at skating, he seems to have magically surpassed me in ability, perhaps through some deal with the devil.

Skating in Montreal felt alot like working off every anxiety that I had been building up for week. I can't tell you how fun it was (the whole trip was) and how happy I was to be with the people I was with.

In fact it was a week full of the most impressive kind of people. Ones who think, learn and debate. I find I miss being surrounded by such diversity of intellect; so many different kinds of people who befriend eachother based on goodness of character and not favorite TV shows.

And now I am back into the swing of things. Icky frozen rain and snow are making today a mess and a big part of me hopes that classes will be canceled and I can just stay home and watch Battlestar Galactica. I am not sure I am happy to be back to a (rather unproductive) routine but I did miss the city and it is good to be home .

Sam

Anger Issues (anger ensues ?)

There is a post that I have been writing nearly three weeks now. This is not it.

I am frustrated. Mostly this is because I have three midterms this week and I think I may divide one good mark between all of them. It is also because I have been feeling abnormally anxious and bizarre ghosts from the past are nagging me.

But it is also because the person upstairs is loud. Only recently, my upstairs neighbour started his tendency to make loud thumping noises (i think these are more likely due to an abnormally jumpy exercise routine and not a erm... nighttime friend). This obtrusive pounding has got me all off my routine. I can't sleep (that may also be because the guy to the right of me has the LOUDEST alarm ever and often leaves it beeping for hours at a time) even if I would have been able to anyway. I also can't focus on studying, nor on important things like knitting and blogging.

On the plus side I have officially taught my first knitting convert (yay for megan!) and it seems I am not such a crap teacher after all.

The long and short of it is: check out my new anger/nostalgia playlist (go to blogger actual if you are facebook reading) it keeps me sane. Sane and bitter.


Sam

If I Don't Make It Know That I Loved You All [Along]

The university life is a strange one. According to TV (the most logical source of all universal knowledge, the wikipedia of social interaction) I should be rebellious, inspired, protesting, having lots of unsafe and morally unsound sex and never going to classes.

Instead, I have been - cynically - lethargic, detached, antisocial - optimistically - committed, well mannered and progressive. I keep making these retrospective comments thinking I might be able to tie some importance to things that have occurred in the past months, particularly those that were difficult.

The reality is that I haven't really changed that much. I keep searching for my great evolution or that moment of 'finding myself' but I am coming to realize that I might not have been as lost as I thought. As this school year wore I had many epiphanies. Friendship can be constant or it can be lost. Relationships can be uplifting or they can be oppressive. Scholarship can make you wise or justify your ignorance with better argumentation.

In the end I feel the same things I always have but all too often neglect.

We don't value the best relationships in our lives. We overlook them in favor of agonizing about unhealthy ones. It is somehow more natural to express anger, blame and guilt than it is to say thank you to the people who are stable forces of good in our lives. For me it is my mother and father who have never let me down and never let me fall too far from the bar I set for myself. It is my sisters and brother who always seem to know when I need to hear a calm voice, or hear from someone who will never have reason to judge me. It is my friends old and new who smile in the hope that it is contagious and hold out their hands if they see that I just can't. My boyfriend who in three months as made me laugh more often (at the worst jokes mind you) than I ever have in my life. I don't thank any of you nearly enough.

Too many of us are satisfied with our own mediocrity. We don't like to take responsibility for our actions (we can blame it on God or on biochemical reactions in our brain but it is the same sin).

I guess what I can offer isn't solutions, or even a full list of problems, but gratitude. There is still for me, as there always has been, a reason to thank God at the end of the day. Whether you call it the same name or give it the same structure I hope that you remember to be thankful in your lives as well.

That being said here are some hopeful words from Hawksley Workman:

the downy feathered chests of proud hawks sitting timeless in highway side

trees. and this morning i was up so early. pissed outside under the

stars. 5:30 am. i thought of winter ravens. that maybe they fly at

night. imperceptibly. between the dots of bright galaxies. and the bats

must be asleep through this. skied through the cold today. a pure blue

connection from me to the beyond. the horses wore blankets in immaculate

fields. there's a natural order to things. harmony is the only option.

did aristotle say the birds flew under the ice in winter? i'm incredibly

positive these days. i see possibilities. i see hope. it's been a funny

while in the music biz, i must admit. over the last year or so i've

recorded a lot of music. my love and faith is restored every time i play

live these days... but the studio is testing me... my patience, my

faith. i feel the deck stacked against me... but i've never felt more

focused and fresh... i made a record... finished it before christmas.

somewhere between then and now it was shelved in favour of starting over

again from scratch. the record felt like a lover i grew apart from...

when it was finally completed we looked like strangers to each other.

kiss... it's been lovely... i need to be alone. i've been working with

my brilliant neighbour and friend andre wahl... he's a real clever kid

who, back in the autumn picked me up and dusted me off... so we're

planning to start again for real this time... early march. as i said

earlier... playing reminds me of the importance of connection... i feel

blessed to be able to travel and play. the starling tour saved my life...

again i thank all those who shared those nights with me... it was a

massive reconnection with myself and the music. over the next while i'm

going to play a few shows... get back in shape... i want my voice to

soar (not a sore voice though) when i get back into the studio... so

please i say... reach for what's positive... cherish love and peace...

seek it in heart and mind... i have such a wonderful feeling for the

year. may wisdom be yours too. h.

One of these days I am going to write an essay before the week that it is due.

One of these days...

Sam

My Existential Map Has You Are Here Written All Over It

Alright so here is a confession: I am emo. I let little things get to me, I get thrown off course by the stupidity of others, I contemplate the vast emptiness of the universe and yes I enjoy listening to Dashboard Confessional.

I recently decided that the little mid-young-adult life crisis thing I have got going on is the direct result of boredom. My classes are seeming dull and tiring. Religions is currently dealing with traditions (eastern) that maintain that the western mind can never hope to comprehend them. Psychology is doing YET ANOTHER over view of the same dead white men who control the history of just about every discipline I will ever hope to study (that is right Freud I am talking to you). French is actually quite interesting but occurs Wednesdays between 6-9 pm when I am cranky and hungry and disinterested. Art History and French Culture Studies seem to be heading in an interesting direction but have definitely not got there yet.

Outside of class weird unrelated events keep happening (think I Heart Huckabees). The other day I was walking down the street with my boyfriend when a group of 12-15 teenage boys blocked the sidewalk. We kept walking through carefully ignoring them but the ringleader (not wearing a shirt in the -2 degree weather) started yelling at Tal. When neither of us showed any reaction he became more and more explicit eventually referring to my boyfriend as a 'faggot'.

Smaller incidents that seem slightly out of place in my day to day life have put me on heightened intuitive alert but I acknowledge that I am likely reading far too much into the universe these days.

In the truly subtle fashion that I love, the universe guided to me this exert from a required reading assignment novel called How Proust Can Change Your Life:

There are few things that humans today are as dedicated to as unhappiness. Had we been placed on earth by a malign creator for the exclusive purpose of suffering, we would have good reason to congratulate ourselves on our enthusiastic response to the task. Reasons to be inconsolable are abound: the fragility of our bodies, the fickleness of love, the insincerities of social life, the compromises of friendship, the deadening effects of habit. In the face of such persistent ills, we might naturally expect that no event would be awaited with more anticipation than the moment of our own extinction.

And that my dear friends, is precisely what is bothering me. Also, I have a cold. I eagerly await seeing if Proust can cure one (or both!) of my afflictions but for now I am confined to catching up on sleep and studying my mildly schizophrenic notes from the debut of this semester.

Sam

Items Found In The Abyss

I am not in the sort of mood to write out a whole continuous post that makes coherent sense so instead I offer you some of my more recently acquired wisdom. Use it wisely.

*No matter who you are, what you look like or what you stand for in life you will inevitably spend at least one night with your head in a bucket. It is a night you should remember when yours is not the head in the bucket.

*How to discover your best friend: when something happens in your life that seems dramatic, emotional, life-altering, controversial and scandalous the best friend is the one who says "so what?" knowing that no amount of angst changes who you are and how much they love you.

*We will all love deeply throughout our lives. The expression "to fall in..." is more accurate than we like to think. The loves we lose will haunt us, the loves we gain will guide us. In the end we have to spend a certain number of nights alone and that is why we should all learn to knit.

*The best kind of love is the kind that laughs with you, at you, around you and because of you.

*An illness of the mind will never been treated with the same sympathy as one of the body. On the other hand, all the best famous dead people were bat shit insane.

*Being a cynical non-believer in God does not make you any more normal than the guy who chants his mantras on the way to class. (In extreme cases it makes you skeptical and awkward and therefore devoid of normal social interactions.)

*And the following Michael Franti song:

Don't fear your best freinds, because a best friend would never try to do you wrong.
And don't fear your worst friends,
because a worst friend is just a best friend that's done you wrong.
And don't fear the night time, because the monsters know you're devine.
And don't fear the sunshine, because everything is better in the summertime.

But it's never too late to start the day over, it's never to late, pick up the phone.
You know it's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulders,
it's never too late just come on home.

Don't fear the water, because you can swim inside you within your skin.
And don't fear your father, because a father's just a boy without a friend.
And don't fear to walk slow, don't be a horserace, be a marathon.
And don't fear the long road, because on the long road you got a long time to sing a simple song.

But it's never too late to start the day over,
it's never too late, pick up the phone.
You know it's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulders,
it's never too late just come on home.

Don't fear your teachers, because if you listen you can hear music in a school bell.
And don't fear your preacher, if you can't find heaven in a prison cell.
And don't fear your own self, paying money to justify your worth.
And don't fear your family, because you chose them along time before your birth.

But it's never too late to start the day over,
it's never too late, pick up the phone.
You know it's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulders,
it's never too late just come on home.

Hold to your children, hold to your children, hold to your children, let them know

Sam

All The Small Things And Other Mediocre Pop Songs

I am currently feeling that introspective embarrassment that comes only after a night of being unnecessarily emotional.

I am official moved back into residence. I could say that I have been back since Friday but I spent all of Saturday out and about and even ended up going home for a bit, so last night was really my (second) first night here. In any case for whatever reason the emptiness (and yes, cleanliness) of my room got to me and I spent the evening feeling awful and lonely. When perhaps I should have just curled up in bed knitting and sipping hot chocolate I instead dwelled on ever sad thing I could think of.

Needless to say I didn't sleep well. At the best of times I am rarely lucky enough to get a really good night's sleep. I was awake to hear my neighbour (not sure which) and friends come in at 4:23 am but sleep found me shortly there after.

I figured being tired and having worn myself out being moppish and sad I would sleep comfortably until the light afternoon. This was not to be the case. I awoke fully and painfully (having shared my bed with a few knitting needles by accident) at 9:12 am. I will let you do the math.

I got up as slowly as I could, realizing that I had a day of cleaning, sorting and preparing for school ahead of me. Eventually I made my way to the caf for... brunch i guess. I had a very yummy chicken noodle soup and a salad with poppy seed dressing. It was good to eat and quite tasty so when I stepped out into the bright overcast day I felt stupid about my whole attitude last night. I can't really be blamed though; it was rainy and dark and with the boyfriend too far away to call and my friends and family uptown things just couldn't seem optimistic.

So I began my effort this morning to cheer myself up. I am currently listening to an audio book of the hobbit (putting harry potter on the ishelf for the time being I am convinced that it encourages me to be emo). I have re rearranged my furniture back into a comfortable configuration and I even rigged up a system to drape my new wall hanging (very beautiful Christmas present from the fam) over my bookshelf to cover my dishes when they are not being used.

There is still a pile of stuff in the middle of my floor. That should come as no shock to anyone. My next task is to sort is all out and have it all put away by the late afternoon.

So the last five and and half paragraphs all to prelude the fact of the matter. School starts again tomorrow. I can't say if I am looking forward to it or not... the distraction will be a welcome one and maybe the week will pass a little quicker than usual.

My schedule for the semester is so-so;
Monday Religions 10-11
Tuesday Psychology 11-12
Wednesday Religions 10-11 French 6-9 pm
Thursday 9-10 Art History (tutorial) 10-11 psychology 2-4 Art History
Friday 10-12 French Cultural studies 12-1 Religions (tutorial)

so a little change, a few more class hours but this remains ever the same...

the peacock lives next door.

Sam