Monthly Archives: March 2007

Green

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Make up your minds that grief ’twill bring, if you’ve two beaux to every string!

Hmm, many unrelated things to write about…..where to start?

Let’s start with my masterful list from yesterday morning. It was an interesting idea but, uh, not entirely successfully. I got about 5 1/2 things done. I was up at 8:10, I worked out, I had a super-yummy omelet, with cheddar and basil and loads of onions (I’m a fan of the one egg to one onion ratio….soooooo good). Then, well, then the internet swallowed me whole. I got a message from my friend from undergrad, whose blog I found the other day (I can gradually relieve my guilt, now!) and one from another undergrad friend who will be in Ottawa in two sleeps!! And there were things to read: knitty blogs and feminist articles and other good things. And that whole post to publish. So I didn’t end up getting dressed to leave the house until 11.

My hair’s coloured, hallelujah! No more roots. And since I was down there, a little shopping/wandering seemed to be in order. I got some underwear, it was on sale. By the time I came home, it was after 5. So that whole “long practice” thing? It didn’t really happen. I warmed up earlier, and had time to do about 4 runs of my Magic Flute duet (it’s like 2:44 long). Then: Iolanthe! And hoo, I’ve got things to say about that.

The Savoy Society puts on a fantastic show. They perform out of the Centrepointe Theatre, a smallish theatre in Ottawa’s west end. Staging exclusively G&S, their opera’s feature fully built sets, fairly elaborate costuming, extras, and a small orchestra of musicians. And their production of Iolanthe last night was brilliant. For an amateur company, they do a truly impressive and entirely enjoyable job. The choreography was delightful, the rewrites (shots at Belinda Stronach) were witty and the entire evening was totally winning. I’ve worked with some of the cast, and they all did smashingly, though particularly Mac, who sang the part of the Chancellor and was totally and utterly hilarious. A big bravo to him!!!

It got me thinking: why didn’t I audition for them this season? As much as I’m enjoying the music I’m singing with Bytown, staging a full opera in a proper theatre would be a greater accomplishment. Ah well, Carmen and Papagena this year, and I’ll rethink things for next season.

It’s nearly noon, and I haven’t eaten (I foresee another omelet in my near future) but I have worked out (muscles are sore; I’m rather proud). Plan for today: everything I didn’t get to yesterday, plus some frivolous esthetic things involving hair and nails.

Does anyone else notice a difference in typing with nail polish versus without? Because I do…

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Further Facebook Fun and Fiascos

If you break up with a guy, and he’s not entirely happy about it, and then you stumble across him on Facebook because you’re both in the same group because you went to highschool together, or because his current girlfriend went to highschool with someone you went to university with, who you only discovered to be on Facebook this very day, is it considered acceptable to message him and tell him “hey, how are you? Hope you’re good” or is it just bad manners to try to engage him after many years, and it’s just weird to try to send him a friendly hello?

That is the most shamefully long, and incoherent sentence, I think, I have ever written.

Going to bed now. I welcome your input. Particularly anything involving juicy personal stories; I love those.

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Protestant Work Ethic?

Late last night, I decided that I really wanted to be productive today, and feel, when I went to bed, that it had been a day well spent. So I made a list:

1. Rise early enough to get a good start at the day, ie no later than 8:30. Anything later feels like indulgence.

2. Eat a good breakfast, preferably something involving the free free-range eggs my mother brought me (thank goodness for family friends with farms!)

3. Exercise. I did a short 20 minute pilates work out the other day, and I’ve been hurting since, which just goes to prove how not in shape I am.

4. Finish cleaning the backyard. The snow has melted (yay!) and the many strata of winter puppy-poop have all settled on the still-frozen grass. Now is the time to get rid of it, before everything melts and gets mushy and gross[er].

5. Proper warm up and long rehearsal. I have opera staging on Sunday, and I cannot show up sounding as unrehearsed as I am. Faking can only get you so far.

6. Laundry. That’s about the it. Laundry.

7. Maybe some tidying – bedroom, living room, aw hell, the whole house needs a good going over.

8. Downtown! Going to get my hair coloured! Oh, rootless bliss! I plan, also, to purchase a mildly expensive and luxurious coffee while there. I haven’t gotten a new pair of shoes, jeans, socks or underwear in more months than I care to count; I’m getting a damn coffee.

9. Work on sewing projects. These are time-sensitive, plus they earn me money, so they really should get finished sooner rather than later.

10. IOLANTHE! I’m going with Carli from choir. She’s a sweetheart, a year younger than me (whichis remarkable considering my relative youth and the traditional age of church choirs). I know a few members of the cast, so it should be cool. Plus, Gilbert & Sullivan, always a good time!

And that was al I could think of to have a fulfilling day. Since it was after 1, I figured I should get to sleep if I was actually get all this done. Besides, I did want to get the first 3 out of the way before 10 so I could watch Cityline (Fashion Fridays! Yippee!). Good chance to do me blogging and me emailing.

On the employment front: I hear from the church next week. Honestly, it seems a little crazy to me that I was hired for my last three jobs – including two lawfirms – in less time than it’s taken them to decide on this one position. Oh, the joys of church committees. Wish me luck (Is that heretical? Ok, then, wish me…Providence? That feels good and Calvinist).

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This is what they call "guilt"

How do I begin to feel guilty enough for failing a friendship of four and a half years?

In September of 1999, I started undergrad, and I met some truly wonderful people. Some of the first people I met in the first week of classes became fast friends for our entire undergraduate time. We were with each other through the beginnings and endings of our first really adult relationships, through the stress and uncertainty of intensive study, and through the limbo of the transition from undergrad to life beyond.

In the fall after fourth year, I sublet a room in the townhome two undergrad friends were renting. Living with friends can be…odd. The relationship as it previously existed must be replaced with something new, something different. And the concern can be that what once was is lost, and that what now is, is inferior.

When my sublet was up, I moved into another house with different roommates in a different neighbourhood downtown. And I didn’t call. I never called my friends with whom I had lived. I honestly didn’t think they wanted to hear from me, and I cannot, for the life of me, remember why I felt that way. No, I do, because I always feel that way when I leave a place, a home, a job. Call it esteem issues, call it baggage I carry with me from highschool: I never called, and I don’t know if I ever gave them my new number. I was newly engaged, finishing up last undergrad classes, and I just failed to do what a friend should do.

Ever since I have missed these friends, one with whom I was – I thought – close friends since the second day of classes back in our first year. And I have missed her terribly.

Just today, I found her blog. I have been reading it, from it’s first entry penned some three months after I moved out, trying to catch up on my friend’s life. And I have felt so badly for having failed her. In one post, she writes that she worries that she is incapable of forming lasting friendships with women. Alyson, if you ever chance to read this, please know that you did, and I valued our time together, all of our times together, and I love you and have missed you since I last saw you. And that I am so terribly sorry for having lost touch with you, I cannot fully express it.

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No comfort for Comfort Women

I went to South Korea when I was 17 years old.

In learning about the country’s history, I read about the Comfort Women of the Second World War, and I was horrified.

Check it: Comfort women and the apology they are not getting

I hope you’ll sign the worldwide petition. Whether or not it effects any change in the Japanese government’s position on the matter, it demonstrates our universal support for these women.

Sook Nyul-Choi’s youth-appropriate book is well written, and features her personal experiences with the Japanese occupation, and the dividing of Korea by the Russian and American forces following the war.

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Taking names, baby!

Not a lot is happening outside my head. Inside: big thoughts.

I am trying to think more thoughts: big thoughts, mostly; thoughts of depth and substance. I feel like my brain is out of the habit of being active and profound and attempting brilliance on a daily basis, so I’m making an effort.

Because I am smart. I am. I did well in high school (would have graduated higher in my class, but for that month of mono and appendicitis), got into a prestigious programme amongst some of the top scholars in the country, and I did well, scoring A’s on most papers. Most of my classmates are well and truly possessed of genius, but I am no dumbey. But I feel like one.

For the past year, I have fought Chronic Fatigue – which has, frankly, SUCKED – and I have taught dance classes – fun, rewarding, but not intellectually stimulating – and I have sewn dresses – ibid. And now, now that I am feeling well and healthy (HA! I was out of bed at 7:30! Not 11!!!) I am really, very dissatisfied with the state of my life.

Where is my art? Where are my thoughts? What have I done with my brain?!

In the interest of preserving what brainiac power I have remaining, I am going to try to read and to discern and to write more. It may end up here, on the blog, or maybe I should start a new blog, I don’t know. But I feel strongly that I have this brain, it was a gift, a blessing, and one I worked and studied hard to develop, and I will be damned if I just let it go to waste! No, sir, my brain and I are going to start kicking asses and taking names!

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