Anxious

Painting is entitled, Frantic by Whitney Bedford.

Since Thursday, I've been feeling mighty anxious. I have dwindled the feeling down to this: in a couple short weeks, I'm moving to a new continent. One would think that with any huge move across the Pacific Ocean, there would be a TON of loose ends to tie up. Fortunately, because there is a void here where responsibility should be, there are practically none of these. I have visited the pension refund office, the immigration office, the bank, and talked to my school about settling up my last pay. I don't even have to cancel my phone: I have a one year contract that will end in July and they have a hefty deposit from me that will cover my last month's bill. So yes, I'll be racking up the calls to Canada this month!

Maybe I'm anxious too because despite the fact that I've never fully acclimated to the country, this has been a very comfortable year. I don't love Korea, no. But it's an easy life...and I have a feeling that my next Adventure will require far more work and far more effort to be equally successful. Yesterday a woman stared at me like I was responsible for the Korean war. I showed no cleavage and was engaged in fully appropriate behaviour. In fact, I was alone, keeping quietly to myself. What usually works (bowing slightly and smiling) did not...and despite the fact that I've been seeing this, experiencing this for a year, I was still amazingly annoyed with her. This is probably the most racist country I have ever been to and it's startling to be on the other end of the prejudice. To say the very, very least, I'm excited to go home. However, I will never again be able to sit in a restaurant and talk about blatantly inappropriate topics with no concern that anyone around me will be able to understand fully what I'm saying. I will have to start tipping again at restaurants (gasp!). I will have to commute farther than 6 minutes to work everyday. Though the culture was hard to get used to, the perks were pretty darn perky.

I'm winding down Sunday afternoon with a particularly disgusting task. Alicia has asked me to write her eulogy for her. She's taking a death and dying course and is having trouble penning her own eulogy. She's bringing in the big guns. How morbid. I thought it would be easy to say lovely things about my friend. Though that's no challenge, writing that's she's dead is pretty hard to wrap my head around.

They say (who is "they"?) you should write your eulogy and keep revising it. I say it's harder than it seems.

More updates to follow once I get some pictures from last night. We had a Sex and the City party and went out to see the movie. It was a real disappointment, but the party was a blast.

How was your weekend?

The Fetishization of Art

I often get taken by the serenity and methodical narration of a good documentary. This is truly the only way information that may otherwise be boring for me actually sinks in. There is something magical about a man's deep voice, telling me in story form, about...well, any old thing, that makes me make a cup of tea, get comfortable, and watch until the end. Case and point:

This is part one of The Mona Lisa Curse, a documentary made by art critic Robert Hughes. It was shown on British TV in September 2008. If you're interested, you can certainly watch the rest in parts on You Tube. If you will, enjoy :)



Also, take a peek at this article, written about Hughes from the Telegraph.

Hair hair hair

Alright, this may be a little over the top, but I just can't get enough of this hair...especially for a certain wedding coming up in August??? All I'm saying is if you are short enough to wear tall heels and huge hair, why not take full advantage of it?

image courtesy of Net-a-Porter via Everything Fab (click <-- Fab to see more!)

"Pans"

The little angel I tutor sent me this text message earlier in the week:

"we'll decorate fan. you don't need anything but maybe your clothes get dirty. and please bring some hard riddle."

(She loves a good riddle.)

Here's our handy work:

"Canada", written in English is below the ostentatious, "KOREA". Our names are spelled in English on the right and in Korean on the left. Scattered throughout are various things we've done together: buy some sunglasses, play chess, read books, and eat fish-shaped candy. The three-leaf clovers symbolize happiness, "because with happiness, you don't need luck." Who comes up with this stuff? I'm going to miss her.

And here's what I've been doing today...

My winter clothes are vacuum packed (along with Laura's books ready to be returned to their rightful owner) and ready by the door. Matt will carry them off to the post office for me tomorrow and I'm all SET!

Two weeks, six days...and counting :)

I'm Employed!

Well, I accepted the job in England!

I'm officially a math teacher starting in September.

Bubbly is in order.

:)

What is the the What

I finished another of David Eggers' books (the first loaned to me by Dave Norton back in UWO days: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius) and I must say I am impressed. If ever there was a reason to read a little more, care a little more, think a little more about the rest of the world, this is the book that might be it.

Some passages I thought were particularly moving...

--God said, "You can either have these cattle, as my gift to you, or you can have the What." My father waited for the necessary response.
--But...Sadiq said, helping out, --What is the What? he said, with an air of theatrical inquisitiveness.
--Yes, yes. That was the question. So the first man lifted his head to God and asked what this was, this What. "What is the What?" the first man asked. And God said to the man, "I cannot tell you. Still, you have to choose. You have to choose between the cattle and the What." Well then. The man and the woman could see the cattle right there in front of them, and they knew that with cattle, they would eat and live with great contentment. They could see the cattle were God's most perfect creation, and that the cattle carried something godlike within themselves. (This might upset some of you environmentalists...I guess there is a deeply entrenched adoration and respect for the bovine) They knew that they would live in peace with the cattle, and that if they helped the cattle eat and drink , the cattle would give man their milk, would multiply every year and keep the monyjang happy and healthy. So the first man and woman knew they would be fools to pass up the cattle for this idea of the What. So the man chose cattle. And God has proven that this was the correct decision. God was testing the man. He was testing the man, to see if he could appreciate what he had been given, if he could take pleasure in the bounty before him, rather than trade it for the unknown.

page 62

...you have to wonder then if the grass is actually greener on the other side. I suppose it's pretty safe to assume it's not or that is might be, but you aren't willing to peek over to check. I suppose this is all this is: safe. I guess one has to take the leap and give up the comfort of the known to explore the uncertainty of the unknown. I wonder what the Ghost would say about this?...

Sometimes the teeth can accidentally bite the tongue, but the solution for the tongue is not to find another mouth to live in.

page 176

'Light of my heart, do not let my darkness speak to me.'

page 358-9

Seeing this part of Kenya made it all the more depressing and inconceivable that our refugee camp had been placed where it had. We pressed our faces to the glass and wondered, Why couldn't they put Kakuma there? Or there, or there? Do not think it was lost on us that the Kenyans, and every international body that monitors or provides for the displaced, customarily place their refugees in the least desirable regions on earth. There we become utterly dependent -- unable to grow our own food, to tend our own livestock, to live in any sustainable way. I do not judge the UNHCR or any nation that takes in the nationless, but I do pose the question.

page 454

Here was one I just could not agree with though. This only because I too have sat, impatient, in pain, waiting as person after person moves through an emergency room ahead of me. I've been a victim of crimes against my property and the authorities took all day to respond and then filed, "a complaint". Yeah, I'd like to file a complaint against the police department. And I'm pretty sure, though, that I have worth...I'm not invisible, as Achuk claims to be. Still, sh*t happens and sometimes we are powerless.

I gave the police officer this number and now I know that they did not try to call it even once. The phone is still in possession of the people who stole it, those who robbed and beat me, and this phone is still working. The police did not bother to investigate the crime, and the criminals knew the police would do nothing. This is the moment, above any other, when I wonder if I actually exist. If one of the parties involved, the police or the criminals, believed that I had worth or a voice, then this phone would have been disposed of. But it seems clear that there has been no acknowledgment of my existence on either side of this crime.

page 471

You having a good day?

Homeownership Pride

I have to tell you how incredibly impressed I am with my friend, Joelle. The pictures below are from her house. Her own house. She has literally transformed nearly every room in the house to make it her own and it looks amazing. I'm LOVING it and just can't wait to see it! In the spirit of how much I can't stand it when someone takes me on a tour and announces what room we're in ("And this is the kitchen." Well, no sh*t Sherlock...the oven and fridge tipped me off. Ahem.),

this is the bathroom... ;)

The backyard ...

...after some mulch...



and her very own rose! Awesome!



Don't forget the amazing patio furniture!

The kitchen breakfast nook...

...and the view if you turn around.

And here she is...our happy homeowner! I'm SO proud of you!

Note: I thought pics of the boudoir were a bit too personal to share here.
You're welcome ;)

The English Interview

I had my interview with the school in England last night. The interview went remarkably well and they offered me a position right away.

I had to put on my very best interview face because we were via Skype and struggled HARD with the "you are strictly prohibited from crossing your legs...always" rule my doctor has implemented. But the 45 minutes whizzed by and the principal and headmaster (headmistress? That sounds wrong...) were really on point.

I loved their philosophies about assessment and evaluation, a modular school year, and the two main foci of the school: the environment and business. I was really happy with them.

So here is the debate, folks. Do I live in the quaint suburb of London called Dartford, or do I commute everyday from London proper? Rent is about $400 a month less in the town and I'd save on the tube pass (about $250 a month). That's big bucks over a whole year. BUT, (whining) I really want to live in the city.

Hmmm...thoughts?

Food for Thought

Byte on this...

But the computer can only manage things that can be expressed in binary code. It can play music, but it cannot write it (not well at least), or explain its beauty. It can store poetry but cannot explain its meaning. It can allow you to search every book imaginable, yet it cannot distinguish good and bad grammar, at least not well. It is superb at what it can do, but it excludes a great deal of what the human mind is capable of doing. It is a tool.

It is a powerful and seductive tool. Yet it operates using a logic that lacks other, more complex, elements of reason. The computer focuses ruthlessly on things that can be represented in numbers. By doing so, it also seduces people into thinking that other aspects of knowledge are either unreal or unimportant. The computer treats reason as an instrument for achieving things, not for contemplating things. It narrows dramatically what we mean and intend by reason. But within that narrow realm, the computer can do extraordinary things.

page 62

The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century

Written by George Friedman

It certainly is an interesting read, if you like that sort of thing. Dad, Dave, Leanne, I think you'd all enjoy it.

Have a great day...just think...
you're smarter than your computer:
you can interpret poetry :)

$30 later...

My physiotherapist ordered me to buy this back brace. How hot is that?

No seriously, it's over 30 degrees at 8 am here. I'm going to boil.

But really, what are you doing to do?

I'm trying to look awesome in it now.

I've resolved that for my last few weeks here, I will do as the doctor says and wear this...atrocity...but I will garner as much sympathy as possible and take all free gifts when offered, because I look positively ridiculous.

Perhaps I'll just start wearing Korean clothes and wear this under my clothes. And sweat my ass off. Literally.

Note: the doctor put this on me in the waiting room, in front of giggling staff, agog patients, and a critically injured man who had just been wheeled in on a gurney. I'm like Lady Gaga here.

Aside from all this though, let it be said I'm feeling a LOT better. All this resting actually has helped. I'm glad.

Oh! And I've resolved to quit saying the word, "glad". I overuse it and it isn't that effective a word anyway. I won't miss it. I hope you won't either.