Books Read - Spring 2010

1. The Piano Man's Daughter by Timothy Findley
2. Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
3. Anne of Windy Poplars by L.M. Montgomery (#4)*
4. Anne's House of Dreams by L.M. Montgomery (#5)*
5. Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin
6. The Birth House by Ami McKay
7. Every Woman's Battle by Shannon Ethridge
8. Dune by Frank Herbert
9. Dune Messiah by Frank Herbert
10. Pooh and the Philosophers by John Tyerman Williams
11. How to be a Canadian by Will Ferguson and Ian Ferguson
12. The First Time by Joy Fielding
13. Slumdog Millionaire by Vikas Swarup
14. Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town by Stephen Leacock
15. Anthem by Ayn Rand
16. Becoming Human by Jean Vanier
17. Anne of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery (#6)*
18. Marcia Schuyler by Grace Livingston Hill
19. Phoebe Deane by G.L. Hill
20. Miranda by G.L. Hill

Golden Rule

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Is it fair to say that the Golden Rule is the basic summation of decent conduct? I have several concerns with it, though:

1) As someone else has previously articulated, it doesn't work if you're a masochist. Even if you enjoy causing yourself pain, it is not apropriate to treat other people the same way.

2) It is difficult to know how you would like to be treated in a certain situation if you have not experienced it before. For instance, I don't know how I'd want people to act if a close family member died, because I've never lost a member of my immediate family. It's hard to imagine.

3) People are different. My tastes, preferences, and faux pas are different than those of other people; therefore the things that please me will not necessarily please other people. (George Bernard Shaw said, "Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.") I would love to receive Junior Mints or a Big Turk bar from Justin, but he would hate to receive these same things from me. This realization necessitates a deeper interpretation of the Golden Rule: instead of simply giving someone what I would like to receive, I need to consider their preferences the way I would want mine to be considered. But... it is difficult to anticipate another person's preferences (especially if I do not know them very well).
Lately I've found myself in several situations where I want to treat my hosts and their posessions with courtesy, but I don't know what courtesy means to them. If I rinse my dishes and put them on the counter, am I exceeding expectations (by rinsing them well), or falling short (but not putting them straight into the dishwasher)? Do they have any rules about walking on the grass that mean I should keep off of it? (I do, just in case.) Should I make a strong effort to keep the conversation going, or would they prefer to sit in peaceful silence? I hate the misunderstandings that arise when someone reads my goodwill as an insult.

4) Sometimes there's only so much attention and kindness to go around, and treating one person as you'd like to be treated means that you are not able to treat another person that way. Perhaps saying a proper goodbye to someone means you'll be late for meeting someone else, but neglecting one is just as bad as the other. It's impossible to apply the Golden Rule fairly to everyone.

It's hard to navigate life when I can't even aspire to following the Golden Rule...

T-Shirt

"Live crowned with glory, or swear to die gloriously."
coronados de gloria vivamos, o juremos con gloria morir.
from the Argentinian national anthem

Ouch

Once upon a time, my ex and I thought we were going to get married. A lady that I looked up to at the time as a mentor had some previous experience as a pre-marital and pre-engagement counsellor, so we spent some time talking with her and her husband, preparing for marriage.

I clearly remember one question she posed. "Fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce. Another forty percent are unhappy. What makes you think that your relationship will be the one in ten that works?" She meant it as a reality check.
What makes you think that you will be the anomaly? What makes you so special?

It's been six years, and neither the relationship with my ex nor the relationship with my mentor have lasted, but that question has remained with me. And it carries the weight of an even larger scope than marriage: what makes you think your life will be happy? What sets you apart from everyone else that will give you success when so many fail? When the odds are not in anyone's favour, what makes you think you'll be lucky?

There is no answer. Trying to point to anything seems naive and boastful. ("Because we're in love? Almost everyone is in love when they marry; that doesn't guarantee a happy marriage.)

So I expect doom, regret the advice I've been given, and try to move forward anyways. It's just hard not to limp sometimes.

Overlooked

So... is this blanket ugly? Or do the things related to me just become invisible?As previously mentioned, I made this aphgan for the silent auction we had at work to benefit the Children's Hospital. I saw it in a pattern book and thought it was beautiful, and then I spent four months making it. Granted, it wasn't my priority-project for those four months, and giving it to the Children's Hospital was a later decision. For a while I didn't like how the colours were coming together, but it turned out nicely.

We got a notice saying that silent auction donations could be given to one of three managers, one of whom was my direct manager. About a week before I expected the silent auction to begin, I brought my aphgan in and gave it to her. She gushed over it a bit, and then stored it in the conference room until other items were gathered... where it sat. And sat. As the silent auction began and the lunch room filled up with donations, my aphgan still sat in the conference room.

After about a week I brought it up with my manager. "If I wanted to donate something for the silent auction," I asked, "who should I give it to?" She looked really confused as she said that I could give it to her. "But what I gave you is still in the conference room. And that tells me that my donation and the work I put into it is not valued." She apologized and felt so embarrassed, and I guess she had an argument with the other manager involved in the silent auction later about it. The other manager had been responsible for putting things out, and she didn't know whether my aphgan was for the silent auction or not. She claims she asked everyone, and no one else knew either... but several significant people knew, so I don't believe she tried all that hard. And anyways, the notice said that donations could be given to my manager, but she did not make sure that they were followed through.

After this conversation, my manager immediately made sure my blanket was put out. But she described it as a "Mini Aphgan" (although it was by no means "mini") and placed the minimum bid at $10.00. This matched the description and donation set for the other two aphgans that a coworker of mine had donated - but those were baby aphgans, and my was two or three times larger. Again, I felt like my work was being devalued.

Two people bid on it. One person started it at $10.00, and then Sue raised the bidding to $15. She got it for that. She would have engaged in a bidding war with anyone else who would play along, but no one else was interested. She has an idea of the work that went into it, and I am glad that it went to a good home, but I am disappointed. It contained about $30 of yarn, as well as the hours and hours I put in. It looks like all my work just took value out of the raw materials. Sad.

On one hand, I donated it freely and perhaps should just let it go, no strings attached. It was no longer mine. On the other hand, it could have done so much better, and I feel like I gave more than the Children's Hospital received. Maybe next year I won't try so hard...

That's Weird

I got up this morning and found my bathroom cupboard open. "That's interesting," I thought, "I don't remember grabbing anything out of there." Then I walked out into the main area of my apartment and found a box that usually sits on top of a basket of junk in the corner but was now in the middle of the floor. Now, I know I didn't leave that there. But it wouldn't have fallen there (it was pretty sturdy), and the door was locked and chained. So, I think I might be sleepwalking.

UUUUUUUU

On another note, my Mom is coming to visit tomorrow. So I need to clean my house!!

Starbucks: A Vacation Photo Journal

Travel Day

This Starbucks was in the airport, before security. I knew there would also probably be one after security, but I had already been to that one and I had a little bit of time to spare so I got a drink here. I had to drink it kinda fast, though, because I couldn't take any liquids through security. Vacation, here I come!

Day 1

We were walking downtown on my first day here, and our agenda was kept secret from me. We approached a Starbucks, and I thought about asking to stop, but I wasn't sure what we were heading to and I didn't want to seem crazy. But it turns out that Starbucks was our destination! Wahoo!
Mara gave me a fantastic cartoon map of downtown with all the Starbuckses labelled. She also pointed out to us that she was dressed like Starbucks that day!

To keep my current Starbucks infatuation from going overboard, I feel that it is appropriate to limit myself to one drink a day. I explained that Mara and Idris, but Mara disagreed. "We need to go to at least one more today," she argued. And I figured that I would disregard my guideline while I was on vacation and there were so many new locations around.
We stopped here for dessert after dinner, and spent a long time sitting and relaxing.

Day 2

We stayed at home this day, and did not have any Starbucks. Instead, we lounged in the sun (and I got a bit of a sunburn), ate apples and peanut butter, took a walk, barbecued dinner, and watched a movie. It was a nice day.

Day 3

I ventured out on my own this day. I took the transit downtown, and then walked quite a ways to my destination instead of transferring and taking the transit farther. I got off at the wrong stop, which made my walk longer, but as a result I passed the only Starbucks I saw on that portion of my journey. The barista was very friendly, and he reassured me that I was going north. He also exclaimed, "I love no-water-earl-grey-tea-lattes!" and that was refreshing, because they often just misunderstand my request. ("Non-fat?" "No, no water.")

On my way back from my solitary adventure, I was relieved to find this Starbucks. I was thirsty, I was running short on time, I wasn't exactly sure where I was going (my map didn't include all the streets), and a quick Starbucks stop is always good news in such cases. And this location had this fantastic sign - since when is "booyah" a word acknowledged in advertising?!

Day 4

On this day, we went to a different city - one that only has 2 Starbucks locations, neither that was close to where we were. Thus, we did not enjoy any Starbucks on this day either. But I made up for it on the other days!

Day 5

We met downtown around lunchtime (well, lunchtime for one, breakfast time for the other two of us) and we were hungry. After we had lunch, I pulled out my Starbucks map and asked where we were. It turns out we were really close to this Starbucks, so we stopped by there after lunch. Idris, are you sure that you don't think I'm crazy for this Starbucks infatuation?

After exploring the art gallery, I stopped here for refreshment as I concluded my vacation. I was tired of walking and it was nice to rest my feet before I headed back, and to sneak in one more Starbucks experience before I headed home.

Travel Day

This was in the airport, as I left and came home. I enjoyed the drink while waiting to board the airplane, and the lemon cranberry scone as an on-flight snack.

Moment of Anticipation

I'm at the airport. I'm going on vacation, going to visit a friend.
My last-minute ride was half an hour late. A neighbour who noticed me sitting on the steps offered to drive me, and I was just taking him up on it when my friend pulled up. But I made it in time. I checked in online already, and I zipped through the baggage check.
I packed light! I fit all my stuff into my mini wheely luggage! ... and two carry-ons. But one of them just has my coat and shoes in it, and gives me more flexibility in case I come home with more than I go over there with. (Can "I packed light" and "I'm bringing four pairs of shoes" go in the same sentence? I guess that's two sentences, so the answer is no.)
I could barely find the food court! "I think the airport shrunk on me," I thought. But then it showed up.
I found a Starbucks, one I hadn't been to before, and got a London Fog. (And some madeleines!) Another one to add to the list! I took a picture of the Starbucks; maybe that's how I'll chronicle my trip.
The airport has free internet!
My flight leaves in 75 mins and boards in 45. I'm going to head across security in 15 mins or so - but first I need to finish my 'coffee.' Can't take liquids past security, and I know there is a Starbucks on the other side, but I also know I've been there before. That's no fun.
I bought a sub. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner in one?
This is a good moment - the moment of anticipation, waiting for something good to start. Waiting to get on an airplane and take off, and having a few minutes of leisure to enjoy this moment.

Tiny Grass

It's summery outside!
And I am so tired.

Doodling

I really hate it when...

...I complain about something I see in someone else that bothers me, and then begin to notice it more and more in myself.

I'm sorry?

Completed

I thought I'd share about my most recent crocheting project. I found this pattern (with recommended colours and everything) in a little pattern book, and I thought it looked so good. When I realized that I could find all the colours I bought the yarn and started making it. But that was back in October or November; it hasn't been my priority project. That has been for several reasons: I had two Christmas projects to complete, I've been excited about working on other projects, and once I got going on this one I thought the colours clashed. It's hard to be excited about something when it seems to be turning out ugly. Luckily the dark variegated colour joining all the squares together also really tied all the colours together, and the completed project looks way better than I feared along the way. But although I had started making it for myself, I don't really need another blanket and I didn't think I was going to like it as much as I had hoped, so part way through I changed my mind and decided to donate it to the silent auction benefiting the Children's Hospital that we will be having at work next month. I took it in and donated it today.

Basic Concept: Granny Square, with solid rows instead of shells
Yarn: Red Heart Worsted Weight (Super Saver)
Colours: Light Yellow, Cornmeal, Gold, Carrot, and Fall
Hook Size: 6.50 mm

Now I'm on to an even more exciting project!

Joke

What did the bunny say to the moose?
......
......
......
......
......
......There's some peanut butter over there!


Would you believe I made that up all by myself?
We laughed a lot at it tonight.
Sometimes the stupider something is, the funnier it is.

And Counting

So it turns out I'm not one of those people who can recall a conversation word-for-word. But ours went vaguely something like this: She said that someone posed to her the idea of counting how many individual different McDonaldses she has eaten at in her lifetime, and how that number seems huge at first, but is probably a lot smaller than originally imagined. A very interesting thought. However, I don't particularly like McDonalds. If I had a choice between eating at McDonalds and anywhere else, I tend to chose the other option. I mentioned that I would be more interested in counting how many Starbuckses I've been to. That number would be significantly larger.

I started a list; I got up to 23 specific ones that I can remember (plus one more I know I've been to but I have no idea where it is... in an Albertsons somewhere on the way to California). Now I want to try to expand that list! I think it would be fun to map out. (Does anyone know of an online map program where you can mark points and save where you've been?)

But I'm approaching this project thoughtfully, with consideration. Do I really want to do this - to begin a new obsession of visiting as many Starbuckses as possible, of codifying my life into yet another list (adding the list of Starbucks locations I've visited to the list of license plates I've seen in order, and the list of countries I can name)? Not that I tend to be an obsessive type of person (I don't think...) whose lists rule her life... And I suppose a good part of life consists of the games we play.

Skoch's Recital Concert

It was one of those evenings when it's hard to leave the house. Except you don't realize how hard until you're already out, and then you regret it.
Not that I actually regret going. The concert was fabulous, excellent, and amusing. The back-up band called themselves "The Coat Hangers." I think my favorite song was "Play That Funky Music White Boy." As well as having fantastic music, they had a bar fridge and couch on stage, and when a member of the band was exempt from a song he'd pop open a soda and relax. And Skoch played one of the songs with his guitar behind his back. It was awesome.
Everyone in the band was someone I have cared about significantly or vicariously. That meant I owed them the loyalty of being there (which I was glad to give), and that also made me uncomfortable. Because we're not in each other's lives anymore. And I just feel awkward around school crowds - not just them but everyone there. I didn't want to mingle during intermission.

I was so grateful to be beside a friend, someone who remains in my life and whose friendship I really value. I sat there imagining how I might introduce her to someone, and I surprised myself by the strength of the terms I'd use to describe our friendship. But whenever I think of expressing it to her, I lose all my words.
We sat in the front row, so we had a great view - but once things got started I all the sudden feared that I was much too boring, bland, and tired to be in the front row. Sigh. And at the end of the concert I discovered that I am afraid of participation. Big sigh.

I spent the concert thinking...
People are busy. They already pretty much have enough friends. Especially the fabulous people. I don't dare ask for anything... especially when I don't have much to give in return.
When I thought back to that time of life and re-immersed myself in that setting, I found myself asking, "Was I loved?" as if that was the question of utmost significance. Most of me answers, "Not enough." But part of me knows that the people surrounding me were loving, and that if I didn't feel loved that's not entirely their fault. I don't think that I felt like I was able to love them well, and then I didn't know how to receive their love for me.
I know that my true friends loved me, and somehow that seems tangential to the problem. I mourn the fact that I didn't feel loved, known, and accepted by the entire group, and that I wasn't able to feel or show that I cared for the group at large. Having a few true friends doesn't fix that. Unfortunately.