Recant

I rescind my previous statement regarding Facebook. It may not be the root of all evil, as previously believed.
Don't get me wrong, I still think that Facebook is a little silly at times, but it has suited my purposes very well. I was able to get in touch with a few friends that I haven't seen since High School. Not necessarily all ones that I miss enough to look up their numbers, but it's nice to find out what they've been up to.
Thus, I withdraw my previous rant(s).

The Joys of Public Radio

When did I get old?
The other day, while driving around in a borrowed car, I flipped through stations. This music was too loud, that too pulsating, the other just too annoyingly "cool", and that one bordering on completely inappropriate.
Until in dispair I pressed the button for 102.1. CBC radio two. Some wonderful piece composed by a person whose name did not include a hyphen and a number. It had flutes in it. It was followed by just the kind of jazz I love, heavy on the horns, a little easier on the piano. Which was followed by more and more music...
Why has no one ever told me that there is a station out there that has no commercials? Here I've been listening to radio ads for already what adds up to probably a full day of my life, and all the while there was CBC?
So, yes. I listen to classical music now more often than any other genre. And it has affected me in other ways. I feel myself wanting to go to plays and concerts and operas, to read classics in leatherbound covers.
And I'm okay with that. My copy of Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment is already on hold at the library.

The Bubble

I had to get a tuberculosis test today. Exciting times, let me tell you.
First of all, I thought that the clinic was on seventh at third southwest, so I got off the train at TD Square and looked around, bewildered, for a Calgary Health Region sign. Nowhere to be found. I checked the address I had written down, saw no discrepancies between the scribbles and my location.
Hence it was necessary to call 411 (racking up all kinds of charges on my cellphone) to get the number for aforesaid clinic. Then I had to wade my way through almost five minutes of automated voices before I could discover that the clinic was located on seventh at third southeast. Clever me.
When I finally arrived at the clinic (just barely on time), it was surprisingly hassle-free. I got needled under the skin and injected with some interesting liquid. It left a bubble under the skin on my forearm. It wasn't there for long, but it was morbidly facsinating. I couldn't stop looking at this crazy bubble. I wanted to touch it.
I was like a little kid with a scab.

Namaste

I attended the first yoga class today at noon. (Yes, I am a slacker who doesn't work Fridays. The office isn't open.)
It was very enjoyable, etc. I feel relaxed, my muscles feel like they got some work and stretching, and I got to show off my lululemons. I just have a hard time taking the namaste seriously.
At the end of a yoga class, you put your hands in prayer position in front of your chest and give a slight bow to other members of the class, saying, "Namaste" (the light in me salutes the light in you or something like that). When I did it, I felt like I was going to giggle.
Why? It's a wonderful thing to say to other people. You're recognizing their humanity and divine nature, in a way.
I think that our lives sometimes become so conventional and contemporary that when we experience something archaic, foreign, or of old-world sentiment, we can have a hard time taking it seriously unless we're in the right mood. An example is antiquated English formal language of thees and thous or chivalrous old-fashioned manners. They seem so quaint and outdated that not only do these beautiful gestures fall into disuse, but they are mocked when in use. Which I would like to strive to change in myself.
So as I wait for gentlemen to stand on ceremony, I say, "The light that doth dwell in me doth salute that which dwelleth in thee".
Namaste.

Didn't Knock On Wood

Darn. I jinxed it. It doesn't work anymore.

Weirdness

I noticed something very strange. On the right side of this page, if you open April's entries and click on "Eligibility..." parts of the page appear to be written in a different language. See if you can find them.
Bonus points if you know which language!
ps. I have no idea how this happened.

The Saga of the Ice Cream Sandwich

Last week I took the bus to work every day. I was feeling rather lazy and didn't want to ride my bike. On Monday, as I walked along 19th St. between 24th ave. and Morley Tr, I saw an ice cream sandwich on the sidewalk. It was a fairly new addition to the landscape because it was still melting. I noticed it and moved on.
On Tuesday, it was still there. Of course, it was now a puddle of dried ice cream goo spread around two cookies, but it was still there. I thought it was a little odd, and again continued on my merry way.
Wednesday came around, and this time I looked for the ice cream sandwich. It was still there, now squashed by a shoeprint, with a little smear alongside, where the guilty party had tried to scrape off the chocolatey goodness.
By Thursday, it was merely a dirty smear on the sidewalk. What was once a yummy treat had been demoted to mud.
Sad story.

Redemption

I've decided that my job isn't really among the most boring. Today I got to duplicate x-rays!
It was noticably more enjoyable than calling people and saying (to their answering machine more often than not),
"Hi, I'm calling from your dental office to let you know that you're due to come in for a cleaning and a check-up. If you give us a call at ... we'll set up an appointment for you!" Fun times, let me tell you.
This job has risen to the task of proving to me that it is not all boring phone calls. No, it is also being shot by children who chose the "Nerf" gun as their dental prize!

Water, Water Everywhere.. and None of It To Drink

I read an article on my lunch break about bottled water. More specifically, about the declining popularity and chic-ness of bottled water. It is the "new environmental sin".
Not to mention ridiculous, from an economic perspective. Tap water is free, or next to it. Bottled water, which is very much the same, costs upwards of $2-3 a litre. What benefits do they add to the water that justify the additional costs? Really, not much, in terms of chemicla composition. The issue that the article fails to address is the reason why many people buy bottled water- at least, the reason that I have bought it on occasion.
It's all about convenience. Sometimes people don't want to search for a water fountain, or they've forgotten their Nalgene at home. At times, this justifies the purchase of bottled water to me. What I don't understand are the people who though it was chic in the first place.

Lovable Critters I Have Known

In the third grade, I had a bunny named Buttercup. He was a castoff class pet that I got to keep. About 2 months after we took him home, he ran away. Or got eaten by a coyote. We never figured it out.
A few years later, my sister got a fish. It's name was Aggy and its tank stank up our entire room.
Then, we finally got some good pets. Two dogs in swift succession, Ginger and Tavi. Golden Lab and black lab.
By far though, my favorite pet was Horst. Horst was a ladybug that found me in November 2005, in Craigie Hall C203, while I was in Introductory German, Part III. How Horst had survived into chilly November, I'll never know, but he also came with me to Introductory Macroeconomics and Brother Hill's New Testament class.
Named after my German prof, Horst was content to wander on my left hand for the few hours before I got bored of him and left him on a fake tree at the Institute Building. Ah, Horst. I'll never find another pet like him.
Someone told me yesterday that you can freeze bugs and keep them in the freezer for a long time before thawing them out. And that when you do thaw them out, they come back to life. Can anyone corroborate this? If so, I really wish I had frozen Horst. I could have kept him forever.

Happy Flowers

On my way to work this morning, I saw the first signs of dandelions in someone's lawn. Some may call them weeds, but to me they are the cheeriest flower. Imagine the embankments of Crowchild Trail without a solid carpet of them. Suddenly my drive out to my parents' would be less exciting.

I Still Don't Like Facebook

Okay, everyone, calm down. Yes, I did get facebook. Of my own volition? No. Will I use it for much else than the use which made it mandatory? No. So stop mocking me. I still would prefer to not be on facebook.
However, I am going to be an EFY counsellor this summer. Are they able to give me all the information I need through email? Of course. Do they prefer to do it through facebook? Evidently.
Is it time to end this entry? Most definitely.

May Day

The first day of May always makes me want to dance around a beribboned pole. I used to do it every year in my childhood.
For those of you who weren't aware, I went to an "alternative" school. We learned about fairies. We celebrated pagan rituals and festivals like winter solstice and May Day. We also celebrated Catholic festivals like Advent and Michaelmas.
I kind of miss my unconventional school. The university is rather mundane by comparison.