Saturday, 27 September 2008

writing a paper, gonna take all day, writing a paper, gotta get an A

If I got an A, I would flip and freak out. It would be incredible.

I have these cousins. I have these awesome cousins. I have these awesome singing cousins.
They recorded a song Jonah wrote* called "Writing a Paper" and I came across it today as I was setting up my laptop to work on my essay in the library. I played it over once and laughed (silently) really, really hard. The rest of the day it played over and over in my head. I shared it with the friends I was working with and they also laughed. We've been singing lines back and forth today -- mostly the one about procrastinating. So, here is some love for you, Jonah. And Nathan too. The harmonies were wildly popular.


Now it's story time! This is the story of Evey's first tour.

Early last week the registrar's office let me know that my training to be a tour guide would be on Friday and part of this training was going on a tour with one of last year's tour guides. Just before lecture started, I chatted with Brandan, my co-tour guide, and he mentioned something about showing his room on the tour. "Will they want to see my room?" I asked him, quickly thinking about the shitty state of my room, beds unmade, crap everywhere and my roommate's empties sitting out. "I dunno," he said, "They probably would have asked."

I let it pass.

After lecture I met with the tour guide to start the tour and she informed me that yes, we would be looking at my room.

I immediately started to freak out. I tried to breathlessly and quietly explain to the guide that my room was in no state for showing. Could I go fix it up? I mostly got a no, stay with the tour to learn how to do it. My anxiety increased.

Once we hit the library, I knew that we would be going to my room next, so I took off for my room. I don't think I breathed for 3 minutes straight as I ran around the room. You know that cartoon where the kid shoves everything in his closet and under the bed covers? That's exactly what I did. I finished just in time to graciously let the tour in. Phew.

I tried watching the American presidential debate last night. A bunch of us wrote out words to drink to while watching, but they weren't saying our words and just repeating "Wall Street" and "Main Street" over and over. Bo-ring. So I stopped watching.

This is the second FYP essay weekend, so I should try to accomplish something before I goof off for the night at nine. I'm at 618 words (yessssss).

*I think. Am I right Jonah?

Monday, 22 September 2008

The L Word Theme Song Is Stuck In My Head.

I love lecture. Every morning I wake up, down some food and caffeine at breakfast, and head to the FYP lecture hall with every other person in my programme. It feels so good, sitting all together in this room, some of us listening, some having done the reading, all of us super tired, trying all together to hold the thread of the lecture. Sometimes we're good, sometimes... not so much.

Today in lecture Davis and I got bored. I somehow managed to keep decent notes, but my mind was wandering... it happens. So I looked over at Davis and she wasn't really taking notes, so we played the BEST lecture game: Pick Out The Hot People In The Room. I spend way too much time staring. Today was an especially fruitful day; many people were looking particularly smokin'. Plato: 0, FYP hotties: like, 50.

Sundays are for cleaning up

So, I promised pictures, and I finally cleaned my room enough to take some. I know it looks like a disaster, but for me... it's pretty good. Yikes, I have to impress prospies with this...

I'm pretty happy with it. I put up my photo wall today! It's much smaller than I had first imagined, because I have way less wall space than I hoped for, but I like how it turned out. I just keep looking over it, pick over every memory. It feels warm and familiar.

Saturday, 20 September 2008

Boob Tatt

Some of you may remember that when I was in Ohio, I crashed a "Boob Tatt" party where everyone drew fake tattoos onto their bosom. It was weird and awkward and funny. I thought it was a good idea for a party. I filed it away for future reference.

Because of that experience, I laughed out loud this morning when I woke up and found a sharpie tattoo on my boob.

I had completely forgotten that I let Gordon draw a pirate-y tattoo on my chest in the middle of the night. There is quite a posse of tattoo-ed victims of Gordon from last night.

Last night was the Middle Bay Cops and Robbers party -- which coincided with International Talk Like A Pirate Day. I rocked it in my pirate garb. I even had a sash which held my keys and my phone all night. I love it when costumes are utilitarian!

It was a decent party for sure, and the best part was how excited the Middle Bay boys were about the party. They try so hard. And we love them.

In other news, I got a job as one of the two FYP tour guides! I'm very excited to have this job, not only because it means money, and it gets worked around my school schedule. I'm also excited to be able to share King's with prospective students. I was a tour guide at Lisgar, basically doing the exact same job, and I loved it. I love interacting with people, and I'm really loving King's. I'll be that person that they remember who showed them around and (hopefully) showed them how awesome King's is.

There was a lot of hardcore competition between the dozen or so of us who tried for the job. My roomate and I both went for it... and it was a little awkward when I got it and she didn't. We aren't, like, BFFs, and sometimes it gets awkward. Luckily I spend more time in Davis and Seana's room down the hall than in mine. It's a really big room. We're getting a coffeetable!

Thursday, 18 September 2008

Not Reading

Here is what we do at King's. We read. Often outside on the quad, when it's nice. Those are my friends chilling and catching up on some Odyssey.

I have decided reading is for the lame. And those who are keen. So I will blog instead and not do my reading for tomorrow. Lecture seems to be a lot of recap most of the time anyway, so reading is not always necessary. Just recommended.

In the in the interest of not reading, I went shopping this afternoon with Davis's roommate. We hit up my favourite consignment store here (hello two dollar prom dress last year) and I found a lovely sweater for two dollars in the sale bin.

I pulled out a twenty to pay.

"Oh," the owner said, "I don't think I have enough fives..."
"Oh... I just used up all my change..." I replied, feeling awkward, trying to come up with a solution.
"You know what," she waves her hand, "just give me a twoonie next time you're in, if you remember. I probably won't."
"Oh... are you sure? I definitely will, I mean..."
"Yeah, don't worry about it."

I feel very shitty about it, but I will pay her back asap.

Toga party was not really the best. I stayed sober (no matter my best efforts) and so helped out some significantly less sober friends. I ended up on clean-up crew and at the thank you pizza and beer party (with last week's Odyssey lecture-er, randomly enough. Actually, the chaplain also stopped by the toga party when it was in full swing. The girl I was taking care of fell over into him). Upper years and I get along really well... but what else is new with me, really?

I'm in a little downer mood today, missing my home and my family, and then I watched Pulp Fiction, which was depressing, a little. My mom sent me a care package and I got it today with Season 1 of Battlestar, some Ottawa U newspapers and a new one of my favourite tank tops, the last one of which I wore out. My mom thinks of everything.

Monday, 15 September 2008

An Email To A Friend Which Has Become a Blog Post Since Time Runs Short Here

I hope this email is relatively coherent; last night was the first FYP sunday.

See, as you've heard, we're in FYP which is 4 out of 5 credits this year. It's nice and comforting and familiar because it's like high school. Every morning we head to the same room and see the same people and are all able to relate. I enjoy that a lot. The papers also recall high school. Some people talk about their psych classes or whatever and they have like three assignments all semester, but since this is 4 out of 5 credits, we have an essay due every two weeks. Last week was spent procrastinating by most people; everyone was always asking everyone else how their essay was coming, either because they were afraid or they wanted to brag, or they'd already exhausted the typical lunch line opener, "How was your night last night?". That one is always fun.

My brain is totally fried and it's because of FYP Sunday. I was so good last week; I started my essay on Wednesday and I was done by sat night when we decided to go out. I was all set. And then the freakouts started. Sarah, Davis, Davis's roommate Seana and I were all majorly stressed and freaking out. There are so many stringent rules about formatting and everything with the papers, and we were just all so worried that high school had permanently fixed "POINT-PROOF-SUPPORT" essays into our brains. This is something that all the teachers here hate. But I digress. There was a lot of stress, and not breathing and freaking out, and then I decided to hate myself and take my essay over to something called "Study Snacks" where upper years edit FYP papers. People were coming back with their papers ripped apart and a whole essay to rewrite at 11 at night. My essay was done, I took it to a friend who is in second year, and he edited my paper and liked it, and I didnt need to overhaul! ...but I did have edits to do, and those took a couple hours. The moral of the story? No matter how hard you try, you will always be up late FYP Sunday.

I ended up being up until seven, so right now I'm functioning on basically no sleep (1 hour). Adrenaline is fun! And caffeine. I was helping a friend with his essay and goofing off and hanging out and it was probably a bad call... but it was fun. I'm in university! I'm meant to sleep poorly and do crazy shit and do whatever I want...

But what makes FYP sunday all worthwhile is FYP monday, where we party. Mondays are a big party night here, since Tuesday is the day we have off FYP. I have the most class on Tuesday since I'm a Journalism major, but not until the afternoon, so plenty of time to sleep off FYP monday festivities. Tonight is a big toga party in Chapel Bay, and it's been a big deal for a week. Every floor and bay had to chip in alcohol and stuff -- I was impressed with their level of organisation. Radical Bay and Chapel Bay have been fighting over who gets to be the party bay, and we in Alex Hall are just enjoying the free booze and fun times.

Well, I have to run to my Tutorial, but I'll write you next time about the toga party and how that goes! Maybe I'll get some sleep. Maybe.

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

The Epic of Internet (in which Evey's internet struggles mirror slightly the Epic of Gilgamesh)*

First, I expected the internet to do my bidding, and to just WORK. It must do my bidding in all things so that I might goof off and watch TV and msn with far away friends. But as days wore on, I came to understand that the internet is important and requires my respect and far from goofing, it is required for things like printing my essay. So I ventured through the underworld of maintenance. And it was dark and I could see nothing around me. Until my neighbour lent me her extra cord. I'm still waiting for maintenance. UGH.

Alright, that was silly.

Hurray internet! Here, I will catch you up on photos.

This is me being MATRICULATED! At King's one of the ways in which we rock is that students are members of the university. So last week, I put on my formal academic gown and walked over to the chapel and signed the Matricula. My name is there! I have this image of someday, my great-great grandchildren will search for their roots and go to King's and look in the Matricula and see my name.

We've been assigned our first essay and I'm totally freaked out. I have to write, and be smart, and have a thesis and... I am totally clueless and don't know what to write. There are several stages to Evey Writing An Essay, and I'm still in Denial. I foresee it lasting until later on tonight, when I will need to get to work.

Enough lollygagging on the internet. It is time to get some reading done before my Journalism class -- five hours of classes on a day the rest of the program has off. So. Fun times.

I just got a phone call and a package arrived for me! I will go and fetch it.

*It's a stretch

Saturday, 6 September 2008

University lessons

I have a bad habit of getting very emotionally attached to my stuff. That's why my dorm room is crammed full of various books, CDs, and posters that I like have with me. I freak out when I lose anything, because it's worth so much to me emotionally. Some people think this is weird. Others would call it unhealthy (probably rightly so). This is why I was so afraid of doing laundry - I love my clothes.

My wardrobe is a carefully assembled collection of pieces that make me feel good. Each one has a purpose and a story. My Westfest T-shirt I bought on sale after Andrea's concert that makes me feel, okay, well, cool. My fancy jeans I bought on sale with my mom while visiting King's this past spring. The vintage skirt my favourite babysitter gave me when I was still in public school and continues to be a staple of my wardrobe* How I feel depends a great deal on how I feel I look, so clothes are important to me.

Today was the day. Sarah and I made plans to do our laundry together so she could supervise med since I had never done laundry before in my life. Not once. This is a valuable skill to have, one I likely should have acquired years ago, however, did not and now I'm here. I gathered my dirty laundry, my quarters and my book and met Sarah in the laundry room. What I learned: laundry is not so scary. Well, the final load is in the dryer right now, so I could have just shrunk all my underwear very very small, but those are easily replaced. Everything I cared a lot about I hung up on my lovely, old, wooden drying rack my mother passed on to me (and which I'm very attached to). It's drying as we speak.

It was a light load, since I haven't been here long, but I have a question for next time: can I put jeans in the dryer? Sarah did, but at my house we hang dry almost everything. That's ok with t-shirts, but hang drying jeans will take forever... and I don't want to leave my jeans unattended in the laundry room overnight.

*It's a wrap skirt, not a magical growing skirt as might first be assumed**
**I always assume magic when I don't understand something! Like, for instance, calculus.

Friday, 5 September 2008


I'm in a good mood today.

Maybe it's because I just had my third day of classes and my lecture and tutorial seem totally manageable. When I got here, I was very, very afraid. This is UNIVERSITY. Smart people go here. It's an intense program. What if I can't keep up with it?

Falling into a routine has helped. Waking up, getting breakfast, going to lecture and meeting up with my friends. Then discussing lecture, eating lunch, going to tutorial. After tutorial I have my time to do whatever needs to get done. Right now it's been a million different errands I need to run, phone numbers I need to call, people I need to talk to, etc.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because my room is finally cleared up. I'm working on a system that will work well for me, and I'm not completely finished yet, but last night I stayed up until 1:30 am clearing up and reorganising my room. Now I walk in and feel calm.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because this morning when I woke up I turned on the CBC and listened to the news and it made me feel... safe. It's familiar.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because it's another gorgeous, sunny day outside and after I finish writing this I will go outside to read on the quad.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because I won beer last night at the casino night I enjoyed way more than I thought I would.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because I'm incredibly lucky to have my two best friends here with me supporting me, holding me, laughing with me, crying with me.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because I'm not thinking about the two 6:30 am practices for rugby next week, or the pain that much of my body is in because of rugby and instead basking in the alien but pleasing idea of me on a university varsity team.

Maybe I'm in a good mood because I had eggs for breakfast. I love eggs.

This weekend I'm skipping the last Frosh activity ("Beach Day") and sleeping in and chilling and reading and settling into my new space. Nesting. Also, ignoring the fact that we've been assigned our first essay and it's due a week from Monday and I'm totally stumped. I'm hoping the ideas will come, cause in case you didn't know, the Epic of Gilgamesh is totally awesome. I'm guessing I'll be spending a lot of time inside once the remnants of tropical storm Hanna hit Halifax since I don't have my rain boots yet. And it's gonna be yucky outside.

But today is for the sun!

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

A vicious attack

Last night I was violently beaten up by Rugby.

Technically, I was the one who elected to try for the girls' varsity rugby team, so it was self-inflicted, but I still felt like a group of hooligans had been at me with bats when I woke up this morning. Big ones. Probably made of metal.

It didn't help that rugby came at the end of a long day involving waking up early to make it to breakfast, a wonderful lecture about traditions at King's*, and a three and a half hour long trek around Halifax disguised as a "scavenger hunt". By the end my legs were ready to fall off, but then... rugby! I sat down on my bed and briefly considered taking a nap instead of going. I seriously weighed the idea in my mind. Then I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on some workout gear, and went to meet the team.

Instantly, I was pretty terrified. I haven't played rugby in two years, and I haven't been doing much physical exercise lately either. There had also been horror stories told to me by my Frosh leaders about fitness runs up Citadel Hill. If you've been to Halifax and seen the Citadel, you're probably cringing right now. Unless you are a runner, in which case I envy your cardio abilities a lot, because by the middle of the rugby practice, I wanted to lay down and die. Actually, the low point came while lying on the ground in the middle of a "jump up off the ground and sprint" drill. I almost puked, provoking a yell of "If you have to puke, puke, but just run!" from the beast coach Ronnie. Yikes. I tried to make up for it by focusing and yelling "LEFT!" and "RIGHT!" really loudly to get the ball. Since the team is so small, they don't do cuts; if you show up to practices, you're on the team, basically. Hopefully.

After rugby, I was seriously considering bedtime, but most of the girls from the team were heading to Retro Night at the campus bar (the Wardroom), so I hurried back, took a shower, donned some retro gear and ran off to a party. Now, for those of you doing the math, this means I'd missed dinner, I was dehydrated, and now I was drinking. This adds up to the killerest hangover of my life, mixed with every muscle aching. I spent a good chunk of today sprawled in various places, trying to work up the will to move my body.

And tomorrow is the next practice! Hurray! So after my first classes tomorrow, I will run to the shops to grab a mouth guard, some socks and a nose stud to replace my ring which I will get out of my nose... somehow. I'm incredibly anxious about tomorrow: starting lecture and tutorial, getting everything ready for rugby, keeping up with frosh events... Things no longer get scheduled for me. Things overlap and I just gotta choose, because no one is going to schedule it for me. It's all on me.

*ok, so maybe it was a propaganda speech about how awesome we are. The thing is, we are. No lies there. None of this scary U of T "FAMOUS PEOPLE STUDIED HERE" business. We are just legitimately awesome. Clearly.