Random Thoughts

Why is it that when I click on my profile I can see my picture no problem, but on my blog it won't display? What gives?

I'm drowning in work. It wouldn't be so bad except that I don't want to do any of it and have absolutely zip motivation.

My back is killing me. I have an assessment with the physiotherapist on Friday afternoon to assess my "mid-back muscle spasms", as described by my doctor. It's not so much a spasm-ing as it is just tight and painful all the time. I have limited reach without pain, and bending hurts a lot. We'll see what the physiotherapist (Liz) says.

My roommates are driving me flipping batty. They scream and yell and swear constantly. I'm spending as little time here as possible and counting down the days. Counting down. 89 days until my lease is up. 89 days.

What do you see?

Some days, walking through campus, I feel on top of the world. Some days I see all kinds of people that I know. They smile, I wave. We stop and talk for a few moments, and then go about our days. Some days we yell greetings at each other as we pass by in the crowded halls.

Some days. Not today.

Today I've seen many people that I know, and every one has passed by without recognizing. I've smiled and waved, and gotten no response. It makes me wonder, am I really here? If they're not seeing me, then what are they seeing in the space that I fill?

Perhaps all they see is a girl wearing glasses, her hair pulled back, trudging along with books. Perhaps all they see is the comfortably conformist clothing I wear on days I plan to just spend reading in the concourse. It's not brand name, it doesn't have catchy slogans written across it. It's gray, it's wallflower, it's unordinary. Is it possible that on days like this I fade enough into the background of acceptable society that I become invisibile?

Some days it feels like I'm walking alone

Doors

A thought occurred to me while reading about the Hofriyat, a very spatially aware Muslim people in Sudan. This thought had to do with entrances to homes. Doors. Specifically, which doors are appropriate for which people. A front door stands up to the world. Salesmen and politicians knock at it, Jehovah’s witnesses convert at it, strangers ring for directions, distant relatives arrive bearing gifts at it; the front door is strong and confident. The back door is hidden, often fenced in, private. The back door opens to have family bring in groceries and take out laundry to the line, to let the children out to play, and the dog out to pee; the back door is personal.
A friend who was close to me throughout high school explained that his family never answered their front door, because they knew that their friends and family would simply let themselves in the back, knocking and hollering as they came. At first I was very timid, creeping in the door and feeling shy, as though I had violated some rule – which, according to society, I now realize I had. As I became more comfortable with his family, I was the one to fling the door open wide and announce our arrival, dragging the timid behind me along.
You know that saying, “home is where the heart is”? I believe that a better expression would be “home is where you enter through the back”.

Sock'd Haley

Sock'd Haley
Originally uploaded by Jackie Lynne.

Jackie and I went dress shopping.
Jackie and I had fun in the changeroom.
Jackie took pictures of me wearing one shoe and one sock.

Pirate wenches
Originally uploaded by Jackie Lynne.

Look, we're wearing the same dress! I'm not sure how this makes us pirates though...Jackie?

Bursting with Joy

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or their blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes that I've ever seen.

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is now you're in the world.

I just love this song.
(Moulin Rouge cover of Elton John)

Mock-Liberal Ad

Stephen Harper has a dog.
You know who else had a dog?
Adolf Hitler.
Does Stephen Harper train his dog to attack racial minorities?
We don't know.
He isn't saying.
Choose your Canada.

Oh the Humanity

I voted NDP, darn it! ANYTHING but the conservatives. As a student, and financially unstable, I am afeard. Don't destroy my Canada!

Art Thou Pale for Weariness

Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
Wandering companionless
Among the stars that have a different birth,
And ever changing, like a joyless eye
That finds no object worth its constancy?



("Art thou pale for weariness" a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley)

Much News

First and foremost: Jackie and I are signing for an apartment today. We toured it earlier this week, and it was fantastic. It's big, cheap, and relatively close to campus. We get it in September, and I'm tremendously excited. It has the feel of an actual apartment, as opposed to the tiny crammed places typical of student housing.

Secondly: I heard from the organization that is helping me with the sex tourism campaign I'm running next month, and they're both providing me with pamphlets and a doccumentary, free of charge! Next week I'm running a workshop for the volunteers and some campus clubs, in order to get everybody reved up for the campaign.

Thirdly: I've been in the computer lab for 3 hours now, and I'm firmly convinced that they bought the most uncomfortable chairs possible just to encourage students to move on more quickly - because heaven knows that makes more sense than actually providing the school with enough computer labs!! I'm suffering from a severe case of numb bum.

That's all for now!

The Concept of Culture

One of the major questions in anthropology is regarding the adequacy of the concept of "culture". Culture, as understood in an anthropological light, is knowledge that allows us to interpret experience and generate behaviour, beliefs, values, norms and ideologies. In comparison with the 19th century explanation of difference based on "race", the introduction of the term "culture" was certainly not negative. It took the emphasis off of biology as the determining factor for difference, yet what did it bring us to?

There is the feeling that "cultures" are bound, coherent, self contained, timeless and static. This is why we can talk about "aboriginal culture", "Indian culture", "Brazilian culture", etc. Yet this really produces imagined communities. These things don't really exist. What we are talking about when we speak of these cultures is a generalization of a people, based on a studied few. To put this in perspective, think about how we would discuss Canadian culture. How could we talk about Canadian culture to include anglo-europeans, franco-europeans, metis, foreign immigrants, and the numerous different aboriginal groups? There is no one culture that encompasses all these groups, and yet we can read material talking about what it means to be Canadian, and to live in a Canadian community. What makes us think that the material about what it means to live in Brazil, and maintain Brazilian identity, are any more accurate?

One of the major questions in anthropology is whether we have exoticized the "other" through ethnographic representation of culture. Are we "culture collecting"? Have we essentialized cultures? Is the use of "culture" just masking an underlying prejudice against different peoples?

How strange to be in a discipline that cannot even be unanimously decided on one of its very key concepts.

Genealogical Leap

Over Christmas I caught the genealogy bug, and have been working on it in bits and pieces since then, whenever I can find the time. I knew the name of my great-great-great-great-grandfather, Charles, but that was as far back as it went. I managed to find the name of my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather off of a christening certificate for Charles, and discovered that his name was Joseph, and he was married to Ellen somebody. This was a bit of a Eureka in and of itself. At that point in history, I lost them. Their names completely disappeared from the records. Drat!

Hoping for the best, I posted the information on a genealogy webpage, and today I got an email from my 4th cousin twice removed, still living in the UK. Her great-great-great-grandfather was Joseph's brother, Jeremiah, and she had been looking for information about Charles, who she had lost in 1859! I sent her all of my genealogical information, and she's going to send me hers. Just think, I've discovered a branch of our family that we didn't even know existed up until today!

I'm so excited to get that information from her!

Repetitive Malinowski

These last two weeks, I have heard more about Bronislaw Malinowski than anything else.

Malinowski reinvented anthropology. He created a new way of looking at anthropological events, reinvented fieldwork, and was, arguably the most influential figures in creating modern-day anthropology.

Alright, so he was a great guy. Yes, he left a legacy. Yes, we should all know about his work. But do I have to have three 75 minute lectures on him a day?? Get on to another topic, already!

Rude!

For those who don't know, I work at an on campus coffee shop. There are several locations on campus, and I work in the largest one. Today one of the girls that works at the one in the Peter's building came down to ask for someone to fill in while they take their breaks, since one of their student workers didn't show up. Now, this particular woman, who we will call Judy, doesn't like me. I don't know why, everyone else does, but whenever I fill in up there I can't do anything wrong and she's just plain nasty - blaming me for things that I haven't come within a mile of.

Anyways, today she comes in and asks Shelly, my manager, if she can send one of us students down to fill in. Shelly agrees, and then Judy very pointedly looks at me and says, "you'll send Lauryn, right?"

How F-ing Rude can you get?? I was standing RIGHT THERE. What a b*tch. I don't care if she doesn't like me, but she doesn't need to rub it in my face like that.

Kittens on Sunday

This afternoon Tristan picked me up and we went to pick out a new kitten at the humane society. We looked at two. The first one was a long-haired calico-ish female, one year old. She was very very affectionate and cuddly, but she didn't sit still for half a second and drooled profusely. If it had been up to me I still probably would have taken her home, because she was just so cute. However, since Tristan was the one buying, we looked at the second cat as well. He was a four month old black and white short hair calico. He was very active as well, but an incredibly clutz and he had a tiny meow that sounded almost like a hiss. Still, he won Tristan over and we ended up taking him. He is a very cute cat, there is no denying it, I just always want to take them all home with me.

The new cat, who we believe will be called Achilles (this is still under debate). The name has to go with the theme, since Tristan's other cat is named Apollo, and his parents cats are Zeus, Athena, and...I forget the third one.

Then I went to my aunt's place for supper, and copied out all the family genealogy that she had. Now I have a lot more to go on, whenever I can find time to do some more research.

I'd better get to bed since I have to be up in 7 hours for the day. Joy of joys.

Christmas Pictures? Finally!

For starters: This was the beginning of our Christmas tree. At this point, it only has our little angel on top and the lights strung on, but more importantly, and you might not be able to see it so well from this shot, it is strung to the ceiling with wire. Why? Not because it was too big, not because it was tipsy, but because of another much more animate reason...


Rumble! Rumble decided it was the very best thing in the world to climb the tree. It was impossible to get a good shot of him since he stayed in close to the trunk and moved so darn fast, but that little gray blur in the tree is my kitten.

It seemed like he was determined to be a scamp the entire time. When he wasn't climbing the tree, he was staring at Boots. It made Boots pretty nervous too, and there was much whining from the poor dog. Boots knew that as soon as he left the bowl...

Rumble would be eating his kibble!

More pictures to come...but I have to go to class now. Yay class!

Discomfort & Irritation

My roommates have this bizarre habit of leaving the washroom doors open while they do their business. Not only that, but they sing vulgar camp songs while doing so, or yell comments to each other about what they are doing at that present moment, or, on the rare occasion, treat us all to a description of their latest trip to the spa for waxing.

Do I require this information? Does anybody other than these girls find this behaviour entertaining or appropriate?

My response: I've only known you for 2 months, shut the f*cking door.