"... you make take our lives, but you will never take.. our.... FREEDOM!!!!!"
And with those classic words I rejoice. I'm done. Free. Gone.
My history exam was 18 pages double spaced. Two hours. Horrid.
My final exam was a maze of double negatives (i.e. "What did this insert author you've never heard of not reject of the following 10 statements: insert statements with words like perichoresis, consistendia, obfuscation, teleological, escatological... well you get the point...
A) 1 and 2
B) 2 and 4
C) 1, 2, and 6
D) All of the above
E) What???
Needless to say, most of my answers had something to do with E.
That being said, I'm looking forward to fencing tonight where I will make some people wither before the exhausted fury of my attack. And I'm looking forward to coming home for Christmas! Yeay!
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
It's been a while.
So, it's been a while since I wrote, but I feel justified since it is exam week, and I have four finals in three days. (One down, three to go...)
Anyways, I just wanted to mention this. The UK is a magical place to me. Why you ask? It's so... non-North American!!
Take for example the "Britain's Got Talent" first run through. At the end of the first season, we have a dumpy, chubby, middle aged, cell-phone salesman with a broken tooth, who sings opera. Yup, in the finals of "Britain's Got Talent" little Paul Potts with his opera.
Watch his first break here. Believe me, it is worth the watch.
Who is his competition? Some young, good-looking girl with a sweet voice? Well... sort of. Connie Talbot, at 6 years old, came all the way to the final, bewitching crowds with her entirely honest answers and singing "somewhere over the rainbow". See her first moment here. Not as good as Paul, but still fun. (She has the cutest accent ever.)
Now why does this impress me so much? Look at the American Idols. Kelly Clarkson. Ruben Studdard. Fantasia Barino. (and of course, honourable mention to Clay Aiken in the second season). All young. All good looking. All probably the coolest kid in school. These weren't talent contests, they were people voting for whom they most wanted to be.
Britain had the real "rags to riches story". It is the land of real modern fairy tales.
Anyways, I just wanted to mention this. The UK is a magical place to me. Why you ask? It's so... non-North American!!
Take for example the "Britain's Got Talent" first run through. At the end of the first season, we have a dumpy, chubby, middle aged, cell-phone salesman with a broken tooth, who sings opera. Yup, in the finals of "Britain's Got Talent" little Paul Potts with his opera.
Watch his first break here. Believe me, it is worth the watch.
Who is his competition? Some young, good-looking girl with a sweet voice? Well... sort of. Connie Talbot, at 6 years old, came all the way to the final, bewitching crowds with her entirely honest answers and singing "somewhere over the rainbow". See her first moment here. Not as good as Paul, but still fun. (She has the cutest accent ever.)
Now why does this impress me so much? Look at the American Idols. Kelly Clarkson. Ruben Studdard. Fantasia Barino. (and of course, honourable mention to Clay Aiken in the second season). All young. All good looking. All probably the coolest kid in school. These weren't talent contests, they were people voting for whom they most wanted to be.
Britain had the real "rags to riches story". It is the land of real modern fairy tales.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Winter Walks
I live in a beautiful place.
About a block from my home there is a path into an old growth forest. Hemlocks, cedars and Douglas firs rise majestically around the small winding paths. Every time I go for a walk (which I try to do every sunny day) I feel like I've been transported into a magical world. The trees have throttled out almost all the undergrowth in the really deep parts of the forest, so you can see the rows upon rows of trunks, surrounding you for as far as you can see. It feels as if you have entered the huge, pillared hall of a European basilica. The sun can't quite peak through all the branches, and so everything is bathed in a warm green light. Moss covers nearly every surface, adding to the feeling of warmth and age.
This is the place where fairy tales happen. This is where the great adventurers find their deeds of courage and love. This is the worship place of the ancient Celts. This is sacred ground.
Then, when you are convinced that the land couldn't be any more beautiful, you come to a clearing at the crest of a hill. Out before you a wide vista arises, displaying snow-capped mountains glittering in the sun, entrancing you with their distant song. Your heart breaks with the beauty, the desire, and the joy of it all.
You pray, you praise, you worship. Not because you intended to, but because it explodes out without warning, bubbling up, flooding over your soul.
Then, inevitably, the moment passes. You remember that paper that you should be writing. You remember the duties of home. You remember the chores that await you there. Slowly, unwillingly, you turn to leave.
But not for long. You will soon return to this place of mystery and wonder.
But that will be another day.
About a block from my home there is a path into an old growth forest. Hemlocks, cedars and Douglas firs rise majestically around the small winding paths. Every time I go for a walk (which I try to do every sunny day) I feel like I've been transported into a magical world. The trees have throttled out almost all the undergrowth in the really deep parts of the forest, so you can see the rows upon rows of trunks, surrounding you for as far as you can see. It feels as if you have entered the huge, pillared hall of a European basilica. The sun can't quite peak through all the branches, and so everything is bathed in a warm green light. Moss covers nearly every surface, adding to the feeling of warmth and age.
This is the place where fairy tales happen. This is where the great adventurers find their deeds of courage and love. This is the worship place of the ancient Celts. This is sacred ground.
Then, when you are convinced that the land couldn't be any more beautiful, you come to a clearing at the crest of a hill. Out before you a wide vista arises, displaying snow-capped mountains glittering in the sun, entrancing you with their distant song. Your heart breaks with the beauty, the desire, and the joy of it all.
You pray, you praise, you worship. Not because you intended to, but because it explodes out without warning, bubbling up, flooding over your soul.
Then, inevitably, the moment passes. You remember that paper that you should be writing. You remember the duties of home. You remember the chores that await you there. Slowly, unwillingly, you turn to leave.
But not for long. You will soon return to this place of mystery and wonder.
But that will be another day.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Come Back!
Return! Return ye harbingers of good weather and bright sun!!
The entire week my parents were here, we had the nicest week in terms of weather that I have seen since my first few weeks here. True, it poured on the first Saturday, but since then it was mostly blue skies, sunshine, and wonderfully warm weather.
No sooner did the get on the plane to go home than it started snowing. That's right. Snowing. Not lots, but enough to accumulate into a thin layer of ice everywhere. And it hasn't been even remotely sunny since. In fact, it is so dark and gloomy, I sometimes wonder if the sun has decided to get up behind those clouds at all.
In other news, I'm writing a history paper contrasting St. Bernard of Clairvaux's preaching and ideals of the Second Crusade with what actually happened. I have literally piles of books around me, several web sources, and no ideas. Not than I don't know what to write, I just don't have the slightest clue where one starts with such a complex, massive subject when there are only a few pages in which to contain your ideas. Well, back to work. And more tea. I've had so much tea lately, I pretty certain that I'm rivaling the rainfall here in terms of water-output.
Warning: Don't poke me. Random crusade facts may spill out.
The entire week my parents were here, we had the nicest week in terms of weather that I have seen since my first few weeks here. True, it poured on the first Saturday, but since then it was mostly blue skies, sunshine, and wonderfully warm weather.
No sooner did the get on the plane to go home than it started snowing. That's right. Snowing. Not lots, but enough to accumulate into a thin layer of ice everywhere. And it hasn't been even remotely sunny since. In fact, it is so dark and gloomy, I sometimes wonder if the sun has decided to get up behind those clouds at all.
In other news, I'm writing a history paper contrasting St. Bernard of Clairvaux's preaching and ideals of the Second Crusade with what actually happened. I have literally piles of books around me, several web sources, and no ideas. Not than I don't know what to write, I just don't have the slightest clue where one starts with such a complex, massive subject when there are only a few pages in which to contain your ideas. Well, back to work. And more tea. I've had so much tea lately, I pretty certain that I'm rivaling the rainfall here in terms of water-output.
Warning: Don't poke me. Random crusade facts may spill out.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Jack
There is something about the tortuous delight in reading C. S. Lewis that captivates me every time. The beauty of a phrase, the clarity of thought, the vivid pictures that come to mind.
Even just flipping through a book to find something arouses all the same joy, the same exquisite painfulness that it did the first time through. You are caught in something partway between an adventure and a dull chore. The very monotony of turning pages and moving your eyes becomes tiresome, but you can hardly absorb enough words at any one glance! You want to rush forward to see what will happen, and to experience the new vistas that unfold before you, but you also try to hold back and savour each moment as it passes.
It is thrilling, compelling, heart-wrenching. Desire nearly overwhelms you with its force. It is like driving to see an old friend. The ride can hardly be over fast enough, but the bitter-sweet desire of waiting is itself part of the joy.
It feels like life.
Even just flipping through a book to find something arouses all the same joy, the same exquisite painfulness that it did the first time through. You are caught in something partway between an adventure and a dull chore. The very monotony of turning pages and moving your eyes becomes tiresome, but you can hardly absorb enough words at any one glance! You want to rush forward to see what will happen, and to experience the new vistas that unfold before you, but you also try to hold back and savour each moment as it passes.
It is thrilling, compelling, heart-wrenching. Desire nearly overwhelms you with its force. It is like driving to see an old friend. The ride can hardly be over fast enough, but the bitter-sweet desire of waiting is itself part of the joy.
It feels like life.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Rents!
So, my parents are in town.
My dad has a conference, and so my mom, dad, and my mom's best friend are all congregating here in Vancouver for a week. I'm looking forward to a nice week of spoiled eating, etc. etc.
It's also reading week, so I'm studying my bum off, because after this, it'll be straight through to exams.
My dad has a conference, and so my mom, dad, and my mom's best friend are all congregating here in Vancouver for a week. I'm looking forward to a nice week of spoiled eating, etc. etc.
It's also reading week, so I'm studying my bum off, because after this, it'll be straight through to exams.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Work...
So, I just had my first shift at my new job: the UBC ropes course.
I basically facilitate groups coming by to do team building, group work, outdoor adventures and so forth. I though that I would get some little kids who wouldn't notice my blunders, or when I really didn't know what I was talking about.
No such luck. 8 boys and 2 girls, all grade 12. Mine for 4 hours. Well, I made it! I'm still alive. And it was a beautiful day, so that made things better as well. Time to study!
And my parents are coming out this next week! I am super excited about that.
I basically facilitate groups coming by to do team building, group work, outdoor adventures and so forth. I though that I would get some little kids who wouldn't notice my blunders, or when I really didn't know what I was talking about.
No such luck. 8 boys and 2 girls, all grade 12. Mine for 4 hours. Well, I made it! I'm still alive. And it was a beautiful day, so that made things better as well. Time to study!
And my parents are coming out this next week! I am super excited about that.
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