Good News!!

So, my devoted readers are likely long gone. Yet, I must fore-tell of a great future event. I will be getting internet at home (as a Valentines Day gift to myself) and will therefore be back on the blogging circuit. Yay!

Talk to you all again soon.

"Let's Sing a Song

For Hazey Jane." II

I'm back. I remembered this morning that the joy in starting over again is that I get to take all the best parts of the past with me. I get to keep the best parts of city_girl and leave the pips behind.

"Take a little while to find your way in here... Take a little while to make your story clear."

I think I may have found my way. Or clues to that way, if nothing else. I think I may have found what I need to make this law school experience what I would like it to be. I need to study hard and play hard. I need to enjoy the Northern Lights and the crunch of snow under my boots at the beginning of October.

I have a bit of ground to make up. A few mistakes to rectify.

"And what will happen in the evening in the forest with the weasel with the teeth that bite so sharp when you're not looking in the evening."

So, I didn't realize that a weasel would have such sharp teeth, but I get to decide what will happen because of them. I get to weave that choice into part of my story...

by myself...

"And all the friends that you once knew are left behind they kept you safe and so secure amongst the books and all the records of your lifetime."

I miss you guys.

Obeying the Law is Freedom

Last night I went to the Bloor Cinema in Toronto. It's one of those cute little theatres that makes me feel like life is still simple. The screen is small, the bathrooms are upstairs behind the balcony and popcorn and a drink will set you back only $5.

They were showing "Sir No Sir" about the Vietnam War deserters, particularly the G.I.s who were fighting against the war from within.

After the film there was a Q&A session with Vietnam deserters (and draft dodgers), as well as current American military deserters from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The discussion centered around the current Canadian government attitude to these men, and how it is an about face from the attitude of Trudeau during Vietnam.

The legality of Iraq and morality of war aside, I was shocked that Canada was making it so difficult for these men to seek asylum in Canada. Shocked and disappointed. I encourage those of you who still check into this blog to take a gander at the War Resisters Support Campaign (by clicking here) and consider signing their petition.

Last night was nice. It was great. It was one of those nights that I didn't want to end. Where J and I bought coffee after just to keep talking, to keep figuring things out. Frankly, it was the first time in ages that I've been turned on by anything, tuned in to anything. Thanks for a great night J!

Wanting to Rip My Heart Out

This heart that betrays me. Keeps me attached when no attachment is warranted. How I wish I could control my own emotions better. *sigh*

In lighter news, I have met up w/ J (the Canadian guy I hung out with in SA -- who worked for the NM Foundation). He's back in Canada, and it is so nice to have an intellectual conversation with him.

I may start back to work on Monday. Somehow, I think I will miss being free as a bird. Well, with time, if not with money.

Hope you are all well.

Women: Go Team Go!

During the last month I've realized something about women: We are NOT each others biggest cheerleaders. We just don't do it. Behind almost every "best wish" about a fellow woman's plans for growth is a hint of disdain. A thinly veiled hope for failure. (And in my case, apparently whispered (ridiculously infuriating) conversations about inappropriate driving forces for my late bloom).

Are today's women so insecure that they have to secretly wish that their friends fail? Are women so afraid of their own shortcomings that they have to embrace the short comings of other women, thus warding off growth?

I'm not asking for blind, over-the-top, smile and best-wishes for everything sentiments. Tree-hugging for women is not my goal. But come on ladies, if the goals are admirable, attainable and honest, let's root for each other!

Let's start accepting that a girlfriend finding love isn't an insult to our own single status. That a career move for one is not an indication of the inferiority of others. Let's start realizing that as one of us grows and develops, it creates more opportunities and positive space for all of us.

And lastly, let's stop treating our female friends like the envied highschool cheerleader. Let's stop talking about each other behind backs. Gossiping and making rude and preposterous assumptions without ever stopping to ask our friend for the real story.

A friend is defined as a person whom one knows, likes and trusts; a person with whom one is allied with; one who supports and sympathizes with.

With our fellow women with whom we wish to maintain friendships, let's make sure that we truly know each other. That we like and trust one another. Let's become fierce allies in the battles the world throws us and that we create for ourselves. Let's support each other in our struggles to grow and sympathize with each other when that struggle gets tough.

Let's start cheering for each other.

SAVE YOUR MONEY!!

Okay Ladies,

Here it is, the end of my contract upon me, and I'm freaking out about money. How do I save money for school and the future and still live a life? Low and behold, MSN has all these articles (click here) this morning about saving on a shoe string, and how to earn a million.

Interestingly, these articles (at least the ones I've read so far) are written by women. Yet, actual financial stability is something I have rarely (if ever) talked to my girlfriends about. As women in 2006 though, I think it's important to develop our own financial strategies, and stop waiting for the white knight to swoop into our lives with a heftyy pension.

So take a look, start saving, and let's all retire together with enough money to finally be ladies who lunch!

A Zimbabwean Wedding

I went to Zimbabwe this past weekend. I had a great time. I saw the sights in Victoria Falls and met lots of great people.
One person that I met was D. He was a Zimbabwean, one of the guides on my white water rafting trip. He was pleasant. Nice enough. When he asked me to go for a beer, I figured the company would be nice. We had a good chat. I picked his brain about the political situation in Zimbabwe.

When it became clear that I was footing the bill for the beer, I had to insist that he walk me home, as I wouldn't have enough for both our beers and a cab. (Vic Falls is really expensive).

On the way home, he said that the whole town would have seen him walking with a white woman, and that by the morning, they would all be talking about his foreign girlfriend.

Menh, whatever, was all I had thought. People talk a lot of sh*t, the world over. As long as he doesn't believe it.

He said that we should be pen pals, which seemed harmless and a good opportunity to ask the rest of my political questions. We exchanged addresses.

As we neared my hostel he said that if we married he would move to Canada to be with me. Then he asked to kiss me.

What the f*ck?!? Sorry. Not going to happen.

He asked that I go visit him the next morning before I go to the airport. I said I would see what I could do, and slipped through the gate and to my bed. And away from the whole mess.

I woke up in the middle of the night worried about this situation. He had obviously misunderstood me and was thinking that he actually had a foreign girlfriend. Realizing I was not going to fix the situation by worrying about it, I decided to forget the fact that he had my contact info in Joburg, and go back to sleep.

I went to visit the Falls the next morning, and then flew back to civilization (otherwise known as Johannesburg) without stopping to say goodbye. I really didn't want to deal with the situation and hoped that not stopping by would be a huge hint.

Days went by and I eventually forgot about D and the whole fiasco. Until my phone rang last night. He was calling and he wanted me to call him back. I really didn't have enough air time for a long distance call to Zimbabwe, and I had hoped that in refusing to call him back he would understand that I was 'just not that into him'.

Nope, he said to give him 10 minutes and he would call me.

Sh*t! So, I brainstormed with my housemate (who appeared a bit freaked out that this guy had her address -- which I told her he had taken from my liability waiver, which he could have had I not given it to him... ).

When the phone rang again, I wove a tale to D about my ex-boyfriend having invited me out for Valentine's day to ask me to forgive him and take him back. So, we were giving it another shot and I was moving into his house in Pretoria at that moment. I had hoped this would be enough to finish things.

"Won't you email me tomorrow?" he asked.

Jesus!!

Not sure if he had understood what I had said to him (the connection was REALLY bad), I told him I would email.

This morning I sent another email explaining about this boyfriend "Joe" and how I was terribly sorry for him getting caught in the middle of this but I really loved Joe and had to give this a try. And that I didn't think it was appropriate for me to be in contact with another man while I was working things out with Joe. Who lives in Pretoria. (Please let the Pretoria comment sink in... don't try to contact me at the house or my housemate will freak!).

Anyway, I feel like a cross between of a b*tch and an idiot now. I assume this guy was just wanting a way out of Zim, but please: I'm not the way. And how was I to know that walking with someone, or having a beer with them, or being pen pals meant that you were romantically interested in that person in Zimbabwe?!? When did an exchange of address equal an exchange of intent to marry?

Bah! That's it. I'm going to start wearing a Burqa and stop talking to men altogether!! I really hope this guy stops contacting me. I don't want to hurt his feelings. I do feel bad about the whole situation, but I really didn't think he was going to misinterpret the situation. In fact, I do remember saying (when he asked if I was seeing anyone in SA) that I wasn't interested in starting a relationship because I was returning to Canada soon.

[Ah, can hear his thought process now -- she wants to be in Canada, so I will go with her, and then we can be together.]

Yup, okay, it's official. Burqa it is. No more conversations with men. There is just no getting through to them verbally, so I will have to cut all ties!!!

This is my Canada

This is what I grew up with. This is winter. Home. This is Canada. This is my Canada.

How I love these days. Waking up to a white world. Nothing moves, but the blowing snow. Families are nestled at home together. The world is quiet.

At least for the morning.

The afternoon, when the snow has stopped, neighbours greet each other as they shovel their driveways. Kids play together in the snow. The Atlantic Canada Community is built on snow.