...and now for something completely different...

I saw the SATC movie. There was a quote in it that I wanted to use, but of course, after seeing it I promptly forgot the quote. I once answered the question "I remember things now just as well as I used to" with the answer 'true.' Clearly, I was mistaken.

Now, as per usual, I have received the nice and nagging requests to update my blog. I had plans to do it weeks ago, but all of a sudden things because really, really busy. Mostly because I was offered and accept a job to teach in Nunavut in the space of a week. Ok, if you actually consider the time it took for me to be interviewed for the job and then offered the job...it's only one day. And then if you also include the time between when I was offered the job and when I had to submit an online order for all of the food I want for next year, it's also one day. So basically, I was interviewed for the Nunavut job, offered the job, and then told to order my food for the rest of my life in the space of three days.

On top of that, I have been back and forth to Toronto ad nauseum and am now ready for a break, but it doesn't look like those trips will be letting up immediately. But I can't complain, I love Toronto in the summer. Actually, I like Toronto at most times of year.

So, now that I've accepted this job in Nunavut, I have to set about 'gearing up' for the arctic. That means I have to invest in a heavy-duty parka (Canada Goose, only, they tell me), a pair of 'Baffin Boots' not to mention long underwear, mitts, snowpants, toques, and other winter paraphernalia. I know, you're dying for pictures of me in a down parka. Don't worry, we'll get there. Anticipation will make it that much sweeter. Also, you will want to see the pictures of me making out with polar bears. I may have to photoshop those, but I'm not above that.

Now, I'm sure you're thinking "Nunavut? The Arctic? Is she crazy?" The answer may actually be 'yes,' however, it seemed like the best and most convenient option at the time. Usually amazing opportunities seem to fall into my lap (is it wrong to say that? Should I knock on a log now or something?) but they do. The way the Nunavut opportunity worked out, it seemed to be fate. Not only am I going to have a great opportunity teaching in a unique setting (which I always love), saving a good chunk of chage, but I will also be living and teaching with a good friend of mine, Karen who I met while at Dalhousie.

Let me introduce you to Karen:

Karen Versluys is funny. Not just funny looking. Karen grew up in Port Perry, but I don't hold that against her. It wasn't her choice. Karen used to work on the GM line, where she encouraged other workers to join in her rousing performances of Disney musical numbers. Karen paid her way through her Master's by slinging brewskies, most conveniently at the infamous Grad House Club. I totally got Karen that job, so she owes me. Our boss told me that Karen was great, but 'not at all what he expected.' I'm not sure what that means. I have to live with her now. I'm a little afraid, but I know that if the going gets tough, we can always break out into a chorus of "Part of Your World," complete with choreographed actions. Karen completed her BA at Queen's, which I also don't hold against her. Much. After her MA at Dalhousie, Karen headed back to Kingston to take her B.Ed. I know exactly what she went through. I also needed to move many provinces away after my B.Ed at Queen's. Karen did her alternative practical in Tanzania and has the tan to prove it. I helped Karen acquire the same lucrative travel grant I did when I was in teacher's college. Like I said, she owes me. Karen got me this job in Nunavut. I think we're even. But, if anything goes wrong, you now know who to blame.


As for me....well, you should know all about me, but just in case you've forgotten:

Emily Harrison never stays in one place for very long. Some people have said she likes extremes, and she doesn't think this is a bad thing. Emily spent 4 years learning how to hug trees and thinking so abstractly she stopped making sense to people outside of the Cultural Studies program at Trent University. Emily completed her B.Ed at Queen's. She lived on Emily Street while she was there. It was the one redeeming quality of her time in Kingston. Well, that and she could see the lake from her house. After her B.Ed, Emily thought it was wise to try her hand at an MA in Halifax. She is now thinking she should have thought that through more thoroughly. After a year of classes and coursework, Emily was on the move again, teaching for a year in Sierra Leone. After her return, she pretended to write her thesis while living in an attic in Peterborough. In order to avoid turning into a cat lady, Emily decided to apply for a teaching position in Nunavut and is now going to replace cats with polar bears. Or seal pups. She's still undecided.

"head out on the highway, looking for adventure?"

You know, or whatever comes my way. And, incidentally, I can now drive on the highway whenever I want, since I now have a full 'G' license. At 26. I can do anything.

So here's a run-down on what's been going on and some of the decisions I've been making lately.

First of all, I finally applied to that internship with CAUSE Canada that I've been talking about for...well...years. This year the internship would have been working with women and promoting adult women's literacy. Unfortunately, I'm over-qualified. Ok, maybe not over-qualified, but the fact that I have had paid, overseas experience 'in my field' (as if anyone really knows what 'my field' is...puh-lease...I barely know what my own field is), but the fact that I have been paid to teach overseas disqualifies me. Tough love. So basically, now I'm not qualified enough to teach at other international schools, but I'm too qualified to be able to do an internship. And clearly, we all know I'm much too broke to volunteer. So woop-de-doo. Yeah. I said 'woop-de-doo.' So, it looks like the CAUSE internship door has been closed. Perhaps I can find another internship, but I fear the criteria would be similar - this was also a CIDA internship, so no, I can't really go that route. But, at least I have a very clear door shut. In my face. *sigh* (I bet it was a red door. I should have painted it black years ago, Mick).

I did also fill out a general application to CAUSE - maybe they will be able to find me a different position within their organization. But I'm not holding my breath. Because I'm partial to oxygen.

I've been offered a job (a bit undefined at the moment) at the American Academy in Casablanca, Morocco. I believe the position would be to teach music (although some art and drama would be involved) and I could take a grade 4/5 classroom teacher position if I wanted. While at first this might sound exciting, I'm resistant because of a few details. One, I believe the contract is 2-years. I don't want 2 years at this point. Two, the school is not yet accredited with the USA, although they may get accreditation in the spring. An unaccredited school doesn't look as good. Even AISF was accredited. And three, am I that into North Africa? Not really, although it would give me a broader perspective on Africa as a continent as my father suggested. But is it really where I want to be? And is it really doing what I want to do? I'm not sure that the answer is a resounding 'yes' to either of those questions.

I've decided not to re-audition for the Peterborough Singers for next year's season. This year was a good experience and I enjoyed getting back into singing in a choir and meeting some new people, but I don't think the Singers are quite the right fit for me. I don't enjoy the huge, religiously-based choral works we tend to do (although I have nothing against either religion or choral works, in fact I times I quite like both) but together and all the time they just don't provide enough variety for me. Plus, I've just started leading music at St. John's so I'd like to pour myself into that more - it's what I prefer to do. And I'm good at it.

I can't remember if I've mentioned a few of the other options I have on the go, but they look like the ones that might pan out more realistically over the next 6mos-to-a-year. Right now what I'm hoping for is to get the job I applied for that would have me working with the "Amigos" program in KPRDSB schools as a facilitator. I think it would be a good fit considering some of my background in special needs work - and also I'd be in and out of schools in the board and making some connections. Plus, being in Peterborough would allow me to FINALLY finish my thesis. (oh God, oh God...let's not talk about it), and also be closer to my family and some of my friends. Also, if I ever need to take a job in Toronto or Ottawa, I'm in a good position to move to either of those places eventually.

I also applied to be 'Assistant Head of House' at Lakefield College School - but I'm not sure what's going to happen there, and I'm not convinced I want to live out there either...although 'private apartment' does sounds nice...

I figure, if it all goes to hell-in-a-handbasket I'm going to take a job in Asia for 6 months and earn some money. That is my last-resort plan.

Ugh. So just a lot of things to think about right now.

What do you think?

...finding that place...

I think I'm getting there.

I have a sort of bubbling in my stomach and a fluttering in my heart, an excitement if you will. I can see connections and parallels and draw conclusions. I can make charts and more charts, analyse results, and write 1000 words in one breath (ok, fine. 2 breaths. And it's really on 869 words, but who's counting...you know, other than me?).

I'm up early today and within a couple of hours of waking I've managed to have my coffee, check my email, and finish writing the final report for my ethics review committee. I don't have any idea if it's actually what they want, but it's what I've written and it's within the length limit, and it looks specifically at 3 questions central to my research so it can't be that far off-base, can it?

Plus, it made me feel giddy.

Something that also made me feel giddy: searching for 2 book titles on Topcat and seeing "reserved for someone" in their 'status' section. Uh huh. That 'someone' is me. It's always good to be a somebody.

And then, another thing that's exciting, is when searching on Amazon.com for "Conflict and Collusion" (a book title, fascinating) finding that the hardcover copy is on sale for less than 50 bucks, and then, noticing at the bottom of the page where Amazon suggests 5 books you might also be interested in, that you actually already own 3 of them.

Yes, I'm just that elitist. And yes, that makes me excited.

Ok, really, what it comes down to is an affirmation of sorts (albeit through Amazon, so a teaspoon of salt is necessary here, rather than just a grain), an affirmation that I am on the right track at the moment, and that all my thoughts and requests for reading material are not for naught (ooooh, tricky homophone there, dang!).

So while I may be discouraged about the fact that 70% of junior teachers are being 'surplused' in Ontario, there is a hiring freeze in most Boards of Education, and my job prospects have been slim-to-none, I may be actually getting somewhere on my thesis which could do a lot for my self-esteem.

A good write-on always lifts my spirits!

...times, they are a changin'...

Well then.

As most of you would have known, I was planned and ready to move out to Halifax at the beginning of May for who knows how long. All that changed in a blink of an eye, two days before Warren was supposed to move out there to find a job. He was offered a full-time position working with his brother's company (it's rather a long story, but don't worry it's not a conspiracy to keep Warren in Ontario), which means he'll also be getting a full-time pay cheque. Excellent news, really. After the initial shock (because we all know how much I love plans changing at the last minute), I am able to see the silver lining in staying in Peterborough. While I am disappointed not to be 'summering' in Halifax (it's just so beautiful there!) I am glad to be in Ontario this summer since, as per usual, I have no less than 3 weddings to attend, plus also a baby birth first! If I were living in Halifax I would most assuredly miss all but perhaps one of those events. Also, I do have a job here and now so does Warren so it would allow both of us to save some money. Additionally, moving around has its perks, but also its drawbacks when trying to get a 'real' job (I keep trying to explain to people that I've already had a 'real' job for year, but they keep not believing me. Apparently teaching in Africa is not as real as teaching in Canada. Hurumph. How Euro-centric. That is, if we lived in Europe....). At any rate, the long and the short of it is that I'm staying put for a little while longer.

Talking about Africa, it seems as though the continent doesn't want anything to do with me presently since all of my attempts to win gainful employment (or even not so gainful employment, I'm not so picky) have failed. I have one last hope left that I can apply for in April/May, so fingers crossed for that. Otherwise, I really have no idea what's next. While God is closing doors he hasn't yet started opening windows. Take that Julie Andrews. I guess this heavy snow fall and late spring is taking its tolls on more than just water levels.

Over Easter I had the pleasure of having Amy and Greg join me and some others for a Good Friday service and dinner chez moi. It was a well themed meal, complete with Lamb of God roast and Passion of the Christ passion fruit martinis. After the meal we played a hybrid version of Monopoly and Cranium, where it took me about 2 hours to get around the playing board once. As if Monopoly needed to be made any more drawn out.

Warren, Jen and Amy playing our extended-version. I think it's possible it could have played out for a week.

Amy and Greg. Cute little couple. You just want to squish their cheeks, dammnit!

If that's an update, I've done it.

Stay tuned for more news about whether or not I get to occupy the attic through the summer...if so, I smell a backyard party in the works!

...never a dull moment in the 'big smoke'...

Recently, I haven't blogged much, and when I have, it has been about the seemingly sad, and slightly stationary state of affairs in Peterborough.

Not so in Toronto, my friends. Not so. They don't call it 'The Big City' for nothing.

I had a dentist appointment in Toronto (please, don't even get me started about the state of medical treatment in Peterborough) on Friday and caught the bus down in the morning. As we were driving along the 401, there was a car completely engulfed in flames on the other side of the road. When I say engulfed, I really mean it. I was in a permanent state of 'flinch' as the bus lumbered by the flaming inferno as I completely expected the car to explode as we passed. Upon further retrospection, I've realised I did absolutely nothing about the flaming car, save talk about how unbelievable it was with some fellow passengers. Picking up my cellphone and calling '911' didn't even occur to me. Not only is this a testament to the 'mob' theory or whatever it is called (you know the one...they say that the bigger the city, the more people around, the less likely an individual is to respond to a call for help or a crisis because they believe that there is someone else who will do it?), but it is also a further illustration of my lack of crisis-response skills. Please see this previous blog, also involving fire, but much more funny:

http://emilyinsalone.blogspot.com/2007/02/just-another-night.html

This is not the actual flaming car I saw. What, you think I had the wherewithall to use my camera?

After the flaming car, the dentist appointment was rather anticlimactic, although, the dental hygienist did say that my teeth and gums were in excellent condition (good news, since I haven't been to the dentist in 4 years!) The excitement picked up again in the evening when my parents and I went out for dinner. My usual favourite sushi restaurant was crammed to capacity, so we tried a new place, just for kicks. Apart from the fact that I was never actually given a menu, and they completely forgot about my father's meal, the food was still tasty. Although, I ordered salmon maki, and then was served something the waitress called 'tuna maki' and which looked like tuna maki...but then when I asked her about it, she said she just made a mistake when she served me. No, she didn't really get much of a tip.

Restaurant and food mix-ups aside, OUTside the restaurant there was a sword and fire eater performing for our amusement. I have been out for dinner a lot in Peterborough. I have never seen a fire or sword eater! One time I saw an 'hot dog eater' but that is not really in the same vein. Plus, he had mustard on his coat and hadn't even had the decency to enhance his act by dressing in costume. I mean, anyone can walk and eat a hot dog at the same time. Pfft.

On the walk home I ran into my old piano teacher! I haven't seen her since I stopped taking piano lessons around grade 11 or 12 (I think I'd reached grade 8 piano by then...minus the official exams). It was so good to see Jennifer! She look just the same as I remembered her, even though she is at least a decade older. That must be one of the additional bonuses to not having children of your own. We talked for ages about what we, and all the other students she had taught who were also my friends, were up to. This conversation was made much easier through the advent of Facebook, I might add. Then, out of the blue, the parents of one of the girls we had been discussing passed by, and all the catching up and story telling had to happen all over again. Thank goodness Toronto is protected by that 'urban heat island' effect (this I learned about when I taught grade 8 geography last year. At least someone learned something), or our half-hour chit-chat on Bloor Street could have left me with hypothermia. Instead, it left me with Jennifer's new business card and a promise to keep in touch.

I actually took this picture of my keyboard keys when I was in Sierra Leone. Then I stretched it out. Now it looks like this.

On Saturday, I had to make an adventurous trip out to Aurora where I was meeting Warren and his family for his father's surprise birthday party. I packed my bags, 3 in all, and dressed in my finest 'meet the family' threads, I managed to traverse the dark tunnels of the TTC from Spadina Station to Finch without calamity. I even successfully purchased and boarded the VIVA bus that would take me on a 45 minute drive from Finch station to Aurora, not a speck on me, or my a-little-too-long dress pants. In fact, even when I disembarked from the bus, and wandered the streets of Aurora for 20 mins. while I waited for Warren to meet me, I managed to stay clean and dry. I was with Warren for less than 5 mins. (FIVE MINUTES!) when this all went to hell in a hand-basket.

I followed Warren through a 'short-cut' (folly on my end, since I have a more naturally occurring sense of direction) that led us out onto the right street, but through a snowbank and then across what I think were quite possibly, the five Great Lakes. I was a little irritated to be walking in snow and greyish slush up to my ankles, and was bending down to tuck my dress pants into my boots when, lo and behold, a van sped by me, splattering slushy water all over me, and drenching my black coat and hair. I stood, bent over, my leather purse straps well placed in my mouth for biting, as the rage and frustration washed over me (not unlike the wave of water that just soaked me). After a minute, I was able to stand upright, but I'm afraid that's when the obscenities began. Luckily I had a chance to wipe off my coat (with my pyjamas) and change my shoes (but not my socks because I didn't have any other black ones) before meeting nearly all of Warren's extended family...oh, and posing for professional family portraits.

This is not one of the portraits. I like to call this photo 'naturally photogenic couple.' Yes, I'm being sarcastic.

The surprise party for Warren's dad was very fun; the people were friendly, the food was delicious, and I enjoyed myself. I was happy to get home to my little attic though...which has now been described as 'hippy-ish.'

You bet. Always.

Peace.

...old playgrounds, new people...

Today was one of those days where things just seem a little bit off.

It might have been the fact that I participated in some productive work towards my thesis that threw me off, as that has been quite the anomaly around these parts recently. I did everything I was taught, even starting the day out right with a balanced breakfast of low-fat, high-protein options (just overlook the croissant), and I was even out the door by 9am. I walked to the public library, disappointed to find out it doesn't open until 10am, but decided to head to the Trent Library since I had a small, Green Book to photocopy and return. I had to return the book today, because tomorrow I have a training course from 10am-3pm...or so I thought.

It's always strange returning to the Trent Campus firstly, because I've been away from it for so long, and secondly because well, I'm not actually a student there anymore. Also, who knew the library and campus were so quiet at 9:30am on a weekday? I certainly didn't when I was a student. Waiting for the Trent Express bus inside the double sliding doors of Champlain College, I remembered how loyal and paternalistic one can feel towards a university; I remembered I did. Passing Traill College, I marveled at how so much at the university could change, yet Wallis Hall still has those ugly blue curtains on the windows that I'm fairly certain adorned the windows of the first college residents at the end of the 1960s. On second thought, those blue curtains probably made their debut in the 1980s. I'd imagine the curtains of the 60s and 70s were much more retro and geometric.



Yeah. Just like that.

The student population at Trent has doubled since I first attended in 2000. But, 8 years later, the blue curtains remain. It's good to see that some things are a priority. Or an oversight. Whatever.

So I left library 'A' and moved to library 'B,' a more central choice, complete with homey 'cafe' serving homemade sandwiches and coffee. I still have my Peterborough Public Library card. I'm a trooper. I bought my first cup of 'tea. Earl Grey. Hot.' from the homey cafe and settled into my alcove for the afternoon. I pulled out my agenda, just to take a look at my week ahead and see if there was anything I needed to add in...and realised I was supposed to be at the "Person-Centred Support" training session today, not tomorrow. Aww, crap.

I called my program manager to admit my mistake, but she was unavailable and I left a message on her machine. I was worried that I'd be viewed as irresponsible and that perhaps this particular training session was important. My program manager hasn't called me back yet...so it couldn't have been that imperative. I did receive a call from our team leader, and I thought it may have been concerning my absence...not so. He just wanted to give me another shift. I wrote the new shift down in my agenda, but hey, no promises I'll actually make it in that day.

This is only the first half of my day.

The second half, the public library portion, is beyond amusing. As some of you will know, I talk to myself a bit, but generally, I'll only talk to myself if I'm standing in front of a mirror. It's a family trait. I blame genetics. Ok, well, me talking to myself doesn't even compare to the weird behaviour I encountered at the library.

Things were fairly normal for the first hour or so. Occasionally I'd make the loud huffing sighing noise I make while reading something 'academic', interspersed with an odd 'huh' if I find something particularly interesting. After one of my grunts, the girl sitting across from me looked up and said 'finally found something interesting, eh?" to which I intelligently replied "uh, yeah. Something like that." And then back to my article on Sierra Leone's lumpenproletariat revolution. I didn't even make the word up. I swear. Following that comment, the flood gates of conversation were opened, and all the crazies started talking. I have no idea about half of what one guy was talking about, but he definitely went on and on about cell phones for a good 10 mins after the girl across from me had a conversation with her mother on speaker phone, since she couldn't actually figure out how to work her cell phone. About another hour later, the girl across from me asked me what I was working on...I mumbled through something about civil wars, Sierra Leone and a thesis. She asked me if it was for college or university. "Uh, for university. For my Master's." She raised her eyebrows.

"Want to read a love letter to my former boss?"

I'm not even kidding, she said that out loud. And then she gave me two sheets of green paper full of (very nice) handwriting to read through. The love letter wasn't that bad, as a matter of fact. She did assure me when she handed it over that it was 'totally fine. No sex, or anything." Phew. I was worried. Actually, I suppose it wasn't bad as far as love letters to former bosses go. She was also applying to a new job (which is part of what the phone conversation to her mother was about) and had an interview later that week. I asked her if this former boss was one of her references. She said yes. I suggested it might be better to hand the letter to him after she got the reference.

She gave me a weird look for working on my Master's thesis. She was writing a love letter to her boss. Which one of us is stranger?

Alright, so that was really the height of the weirdness. The strange guy a few tables over started talking again after love letter girl left, and after he left, another strange man replaced him. This one struck up conversation asking me if I was a student but didn't give me a strange look for saying I was working on my Master's. He gave me a strange look for saying I attend Dalhousie University. Well, we can't have it all, can we? He then told me he was just trying to get his grade 12 and then was planning on returning to B.C to attend Simon Fraser University. Here are some of the other things I learned about this man:

• His father is a law professor at the University of Victoria
• His parents are from England - in fact he was born in England. People from England like to live in B.C because the climate is similar. It rains a lot.
• He doesn't find Physics very difficult
• He wants to be an Engineering Physicist.
• Housing in B.C is really expensive. He owns a condo there that's he's renting now. Thank goodness he bought before the housing market skyrocketed. You can't get a house for under $500K now.
• His girlfriend in B.C was cheating on him, so his Aunt suggested he move out to Ontario and finish his GED. No, she doesn't live in Peterborough, she lives in Welland.
• He might go to Queen's, actually. He's just not sure. They have a good physics program.
• Peterborough doesn't have an adult education program. He has to drive to Oshawa for his classes.
• He thinks I should move out west to Alberta because they are just 'crying' for teachers there.
  

At this point, it was 3pm, and I gave up. I came home and decided to write it all down. Now it's 4:30pm and I think I need a nap.

Living other people's lives is exhausting. But hey! Look at how much I can learn about other people without saying more than a few sentences. And I remembered it all.

With these skills, I should be a spy.

...life in Canada...

Is decidedly boring...

... thus my absence from regular blogging. There really isn't anything exciting going on...not compared to the lives I've lived elsewhere, that is. I suppose I should really change gears and start filling this blog with amusing anecdotes (like for instance, once, when I was younger and less astute, I was filling out a comment/feedback card evaluating the morning service and the leadership at my church in Toronto, and I said that sermons should include more personal 'antidotes.' I'm not really sure what I meant there...was I hoping that the minister would find a remedy for putting me to sleep in the mornings? Some sort of biblical booster I could just shoot in the arm?) At any rate...I suppose I should start filling this blog with amusing anecdotes (rather than antidotes, which are something completely different) but I find myself at a loss.

Sometimes, there is the occasional amusing story from work - I now work with adults with developmental disabilities, who live together in community houses with 6 or so individuals in each home. My house is fairly high-needs, most of our residents are non-verbal. One woman has a somewhat limited vocabulary which includes such gems as 'poop,' 'bum,' 'pee,' and 'tea.' (honestly, does the world really need words beyond those? Plus, the last two rhyme. Bonus.) Another individual doesn't speak at all, but rather growls or drools intermittently at you. I have nicknamed him "Grumpelstiltskin," a reference to the fairytale story of "Rumpelstiltskin," a grouchy elf of sorts with a penchant for stomping his foot, once so hard it went through the floorboards. The man I work with is like this. If he's frustrated, he stamps. If he's angry, he stamps. If he's bored, he stamps. If he's excited, he stamps. Well...you get the picture. Sometimes, when he's not stamping, he kicks. The other day I received a good shot to the knee-cap that could have toppled me (if not for my cat-like balance).

Or, I could tell you about the fact that today I came across a word I didn't know in a book I was reading ("Travels in the White Man's Grave: Stories from West and Central Africa," a book given to me for Christmas by my friend, Jen). The word was "liana," and I could have guessed at its meaning based on context (gaining meaning from context - a skill I taught my students in middle school English lit class last year), but I wanted to be sure of what it meant. Apparently, it's a

"woody climber that starts at ground level, and uses trees to climb up to the canopy where it spreads from tree to tree to get as much light as possible. Lianas are especially characteristic of tropical moist deciduous forests and rainforests."

See. Like I said, things here in Canada just aren't as fascinating. Show me a woody climber, will you?

And no, I don't mean the kind found in the gravely playgrounds of primary schools. Besides, those have all been torn down years ago for not fulfilling the more stringent safety codes. Also, you could set them on fire.