Filed under whining

the studenty life

Today I gathered texts for assignments all day. Woo. Our management class has its first assignment due in a couple of weeks, and that requires a whole hell of a lot of books on management and economics and libraries to be annotated for a bibliography. Don’t you wish you were in library school?

Doing this kind of thing is much easier than I imagine it used to be when you couldn’t lie in bed with your laptop all day, reserving books from all over the area to be delivered to places conducive to being picked up, or just getting the documents loaded onto your computer. I did go out to the VPL to grab a stack of books. Just for the thrill of going to the library and hurting my shoulder by overloading my bag.

And I did laundry and bought groceries. Wee. Exciting. Aren’t you glad I’m writing about this?

So many of my classmates seem so much more busy than me. All with their multiple jobs and things. I’ve just got my classes and the assignments, which I might as well do now since maybe I’ll be getting a job at some point to cut into my schoolwork time. This term I don’t have any pressing reason to get my school stuff done early, but I’ve kind of gotten the habit started so it seems better to be working on that stuff than not. It’s basically procrastination from writing or thinking about the future to be working on homework.

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surrounded by boxes

My first week back at school is done. I still have to have my first Management class on Monday night, and a bunch of meetings that’ll determine how my term’ll go, but it’s been pretty okay.

I got my rental bond refund from the Sydney apartment today so that was nice. There’d been a lot of back and forth with our landlord’s rental agent that had been giving me worries. I know that his parasitic trying to worm an extra hundred dollars out of me while telling me he’d my friend is just his job, but man, does that kind of stuff get me angry. I needed him to sign a form so I could get the bond money back, but he said he couldn’t do it so he’d get the landlord to do it that afternoon and fax it in. A week later I had to call him again to find out why it hadn’t been done and then there were stories of papers getting lost and blah blah blah. I really didn’t want to get mad about the money, but it’s a big enough sum to cover two months of my Vancouver rent.

I hate getting mad about things like that. I mean, I knew I was in the right, and the agent wasn’t doing his job well (or was trying to pull something). But just being right doesn’t mean much at all. I used to be better at dealing with that kind of thing. I think. The condo broke me, made me so unhappy and paranoid when it comes to those kinds of matters. I can still feel it here, like something’s going to happen and I’m going to have to move all my stuff out of this apartment (which I quite like).

All of that to explain why my room still looks like I’m living out of a suitcase. It’s hard to know how much unpacking and settling to do here. I might be staying a long time, but maybe I won’t. In Sydney I lived out of two carryon bags for eight months (the amount of time I have left in this degree), so all the crap strewn about already seems wasteful, and that’s with only one bookcase taken out of storage. But the more you settle in the crappier the moving on later is.

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when you’re out of fuel, i’m still afloat, puking and shivering

Sunday I learned that I like songs about surfing much more than the actual act. There’s something about swallowing all that seawater and relying on my spindly arms for propulsion and being so terribly cold that isn’t really conveyed in the melodies of the Beach Boys.

The members of our house got a deal on surfing lessons and so we took them. At the time Holly said “Really?” when I said I’d try too. And yes, surfing probably was never going to really be for me, but I’m here in Australia and it seemed like something I should do when I’m here. I mean, I haven’t had the chance to manhandle koalas or introduce an invasive species or anything. But surfing I could at least try. Maybe I would really like it.

I didn’t.

It might have been better if I’d had a wetsuit that actually fit me. Supposedly they’re supposed to let a little water in but it gets stuck in there and your body warms it up and you’re all insulated. When you’re skinny and wearing a rented wetsuit that’s flopping around and isn’t close to being tight, the water just flows through and it’s like you’re just splashing around in the cold cold ocean. Which I don’t really do for enjoyment.

I ended up bailing out after being flung around by the sea enough to know that the fleeting moment of being pushed along by the sea trying to touch the moon wasn’t worth the pain and pukiness.

The instructors were good about coming to check on me sitting on the beach and shivering, to make sure I was all right. But the one guy said I would have really enjoyed myself if I’d gone back in. I know myself well enough to be able to call him on that lie, but he was just a twenty-year-old trying to talk about the stuff he loved to do, so I just told him not to worry. I did not explain how little my body and I have in common, and how little trust there is between us, and how that trust was easily shattered and wasn’t going to be repaired by heading out into the ocean again to get even colder.

So yes, I have tried surfing. I don’t live everything completely secondhand. Which was kind of the point of that endeavour.

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brain-weight

I am always completely amazed at how much better I feel when I have written. Today I finished off the first draft of a cataloguing paper (about the challenges of cataloguing webcomics) and while it’s nothing crazy impressive, I learned some shit and have some stuff written about what I learned. And my mood? So much better than it was yesterday, or all last week when I hadn’t written anything on this and was just dreading it.

A while back I was trying to figure out why I was so much less motivated this term with a month left than last term. And the answer was completely to do with the whole leaving for China the day after classes were over. I needed to get everything out of the way so I did. This term there’s cool stuff happening after classes are done (going to Vermont and then to Australia), but nothing I need to push myself right now for. And no Holly waiting for me right on the other side. (She’ll be coming to Oz in July.)

But today I feel good. I wrote a post for Closed Stacks (another library blog I’m contributing to) and a book review. I’ve got business cards in the mail. Tonight I’m going to do some real writing. Oh, and Reyn’s a dad (I saw it on his sister’s Facebook), so congratulations.

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out in the country

On Wednesday Holly and I got up far too early to go out to a school in the nearby town of Lijia for an extremely well-documented bout of “helping the poor children” (ugh). This wasn’t our idea.

There’s a group of outdoorsy type people who started this organization “Twinkling Stars” to raise some money and do some work for kids after the Sichuan earthquake of 2008. They went to the village they were helping and did some good work I guess. Wednesday was their second trip, and first that wasn’t disaster provoked. They’re customers at the bakery and asked Holly to join them.

The idea was that they went to this poor school, brought a bunch of clothes and stuff to give them and then shared their skills. There were maybe fifteen to twenty volunteers. A lot of them were photographers and some of them were taking good pictures of the kids in a class and then would give prints to their parents. There was some sort of gongfu training I think? Holly was brought along to teach English classes to grade four students.

Of course, this being China, any work could only be done after a multi-hour ceremony outside in the cold with speeches and songs and seven year old girls dancing wearing nothing but gauze. It was maybe 6 degrees out. I wept for them.

Twinkling Stars and the school both knew how to stage these things. We got off the bus that brought us a hundred metres away and walked up to the school with the bags of clothes, all the volunteers wearing orange or yellow jackets. Maybe twenty metres from the school gate the road was lined with kids waving tinsel covered hula-hoops and drumming and chanting “Warm Welcome!” A couple of handfuls of cops kept an eye on things.

As the Twinkling Stars headed up to their seats of honour I peeled off of the group. Because Holly is great, she explained away my disappearance nicely. So through the speeches and performances I didn’t have to sit in the cold, but wandered around the fringes with the parents and other villagers. I was accosted by a few people asking me questions I couldn’t answer (my 中文 classes helped very little for this trip) and got mobbed for a photo once.

When Holly got into the classroom she did a lesson on Christmas vocabulary and played games with the kids. I helped with classes two and three after lunch, as I’m a much better classroom assistant than lead teacher. She’s much better at dealing with a classroom than I am.

For lunch we ate from the cafeteria and then had a session of talking about what we’d experienced that morning. It felt like everyone came up and shared sort of prepackaged moments of the touching things they’d learned (of course, I wasn’t actually paying attention and don’t know the language so I’m probably way off). My favourite part of that was when the girl who (I’m told) is a really cool journalist expressed that she’d had some difficulties with her class. People then appeared (to me, not knowing the language) to be berating her and giving her “encouragement” on how to not suck so much. (Again, just my impression.) She looked like she was going to cry. I just appreciated the idea that someone telling the truth about her experience got jumped on like meat in a tiger pit for not having a warm fuzzy moment.

In the gaps between lunch and classes and between classes and waiting for our bus to leave, there were piles of kids wanting autographs from all these volunteers (not just Holly and me). It was ridiculous and stupid. For a while we signed some things, Holly and I sending messages to each other on the pages we signed for each kid, but it was endless. And I hated the dynamic of that so much. This faux-rock star thing. Just like the banners and the honourific speeches (which you might remember I dealt with on a trip to the country back in the day). The supplication and demanding something that wouldn’t actually be at all useful for them. “There’s no reason for this!” I wanted to grab kids and yell.

Holly and I agreed to stop signing stuff but still had mobs. Holly could laugh it off when one boy tried to get an autograph out of her by saying “We’re so poor though!” but I didn’t even have the language to tell them what the problem was. I hated the not signing things too. Just all over I detest that power dynamic.

On the ride back to Nanchong Holly and I read chapters of Matilda to each other. That doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but it was my favourite part of the day.

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i guess it’s saturday today?

I think I left the house yesterday. Yes I did. I bought some groceries. And the day before, I’d been to school and off visiting libraries for homework purposes and then to Kerry’s for board- and party- gaming. We played Settlers and the endgame got bogged down as it sometimes does. I skipped out on Dominion because I was recuperating from Settlers, where I’d made the classic mistake of jumping to a lead too soon and not being able to close it out before getting ganged upon. Selah. I’d been pretty lucky in my early resources.

The rest of the weekend’s been homework. I’m almost done the actual Subject Headings part of the last assignment for one of my classes (leaving the essay about the experience still to go). I’m giving a selection of my comics collection subject headings to describe what they’re about. I’m not breaking down the series like DMZ or Transmetropolitan into specific volumes and giving them each their own headings. It still got kind of out of hand (I have a lot of fun making lead-in terms). So far I’ve done it all in a text document without any layout type stuff so I don’t have a clue how big it would be on paper and that’s probably for the best.

I woke up to snow, which made it a good day to stay inside and work. It’s fine when the snow is on the mountains and I can see it up there when the clouds are high enough, but I’m not a big fan of it being here in my part of town. I came to Vancouver for rain and being able to bike to school all winter without ice spikes on my tires. Three days before I bike again.

One of the things I’m looking forward to about China (beyond just being with Holly and eating baked goods and watching movies Holly needs to see and not having assignments that need doing and being a somewhat useful dishwasher for the woman I love) is getting some writing work done. I’ve been terrible about it this semester. I know that so much of it has to be just sitting down and making the time to do it. Holly’ll be working when I’m there, so I’ll be filling my time with working too. I did this when I went to visit Nanjing in 2008, all spending my mornings writing while Holly was working. I got a lot done. Hopefully I can repeat myself, at least effort-wise.

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what money can buy

This morning I took my sniffly head down to the Chinese Consulate’s visa office. Being in Vancouver now, I was kind of happy to be able to have such a hassle free alternative to my usual Xpressposting across the country and paying an agent to deal with it and all that. The actual office is a busride away! What could be simpler?

The room was stuffed to the gills with people. There were at least four different lines, none of which were labelled. I stood in a long one for ten minutes before noticing people with forms that looked like more mine in a much shorter line, so I bailed for it. Then after a few minutes I noticed everyone in my new line had a ticket indicating what number they were. “Where did you get that?” I asked the guy behind me and he waved behind both of us at a lineup for talking to what I’d thought was a security guard. So I left for that line and then thought about it a bit.

This new line to get a number for the other line was long. Then I’d be waiting at least 50 numbers to drop off my form. This was going to take hours. I did a quick evaluation of what my time is worth and decided to leave.

There was a China Travel Services place down the block. It had the same fonts they do in the PRC, so I felt very at home. I went in and found out their fee was $25 to handle that room for me and call me when my visa was ready. So that’s what I did, short-circuiting the story of how I spent my Friday trapped in bureaucracy hell. I’d say it was a good value.

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hours of consciousness haven’t killed me yet

Tonight, after getting up at 6 this morning, having 6 hours of class and a meeting and biking a pile of kilometres, I’ve given up on schoolwork and am listening to baseball instead. Tuesdays are kind of tiring.

It was kind of frustrating to my schedule that in class today we were given an assignment due next Tuesday that won’t be graded but needs to be done, and requires printed stuff. Frustrating because I’d worked ahead to have everything ready to go for the other stuff due next week, since I’ll be in Winnipeg on the weekend. But as it stands now, I’ll have to do some work on Sunday. And come to school on Monday to print it out. Bah.

And you may remember how I was doing some volunteer work (cutting and pasting html code). The people I was doing that for decided to make up for their lack of organization that meant I couldn’t upload my files, they’d give me a new batch of files to do that would be due in four days. Which is bullshit, as I did the stuff way in advance and it took a long time. As the problems were not my fault and I’m not getting paid for my time there, I’m not going to worry about it.

So those are my gripes. They aren’t overwhelming. Baseball (and the hope I might see Halladay and Lincecum meet in the playoffs) is good. And soon I’ll be chatting with Holly, so my (very long) day will be made more than good indeed.

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there are three kinds of people

Some days you have very pleasant people come into the library. Like today, when a young woman wanted to catch up on some classics. We had a good chat and I got to recommend Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves, which I never get to do. She was interested in the idea of paradox being at the centre of a novel, and I had difficulties deciphering what she meant by that. So it was intellectually stimulating and fun all around. The fact that I completely took over the referencing from my coworker who was slower on the draw only dampened my enjoyment a little bit.

And some days you have very unpleasant people come into the library. Like today, when a man was using the computers with grunts and groans of distress before finally coming to the Info Desk to ask my coworker what was wrong with his computer. Now, I was working with a couple of people tonight. One of them is new(ish) and we’re trying to force him into handling more things on his own. I could tell from the patron’s tone of voice that expecting the patron to be patient was not feasible, so I leapt into the breach.

“I’m trying to open an Excel file. The simplest kind of file in the world and this stupid computer won’t let me. This always happens! These computers are horrible! I’ve been on the phone with the guys down town and got them to change things five times, but whenever I come here or to [a nearby branch] they’re all pieces of crap!”

While the patron is loudly complaining about his lot in life being solely to have his will to live tested by the computers of our branch, I test the file. There is an error message coming up when we try to open the file, so I save it to a temporary directory and attempt to open it a different way, explaining as I go. He’s not really listening but it works and I have his file up on the screen. “Is this the right file?” I ask.

“Yes it is, but why couldn’t it open up like that the first time?”

“I’m not sure, sometimes we have prob-”

“It’s all fine for you to come in and do your secret little ways, but I have a bad back and don’t have time for this! When I click on it it should just open up, shouldn’t it?”

“Well, in a perfect wor-”

“Shouldn’t it?”

“Ideall-”

“Yes or no?” He’s kind of getting in my face at this point.

“Sure.”

“That’s what I keep on telling them downtown! Why haven’t they upgraded these computers?!”

“I really don’t know. I’m sorry. But your file is there now.”

“But it’s too big! I need to zoom out or something.”

“There are options to change the view if you’d like…” and he’s muscled me away.

I head back to the desk and he gives me a sullen “Thanks.” When he was done with the computer he left and did apologize for getting so angry, so that was all right.

And the rest of the evening was dominated by the third kind of people: the silent ones, who are very easy to deal with.

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workshoppery

Today was part two of this comics making workshop I attended at the library. It was one of those things that made me wish I could draw and don’t have to rely on finding a collaborator to turn my comics ideas into something. That’s why I’ve been shifting away from my comics I suppose. Writing without pictures doesn’t require me to find a person to help me. I can hack away all by myself without bothering anyone. But these two sessions were pretty good. I think I got more out of last week’s than this week’s but whatever. It does feel good to have been in a room with people who care about the same sorts of things I do. I didn’t take full advantage of it because I didn’t want to get in the way of the younger people who the session was really for.</excuse>

Unrelated, I have a place to live in Vancouver! Thank you, Mennonite connections.

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