Tag Archives: grandma

i have a new job (on vancouver island)

Today I finish up my last bit of work for my MLIS degree (my professional experience moderating TeenRC.ca) and a couple of hours ago I got a phone call offering me a job as a librarian in Campbell River BC, out on Vancouver Island. It’s been a good day.

So Campbell River is a small town on the eastern side of the island. The branch there is a hub for five surrounding very small libraries whose collections we also manage. My job is as a Children’s/Youth librarian and they really want to develop their teen programming and services so I’m being given an almost blank slate to be working with. They already have a Teen Advisory Council set up, and my boss is really proud of the teens up there. So it should be a good time.

The branch is small and I’ll get on-desk time covering both Adult and Children’s services, which is great. I know that another library in the library system does D&D nights so there’s precedent for me to get some gaming into this library if the members are into that.

Morning ferry

I’ve never lived in a small town before so we’ll see how that part of everything works, but it’ll be somewhere new and hopefully means I’ll have more to write about. It’s going to be so nice to unsubscribe from all my jobfeeds.

Thank you everyone who’s been nice to me while I’ve been kind of down this summer. I’ve complained a lot about the soul-grinding nature of jobhunting, but I have been lucky enough to get interviews, and now I’m going into full-time work. Which is weird. My plan is to save money for doing the Trans-Siberian trip in the next couple of years since I’ll be making money and won’t be in a big city to spend it.

A week from today I’m going to go to Winnipeg for a week. It’s been a year and a half since I was there for my grandma’s funeral. I planned this a while ago as a break from the accursed hunt, but now it’ll be much more fun without my lack of income to pay October’s rent looming.

I’ll also try to write more now that I’m no longer wasting all my energy on cover-letters.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

we haven’t watched miracle on 34th street yet

I’m in Virginia with Holly’s family for Xmas. We got into Dulles airport yesterday morning after taking the redeye from Seattle. Tim and Krista, Holly’s brother and sister-in-law, picked us up at the airport and drove us the couple of hours to Harrisonburg and Holly’s home.

Holly’s family (including parents Nancy and Harry, sister Amy) is really comfortable to hang around with. Everything’s real relaxed and Holly’s Virginia accent is strengthening by the moment. They have cows wandering the property. Yesterday after our (much-appreciated) naps we went up on a hike through the woods up the ridge behind their house. Out on the neighbours’ property they have a firing range set up for shooting at targets from a hundred to a couple of hundred metres away down a hollow.

Today we drove into town to run some errands and it’s kind of weird how spread out town is. It’s a bunch of scattered little settlement areas around hills from each other with farms in between. We went to visit Holly’s grandmother, got eggs from a dairy farm (I suppose there are also chickens around somewhere and these weren’t artificially-shelled cow ova), and got cinnamon buns at a place Holly might get a job. We also saw the town’s library, which was pretty decent, in a nice new building with friendly staff who recommended decent movies when they saw our stack of DVDs we were getting.

I think what I like best is seeing how happy Holly is to be home. I’m never this excited about being in Winnipeg. She’s enjoying the smells of her town and how beautiful the different drives out to her parents’ house are and running into people she hasn’t seen in a long while and being able to tell them she’s staying indefinitely.

The weirdest thing about being here is the lack of snow. It’s like 11 degrees Celsius and there’s no snow. I expected it to feel like fall in Vancouver, but this is a bit odd. The days are still pretty short though, so I don’t quite feel like I haven’t left Oz.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

no arguing theology at a funeral

A week and a half ago my grandma died. She was the last of my grandparents. So I flew back to Winnipeg for the funeral over the weekend. As far as funerals go, it seemed fine. There was coffee and food at the viewing (not in the exact same space as the viewing; in a separate room so as not to get any crumbs on grandma) and the minister read her obituary and mangled everyone’s names. He did better at the funeral proper.

I hadn’t seen a lot of grandma in the past year or so. Even when I lived in Winnipeg I didn’t go over to hang out without my mom or anything. Last time I’d seen her was June or maybe July, when she’d just moved out to Niverville. Even then she’d lost a lot of weight, so I wasn’t too astonished at how little she looked like my stocky good-for-plow grandma in the casket. Wax and bone and un-permed hair is what was left for us to bury.

My cousin represented the grandchildren in the funeral service, and she told stories about food and games, all the normal grandmother kinds of things. She also told a story about how grandma’d been praying to die since she was 10. I didn’t remember that story. I remembered Grandma being ready to die for years though. Mom hated when she talked like that. But in the last couple of years it started to make sense. (To me. None of this is me speaking for my mother here. If you find this disrespectful, it’s all me.)

The minister who did the service wasn’t too bad. Grandma picked him beforehand, saying “he may not look like much but he gives a good sermon.” And though he talked about a lot of crap I find ridiculous, it was the kind of crap that grandma believed so I’d be a bit of an asshole for debating it or shaking my head in too superior a fashion. But at the gravesite in among the rest of the going home kind of talk, he said “Trudie’s now in a better place than she was in the last years of her life.” I appreciated that. It acknowledged that she’d wanted to die for a long time, felt she was done, but also recognized that she’d had better years in this vale of tears, times that were better than some notional afterlife.

But snicker as I might at notions of afterlife, I still do love old-timey gospel songs about dying. Much better than hymns. If you ever ask me to arrange a funeral that’s all it’s going to be. Fair warning.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

mini-trip

Mom and I took a trip out to Niverville on Sunday. My grandma’s moving into not-exactly-a-nursing home out there on Tuesday. We were bringing a truck-load of her smaller things, dishes clothes knicknacks and such. Grandma’s going to be on a floor where there’s a bit of security so that the inhabitants who don’t know exactly where or who they are can’t go wandering out and down the street. We had a good time playing “spot the person with dementia” which is very simple by Mom’s rules; anyone who doesn’t respond to her friendly hello with an immediate chummy conversation is obviously demented.

Tagged , , , , ,

still existing when the covers are shut

I spent the day packing up all my books in preparation for moving out of my condo. Which I sold. I may not have mentioned that on the blog proper, just on Twitter. Yeah. I sold my condo. Hoofuckingray! And now I’ve got 33 boxes full of books that’ll be following me around the country to wherever I end up going to school. Unless I go to China. I am not taking 33 boxes of books to China.

I suppose it’s natural to think “man, I’ve got too much stuff” when you’re in the middle of packing it up and moving/storing it places. But that doesn’t change the sentiment. In general I feel sort of non-materialistic in my perspective on life or whatever, but that perspective is kind of easy to poke holes in when I have 33 boxes of books alone in my living room.

I kind of feel like I should pare it down, but when I told my mom about that yesterday she seemed shocked. “But your books? That’s you!” Now part of that concern is because she’s purchased a lot of expensive and wonderful books for me over the years and she doesn’t want to see that investment get wasted. But the important and meaningful books aren’t the ones I’d be getting rid of. I have two boxes full of old theology books from my late grandfather. Grandpa was a minister and I rescued a pile of his books so Grandma wouldn’t have to get rid of them. But seriously, my library will work just fine with five theology books instead of two boxes of them. Same thing with my university books. There are some that are great, that even if I’m not using them regularly I want them in my library. The first year intro books are not those ones. I have roleplaying games I’ll never play, paperbacks I’m half-ashamed to own and all these orphaned books from the middles of series I never read any of the other volumes to.

But. If I get rid of any of these things I’m going to miss them. I’m not going to miss the shitty Jysk chair I bought for the cat to sit on, or my glass-brick shelves. Books are the things I’ll miss. Even though I hate the idea of me being so tied to these objects I’ve got sitting in these boxes. I think I’d still be me if I couldn’t reach out and grab a Murakami book to read from. I think so, but I don’t quite know. I’d be different though. At least a little bit.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

on effability

Last night I went to see PZ Myers speak on “The War between Religion and Science.” His side is that creationism is bad because religion is bad. The highlight of the night came in the Q&A afterwards, in an exchange with what appeared to be a 13-year-old girl. She asked, in her wavering nervous voice, what he thought about purity rings that some of the kids today wear to symbolize that they aren’t going to have sex. He said that studies show that those wearers tend to be more active in terms of oral and anal sex so they don’t seem too effective. She responded from her microphone, “Well, actually, I think the rings are only about vaginal intercourse. Not oral or anal.” And there was general laughter, so I missed a bit before Myers (also laughing) said, “Yeah, purity rings signify you’re into anal.”

There was only one person in the Q&A asking questions from a creationist perspective, a Mr. Toews. Sean and I were kind of hoping there’d be more. As Myers said in response to another precocious kid, “A room full of atheists with one Christian can be just as smug as a room full of Christians with one atheist. It’s just a function of group dynamics.” It was a pretty smug room.

But the interesting part of the evening for me (aside from learning about Darrelle Revis) was afterwards when the three of us, Dave, Sean and I, were walking back to the van and Dave asked, “So, did he convert you?” It threw me off. Convert me? I would have thought I’d be seen as firmly on the side of science when it comes to creation vs evolution. And more skeptical/scientific leaning than religious in general. But the fact that Dave, my lifelong friend, could think otherwise, well, it gave me pause.

Now, Myers was talking about how stupid religion is because it depends on things that can’t be verified by evidence. Christianity is only an appeal to the authority of a book of bronze age legends (and assorted accretions from throughout the centuries). Just saying “It’s in the Bible” doesn’t make it so. I agree that that’s a bad way to think.

For most people, I’d argue, science is the same way. Sure, if you are actually a scientist you’re talking about piles of experiments and data that’s been collected and has proven reliable, and you are theoretically open to the possibility of the next discovery being made that could set the whole thing on its ear. But for many people all they hear is “It’s been scientifically proven that…” Regular non-scientist people don’t go searching through the journals to assess the methods used. They gloss over when scientists start talking about actual details.

A while back I was trying to explain to my mom how the proto-humans in Olduvai Gorge were determined to be as old as they are. I learned this stuff in university, and could explain how radioactive dating worked in general, but Mom asked, “But how do they know it works?” And I said things fit with the evidence so far. “What’s the other evidence? How do they know?” And I had to throw up my hands and say, “Look mom, they’re specialists! I trust them to know what they’re doing!” Because I don’t know what they’re doing exactly. I don’t think this is uncommon. People hand over the responsibility of thinking about science to the authorities, the same way people hand over thinking about morality to the clergy (or to their chosen traditional book of legends). It’s not like the age of some African fossils actually makes much of a difference to my life, so I’m not going to become an expert. This is why we get so much pseudo-science around, just like we get so much dangerous religion (and exploitative “spiritual” bullshit), because people aren’t interested in being responsible for what they think.

And yes you can blame bad basic science education for that. That’s certainly what PZ Myers is doing. But the fact of the matter is that not everyone in the world is going to be a scientist. He wants people who aren’t scientists to trust science, because it’s based on evidence. But when religion is based on experience you’ve got a problem. Science asks you to believe your senses. Well, not your senses exactly, the senses of these specialists who know what they’re doing. When the report from someone else’s senses comes into conflict with a person’s direct experience of whatever transcendence or peace or good feelings a person gets from religion that’s the issue. If my grandma is happy believing that she’s going to sit around on fluffy clouds praising Jesus with my dead grandpa for all eternity when she dies, me explaining how that’s just chemicals coursing through her brain on well worn neural pathways isn’t going to help her have a better life. Her experience of religion has far more weight with her than the words of some authority.

At the lecture last night there was mention of the humanistic philosophy being one that we are the creators of everything we find meaningful. And it’s investing something with meaning that’s one of the most important things we can do. Yes that something may be a collection of moral rules so our bunch of primates don’t rape each other constantly, but it’s also where our art or anything else we find meaningful comes in. A person asked a question about what hope the atheist community can offer to compete with what religion does. Myers said “Hope based on a lie is not hope.” Bullshit. All we’ve got are the lies we choose to believe in. That’s it.

I do think that the scientific method is the best way people have of understanding how the universe works. Right now. But. We made up the scientific method just like we made up all those myths we don’t believe anymore. Maybe it’s my Lovecraft showing, but I think there are important things we don’t know, that are ineffable (and possibly squamous). And that’s why we have created all these cultural phenomena like religion and science. Like stories and metaphor. We try to make things make sense, even though they won’t. I think a purely materialistic view of existence is wrong, especially for the individual, because it’s just as blinkered as dogmatic woowoobeliving. I think there are plenty of important unverifiable things. People are still small, fragile and stupid, and it seems the height of arrogance to think we can know everything, be it from ancient scriptures or analyzing fossils. Things are more complex than we want them to be. “The way that can be explained is not the eternal way.”

(I also believe in most of this.)

So yeah. That was my evening. And this post’s length is why I didn’t have a real good answer for Dave on the ride home. Sorry dude.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

making something out of something

On Friday I buckled down and worked. Not on any of my work that needs doing (I get scared of my book from time to time because I suck) but on Grandma’s birthday video. It’s funny how lost I can actually get in making something. How fast time can go. This doesn’t happen to me all the time. Even when I’m dicking about on the internet I feel aware of each and every second I’m frittering away.

In the end Final Cut and I got Grandma’s movie sorted out and put on a VHS tape for her. Oh VHS, you are such an ugly horrible medium.

I don’t know exactly why my regular Saturday shift begins at 9:15 with a break at 9:45. I suppose there’s a reason for it somewhere but it’s odd. Note I didn’t say “I’m sure” because I do work for the city. Right now we’re only allowed to have three people on-desk at a time, meaning one person at least is banished into the lightless cells at any given time. This is so we don’t appear to be inefficient in our department and have our hours cut back in these “tough economic times.” Supposedly if there is to be a cutting back of hours everyone’s positions are re-posted and it is a horrible seniority-based free for all to grab something resembling your job. I hope that doesn’t happen.

Although if it did happen it might provide me a kick start. Mom and I were talking the other day about my September trip to China along with Holly’s bakery she’s opening (isn’t that awesome? A bakery!) , and Mom said something like “I keep on expecting you to run off to China again.” And I told her that if I could go without teaching I would. But until I completely lose my memory of how much I disliked teaching I probably won’t go. It’s a choice I’m going to be working with for forever probably: choosing between a job I hate with a life I enjoy vs this grey okayness of work and life. Hm. when I put it that way it seems like hardly a choice at all.

But in the greyness there are the occasional nice evenings like last night with Aileen and Alison that make me forget about the rest of the time. And next week I’m going to Calgary. That promises to be a good time.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

happy birthday grandma

There is no simple practical way to split the audio from the video in iMovie. Do you realize how fucking ridiculous that fucking fuckshit is? It wants me to import a clip into my project, then import another version of just the audio, then import the B-Roll footage making sure it’s at the end of the now extended project, then cut precisely the amount of video from the initial clip then move the B-Roll into place, then mute the B-Roll and the initial clip and god fucking help you if there’s the slightest miscue because then your audio gets chopped off the end because it is a fucking goddamn piece of shit-smearing stab stab stab my fucking eyes.

And the video is horrible because I couldn’t get a decent white balance in that room with the mix of light. Everything’s murky orange and grey and this whole thing is just an ugly disgusting mess. Grandma gets her VHS copy but there is no way I’m making DVDs for anyone else of this garbage that looks like it came from 1983.

UPDATE: I now have software that works and am less angry about the whole thing. It will still be ugly as shit but now I won’t have to break my brain getting it all together.

Tagged , , , ,
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 330 other followers