Aw, man. Apparently I'm celebrating this weekend by posting some of the most embarrassing photos taken of myself within recent memory over in the D.I.Y. section, all for the sake of helping the sewing-inclined internets learn how to make a paper tape dressform. The things I do to be helpful.

9:19 PM »  (0) Comments

I just spent about fifteen minutes gawking over the storm of comments following this post on Dooce.

There's the outlying portion of her readership that is offended because she runs a personal website, has taken that space to explicitly state her opinion, one time, on political issues, and thinks -- usually preceded with words to the effect of "and this is the LAST TIME I will visit your site" -- that her opinions are wrong. (The English teacher in me is always amused by "your OPINIONS are WRONG" reactions. I can think your opinions are ill-founded, ill-informed, or petty, and I may well extend these assessments to your character and your intellect, but I have a hard time knocking down an entire set of beliefs as completely off the moral scale because they don't agree with my own.)

Then there's the mega-dittos people, or those posting a simple note of acknowledgment, despite perhaps not agreeing with her views.

Then, perhaps inevitably on the internet as in life, you get into The Crazy. (The Crazy, it should be noted, can never express their opinions with any kind of brevity or command of neutral language, except maybe in the case of posting one-line links to websites that promise to reveal THE TRUTH about the FILTHY BIAS of x or y.) And those are the responses that cause a tangible spike in my blood pressure. Now, in Madison, there's a certain, er, homogeneity in political belief. And I know plenty of Republicans, Democrats, partially-adherent Green Party or Progressive Dane members, and unabashed Libertarians of various backgrounds and belief systems, but because almost all of these people are reasonably intelligent individuals in some way affiliated with the University system, there's some kind of tacit respect underlying the discussion du jour of political rhetoric, tactics, or whatever.

So -- removed from the world as I am, I suppose, by the ivory tower of elitist snobbery and below-the-poverty-line starting wages -- it comes as a sock in the gut to see so much yelling, and so little listening or understanding. I know that's often just how things are, how the media runs, and how people find it easy to parse the universe in general. But honestly? I've never had, say, two students in a classroom, students with the common bond of sitting in the same discussion section every week, being assigned the same reading material (that they both likely hate or don't care about), and dealing with the same awful essay prompts that I've written, screeching HOW DARE YOU at each other, referring to each other as "typical" liberals or conservatives with no character / morals / family values / responsibility / compassion / intelligence / work ethic, or anything anywhere close to that kind of extreme. I've been spoiled by being almost completely surrounded by very cool, smart, and accepting people, and also by having the luxury of choosing to not engage with those who really don't want to hear anything that might challenge their carefully-constructed illustration of the world, or who try to convince me of the very real danger presented by a citizenry without their own private militias. I'm, as you probably know or have guessed, of a moderately liberal bent. But even if we don't see eye to eye, I'll probably like you and respect you well enough if you're another decently smart and open-minded type, and we'll get along famously.

So, to the thing that surprises me most: sometimes, when I meet someone here in Montréal who finds out that I'm an American, they say "Ah!". And then, completely frankly, curiously, and unagressively, they ask me my opinion about the U.S. presidential race. Just like that: "So what do you think about the election?" And I really can't get used to it: this person, who I don't know, who doesn't have any knowledge or vested interest in me, is nevertheless genuinely interested in knowing my opinion about the politics of my home country.

Il faut cultiver notre jardin. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to dust off some of my talking points.

4:20 PM »  (1) Comments

So I'm looking at tomorrow's movie listings at one of the local movie megaplexes. Their film selection is spotty -- they never got "The Dark Knight" in, for example -- but it's usually my starting place because a) you can catch a very quiet 11 a.m. Saturday matinee for $6 (it's hard to find a place that has any for under $10), and b) they're run largely anglo versions of films (for some reason, my husband just doesn't want to watch the moving pictures, he wants to be able to understand the dialogue, too).

I'm seeing a lot of stuff that I don't recognize on the listings, and then I check out what languages they're in:

• English (obviously)
• French (again, obviously)
• Hindi
• Hebrew
• Mandarin
• Inuktitut

Awesome. I kind of want to see the one in Inuktitut, just to say that I have.

3:37 PM »  (1) Comments

I've been putting in a concerted effort at writing a dissertation chapter recently, and it is my sad duty to inform you that the more schooling you have, the more training you have in the teaching and doing of writing, the slower your writing becomes. It takes a ridiculously long time for me to produce a single page these days. I know that it's because of higher standards -- whereas, as an undergrad, I could unfurl a perfectly lovely paper in a single late-night sitting the night before the due date, I know that my adviser wouldn't be so keen on whatever would result from a similar strategy these days -- and also the general brain clutter that results from having to simultaneously mentally integrate piles of primary sources, secondary sources, and outlines, but still.

The byproduct of all of this laborious wordsmithing is that I become much more circumspect about the expenditure of words in all other facets of my life. Can't write on Jejune! I need to save those words! Can't respond to email! I might lose some words! Don't want to talk now! Need to cling to my words! Perhaps uncoincidentally, I've been taking a fair number of photos (for me) and updating my Flickr account pretty regularly with pictures of... well, stuff around me, stuff that forms some kind of context for my life besides sitting at my desk in front of the computer. Do you think it would be the other way around if I were in art school?

8:07 PM »  (0) Comments

In other news, I've finally discovered my superpower. I could call myself Demagneto. Because so far, I've managed to demagnetize my Metro card every single month, despite taking utmost care to store it away from magnets, electronic devices, and so on. It's not so much of a problem on the Metro -- I could get a replacement, or just do what I've been doing and smile brightly while waving the nonfunctional card at the employee in the ticket kiosk -- but I'll admit to being a little concerned because I'll be cat-sitting for the next week for friends who live in a magnetic-card-controlled apartment building. Superpowers, deactivate!

10:34 AM »  (0) Comments

Under the picture of this week's sale shampoo and conditioner, the drug store circular has thoughtfully translated its copy into English.

"VIVE LES CHEVEUX!"

"VIVA LA HAIR!"

Nope. It's just not the same.

9:38 PM »  (2) Comments

So after a full week of almost complete inactivity, my knee made a remarkable recovery over the weekend (to the point where I now have a full range of motion, albeit a slightly uncomfortable one). To make the most of my newfound "I want to bike! And run! And lift weights! And take over the world!" enthusiasm at the return of this mobility, Pete and I wandered down to check out the neighborhood Y and sign up for that membership I promised I'd give myself.

Seeing that I left the "Employment" part of the sign-up form blank, the nice young lady at the desk asked, "Oh, are you a student?"

"Well, yes, but part-time," I explained. "I'm a grad student."

"Oh, but if you're a grad student, that counts as full-time!" she exclaimed.

"Really? Because I'm enrolled part-time in the States."

"Right, but here, we consider being a grad student a full-time thing. Because it's so much work, and you're constantly working on your studies, so it's like a full-time job, yeah?" she replied.

It was the most unexpectedly generous and kind assessment I've had for a long time of the largely tedious, often intermittent, and seemingly unproductive enterprise that I've embarked upon since graduating from college oh so many years ago.

And I got a discounted gym membership out of it. Oh, Canada!

7:30 AM »  (2) Comments

Lest ye think, after reading the preceding post, that my life is genuinely dismal, I should note that I got dressed up real nice and took a very slow stroll around a couple of blocks to the drugstore and grocery store this evening. The weather was gorgeous, I slowly stretched out the offending knee tendon, and -- in this land of $6.50 pints of Ben and Jerry's (which only comes in like three flavors), after drooling over the N. C. Double Scoop all morning -- pints of Smarties ice cream were on sale for $0.99 each. It was truly a wonderful day.

5:32 PM »  (2) Comments