La vie en noir et blanc

Why no Duceppe?

Dear readers,

Why didn't I give the Bloc a chance to block Buffy's blasts?

As Dooner pointed out, Duceppe's not on the voter list of my Buffy poll. That is because I resent the fact that he, but very likely not May, will be included in the televised leaders debates this fall.

There're no Blocs running in any riding I have ever lived in, whereas the Greens are running candidates in every riding.

So why the hell haven't I had a chance to see the May Mouth on the little screen, eh?

Also, in a world where our leaders would war with Buffy, I, like Dooner, have a feeling Duceppe would be a vampire and thus ineligible for this contest.

Love,
Kate Nova

Buffy vs the G-man

An eternal thank you to Townie Bastard for pointing out this enlightening article, excerpted below from the most recent issue of the TV Guide.

Buffy’s unholy alliance
By Melissa Hank
2008-08-26

‘Vampire Slayer’ made women abandon church

Not only did Buffy Summers slay vampires with the greatest of ease, but she also decimated Britain’s female church-going population – at least, so says a new study.

According to a British report cited in the Telegraph, an estimated 50,000 women are quitting the church each year because of the sci-fi series Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The study claims that during the past 20 years the women deserted their congregations because they feel that the church was no longer relevant to their lives.

Instead, women are turning to the pagan religion Wicca, in which females are prominent. Wicca has been portrayed positively in the past decade through media such as the TV series Charmed (1998-2006), the film The Craft (1996) and the Harry Potter franchise.
...

“Because of its focus on female empowerment, young women are attracted by Wicca, popularised by the TV series Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” said the report’s author, Dr. Kristin Aune, a sociologist at the University of Derby.

"Young women tend to express egalitarian values and dislike the traditionalism and hierarchies they imagine are integral to the church.”
...

The Church of England declined to comment.

Wow. It's all so much clearer now. Not only is she distracting me from work, but also my soul.

Wednezday thoughts

I read this morning that Toronto is instituting its personal vehicle tax this week. It'll cost $60 a year for the luxury of owning a car in the city, which I always thought was a great idea (and less complicated than, say, putting levies on the highway).

Before moving here I was a passionate cyclist and public transit user. I swore I'd never own a car, and regularly got in pissing matches with "Them" that did over parking jobs in the bike lane. I still wear my Dufferin Station pin proudly on my Mac bag.

Yeah, now I am a driver.

I think we could do with an annual levy here too. Whereas the Toronto tax is to generically "balance the budget," I think a northern levy should be applied directly to the cost of, say, disposing of end-of-life vehicles. Hey, maybe there is one already. It's too early to badger people on the phone for the answer.

Besides, Northerners actually pay less at the gas station than most other provinces. I was pleasantly surprised at the difference between Nova Scotia and here when I returned.

The other thing I was thinking this morning was this story about ol' Harpee asking Michaelle Jean to cancel her China trip next week.

But what about the paralympians?

Pointless e-mail correspondence

Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008
Subject: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

It was stormy last night, and the wind was shaking the house...I don't remember Layton being in Nunavut when Harper made his Nanisivik announcement, do you? Funny how he told CBC he was.

I would like to put them both in a room with Buffy and have her kick their ass. Sometimes I think about it when I'm bored. Like now.
-------------------------------
Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008 09:19:40
Subject: Re: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

Layton really is a wang. The only reason I hate Harper more is because he's the one with power and is therefore more dangerous.

I'd love to see Buffy put the boots to the two of them. There's only one problem: it'd be over mighty fast. Maybe the witches could revive them with magic and then Buffy could do it again....
------------------------------
Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008
Subject: Re: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

Nice one. And Anya (who has returned to her Vengeance Demon roots since Xander left her at the altar) can curse them to eternal pain of some sort.
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Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008 09:39:35
Subject: Re: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

Perhaps by consigning them to one of those ethics committee hearings that stretches on forever. Have you watched any of that gong show on CPAC? THAT's painful.
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Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008
Subject: Re: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

Like in a loop. There's this one episode where Buffy has to keep reliving this moment over and over until she finds a way to satisfy a customer at the Magic Box. So they would loop through the same moment over and over until they solved some specific task.
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Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008 09:58:27
Subject: Re: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

Like getting witnesses to answer questions without Conservative members raising pointless points of order!
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Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2008
Subject: Re: Buffy vs Harper = asskicking

Exactly.

This is true art

I am not much of a TV-watcher, for although I have access to one I don't have channels. However, I have one major TV obsession: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I have watched every episode of all seven seasons on my computer at least twice. Three times for most. I have also re-read every available issue of Season 8 at least twice.

My favourite episode of all time is in Season 6, called "Once More With Feeling" (aka the musical theatre episode). I just watched it twice in a row. It includes a special features section with three karoake songs.

See, Buffy died for a second time at the end of Season 5, and her well-meaning friends brought her back to life at the beginning of Season 6. They thought she'd been sucked into a hell dimension, only she wasn't, she was in heaven. She was cruelly dragged back into reality, and temporarily traumatized by the whole digging-herself-out-of-a-coffin thing. Then there were plumbing bills and stuff to pay, and she kind of felt like she was in hell, but she didn't want to hurt her friends feelings so she didn't tell them about the whole heaven thing.

In "Once More With Feeling" this demon is summoned that makes everyone sing their truest feelings like a musical theatre number, complete with dance moves.

(That is my true dream. I want to live in a world where I can dance and sing really well, and everyone around me can too.)

So of course she sings her true feelings about getting pulled out of heaven, and then she kind of tried to commit suicide by dancing herself to death. Spike, the neutered vampire, was the only one to step in. They kiss in the end.

The end.

Thule site and area

Imagine my joy

I think this is the first caterpillar I've seen since moving.

On the land near the Thule site.

'Round Rankin

Shades of Greyhound gray

A couple weeks back aboard a Greyhound bus, my guitar case tapping a rhythm on my thigh. Sprawled across the seats in a purple hoodie, bare feet on the glass and eyes half-closed against early morning sun.

I was heading out of Ottawa where my lovely cousins had put me up for a few days, on to a nearby town and my next bit of adventure with a new-ish friend. No partner, no mortgage (heck, no lease), and no real pressing need for the future, but feeling so absolutely, wonderfully rich in life I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

I was sitting there, thinking that for whatever warped reason I've spent my whole life working toward this one muteable thing, this freedom. Never to be stuck, strapped, trapped or tied down. Never to feel the need to subscribe to anyone else's idea of a life; never to need anything, really.

Now, I've reached that plane to a certain extent. I still crave comforts. I still yearn to have good people around me. And do I ever have some Jesus-high student loans. But all in all I was feeling pretty darn free that day.

And it was scary. My eyes shot open like this big draft entered my chest, like the walls shot out a hundred feet and I was standing in the middle of an empty ballroom, waiting for the music to start and get me moving again.

So, I've achieved some semblance of freedom, aged 28. But do I have the strength of character to accept it? All around me my friends are getting married, they're having babies and buying large things on credit. They are moving to freakin' farms. They are building lives and fulfilling their family obligations. And me? Where am I? Will I wake up in two years and say, shit, why do I feel so lonely? Why do I feel like I've got nothing at all? Why didn't I settle and make a stand?

Right now I feel selfishly like I have the whole world on indefinite loan. I'm looking forward to some new adventures. But will I always be strong enough to accept that, or will I decide that what I really yearn for is just a small part of the world, to be mine and mine alone?

Huh. Just sayin'.

Learnin' sports

This ain't a dealership

It's the parking lot at one of the local schools. There are way more quads here than in the capital.

Mussels

I went out picking mussels with Kassina and Lucy last night, and it is a good thing I have no family to provide for. My haul was a little on the really, truly feeble side. However, I like to think I found my nourishment in the breathtaking landscape around me.

Also, I have really dorky rubber boots.

The Rankin detour was a bit of a surprise, so I had nothing but my All Stars and a pair of bright red dress shoes when I came back from vacation. Yesterday I finally gave in and went to Northern. Unfortunately, the only pair of rubber boots in my size were pale purple with ladybugs. And they cost $30. Now I will be wearing them until September.

I'm too embarassed to post a picture of them right now. Maybe I will later.

Weekend softball tournament

Good Northern readin'

This great blog is following the progress of the Qanuippitali Inuit Health Survey.

Good photos and writing and interesting stories. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say who is actually doing the writing or not, but she rocks!!!

Where do they all come from??!?

There is an army of flies in my office, and a graveyard on the floor.

Jackie is my hero

Jackie, fellow reporter and blogger, dropped by the office today and brought me a MAP. This is possibly the most amazing thing ever.

Like in Iqaluit, no one here uses street names. No one uses street numbers. A lot of instructions seem to begin with "...you know the orange building?"

On Wednesday I went looking for the airport and ended up at the dump.

A map. It's... it's like a key to a different dimension. Will make delivering the papers so much easier this week.

Media minute

Yeah, I found this story on perezhilton.com, I admit it.

Shitty job market means more reporters relocating to India. Huh. Who knew?

Where am I?

Yesterday I was an item in a scavenger hunt for returning teachers in Rankin Inlet, where I am and will be for the next six weeks.

For my southern readers, I am way west of where I normally would be. I am on the mainland rather than the island, in a town way smaller than the capital.

So yesterday afternoon, these groups of scavenger hunt participants had to find me and ask me to sign their sheet. Working in a lonely office of one, this was a lovely distraction.

I'd never been a scavenger hunt item before. I'd also never seen a siksik until this week, and you can only imagine my joy. In fact, I freaked out, slammed on the brakes and cheered.

Then it ran away.

Vacation Diaries: Flotsam and jetsam

Last one for the Vacation Diaries.

Skinny-dipping:

In two provinces, salty and fresh. I love my life!

Yoga:

Lots of it, mainly at Octopus Garden in Toronto, which is an amazing school and changed my life a couple years ago. There is no air conditioning and it was hot.

Also attended a couple classes at Breathing Space in Halifax, but flow yoga's not really my thing. I did however meet a friend of inflatable elvis's mom who talked at length about what a Nice Boy he is. (The Maritimes are a SMALL PLACE. So is the North. He had previously dated one of my old roommates, a fact we stumbled upon eight years later after I took his old job at my current paper. Weeeeird.)

I had intended to get my YogaFit certification, but they are giant jerkwads and cancelled the course without contacting me. This, after I re-booked plane tickets and re-arranged my life to take it. It didn't make me feel very peaceful.

Sailing:

An awesome four days sailing with a friend from NU. Hanging on to the wheel in a little squall is like Round Two in one night where you feel totally balanced and in tune. I like sunshine. I'm sure I'll get a few songs out of it.

And now I'm back at work, though not returned to NU's lovely capital yet. I think I'm getting homesick!

I needed this

My life is way too weird and confusing right now. Thank you for this Rob Brezny, it's all so much clearer:

Gemini Horoscope for week of August 7, 2008
Although the platypus is technically a furry mammal, a new study of its genetic code reveals that it also has some qualities common to birds and reptiles. It lays eggs and has venom like a snake and a bill like a duck. Sounds like it's the perfect creature to serve as your totem in the coming week, Gemini. Life will bring you unexpected mixtures and improbable hybrids. You won't be able to make sense of your experience if you rely on your usual categories. And I think you'll find that the best way to attract good fortune will be to weave together threads of different colors and textures.

Vacation diaries: Drunken on a Halifax pier

My cousins and I scrambled for a table patioside at the Lower Deck one night in July. The sole free berth was right next to a group of meatheads who'd parked their dirty motorboats on the dock about three metres away.

Hilarity ensued as the would-be suitors attempted to pick up my beautiful cousins using lines like, "You wouldn't believe the perks you get when you park your boat here."

Hilarity was cemented when a pirate - a PIRATE - swung off the deck of one of the incoming tall ships and demanded the meatheads move their dirty boats out of his slip. Pirates: 1, Meatheads: 0.

Yes. There are gods. Now if only they can do something about the smell of Halifax Harbour.

Vacation diaries: Hammonds Plains

My mother's partner is recently retired. My mother is not retired. Every morning he meets his buddy at Tim Horton's up the road for a "meeting." Then he does stuff. Builds stuff, fixes stuff, gets dirty, and then Mom makes him wear a towel to get inside the car.

It took some time for Mom to warm up to my presence in the driver's seat of her vehicle, but she did. My travels were subsequently based on the foundation of an Aussie-sounding GPS unit named Karen.

Karen never led me astray. Her cool voice was my lifeline in times of stress involving many-laned highways, traffic lights and tractor trailers. My 14-year-old cousin Coady invented new dialogue for her, like, "WTF, you went the wrong way homie-G. LOL."

Vacation diaries: Street art in the Centre of the Universe

photo courtesy of my sister Megan

Vacation diaries: Toronto

In Toronto I ate food. Vietnamese, Japanese, Greek, Korean, Ethiopian, Italian, Lebanese and good ol' Canadian pub.

I ate mango salsa and marlin on Seb's deck, and four kinds of smoked salmon on Brenda's.

I ate food with my girlfriends, my sister and by myself. All of it was lovely, and the service, well, existed and was impressive to one who usually waits 15 minutes to be aknowledged.

Toronto was early in the trip, when things like trees were still exciting after over 13 months on Baffin Island. It was also hot, oppressively so. I bought new clothes for the hot weather while shopping for warm clothes for cold weather. I bought new purple pants which I wore to Dream in High Park even though it was too hot for them.

In short, I was a consumer. But surrounded by loved ones and good nutrition.

Vacation diaries: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Season 8)

photo courtesy of my sister Megan

Vacation diaries: Pomquet

Granny on my dad's side is a 76-year-old Acadian woman with 13 kids and a million grandkids, and always happy with a few more. On my visit she met me at the door and a big smile crept across her face. She reached out and tapped my belly.

Granny: You're pregnant!
Me: No! A world of no.
Granny: Yes, you are. Look at you!
Me: Oh my god, I swear not.
Granny: Well, you got fat.
Me: Granny!
Granny: Well, glad I asked. I would have been burning up the phone lines.

I'm from that tiny village and went to its tiny school and tiny church, and once was sent away to Acadian indoctrination camp. My father is big into the history stuff and seems a little jealous his wife got her Metis card before he got his.

I'm currently reading an unrelated book about Mohawk warriors, but learned there were also guerrilla Acadian warriors who refused to get on the boat. This brought me joy. Blame it on Acadian indoctrination camp.

GrampaJoe was a Cape Breton miner who worked in the mines in Yellowknife circa 1949. He has four chickens which live in the backyard and sometimes go for walks.