The Funk

It's that fun time of the year when winter begins to settle in. The first big snowfall happened not too long ago, and now the weather has decided to trick us by moving to above-zero temperatures briefly. I won't fall for it though.

I went home this past weekend to see my family and tie up some loose ends. It felt nice to be taken care of for once, so here I am, sitting in a sweater my mom bought me from Old Navy (oh, moms) and a too-expensive "I deserve this" scarf, purchased this weekend. My wallet hurts.

I'm alternating between Alice Munro's Runaway and the third Hunger Games book, Mockingjay. I think this is because sometimes it's good for books to make you feel sad, and sometimes it's good for books to make you forget why you feel sad. (Jesus, was that depressing?)

Speaking of distractions, this movie looks good, no? 

Getting Old

This is my favourite track off of Lorde's new album Pure Heroine. I can't get over the lyrics, mostly because they match whatever melancholy/frenzy I've caught myself in lately.

I keep noticing tiny things, patterns and all that. I'm not taking any English classes right now, so maybe my mind is just searching for allegory. I'm on the search for a sad movie, as if that will give me something new to fixate over.

Thinking about the idea of holes: "There is a place in the heart that will never be filled and we will wait and wait in that space." Maybe I should read more poetry. Maybe I should have never let Tess leave my nightstand.

I probably just need to see my cat again.

It's Been Awhile

Now that autumn weather has finally (!) landed, I'm forced to spend more time on my computer watching Breaking Bad and reading too many blogs - not that I spent that much time outside anyway.

It's been a hectic two or so months since my last post. I ought to create a list, complete with bullet points noting every single thing that has happened since.

I won't do that, though, because I am not a sadist.

The only things worth telling you are that: 1. the family seems to have adopted a second cat, as evidenced by the picture above, and 2. I finally got a fucking iPhone.

There will be more to talk about soon, I think. I feel like I'm clamming up.

In keeping with old habits, I'll think of something fitting to say later.

Until then.

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

A man takes a camera into the elevator of a London tower block everyday. Gradually, the inhabitants become more familiar with him, through small, daily interactions.

sonder

n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

I suggest watching all 24 minutes of the video. After that, read The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, from which the above definition was taken.

Calm

It's not as boring as you think it might be.

Hubris

Hubris is saying 'full speed ahead' (or I don't know) when you probably shouldn't.

Hubris is Victor in Frankenstein.

Hubris is me laughing like an idiot when I thought about how my bike has, in all four years of living here, never been stolen. 

That, and shrugging my shoulders when neglecting to get the serial number, make, and model for the only reason I ever made it to class (in warm weather).

THAT, and thinking that I wouldn't need a U-lock, that a rope lock slightly thicker than my thumb would do the trick.

Anyway.

Battles and Ghosts

George Metcalf Archival Collection, Canadian War Museum

For a long time now, I've harbored a strange fascination with World War I and World War II. I wouldn't necessarily call myself a history buff, in the way that people can recall facts and figures at the drop of a hat, but I do love learning almost everything about those eras. It's so different from how we live now, but a time close enough that we still have enough artifacts to look at and learn from. 

Then again, this might just be my love of war literature and Downton Abbey speaking up.

The National Post published this article yesterday, about the relationship Canadian soldiers had with the ghostly and supernatural while on the front lines of war. It's an interesting read, and satisfies that weird part of myself that still thinks ghosts exist*.

*Embarrassingly, a question I struggled with through most of my childhood. I used to read compilations of ghost stories by the handful, scaring myself into insomnia. I still do that sometimes, I'm willing to admit.

My Favourite Things | June 21, 2013

Here’s a first shot at something that’ll (hopefully) be more of a regular fixture on this blog. It’ll be one of the (few) times I let myself write about makeup and clothes (though those won’t be the only things on here). I follow too many of those anyway.

And, if you know me, you know I can talk about things like that for ages, so…

It’s been a rough week. And with a rough week usually comes dull-looking skin. I usually add a bit of this above my cheekbones, under the arch of my brows, and down the centre of my nose. It just adds a little something to how I look in the mornings.

You can get these at Asian grocers. I used to devour them by the handful as a child, but haven’t picked them up until a few months ago. They usually curb my late-afternoon spouts of hunger, but my best memory of them is when Dan and I devoured through an entire (large) box while marathon-ing House of Cards.

My sister gave me hers, which she sewed herself. It’s been a great staple for the summer (I usually pair it with a jean jacket and muter-toned tank top. You can get the one above from ASOS, or just look up instructions on how to put one together. It seems super easy (but don’t ask me – it took me seven hours to put together my laptop case, breaking like 10 needles in the process).

Yada yada yada Hollywood and superheroes. It’s really convenient to dismiss the whole genre, but I actually did enjoy this movie. It was fun and light and not as stupid as I thought it would be. Hooray for going to the movies with low expectations? Also, Henry Cavill.

Until next week!

The Year of the Lion

Yeezus leaked a few days ago, and this just came out yesterday. Still harbouring my crush for Leo, starting back in 1997, I'll end up making the trip to the movies to see him for the third time (!) in the past year.

I have no idea if this movie will be any good, but hey, the trailer's an excusable way to keep listening to "Black Skinhead" more times than I'm willing to admit.

Hey Leo.

Flickering Lights

Happy Thursday - the day before the day before the weekend. 

I was going to pass this as some other lofty artist's project, but it's actually quite nice. Reminds me of when I spent my summer listening to Keats but no one can beat that, can they?

New Things

I finally got Photoshop back on my computer, which means I'll be playing with photography whenever I get the chance. And which also means I'll be removing people's eyebrows from photos to make friends laugh. You know how it goes.

This photo was a 1 am trip to the front yard with Ally a few months ago. She's my little sister and puts up with my shit ("Come let me take photos of you" and "Please please let me borrow your makeup and clothes"), so she deserves all the pastries and creams in the world for it. 

She came up with the family this weekend for my convocation. A good break in the middle of a quiet-yet-surprisingly-busy summer.

Grief

I was in Berry & Peterson about two weeks ago. This book was sitting on a pile that was sitting on a set of stairs. It was thin and hardcover and beautiful so, naturally, I wanted to get it. It was sitting in a pile in my hands for the next 20 minutes while I wandered, looking for a Joan Didion book that I never found. I ended up leaving the book behind, but now I think I seriously regret that decision.

Sorry. I just saw "The Rains of Castamere" last night and, like everybody you follow on any social media site ever, I'm still grieving.

It seems that C.S. Lewis accurately describes what it's like to read/watch George R.R. Martin's work.

Food, Riots and Newspapers

I was sent this article, called "We Are Now One Year Away From Global Riots, Complex Systems Theorists Say", about how growing food prices and worldwide rioting are related. Take a look.

On another note, tomorrow at 7 am we have the delightful (not even being sarcastic) task of delivering the first issue of the Journal to newsstands and such. I can't properly describe my excitement, or how suspicious I am of my low stress levels.

Movies in Color

I'm a bit of a cinephile, in case you couldn't tell. One of the most fascinating things about movies, however, is the cinematography behind it all. I never really appreciated it until I started looking at movie stills, or learning how cameras worked. 

The website Movies in Color is a good way to start indulging in this part of film. While one frame of a movie doesn't necessarily dissect all of its cinematographer's intentions, it's really neat to be able to see what kinds of colours were deemed complementary and all. 

And, sorry for ruining everything, but you'll soon begin to see the little things - ever notice how most films juxtapose orange and blue tones? Sorry. I knew I'd ruin everything.

Marie Antoinette (2006)

Amelie (2001)

Evil Dead (2013)

Scarface (1983)

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

All Eyes on You

Let's not focus on how I found this song through a Taco Bell commercial. It's just a good song. A good summer song that kind of reminds me of bad 80s movies, but whatever.

Happy May 24!

It's been awhile since I've written, which is a good and bad thing I think. I spent the last week being a reporting intern (eeps!) for my new summer job. In between that, the Journal, and sorting out my new apartment, it's been a crazy week. It was a welcome medial that sat between mine and Dan's week in the Dominican Republic (pictures to come) and this weekend of movies, barbecues, and evening beers. 

Here are a few pictures from the past few weeks. On that note, I keep growing more and more convinced that I should purchase an actual DSLR. I've been playing with photography as a hobby for more than a decade now, and it's weird that I've actually never owned my own camera. Perhaps a nice graduation present to myself?

Beef sashimi on rice. My sister, who's allergic to most fish, ate these right up.

One of two built-in bookshelves in the new living room. I always thought
I had too many books, but apparently I don't have enough... So I've filled up
space with old Journal volumes and some heels.

Dan meeting the kittens our friends are fostering for the summer.

New wallets! Dan's (left) is from a "random Indian store on Etsy" where he
got his new leather messenger bag. Mine was an impulse buy at
Urban Outfitters during their 50% off sale items sale yesterday.
Only five bucks!

Morning coffee while playing video games. Such is the life.

It's been a good weekend. We went to see Star Trek: Into Darkness on Friday which, I thought, was a fun movie to start the summer with. Now we're off to a barbecue tonight before Dan heads back to Toronto tomorrow. It's a yay or nay kind of moment because, once he leaves, I'll be able to get back to reading A Clash of Kings, the second book the A Song of Ice and Fire book series.

Weather

Canadian Spring is confusing, but this song is not. I don't normally find myself re-watching live performance videos, but I keep returning to this one. Something about dance moves envy.

In other news, things for ~*~ThE bIg MoVe~*~ are underway - which actually means I've been watching more movies than normal while my room descends into chaotic madness. ~*~ThE bIg MoVe~*~ is really only a block and a half away from where I live now, but when you've spent three years accumulating all the piles of crap in your room, shifting from one place to another becomes super difficult.

This only means that I'll keep staring at my books, trying to will them to move on their own. That, and I'll continue making half-hearted trips to the gym in attempts to increase my lifting strength. Maybe I'll be able to deadlift one day. Maybe.

I'm Not Studying

As we trudge our way through exam season, let's all remember that coursework typically doesn't inspire personal passion. And if it does, well, you're one of the lucky ones I guess?

Putting this up less than a foot away from my face this week. Good luck all!

Nerves

In a little under a month, I will be starting the hardest job of my life thus far. I keep getting asked if I'm nervous. The correct thing would be to smile and graciously tell the questioner that you're just excited to take on the position.

But what do we find? A semi-shaking, semi-frightened, mostly-caffeinated 21-year-old who still gets confused about the meaning of "facetious." (Seriously. I keep having to look it up. I'm looking it up right now, in fact.)

It would be wrong to tell you that I'm not excited. I'm very excited, actually. It's going to be a big year - both for myself and for this school - and I can't wait to be able to witness it all.

It would also be wrong to tell you that I'm not nervous. Something like this doesn't pass easily, but I've been told I'm a fighter. So we'll see how that works out.

At 6:30 am on Saturday morning, I stood at the waterfront with my closest friends, laughing and throwing rocks and generally being too loud for sunrise. We were all so tired and so stressed but so happy.

I know my friends will carry me through it all. And when they can't, I suppose my growing collection of books (I stress-buy a lot of my literature) will walk me through it. 

It's incredibly difficult to say goodbye to one year. Here's hoping that the next one will be just as great, if not better.

Anyways, here's something pretty.

Zebra

I haven't been writing things on the Internet in a while (count it - 20 or so days) but I promise to accomplish my triumphant return ... soon.

The name of the song above is Zebra. It's by a band called Beach House. I once had to write a review of their music and ended up listening to like four hours of them, repeating their discography over and over again. Sounds tend to meld together after awhile, and it suddenly just sounds like a lot of guitar picking and crooning. So, there's that.

Kingston decided to be a jerk and plop a lot of snow from the skies, just when we thought we were rid of Old Man Winter. Unfortunately, this means that I haven't been able to wear The Summer Dress as soon as I'd like. Even more tragic - patio season has been postponed.

I'm staying in this town this summer, and I can't hide how excited I am. It's going to be a summer of rooftop patios, eating charcuterie (yes, I plan my summers around processed foods), and a lot of journalism.

Tomorrow we're embarking on a journey to Toronto to visit a few newsrooms. I can't wait to stare into the abyss and have my future employers maybe stare back at me??

It's Late

For when you're exhausted and all you want to listen to are trumpets and maybe songbirds.

Sunshine and Keeping Time

I like that I can see blue outside of my window again. I'm sitting on the floor of my bedroom, barefoot on my yoga mat (weirdo) after my first attempt at the thing (sport? hobby?) in months. There's one of three large bottles of aloe juice next to me, which isn't the strangest thing to note if you knew me personally.

I finally got my new agenda in the mail. As it turns out, bookstores stop stocking these babies after a certain time in the year. In atypical fashion, I missed that one. In typical fashion, I screwed up writing my quote in one of the front pages.

I'm sure you can see where my writing needed some quick editing. 

I always put some sort of quote I like at the beginning of my agendas. It's really cheesy, and it reminds me of when I used to start every sordid teen journal entry with a song lyric, but still. The last one was about filling your twenties with craziness and trying new things. And that came (sort of) true, so maybe this one will too?

I hope so. It's really just more striking to me that my handwriting hasn't changed in like eons.

Body Marks

I've been thinking about tattoos for a long time, as anyone with the number 2 as the first digit in their age usually is. 

I'm surrounded by people with tattoos, it always seems, whether its a Latin inscription on their forearm or a Greek letter on the back of their neck. I don't think I'll ever want to cover myself in ink, just as the two piercings on my right ear will remain the only piercings I will ever get (besides my regular lobe ones, of course). 

The ampersand (&) is an interesting symbol, representing the word "and." As someone who obsessively writes things down, of course knowing this is second nature to me. I've had a love affair with words and letters for as long as I can remember, but this factoid has always stuck out.

I once read that the "&" is used to indicate when two items or bodies are closer together than if just using the word "and." I love that meaning, and that image of two seemingly arbitrary objects or people in closer union, just because of a simple loop of script. 

I was also once told that, before getting a tattoo, place the desired image where you'll see it everyday for a year. So if I'm still not sick of the following image on February 22, 2014, well, I guess I'll book myself an appointment with a tattoo artist.

Silence is Golden

It seems that I only blog when I'm (a) bored or (b) terribly, desperately seeking something to procrastinate with. Tonight is a combination of both, although it's leaning dangerously towards the latter. Let's blame that on how I was forced to change the channel from the Dark Knight trilogy marathon tonight.

Once in a while, I find something on the Internet that reminds me of whatever dreams baby-Janina once had. Did you know that I wanted to be a photographer at the age of 10? I've heard it said that every girl goes through a photography phase where all she takes are pictures of her feet (yes, that did indeed happen). Even then, I tend to stumble on staggeringly beautiful photos, taken by remarkably young women. Let's be glad that their dreams didn't die the minute their fancies were caught by different things. I sometimes I wished I persevered like that.

These self-portraits were taken by Budapest, Hungary-based photographer Noell S. Oszvald. Her minimalist style seems to extend to her Flickr photostream, as it only contains less than 30 photos. Thanks to my friend Tiffany for alerting my eyes to this on my lowly Facebook newsfeed. 

A Tattered Line of String

I had this six (Or seven? Or twelve?) month-long bender where all I would listen to was The Postal Service. I think I first heard of them (them being Ben Gibbard and Jimmy Tamborello) from a trailer of a movie or because I was really into Death Cab for Cutie at the time. My love affair with their first album Give Up has yet to end. Seriously.

Anyways. Here's their new song. I'm always conflicted when bands releasing new songs after such perfect ones. Am I supposed to accept a new sound? Is it okay if I kind of hate you now? Well. Let's see.

Snowpocalypse 2013

Today marked one of the biggest snowstorms in recent memory. Still recuperating from last night (thank you, my darling friends) I spent most of the day in bed, willing myself to not look outside.

But look outside I did. I even walked in it, if you can call slow trudging across snowbanks while almost getting hit by a car walking.

I'm staying in tonight, obviously. It's time to indulge in movies I've always wanted to watch but never had the time to.

Paperman

I started watching this video because I thought it was about a 1940s newspaperman, overburdened with work and an accent only known to mid-century newsrooms.

It's not, but it's still worth watching. The animation is a combination of traditional and computer techniques, which makes for an interesting way to re-envision this black and white minimalist style. Take look at Paperman. It's also been nominated for Best Animated Short at this year's Oscars.

Nighttime Sounds

s p r i n g coffins from sharms on 8tracks Radio.

On some nights, I forget that music even exists. I sit at my desk, reading or painting my nails or whatever, in total silence. Sometimes all I can hear is Fry (happy first birthday today, Fry!) scampering around downstairs.

When I get tired of silence, though, a playlist like this one is always a good call. If you like things that sound like they should only be played at night, well, welcome to your evening.

Minutes

Whenever I feel like I miss my pet cat Oreo (who's probably napping on my parents' bed right now), I watch this video. It's an old one but it always produces the same response - a good cry, followed by a lot of guilt*, followed by a relentless search for Fry to give him a very long hug.

I sometimes think that creatives cheap out by invoking pet-focused feelings in their audience, but in cases like this I think it's okay. That's mostly because it's so well-produced. Besides that, it's fine to feel something sometimes, isn't it?

Last Minutes with ODEN from Eliot Rausch on Vimeo.

*We used to have two cats: Oreo and Tiger. One night in the summer after first year, I came home at around 11 pm. Tiger was sitting in front of the screen door leading to our backyard. I still don't know why I did this, but I slid open that screen door and she ran out. We couldn't find her, partially because it was dark and partially because, like most cats, she's a fast runner. It was two days later that we found out that the Humane Society took her in. A neighbour accidentally moved their car with her beneath it. She had a broken hip and, after speaking to my family, she was put down. It's weird when I think that I was the last person in my family to stand beside her. 

In Anticipation

Photo by Tiffany Lam (The Queen's Journal)

This is late, but here's my article about Robert J. Reid & Sons funeral home in Kingston, Ontario. 

This was one of those stories where, after spending two hours in an interview, I faced a lot of difficulty picking the best anecdotes to put in the article. Funeral directors really are some of the most interesting people.

There are so many stories that I could tell from this small encounter. I could tell you about the ways they mold the decedents before the wake, or how there's an unsaid bond between funeral directors when it comes to burying family or close friends. 

It's not about the stories I know, though. It's about the ones that I didn't hear. There's still so much to learn about people, even after I end an interview.

Chicken Jerk

I've been alternating between speeding between buildings in the -23 degree weather and writing words I don't understand on a page I can barely see with my failing vision. Had two weird freakouts this week: 1. From not having an agenda to properly write my daily to-do list in, and 2. From forgetting to eat things yesterday, due to being busy and generally being a failure at taking care of myself.

It's okay though. I had bacon pasta today and I'm rather excited about my article about the funeral home business. Check it out on Friday.

Also, follow the AMS elections here. You'd be silly not to pay attention.

Here's the result of Dan's attempts to make (incredibly delicious!) jerk chicken, as frantically directed by me via email (although you can find the recipe pretty much anywhere on the Internet). 

Pretty much, this was just me taking advantage of his post-Disney World and post-Florida cravings. I'm a terrible person who just eats everyone's food.

Also, here's a video of Eddie Redmayne. I, too, agree with what he says about Glengarry Glen Ross. Seriously. What a great play/movie/script.

The Triumph of the Dinosaurs

This book has been sitting on the family bookshelf for the past twelve years or so. I say this because all important things in my childhood happened when I was nine, because I can't remember the other years or because the number nine is just a really convenient number to remember.

I wasn't one of those fiendish children who became fascinated with dinosaurs because they were large, roaring creatures with scaly hides and a propensity to be ferocious. I didn't marvel at what they were because they had been "terrifying lizards." 

I was attracted to their mystery. There was the allure. They roamed the land, occupying it with such dominance not unlike today's human beings, and suddenly, with an asteroid collision or whatever, they were gone. Nothing left but fossilized skeletons to leave us questioning what colours they were, what they sounded like, how they simply behaved. 

It's scary, isn't it. How vulnerable anything can be to fall, particularly after such a meteoric rise. I wonder, sometimes, if there were entire populations and civilizations that rose and fell, now without a trace.

I think that's why I still love to roam museums and why I am comfortable with the idea of taxidermy. I like the idea of being able to observe the static remnants of something that was once so dynamic and full of life. That's why I love period pieces and why I'm excited to bring this book back to Kingston with me tomorrow.