Later on, back at the bat cave...

[said in kung-fu-type, dubbed accent]:

Aha! Shitty day...no match foh bellydancing, Great Big Sea, and touch of Crown. Hm.

Do you ever...

seem to come up against every glitch possible so you want to call it a day (or a year!), go home, and hide under the covers with chocolate and hard liquor?

tandem

In preparation for the trip to Brazil, we're taking part in "tandem language learning"--Brazilian students learning English communicate with us in English for a set period of time and then we reciprocate while communicating in Portuguese.

A friend from Detroit visited today and we spent some time at the Kildare House, drove around to find a specific type of Hindu temple (which Windsor does not seem to have), and remarked on the desks that we've exchanged (she gave me an antique-ish one that will need some TLC (no, not T-Boz) and I gave her a relatively new one that is easily dismantled and moved).

I'm awaiting an offer of employment at a university on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean (or Pacific, I s'pose, depending which way you fly ;> ) and, today, I spoke with my 95-ish yr. old grandmother ("sit'ty" in Arabic) who lives 1.5 hrs. from that university.

After dropping a friend off at Detroit Metro Airport on Sunday morning (around 4am), I came home along Riverside Dr. and witnessed perfect stillness on the Detroit River--perfect for rowing, that is. The water was like glass and the conditions were ideal even for a single sculling shell. The river that divides nations was calm and inviting as though it was awaiting someone to disturb the peace.

These seemingly disparate moments are linked by one thing: borders/divisions/contact zones. Regardless what side of that "line" you're living on, it seems that everyday life is similar. People go to work and to school. They shop, sleep, eat, live. They try to have relationships and experience broken hearts and wonderful adventures...

What's my point, you ask? I'm not really sure. I just find it interesting that we're all linked in some way but sometimes we forget that. We forget that we're all people just living our lives in the ways that we know how.

Maybe there's a moral here: When the grass seems greener on the other side, just remember that it's on the other side, yes, but it's still grass. Still green. And, quite likely, it's the exact same grass that you're unhappy with on your own side--it just looks a little different from over here.

my kayak, my self

After spending the day learning to maneuvre a kayak, my energy is zapped. It feels great!

I realize now what they mean when they say, "You don't ride your kayak. You wear it." It's true. That piece of fibre glass or plastic becomes an appendage, something you can control with subtle movements to get where you're going. I might even learn to do an eskimo roll someday.

And, of course, now I have to save up so I can buy a boat of my own (with a paddle tether and a "boob-friendly" PFD--they can hurt a little, or so I discovered).

Next stop: Level V rapids and dry suits! Or, maybe just the marsh at Point Pelee. ;>

Kiyoshi Nagata

One would think that there isn't a lot of physical work involved with hitting a drum. You hit it. You use some arm muscles, shoulders, maybe your back. The 4 women and 2 men that performed last night proved my idea completely wrong.

I have never seen anything so heart-pounding. I could feel the beats in my body. From doing the splits and using all of one's body to hit, to pounding so hard where the audience can see every single muscle in that moving body, to an unimaginable amount of dexterity, it was exhausting just watching these folks do their thing.

Stunning. Really. There aren't enough superlatives to explain.

Kiyoshi Nagata Ensemble...if they come to a venue near you, DEFINITELY go.

hair

Girls may understand this. Guys, I'm not so sure.

I usually keep my hair pulled back--for teaching, working out, dance practice, etc. but tonight, after a relaxing shower to wash away the day, instead of pulling it back I'm letting it air dry. It seems like it's grown about three inches almost overnight--I can feel the dampness on the middle of my back. I never noticed it was getting so long (and yes, I do shower regularly, I just usually pull it back after).

Interesting, no? Maybe if I learn to let my hair down more often, I'd notice the subtle changes happening all around me. And, just maybe, I'd find that happy relaxation that I've been seeking recently (see that "plans-ish" post).

To H: My sympathy for the recent difficulty with your own lovely tresses.

endorphins

Nothing like the smell of freshly cut grass as you walk (briskly, almost jogging) along the river while the sun is setting and you're simultaneously releasing any stress you've felt before that moment.

Nothing like the feeling of satisfaction when you're giving a lecture, students are responding (nodding, mostly), and then they brighten up during the discussion when they realize that they get what you're saying about Elizabeth Gaskell and ecocriticism (specifically, deep ecology) and you realize that what you're saying is connecting in their heads. This is so totally what you're supposed to be doing with your life!

Nothing like that complete relaxation you feel when you've been doing work all day, you're tired, and you pull back the covers (if, in fact, you've made the bed) and slip into your queen-sized, pillow-top bed with red cotton-sateen sheets.

Nothing like the smell of napalm in the morning... (can't forget that one: "Thanks Apocalypse Now")

And, especially for E. and Detroit R.: Nothing like that moment of realization when you've just released the ball down the lane, your tri-coloured 1965 laced-up shoes slide gently on the floor, and you just know that that ball is headed for a strike.

procrastinating fun!

This is NOT an exercise in putting off having fun. No, no, no. This will get you to think about the people in your life at this very moment and it's a fun way to procrastinate. I will not reveal my answers BUT I urge (almost plead for) you to post yours... ;>

Whatever you do, don't cheat!

Follow the instructions and DON'T CHEAT--you'll ruin the fun if you do!
It takes about 2 mins.

1) Get a pen and paper.
2) When choosing names, be sure you actually know them.
3) Go with your first instincts! (Very important for good results)
4) Scroll down one line at a time--do NOT read ahead.

Here we go:

1) Write the numbers 1 through 11 in a column on the left side of the paper.

2) Next to #1 and #2, write down any two numbers you want.

3) Next to #3 and #7, write the names of two members of the opposite sex.

4) Next to #4, #5, and #6, write anyone's name (friends, family, etc.)

5) Next to #8, #9, #10, and #11, write down four song titles.

And finally...make a wish! Not sure if it'll come true but it's worth a try!


The Results:

The number of people who like you is found in space #2.

The person listed in space #3 is the one you LOVE.

In space #7 is the person you like but your relationship cannot work.

You care most about the person in space #4.

Space #5 is the person who knows you very well.

Space #6 indicates your lucky star.

The song in #8 matches with the person in #3.

The song in #9 is for the person in #7.

Song title #10 describes your mind.

Song title #11 represents how you feel about life.

Wasn't that fun?! Okay, now back to work.

sunset

This was the view on my way home this evening...

Happy Victoria Day!

No joke, it's a real, national holiday. Apparently, Canada is the only country to officially recognize Queen Victoria's bday. Every year oodles of us collect in backyards and campgrounds across the great expanse that is our country, and we pay homage to Queen Vick with two-fours (cases of 24 beers) or kegs, various BBQ'd delicacies, and fireworks. Gotta love it! Actually, I don't think anyone really cares that "May two-four" weekend (ie: May 24th) is in hono(u)r of a long-dead Queen--they just wanna hang out and have a day off of work.

So I ask you: If a holiday bears your name, shouldn't you have the day off regardless of what side of the border you work on? Mo' fo' wants a break! ;>

p.s: I also found out that Queen V. was quite the party-girl back in the day (before she got all stuffy and uptight). Maybe years of partying were just too much for her. When you think about it, we're not that far off with our relentless celebrations, eh? Cheers!

warm fuzzies

Am I psycho? I got warm fuzzies when I saw my blog listed on someone else's blog.

What can I say? I thought it was sweet. Endearingly sweet, in fact.

And yes, "endearing" is my new favo(u)rite word. ;>

plans-ish*

Sometimes your plans change at the very last minute.** What you expected to do isn't what you end up doing but you make new friends (Yes, California Rob, you're now in my "friend base" so suck it up!), discover a new bar (new to me, at least), and learn that the tunnel fare is astronomical compared with the bridge.

So, I've decided to try an experiment:***

Background: I usually make solid plans well in advance so I know what I'm doing and how to divide my time during any given day. Rarely does that work b/c other obligations always come up (or I'm just not in the mood) and it certainly doesn't make me any happier.

Hypothesis: If I reduce the number of actual, solid plans I make in advance and allow myself more freedom to do what I feel at any given time, then I'll be more relaxed and happy.

Apparatus: One day-planner (there are some obligations like teaching, appointments, etc. that I can't change), one cell phone (for those impromptu opportunities of fun and fellowship), and countless understanding friends who will permit me the indulgence of making fewer plans.

Method: For about a month (note the non-planned duration of this experiment) I will keep the plans I've already made like teaching (and Marty, we're still set for the Japanese drumming on Friday!). However, for new events, I will hope that I'll still be invited (a few things are in the works at the moment) and when prompted for the official R.S.V.P., I will say something like, "Thank you so much for the invitation. I would love to go but I will see how I feel that day. You are a good friend and I hope to see you that night but if I don't, I hope we can go out another time together."****

So, dear friends, please bear with me as I try to lead a more relaxed life. I have enough obligatory crap that I MUST do (pesky prospectus!) that I don't want to start feeling like social events are "obligations"--the things that are solid like Celtic Festival and weddings, etc. will certainly remain but I'm trying to be more flexible in other areas.

Conclusions: I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Footnotes:
* Thanks to California Rob for the "circa" joke. It's a keeper.

** I apologize that Miss J. was the recipient of such changed plans last night. It was unintentional but I've now figured out how to articulate what happened and hope (with all my heart) that she is not overly pissed off at me.

*** I tried to outline this experiment like we used to in Inorganic Geochemistry at U. Windsor.

**** I thank Miss H. for the suggestion of dialogue.

DTW to LGA

The NY adventure was phenomenal!

Touched down at LaGuardia--grayish day but full of possibility.

Happened to walk through Columbia University's convocation ceremony just as the President of the univ. was addressing the graduates.

Found the best pair of shoes EVER that required an extra walk from the Upper West Side down to the Lower West Side and up near Harlem (didn't have a map but found my way around just fine--three hours later I found a "Nacho Colada" at a restaurant and drank my way to the rummy bottom).

...And now for the interview:

1) Met with the VP of Academic Affairs for the university.
2) Joked about Arab culture and made puns with the language.
3) He called me an ex-patriot and was hopeful that he could "bring a daughter home" to Lebanon (seemed like a good sign, I'd say)--I swear, it was like hanging out with my dad.

The university is hoping to change a few of their policies and programs--the stuff they "hope" to do are the things that I could totally deliver and the things that I would LOVE to be involved with from the beginning.

The VP also said that, all other things being equal, I had three advantages above other candidates:

1) I have dual citizenship (helps b/c I don't need a work permit, I know the culture, etc.)
2) I'm a woman (they're trying to increase the number of women on faculty)
3) I'm "eclectic" (my work has been varied, I'm young and have new ideas, and I could encourage the other faculty to continue their multi-cultural/interdisciplinary slant).

Conclusion: I could not have created a better interview if I designed it myself! Such a great experience. He said I could expect to hear from them by mid-June. Now I just have to wait for the numbers and contract details...fingers are crossed that it works out well!

Oh, and he loved my Arabic accent--said it was "mazbout" (good/solid). I told him it was a Beqa'a accent (South Central Lebanon)--we're homies now. It was funny, believe me. We both lol'd... ;>

If this works out, everyone's welcome to visit. Beirut has much more to offer than you'd think. More cosmopolitan, modern, and energetic than it seems on the news (trust me). And, the best part: the American dollar is ALWAYS worth more: 1000 L.L. = $1.50 US

revealed

One blog post can change everything.

Ahoy!

Oi, Renuka e Cara! Meus amadas! Nos indomos para Sao Paolo! In my broken Portuguese, that should say, "Hey, Renuka and Cara! My dears! We're going to Sao Paolo!" Got some kick-ass news yesterday--our panel was accepted for a conference in Brazil. It'll be a nice ending to our month-long adventure. Woohoo!! Nos estamos muito legal, mocas!

And onto last night: Marty and I hit The Keg (no one was hurt--sorry, couldn't resist) and sat in their muito swanky bar, had some martinis (try the Clear Peach) and nibblies. It seems that the 30-and-up crowd in Windsor huddles by Riverside on Saturday nights--who knew? A walk down Ouellette around midnight revealed our 19-year-old selves standing in lines outside of the bars-of-the-moment in much too little clothing, clinging to our new-found amours, and hoping that the buzz would stay until we got in. Good times.

Freighters were hangin' out too. Or had they run aground, as Marty insists? We had a rather confusing, martini-induced debate about whether the freighters were dumping water to become more buoyant or not. Two possibilities:

1) When a freighter has water in the hull (and air, obviously) it allows it to displace more of the river water and therefore rides higher.

2) Water in the hull makes a freighter sink and so, yes, they had run aground.

Anyone know the real answer? I won't tell whose idea is whose.
Morons must protect their identities.

Still breathing...and not so bated

It's the end of the day. Well, at least the working part of it. I've done more than enough blog checking (and re-checking), typing, and phone calling to admin. folks for one day. Technically, I should do what any self-respecting graduate student does and keep working 24-7. Does anyone really do that?

I am mentally exhausted, emotionally taxed, and physically withered. I need to grab a snack, gather my piles and piles o' paper, and be on my merry way across that big, teal, steel structure to my little oasis in the Great White North (actually, it's south, but I digress). And no, there will be "nao portuges para meu" today--"ate amanha!" Maybe a couple of hours of forced un-thinking will do the trick. At least I'm hoping so.

The cross-border saga continues and, hopefully, will be finished tomorrow (until the next installment of it which will happen around mid-June). The course prep. is halfway there (only one syllabus to go), and the NYC adventure is quickly approaching--need to prepare for that too.

Can't wait for grilled (or broiled) nibblies, bellydancing, and the sounds of a live band. Ahhh...I can taste the enjoyment already!

With bated breath...

I'm already at school--unusual, especially for this time of year--with the intention of straightening out every crinkle of this visa status issue. Got up at 5:30am b/c I couldn't sleep--too many things festering in the mind, I s'pose (and Cabot was hacking up a hairball). Ah well, once today is over and I've been as productive as a hive of hornets (not sure if that's a good simile--not overly creative this morning) I plan to enjoy the grilled feast created by one, Miss Hilly, of southwest Detroit, followed by some tasty elixirs at a club. Here's to hopin' that this Friday will be as awesome as last Friday.

One last thought: If a malfunctioning cell phone rings, no one is there to answer it, and you leave a message, does it make a sound? :P

A.A. to the third power

Tumultuous day involving inept academic administration (A.A. 1), cross-border visa issues that forced me to deal with American assholes (A.A. 2), frustration with those who can't seem to give straight answers to direct and succinct questions, and exhaustion when I realize that it's not going to end quickly even though I'm on a very strict and specific timeline.

The solution? Mindless TV-watching and a tall gin 'n' tonic (which may, technically, eventually require A.A. 3--the real A.A.)--anyone want to be a drinking buddy? :/

stupendous

One phone call can change everything.

A.A.

American Adventures, that is. Yet another impromptu journey across the border. I'm starting to like these outings...keeps things interesting and helps me procrastinate. Or maybe they just encourage me to enjoy the day for the day. Regardless, starting with Mozart's Requiem in Ann Arbor and ending with visits to Walgreen's, Taylor Cafe, and Meijer (x2) seems like a perfect day that I'd never expect to be perfect. I s'pose it helps that I was with a good friend (or that I could get Almond Joy). And I bought a hat that, apparently, makes me look British--anyone know where I could find a good polo match?

cinco de maio

I love those evenings where you have minor plans and expect to be home by 10pm then a phone call comes in and POOF, it's 4:38am and you're recounting one of the best nights ever: you find a nook where they're playing hot jazz like they did in the 1940s and discover that the keyboard player is from Windsor, then you mosey to a nearby bar and learn that the band is called "Fifty Amp Fusion" and the guitar player's name is "Remy," only to end the evening with "a single with everything and chili cheese fries" at Lafayette Coney (and a visit to their prison-locked bathroom). Nothing beats Detroit on a Friday night. Thanks, Joy.

One small step...

So I've been debating whether to really get into this blogging thing or not (excuse the split infinitive, English majors). It's kinda weird to think that anyone could read what I'm thinking and that it might reveal more about me than I'd like. Mysteriousness in a woman is good, right? Whatever. Sometimes a private musing or hidden journal just doesn't cut it when it comes to venting, thinking, processing, and/or expressing. The conclusion? I'll try it out. I'll open up a little and see what happens--nothing ventured, nothing gained, eh?