"For I have slipped the surly bonds of earth..."

November 11th is Remembrence Day, here in Canada, so that was- nice? One of the awkward things about facebook is how everyone jumps onto bandwagons, particularly about holidays. Even when I wholeheartedly believe in the status of a holiday, it seems like everyone is trying to one-up the other with profile pics and quotes? Which just strikes me as odd, when the holiday is about something like remembering, which is not necessarily done with trumpets and bells. Which is to say that if you saw me on FB, it probably looks like I didn't remember. But I did! :D

I am lucky enough to have had four generations of my family in the Canadian Military, and they've all come home. I have two cousins in active service, and two of my childhood friends just joined the US Army and the US Marines. Plus the many many family friends who are on active service.

So I remember.

And even though the introvert in me is a little weirded out by the loud remembering, it's still good to see online, and to see the crowds who turn out to the wreath laying ceremony. Makes me proud of my country/friends/town, and family. :D

"If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe."

I found this video today, and it delights me. It reminded me how the world, and how the world is constructed, is truly amazing. I'm pretty sure that the people quoted did not mean it in a theistic way, but I'm DIFFERENT, okay? :D

Quotes from Carl Sagan and Stephen Hawking, auto-tuned and toyed with.
(Also, you can do amazing things with language and the description of the world, eh?)

Also, I went to the library for a write-in! This time the internet kicked me off, so I got almost a thousand words written. Which is a thousand words more than I had yesterday! :D

Additionally, St Thomas gave me the gift of not accepting my credits, so that they are are not the clear leader in the university search. So now I get to play CHOOSE THE SCHOOL this weekend, which is a game we all love to play. ^_^

I hope your day was full of things to be happy about!

I am the Everyman.

Today I had one of those moments, that I'm sure we are all totally familiar with, where you look at the website of your chosen university, and you notice that half of the students are boys. This, of course, is when gentle fingers of terror close around your heart, and you develop a strong desire to crawl into your drop-safe and disappear.

Also, a 59 year old man asked me out on a date. Or more specially, to "share a box of chicken some night." he then mentioned marriage, and I said all my evenings were full.

So yes, my life continues to be perfectly normal.

The adventures in funding continue...

Right, so, I kind have no way to ease into this, and limited time. So I'll just dive right into the heart of the matter and say that I've been thinking about WHY I'm going to school. Obviously edification of my mind is right up there, but at some point you have to turn the learning time into a job.

So with the information that is available to me right now, it looks like there are three job options once I'm done with my BA.

1. Go on, stay in school, write and teach. 
1. I'd probably be writing more in terms of research than in terms of fiction, but I think I'd like this option. I like teaching (I think maybe?) and I definitely am fond of school.
2. This is the option I know least about, more research is required
2. Write Fiction.
1. Not a high-income life, and not something I can get a job in right out of school. There would have to be some lean years in there while I work on my craft. But I love writing, and people tell me I'm good at it. 
2. Am I good enough to publish, and take the many many rejections that come with this job? Really, only time will tell.
3. Join the Military.
1. Despite my lifelong fascination with the Military, I'd never really thought I could make it in that job. Then, like a lightening strike, we (my family) realized that I wouldn't have to be an infantry officer to join the forces. Because to be honest, I do not think that is where my strength lie. But there are other jobs, and a few of them sound really, really, REALLY interesting. Plus I wouldn't have to worry about money OR wardrobe any more. *beams at everyone*
2. I'm not exactly sure if my strong interests and talents do fit into the jobs that I find interesting. More research required as to what I like to study.

So where am I? These jobs all sound interesting, but they all have one thing in common. 

I really can't decide yet. :P

Especially with the military, I am truly between two minds in a way I rarely am. I look at the job, and then I look at it again, and then I see the part about sports training, and then I see the part about leadership, and then I see... it goes on and on. *head implodes*

Therefore it seems the most prudent thing to do would be to go to school under my OWN steam, (weak cheer,) and after I know what I like in that field, and how good I am at it, I reevaluate. ^_^ 

I look forward to the news that renders this post entirely invalid the moment I post it, as news has a habit of doing.

State of the me: University updates

SO. I'm going to school. At least that's the plan. But you see, going to good universities in other provinces has a nasty habit of costing money. So right now my status is setting out on the great traditional money hunt. (Or panicking over the money hunt, but shush, don't burst my bubble.)

In the hunt, I've found these options, which I am now weighing and panicking over. As one does.

Scholarships/Endowments: Sometimes people give you money to go to school!

• Pros: You don't have to give the money back! w00t!
• Cons: You have to have things like grades and leadership ability and extra-curricular things to show them, or fiscal need. I have the fiscal need, but not so much the others. Plus, they're on the September-start calendar, which means I can't get them before January. Eeshh.
• Verdict: Look into it, but don't expect lots of free money.

Government Loans: Sometimes the government will lend you money to go to school!

• Pros: It's a well-established process. And there's money on the other end. 
• Cons: Just- it's the government. They have a habit of taking the money away. Plus they make you jump through hoops a lot. As I've technically been working part-time for the past two years. I'm not even sure if I'm eligible.
• Verdict: Only one way to find out if I'm eligible. 

Bank Loan: The banks LOVE to lend you money.

• Pros: It builds your credit, you only pay interest on the part you use, and it's definitely available. 
• Cons: I'm not sure if I have enough credit for one on my own, I may need a counter-signatory. 
• Verdict: A solid option. But try for free money first

Work: I can make the darn money myself first, then start in September. Like an effing ADULT.

• Pros: No debt! Pride and satisfaction!
• Cons: I wouldn't be able to start for another 10 months. The fact that this makes me want to swear a lot, probably isn't a great sign. Plus I'm not sure if it would be at ALL good for my mental health.
• Verdict: If all other options fall through, God wants me to do this. Like an ADULT. And it's a good option. I just don't like it.

Military: The military will pay you to go to school! And pay for your school! And give you a job after!

• Pros: I would get in shape. I would learn when and how to use deadly weapons. I would learn when and how not to cry. (Always assuming I survive basic training, and they want me.) I would have a job. I would learn French. I would have SO MUCH writing research. And yes, given that I always seem to want to write military-related stories, and I'm very nervous about botching that, research is something I care about. I'd have to learn leadership skills, like how not to verbally abuse people you're in charge of, how to stay in charge while letting people who actually know what they're talking about talk, and how to not get everyone killed. Which are great things to know, I'm not gonna lie.
• Cons: They might want me to go to RMC instead of St. Thomas. I'd get in shape. Basically it's not a funding choice so much as a life move, and I'm not sure if I want this move. I'd have to give up writing while learning french, deadly weapons, how not to die while running, and other life skills. I'm really not sure if I can make it. It's a seven year commitment, so I'd be 30 when I was out. 
• Verdict: Undecided. Maybe people give me money without my life, first?

Publish a short story/Novel: Sometimes people give you MONEY for writing!

• Pros: OMG PUBLISHED? EEEEEEEEEE??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????????!!!!!!!!!!
• Cons: I don't have anything ready to publish. It needs more work. Serious work. And I've never heard anyone in the business speak of publishing as a very "fast money" type option.
• Verdict: Who am I kidding, I'm going for this anyhow.

So yes, that's the state of the me. ^_^

These are your emotions talking. Why are we on a roller coaster?

So, today, I checked my email two minutes before I had to go to work. I do this, because I never get emails two minutes before I go to work. But it makes me feel useful and aware of things that are happening on the internet.

Today I got an email two minutes before I went to work. I saw that it was titled "residence," and I went "huh?" And then I read it, and it informed me that a residence room had been reserved for me at my top choice university, please to send monies.

This is when I panicked on the internet at Moon Unit. She reminded me gently that I had to go to work, and do the hyperventilating while walking. SO I DID. And I managed to convince myself that the university residence office wasn't talking to the admissions office. Since I'd applied in a separate application to either office, clearly the right hand wasn't talking to the left hand.

That's about when I got myself down to sanguinity again. *plods home for lunch* AND OH LOOK THERE ARE PARENTS AND THEY HAVE A PACKAGE FOR ME I LOVE PACKAGES THIS ONE IS FROM A UNIVERSITY THAT LOOKS EXCITING OH MY IT HAS A FOLDER WITH A BOOK AND A LETTER IN IT AND IT SAYS "CONGRATULATION AND WELCOME TO OUR COMMUNITY." This is when the hugging and jumping about started.

And then they wanted it read aloud. That's when I noticed that it was addressed to John McDonald.

I may not have explicitly mentioned my name on this blog, but I can assure you that it does not begin with John, and neither does it end with McDonald. That's about when I looked at my lunch, and saw that it was a burned grilled cheese and lumpy cream of mushroom soup. Which seemed appropriate. *slurches about the lunch table* *eats one corner of the black sandwich*

And THEN- oh yes, internets, this story goes ON- I gave up on eating and called the admissions office.

Have a paraphrase of the conversation.
Me: "Oh hai, university which I dearly want to get into. I got this letter today, it kinda thinks I'm a guy. What's up with that?"
Uni: "Oh yes, he got the letter today, saying he's a woman, and he doesn't agree with that either, so we're sending out new packages today. Lolz."
Me: "So- I'm in?"
Uni: "No, of course not. JAY KAY you're totes accepted. We want your brain."
Me: "!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

So I went back to work, where I was utterly useless all day, due to a tendency to skip about in high heels, and read the glossary of my university calendar.

P.S. The soup and sandwich were delicious.

An adventurous time in the life.

In the past three years, I've developed the practice of out-sourcing my memory to my blog. So when I saw a contest where to enter I had to write about an adventure I'd had, I thought "Oh, I'll just go through my blog archives!" And then I realized that didn't really fulfill the spirit of the contest. So I sat down and thought seriously about all the adventures I've experienced I haven't documented here. This is when I realized the downfall of our-sourcing, which is that I came up with a blank. "Adventures? Me? Try next door."

So I realized if I wanted to be be entered for the ARC on Beth Revis's website, I needed to go old school. I think this is the fourth (?) contest I've entered for the book. What can I say? I like mystery and SF and YA. *beams*

Old school adventure. Have at you.

Now I have issues with memory, aside from the out-soursing issue previously mentioned. Because when I think of my past, I am always an adult. It's only when connecting places in my memory to what I know of my personal timeline that I can actually figure out how old I am. You'd think I'd be able to use the traditional "I couldn't see over the table, therefore I must be small," method, but no. Apparently I just decided at one time that tables and chairs were at inconvenient heights, and got over it. Thankfully we moved a lot in my early childhood, so I can pretty much match houses to years of my life.

When I was eight we lived in tents in an old church that we were renovating. I spent a lot of time getting absolutely filthy in the old dock across the street. When I was seven we lived in part of a row house, where we were the envy of the neighbour kids because we had a fence and a tree. I was not quite as enraptured with the tree, because I discovered reading at this age. When I was five, and part of being six, we lived in a tall rowhouse in Florida, but we dwelled chiefly on the beach. There were hermit crabs and you had to be careful not to step on manta rays. When I was five we lived in a row house, and I got to help with the cooking. AS IS RIGHT when one is an adult. When I was four we lived in an apartment in Germany. There were a million steps up to the top where we lived, and you could see a million miles if you stood on the counter and looked out the window.

I hope you're lucky enough to remember being four. Four is an awesome age. You're small and cute enough to get away with just about anything, which is great, because the world is an adventure to be attacked with both fists. Everything is both utterly magical, and easily accepted, at four. I saw that the swing at the park was an alligator, found this to be delightful, and then found caterpillars in the sand to be equally delightful. (Honestly! It was this massive alligator that you rode, and you had to get about five kids working together to really get it going. Best swing ever.)

I think, frankly, we were in an especially wonderful place to be four. There were vending machines at the market that you put a quarter in, and they gave you little TINY cars with wheels that spun. And when we went to the park, we could play on the aforementioned alligator swing, or the massive teeter totters that threw you as high as the trees, or eat pretzels the size of our heads, or poke caterpillars around the edges of the vast tractor tires that made the edges of the sandbox. And then of course, there were those minuscule details, the castles that we picnicked in. I would like to submit that when you are four, exploring consists chiefly of finding every patch of stinging nettles and falling into them. I can find nettles by scent, now.

But there were also adventures that probably would have happened wherever I was, like my discovery of slugs. We were camping, and my little brother had to tell me about these snails that had lost their shells. They were orange. They were the length of my hand, and then some. I almost fell into the stream from sheer fascination affecting gravity and pulling me sideways. Have you ever really looked at slugs? I mean, really? They're all spotted and wrinkled, and they wave their eyes around, all arrogant. Plus they have like six eyes. As a glasses-wearing girl, I have to respect that.

And then there was the adventure I've been leading up to, which is highly anticlimactic, really. It happened because I was eavesdropping on my mother's conversation with her friends, as one does. What, you mean you're supposed to play, at age four? No, I eavesdropped and watched the ants climb the side of the building where I spilled my juice the other day. Hush you. And it came out in the course of the conversation, that a poor boy had stuck his tongue to a metal pole when it had frosted, and this appendage had gotten permanently stuck. They had to get it off with boiling water.

Well, you remember being four, don't you? You don't believe anything that's told to you when you're four! Even if it wasn't exactly said TO you.

It frosted the next day, and with great anticipation I demanded we go to the park, where there was a metal mesh cage. I figured this would work well for the test. So I climbed up to the top of the play centre, and promptly licked the mesh. Nothing happened. I even bit it, with no effect. There exists a sulky picture of me with my face pressed into the mesh, though I don't think anyone knows that I had just conduced a scientific experiment, and found it to FAIL.

So then several years later, when it was blizzarding out, I told my brother that nothing would happen if he licked that metal laundry pole. The laundry pole was not, as the playground mesh had been, coated in plastic. My brother left part of his tongue on the laundry pole, and then I turned up with a black eye at church, which I was only to ready to tell anyone who asked was caused by my brother and I getting into a water gun fight. In January. (Frozen water guns make GOOD weapons for hand-to-hand combat.)

This is not an optimally laid-out post. :D But there you have it, my rambly scientific adventure at age 4, (and 6.) Now I can be entered into the contest! (Btw, there are many lovely adventures mentioned in the comments, it is fun to check them out.)