Last Christmas my dad decided that he had too much stuff, so for his presents he asked for experiences rather than his usual request for socks and electronics. My mom was already getting him season tickets to a theatre and my brother was taking him out for lunch, so I had to come up with an original idea and decided to get him tickets to the symphony. There were four tickets, so I figured I would go with him once and the second time he could go with my mom.
Unfortunately for me, my mom said she had no interest in going to the symphony, so now I get to go to the symphony twice. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love classical music, but if I’m going to listen to any type of music I would much prefer dancing to it over just sitting. Luckily for me, my father decided to pick the “pop” series of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra’s performances. The first one, that we’ve already attended, was A Century of Broadway. This was fantastic because I could easily recognize various tunes and they had two amazing singers, so it was much more entertaining than if it had been just the music. Another really interesting aspect of the performance was that the singers gave us a mini history lesson of how each of the songs influences Broadway music and why they were chosen. It was really interesting to see how Broadway musicals and music styles had evolved over the last century and they did an amazing job of singing and playing in such a wide variety of styles.
One thing that really struck me as different from a concert setting was how everyone just sat quietly appreciating the music. Music is just such a wonderful way to express your passion and portray emotions, that I can’t understand why people just sit and listen to it. I suppose, not everyone feels music through dancing and movement. I could feel the people around me taking in the story the music was telling them. They just absorbed it and processed it in their mind, where I would have had to express it in some way. I think that’s a really neat skill to have. To be able to almost meditate on the emotions instead of having to express them through song or dance or art or tears. I think I would like to be able to be completely still and be one with the music. I think I may have to try it out at the next symphony. Although A Night At the Cotton Club might not be the best situation for serenity.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Tolerance
I've been thinking a lot about tolerance this week. I'm not sure that I've come to any conclusions, but it's the thought that counts.
There are two people in my life that frequently make, in one case, racist and, in the other case, homophobic comments. Now, in the '90s it seemed like everyone just pretended that people's differences didn't exsist, whereas now it's alright (to a certain extent) to poke fun at natural variation as long as all variations are mocked equally. So, at first I assumed the candidness of their words to be this natural progression between extremes.
I was wrong. I've now come to realize that they're just racist and homophobic. The thing is that I still don't think they are bad people. I disagree with what they say, of course, and their words make me very uncomfortable, but I've come to know them before I learned of their beliefs. In my mind they are just ignorant and perhaps I can help them overcome this, but in the interm what do I do?
When I commented to a mutual friend that the homophobe's comments were upsetting me, she said that they should be more careful voicing their opinions in such a public environment, but that they had the right to these opinions none-the-less. I suppose that's what really got me thinking becuase my immediate reaction was that they don't have the right to these opinions. But that's just me being intolerant of their intolerancem and doesn't that make me a hypocrite.
I suppose this is the exact debate surrounding free speech. It is free up until a certain point. Up until people get hurt. But people are so diverse in their opinions that someone's bound to get hurt at nearly every point. So, where do you draw the line? Or should there even be a line at all? Instinct tells me there should be a line, but those are the instincts of someone firmly on the socially acceptable side of that line...
I talked about this with another friend and she said that it doesn't really matter if there are the so called "backwards" thinkers in our society because they will become less backward as the whole society progresses. Theoretically, I can see how that would be the case, but in practice it feels as though we've reached a divergent point. We may have all progressed together up until a certain state and now we're dividing into different groups of extremists with no hope of a middle ground. I suppose that this is an impossible claim for me to make since I never lived at a time where women were burned at the stake for strange behaviour.
In conclusion, there is none. Maybe I should be open minded to people's intolerances or maybe I should call them on it and have them question their beliefs. Either way I feel as though my natural instinct to shun their behaviour or angrily retort solves nothing and just portrays my own bias and intolerance...
There are two people in my life that frequently make, in one case, racist and, in the other case, homophobic comments. Now, in the '90s it seemed like everyone just pretended that people's differences didn't exsist, whereas now it's alright (to a certain extent) to poke fun at natural variation as long as all variations are mocked equally. So, at first I assumed the candidness of their words to be this natural progression between extremes.
I was wrong. I've now come to realize that they're just racist and homophobic. The thing is that I still don't think they are bad people. I disagree with what they say, of course, and their words make me very uncomfortable, but I've come to know them before I learned of their beliefs. In my mind they are just ignorant and perhaps I can help them overcome this, but in the interm what do I do?
When I commented to a mutual friend that the homophobe's comments were upsetting me, she said that they should be more careful voicing their opinions in such a public environment, but that they had the right to these opinions none-the-less. I suppose that's what really got me thinking becuase my immediate reaction was that they don't have the right to these opinions. But that's just me being intolerant of their intolerancem and doesn't that make me a hypocrite.
I suppose this is the exact debate surrounding free speech. It is free up until a certain point. Up until people get hurt. But people are so diverse in their opinions that someone's bound to get hurt at nearly every point. So, where do you draw the line? Or should there even be a line at all? Instinct tells me there should be a line, but those are the instincts of someone firmly on the socially acceptable side of that line...
I talked about this with another friend and she said that it doesn't really matter if there are the so called "backwards" thinkers in our society because they will become less backward as the whole society progresses. Theoretically, I can see how that would be the case, but in practice it feels as though we've reached a divergent point. We may have all progressed together up until a certain state and now we're dividing into different groups of extremists with no hope of a middle ground. I suppose that this is an impossible claim for me to make since I never lived at a time where women were burned at the stake for strange behaviour.
In conclusion, there is none. Maybe I should be open minded to people's intolerances or maybe I should call them on it and have them question their beliefs. Either way I feel as though my natural instinct to shun their behaviour or angrily retort solves nothing and just portrays my own bias and intolerance...
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
April
Well that was an interesting little hiatus. Usually, when I take a break from blogging it's because there's nothing interesting happening in my life that I want to share, but this month it's been because I've been super busy. My schedule hasn't completely eased up, but I'm making time for an update!
Bird Banding
I spent two weeks in the middle of April volunteering with a bird banding project at Iona Beach near the Vancouver Airport. Bird banding is a method of monitoring bird populations that both remain in an area and migrate through it. You do this by setting up mist nets (ie. very fine nets that the birds have trouble seeing) and checking at regular intervals if they have caught anything (usually every 30 minutes, so the birds don't get too cold from having their wings all dishevelled). Then you carefully extract the birds. This is the hardest part because the birds can get themselves quite tangled and you don't want to hurt them. Once the birds are extracted, you put them in a cloth bag until you get to the banding stations, so they calm down.
Once back, you take the bird out of the bag, making sure you're holding it properly with it's head between your index and middle finger and the rest of your hand cupping it's body. Then we get to the actual banding. If the bird hasn't been captured before you get to take a tiny metal band with a number imprinted on it, open it, and close it around the bird's leg like an anklet. You record the number and all the bird's vital statistics; age, sex, wing length, tail length, fat stored, weight and any other comments about their health. Then you release the bird and if you recapture it you can learn more about the local population. Since you're never going to catch all the birds and the ones that have been captured once are going to be more cautious about getting caught again, you can't tell the total population by doing this, but you can get an idea of whether it's stable, growing or declining!
Bird banding is something that I've wanted to try doing since I was in first year of university. In my first forestry class, they had us write up a resume of how we would like our resume to look once we'd finished university. It was a really neat exercise and definitely gave me an idea of possible summer work experiences and internships I could participate in. A lot of the really interesting ones were bird banding, for two reasons. One, a lot of them were international and in the tropics at that! And two, there was so much variety in the type of projects and what you could learn. Birds are, I suppose, similar to a lot of other things in nature in that you don't really find them interesting until you learn more about them. I can definitely understand the appeal of birding, especially after my hands on experience banding. There are so many different kinds of birds, even in a place like Canada, and compared to mammals, amphibians and even insects, they're relatively easy to spot or identify by their calls.
I had a great experience banding and it was nice to put my degree to good use, especially since I'd been feeling that it's been a little wasted working at the restaurant. While I may not have been the most helpful person on the banding team, I learned a lot. I especially learned that handling birds is just a lot about experience and practice. The man running the whole program was amazing! A birding wizard! He was able to tell when you had got one step and were ready to move onto the next, even if you weren't sure you were ready. You could tell he'd been bird handling for years and was really comfortable with it.
One day, it was right when we had arrived at 5:30am, we were walking along the paths opening up the mist nets and there on the path in front of us was a little Northern Saw Whet Owl sitting on a vole on the path in front of us. Apparently these tiny owls have a "dear in the headlights" reaction to light, so the wizard whips out his cell phone and ninja slowly stalks the owl with his hand. He moves so slowly you can barely tell he's moving and then SNAP! He reaches down and quickly grabs the owl with his bare hands! It was abosolutely amazing and after he let us all hold the incredibley light and soft saw whet owl. It was such an awesome (in the true sense of the word) experience and made me wish to aspire to such natural greatness!
Bird Banding
I spent two weeks in the middle of April volunteering with a bird banding project at Iona Beach near the Vancouver Airport. Bird banding is a method of monitoring bird populations that both remain in an area and migrate through it. You do this by setting up mist nets (ie. very fine nets that the birds have trouble seeing) and checking at regular intervals if they have caught anything (usually every 30 minutes, so the birds don't get too cold from having their wings all dishevelled). Then you carefully extract the birds. This is the hardest part because the birds can get themselves quite tangled and you don't want to hurt them. Once the birds are extracted, you put them in a cloth bag until you get to the banding stations, so they calm down.
Once back, you take the bird out of the bag, making sure you're holding it properly with it's head between your index and middle finger and the rest of your hand cupping it's body. Then we get to the actual banding. If the bird hasn't been captured before you get to take a tiny metal band with a number imprinted on it, open it, and close it around the bird's leg like an anklet. You record the number and all the bird's vital statistics; age, sex, wing length, tail length, fat stored, weight and any other comments about their health. Then you release the bird and if you recapture it you can learn more about the local population. Since you're never going to catch all the birds and the ones that have been captured once are going to be more cautious about getting caught again, you can't tell the total population by doing this, but you can get an idea of whether it's stable, growing or declining!
Bird banding is something that I've wanted to try doing since I was in first year of university. In my first forestry class, they had us write up a resume of how we would like our resume to look once we'd finished university. It was a really neat exercise and definitely gave me an idea of possible summer work experiences and internships I could participate in. A lot of the really interesting ones were bird banding, for two reasons. One, a lot of them were international and in the tropics at that! And two, there was so much variety in the type of projects and what you could learn. Birds are, I suppose, similar to a lot of other things in nature in that you don't really find them interesting until you learn more about them. I can definitely understand the appeal of birding, especially after my hands on experience banding. There are so many different kinds of birds, even in a place like Canada, and compared to mammals, amphibians and even insects, they're relatively easy to spot or identify by their calls.
I had a great experience banding and it was nice to put my degree to good use, especially since I'd been feeling that it's been a little wasted working at the restaurant. While I may not have been the most helpful person on the banding team, I learned a lot. I especially learned that handling birds is just a lot about experience and practice. The man running the whole program was amazing! A birding wizard! He was able to tell when you had got one step and were ready to move onto the next, even if you weren't sure you were ready. You could tell he'd been bird handling for years and was really comfortable with it.
One day, it was right when we had arrived at 5:30am, we were walking along the paths opening up the mist nets and there on the path in front of us was a little Northern Saw Whet Owl sitting on a vole on the path in front of us. Apparently these tiny owls have a "dear in the headlights" reaction to light, so the wizard whips out his cell phone and ninja slowly stalks the owl with his hand. He moves so slowly you can barely tell he's moving and then SNAP! He reaches down and quickly grabs the owl with his bare hands! It was abosolutely amazing and after he let us all hold the incredibley light and soft saw whet owl. It was such an awesome (in the true sense of the word) experience and made me wish to aspire to such natural greatness!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Welcome to Surrey
Yesterday, scandal broke in my sleepy little town. Not your garden variety dog-off-leash-on-the-beach, paperboy-late-bringing-the-peacearchnews scandal. This was real, honest to goodness Surrey-style scandal. Yes, my sleepy little town was home to a shooting...a fatal shooting...by the cops.
Now, I'm going to fathom a guess and say that in most Surrey neighbourhoods this type of an event would be met with sighs of acknowledgement and the presence of maybe two cop cars...three if we're feeling lucky. But not my neighbourhood. No, in this lethargic beach town we were lovingly graced with the presence of fifteen police vehicles! It just goes to show how dull, verging on comatose, my corner of the world can be.
Don't get me wrong. This is a tragedy. The police are here to protect us and shouldn't go around bringing the wild west to quaint resort towns. It's just not done. But at the same time...you're kind of asking for it if you walk around brandishing a gun. The people do not stand for such distractions from their yoga and watercolours. They will stand proudly on their lush lawn, brandishing hedge clippers in disgust from behind their white picket fences. They will not turn a blind eye, as they have an opinion on everything.
So, alas, this is what happens when people bring guns and erratic behaviour to a town where the latest excitement was when little Timmy kicked over his sister's sandcastle at the annual festival of the sea. Trigger happy cops and gun-wealding drug dealers. It's nice to feel as though I truly belong to the city on my address for once.
Now, I'm going to fathom a guess and say that in most Surrey neighbourhoods this type of an event would be met with sighs of acknowledgement and the presence of maybe two cop cars...three if we're feeling lucky. But not my neighbourhood. No, in this lethargic beach town we were lovingly graced with the presence of fifteen police vehicles! It just goes to show how dull, verging on comatose, my corner of the world can be.
Don't get me wrong. This is a tragedy. The police are here to protect us and shouldn't go around bringing the wild west to quaint resort towns. It's just not done. But at the same time...you're kind of asking for it if you walk around brandishing a gun. The people do not stand for such distractions from their yoga and watercolours. They will stand proudly on their lush lawn, brandishing hedge clippers in disgust from behind their white picket fences. They will not turn a blind eye, as they have an opinion on everything.
So, alas, this is what happens when people bring guns and erratic behaviour to a town where the latest excitement was when little Timmy kicked over his sister's sandcastle at the annual festival of the sea. Trigger happy cops and gun-wealding drug dealers. It's nice to feel as though I truly belong to the city on my address for once.
Monday, March 21, 2011
A Challenging Puzzle
I had a really fantastic day at work yesterday. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I generally jump around between bussing, hostessing and expediting at work, and last night I was hostessing. Now I'm sure you can imagine hostessing is not usually the most exciting position in a restaurant. It's a lot of standing around waiting for people to arrive and then just walking them to a table. At first I didn't like it. I felt like I couldn't really help out the other support staff because I always had to remain at the door in case someone arrived (it's funny how uncomfortable people are when they get to a restaurant and there's no one there to greet them, but I suppose I'm the same). Anyway, I hated that feeling that I was just standing there and that my job wasn't actually necessary until someone walked up the stairs into the restaurant, but yesterday was one of the good days.
We've been slow the last couple of Sundays, so the manager cut back on the number of servers working last night. That's why it was unfortunate that it was such a beautiful day out and lots of people called up to make reservations at the last minute. It's days like this when hostessing becomes really fun. It's like playing a giant puzzle in my head. I have to make as many people happy as possible using only a limited amount of resources. It's like when I play Sims; I make someone have next to nothing and then I help them rise from the ashes to earn everything they could want or need. I've always loved doing stuff like that. Trying to survive and thrive with so little on my side. It's so much more rewarding than a night that goes by without any problems. I want the problems because I want to be able to solve them and make a difference.
I know it's just a restaurant and maybe it doesn't seem very important, but it's so rewarding to have even just one person thank you for making their evening lovely. There was one table last night and the couple was so patient and thoughtful. They didn't have a reservation, but had come all the way from Vancouver because they love our restaurant so much. I told them that the earliest I would be able to fit them in would be in an hour, so they went for a walk. When they came back I had just had a table open up, so I told them to wait downstairs while I set it up for them. Of course, that was the moment where the phone started ringing off the hook, about 7 reservations came in that needed to be seated, and a very difficult pair of regulars insisted that I find them a table despite their not having a reservation. I think it took me about 15 minutes to deal with all of this before I got around to clearing there table. When I finally got them seated and thanked them for their patience, they were nothing but thankful that I could get them a spot. The whole time they were pleasant and just wonderful to be around even though they waited over an hour to be seated and possibley the worst table in our restaurant. It's things like that, which make me feel happy with what I'm doing. I love to have that challenge thrown at me and see if I can deal with it. The reward is talking to kind people and I love that I work in the kind of place that respects the kind of patient customers we get and rewards their thoughtfulness with complimentary peanut butter pie :-)
We've been slow the last couple of Sundays, so the manager cut back on the number of servers working last night. That's why it was unfortunate that it was such a beautiful day out and lots of people called up to make reservations at the last minute. It's days like this when hostessing becomes really fun. It's like playing a giant puzzle in my head. I have to make as many people happy as possible using only a limited amount of resources. It's like when I play Sims; I make someone have next to nothing and then I help them rise from the ashes to earn everything they could want or need. I've always loved doing stuff like that. Trying to survive and thrive with so little on my side. It's so much more rewarding than a night that goes by without any problems. I want the problems because I want to be able to solve them and make a difference.
I know it's just a restaurant and maybe it doesn't seem very important, but it's so rewarding to have even just one person thank you for making their evening lovely. There was one table last night and the couple was so patient and thoughtful. They didn't have a reservation, but had come all the way from Vancouver because they love our restaurant so much. I told them that the earliest I would be able to fit them in would be in an hour, so they went for a walk. When they came back I had just had a table open up, so I told them to wait downstairs while I set it up for them. Of course, that was the moment where the phone started ringing off the hook, about 7 reservations came in that needed to be seated, and a very difficult pair of regulars insisted that I find them a table despite their not having a reservation. I think it took me about 15 minutes to deal with all of this before I got around to clearing there table. When I finally got them seated and thanked them for their patience, they were nothing but thankful that I could get them a spot. The whole time they were pleasant and just wonderful to be around even though they waited over an hour to be seated and possibley the worst table in our restaurant. It's things like that, which make me feel happy with what I'm doing. I love to have that challenge thrown at me and see if I can deal with it. The reward is talking to kind people and I love that I work in the kind of place that respects the kind of patient customers we get and rewards their thoughtfulness with complimentary peanut butter pie :-)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Finland in my Future?
I applied to a Masters program in January. It was a relatively spontaneous application, since the information session was around January 9th and the application itself was due at the end of the month. But it looked like a good opportunity: one year at a Canadian school and the second at a European school. Who am I to pass up the opportunity to do my two favourite things: travel and learn?
In my mind this application was a bit of a shot in the dark. This is the first year they've done this program and they only accept two people from each of the schools in Canada. After talking to the other people planning to apply at the information session, I put this idea into the "just a dream" category of my mind. After spending the last two months downplaying this idea as a fantasy that was just not meant to be, I heard back yesterday. I got accepted!
I'm insanely happy and proud about it, but now I just don't know what to do with myself. I made it so that I wouldn't be disappointed when I didn't get accepted to the program, and now I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not mentally prepared to accept, but how could I not? It's such an amazing opportunity, but it completely throws off my plans for the future...however vague they were to begin with.
It's funny how our ideas of the future so greatly influence the decisions we have to make. How we fear to stray off course and explore the unknown. I remember when I was about 15, my friends and I made a life plan for ourselves. We decided how many kids we wanted to have and when we felt comfortable having our last kid (for medical and other reasons). Then we counted back from that age. How long did we want to be married before having kids? How long did we want to date our fiance before getting married. According to that plan, I should have already met my future fiance. I may have I suppose, but, as far as I know, that's not the case. And that's a good thing. I'm not ready to be married in the next couple years and I'm certainly not ready to be following a plan that links my life decisions so closely to someone else's life.
I've always been one to believe in fate. I think that things happen in your life when you are ready to handle them and when you are presented with an opportunity, you should jump at it. So, what nagging desire to follow an arbitrary life plan is making me hesitate before jumping at this opportunity?
In my mind this application was a bit of a shot in the dark. This is the first year they've done this program and they only accept two people from each of the schools in Canada. After talking to the other people planning to apply at the information session, I put this idea into the "just a dream" category of my mind. After spending the last two months downplaying this idea as a fantasy that was just not meant to be, I heard back yesterday. I got accepted!
I'm insanely happy and proud about it, but now I just don't know what to do with myself. I made it so that I wouldn't be disappointed when I didn't get accepted to the program, and now I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not mentally prepared to accept, but how could I not? It's such an amazing opportunity, but it completely throws off my plans for the future...however vague they were to begin with.
It's funny how our ideas of the future so greatly influence the decisions we have to make. How we fear to stray off course and explore the unknown. I remember when I was about 15, my friends and I made a life plan for ourselves. We decided how many kids we wanted to have and when we felt comfortable having our last kid (for medical and other reasons). Then we counted back from that age. How long did we want to be married before having kids? How long did we want to date our fiance before getting married. According to that plan, I should have already met my future fiance. I may have I suppose, but, as far as I know, that's not the case. And that's a good thing. I'm not ready to be married in the next couple years and I'm certainly not ready to be following a plan that links my life decisions so closely to someone else's life.
I've always been one to believe in fate. I think that things happen in your life when you are ready to handle them and when you are presented with an opportunity, you should jump at it. So, what nagging desire to follow an arbitrary life plan is making me hesitate before jumping at this opportunity?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Days Like This
I love days like this.
The cold wind blows against my face
Lifts my hair and carries my worries away
As I walk, the cold air brings a sense of reality
Shows me the truth, revealing it gently
I love days like this.
The sun peaks from behind a cloud
Showing it's light; heat hidden by the wind
Days like this bring hope
Show me the fiction of my concerns
I run.
All my troubles fall away
Fall frozen in time and wind
Warmth within the cold
I love days like this.
The cold wind blows against my face
Lifts my hair and carries my worries away
As I walk, the cold air brings a sense of reality
Shows me the truth, revealing it gently
I love days like this.
The sun peaks from behind a cloud
Showing it's light; heat hidden by the wind
Days like this bring hope
Show me the fiction of my concerns
I run.
All my troubles fall away
Fall frozen in time and wind
Warmth within the cold
I love days like this.
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