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Last summer Micha ran the Canadian Death Race in Grande Cache, Alberta. It's taken a bit of time for him to write his impressions and for me to edit them, but here they are. Make yourself a cup of coffee and get comfortable, because he goes into quite a bit of detail. We found woefully little information on the death race during his preparations, so we hope this post will answer some questions, but if you have any questions about the race and about Micha's experience, leave a comment and we'll get back to you. What's up next? Well, he just finished the Rennsteiglauf super-marathon in Thuringen this weekend and is training for the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc in Chamonix, taking place at the end of August 2009.
"Always on the long weekend in August"
Canadian Death Race, Alberta, Canada
Hmm… Running... I've been able to do that for quite a while. At the very least, it's made my parent's apartment unsafe since I was two years old.
But ultra runners have seemed special ever since I first read about them. Some of the more well-known names are featured again and again in articles and I've always asked myself how they manage to do it. How can you run further than a marathon, which for a regular person is already an incredible achievement? How can you train for something like that?
I already found the training I did in 2003 in anticipation of an Ironman race to be very hard work, but at least I had the opportunity to cross-train between the three disciplines. Running 100 kilometers or more, however, which takes about as long as an Ironman, is nothing but running.
In 2007 I tried to run a 100 kilometer race for the first time in Biel, Switzerland. After finishing the race with all the requisite emotions of such an accomplishment, my girlfriend mentioned the race in an online chat with a friend in Edmonton, Canada. Both agreed that I am a little crazy and then the friend said: "Don't tell him about the Canadian Death Race here in Alberta". My girlfriend is especially successful at keeping secrets, so a few days later I registered for the race. On my first visit to the somewhat ominous website, I read about the limited number of participants and didn't want to take the risk of being left out. I would have hated to have gotten a flight, a bear bell and all the necessary equipment but to have missed out on an actual starting number.
Since the North Face Canadian Death Race was looking for volunteers during the race, my girlfriend registered as a volunteer, as well. It’s not like she would have anything better to do during the 24 hours the race would last. Later on we realized that there would have been alternatives. Most solo runners showed up with an entire fan club and race crew, which every runner was happy to have for mental and culinary support during the race. As a volunteer, however, you were also expected to have some fun, as we learned during the kick-off presentation the evening before the race.
I started to train for the race at the beginning of 2008. Whenever time permitted, I did a twenty-kilometer run on the weekends, alongside my regular short runs during the week (two ten-kilometer runs per week). I started my proper training in February.
So - what was the plan?
For starters, regular marathon training in anticipation of the Dresden marathon in April. A little bit more training for the super-marathon at "Rennsteig, Thuringen, in May, followed by the 50th anniversary edition of the Bieler Lauftage in Switzerland. The motto accompanying my training was "The highlight is in August with the Canadian Death Race", meaning that I shouldn't over-exert myself beforehand. After completing all these races, I still didn't feel like I was ready to try this new category of running. The opposite was true, and both my "coach" in Switzerland, Ingo, and I thought I'd make easy pickings for the bears in Alberta after I hit the wall during the Bieler Lauftage.
The name "Death Race" really says it all. After my friend Pierrick sent me the altitude profile (which I had been studiously ignoring until then), I almost fell off my chair. "What have you gotten yourself into?" I asked myself. Meter after meter of altitude, bears, cougars, crossing rivers in the Rockies and then running with the dead... Well, I guess other people have managed to survive it, so let's rock.
I optimized my training plan by spiking my 30-kilometer weekend runs with some shots of altitude, which isn't that easy in our neighborhood. I ignored the hot summer temperatures in keeping with my philosophy that you never know what the weather will be like during the race, so just run. Nevertheless, the devil on my shoulder sometimes won the day and I occasionally ignored the issue of altitude.
Everything was going well and in the end the training turned out to be sufficient. In retrospect, I realized that my training was missing one specific component: looooooooooooooooooong training units of 6, 8, 10 or even more hours of hiking in the mountains, preferably for two consecutive days, and long mountain-bike sessions or similar as alternative cross-training to prepare the body for prolonged endurance. I will try it this year for the next race…
The next thing we knew, we were at the airport bright and early on a Wednesday morning. The first leg of the trip was a flight from Munich to Toronto via Brussels(on Jet Airways. You need to fly with this awesome company) In Toronto we enjoyed a five-hour break with my girlfriend's family and were spoiled with a great lunch. The entire trip to Canada was also an opportunity to visit my "in-laws" and to get to know one of the countries my girlfriend calls home. Everyone was very friendly and welcoming but no one held back on telling me that I'm totally insane.
The next leg was a flight to Edmonton, Alberta, via Calgary. Almost 30 hours would pass before we could lay our exhausted extremities in a bed. Two days later I’d repeat the experience, except this time on foot.
The next morning we had a nice breakfast with my girlfriend's friends, followed by some errands. A few hours later we drove our rented minivan into Grande Cache, Alberta, the home of Canada's toughest race, in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. We rented a room from a lady named June – the nicest soul in the middle of nowhere. The closest village was 150 kilometers away.
The start of this epic athletic event was at 8 in the morning on August 2. I barely slept the night before, tossing and turning from 3 am. A few days earlier I developed a distressing cough and after waking up I didn't really feel like doing this 125 kilometer, 17,000 feet of elevation race or dealing with all the crazies around me. Peculiar thoughts and doubts about health and motivation often go through my head before a race, but the previous evening’s motivational kick-off event had discussed all the things you could do wrong as well as what to do right in order to finish this special adventure race.
The previous day racers had been given the opportunity to write a message on a prayer flag, which would be hanging at the highest point of the race. The motto on my flag said it all: "Just move!"
I took a couple more photos before the start and then the starter's gun went off...
I finished the first leg, about 19 kilometers long, in about two hours and five minutes, which was a little faster than I planned but felt good. "They're all crazy," I was heard to say, excluding myself from the masses. The leg was mostly flat, but the course ran through a crazy trail, covered in bushes, tree roots, ascents and descents, all of which were mere inklings of what was to come.
My one-(wo)man crew was waiting for me at the end of the first leg with her teeny cardboard box of food, clothes, lamps and bear spray. I could barely find her between all the crates of food and gear that the other crews had brought. I felt good and everything was going well. The sandwiches my girlfriend had made really hit the spot.
In retrospect, I'd say that the second leg was the hardest of the five. The rain started at this point and the summit of Mount Flood was very cold. I didn't get much of a break before the steep ascent started. I'd have to describe the descent, however, as the first big disaster. Mud, bushes, slippery slopes, dirt and roots... and to top it all off, I ran out of water. Luckily, the next food station was close enough, just before the ascent to Grande Mountain. This next ascent took much of the power out of my legs, long before I was even halfway through the race, but I still managed to reach the second summit, and was pleased to see the sun reappear. There was a great view from the top onto Grande Cache and a few of us stopped for a quick break.
What followed was another long descent, which made the first descent look like a walk in the park. Luckily my knees survived this ordeal, which was incredibly steep. I made the second leg cutoff with sufficient time to spare. I realized during the second leg that I had miscalculated the third leg cutoff time, and rushed through this stop so I could finish the third leg in time, inhaling a sandwich and moving on.
The third leg was rain- and cold-free and the thought of a long, flat run along the river was a great motivator. Yes, I really had to rush, but it was a very nice run along impressive terrain. The course was moderate enough that it allowed me the opportunity to chat a little with Sheila, a crazy woman (nothing personal, Sheila ;)) from Edmonton, who had done no training until three months before the race, when she started running 25k every other day. Her goal going in was to finish the first three legs of the race and she succeeded. I thank her husband John for his encouraging words along the way and for loading me up with military grade candy for the rest of the way. Good luck in 2009, Sheila!
After the third leg, which I made with ten minutes to spare, I relaxed a bit with a fifteen minute break. Having made the cutoff, I was looking forward to the opportunity to reach the highest point of the race in the next leg. Even if I didn't make the next cutoff, I'd still be able to say that I'd reached the highest elevation point. After my girlfriend did an excellent job feeding me and taking care of me, she went to her next volunteer shift and I started the long ascent. I was the last person to start leg four.
On the way up I saw Wade and Justine, a couple that we had met the day before and who shared a lot of details about the previous year's race. I eventually reached the summit at night, together with two girls from the Grande Cache area that I had met at the emergency drop-out point (where Justine and Wade decided to stop running) on the way to the summit. The drop-out point also had a cutoff time, which again I managed to beat by ten minutes. It was extremely cold and very dark, which thankfully made me too exhausted to worry about any bears that might sneak up behind me.
The feelings I had upon reaching the summit are indescribable, and will always be etched on my mind. The ladies and I kept motivating one another to keep going. We swore together, laughed together and made our way to the other side of the mountain together. Yes! We made the cutoff time of the fourth leg, which was unbelievable because I had some doubts about being able to make it on time. In keeping with the ongoing theme, I made this cutoff with... ten minutes to spare.
I was feeling hopeful again about being able to finish the race before the 24-hour cutoff. At about 4:15am, we started the fifth and last leg.
We had been told at the start of the fifth leg that we had 7 kilometers to the boat that crosses the Grande River, which we should be able to do in an hour and three quarters. That sounded reasonable enough... but the road got longer and longer. It became clear after a while that the distance to the boat was longer than 7 kilometers. When I finally reached the boat, I found out that the actual distance was 9 kilometers. This may sound negligible, but after 100 kilometers and about 5,000 meters of altitude, every meter hurts.
On the way to the boat the ladies and I had a falling out, at which point I decided to part ways with them. I channeled the anger I felt about the incident to energize myself a little and managed to get to the boat crossing with another ten minutes to spare. Crossing the Grande River was a scene that I had imagined a year earlier when I first registered for the race, but the reality was quite mystical, with the ferryman wearing a black robe and taking my payment for transportation to Hades, since without payment I would be bound to pace like a zombie in a no-man's land (the coin that all racers had to carry from the beginning of the race). Greek mythology never mentioned crossing the river into Hades in a speedboat, however.
On the way to the other shore a lady in the boat gave me the last motivational push, telling me that there were still twelve, or at most thirteen kilometers to go, and another hour and forty five minutes to run them. There would be two or three more tough inclines, but "you can make it", she said. I didn't need to wait long for the ascents she described.
While I was incredibly motivated and knew that I could do it, I have to concede that I didn't really have much energy at that point. Under normal circumstances, such a distance would be no problem in the remaining time, but at this point it was different. I just ran at whatever pace my body and the trail would allow. Thirteen kilometers should be possible; it must be possible. Next came the kilometer 116 sign, followed by the "hamburger in 5k” sign, and the extra-motivating sign – "your mom is running faster". It was amazing how just the thought of reaching the finish made me move.
I reached the last incline having run for nearly twenty four hours and got to see my girlfriend at the last curve, where she was just finishing up her second volunteer shift (Thanks for everything, baby). I just kept running, crossing the finish line at 23:49:51. I did it! Unbelievable! The relief, the nervous energy, the fear of being too fast and hitting the wall before the end, the bears, the long months of preparation and the friends who helped me along the way... all these thoughts went through my head at this moment. It was a phenomenal race!
I was the third-last runner to cross the finish line before the clock ran out. All those who finished before the 24-hour cutoff became "members of the Death Race club" at the following morning's award ceremony. The winner, John Cook, finished the race about ten hours before me - the highest of honors, but we're all Death Racers in the end.
Being part of the race, having fun on one of the prettiest courses out there and being so nicely received by the people of Grande Cache are probably experiences we won't encounter again. Thanks to all who made it possible for me and for all racers, for allowing us to experience this adventure.
We're off to Canada for three weeks and I will not be updating during this time. Stay tuned for when I return!
Dear person who bought this off of some defunct Amazon Associates link on my site:
THANK YOU! I got a $95 referral fee from you! Christmas comes early for me this year!
There are big, big changes afoot for rappyamhappy in the next few months. I'll get into them at a later date, but these changes have caused me to examine a number of things a little more carefully.
The first thing I've become ultra-aware of is the environment and my contribution towards its demise. Having moved to Toronto right around the time that the city and its suburbs began recycling on a mass scale, I essentially grew up with recycling as a default. If I couldn't find a recycling bin in which to toss my can of Coke, I'd be wracked with guilt with the thought of tossing it in the garbage. Not only does almost everything get recycled in Toronto today, they even have compost collection! My parents started composting years before the city caught on to the need, so I was aware of the process, but I applaud the GTA for implementing it en masse. Today my parents toss out about a grocery bag's worth of garbage every week, recycling and composting everything else.
As I write this, I'm listening to the sounds of the garbage truck driving by on my suburban Tel Aviv street. Garbage is collected here three times a week (it's collected daily in Tel Aviv itself; in Toronto, by way of comparison, garbage is collected ONCE A WEEK), with each truck operated by three people, plus one person whose job it is to go into the yards of individual apartment buildings to take the garbage bins out to the street. On a personal, resigned level, I'm blase about the whole process now, because I know I can't expect any better, but on a conceptual level, it infuriates me.
I can't find the article to confirm this, but a while back I read an article in Haaretz newspaper, quoting some sort of recycling figure that literally made me snort (recycling figures from the Ministry of the Environment can be found here). Mostly because it was in the low double-digits, a ridiculously inflated figure. The reason for this is that the Israeli government thinks that its citizen are complete and utter morons. This is unsurprising, given the people who "run" this country, but I digress.
The only mass scale recycling that goes on in this country is of plastic bottles. There are big "cages" (the Ministry of the Environment likes to call them "receptacles", but everyone here refers to them as cages) spread on various street corners throughout the country, into which you can toss your plastic bottles for recycling (more details regarding these cages can be found here). The closest cage to my house is about half a kilometer away, meaning that in order for me to recycle I have to hoard my bottles somewhere in my tiny apartment until I can find time to go to the cage. Then I have to walk around with bags precariously filled with bottles. Once I toss the bottles into the cages, which must be done one-by-one, through small round holes in the cage, I'm left with a selection of plastic bags in hand. Since I normally go to the recycling cage when I'm on my way somewhere, I have nowhere to put the empty bags except the garbage. Because why should the cages include a solution for recycling the plastic bags, really?
All of this, by the way, is applicable only to larger plastic bottles. Let's examine the process for smaller (under 1l) bottles. In 2001, Israel implemented the Deposit Law on Beverage Containers. Essentially, prices for all small bottles were raised by 25 agorot (1 NIS = 100 agorot, approximately 6 US cents), considered a "deposit". Upon consuming the contents, the bottles could (conceptually) be returned for a 25 agorot refund.
At the time that the law was implemented, the only place you could go to claim your refund was the grocery store. Sounds easy, right? So in theory, I could buy a bottle of iced tea, drink it while I was shopping, and then hand it over to the cashier and ask for my refund. In theory. In practice, the grocery stores would only accept bottles in multiples of 10 in order to issue a refund (and in most cases, not even a refund - store credit, forcing me to continue to shop there). So after finishing my bottle of iced tea, I would have to find somewhere to store it, take it home and start a collection to reach 10 bottles. And so I did, happily collecting bottles willy-nilly in anticipation of my refund. I'd toss the bottle of iced tea in there, followed by an Eden water bottle, a Neviot water bottle, and assorted other bottles. Once I'd reach the longed for quantity, I would happily make my way to my local grocery store (hereinafter: HELL), approach the head cashier with my loot, and politely ask for my 5 NIS. (Because for a whole 5 NIS, it's really worth getting out of the house, you see).
The cashier would take one look at my bag of goods and respond with an emphatic "No". "Why not?" I would ask. "They all have to be the same kind of bottle," she would respond. HUH? So in order for me to get my money back, I'd have to buy 10 bottles of Eden, 10 bottles of Neviot, 10 bottles of iced tea? Is that how this is supposed to work, I'm supposed to over-consume in order to meet your strict standards? Suffice it to say, at this point I started tossing my smaller bottles into the cages with my larger bottles, when I managed to get to the cages, that is. More often than not, I'm embarrassed to say, I just tossed the bottles in the garbage, because recycling became SUCH A HASSLE.
That was one way of handling this ridiculous process. Another was the enterprising concept of opening "recycling storefronts". Some of Israel's leading crime enterprising families opened up "recycling centres", in which they would take any bottles you wanted to give, without the aforesaid sorting hassles. The only catch was that they'd only pay you 20 agorot per bottle. A miniscule loss for the citizen, a massive gain for the criminals environmentally conscientious owners. Did I happen to mention that two of Israel's leading enterprising families have turned this venture into their main area of contention?
In light of all of the above, the Israeli clown posse government, decided to extend the deposit law to all bottles, bowing down to pressure from the ultra-orthodox community, which is characterized by massive consumption of family-sized bottled beverages and a very low levels of employment motivation income.
I'm particularly amused by this quote:
"Since the law was put into effect it has raised ire within the ultra-Orthodox community because it did not include 1.5 liter containers. Leaders in the ultra-Orthodox community have argued that the law excludes customers from large families, who typically buy the larger, family-size bottles, and therefore cannot receive the 25 agorot refund."
Um, hello? THEY WILL RAISE THE PRICE BY THE AMOUNT OF THE "REFUND", YOU MORONS!"
All of the above goes to show why recycling is bound to never succeed in this country. (Let us not even go into recycling such things as glass, aluminum or paper.) Instead of making recycling easy and convenient, it is layered with hardships and stupidity. I don't need to be "paid" to recycle and I don't think the vast majority of Israelis are looking to make a killing (if you'll pardon the pun) on returning plastic bottles. What we need is to have recycling bins right next to our garbage bins, and trucks that are equipped to collect both simultaneously; or alternatively, give up one day of garbage collection in favour of recycling collection.
I mean, really, it's not like Israeli authorities need to INVENT recycling practices. All they need to do is copy the processes that have been successfully implemented and refined over the past twenty years in the majority of the developed world.
All of this is to say that in light of the non-existent recycling facilities, I've been really careful with what I actually consume. With the reduce/reuse/recycle mantra in mind, and knowing that the latter is largely unavailable, I've been trying to focus on reducing and reusing. In general, I'm trying to buy less, of everything, and I'm trying to reuse what I have. Plastic bottles at home get refilled with tap water or with home-made ice tea. Plastic bags are taken when I go for groceries or produce, in order to avoid bringing in more plastic into my house (I laud the city of San Francisco for recently banning the use of plastic shopping bags). Being friendly to the environment is not only about the health of the planet, it's also about personal health, a topic I'll expand on at a later date.
I've lived in my wee apartment for nearly two years now. In the last year I've really come to love it, even though when I renewed my contract I didn't have any intention of staying here past the current annual lease.
A lot has been said about the rental situation in Tel Aviv and its vicinity, and it can be summed up as: "HOLY SHIT, ALL ISRAELI LANDLORDS ARE BIG FAT SLUMLORD ASSHOLES!" I've been hearing horror stories and avoided even the idea of looking for a new place (I wanted to move into Tel Aviv proper) and assumed my rent would go up, which it did. I talked with my landlady a couple of weeks ago and she said she wants to increase it by $50. Doesn't sound like much, but it works out to 25% of my current rent.
I knew I was lucky that it was so little, as my sister told me today that her friends had rents increased by hundreds of dollars with no ability to move out, since the market is so horribly bad, but I was SUPER miffed when the BIG FAT SLUMLORD ASSHOLE left me a message yesterday saying that the increase is going to be $75 dollars, and hey, deal with it. Stupid cow. Did I mention she was a cow? Have I mentioned that any time I've needed something fixed in the apartment (a sum total of TWO things in two years - an unfunctioning hot water heater and a toilet that became dislodged from the floor), she ran me around in fucking circles for weeks until she finally replaced them with the cheapest, ugliest available options? And that in the same conversation where she informed me of the $50 increase, for which I simply turned the other cheek, I asked her to fix the bathtub fixture which has given me THREE second degree burns and is ruining my washing machine and all my clothes because some BIG FAT SLUMLORD ASSHOLE decided to attach the machine pipe to the hot water tap, she said "it isn't my responsibility"? COW.
And now excuse me while I go write out post-dated cheques for the privilege of taking it up the ass...
Overheard at a sushi restaurant yesterday.
The scene: a table with two young women (20s), rappy sits with her back to them.
Woman 1: I've been to a ton of music concernts.
Woman 2: Really, which ones?
Woman 1: Jennifer Lopez, Celine Dion, Michael Bolton... He was great.
Rappy: *Cringe.*
Woman 2 (with obvious disdain): And you enjoy these kinds of shows?
Woman 1: Oh, sure, they're so great. I also went to see 'Nsync, but the best concert I ever went to was Paul McCartney. He's so awesome.
Woman 2: A-ha.
Woman 1: I don't understand why people would go to a concert where you have to stand. I never go to shows that don't have seating.
Rappy: *Cringe*
Woman 2: I never go to shows that do.
rappy: my cat is mauling a soy bean
coa: what did the soy bean do to deserve that?
rappy: it fell on the floor outside of my eyesight
coa: how dare that soybean fall out of your eye sight. The wrath of the cat will stop that soybean from escaping away
rappy: I'm such a bad cat mommy though. I should take it away from them...
coa: why? its not going to hurt them. They are too busy playing with it to eat it.
rappy: I still took it away. I'm always afraid of them choking
coa: awww. you took all their fun away.
rappy: I'm so mean, yo
coa: Im calling the cat welfare people.
rappy: *shakes with fear*
coa: As soon as they are done investigating Britney Spears, I will send them right over
rappy: ha! Like they’ll ever be done there
coa: true. once they are done checking out the head injury the baby will probably get into KFeds stash or something
rappy: what head injury?
coa: that kid isn’t even walking yet and they have been out there twice
coa: apparently he fell out of his high chair and got a skull fracture or something
rappy: shit
coa: this is after they were out there for her driving with him on her lap
rappy: god
coa: http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1528464/20060412/spears_britney.jhtml?headlines=true
rappy: haha
rappy: that's the funniest URL ever
rappy: headline=true
rappy: *snort*
coa: ha
coa: poor kid
coa: we take better care of our cats than that girl takes of her baby
rappy: this surprises you because?
coa: cause you would think she could hire a competent nanny.
rappy: why would you think that?
coa: but I guess she doesn’t even have the sense to do that
coa: that kid got the shallow end of the gene pool already and now he has to deal with her "hands on" parenting.
rappy: hahahaha
coa: He is trying to learn to walk so he can run away
rappy: haha!
coa: I wonder how long it would take them to notice he was gone
rappy: Family Services should set up an office in their house
coa: the Britney Spears Annex
I haven't had the time to mention it, but the other day I met the lovely noorster (linked on the left nav bar as shutterfool) for a cup of coffee and she is just adorable! She brought me a couple of books to help me get through my reading task so now I have to read them quickly for another excuse to get together with her.
Welcome to Israel, Noorster!
In lieu of real content, here's what I need to do this upcoming week:
This is my new and nameless friend. Eyeball helped me pick her out on Friday, and after riding her home from the store, I already began to experience some discomfort. Which didn't stop us from riding about 15km yesterday. That was fun, yo, and I only found myself in distress twice - at first when I rode from my place to hers (about 200 meters - LAME) and on the last half kilomoter or so, when my thighs performed an unsuccessful mini-revolt. There were a TON of people in the park where we rode with lots of kids veering off into our path unexpectedly, but we managed ok.
On the way down to the port (our destination) I heard a surprised "rappy" and turned my head only to find my favourite waitress from the cafe lounging on the grass with her husband, so we stopped and chatted for a bit.
Anyway, I'm having a hard time picking a name for her. She's a Merida Kalahari 550, and I'm thinking of Kali, but aren't yet committed to that name. Won't you help me on that front?
I'm exceptionally embarrassed about my piss poor performance (yay, alliteration!) on my to do list. Here it is, with all those leftovers, staring at me disapprovingly:
* I'm a nice sister. (On occasion.)
photo by wickenden
Raindrops keep falling on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are falling on my head, they keep falling
So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he' got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are falling on my head, they keep falling
But there's one thing I know
The blues he sends to meet me won't defeat me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Crying's not for me
Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothing's worrying me.
It just POURED outside a little while ago. It was brief but plentiful. Yay! I want it to be fall already! Which obviously means that tomorrow will be 40C out and disgustingly humid.
rappy: Holy shit, rooey. How do people get through life without using commas?
Roo: hahaha
Roo: I have no idea
rappy: how do these people keep their jobs?
Roo: sex?
rappy: haha
rappy: Well, if they rush through it the way they rush through a sentence, I'm not sure.
Roo: HA!
Does anyone else get creeped out by coloured toilet paper, or is it just me?
Won't you fill out a blogging survey, too?
Just yesterday I was telling my brother's roommate that I needed a hobby.
Feast your eyes on it. Except one might term it an obsession. I solved the one from the paper on the bus ride home, and am now counting the minutes until tomorrow's paper arrives.
Here's one for you to try! Click on the "read more" tab for the solution.
Fill in the grid so that every row, every column, and every 3x3 box
contains the digits 1 through 9.
Cross your fingers for me, because I'm waiting to hear if these two ADORABLE things are still looking for a home. They are a few weeks old, and some guy found them in the street and took them in, but his other kitties don't much care for them. I am clearly meant to have them, as I somehow stumbled onto this guy's blog at about 4am this morning, and I NEVER read Israeli blogs.
Tee hee! Cutest site ever. I'm so adding my kitty to it when I get one.
I really don't update here very frequently anymore, mostly because for the last few months, my days have looked a little something like this:
8:30(ish) Wake up. Get out of bed, turn on water heater, and go back to bed for another hour and a half.
10:00 Wake up again. Go to computer to begin downloading torrents of most recent tv shows, then hop into shower.
10:30 Sit on the couch with lappy in lap, and catch up on various websites.
11:00 Watch an episode (or two) of whatever finished downloading from the day before.
2:00 Pick up paper from front stoop, and walk over to cafe. Order latte, observe artfulness of owner with foam, nod my head in appreciation or mockery, and begin reading paper.
4:00 Go home, stopping in hardware store on the way to replenish supplies for the never ending chest/dresser painting project
4:20 Play computer games/watch shows/chat with heewee/eat whatever doesn't require cooking.
11:30 Give heewee a big mwah for keeping me company, go to bed.
No, it isn't cold! It's gorgeous and beautiful and unseasonably warm, which is precisely why I moved to this country, so yay!
I've been missing for a while, having had a bunch of rather urgent translation jobs to take care of, and they took precedence over everything, what with my having to come up with money to pay the rent on MY NEW APARTMENT! WOOT! So excited. I'm moving on Wednesday, and had spent all of the last week stressing about the expense of getting a fridge (both used and new), and was holding off on moving until I got my hands on one. Well, today that mission was accomplished, and I've got movers coming on Wednesday afternoon to cart away my (very limited but awkward to transport) belongings. My sister will be bringing boxes from work today, and I should be all set to go by tomorrow. I don't actually know *when* the fridge will be arriving, as I bought it online and it said it might take up to two weeks. I guess I won't have any dairy products until then. *embraces tea*.
So anyway, as soon as I have the place all set up and rocking to go (with the literally NO POSSESSIONS I have), I'll post a few pictures.
For reasons unexplained, I find myself perusing a dating site, and I must note the following. If you're going to pick a super clever user name, like say, Da Vinci? Learn to spell it, Mr. DeVinchi.
Haha! Mr. DeKarte! What are these losers thinking?
I'm feeling very generous today. If you'd like a gmail invite, I've got about 10 or so to give. Drop me a line with your name and email address to frappy at gmail dot com.
D'ya know what seriously isn't? Taking the newspaper out of my mailbox, and sending me traipising all across the neighborhood to find a replacement.
This evening I went to a gathering to commemorate the 9th anniversary of Itzhak Rabin's death. It took place at Rabin Square in Tel Aviv - a square known as The Kings of Israel Square, until Rabin was murdered there as he was leaving a peace rally, on November 4, 1995.
I went to last year's event during a visit to Israel, and was looking forward to going again. I went with my sister and a friend, and met up with a bunch of his friends, as well as my brother and his friends. I was very disappointed. As we approached the place (which according to the event's MC was attended by 100,000 people, but according to the discerning eyes of the group was lucky if it had 20,000), my friend kept making cynical remarks about how commercialized it's become, and sadly, he was spot on. I was so distracted by the carnival atmosphere of what to me should have been a rather somber event, that I couldn't seem to pay attention to any of the speakers. Some of the singers that performed seemed to be there to promote their latest album, rather than paying their respects with appropriate music, and the whole thing just saddened me, and not because of its subject.
As we were leaving, I commented that next year's event will be much better, because 10 years is a nice round number, and a good number for marketing. It's a lot easier to get excited, for lack of a better word, by the mention of the words "decade", and "assassination".
I hope that next year's event is better because we've accomplished something, and because all of the work that Rabin did deserves to be both remembered and continued.
Heewig sent me this questionnaire. As I rarely forward these things, feel free to steal it off my site if you like.
1. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES? Off white with pretty blue/green/red border
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? Liner Notes by Emily Franklin.
3. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? people still use mouse pads?
4. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE BOARD GAME? does backgammon qualify? It's played on a board.
5. FAVORITE MAGAZINE? Donna Hay
6. FAVORITE SMELL? Hanae Mori, which is technically a scent, but I can't think of any natural smell I adore.
7. LEAST FAVORITE SMELL? Body odour. EEEEW.
8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? 9 more minutes.
9. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR? I'm not really sure. I don't think I own anything brown, but I wouldn't use that as a statement of any sort.
10. HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? However many it takes me to find the phone.
11. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? Not planning on any, but Kieran if there are accidents ;)
13. FAVORITE SOUND? Alias theme song
14. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA? Chocolate
15. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? no
16. STORMS: COOL OR SCARY? Cool
17. WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? Ford Tempo, named Cecil, as it ceased. A lot.
18. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE? Tough question. If I give a celebrity, I come off as shallow, and if I give an intellectual, I come off pretentious. Yitzhak Rabin. I'd love to ask him what he had in mind past 1995. Our world would be very different if he was still alive, I believe.
19. WHAT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY? 02/12/75
20. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI? Yes
21. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Magazine publisher
22. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOR HAIR, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Hazel
23. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? no
24. IS THE GLASS HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY? full
25. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE MOVIES? The Shawshank Redemption
26. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS? Yes
27. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? I don't have a bed :(. Under the sofa I imagine I'll find some dust bunnies.
28. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? 17
29. WHAT IS YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST FEAR? Cockroaches
30. SAY ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU. She's funny, whip smart, and takes up a great deal of my day :)
31. PERSON YOU SENT THIS TO WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? You mean I have to forward this? What happens if I don't? Do I get hit by lightning?
32. PERSON YOU SENT THIS TO WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Ibid.
33. FAVORITE CD? Catherine Wheel, Chrome
34. FAVORITE TV SHOWS? Alias, baby!
35. HAMBURGERS OR HOTDOGS? Burgers, but sometimes you just have to have a Toronto hot dog.
36. FAVORITE SOFT DRINK? Diet coke
37. THE BEST PLACE YOU HAVE EVER BEEN? a toss up between Prague and Barcelona.
38. SCREEN SAVER THAT IS ON YOUR COMPUTER RIGHT NOW? Some painted sea shells I photographed in San Francisco
39. CATS OR DOGS? Cats, obviously. My yet to be procured cat will be named Schnitzel.
40. WHITE HOLIDAY LIGHTS OR MULTI COLORED? If I wasn't Jewish, I'd say white.
Earlier this month I went to dinner with my parents, to celebrate my dad's birthday. Normally we'd go somewhere half decent, but we were short on time and both my parents were on the way to meetings, so we stopped in at Montana, a local saloon style restaurant. The kind of place that covers your table with brown packing paper and provides you with crayons.
As is my habit, I doodled a little, displaying what little talent I have with any sort of writing/drawing implement.
While we were eating, I kept being distracted by a woman two tables over. She spent the whole time we were there drawing away, and I couldn't imagine what she was working on. I asked the waitress, and she said it was quite magnificent, so I had to go and investigate.
I apologized profusely for interrupting their dinner, and told the woman I was very curious about her drawing. WELL! It. Was. Magnificent. The woman, whose name I didn't catch, didn't have an email address for me to send the picture to, so I gave her my url and she said she'd have her daughter take a look. Well, today I got a message from Kathleen (HI!), who was here looking, so I thought it's probably time I actually posted the photo.
The drawing is of an area near Lake Muskoka, which she'd painted a few times over the summer. I believe she said she normally paints with water colours.
Here it is:
Sorry for the disappearance - technical difficulties coupled with being away for a week with only very limited dial up access (UGH) means no posting for me.
While I'm still away, feast your eyes on my latest entry to 50 States. You've probably already seen it on the site, but I had to share it again, as it remains one of my favourite San Francisco pictures.
The 50 States site is a fantastic project, so take a look around, and submit photos if you have them. Karenika is also an incredibly talented photographer, and her recent pictures from Turkey are really quite stunning.
I forgot to post about this the other day. I saw the funniest license plate:
POORSCH
On a Jetta. Hee.
Canada Federal Elections Ballot. Well, in my head anyway.
Well, I suppose I'm not one for the classics. I really do read much more than this list would imply.
*bold those you've read
*italicise started-but-never-finished
*underline those you own but haven't gotten to yet
*add three of your own
*post to your journal
1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. 1984, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Susskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie
101. Three Men In A Boat, Jerome K. Jerome
102. Small Gods, Terry Pratchett
103. The Beach, Alex Garland
104. Dracula, Bram Stoker
105. Point Blanc, Anthony Horowitz
106. The Pickwick Papers, Charles Dickens
107. Stormbreaker, Anthony Horowitz
108. The Wasp Factory, Iain Banks
109. The Day Of The Jackal, Frederick Forsyth
110. The Illustrated Mum, Jacqueline Wilson
111. Jude The Obscure, Thomas Hardy
112. The Secret Diary Of Adrian Mole Aged 13 1/2, Sue Townsend
113. The Cruel Sea, Nicholas Monsarrat
114. Les Miserables, Victor Hugo
115. The Mayor Of Casterbridge, Thomas Hardy
116. The Dare Game, Jacqueline Wilson
117. Bad Girls, Jacqueline Wilson
118. The Picture Of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
119. Shogun, James Clavell
120. The Day Of The Triffids, John Wyndham
121. Lola Rose, Jacqueline Wilson
122. Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray
123. The Forsyte Saga, John Galsworthy
124. House Of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski
125. The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver
126. Reaper Man, Terry Pratchett
127. Angus, Thongs And Full-Frontal Snogging, Louise Rennison
128. The Hound Of The Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle
129. Possession, A. S. Byatt
130. The Master And Margarita, Mikhail Bulgakov
131. The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood
132. Danny The Champion Of The World, Roald Dahl
133. East Of Eden, John Steinbeck
134. George's Marvellous Medicine, Roald Dahl
135. Wyrd Sisters, Terry Pratchett
136. The Color Purple, Alice Walker
137. Hogfather, Terry Pratchett
138. The Thirty-Nine Steps, John Buchan
139. Girls In Tears, Jacqueline Wilson
140. Sleepovers, Jacqueline Wilson
141. All Quiet On The Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque
142. Behind The Scenes At The Museum, Kate Atkinson
143. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby
144. It, Stephen King
145. James And The Giant Peach, Roald Dahl
146. The Green Mile, Stephen King
147. Papillon, Henri Charriere
148. Men At Arms, Terry Pratchett
149. Master And Commander, Patrick O'Brian
150. Skeleton Key, Anthony Horowitz
151. Soul Music, Terry Pratchett
152. Thief Of Time, Terry Pratchett
153. The Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett
154. Atonement, Ian McEwan
155. Secrets, Jacqueline Wilson
156. The Silver Sword, Ian Serraillier
157. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
158. Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad
159. Kim, Rudyard Kipling
160. Cross Stitch, Diana Gabaldon
161. Moby Dick, Herman Melville
162. River God, Wilbur Smith
163. Sunset Song, Lewis Grassic Gibbon
164. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx
165. The World According To Garp, John Irving
166. Lorna Doone, R. D. Blackmore
167. Girls Out Late, Jacqueline Wilson
168. The Far Pavilions, M. M. Kaye
169. The Witches, Roald Dahl
170. Charlotte's Web, E. B. White
171. Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
172. They Used To Play On Grass, Terry Venables and Gordon Williams
173. The Old Man And The Sea, Ernest Hemingway
174. The Name Of The Rose, Umberto Eco
175. Sophie's World, Jostein Gaarder
176. Dustbin Baby, Jacqueline Wilson
177. Fantastic Mr. Fox, Roald Dahl
178. Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
179. Jonathan Livingstone Seagull, Richard Bach
180. The Little Prince, Antoine De Saint-Exupery
181. The Suitcase Kid, Jacqueline Wilson
182. Oliver Twist, Charles Dickens
183. The Power Of One, Bryce Courtenay
184. Silas Marner, George Eliot
185. American Psycho, Bret Easton Ellis
186. The Diary Of A Nobody, George and Weedon Gross-mith
187. Trainspotting, Irvine Welsh
188. Goosebumps, R. L. Stine
189. Heidi, Johanna Spyri
190. Sons And Lovers, D. H. Lawrence
191. The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera
192. Man And Boy, Tony Parsons
193. The Truth, Terry Pratchett
194. The War Of The Worlds, H. G. Wells
195. The Horse Whisperer, Nicholas Evans
196. A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry
197. Witches Abroad, Terry Pratchett
198. The Once And Future King, T. H. White
199. The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Eric Carle
200. Flowers In The Attic, Virginia Andrews
201. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
202. The Eye of the World, Robert Jordan
203. The Great Hunt, Robert Jordan
204. The Dragon Reborn, Robert Jordan
205. Fires of Heaven, Robert Jordan
206. Lord of Chaos, Robert Jordan
207. Winter's Heart, Robert Jordan
208. A Crown of Swords, Robert Jordan
209. Crossroads of Twilight, Robert Jordan
210. A Path of Daggers, Robert Jordan
211. As Nature Made Him, John Colapinto
212. Microserfs, Douglas Coupland
213. The Married Man, Edmund White
214. Winter's Tale, Mark Helprin
215. The History of Sexuality, Michel Foucault
216. Cry to Heaven, Anne Rice
217. Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe, John Boswell
218. Equus, Peter Shaffer
219. The Man Who Ate Everything, Jeffrey Steingarten
220. Letters To A Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
221. Ella Minnow Pea, Mark Dunn
222. The Vampire Lestat, Anne Rice
223. Anthem, Ayn Rand
224. The Bridge To Terabithia, Katherine Paterson
225. Tartuffe, Moliere
226. The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka
227. The Crucible, Arthur Miller
228. The Trial, Franz Kafka
229. Oedipus Rex, Sophocles
230. Oedipus at Colonus, Sophocles
231. Death Be Not Proud, John Gunther
232. A Doll's House, Henrik Ibsen
233. Hedda Gabler, Henrik Ibsen
234. Ethan Frome, Edith Wharton
235. A Raisin In The Sun, Lorraine Hansberry
236. ALIVE!, Piers Paul Read
237. Grapefruit, Yoko Ono
238. Trickster Makes This World, Lewis Hyde
240. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley
241. Chronicles of Thomas Convenant, Unbeliever, Stephen Donaldson
242. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny
242. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon
243. Summerland, Michael Chabon
244. A Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole
245. Candide, Voltaire
246. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More, Roald Dahl
247. Ringworld, Larry Niven
248. The King Must Die, Mary Renault
249. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert Heinlein
250. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeline L'Engle
251. The Eyre Affair, Jasper Fforde
252. The House Of The Seven Gables, Nathaniel Hawthorne
253. The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne
254. The Joy Luck Club, Amy Tan
255. The Great Gilly Hopkins, Katherine Paterson
256. Chocolate Fever, Robert Kimmel Smith
257. Xanth: The Quest for Magic, Piers Anthony
258. The Lost Princess of Oz, L. Frank Baum
259. Wonder Boys, Michael Chabon
260. Lost In A Good Book, Jasper Fforde
261. Well Of Lost Plots, Jasper Fforde
261. Life Of Pi, Yann Martel
263. The Bean Trees, Barbara Kingsolver
264. A Yellow Rraft In Blue Water, Michael Dorris
265. Little House on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder
267. Where The Red Fern Grows, Wilson Rawls
268. Griffin & Sabine, Nick Bantock
269. Witch of Black Bird Pond, Joyce Friedland
270. Mrs. Frisby And The Rats Of NIMH, Robert C. O'Brien
271. Tuck Everlasting, Natalie Babbitt
272. The Cay, Theodore Taylor
273. From The Mixed-Up Files Of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, E.L. Konigsburg
274. The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Jester
275. The Westing Game, Ellen Raskin
276. The Kitchen God's Wife, Amy Tan
277. The Bone Setter's Daughter, Amy Tan
278. Relic, Duglas Preston & Lincolon Child
279. Wicked, Gregory Maguire
280. American Gods, Neil Gaiman
281. Misty of Chincoteague, Marguerite Henry
282. The Girl Next Door, Jack Ketchum
283. Haunted, Judith St. George
284. Singularity, William Sleator
285. A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson
286. Different Seasons, Stephen King
287. Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk
288. About a Boy, Nick Hornby
289. The Bookman's Wake, John Dunning
290. The Church of Dead Girls, Stephen Dobyns
291. Illusions, Richard Bach
292. Magic's Pawn, Mercedes Lackey
293. Magic's Promise, Mercedes Lackey
294. Magic's Price, Mercedes Lackey
295. The Dancing Wu Li Masters, Gary Zukav
296. Spirits of Flux and Anchor, Jack L. Chalker
297. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice
298. The Encyclopedia of Unusual Sex Practices, Brenda Love
299. Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace
300. The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison
301. The Cider House Rules, John Irving
302. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
303. Girlfriend in a Coma, Douglas Coupland
304. The Lion's Game, Nelson Demille
305. The Sun, The Moon, and the Stars, Stephen Brust
306. Cyteen, C. J. Cherryh
307. Foucault's Pendulum, Umberto Eco
308. Cryptonomicon, Neal Stephenson
309. Invisible Monsters, Chuck Palahniuk
310. Camber of Culdi, Kathryn Kurtz
311. The Fountainhead, Ayn Rand
312. War and Rememberance, Herman Wouk
313. The Art of War, Sun Tzu
314. The Giver, Lois Lowry
315. The Telling, Ursula Le Guin
316. Xenogenesis (or Lilith's Brood), Octavia Butler (Dawn, Adulthood Rites,
Imago)
317. A Civil Campaign, Lois McMaster Bujold
318. The Curse of Chalion, Lois McMaster Bujold
319. The Aeneid, Publius Vergilius Maro (Vergil)
320. Hanta Yo, Ruth Beebe Hill
321. The Princess Bride, S. Morganstern (or William Goldman)
322. Beowulf, Anonymous
323. The Sparrow, Maria Doria Russell
324. Deerskin, Robin McKinley
325. Dragonsong, Anne McCaffrey
326. Passage, Connie Willis
327. Otherland, Tad Williams
328. Tigana, Guy Gavriel Kay
329. Number the Stars, Lois Lowry
330. Beloved, Toni Morrison
331. Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, Christopher Moore
332. The mysterious disappearance of Leon, I mean Noel, Ellen Raskin
333. Summer Sisters, Judy Blume
334. The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Victor Hugo
335. The Island on Bird Street, Uri Orlev
336. Midnight in the Dollhouse, Marjorie Filley Stover
337. The Miracle Worker, William Gibson
338. The Genesis Code, John Case
339. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Robert Louis Stevensen
340. Paradise Lost, John Milton
341. Phantom, Susan Kay
342. The Mummy or Ramses the Damned, Anne Rice
343. Anno Dracula, Kim Newman
344: The Dresden Files: Grave Peril, Jim Butcher
345: Tokyo Suckerpunch, Issac Adamson
346: The Winter of Magic's Return, Pamela Service
347: The Oddkins, Dean R. Koontz
348. My Name is Asher Lev, Chaim Potok
349. The Last Goodbye, Raymond Chandler
350. At Swim, Two Boys, Jaime O'Neill
351. Othello, by William Shakespeare
352. The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas
353. The Collected Poems of William Butler Yeats
354. Sati, Christopher Pike
355. The Inferno, Dante
356. The Apology, Plato
357. The Small Rain, Madeline L'Engle
358. The Man Who Tasted Shapes, Richard E Cytowick
359. 5 Novels, Daniel Pinkwater
360. The Sevenwaters Trilogy, Juliet Marillier
361. Girl with a Pearl Earring, Tracy Chevalier
362. To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
363. Our Town, Thorton Wilder
364. Green Grass Running Water, Thomas King
335. The Interpreter, Suzanne Glass
336. The Moor's Last Sigh, Salman Rushdie
337. The Mother Tongue, Bill Bryson
338. A Passage to India, E.M. Forster
339. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky
340. The Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux
341. Pages for You, Sylvia Brownrigg
342. The Changeover, Margaret Mahy
343. Howl's Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones
344.> Angels and Demons
345. Johnny Got His Gun, Dalton Trumbo
346. Shosha, Isaac Bashevis Singer
347. Travels With Charley, John Steinbeck
348. The Diving-bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby
349. The Lunatic at Large by J. Storer Clouston
350. Time for bed by David Baddiel
351. Barrayar by Lois McMaster Bujold
352. Quite Ugly One Morning by Christopher Brookmyre
353. The Bloody Sun by Marion Zimmer Bradley
354. Sewer, Gas, and Eletric by Matt Ruff
355. Jhereg by Steven Brust
356. So You Want To Be A Wizard by Diane Duane
357. Perdido Street Station, China Mieville
358. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Bronte
359. Road-side Dog, Czeslaw Milosz
360. The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje
361. Neuromancer, William Gibson
362. The Epistemology of the Closet, Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick
363. A Canticle for Liebowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr
364. The Mask of Apollo, Mary Renault
365. The Gunslinger, Stephen King
366. Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
367. Absalom, Absalom, William Faulkner
368. The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway
369. Dreamhouse, Alison Habens
370. Hyperion, by Dan Simmons
371. Prospero's Children, Jan Siegel
372. Gaudy Night, Dorothy Sayers
373. Guns, Germs, and Steel, Jared Diamond
374. Enchantment, Orson Scott Card
375. Cetaganda, Lois McMaster Bujold
376. Beauty, Sheri S. Tepper
377. The Hour of the Star, Clarice Lispector
378. The Patron Saint of Liars, Ann Patchett
379. Sexing the Cherry, Jeanette Winterson.
380. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula Le'Guin
381. Assassin's Apprentice, Robin Hobb
382. The Axis Trilogy, Sara Douglass
383. Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie
384. Sabriel, Garth Nix
385. Maurice, E.M. Forster
386. Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer
387. The Wild Swans, by Peg Kerr
388. The Time Traveler's Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger
389. Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides
390. Welcome to the Monkey House, by Kurt Vonnegut
391. The Stranger, by Albert Camus
392. Angry Candy, by Harlan Ellison
393. Snow Crash - Neal Stephenson
394. Motherless Brooklyn - Jonathan Lethem
395. The Brains of Rats - Michael Blumlein
396. Agent of Change – Steve Miller and Sharon Lee
397. The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One
398. The Swiss Family Robinson – Johann Wyss
399. Island of the Blue Dolphins, Scott O’Dell
400. North and South, John Jakes
401. Watchers, Dean Koontz
402. Death du Jour, Kathy Reichs
403. A Is for Alibi, Sue Grafton
404. Postmortem, Patricia Cornwell
405. The Charm School by Nelson DeMille
406. Scarlet Feather by Maeve Binchy
407. How to Eat by Nigella Lawson
A friend of mine, who visited Israel in January, and found out about an initiative called “The People’s Voice”, spearheaded the whole day. He was so inspired by the idea, that he decided he needed to bring the leaders, Admiral (ret.) Ami Ayalon and Professor Sari Nusseibeh, to Toronto for a lecture. The lecture, as well as a few other functions with the two individuals, took place on Wednesday. I was fortunate enough to be included in the organization of the day. I was also exceptionally fortunate to be able to spend the entire day in the presence of Ayalon and Nusseibeh.
My emotions have been in a whirlpool since then. Prior to the day, I considered myself a left leaning Israeli, which is to say that I want peace, I want the bloodshed to stop, and I truly believe that Israelis and Palestinians can co-exist in relative peace. Conversely, I had a very difficult time reconciling those feelings with some of the occurrences in the occupied territories and in Israel. How does one make peace with someone who finds it acceptable to shoot at a car containing a pregnant woman and her four daughters, and continues to shoot until they are all dead? Or to play soccer with the decapitated head of an Israeli soldier? These are horrific acts, and absolutely no amount of maltreatment at the hands of Israel makes them acceptable. And on the other side – how can I accept the shooting of live ammunition on demonstrators, and the subsequent death of young children?
I love Israel. I want nothing more than to be a strong advocate for Israel, but I am very much conflicted. Is it possible to advocate for and criticize something at the same time? I think that it is, but it’s difficult. There’s an attitude prevalent in the Jewish community in Toronto that it’s wrong to criticize Israel in any way, regardless of what it does, because Israel received enough criticism from the rest of the world, and as such, the Jewish community must act as Israel’s defender. I refuse to accept this attitude.
I haven’t traditionally been particularly involved, politically speaking. When Ayalon quoted Edmund Burke yesterday, something clicked. I realized that I can no longer stand aside and let other people speak for me, and other people represent me. I have to speak, and I have to act. I’m trying to avoid being cheesy here, but I came out of Wednesday’s inspired, optimistic, and empowered. When Ayalon made the quote, I believe he changed the word “good” to “ordinary”. He said that when confronted with the quote, he asked himself what he, as an ordinary person, could do to bring a resolution to the conflict in the Middle East. I nearly choked at the thought that anyone could consider Ayalon ordinary, but if he can view himself in that way, then I can too. What can I do, to ensure that evil doesn’t prevail? I certainly need to make my views heard, which is something I’d been reluctant to do, since the majority of my co-workers are right-leaning. I need to be involved, and I need to get over my tendency to stand in the periphery, and start to lead and set an example.
I need to stop being a good person who does nothing.
"All that is required for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing."
-- Edmund Burke
I'll probably talk about this a little more when I have time, but I heard this quote for the first time yesterday, and I felt I needed to share it.
I'm drowning in work and irritation right at the moment, which you'd think would provide much fodder for this place, but I just can't find the time to write about it.
In short, BDI proves to be stupider with every passing moment, the people I work with - all teachers - seem to have little grasp of the concept of a deadline, and I'm off to San Francisco in a week.
Hopefully I'll have time for more during the week.
I had a really fun weekend. On Saturday I headed downtown to St. Lawrence Market with some friends, and we walked around a bit. I managed to get my hands on super inexpensive passionfruit (I'll be attempting that tart again soon), and some truffle oil. Can't wait to put both to use. I also ran into an old high school friend not one minute after setting foot in the building. I hadn't seen her in about 6 years, so hopefully we can catch up soon.
THEN, my friend and I crossed downtown towards Healy's, where Jeff Healy plays for free every Saturday afternoon. On our way there, we chanced upon a movie set, for the movie The Man. There isn't much info on it on imdb, but given Eugene Levy's presence, and the scene we watched being filmed, I can only assume it's a comedy.
The scene went something like this:
Detroit Free Press
USA Today - note bystander with Canadian flag on his bike
The intersection (Bay and Richmond in Toronto, but supposedly Detroit) is filled with police cars, and they scream at the people in the black car to get out of the car with their hands up.
Eugene Levy comes running out (with his pants undone), and tells the cops that it's not what it looks like, and he's not with him (the man in the car) and it's not what it looks like.
Pants mid-fall
Meanwhile, his pants fall off completely.
Eugene's skivvies
Then, Samuel L. Jackson comes out of the car (I didn't get a shot, unfortunately, and he was looking MOIGHTY fine, with cornrows) and screams at the cops to run his plates, because he's FBI, and they're interfering with an FBI investigation. He flashes his badge, waits for them to run the plates, which they apparently do, and at that the scene ends.
DUDE! It was so cool. I can't wait to see this movie when it comes out. And I'll squeal like a little girl when I see that scene!
I took these pictures on the bus this morning. And the bit about Israel wasn't even mine :)!
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Speaking of buses, remember the days when buses had seats? It seems to me that the newer the vehicle, the fewer the seats. There are no more than 30 seats on my bus. These are the matters I ponder during my 1 hour, 3 bus ride every day.
Wow. I found this on metafilter. It's a tour of Chernobyl, 18 years later. It's really eerie.
You're Australia!
You're easy-going, relaxed, and yet somewhat tough and hardy all at the same time. You can appreciate culture, scuba diving, and even safaris. This makes you pretty interesting and intriguing to others, though also really unpredictable and even wild. Your knowledge of nature is unthinkable to most of those around you, even though your respect for it is sometimes less than perfect. People really like your accent.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid
When people say they're going to do a complete 360 change, do they realize they haven't actually changed anything?
*Snort*. Um, ooooookay there, David.
Also found on Blogdex is this story, which made me giggle, and not at all at the fact that they managed to rip off my former employer by using it as a phone sex directory :)!
"Every day people try to steal from us, but nobody has ever stolen from us the way the Badirs did. When they dial, they use the middle finger." Heh.
I was in the car yesterday, and a song about the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin came on (from an Israeli mix CD). I don't know if I've ever heard the song before or not, but it just blew my mind that some demented idiot managed to completely change the course of Middle Eastern history with two bullets.
The mind boggles as to where we'd be if it had never happened.
Memorial candles on the eighth anniversary of Rabin's death
Welcome to Burger King! May I take your order?
Policeman Gerry Scherlink said the pranksters told one customer who had just placed an order: "You don't need a couple of Whoppers. You are too fat. Pull ahead."
To wit, the reason that stupid people shouldn't be allowed to have children:
I'm at the drug store yesterday, waiting for a prescription to be filled, so I'm roaming the aisles. There's a little girl (about 3 or 4 years old) sitting RIGHT at the entrance to the hair product aisle. To her left is a display of those sticky lint removers. This child is in the process of peeling off the layers of sticky paper. Her mother passes her, and moves on to the next aisle, while muttering something to her child. The child finishes destroying the item, and then walks off after her mother, who has ducked into another aisle, so the child can't see her. I call out (rather loudly) "Whose child is this?" Everyone turns around looking dumbly at me. Finally, the mother emerges from three aisles down (yes, way to take care of your child in a store full of strangers) and walks toward her. I say (loudly again), "Your child ruined this lint brush and left it on the floor. Are you going to just leave it like that?" The woman walks towards the aisle and picks up the product. I walk further down to look at all the shampoos. I turn around, and I see her WRAP the removed pieces around the roll, and HANG IT BACK on the display. Because, OBVIOUSLY, it can be resold in that condition, no? She does all this with her daughter WATCHING.
I just had to shake my head. Way to set an example for your child that it's ok to ruin products and NOT pay for them. And thanks for causing stores to jack up prices to recover for your stupidity. She might as well have stolen the thing, as far as I'm concerned.
About bloody time. Let's hope, however, that this isn't what'll get the stupid shrub reelected.
Hahahahaha!
Y'all need to go visit Green Tuna's boyfriend and type in the search "miserable failure".
Read all about it here.
I am seriously at the point of going ape shit on people. In fact, I just did go ape shit on someone, but she's had it coming for a long time, so she can bite me.
Is there any other way to interpret a conversation that starts with, "I'm not blaming you, but...", when the person is talking about something that you, specifically, are responsible for? I mean, they ARE blaming you, right?
Except without the smile. Holy bloody freezing, Batman. I cannot understand how I'll survive this winter. I cried this morning while waiting for the bus.
Enough. With. The. Humming. BDI.
I'm generally a very polite person. I'm also a very concise person. So when I call my dermatologist's office and tell the nurse that the blood work requisition didn't come through clearly on the fax they sent to my doctor's office, there is really NO need to snap at me that the information is all there. I *know* it's there. It's completely illegible, however. Three times I had to tell this bitch that I. Can't. Read. It. and three times, the bitch snapped back at me, "But it's all there".
Was I not being clear? Was *I* being rude? Why can't people in the service industry understand that they are required to be polite and pleasant? And why is being polite and pleasant such a chore for some people? If I were a bitch, I'd understand (sort-of) getting attitude back, but I wasn't rude. It's not in me to be rude - I'm Canadian, for the love of God!
It must be difficult to L-I-S-T-E-N to what a person is saying and just give them a straight forward answer.
*hits bitchy nurse with heewig's lunch tray*
I don't know how I feel about linking to my Amazon wish lists (well, ok, I feel weird, as though I'm soliciting gifts and such, which I'm not), but someone asked me to put them up, and 'tis the season and stuff.
But don't feel like you *need* to get me stuff or anything. Because you really don't!
However, if you're planning on getting other people stuff from Amazon, feel free to get to Amazon through my handy associates icon, right there in my links, because if you buy stuff through my link, I get to earn a few pennies.
The front part of the picture, where you see dirt going across, is what the cable people dug up. The rest is all from that blasted truck.
I'm not normally a list maker, but yesterday, I was attacked by an uncontrollable urge to tidy my room (Shh! Don't tell anyone - they might think I'm about to make a habit of it), and I stumbled upon magazines everywhere. I'm sure you'd love to know what I found.
Magazines I subscribe to:
Bon Appetit
Cooking Light
Real Simple
Magazines I don't subscribe to (but seem to buy all the time anyway):
Gourmet - I keep buying it, and keep hating it. I suppose I just keep wishing it got better.
Everyday Food - A cute little mag from the house of Martha Stewart, which I keep saying I'll use, but never do.
Donna Hay - The most beautiful food magazine I've ever laid eyes on. I'm just too lazy to figure out the Australian exchange rate to figure out whether it's cheaper on the rack or by subscription.
Lucky - Because it's a magazine! about! shopping!
Magazines I occasionally buy (when stuck for an hour while waiting for a bus):
Canadian Living
Allure - Every time I buy this I tell myself, 'Never again'. What an ugly layout.
Magazine-type things found in my room:
17 different J. Crew catalogues - I seem to get a new one every other day.
Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue - How did these people get my address?
I just finished reading the December Lucky magazine. On page 211 there's a change purse by Kate Spade, sold at Neiman Marcus. Price? $150 US dollars. For a CHANGE purse.
