Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
I'm Done!
With my degree in French, that is. There's no update on my transcript yet, so I'm not sure of my grade, but optimistic me says A and pessimistic me says B, which means that I probably received a B+. McGill professors are terrifyingly strict about grading.
Still no pic of me in a cocktail dress holding a bottle of prosecco, but my buddy here is still on her honeymoon in Aruba, so I haven't had a party yet. Perhaps this weekend? Unfortunately, the sealed, stamped and signed diploma will be printed with the rest of the diplomas for 2012-2013 in one fell swoop... Sometime next April. POOP.
Six days after my last final exam... I had a job interview for a company in a field that I refuse to talk about simply because my potential future position there could actually be dangerous. My dad even suggested that I go by a pseudonym simply because the market can be so volatile and easy to take advantage of. I really, really don't want to jinx the result (I'll receive news tomorrow or Tuesday), and so I'm carefully cultivating an attitude of stoic apathy.
But within 10 minutes of sending the company my CV, I received an e-mail invitation to a phone interview. I gave HR my availability, and within 10 minutes of my first available hour, HR called me and I had that interview. Was immediately invited to an in-person interview, which took place last Thursday. Interview went very well compared to that one I had last March for the position with that marketing company.
Can't say anything either way. But I've thought it over and over and over again, flip-flopped multiple times, been alternately jazzed and jaded... Because the position is a high-powered, high-salaried, high-stress position that could make me or break me. Terrifying and challenging. Do I want that, or do I want to be a fiction editor and writer, spending my days in the nearby library with my laptop while the snow falls or the sun shines outside, lost in fantasy worlds?
Still no pic of me in a cocktail dress holding a bottle of prosecco, but my buddy here is still on her honeymoon in Aruba, so I haven't had a party yet. Perhaps this weekend? Unfortunately, the sealed, stamped and signed diploma will be printed with the rest of the diplomas for 2012-2013 in one fell swoop... Sometime next April. POOP.
Six days after my last final exam... I had a job interview for a company in a field that I refuse to talk about simply because my potential future position there could actually be dangerous. My dad even suggested that I go by a pseudonym simply because the market can be so volatile and easy to take advantage of. I really, really don't want to jinx the result (I'll receive news tomorrow or Tuesday), and so I'm carefully cultivating an attitude of stoic apathy.
But within 10 minutes of sending the company my CV, I received an e-mail invitation to a phone interview. I gave HR my availability, and within 10 minutes of my first available hour, HR called me and I had that interview. Was immediately invited to an in-person interview, which took place last Thursday. Interview went very well compared to that one I had last March for the position with that marketing company.
Can't say anything either way. But I've thought it over and over and over again, flip-flopped multiple times, been alternately jazzed and jaded... Because the position is a high-powered, high-salaried, high-stress position that could make me or break me. Terrifying and challenging. Do I want that, or do I want to be a fiction editor and writer, spending my days in the nearby library with my laptop while the snow falls or the sun shines outside, lost in fantasy worlds?
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Post-haste Burgers et Autres Choses
A mediocre day and an awesome evening. Things are looking up?
I had two quizzes; one written expression (a bitch) and one written comprehension. I owned both of them despite my Brain Fog, which was mostly induced by my ill-considered decision to bring oolong tea to school in my vacuum flask rather than my customary coffee. My composition contained about five sets of double pronouns both simple and composé, as well as plenty of all of the imparfait, passé composé, simple present, present continuous, futur proche and futur simple tenses. I think I even tossed a couple of conditionals in there just to boggle their minds. Don't even get me started on les marqueurs de relation.
After lunch, I could barely muster a smile at my poor professor, who knows something about my recent problems. The whole class was a disaster. The partner of one of my classmates had been hospitalized recently for neuro issues and another had a swollen abdomen worthy of a hospital trip, too. A couple were still hungover from Sunday, somehow. We were a sad lot today, morose and suffering, until a discussion about corporal punishment for children... Things went crazy. Needless to say, I woke up and kind of even enjoyed my walk home.
On top of that, a bunch of my clients cancelled their appointments with me, and I could spend the evening designing a kick-ass graphic for my team's final project and writing up the PowerPoint slides. I've been cooking turkey burgers and listening to Ace of Base (The Sign, circa 1996?) at full blast. Unfortunately, Caspian is still out, and I was too hungry to resist devouring my burger post-haste.
I had two quizzes; one written expression (a bitch) and one written comprehension. I owned both of them despite my Brain Fog, which was mostly induced by my ill-considered decision to bring oolong tea to school in my vacuum flask rather than my customary coffee. My composition contained about five sets of double pronouns both simple and composé, as well as plenty of all of the imparfait, passé composé, simple present, present continuous, futur proche and futur simple tenses. I think I even tossed a couple of conditionals in there just to boggle their minds. Don't even get me started on les marqueurs de relation.
After lunch, I could barely muster a smile at my poor professor, who knows something about my recent problems. The whole class was a disaster. The partner of one of my classmates had been hospitalized recently for neuro issues and another had a swollen abdomen worthy of a hospital trip, too. A couple were still hungover from Sunday, somehow. We were a sad lot today, morose and suffering, until a discussion about corporal punishment for children... Things went crazy. Needless to say, I woke up and kind of even enjoyed my walk home.
On top of that, a bunch of my clients cancelled their appointments with me, and I could spend the evening designing a kick-ass graphic for my team's final project and writing up the PowerPoint slides. I've been cooking turkey burgers and listening to Ace of Base (The Sign, circa 1996?) at full blast. Unfortunately, Caspian is still out, and I was too hungry to resist devouring my burger post-haste.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Bein' Happy
I'm going to post while I am completely clear. I am completely clear! No brain fog, no worries, no angst. Was it the wild salmon oil I took about two hours ago? Possibly! But this proves that I'm not dying of some horrible brain tumor or sitting pretty as a hemorrhage kills various regions of my frontal cortex. It's all in my head, no pun intended.
Well, maybe not completely clear... I have been enjoying an Argentinian vintage, inexpensive, called Zone 32. It tastes much better, in my mind, than the $11 it cost. Everything in life should be like this. Caspian is incredibly understanding and responds with hair-sensitive awareness to every awkward anxiety-induced situation I put him through. Man or god? The love of my life, at least.
Anyway. I am in a superb mood and I studied quite a bit for a test tomorrow on personal pronouns and relation markers. Made flashcards and all. I even proofread my final project article and will hand it in tomorrow. Worked plenty for my company this weekend, and I feel... Okay! Better than okay. I feel good. Let's keep it up, squeeps.
Well, maybe not completely clear... I have been enjoying an Argentinian vintage, inexpensive, called Zone 32. It tastes much better, in my mind, than the $11 it cost. Everything in life should be like this. Caspian is incredibly understanding and responds with hair-sensitive awareness to every awkward anxiety-induced situation I put him through. Man or god? The love of my life, at least.
Anyway. I am in a superb mood and I studied quite a bit for a test tomorrow on personal pronouns and relation markers. Made flashcards and all. I even proofread my final project article and will hand it in tomorrow. Worked plenty for my company this weekend, and I feel... Okay! Better than okay. I feel good. Let's keep it up, squeeps.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Um, What?
Feeling better.
Also having probs with one of my profs since Day 1, randomly assigned the initial Q. On the surface, Q seems happy and friendly. But just under this veneer is rather obvious malcontent and sarcasm, which, although it doesn't particularly hurt my feelings, incites feelings of discouragement and discontent. Instinctive emotional response to a negative person.
It's the first time in this program - no, in my life! - that I have felt so... Ridiculed by a teacher. Sure, I can understand corrections. Please, criticize me so that I can improve my skills, that's why I'm paying $1600/6 weeks to take this class. But we're here to learn new things, not to be berated for not knowing everything beforehand or immediately. My 'favorite things' are her "pre-quizzes," which she gives us before we've started on a new grammatical topic so that she has fodder for a scathing lecture?
Some of Q's less tactful comments (en français):
I don't think she's particularly happy with anything in her life, and we just apparently aggrieve her further. Unfortunately, there are a couple of students who are young and don't take the class seriously, but the vast majority have master's degrees and are present for professional reasons, like me. She is certainly going to receive a dispassionate and stark review from me, come the end of this session.
Also having probs with one of my profs since Day 1, randomly assigned the initial Q. On the surface, Q seems happy and friendly. But just under this veneer is rather obvious malcontent and sarcasm, which, although it doesn't particularly hurt my feelings, incites feelings of discouragement and discontent. Instinctive emotional response to a negative person.
It's the first time in this program - no, in my life! - that I have felt so... Ridiculed by a teacher. Sure, I can understand corrections. Please, criticize me so that I can improve my skills, that's why I'm paying $1600/6 weeks to take this class. But we're here to learn new things, not to be berated for not knowing everything beforehand or immediately. My 'favorite things' are her "pre-quizzes," which she gives us before we've started on a new grammatical topic so that she has fodder for a scathing lecture?
Some of Q's less tactful comments (en français):
- ::eye roll, aggrieved sigh:: Shinseiko, why are you asking this question?
- Don't tell me you don't know the answer. Guess, or you won't learn!
- If you don't know the answer, don't simply guess; you'll give the class wrong information.
- If you don't know the answer, consult your document.
- Why on earth are you checking your document, Shinseiko? You should know this.
- Shinseiko, I can't believe these errors in your composition. This mistake here is Level 1. I find it hard to believe that you received an A in Level 3.
- No, no, no. ::exasperated sigh:: You are absolutely wrong, Shinseiko. Next?
I don't think she's particularly happy with anything in her life, and we just apparently aggrieve her further. Unfortunately, there are a couple of students who are young and don't take the class seriously, but the vast majority have master's degrees and are present for professional reasons, like me. She is certainly going to receive a dispassionate and stark review from me, come the end of this session.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Fear of Fear
I think I'm finally breaking. Dealing with a lot of anxiety (especially anxiety about insomnia, but not insomnia itself...?), suffering from frequent and debilitating migraines and almost constant trouble with my digestive system, despite eating a balanced diet.
Seems like I spend more time worrying about finishing things than actually finishing things. I need some perspective, or a break or something.
To complicate everything, Thursday night, Kiska escaped from the backyard when nobody was watching and had a night on the town. I was an absolute mess on Friday and couldn't bring myself to go to school, even though we had a quiz and a field trip to Radio Canada. Caspian and I searched for her from 6 AM to 9 AM with no luck and posted signs in our neighborhood.
I was completely overcome with guilt. The only thoughts in my mind were: What if she's terrified and alone and lost? What will happen when the winter comes? She loves to snuggle and she loves her food; how can I stand the idea of her being cold and hungry and sick, and fighting other cats. What if she gets hit by a car? I couldn't sit still, I couldn't do anything... I can't imagine what parents of lost children must go through.
That was a terrible day. Ads were placed in Craigslist, animal shelters were called. My sister was horrified, knowing what a timid, small and nervous creature Kiska is. How could I let this happen after all of the heartache and triumph this little animal has put us through over the years? All of the surgeries and hospital visits? How could she survive on her own? How could she find her way home, as an inside cat? We're in the center of the downtown area, where there's always tons of activity, noise and traffic.
Between lessons yesterday evening, I wandered out into the backyard. Caspian had scattered soiled litter to mark our "territory" for her, and had placed out one of his old shirts in her fuzzy bed. I'd wandered out there what seemed like hundreds of times that day, disconsolately calling her name, wandering around the three blocks nearby and all of their alleys, probably irritating the neighbors. I glanced in her favorite little hollow under a peony bush where she always liked to roll, sun and sleep.
And she was there!
Where she went and what she did, nobody will ever know. She was fit as a fiddle and very happy; a little bit dirty, but that's what happens when an all-white cat runs around in a city. I think cats are a lot smarter and a lot more able to take care of themselves and remember their surroundings than I give them credit for, especially clever little Kiska.
But the anxiety remains. It's all I can think about, the fear of the fear. Three more weeks.
Seems like I spend more time worrying about finishing things than actually finishing things. I need some perspective, or a break or something.
To complicate everything, Thursday night, Kiska escaped from the backyard when nobody was watching and had a night on the town. I was an absolute mess on Friday and couldn't bring myself to go to school, even though we had a quiz and a field trip to Radio Canada. Caspian and I searched for her from 6 AM to 9 AM with no luck and posted signs in our neighborhood.
I was completely overcome with guilt. The only thoughts in my mind were: What if she's terrified and alone and lost? What will happen when the winter comes? She loves to snuggle and she loves her food; how can I stand the idea of her being cold and hungry and sick, and fighting other cats. What if she gets hit by a car? I couldn't sit still, I couldn't do anything... I can't imagine what parents of lost children must go through.
That was a terrible day. Ads were placed in Craigslist, animal shelters were called. My sister was horrified, knowing what a timid, small and nervous creature Kiska is. How could I let this happen after all of the heartache and triumph this little animal has put us through over the years? All of the surgeries and hospital visits? How could she survive on her own? How could she find her way home, as an inside cat? We're in the center of the downtown area, where there's always tons of activity, noise and traffic.
Between lessons yesterday evening, I wandered out into the backyard. Caspian had scattered soiled litter to mark our "territory" for her, and had placed out one of his old shirts in her fuzzy bed. I'd wandered out there what seemed like hundreds of times that day, disconsolately calling her name, wandering around the three blocks nearby and all of their alleys, probably irritating the neighbors. I glanced in her favorite little hollow under a peony bush where she always liked to roll, sun and sleep.
And she was there!
Where she went and what she did, nobody will ever know. She was fit as a fiddle and very happy; a little bit dirty, but that's what happens when an all-white cat runs around in a city. I think cats are a lot smarter and a lot more able to take care of themselves and remember their surroundings than I give them credit for, especially clever little Kiska.
But the anxiety remains. It's all I can think about, the fear of the fear. Three more weeks.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Niveau 4!
J'aime tellement niveau 4, beaucoup plus que 3. J'aime mes professeurs et les etudiants; il n'y a pas trop d'étudiants cette fois! Il y a 11 dans le cours, un numéro qui est parfait a mon avis. Je sens confortable avec l'environnement, et je suis TRÈS contente sur le sujet de mes examens pour la placement. J'ai scored à niveau 5 (le niveau le plus haut) en expression et écriture et ma nature compétitive est vraiment heureuse à la moment. Je souhaite que ce n'est pas necessaire pour moi de sauter une seméstre; je veux plutôt finir la diplôme immediatement!
Ignorez, s'il vous plaît, mes erreurs d'accentation et de la grammaire.
Ignorez, s'il vous plaît, mes erreurs d'accentation et de la grammaire.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Chin chin!
Je ne le crois pas... J'ai fini niveau 3! Ça fait longtemps depuis j'ai posté. Je crée des nouveaux mots, excusez-moi. Donc, oui, shit got real. Mais, je pense que je suis fonctionnelle en français maintenant. Sûr, ma grammaire est terrible parfois, et je ne sais pas toute la vocabulaire, mais je bien comprends et peux repondre awesomely quand je suis dans le droit état d'esprit. Je suis sûr que je fais beaucoup de erreurs ici! Je me promets que je ne utilise rien des utiles comme Google Translate... C'est seulement pour pratiquer mon français.
For the first four weeks of this last level, which was complete immersion, I was utterly blocked. But two weeks ago, I woke up and suddenly French clicked into place. I can use relatively complex sentence structures (but not a couple of important tenses, like the subjunctive or conditionals), speak fluidly and with excellent pronunciation. It's absolutely true, and I'm just so fucking proud of myself today, the day of the last two final exams. So fucking proud. It's not much longer now.
It is such a joy to be alive! Nine days, free of work and school, stretch before me, to be filled with afternoons of lying in the garden in my yellow bikini, painting furniture bright colors, cooking excellent meals, reading and watching Sailormoon (I am on like episode 60/200 right now, and I still feel like I got an A somehow). I haven't had a single day off for thirteen weeks, including weekends. I am sure you don't blame me for forgetting to post for almost a month. ;)
I made things even more challenging by starting my very first 30 Day Challenge (see www.ted.com)... To run 5k every morning at 6:15 AM for the next month. I realized on day 4 that this is unreasonable, and amended it with "running interspersed with days of weight lifting." I'm on day 7 today and I find it very easy and simple to wake up 40 minutes earlier to get in some extra exercise. I feel closer to my ancient ancestors, closer to the earth, when I run in the morning. There are a few moments when most of the city is asleep but everything else is wide awake. Why sleep through it?
Finally, all of my tuition is paid, through level 5 (the final level). I will obtain, fingers crossed, my certificate of proficiency at the beginning of December, 2012. And I will have accomplished my "30-years-old goal," which is to become fluent in another language. I could cry right now I am so happy. WAIT. Still two levels to go.
Level 4 begins in 9 days. BRING IT.
For the first four weeks of this last level, which was complete immersion, I was utterly blocked. But two weeks ago, I woke up and suddenly French clicked into place. I can use relatively complex sentence structures (but not a couple of important tenses, like the subjunctive or conditionals), speak fluidly and with excellent pronunciation. It's absolutely true, and I'm just so fucking proud of myself today, the day of the last two final exams. So fucking proud. It's not much longer now.
It is such a joy to be alive! Nine days, free of work and school, stretch before me, to be filled with afternoons of lying in the garden in my yellow bikini, painting furniture bright colors, cooking excellent meals, reading and watching Sailormoon (I am on like episode 60/200 right now, and I still feel like I got an A somehow). I haven't had a single day off for thirteen weeks, including weekends. I am sure you don't blame me for forgetting to post for almost a month. ;)
I made things even more challenging by starting my very first 30 Day Challenge (see www.ted.com)... To run 5k every morning at 6:15 AM for the next month. I realized on day 4 that this is unreasonable, and amended it with "running interspersed with days of weight lifting." I'm on day 7 today and I find it very easy and simple to wake up 40 minutes earlier to get in some extra exercise. I feel closer to my ancient ancestors, closer to the earth, when I run in the morning. There are a few moments when most of the city is asleep but everything else is wide awake. Why sleep through it?
Finally, all of my tuition is paid, through level 5 (the final level). I will obtain, fingers crossed, my certificate of proficiency at the beginning of December, 2012. And I will have accomplished my "30-years-old goal," which is to become fluent in another language. I could cry right now I am so happy. WAIT. Still two levels to go.
Level 4 begins in 9 days. BRING IT.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Pooh-Pooh to You, Too
I am totally in a bad mood for a dumb reason.
Today was my first day of Intermediate I, and, sadly, I am not the best and brightest student in the class. Nope, there are six others out of twenty who surpass me in French skills, and possibly education - one in particular has my competitive nature chomping at the bit. At least we have some new blood and I don't have to be completely irritated at my lackey classmates anymore. I met my first Americans at McGill University in my new class, and they are quite cool. Good representation; plenty of tattoos and PhDs.
It also sucks because today was a Perfect Day. There aren't many Perfect Days in a year, and they should be appreciated. Luckily, yesterday was one, and I ran about 6k in Westmount south of Ste Catherine, which I've never visited before and loved. Today... Was so perfect that it just made my day even worse. Mocking me with its beauty and all that. Poking nosy little sunbeams into every crevice of my baby bad mood. Some corners should just stay shadowed.
Tomorrow will be rainy and I will be avenged! Take that, sunshine. I hope chill, seeping spears pierce your brightest places and infuse you with gray. Damn fine alliteration and assonance. I am going to wear black and I don't care if it's spring.
Today was my first day of Intermediate I, and, sadly, I am not the best and brightest student in the class. Nope, there are six others out of twenty who surpass me in French skills, and possibly education - one in particular has my competitive nature chomping at the bit. At least we have some new blood and I don't have to be completely irritated at my lackey classmates anymore. I met my first Americans at McGill University in my new class, and they are quite cool. Good representation; plenty of tattoos and PhDs.
It also sucks because today was a Perfect Day. There aren't many Perfect Days in a year, and they should be appreciated. Luckily, yesterday was one, and I ran about 6k in Westmount south of Ste Catherine, which I've never visited before and loved. Today... Was so perfect that it just made my day even worse. Mocking me with its beauty and all that. Poking nosy little sunbeams into every crevice of my baby bad mood. Some corners should just stay shadowed.
Tomorrow will be rainy and I will be avenged! Take that, sunshine. I hope chill, seeping spears pierce your brightest places and infuse you with gray. Damn fine alliteration and assonance. I am going to wear black and I don't care if it's spring.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Wednesday Update
So... What's going on in the life of Shinseiko? Well, I happen to be drinking a gin & tonic while sitting at my desk, wishing and hoping that my group presentation partners would realize that they forgot to attach the final presentation documents to their e-mail... And the presentation is tomorrow morning. ::facepalm::
I lost quite a bit of weight when ill that I didn't really need to lose (I think I ate one meal every two days during that week, and every .5 degree C increase in body temperature increases one's BMR 7%), so I've been making up for it by eating Cadbury eggs, Chee-tos and Whippets. If you don't know what a Whippet is, your life is just a pale, wan shadow of what it could be. A Whippet is a Montréalais soft sugar cookie topped with raspberry jam, covered with a big marshmallow, and then enrobed in dark chocolate.
French this semester is markedly more difficult (and rigorously graded) than last semester. I consistently receive the class high grades, but they are usually somewhere around 80 - 82%; it is extremely rare for anybody to receive a mark over 82%. I've had to study pretty consistently now that we've gotten to different tonic pronouns for verbs with, without and with multiple prepositions in many different forms. I'm really confident in my everyday listening comprehension and accent, but correct grammar requires ultra concentration... Enthusiasm kind of makes up for that though in many cases. I go to school early so that I have an extra 30 minutes to review what we learned the day before, which is a lot, given that every day contains 6 class hours. Then, I come home and work until 7.
Yeah, so we have our final project presentations tomorrow and I am CURSED with unintelligent, procrastinating, childish group partners. Well, one in particular who absolutely drives me up the wall and makes me want to throttle him. It is absolutely, factually the truth. We present tomorrow morning, and this person hasn't contributed a damn thing. I told him to have his portion done by 8 PM this evening; he complained and said that he needed to sleep from 3:30 - 8 PM and would have it done by 12 AM. I retorted, "Absolutely not. You are going to go home and finish this project that is due tomorrow." He looked at me like I was bonkers and said sarcastically to our other two groupies (who were looking on in dismay), "What mom here said. Except 11 PM." Have I ever come so close to grabbing somebody's ear and yanking on it for all I was worth? Nope.
So goes my existence.
P.S. - Ribs are still broken.
I lost quite a bit of weight when ill that I didn't really need to lose (I think I ate one meal every two days during that week, and every .5 degree C increase in body temperature increases one's BMR 7%), so I've been making up for it by eating Cadbury eggs, Chee-tos and Whippets. If you don't know what a Whippet is, your life is just a pale, wan shadow of what it could be. A Whippet is a Montréalais soft sugar cookie topped with raspberry jam, covered with a big marshmallow, and then enrobed in dark chocolate.
 |
| How can you not want this? |
French this semester is markedly more difficult (and rigorously graded) than last semester. I consistently receive the class high grades, but they are usually somewhere around 80 - 82%; it is extremely rare for anybody to receive a mark over 82%. I've had to study pretty consistently now that we've gotten to different tonic pronouns for verbs with, without and with multiple prepositions in many different forms. I'm really confident in my everyday listening comprehension and accent, but correct grammar requires ultra concentration... Enthusiasm kind of makes up for that though in many cases. I go to school early so that I have an extra 30 minutes to review what we learned the day before, which is a lot, given that every day contains 6 class hours. Then, I come home and work until 7.
Yeah, so we have our final project presentations tomorrow and I am CURSED with unintelligent, procrastinating, childish group partners. Well, one in particular who absolutely drives me up the wall and makes me want to throttle him. It is absolutely, factually the truth. We present tomorrow morning, and this person hasn't contributed a damn thing. I told him to have his portion done by 8 PM this evening; he complained and said that he needed to sleep from 3:30 - 8 PM and would have it done by 12 AM. I retorted, "Absolutely not. You are going to go home and finish this project that is due tomorrow." He looked at me like I was bonkers and said sarcastically to our other two groupies (who were looking on in dismay), "What mom here said. Except 11 PM." Have I ever come so close to grabbing somebody's ear and yanking on it for all I was worth? Nope.
So goes my existence.
P.S. - Ribs are still broken.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Bizzy Week!
What has happened in the last 9 days:
- Surprise job interview: After applying for a few interesting positions mostly to practice my cover letter writing skills, I was quite shocked to get called in for an interview on Tuesday morning. I am 70% sure that I will get an offer within the next week. Because of Rule #1 (don't talk about work), I can't really reveal the nature of the position or the company (which are both pretty unique), but I'll suffice to say that it's in a sort of unique subsection of marketing and would likely be an excellent experience (even if it doesn't pay as well as I'd like in the beginning, but beggars can't be choosers, I guess). This means that I would complete my current full-time semester on April 13th and then commence work and part-time class... If I get an offer and if I accept it.
- Almost skipped my French level, but decided to stay in it after all. I'm very strong in my level and I'd be quite weak in the next; I'd rather have actual fun in class rather than struggle to keep up.
- Had a couple of beautiful dance lessons: Foxtrot, tango, quickstep and Viennese waltz. It seems that whatever was bothering me about Felix has passed; we are on as good of terms as ever?
- Finished my first week of the next level of intensive French. Met a lot of neat people from Korea, Bangladesh, Japan, China, Brazil and Israel, and I have a beautiful - ahem! - I mean, talented and kind teacher (who is also married with five kids) this time around. I am very excited about this level!
- My husband, Caspian, left for a very important business trip in San Francisco last weekend... And he will return tonight! I've been alone for this entire week and all of its craziness, and it's probably for the better.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Fronching it Up
One more week, and I will have completed almost three college semesters (1.5 years of a 4 credit hour course) of French in six weeks. That's 210 hours of class time, not counting homework or studying for exams (not that I've done a whole lot of studying). I did tons of homework, I did it ALL, required, not required, suggested and even some stuff on my own. I completed ALL pronunciation lab work. I scored 95% or above on all of my exams so far, oral, listening, writing, reading and improvisation. I didn't miss a day.
I'm adamant that I can't lose any of it. It was expensive, and the school/program is world-renowned. I'm particularly worried that I'm going to forget, since it was a lot of information crammed into a small period of time. Foreign languages require quite a bit of what my dad calls "sink time," when your brain soaks it in and fixes it into place. Maybe I will study during the week break between levels?
In other news, I'm reliving my teenagerhood by reading ALL of Tamora Pierce's books, now followed by Garth Nix's Abhorsen series. Seems to fit well with all the studying and stuff. Wait. Did I study when I was teenager?
Nop.
I'm adamant that I can't lose any of it. It was expensive, and the school/program is world-renowned. I'm particularly worried that I'm going to forget, since it was a lot of information crammed into a small period of time. Foreign languages require quite a bit of what my dad calls "sink time," when your brain soaks it in and fixes it into place. Maybe I will study during the week break between levels?
In other news, I'm reliving my teenagerhood by reading ALL of Tamora Pierce's books, now followed by Garth Nix's Abhorsen series. Seems to fit well with all the studying and stuff. Wait. Did I study when I was teenager?
Nop.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
The Cinnamon Fiasco
Sooo... I have a young classmate who has been jonesin' to try the infamous cinnamon challenge. To take this challenge, one simply attempts to swallow an innocuous spoonful of cinnamon, always with messy results.
For two weeks, me and another classmate, S, have shown her numerous videos of various people attempting the cinnamon challenge, but to no effect; she was dead-set on trying, and in class, no less. S provided the cinnamon and handed it over, warning them that it wouldn't be a fun experience. Our other classmates readied their smartphones for recording the event.
In the middle of the computer lab, this classmate B, and another, R, took the cinnamon challenge. Before they did so, I yelled at them, set up a trashcan and left the room with N, positive that they'd explode cinnamon all over the expensive equipment and/or puke in all directions and that I'd get in trouble. I wasn't disappointed!
I stopped in the restroom on the way from the lab to our classroom, and presently, in roar R and B, coughing and gagging. R was laughing so hard that she could barely gasp, clouds of cinnamon pouring fourth. Meanwhile, B vomited into the sink, coughing and laughing between retches. Really? This is somebody's idea of a good time?
R recovered before B and stood by, pointing and laughing. When B finally emerged from the bathroom, eyes and nose streaming cinnamon tears, she croaked, "Shinseiko, I should have listened to you. That was horrible."
At the tail end of lunch, one of our other classmates, E, saunters in. He's one of my faves, a young, chill dude from Mexico City with an endless array of Armani Express t-shirts. As soon as R and B described their suffering to him in gritty detail, he was jonesin' to take the cinnamon challenge, no matter what I or N (the doctor in the class) said or how we pleaded. N pushed him out into the hallway and, surrounded by five other classmates with their iPhones out, ready for filming, proceeded to stuff a heaping spoonful into his mouth. He chewed for three seconds... And ran for the men's restroom, naturally.
The whole class couldn't stop laughing all day, because E suffered by far the worst effects. Unlike R, who had managed to isolate and swallow her cinnamon, and S, who coughed and puked it all out, E snorked it deep into his sinuses, where it proceeded to puff up all of his poor mucous membranes to the point that he was drooling and slobbering, unable to breathe through his nose, and couldn't feel his throat. He went through a box of tissues in an hour and sat taking notes at his desk, sweating and sniffling and croaking in discomfort. During break, I said, "So, E, how was it?" And he smiled adorably like a little sick kid, his eyes watering and spilling over, and grunted, "It was awesome."
For two weeks, me and another classmate, S, have shown her numerous videos of various people attempting the cinnamon challenge, but to no effect; she was dead-set on trying, and in class, no less. S provided the cinnamon and handed it over, warning them that it wouldn't be a fun experience. Our other classmates readied their smartphones for recording the event.
In the middle of the computer lab, this classmate B, and another, R, took the cinnamon challenge. Before they did so, I yelled at them, set up a trashcan and left the room with N, positive that they'd explode cinnamon all over the expensive equipment and/or puke in all directions and that I'd get in trouble. I wasn't disappointed!
I stopped in the restroom on the way from the lab to our classroom, and presently, in roar R and B, coughing and gagging. R was laughing so hard that she could barely gasp, clouds of cinnamon pouring fourth. Meanwhile, B vomited into the sink, coughing and laughing between retches. Really? This is somebody's idea of a good time?
R recovered before B and stood by, pointing and laughing. When B finally emerged from the bathroom, eyes and nose streaming cinnamon tears, she croaked, "Shinseiko, I should have listened to you. That was horrible."
At the tail end of lunch, one of our other classmates, E, saunters in. He's one of my faves, a young, chill dude from Mexico City with an endless array of Armani Express t-shirts. As soon as R and B described their suffering to him in gritty detail, he was jonesin' to take the cinnamon challenge, no matter what I or N (the doctor in the class) said or how we pleaded. N pushed him out into the hallway and, surrounded by five other classmates with their iPhones out, ready for filming, proceeded to stuff a heaping spoonful into his mouth. He chewed for three seconds... And ran for the men's restroom, naturally.
The whole class couldn't stop laughing all day, because E suffered by far the worst effects. Unlike R, who had managed to isolate and swallow her cinnamon, and S, who coughed and puked it all out, E snorked it deep into his sinuses, where it proceeded to puff up all of his poor mucous membranes to the point that he was drooling and slobbering, unable to breathe through his nose, and couldn't feel his throat. He went through a box of tissues in an hour and sat taking notes at his desk, sweating and sniffling and croaking in discomfort. During break, I said, "So, E, how was it?" And he smiled adorably like a little sick kid, his eyes watering and spilling over, and grunted, "It was awesome."
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Happy Kitties Get Wine
I totally aced part deux of my midterm. I raced through it, checked it twice (paying special attention to the accentation of stem-changing verbs and the plurality of my possessive adjectives, since they follow the object modified, rather than the number of subjects), and was outta there in like 40 minutes, the 2nd to leave the room. If there's one thing I'm super good at, it's remembering ANYTHING verbal. Anything. If I've written it down once, chances are I'll remember it without studying for probably two or three weeks.
The university is getting on my case about my passport, which expired in January. Soooo, I ran to the bank, got a money order and sent it all off to be renewed, hopefully in time to complete my registration for the next level, beginning at the start of March. Tonight, I am pretty excited about not having to feel guilty for not studying. Heh.
It was a beautiful winter day in Montréal, windy and chilly and clogged with fashionable people of course, but everybody I interacted with was friendly. I am a happy kitty.
The university is getting on my case about my passport, which expired in January. Soooo, I ran to the bank, got a money order and sent it all off to be renewed, hopefully in time to complete my registration for the next level, beginning at the start of March. Tonight, I am pretty excited about not having to feel guilty for not studying. Heh.
It was a beautiful winter day in Montréal, windy and chilly and clogged with fashionable people of course, but everybody I interacted with was friendly. I am a happy kitty.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Stuff and Things
I've been thinking. I find it totally relaxing to read about the minutiae of other people's lives (especially the blogs of authors I like). Maybe I'll do some of that here as well, just for shits and giggles, but first I have to update you regarding recent happenings.
All is well in the land of Shinseiko and Caspian, albeit a bit cold, windy and covered with ice and snow. Don't visit Canada in the wintertime unless you have fondness for these things.
I wake up early every weekday morning, shower, put my (already selected) lunch together and walk [in arctic temps] about two miles to my university, where I'm in class with some really awesome people from all over the world. We have a doctor from Saudi Arabia, three Canadians from other provinces, two Mexicans, one Venezuelan, one Kenyan, a lawyer from Jordan, one Ukranian, one Chinese, one Thai and one Taiwanese. That's 14 people total, including me, the only American. I think it's hilarious and irritating that I'm considered like the representative of the USA in this class. When people talk about the US, they will address me with the plural "you."
It is a superb program, probably one of the best French language programs in the world. After all McGill University is the 17th best university in the world. I spend my days laughing, acting silly, making up skits, conjugating verbs and babbling in pronunciation lab. I walk home facing west (I despise sunny days, because the light reflects blindingly from the snow and ice on the sidewalk and into my eyes) at 3, get home at 3:30, and start work at 4, working until 7. My clientele has changed a bit with the new hours; I have plenty of Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Japanese students. French students prefer to take their lessons in the early evenings on weekends, on which I also work, for six hours each day... Which means I don't have a single day off until the semester is over (I have a week of break between them). Hours of homework are completed by candlelight in the evening or on the weekends. I pretty much have no life right now. Luckily, that means that I don't spend much money either.
And yet, Felix (who has been stressed about work recently for reasons I can't disclose) wants to practice twice this week. I... Have been ultra irritated with him. With his simplicity and hyperactivity and unrelenting energy. It is difficult for me at this point in my life to have a friend like him for some reason. I feel like I am a child in his eyes, full of simple emotions and thoughts, in need of repetition, never learning, always making the same mistakes. Maybe it's true and things can be distilled like that, but I'm just not in the mood for it.
We also had a very sick kitty a couple of weeks ago. We came home from our friends' place and found Kiska unable to move on the floor of our bedroom. She had pooped and peed on herself. We rushed her to the emergency veterinarian at midnight on a Saturday, sure that she was going to die. I thought it was neurological and feared that the last memory of my little white cat would be the image of her struggling to move on the floor, crying in fear. Caspian held her to his chest and she just panted between cries, her face smushed up against him.
We discussed euthanasia that night for two hours in a stuffy exam room. I cried the most anguished tears of my life, over a little 8-pound creature. We couldn't afford any treatment, only hospitalization, with me a student again. We agreed that if she did not get better in two or three days, we would say goodbye.
Luckily, it turned out to be ideopathic vestibular disease, an uncommon but not unheard-of inner ear syndrome that strikes with a vengeance and usually corrects itself. Within two days, she was able to stand, eat and drink on her own, and we brought her home, where she joyfully reunited with her housemate. She has been playful, active and friendly ever since. $500 for those three days, which was part of my dance costume money. It looks like competition isn't in the near future.
The schedule above is how it will go for the next year or so, until I finish my Certificate of Proficiency. I've already started the job hunt, sending my CV to my career counselor for editing. Hopefully I will have a well-paying bilingual position lined up as soon as I have my certificate in hand!
All is well in the land of Shinseiko and Caspian, albeit a bit cold, windy and covered with ice and snow. Don't visit Canada in the wintertime unless you have fondness for these things.
I wake up early every weekday morning, shower, put my (already selected) lunch together and walk [in arctic temps] about two miles to my university, where I'm in class with some really awesome people from all over the world. We have a doctor from Saudi Arabia, three Canadians from other provinces, two Mexicans, one Venezuelan, one Kenyan, a lawyer from Jordan, one Ukranian, one Chinese, one Thai and one Taiwanese. That's 14 people total, including me, the only American. I think it's hilarious and irritating that I'm considered like the representative of the USA in this class. When people talk about the US, they will address me with the plural "you."
It is a superb program, probably one of the best French language programs in the world. After all McGill University is the 17th best university in the world. I spend my days laughing, acting silly, making up skits, conjugating verbs and babbling in pronunciation lab. I walk home facing west (I despise sunny days, because the light reflects blindingly from the snow and ice on the sidewalk and into my eyes) at 3, get home at 3:30, and start work at 4, working until 7. My clientele has changed a bit with the new hours; I have plenty of Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Japanese students. French students prefer to take their lessons in the early evenings on weekends, on which I also work, for six hours each day... Which means I don't have a single day off until the semester is over (I have a week of break between them). Hours of homework are completed by candlelight in the evening or on the weekends. I pretty much have no life right now. Luckily, that means that I don't spend much money either.
And yet, Felix (who has been stressed about work recently for reasons I can't disclose) wants to practice twice this week. I... Have been ultra irritated with him. With his simplicity and hyperactivity and unrelenting energy. It is difficult for me at this point in my life to have a friend like him for some reason. I feel like I am a child in his eyes, full of simple emotions and thoughts, in need of repetition, never learning, always making the same mistakes. Maybe it's true and things can be distilled like that, but I'm just not in the mood for it.
We also had a very sick kitty a couple of weeks ago. We came home from our friends' place and found Kiska unable to move on the floor of our bedroom. She had pooped and peed on herself. We rushed her to the emergency veterinarian at midnight on a Saturday, sure that she was going to die. I thought it was neurological and feared that the last memory of my little white cat would be the image of her struggling to move on the floor, crying in fear. Caspian held her to his chest and she just panted between cries, her face smushed up against him.
We discussed euthanasia that night for two hours in a stuffy exam room. I cried the most anguished tears of my life, over a little 8-pound creature. We couldn't afford any treatment, only hospitalization, with me a student again. We agreed that if she did not get better in two or three days, we would say goodbye.
Luckily, it turned out to be ideopathic vestibular disease, an uncommon but not unheard-of inner ear syndrome that strikes with a vengeance and usually corrects itself. Within two days, she was able to stand, eat and drink on her own, and we brought her home, where she joyfully reunited with her housemate. She has been playful, active and friendly ever since. $500 for those three days, which was part of my dance costume money. It looks like competition isn't in the near future.
The schedule above is how it will go for the next year or so, until I finish my Certificate of Proficiency. I've already started the job hunt, sending my CV to my career counselor for editing. Hopefully I will have a well-paying bilingual position lined up as soon as I have my certificate in hand!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Onward!
So much for my prediction! It's just... So many adventures are happening, and I have to talk about them!
I took my French placement test on Wednesday morning.
Just to see what it'd be like, since metro tickets are up to $3 this year (the most expensive in the world by a large margin), I bundled up in my ankle-length down coat, insulated Kamik snowboots, insulated gloves and a sparkly black wool scarf I knitted, wrapped three times around my face and neck so that only my eyes were showing. Armed with my iPod and paperwork (jauntily placed within my snazzy new houndstooth backpack), I set out on a 25-minute trek to McGill University; it was -16 C (3 degrees F). I wanted to see what it would be like to walk both ways in extreme weather conditions. It was fine! One moderate hill, and then a nice amble northeast up Rue Sherbrooke, past the museums, ritzy hotels and outrageously expensive clothing stores. I could easily do it every day.
I say "extreme weather conditions" in a very hopeful tone, since last February there were two mornings of -40 C (-40 F as well; this dismal point is where the two systems meet). That's beyond extreme; more like deep space-esque. I had to wear three pairs of socks, a pair of long underwear, pants, a shirt and a coat, all under a fleece blanket when I woke up those mornings before the house had been heated to a bearable 10 C (50 F).
Anyway! Enough digression, it's depressing.
So I successfully trekked to my new university, #19 in the world, and so reasonably-priced! Classes are in a high-rise tower, and I was impressed by the people I talked to. I am extremely gregarious in academic settings and anticipated the usual Montreal standoffishness, but nope, everybody responded cheerily and with much wit. Everything was in order and I seemed to be miles ahead of the other students in my program, most of whom had not been in Canada for very long and were basically frazzled tornadoes of paperwork and forms. Many Europeans, Koreans, Chinese, and quite a few Canadians from other provinces; maybe three American citizens in my placement class. I was all paid up, had my public health insurance card, passport, work permit, student permit and CAQ (permission to study full-time).
I arrived early and gave my card to the young test moderator, but told him that I was a beginner; at that moment, one of the two main French profs came in and shook my hand in such a nice, friendly way after overhearing me. He told me to come chat with him, so I followed him to his interview classroom and we talked in English and French for 15 minutes or so. He was perplexed by me. My ear is abnormally good, my reading comp and writing are both passable... My speaking is Not Good. Not my accent, which he described as "very nice," but my ability to synthesize sentences on the fly, mostly due to crippling perfectionism.
He told me I had a knack for languages (not sure what preempted this comment), and that I was across the board in all four areas. He said that true beginners are exempt from the placement test, but he told me I should go ahead and sit for it in case the results would allow me to skip a level. A paragraph on the front of the test booklet warned students that "levels are very large, as level 1 is 'beginner' and level 5 is 'mastery'" and instructed us to try not to overestimate our skills.
So I sat for the test in high spirits in a multicultural group of maybe 20 peers and finished in only 20 mins (the advanced students took 3 hours!) and walked home. Results posted on Monday! I don't really care where I am placed, but if I do skip a level, that's $1500 saved.
If I go straight through this program without stopping for any reason, it is possible for me to achieve the Certificate of Proficiency by the end of October 2012. At 30 hours of class per week, it will probably be the most intense period of studies I've ever undertaken. It starts next Monday at 9 AM.
I took my French placement test on Wednesday morning.
Just to see what it'd be like, since metro tickets are up to $3 this year (the most expensive in the world by a large margin), I bundled up in my ankle-length down coat, insulated Kamik snowboots, insulated gloves and a sparkly black wool scarf I knitted, wrapped three times around my face and neck so that only my eyes were showing. Armed with my iPod and paperwork (jauntily placed within my snazzy new houndstooth backpack), I set out on a 25-minute trek to McGill University; it was -16 C (3 degrees F). I wanted to see what it would be like to walk both ways in extreme weather conditions. It was fine! One moderate hill, and then a nice amble northeast up Rue Sherbrooke, past the museums, ritzy hotels and outrageously expensive clothing stores. I could easily do it every day.
I say "extreme weather conditions" in a very hopeful tone, since last February there were two mornings of -40 C (-40 F as well; this dismal point is where the two systems meet). That's beyond extreme; more like deep space-esque. I had to wear three pairs of socks, a pair of long underwear, pants, a shirt and a coat, all under a fleece blanket when I woke up those mornings before the house had been heated to a bearable 10 C (50 F).
Anyway! Enough digression, it's depressing.
So I successfully trekked to my new university, #19 in the world, and so reasonably-priced! Classes are in a high-rise tower, and I was impressed by the people I talked to. I am extremely gregarious in academic settings and anticipated the usual Montreal standoffishness, but nope, everybody responded cheerily and with much wit. Everything was in order and I seemed to be miles ahead of the other students in my program, most of whom had not been in Canada for very long and were basically frazzled tornadoes of paperwork and forms. Many Europeans, Koreans, Chinese, and quite a few Canadians from other provinces; maybe three American citizens in my placement class. I was all paid up, had my public health insurance card, passport, work permit, student permit and CAQ (permission to study full-time).
I arrived early and gave my card to the young test moderator, but told him that I was a beginner; at that moment, one of the two main French profs came in and shook my hand in such a nice, friendly way after overhearing me. He told me to come chat with him, so I followed him to his interview classroom and we talked in English and French for 15 minutes or so. He was perplexed by me. My ear is abnormally good, my reading comp and writing are both passable... My speaking is Not Good. Not my accent, which he described as "very nice," but my ability to synthesize sentences on the fly, mostly due to crippling perfectionism.
He told me I had a knack for languages (not sure what preempted this comment), and that I was across the board in all four areas. He said that true beginners are exempt from the placement test, but he told me I should go ahead and sit for it in case the results would allow me to skip a level. A paragraph on the front of the test booklet warned students that "levels are very large, as level 1 is 'beginner' and level 5 is 'mastery'" and instructed us to try not to overestimate our skills.
So I sat for the test in high spirits in a multicultural group of maybe 20 peers and finished in only 20 mins (the advanced students took 3 hours!) and walked home. Results posted on Monday! I don't really care where I am placed, but if I do skip a level, that's $1500 saved.
If I go straight through this program without stopping for any reason, it is possible for me to achieve the Certificate of Proficiency by the end of October 2012. At 30 hours of class per week, it will probably be the most intense period of studies I've ever undertaken. It starts next Monday at 9 AM.
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