From: The Physicist

A favourite Christmas comic!

Music Ed: Part 1

After discovering savefile.com I've been itching to share. I just want to share something!
So as here is a very inspirational song: Clever Not Beautiful by Hawksley Workman.
Download away: HERE! (It took me a second to sift my eyes through the advertisements and find where to actually download. Its a black/grey bar with an orange download button near the bottom of the page)

Sharks follow my trail, and it won't be long
They've fallen for the oldest trick in the book
It never goes wrong oh no
Mask and snorkel and a bottle of ketchup
Oh those desperate old sharkfins start to circle me in anger
Oh be clever not beautiful, oh be clever not beautiful
If your goal is plain survival well then be clever not beautiful
(Ha) Poets lock up your words, your tongues are all tied
Oh let read in every history book that the poets all tried to lull us
With lilting, songs of a struggle to mountain up a notion
That we were something more than animals
Be clever not beautiful, oh be clever not beautiful
If your gaol is plain survival well then be clever not beautiful
Not like your face, as you roam in the garden
Not as the earthworms gather beneath your feet
You give it all away(all away) for free
As we sun our winter bellies(winter bellies)
In your spring(yaa)
Ooh be clever not beautiful, oh be clever not beautiful
If your goal is pure survival well then be clever not beautiful
Oh be clever not beautiful oh be clever not beautiful
If your goal is plain survival well then be clever not beautiful
Be clever not beautiful
(lyrics taken from here)

I like Hawksley, a Canadian, because his lyrics are just so true. There are some lines that will stick in your head forever "Thank God you're timeless, cause my watch got stolen", or " It kind of makes you want to cry/ That a moth is not a butterfly", or " I think that ghosts like/ The cooler weather".
Plus I read an article on how he just starts playing drums, beating out a melody at the same time he carves out the lyrics. Oh Hawksley. Hes an incredible musician, singer, and lyricist. Enjoy!

Celebrations

Parties are funny things.

In kindergarten parties were for birthdays: a time to eat hot dogs (they were a treat back then) and ice cream and cake! And wear your pretty dress and play musical chairs. As I progressed through grade school, parties were still for birthdays but you didn't dress up, you started giving just money or a gift certificate, and you went bowling or did a craft. I had one friend I remember who's birthday parties actually had a shift schedule. A third of the kids downstairs playing in the unfinished basement, another third eating, and another third doing the craft. You could effectively avoid the birthday girl, if you so chose! In high school, we didn't so much "party" as we did "gather". Christine's birthday? Okay see y'all at Montana's at 7 on Saturday, okay? Hey anyone want to all meet up at Andrea's the weekend before Christmas? Cool and Dorothy please don't bring your karaoke machine! My favourite times were when six or eight of us would play taboo or cranium (Andrea and I were unstoppable. We were so good together that in a Cranium game of three teams, two teams with 4 members and Andrea and I a duo team, we still managed to clean up badly). That's kind of rare I think. A bunch of 17 year olds riotously trying to guess the name of a song somebody is humming off-tune.

Where as in high school there was often casual drinking (we're talking coolers, not vodka shots), it wasn't until university life that getting drunk was the purpose of going to a party. This seems rather silly to me. I mean here are all your friends is that all you can think of to do? Wheres the pinata guys I just want to hit a pinata! What's nice about Grebel is that though there are some pretty hammered people in the corner, most Grebel parties are just social gatherings where some people choose to not even drink at all. Actually rumor tells a tale called "the party Ed the chapel man showed up to". Umm... so much for our years of rebellious youth... But theres still Unit 36 Term parties, right? BOT, MOT, EOT? (Beginning, Middle, End of Term) (Unit 36 is an engineering house that hosts boatracing etc). Okay those are really just parties for the people who live at 36 to make money, and for underagers to not get id-ed. I went to one and it was already too immature for me to handle. I went to a really chill low-key kegger for some big world cup game, that was a lot of fun. It was good because everyone was mature enough to not act all drunk because lets face it, 80% of "drunk" people at any party are just acting drunk for attention. This party was with some upper years, so I was like "oh good, I have a cool future to look foward to, once my friende age-up a bit". But:
At halloween I went to a party that Robin's friend was hosting. Okay I would be so embarrassed if my mom was any of these women. In the skaaaankiest costumes (biker chick is a good example) and just getting shit faced! Also it was hilarious because of how awkward some people made me. Like one man telling me about his twin's positions in his wife's birth canal. Yes the term birth canal was thrown around about 10 times in that conversation. Also there was a short guy dressed elaborately in a bird costume, and some old woman kept pointing at him and telling me "you know David is rather good looking without the beak". I'm going to a Christmas party with the same group of women (they are about 50 years old but trying to be still 25) tomorrow. If any good stories happen, I'll let you know. For New Year's I'm actually continuing my gaming-party streak from high school and hoping to show case my talents at Gillian's.
I'm still excited to get back to the party hearty world of UW though. Last summer we had a Trailer Trash party (dress-up) that was pretty much the most fun party of the summer. This term there's talk of "Golf pros and tennis hoes" (to which both Laura and I exclaim "yes! i know JUST the caddy hat! oh we have the be the tennis hoes? this is dumb.") as well as "CEOs and office hoes" (again: "Haha another chance to wear those expensive interview clothes tha- darn why do the girls always have to be the hoes?"). This would be the perfect time to go off on a tangent called "At What Age Did All Females Decide They Should Wear Lingerie And Either Wings Or Animal Ears/Tail As A Halloween Costume?" but this post is long enough.
Parties are just so funny.

Me and Mr Claus

In improv zones last year, a team asked for a pivotal moment in a child's life. As a ref I absolutely adore a team who asks for something interesting for their life event because theres only so many "first break up" "first job" or "getting your drivers license" scenes you can possibly seen, especially if they all somehow end up with somebody either crying about being pregnant, or saying "but oh no! I'll never get into university now!". Some teams ask for a song title ("Whats love got to do with it" inspired the best scene about sex in high school) or a "first or last" which can easily result in 50 audience members yelling out "first braaaa" which is the worst suggestion for a scene ever. As an all girls team, we always got things like that. Luckily the refs never actually used them. Also for a life event, people ask for adverbs, themes, etc. But to ask for a pivotal moment in a child's life? Um, I don't know guys, I don't know how real you can make that scene. The life even must be played with honesty and sincerity, and watching 16 year olds pretend to be 4 often puts me in a tad of a disgruntled mood. We gave this team "finding out Santa isn't real". For the benefit of the twelve year old in the audience, I remember the head ref giving a giant wink and saying "but IIIII believe". Anyway the scene was awful. I think the team of 8 had one person be the mom, one person being the older brother who spills the beans, and the other six members being at a birthday party. By the end of the scene, even the "mom" wasn't pronouncing her Rs.
With Christmas quickly approaching, I tried to think about how I realized Santa wasn't real. What Ive come up with tells a pathetic tale, so I'll try to jolly it up for the festive season, but all in all, its a little sad!
I do NOT remember I time I believed in Santa. I have zero memories of true Christmas surprise and magic of ooh-la-la St Nick did it again! Surely there were a couple of years in my un-jaded childhood where I believed, but they have escaped my memory. And honestly folks, I'm not all that old! Every Christmas Eve, the newscast invariably reports the sound of sleigh bells on the 6 o'clock news. However, its always done with that same smirk that the head ref displayed in giving the suggestion. That "oh lets do this for the kids. Ohhhh kids. Let them have their fun" little smile. Anyone can see right through it, whether they are above or below six years old. So I think thats step one in not believing: the give away eye-contact between news anchors. Also every kindergarten class has that student who's parents don't believe in lying to their kids, so little Michelle or Andrew or somebody goes around blabbing that THEIR daddy says Santa is a load of baloney, and if you believe then you are sure getting the wool pulled over your eyes.
I also have one other very distinct memory which you'd think would come with a flood of emotions but not so, not so at all. I don't know how old I was, but on Christmas Eve I was not feeling so swell so when I saw a light on in my parents room, I went and knocked at the door. After a swell of quick-scramble noise, my oldest two siblings both peaked out of the door and said something along the lines of "Skins what the heck go back to bed don't come in just go away no don't come in". (I am called skins by my oldest sister. Or skinny. I used to be rather thin.) I never sucked my thumb or had a blankey (though I really did try to have a niy-niy like Laura), but if I did, at this point in the story I would have sucked my thumb and dragged my blankey back to bed. I fell asleep and later woke up. The light was still on in the 'rent bedroom, but the door was partially opened and I heard voices downstairs in the kitchen. I went back to my parents room and saw all the presents on the bed. I looked at one (it was a plastic piece of sports equipment, like those tennis racquet sets, or lacrosse sticks or something, you know?) and it said"To Laura, From Santa". At this point in a young child's life, this kind of discover should be drastic! Alas, no. It wasn't "Aha! I knew all along! You can't fool me, grown ups! Michelle's dad doesn't lie!". It wasn't "But why would Santa leave them upstairs??". It wasn't "Shoot, I'm going to get caught for looking better run back to bed." It wasn't "oh goodie! sneak peek of tomorrow's goodness!". It was simply, Oh, thats what Lin and Dan were wrapping. I didn't look around (that I remember). I just went back to bed and pretended to be astounded by Santa's magic the next morning. This was at Fifeshire (a street we lived on), so I had to be in at least grade 1, but if Laura was still getting plastic sports equipment, and shes three years older than me, I couldn't have been much older than grade 2.
I never had the "Mom, are you Santa?" conversation. (Probably the start of the list of things I can never ever talk about with my mom) I kept putting up the show until Lin and Dan moved out and Laura and I were in charge of doing the late night wrapping.
Its strange that this whole Santa memory is blocked because I have distinct clear visions of Laura and I unwrapping the movie Flipper in the front hall closet with the blonde girl up the street's bikini top strangely in the closet beside us. Flippers 1996 so I would only have been 9 or 10, not much older than grade 1, and this is a very clear memory.
Are you going to tell your kids about Santa or are you going to be a Michelle/Andrew's dad type parent? I don't think I'll fake a Santa. I know German people who celebrate Dec 6th and St. Nicholas' Day, and they get treats there. But pushing them in the dark either starts a relationship of untruths, or belittles their ability to rationalize. Now I'm at least 10 years away from having kids, but if I'm asking for a pivotal moment in my child's life, let it actually be pivotal.

Personal Space

Question: How do only-children EVER grow up to be sociable people?

I grew up in a very large family, the kind where your 4 year old brother puts a sibling on guard if he leaves his plate to go to the bathroom during dinner. Also, the kind where the thought-trustworthy sibling will take a chicken nugget (hey, Im still growing!). I think this fam set up has made me more adaptable than most people... its okay if your A+ test doesn't get hung on the fridge, and you don't get in trouble for finding stray cats (and naming them Sebastian, only then we find out its a girl, but decide Sebastian is a good name anyway), and the side-door shoe area is more of a huge pile including somebody's soccer cleats from three summers ago that are still muddy from that rainy semi-finals game, and occasionally grandpa's galoshes (who wears galoshes? and didn't grandpa die in grade 9?).
So for me, back in my frosh year, moving into a residence was not a big deal. The whole brushing your teeth while somebody was pooing still took a little getting used to, but I wasn't fazed by the late night ruckuses (ruckii?), or eating at tables of 8+ people, or having 12 people sit all over your bed, or all those things that usually take first years a bit o' getting used to.
However, I've lived alone in New York for almost four months now. During this time, I have been able to do what I want whenever I want. Okay except going to work, thats pretty set. But nights, weekends: all mine. If this involves reading self-help books at Barnes and Noble for four hours on a Sunday morning, so be it (thats my guilty pleasure). But both times now that I've had somebody visit I really just get high blood pressure. I don't like accommodating people, and thinking about other peoples interests and feelings. I just like being alone, running alone, watching TV alone, reading alone, eating alone... This is worrisome! I'm being a don next term which is pretty much the most time-giving job ever... oh dear! Is this feeling of me-me-me how only-children feel all the time? Because if so, I will never again get snarky at their attitude, they can hardly help it! I've been on my own four months, they've had 18 years!
I hope this is reversible!