Yup. Someone finally came out and said it. Not that i don’t deserve it and all, by my own standards i likely do, but it hadn’t happened before.

So there is going to be a hiatus of self-reflection. I started this project to force myself to write something, anything, on a pseudo-regular basis. Reading over the past year as it all blew up in my face was helpful. Lord knows what i am doing now though. It just seems so petty to be so affected by something said over The Void, but it was a sore spot anyways.

Why am i doing an honours? What is it i really want from life? Why do i associate so much with the Satyricon’s Sybil - even when things are looking better? Because i know it won’t last. It doesn’t matter how hard you try, there are things that are just impossible. I wish i had figured that out much earlier.

i had never actually babysat for kids who would go to bed before their parents got home. Now i have. I had actually not babysat since Grade 8, which is starting to quite a whiles ago. Eep.

They were very nice children: Loud, playful, child-like. It was pleasant, i ate well and got paid more than i think i deserved.

I finally looked up what is causing my right, upper eyelid to spasm sometimes:

Definition

An eyelid twitch is called a blepharospasm. It happens when your eyelid muscles repeatedly and rhythmically contract. In some instances, the eyelid may repeatedly close (or nearly close) and re-open.

Causes, incidence, and risk factors

The most common things that make the muscle in your eyelid twitch are fatigue, stress, and caffeine. Once spasms begin, they may continue off and on for a few days. Then, they disappear. Most people experience this type of eyelid twitch on occasion and find it very annoying. In most cases, you won’t even notice when the twitch has stopped.

More severe contractions, where the eyelid completely closes, are possible. These can be caused by irritation of the surface of the eye (cornea) or the membranes lining the eyelids (conjunctiva).

Sometimes, the reason your eyelid is twitching cannot be identified. This form of eyelid twitching lasts much longer, is often very uncomfortable, and can also cause your eyelids to close completely.

Symptoms

In addition to having repetitive, uncontrollable twitching or spasms of your eyelid (usually the upper lid), you may be very sensitive to light or have blurry vision.

Treatment

Eyelid twitching usually disappears without treatment. In the meantime, the following steps may help:

* Get more sleep.

* Drink less caffeine.

* Lubricate your eyes with eye drops.

If twitching is severe, small injections of Botulinum toxin can temporarily cure the spasms.

This Luther paper must be completed before 8:30am tomorrow. i still have three essential paragraphs to write and a final edit. Unfortunately, i am starting to get very attached to it and like it more and more - this is never a good sign. I always do best on papers i am uncomfortable with. Complacency breeds mediocrity. Right now, however, i am considering trying to get some professors to edit it and then i could send it off as my writing sample to certain grad schools that don’t require book reviews or research proposals in their applications (i.e. Princeton).

I work better when there is a nice smell in the room…so i am currently boiling a turkey carcass. I already made corn chowder this evening (i bought some wrong ingredients and am sure it will turn out horribly, i’ll let you know if it is a TOTAL disaster). I spent too much on groceries this week though and won’t be able to make turkey soup until next week as i require spices. sniffles. i wish i had an oven…i love the smell of banana bread.

Sorry for being an ass as usual. Pictures will be forthcoming once Lisa gets my camera back to me…and for those of you who were wondering…i wasn’t that drunk from the cocktails.

I’m reading a memoir by Nadeysha Mandelstam, wife of the most famous Russian poet of the 20th century, Osip Mandelstam entitled Hope Against Hope. She writes beautiful, has depth of perception in her analysis of what is going on in the Stalin era, and, nonetheless, is uplifting.

She conceives of memory as “a rancid pancake.” She also argues that in times of oppression, one must scream as it is the last way we have of asserting our humanity…but she writes a work with a clinical, detached tone.

I suggest it. It validates maintaining the narrative of your life. It speaks of the dangers of isolation from our fellow citizens and the reign of terror/silence. It is an odd conception in a world whereby we can be tracked electronically to our purchases, but all bombard the internet with our ill-conceived ideas and thoughts.

Today’s edition of La Presse includes an interesting article by Nicolas Berube that is pertinent to those of us who write in cyberspace. Apparently, the LAPD recently launched a myspace account to help reach its recruiting goal of one thousand new officers in the upcoming year. Unlike other myspace pages (and i really don’t like myspace, don’t expect me to be giving in to that trend anytime soon, facebook was enough of a sell-out for one year), the site does not include favourite music or films or links to YouTube videos - which is good because considering publicity the recent video of an officer beating a suspect that is still pending investigation were available on the site. It does, however, provide the user with information about police work, photographs of the police officers in action and a short video from the mayor of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa.

Apparently, the site receives about 5 to 10 emails a day from individuals looking for information about the recruiting process - but this article doesn’t provide the statistics regarding how many emails were received before the launch of the myspace site. Myspace remains the third most popular website accessed in the United States (after Yahoo! and Google), but i honestly cannot see the value of having a myspace account rather than maintaining a clear and coherent website that will also be accessible through search engines.

Individual officers have their myspace accounts and, in fact, the entire department has a blog. The main benefit of myspace, in my mind, is likely that it gives the recruiting agency something to put in their portfolio of attempts to reach a younger public without any cost…of course, how much did they guy who posted their website get paid?

What ever happened to going around to high schools and community colleges? To tables in the metro? To initiatives at government employment banks? One would imagine that it would not be THAT difficult to find people to fill shoes that pay between $52 000 and $70 000 US a year.

You can find a copy of the La Presse article here.

The LAPD’s Myspace website can be found here.

The LAPD’s blog is hosted at www.lapdblog.org.

i was asked for a Christmas list from the family…i don’t feel like writing a post, but i do feel like posting.

Expensive

Black, mid-calf boots

Digital camera

Rabbit ears (for the TV)

Mid-Range

Knife set

Spice rack

Jogging pants (no elastic on the bottom; size M)

Sweatshirt (Hoodie, NO zipper, M)

Dress Pants (size 9 at Jacob)

The Little Mermaid

Seasons 3 and 4 of the Simpsons

Polar fleece sheet set (double bed)

Copper bracelet

Cetaphil (the lotion and the soap)

One of those anti-draft things you put under the door (like Grammy’s sausage dog)

Teapot

VERY big couch pillows (small ones fall off)

Stocking Stuffer

Socks

Blank DVDs

Wine cork (for when you don’t finish, LOL)

Picture frames

Highlighters

Flag-it post-its

Scented Candles/Incense

Tea biscuits

Herbal tea (no camomile or lemon pls)

Jam

Cookies

Nuts (no peanuts pls)

CHEESE!

I am not the biggest fan of “Flanders Fields.” It rhymes too much and is too perfect. War is not perfect.

I am going to share my favourite of the World War I poems that i have encountered thus far…and yes, it has an anecdotal story attached that highlights my own pretentiousness.

DULCE ET DECORUM EST

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime . . .

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est

Pro patria mori

The title of this poem is lifted from a piece by Horace that recounts a Roman view of war: sweet and fitting it is to die for one’s country. I am currently reading a lot classical biography and i must say…it’s an ethos that pervades their literature anyways. Of course, in a world of mass warfare, honour in war is a horrific joke. I love the active present participles in the third stanza. Wilfred Owen is one of my favourite poets, among Dickinson and Rilke, and i am not an avid poetry lover. I like the instant gratification possible here. I don’t mind having to think hard about art…but i want something to egg me on…i need a carrot.

so, what’s that anecdote i teased you with? The last lines of this poem were what inspired me to look into both a liberal arts education and latin. I love Latin…it’s like crossword puzzles, but prettier. I realized that i knew nothing of this cultural heritage being railed against here by a soldier who would die before the end of the war. How could i understand this war, which at the time i was studying as best a CEGEP student can, when i couldn’t understand the background out of which it emerged…4 years later i am as hopelessly lossed as ever. But i still love this poem.

i got a pretty frantic call from me old Dad that he needs me to come and clean up the mess his short-staffedness has caused before the Christmas break. As of next week, i work on Fridays at the same place i worked all year. Just keeping you posted…

I am staying on at CIJR for Tuesdays until December.