First, Doug's father died last week, so drop in there and tell him you love him.

A year ago this morning, my Uncle Herman killed himself. I can't really say it's gotten any easier to deal with. I think my immediate family has dealt with it pretty well. We've talked about it a lot, and shared good stories and anger and tears. As for my extended family, well... they've always been a rather tight-lipped lot. I can't say communication has gotten any better, though it looked like it might go that way at first. Frankly, I'm disappointed in most of them—I really hoped that we would become open with each other. Maybe I shouldn't expect people to change overnight, but I guess I had hoped that we could have used this as the kick in the pants that we needed. Instead, depression seems to be just as taboo as ever, and the phrase "car accident" has been floating around to describe my Uncle driving his car 120 km/hr into the river with the windows down. We linguists refer to that sort of nonsense as a euphemism, which is a phrase designed to soften meaning (see also: passed away, is indisposed, etc.).

One of the more frustrating things about a suicide is that you're so angry with the person who did it. I mean, I know a ton of people who have died of cancer, and any one of them would have given anything for the level of health that my Uncle had, but they died fighting and he just drove in the river. It's unfair. And then you go to the funeral and the place is PACKED and you think, Wow, you were an idiot. Look at all these people here, and you could have gone to any one of them for help, but you just quit. And then you miss the guy like crazy and wish he was still around, and watch so many people miss him, and you just want him back, so you're stuck wanting to hug him and slap him all at the same time.

It stays sad for a long time and there's a lot of regret. My uncle carved songbirds really well. In a little while, my cousin is going to give my Dad one of the birds, and that's great, my Dad is really happy to get one, but he doesn't really want a BIRD, he wants his BROTHER, and that's a rather shitty compromise.

Maybe it seems strange to mark a day like this with an angry posting, but I've learned that when it comes to suicide, anger is one of the best (and only) ways of expressing your love for the person. I miss him and it's his fault and it's hard to reconcile the two emotions sometimes.

So What Can I Do?: MIND your health

Chad, Trevor, Doug: I'm at my parents' place, call me.

Well, I've been to Janice's convocation and hung out with her and Mike, and tomorrow morning they will begin their drive to Prince George. Today was cool, I'll post some pictures once I'm in the same city as my computer again. Queen's University is so pretty—even their brand new buildings are much more beautiful than the concrete jungle at York.

I got a anonymous comment on an older entry of my blog today. Here's an excerpt:

This should be my last week on effexor but I am scared to get off the 37.5. I have read all the scary stuff about what happends when you get off of it. I expericed the withdrawl sympthoms once when wallgreens.com didn't send me my medicine (which they do automaticly). It was horrbile it was like the flu times a million and I got those "brain shocks" yuck!! But so far coming off the medicine slowly has been fine, so maybe I will be ok getting off of the 37.5. Also, I don't know if this has happend to you? But I gained 50lbs on effexor. And I am extremly active and I only eat orgainic natual food. That has been the worst part of effexor. I was a size 2 and now I am a size 10!! I had to buy all new clothes! I am hoping it will go away when I am finally off. I am getting a trainer at my gym this summer to get rid of it. But I feel for you about being on effexor. As much as I hate the drug, it did help me pull out of my depression. Since I have been on it I have been very happy.

Interestingly, this is a side effect I just noticed. Yes, I have gained 30 pounds in the last 2 months (or less, I wasn't checking). Who knows if I will gain more? It's really very hard to say. I haven't changed my eating habits or my (non-existent) exercise habits. Hopefully I won't keep gaining; this is startling enough already. This is really the first time in my life that I have ever considered trying to lose weight. It's a bit weird. It's okay—in fact, I was at the lowest weight I'm comfortable with a couple of months back, so I don't mind being above that, but 30 pounds in 2 months is quick.

I'm not sure if my anonymous commenter will check back, but I got off the 37.5 by taking one a day for a week and then one every other day for a couple of weeks and then stopping, so maybe that would be good to try if you have crazy withdrawal symptoms.

My side-effects included:
- vivid dreams (a few months at a time, not throughout),
- night sweats (ditto),
- dizziness (just for the first week or so),
- exhaustion,
- mental health.
Withdrawal symptoms have included:
- dizziness (as I ramped down, and tapering off for a few weeks after that),
- night sweats (ditto),
- vivid dreams (ditto),
- wicked headaches at night (ongoing),
- weight gain (30lbs so far),
- LOTS of appetite and cravings.

There may be more that I'm forgetting, or things that have been bothering me that I haven't yet realised are connected to the drug. Compared to many others, I've had a pretty easy time getting off of it. All in all, it's a pain in the ass, but really worth it. I can deal with headaches and a bit more tummy if it means I'm not paranoid and depressed. That deal is in my favour, as far as I'm concerned.

Yesterday, Chris and I took advantage of the beautiful weather and visited Riverdale Farm downtown. Some obligatory photos (don't be alarmed by the sheer attractiveness of the creature petting the Jersey cow—it's a natural reaction, but you'll recover):



It's pretty nice, although a little startling in that it has the cleanest barn in all of Ontario. That thing is sterile. It's a little bit unnerving to a country girl like me. I did hear some kids exclaiming that the cows were stepping in poo, isn't that gross and unnatural! City kids, pfft. ;) Before I lived in Toronto, I never realised that there were all these pretty spots in the downtown core. Toronto is secretly home to a lot of nature, which I appreciate.

Beside the farm is a large Necropolis/Cemetery, and there's this little chapel thing in it:


It's pretty, and we figure the people with their names engraved in there must have been stinking rich, so ... yeah. The cemetery is big and pretty and has lots of neat trees and has the remains of William Lyon Mackenzie (WLM King's grandfather). Lots of fathers of Confederation and "revolutionaries," and a bunch of other dead white people.

Dune (the previously unnamed kitten) has a pretty bad cold, so we brought him into the vet and consequently missed the fireworks. He's worth it though, check it out (and please note the "Kitten: It's What's For Dinner!" pose):


Also, tonight was a startlingly cool sunset. This was the view from my apartment:

Slippers for Janice:


And for Mike (the lucky fiancé!):


The yarn was left over from the blanket, and the green was dyed this past week. Janice's are bigger (Ms. 11.5-size foot!), so that's why the top comes closer to the ankle on my (size 10) feet. I realised when making Janice's first slipper that I wouldn't have enough green to finish them, so I came up with this mix 'n match idea, which turns out to be rather cute for an engagement present. It's all the joy of his and hers without the pink. :)

I've been reading through my copy of Vogue Sewing and they seem to be under the impression that there are no female humans over 5'6". Their petites are shorter than that, Misses' patterns are for 5'4" to 5'6", and Women's patterns are for the same height but bulkier. WTF? Where's the love for the 5'10" women? I call discrimination.

Okay, on to the cuteness that resides in Chris's humble apartment.

The little itty bitty kitty:


Metro Schmetro, Cutie Patootie:

Well, York has finally posted our grades, and I got straight As this semester (Phonology; Syntax; Ideology & Everyday Life; Sexuality, Gender, and Society). It's pretty much what I expected, though Phonology might have gotten bell-curved because I was hanging around a 78% for most of the semester. This means good things for grad school applications!

In other news: I crocheted two full pairs of green and blue slippers today and just about ran out of yarn. However, they are done and are cute and are part of a larger engagement present for Janice and Mike. They won't be checking this site until after they move to Prince George, so I'm not too worried about posting that here, pre-present-giving.

I'm going to Brockville this coming weekend, arriving on Thursday and leaving on Sunday. Holly: I probably can't play on Thursday night, as that's my only time with Janice and Mike, but perhaps Sunday afternoon? Doug, Chad, Trevor: I fully expect a rendez-vous at some point. Friday/Saturday/Sunday, it's your call. Who else is left in Brock Vegas? I have no idea.

Oh, and did you all know that Edward Skelton Jr. is getting married next month? THAT is going to be a riot. I'm inclined to go simply for having the pleasure of Tyson's sarcastic company for a day. :) It'll be a strange mix of old roommates, EBC alumni, and Brockvillians. Also, if I go, it will mean TWO weddings on bible college premises in one month (the other is at Tyndale, Ms. Rachel Carson soon-to-be Boadway). I'm beginning to doubt that there will be alcohol at either wedding. If I ever get married, rest assured, there will be no shortage of drinks. Heck, even if I have to hire Jesus to come and ad-lib something with the water, there will be alcohol.

Happy Victoria Day (tomorrow) everyone, here's hoping that it doesn't rain on our fireworks!

Oh, and a further question for the home crew: what is typical Dutch food? Other than boerekool? Or dropjes or ollie bollen? And is everyone aware of the pure evil it takes to fill a candy bowl with jujubes, remove the black ones, replace them with salty dropjes, and then offer them to unsuspecting non-Dutch neighbours?

So, I was talking to Ryan the other day and he made some crack about my last grammar-centric post and then begged me to clarify the I/me confusion rampant in the world. So, here goes:

Once upon a time, English was born. Its parents were Germanic, and so was English. Now, it is a long-standing tradition in the Germanic family to mark case¹ but English was a lazy child, prone to frolic with languages from many distant lands, steal their vocabulary, and forget all the wonderfully complex rules that he² was taught at home. One of the rules that English liked to skimp on was that of case-marking.

Now, let's discuss a very simple sentence that is often referred to in linguistic textbooks:
The dog bit the cat.

Tell me, who bit whom³? You, because you are familiar with English, know that the dog did the biting and the cat was bitten. However, there is nothing inherent in the words to indicate that. This is because we indicate nominative (the biter) by putting it before the verb, and the accusative (the bitten) by putting it after the verb. In German, on the other hand, order is not so important as the preposition, which is marked with case. Observe:
Der Hund beißt den Mann. The dog bites the man.
Den Mann beißt der Hund. The dog bites the man.

So, you can see that "der" indicates nominative and "den" indicates accusative. Whether "der Hund" appears before or after "den Mann", "der Hund" is biting rather than being bitten.

English used to work this way too, and we have a remnant of this case marking on our pronouns:
1st person singular: I (Nominative), Me (Accusative)
2nd person: You (case is lost here)
3rd person masculine singular: He (Nominative), Him (Accusative)
3rd person feminine singular: She (Nominative), Her (Accusative)
1st person plural: We
2nd person plural: You
3rd person plural: They

Now, on to Ryan's pet peeve. It is commonly said that one should never say "Michelle and me," but "Michelle and I." This is true in certain linguistic situations. If Michelle and yourself are performing the action in the verb (for example, biting), then you should go with "Michelle and I" because "I" is nominative and you are doing the biting. However, if Michelle and yourself are having the action done to you, then "I" would be erroneous, and "me" would be correct. So:
Michelle and I bit into our apples. (GOOD)
A boy started talking to Michelle and me. (ALSO GOOD)⁴
*⁵Michelle and me thought he was pretty cute. (NO!)
*He tried to borrow an apple from Michelle and I. (NO!)

If you get confused, think of it these simple examples:
I saw you. (good)
*Me saw you. (bad!!)
You saw me. (good)
*You saw I. (bad!!)

Now, my dear readers, go forth and sin no more.

1. Nominative/accusative in this family, we'll have none of that absolutive/ergative nonsense here!
2. Ask any feminist—English is male.
3. Yes, keeners, good for noticing: 'who' is nominative, and 'whom' is accusative. So, "who are you?" is good because the 'who' stands for the 'I' in the answer ("I am some random grammar-obsessed girl"), and "whom did you speak with?" is good because 'whom' stands for the accusative someone in the answer ("I spoke with Ryan"). However, "*whom are you?" and "*who did you speak with?" will get you kicked in the balls by a grammar queen, so if you're going to dare, you should either be a) female, or b) crossing your legs.
4. Compare: "A boy started talking to me." and recall the previous entry on adjuncts.
5. In linguistics, anything that is prefaced by a * is wrong, bad, or impossible.

The other day, I said to my lovely roommate Kathy, "I predict that within a month, Chris will have another cat." Well, this morning my boyfriend emailed me all sheepish like, and guess what? Christopher, love of my life, you are so addicted to kitties! :)

Metro, a little apprehensive:


Ta-da! Christopher holding up his new prize possession:


Metro keeping an eye on the youngun:


Ooh, someone discovered the (chewed and battered) mousie...


Tonight is reserved for playing with kitties, yay!

First, the two bags:

My first sewing project ever, a Jordy bag made out of t-shirt material:


Next, another of the same pattern, but with much funkier material (found cheap at The Clothing Show) and two less mistakes:


Yep. Sewing is the new addiction. :)

Next, a small grammar lesson for you all, courtesy of pestering by Meredith and Joyce. Q. Which is correct: "there is an apple and two oranges on the table" or "there are an apple and two oranges on the table"? The first is correct, for the following reason:



Quite simply, the verb usually gains person (1st, 2nd, 3rd/none) and number (singular/plural in English, other languages also have dual) from the subject. Example: I am (1sg), she is(2sg), they are(3pl). However, "there" is a dummy subject and doesn't carry any person or number information, so the verb looks to the next element down to steal these attributes from. This leaves us with the phrase in the object position, "an apple and two oranges". Now, this phrase is complex in a way that is explained in the diagram above, in that "and two oranges" can be chopped off of the sentence and it still makes grammatical sense ("There is an apple on the table."). "An apple" is the head of the phrase, and "two oranges" are adjoined to it with use of the "and". Adjuncts are always easily gotten rid of, and if getting rid of them makes for bad grammar then they're either not really adjuncts or your grammar was bad in the first place. ("On the table" is another adjunct, and thus I'm not addressing it here.) Anyways, the verb looks to "an apple" for number and person, and settles on 3sg. If the phrase were flipped, it would look to "two oranges" for this information, see that it is 3pl, and the sentence would be "There are two oranges and an apple on the table."

Have I mentioned that I'm thinking of not becoming a Linguistics prof? It's a pity that I like explaining such tedious things so much.

(Those flowers smell good! in Frisian, a culture which accounts for a quarter of my genes, and half of Chris's.)

The entry to the Commons at York:

Another tree on the Commons:


Waiting for the bus just got a whole lot more bearable:

Flowers near Steacie:

Flowers by the Curtis building:



Gosh, I love springtime, especially with a digital camera.

I spent a bunch of time tonight reading through some Tyndale blogs (here's the Tyndale Xanga ring). Tyndale University College & Seminary, the 2nd bible college I went to and the workplace of one of my roommates, and I do not hold similar views anymore. Strangely, I find myself more at ease with the writings of people like Kyle Pitman, someone who was part of a group of guys that I never connected with at all (partially because they acted like idiots all year, and partially because the girls and guys didn't really hang out except when hunting marriage partners in the Kat at night), than with those of people whose faith is more similar to what I used to have. Pitman's entry about promise rings was most excellent, I must say. :) Also, whoever is pretending to be Dr. Jon Ohlhauser deserves a cookie. That's some funny shit. One day they have him listening to Snoop Doggy Dog, another day he's listening to kd lang. Beautiful.

"Just gotta keep trusting God in all thigns. One thing I'm trying to do is meditate on the Word everyday until I get a word from the Lord - let the Bible directly impact my daily life. Sometimes it's tough, but it is always very rewarding at night as I fall asleep thinking about it." (Marina Hofman)

Yeah, I don't do that anymore. I haven't read the Bible in... geez, I don't even know how long it's been. And I haven't read it looking for direction or truth in over a year and a half. Heck, for a lot of my current friends, the whole "getting a word" theme is barely even English. My boyfriend thinks Christians are super-strange because of things like communion—how am I supposed to explain "getting a word" to him? Of course, I don't have to, since it has nothing to do with my life anymore.

"At that point I understood with an experiential understanding why the Incarnation is part of the Gospel, a crucial part. God, veiled in flesh...so close we can see and touch Him. Christ is pleased to to dwell with us, as us. When we see Christ in His Word, in the Sacraments and in each other, Jesus is close indeed. As you can imagine this revelation left me feeling fairly close to Jesus. As I walked the halls of the supermarket, I was elated. I felt a joy that hadn't been there in a while. As I was making my purchase I was so distracted by this joy and communion with Chrsit that I had to literally "shake my self out of it" in order to pay for my food.

As I left the store, however, I saw some people standing around who were my age. They were out to have a good time. From what I gathered about their conversation I could tell that they weren't up to any good. I was immediately jealous. I felt like I wanted to join them. I forgot in literally 2 seconds what I had known just then. This seems to be the theme of my life. I'm very distractable and fickle, spiritually speaking. It's so easy jsut to forget everything that is eternally significant and trade it all for "Good times and noodle salad." I want this to stop more than you could know." (Tom Skerritt)

I remember that feeling. I remember that elation, and that distraction, and that guilt. I remember that dissatisfaction with myself and my brain and my "fickleness." Tom, you crazy boy, it's okay to want to hang out with people and have fun. We can't be focussed on the grand ultimate meaning of life, the universe, and everything twenty-four hours a day. We would never sleep, or eat, or notice how all the trees are in bloom this week. The human race would die out, dude—there's no way you can get it on while dwelling on shit like that.

"I still can't get out of my mind prophesies that have been told about me (a while ago) One of them was that God wanted me to be in His presence more (I'm guessing that means recognising I'm in His presense) so He can give me something. I have no idea if that means I've already received some of it, the whole thing, not at all, or just a little bit of it, I have NO idea. I'm just exicted for it. Just knowing that God has something He wants to give me is astonishing! But yeah, I feel like I'm almost scared of REALLY being in God's presence. Not that I'd feel guilty, (because I've had it where the Holy Spirit would let me know what I've done wrong and I'd cry and cry for at least an hour until I feel I'm done and can continue) but that feeling God would be overwhelming. I know I've had brief encounters, and they've only been good, but I'm actually scared of it being more, but I want it to be more at the same time. I don't know what I'll feel, what I'll do, I don't want to mis-interpret Him in any way. I want to get what He really means 100%.

Yeah, praying will help and giving the effort will for sure. Something else I've learned is that with the "identity in Christ thing" I now not only have that little bit of hope, I also have a little bit of bravery, patience, and trust, but lot's of love and perserverance. Right now, I know it's only the beginning, but I really want things to florish, and faster especially because I've found that I'm more immature than I thought I was- but I know it's ok. I will get there." (Emily someone)

And I remember being scared of God, scared of messing up, scared of being overwhelmed, scared of what I would feel. I remember reassuring myself that I was still in process, that I would "get there" someday. Now I don't believe in "there", I think that the dissatisfaction created by such religion is actually inherent to the system. So long as you're doubting yourself, you'll never doubt the system, natch.

To come to the point, I don't miss Jesus anymore. It seems strange to say that I ever missed something that I don't believe exists, but there you have it. Whether there was a historical Jesus or not, by now he would have rotted and become worm feces, dirt, trees, fruit, other humans (how's that for reincarnation?)... I don't really care whether he existed or not. I don't care whether the Bible was copied accurately or not. You could accurately copy stories of Kim Jung-Il's birth from now until the sun goes super-nova, and it wouldn't make them any less full of shit. I just don't think about Jesus on a daily basis anymore. I always feared this, thought it would make me suicidal. What the hell would be the point of living if my life didn't revolve around Jesus, I wondered. And you know what? I'm happier.

I don't think there's an Ultimate Reason for anything, and I find that strangely liberating. I don't live my life anxious that I might make a wrong turn and mess up God's Will For My Life™. I make choices based on what I like, what fits me, what I'm comfortable with, not based on vague "words" or feelings. I like George Carlin's version of the (Revised) 10 Commandments much better:

1. Thou shalt always be honest and faithful to the provider of thy nookie.
2. Thou shalt try real hard not to kill anyone, unless of course they pray to a different invisible man than you.

Funny, I intended to write an entry tonight on how well things are going these days—how happy I am lately—but then I got to reading all these other blogs and xangas, and well.. see what happened? But here's the mini-version: I'm in love, I'm discovering that I'm more creative than I ever knew, I have good friends, I'm at peace (ooh, Christianese!), and I've decided that spring is my favourite season because of things like the trees at York this week:


Next week: lilacs! Yes!!

So, the frames are thin, but the lenses are super-thick. Even high-density lenses don't get thin when you've got a -8.0 prescription. So, I think they look kind of weird from the side, but other than that I like them.

I went to visit my friends Aaron and Vanessa on the weekend in Niagara Falls, and this is their adorable kitten, Casper:

He's a cutie, and he has lots of little spots on his side, like a little tiny not-so-dangerous leopard.

I also crocheted a blanket for Chris's mom's birthday:

That yarn was all grey to start with, and Chris and I dyed it with food colouring. More details in my post about it on craftster.org. I got it from Romni's on Queen Street, and my friends... the basement is a friendly place in that yarn store. I got over 16 skein's worth of pure lambswool for under fifteen bucks.

Oh, and this counter? Piece of crap goes up everytime you click to see the comments or the archives or anything else on my site. I'm going to have to find something else, something that doesn't LIE.

I am the first result for a Google search of buechner+shit. That, my friends, is funny. Clearly my purpose in life has been fulfilled. :) Also #1 for dani coutu. Careful, Dani, there are stalkers about. Why anyone is searching for "heather ann kaldeway and 2005" is beyond me... the "and" is COMPLETELY unnecessary, and the 2005..?!

Seriously though, I put up a counter for my site yesterday afternoon and it's already at 131. Even with my own reloading of my page because I use it for the links half the time, that's a lot of people. More than I thought.

Three things:
1. This morning's shower was the "whoa, this hair is so short, it is weird to wash it" one, and those are always fun in a disconcerting way.
2. New glasses tomorrow! From an Asian man who repeatedly told me that my prescription was strong, like really strong, like "you can't even READ!" strong. Yes, my friends -7.5/-8.0 is STRONG. Things are clear for about 2 inches on a good day. But tomorrow, new glasses, and they are rumoured to be sexy and 100% less of a pain in the ass than contacts are.
3. I am going away to Niagara Falls for the weekend, to visit some friends from Kitchener, whose wedding I was in a few years back. It was outside and I got to go barefoot. Brides who don't make me buy expensive crazy shoes = good friends.

I'm cheap enough that I'll risk cutting my hair by myself instead of wandering downstairs and trusting the hair salon there enough to pay them $28 to mess up my hair. (It would only be $18 if I had a penis, but that's a rant for another time.)

So, before:



And after (wet hair in 1 & 2, dry hair in 3):



Everytime I cut my hair short, I have the sinking feeling that I look like the crazy Irish guy from Braveheart ("It's my island!"):


Oh well. I like the Irish. Or do I just like Bailey's? It's hard to tell sometimes.

So, Chris has this cat:

And wow, how super-cute is he? But I'd like you to notice something about his nose. See the black spot? Yeah, that's not black fur, this kitty has black skin and pink skin. In fact, you can't see it very well in this picture, but he has the equivalent of eye-liner on the top of his right eye. This isn't just limited to his head, check out the toes:

Black and white skin! This kitty has spots on his skin, not just on his fur. So, I recalled this other tidbit:

Giant pandas have two different colors of fur - black and white. Under the black fur is gray skin and under the white fur is pink skin. (source)

and that got me to wondering... does he have black skin under all his black hair, and pink skin under all his white hair? We could only ever find out if we shaved him. (We've tried looking, but his fur is so thick that you can't see any skin between it.) However, if we shaved him and then kept him warm with a kitty sweater, apparantly his fur would grow back white and change colour later.

This Siamese cat, raised in a cold environment in Moscow in the late 20s, developed a relatively dark coat. An area on his shoulder was shaved, and the cat wore a warm jacket while the fur was growing back. When the shaved hair grew back in, it was white, the same color as the cat's belly, due to the increased temperature under the jacket. This was not due to scarring, as the hair grew in normally colored later. (source)

Isn't that odd? They also note that you only ever find two-colour cats with white on bottom and black on top, never the other way around. I can see how that would be valuable from an evolutionary "let's hide from predators and prey" sort of way, and it's very interesting. Maybe if we keep the kitty cold all the time, he will become a black kitty. Or we could cuddle with him all the time and keep him super-warm, and then he will become an albino with eyeliner -- he would be the feline equivalent of Michael Jackson!

P.S. Brand new glasses on Thursday, so excited!