Shanti, Shanti, and Shanti (Peace, Peace, and Peace)

I never get as much homework as I plan to on weekends. But they are ALWAYS eventful. My room can now be a hospitable place for house guests. I can see my desk and actually work on it now. Made the complete effort to attend mass and stayed for Soup and Soul afterwards, a super intersting one for me since our guest Fr. Jai gave a talk on the Indian Yoga System. It's not just a posture practice after all. There's cleansing, focus of the mind, control of breathing, stages of consciousness, sheets of the self... so much. I'm not sure that I can really call myself a yogi anymore, not until I get the whole fascinating big picture. It takes an eternity to cook meals, which is why I only do it on the weekends, and do as much as I can to make sure I can get myself through the week. Today Mom suggested Chicken Aliozcaldo, which turned out more like Lugao, but was absoulutely delicious - and I have my housemate to vouch for that as I still cannot taste everything for what it really is with my sickness. Punctuated my constant stirring of my soup with knitting, my new, obsessive hobby that Sarah has gotten me into. I'm warming up for my Thursday night shawl-making class by working on a scarf. Got a lot done this weekend, and I have to leave it at that as it is now time for serious schoolwork.

Useless?

I wouldn't say that I am boring. In fact, I know that I am not. But it does not excuse that at times I feel pathetic for someone of my young age. Like right now. My housemate boys are at what looked like an awesome kegger from the outside, but I walked the rest of the way home and am sitting on my floor drinking my last Bud Light Lime. A year ago today I would have been kicking butt at WCURCs, and could have again this year. But I'm sticking to my decision and life has changed.
Only a four day school week, but it was rather brutal juggling all the labs, midterms, and assignments while being sick a coughing up blood, so to say I survived is a feat on its own. Allowed myself a sleep-in today. Wrote my Spinning exam (definitely got at least 40/50 minimum). Took Elizabeth to the gym. Spent an eternity with Sarah at BeeHive picking out my expensive bamboo knitting supplies and wool. And, the highlight of the day: watched Harry Potter 6 at the Cinecenta while enjoying and then spilling their awesome awesome popcorn.
This was the Ultimate Day of my sickness recovery and Day 1 of finally being back to normal again.

Three Cups of Tea

It is Thanksgiving weekend and two missed ferries and three actual ferries later, Duke Point to Tswassen, Horseshoe Bay to (wherever we were), (wherever we were) to Earl's Point, Earl's Point to Powell River. Gave me lots of time to finish the book I am now recommending to you.
Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortensen and David Oliver Relin. Fantastic story of an American man who totally changes the course of his life to build schools for children in Pakistan and Afghanistan. His story is an excellent model for the change that we each can pioneer in this world, and are called to act upon. Now one of the people I would most like to meet in the world. And I completely support the view of many others that he should one day receive the Nobel Peace Prize. I hope that my life's work and my own personal story may take this sort of direction, although I cannot yet imagine the kind of selflessness and purity of heart it would take to make the kind of sacrifices and take the kind of risks that this man has had to.
Please read it for yourself: www.threecupsoftea.com

Lady in the Making

Lola Inang and Mom are going to be so proud of me when I come home in November. I can officially multitask housekeeping and kitchen duties. After returning from my single Thursday morning class with $24 dollars worth of banana bread making groceries from Thrifty's (I only had one of the 7 required ingredients you see), I proceeded to do two loads of laundry, change my bedding, hang my posters and tidy up my room, AND bake two recipes of banana bread.

The baking was the big deal for me. Physical proof that cooking is something I can manage and enjoy. What made me do it? Our Global Medical Brigades bake sale that I am manning for one hour tomorrow. My first batch was a no sugar added because I forgot to add the 1 cup of sugar, not because I intended it (that would be cruel). So those two loaves are coming with me to Powell River this weekend for Thanksgiving with the B.C. portion of the Laquian family.

The second batch will be consumed by hungry and stressed students tomorrow, as it is the heat of midterm season right now. That one I forgot to line the pan with butter on, but it was effortless to pry out. So overall, a success. And the housemates love their share, so I feel good.

Although my homemaking self was productive, my student self was not really. I napped. Did not go to the gym due to the inability to escape certain seeking coaches and athletes. Dropped my iPod in the middle of the McKenzie intersection when I was running across over the last 10 seconds of the crosswalk. Read my Three Cups of Tea (non-academic textbook) during work. Transcribed half of my cellular physiology notes while talking to my mother and sipping my 3.00 London Fog in the biblioteque. Taking 1 hour to get to Brit's truck to get us home because we missed our second bus and walked all the way from Hillside up Shelbourne to McKenzie, with a stop at Tim Horton's on the way. I am getting better. My grades are proof of that. But this entire week has been characterized by consecutive nights of short sleep punctuated by one of decent sleep. It's the life of a student, I suppose. I've just never truly had to subject myself to it until now.

Yes. I. Can.

A little twist on the Yes.We.Can. phrase that seems to be popping up everywhere as a way of empowerment. By everywhere I mean Jane Gooddall's lips at We Day Van and on a poster in the UVic Access Office. So it looks like it can be done. Surviving classes. Studying often and well. Attending a club meeting. Getting a workout in. All while remaining on campus all day, and packing enough to not go hungry or insane.

The only downer was having to call Brit to pick me up from the bus stop, where I was freezing in my gym t-shirt and shorts, waiting for the bus that would inevitably be 20 minutes late. A colossal waste of an hour, well, not really. I studied some more.

Because I had no pockets on my sweat-drenched, and thus freezing, t-shirt, I used my shoes to transport my iPod, flashcards, and muffin (eww, I know - it was wrapped well ok!). I guarded them with my life.

The Verdict

Remeber way over a month ago when I "sprained" that pinky? First, I was told at Health Services that it was just a sprain that would take several weeks to heal and that I would no longer need to tape it. Three weeks later, I was seen by another two doctors in one session, as my poor little pinky was rather swollen and obviously crooked (not so good for progress). I was given the go ahead for an x-ray which brought me to today.
Apparently, I had broken my finger, but it has healed incredibly well given the circumstances. Now I have a beatiful copy of the x-ray to study my bone modification section of anatomy with.
It's probably far too late to file an incident report at work, now that I finally know what really happened to me. I'm just thankful I did not have to get the little digit reset. Not the kind of painful study I had in mind to follow the ones I have already subjected myself to so far.

My cafe mocha and sudden overt-alertness may actually get me through my cramming for a midterm tomorrow. I do not know how I managed to be like this last year while rowing. I also don't know what I'm trying to prove here at university. I'm certainly not just along for the ride. This has got to be meant for something.

Day of Unrest

I believe the trend with me is that I only take a nap once a week. It is a one hour nap. And it occurs on Saturday sometime between noon and 5pm. I have easily let my friends convince me that Friday night and Saturday must NOT be days of homework.

So today is my day of unrest. And it starts when I sign-off. Somehow I must attempt to do a bit of everything in every course today. But the priorities will be those with midterms and pertinent labs, which narrows it down to 4 courses of 6.

So remain uninterested in how my day may unfold here. There will be a trip back to Inner Harbour to find a birthday present for my mom, maybe pick up those boots I eyed yesterday, and see if my favourite Craft Market has not closed up for the fall yet.

Otherwise, here's some pics of Beacon Hill Park, where I had an awesome , healthy picnic with my volunteer companion yesterday. The last time I was in this exact area was my first time taking the bus last year from downtown home. I went the wrong way, then got lost. At Beacon Hill.

I've also decided that I actually take most meats medium, not medium rare as I had thought. It was not you, The Keg, it was me this time.

Just Another Lab Rat

I participated in another lab study again. Subject 12 is my title. However, this time it was not invasive - no muscle taken from my quads that I will never get back. No scars to remember the process by, only a long-sleeve tee from the RehabNeuroLab at UVic.
It was a success. Certainly uncomfortable at times; time really does seem to stand still over 7 minute intervals where every second is calculated and punctuated by nerve stimulation of both of your soleus' (the muscle running underneath your gastrocnemeus, the calf).
My advice: probably not a good idea to go and attempt hot yoga later in the day after your leg muscles have been overstimulated for 40 minutes. Don't be surprised when your legs fail you.

The many things, like this study, that I have been getting myself into and putting myself through over my time as an undergrad. certainly characterize my attribute of being a wanderer.
But I'm really feeling the pressure and angst now to figure myself out. Who do I want to be? Where I am going? Because my life right now has a very unknown path. I have no idea what I'm setting myself up for. And although it should be exciting to let everything fall where it may, I cannot shake the senses of doubt and failure that certain individuals have been throwing my way.

I also can't help but feel that I really am "getting older" now, that life with all its inconsistencies, let-downs, anguish, and brutality is starting to rear its head. Friends moving. Friends dying. Friends lost. Tough love. Grudges. Enemies. Why? I'm learning how to deal.