Phantom Update

Okay, so the phantom didn't come back last night. Too bad, I had a little jab, reverse, jab, reverse, roundhouse kick prepared for it! I was so excited about fighting the ghost, I had a hard time getting to sleep!

I scored a free file cabinet last night. This is useful, because, in the move, my family saved my files, but lost my file cabinet. Unfortunately, my old files are too large for the new cabinet. Fortunately, the new cabinet has it's own files! Time to get filing!

I put the new cabinet in the room I'd be most inclined to haunt, if I were a ghost. Seems like the ghost wants to haunt the bathroom, but I think that's probably just a red herring. Why would anyone want to haunt a bathroom? I put it in the cold room, where it probably ACTUALLY haunts. Take that ghost, I'm messing with your world now, aren't I?!

I made bread today. One loaf is a cheese bread, and one will go to the teacher from my old school, who I still haven't seen yet. I'm not giving her the cheese one, though, just on the off-chance she and everyone else I've given bread to get together and compare notes, and they find out she got better bread.

My recipe says it makes four loaves, but it actually makes five. We need another bread pan.

A little while ago, we made empanadas. In Katimavik, empanadas were one of my four favorite meals: homemade pizza, chicken dinner, butter chicken, and empanadas. There was also a curry that was really good, but we had so many different kinds, I'll never isolate what that one particular kind was. Anyway, the empanadas weren't my recipe, and we didn't know how to make them, so we looked up a recipe, but they turned out great! As good as the ones I had in Katimavik. Turns out they're real simple, and we've had them again since then.

I'm probably getting together with another old friend this Tuesday. Spoke to him today.

So, if you start Katimavik and drop out, then you can never reapply. For this reason, I was a little worried that, if I got slated into a group in CWY and I said no thanks, that might mean that I dropped out, meaning I could never do the program. So instead of officially canceling the process, I decided to just not complete my application until the danger of being selected for a current group passed. Well, guess what happened? I just got an email saying that CWY has approved my medical file! Uh-oh. Time to get a little more assertive.

Equinox, Karate, Crazy Dream

On September 23rd, which was last Thursday, it was the night of the equinox. On September 22nd, on my way back home, having screwed up the bus system, winding up ten minutes late for karate, and after backing out, not wanting to be late on my first day back, I was approached by a woman downtown, who told me that tomorrow, there would be the largest full moon of the year, that it had some kind of Native relevance, and that if I wanted, I should Google "September full moon" for more information. I did that, and it turned out to be the equinox. I think it may also be the Pagan Autumn Solstice. I think there are four: one for the longest day, one for the longest night, and one on either equinox.

From my understanding, an equinox is when the Earth's axis is balanced, so that neither day nor night is longer. In the case of the Autumn equinox, this means that, the next day, the night would be longer than day. For the Spring equinox, it's the opposite.

Grandma just sent me an email, with an explanation of it's spiritual significance toward humans:

"the Autumnal Choice: to disintegrate with the falling leaves, oriented toward inevitable decay, or to participate in the formation of seeds, foundations for a future cycle of vegetation; seeds that are "oriented toward the sacrificial rite of germination, the rebirth of life forms....Leaf decay and seed-rebirth. It is for human beings to choose the current to which they are drawn."

That's not bad. I went back to karate on the night of the equinox with this in mind, even though I wouldn't get this email for two more days. Probably just coincidence. I had fairly concrete reasoning not to go... They keep your time "banked" until the first day you start back, so after the first day, the time for what you paid for is ticking. Were I to go to CWY after restarting Karate, I'd spend most of what's been paid not practicing.

And then I only decided not to do CWY, and stay here to support my family the day before my birthday, and I didn't want to start a workload on my birthday. Then I screwed up the bus schedule and had to come back the next day. When I heard about the equinox, I took it as a positive omen because I was seeking positive omens.

So unfortunately I'm going to say this doesn't confirm that I'm super-aligned with the cosmos or anything.

Going back to Karate was pretty sweet. I thought I would have forgotten a lot more. It was a self-defense class. I already have my red stripe for yellow defense (I've accomplished the self-defense requisites of my current belt rank), but I though I'd have to basically start again from the beginning of this belt. But once I got in there and had some practice, I was performing perfectly. I certainly wasn't at that level at my first yellow defense class! I think it will take a couple more classes to drill them all the way back into my brain, but that's fine... I have more than a couple yellow defense classes before I grade for my next belt!

I was complimented the whole lesson, on my speed, technique... They told a guy who was on his first day that I was notorious in the dojo for putting people to the test during self-defense classes, I was told I was ten times more explosive than before I left, and people kept talking about how much weight I lost.

What's the deal with this? It's not just the dojo. Everyone who sees me keeps exclaiming about my weight loss. I was never under the impression that I was overweight. In Katimavik, there was no real dietary regularity, because what we ate was dependent on who was House Manager, and there was no regularity in exercise, either, because whatever exercise we got was dependent on the activities we were doing. Still, it's hard to ignore that I've dropped two pants sizes...

Anyway, even if I was doing well, I was still pushed to my limit, breaking once on the plank and not managing to do 30 push-ups without breaking form, and now, two days later, I'm more sore than Katimavik ever made me. I don't know how I'm so much more fit, coming back from Katimavik, when I had these lessons before, and not during. It wasn't even a particularly harsh lesson. It was a little on the easy side, because there was a new guy.

But I'm a good kind of sore... Having gone through the lull of post-Katimavik stagnancy, it feels good to be able to throw yourself at something with all your heart, to be able to fight toward a goal, and give everything you have.

There was a disappointingly low number of old faces... Most of the instructors I'd seen at the Stag & Doe were there... There was an instructor I hadn't seen since before, and there was one old student. And there were a number of new blackbelts. The four old students you could count on to attend every lesson back in the old day were not there. I was the lowest-ranked person, except for the new guy. I think everyone except me and new guy were at the midway point or higher, and I think there was a majority of blackbelts vs any other kind of belt.

Wait... Wait...

There were eight students. Two green advances, two yellows, one white, three blackbelts. I got confused because the instructors participated. There were two instructors, and there were four blackbelts in the room next door.

So there! I was wrong about a blackbelt majority among students, but there were five non-blackbelts and nine blackbelts practicing in the dojo.

Oh, andI found out something interesting. You probably don't remember me complaining that first-degree blackbelts get a white stripe down the centre of their belt, so you actually need to get your second degree before you get a solid black one. Well, it turns out, I was mistaken. They give you a white stripe down the centre if you're a blackbelt who is under the age of sixteen! It has nothing to do with degrees.

They have a third dojo, now. I forget if I said this before, but the dojo used to be split in two, with one major dojo, and one minor. Well, now they have another minor. They also have classes every weekday, whereas before it was three, then four, and also, they offer free sword classes, in addition to bo, for people who obtain a high enough belt rank.

I'm going to change the conversation now. Our neighbours moved away today. That's sad. One of them was a child that reminded me of my younger brother when he was a child. And when my brother was around, he took on the role of big brother with this kid. It was really neat to see.

I also think this place is haunted, or I'm going crazy. I keep having incredibly vivid dreams that, while in the dream, I'll ask myself if they're real, since the events seem so unlikely, and I've got this... uncanny sensation, but I'm also self-aware enough that "dream sense" (the feeling that things make sense in the dream, even if they don't upon waking) doesn't apply. I'll be real thorough. I'll check that every one of my senses is functioning, I'll check the depth of my memories, and I'll check my time-perception. I'll find that everything is in working order, and conclude that this is not a dream. But later on, I'll wake up.

Last night I had a dream that someone was talking to me while I tried to sleep. I did my dream-test, found I was awake, concluded that it was only my conscience, and tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't stop. Eventually, I decided that I would get up and try to distract myself. I went to the bathroom, and found someone sleeping, wrapped up in blankets, on the floor. I checked Mom and Duncan, found them where they were supposed to be, and pondered over this unexpected inhabitant. Then I woke up.

On waking, I had a renewed fear of the voice. I thought it didn't come from my conscience, but from the bathroom inhabitant, and I didn't know if I was awake or asleep. I wanted to get up and serve the voice some Karate if it bothered me again, but I doubted the effects a spinning hammer fist would have on a ghost.

Not wanting to go to sleep again, and too afraid of the voice, I just hid, paralyzed under my blanket, like a child from the Boogeyman, until daybreak, when I could sleep, feeling that daylight would ward off this spectre.

Dream

So, I now have a scientifically-proven bad sense of humour, because these 200 intentionally bad comics had me literally rolling on the floor laughing: http://nedroid.com/bcpage1.html

It's technically my birthday. I know I should be asleep, but screw that, it's my birthday and I'm going to do whatever I want!

Last night I had a dream that I was in this pub that was run by my karate friends, and the Angry Video Game Nerd was there, with those two characters from his Board JAmes series, Motherfucker Mike (I'm pretty sure no children read this blog) and Bad Luck Bootsy. It was the AVGN's birthday, so they were celebrating. For some reason, they knew who I was. I didn't want to hang out with them, because I thought they were being obnoxious, but I wanted my karate friends to see me with them, so they'd think I was a big shot. I didn't want to drink, but Motherfucker Mike kept buying me drinks. Then, a client from Community Connections, the place for developmentally challenged people that I worked at, came up to us. He and these gamers exchanged words. It was kind of playful, but then it seemed like the conversation was getting kind of mean toward CC guy. So I stuck up for him. After that, I asked if he remembered me from when I worked at CC. He did, and he asked me if I was in school now. Then the AVGN's girlfriend approached and told me the importance of school. I responded, "But I don't wanna go to school!"

Then I woke up. It took me awhile to realize that I hadn't actually seen my friend from CC, which made me sad. It took me a bit longer to realize that that particular client didn't exist, and was just a made-up character for the dream.

I wonder if turning 21 will be as much of a bombshell as turning 20 was. So far, it hasn't. Hope it stays that way.

One of my karate friends messaged me, being all like, "Yo, G, when are you coming back to karate???" and I felt all appreciated. I was all "I thought I might be leaving for another six months and didn't want to settle down. I don't think that's going to happen now, but tomorrow's my birthday, so we'll see what happens."

That's probably the most important thing for me. Being around people who follow the code of modesty, integrity, self-control, perseverance, and indomitable spirit,and to be improving in some tangible way would be a good influence on me. Right now I'm caught up in the acidity of my recently reconnected emotions, and dealing with the aspect of sacrificing my next major life move for the sake of my family, the discovery of my friends' resentment,and possibly the sacrifice of the identity I built in Katimavik for employability reasons. I'm also dealing with suddenly requiring to make my own schedules again. I'm just feeling beat-up by life right now, and it would be good to find the fight in me again. If I could find it through karate, I'm sure it would channel to other aspects of my life.

But today I'm required to take it easy, which I find stressful. "Taking it easy" has been more a fear-reaction than a slothful one, since coming to Katimavik. I'm sick of taking things at my own pace. I want to rise up to someone else's. But I'm too much a traditionalist to get my fight on on my birthday, even if I want to.

Katimavik Anticlimactic Finish

Do you know what I was thinking about today? A lisp is the inability to properly pronounce the "s" sound. Rhotacism is the inability to properly pronounce r's, l's and hard suffixes. Aspergers is a mild form of autism, which can cause social awkwardness, and hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia is the fear of long words. Psychiatrists must be dicks. "Lisp" has an "s" in it, Rhotacism has an "r", Aspergers sounds like ass burgers, so it's awkward to say, and hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia is a monstrously large word. It's like they wanted people afflicted with these conditions to demonstrate their effect when they say their respective terms.

I revamped my resume. Even though I've worked at my Katimavik placements longer than anywhere else, 2010 was looking cramped, so I mashed them into one section, and left my short-term temp work with a full section apiece, because it spread across the years better. I also knocked off a section of work experience, because no matter how you glorify "babysitter when I was thirteen" by calling it "child care providing" and talking about "providing a variety of nutritious meals" and "organizing recreational activities", it's still the kind of thing that a resume outgrows.

I put down Katimavik for education and volunteer work, too. I did seventeen volunteer events outside of my work placements.

A little while ago, I tallied up my Facebook's front page. I had 22 likes, 20 comments and 4 wall posts. Of them, 33 were Katimavik, 7 Katimavik associates, and 6 unassociated.

I beat that cat planet game Bro posted about. You have to do it in one shot, because there's no save function. Even though you can't lose, the game counts your deaths. We watched a guy on Youtube play it. He died 26 times. My brother died 96 times. I died 1232 times.

Damn it, all I want to do nowadays is sleep, drink and play videogames. I told someone this and they were like "Okay". THAT IS NOT OKAY!!!!!!

Let me tell you about how my Katimavik experience left on a sour note.

So there's this guy who said I was the best friend he'd ever had in his life, said that I was the strongest, most intelligent, and most respected member of the group, that I was the most interesting person he'd ever met, and that I had more worth as a human being than him. He was my closest friend and greatest teacher.

Well, after Katimavik, he posts on my wall, "You're not cool, Gryphon. I'm done." and he unfriends me. I'm like, "What the hell...?" and this other girl in my group is like, "He doesn't want to be your friend after the stupid things you said!!!" and this other girl also takes a shot at me, so I'm like, "What did I say?" and she's all like "I'm not involved. It's between you two.". So I'm all, "I messaged him and he won't message me back, and it's not just between me and him. It's between me and you, too. I lived with you for six months too, and I care how you feel as well. If you can't tell me why he's angry, can you tell me why you are?" and she's all, "If you can't think of what it is by yourself, you don't deserve to know. DON'T MESSAGE ME! I think you're immature". And then she unfriends me!

And the other girl who took a shot wouldn't even respond.

I have absolutely no clue what I could have said. I've searched my brain, and I can't think of a single offensive thing I've ever said to, or about this person.

Whatever happened must have happened within the last three weeks of the program, or else I wouldn't have been nominated and reelected as chairperson, and this person wouldn't have requested that he be House Manager with me. I've never been caught up in drama like this. I didn't think I was even capable of offending anyone.

I don't mind pseudo-breaking my privacy policy for this, because they went and snuck around my back first!!!

Whatever it was, this loser guy restated the value of our friendship at debriefing camp and promised to stay in touch at the airport. None of them could speak to me directly, and now they ignore me. No matter what they'd have to say, if I spoke to them face-to-face, I'm willing to bet they wouldn't have just walked away without saying a word, which is what they're doing here.

To help cap off this obnoxious caper, here's the Italian opening for Trollz:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMWhoXlVyl4&feature=related

cat planet explained

Okay, so I'm thinking maybe some of you might be a little confused about yesterday's update, so let me explain. Yesterday, I had started a post, but was called away. My brother went to the computer, saw my blog post was open, and asked if he should close it. I said yes. He said "But I want to write your update," so I said "Sure, go ahead." He said, "I wrote 'cat planet' over and over again". I said, "Post it".

Now, I didn't want to explain this, because I thought it would be funnier left unexplained, but my brother requests it. Cat planet is a computer game where you play as an angel, who flies around a planet full of cats. The objective is to explore the entire planet, and talk to as many cats as you can. There are deadly obstacles, but there are no ramifications for dying: you simply regenerate. If you like cats or planets, this is the game for you.

Anyway, today I went to Mom's Hep C clinic with her... Met some doctors and nurses. Apparently they've heard a lot about me. I got a free cup of coffee and stupidly turned down the opportunity to get a free cereal bar. Mom told them her condition hadn't changed. That about sums it up.

Dealt with some financial stuff. I don't want to talk about it.

Made bread today! Went to my old high school to see the teacher who sparked my Katimavik fund. Poked my head in her class, saw she was teaching. She saw me, said, "Hi, Dear". I popped back out. Didn't know if she recognized me or not (some people need a double-take, and I only gave her a first take), didn't know if she'd come see me or not, or if I should further interrupt her class by asking. Didn't know if I should stick around just to see, standing outside the classroom's field of vision so the kids wouldn't see me if it turned out I was waiting on nothing. I pondered a little, then bolted. High schools must be made to be awkward.

I emailed her, though. Got her schedule, and I'll see her next Monday.

Spoke to someone from the airline. Apparently they didn't get a lot of info or something, which doesn't make sense, because the people who told me to contact this person had it. Itold her, but she wants me to fill out the forms again. It's alright, though. Apparently they got around to writing me a cheque, but sent it to Thunder Bay. They've sent stuff to Chisasibi and Thunder Bay, but not here. I just need them to send something to Summerside to complete the pattern.

This lady seemed alright, though. She seemed easier to communicate with, and had more control over what was going on.

cat planet

lots to do in cat planet cat planet

everybody everybody cat planet

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Hair

So it looks like when I said, "Everything's still within walking distance, but you feel like an idiot walking for longer than doing what you're walking to do", I was pretty apt. If I walk to Karate, it takes me a full hour. Going there and back totals two hours I'm not going to spend two hours walking for an hour and a half lesson!

It looks like I'll have to deal with the bus system. I don't know why, but I hate using buses. Back in high school, I'd do a 3 K walk to and from school to avoid using a bus. In Katimavik, I once jogged 9 K,and had to suit up with mapping, communication, and bear-repellent gear, just to avoid having to wait in line in a crowded car coming back from Fort George (me and the pother guy that did this still got back before the van).

Like, even now,I have to go to my doctor's, which is five minutes walk from Karate. Gotta make it by ten, and my thoughts are, "If I leave at 8:30, I'll get there by 9:30".

NO! Take a bus!

I don't know if I should trim my beard, or if I should grow it out to Viking/pirate/wizard/dwarf length. See, the main philosophy behind the beard is that, in the face, women look at three things: strong nose, eyebrows, and jawline. The aspect of jawline is based on a throwback instinct to when our primitive ancestors would use their teeth as weapons. The beard gives the appearance of an enhanced jawline. But if I grow out my beard any longer, I think it will lose the appearance of a jawline. My plan was that, if I got into CWY real quick, I'd grow my beard for an entire year, but my beard has already lost some of it's purity. I trimmed the moustache a little, just so it doesn't curl into my mouth, and there was a section of skin under my eyes where hair was growing, but it wasn't thick enough to be beard, so it was just this awkward middle ground between face and beard, so I shaved it. Nobody can tell, but everytime I eat something and I don't have to wipe crumbs from my moustache, I'm reminded of my shame.

Already, I think my beard is growing more vertically than horizontally. That means it's getting longer, not just bushier. It's reaching a new level of beard, and I need to decide what to do with it.

Here's pictures of my beard: http://gryphonsgallery.blogspot.com/

I think the hair on my scalp is thinning. I thought that before going to Katimavik, but everyone thought I was crazy. Now a few people have offered their opinion that it is,not even provoked! And somebody who before said I wasn't, changed her opinion! ARG!

I was right to have grown my hair out in high school. It would be my only opportunity.

I think it's growing slower, too. In Katimavik, I got it cut only once, two months in, and you can see basically it's extent in those photos. That's four months of hair growth, for both beard and scalp, and my scalp had a substantial head-start. My brother had sort of longish hair when I went to Katimavik, and coming back, he's got it shoulder-length. So he had a bit of a head-start, and then I got mine cut two months in, but even without these handicaps, I doubt I could have made it to shoulder-length by the end of Katimavik.

Canada World Youth

So, there's this program called Canada World Youth. It's Katimavik's sister organization. It's basically the same, but instead of everything being inside Canada, you do one rotation in Canada, and one rotation in a third world country, you're not in a group, but instead travel with only one other person, who is a native of the other country, and instead of a Project Leader, you have billet families. It's still for a six month period, your work for not-for-profit organizations, and you do volunteer activities and workshops evenings and weekends.

I signed up for a program starting in nine months as a back-up plan in case I didn't have anything solid by then. Well, turns out, there have been a large number of drop-outs for the programs taking off last month and this month. That means, they're looking for replacements from applicants in my cluster. They'll pull in replacements anytime up to six weeks after the program's start. There's a fee that you're supposed to pay through fundraising activities, but the requirements for replacements are cut. I didn't want to lose my opportunity, so I said yes, put me on a back-up list. I had my medical file transferred from Katimavik, since they both work out of the same office, and there was only one last piece to complete it. Since I'd been speaking to them consistently, I'd noticed that they always responded to me within the day, that the person in charge of dealing with applicants is the same person who dealt with my Katimavik application, and that, because I had completed Katimavik, and was ready to jump into another program like this so quickly, I felt my chances of getting in this round were very good. This Wednesday was my doctor's appointment, where I'd get the last necessary form.

I told my family and was met with negative reception. See, my mom's really sick from this Hep C treatment, and my brother's not in a position to support the household. Since I came back, there was an almost-eviction-level incident that I managed to steer away from happening.

Before, when people emphasized my importance in this family, I didn't think there was any legitimacy behind it, but now I'm worried that there is. I don't want to think I'm the type of person to ditch someone in their time of need... and there's a lot of good stuff going on over here that could really get screwed up for them if things went wrong at this stage...

...And a friend of mine says that they're hiring full-time at his workplace, that they're seriously understaffed, that he's a group leader, and will put in a good word for me... Says I'll probably get the job... One catch... Gotta shave the beard.

Man... Full-time employment. I have to say... coming back from Katimavik, I've been offered short-term work at two places and now I'm being recommended by a higher-up for full-time employment, and I haven't even really been looking. World of difference from before.

But still... Being asked to deny the opportunity of going on another adventure, and being told to shave my beard... It feels like I'm being asked for a lot.

I've been messaged by the airline, saying they have received my request and want a seven-day processing period. That's okay.

I have been messaged by Katimavik, saying that I can order a "Got A Life" T-shirt fro free from their website, since I completed the program (their slogan is "Get A Life").

Toronto, New House

Alright, so I just updated the blog, but I logged out of my email account, and I forgot that logging in/out of my email logs me in/out of my blog, and vice-versa. Now, that wouldn't matter so much, because I can always copy/paste my existing post into a new post after logging in, but I learned about my mistake by trying to post and having it bring me to an error screen. Now, this doesn't always work if you're logged out of a site and hit "back", but I tried, and it brought me to my original message. I'm on top of the world here, because now I can't fail to preserve my message... I just have to log in, start a new post, and copy my message from this screen. I log in... and it changes my page with my message to a "successfully logged in" page. So I try to go back, but it doesn't let me!

I think I'd be able to let it go more easily, if I hadn't been offered hope and had it snatched away repeatedly, and if I didn't have to deal with the irony that the failure screen was more forgiving than the success one, and that I lost through success. It's like being told "Congratulations, you're fired! :D"

At least there wasn't a ton... I wrote down all my newest, notable experiences, and of all of them, for various reasons, only two are publishable...

First thing to note is that I'm back from Toronto. I was there an extra day because my work asked me back. They originally said they had four or five hours, and because I was starting early, that would mean I was done noon. But it was a specific task they wanted me to complete, and it seemed to me that it was more like a full two days of work! I don't think I could have just been slow, or else I would have fallen behind my coworker, and I wouldn't have been asked back.

My job was to put labels on lids. Guess for which flavour? Corn & Cheese. I bet you've never had Corn & Cheese ice cream before. They also have Black Sesame ice cream and Lobster ice cream.

All the workers there remember me, but none of them mentioned my beard! They were all super-casual, too, like I was a regular worker and they weren't surprised to see me. Maybe they were tipped off that I was coming, didn't actually remember me,and therefor, didn't realize they were supposed to realize my beard was new?!

Second point is, did you guys know I'm living in a new place? Ever since I came back, I'm living in this regular house that's sectioned off for different families. It's like being in a Katima-house, where certain groups are allowed to call "dibs" on certain sections. I actually like the community aspect. Coming out of Katimavik, I don't think I have a sense of personal space, and too much space makes me feel agoraphobic. It actually feels like we have neighbors. In a regular apartment, I've found that you don't really have neighbors... Just people you live next to.

What I don't like is location. This is a classier neighborhood, but back at the old place, it felt like everything was within walking distance. Everything kind of is here, too, but not so much that you don't feel like a fool for walking a longer amount of time than doing whatever you were doing that required you to walk there.

More Recapping, and Hard Scheduling

So far, the differences I can detect in my life, before and after Katimavik, are:
-I do the dishes more often
-I make dinner sometimes
-We only eat homemade bread

Being able to make homemade bread is probably the skill I’ve found most useful since coming back. If you can make bread, you can make it white, multi-grain, whole wheat... You can make cheese bread, raisin bread... You can make buns and soft pretzels... and, most importantly, you can give it out to people, and it makes them happy. Try not to give it any context. Just say “I baked a loaf of bread for you.” So far I’ve given loaves of bread to my old employment counsellor and my old employer.

I made almost all the bread in the last rotation of Katimavik. Since it was normally House Manager responsibility to make bread, this was the first time people were doing it on a voluntary basis, because there wasn’t a real HM system (there was a meal plan, but that was it), and because of that, I managed to take the title of group bread-maker. People said that my bread was better... When we were doing a debriefing exercise about each other’s positive qualities, mine kept coming out “Stories, hat, beard, bread”. Three of those I did not have before Katimavik, and I suppose it’s nice to have developed another quality like that so near the end, but I disagree that my bread was better. I used the standard Thunder Bay recipe that I would think the majority of people were using.

I forgot to say in my last update that I’ve not only seen my old employment counsellor, Karate friends, Granddad, and Food Bank friends, but also a couple friends of the family, my former employer, an old guidance counsellor from high school (the one who took me shopping), and someone who used to work for my old employment agency. The last two on that list I saw just by coincidence, when I was grocery shopping. I also met my old employment counselor’s girlfriend.

In none of my newsletters or Katima-Gryphon blog posts, did I ever say anything about the last three major events that happened in Final Rotation. I wrote about them on The Weekly Flock, our group blog, but that was it. We had three week-long projects, that were supposed to substitute for not having a regular work placement, since we didn’t have enough time to get settled into one.
These substitute activities were:
-Mamouidow
-Pow-wow
-Beach

Mamouidow was an event held throughout the community, where everyone moved to an island called Fort George, and lived traditionally for a week. Apparently, until thirty years ago, everyone lived on Fort George. While we were there, we helped the locals build and maintain teepees, prepare food, chop wood, and generally help out where necessary. They fed us so much, we ate barely any of our own food, and since they helped us set up our place, it didn’t really feel like we were working. Since we were hanging out with them all the time, it felt like we were maintaining ourselves as much as maintaining them, and vice versa.

We had a surprise group bonding event. The entire group got heavy into chopping wood. We were mainly pretty terrible. Em and Marie had prior experience, and Devon was inexplicably talented, but me,Cole, Pierre and Clay had a lot of learning to do. The locals had a good time watching us, laughing at us, and taking pictures of us, but they were very cool, and showed us the techniques. It must have been to them like if some foreigners came to live with us, and got heavy into vacuuming, but were terrible at it, and wanted to vacuum all day and host vacuuming competitions, where they just ran into walls and needed to be taught how to do it properly. By the time we left, all of us managed to successfully split a log with one chop.

Our second major event was a Pow-wow. That was about a week long, too. Our job was to maintain a Katimavik booth, and to help with registry for the dancers. Plus set-up and take-down. My job was to tell the adults they couldn’t sign up unless they were in full regalia. That was a bad job. Nobody knew about that rule, and not very many people agreed with it, myself included. The people working with the children didn’t have such a rough time... Children are kind of used to taking instruction from adults, even when they don’t understand them, but I was working with people who were mostly older than me. To them, I was a foreign kid, telling them what to do at an event I didn’t know anything about. It was the opposite of building good relations in the community, and I would have let them slide by, but I did that at the beginning and my boss yelled at me twice.

Plus, sometimes you’d tell them they’d need to get dressed up, and they’d be all, “I am dressed up!” and that would be awkward...

It wasn’t a very good place for a Katima-booth, either. You had to yell at the top of your lungs if you wanted to actually tell anyone about Katimavik:

“KATIMAVIK IS A YOUTH TRAVEL-VOLUNTEER PROGRAM FOR PEOPLE BETWEEN AGES 17 AND 21. GROUPS OF 11 TRAVEL TO TWO OR THREE LOCATIONS ACROSS CANADA, FOR SIX OR NINE MONTHS, EACH DOING A REGULAR NINE TO FIVE JOB FOR A NOT-FOR-PROFIT ORGANIZATION AND DO WORKSHOPS AND COMMUNITY INVOLVEMENT PROJECTS ON EVENINGS AND WEEKENDS. IN ADDITION, THEY ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR MANAGING A HOUSEHOLD AND LEARN HOW TO COOK, CLEAN, AND MANAGE A BUDGET. THE PROGRAM IS FREE.”

Kills your throat. By the end of the day, I think we were known as, “The booth that gives out free cookies, brownies, bread and balloons” and our main audience was very young children.

I couldn’t tell the difference between some of the different kinds of dancing. There were Tiny Tots, Traditional, Grass, Jingle, and Fancy dancers. The Tiny Tots were children under five. Grass and Jingle were male and female equivalents to each other. There weren’t any male Jingle dancers, or female Grass dancers. But I couldn’t tell you the difference between Grass, Fancy, and Traditional.

Our third placement was at the beach. Children who weren’t in school would go to the beach with these life guards and hang out. The life guards weren’t exactly babysitters. I’m not sure what our job was. Most of my group spent most of their time sunbathing (mark of failure for the organization if a Katimavik group can sunbathe in what’s supposed to be their Northern rotation). I figured the best I could do was be another child, so that’s what I did. I just played with the kids. Apparently it was the right thing to do, because I got a Warm Fuzzy from my PL, saying that the lifeguards had pointed me out as having done an exceptionally good job.

So that’s that.

I’m trying to get reimbursed for the luggage I lost going to Thunder Bay. They give you $100 if it’s lost for over 48 hours, and they reimburse you if it’s over 91 days. I sent in my luggage declaration and heard nothing, so I spoke to someone from the baggage department, and he said they sent the letter to my home in Chisasibi. I told him I don’t live in Chisasibi, I was in a program that required me to be there when I sent the declaration. He said to contact my family in Chisasibi. I told him I don’t have family there, and the people who lived in the house I was at are gone, too. He was getting frustrated and I was getting frustrated and eventually we kind of quit on each other. I’m sure that’s just what the airline wants, so the next day I tried again. This time I got a woman, who was a bit more understanding but spoke very quietly, and since it was a bad connection I could only hear a word she was saying every now and then, and answered based on what I thought she was saying, since she was kind of using the other guy’s formula, and I sort of knew what to expect. I asked her to repeat herself several times, apologized, said that this was a bad connection and it made it difficult to hear, but she never made any attempt to raise her voice. I’m pretty sure she wound up telling me to write to claims department, telling them that my address had changed.

I... just want to say that I had my correct address on the actual baggage declaration... I wrote my Guelph address as my permanent address, and the only reason they must think I live in Chisasibi is because that’s what the return address was on the envelope, or because it’s where the claim was sent from.

A friend of the family just got a car and is interested in teaching me to drive, so I can apply for my G2 license. Unfortunately, we were schedule to start next Tuesday, when I leave for Toronto. I’m going to have to reschedule that, too.

I went in to get my blood tested for vitamins D and B12. It’s a reassessment of how I’ve been doing since I started taking supplements. Our family doctor didn’t forget about me, and wrote me out a request while I was away. But when I went to get tested, the receptionist told me that my paper was way overdue, and told me it had been written some time in 2009.

That’s kind of weird, since I left for Katimavik March 3rd, 2010.
I have one video game, three books, and 39 movies to review, coming back from Katimavik. Here are the lists:

Video game:
Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth

Books:
The World According to Garp
Frankenstein
The Little Prince

Movies:
Alice in Wonderland
Greenzone
The Losers
Clash of the Titans
Robin Hood
Macgrouber
Shrek Forever After
Karate Kid (remake)
Iron Man 2
How to Train your Pet Dragon
Pulp Fiction
Fight Club
Law Abiding Citizen
Mr. Brooks
Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog
Silence of the Lambs
Hannibal Lector
The Ring
The Prestige
Get Smart
Watchmen
Ace Ventura, Pet Detective
X-Men Origins: Wolverine
Pursuit of Happyness
The Bourne trilogy
The Die Hard quadrilogy
Mama Mia
Avatar
Twilight
The Bounty Hunter
The Proposal
Hot Tub Time Machine
Kick-Ass
The Dark Night

It's the same number of movies as how many tickets I sold at the Women's Expo. I can never make an even 40!

I'll have to do speed-round reviews sometime, but not today!

Restarting the Blog

KAPOW! I'm back in action! It's been about two weeks since I got back from Katimavik, and it's time to get this thing back up-and-running.

The trip back to Guelph was okay. They sent me, along with a bunch of other people, home by bus. It was the first time they've transported any of us that way. I figure it's because, now that we're done the program, Head Office doesn't care about us anymore. A slightly more optimistic perspective, given by Grandma, is that, now that we're out of the program, they don't have to worry about taking time out of the program. At any rate, they apparently could have done us one worse. There's a bus that goes from Chisasibi to Montreal. They flew me out of Cree Nation, and sent me the rest of the way by bus.

If you were reading my Katimavik blog, you'll know that I got a magic stick from a cool guy with a mammoth beard, who's lived in the woods for eleven years, raises wolves, and makes a living by harvesting mushrooms. I was real scared that they wouldn't let me take it on the plane. I figured if I could get it through the plane system, it could make it through the bus system. I practiced my limping, so as to have a better chance of attracting sympathies. When we got there, I limped my way up to baggage, and limped over to where my groupwas sitting. A friend of our group said to check and see if I could get it checked as baggage. I was uncertain, because it would seem suspicious for a crippled man to ask for his crutch taken away, but my Project Leader concurred, and I figured that the insight of two elders was probably worth more than my own, so I complied.

Well, they took it! The whole trip would be coloured by anxiety for my stick, though, because we stopped over in Waskaganish, and we had to go through luggage and a more thorough security system, and no bus would allow me to take my stick on board, so I had to worry about it getting cracked as it was packed in with all that loose luggage.

It made it the whole way, though, and maybe my worries for it helped ease the anxiety of leaving my group. It even got a few notable moments. I was just a tiny bit lost in Montreal, and I was approached a Cree person. He first tried speaking to me in Cree, but that didn't work too well (I can say, hello, okay, one, two, three, eleven, rabbit, and fart, in Cree, and that's all), so he said in English, "How is the weather in Waskaganish?" in a sort of cordial, "I-acknowledge-you-as-a-countryman-enough-that-you're-worth-talking-to kind of way, and I received help from him. I think he saw that I needed help, and stuck his neck out, sort of explaining that he was doing so because of this tie. The Cree can be very perceptive. One time, one of our Cree friends told me where to find two of my group members, who I was looking for, and I never told him what I was doing, or even approached me. So, by comparison, being approached because I looked lost is in no way unrealistic.

But how did he know that we had this tie in the first place? I don't think I have an aura of Cree-ness... One month shouldn't do that.

So... maybe it was the stick! He saw this emblem, bestowed on me by a man who is said to have a heightened sixth sense, who does nothing for no reason...and who is known by all in Cree Nation... I was seen as a man who would be given this kind of a stick (It's not just a stick, it's got these funky, red-and-black ropes tied around the top, which might be more characteristic).

Honestly, that's what I've been telling myself, but an annoying part of my brain's been telling myself "He probably saw you in the Waskaganish airport. If he knew the man who gave you the stick, he'd have said 'How's the weather in CHISASIBI'".

Oh well, you still feel pretty accepted by the world when you're spoken to by the Cree in Cree, the French in French, and the English in English.

Going through the Montreal system both ways, the officials would address the French people in French, and the English in English. They never asked what way to address people, and with no knowledge outside a quick glance, the anglophones were left scratching their heads about how they could tell the difference.

Well, I was the only Anglophone to be addressed in French! And it happened every time!

Of course, if you try to reply in French, they'll know your Anglophonic origins before your finish your first words, so I'd usually do something like smile and nod, and they'd realize their mistake, anyway. I'm only French enough to last a first impression...

I adopted a lot of fashion advice from a French participant in my group, and I took on some of his life philosophies and techniques. It was only at this point that I realized the extent his culture was rubbing off on me.

That's not necessarily a bad thing... Sure it makes me kind of like the Vanilla Ice of French culture, but... in the world of women and romance, the very best any Anglophone man can hope to be is a pale shadow of a Frenchman. If you're in a battle of love with a Frenchman, give up.

Want statistics? Not any French man, or French woman, in all five groups my group was associated with, did not hook up with at least one person. Want another, weirder statistic? Not any Anglophone hooked up with another Anglophone, and there was only one double-French couple. There was at least one couple in each group... In total, there were... seven public couples, and they all but one went Anglo-Franco.

Okay, so that makes it sound like a wiser technique would be to go super-Anglo, and hit the streets of Quebec as hardcore English as possible, but in practice, that's not how things work...

Anyway, we were talking about my stick...

In the Toronto bus terminal, a girl sits across from me. She looks at my stick, then looks me in the eye and holds gaze. I hold gaze. A slow smile crosses her lips, I return it. She murmers "Nice stick".

I respond "Thanks! I got it from a man who's got a beard down to here, who's lived in the woods for eleven years, who raises wolves, and picks mushrooms for a living! He lives near a Cree village in North Quebec, they say he has a heightened sixth sense and doesn't do anything for no reason, he only gave one to me, and he offered for me to live with him for a month! I just came back from there, and I never thought it would make it this far!!!!!"

She looks at me kind of confused and says "That's.... awesome?"

And we sit in silence until my bus shows up.

The stick gets a third response, but ti's actually too emotional to post publicly.

I rode a double-decker bus, for the first time in my life, from Montreal to Toronto, and I sat on the top deck. Once the novelty wore off, it was pretty much just like a regular bus.

Coming back home was surprisingly not awkward. Mom and Bro haven't changed a bit, and I don't think they think I have, either. I asked them if they thought I'd changed, and they said something along the lines of "Kind of... you have a beard!"

My cat still remembers me... Didn't even punish me for being away by ignoring me, like he would normally do if I was gone for two weeks.

I've been to my old employment centre and seen one of my old counselors, went to the Food Bank where I used to volunteer, and went to a stag and doe, held in honour of my Karate sensei and his fiancee who also worked there as a teacher, that was located in my old dojo. I, and one other guy there, were the only non-black belts. That would not have been an ideal place to get drunk and pick fights! Everyone so far has recognized me. The Food Bank people didn't even flinch!

Coming back from Katimavik, in my full regalia, I appear as a typical flannel-wearing, suspender-sporting, flapjack-binging, axe-savvy Lumberjack. That doesn't sound French, but it is. My French friend was a pilot. Being French is like playing dress-up, but you take it real serious.

I haven't been back to Karate. Coming back to Guelph, it seems like I felt a release from duty, and I just dropped all the toughness and durability I'd displayed in the program and fell to all the little damages I'd acquired across my journey. A guy who managed to go through something that had been described as "A trip to Hell" with a smile on his face comes home and manages to wreck his ankle doing something which, at it's coolest, could only have been walking. And I think I did it sleeping. I've taken short walks outside and developed blisters. I get up in the morning and hear my bones crack and pop. I became so brittle!

But the only thing holding me back right now is my ankle. It feels like I did something seriously bad to it.

This is also the furthest South I've been in six months, and I'm feeling it in the heat.

Looks like that place I was taking those online writing courses from went out of business while I was gone. I think I'm going to take it off my resume. I only did one course, and it was kind of like one in a set of four. IfI'd done all four, I might keep it on, but as-is, I don't think so...

Going to Toronto next Tuesday to see my Dad and his side of the family, my grandparents, some old friends, and maybe my Aunt. Gonna be gone for two or three days, and I might do some work at that ice cream manufacturing place.

I was talking to the friend I planned to see from my old pre-employment program on the phone, her roommate walks in, and she says "Guess who I'm talking to?! ------- -------!" (I won't say my name on this blog again, I don't like how many times it shows up onthe front page of Google for unsettlingly non-cryptic phrases).

Turns out, she's living with someone I know from high school! Blow my mind! Two people from such separate aspects of my life are living together in such a remote location!

Can you believe I have more to say? I've got reviews and struggles with airline services at least still on my list, but I've been writing for long enough...