the fun of midterms

The fun keeps happening. **sarcasm** Also, midterms. **gulp**

Monday: I got bus tickets on the way to school. This will be my final time doing so to come home for break.

Tuesday: A friend with whom I hadn't been getting along with for a long time and I finally sat down and talked--and she told me that she has breast cancer. The tumour's pretty big, and she doesn't know whether or not she'll survive. I sobbed through much of our talk, I felt so bad for her. She choked up a couple times, too, but didn't turn into a complete mess, unlike me.

After my appointment with Joan, I spent the day doing homework and that night I snapped. After what I went through last semester, Stan's death and now this, I'd had enough and I became furious with the gods.

Wednesday: I emailed Lynn late-Tuesday/early-Wednesday and exploded, taking out a lot of my rage and fear on her (though I made it clear that said rage wasn't directed at her: I was angry with the gods, having gone through so much over the last few months and I'd finally reached my breaking point, as I think of this in the context of the entire year). That night I would've been happy to find an empty room somewhere and let loose and scream and yell until I couldn't anymore.

These pieces describe how I felt perfectly. Brace yourself. If you've seen Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, you might recognize the first one.



During my first lesson with my full-size violin (September 10, 2001), Lynn played this piece on said violin--and I fell in love with the composition immediately. Since then, it has been a piece that I turn to when I need something that I know will comfort me. Thanks, Lynn!







And this one pretty much sums it all up:



Thursday: My afternoon class was canceled because Carla was sick so I used the time to get a head-start on my weekend homework load and run some errands.

Friday: As promised back in the summer, I spent the day listening to Tchaikovsky while finishing the readings for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.

Saturday: On the way to school, I noticed that Halifax had raised the gay pride flag in the Grand Parade. I stopped and took some photos (the one below is from today)--and suspected that it was a show of solidarity with the LGBT community in Russia. Turns out, I was right. When I googled it, I found out that Fredericton and Moncton have also raised the pride flag at their city halls (go New Brunswick!). I have no words for how excited I felt when I saw the flag in Halifax. Now, whenever I pass the Grand Parade on my way to or from school, I look at the flag and smile: pride flags and rainbows in general make me happy, but pride flags being raised in solidarity with Russia's LGBT community, which many Canadian cities are doing, make me even happier (shut up, Rob Ford).

I missed the live broadcast of Rusalka (the story reminds me of Anderson's The Little Mermaid)--so I listened to it in Mountain Time, which, on CBC at least (I don't know about other networks in other countries), meant that it wasn't live. As I'd expected, Song to the Moon was spectacular.



I'd planned to do the first shoot for my independent project that evening, but the guy who was supposed to pose is sick so we rescheduled for this coming week ('tis the season).

While waiting for my laundry that evening I finally started turning this blog into a book using Blurb BookSmart. I'd tried a few times using BookSmart's blog-to-book feature, but it always stalled after importing my photos. I finally decided to give up on that method and copy and paste the text myself, post by post. I'm finding BookSmart clunky and slow (seriously, Blurb??), but at least I'm able to start work on my dream. I'm looking at a trade-size hardcover book with full-colour photos. Based on what I've done so far (up to Christmas break '09), I'm looking at about a two hundred page book and around 100,000 words(!)--not bad for five years of college and university. My current plan is to copy the posts that I wrote during the school year and possibly the posts that I wrote during the summer breaks. Some of the summer posts are referenced in posts written during the school year (e.g., the posts that I wrote as I figured out how I was going to approach the Sochi Games). I also want to do a table of contents, which will be interesting. Between this and more study of the Nutcracker conductors' score (can't wait!), reading week will fly by.

Sunday: I spent much of the day writing and stressing about midterms (seriously, my time management skills should be better than this by now). BTW, I only have two midterms to worry about right now: the one for Topics in Modern Canadian Art isn't until after the break.

PPS

I've been thinking even more about my personal boycott of the Olympics (maybe overthinking, but I don't care--it's my first time consciously ignoring the Games). I may keep an eye on if and how the anti-"gay propaganda" law is put into effect--for example, some athletes have pledged to wear rainbow pins during the Games. Would they be arrested for doing so? Though I'll try to stay away from official broadcasters (CBC, NBC, BBC, etc.).

PS

While I'm not in favour of moving the Olympics back to Vancouver (sorry, George Takei--while I agree with him that action must be taken, finding accommodations for that many people and making other arrangements when Vancouver hasn't planned for it and would have only five-and-a-bit months to do so just isn't practical, even though the athletic facilities are there), I am in favour of a boycott, like what happened the last time Russia hosted the Games (Moscow, 1980). Yes, it would suck for the athletes and some might not get another chance at Olympic glory, but if it could happen in '76, '80 and '84, it can happen in '14.

losing faith in the Olympics one nutty move at a time

For the first time since I started watching the Olympics in '98 (Nagano), I will be completely ignoring the Games come February.

Russia recently passed a law that makes "promoting" homosexuality (e.g., waving a Pride flag) illegal, which in turn makes it dangerous for gay and lesbian athletes. For a while it looked like the athletes and spectators would be exempt from that law, but then the Kremlin backtracked: just because you're a guest who's competing here or watching the Games doesn't mean that you can wave that Pride flag. What makes it worse is that the IOC intends to do nothing.

Looking back through the history of the Games, though, I'm not surprised. My favourite example is the 1936 Berlin Games. While Berlin won the bid two years before Hitler came to power, the IOC did nothing--the Games went ahead as planned and Hitler tried to use them as a way to showcase the supposed superiority of white-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde-haired people, though that didn't quite work out. By still letting Sochi host the Games, the IOC is giving Russia (which doesn't exactly have a great human rights record) the go-ahead to validate the country's beliefs.

What also drives me nuts is Team USA's reaction: "While we strongly support equal rights for all, our mission is sustained competitive excellence and our focus will be to deliver a well prepared team and to put our athletes in a position to be the best they can be." In other words, winning is more important than equal rights and the safety of gay team members.

As mentioned earlier, the IOC's current plan is to do nothing--but by doing nothing they are complacent in Russia's actions. They're saying it's okay to beat people to a pulp just because of who they love and to deny them the right to said love. These are not just gay rights--they're human rights.

Over the years, I've become more aware of the issues surrounding the Games: who the sponsors are behind their glitzy façades, what actually happens to make the Games happen (people being told to move--which, sadly, seems to happen a lot when the Olympics come to town, and naturally the poor are the ones who are affected the most--spending money on the Games that would be better spent eradicating things like poverty, etc.). I fully support the ideals of the Games--but I don't support what actually happens and who benefits (the corporations, even more than the athletes). It's enough to drive me up the wall.

...as does Russia's anti-gay propaganda law. We all deserve to be allowed to love who we love and to say, "hey, I'm proud of who I am" without the fear that we'll be thrown in jail for displaying that pride or kissing or holding hands with our partner, regardless of the partner's sex. I've never wanted to go to Russia, but I want to go even less since this law came into effect. As someone who is definitely not straight (I currently identify as an asexual lesbian, though I'm living proof that sexual orientation is fluid), I would not feel safe in that country, even if I wasn't wearing anything with the gay pride colours on it (as a matter of fact, I bought my first gay and asexual pride pins this summer, and am in the process of designing an anti-Sochi '14 pin with--you guessed it--the gay pride colours).

I know that Russia isn't the only country with anti-gay laws: almost a hundred countries have laws that make it illegal to be gay--but those other countries won't be hosting the Olympics (and the world) next year.

By the way, I don't hate the country itself: Russia is home to two of the greatest ballet companies in the world (the Bolshoi and Mariinsky Ballet Companies--there are others in Russia, but those are the top two. From 1909 to 1929 there was also the the Ballets Russes, which is still highly-regarded in the ballet world.) and some of the greatest dancers ever--including my favourite, Rudolf Nureyev, who was gay. Tchaikovsky, who composed my favourite ballet (The Nutcracker) and other awesome gems was also Russian (and gay). And I support the ideals that the IOC supposedly stands for (their actions speak louder than words, unfortunately).

36 Photos from Russia that Everyone Needs to See (heartbreaking)
Gay Tourists in Russia Face Jail Time, Deportation
IOC Prohibits Athletes from Challenging anti-gay Russian law at Olympics
Russia and the IOC Agree: Athletes and Spectators shouldn't be openly gay at the Olympics