Quebec City Online, revisited

Since my first long-ago misguided journey on the intarwebs for the wonders of Quebec City, I can now say that it had been much further developed since back then. (In fact, it had been developed before to some extent but I couldn't find it as easily.)

One is the ever-popular notorious Quebec Chronicle-Telegraph. Back in 2005 (wow was it really that long?) it looked as wonderful as McGill's old web page did. Now it is a hotbed of sweet anglo community news online action with its stunning interactivity of blurbs like: someone is mad at a license plate; or the new publisher's plea to quebeckians online to do the newspaper's job.

To be completely almost completely serious for a moment, I know that it's not fun to watch an anglo community fall apart like a sweatshop chinese electronic device. I've lived among them - we're pulling ourselves together like some old granny underwear. But it's a comforting underwear, despite its holes and the discolourations, and... uh... well, you have to drop some stitches sometime.

So I'm holding out the thread. Hey, anyone who is interested and/or wants to contribute to the cultural/news life of Quebec City, just drop these guys a line, join them, or help out some old culture newsies in their new media format. The INTERNETs.

Home Stretch

Here are my new tomatoes for this summer. Unfortunately, they will probably peak after we leave here, but I still can't resist!


Also, I decided only to have one plant this summer instead of two, because they take so long to harvest. Instead, what I decided one day on a whim was to toss a potato eye (from one of the potatoes in the sack that went awry) and let it grow. And boy has it grown - it literally grew three inches over a day!

Will there be potatoes? I doubt it.

Counting this day, I have only 9 days of work left. (For those of you who keep count of "work days" as M-F, in the teaching world it's M-Sun.) It's the home stretch! After the graduation ceremony on the 30th, I plan to jet (train) off to Quebec City for a week, after 6 months of not having visited. It's going to be the BIG BIRTHDAY BASH on the 3rd. I don't know what the celebrations have been like so far this year in QC, but I hope they'll be FREE.

So if anyone wants to come with me (which Jorghnassen can't do because he has to stay here and teach), I'd be so happy. :D:D:D

Then I have to return to Waterloo to get preparations going. And give two workshops for the summer camp at the school. >_<

Some :( and :) but more :(

Some time last week, my mum told me that the water spout leading to the outside of our apartment in Quebec exploded and flooded my room. Fortunately only the floor was flooded, but unfortunately it destroyed all the stuff that was paper and lying on the floor. Which was everything under the bed. She had to throw out all the things that were soaked. This soggy wet pile included artwork from high school, school notes, some other books, and other mementos from the 199X's.

However, I have come to a reluctant acceptance of how these things were by no means something I would miss terribly. They were items that did have some significant meaning at the time, and that is why I kept them. But if they had been of more meaning I would have probably put them somewhere not under the bed. (Kind of like the Clean Sweep philosophy.)

This holiday weekend has been rather unexciting. I have a pile of midterms yet to finish, but that is my own fault for being a procrastinator.

Next weekend however, we're heading to Ottawa to hang out with Donnah. :D Jorghnassen has a conference, and I'm going to be taking Monday off so I can stay a bit longer.

Yes, big news looms ahead...!

In the meantime, I have more work to look forward to. The kids want cookies...

Vacation!

I'm on vacation!
It's celebration!
It's celebration,
I'm on vacation....

Oh wait, no I'm not. :(

At least not yet! :D

As soon as these kids write their final exams on Monday afternoon, I'm taking everything home, correcting it all (which is going to be less than last term, as I have half the number of students and exams), delivering them Tuesday morning, and we're jetting off (by car, that is...)to possibly Toronto, and Montreal. And possibly Quebec. I don't know about Quebec, since Jorghnassen doesn't seem to want to take the extra two hours of driving to visit, but I'd like to see my mum at least, and hopefully squeeze in some time with the bunny man and his wife.

Then we're jetting off (literally) to England on the 27th, to attend Jorgh's brother's weeding. (Inside joke.) Oh, that reminds me, I need to get a camera before that. A real camera, not one that takes things like this:



Anyway, time to get cracking... I have another pile of corrections to complete at the moment!

Back and Forth, Back and Forth...

"Back and forth, back and forth; I'm beginning to feel like Sisyphus!" -some merchant, Zeus Master of Olympus

Once again, I took to the task of driving back to the homeland, while Jorghnassen had the monumental task of keeping me awake and calling for rest stops at every other service station. Our primary goal was the week-long vacation in our home province. Our secondary goal was to obtain the Rav4's summer tires from Jorgh's dad in Quebec.

Our first stop was in Toronto, to attend the pre-wedding Ning fling at a Dave & Buster's out in the middle-of-nowhere-Toronto. All I know is that one of the Ikeas was next to it. (I-KEEEEE-AAAAAHHH...) I haven't seen Ning in a long time, and even then it was a brief coincidental meeting in Quebec City as she was walking in old town with her now-fiancé Steve. They're supposed to be getting married this week. So happy...! :)

After spending overnight in Toronto with my cousins, we spent all day driving to Montreal, and then I spent all evening correcting Calculus final exams. The marks had to be submitted the next morning at 8 a.m. by email, otherwise I would have had one hell of a commute. I called Davy up as soon as I arrived, certain he would be having his party, to send my regards, and he promptly told me to get our butts over there. Unfortunately, I could not complete my corrections until 10 pm.

By the time we arrived, Ian had already scuttled off, having waited all night for our arrival. On the other hand, Ivo had been asleep and appeared half-dead on our arrival. Then he slept some more. ;) We spent the rest of the evening chatting, sipping tea and whatever else was left, and singing more Beatles songs.

Checklist of Montreal/Quebec Things to Do Eat:

• eat poutine


• eat poutine from Ashtons


• buy maple syrup in cans


• buy bagels by the dozen


• eat and buy tasty bread


• buy or eat own weight in cheese and curds


• eat sushi (!?)

(The last one actually makes sense if you remember what my mum does for a living.)

My favourite thing to do with friends is to make food for them. (Heck, any excuse to get the old roomies together.) So we ended up having one supper in Montreal with homemade sushi (unfortunately not Sushi Sunday but still good).

I managed to secure some of SUMS' doorstops Calculus textbooks for the school. Another reasonable excuse to make this trip's expenses tax-deductible. :)

Eventually we made our way to Quebec, but none of my siblings could make the trip. My bro is recording a new album, so all his evenings are taken up; my sister was entertaining her 'rents-in-law. And arriving in Quebec... my mum was working. Alas, we were also booked for pre-Easter supper with Jorgh's parents and brother in downtown Quebec, so we had virtually no time to go anywhere nor do much shopping. :(

I do feel like we ate a lot though...!

I was pretty bushed by the end of the week. And I still had to drive back to Waterloo, and then the next day yesterday was the first day of school.

... also I had to stop in Toronto for about an hour or so to drop off the bags of bagels, cheese curds, and beans for my cousin. We got back in Waterloo at about 10:30 p.m. and I worked late into that night at making new lesson plans.

Ooh you can bet your sweet patootie I'm completely off my rocker. I made a class blog for my computer class and I think it shows. (In order not to let random strangers get to this blog from the other one, or vice versa, you'll have to ask me what it is.)

Ms. C Happens Onto Waterloo

I have been ultimately busy doing a number of things in the last two weeks:

1. Driving from Chicoutimi to Waterloo in the Rav4.


2. Driving around Waterloo to buy some furniture and other miscellaneous things in the Rav4.


3. Driving to the school out in Baden to meet people in the Rav4.


4. Driving to the school out in Baden to work in the last week... in the Rav4.


5. Driving Jorghnassen around in the Rav4.


6. Trying to get Jorghnassen to drive the Rav4.

It is creepy driving around in the middle of winter with barely any snow on the ground. The day we arrived, it was so warm that we were wandering around in our late fall/spring/cold summer day garb, and the temperature refused to dip below the freezing point. In the last two weeks, there has been some snow (or perhaps "crystalized rain") that has lasted a good two or three hours on the ground at a time, and then some more to replace the centimeter that eventually disappears.

I remember a bit beyond two years ago, I had just started my driving lessons at around 5 pm, at the Tecnic school near the Terminus Les Saules. It was snowing incessantly, and terrifyingly dark; my driving instructor was amazingly calm and terrific, and I managed to go through the first few lessons without actually hitting anyone or anything. I even managed at most two drivers honking at me, so I think I did alright.

Flash forward two years, and here I am, zipping around town more or less shaking my fist at every douchebag on the road who doesn't signal, doesn't know how to take turns at the stop signs, keeps sticking close to my rear, and passes from the right. And don't get me started on the crazies who like to drive while talking on their cell phones, because it drives me absolutely nuts.

Also, I just got a cell phone. :| It is a prepaid card with Telus and it costs me just as much money to send as it does to receive calls, and marginally less to send text messages so I would only use it if/when things get bad. Like the other morning when the driver side door didn't let my key unlock it, and the passenger side door wouldn't close! Then I called Jorgh from the parking lot to get him to wake up and stumble down the stairs of the apartment complex, out the door and help me resolve the problem, and all it took was 5 minutes of warming up the car to get the door to finally close. It must have been a ghost...

In other news, I started teaching last Monday at the school. It is quite, quite, quite small; in fact, so small you would think it just opened a scant 7-8 months ago. Which it did. There are exactly three classrooms in use, and three teachers who teach at completely different blocks. In fact, the calculus is the first and only class of the period, and the other two periods are occupied by chemistry and english at the same time. And, until just recently, I had exactly one student in my second period math class: she got promoted to the chemistry class, so I have to compensate that loss of class with two or three club periods at lunch.

I would say that it is an insane amount of work for one or two classes, but I am actually enjoying putting together the class. It entails following the course profile and curriculum of the class, trying to make sense of the crazy-long activities listed in there, and making the "daybook" (lesson plans) for each of these classes.

Now, during the training years, no one told me that I could condense all the lesson plans for each day into a lesson plan that can encompass the whole week, or several days. So I had briefly freaked out during the first two days discussing things with the principal on lesson planning when he told me that all I could do was take the previous teacher's daybook, replace the dates, and submit that as my own. Though it doesn't help that the daybook doesn't make any sense to me in that form.

So I spend the morning teaching, return to the apartment at around 1:30, sleep for several hours (yes, several), wake up and make supper, then work until 3 am writing the day plan. And I do mean DAY plan. So far, I have not gone beyond two days worth of day plans because I seriously don't know how long it would take these students to undertake any of the activities, despite the projected "2 hours" or "1.25 hours" they claim.

For a private school, the control of the discipline is genuinely upon the administration. I actually felt like every student in the class was scared beyond their wits to act out or speak out of turn simply because someone would kick them out of school for doing so. (And the kicking-out-of-school part is a bigger deal for them because they're all from Africa.) It took nearly three classes to get them to loosen up and feel (at least a bit) more comfortable asking a question. Fortunately, they are much more motivated in their learning than other places I have ever been, and they have little or no reason to resort to crazy antics.

Also, I have been told that the taxes were not witheld by the school, so I had a choice between being paid as an individual, or as a business. Thus, I should inquire more about registering as a business soon, as I can claim gas, car maintenance, the equpiment I bought, etc. The others even claim the heavier clothing they have to bring to school because the building is so cold sometimes even this blueberry would shiver.

To summarize the last few weeks in a few words, I would say that I am quite stressed with work but quite happy where I am. :):):)

Except for the hard water. But that's another thing altogether.

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Some sort of design-your-own dancing thing - I forgot why I didn't write anything about it earlier when I copy-pasted this link onto a blank post.

Let's Beautify the City

Quebec Urbain pointed out a piece from R-C, discussing the problem of abandoned and contaminated lots in Quebec. Within the comments, there was a link to the province's database of contaminated lots, which (un)surprisingly pointed out quite a few around here, due to all the different types of light and heavy industries, auto and truck service stations, and SPA(?!). There's even one down the street, behind the dentist's office (which very well might be a reason the dentist is relocating across the street). The disconcerting part of is that there are so many lots whose owners don't bother to pay to decontaminate the lot, just so they can sell it off or do something with it.

Which is why I was quite happy when the city bought out the long-abandoned and sucky corner of Masson and Père-Lelièvre and made it into a park. This should be done for "toutes les grosses intersections on retrouve un de ces terrains!"

KITTY^Infinity etc. Again

While visiting the SPA yesterday with a friend, who was rescuing some bunnies, I was beckoned over to a row of cages by a grey striped cat, mewing and extending its paws out of the cage. I think it was a female and about a year old; the only comment written on its paper was "plays rough." It let me touch its furry pads and whined as it woefully rubbed its back against the bars. About ten other cats were pathetically locked into these cages, either sleeping or mewing for attention. A black chubby one was lying on its back, meowing and staring up at me with bright yellow eyes. Attention was focused on the popular cage with four kittens playing together (then three, as one was quickly adopted by a little boy). Then my friend took out the first grey cat from the cage, petted it briefly, and set it back in the cage.

And I think that moment is the one I regret the most out of my whole life that I am yet still allergic to cats. :(

P.S. The dog room smelled terrible. :(

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The terrible highway du Vallon is now known as highway Robert-Bourassa, having been newly extended up beyond where I am, while none of its circulation problems were fixed up.

Popcorn Again and Other Blather

Not two days after my attempt at making caramel popcorn did my mum bring home a bag from Kernels. It seems an acquaintance at the mall who works there brought her the bag in exchange for sushi. And now I know why they call it Kernels - every other bite has a rock-hard pellet in it.

Ms C's Random Food Review, Part Million Twenty-Three

Today: Kernels Popcorn, Caramel

Comments: It arrived in a blue bag, proudly proclaiming it was popped freshly that day. It also arrived with the seal broken, my mum having opened it to eat some. I HOPE. The only contents are popcorn (and kernels, thank you very much Kernels) and caramel coating, so no nuts and other random metal bits to fuss about.

Review: If I hadn't burnt the caramel popcorn in the oven the other day, mine would be much tastier. (Yes, I know, I suck.) Generally speaking, the caramel of the Kernels popcorn is bland. Not much flavour other than sugartastic sweet. The popcorn was decent enough - fluffy, large, and fresh enough to last a day. The disadvantage of old popcorn without flavouring or fancy coating is that it gets gross and stale quickly. Also, anyone who has ever made their own popcorn from kernels and a stovetop or air popper will tell you that microwave popcorn and popcorn sellers are ripping you off into oblivion.

Rating: Three / 5

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I calculate that a supply teacher in this city can work about four days a month to cover the rent. '_'

Yesterday, I went to an elementary school to supply; this being my second time doing elementary, it was just as I expected from the first time, without all the fights breaking out every ten minutes. Like a hockey game! Furthermore, I have never been in a school that I have become lost in so quickly. It's like one of those dreams where you walk down a hall and up or down stairs, follow random people, and find out you're in a completely different building.

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Within a few days, Ian should be in town to visit. I had told him to come while the autumn colours were still around, but that rain-and-wind-storm from last weekend pretty much blew off all the leaves around here. Hence, he'll have to settle for drab November and all its dull glories.

Retro-Posted Post-Post... Post?

Here's a June 2006 post whose "Publish Post" button I just clicked today. I don't remember why I kept this in the draft stage and forgot it for so long, since I had written it all and clicked "Save as Draft." Moral of the story: publish whatever. Nevertheless, there's a Globe and Mail article in the post whose link still works, so read of the Demise of the Quebec City China Town.

Yeah, sorry about that. Ugh, well... The author, as far as I remember, writes about the fact that there was a Chinese community in Quebec City around the early days after the wars. They established themselves in Quebec near the old port, at the foot of the Citadel and the old city, and in the St-Roch area. They had built quite a few things there, and had been doing pretty well until the development of the giant overpass. The government made a highway that leads from upper town (directly from the National Assembly building) to Beaupré and beyond, but that meant making giant pillars and the overpass throughout the lower city; many buildings had been appropriated and thus started part of the the exodus of Chinese. Nowadays, you'll find the buildings but not the businesses nor any sign that they existed, despite the historical significance of the area. And the Wok-N-Roll. The old grandma from that restaurant passed on recently, and she was probably one of the last remaining "old ones" that would probably be able to tell first hand of these events. The last thing about the Chinese in QC is that they are still around, but not in any centralized area, so a Chinatown is not feasible to establish at this time. As far as I know, new Chinese immigrants to the city are mostly studying or working in the university, or looking to work in the restaurants.

There should be some discussion on the Quebec Urbain blog and the forum about the defunct Chinatown revival project, though I have no idea where it is.

Mini Rest

I took a few days away from blogging because I realized I had nothing constructive to say, and stories don't come so easily.

Anyway, Davy and Stefan (?) are going to come to Quebec City tomorrow, and we're taking a day trip to Chicoutimi to pick blueberries. I should also prepare for the next wedding in Toronto, next Saturday the 19th, thus once again I will be heading south for a while.

Lil V is back from China and she's got stories to tell. Right? :D

I'm sorry I missed brem's birthday. I hope you had a good one!

Jorghnassen's likely to head to UWaterloo in the fall, once he's finished his Ph.D. thesis, and I think it's also likely that I will be going with him when time comes. (You know. Guys.) It's not so likely that I will have a job myself when I get there, so I'm still kind of holding out on whatever will keep me around here.

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Now I know my mum is certifiably insane and probably has Alzheimer's, not to make light of those who have acute cases of this disease. Some years ago while I was in Montreal, she brought me a pair of shorts that are pink, red, and white checked, too small for me at the time, and absolutely hideous. She claimed that they were cheap from Simons (probably knowing her, "2 bucks!"), thus I should wear them. I was fortunately too tubby to fit into them so I hid them away (except for one day where I had a lapse of judgement and there are photographs to support this... Lil V would know).

Today, my mum washed all my wearable shorts, and thus I am stuck with... the hideous shorts that I would only consider wearing if all my other summer clothes were in the wash and I wasn't going anywhere. (Maybe I should have put on my suit.)

She looked at them and said, "What the hell are those?"
"You bought them."
"No way! YOU must have bought them because they were on sale!"
"Nooooooo way in hell would I have bought these on sale."
"Yes, you said they were '5 dollars!'"
"Goddammit! I would have never bought anything this ugly!!!"
"See? They're ugly."

This is me.

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Salon has a literary guide on Montreal. Personally, I don't feel as I know Montreal as well as some of you out there, because I've lived outside of Montreal about 80% of my life. Alas, as one of the comments put it, "Quebec is more than Montreal." And Montreal's not quite Quebec.

Bwawston

Jin! Jiiiiiiiiiin! Bwawston. Bwawston. Bwaaaaawston... Schouwa... schouwa...

To fully appreciate this hilarity, you have to follow this story.

Rachel, her brother Pat, and I took a weekend trip to Boston (that inadvertently led me to a week-long trip away from Quebec City). Since I had never taken a real trip to the states, I thought it would give me a good opportunity to experience the Real American Way of Life and discover why people seem to characterise americans the way they do.

The roads are absolutely wonderful. Our pathetic rented PT Cruiser experienced nothing but potholes and rocky stretches of Quebec bacon-for-roads. We spent half an hour waiting at the border going to the states, and then suddenly all the asphalt smoothed itself out like a bedsheet after a restless night.

Our drive through Vermont was quaint and picturesque. It seems that the highway cuts through the sides of green hills overlooking lush valleys dotted with farms and cows. New Hampshire was pretty much the same, and it was a hop and a skip to Massachusetts. (I don't think I've learned so much american geography over the years as I did in the last two days, but I suppose that's what happens when you travel.)

Boston is a very nondescript place if you're not looking for it. The distinct New England style houses and buildings don't make it stand out so much, as much as if a certain someone would stop and actually let me get out and look at them.... The massive underground highway project aptly named the Big Dig doesn't stick out from the skyline (not that it should anyway). The most exciting eye candy of the city is a large white bridge leading into it, composed of thick wires and probably kryptonite as far as I know, glowing eerily into the night. Actually, I didn't get to see much of Boston, having only spent half a day sightseeing at the Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market.

Jin told us that the Bwawstonians don't pronounce Faneuil as we French-literate would (fan-oeil') but like some twisted, half-blind anglos would (fan'-iel... rhyming with Daniel).

On Saturday, we were treated to a breakfast at the IHOP, not at all because Jin doesn't have food at her home since I had arrived with two dozen St-Viateur bagels... but rather because she doesn't eat at home regularly. Considering that she doesn't really know how to cook (ok, not at all), we went out for every single meal.

The waitress was a very portly but charming woman, who would respond to each of our requests with a very Bwawstonian "Schouwa!"

"Can I have the whole wheat pancakes?" I asked.
"Schouwa! What can I get for you to drink?"
"Uh, some water please?"
"Schouwa!"

So to sum up the dining experiences in Boston, the portions are grotesquely and ridiculously enormous. The IHOP pancakes came in a stack of FOUR, and they are just as large as the pancakes I make, and probably 50% thicker. Rachel and I could only finish about 2 of our 4 pancakes each, and we were ready to explode. Every single other food place we visited gave us about 50% to 100% more than a normal serving size here. We had split a two-person meal at a portugese restaurant that could have easily fed a family of four. Nonetheless, the food is excellent and reasonably priced, but it's a pity that the american way of thinking of "value for money" trumps "giving reasonably sized portions without excess."

Jin also mentioned that her parents thought she had gained ten pounds since she arrived in Boston (which she had). Though she's as thin as a beanpole so ten pounds doesn't show at all.

A lot of our time was spent shopping. (Jin. 'nuff said.) The sales tax is 5% but doesn't apply to purchases of clothing or food below $175 I belive. So to sum up, it would have been advantageous to buy things in Massachusetts if not for the rate of exchange and all the other costs that we accumulated just to get to a place to shop. (We would have broke even, but I don't really like shopping anyway.) We went to a massive outlet mall on Sunday that was crawling with SUVs and other large vehicles, in the middle of nowhere. Rachel bought two watches, one for Pat. I bought a watch for Jorgh. Jin bought a metric ton of stuff including six or seven similar shirts and other things that I've forgotten already because we spent 7 hours at the place and my brain cells were just as fried as both my knees and feet.

But the highlight of that Sunday was the visit to Cracker Barrel. We had yet another breakfast/lunch at this place, where we were exposed to the peculiar homestyle favourite "Dumplins," composed of flour and probably goo. The young waitress had a habit of peppering her waitressing with "awesome"s. But the real gem of the experience was the gift shop.

Since there's usually a long wait time between tables, the ingenious management incorporated "old style item gift shop" concept in the same building. They sold various crafts and gadgets, candies, decorations, and toys. One particular toy was an electronic toucan that twice repeated whatever was said towards it in a higher pitch. So when Rachel saw this, she told me to fetch Jin and she would speak into the toy and let Jin listen to it.

"Jin! Jin! Hi, Jin!" it squaked. Jin started laughing. "We're in Bwawston. Bwawston... Bwawston..." and it went on.

Then Rachel went a bit further and the bird then squacked the infamous line:

"JIN! JIIIIN! JIII-IIIN!!! Bwawston. Bwawston. Schouwa. Schouwaaa... Faniel! Faniel!"

The best part was that the rest of the day, we would tease her with more gems like "But Jin, why couldn't you convince them otherwise? We thought you were a loyah!" Bwawston loyah. Yeah.

Finally, that evening we had supper at another restaurant but Jin wanted to pay for all our meals. We insisted on us paying our own parts, but she didn't want our money. So I said, "Jin, if you don't then we'll just have to make you take it!"

So Rachel, Pat and I squaked JIIINs, Bwawstons, Schouwas and other terribly accented things for another 15 minutes until Jin squealed out that she gave up. By that point, I was laughing so hard that I was tearing up and couldn't breathe properly, rolling around on the table. The other restaurant patrons were giving us weird looks as we were leaving but I couldn't help myself.

To sum up my trip, I learned that the culture of excess reputation is not at all unwarranted, and it was great fun to bug Jin all weekend.

Tomorrow I will be heading to Waterloo with Jorghnassen for his talk, and we'll be returning home (myself to Quebec City) on Friday afternoon.

Emergency PowerPoint?

Probably one of the few things I got out of education courses at McGill was the importance of making a decent PowerPoint presentation. Really, if I wanted to spend 5K a year for five years to learn to use PP, I would have just had to buy the fricking thing and sit here reading a layout manual.

Anyway, I don't have a lot of fantastic ideas on how to make a good presentation. I'm far, far, faaaar from being any professional in layout or graphic design. I have only a few pointers for some of you who might be kind of lost...

• Pick a clean font. Not Comic Sans. (This gets a bit more complicated because you have to package uncommon True Type fonts with your presentation...)


• Keywords, not entire paragraphs.


• Put in as many large, high quality relevant images and/or graphs as possible. Not on the same slide.


• You're presenting the slides, not the other way around... unless you're trying to be clever.

Jorghnassen had been here since Monday to have me help him put together his PP presentation for a talk. Yes, a 3 hour trip here just so I personally would do it for him. :) But it is a very important talk - scheduled just for him at UWaterloo next week. And, since I am certain that he'll get completely befuddled in Ontario due to the mass crowds of Ontarians, I'll be going along with him for the three days.

I don't really like PP. It does the most ridiculous and idiotic things, like changing its mind every few seconds and either allowing you to use different symbols and fonts in a text box... or not. It also doesn't like it when you want to make a minor change in its organizational chart wizard, since a mere human doesn't know what he or she really wants.

On the other hand, some people like PP for its preset elements you can choose from, like templates and colour schemes. There are some mighty ugly ones in there (COMIC SANS), but the choice is still there. And since Jorgh has a really hard time choosing things, the numerous but limited choices gives him (at least) the illusion that he can come to a decision.

Now there's just a few slight problems with using PP... not everyone has it, and not everyone uses Windows (no, really???). Fortunately, for the hapless Windows users, there is the PP viewer so you can knock yourselves out on that one. Also, fortunately for the "everyone else" user, there is Open Office that has a compatible tool, Impress.

Jorgh has a different problem though. He tends to be clueless about the computator and all its inner and outer workings, though he's smart as a whip and cute as a button and all sorts of other nice idioms. Thus, he came all this way to have me make his presentation.

That's okay, since I don't have anything else to do. :(

Two Cities Two Events

Both start today.

Fantasia 2006 - [July 6-24] Montreal film festival that I used to attend when I first started my studies at McGill. I stopped going when I felt that it had become too large and inconvenient to stand in line for four hours for tickets to movies that the scalpers would buy up just before reaching the ticket booth. (Trust me, I know.)

Festival d'été - [July 6-16] Quebec City music festival held in Vieux-Quebec. I have gone only once many, many, many years ago, and found it completely baffling why anyone would want to wander around in streets of massive crowds with expensive blinking badges, and entering badge restricted zones - only to be unable to see or hear bands due to the massive blinking badge crowd inside said restricted zones. Montreal Jazz Festival is much more accessible because of the lack of badges, but it is also privy to even more phenomenally sized crowds. (Thus, one must consider that the Quebec music festival doesn't get as much attention as the Jazz Fest so they have to recoup the money by selling said blinking metal thingies.)

Chinatown... QC?

My family has not been as long-established in Canada as those who came and made this almost fabled Chinatown QC that the Globe and Mail talks about, but we still exist nonetheless. My parents both came over during the fifties and sixties, and as some of you might know, got married in Sept-Isles in the 70s (of all places...), and started their long and winding road to this city. We don't have many blood relatives, and we certainly don't have any of them in Quebec.

Nonetheless, it's absolutely fascinating how some of these people have firmly tried to root themselves in this city; thus, the Wok-and-Roll is probably the last bastion of the Chinatown described in this article. The old matriarch died not too long ago, at something like 100 years old... my mum would probably know more about that.

Why is it that people are not actively reinvesting in the Chinatown QC? Because all the young people are leaving or have already left. [I am aware that chinese students come to study but they don't really stay as much as any other international student.] The only old chinese still in this town are the parents and grandparents of the young people that they worked so hard to get better lives for. The Chinese laundries, restaurants, and other shops were not meant for their kids to take over and work long hours at dead-end jobs. They were meant to earn money for their children to gain the education and skills in the region's schools and programs to leave this town and become professionals.

Frankly speaking, QC has been quite disappointing for a lot of bananas like myself. We have advantages in so many ways that were never available to our parents. On the other hand, we no longer have the "new immigrant" status that they had, though we have a visible minority status. I won't go into how often we'd have to sit the fence between the white French (and English, I guess) and the Chinese point of views here, but it is very frustrating. On one hand, the white people are not racist and they are quite accommodating to the romantic ideas of the chinese and other people of asian origins settling in the region. On the other hand, once these immigrants are no longer immigrants but second generation, there's no letting go of the "Oh that's a pity you've lost all your culture" facade.

It's hypocritical and kind of insulting to expect that the second generation and onward of any immigrant family will be able to hold on to a culture that doesn't exist in the place where it grew up. Other than ghettoizing or isolating our immigrants and creating "home away from home" neighbourhoods like Chinatowns, we don't always have the means to stay in touch with our roots. Sure, we are exposed to many of our parents' and grandparents' ways of life but there's only so much that can be done at home. How much more can be done without more immersion? What extent of "culture" would one expect this person to be able to display to people who ask for it?

Also, a professional who is of a visible minority still doesn't strike me as an image that seems to be comfortable to the white French and English. If it were the case, I would really like to see local ads and billboards to show that. And if it were really the case, I'd also like to see more of these professionals practicing their trades in QC.

Yes I Was Travelling.

I'm currently listening to this orchestral but hilarious History of Canada on CBC Radio One. Radio Two will be playing the program again.

Sunday June 11, 2006
From the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts at the University of British Columbia
the CBC Radio Orchestra welcomes Canada's favourite storyteller, Stuart McLean - the
host of Vinyl Café - for a program of words and music
Stuart McLean, narrator
Mario Bernardi, conductor
CBC Radio Orchestra
Clifford Crawley: Overture on a Canadian Theme (or two)
Cameron Wilson & Stuart McLean: History of Canada
John Beckwith "Polka" from Music for Dancing
Cameron Wilson & Stuart McLean: I Remember Wayne (world premiere)

I went to Montreal this weekend, but it was a bit too hectic to do much. So you'll have to forgive me if I haven't called anyone nor posted. On the other hand, I witnessed PJ getting a nice suit. Finally!!! (We'll have pictures up when he comes by later next week.)

I'll have to take back that "Worst Onramp 3V4R" on the Quebec map that I commented on. I haven't driven very much throughout this city, just up to boonytown Valcartier and back. I avoided going on the highway, due to my complete disdain of Quebec drivers stemming from the funeral incident.

But I decided after having sufficient experience, I was ready to tackle the disgusting roadways of Quebec near the bridges. My mum had warned me that it was kind of crappy.



For the first time driving by myself, I actually thought I was going to die. There are stop signs on the onramps. Mysteriously appearing onramps. LOTS of mysteriously appearing onramps. And then a really weird curve in the road. With an onramp on both sides mysteriously appearing. LOOK.

If the highways look like spaghetti to you, that should explain why Quebec drivers are completely insane.

Run for the Cure 2006

Dear Reader,

Once again I am participating in the Run For the Cure, where I train by running, from being a blob of goo to becoming an average-fit Canadian and actually accomplishing a 5 km run around the old city. This time around, though, I have started much, much earlier and my goal is to make the 5 km below 25 minutes. (Or not.) Either way, I will still be raising funds and I hope that you can help me reach the $150 goal.

Last year's $300 was quite wonderful, mostly due to one anonymous donor helping me reach the threshold of registration-waiving. :):):) Although I am grateful for this benevolence, I don't think it could be repeated, so my goal this year is once again $150.

I registered for the Quebec City run, Sunday, 1 October 2006. I'll leave the progress report to the very end where we can all analyse my lack of routine.

Thanks for your support!

Yours truly,
Ms C, the blob

Tales of Quebec City and Her Disgusting Ways

I was watching this guy (probably from the apartment building across the driveway) sweep around the garbage bin. Oh my god, I thought. Maybe the landlord or someone with a brain finally decided to pick up all the crap around the driveway and parking lot. Maybe they're actually going to sweep the entire lot! Maybe, just maybe, someone will remove that huge branch that got cut off the tree, and pull up the roots of the smaller tree that got chopped down for absolutely no reason!

The guy pushed the broom around the parking space behind the garbage bin, spreading the sand and junk a bit more, shoveled up the crap and disappeared.

Just when I thought that people around here couldn't be more selfish or stupider.

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I have determined that it is frustrating to live in this city. I found that I am not alone, though, as I browsed the shallower depths of the internet.

Though Jorghnassen is constantly skeptical of the wild animals of the internet, I truly believe that a guy is currently stranded in Vieux-Quebec and is seeking aid. His story is that he was fired from a language monitor job at a school on the south shore, and he is living in a hostel on his last small change. (But there's more to that story.) Of course, I am also skeptical of anyone I don't personally know on the internet, but I could not help but feel terrible that nobody on the SA forum could volunteer to help the guy. Why? Because there just isn't anyone of the registered hundred thousand people living in this particular city.

Jorghnassen is completely against helping the guy out, but I can't help him either because I don't have a forums account, I don't trust internet strangers any more than he does, and I don't have a way to contact him anyway.

The second story I will tell is about a woman who is apparently "hanging by a thread" living here. She is just as frustrated at not having employment and having little career options for a person from the West. (Oh those ROC-ians.) I made some suggestions to her (you'll be able to tell by the comments), as she seems to think that the only options here are telemarketer, interviewer, or webcam-whore.

Well, maybe. I'd like to think that even unilinguals can still survive here by not remaining unilingual.

It remains to be seen if I should start forming a community of frustrated anglos living in Quebec City. The VEQ really isn't doing a great job retaining us pathetic young people. :(

Happy Mother's Day!

My mum and I were debating on whether we should go to the flea market in Ste-Foy yesterday or just go home. She says that she enjoys looking at junk and not buying it versus actually buying useful things. Although last week, she did start eyeing the suspicious looking 80s pattern chairs (you know, charcoal flecked with random green and pink specks - I'm sure you had something like this in your house) and then I said "Let's get outta here." I think if I had a couple of bucks to set on fire, I'd do that instead.

I planted beans outside in the garden that I dug up. I just hope that nobody steals our beans or sprouts like during the year my dad died - they stole our melons. >:( As I previously mentioned, there are rednecks as far as the eye can see around here, so what would they do with a chinese melon?

Our garden is too desolate for any sort of raiding though. For now, there are only tulips growing by the side of the building, left by my brother from several years ago. There are also metric tons of vines overgrown on the fence that nobody ever tends to, so I take it upon myself to cut back some of the vines. I don't even think the landlord intends to do anything about them. In fact, they were creeping across the entire lawn last year before I viciously pulled them out of the ground and slashed the bastards to death.

Soon the rain will come. When it does, the vines will start showing their leaves. That is when the massacre will begin. Mwa ha ha ha ha!!!

Tour of My Neighbourhood

Following my habit of reading the SA forum, not joining because it costs $10US (although that might change into $10CA at this rate) and then posting about the topic here, I give you a Tour of My Neighbourhood (versus "Tour of My Town" because I really, really don't know that much, come to think of it).




WARNING: large file size (~2 MB)
Goddamn let me fix this problem... >:( Picasa won't let me send large photo sizes :(

EDIT: OK, I've made the above image into an image map, so you'll have to click the different quadrants to get one part at a time.

Those of you who aren't too familiar with Quebec, there's very little public transit going out to the really boonie-like places. For instance, the movie theatre does have a bus line going there... once every two hours or something equally as ridiculous. Also, the entire city is white so there's not much reason to put "REDNECKS LIVE HERE" everywhere.

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Yet another article about Islands. Hilarious (and at the same time, NOT hilarious) if you know what is going on there, and you know who the article is talking about...