We were supposed to get another 35cm, but the snow turned to pelting freezing rain and today the temperature was above zero. It might be the stress of the upcoming move to another country and all the work that comes with finishing the term, but the melting snow is making me feel sad. I really do miss the cold weather that I grew up with, and the prospect of going back to weeks on end without seeing the sun is unappealing. Happily, the whole household took a break last night, bundled up and spent an hour or so pelting each other with snowballs. Everything looks so clean and festive under a layer of snow.

I am getting things done

√ Student visas collated
√ Tax forms collated
√ Visa forms and enclosures sent to the capital
√ Send mail to the Tax Man
√ Landlord called
√ End of tenancy notice drafted
Grading done

I thought I had won a major victory with the landlord. He agreed to immediate repairs, apologized and agreed to a rebate on rent. I asked for a small amount to cover the time between Sept to December, and he agreed. He showed up an hour later, with a cheque for a quarter of what I asked for. I am so sick of dealing with this thing.

ETA: I just checked the ad for our flat. As predicted, he's asking for almost $200 more per month than we are paying. Secret message to slumlord: you have one more chance to make this right, then we'll be seeing you at arbitration.

I made it back in one piece, with lovely views coming in to the city through snowclouds to the stormy seas below. The satellite tv on board was rubbish practically the whole flight, but I kept watching and have thus transported 40 student papers across the continent, twice, without even looking at them. Luckily there are snow closures right now, or I'd be in trouble.

One room of the house is toasty warm, the others are just marginally warmer than outside. It's -8 right now, and there are icicles on the inside of the windows. Fun, eh?

Today will be marking, final submission of all visa documents to the embassy, hot chocolate and walks outside. It's icy as hell, but I got my embarassing fall-in-public moment out of the way last night when my suitcases managed to negate my balance on an ice patch, so hopefully today will be spent with a little dignity. I'm kidding myself on this point, but it's nice to start the day with a little hopefulness.

Coming home soon. Will be arriving mid afternoon, grading the whole flight, most likely. Save me some snow out there, I'm already tired of warm weather and sunshine.

GSH

How to ruin your career

In six easy steps:

1. Do stand-up even though you have little stand-up experience
2. Have a major chip on your shoulder about your lack of current success
3. Meltdown onstage when you get heckled
4. Get offensive. Then get really offensive. Then get unforgivably offensive. Aaaaand repeat.
5. Wave goodbye to your audience, your dignity and the last shreds of your career.
6. Make friends with Mel Gibson, god knows you'll need him in the lonely days ahead.

I'm working on my student's assignment for this week's class. Let's just say that I'm less than inspired. In a few days, I walk across the stage to get my degree, run to class, teach and then jump on a plane the next morning.

My mom called just now. My granny died a few minutes ago in hospital.

Mmmm, homemade soy latte made with boiled water from the forest floors of the North Shore. A true woodland treat. Day 4 of the boil water advisory started with sun, but has moved on to threatening clouds. And more cloudy, turbid water. The water from the tap is just a shade lighter than the colour of the water that leaks into my hallway from our rotten roof. Yes, the letter to the landlord has been drafted and will be sent out after it is ratified. In it I ask for a refund on the rent increase that he started charging in the summer. How many want to place bets that he's going to ignore it completely since it asks for actual money back?

I think, despite the inconvenience, that there are some positive aspects to the boil water advisory. If nothing else, it should make people start realizing how much we take clean water for granted and how easily our supply can be imperiled. Unclean water is a reality for most of the people in the world, when it is available at all. Even in Canada, where a large percentage of the world's clean water rests, 76 First Nation reserves have been under long standing boil water advisories. Some communities are facing the issue of relocation due to unclean water. And here in the city, we waste it just cuz we can. We use pure tap water to clean our cars, hose down the sidewalk, flush our toilets and water our ugly lawns.

The negative impacts are felt most by the poorest populations in the city. Access to good water is already an issue, and now people are going for days without drinking, because it's not safe. This is a public health issue in more ways than one: if you are street involved, or living in an SRO, there is a likehood that you may be dealing with health issues as well. There is an HIV/HepC co-infection epidemic in this city, and the most vulnerable to water-borne illnesses are those with weakened immune systems. The elderly, who make up a large segment of the low income population are also at risk. CBC, at least, has been addressing the issue. The other news outlets have been focusing on how hard it is to get a cup of coffee in the city's coffee shops. Priorities anyone?

I'll just keep boiling away here and hoping that the rainwater doesn't bring the roof crashing down.

Part II, states of literary satisfaction

So, we made it in time, found the venue and saw David Sedaris read some new stories. Got a preview of his upcoming (perhaps now published) New Yorker piece. He's a very entertaining and comfortable speaker, but some people left after his first long piece, all offended and huffy. Who did they think they were coming to see?

Meeting Sedaris was quite fun, since he makes an effort to chat with everyone in the line. He later told the crowd that he livens his signings up by asking questions of every person he signs for. For example: "when was the last time you touched a monkey?". The inscription in my friend's book read "I'm so glad you're alive".

After American-sized portions of burgers and fries (just say no to "jo-jo's") the drive back over the 49th went by fast and painlessly.

Obviously, November is not going to be the month that I write a novel. Between teaching, marking, invigilating and moving out of the house I've been in for two years, there just isn't the time. So I'm going to use my little counter on the right to encourage blogging instead. I have a few issues, pedagogical and otherwise, to discuss and update. I'm going to use my widget for something damnit.

As you may have guessed, my stack of undergrad essays teetered menacingly, then fell over, burying me in an avalanche of plagiarized papers and bad grammar. I lay under the pile for days. I managed, heroically, to mark my way out after many days and thoughts of gnawing my own arm off. 80 papers down, another 96 to go at the end of the month. Please. send. help.

Crossing borders for literature

Part I

Last night a packed Corolla headed South towards Bellingham, occupants hoping to avoid a search at the border because our pre-trip fuel up at the coffee shop had made our departure a bit later than planned. The American guard knew David Sedaris and waved us through, after the cute little explosives & drugs-sniffing black Lab pranced around our car boot. Canada Customs, it should be noted, does not seem to put enough effort into acquiring cute little drug dogs. Returning to our country, through the construction site that welcomes all visitors to our side of the 49th, a border guard barely deigned to interrupt her conversation to ask us if we'd bought anything. She totally didn't believe us (heck, I didn't believe us) and yet was too bored and laissez-faire to bother searching us. No Black Lab love for the trunk, sigh.

We drove around in the dark, contemplated our collective lack of American coins for parking meters and made it in time for the pre-talk signing. Sedaris is an entertaining book signer, making lots of small talk and drawing funny things in our books. He likes to ask oddball questions, and told us anecdotes about taking a $40 cab ride to Richmond's "2 dollar" store. He decided to just take the bus back. Can you imagine bumping into David Sedaris on the 98Bline express bus? I don't think I'd even notice, come to think of it, but it does make one wish for a temporal fold to make it a possibility.

Part II to come after more marking.

Yes, 83 words. I'm on my way!

It might seem laughable. I barely update here, and I have almost no time this month that isn't slotted for something else, but I thought I'd sign up and see if having a widget would motivate me to do something of a written nature. I've got no idea how to write a novel, and I may end up just writing some short story scraps or some articles or something, but it'll be nice to feel external pressure to write.

I have lots going on, and lots to tell about travels, teaching and seeing a major rockstar academic in the flesh. But I'm also kinda burnt out. I haven't been sleeping well for weeks, something about never adjusting to the time change. I'm hoping to catch up on lost sleep tonight, look to tomorrow for an update.