Maine, though, not Florida.
My sister found a little bitsy crab.
I used to catch them, too; we had crab races. The little ones never won, of course, but they’re so cute.
This morning we walked on a lovely path beside the ocean, a bit south of the beach proper. I want a house like these.
Though I think I’d prefer one even closer to the beach. In the winter, though, this would be lovely.
Rana talks about feeling incompetent.
Yes, I know quite how that feels. Not that I felt competent or anything in grad school, or ever, except, possibly, in my early teenage years and before, but that sometimes felt better, like I was — I don’t know — doing something that affirmed my abilities, in some vague and not actually real way.
Now . . . well. I get an email from someone who was a reasonably good friend in high school. We drifted apart after graduation. She’s organising the 10 year reunion.
Part of me is just plain happy about this. We were a small class (43 graduated, or so), and I am curious about what quite a number of people are doing. I was on the side of most of the cliques, so I don’t feel I need to be proving myself. A friend does, in a way I don’t entirely understand. I know she will be there only if she is happy with her life, her job, her love life, her everything. Me? I’ll be there almost no matter. (The friend with whom I had discussed going is moving. To Prague. For med school. Which she apparently decided upon, applied for, and visited in the 2 months we didn’t email. I’m shocked. On the other hand, guess where I’m going to go for vacation next year? Of course I’m also happy for her; she was so unhappy in her job.)
But another part . . . the person organising this has been married for I don’t know how many years; she met her husband the summer after we graduated, they married 5 or 6 years later, and now she’s pregnant. (And, oddly, in school to get her MLIS, or whatever they call it now, at the same program my mother just finished.) I’m — unfinished? I don’t actually want to be married and pregnant, and I don’t know her life. But I feel like I’m faking this all. I’m not really an adult. I don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going. I’m (sigh) single, with no real prospects in sight. (And my grandmother’s illness has me slightly worried; I mean, I’d like to marry eventually . . . but while my grandparents are all still around. This is, I know, somewhat backwards.)
Graduate school . . . at least it was something. I mean, I could say “I’m a PhD student blah blah” and people would know what I meant. It would be something to say. What am I going to say? I dropped out of grad school; I moved back home; I’m single; I’m studying something *else*; I didn’t live up to half the promise I had.
Or something. Funny — just recently I was perfectly content with my plans. Now it just sounds sort of sad. And I never wanted a life I could brag about, I wanted a life I was happy with. Maybe I misunderstood myself. Maybe I was taken into a cult.
No, I don’t mean that seriously. But I don’t know where this vague dissatisfaction comes, except certainly that it has something to do with this whole high school reunion thing. I think it’s worth considering more, though. Because I am not ashamed of my plans to friends. Still, what do I say. I say I’m working as a linguist: fine. I don’t detail what it involves; it’s too boring. I’m what — a parttime not-really-artist? Why am I back to deciding who I am based on what I do? But how else do we do it? I can’t break out of this mold.
In any case, I suppose I will work this all out; or, I will ignore it until up comes whatever reunion happens and it will be over. But I want a life I’m not ashamed of . . . and leaving the PhD? Not over that, yet.
I need to find that contentment I had just recently; I want to have good and happy summers, not the depressive ones I’ve had every year but one (2002) for many years. I want to have a good and happy life, too: this summer would be a nice start.
Off in remarkably little time to Maine and a beach. Yes, my family is filled with a bunch of crazy people who leave at 5. But then we get there around 10 and have all day at the beach, and *I* don’t have to drive. We also drive straight from Montreal to Florida — why waste one night at a hotel in North Carolina? (Again, I don’t ever drive these things.)
Yay for beaches! Yay for the freezing cold Atlantic. (Or not so much yay on the freezing cold part.) Yay for lovely little craftsy stores all along the seacoast area.
Also I have been thinking about finances, and about LiL’s comments before. So, a question: would people be interested in buying any of my work? I’m not exactly ready to sell things yet, but it would be a nice way to get some income. I’d guess that a small pendant like the necklace I’m wearing would cost about 10$ (it’s the size of my thumb, since there are no actual landmarks), and about 30-40$ for a panel like the large pieces — the mask, the Marsscape, the cats. This would probably include shipping to Canada, possibly to the US. Note that the Canadian dollar is at 75 centsish to the US. I don’t know how well this would work — I don’t exactly have a zillion readers who’d keep buying — but for the meantime it could cover my glass costs. Which are, um, high. (They’d be higher if I had dichroic glass. Mmmm. Dichroic glass. Pretty.) I also make boxes and kaleidoscopes and stuff (no lamps yet), but those I’d need to think about more before being able to price. And my plan is eventually (by the end of the summer) to be able to make those glass bowls and vases. It’s weird to think my hobby might be worth money; I’m still not entirely sure I’d not be cheating people when I sold things. (See? Self-doubt isn’t limited to academia.) This is just one of a few possibilities, but I’d like to have an idea of whether it’s feasible or not. (Also, maybe, eBay?) Any ideas or comments or suggestions or whatever — that would be lovely. Here or emailing me at (thank you Natalie) wolfangel@gmail.com.
But until Tuesday (unless I hit an internet cafe on the way — not unlikely), happy not-a-holiday-weekend-anywhere-else-in-North-America-suckers, I will return with beach photos and maybe stories. Water, water.
Holiday, and of course I forgot to pick things up yesterday, so I can’t today, and I’m away for the weekend as of tomorrow Very Early. Oh well.
The first day we fused flat, which means that the things got melted until all the layers became one. But they fused too long and melted out significantly.
I made a few small pieces. Two of them looked boring, and the photos improved them not a whit. So no photos of them (but I learned something about it). One looked neat, and I’ve taken to wearing it as a pendant.
The last small piece I made was going to be a crescent-shaped pendant, which pretty much it is, but I have no idea what I will use it for. Possibly a pendant, possibly I will use it as part of a stained glass piece. I think it turned out nicely, but it’s a little boomerang-shaped for a moon, so I’m still deliberating.
I also made a “hey, I wonder what it will look like if” piece. As it turns out, it looks like a mask — the bubbles added to this piece, and it’s certainly my favourite thing from the weekend.
The sparkly green stuff is glass with mica in it, which I heart. (I’ve taken to that phrase.) It melts significantly less than other pieces. Unlike all the other stuff I made, the base on this glass is not clear. The main part is light blue, the “chin” is light green, and there’s a square in the middle that’s got both, so it turned out turquoise. The light streak in the forehead happened when I put a piece of light glass (maybe clear? I forget) on dark blue. You can add depth that way; it’s something I’d like to work on.
One piece I had ended up with holes and looked sort of . . . unfinished. So I put more glass in it, and refused (re-fused) it. I think it might need another fusing, though it worries me a bit, because that will be number 4 (first one is when it’s made), and this glass might devitrify. But if I let it cool slowly, I should be okay, I think.
I actually turned the thing upsidedown for the second fusing, which really adds depth (though it’s hard to see, in photos). The flower one is filled with frit, which is bits of ground up glass. The big empty hole will be filled with a piece of teal mirror glass, as a sort of lake. I will probably use this for a box top, though it’s a little misshapen for that.
On my second day, other than replacing the landscape (I call it a Marsscape because to my mind it looked like it was there; I don’t know why), I made a few other test pieces. One of them was intended to be like the mask, but it looks terrible — I didn’t take a photo of that; I will only when I’ve managed to get it to look better.
I did three small pieces, too. As you can see, it’s very obvious what the layers of glass were. My mother is going to hang it in the window. I rather like it.
Being a cat person, I always wanted to do something with cats. I have a piece I made of a cat — maybe I’ll dig it up and take a photo — but I find that copperfoil is too hard-edged for cats to look right. Fusion, however, isn’t. You can really see the layers here; as I mentioned, I don’t much like the look. I think fusing it a bit more (but not totally) would work best. (I intend to do as much. I’m also tempted to move up my kiln-buying to July, if I like the slumping class with the guy with 20 years experience.)
Up to the light, you can really see the red glass. Warm colours aren’t easy in glass (red is made with gold, so it’s superexpensive), and I find there are rarely any I like. But this, as an accent, works well. (Compare it to the mask, where it’s over light blue & green — the red there is very ineffective.)
You can really see how the mica sparkles in this photo.
I intend to use this one as a box — for myself, for once (though the box I am working on now is also for myself). At this point the plans are for it to have a mirror bottom (classic, but I’ve actually never made a box with mirror bottom; I like them better with glass bottoms) and red sides.
I haven’t posted my glass stuff because — well, because the way the stuff turned out the second day was seriously disappointing. I had asked to fuse our glass so it was sort of melty, but she said no, it had to be fused flat. In the end, the fusing didn’t come close to flat — it wasn’t even melty, the edges are still quite defined. So the stuff that I put together for one plan ended up looking, mostly, terrible. I have a few small pieces that will work in a mobile, one that may work as a box top (but may need to be fused more), another than may work (but may need to be fused more — neither all the way flat, necessarily, just meltyish), and one that is terrible and absolutely needs to be fused flat (which is how I designed it for in the first place).
Personally I am not sympathetic to the “hey, they need to learn too” school of thought when I paid over 150$ for the class and something like 75$ for the glass and another fusing would cost me 30$ from that place. It’s one thing that she needs more skills teaching — I was upset, but it was fine, because I learned best by doing — it’s another that she doesn’t have enough practice on this kiln (or any kiln) to know what happens. Also she doesn’t know half of the science behind it, which annoys me. The first day’s work all got bubbles. Another person’s work the second day broke, and mine looks all wrong. (Another reason I want a kiln: so I can fix these mistakes by myself. I’ve pretty much decided to get one in August when I get back from vacation, anyhow.)
I will post it eventually, but I remain disappointed by how it looks, so I can’t quite face it yet. Especially since some of the stuff from the first day looked really good.
Act your age? I don’t know. Sometimes. I don’t know what my age is supposed to be like.
Born on what day of the week? the child that’s born on the Sabbath day is fair and wise, good and gay
Chore you hate? Washing the floor.
Dad’s name? Allan
Essential makeup item? Mascara.
Favorite actor? None, really.
Gold or silver? Silver.
Hometown? Montreal.
Instruments you play? Not a single one. I managed to avoid piano lessons as a kid. I took 6 weeks of trumpet in grade 7, but that was it.
Job title? Linguist, I guess.
Kids? Nope.
Living arrangements? Just moved back into my parents’ place.
Mom’s name? Nancy.
Need? A kiln and some fusible glass, preferably in warm colours? Maybe that’s just a want.
Overnight hospital stays? None.
Phobias? Fear of heights, but it doesn’t reach phobia level.
Quote you like? Lots! Too many to mention.
Religious affiliation? Secular, sort of agnostic Jew.
Siblings? Two younger sisters.
Time you wake up? Recently around 8ish. It’s variable.
Unique talent? My hair can frizz out to double its size in 4 minutes on a humid day.
Worst habit? I’m very very lazy. Also I procrastinate.
X-rays you’ve had? In order: I broke my leg when I was 9; I had an x-ray at the start, and possibly a few while my cast was on. I had one set of my mouth done when I was a teenager, though I forget why. I had x-rays done of my hand when I broke my finger at 20. I had lung x-rays done later that year, but after my birthday, so when I was 21. I had x-rays of my hand done when I was looking to get reconstructive surgery on the finger, at 23 (procrastinate yay!), and then more x-rays done just before the surgery at 24.
Yummy food you make? Today I made a toasted almond buttercrunch pound cake and a hazelnut & chocolate loaf.
Zodiac Sign? Taurus. Not so much.
c/o Michelle
Shared another apple with my cat. Maybe I should’ve named her Eve.
1) Go to google.com and type in “You know you’re from (your state province here)…”
2) Pick out whichever list strikes your fancy and bold the ones that apply to you.
2b) Italize the ones you think are totally wrong.
3) Post it in an entry
. . . Canadian:
1. You’re not offended by the term “homo milk”.
More to the point, it’s normal, though I actually drink skim.
2. You understand the phrase “Could you pass me a serviette, I just dropped my poutine, on the chesterfield.”
Don’t say chesterfield.
3. You eat chocolate bars, not candy bars.
Caramilk! You’re missing out down south. (It’s the only chocolate bar I really love, though I’ll eat others on plane rides or stuff.)
4. You drink Pop, not Soda.
Soft drinks in Quebec. Only.
5. You know that a Mickey and 2-4’s mean, “party at the camp, eh!!!”
6. You don’t care about the fuss with Cuba. It’s a cheap place to go for your holidays, with good cigars and no Americans.
7. You know that a pike is a type of fish, not part of a highway.
8. You drive on a highway, not a freeway.
9. You have Canadian Tire money in your kitchen drawers.
All over. In my car, in my . . . anyways. I don’t even go there often.
10. You know that Casey and Finnegan were not part of a Celtic musical group.
11. You get excited whenever an American television show mentions Canada.
Oh, we all do. Then we get annoyed goes they get it all wrong.
12. You brag to Americans that: Shania Twain, Jim Carrey, Celine Dion & more, are Canadians.
13. You know that the C.E.O. of American Airlines is a Canadian!
14. You know what a touque is.
I still say it’s spelled tuque.
15. You design your Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.
Always. It’s cold by then. I never got to be a fairy, and princess outfits are . . . different, over big poofy jackets and pants.
16. You know that the last letter of the English alphabet is always pronounced “Zed”.
17. Your local newspaper covers the national news on 2 pages, but requires 6 pages for hockey.
No to the first, yes to the second.
18. You know that the four seasons mean: almost winter, winter, still winter, and road work.
19. You know that when it’s 25 degrees outside, it’s a warm day.
20. You understand the Labatt Blue commercials.
21. You know how to pronounce and spell “Saskatchewan”.
22. You perk up when you hear the theme song from ‘Hockey Night in Canada’.
23. You are in grade 12, not the 12th grade.
24. “Eh?” is a very important part of your vocabulary, and is more polite than,”Huh?”
I used to speak to my roomate and say things like “It’s a nice day, eh?”, and she’d answer me, thinking I was crazy for asking. I thought she was crazy for answering.
These have been going around for years, so they’re pretty good.
. . . Quebecois:
1.”Vacation” means going to Québec City for the weekend.
No way. Never.
2. You measure distance in hours.
Um. Is this not normal? I mean, I care how long it takes, not how far it is, right? Maine is 5 hours away, Boston just under 6, NYC about 6 and a half. Ottawa is a bit less than 2 hours away, Quebec City 3, Toronto about 5 1/2. I could not tell you how far any of them are.
Seriously, is this not what people do elsewhere? Why not?
3. You know several people who have hit deer more than once.
4. You often switch from “heat” to “A/C” in the same day.
Not often, but regularly enough.
5. You use a down comforter in the summer.
I’m too lazy to take mine off, but it’s not actually necessary for July or August.
6. Your grandparents drive at 120 km/h through 13 feet of snow during a blizzard, without flinching.
Only on the highways, and not at night.
7. You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend knows how to use them.
Actually, no, but because everyone else does. I do have an ice scraper, which apparently no one in the US does, because I had to lend it out dozens of times while I was there. It stays there in the summer, yes.
8. You design your kid’s Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.
9. Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.
Yup. Well. Sort of; sometimes they fill with ice.
10. You know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter,and construction.
We have summer! It’s the construction holiday — last two weeks of July.
