Post 66: Minty Fresh Spring

Today, it is sunny and lovely out. The birds are chirping and the sky is blue. But not the colour blue that would indicate a storm, the kind of light blue that makes you think it will be nice out. And for the first time in a long while, it actually is. It isn't California warm. It is more like a Southern California winter temperature.

But for those of us who have adapted to the cold and wet weather of the North-West, you know that sometimes that is the best you are going to get. 

Especially since less than a week ago I went out to the store and found myself being pelted with hail.

Along with summer comes summer fashions. I am no fashion expert. I'm not even really a fashion fan. I don't really like shopping either. It gets overwhelming after one or two stories and I just want to go somewhere quiet and alone. People in stores can be so...animated. They rush about and try a million things on, but buy nothing. They always seem to be shouting to someone on the other side of the store. It is just crazy!

So, with all that established I have recently developed what can best be described as an obsession with mint. The colour. It is like a pastel cross between aqua and green. I really like it. And peach. But mint more so.

I even got a mint coloured bag and mint coloured converse. I don't usually do pastels. Well, I never do pastels. But I also rarely do colours. Not that I dress in all black, but I do have a tendency to dress in darker clothes. Sometimes, I do almost all black with splashes of colour. Like dark jeans and a black sweater with a bright purple undershirt. So the purple stands out more. And as someone who has and does struggle both with weight issues as well as body image issues, knowing black is supposedly flattering can make it a more comfortable choice.

And yet, mint! I am obsessed with mint. And even peach. I wasn't as enthusiastic about peach as I was about mint, but when I tried on a peach sweater the sales woman and the person I was shopping with were so excited. They were both very insistent that I should wear the colour more often because not everyone can pull it off.  Not to say I didn't like it, but my liking it was more about the comfort and style than the colour.

I am glad that because it is one of the colours for Spring there is quite a lot in the colour, but am sad that like my favorite Starbucks drink, it will disappear at the end of the season.

I don't know if I have said it before in the blog, but the drink I am talking about is the Pumpkin Spice Latte. Sadly, it is only a Fall drink. So as soon as like December rolls around, my drink of choice disappears. And once Spring ends, I suspect Mint will disappear as well and new summer colours will come in.

Summer is usually when the pastels like Mint disappear and the bright colours come outs; bright reds and blues. Fall is usually brassy colours and muted shades of orange, red, and brown. Winter is all deep and dark shades of things.

But spring is the time for pastels, like mint.

I think it is interesting that seasons have colours in the first place. I mean, it makes sense. And yet, it seems weird. It makes sense colours would be darker in winter, because dark colours keep in the heat. It makes sense that summer colours are not dark for the same reason. The colours of spring and fall match the colours of the setting they are in. Spring is when flowers are coming into bloom, Fall is when the leaves are turning brown and red.

But, even with all that, it is strange that colours would be seasonal when they can be year-round. If people wear black all year round, why can't mint be all year round?

Perhaps I am veering a little off topic and into a random tangent. So, I will end the post here by once again restating that I am totally in love with the colour mint.

Post 65: I might 'B' disappointed.

So, as you may or may not know, the end of the Spring Semester is here. I got decent grades, B's. But, I don't really feel proud. I don't really feel satisfied. I have been told that it is good, that my school is famous for being tough about grades, that Canada has a different grading system, etc.

In the end though, B's just don't feel like A's. That is what I guess it really comes down to. That, and that I didn't get A's. Next semester, I plan to try really hard to get them. I want to get A's, but at the same time I don't want to feel disappointed with a B. A B isn't bad. I have friends and classmates who are happy if they get above a C. I have friends and classmates that are satisfied just getting a C.

Yet, here I sit disappointed with B's. I guess, I just feel like I can do better. Like I should do better.

Anyway, Canada does have a very different way of grading than the States.

Essentially, it looks like this:

Canada : 80+ = A 70+ = B 60+ = C 50+ = D 
America : 90+ = A 80+ = B 70+ = C 60+ = D 

It looks like it would be easier to get an A here doesn't it? After all it is 80% or higher. But it isn't. In the States, if you wanted an A you really only needed to do what they told you. An A was basically doing everything you were supposed to at the level you were supposed to do it. B was not quite, but almost. C was try harder. D was you're not really trying. In Canada (or at least at my University), A is exceeding expectations. It is you did everything you were told to and asked to do and then some. B is more of a meeting expectations. C is not quite, but almost. D is you're not really trying. 

So, when I see a B, I see not quite but almost. But I also see the percentage, I see it as in the C range, and it worries me. 

I think I can be overly focused on the grade itself rather than just trying my best. Which isn't uncommon, is it? People focus on a number or grade rather than what that number or grade means. 

In weight loss, people focus so much on losing weight that they aren't being healthy, yet the reason they are trying to loss weight is to be healthier. 

Students memorize terms and then spit them out on the test, but then forget them as soon as the class is over. But what does it matter to them, they got the grade they wanted. 

It is more important to get a good grade than to learn anything. This is something that comes up when people say that English is an easy major compared to the sciences. I disagree. Only partially because I know people who struggle at English and excel at Maths and Sciences, because it is partially dependent on your thinking process. 

But, also because it perpetuates a negative stereotype of the major that leads people looking for an easy degree to take it.

I know that yes, it is easier to get a C in English than Math for most people. However, if you actually want to learn something and truly get something out of your experience in the class, it isn't easy. Anyone can go over flash cards a few times and come up with on the spot B.S. that will lead them to a C, but to actually understand the message behind the writing and to learn what it is that the class is meant to teach is hard. 

People constantly complain about how they don't get poetry, well maybe if you had paid attention in English you would have, at least, some ideas. And really a lot of poetry can be interpreted different ways, is just being lazy or ignorant. People put a lot of effort into writing poetry, so to dismiss it without even trying is really rude. Even if the only message you get from reading something is surface level, that is still fine, as long as you tried. 

And yet, here I am, dreading a B. I did get something out of the class. I learned a lot of things I didn't know. I still remember most of the terms. I found a lot of the main ideas interesting. But, I am still obsessed with the letter 'B'. Because 'B' just echoes in my mind as 'almost'. 

Post 64: Pet Peeves Series - Unfinished Business

So, after giving a lot of thought about what I want to blog about this time, I came to the idea of pet peeves. But then I realized, if I am going to talk about pet peeves, I am going to start talking about my pet peeves, and if I start talking about my pet peeves I am going to rant. Since ranting tends to take up space and time and often brings up unpleasant feelings, like anger, I decided to break it up into a series. And thus, a series of posts on this blog will be born.

As this is the first post, I figured I should start off by talking a little bit about what pet peeves are before I talk about the pet peeve I have set aside as the topic for this post, "Unfinished Business".

A pet peeve is defined as, "a particular and often continual annoyance" or "an opportunity of complaint that is seldom missed". The second one is not so much accurate as amusing. Our focus should be on the first. A pet peeve is something annoys you. It is usually a small thing, like a little incident that acts like straw on a horses back. In itself, it isn't going to make you snap. However, repeatedly having to deal with it could lead to an outburst. 

The thing I choose as my pet peeve is like that for me. By "unfinished business" what I actually mean is when people intentionally leave things unfinished out of laziness. More specifically, when people leave one little sheet of toilet paper on the roll so they don't have to change it or when people leave two crackers in a box so they don't have to throw it away. 

It annoys me for so many reasons. For starters, it is actually quite rude. It is. If you need to use the restroom and find one sheet, well, you are in trouble. If you want crackers and they are gone, too bad for you. And as someone who has had to make grocery lists, seeing a box of crackers leads you to believe there are actually crackers. This doesn't just apply to crackers, it applies to everything. 

I have gone to get ketchup and it is empty, there isn't enough ketchup for a doll-sized burger, but people still put it back. 

The worst problem that came from this (aside from the bathroom situation) was when I cut myself and was bleeding relatively badly (looking back I probably should have gotten stitches) and I went to the cupboard and there were no band-aids. There were boxes with band-aid wrappers, but no band-aids. I spent ten minutes running around the house with blood going down my hand and arm, just trying to find a band-aid or something to put on it.

It was messy and bloody. In the moment, I was focused on finding a band-aid, but once I found one I was really annoyed that someone had put back empty containers. 

This is something that has become a pet peeve, I actually don't know if it was before then. It is possible that in that moment, it became a pet peeve and whenever a similar situation comes up it annoys me. 

I don't know. However, it is a pet peeve now. One that can cause me to feel like tearing out my hair. 

Maybe next time I will talk about some of the most and least common pet peeves, as well. 

Post 63: Customer isn't always right.

"The customer is always right", a saying that often floats around the service industry. Talking to some of my friends in the customer service field, I don't think everyone truly understands what it means. It doesn't mean that the customer is literally always right. Rather that you should treat them as if they were always right, by not correcting them and also by treating them with respect.

So, if they are eating steak and they say that is rare, instead of medium or medium rare, it would be rude to try and argue or contradict them. You can offer to take it back and cook it more, but arguing will only cause drama. While the person complaining may just be trying to cause trouble or get a free meal, arguing back will only cause more problems. And if that person doesn't come back, there is no real loss if they are only a troublemaker. But, the problem doesn't lie with them, it lies with the people around them. 

Diners around the table that is complaining won't know the whole story, all they will see is someone saying that their food isn't the way they want it to be and the attitude from the staff as confrontational. 

If someone comes into a clothing store, tries on a size 6 and says it is too small for them, so it must be sized wrong. Don't argue with them. If you tell them that they are not actually a size six, they are going to take it as you're saying that they are heavier than they think they are. If they are already so concerned that they automatically assumed they couldn't be a higher size, then they are already on the defensive. I'd say the best thing to do, would be to offer to get them a higher size and say that some of the styles run small. Which is true for a lot of brands and stores, so it won't be a lie but it will not cause an issue.

Anyway, this will be a short post. I just wanted to point out what this saying means, at least as far as I understand it. Maybe it depends on whether it is food, fashion, or general service based. 

But the key thing, whether I'm right about the meaning or not, is respect. But that is really something that should be universal no matter what you do or who you are.

That is all you are going to get out of me tonight. Will try and write something for easter tomorrow. 

Best wishes. 

Post 62: On the Road to Grandmother's House

So, late last night 2/3 of the Step-Babbler family, my mother, and I all headed out to cross the border into the States on the way to Grandmother's house.We got in pretty late, but not as late as I usually stay up. Right now I am writing this on my phone as we are on the road again.

We have four people, a dog, and lots of suitcases all crammed into the car. It isn't a lot of room, but it isn't that bad. It is still more room than you are given on an airplane. Unless you are in first-class. 

By the way, has anyone ever seen the new first-class rooms that some airline has developed? They have a door that closes and a little bed and a tv. It is practically like a mini-hotel room. It has to be a really long flight for it and an expensive ticket, but it still looks pretty awesome. 

Anyway, here we are rolling along on the way to Grandmother's house. And if you are, at this point, conjuring up the image of a short, elderly woman, heavy set with white hair and an apron on, clear that image out of your head this instant! 

That is not what my grandmother looks like, or is like. She isn't much a fan of cooking, but she has recently gotten into blogging (it's a family thing now). She doesn't have white hair, she isn't heavy set, and she is probably about 5'10. She also goes on walks and hikes fairly regularly. So, take that stereotypes! 

We are heading down for the Easter weekend. Since I am between finals and everyone else is on vacation. 

Forecast says, it will be a lot of fun! I will get to see my grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle, and cousins. And I will also get a chance to study on a nice outdoor swing in the sun, as opposed to my room in the basement listening to rain hit my window. 

I still have one final left. I already did three, though. They were quite literally back to back. (12pm -3pm, 3:30pm -6:30pm, then 8:30am -11:30am the very next day). But I am feeling good about them, a little nervous, but good. I also got my term paper back, A-. Which I am pretty happy about. So, the only thing that didn't feel good at the end of all that was my hand. I wrote like 5 short answer (1 paragraph), 4 medium length (2 -3 paragraph), and 4 long essays (4+ paragraphs) in two days. My hand started to cramp like crazy. Writing the last essay was actually painful.

But my last final doesn't have any essay questions. Just a few short answer and multiple choice. It is also not cumulative so it is only on 4 chapters and I have a lot of time to study. So, if I take a chapter a day I will still have time to have a few review days. 

We are still like 4 hours away as I write this, and we are going to stop for lunch at some point so this will probably be posted like 6 hours after I've finished writing it, because I don't have internet at the moment. 

Going to end it here, with a Happy Easter wishes! And good luck to anyone else in finals weeks.

Post 61: Be nice, it is the golden rule.

So, today I overheard a conversation on the bus and heard a great line from the person behind me, before I post it, I 'd like to point out that there are some curse words:

"If you think I am a B**ch, then I probably think you are an a**h**e."

Which, I feel is so true about me, at least in a sense. The only people who I am not polite to are people that have offended my friends or family. I mean, I am nice to pretty much everyone. There are, of course, exceptions when I am in an unpleasant mood and it effects my attitude, but for the most part I try to be nice or, at least, polite. My 'not nice', really just means I avoid the person and secretly wish they would get lice.  (For those who don't know me, lice is a fear of mine. I hate lice. I hate the idea of getting lice. I am paranoid about lice and dandruff.)

But, the only people who don't think I am nice are people who have hurt the people I care about.

The first person that comes to mind is the person one of my close friends is in a relationship with, she is emotionally abusive and manipulative. She doesn't really care about him and she is probably the only person I genuinely told to shut up.

If there was a zombie apocalypse, I would probably trip her first.

Anyway, it just sounded like such a good one-liner. And she said it in such a wonderfully sassy way.

But aside from applying it to myself, it made me think some about how people treat each other. There are so many one-liners about treating people nicely (treat others as you want to be treated) and yet there are still so many people who don't listen.

Bullying seems to be more common these days (at least, the media seems to portray it as such).

I have never really been bullied. All the moving around has taught me how to befriend anyone. So, I had friends in every group and never made enemies.

One person who was really nice to me was, apparently, really rude to others. I stopped talking to her after that, but I was really surprised to find that out.

I don't think it is really as dramatic as it is portrayed in shows (people being shoved into lockers, people having their clothes stolen after gym class, etc.). At least, I sincerely hope it isn't that bad.

But I think what seems most common is hasslers. You know, the people who just make snotty or rude comments as people walk by. It just amazes me that people can be so rude to each other.

I mean, what good comes from acting like a jerk to someone you don't even know?

It just seems pointless for the person doing it and so harmful to the people they are doing it to.

So, my advice "be nice to everyone". Even the jerks, because either they will eventually stop being mean or it will just confuse them. Kill them with kindness, as the saying goes.

If they really push you, well...then just make sure you have an alibi. (I am totally kidding. Seriously, don't do anything drastic.)

I think I want to talk more about the golden rule in a later post, after all do onto others what you would have them do onto you? What if you are like...a sadist? Or they are a masochist?

Also, I think I will talk more about bullying, but I think this is something I will have to do a little bit of research on first.

So, to conclude, kill them with kindness, but only metaphorically.

Have you ever been bullied?

What is the best, sassiest one-liner you've heard on a bus?

Or in general.

Post 60: D-D-D-Drama-Llama

So, check it out! Post 60! I've hit my first milestone. And I have to say, I am pretty dang proud of myself. Not because I thought I would give up, but because I thought I would run out of things to say. But, I haven't.

I don't think that 60 is traditionally the milestone that people celebrate, 50 or 100 seem more common. But, I think that it is about time I celebrate. I am coming up on 20 sonnets, I have posted a review a month for 7 months (going to be 8 once I post for this month), and I have managed to keep up with NaPoWriMo (just not on the blog, darn internet, always foiling my plans)!

For this post, I am hedging about what it is I want to talk about and whether I should talk about it. 

You see, what I want to talk about is some drama that the Babbler family has run into on all sides and in all directions. I've tried to keep this blog personal, but not that kind of person. 

Yet, it seems to be preoccupying my mind at the moment. Which is funny in some ways. 

One thing that is upsetting me is that I won't be able to visit my dad this month. Our schedules are clashing and packed full of stuff, so it will be awhile before I can visit. Which is sad. I mean, there are other ways we can keep in touch, but it isn't really the same. 

But the funny thing is, though not really "ha ha" funny, I am really worried about the Step-Babbler family. More so than I probably would have guessed I would be. 

Not that it is uncommon to bond with the your step-siblings or step-parent, but it is for me. I mean, I bonded with my first step-dad. But I was younger then, I actually lived there full-time. And he was home when I got home. We talked, he drove me to school, and took care of me when I got sick.

I can do most of that stuff for myself now. I mean, when I got bronchitis I found a way to the doctor. When I thought I might need medical care for a burn, I took a bus to the E.R. I am used to taking care of myself like that. My mom raised me to be independent and to take care of myself, which I do for the most part. I mean, now that I live at home again this semester I am doing it less, but I could do it all myself if I needed to.

Anyway, I lived on campus for like the first year after they got married. I rarely see my step-siblings and almost never really talk to them, besides the standard, casual small-talk and chit-chat. 

But, I find myself really worrying about them all. Their drama and successes actually have an affect on me and not in the way I would have imagined. It isn't like I am some bystander who just happens to notice or that I care how it effects my mom, I actually care about...them. 

I don't think I should post what is going on. There is so much that could be posted, but it wouldn't really benefit anyone to have it in writing. 

We don't really get along. I don't really talk to them. So, I really have no idea what I could say. But, I do worry. As weird is that seems to me, I do. 

Thinking about all this, I feel like I have started spiraling down into a dark place that is not where the celebratory milestone post should be. 

So, let me end on a happier note. Spring has finally reached us here in the far North, aka Southern B.C. The tulips are in bloom, the sun is shining, and the faint smell of lilacs floats in the breeze. 

It gives me such great hope that as the weather improves so will things in the personal lives of the Babbler family. My fingers are crossed, at least, that this will come to be. 

Any one out there have step-family they are close to?

Or not close to, but still care about?

Post 59: Which watch should I watch?

I don't know why, but I feel slightly uninspired at the moment. Yet, I feel a strong desire to write. So, this post will be shorter than the average and it will be about watches.

I own two standard watches and one of those necklace watches that has recently become popular. Yet, I don't know if they are really useful. If I want to know the time, I look at my phone or I look for a clock in the room before I look to my watch. I mean, I will go digging around in my bag for my phone for several minutes, rather than casually glance at the watch on my wrist.

It seems kind of ridiculous. But, I think in some ways it does make sense. You have to set a watch yourself, for instance. So, there is always room for human error. You might turn in it a minute or so early, which could cause inconveniences in your life.

Meanwhile, a phone always has the right time. It gets the time from satellites directly and it even corrects for daylight savings time.

But, I think that is only part of the reason. Mainly, I think it is because if my phone is out already, it is more acceptable to check for email or texts.

So, in the grand scheme of things, while watches might be practical, I still go with the less practical phone check.

And that is it. That is the end of my blog. Told you that it would be short today.

Do you where a watch? Do you use it?