Moi moi!

Hei!

Well, my trip in Finland is now coming to a close. What a week it's been! When I first got here, I wasn't really sure what to expect, but I definitely wasn't expecting everything to look like Canada! Yet, it does. So I feel oddly at home here, which as a plus. E. and L. have been great hosts, as were E.'s parents and siblings.

Our visit was split into three: a couple of days in Oulu where I did homework during the morning while E. worked, and then four days in Kemijärvi, followed by another two in Oulu. Oulu has been fun with a lot of bike riding and live-music listening. Kemijärvi was beautiful and warm, minus all the mosquitos -- I'm covered in bites. My foot has not only bites all along it (on the bones, too), but on the sole as well. How that happened, I'm not sure.

I'll be honest though. I'm pooped. There's something about twenty-four-hour sunlight that really impairs the sleep cycle. Although I'll be sad to leave, I'm definitely looking forward to my bed with the fan on, and rollies pulled down tight so I can sleep in the dark.

Also, I thought about giving a play-by-play of my trip. Maybe I still will. Maybe I'll do it in pieces, posting about one day at a time. But as I sit here, tired both mentally and physically, I really don't think I can manage. When I think about the enormity of such a task, I just want to roll over and sleep. Then again, I suppose it would be a fun thing to do when I'm homework-procrastinating. Hmm... seems like a good idea!

Wow... I've really got to get to bed, even if it is only 10:00! I've got a big day of travelling tomorrow (yuck).

Bis später...

Leaving on a Lentokone

Toyvottavasti!! (Hello... I think)

Well, I am one point five hours away from leaving Deutschland, and going to Finland! Juhu! I am sure that I will be bombarding you with pictures... maybe even later today! Who knows! I'm just hoping FinnAir has better luck than most of these planes lately that are either crashing, having cockpit fires, or having the pilot die of "natural causes" in the middle of the flight. I don't mean to make light of it, but I seriously hope none of that (or worse) happens on my flight, or any more flights for that matter.

Oh, I'm all a flutter. I'll have to post back when I've calmed down (in Finland!!!)

Hope your day is treating you well!

Hyvästi!

Way Number Six to FAIL as a Professor

Yes, you heard right. I'm going on a complaining binge again today!

So, the winner for World's Favourite Professor just upped the ante yesterday when he finally returned my term paper. I got 87%. If you know me, you will know this is cause for a full-blown panic attack. Yeh, you heard right. I'm the girl that almost cried because I got 102% on a Chemistry exam out of a possible 104%. Yes, I know.

Anyhoo, you know why I only received that grade? Because a bunch of my information was false. Where did I get this information, you ask? From a web-page perhaps? Au contraire, my friends. I found this wonderful information in my textbook. Yes, my professor not only told me that the information in the assigned text was COMPLETELY false, but that I should've known better. My heart rate is rising again just thinking about it.

And so here it is: Way #6 to FAIL as a Professor:

6. Sometimes textbooks print inaccurate information. Cool. Nothing new there. But if you're asking us to write a paper on a specific topic, it may help to mention that the text is inaccurate. Especially when it's inaccurate in such a way that it somehow still corresponded to the information I found in scholarly journals. I'm not a mind reader. I'm also not a PhD student that "should've known better." If you think a text is full of baloney, don't assign it. Seriously.

It's my sincere hope that my "Ways to FAIL as a Professor" end with this douche. For some reason, though, I have a feeling I may end up adding to it in the future. I also have a sneaking suspicion I may add to the list once I get my final exam and final grade back. Who knows? Maybe I'll make it into a series, or something. It's a good thing this was only a 100-level requirement and not some 400-level history class to take right before graduation, though. Because then this would REALLY suck.

Back to the Grind

Well, finals are over, term papers have been handed in, the new semester has started, and I'm already knee-deep in Plato's "Symposium" and questions about marginal analysis. Fun, eh?

Last weekend was the Army Ball. I've got to say, it totally wasn't worth it! H. came home late every night for two months for what? So we could sit there for three hours, eat a mediocre meal, and

so I could laugh at the Americans' view of US history? Seriously? We're lucky someone else bought our tickets, or else there's no way I would have paid 70 euro for that!

In other news, I fly to Finland next week. I'm quite excited! And then finally I'll have good pictures to put up! I'm a little sad about leaving Maxie, but it'll be a nice break; he's been on such a power trip lately, and he's getting on my nerves. Luckily, E. works during the morning, so I'll be able to catch up on schoolwork while she's at work, and then we have the afternoons to hang out! I really hope her BF speaks English, though. Because of the five languages I could get by in, Finnish is definitely not one of them. It just looks like äääöölllliiihhä to me...

I guess it's back to reading for me... African American history and Plato, here I come! *insert rolling eyes here*

Five Ways to FAIL as a Professor

I know you get it at every university: retarded professors. But some really just take the cake, like one of my professors from this past semester. Here goes:

1. Identifications are an important part of the class. Cool. But please don't give us an identification that has different meanings depending on the time period. And if you do, please hint at which time period you're thinking of. When your class covers the events spanning a couple of millennia, don't give me a zero, saying I "picked the wrong date." You didn't give me anything to work off of.

2. I appreciate you giving us hints as to what's on the final. I really do. But please don't say to study a certain group of things and then say we don't need the other stuff. Then, you go and put that 'other stuff' on the exam. Lying isn't funny. Maybe it was an amateur mistake on my part, trusting the professor. Lesson learned. But in all honesty, I'd much rather you say "learn it all." Because then I WILL learn it all.

3. I get that you fall ill and have computer troubles. So do I. So does everyone else. But you, the professor, are weeks behind on everything. If you want us to keep up with the class, you should keep up, too.

4. If our reading is from pages 400-450 and you say the questions are from pages 400-450, please don't have the questions coming from pages 280 and 630. Yes, I can go to those pages to find what I need to answer your questions. But it goes back to that lying thing. I don't like it.

5. Please do not drag our semester into the next semester. My next classes start on Monday. I do not need to be catching up on work that can be done before this date. Participation isn't just me speaking my piece, but responding to others. If they don't do their part by Monday, I can't finish mine. And I'd much rather be moving on with my life.

The Relationship Between Finals and Drinking

I'm not quite sure why such a relationship exists between the finishing of a final exam and drinking. I know I didn't come upon the idea by myself though. I remember my first year of college, just five measly years ago (gosh, it's been a long time) when after finals, some classmates suggested drinks at the Nest. I don't know what is so attractive about getting plastered after you've done some serious finals writing. But it sure is attractive. It must have something to do with that brain-drain I had after writing a 2000-word essay in just under two hours. It's a good thing I'm not still at NAIT, though. Because then it'd be two o'clock and I'd be hammered and unable to drive home. Not cool.

Speaking of it being five years since I started college the first time, this is getting ridiculous. You know what my reasoning for not going into psychology after high school was? You need to dedicate at least seven to ten years to make something of yourself with a degree like that. So what do I go and do? Choose history. As it stands, it'll take me six years to a bachelor's and eight to a master's. Yikes. All things considered, though, assuming I don't want to hang myself four years from now, the tally after eight years will stand: one 2-year degree, two bachelor's degrees, and one master's. I guess that's not bad for eight years, especially considering I move halfway across the planet during that time, too. Okay, I'm done justifying. I feel better now.

One Week Left!

If there's one thing I'm grateful for, it's that I'm taking accelerated classes in uni. Ten weeks is a quick wham-bam sort of deal, but it works for me. Sixteen-week classes? Half-way through, you're ready to give up. Thirteen-week classes like my sister has? Not as bad, but still cringe-worthy. The nice thing about having things over in ten weeks is that as soon as you start hating life, you've got a week or two left, tops. 

I mean, just think. All I have left for next week is to finish a term paper (which is crushing my soul), and write my four final exams. All in all, that doesn't seem too bad for a finals week. And then? It's back to the grind, beginning another semester of classes without a break. Lucky for me, this semester, I'll be doing a lot of travelling. Hopefully that will ease the soul-crushing experience that is the uni experience. 

Munich, Finland, England, and maybe a trip to my favourite spa-stop Baden-Baden for good measure? It looks like summer semester will shape-up to be pretty decent (minus the whole studying part).

And, just as a little extra annoyance, I hate random callers. Someone called today and H. picked up the phone, but nobody was on the other end. We traced the call back to Göppingen, but the number is otherwise unlisted. We don't know anyone in Göppingen. The whole 07161 Vorwahl is unknown to us. Weirdos...

Be Careful What You Post on the Internet

Internet safety. Blah, blah. Don't share any personal information, don't do this, don't do that. It's been drilled into our heads forever. And yet, people still slip up. Sometimes it's serious, and people get hurt. I'd prefer not to focus on that, though. I'd prefer to focus on the funny. And when I say funny, I mean funny for everyone except the person involved.

Confused? Allow me to explain.

I'm a member of a web-site called Toytown Germany. Basically, a site for expatriates in Germany. *ahem* ENGLISH-speaking expatriates. Despite all the good information that comes across the site, however, there is a lot of baloney. Sometimes the baloney is of a serious nature, such as discussions about the Air France airbus that recently went down in the ocean. Other times, we get caught up in hot topics such as gay marriage and US immigration. (In case you didn't know, gays aren't allowed to immigrate into the US to be with their partner.) Anyway, what started out as a good discussion has turned into a load of baloney. And by a load of baloney, I mean gays arguing with closed-minded heterosexuals about sodomy and being homosexual in general. 

But I'm not here to discuss gay rights. I'm here to highlight the complete idiocy of one of the members. This member was bright enough to use his last name as his user-name. Incidentally, I didn't know it was actually his last name until today, when another member googled the dummy. (Did I mention this last-name-using idiot member was basically referring to gays as sodomites, as if heterosexuals don't do it, and involving himself in general gay-bashing.) So, another member googled his last name, which just so happens to show up on the first page of hits. Some quick research and comparing of his profile information on Toytown and the information on Google shows that he is an associate professor at a university in the States. 

You can see his CV, picture, and publications online. Everything. Now, this is useful for students at the university to find out more about their professors. But it's also available to everyone. So is the idiocy he posted on Toytown. 

A lot of people generate random pseudonyms on the internet to stir things up. It's called trolling. It's nothing new, really. And usually, it doesn't matter; the worst that happens is you get kicked off the web-site for being a general pain in the butt. For this noob, though? Posting such information could be potentially harmful for his career, seeing as his university claims their professors to not engage in bigotry (which was happening on Toytown). 

I'm not going to say who this dummy was, because it's not my place. I'm not really revealing anything secret, either, as all the information is on the internet for everyone to see. Besides, if you're really curious, I've given you enough information to connect the dots on who this guy is. 

But, even though my post is about this dumb-head (that would be a rough translation from Dummkopf), it's not really about him. It's not even about internet safety as much as internet awareness. We share more on the internet than everyone said to. And for the most part, our lives stay the same; perhaps, after a bad run-in, you may be internet-stalked like I was for awhile, or some other little annoyance may happen. But be careful of what CONTENT you post online. The internet isn't always anonymous, and things you say in cyberspace could come back to haunt you. 

Moral of the story? If you want to troll around the internet and be a general idiot, go to an internet café, sign up with a ridiculous pseudonym that could in no way be traced back to you, and go nuts. But if you have a PhD, please be smart and not post bigoted things that can be traced back to you. Internet awareness one-oh-one.

The Life of an Expatriate

Living abroad is a funny thing. Most things they tell you are true: you'll be homesick, you'll learn about a new culture, and depending on where you go, you might even learn a new language. The excitement about those things fades. After awhile, you know that it would be nice to go "home," but home is actually abroad. And you get used to just doing everything differently. And you get used to talking differently (perhaps in that foreign language). 

So when you run across a meet-up for English-speaking expatriates, it's a good thing to go. I've met a ton of people through such a group. Last night, about twelve us of had dinner. Twelve of us from all over. The only rule: English, only. 

I've been going to meet-ups like this for a couple of years now. It's funny -- even though I've never been to Australia, Ireland, some of the US, when you meet a fellow English speaker, it's like you've just met your neighbour from back home, or your best childhood friend. I don't mind living in Germany; I like it, even. But that feeling you get when you meet someone, and you don't have to speak slowly or in another language for them to understand you? It's golden.

So you can imagine my surprise when some new people show up, and we go through the typical "Who are you/Where are you from?" stuff; someone says "Canada." I admit it. I perked up. I've met more Aussies, Kiwis, Brits, and Americans than anything else. I DON'T meet Canadians here. It's like they don't exist. And if they do, they're from Toronto. So, they might as well be Americans, anyway.

Back to the story. "You're from Canada, eh? Where about?" I ask. "Edmonton." was my reply. You've got to be freaking kidding me! Even around the same area as me. I'm telling you, I was beyond excited. 

You probably think this isn't a big deal. Sure, you're from around the same place, but you're still strangers, and you were never neighbours. Ha! That's what you think! When you live abroad and (therefore) a Kiwi is like your next door neighbour, someone not only from the same country, but city is, well.... We might as well have been brother and sister who shared a bathroom growing up. Or something. Even if there was a good probability we could run into each other in a bar in Edmonton, with it being no big deal, it's exciting when you're in another country. It's hard to explain if you haven't lived it.

Anyhoo, we all got to talking about idioms and phrases particular to each English-speaking region. I offered that when a Brit had first told me he was feeling knackered, I had absolutely no idea what was happening. The word even comes up with little red squiggles under it to tell me it is spelled wrong! Then the Aussies got to talking about the phrase "being pissed," as in being drunk. This isn't new to me. I've used it on more than one occasion. Some Americans, however, were confused. They thought it meant to be angry. 

Now, the question is -- where did I pick up the phrase from? I'll admit that Canada and the US are quite different culturally (whether you believe it or not; I'm married to an American. I know.) But I'm pretty sure that we wouldn't have just understood the phrase "getting pissed" without some sort of Brit/Aussie/Kiwi intervention. So where did I get it from? Maybe when I lived in Calgary from a friend that had lived in both Britain and Australia before? Someone else with British roots? Or did I pick it up in the last few years since I've already been here? When meeting someone from Michigan was just as good as meeting someone from Toronto?

I'm confused, because I can't trace things like that. And the longer I live abroad -- which is forever -- the more confusing things will probably be. But in a way, I like it. It makes me feel cosmopolitan and worldly. Or something.

Travel, Travel

My, I've got a busy next couple of months!

One would think that living in Europe would mean constant vacations and sightseeing. I mean, people travel halfway across the globe to come see the environment I spend my daily, boring life! To be honest, though, life just gets in the way sometimes. There were landmarks in the places I grew up in Canada, too. Places that Germans would travel halfway across the world to see. But in your day-to-day life, things like that just get forgotten. The same goes for living in Europe. Now, I'm not saying it's not feasible. Friends A. and B. are gone pretty much every other day to see something new. Me, I can only handle so many castles and churches. Sure, they're exciting when you're visiting Europe for three weeks. But I'm seriously sick of them (call me spoiled, I know). 

But, it looks like in the next little while I'll be taking a leaf out of A. and B.'s book. First up, either Kassel or Munich to visit a friend of mine from Calgary. Kassel would be something new and exciting. Munich, on the other hand, not. But I like Munich. And I like their beer gardens.

Next, Finland!! I'm very excited to see E. Very. Her mom said that she would cook for us on the weekend. I'm just mostly excited to see her. And not understand her crazy native language. Yikes. What excites me about Finland is that it's not a place I would ever purposefully go. So, I'm completely taken aback by the unknown, and to be honest, that excites me almost as much as seeing her.

Image of Oulu from: http://www.ouka.fi/city/albumi/kesakuvat/keskustaa.jpg

And next up on the docket is England. Hubbs has some work to do there, and I'm going to play tag-a-long to see the rain and greenery. I haven't been to England yet, and I feel like I'm missing out (especially since I'm planning on applying to East Anglia for grad school).  It'll only be a couple days' trip, but I'm excited nonetheless.

Image of Huntingdon from: http://lh6.ggpht.com/_an9GlTOsHy4/R7YZpMzDZGI/AAAAAAAACOo/uON9P90VeCU/IMG_6713.JPG

If you thought I was done, you're wrong. Well... right. That's all that's planned for now. Hubbs and my first anniversary is in August, and he still has about two weeks' worth of vacation. Maybe we'll go somewhere nice (warm) for that!!

And, I promise I'll actually have real pictures that I took when I come home!

New Moon

Okay, so maybe it's a bit much to be blogging twice in one day, but I had to separate the good from the bad, right? 

So in much happier news, the New Moon trailer debuted yesterday evening. And since it debuted yesterday evening in North America, that means I woke up to a link from M. this morning on Facebook. 

Let's be straight here. I have no idea why I'm in love with the Twilight Series, and Edward in particular. Let's face it. He's controlling, moody, and a stalker. Those are the sorts of things normal girls want to stay away from. But for some reason, Stephenie Meyer makes this sort of behaviour charming. Maybe it's just because she's so in love with Edward herself that she can't stop describing "the perfect planes of his chest," and Bella's "favourite crooked smile." For some reason, Meyer makes the stalking seem endearing. And what's with all the reviews that diss her writing skills? If she can make a cold-blooded psycho cuddly and charming, she must have some sort of talent.

So, anyway. I've been sucked in, too. (I'm telling you, that Meyer woman is a magic-worker.) I read all the books after M. practically forced me to. (aka She used guilt tactics by buying them for me.) And, despite the ridiculously terrible acting, I got all giddy like a pre-pubescent girl when the Twilight movie came out. 

Have you seen the New Moon trailer? Have you? Because Edward/Robert Pattinson, I'm telling you, is a thing of the past. Not only does Taylor Lautner as Jacob stick around to pick up the pieces after Bella gets ditched, he is FRICKING HOT doing it. Yes, I know he's seventeen. And I don't care. I'll take those abs over R.P.'s skinny butt any day. 

Image from: http://teenidolnews.com/tag/taylor-lautner-muscles/

And did you see Laurent's creepy red eyes? How, exactly, did they not do that for the first movie? 

Okay, slow down, slow down. Deep breaths.. I'm okay now. 

Rain, Rain, Go Away

So, if anyone is having a particularly happy day that would be spoiled by a whole lot of complaining, maybe reading today's post isn't the brightest idea..

That being said, what gives?!

Where should I even start? How about with the weather? The weather is one of those stupid small-talk topics that people always complain about, right? Now, don't get me wrong -- I'm happy there's no such thing as a proper winter in Germany. Should I have to endure another Canadian winter ever again, know that I probably won't make it. You'll probably find me frozen onto the side of some tree muttering in German like a crazy person. Or something. So, as happy as I am that the winters here at their worst hit about -15c, I could do without the constant cloud cover and threat of rain. And I thought the migraines I got in Calgary because of the Chinooks were bad! Ha! It's a good day in Germany when I'm not in bed, clutching at my skull and begging for death. Besides, Maxie hates the rain. He won't go for walks in it. And when he's not going for walks, he's hyperactive. And THAT is annoying. Migraines + Bouncing Maxie = Anger. And who said I wasn't any good at math?

And in other news, I hate online classes. Okay, I'm lying a little. They're awesome because you can show up in pyjamas and fluffy socks to do your schoolwork. Oh, wait. I did that when I went to face-to-face classes, too. Never mind about the pyjamas then. Because not only do group projects in a real university suck; they suck online, too. They're even worse. Just imagine trying to co-ordinate slackers that are stationed across the globe who could care less about some history requirement. And then, there's me. History major, trying NOT to fail a stupid group project because some people have no respect for deadlines or capitalizing letters. There have been so many days this past week where I've wanted to throw my computer at the wall. And to be fair, my computer didn't do anything. If anything, my MacBook rules (chipping unibody aside). 

And then there's Maxie. As if he's not hyper enough, he had to lick up a bunch of coffee grinds that I'd spilled on the floor. I was just grabbing a broom and dustpan to clean up when, BAM!, my mess had disappeared. I probably wouldn't be too worried if it weren't for the fact my dog is hyperactive on his laziest of days. Shoot.

Did you honestly think I was done complaining? Ha. No, I'm not finished yet. I still have a paper I have to write on Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises," which I had decided was the worst book in history before it was even assigned for my Literary Criticism class. But I'm writing on it instead of my other options because I was too lazy (errr.. I mean busy) to read a new 600-page novel and write a stupid paper on it. And, finals next week, too. If only that meant a break for me. Unfortunately, it only means that in two weeks, my next semester starts...

One year.. just one more year. 

Oh, who am I kidding? In just one more year I'll find something new to complain about!

Bah. 

I apologize if you actually read through that, by the way. That must've been painful...