Why I Love The Library - Stories About My Familiar Strangers

This is me. Spying on you at the library,
Do you ever go to certain places so often that you begin to recognize the people who also regularly frequent that location? You don't know them. But you sort of do.

I have a name for these people. These are my Familiar Strangers at Queen's. Also, a disclaimer for this post: I'm really not creepy. I just, you know, observe people. A lot.

So, a couple of months ago, I decided I didn't like studying at Stauffer. Too noisy. Too many chances of running into my students. So I relocated to studying at another library on campus. And, I'm telling you, I fell in love.

So much love for this library that I'm there everyday. It's the perfect study spot. Not a day goes by that I don't spend at least 5 hours at my usual table, writing essays, reading. And so, when you're at the library everyday, you tend to familiarize yourself with the ~library regulars~. The people who spend just as much time there as you do (if not more). Enough that you can recognize each other on the street. Or at Starbucks. Or, you know, at the Grizzly Grill on Friday night.

So here, my friends, are just some stories about a couple of my Familiar Library Strangers. I don't know their names. I don't know where they're from. I don't know what year they're in. I just know that we see each other every single day, sitting at our usual tables at the library.

And after regularly spending hours at the library together, I'd like to think we're, you know, sort of friends (hehe).

STORY 1 - THE IVY LEAGUE POSER

The first time I discovered this library in December, I planted myself down at the nearest table, and looked around in satisfaction. I liked it. I loved the quiet. I loved the atmosphere. The study hall wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small that I felt pangs of claustrophobia.

Glancing over at another table, my eyebrows raised as I checked out a guy wearing a Harvard University sweater, decked out in crimson and gray. Janice and I watched him in fascination, wondering if he had gone to Harvard for his undergraduate degree.

The next day, I was back at the library. Planting myself down at the same table (it has, indeed, become my usual spot), I glanced over to see Harvard Guy heading to a nearby table. No big deal, right?

Harvard Guy placed his backpack on the table and started to unzip his jacket.

Except, as he took off his jacket, I noticed something weird. Harvard Guy was now wearing a Columbia University sweater.

What?

I watched him curiously, in fascination. What's this guy's deal?

A few hours later, the library was getting pretty hot. It was an uncharacteristically warm winter day in Kingston that afternoon. So, naturally, what do you do when its hot? You take your sweater off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I discreetly watched Harvard/Columbia Guy slowly take his sweater off. Except I noticed something weirder.

Harvard/Columbia Guy was wearing a Princeton University t-shirt underneath his sweater.

WHAT?

LOL. Oh, love. Love him so much for all the the Ivy League Trying. Since then, Janice, Josephine and I have labelled him the Ivy league Poser. We don't know his name, what year he is. All we know is that, in our heart of hearts, he is the fantastically hilarious and endearing Ivy League Poser.

Now you see why I think the library is so amusing? This particular library isn't the depressing, desolate place libraries usually are. You make your own fun, yea?

STORY 2 - THE LIBRARY ASIAN

There's more where Ivy League Poser came from.

Like, for example. I think I've found my favourite Asian drama actor's doppleganger.

No, no, really.

A couple of months ago, I noticed that another library regular was an Asian guy who looked oddly familiar. I couldn't put my finger on why I thought I knew him. And so, day after day, I kept staring. Thinking that, you know, I would eventually figure out why he looked so familiar.

That's when it hit me.

He looked like a popular Korean pop-star-turned-drama-actor who, I admit, I'm a ridiculously major fan of. And when I'm a fan, my friends, I'm a fan. A delusional, crazed fangirl at that. Ever heard of him? His name is Rain.

I'm so much of a fangirl that, initially, I thought the guy at the library really was Rain.

And so, one day, as I was leaving the library, Korean Drama Pop Star opened the door for me, nodding in acknowledgement. (Because really, at this point, after seeing each other at the library everyday, you're bound to recognize each other). I nodded back cheerfully, wondering how, pray tell, I could bring up the topic of his doppleganger when I had never spoken to him before. I needed to figure out if he really was Rain. Or, better yet, maybe even related to Rain? (The resemblance is uncanny, I tell you).

And so, I glanced over at Janice and strategically raised my voice a little loudly to enthuse, "We spent so much time at the library today, we should go home and watch Korean music videos of Rain!"

Because I thought, you know, bringing up the topic would make him pause and talk to us.

However, Korean Drama Pop Star just looked at me oddly as he walked by. He didn't stop. Didn't give any indication that he was even remotely related to Rain. Aw, darn.

And so, since then, he's looked at me a little oddly. Like, you know, I'm That Asian Girl who just fell off the boat and watches Asian pop music videos in her spare time.

But don't worry, I'll set him straight one day. I will speak to Korean Drama Pop Star before the year is over to let him know I'm not an obsessive, crazy fan of Korean pop culture, I promise!

STORY 3 - BRADLEY COOPER AND HIS WIFE

Yeah, I'm creepy. We're creepy. But this doesn't make it any less fun.

There's a guy at the library everyday who looks like Bradley Cooper. No. I'm serious.

The first time Janice and I saw him, we were floored. Like, he could pass for Bradley Cooper's twin brother. We also noticed that he always studies with his wife. I'm thinking they're in the same program, in the same year.

There's really nothing else I can say about these two. Other than the fact that they're insanely, ridiculously cute together. They study together, eat together, spend 10 hours at the library together.

I think they may be newlyweds. Coopers, I wish you both a happy life.

STORY 4 - MY ENCOUNTER WITH LAGUNA

Readers, I'm sure you've all seen Laguna. He doesn't frequent the library I go to now, but he's a regular at Stauffer. You guys, this guy is a Stauffer legend. Everyone knows who he is! He spends his life at the library. And people stare at him in fascination because, well... he's Laguna.

Ever seen him? Queen's students have dubbed him Laguna of Laguna Beach. Because, you know, he only ever dresses in beach wear. You've seen him. You know you have. The Hollister t-shirts, the spiky hair he often (in a model-esque fashion) runs his hands through, abnormally large arm muscles he proudly displays as he wears abnormally small tank tops in the dead of winter.

You've seen this guy at Stauffer, trust me. He's, like, famous.

So a couple of weeks ago, at Zappas Lounge downtown, Josephine and I were giggling mercilessly when we realized we spotted Laguna across the dance floor. Except, suddenly, something weird happened.

Laguna and his posse crossed the dance floor and walked over to us.

They stopped in front of us and Laguna looked directly at me and said, "Hey, do you want to dance?"

We were waiting for a few friends, so I quickly replied, "No, it's okay!"

Laguna frowned. "Are you sure? This is a one-time offer."

Surprised, my lips twitched in laughter. "Yeah, I think I'm good," I said.

Laguna and his posse walked away. Confused. HAHAHA. I swear, those guys are a walking MTV reality show. Josephine and I died laughing. We couldn't believe we actually had a face-to-face encounter with the legendary Laguna.

Good thing I don't frequent Stauffer as much anymore. I have joined the ranks of those Who Have Rejected Laguna. I just hope I didn't offend him too much. I can still be his friend, yea? Because, like I said, he's a Stauffer legend. A legend!

So next time you're at the library...

...be aware that someone could be watching you! Not in a creepy way, of course. More like in a I-see-you-around-all-the-time-because-Kingston-is-so-small way.

There are way more Familiar Library Strangers that I can talk about. But this post is getting long. And I'm procrastinating from doing actual work. So the next time you're at the library, look around, observe. Get to know your Familiar Strangers! And keep in mind, there may be someone watching you too!

Oh, Kingston. Oh, Queen's community. You never fail to amuse me.

"For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen while one stands."
- Christina Rossetti

"Thus, nature has no love for solitude, and always leans, as it were, on some support; and the sweetest support is found in the most intimate friendship."
- Cicero

The End of My Fall Semester At Queen's: A Sequence of Events

Queen's University, Kingston, ON

Folks, I've reached a milestone. I've officially completed one third of my Master's degree. Hurrah! Actually, let me re-phrase that. Today was the last day of my Fall semester classes, which means that once I hand in my last essay next Tuesday (which, really, is pretty much done. Who knew writing about neoliberalism could be so easy? Double hurrah!), I will be officially done one third (one semester out of three) of this graduate degree. Oh, how time flies.

As Janice just noted, "It was our first and last Fall semester of grad school. We'll never have a Fall semester at Queen's again!" Oh Janice, how wise of you.

So how was my first semester at Queen's as a graduate student? It seems just like yesterday that I was blogging about my first week of classes. And yet here we are, three months later. It's funny how life works out. I like to think about the sequence of events like this....

If my 13-year old self hadn't attended the Gordon Graydon Memorial Secondary School information session ten years ago, I wouldn't have known about the IBT program, applied for the IBT program, was interviewed for the IBT program, and ultimately accepted into the IBT program.

If I hadn't spent four years in the IBT program, I wouldn't have met the three most influential teachers I've ever had in my life. If I hadn't enrolled in the IBT program, I wouldn't have taken an Introduction to Law course with Mr. Mike Ford (RIP), which was one of the defining moments of my high school career.

If I hadn't taken Introduction to Law, I wouldn't have participated in Graydon's provincial mock trials and debates.

If I hadn't been encouraged to participate in mock trials, I wouldn't have realized (so soon) that I had an interest in (logically arguing?) attending law school.

If I didn't have (such an early interest) in attending law school, I wouldn't have started looking into Political Science programs at Ontario universities.

If I wasn't interested in studying Political Science in high school, I would have chosen a Journalism program and would have obtained a (professional) undergraduate degree elsewhere. I wouldn't have attended UofT.

If I hadn't attended UofT, I wouldn't have met the most incredible professors that fundamentally shaped my academic career and research interests. If I hadn't met these incredible professors (read about one here and the other here), I wouldn't have taken the fourth year Constitutional Law course that ended up being the highlight of my undergraduate experience.

If I hadn't studied with these particular professors (who were the most encouraging individuals I have ever met in an academic setting. Who says UofT sucks?), I wouldn't have considered obtaining a Masters degree before law school.

If I hadn't considered obtaining a Master's degree before law school, I wouldn't have taken a look at the program at Queen's University.

If I hadn't researched Masters programs at Queen's (the London School of Economics, Western, etc.), I wouldn't have applied and wouldn't have been eventually accepted at these schools.

If I hadn't accepted my offer from Queen's, I wouldn't have moved to Kingston this past September (and I wouldn't have started this blog! What!).

If I hadn't moved to Kingston, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of taking some awesome courses in the Fall semester of my Master's program. I wouldn't have taken a course that pretty much shifted my research interests away from Comparative Politics towards a more Canadian Politics focus (Oh, Canada). I wouldn't have realized how much I enjoyed reading about and researching the dynamics of political parties. I wouldn't have had the pleasure of realizing how much I enjoy research the politics of multi-level states and the implications of federalism in Canada.

In short? As this Fall semester comes to an end, I can honestly say that I have no regrets, my friends. My first semester here at Queen's was everything I imagined it would be. Actually, it was more. I've taken some wonderful classes, taught a great group of students as a TA, met some incredible friends, and had the pleasure of living in a city that I've grown to love.

One semester down, two to go! Here's hoping next semester is just as great!


“To be yourself, in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else, is the greatest accomplishment.”
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Intellectual growth should commence at birth and cease only at death.”
- Albert Einstein

Close Encounters of the TA Kind - The Kingston Bubble

Kingston. It's large enough that it still feels like a city, yet small enough so you feel that comfortable community environment Queen's is so proud of. We live in that Kingston Bubble. And so, logically, we run into each other frequently, correct?

Friends, this past weekend was the epitome of everything I've said above. My encounters were, obviously, coincidental. Yet it all happened in sequence, in same weekend. Collectively, these encounters are strangely amusing, yet so strangely seemingly contrived. Eerie, even. My collective sequence of encounters were so strange (yet entertaining) that I've decided to blog about it.

And here, my friends, is my narrative of this past weekend's amusingly strange encounters. More specifically, these close encounters of the TA kind. That's right. TA-ing and students have something to do with it.

ENCOUNTER 1:
I've spent the last two weeks agonizing over marking essays (and, as a side note, if I ever have to read about why torture isn't an appropriate state tool ever again, I will probably throw a tantrum). Yet I set marking aside on Friday morning to spend time with my dodgeball team. We held an end-of-semester sushi lunch, since we won't see each other until January. The reason? Because we didn't make play-offs. Sad. I know. But that's a story for another day.

During lunch, I told Josephine all about my love affair with coffee shops, mentioning that I would be marking essays in a coffee shop that afternoon. And here, Josephine uttered those fateful words: "What if one of your students walked into the coffee shop you were marking in?" And I naively replied with a laugh, "That would never happen!"

Naive, I tell you. Really, I should have known.

And so after sushi, I walked to my usual coffee shop to mark the remainder of my papers. I sat there for several hours, and I went through them pretty quickly. Awesome. Marking was going great. Until I heard someone clearing their throat behind me. Turning around, I gaped in surprise to see one of my students standing behind me to say hello. They had spotted me marking from across the coffee shop.

Josephine's prediction came true. Dun dun dun. Eerie.

ENCOUNTER 2:
After a brief hello, hurriedly, I packed up and decided to walk over to the coffee shop across the street for a slice of cake. I needed a change of scenery, right? And really, I needed to leave. I felt my student's curious gaze burning a hole in the back of my head.

And so I walked to another coffee shop, found a seat, ordered a slice of scrumptious carrot cake, placed the remaining stack of essays on the table, and continued marking. It was going great. And yet half an hour later, it happened again.

Flipping over the title page to begin marking the next essay, I looked up and saw the student of the paper I was marking walk into the coffee shop. Let me say that again. The student of the paper I was marking.

What are the chances of that happening? Seriously, what? Dun dun dun. Eerie.

Meekly, my student paused to wave at me and I waved back, discreetly slipping her paper underneath my pile in the event that she would walk over to say hello.

She didn't.

ENCOUNTER 3:
That evening, some friends and I sat at the Common Ground for another few hours of marking and studying. Because our lives are so exciting, right? After describing Encounter 1 and Encounter 2 to a fellow TA, she laughed. Because beyond the awkward nature of the situation, I suppose it was an entertaining story.

But it wasn't over.

We finished marking pretty late that night, and I decided to take the Walkhome service home (an awesome service where two students walk home with you). Because it's dark. And Vic Park scares me at midnight.

And so as I requested a walk home from the desk at the JDUC, two students emerged to announce that they would be walking me home for the night. Donning their Walkhome walkie-talkies, we set out towards my house. Chatting about our classes, I asked my Walkhome walker what program he was in. His answer? "I'm in first-year Politics."

Oh. Really? Would you, by any chance, be taking the first-year Politics course? Friends, you know the answer. Why, yes he was! Cautiously, I asked him who his TA was. His reply? His TA was the friend I was marking with that evening.

Seriously. Can this town get any smaller? Spoken like a true urbanite.

ENCOUNTER 4:
And so this afternoon, I finished the last paper I had to mark as I sat in Starbucks enjoying the Christmas music and drinking my usual London Fog. Hallelujah, marking was over! Over! And so as I sat, reading blissfully, I looked up. And. You guessed it.

Another one of my students walked in. With other students from our tutorial. (Insert face palm here). They waved uncertainly, and I waved back. Because really, what's the etiquette of approaching TAs or Professors in a non-academic setting? Awkward situations, these.

How much of this could realistically happen in one weekend? It boggles the mind.

ENCOUNTER 5:
Wary of running into any of my students, yet too busy to get up and switch coffee shops, I immersed myself in more work and began to email back and forth with one of my own professors. I had questions regarding the essay due for his class this week.

We emailed back and forth for ten minutes. I had all my questions answered.

Until, of course, I heard someone clear his throat beside me. I looked up. And, wouldn't you know it? My professor had been sitting right across from me at Starbucks the entire time we had been emailing each other. After sending my last email, we finally noticed each other.

I waved meekly and said a brief, yet awkward, hello. He, in turn, waved and stood up to leave.

Oh, Kingston Bubble. Your small-town environment never ceases to amaze me.

LESSONS LEARNED?

This all happened this past weekend, folks. All of it. Lessons learned?

1. Your students are everywhere.
2. Everywhere.
3. In Kingston, you run into at least three person you know, involuntarily, everyday.
4. The Kingston Bubble is small.
4 a). But we love it anyway.

“When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.”
- Peter Marshall (American Game Show Host)

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'"
- Erma Bombeck

For All Ages - Friendly Reminders For Alcohol Consumption

Please bear with me. I'm about to sound like your mother.

A few weeks ago, just days prior to Homecoming, I sat at the Common Ground with a friend, chatting over a cup of tea. At my mention of Homecoming, however, he paused and started to shake his head. He attended Queen's for his undergraduate degree, and he had more than a few stories to share.

He then told me this story. Two years ago, Homecoming festivities were in full swing here at Queen's. Prior to the obligatory Saturday night party on Aberdeen Street, however, he witnessed something he wished he hadn't. He (and his housemates) had stepped out of their house for a few minutes to grab some milk from the convenience store. When they arrived back to their house, they discovered a young girl passed out on their couch. Confused, they asked each other if any of them knew her. None of them did. They tried to wake her, but she didn't stir. Rummaging through her purse, my friend checked her ID and discovered that the girl was 16 years old, from Toronto, and definitely wasn't a Queen's student. Panicked, the boys called the police and an ambulance also arrived. Apparently, piecing the story together once the girl woke up, they concluded that this girl's friends had dumped her at my friend's house, a random house, before moving on the next party they were attending. She was completely drunk, to the point where she couldn't stand up. Shaking his head, my friend concluded his story by adding, "Her friends dumped her in a strange house where was a bunch of guys lived. It was a good thing they left her at my house, at a safe house with myself and my friends. Imagine what would have happened if it wasn't so safe? What would have happened to her?"

That story seriously disturbed me. Really, she was only 16 years old. I don't know what I'm most disturbed about: a young girl getting absolutely trashed by herself or that her friends dumped her at a random house. Some friends, right?

In addition to that story, I have one of my own: walking down Princess Street a few weeks ago, a friend and I watched in horrified fascination as a girl, most likely in her first or second year, walked alone down Princess Street in drunken stupor, asking us where the closest bus stop to downtown Vancouver was. Friend, you're nowhere near Vancouver. Just letting you know. She then attempted to cross the street at a red light and, thanks to the saving grace of slow elderly driving, was saved from getting hit by an oncoming vehicle.

When we choose to engage with alcohol, we should remember that a sense of responsibility has to be exercised. A sense of responsibility over our well-being, and our safety. Hitting the legal drinking age does not mean we leave our brains at the door. We need to act responsibly, exercising caution for our own benefit. And if we choose (which I hope we do), we should also look out for our friends who choose to drunkenly place themselves in undesirable situations.

Serious engagement with alcohol should not be taken lightly. Unfortunately, it often is. I'm not advocating complete abstinence away from alcoholic consumption. Rather, let this blog post serve as a friendly reminder about our own well-being when we choose to go out. Safety matters, friends. And unfortunately, we don't realize how much it does matter until the dangers of a situation actually present itself. Let's all look out for ourselves and for each other, yeah?

/End motherly blog post.

"Most of us can read the writing on the wall; we just assume it's addressed to someone else."
- Ivern Ball

Just A Phone Call Away - Appreciating & Updating Our Parents

So apparently, my parents found my blog. Wonderful. I discovered this gem a couple of weeks ago when, chatting with my parents on Skype, I eagerly began to tell them about the Asian grocery store I discovered at the corner of Princess and Barrie. Right in the middle of my story, my Dad waved his hand in dismissal and told me to tell him another story. Bored, he added that he already knew about the Asian Grocery Store. And that clearly, I wouldn't be suffering from a lack of the essentials. Shocked, I asked him how he knew. Apparently, my parents found my blog post on First Impressions of Kingston when Google searching certain spots in the city. I'm shocked. I didn't even know my parents knew what Google was.

And yet I'm actually quite glad my parents found my blog. I've been so incredibly busy lately that I have been guilty of missing parental Skype dates and phone call updates. Friends, I'm guilty. Ever so guilty.

There's a common conception that, once you hit your 20's, you don't "need" your parents anymore. You don't need their help, their advice. You don't need to tell them about your daily routines and activities. While I do realize that we're all grown-up, full-fledged adults with busy lives, I think it's important to remember that our parents may still want to play a role in our lives. We aren't kids anymore, so what role can they play?

While your friends want updates on your life, your parents do too. Often, we're guilty of taking days, even weeks before giving our parents a call to say hello. Friends, I'm guilty of being so wrapped up in my university bubble that I've often failed to update my parents on the goings-on of my life in Kingston. We're busy, we don't necessarily think about calling home. However, we may not think about it, but our parents do often wonder what we're doing, what we're eating, how we're doing, who we're meeting, whether we're thinking about them or not. We're busy with our own priorities, but our parents' will always have us as their priority - whether we live at home or miles away.

Friends, even in the midst of our busy lives, let's not forget our mothers and fathers who cannot wait to see us the next time we decide to come home. Let's update our parents more often, let's call just to say hello. Our parents think of us everyday and perhaps even worry about how we're doing. Appreciating our parents' concerns, knowing that they truly and dearly miss us should remind us to keep in touch with them, despite how busy we may be. Our parents won't be around forever. Let's keep them close to us while they are.

“A daughter is a little girl who grows up to be a friend.”

“The joys of parents are secret, and so are their griefs and fears: they cannot utter the one, nor will they utter the other”
- Francis Bacon, Sr.

The First Week Of Class At Queen's

Today officially marked my second week of classes as a Master's student. With my first full week of classes officially over as of this past weekend, I thought I'd physically document this past week's momentous occasion on my blog, since first days and first weeks for everything are certainly special and worth documenting to reminisce over at a later date (i.e. In a year, I could certainly look back on this post and think, "Wow, look at this blog post. I can't believe it's been a year since my first day of week at Queen's, I'm getting old. I'm getting so old. Etcetera. Etcetera"). I think my mother has a whole album filled with pictures from my first day of kindergarten. No joke.

How was my first week? Well, friends, I think I've fallen in love. Actually, let me re-phrase that. I think I've fallen deeper in love. With politics. I can't even describe in words how incredibly, hopelessly excited and even more devoted I am to the study of politics after this past week.

Yes, I did admit that. And in the corniest words possible.

I'm actually most excited about my course study on political parties, which focuses largely on Canadian parties (although there are a number of readings that briefly focus on other countries). I haven't been this excited since I found out that Top Shop was coming to Toronto. Or when I discovered my beloved limited edition (!!!) Longchamp tote bag on sale in Paris. In all seriousness, the course takes a look at what political parties are, their functions, roles, organization, internal structures, ideology. And while I certainly hold a special place in my heart for the study of constitutional politics, my political parties readings has led me to seriously consider studying an aspect of party politics for my Masters Research Paper in the Summer term instead. We'll see what happens!

While I initially had reservations about another course I had to take (the worst conundrum I've ever been in! too stressful for words), my worries over course selection were over as of this past Friday. Deciding which courses to take over others was an exhausting experience, but it's finally over. And if there's one lesson I can take from my struggles over course selection last week, I've discovered that enjoying what you study and do as a career is so incredibly important. Without passion and honest-to-goodness love for your work and material, the motivation to continue researching and investing hours of effort will eventually wane.

Beyond the academic setting, I think genuine dedication and fondness (versus having to do things because we should or we have to) for our careers, our hobbies, and volunteer activities is so important, and I hope we all find that subject, career, or activity we love. Because finding mine is turning out to be an incredible experience!

"The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts."
- Bertrand Russell

An Eventful Evening - Animal Help Hotlines & The City of Kingston

Earlier today, after my housemates and I realized that it was garbage day tomorrow, we promptly brought our garbage and recycling bins outside for the scheduled pickup. However, as we headed out the door, we knew it would be an eventful evening. As two of my housemates took the garbage bins out, they discovered a huge (read: MASSIVE) dog wandering around our porch. Running to the porch with the recycling bin, I stopped in my tracks when, at first glance, I thought there was a wolf standing on our porch (you can't imagine how much my heart pounded).

The dog looked like Lassie. Seriously, she was incredibly huge, as large as a wolf. Affectionately (and temporarily), we named her Wolfie.

Wolfie had no collar, no source of identification, and her knees were terribly scarred. Honestly, as we all stood on the porch, we had no idea what to do. Although I have a phobia of huge (read: MASSIVE) dogs due to a scarring experience when I was younger, Wolfie softened my ogre's heart, and I found her (we decided Wolfie was a girl) absolutely endearing (albeit at a distance).

As we watched Wolfie scavenge through our garbage, we quickly figured that out that she was extremely hungry. Quickly, Brittany and I ran to the fridge and found some milk, cheese, and chicken to provide the hungry Wolfie. Once she was fed, I then set out on a hunt for a 24-hour Animal Help Hotline, as leaving her on our porch to fend for herself probably wasn't the best idea.

Let this blog post serve to recognize the Kingston Human Society's wonderful, amazing work in the community. I want to note that I'm extremely, incredibly impressed by its efficiency and prompt response. Within 20 minutes of my call, an individual serving our area called me right away to discuss the issue. She promptly told me that she would be at our house in about 20-30 minutes, as she would be driving in from outside of Kingston.

And so as we waited patiently for the Humane Society to arrive, my housemate decided to read Wolfie a story: Emily's Eighteen Aunts. Wolfie enjoyed the story so much that she took a little nap! Forty-five minutes after our call, representatives from Animal Control arrived with a leash to take Wolfie away. As they left, they mentioned that Wolfie was the third Husky they picked up this week. Waving goodbye, we watched as they loaded Wolfie into the back of a truck specifically for the use of Kingston Human Society's Animal Control division.

Although I haven't been a pet owner since I was a very young girl, I'm not naive enough to believe that animal neglect is a rare phenomenon. As we saw tonight, there are a number of owners who neglect their pets, leaving the animal to fend for itself. I hope Wolfie finds a nice, warm place to sleep tonight. And, unlike Lassie, I sincerely hope and wish that Wolfie finds a happy ending.

I'll borrow the closing words of one of my housemates regarding our eventful evening. Friends, garbage day has never been so exciting.

“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.”
- Josh Billings

School Spirit - A Brand New Experience

I felt so American today. Seriously, it was a scene straight out of Remember The Titans. The screaming fans, the faces painted in red, yellow, and blue. The chants, the school song sung heartily with arms slung around one's neighbour when a touchdown was scored, the active school mascot, the Queen's student gear worn on every inch of people's bodies (Queen's scarves, Queen's toques, Queen's knee socks, Queen's hoodies, Queen's cardigans, the list goes on and on). The concept of school spirit was absolutely, completely foreign to me before I came to Kingston. It wasn't until today that I realized the extent of school spirit at Queen's, eerily parallel to the scenes of football glory and emotional pandemonium illustrated at a number of American universities (and movies!). A new experience that I would never have found as a student in Toronto.

As you can probably tell from the above description, I attended my first Queen's football game today. And as much as I loved (no, adored) attending the University of Toronto, its lack of school spirit was notorious. I attended a total of one football game in my four years at UofT, and student apathy towards team games, team losses, and even team successes was well-known. Team successes were often met with apathetic, dismissive smiles. While academic school spirit was certainly alive at UofT, mass gatherings to wholeheartedly cheer on your school was limited, particular in the area of football.

Queen's is a completely different story. I will forever love and remember my time at UofT as some of the best years of my life. However, the environment here at Queen's is just as memorable and endearing. Despite the frigid temperatures and heavy, pouring rain, a large number of alumni and students braved the terrible weather to attend the Queen's vs. Windsor football game this afternoon. And despite the the chilly weather, each chant and song was sung with large bursts of enthusiasm, bagpipes blaring, students cheering, flags and pom-poms waving, the mascot running. Seriously, it was a scene straight out of a Hollywood movie (American Dreams? Friday Night Lights? Johnny Be Good? You know what I'm talking about).

I've officially been in Kingston for one week, and I have to admit that I'm really starting to love this school and the overall environment. School spirit is a wonderful aspect of a more intimate university environment, and it's something I never encountered as an undergraduate student. In retrospect, I'm glad I chose to attend Queen's. It is incredibly worthwhile to experience various cities and environments that you've never encountered before, and I think my year here in Kingston will provide me with experiences I wouldn't have necessarily found elsewhere.

For more on the Queen's Golden Gaels, click here.

"It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world."
- John Steinbeck