Online Shopping Backlog

I knew it! There was a report on the news tonight that a surge in Canadians shopping online with US retailers (ever since the loonie approached, and then passed, par) has resulted in a big backlog of mail-order parcels at Canada Post, and major delays in delivery.

On September 29th, I placed an order with an American cosmetics company for some speciality skin-care products that I can't get here. I finally received the parcel yesterday, over a month later. At least the Customs charges were very modest - since you never know, when you do mail-order from the US, what kind of unpleasant surprise you might get from Customs, once your stuff finally arrives.

On "Sexy" Halloween Costumes

Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like total sluts, and no other girls can say anything about it.
"Mean Girls" (2004)

Forget ghosts and ghouls. Much has been written recently about the growing phenomenon of women using Halloween as an excuse to dress like strippers. Time was that most women reserved Playboy Bunny and Naughty Nurse costumes for the bedroom, but not any more. But while it may be fun, is it harmless?

I did a little surfing to check out the latest costumes, and it didn't take long before I found myself kinda shocked. For instance, this year, some f@#!wit thought it would be clever for women to dress up as "Anna Rexia" for Halloween:


That's a tape measure around her waist, in case you were wondering. This is wrong on so many levels, I don't even know where to start. What's next - dressing up as cancer, or heart disease, or AIDS? (I jest, of course - THAT would be deemed insensitive and wrong.)

My other big problem is that the trend is, unquestionably, trickling down to children. Don't believe me? Check out this "US Diva" costume for little girls, which you can apparently buy at Target and other American mega-stores:

That's right! Now you can dress your daughter as a War Whore for Halloween!

Can anyone tell me who in the hell buys this garbage?

To Moncton

Had a flying visit to Moncton, New Brunswick this weekend. Drove up late yesterday afternoon to our friend P.'s new home, just purchased this past summer when she moved to Moncton for work. Had a lovely dinner last night and really enjoyed the three-course repast P. laid on for us. It's not that often that we have dinner in other people's homes - so often, we end up just meeting at restaurants because it's easier. Later in the evening, P.'s old friend K. came over and joined us for dessert and a few drinks - hadn't seen him in 13 years, so that was a nice surprise.

P. went even further and whipped up scones for breakfast this morning, while the ever-handy A. got out his toolbox and did the Rent-A-Husband thing - putting up a curtain rod and re-doing some caulking around her sink upstairs. Then we had a little driving tour around town (I've only ever driven past Moncton, on the way to somewhere else) and had brunch at a local diner, before we hit the road back to Halifax. So a flying visit indeed, but one I'm very glad we made time for nonetheless - especially as P. travels all over hell and creation for her work and is hardly ever at home. Good fun.

Songs from Vagabondia

I have always loved this poem, and was thinking about it today while cycling to work through a residential neighbourhood full of beautiful old trees.

"A Vagabond Song"

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood--
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

-- Bliss Carman (1861-1929)

Mystery of the DPhil - Solved!

I have long wondered (and have had people ask me) why my university in England awarded me a DPhil instead of a PhD. I know that both abbreviations are short for the Latin for Doctor of Philosophy, but I never knew exactly why the difference exists.

While searching Wikipedia today for related information, I was delighted to stumble across the answer at last. It confirmed what I've long suspected - it's to do with the vagaries of Latin grammar:

Due to the flexibility of Latin word order, there are two schools in the abbreviation of doctor's degrees. At Cambridge, D follows the faculty (e.g. PhD, LittD), while at Oxford the abbreviation D precedes the faculty (e.g. DPhil, DLitt).

So PhD is short for Philosophiæ Doctor, while DPhil is short for Doctor Philosophiæ - and both translate as "teacher (doctor) of philosophy".

Most universities, in the UK and around the English-speaking world, follow the Cambridge model and use PhD. But the University of Sussex (where I went) and a handful of other institutions sprinkled across the Commonwealth follow the Oxford model, and use DPhil.

I love eccentric explanations like this. And I'm quite pleased to be a slightly weird, anachronistic DPhil, instead of one of those common-as-muck PhDs. ;-)

Shelby Steele

I hadn't been familiar with the work of the American race-relations scholar Shelby Steele before I read Margaret Wente's interview with him in yesterday's Globe and Mail. It's pretty compelling (and highly controversial) stuff - well worth a read (link fixed). I think I may check out his latest book, too.

Pink Robes for Albus

JK Rowling apparently let slip this weekend the news that one of the most important characters in her Harry Potter series, the headmaster Albus Dumbledore, is gay. I must confess I hadn't given the subject much thought, but apparently the HP fandom has been pondering the question for years now. Who knew?

I guess she figured she could put the word out, now that the series is finished and the news isn't likely to impact her book sales (and I wonder what other juicy character details may be forthcoming from her in future). But the Christian fundamentalists will surely dislike her even more now, seeing as how she's promoting witchcraft and homosexuality. *rolls eyes*

The Art of Maquillage

As we all know, the vast majority of stuff posted on YouTube is pointless crap. But occasionally, I find really useful and interesting things on it. Like today, I found a great little series of instructional makeup videos by askmemakeup. I'm always looking out for new makeup ideas and techniques, and these videos are a cut above the rest (being reasonably professional). It helps that the looks this person has illustrated are quite classic, and one of her models has very fair colouring like mine (so it's easy to imagine how similar makeup would look on me). I'm thinking of giving this look a go this weekend, in anticipation of a glam event I'll be attending next month.

Conferencing

There's a bit of an intellectual feast to be had in the city this weekend. Besides last night's lecture, I've also been attending a history conference yesterday and today - which is very nice as I hardly ever get to go to conferences anymore. This one is the annual meeting of the North East Conference on British Studies (NECBS), the regional affiliate of the main North American scholarly society for British studies. The theme of this year's meeting was designed to tie in with this being the 300th anniversary of the Act of Union between Scotland and England - but as is usual at these meetings, some of the papers had only the most tenuous of connections to this theme.

Not that it really mattered, of course. It was just a nice excuse to hear some interesting papers, and catch up with people. I saw a few former classmates I've not seen in years, as well as my old MA supervisor (who gave a very good paper on the wartime landscape photography of Bill Brandt). My favourite paper, however, was one on calypso music, of all things - specifically on the generation of calypso musicians who emigrated from the West Indies to England in the postwar period. One of them, a guy who called himself Lord Kitchener (ha!), wrote incredibly socially- and racially-aware lyrics - quite amazing to hear.

Ooh, Alberto

[Haw haw...geddit? :-D]

Tonight was the Massey Lecture here in Halifax. Alberto Manguel delivered the first in a series of five lectures on "The City of Words", speaking for about 50 minutes and followed by questions from the audience. The whole thing was taped by CBC Radio for broadcast (and podcast, yay!) on the Ideas programme in November.

It was a great talk, and very nicely delivered. Very deep, though - I don't think I quite got it all, and will probably need to listen again when it's broadcast. Manguel is staggeringly erudite - his source material ranged from Plato and the Greek mythological canon, to a postwar German author I hadn't heard of, and all kinds of things in between. I liked what he had to say about the power wielded by readers, however, and the ways in which many in our society fear that power - so much so that great readers have often been ostracized as a result. (And indeed, are there any bookworms out there who can claim never to have been sniffed at and told to "get real lives"?)

Before heading out this evening, I grabbed my copy of A History of Reading from my bedside table and stuffed into my bag. And I was glad I did, as Manguel did a book signing right after the lecture. He signed my book for me as I gushed a bit about how much I enjoyed his work. I felt like such a little fangirl...hahaha!

Rufus on Bravo

I don't normally watch the Bravo channel that often. But last week I recorded their Live at the Rehearsal Hall series, as it was featuring Rufus Wainwright. Watched the programme last night and really enjoyed listening to him perform material from his new album, Release the Stars. There's so much formulaic crap on the Top 40 nowadays that it's a real treat (and a breath of fresh air) to listen to someone as genuinely talented as Rufus. And his "Leaving for Paris No. 2" nearly stopped my heart.

Since he's Canadian, I'm also hopeful he might actually come and play Halifax one day.

Skinny Bitch

Have you heard about Skinny Bitch? It's the hot new diet book that's been flying off the shelves ever since Victoria Beckham (hello!) was photographed with it a few months ago.

Last time I was at the public library, I picked it up to see what all the fuss is about. All I can say is, I'm certainly glad I didn't pay money for it. Beyond the chick-lit cover (no doubt designed to rope in women who think Confessions of a Shopaholic is a serious novel), this book is basically just a pro-vegan diatribe from beginning to end. Not that this is offensive in and of itself, of course. But coupled with the hectoring tone of the nitwit Californian authors, I found the book pretty patronizing. Not sure why any writer would think it's a good idea to address readers as "assholes" and "shitheads" (seriously!) because they eat meat and dairy and/or can't fit into size 4 clothing.

Let me save you the trouble - unless you're considering becoming a vegan (and if you are, good luck to you), don't bother with Skinny Bitch. Actually, scratch that - I'm sure there are far better-researched and more authoritative books on veganism out there than this lame cash-grab.

The Miracle Worker

Went to the first Neptune show of the new season on Saturday night - William Gibson's classic The Miracle Worker. Great production, and really fine performances from the actresses portraying Annie Sullivan and Helen Keller. (Oh, and the woman who played Helen's mother is somebody I went to high school with!)

The scenes of those two women working together were utterly exhausting to watch, though - with Annie repeatedly having to restrain Helen's feral temper tantrums while also trying to instill understanding in her. And I left the theatre thinking that, ironically, if Annie Sullivan were trying to use those same methods on Helen Keller today, she'd doubtless be sacked and brought up on assault charges. Which is pretty crazy!

Vintage Shopping

Halifax has a number of nice vintage and second-hand clothing boutiques (along with Frenchy's, which is ubiquitous throughout Nova Scotia - but that's a different class of place altogether). I don't visit these shops nearly as often as I'd like to, but while downtown today I popped in for a browse at Elsie's and The Clothes Horse on Queen Street - neither of which I'd been in before.

Both were really nice, with a choice selection of quite attractive stuff on offer. Of course I didn't leave without buying something. I scored this great little bargain for myself:


And yes, it's real fur - mink, I believe. It looks brownish in the photo, but it's actually more of a silver-grey colour. And the label indicates that it was produced for the Fur Salon at Eaton's, so that will give you some idea of its age. It seems to be in great condition. The price? Only $60 (including tax). I couldn't let it get away!

I've got a (potential) red carpet event looming next month. I wonder if I dare trot it out...

Murakami

I'm currently in the midst of two novels by the Japanese author Haruki Murakami. I was introduced to them by JT, and also by a certain online book club I belong to. I'm kind of amazed that I'm enjoying them, since as I've mentioned before, I tend not to like contemporary fiction all that much.

I'm only about fifty pages from the end of the first novel, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. And the crazy thing is, I still have NO idea how it's going to end. Normally, this drives me nuts and leads me to abandon a book - but for some reason, in this case I've felt compelled to carry on reading nonetheless. There are all these different, parallel stories going on, which have only just begun to intersect. I suspect the book won't have a tidy ending though. Not sure how I'll feel about that - but the weekend will tell, I'm sure.

Then, just a couple of weeks ago, I began listening to the second novel, Kafka on the Shore, on CD audiobook (neatly transferred to the iPod, of course). I'm nearly halfway through that one now. It has a somewhat more straightforward, linear narrative, but so far it's not quite as intriguing and surreal as Wind-Up Bird. Still quite good, though.

It's always a good thing when you move outside your comfort zone to try something new - and are pleasantly surprised by it.