And they don't even issue gloves.

I got a job this week--started yesterday. I still get scholarship payments over the summer, plus I have a small summer term TAship, but partly because I was bored at home and not doing the reading I should have been (I require structure to work effectively!) and partly because we could use the extra cash, I decided to get a part-time job. Because we could survive on my summer pay if we needed to, I only applied for jobs I thought I would enjoy. So I got called for an interview at Atlantic Gardens, the biggest gardening centre in Metro (i.e. the greater Halifax area--Atlantic gardens is actually in Bedford and Sackville. Think St. Albert or Sherwood Park.) and they said that they're looking for full-time (44 hours/week) at the Sackville greenhouse. I said no thanks, I really only want part-time (no more than 30 hours in any given week, but I'd prefer less) in Bedford. She said okay, she'll get back to me the following day. I didn't hear from her for a few days, so I figure that someone else got the job. Then she called on Friday to tell me she wants me in the following day (yesterday--Saturday) for full-time up in Sackville. What do you do? I said okay, but that after June, I really, really only want part-time. Just a couple of shifts a week. Seriously. She said maybe.

I am such a freakin marshmallow.

So I start yesterday and get this--not only do they have one of those old-fashioned punch-card systems, there is a recess bell that tells us when to start, when to go on break, when to get back to work, and when to go home! I swear to god, I feel like at 5 o'clock, I should be sliding down a dinosaur's tail to my car! And my hands are all cut up from the stupid plastic plant trays. This is awesome.

Home from P-Gizzle

Yeah, that's what the UNBC students told us to call Prince George. We thought it was pretty funny. Of course, it didn't take us much to laugh at that point.
Honestly, I did spend 3 lovely days in Langley with my Aunt Deb and 5 fabulous days relaxing in Sparwood with Mom, but those 3 days in PG really, really stand out in my mind. I think it will take a while to get over it.
So, rather than repeating once again what a dodgy town Prince George is, I'm going to post some more pictures of my house. Which is practically empty right now, since Trent is on a business trip to Fort MacMurray, AB. Wow. P-Gizzle and Fort Crack. Since our move to Halifax, we visit really beautiful places, Trent and I. Here are some pictures. When you're done looking at them, call me because I'm bored and lonely.

Becca in BC

I am posting today from beautiful, metropolitan Prince Goerge, British Columbia! I've been in BC for the past week. My GSAC AGM was this weekend, and last night, we tore it up in PG. Colourful place. Maybe the less said, the better...

On an unrelated note (mainly because I didn't get back to the hotel until 4 in the morning, and I'm unable to make any reasonable, logical connections), here are some pics of the little shindig Trent and I had at the house last week. Please notice the lovely and delicate expression on my face. Don't know what Kim said, but it must have been interesting...

This one is my friend Nikki--without a doubt one of the sweetest people I've ever met. We kept teasing her about her hot shirt!

And here is Trent, very focused on being cool.

At Long Last

We finally got around to taking pictures of our house! Please don't judge us by the ugly wallpaper, carpets (we call them the Redrum carpets) or the fact that, other than the bathroom, which Trent did a beautiful job on (don't you think?) the only paint colours are white, pale peach (blech!) or the bizarre, hot pink wall next to the stairs! This first picture of the exterior of the house was taken before we moved in--we don't really have a boat in the driveway or a covered swing on the deck!

Notice the new woodstove in our living room! Yay! Notice that we haven't put away the T-Shirts that Phidit sent us from Mount Rushmore! Boo!

Okay, Blogspot is starting to get wonky. I'd better publish this post. More photos soon, I promise!

Sweatercat

Since Ozzy sheds so much and has been having problems with hairballs, we decided to get him shaved a couple of months ago. He's happy like this, but I can't help laughing every time I look at him--it looks like he's wearing a tight, grey sweater over his puffy, black fur!

Redrum...redrum

This is a picture of out television room; please notice the ugly carpet. Trent and I call it the Redrum carpet. On the left side of the picture is a wall; on the other side of this wall is the Hallway to Nowhere. The entrance to Narnia may be at the end of it... Anyway, eventually, that wall and the Redrum carpet have got to go!

The Time Paul Came to Visit

Mom and Dad Soholt sent us a very nice present last month: Paulie! And we actually managed to pry him off the couch* for some touristing (despite the searing cold Nova Scotia winter weather).
Here are some pics of his visit.

*In Paul's defense, the Olympics were on...

Under Surveillance

Proverb for Paranoids:
#5. Paranoids are not paranoid because they're paranoid, but because they keep putting themselves, fucking idiots, deliberately into paranoid situations.
--Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow

Oh-kayyy... got a little tap on the shoulder from Big Brother yesterday. Two phone messages were waiting for me when I got home from campus. The first was a telephone message from Captain John Somethingorother from the Canadian Forces Recruiting Centre. He was looking for my elusive brother Phidit for... "a time-sensitive job offer." Second message was from Mary Beth, the lovely, wonderful English department grad secretary. Seems Captain John was calling there, looking for a graduate student: one Rebecca Babcock, sister of Philip Malanchuk, currently registered in the English department at Dalhousie University, to deliver a time-sensitive message to the aforementioned brother.

Folks, let's review the facts:

1. Phidit and I have different last names.
2. I have not yet notified any government agencies of my move to Nova Scotia, though I have submitted a funding application to the Social Science and Humanities Research Council.
3. I was not listed in the Edmonton telephone book, so even if Phil did use my old phone number to apply, that should have led them to Trent, and not to me.
4. Phil's recrtuitment application certainly did not ask him to list his sister's future place of employment.

It gets weirder. Captain John called the house today. Trent was home. The Captain wanted us to give him Phidit's phone number. He knew Phil is in Wyoming, but didn't know how to reach him there. At last, Bear jumps on the paranoia wagon with me and evades Cap Jo's questions. Cap Jo, however, asks if Phil's mother is still living in BC...

So. I'm heading to a cabin in the mountains with a sockful of money in lieu of credit cards, a pocketful of vegetable seeds and a half-dozen fertilized chicken eggs. Anyone want to come with?

(Do not post your reply to this message... we are being watched.)

I am so cool.

Know what I did last weekend? I went curling. Yup. Played skip on the English department curling team in the History department's annual bonspiel. God. I'm like a whirlwind of awesome.

The Funny Thing About Snow Days

Last Tuesday night, we had a big(ish) winter storm, and on Wednesday, all Halifax (and area) was shut down on account of the blizzard and impassable streets, so on Wednesday, Trent and I had a Snow Day--basically a free day off, which was awesome, except when we had to try to shovel the vehicles out of the garage (we eventually had to leave up on Grillface and just leave him in the garage until enough snow melted to get him out). Today, it's warm, sunny, and there's hardly any snow left on the ground. So when people warn you that Halifax doesn't have a spring, what they really mean is that we get spring 11 or 12 times a winter--basically, every time it snows. It's not like Edmonton where you don't see the ground for months on end.

I think I like this better. Snow Days are fun.

I Wanna Be a Minority

I briefly considered being too depressed about the election results to get out of bed this morning. Problem was, I was already out of bed and honestly, politically-motivated depression just doesn't seem like a good enough reason to get undressed and crawl back into bed in the middle of the day. Also, it occurs to me that a minority Conservative government isn't going to get anything passed--assuming, of course, we don't have another vote of non-confidence, say, next week and jump into another election cycle. So I'll have to content myself with wearing drab colours and moping. Of course, I was feeling a little out of sorts yesterday, so I did my fair share of moping then, too. Michelle, a History MA student who also has an office in Bleak House, told me that statistically-speaking, January 23rd is the most depressing day of the year. Then Rob, an Eglish MA student said that he's had way more depressing days. Then it snowed yesterday and I felt better. Turns out, snow doesn't stay on the ground for months and months in Nova Scotia. It's only snowy for a few days--a week or two at the most--then it rains, and everything's all green again. Like winter in intervals. I can handle that, even with Stephen Harper in power.
Does it seem off to anyone else that Canada has 3 centre-left parties--one of which is corrupt, the other, hopelessly idealistic, and the third only represents one province--and only one right-wing party?
Oh, and by the way, it felt really, really weird, not being one of only 7 people in my riding voting NDP. I live in Alexa-land now.

I Like the Fog.

I thought it would make me feel claustrophobic. But it actually seems very soft, almost gentle. The streetlights make pretty haloes in the fog.

Her Name is Hana

because I had just finished reading In the Skin of a Lion for my TA class, and Morag's name was Morag because I'd just read The Diviners. And I'm not an environmental nightmare. Hana's engine isn't much bigger than Morag's was, and I just drive into the Mumford bus terminal in Halifax's West end, then I take the bus to school from there. And I have a cell phone, but it's a safety cell phone in case something happens when Hana and I are driving home alone on the highway, and my palm pilot is socond-hand--no, third-hand, actually, because Trent bought it from my friend Neil last year, then Trent gave it to me when his work got him a new one, and I never whip 'er out in public and start pretentiously nerding around on it, I just use it to record when my assignments and stuff are due. And I will start volunteering again and maybe even doing some acting when my course work is over, because I just don't have time right now.

I'm still me.

You Drive a WHAT?!

This is going to be a long post. If you don't have time to read it, you might want to come back later. Or scroll down and check out my Dragonerriers post--it's much funnier, anyway.
Our new house is out in the country. In Edmonton, suburbs are either a part of the city (as in Mill Woods or Callingwood) or else they're their own community, with stores and schools and malls (as in St Albert or Spruce Grove). In Nova Scotia, you leave Halifax, drive through the forest for a while, the suddenly, you're in a residential neighbourhood (as in Williamswood). The really cool thing about that is that you get to live in this beautiful, quiet area, surrounded by forest and lakes, but you still have neighbours. The unfortunate bit is you have to drive in to Hali to go grocery shopping or to rent a movie or to sit in a coffee shop and work. Which is not bad if you have a car, since Spryfield is only a few minutes away (and despite Jody's dire warnings, I haven't been mugged or shot there yet). However, if you don't have a car, you're a little hooped, since the buses don't run to the outlying communities, despite the fact that they're a part of the HRM (Halifax Regional Municipality). Needless to say, this makes Morag-less me feel a little claustrophobic. I COULD ride into Bedford every morning with Trent, take a bus into Halifax, then ride back with him in the evening, but I don't like being that dependent. Besides, if I decide to stay home one day, then discover that we need milk or lightbulbs or something, I'm stuck waiting until 6p.m., when he gets home. So we talk about it and decide that I really do need a car.
Gas prices are ridiculously expensive out here. In fact, the only thing more expensive than gas in Halifax is milk. (Ponder it.) So we decide that I need a nice, fuel-efficient small car. Except that one day it snowed, and all down the Old Sambro Road (the road that leads us to Williamswood) small cars are sliding into the ditch. Also, virtually the whole way into Hali is via highway, and though Grillface (i.e Trent's Toyota RAV4) is great on gas in the city, the engine is too small to be efficient on the highway. Okay. So we decide we need something heavier with a slightly bigger engine--maybe another Taurus or a small SUV. And we decide, yeah, a small SUV is a good idea. That way, when we start to do house repairs, we can fill up the back with lumber and drywall, and we can use it to haul wood for our 2 fireplaces. So Trent gets quiet for a minute, and he says, "I know you aren't going to like this, but a small truck might actually be more practical for that kind of thing. And if we get a 4x4, you'll be safer driving in the winter."
Truck? No way. I don't want someone yelling "Sorry about your penis!" at me. Forget it. I did NOT escape redneck, duelly-driving Alberta to drive a truck.
Except that it starts to make sense. And then on Christmas day, we go to visit Trent's aunt, uncle and cousins in Moncton. They own a Ford dealership there. Next thing I know, I'm signing lease papers on a Ford Ranger XLT extended cab. Sorry about MY penis, indeed.
This is not the end of it though. I am buying a gun rack for that baby, and I'm going to mount the giant Super-Soaker watergun that Trent's dad bought be on the back of it. Sorry about YOUR penis, you soggy jerk.

My Present to You...

Okay, I'll admit it. I thought my Dragonerriers post was pretty clever. Yes, I made myself laugh. But I have to concede the title of Funniest Blog to these guys:
http://www.overheardatwestern.blogspot.com/
Consider it my gift to you, and Merry Christmas!

Dragonerriers

So when you buy a new house, you all of a sudden have to go out and get a bunch of weird stuff that you normally don't think about, like fire extinguishers. Our new house has a main floor, a basement, and a half-upper floor, plus the garage, so we needed 4 fire extinguishers. We go through the checkout at Canadian Tire, and the cashier is giving us a bit of a look. You know--why do you guys need this many fire extinguishers. You pyros or something? And because I'm a smartass weirdo, I shrug and say, "My husband is a fire-blower in the circus." And the girl looks at Trent and says, "Wow, really? That's so cool!" Honestly. And at that point, I can't tell her I was kidding, because then we both look like knobs. Trent and I manage not to start laughing until we get out into the parking lot, and he says we should have told her we're dragon breeders. I say no, we should have told her we're trying to breed our dragon with our terrier.
I told a friend at school this story, and he pointed out that a Dragonerrier would be able to light its own farts on fire.

New Digs

Hey Everyone! (Okay, I'll be honest. Hey Toni and Mom.)
We're in our new house, and our address is:
90 Acres Road
Williamswood NS B3V 1E3
I've kept my Pink Dungeon phone number:
(902) 405-6439
Trent's email address is tasolo@hotmail.com and mine is Rebecca.Babcock@dal.ca -- but please don't sign me up for any lists or contests. I'm trying to keep it spam-free.
I know I keep saying this, but I'll post some pics of our house soon. We just have to make some of these boxes disappear first. We asked about the elves that were supposed to do it, but apparently December is a really bad time for magic elves.

So Much to Say...

Okay, it's been a while. You probably already know that Trent and Marlowe are in Hali now (yay!) and that we are on our last few days in the Pink Dungeon. Yup--take possession of the new house tomorrow, but we probably won't be 100% moved in until the middle or the end of the week. Already planning a party for January. You can still make it... buy your plane tickets now!
The MA students' program doesn't end until September 7th or something, but of course all their leases are up on August 31st so Trent and I offered up 8 days worth of carpet space. Maybe don't plan on visiting the first week or so of September.
Trent got to meet most of my school friends on Friday. The English department had its potluck Christmas dinner, which was fun. Ran around running errands all day Saturday, because Nova Scotia doesn't allow shopping on Sundays. Malls, supermarkets, furniture shops, clothing stores... all closed on Sunday. Talk about a pain. So basically, whatever errands you don't get done on Saturday, forget about it until next weekend. Not enjoying that so much.
Have been enjoying weird Halifax weather, though. When Trent first got here just over a week ago, it was +17C. Friday night, it started snowing, and yesterday, it was gorgeous--everything covered in mounds of fresh white snow. Finally, I believe it's December. Then today, it got really warm and rained. All day. Of course, the power was out basically all weekend. Out Friday night, back on Saturday morning, out just after midnight Saturday night, and not back on again until 7:30 this evening. Thank god, drug stores are allowed to stay open on Sundays, so we went and got some candles.
Funny thing: Marlowe is afraid of the dark!

Halifax... Fun for Old People, Too!

So there's a guy in my program, Mark, who obviously thinks that I'm a grandmother or something, because any time he says something even vaguely related to age, he blushes and apologizes to me. Who the hell lets 23-year-olds into a graduate program anyway?! In fact, there are quite a few (read: almost all of them) under-25s in my circle of colleagues-who-are-becoming-friends. (Fortunately for me, Mark is the only one who seems to think that I'm over the hill.) This means that I am now hanging around with people younger than my little brother on a regular basis. And yes folks, I am keeping up with them. Danced until 4 a.m. last night. Drank beer like a true Haligonian. It's actually kind of a surreal, regressive experience, considering the rate at which you Edmontonians are "settling down," having babies, getting married, living in houses with billiards rooms.

Man, you guys are old!

About "Haligonian..."

It's been a really busy last few weeks. Had a really great visit with Heidi--she and I conquered the cell phone salesman conference at the Lower Deck. Then, after she left, I went to Toronto for the GSAC meeting. Did a little bit of toristy stuff up and down Yonge street, at the harbour, and bought Trent a souvenir at the hockey hall of fame. Then, when I got back, I got to spend a week with Trent. It was great--we went out for dinner, he met the other Englishes, we bought a house. The realtor explained that residents of Halifax, NS are the only ones that call themselves "Haligonians." Apparently, residents of every other Halifax call themselves "Halifaxians." So, although he couldn't tell me why they went with "Haligonian" as opposed to "Halifaxian" or "Halifaxite," I do now know that we are alone in using the term...
Yup, that's right. We bought a house! YAY!!! It's really cool. It's really really cool. And we take possession on Decmeber 11th.