Nanny.

I've been contemplating for a few days now on whether or not to blog about this. For starters, it's hugely personal and it's still raw. Very raw.

In life, the only guarantee we have when we are born is that at some point, we will die. Yet, despite this, 'we', as a collective species, are all pretty bad at confronting our own mortality... until it slaps you square in the face that is. I've experienced loss before and I'm as bad as my fellow man at dealing with it. However, no amount of loss can prepare you for when you lose someone as close as your grandmother. I'm literally on an emotional rollercoaster ride at the moment but I thought writing down my feelings would act as some sort of therapy, even if the effect is only temporary.

Now, I feel I need to recognise the fact that 'Nanny' isn't the most common title for a grandmother to have. By all accounts, my grandmother actually didn't like being called 'Nanny'. However, as I was the eldest grandchild and someone who couldn't actually say 'Granny' at the time, the name stuck. Looking back now, she never looked like a 'Gran' or a 'Granny' or a 'Nan' anyway... She looked like a 'Nanny' and she was perfect. Thankfully, she accepted her title with the type of grace only a grandmother could have and she made sure to sign all of her cards with 'Nanny'.

I have always thought that if you closed your eyes really tight and imagined the archetype-grandmother, you would open your eyes to find my 'Nanny' standing and smiling in front of you. She had grey, permed hair like the Queen, something that never changed for as long as I knew her. She wore glasses and had false teeth. Her personal style was the height of 'Granny-Couture' - she was never without tartan trousers, a wooly jumper or cardigan and loafers. Chic indeed.

She had the perfect voice for a Grandmother as well. Soft and soothing, accompanied with typical Grandmother sayings such as 'Cor'; 'Blimey'; 'Crikey'; 'Wotcha' (I'm making her sound like an Australian Cockney... she wasn't). Every single birthday, the highlight of the day would be when she would ring and give a rousing rendition of 'Happy Birthday'. It was always sort of a jazzy arrangement, her own unique style. Not something that would win 'The X Factor' certainly but perfect all the same. She also had the most wonderful laugh, a sort of a giggle that came from the heart, sometimes a little shrill at the end but always full of glee.

When it came to 'Grandmother Skills', my 'Nanny' was definitely top notch. She was fantastic at sewing, even going so far as to make me a dress for my starring debut as Dorothy in my Primary School's production of 'The Wizard of Oz'. She made the best flapjack. No contest. And her hugs? Well, they were the best. Even after I grew to nearly double the height of her, she could still give you the biggest, back-breaking hugs that would literally squeeze the breath out of you. That's how much love she had to give and it was endless.

When I was a child, Katie and I would spend every summer with both my 'Nanny' and my Grandad. I wish I could remember all the amazing times we spent together at their caravan but there are far too many. Whether it was cycling up and down the road, sitting in the paddling pool, participating in dance competitions or karaoke at the clubhouse, watching 'Annie' and 'The Jungle Book' one after the other repeatedly or simply running out of bed in the morning to climb in beside them whilst they had their morning tea, they are all precious childhood memories. Ones that I will never forget to treasure.

However, as you get older, things begin to change. You begin to get a little too big to share the bed, you begin to outgrow the child movies, school starts to become a more prominent priority in your life, the distance between England and Scotland seems to grow larger, time seems to go faster and then 'BAM', you're suddenly eighteen years old and off to university, ready to begin a new chapter in your life. And yet, despite the distance, the love never dwindles or diminishes. Even though I didn't get to see my grandparents as much as I would have liked over the last few years, we certainly didn't love each other any less. And the few times we did share together in the last few years were fantastic.

Last year, when it was Katie's eighteenth, I could not have imagined at that time that that would be the last time I would ever see my 'Nanny'. It was a normal weekend and when we said 'Goodbye', I never even considered the possibility that that would be the last time I would ever see her. A little foolish in hindsight, considering that both of my grandparents were in their eighties at this point. I still never even considered it when she was admitted to hospital last month for the first time. 'Nanny' was old, yes but she was still fairly active and had plenty more years in her. I did start to worry when she was admitted a second time but having survived four heart attacks in three weeks, she seemed almost indestructible for the time being. When she was discharged, we all breathed a sigh of relief. We became complacent. Stupid really.

I spoke to her on the phone for the very last time a week ago when she was discharged. It was quite brief considering how exhausted she was but she did sound happy and that is a great comfort to me. I told her how good it was to hear her voice and how glad I was that she had got out of hospital before New Year. She told me how happy she was because she was sitting in her armchair, at home, surrounded by her family. I told her to take care of herself, that I loved her and that I would see her very soon. If there is any comfort in all of this, it's that I'm glad I told her that I loved her one last time. Because I truly did.

The last few days have been a bit of a blur. From the moment I was told she had passed away to now, it's been quick. The thought of going back to some sort of normalcy is a difficult prospect at the moment because I cannot see how things can ever be normal again. I have lost such huge part of my life and I'm unsure how to come to terms with that. I'm comforted by the fact that in the end, she was very happy and that she did not suffer. A small consolation in the midst of so much grief.

It's only now that the gravity of the situation has begun to hit me. I'm slowly realising that I will never see her again. I will never see my 'Nanny' and Grandad together again. I will never hug her again. I will never see her writing on birthday or Christmas cards ever again. I will never hear her sing 'Happy Birthday' to me ever again. I'm actually frightened that I will eventually forget what her voice sounded like.

However, as the special person she was, she lives through the ones she left behind. She lives through my Grandfather, the man she chose to spend sixty years of her life and have four children with and who I hope, will find that life is still worth living to the full, even without her. She lives through my mum and my aunts and uncles and finally, through us, her grandchildren. The last photograph she saw of me was my graduation photo whilst she was still in hospital. I hoped she realised when she looked at that photograph that she had had a huge influence on the sort of person I have become and that she was proud of me.

I hope that wherever she is now, she is at peace and although it's painful right now, I will find the strength to continue my life without her, for her. She was an incredibly special lady, a truly kind and caring person and a wonderful grandmother. And I will never forget her as long as I live.

I love you, 'Nanny', Forever and Always.

Let Me Occupy Your Mind... Again.

I've been sitting here for the past five minutes, looking at this blank, virtual canvas and deliberating with myself. 'Should I start my blog again?'; 'Do I have anything interesting to say anymore?'; 'Will I even manage to successfully keep it going for longer than four days?'. The answer to all these questions and many others in my life at the moment is that I simply do not know.

 My life has become unnervingly boring and predictable. I haven't been out of the country in almost two years. I can't procrastinate anymore because I have absolutely nothing to do anyway. I actually miss university because at least I was on some sort of road to somewhere (although the 'somewhere' I had in mind seems light years away). I'm nearly twenty-three and I still share a room with my sister. I could go on and on but the list is endless. All I'm saying, is that when I was leaving school, thinking where will I be, five years from now, this wasn't what I had in mind. I seem to be in a perpetual state of limbo, not yet a fully-grown adult yet no longer a child either. Unfortunately, when it comes down to it, the only person that can get me out of this rut is the lazy, tired and unmotivated bear that is myself.

Now, I'm not going to start this 'New Year, New Me' codswallop (even though the only people I see saying 'New Year, New Me' are the people moaning about people saying 'New Year, New Me) because let's face it, it never works. However, I do need to make my life more fulfilling so in honour of this month of 'change', I have a list of things that I want to achieve this year

1. Read at least four books per month: I used to be a big reader - why did this change?! So many books to read, so little years left on this planet to read them all.

2. See Mark at least once a month: Yes, we have discussed the fact that we don't feel the need to see each other all of the time. However, once every four months is a tad unacceptable.

3. Do something 'Cultural' once a month: Whether it's an orchestra or the theatre, I don't care. I am lucky enough to live on the doorstep of one of the most cultural cities in the world and I do not take full advantage of this. Luckily, Katie has already made sure I meet January's target by purchasing me tickets to go and see 'Wicked' in Edinburgh for Christmas (I cried and I am not ashamed to admit that). I have never seen a ballet or an opera either so they're definitely the top of my list.

4. Reconnect with some old friends: On the whole, I don't think I'm too bad at this but there are some people I have literally had no communication with over the past year. I would really like to see some of these people again.. Life is funny sometimes but I'm a firm believer in 'It's never too late'.

5. Start a Diary: This is a risky one. I highly doubt I will have enough patience to continue a diary. However, I would like one which I could carry everywhere and record things such as ideas, funny moments, my wacky dreams or pieces of writing. Which brings me to my next point...

6. Write More: I have recently come to the realisation that I'm pretty mediocre at Business. Therefore, the only way I'm going to make my millions is by writing a bestseller. I do have it in myself to do it. However, at the moment, all of my ideas are swimming around in the soup I call a brain.

7. Get into the Christmas Spirit: I don't mean right this minute but 'holy moly', I could have made Scrooge look like one of Santa's elves last year. Sainsbury's crushed my Christmas spirit last year, I admit it. I was defeated. However, I vow that it won't this time. Pantos, mince pies, Christmas movie marathons - I don't care what it takes but I will become so 'Christmassy', I will literally become an all-singing and dancing Christmas pudding (I actually hope not seeing as Christmas Pudding is the worst foodstuff in the history of cuisine).

8. Leave the Country: If it involves getting a fake passport, changing my name to Miguel and sitting in the back of a Tesco's lorry on the way to Calais then so be it. I will go abroad this year. The dream would be Interrailling. We'll see what my bank balance says on that one (probably 'Computer says No').

I think that to an average person, these things are pretty easy to achieve. Then again, I'm not your average Joe (or Jane). If the start to this year has taught me anything, life is too short to sit on your arse and wish for things to happen. I think I will need to start to follow some sort of Motivation Quotations blog on Tumblr to make this happen but if that's what it takes, then so be it!

This year is for you, Nanny.

The Journey to Asianhood

It's 2.48am in the morning and I've been lying in my bed for the past hour doing nothing but watch K-Pop videos. Then, I was hit with a realisation not too dissimilar from getting figuratively slapped in the face with a wet fish. Not only has it been about an age since I last wrote a blog but also, a huge change in my life has occurred that should be given the chance to take centre stage and bow with pride. Therefore, I want my readers to be happy that I am dedicated enough to blog when I could be getting precious sleep (the real reason is that I will forget in the morning so don't feel guilty).

I'll try not beat around the bush (although from the title, I'm sure you can guess where I'm heading with this).When I came on exchange, I was expecting to embrace the Quebecoise culture (not the Canadian culture sadly, Quebec is virtually its own country). However, instead of eating snails or actively pursuing a career of permanently wearing berets, I have seized the opportunity to reject my Scottish roots and become something completely different.

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's time I came out from behind the Oriental screen (I tried googling Japanese closet and it never really worked, my analogies are getting worse).

I am Asian.

Okay, I'm not Asian but I want to be and since I have had the pleasure of making very good friends with people from Japan, South Korea, Thailand, Taiwan and China (I'm so multi-cultural now), I have taken the best parts of each culture and melded them together to become a 'Super-Mega Happy Asian'. I admit, it sounds bizarre but bare with me (and since when have I ever been normal).

Here below I will list the various areas of 'Asianhood' that I have adopted.

Photos

It seems I've been Asian for quite sometime because I am infamous for taking photos. I am the bane of my friend's lives because no matter where we go, my trusty camera is always ready, whether it is to catch a questionable facial expression or taking tourist photos in Bangor (It was my first time in Wales, give me a break).

Chopsticks

When I first sat around the table with my Asian friends for dinner and picked up my chopsticks and used them with the grace of a geisha (albeit a clumsy geisha), there were some gasps of surprise, shock that I could even hold them properly, let alone use them. Not one to shy away from basking in glory, I felt a sense of pride but ashamedly, I didn't tell them that not only can most people use them but my own sister has been using them since she was like nine. However, whilst my skills in 'chopstickery' are not particularly noteworthy, what is noteworthy is that I am now the proud owner of my own pair of bright pink chopsticks which I received for my 21st birthday. It was probably one of the best presents I've ever received. Ah, the simple things in life, who'd have known one could get so excited by eating utensils?

My very own pair of Chopsticks, I will be whipping these out at Yo Sushi!

Food

Obviously, a natural deviation from chopsticks would be the food you eat with them. I have always said this and I'll say it again. I could happily live on Asian food for the rest of my life. I can assure you that I all eat here is Teriyaki Chicken. It's 'phuking' awesome. Additionally, I've had Taiwanese cuisine, copious amounts of sushi made by my wonderful Japanese flatmate Nana, Thai noodles and Chinese dumplings. I swear, I will be the size of a sumo wrestler but I will be full of happiness. God, it's so good.

Samples from the Tai-Thai dinner

'So Sad'

The origins of 'So Sad' are blurry. I believe Nana said it first and it's something that has caught like WILDFIRE. It's hard to explain but I think that describing a situation as 'so sad' is a very Asian thing to say (I don't know how to describe it, I'm just natural Asian now). I say 'So sad' all the time. ALL THE TIME. Now, I even say it to people back home. And if the situation is not sad, it's 'so cute'. Even my language is changing.

Film and Television

Okay, I was already in the foray of Japanese films with my fandom concerning Deathnote and Battle Royale. However, after watching Deathnote with Nana, I found it a better experience. And, I watched a South Korean programme called 'Running Man' with Ka Ki which seemed to be like a gameshow. I had no idea what was going on if I'm honest but it was funny.

Karaoke

I consider doing Karaoke with Asians a rite of passage towards Asianhood. I mean, how many people can say they've done karaoke with Taiwanese, South Korean, Chinese and Japanese people? Additionally, karaoke is completely different experience with Asians (and sober). For one, they're actually all pretty good at it but they also take it serious, pouring raw emotion into their singing. There's no laughing either, it's a nice environment. I have to admit that I was surprised by the quality of songs that were sang. Even Keane's 'Somewhere Only We Know' was chosen. Unfortunately, however, I have a complete inability to choose a song that is not cheesy in some way. I chose 'Mamma Mia' and sang a duet with Rocio of 'Summer Nights'... Yeah.

KARAOKE.

Music

I've left the best till last. I have always had an ecletic music taste, it's true and with my love of Eurovision being proof that music does not need to be in my own language to enjoy it, it was only natural that I would develop a love for K-Pop. However, there is one band that I nigh-obsessed with and that band is called 'Super Junior'. It's a pop group made up of about 13 boys and their songs are so good.

Not only have I spent the last few evenings attempting to learn all of their names but I have also identified my favourites, Siwon and Khuhyun. Nom is all that is left to be said.

My love began during the aforementioned karaoke session when some bright and wonderful spark chose a song called 'Sorry Sorry'. I got home and googled it and immediately fell in love. I downloaded it off iTunes and repeated it on my iPod ever since. Then, last week, I discovered another song called 'Mr Simple' which has reached number 21 on my Top 25 Most Played list already. I'm not sure whether I am to feel ashamed or proud. And tonight, I have found another song that beats all of them, A-Cha. Already downloaded. The thing about Super Junior is that the majority of them are hot, they are insanely good at dancing and the songs are completely catchy. They could be about the taste of miso soup for all I know but they're still epic songs. Another honourable K-Pop mention would be Girl Generation.

YES.

'Sorry Sorry' Dance

This obsession with K-Pop has culminated in a phenomenon known as the 'Sorry Sorry' dance. Due to prolonged exposure of the 'Sorry Sorry' video, I became automatically synchronised with the dance at the chorus. It came to a head during the gala where we performed the dance to any song that matched the beat. Good times.

So yeah, I think I have put forward a compelling (and long) argument towards becoming an accepted denizen of 'Asianhood'. Having been told by many of my friends that I am more Asian than them, I am extremely confident that my application will be accepted.

Long live Asia (and Super Junior).

I will leave with one of their videos so you can all fall in love with them, just like I have. Additionally, please be sure to look up 'Sorry Sorry' and 'Mr Simple'. And if you want more, check out 'Gee' by Girls Generation. I feel like a K-Pop master.

What has happened to me?

OhmyGodSuperExplosionsandUnicornsandRainbowswithPies.

What I am about to account has never happened to me before but it is kind of awesome. And I felt the need to tell someone (or people).

Currently, in addition to the mountain of group work and assignments I have to write for HEC, Strathclyde decided to be a nice guy and give me a literature review to complete for tomorrow as well (Such a shite guy). The lowest point was opening an example of a good review and discovering it was over 2,500 words (it may be a paltry word count to you but to me, it still induces winces and tears). So this is not going to be just a simple all-night effort then? Well, I was wrong, in more ways than one.

Firstly, we got to choose the subject we did the literature review about. I cannot emphasise enough how much better it is to be able to write about something you actually have a degree of interest in rather than writing about some bullshit theory that I don't really understand anyway. Additionally, whilst we had to get the subject of our review evaluated, the lecturer who evaluated mine not only consented but said it was an 'interesting subject'. Woohoo, nothing like some faith from the lecturer to spur you on!

So, my subject? I don't want to go into too much detail but basically it's about the impact of violent video games on violent behaviour in children and young adults and how to market video games in this type of fear-mongering environment. And I've discovered it's a hugely interesting subject. So interesting in fact that I have been reading articles for the past five hours and yet, put no words on a page. This never happens to me, ever. I never feel the need to really get into the grit of a subject. I prefer to skim on the surface (usually taking quotations from the abstract. Don't tut at me, we've all done it).

For example, the last three hours have been spent reading about the tragic Columbine School Shootings, which despite being horrific and appalling in equal measure, is also a great source of interest, not only because one of the root causes is believed to be the influence of violent video games in the perpetrators lives but also, just because in general, it is interesting. Specifically, I've been reading the reddit posts from a survivor of Columbine and whilst it has little mention of video games (ironically enough, he now works in the video games industry) it has just been too damn interesting reading his posts and viewpoints. So much so that it is now 8pm and I was supposed to be finished by now. I'm barely halfway.

Therefore, when I saw a post from my lecturer that we could ask for extensions, I have rushed an email away. Not because I have been a lazy bastard and have only started it the night before (I started a few days ago actually) but because I actually want to my literature review justice. Not only because it could prove pretty darn useful for my dissertation next year (if I'm allowed to do one for marketing, developing story, may talk about it later) but because I'm having fun.

Having fun whilst writing an assignment? What even am I?

Sugar Shack: Another Québécoise Experience...

On Friday night, Nana, Aziza, Jungyoon (who convieniently lives next door) and I went to a 'Cabane á Sucre' or a 'Sugar Shack', about an hour outside of Montréal. Believe me, calling it a sugar shack is an understatement but more of that later.

In simple terms, a sugar shack is a front for producers of maple syrup. The 'harvesting' time for maple syrup, typically tends to be between March and April and so, whilst there is still plenty of maple syrup to go around, these producers tend to open sugar shacks during this period so both Montréalers and foreign visitors such as yours truly can sample the delectable delights of a traditional and sweet Quebec meal.

We all got into the coach and made our way there. You have no idea how cool it is to be going places on a coach again. It's like I've been transported back in time to school, where school trips used to induce excitement and happiness. I love having that feeling again. Anyway, we arrived at the sugar shack just as the sun was setting and it was pretty much exactly as I had imagined it. A shack. There was nothing particularly special about it and inside was pretty much your standard log cabin decor (or what I imagine to be a pretty standard log cabin, not that I am an expert in the interior design of log cabins, that might be Lawrence Llewellyn Bowen's field of expertise more than mine).

Yes, the icicles are real!

We were shown into a room where there were large tables set out and we all settled down to enjoy this meal. The process is simply sit down and a waitress will bring you your food (and you can ask for as many helpings as you want). As we had all starved ourselves for this promised meal of majestic quality (and quantity), the bread sitting on the table looked too inviting and we all practically wolfed it down in mere seconds. Alexandre, one of the organisers, told us not to eat too much bread because we would need room for later. Obviously, Alexandre had underestimated the power of my stomach because I can not describe the level of hunger I was feeling.

The first course came out, which was a nice and gentle Pea soup to get the ball rolling. However, after one sip, something was not quite right about it. I couldn't really put my finger on it but continued to eat it anyway (refer back to previous paragraph about starvation for more clarification). It was only when I hit the bottom of the bowl that I realised that maple syrup had been added to the recipe. Now, I have a sweet tooth (obviously) but c'mon, really? After the soup was finished (and I did finish it, I am not quitter), there was a small amount of time between the soup being cleared away and the main course, we decided to have a peek at some of the condiments on offer. Now, usually, I'm not a huge fan of pickles but as the ravenous part of my personality came out to play, I decided to try one. I am not even lying when I say that the pickles were pickled in maple syrup. However, there was a lovely chutney that deserves a mention because even though that had maple syrup in it, it was good. Pickles in maple syrup however, are not acceptable.

Finally, after what had seemed like an age, the main meal came out. It was almost like an English breakfast with scrambled eggs, smoked sausage, ham, baked beans and potatoes. Except, of course, everything has maple syrup in it. I'm not even lying, if you were unaware of the fact you were diabetic, you would have definitely known after this meal. It was crazy. Even the baked beans were in maple syrup... And then pudding. Need I talk about pudding? Cake with maple syrup or Maple syrup tart? My heart was racing faster than a fat man in a cake shop (ironic really). Probably the craziest part of the meal though was when Nana discovered the odd but rather tasty combination of Pork scratchings drizzled with maple syrup (yeah, we were pretty much all having heart attacks at this point).

English breakfast or Quebec Tradition? Only one way to find out...

Once the plates were all cleared away, the table was strewn like a battlefield. Everywhere I turned, I could see defeat in all of my friend's eyes. Food had beaten us all once again. And then, some soul announced that they were serving maple syrup taffy outside on ice. Well, didn't we all just stand up and make our way outside? Yes, yes we did and I don't regret a thing.

We made our way around to the back of the cabin where there were troughs filled with snow. Then this guy poured boiled maple syrup over the snow where it cooled just enough so that it became a sort of sticky, pliable consistency, which when rolled with a lolly pop stick, could be consumed easily. Long story short, it tasted awesome. And the guy kept coming round with this jug whilst we were being educated on how maple syrup was made (I can't lie, I wasn't really concentrating). I think the worst part was that I heard someone lamenting how they had had two whilst I was popping my fourth into my mouth (no regrets).

Showing how it's done!

After a small tour of the workshop and a group photo, it was decided that we would all get back onto the bus and make our way back to Montréal.

There's two things about this experience I would like to point out. One, it is probably the only time and opportunity I will have to ever visit a sugar shack as it is very ingrained in the Quebec culture and not necessarily obvious to outsiders. Plus the fact I hope I never come back here in March or April. And two, I did not fall over at all (which is what usually happens during trips with HEChange). Hooray!

Internet Manners and Etiquette: The Social Schisms of Getting it Wrong...

Welcome to the Internet, prepare for excommunication!

I'm going to get straight to the point. The internet is a judgemental place. And the worst part is you don't even need to know the person to feel like the lowest of the low.

Of course, not everyone feels this way and that's a good thing. But there are people out there who overthink their activities on the internet. And ashamedly, I used to be one of them. I say 'used' loosely because I'm still confronted with these issues even now. I've just learned to get a grip and not take things so personally. But that can be hard.

It can be said that every comment you post, every status you like, every message you send can be over-analysed to the point of insanity. I know there are some people who genuinely don't care and I praise these people. However, in a world where we are constantly craving the acceptance of our peers whilst maintaining a sense of individuality, I know that people will confront these issues in this mind frame. And it's unhealthy. I was inspired to write this blog because I have been confronted with many of these issues before and one recently, really got me thinking.

A few days ago, a girl added me on Facebook. I did not know her personally and I have never spoken to her in my life but she is also on exchange in Montreal and because she comes from the British Isles, I decided to add her. I thought perhaps she maybe wanted to open a dialogue with me which I was happy to provide (I'm a nice person like that). Now, usually, I do not add or accept people who I do not know and because this girl did not contact me in anyway, I decided to delete her today. Yet, when I went to delete her, I found she had already deleted me. 

And yet, I'm the one who feels like an idiot. Am I oversensitive or over-thinking it? Perhaps. And I will gladly admit that I am a sensitive person and an over-thinker. But there are questions that have been raised. Why did she add me? Why did she delete me? Was she being nosey? Was she unimpressed just by looking at my profile? All these questions have been brought since this silly interaction and its genuinely ridiculous. However, the worst thing was feeling like an idiot and it actually made me feel slightly angry. Then I got over it and decided to channel it into a blog.

This made me think about other things that make people feel ostracised from the internet. Here are a few examples.

• Bad Grammar: I'm not massively critical of people who spell the occasional word wrong or get the occasional grammar rule mixed up. It happens to the best of us (like me). However, there are some people on the internet who go out of their way to persecute these people (The Dreaded Grammar Nazis). 
• Adding Friends: You know when Michael McIntyre talks about the handshake/hug thing? When one person is going to greet a person with a handshake and the other is going to greet them with a hug and they meet in the middle and its horrendous? Well, how do you know when you're ready to add someone as a friend on Facebook? And why is it so nerve-wracking waiting for the acceptance? AND WHY DO YOU BREATHE A SIGH OF RELIEF WHEN THEY ACCEPT?
• Friend Number: I know this affects a lot of people (and if it doesn't, I envy you). But then again, that's what it boils down to. Why do we measure the success of our peer's social lives on the number of Facebook Friends? Why are we so jealous if someone has more friends than us? Does it mean they have more friends than us? Are they better loved than us? Do they have better social lives than us?
• Birthdays on Facebook: When it's someone's birthday, if they didn't say 'Happy Birthday' to me, I don't say 'Happy Birthday' to them. How do I find this out? I look at our friendship page. I think this is a pretty common law in the world of Facebook.
• Instagram Hashtags: If you have twenty hashtags, you are seen as an attention-seeking weirdo. And you're automatically jealous of people who have sixty likes with one hashtag.
• Arguments: Expect to lose your argument if you spell something wrong. Even if your argument is invincible. Also, expect to lose your right to an opinion if it conflicts someone elses and a whole day lost to arguing.

There are loads more I could list. I mean, basically every action on the internet has a consequence. However, the point I'm trying to get at is that why are there are so many unspoken norms about internet etiquette? Why do we need to think about every action? 

Nowadays, I don't care. However, when I was younger, I did and I think it's horrible thing to feel ostracised at such a young age, especially from a place where everyone is supposed to be 'welcome'. The internet can be a cruel place and we need to stop the judgement and the measuring of our self worth by statistics.

Yeah, this blog was pretty pathetic, I know.

Scottish Independence: How does one decide the fate of a nation?

Today, First Minister Alex Salmond (or maybe 'not so affectionately' known as 'Big Eck') announced in parliament the date for the Scottish referendum on Independence. In 547 days, on Thursday 18th September 2014, the good citizens of our great nation will come together and decide the very future of Scotland with a single 'Yes' or 'No' question. I think it's a huge responsibility that weighs heavily on our shoulders and with the  knowledge that the whole world will be desperately awaiting the result, it really has the potential to change the face of the British Isles as we know it.

As I have mentioned before, I am a patriotic bastard (I'm actually the worst person you could ever meet). Therefore, my knee-jerk reaction is to vote a loud and resounding 'No'. Perhaps it's due to my half English, half-Scottish heritage, perhaps its due to fear, I don't know. But then, I remembered that I don't really have enough information to formulate an opinion yet. Therefore, maybe I should sheath my opinion until after I have vanquished my ignorance.

Personally, I don't think there is enough information being provided to the general public about the referendum. And it's not a simple decision either. The independence of Scotland would have such an impact on the entire running of our country, with the far-reaching consequences of our actions being felt by our descendants, the next generation of Scots. However, the lack of information is from both sides. You have one side telling you 'Independence is Bad' but not really going into detail why and vice versa with the Scottish government.

I'm concerned with the lack of transparency thus far. And I think a lot of it is to do with a complete lack of trust in our governments, both British and Scottish. The expenses fiasco, the lies, the corruption; it all feeds the public's contempt for the government. We all feel like we're not being given the full story, all of the time which is very counter-productive when attempting to make a decision like this. In short, we just don't know who is telling the truth or not.

Which is why, now that the date has been announced, I hope that this opens the floodgates to some serious debate on the subject. I don't wish to live in ignorance and I'm sure most of the Scottish population don't want to either. A series of healthy, CLEAN debates are desperately needed, which will help us all to see the benefits of becoming an independent Scotland and the disadvantages, coupled with some concrete facts which will hopefully give us a clear picture of whether Scotland is ready to become an independent nation or whether she is to remain within the UK. Then and only then, will we be able to make well-educated and rounded decisions about the fate of our nation.

However, until such a day comes where I see a strong argument for Scottish independence, my vote currently is a 'No'. And also, a strong point for the argument against independence is that the Union Jack would just look weird.

Anyway, Watch This Space!

Music Review: 'Every Weekend' by Hadouken!

So, on my old blog, I tried doing reviews and I actually really enjoyed writing them. Personally, they helped me to sift through all the good and bad points of a specific piece of media whilst having the potential to inspire at least one person to watch or listen to what I review which is always good. Therefore, I have decided to begin it again (I really want to blog more) so here's my review of Hadouken's new album, 'Every Weekend'.

Band: Hadouken!
Album Name: 'Every Weekend'
Formed: 2006
Album Number: 3
Released: 18th March 2013
Genres: Electronic, Dance, Dubstep, Drum and Bass

Hadouken! burst onto the grimey, underground dance scene in early 2006 before releasing their first mixtape, entitled 'Not Here to Please You' in 2007. The mixtape, initially released on a USB stick instead of a CD featured many songs with the age-old themes of sex, drugs, drink and 'Rock n' Roll', designed to appeal to the young, teenage generation of rebellious teenagers and 24-hour party people. The success of their mixtape lead them to release their first album, 'Music for an Accelerated Culture' which firmly established them in the dance/rave genre. However, with the release of their second album, 'For the Masses', their music began to move away from the immaturity of singing about crashing house parties and drinking to oblivion to a more mature style of electronica. Now, with the release of their third album, 'Every Weekend', Hadouken! have gone even further, finally gaining such a mature level of electronic dance that they may finally be ready to hit the mainstream.

Album Artwork

Hadouken! have really left the themes of teenage life behind and have embraced their new concept of futurism with the design of their album cover. The electric hues dancing on the face of the female is really eye-catching whilst suggesting that this album is sure to get a rave going. Definitely more original than their previous two album covers and easily identifiable as a Hadouken! album.

9/10

Track-by-Track Rating

1. The Vortex 

A Slow build up with an electronic fanfare introduces the album before breaking down into the fast-paced beat that immediately gets the head banging. Before the verse starts, we are reintroduced to lead singer's James Smith's fast-paced lyrics that have really defined Hadouken!'s sound. A good start to the album.

7/10

2. Levitate

In my opinion, 'Levitate' is the best song off the album. The drum beat at the beginning and the quiet verses really build up to some top-notch electronic music. The music is really emotive and drives the imagination. I think it could even be one of Hadouken's best songs of all time and may yet become the song that defines them.

10/10

3. Bliss Out

'Bliss Out' has the anthemic qualities that will definitely get a crowd going at a gig with its resonating lyrics and more mellow sounding beat that will be ultimately bring the crowd together for a raucous sing-along and light dancing.

7/10

4. As One

Another song that builds up to the dizzy heights of electronic strings and synth with Smith's vocals at the beginning telling us that he won't 'let us down'. And so far, he hasn't. Another immense tune to go with the others.

8/10

5. Parasite

I really liked the radio edit of Parasite and although the single doesn't really match the epicness of 'Mecha Love' or 'Levitate', it's still a decent song that almost seems to relate the old Hadouken! and the new Hadouken! together in one song. Plus, I love the breakdown. However, I think the album version is not as catchy as the radio edit and perhaps, they should have stuck with the edit.

6/10

6. Bad Signal

I love 'Bad Signal'. Sampling Kim Wilde's 'You keep me Hanging On' really gives the song a different feel whilst fitting perfectly with the song's subject matter. The lyrics are excellent and whilst the beat is more toned down, you can get a better sense of the concept behind this song rather than just getting a good sample of dubstep or electronica.

8/10

7. Stop Time

Probably my least favourite track on the album. I don't like the vocals or the melody in the song very much and is a forgettable moment in the album but no album is perfect. I could imagine, with the alarm-sounding notes, being quite popular in clubs but it doesn't really fit with Hadouken!'s style. However, in saying that, it's still not a bad song.

5/10

8. Spill Your Guts

'Spill Your Guts' is definitely one of the highlights on the album. It's 80's - sounding synths sounds like it's straight out of an science fiction - action movie. The alien-sounding main body of the song and the haunting vocals really makes the song stand out. A great moment during the album.

8/10

9. The Comedown

'The Comedown' is probably the one song that will grow on people on this album. It's perhaps one of these songs that one is unsure of at first but has the potential to be one of the best songs on the album. The song starts with the guitar which is reminiscent of the big summer dance tracks that you hear in clubs during holidays abroad before launching into a dubstep-rich beat. One to watch out for.

7/10

10. Daylight

At first, I wasn't sure about this collaboration with Drummsound and Baseline Smith. However, the more times I listen to it, the more fond I become of it. It's very drum n' bass, sounding very like early Pendulum stuff (from Hold Your Colour) and once I made this connection, I respected the song more. Again, another song that grows on you.

7/10

11. Oxygen

I never really thought much about 'Oxygen' when it was first released as a single and I still don't think much of it. I think because it was released after 'Mecha Love' (which I will talk about afterwards), it could never attain the same level of gravitas as it, which sort of set it up to fall anyway. It will never be a favourite of mine and probably one I'd skip.

4/10

12. Mecha Love

Ending the album on a high to end all highs is the track 'Mecha Love'. Not only is this Hadouken!'s best ever song but is also one of my all-time favourites too. Everything about it, the introductory notes, the vocals, the build-up to the beat, the final push and the ultimate finale of the song are all perfect, absolutely perfect. One of the best displays of electronic music of all time and definitely the one to put on loud.

10/10

Final Word

'Every Weekend' encompasses everything Hadouken! is trying to change about its image. You really get the sense of the growing maturity amongst the band members, who are no longer the rowdy, rebellious teenagers they once were. Most of the songs are excellent and whilst with their first two albums, which both have their highs and lows, this album is a complete and utter high. Although there are a few minor blips along the way, overall, the album is anthemic and epic. I hope 'Every Weekend' provides the platform that Hadouken! needs to attain the real levels of recognition and success that the band really deserves.

8.5/10

The Home Run

Right Now: 'The Vortex' - Hadouken!

"Day 83 in the big Montreal House". These very words terrify me. I can't even believe it's possible that those many days have gone by since I first set foot in Montreal. And it's been a period of time where there has been a lot of highs and of course, with any new experience, a few lows too.

I cannot lie, exchange life hasn't always a bed of roses. There were the infestations of mice and recently, ants that I've had to contend with, which doubled with my other flatmates 'rocky' relationship with our landlady (she loves me, she gave me a Chinese pear) has not helped. Then, there's of course the weather, which really is nothing short of abysmal, especially when about 12 inches of snow decides to dump all over Montreal at the end of March. It's rather unacceptable. And of course, the most obvious factor is the constant longing to see my best friends and family again. I think, you could travel the entire world, experience and see the most wonderful things the globe has to offer and yet, I don't think there is anywhere quite like home (even East Kilbride, even East Kilbride). It's a deep-rooted connection that can't be broken, you can hear it calling you back and there comes a time when you just can't fight it anymore.

However, and this is a big 'However'. I am now getting to the stage where I'm so settled into a routine here that it almost feels like home. I realised it today when I walked 'home' from university and I didn't have to think about which way to go or which path to take. I just did it automatically and when the experience has entered your sub conscience, it starts to hit you that this place maybe means slightly more to you than you first thought. I enjoy being able to wake up when I want to, choosing when to eat, what to eat, when to shop, where to go out for dinner... The freedom of choice is literally limitless and that for me, is something which is priceless. I have also had great opportunities to travel, the highlight being meeting my family in New York City. It was a dream to go there and usually, when you people say 'OhmyGosh, New York is the best place ever' you wonder, can it really be that good? Well, I can tell you honestly it is. Boston was also a very beautiful place and somewhere I really think I would enjoy living permanently. Finally and the most important thing is, I have met some truly lovely people here who I hope I can be friends with for life. At first, I found it difficult because I missed a lot of fresher's week due to illness and other factors. I admit, I felt out of the loop for a long time. But gradually, you build on it and you meet new people. I mean, if I had to put it in simple terms, sixteen people came out for my birthday and I've known them around two and a half months. Last year, about fourteen people came out for my birthday and I've known them for years. It's nice to know that wherever I go in Asia, I will always have a friend there and I hope these people they will always have a friend in Scotland too.

So, now it's the home run. I have 53 days left to make this exchange the best experience of my life so far. And with events such as Toronto and Niagara Falls and Spring coming, I don't think it will difficult! 

NB: As some of you may have seen, I recently became a blogger for Fireball Liqueur Official UK. My  first blog hasn't been published yet but I'm really excited! I'm not sure how this is going to affect the frequency of this blog (which you know, is pretty much non-existant anyway) but I really want to try keeping them both going. So, I would really appreciate it if I could see the same level of support for my Fireball blog as I do for this one (plus you might actually win goodies and you'll be getting a guaranteed blog from me twice a month).

Thanks dear readers!

What exactly is the 'Harlem Shake'? One Woman's Battle for Knowledge...

Right Now: 'Best It's Gonna Get Vs. Tainted' - Celldweller

As you may have been noticing on your newsfeeds, there is a new dance craze circulating the internet called 'The Harlem Shake'. Now, I have seen quite a few videos of numerous groups of people attempting their own version and I have to admit, it's funny! However, I have been confronted with the fact that for the first time in my life, I do not know anything about the origins of this viral dance epidemic and therefore, I have decided today that instead of studying for my exam on Sunday (It's multiple choice, Bite Me!), I will instead uncover the mysteries surrounding this craze and hopefully educate those who, like me, are in a permanent stage of confusion around this thing that 'seems cool'.

Step One: To Wikipedia!

My journey to infinite knowledge begins with Wikipedia (obviously). Whenever society is faced with the unknown, the first thing we turn to is a our good, free friend, Wikipedia. If Wikipedia was a person, he'd be the guy who'd let you borrow some sugar, who'd help push your car in the snow, who would offer you the last biscuit on the plate. The 'Good Guy Greg' of the internet, if you will. 

I have typed 'Harlem Shake' into Wikipedia and I have been greeted by three different pages. I was not aware that the 'Harlem Shake' had so much depth, so much history. Already, I can feel this is going to take some time. The first page is dedicated to the dance, which seems to be like a good place to start. Apparently, the 'Harlem Shake' originated in 1981 in... You guessed it, Harlem! It was based on an Ethiopian dance called the 'Eskista'. The 'self purported  creator of this dance, 'Al B' (which is a very lazy nickname) seems to be a bit too lively on the party scene, as he is quoted saying that the dance 'comes from the ancient Egyptians' and describes it as 'what the mummies used to do'.  Now, I'm not an expert on Ancient Egyptian history but I find it hard to believe that long-dead, saturated corpses could spontaneously 'get their groove on' and I don't think any evidence of this has been painted in hieroglyphics (unless that was the curse that killed Howard Carter and Lord Carnavan)...

Anyway, this 'Al B' nonsense is annoying me and I'm no closer to finding out what the virality of the 'Harlem Shake' is all about. I have fallen for the student trap that is Wikipedia once again. It's like my kryptonite. Therefore, it's time to try a different method of gathering information. 

Step Two: Yahoo! Answers

I love Yahoo! Answers. I'm not sure if that means I'm a sad human being or not but I find it useful (and amusing too). Sometimes. My question was simple: 'What is the Harlem Shake?' Here are some of the answers I received.

Helpful? I think not. Also, I find the top contributor's post the most terrifying. She's like fifty? What would her children say?  I'm horrified but I'm also digressing. So, according to the good (and rather strange) denizens of Yahoo! Answers, it's basically just a silly little dance where people go crazy (and get naked). Hmm, okay but how did it get so popular all of a sudden? (I think I'm onto a bigger philosophical discovery than Aristotle)

Step Three: YouTube

Perhaps it would have been wise to begin with YouTube but I'm a gatherer of knowledge, a hunter of wisdom. I want all the facts before I commit to something (even if the facts are from either a website that anyone can edit or a community where satirical answers reign supreme). Through sleuthing, I discovered that the original video was from an account called TheSunnyCoastState. Here it is in all its glory.

And now, I finally get it. 'Harlem Shake' is just another craze and a hilarious one at that. It involves one person in a room full of people dancing to the song. When the bass drops, everyone joins in. And that's the 'Harlem Shake'. The best part is that there doesn't need to be a point in it, everyone needs a little bit of crazy in their lives. It's popularity is marked by the fact that everyone can get involved, no matter where you come from. Gangnam Style was last year's fad but is this year's ultimate craze the 'Harlem Shake'? Only time will tell.

Tomorrow, HEC Montreal are holding their own official homage to the 'Harlem Shake' in the cafeteria. I feel the only way for me to truly become one with the 'Harlem Shake' is to experience it for myself. Watch this space.

This is a long blog but it's important...

Firstly, I just wish to point out that I am a straight lady and I'm not the oppressed one. But I am a very opinionated person and I wish to make a statement about my feelings on Gay Marriage. I would suggest grabbing popcorn, it's gonna be a long one.

Almost fifty years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered possibly the most iconic speech of the 20^th Century. You may not know all of its content but you will certainly have heard the phrase, ‘I Have a Dream’. The ‘I Have a Dream’ speech was about ending the prejudice and suffering that had plagued African-Americans since the abolition of slavery. And it set in motion a great change, a positive change. Whilst, sadly, racism is still around us from a small-minded minority, the thought of black people not having equal rights in today’s world is unthinkable. No-one could get away with it. It is almost horrendous to think that just a short time ago, black people were treated as second-class citizens. However, whilst it is a shameful chapter in our history, thankfully, it’s mostly in the past.

Sadly though, I find myself asking the question: why haven’t we learned from the mistakes of our predecessors? Why must some community of our society always be made to feel second-class or unequal? And will we ever get to a stage in our history where everyone can live equally?

I wish I knew the answer to that question but the fact is: There is no answer. No-one should be made to feel unequal. And yet, we continue to let it happen.

Gay people have been around since approximately the dawn of time. First of all, I’m going to put some metaphorical science goggles on and get slightly biological. Men have, over the course of a million years, developed a prostate gland, which when stimulated can provide pleasure. However, the site of this gland is only reachable through ‘ahem’, the back passage. Now, we don’t need to have a PHD in medicine to know that women do not possess the right apparatus to reach this area and whilst I can’t be totally positive, I don’t think men back then were double jointed or flexible enough to reach it (The Cavemen Olympic Gymnastics Team didn’t have much success, I hear).

Without going into too much explicit detail, ‘cough’ ‘cavemen probably had sex’ ‘cough’. Whilst I’m not pointing out that men are biologically gay, I am saying that men engaged in sexual activities with other men during the process of evolution and as such, men have developed to reflect that. However, I won’t ponder too much on this, I’d have to try and persuade people who don’t believe in evolution and that, my friends, is a whole other can of worms.

In Ancient Rome, there were, surprise, surprise, Gay people. When the ruins of Pompeii were uncovered thousands of years after it had been covered in volcanic ash, mosaics and wall carvings were found depicting same-sex lovers. Art dated back to Ancient Greece depicts women sharing intimacy with each other. William Shakespeare was rumoured to have been bi-sexual, with his sonnet, number 126, said to have been written about his male lover. 

I could go on but the reason I point all of this out is that when people have the opinion that there are more homosexual people now than there were in the past (and view it as a negative thing) they are wrong. Whilst, yes, there are more openly gay people now, it is because it is deemed more acceptable. Back then, there were probably many people who were gay but out of fear of being disowned or worse, they pretended to the world that they were heterosexual. They married the opposite sex to continue the façade of being ‘normal’.

The point is, I don’t see why Scotland as a nation should have to hold a consultation of Gay marriage. It shouldn’t be an issue and to be honest, it’s no-one else’s business if two men or two women want to get married, it doesn’t affect you. I mean, I am a straight woman but I do not think that I should have any more right to be able to get married to the man I love than any of my gay or lesbian friends do.

I’m not religious in the slightest but I will always respect and support people’s right to have a faith and be religious. However, I do not think it is right to base a democratic country such as Scotland’s laws on a religious order. Whilst I have the utmost respect for Christianity, there is no solid evidence of the existence of a God. I’m not saying there isn’t one but presently, we cannot assume for definite that there is one. However, what you cannot dispute is that there are people in this world, men with women, women with women and men with men, who love each other and wish to start a life together. Heterosexual people get the opportunity to share their love with the world without prejudice whereas homosexuals do not and that, my friends, is the sign of inequality in our society and it needs to end.

To people who believe it is there business to protect the traditional family unit and prevent homosexuals from marrying, I ask them to take a look at ‘traditional marriage’. More and more traditional marriages end in divorce now than ever before. How is that a better family unit than two loving homosexual partners who might live together forever happily in marriage but currently do not get the chance? And to the people who say that they shouldn’t be able to adopt children, I ask them to put themselves in the shoes of countless children in care and see if they would rather stay in the system or be allowed a chance at a happy life with two loving parents, regardless of gender. The world is changing and family units are changing and we can either stay in the past with narrow-minded views or we can embrace change and let everyone become equal.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion but unless it affects you, don’t prevent others from doing what they believe in. Personally, I don’t believe in religion, I think it restricts people (and that might be more a more strongly-held opinion because I am female) but I don’t go out and campaign for people to stop believing in their faith. Instead, I respect and support their right to practice their faith because it doesn’t concern me and people should be allowed to live their lives in a way that suits them without affecting anyone else. However, the same courtesy is not being provided to homosexuals and that is fundamentally wrong.

If you have a problem with gay marriage then I implore you to step back and look at the situation. Do two men or two women marrying each other negatively affect your life? And secondly, if you were in their shoes and marriage between heterosexuals was illegal, how would you feel? How would you feel not being able to marry the person you love?

If you can answer both of those questions sensibly then I ask you to either support gay marriage or to not stand in its way.

I hope that in the future, when my children are my age, they can look back on this chapter in history and ask me ‘Why were gay people prejudiced in the first place?’ and realise how ridiculous we were in preventing it for such a long time. Whether my children are heterosexual, homosexual or even convert to a religious order, I don’t care because all I want is for people to be happy and to pursue the life that they want to live and most importantly, have an equal standing in society.

Equal rights, equal love.

For those interested in supporting Gay Marriage, please sign or provide feedback to the Scottish Government's consultation on Gay Marriage through here:

equalmarriage.org.uk

'Beksinski'

I have a dilemma. I can't decide if I'm becoming an old fart or not.

I was browsing 9Gag the other night (as I do every single other night) and came across a post about an artist called Beksinski. Beksinski was a Polish artist and his work, for want of a better word, is creepy. Really creepy. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm old for finding another artist I appreciate but I'm also young because I found out about him on 9Gag. Make any sense?

People who know me, know that I don't really like horror movies. I won't go and see one in the cinema because I am all appreciative of a good night sleep without worrying that a fire-breathing, purple with pink polka-dots demon will grab my ankle that is hanging off the side of the bed and drag me straight to Hell. No-one needs that sort of thought-process before going to sleep. However, no matter how much I insist, I find the whole genre very interesting and I find these paintings very interesting. Like my previous rant about 'real art', these painting represent something: people's worst nightmares. And they're very scary, they're like photos a tourist who recently had an all-inclusive week in Hell took. And some of them match up with how I imagine 'Hell' to look like. But these paintings 'mean' something and just by looking at them, you can deduce the meaning (or find your own).

Bekinski often painted what he saw in his dreams, which makes me feel pretty sorry for the guy if this is all you're seeing in your dreams. And he lived quite the tragic life as well too.

So, Afremov and Bekinski. My two favourite artists. My ONLY two favourite artists. The only problem with Bekinski's works is that in my head, when I have the perfect family living in a perfect house, I wouldn't feel comfortable with my children seeing all these scary paintings hanging up in the living room (Original works, of course). Maybe they could be installed in the house situated on my private island. Oh well, a girl can dream...

http://www.beksinski.pl/

I think this one scares me the most. Although, add feathers and he'd look like  Aku-Aku from Crash Bandicoot.

None of these are particularly cheery but even orange, a warm colour can't make this painting look any less depressing.

This is what Hell looks like.

So yeah, that was a depressing blog. Here's a cute picture of a puppy to cheer you up!

My Montréal Bucket List

I really like bucket lists. The reason being that they always give you something to look forward to or something to try. Basically, my bucket list serves the purpose of keeping me grounded but above all, makes life just a little bit more interesting.

I have also become self-conscious that instead of blogging about the cool things I do in Montréal, all I do is consistently moan about life and all the little things that upset the natural order of things. Therefore, in a bid  to sound less depressing like Kurt Cobain and more happy like Ellen DeGeneres, with the kind assistance of my flatmates, I have made the below bucket list of things to do in Montréal before I leave in May. 

1. St Joseph's Oratory
2. The Notre Dame Basilica
3. Igloofest
4. The Snow Festival
5. La Banquise (For REAL Poutine)
6. Real Montréal - Style Bagels
7. Attend a Hockey Match
8. Visit Beaudry Metro Station (Cool Architecture)
9. Visit Old Port during the day
10. Visit the Grand Prix Circuit
11. Pilgrimage to the Bioware Studios (for my inner gamer geek)
12. Schwartz (Smoked Meat Restaurant)
13. Olympic Park and Tower
14. Biodome
15. Museum Visits
16. Beavertails Pastries
17. Juliet + Chocolat
18. High Lights Festival

An Open Letter to the Denizens of Facebook Who Are Moaning About The Weather...

(Please Note: This blog was written in an attempt to procrastinate. I'm waiting for the American Horror Story Finale at 10pm but don't really wish to read the case study for tomorrow's class either)

Dear Facebook Friends from Scotland

Once upon a time, I was like you. Once upon a time, I would have considered a temperature of -1°C unbearable. Once upon a time, six inches of snow would have resulted in a mandatory period of hibernation. Once upon a time, I would have moaned about the weather consistently.

However, my eyes have been opened and to quote the great Johnny Nash song, 'I can see clearly now that the "snow" has gone'. You see, whilst you are all whining about a minuscule layer of frost on the path, I have to walk on pure ice. Every step I take is a matter of either life or having to use my health insurance. Shall I talk about the snow? Well, I've been here nearly four weeks and there has always been snow. It's like grass now. The worst thing is that nowadays, I pray for snow. I pray for snow because it is easier to walk on than ice. I hate snow. 

Don't get me wrong, I love this city so far. The culture is great and there are so many things to see and do. The people are very friendly (even the bus drivers say 'Hi', I'm not used to that) and HEC is probably the nicest university I've ever been to, let alone study in. However, when I chose North America for exchange, I was hoping for a climate more 'Florida' than 'Siberia'. I don't wish to sound ungrateful (even though I'm probably coming across ungrateful anyway), just hold in there, I'm going to say something nice now!

Yet, despite all this, Montreal just shrugs it off and gets on with life. 30cm of snow? Well, you better get your snowshoes on because neither work or university is closed and you're expected in. Buses and Trains? Always running and are still reliable. The thing is, people here have balls. They don't let anything get in their stride, they don't make excuses and they don't moan. It's admirable. I admit, the latter is something I'm still struggling with. I'm the moaniest person I know and not a day goes by without me remarking how cold it is (I say remarking, I mean ranting). So, I guess I'm hoping that if I can take anything from this experience, it's that I learn to 'man up' about the Scottish weather.

To show you what I mean, here are a few exhibits I wish to show to the 'court'.

Exbitit A: Snow Level

Okay, so I'm not going to lie to you, this was taken a short time after the 'freak snowstorm' hit Montreal. This amount of snow is a rare occurrence but still, SNOW.

Exhibit B: Clothing Layers

This is a hideous picture, it should come with a disclaimer about going blind but for the sake of fairness, I am allowing it to be published. This picture was taken today, when I had a pair of leggings, jeans, two tops, two scarves, large fleece, winter jacket, hat and earmuffs on. And I was still cold. Why? It was -26°C. 

Exhibit C: Paths

I can deal with most things here. Snow is okay now. But pure ice on the path? No. I've fallen over twice and both times wasn't pretty. I walk slower than the elderly here and that is shameful. But I'm so frightened of breaking my legs.

So, I guess the point of this open letter was to tell my Scottish friends who feel the constant need to moan about the weather TO MAN THE FUCK UP AND GET A GRIP. PEOPLE HAVE TO DEAL WITH FAR WORSE. EVEN FAR WORSE THAN WHAT I'M DEALING WITH. STOP BEING PUSSIES AND GET ON WITH IT. 

'Ahem' have a nice day!

Amy :)

P.S. Yesterday, my Auntie's gorgeous Golden Retriever, Robbie, sadly passed away. I know he was only a dog and perhaps some people don't appreciate how upsetting this can be to people but I was gutted to hear about his death (and cried on FaceTime, I'm not even ashamed). He was such a nice-natured dog, with his dopey wee eyes and inability to climb stairs without a push. We will always have the memories, such as when he jumped on my parent's bed on Christmas Day when we looked after him. So, God love you Robbie Dog, you will be sadly missed!

Welcome To My New Life.

Okay, I can hear all the complaints for not blogging all the way from Canada, so pipe down! I apologise for being pretty silent on the blog front in the last week or so but the reason is quite simple: I've been ill and pretty much done nothing. See, Canada didn't like me to begin with so I think it tried to kill me off. However, I persevered and now, I have a health bar at about 90%.

So, in a bid to satiate all of your appetites and jump back on the wagon, I've cheated by not blogging in a traditional sense (mwahaha) and instead, made a video starring me as myself and my flat. I hope you enjoy my dulcet, albeit slightly wheezy tones.

There is such a thing as a free lunch...

Apart from pain and heartache, the worst feeling in the world is hearing your alarm go off in the morning. The same, familiar beep always induces a painful groan at having to abandon the warmth of your bed and actually 'do stuff'. What's worse is that if you use a song that you like as your alarm, you eventually associate it with the negative painfulness of waking up and you begin to hate the song. To this day, I cannot listen to 'Sahara' by Nightwish without feeling physically sick.

Luckily, I didn't sleep through the alarm on Thursday morning as I usually do and woke at 7am. I put some toast in the toaster before realising that the university were providing it today and gleefully put it back in the cupboard (another day's lunch, woo hoo)! We all got ready and headed to the university which is about a ten minute walk (or fifteen minutes for slow walkers like me...) and got to the steps of HEC Montreal and ventured inside. We asked at reception where we were due to go and was directed to go up the stairs to the cafeteria. It's hard to describe how I felt when I saw inside for the first time but I was quite overwhelmed with how beautiful it is. It's so modern, sleek, clean, white, fresh and ... cool. Cool is probably the perfect word to describe it. We were told to register at a desk and we were given a sticker with our name and home country on it before being directed to the breakfast table. I have to say, I was very impressed, it was like a Hilton Breakfast (which I am now very accustomed to and can vouch they are awesome). Settling for a Croissant and what looked like Pain au Chocolat, I sat with my flatmates. 

After about half an hour we were directed into the 'Amphitheatre' (loving all the posh rooms already) and were introduced to International Exchange Office personnel, who were all very nice, friendly and warm. They gave us a lecture on Montreal, how to survive Winter (hibernation isn't an option apparently, damn) and a basic introduction into life here. We were then directed to the cafeteria again and waited for lunch to be served (my purse was rejoicing). Lunch was amazing, nice sandwiches, pasta, houmous... I can tell you all right now that Strathclyde would never prepare a spread like that. The Danish Whirls were also pretty awesome. Whilst collecting our lunch, we were given our 'Fresher's Week' wristbands, which would give us access to pretty much every activity under the sun (or snow, whatever). 

After lunch, we explored a bit more of the building and discovered that there are no room numbers in HEC, rather they are all named after local businesses, who probably sponsor them (quite clever I think). For example, there was Scotia Banque, KPMG, Xerox Canada etc. (None of these I have heard of, of course). The rooms look amazing inside as well, comfy chairs, big screens. It really does make Strathclyde look like a rubbish heap and even though I may crave for home, I doubt I will look forward to returning to the Strathclyde campus (or starting a dissertation for that matter).

After delaying the inevitable, we finally joined the back of the registration queue to pay for our health insurance. I'm not even exaggerating when I say the queue didn't move for an hour and then we had to go and show our passport to someone and that took about twenty minutes too. However, as soon as it was done, we decided to show Ludovica where the supermarket was and help her get some stuff. The paths were really slippy that day and I was taking my time but also lagging behind (normal Amy speed really). We eventually made it to the supermarket, albeit, the scenic route and I was celebrating having made it. Until I put my foot off the kerb and slipped on a bit of ice. It was weird, as I was falling backwards, I had enough time to think 'Oh no' before I landed. Luckily, I landed on my bum and my bones were still intact. This is a win for me. Never have I been so happy to carry excess weight! However, I made a decision there and then to avoid shortcuts and follow all paths. It's weird, you lose your confidence a wee bit but you have to get back out there. 

We walked to Pharmaprix, a sort of Boots and I looked for painkillers, having been blessed with the foresight that I was going to have a very sore arse in the morning. However, at $10 for a packet of Tylenol  I preferred suffering the pain. I'm not sure why they don't do 39p packets of Paracetamol here, the prices here are just ridiculous. We then waited at Fido for about an hour before going to the shops. By the time we got home, it was about seven and we needed to leave the house at quarter to eight to go to the first bar of  Fresher's Week. I managed to wolf down some left over pasta from the day before (I am so into the leftover food movement, it's glorious) and put a bit of slap on before heading to HEC. We then had to walk to the bar, which was for me, a hard slog of a walk and we passed Decelles, the other building which I have the misfortune of having a class at 8.30am on a Tuesday. We then went to Bar Tabasco, which turned out to be a ten minute walk from our apartment. We had gone in a circle. Lovely.

Bar Tabasco was great. The drink prices were not too shabby and I got the opportunity to speak to a lot of my fellow exchange students, in a relaxed environment, where we could head each other speak. We then walked home after a few hours and went to bed early, to be up and ready for another amazeballs lecture (yay).

Tea in a Saucepan is how we roll...

Wednesday arrived with a 'clatterboom' as I heard my landlady's shrill voice at 9am, heralding the arrival of our Chinese flatmate, Ka Ki (or Katrina). All I can say is that I'm glad Aziza was up and about otherwise they would have been standing behind that door for a long time. An interesting thing that I should point out which I have noticed both at Strathclyde last year and in Montreal is that students coming from China often choose English-sounding names as monikers during their studies. As cool as this is, I also feel slightly sorry that Chinese people feel the need to choose names that people find easier to pronounce. For example, I would hate to simplify my name, it's my name and everyone should know it (I'm not sure why I'm going on a bizarre tangent here, I'm tired).

Anyway, I hurriedly pulled on my clothes, not wanting to meet my new flatmate in nothing but pyjamas and tried in vain to mould my hair into an acceptable style. We introduced ourselves and spoke to her for a while. She had had an insane 18-hour journey from Hong Kong and was very jet-lagged, poor thing. Leaving Ka Ki to adjust and settle in, I went into the kitchen to prepare a seemingly simple breakfast of toast. Except the fact that the toaster is broken and you have to physically hold the toast down whilst it cooks. I mean, Jesus wept and that's all I have to say on the matter.

However, at around 11am, the landlady very kindly offered to drive us around the block and show us the local landmarks. Firstly she took us to the shopping centre near us, which is probably similar to a retail park. Inside, there was a supermarket, Metro, which I would describe as the equivalent of Morrison's, a shop very similar to B&M and 'Dollarama', a one-dollar shop and possibly my favourite shop here so far (I am a genuinely poor student now, after all). The landlady very kindly waited whilst we did some shopping and then drove us back home, which was great considering how heavy our bags were, via HEC Montreal, which was the first time I had seen it in reality. I have to say, It's quite an impressive building, if not slightly ugly. Although, as my cousin said, it was 'probably sexy in the nineties'.

After we were dropped back home, I fluttered around, trying to make sense of my biggest enemy since the rope frame at the gym, the American-style washing machine. I believe that the washing machine is its own entity, has its own mind and has one goal and one goal only, the goal being to confuse every single international student who uses it. There are so many dials on this thing... I didn't even know where to begin. By a random act of divine intervention or magic, I managed to get some things washed but they didn't turn out very well (although, it might be because the detergent is from Dollarama, go figure).

It's always after you've been shopping that you realise you have forgotten something and I realised that I needed to get another pillow. I have a King-Size bed in Montreal (which I'm not used to, I still use only one side of it, although I intend to learn the spread eagle position momentarily) and I only had one pillow. Not only do I have four at home (don't gasp at me, they are flat and firm, not these big, soft fluffy monstrosities) but the bed just doesn't look right with one pillow. So, I decided to be a big girl and venture out on my own, back to the retail park. I was quite proud of myself for undertaking this expedition, mainly because if I fell and injured myself, I would probably be left to die in the snow (like what happens to climbers on Mount Everest).

I made it to the retail park unscathed and headed to SUPERMAX (the B&M) and found a pillow for $8, which I thought was pretty good. The other thing I needed was a king size sheet because the double one I bought would not fit, no matter how many times I pulled and stretched it. The cheapest one they had was $35 so I think I can live with the double sheet not quite fitting the whole bed for the moment (I've taken student living to extremes). Then, I headed to Dollarama, which is genuinely amazing, bought a few bits and pieces before buying milk at Metro and making my way home. And I made it back alive. Put it this way, if it was socially acceptable to high five yourself, I would have, I was so proud of myself.

Then, I Facetimed my family and it was genuinely great to see them all. It's probably the best part of my day. But then as soon as I sign off, I get a wee bit teary-eyed and start to miss them. Sometimes, I wish they'd just put my sister's iPhone on the sofa, in front of the TV and then I could be with them for a few hours, sort of like a robot. But that would be silly (but possible, I think it could work, wishful thinking...) I'm not sure if these bouts of homesickness are going to pass or not but I hope so. Sometimes, I think I'm being silly because I see my flatmates and they don't seem as homesick as me. Bleurgh!

Around about 8pm, Nana, our Japanese flatmate arrived with her two friends to move some of her stuff into the apartment. When I say 'some' stuff, I mean it looked like she had robbed a shop because she had about fifteen different bags with different things in them. I thought the apartment might explode. Once her friends had helped her move in, we all sat down and had a wee chat (and her friends had a well-deserved rest) before they all went to the bar. It seems I'm not as hardcore as I like to think I am because I didn't go. About an hour later, Ludovica, the last flatmate arrived with friends of her family and she settled in, before going to bed, exhausted from a day's flying. Whilst she was getting a tour, Aziza, Ka Ki and me decided it was a good idea to have a cup of tea and retrieved the kettle. All was well until we looked inside the kettle and discovered it was as black as night. Yuck. So, we settled for the next best thing, a saucepan. Lovely. The best part was that as we were huddled around this saucepan waiting for the water to boil, the landlady described our kitchen to Ludovica as 'well-equipped'. Uh huh.

However, the tea was a success and after a nice wee chat and a laugh, we decided to go to bed because some bright spark at HEC Montreal thought that everyone would like to come for a welcome meeting at 8.30am. Nom.

New Year, New Me...

Despite going to bed at 4am after getting back from Old Port, I was bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 9.30am and set about packing my case in preparation for moving into my new apartment later that day. It felt great not having to live out of a suitcase anymore but I was really nervous and I felt sad that I was leaving the safe, cotton-wool environment that I had experienced with my cousin and Benoit. It was like a bird flying from the nest, setting out on its own. And I was worried about whether my flatmates would like me or not. Stressing about everything, no different from reality really.

We had lunch and chilled for a few hours. Luckily, because my cousin and Benoit are so nice, they took one of my cases each and all I had to carry was my rucksack and shopping bags. I felt a bit like a Princess, truth be told. And lazy.

We had to take two buses and traipse through enough snow to bury an Eskimo but we eventually made it to Avenue de Kent, my home for the next four months. The street overlooks a park, which although covered in snow, would probably look lovely in Summer. We made it to the apartment and were greeted by the landlady, who took us upstairs and showed me my room. Usually, when you see pictures of an apartment on the internet, you can't tell if your room is going to be like that but I was pleasantly surprised. My room is lovely and very spacious (not something I'm used to).

Then, I met my first lovely flatmate, Aziza, who is from Milan, Italy with Egyptian origins (quite exotic)! We spoke to the landlady for a little while before she started 'cleaning' again. (I think her standards of cleaning are very different to Aziza and my standards of cleaning). I was then very rude to my new flat mate and left for a few hours to have New Year's Day pizza round my cousin's, courtesy of Pizza Pizza. The cool thing about this company is that as soon as you order online, there is a 20-minute countdown timer and if your order is not ready in 20 minutes, you get it for free! Sadly, that didn't happen to us. However, the better news is that the pizza was amazing and so were the chicken nuggets (Omnomnom).

Then, Michael and I got the two buses back to my apartment and arrived at my humble abode where we bid farewell. It was sad seeing the only familiar face in Montreal leave me but I mustered up my stiff British upper lip and carried on to the front door, which I couldn't open and had to get Aziza to open it instead. What a fail.