These are my covies.

Dear Jade,

These are my covies.

 

...my cheering uniform

...my krumping, getting-low, dance-like-noone’s-watching suit.

 

I like my covies because they are breezy, they have big pockets, and stains don’t show up.

I like them because no matter how much I sweat in them, they never seem to smell bad.

I like them because they are so unusual in and of themselves that it doesn’t really matter what I do when I wear them.

My covies are a daily reminder that the best things in life are free.

They remind me to be invested in the moment, to let go of inhibitions, and to do good things for others.

They remind me that being a team is not about homogeneity but about embracing and celebrating differences.

They remind me that I am only young once

My covies have 37 companions, belonging to 37 of the most incredible people I have ever met.

These are my covies and, in spirit, I wear them all the time.

Love,

Cindy

Work

Dear Jade,

I have work to do.

It’s not work that I want to do, but it’s definitely work that I want to be done doing.

Today I’m going to do work.

Ok.

Well, I’m a little hungry right now so I should probably get something to eat because I can’t work on an empty stomach.

Go to the caf...

Get some toast with peanut butter and hon...

Crap, I got honey on my sweater. That’s ok, I’ll just put on another one.

...

That sweater was really the perfect thickness for the current temperature of my room. Alright, I’ll just do laundry now. I can work while my sweater’s in the wash.

Go downstairs.

Forget laundry card.

Fetch laundry card.

Ok. Do work.

First I’ll check my email...

Check my facebook...

Check your facebook...

Oh shit. I have to do work.

Oh would you look at that! Laundry’s done.

Go get laundry...

Fold laundry...

Spend 15 minutes looking for the last sock that’s mysteriously disappeared...

Ok. Work.

Open Word Document.

Title: “Hobbes and Locke”

 “A comparison between Hobbes and Locke”

“Hobbes and Locke: A comparison”

...

...

...

Oh man, my stomach just growled. It is getting close to dinnertime. If I eat dinner now, I’ll have the whole evening to do work. I’ll work for like 8 hours straight.

Ok, dinner.

Om nom nom nom nom.

Alright, work.

“Hobbes and Locke were foundational figures in Western political theory.”

“Hobbes and Locke are foundational figures in Western political theory.

“Thomas Hobbes and John Locke are foundational figures in Western political theory.”

“Thomas Hobbeseesewwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”

Oh crap I drifted off. I’m really sleepy, I shouldn’t have had such a big dinner.

Maybe I should take a nap. NO. I have to do work.

But I’ll be so much more productive if I’m well rested...

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

ALARM.

Snooze.

ALARM.

Snooze.

ALARM

Ok, ok, I have to do work.

Check my email...

Check my facebook...

Go on Youtube...

Funny dog...

Funny baby...

Not-so funny baby...

Google “cutest babies”...

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME I HAVE TO DO WORK.

“Hobbes and Locke disagreed on many things.”

Text message.

Someone wants to talk. Friendship > School.

Talk.

Talk.

Talk.

Talk.

Talk.

Oh shit, it’s 3 in the morning.

Well, I’m not going to be productive at this time of night, so I might as well hit the hay.

Tomorrow I’m definitely going to do work.

Love,

Cindy

 

Things I've learned from my parents

Dear Cindy,

Coming home after a gruelling slew of midterms means finally falling asleep, carefree and secure in the knowledge that your dreams will not be plagued by pre-exam uncertainties or the guilt at not finishing that last chapter of econ problems. Mornings mean gradually drifting in and out of sleep until finally accepting wakefulness, luxuriously long breakfasts, time to pore over a newspaper. Reading means a blissful escape purely for pleasure’s sake. Laughter means new jokes with old friends. As the mind shrugs the cacophony of competing facts and arguments, the body sloughs long accumulated tension. There are the simple joys and delightful surprises of having your laundry done and meticulously folded overnight, your favourite type of apples (honeycrisp) waiting for you in a special bowl, and being greeted by your dog as if you had never left.

Coming home from university also lends a far deeper appreciation of my parents. I perceive them less as mercurial offerers of permission or refusal, and increasingly as allies: sometimes they are maybe even friends? Now I can better acknowledge that much of what they have done is where I hope to be, and much about them is who I hope to be. What I have learned from them has often had more meaning than what I have gleaned from hours spent hunched over course packs or half asleep in lecture.

My mom hid her terror of water beneath a brilliant smile to help me overcome mine: she was determined that as a little girl I would develop the comfort in the water she is still trying to find. She fostered a love of books, taught me how to take photos (“never cut off peoples’ feet!”), and instilled a profound appreciation of food. 

She always tells me that one of life’s greatest pleasures and part of the secret to being a good cook is to love to eat. Her delicious concoctions and encouraging attitude (and maybe her rapid metabolism) may be solely responsible for my voracious appetite. In recent years, she has taught me how to cook healthy and (hopefully) delicious meals... using the maximum number of pots and pans available. My apologies to my roommates. 

My mom was always there to drive me to school when I missed the bus, to ferry me between sports practices, or pick me up late at night when the weather took a turn for the worse. As soon as she started the car before we drove somewhere together, she would immediately turn off the radio: she taught me that sometimes it is better to appreciate silence. Looking back, I treasure the conversations we had instead of listening to another generic Hot 89.9 tune.

Of course my mom and I fought. She taught me that it is always better to be polite when you are angry. When my mom is mad, she is dangerously calm and chivalrous. Nothing is more terrifying. Nothing works better. I aspire to adopt such an approach, but I think it needs added years of wisdom for a more potent effect.

While I struggled through school, program, and course selection, my mom always told me the most important thing was to do what you loved. If I complained about the daunting prospect of an approaching late night marathon to finish another paper, she would always tell me to just get it done: I did not have time to get stressed, she would say, and it was a waste of energy. Don’t go to bed until you’ve gotten all your ideas down and then edit the next morning, she would add, teaching me that the little details matter. Whatever work I put in, I was told, was investing in myself.

My dad is an adventure seeker. When I was two years old he would take me hiking in Vancouver parks. We would find matching walking sticks and he would call me his little wolf. Hearing about his youthful travels inspired a yearning to plan my own. He taught me that the perfect day should start with a swim right before breakfast and right before bed. He always said it was better to be the first one in the water and the last one out, but I think he applies this idea to everything he does in life. He embraces action and never wastes a moment. Breakfast should be earned by doing something to get your blood pumping beforehand, at the very least by doing push ups. 

On summer evenings, when the sun painted the clouds brilliant shades of orange, red, pink, purple... my dad would tell me to memorize the sunset and save it for a winter’s day. On summer nights, he always told me to look up at the stars: he would give me a sense of one’s almost meaningless place in existence but at the same time inspire me to strive to become more than what I am. My dad is fierier than my mom when he is mad, but he taught me never to go bed angry. You should always say I love you because you never know what can happen to people.

It is easier to understand something when you are further removed from the situation. 

Now that I have to come home to my parents I can better appreciate both their strengths and weaknesses. 

I wonder how much I will end up moulding myself in their image?

I hope I will be able to achieve a mere fraction of the things I admire about them.

Love,

Jade

Homeward Bound

Dear Jade,

I’m on the train home right now. I’ve been sitting for 7 hours straight, and I’m completely exhausted.

How weird is it that sitting for prolonged periods of time can actually make a person tired?

Especially since I spend most of those hours doing this...

Something about train rides always makes me nostalgic. Maybe it’s because I think training is kind of a rustic way to travel. Or maybe I just have a lot of time to sit around and do nothing.

Either way, every time I’m on a train, I can’t help but think about being almost-20.

About becoming a grown-up.

About where home is.

About where home will be in 3 years.

About the lyrics “Home is wherever I’m with you.”

About how cheesy and true that is.

I can’t wait to see you soon.

Love,

Cindy

Happy Valentine's Day

Dear Cindy,

I sincerely believe it would be highly beneficial to both our physical and mental well-being to skip out on midterms and papers just for a few days and take a romantic getaway. 

You're with me, right?

Love,
Jade

My Parents

Dear Jade,

Sometimes I think it’s hard for my friends to get to know my parents because of the awkward language barrier, which is a shame because they are very entertaining people. The fact that they manage to live under the same roof never ceases to amaze me.

My mom always needs to know where I’m going, who I’m with, and what I’m doing.

My dad once forgot how old I was when he was filling out a medical information form.

My mom cooks every night.

If left to his own devices, my dad’s diet would consist entirely of instant noodle and beer.

My mom can remember exactly where I put my red mitts two weeks ago.

My dad sometimes forgets to bring his wallet to the grocery store and doesn’t realize it until we have to pay.

My mom is often the most elegantly dressed person in the room.

My dad wore socks and sandals to my graduation.

If I spend two hours on a trigonometric identity, my dad can solve it in two minutes and then succinctly explain to me how he did it.

If I spend two hours trying to solve a trigonometric identity, my mom tells me that I need to do more practice problems and that she used to be great at identities because she practiced so much and that if I practiced as much as she did I could solve the identity too.

As a child, my mom was probably the teacher’s pet.

As a child, my dad was probably the awkward nerd who dug around in the dirt looking for worms at recess time.

My mom must constantly express her feelings on every subject, all the time.

I’ve never seen my dad truly sad.

My mom is afraid of skiing.

My dad is really bad at skiing but still loves it, and sometimes he’ll go down a hill 10 times and fall at the exact same spot every time.

My mom knows when all my exams are.

My dad doesn’t know what program I’m in.

My mom will try something, fail, and give up.

My dad will try something, fail, try it again, fail again... ad infinitum.

Like a lot of teenagers, I used to think that I had nothing in common with my parents. But nowadays when I look at my parents’ personalities and then look at my own, I think, “Oh. That makes sense.”

Love, 

Cindy

winter blues

Dear Cindy,
This is pathetic fallacy: midterm madness is about to be unleashed and we're caught in the midst of winter's endlessly monochromatic landscapes. To help fight off the winter blues, here are some fantastic (and more summery) art ideas that will hopefully boost your spirits!

1. String Gardens

This is definitely the ultimate way to achieve zen in one's apartment.

2. Drowning Beautiful
Jason de Caires Taylor has created underwater sculptures that interact with their environment to form a foundation for coral reefs. His creations are haunting and reminiscent of something like the lost city of Atlantis.

3. Banksy
This notorious and acclaimed British street artist's work lends a flight of fancy to graffiti.

Love,
Jade

Things I'd Tell Myself

Dear Jade,

Do you ever wish you could go back in time and tell your younger self something you know now? Like...

Age 6: Don’t pick your nose in the school play. Just because it’s not your line doesn’t mean no one can see you.
 

Age 7: Don’t be so sad that Ms. Maximitz yelled at you. She’s a bitch who hates her life.

Age 8: Don’t fart at your piano teacher’s house because she is an old British lady, and she will be appalled by your barbaric upbringing.

Age 9: Don’t watch the Sixth Sense. It will ruin your life.

Age 10: Don’t be upset about changing schools. It’ll be one of the best things that’s ever happened to you.

Age 11: Let mom put you in dance classes.

Age 12: Don’t wear make-up.

Age 13: Be nicer to people you don’t like.  Also be nicer to mom.

Age 14: The pimples will go away.

Age 15: You will one day look back and grimace at those webcam photos. Do not put them on the internet.

Age 16: Avoid that ice puddle. You will have a devastating fall in the middle of downtown Ottawa and you won’t be able to move for five minutes.

Age 17: Appreciate your friends more. A year from now you won’t get to see them every day.

Age 18: Switch out of morning classes. They will make your life miserable.

Hopefully when I’m 40, this is what I would tell my 19-year-old self: Don’t worry. Everything will turn out just fine.

Love,

Cindy

To eat

Dear Cindy,

I too have pressing lists of readings, assignments, and papers I'll hopefully someday check off my to-do list. This is probably something I should refrain from revealing to maintain a semblance of normalcy or sanity, but I've actually composed a typed, eight-page to do-list of all things I must complete this semester. Excessive? Yes, I know. It's organized by course and by week... so I can see how far I will inevitably fall behind. Although it may end up covered in stray hairs and forgotten by the end of the semester, a to-do list is useful because it's temporarily inspirational and empowering.

Whenever I sit down to slay a stack of readings, I find my thoughts consumed by the possibilities of both sweet and savoury snacks. Visions of chocolate profiteroles, cheese-drenched anything, and ice cream smothered apple pies dance in my head. Studying makes my mouth water. It's some sort of Pavlovian response: as soon as I sit down at my desk, my mind can't help but wander, and my stomach's desires triumph.

I found this sinful but delightful recipe for Oreo-stuffed chocolate chip cookies on BeckyBakes. This blogger proclaims, "life is uncertain - eat dessert first!" This is a mantra I can certainly identify with, and these cookies seem the perfect way to satisfy a sweet tooth!

Maybe it's some ancient instinct to store up before hibernation, but winter always leaves me craving an abundance of less than healthy treats. I guess eating is a good way to continuously stay warm when the temperature dips below minus 25! Last night I braved the cold and hit up Igloofest, which is a month-long outdoor music concert in Montreal! It was like a playground for drunk university students. There were awesome ice-beds, fireplaces, sculptures, and free marshmallows to roast! I rocked so many layers that I achieved a Michelin tire man look and managed to stayed toasty all night!

I just thought I'd sign off with this lovely quote:

“I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see.” -- John Burroughs 

I guess it's okay if our checklists remain incomplete, I'm sure we're doing something more worthwhile? We're probably doing the things we'll remember most when we look back.

Love,

Jade

To Do

Dear Jade,

Since coming to university, I can’t get through a day without making several to-do lists. I can’t decide if it’s because I have more things to do nowadays, or if it’s because I’ve become more of a scatterbrain. Either way, as soon as I think of an errand to run or a phone call to make or a reading to read, I have to write it down right away, or else the thought escapes me, and I can't re-remember it until it’s too late and I’ve already missed a doctor’s appointment and my mom thinks I don’t love her anymore.

It’s become quite an urgent matter actually. My thoughts are so fleeting that, sometimes, by the time I find a piece of paper and a pen, I’ve forgotten what it is I needed to do. This scares me a little. What if I think the most brilliant thought in the world and I don’t have time to write it down, and next thing I know, I can’t even remember it? 

It’s like playing a game of tag...but with my own brain and I'm not having any fun. I think I need to take up yoga or something to de-clutter my mind. Or maybe I need to see a shrink.

Anyways, here is an example of one of my typical to-do lists.

Notice how the easiest, most enjoyable tasks are crossed off first, leaving the important ones woefully untouched. Also notice how less than half the items are crossed off. I think this provides some pretty keen insight into my life. You know, something about ambition outstripping action.

I think it’d be fun to stash away all my to-do lists somewhere and look back at them years from now and wonder, or maybe laugh, at all the pressing things I needed to do. “Wow,” I’d think, “Those were my young and carefree days.”

But I’m not there yet, and from where I’m standing, it sure seems like I have a lot of pressing things to do.

Love,

Cindy

hold the burger, please

Dear Cindy,

Don’t get me wrong. I always crave my grandma’s spare ribs. McDonald’s $1.39 burgers, you are soo bad but sooo good. Sizzling bacon, you are music to my ears. Rack of lamb, get at me.

However, being in a program in environment and learning about the ecological footprint and food scarcity problems associated with consuming meat has made it impossible for me to eat it without my enjoyment being eliminated by waves of guilt.

A meat-based diet increases our resource demands, degrades the environment, and pollutes the air and water. What I’ve learned that has struck me most about a meat-based diet is that the amount of land used to feed one meat eater could feed twenty vegetarians. This is because more than half of the world’s cropland is used to grow livestock feed. Of the world’s grain, 38% is fed to livestock. 

In the United States alone, while 66% of cropland is used for livestock, a mere 2% is used to grow vegetables for human consumption. If everyone in the world ate like your average American, scientists approximate that the world would be able to support a  maximum human population of 2.5 billion, and oil reserves would be depleted within twelve years.

There is enough food in the world to feed everyone on a basic vegetarian diet, but the more people there are eating meat, the fewer people the planet will be able to support. Currently, malnutrition and under-nutrition affect 1.3 billion people. Every five to ten days, hunger related issues are responsible for about 150 000 deaths. That’s about the same death toll as Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

The majority of the world are nowhere nearly as lucky as North Americans.

About two-thirds of people are mostly vegetarian; if everyone were vegetarian, it is estimated that oil reserves would last another 260 years. There would be more resources to go around.

Meat-based diets use the bulk of agricultural fossil fuel, water, pesticide, and fertilizer inputs. For example, for every gram of pork you want to produce, you need 146 grams of feed. Massive inputs of water are required to grow that feed. A person that switches from eating meat to being vegetarian saves 5.3 million litres of water per year.

It is simply far more efficient to eat lower on the food chain. This goes back to basic biology: energy conversions are inefficient, and about 90% of the energy at each trophic level is lost. When we feed crops to animals instead of people, some of that food is simply expelled, some is used in respiration and lost as heat, and only some of the energy even assimilated into the bloodstream is used to build protein. Of the crop energy we put into producing livestock, we end up consuming only a fraction.

The soil erosion and loss of soil fertility, desertification from overgrazing, water stress and pollution, the loss of biodiversity due to habitat loss, and the health risks associated with pesticides are only the beginning of an extensive host of environmental issues associated with meat-based industrial agriculture.

Since October, I’ve decided that being a pescetarian is the attainable middle ground between eating meat and being vegetarian. Fish represents a much more efficient conversion of grains to animal proteins. It doesn’t seem like it would accomplish that much by simply cutting out meat, but it’s the most significant way a single person can reduce their impact on the environment and their carbon footprint.

To see what you can do, check out this sweet website we had to visit for one of my environment classes. It lets you calculate your ecological foot print and shows small ways you can make improvements.

It’s something you can be optimistic about, because it’s all about small changes that precipitate the larger changes you want to see.

I don’t think we need to run away and be hippies together. Not yet.

But it’s a romantic thought.

Love,

Jade

Mustachios!

Dear Jade,

Way to see the silver lining! I hope this blog will be of aid to you as you dedicate yourself to the testing lifestyle of the true procrastinator.

For Secret Santa this year, I was thrilled to receive a box of moustache band-aids. Now, if I ever cut my upper lip in some obscure accident, I’ll have the perfect remedy. I think I look quite dashing with facial hair.

                   

Although peeling them off is no walk in the park. 

I’ve been thinking lately about your admirable decision to become a pescetarian and wondering what I can change about myself to live in a way that is more commensurate with my values. Every day of my liberal arts education, I become more aware of the destructive consequences of unfettered consumerism. A year and a half in, I can no longer pretend that my clothes, my electronics, and my food do not have human and environmental costs.

But with all the problems in the world, it seems impossible not to contribute to them without adopting a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, which I am neither rugged nor insane enough to attempt.

So, how to go about decreasing world-shitiness? A question worth pondering, I think.

Is it better to reduce your footprint by rejecting societal norms and leading a subversive, hippy-esque lifestyle? Or is it better to tacitly support a destructive system in order to become a respected businessman, lawyer, or journalist, at which point you can fight for your cause and others will actually listen?

And then there’s the question of doing something that you actually like--something that makes you happy without decreasing the happiness of countless others.

Or maybe I just need to focus on getting a job and making enough money to sustain myself before I start contemplating such lofty matters.

Hmm.

Jade, let me know if you ever want to run off and become a hippy.

Love,

Cindy