Music is my great grand daughter

It seems that when there is a lull in my traveling that there is a lull in my blogging. However, this doesn't mean that my everyday life is disgustingly boring. No no, quite the contrary, just as many interesting things happen in the everyday in Geneva. But I generally find it hard to put it all down on paper (well...electronically) and in words because how often does your day to day mundane activities actually excite you to the point of wanting to sharing it with the internet world?

Though I guess the notion of 'mundane activities' is somewhat subjective...and I don't find my life mundane.
Why did I pick that word?

Certainly the past couple of weeks have been anything but...

[note - the vast majority of my blog entries get their titles from songs that I think suit the content. This blog is a series of short anecdotes about the past week and a half, hence the playlist. Each anecdote and story has a different song title and relevant lyric to open it]

GUERNICA - Brand New
"Nobody plans to be half a world away at times like these / so I sat alone and waited out the night."

As most people who read my blog already know (and I hope my mom doesn't get upset with me for sharing this on the interweb - though I will say, that anyone reading this probably already knows and I can take it down if it pisses you off ma) last Saturday my parents called me to inform me that my mom - who had been sent home early from her vacation in Florida due to a 'liver infection - had in fact been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. You know, the scary C word that no one wants to hear. The scary C word accompanied with the word 'pancreatic' well, my friends, its all mildly horrifying and I freaked out Dana style - panic attack with a bout of vomiting. I won't get into the details of how I spent that first 24 hours trying to wrap my head around the fact that my mom had cancer. I mean, for the most part, you always hear of that persons mom having cancer, and that persons dad surviving it, etc etc. Its never your parents - your parents are a pillar of health (you know minus the vericose veins, arthritis, etc etc) and it always happens to everyone but you and your parents. Until it does. And it shakes you.

I spent 24 hours being scared out of my mind, not really knowing too many details, not wanting to research it anymore than I did for that brief moment on wikipedia, just sitting around feeling doom and gloom with that depressing bell jar hanging over my head. Both Gilberto and Steph had gone away for the weekend, so I spent that time sitting alone, not ever speaking to anyone face to face about it, never getting the hug I really wanted, just kind of floating around Geneva while it rained. Stupid Geneva winters. At some point, though, and probably after a conversation with Caroline who promptly told me to stop whining like an idiot and stop freaking out because it wasn't helping anyone and my mom deserved a hell of a lot more than me acting like a wuss (in much nicer words, of course) I figured that if ever there was a time to prove myself to be strong as I thought I was, now was it. I mean, here is my mom dealing with something huge and all I can do is sit around and be weary and scared while she had to comfort me and tell me 'have your little cry now but you can't freak out on me like this, you need to be strong, i need that'. How the hell was I helping by moping around Geneva? How the hell was that going to make anyone feel better? So, Sunday morning, I sat on the edge of my bed, and had a conversation with the Big N. I told her I was scared, but that I thought mom was strong, and that she would be ok. I told her that everyone was scared, and that you know, I wasn't asking for a miracle cure, but that I needed the Big N to make us strong. To help us get through it - whatever IT was or was going to be. We needed courage, and strength, and optimism, and laughter - and I figured if anyone knew how to give it to us, it would have been Nonnie. So I spoke to her, and told her I needed to get over myself, that I needed to believe my mom was going to be ok, and that I did believe it. I told her about my conversation with Caroline, and how I told Caroline to send my mom positive vibes. I told her I thought Caroline might send pot because she's a hippy and thats what positive vibes means to hippies. I think Nonnie got mad at me for that but when I shared it with my mom, she got a good laugh and I finally figured out my place in all this.

The week that followed was stressful, but filled with efforts to keep it light. My mom was able to get all her necessary tests scheduled within the week and we were left playing the waiting game - hoping that test results would show the cancer was treatable, operable, etc. It was interesting, because at times I would be absolutely fine, not a care in the world, laughing and joking as always. And suddenly, at unexpected times, I would get a jolt of nervous energy - both my legs bouncing, tapping at my keyboard, desperate to hear something. I woke up one morning, and looked down to see both my feet twitching wildly, that bout of nervous energy just coursing through me and I hadn't even pulled the comforter off yet. I probably called home more that week than I have the entire time I've been here. My mom, however, whether she was scared or worried or nervous or sick, she didn't show it. There is something about moms that just amazes me. HERE SHE IS, the one who all this worry and stress is for, and SHE'S the pillar of strength and comfort. She's still kissing the webcam like she did way back in September when she first realized she could see me from Switzerland in all my pixelated glory. How the hell does someone do that? Man I'm such a drama queen I don't think I'll ever be that selfless, never have that strength. My Dad too. Here's his life partner facing some pretty important tests, and he's sitting there beside my mom on the webcam laughing at us and calling us weird. How do these people provide comfort and ease to someone A TRILLION MILES AWAY when the entire situation is AT THEIR FEET, its fucking palpable, its RIGHT THERE INFRONT OF THEM, and their sitting around making jokes about field trips to the hospital and telling ME not to worry. Parents! What a crazy breed!

Anyways, Thursday, towards the end of the workday, I got a skype call from my Dad. The camera on his end was discombobulated as always, and while we couldn't make out each other's words perfectly(we sounded like robots), he turned the camera a bit and I could see my mom peering into my computer screen crying. I freaked out Dana style - inside my head, stomach threatening to release all its contents. And then I hear them speak. And then I hear them tell me that they caught the cancer at the earliest possible stage. It is operable, it is treatable. I was told by a fellow co worker who, worried about what the news would be, researched it the night before, that the news was a miracle - amazing. I sent out emails, msn messages, excitement abounded - I told everyone, keep the positive vibes coming.
Keep them coming.
Keep them coming.
and thank you and thank you
And again, we wait.

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RIDE A WHITE HORSE - Goldfrapp
"now take me dancing, at the disco"

My secret dream of being a DJ isn't really a secret. I pretty much tell everyone who I have more than three conversations with, and by that point in our relationship I've probably tried to make you listen to this song or that band etc. Heck if you're reading this blog then I've done that to you in such a sneaky way (the song that plays when you arrive on the blog, the songs that play in my home-video blogs, this blog with the 'chapter names' aka my lame attempt to suggest more and more music). I think the thing of it is, I really enjoy music, but I should preface this all to say, that I am not that musically inclined or knowledgable. I know nothing of music pre 1980's - and to be honest, the 80's themselves sometimes have me in a bind. I can't read music notes and know nothing of how a song is constructed, other than understanding - vaguely - what the chorus is. I have failed every attempt to learn guitar. I can't beat match, I can't strum by ear, and I'm pretty sure I'm tone deaf. Genres confuse me. I am about as music illiterate as they come. But I like to share, because there is something just in this practice of sharing music that is fun and interesting and powerful and entertaining. To share that experience, to know that while you may interpret or enjoy a song in one way, someone else might enjoy or interpret a different way - but at the end of the day you're both experiencing something through a great piece of music. So I guess the whole 'I want to be a DJ' thing comes from that desire to share music and to share it in away that others would probably (hopefully) enjoy it.

Anyways, the purpose of all this banter about music has to do with a conversation I had with Thabo a little over two weeks ago while on the bus. I asked Thabo what his plans were for the weekend, and he told me that one of his hobbies was djaying and that he was going to get some vinyl. I think my eyes fell out of my head and my jaw dropped to the bus floor - and it never got picked up, it stayed there the entire time while I asked about 50 questions in one breath: do you spin or mix, do you scratch, what kind of music do you play, what kind of house do you play, where do you play, where is your system, where do you buy vinyl - and most importantly - CAN YOU TEACH ME. Thabo seemed pretty happy to discuss djaying as its something that he's been doing for ages, something that he's getting back into, something that is dear to his heart. He also agreed to give me lessons.

The next Friday we made plans for me to stop by his apartment to get spinning lessons. However, when I called him later that night he told me that he had actually gotten a time at Ethno (ethnio? etno? im not sure) bar (a bar steph went to the week before and told me I would love and absolutely had to check out). So instead of getting lessons, I went to go watch the master at work. Unfortunately, because Steph was leaving for Edinburgh the next day we didn't get to stay long, but watching Thabo spin for the brief period of time that we did certainly did boos my excitement and expectations for my (hopefully) eventual spin lessons. Look out, peoples, DJ Walter is coming soon!

DJ T BOSS (aka Thabo!)

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HOP A PLANE - Tegan and Sara
"I took the train back, back to where I came from"

Well, Sasha is number....7 on the list of people who have left Geneva in the few months I've been here. Although technically speaking, at the time of writing this, Sasha is still in Geneva and won't be leaving for South Africa until tomorrow morning. Either way, people coming and going is something I've been told you must get used to when living in Geneva - I mean, the city is made up of International students and interns. And its kind of interesting to get used to. To meet really neat people and get along well with them, to only have them take off and leave after only a few short months. Its always ...well..annoying to see people leave, especially when you're left with the question of 'when or will i see you again?'. And I guess it just makes me consider that notion of mine - not to say goodbye to people, because whether or not you see them again isn't the issue - its making sure that the experiences you shared aren't lost. so say see you later - goodbye really shouldn't exist for people you care about.

Anyways while tonight is Sasha's good bye drinks, this weekend we had goodbye cakes at Jean's. And hell, you never had cakes until you had cakes at Jeans. And for all you reading this who may never have the chance to experience cakes at Jeans, I will wear black for a week to mourn your loss.

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MEMORIZE THE CITY - The Organ "I walked through the streets, and memorized the city, I count every light until I reached the shore"



I took this panorama while walking through the streets of Geneva one night with Steph. We decided to skip French class (I've pretty much decided to skip French class until the new year - and whether I return is another thing) and go to dinner at Banana Leaf (the cheap thai place). Because red / green curry wasn't on the plat du jour, we decided to try other things - I got some kind of malasian dish which was supposed to be spicy but wasn't - just really thick. And Steph got sweet and sour chicken...I think. All unimportant. We were full when we finished and thus decided to walk home because we had seen some interesting lights on the 'island' (and island in the middle of the river which you can walk up on). The strange boxy light things turned out to be holding plants in them. As we wandered around this general area we came accross an outdoor rink, and excitedly we decided to go skating - even though the place was only open for another 40 minutes. We payed around 7 francs for our skate rental, which was a few francs more than we paid at the indoor rink. And you think that for paying more money you'd get better quality skates.
But thats wrong.
This place only had one type of skate - some weird boys figure skates - and their sizes were messed up - and they didn't hang on to your shoes for you, so if they got stolen, then too bad your loss. Anyways it was pretty ridiculous as my skates were too small and Stephs skates were too big and we stopped every half way lap around the rink because we were either going to wipe out or because our feet were threatening to fall off and leave us forever. We didn't stay the entire forty minutes to say the least, but hey - at least we got a small story out of it.
I then convinced Steph to come back to the foyer with me so I could get my camera. And then I took this photo.

We returned to the outdoor skating rink again on Saturday night because it was World AIDS Day and we participated in the march that was being held (we caught up to the marchers late, while they were passing the skating rink). It wasn't a long march but it had a pretty good turn out and offered us free hot wine afterwards. We then all went to the soiree afterwards where I mistakenly ate some kind of sushi and nearly barfed all over myself. I've been thinking a lot about what I would like to do after my internship, and while I know that I will probably go towards the communications and multimedia feild, I can't help but think that maybe I would really like to continue working for an NGO's. I think I need to narrow my thoughts on what specific type of NGO I would enter.. When I was considering law, you know, way back when - when I thought I was smart enough to be a lawyer and that all you needed to be good at was delivery speeches - I always thought I would go into family law. So ... I dunno. Its interesting being this age and having to figure out where your fit is. Constantly needing to narrow down, get specific. I've always wanted to do everything, I always worry about leaving something out. Being happy that I'm here but worrying about what I'm missing. Its interesting, you know.... being me.

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Well, I guess I have a lot of other little stories to divulge here and there, and maybe I can make my blog less threatening to read by writing them down more often, as they happen rather than trying to spew it all out in one massive short non-fiction novel. And I'll try to do that... you know...break it down.

Until then, here are some other things to mention:

* I had another photo featured on CBCRadio3 which was terrific!
* Steph, Harold and I attended a really awkward Advent dinner at the foyer, it was awkward because there weren't very many people there and well...it was just generally strange
* I had signed up for laundry about three times until I finally got to do some last night, however, the night I finally get to do laundry is the night the machine decides to conk out and not go through the rinse cycle. Meaning I had to reach into a pool of dirty water to fish out my socks and my clothes are still dripping and smell even worse than when I put them in the damn machine!
* I rediscovered ebay upon getting some updated credit card info, and bought, and recieved, an old school casio digital watch. Most people get excited by the fact that I'm wearing something 15 years old and that they (or their dad) used to own. Some people flat out tell me they don't like it because its not cute (although my excitement about it, is)