Sprained Ankle

This Saturday was a math-department takes over the Honey extravaganza. As always, when girls get ready to go out, the usual fashion show ensues: we got all dressed up, trying on different tops (Sophie) and dresses (me), we also made Chelsea try on different possible dancing clothes with the slim hope of her joining us (she didn't). So 2-3 outfits later (and 2-3 drinks later), off we went to conquer the town!

The music was good, the dancing was better, and overall we had an incredibly enjoyable night... but then in the morning, I wake up to go to the bathroom, and fall over in pain: I've strained my right ankle. It's huge, and a bit bruised. As the day goes on, it gets bigger and becomes bluer. According to the Internet, I've sustained a Grade 2 sprain. According to the doctor (I went to the school clinic today), I've ripped a major tendon on the right side of my ankle and a few small ones the left side. Prescription? Nope, unfortunately not... just ice, elevation, pressure, you all know the drill. BUT she also said that I needed physiotherapy starting in a week, otherwise I'd be prone to many more sprains as my tendon is now weak. She also asked if I was clumsy... ... ... well I do tend to trip over my own feet, and walk into walls, and fall over the sidewalk, and umm, yeah... definitely clumsy. So then she said that she very strongly recommends physio. I'm going to have to look into whether my insurance covers that or not.

Now I'm walking with a limp, and must wear my ankle brace for another 4 weeks, and no running whatsoever for that time as well... hopefully I'll pick it up again once I can, and experience another one of those runner's highs!!

The Impostor Effect

While doing my bachelor's at Bishop's, I was confident, overall, in my ability to do math. I knew that I wasn't the best, that I might not be able to ever discover anything new or exciting, that "Aki's Theorem" might remain a figment of my overly-ambitious imagination. And granted, from time to time I suffered from what the faculty and I affectionately (I think) referred to as "existential crises", times during which I doubted my math ability and understanding, but they usually passed in a day or two, and only happened about once a semester. The rest of the time, I was quite happily learning, and proving things that I found interesting.

Then, upon arriving at SFU and attending my first few lectures, I truly understood for the first time what complete and utter incomprehension was. (For example, it took me 2 months to realize that there was a difference between the polynomial ring F[x] and it's field of fractions F(x), I just figured that the square and round brackets were interchangeable, which, by the way (for you non-math people) is a disgustingly embarrassing error.)

And, worse than incomprehension, I started to suffer from The Impostor Effect (with capitals). I felt like I shouldn't be here, that I didn't deserve my bachelor's, and that one day everybody would wake up, understand the level of my incomprehension, point their fingers, and banish me. At times, this fear was so great that part of me wished that this would just happen so that I would be able to just give up the farce and leave, lick my wounds in private. Of course, this did not happen, I'm still here, trudging along, keeping my head down, and hoping nobody will notice the imposer among them...

It's not as bad this semester. For one, I'm taking 700-level courses instead of 800-level, which makes a big difference. But still, once in a while (coinciding unsurprisingly enough with days devoted to trying, quite unsuccessfully, to do my assignments), the Imposer Effect returns, and catches me unguarded.

Today is one of those days... I'm working on my second to last assignment for my Galois Theory class (which incidentally is pretty much a prerequisite for the Algebra class I took last term, which effectively killed my math-self-esteem), and it's not going so well. Once again I'm having trouble understanding how the questions asked have anything to do with the material seen in class... and when I do see the link, I still have no clue how to even start trying to prove anything. I'm a firm believer in the importance of a "mickey-mouse-question": when starting an assignment, if you're able to do a question, completely, and in a quite straight-forward way, then it's like a mental tap on the back. I say to myself, "yes, I can do this, I understand something after all", and thinking this, more often than not, will encourage me to try harder to answer the other problems. Of course, when I can't answer anything, then my worry is: "was there a mickey-mouse-question here somewhere that I can't do?? And if there is, how come I can't do it??", which then distracts me from my actual assigned questions.

Well there's my rant on feeling like an imposer, that was a nice break from Math (capitalized also). Now, of course, I have to go back and write something, anything, so that my professors think that I understand something, which is the catch of this whole story: No matter how much I hate feeling like an Imposer, it seems that I fear being discovered too much to give up the whole charade.

Victoria

I'm back home, having spent a lovely and relaxing weekend with my grandmother in Victoria. I'm happy to report a lot of sleep, very little math, lots of scrabble, good food, a successful shopping trip, and a good time. 

Ferry to Victoria: SUN! For the first time in weeks it seems, the sun was really and truly out! No clouds, no fog, no lingering mist... and I spent the whole ferry trip lying outside in the sun, listening to music and daydreaming. The glasses came off, and I imagined that in the hour and a half it takes to get to Swartz Bay, my face would tan and the bags under my eyes would disappear. (Quite unsuccessful, but it was very enjoyable to try!)

At Grandma's: Scrabble galore, we played a total of 4 games, and both of us got to win! I also had a very interesting experience trying to teach her how to use her new cell phone. We ate yummy Japanese food, and had a good time trying to felt my new hat the old-fashioned way. (Success!)

Shopping Trip: In order to prepare for our up-coming trip to Ottawa for Easter, I got to help my grandmother shop of chocolate!! Very fun, especially since I got an ice-cream cone out of the whole business. I'm also very excited to report that I bought myself my first every pair of Birks!! I'm currently wearing them in the office in order to break them in (and show them off, of course!)

Trip home: Having done a total of 0 minutes of math all weekend, I decided to do some on the ferry home (the sun had already set anyway). Then, I was lucky enough to catch all buses quickly and got home before 10pm, which was simply marvelous, and now I have a bit of time to decompress before bed. It's a whole new week tomorrow!

I think I could do this for a living!

So tonight, after a decadent sushi supper (Edamame, Veggie Tempura, and Sashimi to share and then a Deep Fried Scallop Roll that changed by life), Sophie, Chelsea and I went over to my place for a run. They were looking forward to a nice and slow work out, and I was... well... nervous to be running with two people that were so much faster than me. Once we got to my place, we were all a bit tired an unmotivated, the deep fried goodness we just finished eating didn't help. Plus, Sophie was jetlagged, Chelsea had a crossword, and I was/am lazy... But I put on motivating music anyways, got ready (Sophie was very understanding of my construction worker's vest), and off we went!

Since I'm the slowest, I got to set the pace, with Chelsea and Sophie following close behind. Now picture this: I was wearing that vest, baggy pants, a huge sweatshirt, and my trusty headband... whereas Chelsea and Sophie were wearing matching professional looking black pants and high-tech black vests, and as Sophie pointed out during the run, looked like my bodyguards! It was like I was some sort of eccentric celebrity, and they were my loyal companions, which was a fun image, and it kept me upbeat even as they sprinted ahead once in a while in order to not get cold... And I have to admit, that when we were running up that last hill before getting home, and I was ready for my cool down, and they decided raced up the hill, I was impressed! I'm definitely not at their level yet. Still, I'm pleased to report progress, I was able to run our "longer" circuit, without walking (well except for that half a block, in a moment of weakness)!!! And perhaps more importantly, I experienced a runner's high:

There's this simply lovely moment in the middle of a run in which everything seems clear. I'm not too out of breath, I don't have a stitch in my side, my legs aren't tired yet, and I'm not too hot or too cold. My body feels warm and great, my cheeks feel flushed, my breath feels strong and deep, and my mind is so clear. It's incredible! It feels like a high, and for those few moments, I feel like I can do anything. Of course, I'm still running and so I don't really have enough breath to try to share this with Chelsea and Sophie, so all I verbalized was "I think I could do this for a living!" Having run with me before, Chelsea knew this was just a passing inclination, and reassured Sophie that I would go back to complaining in 5 minutes... and sure enough 3 blocks later (which apparently is a lot less than 5 minutes), my left calf started to hurt and I lost my high. But still, I love the feeling, and I'm hoping that with practice I will be able to hold on to it for longer!!!

Pi-Day

Today, for you non-math-inclined folks, is Pi-Day because we are March 14th, also known as 3/14, and Pi = 3.1415926535... (as demonstrated above, I won't go much further than that). 

Anyways, in order to celebrate Pi-Day, I went over to my aunt and uncle's in order to bake pie!! Apple-Cinnamon-Amazingness-Pie... ummm!!! I wasn't too sure about my ability to make dough from scratch, but Eva was quite positive that I could do it. So we put on our aprons, got the flour out, and before I knew it, we were making pie!! I'm very pleased to say that I was successful, well, my pie looks amazing... I haven't baked it yet, but I'm sure that it will taste good too. 

Conclusion: I now can bake pie, it seems that I will soon be able to feed my sugar addiction single-handedly: I no longer need to roam the city in search of pie... I can just make it myself, and by doing so, I don't end up with a single slice of pie, but enough for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Twice over... Yikes!

Mandolin

I just wanted to take a few minutes to announce that I've learnt to play Cripple Creek on my mandolin last week!!! It's an old song, and I had never heard of it before, but it's quite catchy, and I'm not sick of it yet! My repertoire is now: the G, C, D, and F chords, Kumbaya, Here Comes the Sun, Hush Little Baby, and Cripple Creek. Not extremely impressive, since I've owned my instrument since last October, but I'm quite happy since it's all self-taught, with the help of Wikipedia, a book, and some tips from my dad (who plays the guitar), and my friend Cory (who plays the violin). 

Next step: learn how to play the A chord, and find a mandolin teacher... I've felt like I've been on a plateau for a while now, and I'm hoping that a few hours with a professional will help "deblock" my hidden talents...!

Jogging

So yesterday, at my prodding, my friend Chelsea and I decided to try to go for a run. Now, Chelsea has been running quite regularly for over 2 years, and I, well, haven't run further than a block (in order to catch a bus) in, well, forever... and after such a run I'm usually all hot and sweaty, and it seems to take a ridiculous amount of time for my heart to slow to a normal rate. Chelsea assured me that running without a backpack, with appropriate shoes, and at a reasonable pace would be easier than my irregular sprinting. But as I started feeling more confident about my own ability, she went on to mention that after her first few attempts at running, she wanted to die.

Still, we put on motivating music, and I psyched myself by deciding what to wear: Ouareau sweatshirt, jogging pants (that's actually what they are supposed to be for!!), runners I've owned since high school (which, by the way, according to Chelsea and my aunt, are not appropriate footwear for running), a flashy headband, and my construction-worker's vest my mom got me at Christmas (you know, those yellow and orange vests that they wear on the side of the road?). And out we went.

The first difficulty arose when I was too self-conscious to start running, which made me laugh. After a few minutes of giggling (just enough time so that I was already out of breath), I was finally ready to set out. The actual running wasn't as bad as I'd feared it might be, and I think that we were out for about 30 minutes (about half of which was spent with me walking, trying to breathe, and Chelsea running on the spot humming, annoying un-winded). While running my legs were fine, the pain I felt seemed to emanate from my right shoulder, and eased it's way into my neck and down my back. It wasn't until after we had returned that I realized that my legs were tired... but then all of a sudden I was exhausted. I survived the next 2 hours by supreme force of mind, and then fell into bed and passed out at the respectable hour of 10pm on a Friday.

I hope that I will drege up the courage to go run again (the pain in my legs is still bad enough for me to think this was all a crazy dream). And I wonder what sort of hidden meaning I can find to explain my strange right shoulder pain. But still... I don't want to die, so I guess this whole outing was a success!!

Papa's Daiquiri

For a reason that now escapes me, my father decided that he wanted to make Hemingway-style daiquiris on the last night of his visit. The recipe? Mix lemon juice and sugar, lots of sugar, and then add to that some white rum (Havana club if possible, we settled for Appleton's), drop in a few ice cubes, and you're well on your way to making me drunk.

Which is exactly what happened. According to my dad, this drink isn't really that strong, because the alcohol content is of only 35% percent, and ... for some other reasons that were explained to me after I had a couple drinks, so they now escape me as well. But I'm definitely a lighter weight than he imagined I would be.

So for the first time in my 22 years, my dad and Akiko got the privilege of meeting drunk Aki. And not just tipsy Aki who's very happy and likes to dance to music only she can hear. Real drunk Aki who can't walk straight and can't keep her mouth shut, or keep up that lovely thought-speech filter...

But anyways, we had a great last night, and ate some very good Chinese food!

What did I take away from this experience? Well, if drinking with one's parents is a sign of maturity... I passed. But if being able to know when to stop drinking before incapacitating oneself was the test, I've still got some things to learn!

p.s. Papa's Daiquiri was amazing! You most definitely have my blessing to try that at home!

More visitors

Very early this morning, I was woken up by my brother, who come to wake me up for a final goodbye. His flight left at 8am, but I don't have time to miss him just yet... since I now have more visitors! My dad is here, with my step mom, Akiko!! They are visiting on their way back from a three month long stay in Tokyo. Because of the time change, they are experiencing a 41 hour long day, with 6 meals in two different countries!

So I'm off once more, on an adventure to rediscover this city that I'm learning to love so much. With each visit, I get to learn a bit more, see a bit more, from a different angle and opinion. Nobody really sees anything like anybody else does. On each return visit to a favorite place with somebody new, they notice something that I never saw before, and I get to see it too. For example, when walking to Stanley Park along the Northern sea-wall, Akiko decided to look down over the edge to see the ocean, and there were a multitude of starfish! Purple, orange, red ones. I've walked past that spot many times since moving here, but not once did I take the time to look down.

I'm also really enjoying the role of "host". This is the first time that I have my own place, and I'm fortunate enough to have enough room to invite people to stay for a few days. There's something very satisfying with being able to accommodate one's parents in one's own space. Having dad and Akiko here has made me also see my apartment with new eyes, and I'm proud of this space that I can call my own.