We Lost, but that was Fun, too.

Tonight I went to the first intramural indoor soccer game of the semester. And my first intramural anything game. Ever. And the first time I can recall that I've been inside a huge air-supported, heated dome. We played in a virtual bubble. Maybe a real bubble, at that.

Originally, I'd signed up for the recreational level of play, thinking that five years of not-playing is long enough that I might look a tad foolish out there. However, it looks as though we got dumped into the intermediate level, probably because there weren't enough women who signed up to play indoor soccer (the men have four teams).

The important part is that I played soccer for the first time in five years. I discovered it's kind of like riding a bike. Before I realized it, I was calling "man on" and "time" and all those other phrases used in soccer (or am I out of date? I don't know...), and remembering not to reach (that one took a few mistakes to re-learn, in fact). I also found out how out of shape I really am, when I got all out of breath after a few minutes' play. It's kind of comforting, and gratifying, to realize that I haven't lost all skill, just familiarity.

As I started playing, all my memories of five years ago and the last time I'd played five-on-five on fake turf suddenly crowded up to the front of my mind, and the time faded away like I'd just played last week. For a moment or three, I really felt like I was back in undergrad, playing on one of the three outdoor mini-fields on Tuesday evenings, which were our "optional" practices (in fact, I rarely went). Wearing layers against the cold, running across other playing fields to get the out-of-bounds balls, smelling of turf and wind and sweat, walking back through the gym and climbing in my window so I wouldn't have to walk all the way 'round to the front door. It felt odd, though that's a bit of an understatement.

Now if only I could attach muscle memory to the remaining Italian in my brain, maybe I could re-learn that just as quickly...

Notes on Libraries

Recently, I started volunteering at one of the university's public libraries, in Hart House. A little confusing, that description: to clarify, it's a university-affiliated library that is open to the public.

Two hours a week isn't much time, but I have already remembered how soothing re-shelving, straightening, and re-organizing books can be. In addition, the library itself (atmosphere, architecture, temperature) helps refresh my attitude and de-stress. For those who have never been, this is where I volunteer:

I've just realized I never put up an image of where I had class last semester - another beautiful library at U of T. Belatedly, here's an image of the Fisher: 

To get back to this library, it's kind of a hidden spot where many come to nap, study and read. 

I wouldn't want you to think that all library work is re-shelving, organizing and straightening, though. I've been given several projects that are much more interesting, if not as relaxing. I've the opportunity to practice my newly-learned cataloging skills, and to work with rare books (determining whether or not they're rare, and if so, deaccessioning them and sending them to the Fisher above. It's all very exciting. 

I just spent a half an hour reading a section of a book I never would have picked up, had it not been waiting for classification and cataloging, and which I fully intend to investigate further. Enter contentment.

Burns Night Supper

To sum up the last few weeks, I've been getting back into the swing of grad school, and avoiding reading, studying and writing. They haven't been very productive weeks...

But that's not what this post is about. This is another post about the wonderful people of the St Andrews Alumni Club in Toronto. And Robbie Burns Night.

Last night was Robbie Burns night. And the first time I'd celebrated the "holiday" since I was a young, impressionable first-year at university. At the time, I had no idea what I was getting into, when I was volunteered to stab the haggis after the reading of "Address to a Haggis." Last night, one of the alumni demonstrated the talent it takes to do it properly. A friend of mine has a video - I'll see if I can't get him to send it to me so I can add it later.

The haggis was delicious, the neeps and tatties, too; the company delightful, and the AGM short and witty. I somewhat rashly volunteered to help prepare for a high-profile dinner and event happening in March. This should light a fire under me to get started and finished with my work, but I've a feeling the influence of the cold, snowy winter weather is just too strong...

Speaking of which, I should get back to it. (Work, that is, not winter.)

Happy New Year!! And a "Suspicious Incident."

I had the most adrenaline-inducing trip home tonight, between 2-3am.

Actually, before I get to that... Happy New Year! Auld Lang Syne and all that. Bring it on, 2011. Also, I had a really nice time at the dinner party put on by a friend and her family. Cheers!

Back to the scheduled programming. I hitched a ride in the Hall family taxi to the metro, and had approximately 15 stops on the subway (Thank you, TTC, for free and almost-all-night subway rides on Dec 31/Jan 1!). That part was easy. Uneventful, aside from the leftover, pungent evidence that some people had been having too much fun tonight. Yuck.

Then I got off the metro, and the short version is, had to deal with a strange, totally dodgy man following me home. I did the whole cross-the-street thing, the "back off" thing, but didn't get very far before I decided to turn around and walk back to the subway station, where the supervisor had someone else at the TTC call the cops. Then I waited.

Then the third-party TTC person arrived, and the cops almost immediately afterwards. And the very kind police officers gave me an escort all the way to my house. Actually, that makes the first time I've ever been in a police car. A very heartfelt thanks to the Toronto Police Service.

There's nothing like actually experiencing something like this to drive home the importance of knowing how to be safe. Most importantly, finding a place with bright lights, lots of people, and someone who can help.