Plagiarism

I spent three and a half years at MacEwan, with a year of the University of Alberta in the middle. They both claimed to punish those who plagiarized. For some reason the U of A put the fear of god into me on that topic, more than anything anyone said to me while I was at MacEwan.
I remember staying after class one day to ask my TA if I was going to get in trouble for not citing a source from one of the movies we watched in class (it was a Film and Media Studies class). Boy was I nervous. I was hoping to all hell that they weren't going to kick me out of school for making a small mistake like that. The U made it clear that if they kicked you out, no other self-respecting school would allow you in either. Many of my classmates said that their professors made them submit papers through websites that had databases of papers and would check for plagiarism that way. This, of course, is really scary. What if, by pure chance and probability, you had the same sources as a student from last year? What if he highlighted parts of the book, so you noticed them, and used the same information? Is this plagiarism? Would you get expelled for it? These things seriously worried me. I made myself a system that, if followed precisely, would prevent me from inadvertently plagiarizing off of a website source.
Then, I get back to MacEwan, start a new program, get the ‘Don’t plagiaries’ speech at the start of each class, so I take it seriously. I use my same precautions, be extra careful. Then in my fourth year of post secondary, only a couple classes away from getting a Diploma and getting out of school, I’m in a group with three other people who are not from Canada. Their English is shitty at best. One of them disappears back to Mexico, I think someone died, but who knows. The other two are smart, but really, can’t put a proper English sentence together to save their lives. Obviously I’m in charge of putting the paper together because, well, I have a grasp on the language. So I’m reading, editing, trying to figure out what the hell this girl is trying to say and then magic. A perfect sentence. Not just perfect, extraordinary. Professionally written even. Hmm…. red flag much? So, I copy it into Google, I mean, what other choice do I have? And oh look. There it is.
I send an e-mail to the professor. I mean, I don’t want her kicked out, but I certainly want something done. When I talked to her she didn’t understand the seriousness of the issue, she didn’t care. Really, why should she? She fucks up she goes back to China, the world moves on, ok, no Canadian education, but it’s not like she’s going to integrate properly anyway. She fucked up, I get blamed, I just wasted $35,000, four years, and can’t get any more education because of the huge black mark on my folder. The professor never responded in any way. I don’t know if she ever spoke to the girl. The other students at MacEwan wondered why I was taking it so seriously.
I'm guessing the University makes you believe it because they believe it, while MacEwan just claims they do because they have to.

Rev

I called my bike dealership to get an accessory for my bike... random guy who I'm fairly certain I've never met answered the phone. When he asked my name, and I said Melina, he said "ah", like he had heard of me... like he knew who I was. I mean, yeah, I spent last Friday afternoon there hanging out... and I am going on a road trip with two guys who works there and a guy who is getting a custom bike there... but... seriously? random sales guy has heard of me? It's kind of cool and odd at the same time. I'm a 'regular' there now... apparently.
I mean... yeah, they have awesome customer service like that, whenever I was there any returning customer would be greated as they walked in the door with a yell "Hi Mr Smith, how are you today?" from the sales guys... but with bike number (each Ducati is a different size... not like some styles that have three versions of the 600, Ducati has a 620, 695 and 696) and name, he knew who I was.

Weight of the World

There's these events in ones lives that feel like they contain the weight of the world. These can be big or little, seemingly important or irrelevant, but, for the person involved, they carry weight. I just went through one of these events.
If you know me, you know I hated my job, simple as that. I complained about it. A lot. I apologize to anyone who hated my complaining. So, be happy. Today was my last day at that job, YAY. To celebrate we're making a fire and having alcohol. It will be grand. I even bought Off so we don't get eaten alive.
The other weight on my shoulders was that of choosing a new job. I got two offers, both of which seemed quite interesting and it took me a week of deliberation and discussion to figure out which one will be better for me in the long run. Many qualities were similar and yet different, and both could lead to great things, in different ways. I am confident that I chose the right one. Now I get a week off, so, let the events begin. First, fire, then bar, then another bar, then passport office, then... well, I don't know. I guess there's a hostel in Banff that I could visit, or my friend in Saskatchewan who I have not seen in almost a year. Of course, there's also the house to clean and organize now that I've decided to stay here for a while still. And, professional clothes to buy. I'll be working downtown, so I have to look the part.

Dilema

Since I moved to Calgary I have been casually applying to Human Resource Positions. In the past few months I made the decision to not continue with my current job and to seek a new one. Somehow I managed to get three interviews in a week when I had not had a single call (good) about my resume in the previous three months. Calls from Primerica do not count, they call everyone.
I had three interviews, Saturday, Monday and today, Thursday.
Saturday offered me a job on the spot, with job shadowing on Wednesday. On Thursday they called and offered me the position on a trial basis, with a permanent contract soon to follow.
Monday sent a set of tests to complete and reminded me on Thursday that I should do them. To me, this shows a lot of interest.
Thursday told me that they were only going to call the front runner for references, and shortly after 4pm, called me for references.

Which do I want?
Monday is out because it's lower level duties and lower level pay. Done.
Saturday is interesting, and has definite growth potential, should be pretty good pay and deals with helping people and is interesting, but has shitty unstable hours.
Thursday is exactly what I've wanted to do since I took the class that pertains to it and should have pretty good pay, but could be boring and repetitive in the long run.

Body Type

Each type of person in my life tends to have a similar body type. My aunts are all short and a few extra pounds (good to know what I have to look forward to), my cousins are taller than the rest of the ladies in my family and mostly skinny, and my boyfriends tend to be large, solid guys. They're short or tall, but always solid. This makes me feel safe and protected. So, what happens when you meet someone by asking a seemingly harmless question, "What kind of motorbike do you ride?", without screening based on body type and other stated attributes? I had no intentions when I started this conversation, just saw a guy sitting on a bike that I couldn't place and wondered which bike it was.
Turns out that we have a lot in common and thoroughly enjoy each other’s company. He took me on my first motorcycle ride out of the city, we went to Bragg Creek and down Highway 66. It's absolutely gorgeous, and full of turns. It just feels weird giving him a hug because it's so out of the norm. Of course, it's not a big deal, it's not really worth mentioning, but, here I am, writing a post about it.
Have you ever put someone in a category, but then have them not fit the mold? Does it not throw you off? It's not going to change anything, but it will take some getting used to. On the plus side, he's much stronger than he looks.

Chivalry is dead?

On my way in and out of the building today I had to travel through a total of eight doors. I managed to open less than half of them, one of them I caught and just held open. Into the building (2), into secure area, out of secure area, into stairs, out of stairs and out of the building (2). On the way in, I was walking with two male officers, so, the first door was opened for me. The second door I had to literally fight with the guy to let me hold it open for him. Security door was all mine. Leaving this afternoon an Inspector was coming the other way. Now, Inspectors are very important people, i don't remember the exact statistics, but I'm pretty sure there aren't more than 200 of them in Canada. This guy, who I had heard rumour that he was smart and nice, opened the door, saw me, stepped back and waited for me to come the three meters to the door. As I was walking towards him he commented on how nice of a day it was outside, that the work day was gratefully almost over and wished me a good evening. I, of course, thanked him for the door and also wished him a good evening. Into the stairs was mine, but as I was about a quarter way down the first flight (two flights per floor) of stairs, I heard the second level door open (I'm on the third) and close. This is normally a large enough distance for the person ahead to quickly leave, assuming they are traveling at an equal or faster rate than the person behind them. I knew this guy, and I was traveling a little faster than him, but he was still a good flight ahead of me when he reached the main level door. This one was opened for me, as was the first one out of the building. the second one out of the building I held open for him, as is my custom. I commented on the door openings of the day and he responded with a quip that gentlemen still exist. We then continued with small talk based on the gorgeous weather (Oh Sun, how I have missed thee), wished each other good evenings and went on our merry ways.

However, his comment about there still being gentlemen got me thinking.
How often do guys hold open doors? It depends on the relationship, obviously, but even then. If he's trying to impress you, of course. Just going back, I think most guys who were nice to me in general have opened the door for me. They have also fought with me when I tried to hold open the second door for them.
How many girls expect their man, or any man to hold open the door, let them into and out of the elevator first? In my building, it happens all the time, I can't remember when a guy has stepped out before me, but, is this necessary? Sure, it's sometimes nice to be treated like a princess, but weren't we fighting for equality? Burning of the bra's and all that?

I guess it comes down to context and relationship, but guys, really. If I hold open a door for you, just say thanks and walk through. Don't fight it. I won't give in.

What to do?

Alright, so, it has been FOREVER since I've written regularly, I know, I know.
Things change, like, the formating of this blog... It changed and I don't know how to get it back. Alright, so that's a minor thing, even though I do miss it.
Change 1 - I moved out. Ok, so I moved to Calgary in January with a friend, things were going ok, but there was something wrong. I just wasn't happy in that place. So, I moved. It has been stressful and all that jazz, but it was for the better.
Change 2 - I gave up on waiting for my job to come through and started applying for new ones. Yes, there is a very good chance that I will get my current job as a permanent person, but then, one has to wonder, do I really want that job? The answer is... well, not really. Those who talk to me know, I complain about it all the time. I'm bored all the time, and it's really not challenging at all. I already streamlined it as much as they would let me.
Change 3 - I'm single. Yeah, I've been on and off again single for a while now, but now I'm putting in the effort, getting out there, meeting guys, going on dates, will be going for rides on the new bike with new people (once I finally get my bike fixed)

Part of Change 3, I'm never buying a used vehicle again. They cause too much trouble. New for me. I know people sell for a reason, usually because they know that the thing is going to explode in 200kms, and now I'm going to take that to heart and stop buying used stuff. Sure, every so often there's a good deal out there, but if it's too good, it's probably bad. I have heard about the purchase of 6 used vehicles in the last 6 months, one of them has not caused problems. Lesson learned, no used vehicles. Don't get me wrong, I love my Ducati, I could just do without the hole in the engine, and the shitty transmission.

Also, I have a new Blog on my Blogroll, Missed Manners, I've been reading it while at work, and it's really quite interesting. He has been writing fairly consistently for 4 years now. Someday I would like my blog to be like his or V's... just gotta work on the consistency and interesting topics bits of writing.