Recap!

As the title suggests, this is a recap post before the Two Week Break,* and as such there won't be much new here. What there will be, however, is plenty of recappery, beginning now!


Iceland

What is there for me to say about Iceland. This is attempt two, electric boogaloo, for me in Iceland. The debacle that was attempt one was just that, a debacle, and left a (temporary) bad taste in my mouth. Fortunately, the mouthwash of time has ejected the ashen bitterness of defeat like a minty-fresh doorman hurling a sour-mouthed belligerent from a pub, and replaced it with the rich, buttery complexities of victory!

I truly do enjoy being here; yes, the bureaucracy can be a bit...opaque at times,** and most things are horrifically expensive compared to home,*** but these are not deal-breakers. Far from it, in fact. Perhaps because I am from Ontario, I am more used to dealing with layers upon layers of contradictory bureaucracy than the Yanks or even Andrew. Navigating through the stream of Official Offices can be a chore at times, but once I realized that it was essentially the same as back home, things have clicked.

The countryside, as you may have surmised by my excessive amount of photo-dumping after each field trip we take, has captivated me. Coming from, and living in, industrial cities for the vast majority of my life has certainly given me an appreciation for nature, odd as that may seem, and Iceland delivers that in spades. There's something about the starkness and absolute desolation of the Interior that, when combined with the majesty and grandeur of the mountains, the raw power of the ocean, the freshness of the air, and my (clearly evident) penchant for hyperbolic romanticism, makes me feel constantly in awe.

The city itself is also great. It's absolutely an international place - on any given day, you can hear at least a half-dozen languages other than Icelandic or English being spoken - and at the same time has the sort of clannishness and neighbourhood charm that makes every place feel like home. It's like being a kid again; I might not know the names of everyone in the neighbourhood, but I recognize them, they recognize me - a feat which, I will admit, is not difficult for them to do, as a man so striking**** as myself is hard to forget - and that fact makes me feel a kinship to this place.

The architecture (of which I have taken regrettably few photos, but that will be remedied after the Two Week Break) is also a major feature of the city for me, at least aesthetically. Those of you who know me well know that I'm rather "function over form" in my outlook to most things, but I do appreciate beautiful things. The juxtaposition of 1920s-style stucco-fronted row houses, late-80s glass and steel office buildings, constructivist public facilities, and the few rare neoclassical manors is, at first glance, chaotic, but it has an odd sort of symmetry to it. And then there's Harpa. It's a strange looking building, but there's something about it that draws the eye. It looks something that William Gibson or Katsuhiro Otomo would have peppered throughout their late-80's take on the year 2015, like an monument to a future that would never exist. When I go walkabout after classes, more often than not I find myself down by the harbour just to look at the building, especially at night when each panel of glass is illuminated and timed to create a shimmering effect. It is one of the most beautiful buildings I've ever seen, but that could be as much a commentary on my pining for a late-80s futurist aesthetic as a commentary on the objective beauty of the architecture itself.


The MA experience

This is the reason I came to Iceland and, as such, one would assume that I'd have the most to say about it. That's apparently not the case, however, as I've been racking my brain for the last thirty minutes trying to figure out what exactly I can say about the program. It's been a fantastic experience, no doubt, and the access to scholarship - plus the sheer amount of the stuff! - dwarfs the access and amount I got at Brock, at least insofar as my particular area of interest is concerned. I've had a good time of my courses, for the most part, as well; the historical survey course went exceptionally well for me - I wound up with a 9.0/10 for the course - and the literary survey was entertaining as well; the only area of concern for me is, unsurprisingly, my Old Norse/Old Icelandic class. I could make excuses, but that's all they'd be - the fact of the matter is that I need to work harder at understanding the underpinnings of the grammar in order to succeed.

A very good point was made in our end-of-term meeting for the class; when we've all got our PhDs and are struggling to make ends meet as professors, our ability to teach Old Norse will likely set us apart from everyone else in the department. Thus, this is a job-security thing, and not merely an academic qualification thing. That in and of itself is motivation enough for me to do my damnedest to get this stuff down.

Next semester's coursework looks to be promising as well - Paleography, Old Norse/Old Icelandic II, and Mythology are all on the slate, plus a one-week seminar on the Viking Mind at the beginning of the new year, taught by Neil Price. That's another thing about the university; I've had the opportunity to meet with absurdly famous***** professors in the course of the first semester, including Rory McTurk and Margaret Cormack. For those of you who aren't into medieval Scandinavian history, that's like meeting Bobby Orr and Brett Hull. For those of you who aren't into hockey, I'm not making a second analogy. Suffice it to say that they're both phenomenal scholars, and it was slightly surreal to just hang out and chat with them over coffee.


The People

This brings me to discussing the people I've met here. My first impression of my classmates has remained fairly consistent this far into the term. Living with four of them - Sarah, Paul, Ryder, and David - has been a not unpleasant experience, and hanging out with them has been great as well. We've developed a bit of a cabal - Paul, David, Ryder, Ásdís, Bond, Carline, and I, with Miriam, Sarah, and Elias being frequent guest-stars - and frequent a pub which allows smoking indoors when we're not poring over books or frantically typing essays due the next morning. Good foundations for long-lasting friendships, I'd say.

The professors have been awesome as well; the MISanthropes have been invited to end-of-term parties at their houses, and we've had weekly jaw-sessions with other profs. Everyone is accessible and willing to talk about concerns with classes, projects, and life in general. Exceptionally supportive, too.

The non-university-related people I've met, too, have been awesome. Hana, her fella Pálli, her roommate Siobhan, and their friend Erika are all awesome people as well; many a night has been spent in their presence, shooting the breeze, drinking, and - on one memorable occasion - flexing my mighty Trivial Pursuit muscles to the point where the next meeting promises be a 4-against-me battle. One which I don't intend on losing, either.

Unfortunately, four of our number have either left already or have announced their imminent departure from Iceland; Carline has returned to Norway, wherein she will resume doing dream-related things pertaining to her MA; Erika also returned to Norway, where she is, I assume, doing more diving-related things; Rouan is taking a year off after this semester, and returning to New Zealand; and Erin is returning to Sweden to finish her MA on historical matters both political and military.


The End...?

And with that, I conclude my recap of the first third of my Icelandic Adventure. Barring any major events, this station will now go off-air until the new year. In the event that nothing major occurs, I wish you all a merry merry and a happy happy, and I shall return in the year 2012!


*Which I have decided needs to be capitalized and, as such, is now a holiday akin to Jimmas as far as I'm concerned.
**By way of example, Paul and I spent forty minutes getting to the welfare office to get a letter that says we'd never been to the welfare office, so that we could renew our Student Permits.
***In all fairness, almost everything here is shipped in. Overhead costs get passed on to the consumer. Such is life.
****And by 'striking,' I don't mean to imply 'handsome.' I mean to imply 'heroically proportioned and profoundly hirsute .'
*****Famous in that I've used several of them as sources for my BA thesis and the essays I've handed in during my academic career.

So, I've been remiss

And I did not update on Sunday like I said I would. Inexcusable, I know, as those of you who are, for some reason, still reading this blag look forward to these. Many forgivenesses, please.

Anyway, what've I been up to? Not much, really. It's been fairly quiet around Reykjavik, what with the snow suddenly coming around and all. Oh, by the way, we got snow! Like, to the point where Paul and I ran outside into it, made a pagan snow idol - which I dubbed Snowy Snjó-reðr, but Paul calls Snævar Freyr - and then had a snowball fight with Paul and David. Good times.

Also, on Friday, the regular cast of MISanthropes (Andrew, Ásdís, Bond, Liv, Paul, Ryder, Sarah, and I) went to Viðar's place for a few celebratory drinks, what with us being done the year. Good times were had by all; Viðar has fantastic taste in scotch (he had Highland Park, Ardbeg, Talisker, and proper Laphroaig 10 year - not that Quarter-Cask crap - among others), and Bond got his first taste of proper winter. Which involved me pointing out he was walking on a relatively thin layer of ice over some sort of frozen pond. And seeing holiday lighting alongside snow, the first real packing snow he's ever seen (!!!!)

All in all, good times.

Other than the fact that my computer crashed hard last night and I lost six pages of essay that was due today. Fortunately, I managed to mostly get them back and put out what I think was a fair decent paper on the way that the laws of medieval Iceland reflected the prevalent honour culture.

And now, exams! One on Monday, one on the 15th, and then I head back to Canada for two weeks (wherein this blag shall likely be inactive, but who knows?)

Oh, and one more thing. I applied for an MPhil at Cambridge. Yes, that Cambridge. Editing my writing sample for it come the morning.

Warning! Incoming Photo-dump! Warning! Incoming Photo-dump!

So, big photo-dump coming up, ladies and gents. We (Ryder, Paul, David, Myriam, Barbara, Bond, Andrew, Göngu-Jonas,* and I) went to Þórsmörk yesterday. It was absolutely stunning. And, keeping with tradition, I managed to injure myself while helping a fellow Þórsmörk-goer cross a fairly fast-moving glacial stream. The sudden onset of an absurd amount of discomfort whenever I step with my left foot has caused me to ingest Tylenol 3s to the point where getting around anywhere other than my desk, my bed or my chair seems like a ridiculous plan, but my ankle is no longer sore. Thus you get an earlier update than normal!

Before the photo-dump, though, I figure I should let you people know what's new. I'm applying for a second MA at the University of Toronto. And an MPhil. at Cambridge. Yes, that Cambridge. The forms just need to be submitted by 3 December for Cambridge (which entails me writing and submitting a paper for Torfi very shortly and finagling a .pdf copy of my transcripts from Brock) and 15 January for UofT. So that's cool.

I also have a paper due for Viðar on Monday. And I need to finish off editing my writing sample for both applications. And I have an exam on the 5th of December. So things are gonna be a touch hectic.

Anyway, time for what you people came here for! As there are around 50 or so photos, I've put them below a jump. Breaking from tradition, I've decided to only caption a few of these, but you can make up your own commentary, or feel free to ask me in the comments section.

There's no witty title for this one. Sorry.

So, lots of things to show and tell you people since last I updated (I know, I know, it's been far too long since I've last done so).

First, the telling.

I got my first MA paper back last week, and I was pleasantly surprised - an 8.0/10, which puts me tied for sixth in the course, marks-wise. Not that I'm competitive or anything like that.* This is good news for me, as it greatly boosts my academic confidence, especially in this post-Old Iceland midterm environment.

Also, Ásdís and I handled our discussion leadership on Sigurður Nordal's Icelandic Culture fairly well, I think, so things are looking up for my mark in Viðar's Medieval North class. Assuming I don't self-destruct through a combination of hubristic arrogance and overconfidence on this second paper, of course.**

The past week or so has been relatively uneventful, save for the 'David trying to get us killed' incident detailed earlier. Speaking of that, by the way, those kids have been apparently bird-dogging Paul ever since. I saw them on Wednesday evening, while chatting with Ren on the phone, and the whole group of them just moseyed on by; The leader of their ever-increasing gang of ne'er-do-wells was, no doubt, intimidated beyond reason by the majesty of my handlebar moustache.

I also got my hands on some moustache wax and have grown what is possibly the finest handlebar moustache mankind has ever seen. Much to the chagrin of Emily and most of the women in Iceland, apparently. Ah, well, c'est la vie, non?

Last Sunday, Ryder, Paul, Sarah, Bond, Miriam and I went to the Saga Museum, and it was very cool - short, unfortunately, but loaded with wax figures - some of whom were animatronic and were nearly punched when they twitched in my unsuspecting direction!

Today, we went to Njála country, which was beautiful land, if you like that stark, almost barren quality most of Iceland possesses. Fortunately, I do like that quality, and I quite enjoyed it. Even the mountain which defeated Paul, Bettina, and I was beautiful, if cruelly punishing on my old and out-of-shape joints. We also went to the Njála museum, which was pretty cool.

This Sunday, we head to Þórsmörk and get to see Eyjafjallajökull, Ren's old nemesis.*** There will be photos uploaded of that, as well.

Now, I did promise not only telling, but showing as well, so showing there shall be! Below, of course, an appropriately placed jump.

Adventure! Excitement! Jedi might not crave these, but Vikings certainly do...

...and last night delivered!

This is going to be a very brief update, but the events of last night were too awesome to sit on until the next update (which should be, if my once-a-week update schedule is maintained, on Thursday or Friday).

Last night, David, Ryder, Paul, Carline, Carline's boyfriend, Barbara, Sarah, Miriam, and I went to see Skálmöld play at Nasa. We were treated to Steindór Andersen and Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson performing a series of Rímur before the metal began. For those of you who are wondering about the significance of that, for an Ásatrú it was like watching the Pope performing back-up keyboards for a Cistercian monk performing a series of Gregorian chants. It was pretty awesome.

The opening band was a generic, budget, hard rock/thrash metal band; the drummer was decent, but it would have been nice if the bassist and guitarist played something other than the opening chords of Die Toten Hosen, Motörhead, Iron Maiden, Guns N Roses, or Jimi Hendrix songs. Really would have appreciated that.

Skálmöld were awesome, though; they're an Icelandic folk metal band - think Týr, but in Icelandic instead of Faroese - and they rocked hard. The mosh pit was good times - surprisingly gentle, in fact - although a few idiots had their elbows up and a couple even brought bottles and cellphones into the pit. So long as I live, I don't think I will ever understand European metal fans. Most of us got in on the pit - Barbara just kind of threw herself into the middle of it, out of nowhere, and I figured that I might as well join in. Imagine my surprise when Ryder of all people followed me in, too!* I was impressed - for a guy who had resisted going to the show because he wasn't into metal, he handled himself surprisingly well in the pit and, I think, had a good time. Paul and Miriam joined in shortly thereafter and it was a frenetic, sweaty, exhausting, muscle-stiffening, good time of a shoving match.

After the show, we headed on over to Ölsmiðjan for a few pints, then went to Hlölla bátur, which is when the fun began. We were accosted by a couple of teenagers while we were finishing off our bátur and, as they were initially speaking in Icelandic, David assumed his traditional role as our group interpreter. This was, in hindsight, probably the most entertaining choice we could have made. Allow me to explain:

I've already mentioned the dichotomy between David's demeanour (i.e; a charming, civilized, gentleman) and his nature (i.e; a Turkish pimp) and, apparently, when he's drunk, his nature takes over. Hardcore. The kids were asking us for something that David didn't understand, he kept on explaining that he didn't know what they were talking about, and they kept on getting angrier and angrier. Eventually, using my experience from growing up in Hamilton, I realized they were trying to shake us down. We managed to get them to bugger off, but, as they were leaving, David decided to tell them to get stuffed.** This, of course, did not sit well with the kids and I sent David home while the Icelanders came back to talk more crap. I thought I'd dispersed them when they decided to give chase after David, who had decided to stand in an alleyway and watch. At which point I assumed Glorious Battle*** was imminent.

Alas, there was to be no Glorious Battle that night, simply a lot of smack-talk and a lot of me explaining that they really, really, really didn't want to get into any sort of altercation with Paul and I.**** Eventually, Paul retrieved two locals whose presence finally hammered in the fact that the kids were outnumbered and the situation was defused. We still went a roundabout way home, just to make sure there was no ambush, and, perhaps fortunately, there was none.

Still, an excellent evening on the town; metal, beer, and adventure were had by most, and I don't think anyone regretted anything done.

* By joining in with the mosh, Ryder has, perhaps unfortunately for the locals who have come to enjoy the constant sectarian bickering and feuding between he and I, ensured my respect for him and will thus be the recipient of far fewer insults and threats of sexual violence. They'll still happen, of course, but with less frequency. For the time being.
** He actually said much, much worse, but it was in Icelandic and, even then, this is a blag which is read by many folk so I'll censor it thusly.
*** Glorious Battle is the object of any interaction I have with people who I don't know or trust immediately. I've yet to have any in a long while, not since Emily and I were living in a terrible, low-rent apartment near the bus station in St. Catharines.
**** Paul played hockey, he also has brothers. Thus, he is well versed in the 'jersey the SOB and pummel the crap out of his face' school of Battle.

Hey, good lookin'. Long time, no update.

Well, it's been a while. Sorry about that, ladies, gentlemen, and those of you for whom the traditional gender typology does not apply. What's been going on in the life of Jim? Well, allow me to let you in on it!

First off, the Midterm of Doom was...well, doom-ish. I did vaguely better than I was figuring I would, but that's not really very good at all, truth told. I passed, at least, which is something. I think. Well, either way, I passed, albeit just. Next time, Gadget, next time.

Next, Jimmas. Jimmas was good - it was exactly as I figured, a few morituri te salutant drinks with the guys, then, on Boxer Day, drinks with many more people! Hana, Siobhan, Erika, Ásdís, Carline, David, Paul, Bond, and I went to Cafe Zimsen. Now, we went there because, according to David, there were ostensibly going to be a good number of choir* folk. What we got, however, was no choir folk and a bar full of bingo playing Icelanders. Siobhan and David, being English, apparently have several natural ranks in Bingo-Sense, which explained why we stayed so long. Eventually, we took off and went to the old standby of Ölsmiðjan for a few more pints, some viscous, brown, licorice-flavoured liquor and a shot of Brennivín. After that, home!

The 27th and 28th were fairly uneventful. On the 29th, we went out for the first of two Halloweens we celebrated. Not going to lie, it was mostly an excuse to go to the pub. Of course, we also harassed Kristi while she was at work, which was fun. The only downside is that she works at Bakkus, a night club which, in Paul's words, encapsulates everything that will lead to the fall of Western Civilization. I didn't mind it so much, at first. It reminded a bit of the old Red Square back in St Catharines, what with the Funker Vogt and Girls Under Glass. And then they started playing trance music, so we got out. The night ended with us getting bátar and being accosted (and potentially ambushed) by a very nice young woman who was out on parole and wanted to have dinner with us. We obliged, but when she mentioned she wanted us to meet her boyfriend my Ackbar Sense started tingling. It was almost definitely a trap, but it was almost like partying back in Canada, so I was OK with it!

Monday, Halloween proper, we had another party for the MISantrhopes at Gamla Husíð, with Sarah and Rouan as hosts. It was good times. Much brennivín was consumed, as well as a great deal of candy and pasta. We also brought the Mexican Hat tray. This legendary artifact was discovered late one night by David, Paul, Ásdís, and I, deep within the bowels of our kitchen cupboards. It is a small thing, hardly more than 40cm across, shaped like a sombrero. What makes it so worthy of discussion, though, is that there is a small button just off-centre which, when pushed, begins playing the first few bars of El Jarabe Tapatío, the Mexican Hat Dance song. This wondrous device was able to draw and hold the attention of a quartet of grad students for the better part of an hour when first discovered, and this amazing effect seems to have persisted, as we were all dumbstruck by it's magnificence. After that, we went to the pub, then to the cemetery - wherein I was half-expecting a zombie attack, due to the fact that it is literally overgrown with trees and choked with graves - then back to the pub. Because we're classy like that.

After that, well, there's been classes and learnin' and whatnot goin' on. Also, there's the idea for an article that's percolating in my mind about gender interpretations of Hrafnkelsaga Freysgoða which might get written only to torque Paul off. Because our relationship is like that.

More later, folks!

*David is in the University choir. He sings like an angel. And speaks like a Turkish pimp. It's an awesome dichotomy.

The Mid-term is coming! The Mid-term is coming!

As you can no doubt guess by the title, O Gentle Readers, it's fast approaching Mid-term exams here in the Medieval Icelandic Studies program. My fellow MISanthropes and I have an exam on Wednesday for Old Norse, my feelings upon which can be summed up quite succinctly: I'm doomed.* Well, not quite, but it's going to be a long shot for me to do well on it. Fortunately, in situations like this, I tend to do infuriatingly well, despite (or because of?) my utter lack of confidence, but we'll see what we can see.**

Tomorrow is Jimmas*** as well, but as the Mid-term is on Boxer Day****, the celebrations will be truncated slightly. By which I mean a couple of post-studying, morituri te salutant drinks before bed with whichever folk decide to come out for 'em.

Speaking of folk coming out for drinks, Paul, Bond, Ásdís, Barbara and I managed to finally drag Ryder out to a pub on Friday. Now, this may not seem like much of an achievement, but the boy ain't right in the head, strictly speaking. In that he's exceptionally studious and, as such, I have made it my personal mission to induct him into a lifestyle of hedonistic excess. Of course, the down side to that is the fact that people might start getting the impression that I actually like hanging out with him and his clearly inferior (albeit admittedly impressive) beard. That would not do.

Speaking of fun times, on the 15th there were two earthquakes, both 3.8. These were my second and third earthquakes, but the first I was actually awake for. I was excited. Also, Katla is due to blow soon, which is going to be awesome, assuming it pops either before I leave for Yulnukwanzandaanmas or after I return. I'd prefer it happened after I got back, personally, but you know how these things are.

I think that about wraps things up. So it's time to stop procrastinating and start a studying!

* You have no idea how long I spent looking for a video clip of C3PO saying "We're doomed!" Seriously, it's like a three second clip. No-one had it online, except for as a part of the whole 'Devastator disabling and boarding the Tantive IV' scene, and that would have been excessive.
** Ditto with the "Never tell me the odds!" scene from the Hoth asteroid field.
*** Jimmas, for the uninitiated, being the celebration of the birth of Jim. Which makes sense, when you think about it. Traditionally, it involves going to your favourite pub around 7pm and then drinking until you're cut off, kicked out, or out of cash.
**** Boxer Day - or All Pugilist's Day, depending on your preference - is the day after Jimmas. Kind of like Boxing Day, except it's traditionally reserved for sitting around the house in your boxer shorts, nursing the hangover incurred during your Jimmas celebrations.

A day of happenings!

So, today, being Friday, is a fairly short day for me, academically; I have but a single class* and, as such, I generally have a good amount of time that is free. So, today, I took advantage of this is several ways; first, I moved into my new room in the flat with David, Ryder, Paul and the mysterious Swiss man named Jonas.** I also managed to catch both Jenny Hval and Ólafur Arnalds' shows at Norræna Húsið, which was excellent. David, Paul and I also went to Barbara on Wednesday so we could see Guðrið Hansdóttir do an off-venue show.

This week, which is ostensibly*** a Study Week wherein we get 9 days off of class (Saturday through to the following Sunday), happens to coincide with Iceland Airwaves, hence the shows happening. The ones I've been to are off-venue and, thus, free - a good thing, considering the price of a wristband for the actual event!

Now, considering the fact that there have been many things afoot, I've decided to provide for you evidence of both a photographic manner and videos of 3 of 5 of Ólafur's songs (he had to play a short set, as he had another gig to get to.)

For your sanity, though, I've generously put these all below a jump.

Day of Giving of Thanks!

So, we had our Thanksgiving feastbacle* last night at Bahb and Meredith's place. It went off without too many hitches** and, I think, that everyone in the end had a good time. There's a lot of ground to cover with the whole night, but suffice it to say, we all had a good time. We ate, commiserated, played music and sang songs. There are photo!

But because there are a lot, I've included them all under a cut, for your viewing pleasure.

Without further ado, I present the First MIS Canadian Thanksgiving!***

Update!

Sorry that there's not been an update recently, O gentle readers.  It's not that there's been a paucity of things happening - in fact, just the opposite!  Allow me, if you will, to elaborate on what has been happening in the Life of Jim:

First, I'm moving! Again!

Now now, before you get your knickers in a twist, I'm not moving back to Canada. Not yet, at least.* I am, however, moving into a new place. Rouan and I are basically swapping apartments and mine is in the process of being painted. What this means is that I'm currently living in Hana's spare room at her new place while the painters are finishing off the repaint in my old room. Once that's done (hopefully by Wednesday night**) I'll be living with Paul, Ryder, David and Jonas - a quiet Swiss guy whose existence I was unaware until the most recent time I was at the flat.

Unfortunately, this also means that there is a lack of reliable Internet access, as Hana's place has yet to get it's Interwebs up and running. However - and this is a big however, thus the italics - I do have a bed there. Like a proper bed. And I tell you, two months of sleeping on an cot mattress the floor, while not terrible, it was like sleeping on a cloud. A soft, well-sprung cloud.

Secondly, drinking!

No no no, don't worry. I've not done something silly like giving up the booze. As a long-time reader (and hopeful contributor) to Modern Drunkard Magazine, the idea would be anathema to me. However, I was, until recently, bereft of companionship in my pursuit of prolific drinking. No more! Ásdís has volunteered to take on the unenviable task of dealing with me while I'm drinking. Fortunately, in our first foray on Friday, we encountered the talented Reecy Pontiff during a 25-hour layover in Iceland on her way back to the States and, as such, Ásdís' exposure to my drunken asshattery was mitigated somewhat.

Third, Thanksgiving!

This coming Monday (that's the 10th) is Thanksgiving for Canadians and, as such, I decided, quite unilaterally, that there would be a getting-together of folk on Sunday, the 9th, and invited several folk. Who then invited several more. And then the entire thing spiralled out of control. So there is now a feastbacle occurring on Sunday and, as it is a Thanksgiving simulacrum, we will need to have roasted fowl, but turkeys are nowhere to be found. The plan? Roast chicken(s?), duck(s?) and puffin(s?)!

Finally, academia!

I think I may have not embarrassed myself on this most recent Old Norse quiz and have acquired some suggestions as to how I can avoid Doing It*** Wrong from Ryder, which will actually probably help quite a bit with the grammatical end of things. There's also the fact that I'm writing my first essay in 3 years. A touch intimidating, but the rust is coming off the gears and, I hope, I'm going to get going in fairly decent stride once again. Which will be nice.

And now, time to get cracking on this essay!

*I am intending on returning to Canada soonishly.  Hopefully for Yulnukhwanzadanmas, if I can swing it.  If not, then for sure for Mid-May.  I may have to return shortly thereafter to finish work of an academic nature, but still.

**On Wednesday, Siobhan - Hana's flatmate - returns from England, thus requiring the use of her room.  And casting your Humble Narrator into the Streets, to fend for himself amidst the wild folk of Reykjavik.  A not alltogether distressing prospect, to be fair.

***It, in this case, being language acquisition in general.  Óðínn knows I could use it, as I can barely form a coherent sentence in English, let alone French, Italian or any of the other languages I pretend to know.

Oh, wow, been a bit...

Sorry about the delay, ladies and gentlebeings.  Things have been hectic as of the last few days and I'll elaborate for you as to how.

First, and most importantly, I'm mostly no longer an illegal!  I say mostly because I still need to go and get my photo taken for my Residence Permit, but once that hurdle is cleared (in a single manly and mighty bound, no less) I'm good.  Of course, this being the byzantine and arcane bureaucracy of Iceland, it wasn't an easy, nor inexpensive, thing to do.

Allow me to explain.  No no, is too much to explain.  Let me sum up.  So, in order to get my kennitala (which is important, as I'm sure you'll recall from previous posts) I needed to hand in a bunch of information to UTL, in person.  This, of course, necessitated that I was in the country when handing over said information.  Once they received that, they could issue me my Residence Permit and kennitala.  But there was one hitch.  A minor, insignificant, tiny detail.

That detail?

They wouldn't issue the kennitala or Residence Permit while I was in the country.  And they need proof that I've left.  What sort of proof?  Oh, a faxed copy of my boarding pass.  Well, that shouldn't be an issue, should it?

Let me tell you, O Gentle Readers, what sort of a debacle the whole thing was (and, I'd imagine, still is.)

First off, everything got submitted to UTL.  Statements of Support, my OSAP documents, letters of acceptance, etc.  Easy part.

Then I got a Ticket to London for this past Friday, returning on Saturday.  I left the flat at oh-dark-hundred and caught the bus to Keflavik airport.  Got there around 7am, got checked in and headed to Customs to have them fax in my boarding pass - something which I know they do, as they did it for Andrew the week previous.

Well.

I get to customs, ask them to fax it and, I kid you not, Most Noble Reader, the officer says "Nope.  You don't need to do that."
To which I reply "Uh, yeah, I do.  I've been told specifically by Georgia at UTL that I need this faxed to her."
"Well, you don't."
"Look.  I'm a student at HÍ.  If I don't get this faxed to UTL, I can't get a kennitala and I can't get registered.  Could you please humour me?"
"Fine."  He 'faxes' the boarding pass and hands me the copy, then closes the door to the office.

This struck me as odd, so I went to find a different fax machine, which I did, at the Hertz Rent-A-Car location, no less.*  I explained the situation to the woman behind the counter, she agreed with me that it's insane and she agreed to fax it for me.

She faxed it and she checked the status sheet.  Fax not delivered.  Odd.

We tried again.

Fax not delivered.

She then offered to continue trying to fax the thing for me until it went through.  I thanked her profusely and headed to my plane.

I then landed at Gatwick, called UTL and asked if they'd received my boarding pass.  They had.  20 minutes earlier.  Thank you Hertz Rent-A-Car lady!

The following 25 hours were a montage of coffee, food and chat with Ren, then back to Gatwick and home to Reykjavik!**

Now, all I needs must do is get my photo taken (on Thursday) and in 3 weeks or so, I get my card!

Additionally, on Thursday, we finally went on our Þingvellir/Reykholt trip.  And I took pictures!

They are, of course, under a jump

You asked for pictures...

And pictures you shall receive.  Included are pics of a walk I took on the way to the library to do some studying, plus pics of a dinner Rouan, Paul and I had - bloðmör and boiled potatoes, with hákarl

As this is pic-heavy, I've included a jump.

Alas, no!

Sadly, folks, there will be no photos of the Aurora this eve. Cloud cover was way too thick above the harbour and the lack of ambient lighting didn't lend itself to good photography.* Mayhap next time!

*Lack of photographer talent notwithstanding, of course.

Wednesday gift

Well, 'gift' might be a bit overstating it, but here's an update nonetheless.

So, where shall we begin? Ah, yes, school. That makes sense, given the fact that I'm here for it (and it's also the stated purposes of this blag)

Got back my second Old Norse quiz and Exercise- I passed the quiz (albeit just) and got 88% on my exercise, both of which are nice changes of pace. Did a third quiz and handed in another exercise, feeling confident that both will be better than last time. This whole 'studying' thing seems to make a difference. Maybe I should have started doing this earlier. Well, no matter, I must move forward, not backward, upward not forward, and always twirling, twirling, twirling toward the future!

Also, there is a really neat lecture on Thursday that deals with illuminated manuscripts in Old Norse and how those illuminations reflect the attitude the compiler/illuminator had toward the subject matter in the Reykjabók manuscript of the Jónsbók legal text. The fact that this excites me is, of course, illustrative of how fantastically nerdy I am, but that's OK.

Unfortunately, this also means that the Þingvellir/Reykholt trip is postponed yet again. Until next Thursday, at the very least.

Speaking of next week, I invade England again on the 23rd of September. This is going to be a short, targeted raid, though - as distinctly opposed to the week of marauding I did there last year around this time - in order to get me my kennitala. Yeah, you read that right, ladies and gents; I'm on my way to not being an illegal! All I need to do now is spend 25 hours in London, drinking and generally carousing, and all will be (theoretically) well!

Of course, there is one hitch with the plan - it just wouldn't be entertaining otherwise, would it? That hitch is my missing the first of two seminar discussions in the Medieval North course which cover, essentially, the topic of my MA thesis. Ah, well. C'est la vie, non?

Finally, I got a bit of a hot cash injection today and promptly acquired a cellphone and digital camera as cheaply as possible. The digital camera had the great advantage of being purchased at a Tax Free store, too, so that means I get a good chunk back next Friday. That also means I get to buy liquor at the Duty Free when I return on Saturday morning.

I think that about sums it up. There will be a photo update soonish; I'm going to try and get some photos of the Aurora Borealis this evening and, failing that, I'll get some of the harbour and the general coastal area.

I lied

It's not next week that you get photos, but today! Sarah graciously loaned me her camera and, as such, I have trekked about the immediate area and acquired photos for you all to see!

First, I got me a sweater; it is swank, warm and matches the gloves Emily knit me. I approve wholeheartedly.

Your humble narrator, plus his swank sweater.  Gods above, I look fancy.

Next, my housemates! First, Sarah:

She didn't want her photo taken. I told her I wouldn't. I clearly lied. She now knows better than to trust me.

Next, Hana:

Don't let the studious-looking environs fool you. She's reading cracked.com

Now, the Tour of the temporary* Jimhallr!

First, the Couch and Table where everyone meets, hangs out, and I study:

Another angle of the Couch and Table:

Next, my Room from the doorway:

This is where I sleep. It's actually much more comfortable than it looks.

The Kitchen! Wherein magic is performed and tasty food (like the sexpot**) is created!

The back of our apartment!

Finally, the view down Snorrabraut, the intersection about 6 metres away from our front door.

And that's that for now, ladies and gents. There'll be pics post-Þingvellir and Reykholt trip!

*Temporary in that I'm only staying here until I finish my MA

**Not what you think. It's basically a hotpot which Hana and I made using the same philosophy behind good sex: If it feels good, do it. This one included tofu, potatoes, carrots, garlic, rice, pasta, lentils, tomatoes, frozen mixed veggies, spices and HP sauce. It's delicious.

A day of many things happening

Some good, some decidedly un-good. Allow me to elaborate, in the style of Ennio Morricone.

il Buono:

1) Went to two Noam Chomsky lectures today; The first was about Linguistics and the theory of a Universal Grammar (along with some commentary about how Syntactical studies should be more accurately referred to as Word Order studies) and the second was a political lecture regarding the two 9/11s - the one in New York and the one in Chile from 1973. Both were absorbing, although I do get where Bahb was coming from when he said Chomsky was no Asimov; engrossing material, but not the most engaging speaker. Acerbic and dry, yes, but not terrifically so.

2) Went to Nexus, the comic book, DVD, manga and general nerdbookstore, conveniently located a block and a half toward the sea from my apartment. It was replete with all manner of awesome manga (Eden: It's an Endless World!, Gundam 00, etc.), graphic novels and comic compilations and a complete section of Warhammer and 40k novels, including the Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium* omnibus, the first Gaunt's Ghost omnibus and the Eisenhorn omnibus. All of which are reasonably priced, if not less expensive than back in Canada. This bodes ill for my bank balance and for my studying time.

Speaking of studying...

3) Had my first Discussion class for The Medieval North today. It was a Seminar and, as such, I enjoyed the hell out of it. Of course, the fact that I tend to have my speech very informal and peppered with colloquialisms did draw some attention from the Professor, Víðarr, but still. Fun times were had by all, I think.

il Brutto:

1) I have successfully completed my OSAP hoop jumpery. This involved me writing a letter giving Emily authorization to get info about my loan, photographing said letter, photographing my SIN card and then sending those, along with a copy of my passport to NSLC in order to get my loan released. In 7-10 days, I'll have money. In theory.

il Cattivo:

1) Found out today that the Internet bill had been consistently paid one month behind. This means that, in July, Hana paid for May and June and, this month, we paid for July and August, as 1) the bill is not sent via post, but rather to the initial account holder's email and 2) the September bill had yet to be printed.

2) Found a collections notice for the Electrical bill. From May. And June. I'm assuming July's involved too, somehow, and August. But Orkuveita Reykjavíkur won't give us information without the kennitala of the person who originally set up the account (I think - the rep's English wasn't so good, and this info was relayed to me via Sarah)

There shall be a reckoning regarding these issues. A mighty reckoning, oh yes.

So, there you have it, ladies and gents. There's a trip to Ölsmiðjan this eve, so I'm doing some studying before that. Otherwise, not much going on for the rest of the day.

Next week? Pictures! Of Þingvellir, Reykholt and, if you're lucky, the Domicile and Surrounding Area.

*Caution: Link directs you to TV Tropes, and woe unto those who fall into it's depths!

Accursed consequence!

(As a note, I like prefacing things with the word 'accursed,' if you've not noticed)

So, today was a day of consequences catching up with me; it was also, as you may no doubt have guessed, a day where in I learned quite a bit about myself viz those consequences.

So, shall we begin?

First, my foot. I am, for those of you unaware, afflicted with the gout. This is an incredibly unpleasant and painful form of arthritis caused in part by a staunch dedication to epicurean hedonism. Specifically, light-coloured beers and liquors, caffeine, chocolate, red meat, shellfish and tomatoes are terrible for gout. Those of you familiar with me know that I have essentially described my ideal menu in that list. This is a problem. Especially as I've essentially lived off of coffee, lager and tea since I got here. While tasty, not so good for the hoof. Fortunately, a brief stop at a local Asian market procured me a tasty tofu-based desert which, along with the Tylenol 2s I've been eating like candy, seems to have mitigated the pain. There is talk of celebratory drinking this eve to commemorate Sarah's completion of a BA paper on Karen Blixen. My course of action? Celebratory club soda!

Not pictured: The decalitre of lager I drank before the Gout Gremlin showed

Second, school. I had an Old Norse test today. "Fuck yeah!" I hear you say. "You translate that shit for fun! You should have no problems!" These were exactly my thoughts as well. Suffice it to say, I learned quite the lesson today. The fact that I've not taken formal education in Old Norse since 2007 means that I really, really shouldn't have thought a cursory glance at the grammar would serve me. So, after bombing that test and emailing my Professor (who is a totally awesome dude) a conciliatory email letting him know I'm not actually an idiot. I was simply absurdly arrogant and, now chastened, I have resolved to do my damnedest to ensure that such a clusterfuck as that never occurs again. I'm going to be having my hands full as it is with the courses I'm taking this year (and my desire to do the entire MA in 2 semesters) that I can't afford to fuck around.

Third, fucking around. Not going to lie. Been reading a lot of Bernard Cornwell and playing a lot of Mount and Blade: Warband. As opposed to reading up on my Old Norse orthography, phonology and morphology. That will change. That will change damned quick.

Fourth, the Immigration Issue. Finally got approved for making myself legal! Unfortunately, this means I need to leave the country and fax in my boarding pass to UTL so that they can issue me my Residence Permit and Kennitala. That will be done once my OSAP arrives.

Fifth, and finally, OSAP. Sent off the confirmation of income today and they should be in Canada early next week. Which means that early the week after next I get my money, then I go to the UK - to visit either Ren or Jess, or both! - and then back here with a Kennitala and a residence permit and all that good stuff.

And now, to look at getting me a cell phone!

Accursed circumstance!

Today has been a day of accursed circumstance, as the title of this post suggests. Accursed how? Well, allow me to enumerate:

First) The class trip to Þingvellir and Reykholt on Friday has been postponed for a couple of weeks, as we here on the Isle are getting the remnants of Hurricane Irene slammed into us.

Well, slammed isn't the correct word; gently wafted is more accurate, but it doesn't sound as impressive. Either way, no trip until the 15th, which does have the upside of me being able to then get a camera for it. So that's nice.

Second) I am dying. Slowly. Uncomfortably.

Well, that may be hyperbolic. I have a cold. It's the standard 'starts in my brain, moves to my chest and then to my nose' plague which I come down with every six months or so. It reduced me to a dribbling, shivering husk a few days ago. Now all I need to deal with are nasal issues too graphic to describe here. However, it does irritate me greatly.

Third) I'm still in limbo with the Útlendingastofnun. We're scanning and sending copies of my OSAP papers to see if that will satisfy them.

This one actually does torque me off quite badly. I mean, I'm not sure what else they want from me at this point.

Four) The part of my brain that is churning through my thesis idea gets all up in the grill of the part of my brain that actually needs to analyze historical information in an apolitical (or at least non-Marxist) fashion. Not everything is about class struggle and the conflict between ecclesiastical and lay power systems.*

Fifth) Torfi mentioned translations as a viable Thesis Project. This caused the other part of my brain that churns through project ideas to start jumping up and down and shouting "Hávamál! Translate Hávamál, you mankey bastard! DO IT!"

This could be good, but I'd need to justify just why a new translation of Hávamál is needed, which could be tricky.**

So yes, this is how things have been going thus far.

*I lied.  It is.
**Because it's an awesome poem and provides a good amount of insight not only into the mentality of the 11th C. ruling class, but it also presents the sort of Viking Ideal, much like a Viking 138 Commandments and 26 commentaries on the Runes and Magic

Day one of classes

Today was the first day of classes for my MA program. As an indicator of the workload I have to deal with, I shall post my schedule for Mondays:

11:40-13:10 Old Icelandic/Old Norse
15:00-16:30 Viking Age Archaeology (supernumerary to my MA, but important for my PhD, starts next week)

That's it. No foolin'. The rest of my week is similar; no more than 3 hours of class per day.

Of course, the reading list for my Old Norse Literary Corpus class on Tuesdays was ~100 pages, including supplements, so there's that. Still, I burned through those fairly quickly, so that's good.

The class itself was good; being in an academic setting again helped me to remember things things that I forgot that I knew (like, you know, vowel-stems - an important thing for learning word declensions!) and kicked my brain back into gear.

After class, Ryder, David and I hung out for a bit - went to a couple of book stores, went to a music shop (Ryder is a master of harmonic string instruments, or at least better than I am at them) and talked about maybe setting up an MIS jam-band; there was both a Hapi drum and a small hand-harp/lyre, and I was intrigued by each. The Hapi produces this super mellow, resonating hum while the lyre is, well, a lyre. However, the Hapi cost a little less than two months rent, so finances dictate that I'm going to be looking at the lyre.

Also, there was talk of making ravioli. I decided that I'd make home made ravioli for folk, which rapidly spiralled into a trip to a local delicatessen. This particular place sold Taleggio, but at 7800kr per kilo, it's a touch expensive. Of course, it's not like things are inexpensive here (1900kr for 500g of bacon! BACON!) but even still. We'll have to see who's all interested and who can chip in. If there's enough, then I figure we can go all out and make an awesome meal. If there are enough folk interested, this should be relatively inexpensive and quite fun!

Finally, I've determined that I need to purchase one of the famous Icelandic Wool Sweaters, which are around half a month's rent when new or about a quarter-month's rent if I get them from Kolaportið, the local flea market. Either way, a pricey prospect.

Oh yeah! I almost forgot to mention that I a) went to see the new Conan movie last night, which was closer to the Robert E. Howard stories than the Milius/Schwarzenegger version, but not as re-watchable and b) have had one of the finest hot dogs ever at Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur. These people take street meat to a new level. Simple, cheap (a hot dog and pop is 470kr, or around $4.25 CAD) and damned tasty. If and when you come to visit, I highly recommend it.

Oh, and more folk are being added to the Dramatis Personae:

Ásids - An Icelandic-American; PhD candidate, very intelligent. Moreso than I, at least. Which seems to be a theme with my fellow MIS students
Myriam - A Russo-American PhD candidate and former MIS student; she's going to be my new flatmate in October, as Hana is moving out. A fan of things Fantastical and grimdark.
Bahb - An American-American from Kentucky and current MIS student. Much like everyone else in the program, barring your humble narrator, an extremely intelligent dude. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu practitioner and classical scholar.

More updates!

So, yesterday was fun - we had an informal Student meeting with Miriam, a former MIS student and now a PhD candidate.  Good times were had by all of us - the MIS members of the Dramatis Personae, that is - and we met a friend of Sarah's from Germany.  We were also at a pub called Ölsmiðjan, which means, and I shit you not on this,"the Alesmith."  Which was pretty badass.  It's also one of the few bars in Reykjavik which hasn't been trendy, which means they serve decent draught for 490kr, or around $4.25CAD  Not bad pricing, when you consider that the average cost of a pint or bottle around here is 900kr/$8.75CAD

Afterwards, we went to Hlöllabátar, grabbed some 'boat sandwiches' - the local variant on subs - and just shot the shit.  I had a really tasty one consisting of shaved lamb, ham, fried onions, lettuce and Hlölli sauce - essentially a remoulade.  Tasty stuff.


So, we all remember how my Visa troubles were, well, troubles, right?  Well, my RCMP prints and check arrived the other day, got scanned and mailed to me and I mailed them to UTL, so right now my 'I'm not getting deported because I'm no longer an illegal alien!" paperwork is in the process of being filled out.  And I might not have to go to another country to do it!

Also, the lady from the Canadian Embassy with whom I've been chatting is, apparently, the Canadian Trade Commissioner for Iceland.  And she wants to meet up for coffee next week.  Crazy?  I think so.

Speaking of other countries, I've met two new folk who are being added to the Dramatis Personae:

Rouan - A Kiwi and MIS student; quiet but seems like a decent enough fellow.  Likely capable of constructing an entire house from 2x4 and baling wire.
Einar - An Anglo-Norse MIS student.  He is his own Danelaw, essentially.  A quiet Danelaw, but those are the most dangerous.

There are plans afoot to go to the flea market on Saturday, so I might come back with a camera and then there might be pictures!  However, for now, that's that.  So catch you later!

News!

So, met up with a few other folk from the University and I'm adding them to the Dramatis Personae post.  I'll give you a rundown on who's who, though (and, this way, I only need to copy and paste the entry, not write up a  new one!  Score one for being lazy!)

Ryder - Another Yank, fellow MIS student, fan of Fantasy and fellow nerd.  Paul's roommate.

David - An Englishman, from Cambridge, and thus he sounds smarter than anyone else.

Jonas - Another German, doing an exchange semester here for his BA.  Solid dude.

Andrew, Paul, Ryder and I had a meeting with Torfi yestday.  Andrew and I are still in limbo viz. our immigration status while Paul, Ryder and Sarah are having issues with their kennitölur.*  Andrew and I will be in that boat too, once things show up here for us.

After the meeting with Torfi, I went and collected Sarah and Jonas from our flat and the lot of us - Sarah, Ryder, Paul, Andrew, Jonas and I - went to Pizza Pronto for dinner.  It certainly wasn't the best pizza I've ever had, but it was certainly the best "it's 3am, I'm hammered and I know I need to eat something" pizza I've ever had.

Today, the plan is to go to the Post Office and mail in OSAP info, then there's talk of swimming going on.  We'll see how that goes.

Also, I'll need to get a camera by Friday; there's a trip to Þingvellir (where the two continental plates of North America and Europe meet) and Reykholt (where Snorri Sturlusson lived and where the Snorri exhibit is), so that'll be cool.

Also, I'm going to need to get an Icelandic keyboard at some point - constantly using Alt-Code or copy-paste diacritics is getting ridiculous.

*Kennitölur (sg. kennitala) are Icelandic National Identification numbers.  Think Social Insurance/Social Security numbers for Canada and the US.  They're also needed to get registered with the University and with Ugla, the University's online registration system, the computer labs and get study carrels at the National Library.  So yeah, kind of a big deal.

Dear Iceland:

Thank you for the awesome welcoming party.*  This doesn't mean I forgive you totally, but we're getting there.

Of course, this "hangover" which you have left me with isn't exactly my style, but you know, when in Reykjavik, right?

*I apparently landed on the morning of culture night which, according to Ancient Custom, requires a massive booze-up and much partying.  I am, of course, totally down with it.

Jim versus Iceland, Part 2: The Revengancing

I'm in Iceland right now.  Flight landed at 0702 GMT, had things sorted and cleared and onto the Skybus by 0730 and was here - the apartment on Njalsgata in Reykjavik - by 0900.  Finally got to meet Sarah, who is awesome, and we went and did some shopping for the basics.  Now, I am back here, we're going to make some pasta and chips (fries, for most of my audience) for dinner and I'm just updating to let you all know what is what.

Speaking of updates.  You remember how I said I'd post pics?

Yeah, well, about that.  I would post pics, except that I didn't bring a camera with me (save for my webcam) and thus you are bereft of the barren and rugged landscape that is Iceland on the highway from Keflavik airport to Reykjavik.  Also, you're bereft of photos of the three (!) volcanic plumes I saw on the way here.

Suffice it to say, the island knows Jim has arrived, and this time, it's personal.

Post-Jimpocalypse news and an update on The Visa Situation

The Jimpocalypse


Alas, I was a fool and did not bring a camera to the Jimpocalypse, and thus there shall be no photos of the night.  Suffice it to say, though, a good time was had by all and I greatly appreciated seeing all of my non-coworker friends for a last time before I leave.


The Visa Situation


Is there a sign on my head that reads "Do not supply Visas to this man"?  No?  Then why is Iceland so reluctant to supply a Visa to me?

Allow me to explain; I've got my Visa application in, everything is proceeding apace and I'm just short the proof of registration at the University to get everything done (I can't register until I'm there, which is proof that the government designed it's bureaucracy after reading Kafka and watching Brazil)  and I would assume everything is going swimmingly.  However, Andrew and I received letters on the same day* stating our background checks were insufficient and we needed RCMP checks.  This would be impossible to get in such short notice and, being my charmingly direct self, I let the Directorate of Immigration know.

The result of that and a direct phone call?  An email from the Canadian Embassy in Reykjavik stating, essentially "Chill, James, and wait until shit clears up on Monday.  If it's not clear by then, call the Directorate and find out what's up."

So, I wait for another 12 hours and some change before I find out what's what and, hopefully, I will have an answer in the key of 'Awesome' regarding this.

Conclusion

I depart in 5 days.  This is craziness.

*No small feat, considering Canada Post's recent labour issues.

Another update!

Emily is a knitter of fantastic ability and speed.  She is, I'm convinced, some sort of wizard who can take string, two sticks and some fluff and make this:

This is Irving.   He is a plush monster that Emily whipped together for me to take to Iceland.

He is freakin' awesome and LOOK AT HIS EYES.  SO CUTE.

That concludes our post for today.  Look for post-Jimpocalypse photos later in the weekend.

By request...

Ren has requested that I include, for you, my faithful readers, a picture of the Jim Action Figure she found when she was in Iceland earlier this year.

So, because I'm just that kind of guy, I present the infamous "Ren and the Jim Action Figure" pic:

So there you go, folk.  Iceland is already preparing for me - they've got mini statues of me for sale in their airports.

The Plot Thusfar...

Our brave and intrepid hero - yours truly, lest you forget - is preparing for a return visit to Iceland, for take two on the MA, for a second crack at a foe which had bested him once before, in 2007.*

As of this moment, I have handed in my two weeks notice at a call centre job I never really liked and the vast majority of my Visa application is already completed and in the hands of the Icelandic Directorate of Immigration (also known as Útendingastofnun or UTL).  The labyrinthine passages of UTL's Visa approval system notwithstanding (I need to provide proof of registration in my program to apply but can't register in my program unless it's in person, for example), things are looking to be progressing much better than they did in 2007.  For one, I have an actual place to live this time, not a couple of places I can look at before deciding on one like last time (that was a trainwreck and a half, I tell you), I know who my housemates are and I've actually spoken to them (a massive improvement over last time as well) and my landlord isn't a prick.  I also know what I'm doing for my thesis.  All of these are huge improvements over last time.

I leave for Iceland on 19 August, 2011, at 21:10 EST and should arrive in Keflavik at 06:25 GMT on 20 August, barring any delays.  In the intervening 11 days, Emily and I are finishing the packing, looking for a new, smaller place for her to move to and preparing for various and sundry going-away related things.

There may be a few posts between today and the 20th, likely one after the going away party I'm throwing (dubbed, of course, The Jimpocalypse) and possibly another the day I leave.

Stay tuned, faithful readers!


*For some clarification and background, Emily and I went to Iceland in 2007 so I could do my MA in Medieval Icelandic Studies.  Unfortunately, the sheer impenetrability of the Icelandic Directorate of Immigration's Visa process resulted in a quick retreat to Canada after a week of trying to figure out how in the nine hells our Visas would be approved because we'd not completed the Double-Secret Handshake that UTL requires.

At upphafi

As your humble narrator, I should probably begin with letting you know what's what.

About me:  I'm in Reykjavik working on my MA in Medieval Icelandic Studies at the Háskólí Íslands here.  As most of you who're reading this are aware, I'm originally from Ontario, Canada and I'm married to an awesome Lady who's still there at the moment.

Why I'm there:  As I've said, I'm doing my MA in Medieval Icelandic Studies.  I'm looking at a couple of weapons used in the sagas by

Dramatis Personae:  There are a few names I'm going to dropping along the way, so I might as well let you know who's who:

Non-MIS Students:

Emily - My ex-wife.  Originally came to Iceland with me in 2007.
Ren - One of my best friends.  Dedicated to making my life as interesting for her as possible.
Hana - My other housemate.  A dive instructor and fellow Canadian.  Although she's from Dundas, so, you know...
David - An Englishman, from Cambridge, and thus he sounds smarter than anyone else.  Doing the Erasmus Modern Icelandic program.
Jonas - Another German, doing an exchange semester here for his BA.  Solid dude, also in Erasmus
Hayley - A Canadian from BC, doing work in Literature.  A mutual friend of Johanna and Andrew
Magda - A German PhD candidate working on Viking-Age grave finds in Iceland.
Johanna - Ryder's ladyfriend and our housemate.  Half-Icelandic and half-Finnish.
Siobhan -  A dive instructor who works with Hana, of dubious English extraction. Willing to go go on lunatic adventures with me


MIS Students:

Andrew - A fellow Canadian and MIS student.  From Whitehorse, Yukon Territory.  Bear wrestler, moose whisperer, etc.
Paul - A Yank and fellow MIS student.  Also, a bitter Nihilist and Anarcho-Capitalist (although he prefers the term "Libertarian")
Ryder - Another Yank, fellow MIS student, fan of Fantasy books and fellow nerd.  Paul's roommate and Folk Music Afficianado.
Sarah - My German former housemate.  A fellow student in MIS.  Huge metal fan.  Not as in a large appliance to move air about, but as in she enjoys heavy metal music.
Einarr - An Anglo-Norse MIS student.  He is his own Danelaw, essentially.  A quiet Danelaw, but those are the most dangerous.
Ásdís - An Icelandic-American; PhD candidate, very intelligent. Moreso than I, at least. Which seems to be a theme with my fellow MIS students
Myriam - A Russo-American PhD candidate and former MIS student; she's going to be my new flatmate in October, as Hana is moving out. A fan of things Fantastical and grimdark.
Bahb - An American-American from Kentucky and current MIS student. Much like everyone else in the program, barring your humble narrator, an extremely intelligent dude. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu practitioner and classical scholar.
Bond - A Texan-American and Fulbright Scholar.  Fantastically intelligent, quiet, has the stereotypically academic quality of drifting off deep into thought at a moment's notice

What you can expect:  Probably some photos.  Certainly some stories.  Maybe even semi-regular updates, if you're lucky.